^■-v';l' 


THE 


WORKS 


OF  THE 


REV.   JOHN   HOWE,  M.  A. 


WITH 


MEMOIRS  OF  HIS  LIFE, 


BY  EDMUND  CALAMY,  D.  D 


COMPLETE  IN  TWO  VOLUMES. 


VOL.  I. 

NEW-YORK: 
PUBLISHED    BY    JOHN    P.    HAVEN, 

No.  148  NASSAU  STREET. 
E.  Sanderson,  Printer,  ElizahetMown,  N.  J. 
MDCCCXXXVIII.  1%  ^7" 


V.  I 


CONTENTS. 


The  Life  of  Mr.  John  Howe. 


The  Living  TemiT.e;  or  a  desig^ied  Improve- 
ment of  that  Notion,  That  a  Good  Man  is  the  Tem- 
ple of  God. 

Part  I.  Concerning  C-^d's  Exi.stence,  and  hi.s  Con- 
ver.sableness  with  Man.  Against  Atheism,  or 
the  Epicurean  Deism 

Chap.  I.  This  notion  common.  Authorities  need- 
less. Insignificant  with  the  atheistical,  who 
have  made  it  more  necessar}^  to  defend  religion, 
and  a  temple  in  general,  than  this,  or  that. 
Better  defended  against  them  by  practice  and 
use,  than  argument,  whereof  they  are  incapable. 
Often  disputes  of  its  principles  not  necessary  to 
the  practice  of  religion.  Some  consideration  of 
those  supposed  in  the  general  notion  of  a  temple, 
pertinent  (however)  to  this  discourse 

Chap.  II.  I.  The  two  more  principal  grounds 
which  a  temple  supposes.  First,  The  existence 
of  God.  Secondly,  His  conversableness  with 
men  :  both  argued  from  common  consent.  Doubt- 
ful if  the  first  were  ever  wholly  denied  in  former 
days.  The  second  also  implied.  First,  In  llie 
known  general  practice  of  some  or  other  religion. 
Evidenced,  Secondly,  In  that  some,  no  strangers 
to  the  world,  have  thought  it  the  diflerence  of 
man.  II.  The  immodesty  and  rashness  of  the 
persons  from  whom  any  opposition  can  be  ex- 
pected. III.  These  two  grounds,  namely,  the 
existence  of  God,  and  his  conversableness  with 
men,  proposed  to  be  more  strictly  considered 
apart.  And,  FIRST,  The  existence  of  God, 
where  the  notion  of  God  is  assigned.  The  parts 
whereof  are  proposed  to  be  evinced  severally  of 
some  existent  being.  First,  Eternity.  Secondly, 
Self-origination.  Thirdly,  Independency.  Fovrf'/i- 
ly.  Necessity  of  existence.  Fifthly,  Self-activity. 
(^The  impossibility  that  this  world  should  be 
this  necessary  self-active  being.  The  incon- 
sistency of  necessary  alterable  matter,  more 
largely  deduced  in  a  marginal  digression.) 
Sixthly,  Life.  Seventhly,  Vast  and  mighty  power. 
A  corollary 

Chap.  III.  Wisdom  asserted  to  belong  to  this 
Being.  The  production  of  this  world  by  a 
mighty  agent  destitute  of  wisdom  impo.ssible. 
On  consideration  of,  1.  "What  would  be  adverse 
to  this  production.  2.  What  would  be  wanting; 
some  effects  to  which  a  designing  cause  will,  on 
all  hands,  be  confessed  necessary,  having  mani- 
fest characters  of  skill  and  design  upon  them. 
Absurd  here  to  except  the  works  of  nature ; 
wherein  at  least  equal  characters  of  wisdom  and 
design  are  to  be  seen,  as  in  any  the  most  confess- 
ed pieces  of  art,  instanced  in  the  frame  and  mo- 
tion of  heavenly  bodies.  A  mean  unphilosophical 
temper,  to  be  more  taken  with  novelties,  than 
common  things  of  greater  importance.  Further 
instance,  in  the  composition  of  the  bodies  of 
animals.  Two  contrary  causes  of  men's  not 
acknowledging  the  wisdom  of  their  Maker 
herein.  Progress  is  made  from  the  consideration 
of  the  parts  and  frame,  to  the  powers  and  func- 
tions, of  terrestrial  creatures.  Growth,  nutrition, 
propagation  of  kind.  Spontaneous  motion,  sen- 
sation. The  pretence  considered,  that  the  bodies 


of  animals  are  machines.  1.  How  improbable  it 
is.  2.  How  little  to  the  purpose.  The  powers  of 
the  human  soul.  It  appears,  notv:ithsianding 
thevi,  it  had  a  cause  ;  by  thim,  a  wise  and  intell'- 
gent  cause.  It  is  not  matter.  That  not  capable 
of  reason.  They  not  here  reflected  on  who  think 
reasonable  souls  made  of  refined  matter,  by  the 
Creator.  Not  being  matter,  nor  arising  from 
thence,  it  must  have  a  cause  that  is  intelligent. 
Goodness  belonging  to  this  Being 14 

Chap.  IV.  Generally  all  supposable  perfection 
asserted  of  this  Being  ;  where,  First,  A  being 
absolutely  perfect  is  endeavoured  to  he  evinced 
from  the  (already  proved)  necessary  bei  ig;  which 
is  shown  to  import,  in  the  general,  the  utmost 
fulness  of  being.  Also  divers  things  in  particular 
that  tend  to  evince  that  general.  As  that  it  is  at 
the  remotest  distance  from  no  being.  Most  pure- 
ly actual.  Most  abstracted  being.  The  produc- 
tive and  conserving  cause  of  all  things  else.  Un- 
diminishable.  Incapable  of  addition.  Secondly, 
Hence  is  more  expressly  deduced.  The  infinite- 
ness  of  this  being.  An  inquiry  whether  it  be 
possible  the  creature  can  be  actually  infinite  ? 
Difficulties  concerning  the  absolute  fulness  and 
infiniteness  of  God  considered.  2.  The  oneline.<:s 
of  this  being.  The  trinity  not  thereby  excluded.      30 

Chap.  V.  Demands  in  reference  to  what  hath  been 
hitherto  discoursed,  with  some  reasonings  there- 
upon :  1.  Is  it  possible  that,  upon  supposition  of 
this  being's  existence,  it  may  be,  in  any  way 
suitable  to  our  present  state,  made  known  to  us 
that  it  doth  exist  1  Proved,  1.  That  it  may.  2. 
That,  since  any  other  fit  way  that  can  be  thought 
on  is  as  much  liable  to  exception  as  that  we  have 
already,  /Aismustbe,  therefore,  sufficient.  Strong 
impressions.  Glorious  apparitions.  Terrible 
voices.  Surprising  transformations.  If  these  are 
necessary,  is  it  needful  they  be  universal  ?  fre- 
quent 1  if  not,  more  rare  things  of  this  sort  not 
wanting.  2.  Demand.  Can  subjects,  remote  from 
their  prince,  sufficiently  be  assured  of  his  exist- 
ence 1  3.  Demand.  Can  we  be  sure  there  are 
men  on  earth  1 37 

Chap.  VI.  What  is  intended  by  God's  conversa- 
bleness with  men,  considered  only  as  fundamen- 
tal and  presupposed  to  a  temple.  An  account  of 
the  Epicurean  deity.  Its  existence  impossible 
any  way  to  be  proved,  if  it  did  exist.  Nor  can 
be  affirmed  to  any  good  intent.  That  such  a  be- 
ing is  not  God.  That  the  absolute  perfection 
proved  of  God  represents  him  a  fit  object  of  re- 
ligion. From  thence  more  particularly  deduced 
to  this  purpose,  His  omnisciency,  omnipotency, 
unlimited  goodness,  immensity.  Curcellsus's 
arguments  against  this  last  considered.      .     . 


Part  II.  Containing  Animadversions  on  Spinosa, 
and  a  French  Writer  pretending  to  confute  him. 
With  a  Recapitulation  of  the  Former  Part,  and 
an  Account  of  the  Destitution  and  Restitution 
of  God's  Temple  among  men 

Chap.  I.  Wherein  is  .shown,  the  destructivene'^s  of 
Spinosa's  scheme  and  design  to  religion  and  the 
temple  of  God.  The  repugnancy  of  his  doctrine 
to  this  assertion — That  whatsoever  exists  neces- 
sarily and  of  itself,  is  absolutely  perfect  j  which 


45 


56 


3J;2085'' 


CONTENTS. 


is  therefore  further  weighed.  His  vain  attempt  to 
prove  what  he  designs.  His  second  proposition 
considered.  His  definition  of  a  substance  defec- 
tive. Proves  not  his  purpose.  His  third,  fourth, 
and  fifth  proposition.  His  eighth  scholia.  The 
riMnuductlo  ad  pantosophiam 59 

Chap.  II.  Animadversions  from  a  French  writer, 
nameles.s.  His  pretence  to  confute  Spinosa. 
The  opinion  of  the  workl's  being  made  of  in- 
dependent self-existing  matter  ;  chosen  by  hiin 
and  a.sserted  against  two  other  opinions.  That 
of  matter's  being  created  out  of  nothing  rejected, 
and  falsel)'^  charged  with  novelty.  Mo.ses,  and 
the  author  to  the  Hebrews  misalleged,  vindicat- 
ed. Self-originate,  independent  matter  di.sproved: 
asserted  by  this  author  with  evident  self-contra- 
diction ;  and  without  necessity Gi 

Chap.  III.  The  reason  of  what  next  follows.  Di- 
rections to  readers  not  wont  to  inquire  into  the 
grounds  of  their  religion.  A  summary  and 
plainer  proposal  unto  such,  of  what  hath  been 
said  in  the  former  Part,  concerning  God's  exist- 
ence and  conversablcness  with  men.  The  reason- 
ableness (so  much  being  already  evinced)  of 
alleging,  and  relying  upon  the  testimony  of  the 
Holy  Scriptures.  The  expressness  of  that  testi- 
mony concerning  the  unity  of  the  Godhead,  the 
trinity  therein.  The  absolute  perlection  of  the 
divine  nature.  The  infiniteness  of  God's  know- 
ledge, power,  goodness,  and  presence.  His  pro- 
pensions  towards  men,  and  aptness  (supposing 
there  were  no  obstruction)  to  human  converse. 
Matters  of  doubt  herein  resolved 67 

Chap.  IV.  That  there  is  an  obstruction  to  this 
intercourse.  The  method  of  the  following  dis- 
course. Man's  apostacy  from  God,  and  the 
vitiated  state  of  his  nature ;  not  only  represented 
in  the  sacred  writings,  but  also  acknowledged 
and  lamented  by  pagans  : — very  mistakenly,  in 
some  respects ;  wherein  perhaps  some  of  them 
not  justly  understood.  This  not  the  primitive 
state  of  man ;  therefore  not  to  be  imputed  to 
the  Author  of  nature.  The  temple  of  God 
hereby  became  unfit  for  the  divine  presence. 
Unsuitable.  Disaffected.  Hereupon  forsaken, 
and  most  justly 71 

Chap.V.  The  restitution  of  this  temple  undertaken 
by  the  Emmanuel :  First, more  darkly  prefigured; 
afterward,  more  clearly  manifested.  This  con- 
stitution of  Emmanuel  sufiicient.  Necessary  for 
this  pui-pose.  That  he  was  himself  to  be  the  plat- 
form, the  foundation,  and  the  founder  of  it. 
The  original  temple.  And  was,  in  order  hereto, 
also  a  sacrifice;  to  procure  that  God  might 
honourably,  and  without  wrong  to  his  governing 
justice,  return,  and  have  his  abode  with  men. 
A.nd  that  they  might  become  prepared  to  receive 
his  returning  presence.  For  which  purpose  he 
hath  in  him  the  power  of  giving  the  Holy  Spirit, 
on  the  account  of  this  sacrifice.  That  when  God 
is,  for  the  sake  of  it,  willing;  we  might  no 
longer  remain  unwilling.  That  unwillingness 
to  be  overcome  by  the  power  and  spirit  of 
Emmanuel ;  as  hereafter  to  be  more  fully  shown. 
But  working  (suitably  to  an  intelligent  subject) 
in  a  rational  way.  To  which  a  great  accom- 
modateness,  in  the  constitution  of  Emmanuel. 
As  demonstrating  divine  love,  and  holiness.  In 
its  loveliness.     Possibility  of  being  attained.      .      77 

Ch.vp.  VI.  The  necessity  of  this  constitution  of 
Emmanuel  to  the  erecting  God's  temple  in  the 
world.  The  discoursing  of  this  matter,  proper 
on  this  occasion.  As  to  God's  part  herein,  first, 
proposed  to  show,  both  that  a  recompense  wa.s 
necessary  to  be  made,  and  that  it  could  be  made 
no  other  way.  Towards  the  evincing  the  former, 
sundry  things  gradually  laid  down.     The  point 


itself  argued,  by  considering  the  injury  done  to 
the  divine,  with  what  we  may  suppose  done  to  a 
human,  government  ;  where  repentance  not  con- 
stantly thought  a  sufficient  recompense  ;  other- 
wise, a  penitent  delinquent  was  never  to  be  pu- 
nished. Difierence  between  God's  pardon  and 
man's  in  most  usual  cases.  Recompense  for 
wrong  done  to  government,  quite  another  thing 
from  what  answers  the  appetite  of  private  re- 
venge. Expressions  that  seem  to  import  it  in 
God,  how  to  be  understood.  Shown  that  they 
import  no  more  than  a  constant  will  so  far  to 
punish  oflences,  as  is  necessary  for  the  asserting 
and  preserving  the  rights  and  dignity  of  his  go- 
vernment. So  much  most  agreeable,  and  neces- 
sarily belonging  to  the  perfection  of  the  divine 
nature.  And  if'  the  justice  of  a  human  govern- 
ment requires  it,  of  the  divine  much  more.   .     .      84 

Chap.  VII.  The  notion  of  justice  in  the  divine 
government,  and  in  a  human,  not  altogether  the 
same.  A  thing  said  to  be  just,  in  a  negative  and  a 
positive  sense.  The  question  discussed.  Whether 
God's  will  to  punish  sin  were,  antecedently  to 
his  legal  constitution  to  that  purpose,  just,  not 
only  in  the  former  sense,  but  in  the  latter  alsol 
Volenti  mm  ft  injuria,  as  to  man  needs  limita- 
tion. Holy  Scripture  speaks  of  God's  punishing 
sin,  not  merely  as  a  concomitant  of  justice,  but 
an  effect.  His  will  to  punish  it  must  proceed 
from  justice  ;  not,  primarily,  according  to  the 
common  notion  of  justice,  as  it  respects  the 
rights  of  another  ;  therefore  another  notion  of 
it  (as  to  him)  to  be  sought.  God's  rights  so  una- 
lienable, that  he  cannot  quit  them  to  his  owti 
wrong  as  man  can.  Secondarily,  according  to 
the  other  notion,  his  right  to  punish  depends  not 
on  his  legal  constitution,  but  that  on  it.  That  he 
cannot  altogether  quit  it,  no  detraction  from 
him.  Justice,  in  a  larger  notion,  doth  further 
oblige  to  insist  upon  recompense  ;fi2r.  universal 
justice, as  especially  it  comprehends  his  holiness, 
his  wisdom.  The  fitness  of  God's  methods  here- 
in not  to  be  only  contemplated  by  men,  but  an- 
gels. In  what  sense  punishments  to  be  reckoned 
debts.  This  matter  summed  up 89 

Chap.  VIII.  The  first  head  thus  far  insisted  on, 
that  a  sufficient  recompense  was  necessary  :  the 
second  succeeds,  that  no  less  was  sufficient  than 
that  made  by  Emmanuel.  Dishonour  to  have 
insisted  on  less.  What  the  divine  estimate  in 
this  matter  was,  his  own  word  shows.  His  love 
to  oflenders  otherwise  under  restraint.  Pro- 
posed to  consideration,  1.  How  great  things 
were  to  be  remitted,  the  sins  of  all  times,  and 
ages.  Not  from  insufficiency  unapplicable  to 
ail  sinners.  Remission  to  be  granted,  by  a  uni- 
versal law.  2.  How  great  to  be  vouchsafed. 
Which  follows 93 

Chap.  IX.  Concerning  the  gift  or  communication 

of  the  Spirit.  The  Gospel  the  means  of  it.  The 
inseparable  connexion  hereof  with  the  former,  the 
imparting  of  righteousness, for  removing  theguilt 
of  sin.  In  what  sense  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God  is 
said  to  be  given,  or  commimicated.  What  per- 
sonal union  signifies.  How  personal  presence, 
vital  union,  communicated  influences,  concern 
the  inquiry.  In  what  respect  the  necessity  assert- 
ed of  this  communication.  Since  such  fulness  of 
Spirit  in  Emmanuel,  purposely  for  communica- 
tion ;  how  comes  it  to  pass  he,  thereby,  raises  no 
more  such  temples;  the  necessity  of  this  com- 
munication, for  this  purpose,  represented  two 
ways:  by  showing,  1.  Thv  'he  Holy  Scripture 
leaches  that  God  doth  g^vt  his  Spirit,  though 
under  distinct  notiojis,  only  through  Christ.  2. 
That  it  was  most  reasonable,  and  therefore  ne- 
cessary it  should  be  so.  The  doctrine  of  Scrip- 
ture hen:in  proposed  under  sis  head-s.   .    ,    ,    ,      97 


CONTENTS. 


Chap.  X.  The  fir.";!  of  the  mentioned  six  heads  insist- 
ed on — Thai  the  spirit  is  given  both  as  a  Builder, 
and  as  an  Inhabitant  of  this  temple.  Scripture 
testimony  concerning  the  former  of  those,  and  the 
latter.  And  for  the  sake  of  his  death  and  suffer- 
ings. Anciently,  the  blessing  of  Abraham,  and 
his  seed  from  age  to  age,  upon  this  account. 
More  copiously  and  to  other  nations,  when  the 
fulness  of  time  was  come.  Christ's  death  hath 
influence  for  these  two  purposes  with  much  dif- 
ference, to  be  afterwards  explained.  Colossians 
i.  19,  20,  21.  largely  opened.  A  digression  re- 
lating thereto.  The  principal  import  of  that  text, 
to  show  the  dependence  Christ's  whole  work  of 
reconciliation,  both  of  God  to  us,  and  of  ns  to 
God,  had  upon  his  sacrifice  on  the  cross.  The 
latter  whereof  is  elfected  by  his  Spirit,  obtained 
by  that  sacrifice.  Other  texts  to  the  same  pur- 
pose. Further  noted,  that  the  Spirit  is  expressly 
said  to  be  given  by  Christ,  or  in  his  name,  &c. 
Given  for  building  or  preparing  a  temple,  by  a 
less  certain,  known  rule 101 

Chap.  XI.  The  sixth  head  proposed  before,  now 
insisted  on.  That  for  the  purpose  of  inhabiting 
this  temple,  already  formed,  the  Spirit  is  given  by 
the  Emmanuel,  as  a  trustee.  The  Oecnnonius, 
or  chief  Steward  of  God's  household.  And  by  a 
certain,  known  rule.  Giving  them,  that  are  to 
partake  therein,  the  ground  of  a  rightful  claim 
unto  this  great  and  most  comprehensive  gift. 
Whereupon  to  be  considered.  The  dueness, 
amp4itude,  or  comprehensiveness  thereof  (1.) 
The  dueness  of  it.  1.  By  promise.  2.  By  this 
promise,  its  having  the  form  of  a  covenant,  resti- 
pulated  on  their  part.  3.  From  their  state  of 
sonship,  as  regenerate.  Adopted.  4.  From  their 
being  to  receive  it  by  faith.  (2.)  Its  ample  ex- 
tent, measured  by  the  covenant,  considered  partly 
in  actu  sigiiato.  In  actu  exercito.  Infers  recon- 
ciliation, relation.  The  summary  of  the  covenant 
refers  to  it.     The  conclusion lOG 

The  Reconcileableness  of  God's  Prescience  of  the 
Sins  of  Men,  with  the  Wisdom  and  Sincerity  of  his 
Counsels,  Exhortations,  and  whatsoever  Means  he 
uses  to  prevent  them.  In  a  Letter  to  the  Hon.  Robert 
Bo}le,  Esq.  To  which  is  added  a  Postscript  in  De- 
fence of  the  said  Letter 114 

Man's  Creation  in  a  holy  but  mutable  State. — Eccl. 
vii.  29.  Lo,  this  only  have  I  fmhtul,  that  God  hath 
made  man  upright ;  but  they  have  sought  out  many 
inventions 132 

A  Calm  and  Sober  Inquiry  concerning  the  Possi- 
bility of  a  Trinity  in  the  Godhead,  in  a  Letter  to  a 
Person  of  worth  ;  occasioned  by  the  lately  published 
Considerations  on  the  Explications  on  the  Doctrine 
of  the  Trinity,  by  Dr.  Wallis,  Dr.  Sherlock,  Dr. 
S — th,  Dr.  Cudworth,  &c.  Together  with  certain 
Letters,  formerly  written  to  the  Reverend  Dr.  Wal- 
lis on  the  same  subject 136 

A  Letter  to  a  Friend  concerning  a  Postscript  to 
the  Defence  of  Dr.  Sherlock's  Notion  of  the  Trinity 
in  Unity,  relating  to  the  Calm  and  Sober  Inquiry 
upon  the  same  subject 151 

A  View  of  that  part  of  the  late  Considerations  ad- 
dressed to  H.  H.  about  the  Trinity,  which  concerns 
the  Sober  Inquiry  on  that  subject.  In  a  Letter  to  the 
former  friend 157 

A  Letter  written  out  of  the  Country  to  a  Person  of 
quality  in  the  City,  who  took  offence  at  the  late  Ser- 
mon of  Dr.  Stillingfleet,  (Dean  of  St.  Paul'.?,)  before 
the  Lord  Mayor 168 

Some  Consideration  of  a  Preface  to  an  Inquiry 
concerning  the  occasional  Conformity  of  Dissenters.     180 

Thb  Blessedness  of  the  Righteous  opened,  and 
further    recommeaded  from   the   Consideration   of 


191 


194 


198 


201 


the  Vanity  of  this  Mortal  Life.  In  Two  Treatises, 
on  Psalm  xvii.  15.  As  for  me,  I  will  behold  thy  face 
in  righteousness:  I  shall  be  salisfcd,  v:hen  I  aicuke, 
vith  thy  likeness  :  and  Psalm  Ixxxix.  47.  Remember 
ho7C  short  my  time  is:  wherefore  hast  th-ou  made  all 
men  in  vain  ? 187 

Chap.  I.  A  proemial  discourse.  A  reflection  upon 
some  foregomg  verses  of  the  psalm,  by  way  of 
introduction  to  the  text.  A  consideration  of  its 
somewhat  various  readings,  and  of  its  literal  im- 
portance. A  discussion  of  its  real  importance  so 
far  as  is  necessary  to  the  settling  the  subject  of 
the  present  discourse 

Chap.  II.  A  summary  proposal  of  the  doctrine 
contained  in  this  scripture.  A  distribution  of  it 
into  three  distinct  heads  of  discourse  ;  viz.  1.  The 
qualified  subject.  2.  The  nature.  3.  The  season 
of  the  blessedness  here  spoken  of.  The  first  of 
these  taken  into  consideration,  where  the  qualifi- 
cation, righteousness,  is  treated  of.  About  which 
is  shown,    1.  What  it  is.     2.  How  it  qualifies.     . 

Chap.  III.  The  nature  of  this  blessedness  pro- 
pounded unto  consideration,  in  the  three  ingre- 
dients (here  mentioned)  whereof  it  consists.  1. 
Vision  of  God's  face.  2.  Assimilation  to  him, 
3.  The  satisfaction  resulting  thence.  These  pro- 
pounded to  be  considered,  1.  Absolutely  and 
singly,  each  by  itself  2.  Relatively,  in  their 
mutual  respects  to  each  other.  The  first  of  these, 
Vision  of  God's  face,  discoursed  of.  1.  The  ob- 
ject.    2.  The  act 

Chap.  IV.  The  second  ingredient  into  this  bless- 
edness considered.  Assimilation  to  God,  or  his 
glory  imprest.  Wherein  it  consists,  discovered 
in  sundry  propositions.  The  third  ingredient, 
The  satisfaction  and  pleasure  which  results,  sta- 
ted and  opened 

Chap.  V.  The  relative  consideration  of  these  three 
ingredients  of  the  saints'  blessedness ;  where  it 
is  propounded  to  show  particularly,  1.  What 
relation  vision  hath  to  assimilation.  2.  What 
both  these  have  to  satisfaction.  The  relation  be- 
tween the  two  former,  inquired  into.  An  entrance 
upon  the  much  larger  discourse,  what  relation 
and  influence  the  two  former  have  towards  the 
third.  What  vision  of  God's  face  or  glory  con- 
tributes towards  satisfaction,  estimated  from  the 
consideration,  1.  Of  the  object  of  the  glory  to  be 
beheld;  as  'tis  divine,  entire,  permanent,  appro- 
priate  

Chap.  VI.  AVhat  the  vision  of  God's  face  contri- 
butes to  the  soul's  satisfaction,  estimated  from 
the  consideration  of  the  act  of  vision  itself. 
Wherein  this  pleasure  surpasses  that  of  st-i.se.  A 
comparison  pursued  more  at  large,  between  this 
intuition  and  discourse,  between  it  and  faith. 
This  intuition  more  absolutely  considered  :  Its 
characters,  and  what  they  contribute  to  the  satis- 
faction of  the  blessed  soul :  That  it  is,  viz.  effica- 
cious, comprehensive,  fixed,  appropriate.        .     . 

Chap.  VII.  Wherein  assimilation  (the  likene.^s  or 
glory  of  God  impressed)  contributes  unto  satis- 
faction ;  where  is  particularly  propounded  to  be 
shown.  What  pleasure  it  involves,  what  it  dis- 
poses to  :  What  it  involves  in  the  esse  of  it,  what 
in  the  cogiiosci.  1.  The  pleasure  of  being  like 
God  discovered.  2.  Showing  concerning  the 
image  of  God  (generally  considered)  that  it  is 
the  soul's  health  and  soundness  restored  -,  that 
it  is  a  vital,  an  intimate,  a  connatural,  a  perfect 
image 

Chap.  VIII.  The  satisfaction  carried  in  the  glory 
of  God  impressed,  further  shown  by  instances. 
Certain  particulars  of  this:  impression  instanced 
in  a  dependent  frame  of  spirit,  subjection  or  self- 
devoting^  love,  purity,  liberty,  tranquillity.     .     . 


204 


308 


211 


214 


CONTENTS, 


221 


Chap.  IX.  The  pleasure  arising  from  knowing  or 
considering  ourselves  to  be  like  God:  from  con- 
sidering it,  1.  Absolutely,  2.  Comparatively,  or 
respectively:  To  the  former  state  of  the  soul, 
To  the  state  of  lost  souls,  To  its  pattern,  To  the 
way  of  accomplishment.  To  the  soul's  own  ex- 
pectations. To  what  it  secures.  The  pleasure 
whereto  it  disposes,  of  union,  communion.  A 
comparison  of  this  righteousness,  with  this  bless- 
edness  218 

Chap.  X.  The  season  of  this  satisfaction,  which 
is  two-fold;  at  death,  and  at  the  resurrection. 
The  former  spoken  to  ;  wherein  is  shown.  That 
this  life  is  to  the  soul  (even  of  a  saint)  but  as  a 
sleep :  That  at  death  it  awakes.  As  to  the  latter; 
That  there  is  a  considerable  accession  to  its  hap- 
piness at  the  resurrection 

Chap.  XI.  An  introduction  to  the  use  of  the  doc- 
trine liitherto  proposed.  The  use  divided  into 
Inferences  of  truth.  Rules  of  duty.  1.  Infe- 
rence, That  blessedness  consists  not  in  any  sen- 
sual enjoyment.  2.  Inference,  The  spirit  of  man 
(since  'tis  capable  of  so  high  a  blessedness)  is  a 
being  of  high  excellency 224 

Chap.  XII.  Inference  3.  That  a  change  of  heart 
is  ncces-^ary  to  this  blessedness.  The  pretences 
of  ungodly  men,  whereby  they  would  avoid  the 
necessity  of  this  change.  Five  considerations 
proposed  in  order  to  the  detecting  the  vanity  of 
such  pretences.  A  particular  discussion  and  re- 
futation of  those  pretences 227 

Chap.  XIII.  Fourth  Inference,  That  the  soul  in 
which  such  a  change  is  wrought,  restlessly  pur- 
sues this  blessedness  till  it  be  attained.  Fifth 
Inference.  That  the  knowing  of  God,  and  con- 
formity to  him,  are  satislying  things,  and  do  now 
in  a  degree  satisfy,  according  to  the  measure 
wherein  they  are  attained.  Sixih  Inference,  That 
the  love  of  God  towards  his  people  is  great,  that 
hath  designed  for  them  so  great,  and  even  a  satis- 
fying good 233 

Chap.  XIV.  7.  Inference.  That  since  this  bless- 
edness is  limited  to  a  qualified  subject,  "  I  in 
righteousness,"  the  unrighteous  are  necessarily 
left  excluded.  8.  Inference.  That  righte.ousness 
is  no  vain  thing,  inasmuch  as  it  hath  so  happy 
an  issue,  and  ends  so  well 235 

Chap.  XV.  Two  other  inferences,  from  the  con- 
sideration of  the  season  of  this  blessedness  :  The 
former,  that  inasmuch  as  this  blessedness  is  not 
attained  in  this  life,  the  present  happiness  of 
saints  must  in  a  great  part  consist  in  hope.  The 
latter,  that  great  is  the  wisdom  and  sagacity  of 
the  righteous  man,  which  waves  a  present  tempo- 
rary happiness,  and  chooses  that  which  is  distant 
and  future 238 

Chap.  XVI.  The  second  general  head  of  the  im- 
provement or  use  of  the  doctrine  propounded 
from  the  text,  containing  certa  in  rules  or  prescrip- 
tions of  duty  connatural  thereto.  1.  "I'hat  we 
settle  in  our  minds  the  true  notion  of  this  blessed- 
ness. 2.  That  we  compare  the  temper  of  our 
own  spirits  with  it,  and  labour  thence  to  discern  ' 
whethf.  r  we  may  lay  claim  to  it  or  no.       ...    240 

Chap.  XVII.  Rule  3.  Directing  such  as  upon  in- 
quiry find,  or  see  cause  to  suspect,  a  total  aver- 
sation  in  themselves  to  this  blessedness,  to  be 
speedy  and  restless  in  their  endeavours  to  have 
the  temper  of  their  spirits  altered  and  made  suit- 
able to  it.  Doubts  and  objections  concerning 
the  use  of  such  endeavours,  in  such  a  case,  an- 
swered. Some  considerations  to  enforce  this  di- 
rection propounded  and  pressed 244 

Chap.  XVIII.  Rule  4.  Directing  to  t\\e  endea- 
vour of  a  gradual  improvement  in  such  a  dispo- 


sedness  of  spirit  (as  shall  be  found  in  any  mea- 
sure already  attained)  towards  this  blessedness. 
That  'tis  blessedness  begun  which  disposes  to  the 
consummate  state  of  it.  That  we  are  therefore 
to  endeavour  the  daily  increase  of  our  pnsent 
knowledge  of  God,  conformity  to  him,  and  the 
satisfiedncss  of  our  spirits  therein 250 

Chap.  XIX.  Rule  5.  Directing  to  raise  our  de- 
sires above  the  actual  or  possible  attainments  of 
this  our  present,  and  terminate  them  upon  the  fu- 
ture consummate  state  of  blessedness.  The  rule 
explained  and  pressed  by  sundry  considerations. 
Rule  6.  That  wc  add  to  a  desirous  pursuit,  a 
joyful  expectation  of  this  blessedness,  which  is 
pursued  in  certain  subordinate  directions.      .     .    257 

Chap.  XX.  The  addition  of  two  rules,  that  more 
specially  respect  the  yet  future  season  of  this 
blessedness,  after  this  life ;  viz.  Rule  7.  That  we 
patiently  wait  for  it  until  death.  Rule  8.  That 
we  love  not  too  mitch  this  present  life.        .     .     .    262 

The  Vanity  of  this  mortal  life :  or,  of  Man,  con- 
sidered in  his  present  Mortal  State. — Psalm  Ixxxix. 
47,  48.  Remeviber  how  short  my  time  is :  wherefore 
hast  thou  made  all  men  in  vain.  What  man  is  he  that 
liveth,  and  shall  not  see  death?  Shall  he  deliver  his 
soul  from  the  hand  of  the  grave  7     Selah 273 

A  Discourse  relating  to  the  expectation  of  future 
Blessedness. — Hebrews  x.  3G.  f'or  ye  hare  %ccd  of 
patience,  that,  after  ye  have  done  the  wilt  of  God,  ye 
might  receive  the  promise 202 

An  Appendix,  containing  some  memorial  of  Dr. 
Henry  Sampson,  a  late  noted  Physici.an  in  the 
City  of  London 


303 
305 


The  worthy  Dr.  Grew's  Account  of  this  his  excel- 
lent Brother-in-law 

A  Discourse  concerning  the  Redeemer's  Dominion 
over  the  Invisible  World,  and  the  entrance  thereinto 
by  death.  Some  part  whereof  was  preached  on 
occasion  of  the  Dea<h  of  John  Hoghton,  Esq.  eldest 
son  of  Sir  Charles  Hoghton,  of  Hoghton-Tower,  in 
the  County  of  Lancaster,  Baronet. — Rev.  i.  18.  Arid 
have  the  keys  of  hell  {hade;,  or  the  unseen  world")  and 
of  death 306 

Of  Thoughlfulness  for  the  Morrow— Matt.  vi.  34. 
Take  therefore  no  thought  for  the  morrow :  for  the 
morrow  shall  take  thought  for  the  things  of  itself. 
Sufficient  for  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof. 328 

An  Appendix  to  the  foregoing  Discourse,  concern- 
ing the  immoderate  desire  of  knowing  Things  to 
come ^40 

A  Treatise  of  Delighting  in  God. — Psalm  xxxvii. 
4.  Delight  thyself  also  in  the  Lord,  and  he  shall  give 
thee  the  desires  of  thine  heart.     In  Two  Parts.  .     .     .     349 

Part  I.  Showing  the  Import  of  this  Precept.     .     .     351 

Part  II.  Concerning  the  Practice  of  Delight   in 
God 379 

Self-dedication  discoursed  in  the  Anniversary 
Thanksgiving  of  a  Person  of  honour  for  a  great  Deli- 
verance. Rom.  xii.  1. — /  beseech  you,  therefore,  breth- 
ren, by  the  mercies  of  God,  that  ye  present  riour  bodies  a 
living  sacrifice,  holy,  acceptable  v/nto  God,  which  is 
your  reasonable  service 412 

Two  Sermons  preached  at  Thurlow,  in  Suffolk, 
on  those  words,  Rom.  vi.  13.  Yield  yourselves  to 
God 423 

The  Redeemer's  Tears  wept  over  Lost  Souls.  A 
Treatise  on  Luke  xix.  41,  42.  And  when  he  was 
come  near,  he  beheld  the  city  and  wept  over  it,  saying,  If 
thou  hadst  known,  even  thou,  at  least  in  this  thy  day, 
the  things  which  belong  unto  thy  peace  !  but  now  they 
are  hid  from  thine  eyes.  With  an  Appendix,  wherein 
somewhat  is  occasionally  discoursed,  concerning  the 


CONTENTS. 


Blasphemy  against  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  how  God  is 
said  to  will  the  Salvation  of  them  that  perish.  .     .     .    432 

The  Carnality  of  Religious  Contention,  in  Two 
Sermons,  preached  at  the  Merchants'  Lecture,  in 
Broad  Street. — Gal.  v.  IG.  This  I  say  then,  Walk  in 
the  Spirit,  and  ye  shall  not  Juijll  the  lust  of  the  jlesh.  .     457 

A  Sermon  concerning  Union  among  Protestants: 
a  Discourse  answering  the  following  (Question, 
"  "W  hat  may  most  hof  ^fuKy  be  attempted  to  allay 
animosities  among  Protestants, that  ourDivisions  may 
not  be  our  Ruin  1" — Col.  ii.  2.  That  their  hearts  might 
be  comforted,  being  knit  together  in  love,  and  unto  all 
riches  of  the  full  assurance  of  understanding,  to  the  ac- 
knowledgment of  the  -mystery  of  God,  and  of  the  Father, 
and  of  Christ 472 

Of  Charity  in  reference  to  other  Men's  Sinj.— 
1  Cor.  xiii.  6.     Rejoiceth  not  in  iniquity 484 

The  right  Use  of  that  argument  in  Prayer,  from  the 
Name  of  God  ;  on  behalf  of  a  People  that  profess  it. 
— Jer.  xiv.  21.  Do  not  abhor  us  for  thy  natne's  sake.    .     491 

The  Office  and  Work  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  in  every 
age,  with  reference  to  Particular  Persons:  consider- 
ed in  several  Sermons,  on  John  iii.  6.  That  which  is 
horn  of  the  flesh  is  flesh;  and  that  ivhich  is  born  of  the 
Spirit  is  spirit ;  and  Gal.  v.  25.  If  we  live  in  the  Spi- 
rit, let  us  also  loalk  in  the  Spirit 503 

The  Prosperous  State  of  the  Christian  Interest  be- 
fore the  End  of  Time,  by  a  plentiful  effusion  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  considered  in  Fifteen  Sermons,  on  Ezek. 
txxix.  29.  Neither  ivill  I  hide  my  face  any  more  from 
hem  :  for  I  have  poured  out  my  Spirit  upon  the  house 
if  Israel,  saith  the  Lord  God 562 

The  Obligations  from  Nature  ?nd  Revelation  to 
family  Religion  and  Worship,  represented  and 
pressed  in  Six  Sermons;  from  Josh.  xxiv.  15.  But 
<f  for  me  and  my  house,  we  will  serve  the  Lord.      .     .    608 

The  Vanity  of  a  Formal  Profession  of  Religion, 
considered  in  Eight  Sermons,  on  Titus  i.  16.  They 
profess  that  they  know  God  ;  but  in  hisworks  they  dcmj 
him,  being  abominable,  and  disobedient,  and  unto  every 
good  work  reprobate 629 

The  Love  of  God  and  our  Brother,  considered  in 
Seventeen  Sermons,  on  1  John  iv.  20.  He  that  loveth 
not  his  brother  whom  he  hath  seen,  how  can  he  love 
God  whom  he  hath  not  seen  7  Preached  at  a  weekly 
morning  Lecture  at  Cordwainer's  Hall,  in  the  year 
1676 650 


TmRTEEN  Sermons  on  variocs  sueject.s. 

Serm.  I.  Times  and  Seasons  reserved  in  the  Fa- 
ther's own  povver. — Acts  i.  7.  Ajm  he  said  ujito 
them,  It  is  not  for  you  to  know  the  times  or  the  sea- 
sons, which  t/ie  Father  hath  put  in  his  omi  power. 


Serm.  II.  Believers  troubled,  yet  not  distressed. 
— 2  Cor.  iv.  8  We  are  troubled  on  every  dde, 
yet  not  distressed 


Serm.  III.  Wherein  afflictions  are  to  be  accounted 
joyful. — James  i.  2.  Mybrethren,  cowit  it  all  joy 
when  ye  fall  into  divers  temptations 

Serm.  IV.  The  Improvement  of  Afflictions  desi- 
red.— 1  Peter  v.  10.  But  the  God  of  all  grace, 
who  hath  called  us  into  his  eternal  glory  by  Christ 
Jesus,  after  that  ye  have  suffered  awhile,  make  you 
perfect,  stablish,  strengthen,  settle  you 

Serm.  V.  The  Sin  and  Consequence  of  vexing  the 
Holy  Spirit. — Isa.  Ixiii.  10.  Bht  they  rebelled, 
and  vexed  his  Holy  Spirit  :  therefore  he  was  turn- 
ed to  be  their  enemy,  and  he  fought  against  them. 

Serm.  VI.  Obedience  to  be  united  with  hearing 
the  Word. — James  i.  23.  But  be  ye  doers  of  the 
word,  and  not  hearers  only,  deceiving  y^ur  own 
selves 


701 


705 


708 


713 


720 


Serm.  VII.  The  Parable  of  the  Unjust  Judge.- 
Luke  xviii.  1 — 8.  And  lie  spake  a  parable  unto 
them  to  this  end,  that  vien  ought  olv:ays  to  pray, 
amd  not  to  faint ;  saying.  There  was  in  a  city  a 
judge,  which  feared  not  God,  neither  regarded 
man :  and  there  was  a  widovj  in  that  city ;  and  she 
came  mito  him,  saying.  Avenge  me  of  mine  adver- 
sary. And,  he  icould  not  for  a  while ;  but  afterv-ard 
he  said  within  himself.  Though  I  fear  not  God, 
nor  regard  man  ;  yet  because  this  widow  Irovblelk 
me,  I  will  avenge  her,  lest  by  her  continual  co'ining 
she  weary  inc.  And  the  Lord  said,  Hear  what  the 
unjust  judge  saith.  And  shall  not  God  avenge  his 
ov}n  elect,  vjhich  cry  day  and  night  unto  him, 
though  he  bear  long  with  them  7  I  tell  you  that 
he  vnll  avenge  them  speedily.  Nevertheless  v;hen 
the  Son  of  man  cometh,  shall  lie  find  faith  on  the 
earth  7 724 

Serm.  VIII.  The  Influence  of  Hope. — Rom.  v.  5. 
Hope  viaketh  not  ashamed 727 

Serm.  IX.  Christians  exhorted  not  to  sleep,  as  do 
others. — 1  Thes.  v.  6.  Therefore  let  us  not  sleep, 
as  do  others 731 

Serm.  X.  Jerusalem  rebuilt  in  troublous  times. —   . 
Dan.  ix.  25.     The  street  shall  be  built  again,  and 
the  icall,  even  in  troublous  times 734 

Serm.  XI.  David's  prayer,  that  the  way  of  God  may 
be  known  upon  Earth. — Psalm  Ixvii.  2,  3.  That 
thy  way  may  be  known  upon  earth,  thy  saving  health 
among  alt  nations.  Let  the  people  praise  thee,  O 
God,  let  alt  the  people  praise  thee 737 

Serm.  XII.  The  Sin  nnd  Danger  of  forsaking  the 
Lord. — Josh.  xxiv.  20.  If  ye  forsake  the  Lord, 
and  serve  strange  gods,  then  he  will  turn  a->id  do 
you  hurt,  and  consume  you,  after  tlvat  he  hath  done 
you  good 741 

Serm.  XIII.  The  Wicked  turned  into  Hell.-Psalm 
ix.  17.  The  wicked  shall  be  turned  into  hell,  and 
all  the  nations  tliat  forget  God 746 

Sermons  : 

I.  On  the  Gospel  recommending  itself  to  every 
Man's  Conscience.  Seven  Sermons  from  2  Cor. 
iv.  2.  But  }.ave  renounced  the  hidden  things  of 
dishonesty ,  not  walking  in  craftiness,  nor  handling 
the  word  of  God  deceit  fully ;  but  by  manifestation 
of  the  truth  commending  ourselves  to  every  man's 
conscience  in  the  sight  of  God 757 

II.  They  to  whom  the  Gospel  is  hid,  are  lost  souls. 
Six  Sermons,  from  2  Cor.  iv.  3.  But  if  our  Gos- 
pel bs  hid,  it  is  hid  to  them  that  are  lost 780 

III.  On  Hope.  Fourteen  Sermons,  from  Rom.  viii. 
24.  For  we  are  saved  by  hope  ;  hut  hope  that  is 
seen  is  not  hope :  for  what  a  man  seeth,  ichy  doth  he 

yet  hope  for? , 800 

IV.  Friendship  with  God.  Ten  Sermon.s,  from 
James  ii.  23.  And  the  scripture  was  fulfiUed 
which  saith,  Abraham  believed  God,  and  it  ivas  im- 
puted unto  him  for  righteousness :  and  he  was  call- 
ed the  friend  of  God 851 

V.  On  Regeneration.  Thirteen  Sermons,  from  1 
John  V.  1.  llTiosoever  believeth  that  Jesus  is  the 
Christ  is  born  of  God  :  and  every  one  that  loveth 
him  tluat  begat,  loveth  him  also  that  is  begotl-en  of 
him 8S"2 

A  Sermon  directing  what  we  are  to  do,  after  a  strict 
Inquiry,  whether  or  no  we  truly  love  God. — John  v. 
42.  But  I  know  you,  that  ye  have  not  the  love  of  God 
in  you 922 

A  Sermon  on  the  Thanksgiving-day,  Dec.  2,  1697. 
— Psalm  xxix.  1.  The  Lord  will  bless  his  people  with 
peace 925 

A  Sermon   for   the   Reformation  of  Manners. — 

5 


CONTENTS. 


Rom.  xui.  4.  For  he  is  the  minister  of  God  to  thee  for 
good 

A  Two-fold  Discourse.  I.  Of  Man's  Enmity 
against  God.  II.  Of  Reconciliation  between  God 
and  Man.— Col.  i.  21.  And  yau,  that  were  smietirrie 
alievMted  and  enemies  in  your  mind  by  wicked  works, 
yet  now  hath  he  reconciled 

A  Sermon  preached  on  the  Fifth  of  November, 
1703.— Col.  i.  13.  Who  hath  delivered  us  from  the 
power  of  darkness,  and  hath  translated  us  into  the  king- 
dom of  his  dear  Son 

FcNERdL  Sermons. 

A  Funeral  Sermon  for  that  faithful  and  laborious 
Servant  of  Christ,  Mr.  Richard  Fairclough,  who 
deceased  July  4,  168-2,  in  the  61st  year  of  his 
a^e. — Matt.  xxv.  21.  His  lord  said  unto  him, 
Well  done,  thou  good  and  faithful  servant ;  thou 
hast  been  faithful  over  a  few  things,  I  will  make 
thee  ruler  over  many  things :  enter  thou  into  the 
joy  of  thy  lord 

A  Sermon  on  the  much-lamented  Death  of  that 
reverend  and  worthy  Servant  of  Christ,  Mr.  Ri- 
chard Adams,  M.  A.  sometime  Fellow  of  Brazen- 
nose  College  in  Oxford,  afterwards  Minister  of 
St.  Mildred,  Bread-street,  London,  more  lately 
Pastor  of  a  Congregation  in  Soiithwark,  who  de- 
ceased Feb.  7,  169'r-8.— Phil.  i.  23.  Having  a 
desire  to  depart,  and  to  be  ivith  Christ  ;  which  is 
far  better 

A  Funeral  Sermon  for  that  excellent  Minister  of 
Christ,  the  trulv  Rev.  William  Bates,  D.  D.  who 
deceased  July"  14,  1699.— John  xi.  16.  Then 
said  Thomas,  which  is  called  Didymus,  unto  his 
fellow-disciples,  Let  us  also  go,  that  wc  may  die 
with  him 

A  Funeral  Sermon  for  that  very  reverend  and  most 
laborious  Servant  of  Christ,  'in  the  Work  of  the 
Ministry,  Mr.  Matthew  Mead,  who  deceased 
Oct.  16,  1699.— 1  Tim.  iv.  16.  Thou  shall  both 
save  thyself  and  the7n  that  hear  thee 

A  Funeral  Sermon  for  that  faithful,  learned,  and 
most  worthy  Minister  of  the  Gospel,  the  Rev. 
Peter  Vink,  B.  D.  who  deceased  Sept.  6,  1702. 
— Acts  V.  20.  Go,  stand  and  speak  in  the  temple 
to  the  people  all  the  words  of  this  life 

A  Funeral  Sermon  for  Mrs.  Esther  Sampson. — 
Luke  xiii.  16.  And  ought  not  this  woman,  being 
a  daughter  of  Abraham,  whom  Satan  hath  bound, 
lo,  these  eighteen  years,  be  loosed  from  this  bond  on 
the  sabbath  day  ? 

A  Discourse  relating  to  the  much-lamented  Death 
and  solemn  Funeral  of  Clueen  Mary. — Heb.  xii. 
23.     A?id  to  the  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect. 

A  Funeral  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  Mrs.  Margaret 
Baxter. — 2  Cor.  v.  8.  We  are  confident,  I  say,  and 
willing  rather  to  be  absent  from  the  body,  and  to 
be  present  with  the  Lord 

A  Funeral  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  Mrs.  Judith 
Hammond. — 1  Cor.  xv.  54.  Death  is  swallowed 
up  in  victory 


932 


938 


956 


Howe. — 2  Tim.  iii.  14.  But  continue  thou  in.  the 
things  which  thou  hast  learned  a'.id  hast  been  assured  of, 
knowing  of  whmn  thou  hast  learned  them 1040 


965 


973 


978 


The  Principles  cf  the  Oracles  of  God. 
Parts. 


In  Two 


996 


1004 


1012 


1021 


Letters 

Fragment  of  a  Sermon 

Mr.  Spademan's  Funeral  Sermon  for  Mr.  John 
6 


1030 

1036 
1039 


1049 


1056 


Part  I.  containing, 

I.  An  Introduction,  proving  the  Necessity  of  their 
being  taught,  in  Two  Lectures,  on  Heb.  v.  12. 
Ye  have  need  that  one  teach  you  again,  which  be 
the  first  principles  of  the  oracles  of  God.     .     .     . 

II.  The  Existence  of  God,  manifest  from  the  Crea- 
tion, in  Four  Lectures,  on  Rom.  i.  20.  For  the 
invisible  things  of  him  from  the  creation  of  the 
world  are  clearly  seen,  being  understood  by  the 
things  that  are  made,  even  his  eternal  power  and 
Godhead ;  so  that  they  are  without  excuse.      .     . 

III.  The  Divine  Authority  of  the  Scriptures,  in 
Four  Lectures,  on  2  Tim.  iii.  16.     All  Scripture 

is  given  by  inspiration  of  God 10(>9 

IV.  The  Unity  of  the  Godhead,  in  Two  Lectures, 
on  James  ii.  19.  Thou  believest  that  there  is  one 
God ;  thou  doest  well :  the  devils  also  believe^  and 
tremble ...     1085 

V.  The  Trinity  of  Persons  in  the  Divine  Essence, 
in  Four  Lectures,  on  1  John  v.  7.  For  there 
are  three  that  bear  record  in  heaven,  the  Father, 
the  Word,  and  the  Holy  Ghoso:  and  these  three 

are  or^ 1091 

VI.  The  Attributes  and  Perfections  of  the  Divine 
Being,  in  Nine  Lectures,  on  Matt.  v.  48.  Be  ye 
therefore  perfect,  even  as  your  Father  which  is  in 
heaven  is  perfect 1103 

Part  II.  containing, 

I.  The  Decrees  or  Counsels  of  God,  in  Eight 
Lectures,  on  Ephes.  i.  11.  In  whom  also  we  havs 
obtained  an  inheritance,  being  predestinated  ac- 
cording to  the  purpose  of  him  who  worketh  all 
things  after  the  counsel  of  his  own  will.     .     .     .       1133 

II.  God's  Work  of  Creation,  in  Seven  Lectures,  on 
Heb.  xi.  3.  Through  faith  we  understand  that 
the  worlds  v-ere  framed  by  the  word  of  God,  so 
that  things  which  are  seen  %oere  not  made  of  things 
which  do  appear 1158 

III.  God's  Creation  of  Man,  in  Three  Lectures,  on 
Gen.  i.  27.  So  God  created  man  in  his  own 
image  ;  in  the  image  of  God  created  he  him.     .       1 177 

IV.  The  Fall  of  the  First  Man,  and  the  Fallen 
State  of  Man,  with  the  Death  and  Misery  conse- 
quent on  each  of  them,  in  Fourteen  Lectures,  on 
Rom.  v.  12.  Wherefore,  as  by  one  man  sin  enter- 
ed into  the  world,  and  death  by  sin ;  and  so  death 
passed  upon  all  men,  for  that  all  have  sinned.    .      1192 

V.  The  Justice  and  Righteousness  of  God  vindica- 
ted, as  to  all  Men's  coming  into  the  World  with 
depraved  Natures,  in  Eight  Lectures,  on  Psalm 
li.  4,  5.  Against  thee,  thee  only,  have  I  sinned, 
and  done  this  evil  in  thy  sight :  that  thou  mightesl 
be  justified  v;hen  thou  speakest,  and  be  clear  jchen 
thou  judgest.  Behold,  I  icas  shapen  in  iniquity  ; 
and  in  sin  did  my  mother  conceive  me.    .     .     . 


1233 


VI.  The  General  and  Special  Grace  of  God,  in 
order  to  the  Recovery  of  Apostate  Souls,  in  Three 
Lectures,  on  Luke  ii.  14.  Good  will  towards 
men , 1255 


THE   LIFE 


OF 


MR.    JOHN    HOWE 


The  lives  of  persons  of  worth  and  eminence,  when 
drawn  up  with  faithfulness  and  care,  have  been  ever 
thought  very  entertaining  and  improving;  and  where 
there  has  been  no  hope  of  recovering  any  exact  account 
of  one  of  a  distinguished  character,  most  people  have 
rather  chosen  to  have  some  short  memorials  of  him,  than 
that  such  particulars  as  might  be  retrieved,  should  be  al- 
together buried  in  oblivion. 

It  may  be  questioned  whether  any  one  now  living  is 
capable  of  doing  complete  justice  to  the  memory  of  the 
truly  reverend  Mr.  John  Howe;  though  there  is  good 
reason  to  believe,  that  the  number  of  those  who  would  set 
a  value  upon  an  exact  account  of  his  significant  life 
(could  such  a  thing  be  compassed)  is  far  from  being  small. 
The  history  of  it  could  not  have  been  drawn  up  to  ad- 
vantage by  any  but  himself,  or  one  that  had  his  personal 
direction  and  assistance ;  or  at  least  to  Avhom  he  had  given 
the  free  use  of  his  papers,  with  a  liberty  of  transcribing 
and  inserting  what  might  be  likely  to  give  entertainment 
to  the  curious  and  inquisitive :  whereas  it  has  unhappily 
fallen  out,  that  he  has  been  so  far  from  leaving  behind  hiin 
any  directions  for  such  a  purpose,  or  narrative  of  the 
most  material  passages  of  his  life,  or  hints  of  what  occur- 
red in  his  general  and  extensive  conversation,  or  even 
committing  his  papers  to  the  care  of  one  that  was  fit  to 
make  use  of  them  for  the  benefit  of  the  public,  that  before 
his  death  he  (as  we  shall  hereafter  see  in  the  course  of 
these  memorials  of  him)  destro)'^ed  a  number  of  writings, 
that  might  have  afforded  good  materials  towards  the 
giving  a  true  historical  account  of  him  to  after  ages. 
'Tis  not  easy  for  us  to  judge  what  particular  reasons  he 
might  have  for  this  part  of  his  conduct,  and  therefore  it 
becomes  us  to  be  .sparing  in  our  censures :  and  yet  I  must 
own  I  cannot  see  why  we  that  are  yet  living  should  here- 
upon slight  or  throw  away,  or  they  that  come  after  us 
bhould  be  deprived  of,  what  is  still  preserved,  and  may  be 
recovered. 

Most  people,  I  doubt  not,  will  readily  conclude,  that  the 
world  has  this  way  lost  what  might  have  been  of  no  small 

a  Preface  to  !VIr.  Chorlton's  Funeral  Sennoii  for  Mr  Henry  Newcome, 


use.  But  after  all,  partly  from  the  memories  of  some  to 
whom  he  was  well  known,  and  whom  he  admitted  to  free- 
dom in  conversation ;  and  partly  from  some  letters  and  pa- 
pers, copies  whereof  were  carefully- preserved  in  the  hands 
of  his  relations,  friends,  and  acquaintance;  and  partly 
also  from  such  hints  and  passages  as  he  has  left  behind 
him  in  the  many  writings  he  has  published,  such  frag- 
ments may  be  gathered  up,  as  cannot,  I  think,  but  be 
agreeable  to  those  to  whom  his  memory  is  precious.  And 
though  in  the  memorials  of  him  that  are  thus  recovered, 
there  will  appear  several  gaps  which  could  not  be  filled 
up ;  yet  are  some  of  the  papers  and  things  preserved  so 
significant  and  worthy  of  notice,  that  I  cannot  help  ex- 
pecting to  have  a  good  number  concurring  with  me  in 
opinion,  that  it  would  be  unhappy  for  them  not  to  be  put 
together,  and  preserved. 

It  is  no  difficult  thing  to  foresee  that  it  will  occasion  no 
small  regret,  in  some  whose  respect  for  the  deceased  rises 
high,  to  find  the  account  given  of  one  that  was  so  eminent 
in  his  profession,  and  who  would  indeed  have  shined 
bright  in  any  .station,  is  .so  very  defective  and  imperfect : 
and  if  it  may  contribute  any  thing  to  their  satisfaction,  the 
compiler  of  this  life  is  free  to  own,  he  should  have  been 
heartily  glad  to  have  been  in  a  capacity  of  drawing  it  up 
in  such  a  manner  as  the  subject  deserved.  He  himself 
had  that  knowledge  of  Mr.  Howe,  that  he  can  readily  say 
of  him,  as  he  did  of  the  celebrated  Mr.  Newcome  of  Man- 
chester, that  "  they  that  knew  him  best,  could  know  but  a 
small  part  of  his  true  and  great  worth,  and  might  ahvays 
apprehend  when  they  knew  most  of  him,  there  was  still 
much  more  that  they  knew  not.""  He  laments  he  could 
not  be  better  furnished  with  materials  in  this  underta- 
king, to  which  he  was  encouraged,  and  in  which  he  was 
assisted  by  many.  And  yet  having  been  at  considera- 
ble pains,  in  collecting  and  putting  together  what  is 
here  offered  to  public  view,  thinks  he  may  be  allowed 
to  hope,  that  such  defects  as  are  ohserved  will  be  easily 
overlooked,  because  he  can  with  safety  say,  it  would 
have  been  no  small  pleasure  to  him  to  have  been  able 
to  have  supplied  them;  and  that  any  mistakes  he  may 
have  run   into    will  be   readily  pardoned,   because   he 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


would  gladly  have  avoided  them,  had  he  but  known  how. 
And  if  it  should  so  happen,  that  any  into  whose  hands 
these  papers  fall,  should  find  some  things  represented  in  a 
manner  that  may  not  be  suited  to  their  particular  gust, 
they  are  desired  to  consider,  that  the  compiler  acted  but 
the  part  of  an  historian,  upon  the  best  informations  he 
could  get,  which  he  would  not  have  regarded,  if  he  had 
not  thought  them  fairly  credible  ;  but  if  any  are  furnished 
with  better  accounts,  and  better  vouchers,  he  not  only  can 
readily  submit,  but  shall  be  glad  to  be  favoured  with  their 
intelligence. 

To  begin,  then,  with  the  first  appearance  of  this  great 
man  upon  this  earthly  stage,  our  Mr.  John  Howe  was 
born  May  17,  1630,  the  29th  day  of  which  month  was  re- 
markable for  the  nativity  of  kmg  Charles  II.  and  which 
very  year,  a  few  months  after,  gave  birth  to  that  excel- 
lent person,  Archbishop  Tillotson,  whhwhom  Mr.  Howe, 
in  his  after-life,  had  a  particular  intimacy,  and  uncom- 
mon freedom.  The  place  of  his  birth  was  Loughbo- 
rough, a  noted  market  town,  in  the  county  of  Leicester ; 
of  which  town  his  father  was  for  some  time  the  worthy 
minister.  I  have  heard  his  father  commended  as  a  per- 
son of  singular  piety  and  probity ;  and  his  mother  as  a 
woman  of  distinguished  sense.  The  father  and  this  son 
of  his,  were  not  the  only  ministers  of  the  family.  For 
there  was  one  Mr.  Obadiah  Howe,  vicar  of  Boston,  in 
Lincolnshire,  who  upon  several  occasions  appeared  in 
print,  and  died  in  1682,b  who  was  our  Mr.  John  Howe's 
uncle.  There  was  also  one  Mr.  William  Howe,  of 
Gedney,  in  the  same  coimty,  that  was  (I  suppose)  of 
the  family,  though  I  cannot  be  positive  how  related  to 
him. 

As  to  the  father  of  our  Mr.  Howe,  he  was  settled  in 
the  parish  of  Loughborough  by  Archbishop  Laud,  and 
afterwards  thrust  out  by  the  same  hand,  on  the  account 
of  his  siding  with  the  puritans,  contrary  to  the  expecta- 
tion of  his  promoter.  He  was  one  of  those  who  could 
not  be  satisfied  to  give  in  to  that  nice  and  punctilious 
conformity,  upon  which  that  prelate  laid  so  great  a 
stress;  and  therefore  it  was  not  thought  fit  to  suffer  him 
to  continue  in  the  exercise  of  his  ministry  in  that  popu- 
lous town.  Great  was  the  rigour  that  was  at  that  time 
used  in  the  ecclesiastical  courts,  by  which,  as  several 
were  driven  into  America,  and  others  into  Holland,  and 
other  foreign  parts,  so  was  this  worthy  person  from 
whom  Mr.  John  Howe  immediately  descended,  driven 
into  Ireland,  whither  he  took  this  his  son  (then  very 
young)  along  with  him.  While  they  continued  in  that 
country,  that  execrable  rebellion  broke  out,  in  which  so 
many  thousands  of  the  poor  protestanls,  who  were  alto- 
gether unprovided,  were  so  miserably  butchered,  and  a 
great  number  of  flourishing  families  ruined  and  undone, 
by  the  enraged  papists,  whose  very  tenderest  mercies 
were  found  to  be  cruelty.  Both  father  and  son  were  at 
that  lime  exposed  to  very  threatening  danger,  the  place 
to  which  they  had  retired  being  for  several  weeks  to- 
gether besieged  and  a.ssaulted  by  the  rebels,  though 
without  success.     A  very  special  providence  did  upon 


b  Wood's  Athon.  Oxon.  vol.  ii.  p.  718. 

c  Atb.  Oxon.  vol.  ii.  p.  1014.  d  Fasti  O.xon.  p.  750. 


this  occasion  guard  that  life,  which  was  afterwards  made 
so  serviceable  to  great  and  considerable  purposes.  Being 
driven  from  thence  by  the  war,  which  continued  for  some 
years,  the  father  returned  back  into  his  native  country, 
and  settled  in  the  county  palatine  of  Lancaster;  and 
there  it  was  that  our  Mr.  Howe  went  through  the  first 
rudiments  of  learning,  and  was  trained  up  in  the  know- 
ledge of  the  tongues,  though  I  have  not  been  able  to  get 
any  certain  information  who  were  his  particular  instruct- 
ors, nor  any  further  notices  relating  to  his  infancy  and 
childhood. 

He  was  sent  pretty  early  (I  cannot  say  exactly  in  what 
year)  to  Christ  College,  in  Cambridge,  where  falling 
among  such  persons  as  Dr.  Henry  More,  and  Dr.  Cud- 
worth,  of  both  whom  he  was  a  great  admirer,  I  think  it 
is  not  to  be  wondered  at,  that  in  his  early  days  he  received 
that  Platonic  tincture,  which  so  remarkably  runs  through 
the  writings  which  he  drew  up  and  published  in  his  ad- 
vanced years.  As  for  Dr.  More,  there  was  an  intimacy 
between  him  and  Mr.  Howe,  that  continued  till  the  Doc- 
tor's death;  which  being  known  to  Dr.  Davis  of  Heyden, 
(who  had  the  most  profoimd  veneration  imaginable  for 
the  Doctor,)  he  the  more  respected  Mr.  Howe  upon  that 
account. 

He  continued  at  Cambridge  till  he  took  the  degree 
of  B.  A.  and  then  removed  to  Oxford.  Mr.  Wood,  the 
antiquary,  says  that  he  was  of  Brazen-nose  College,  in 
Oxon,  and  Bible  Clerk  there  in  Michaelmas  term,  1648,<= 
and  that  he  there  took  his  Bachelor's  degree,  Jan.  18, 
1649.d  It  was  a  common  thing  then  to  take  the  same 
degree  in  both  universities,  and  I  suppose  it  is  so  to 
this  day. 

He  followed  his  studies  close,  and  his  great  attainments 
in  learning,  joined  with  his  exemplary  piety,  so  recom- 
mended him,  that  he  was  at  length  duly  elected  Fellow  of 
Magdalen  College,  (of  which  famous  society  he  was  a 
bright  ornament,)  after  he  had  been  made  Demy  by  the 
parliament  visitors.  Mr.  Wood  mentioning  this  of  the 
visitors,  intends  it  I  suppose  as  a  reflection;  but  I  must 
own  that  may  have  been  the  case,  and  yet  there  may  be 
no  just  matter  of  reflection  in  it  either  on  them  or  on  him. 
Not  on  them,  supposing  the  person  in  whose  room  he  suc- 
ceeded deserved  to  be  ejected  ;  nor  on  him,  supposing  he 
did  nothing  unbecoming  to  get  into  his  place  when  he  was 
ejected. 

He  had  several  contemporaries  in  this  college,  that 
afterwards  proved  nonconformists,  as  Mr.  Theophilus 
Gale,  Mr.  Thomas  Danson,  Mr.  Samuel  Blower,  and 
Mr.  John  Spilsbury.  Of  the  two  first,  Mr.  Wood  has 
given  some  account,*  among  the  Oxford  Writers;  as  I 
also  have  done,  in  my  memoirs  of  those  who  were  eject- 
ed for  nonconformity  :f  but  the  two  latter  are  wholly 
omitted  by  Mr.  Wood,  though  they  were  both  of  them 
Oxonians,  and  both  of  them  graduates,  because  they 
were  not  writers.  Mr.  Blower,  who  died  pastor  of  a 
congregation  of  dissenters,  in  the  town  of  Abingdon,  in 
the  county  of  Berks,"  was  often  used  to  say  with  plea- 
sure, when  Mr.  Howe  was  at  any  time  spoken  of  in  his 


e  Athon.  Oxon.  vol.  ii.  p.  G08,  1016. 
f  Abridg.  vol.  ii.  p.  64,  648. 


S  Abridg.  vol.  ii.  p.  542. 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


company,  that  the}''  two  were  born  in  the  same  town, 
went  to  the  same  school,  and  were  of  the  same  colle^ 
in  the  university.  And  Mr.  Spilsbury,  who  was  eject- 
ed for  nonconformity  from  Bromsgrove  in  Worcester- 
shire,ii  was  one  with  whom  Mr.  Howe  kept  up  a  most 
intimate  and  endearing  correspondence  by  letter  to  his 
dying  day. 

I  might  also  mention  two  others,  who  were  Fellows 
of  the  same  college,  who  were  ejected  in  1G62,  whom 
Mr.  "Wood  wholly  overlooks,  viz.  Mr.  George  Por- 
teri  and  Mr.  James  Ashhurst,k  who  died  at  Newington 
Green,  near  London.  It  is  true  that  they  were  neither 
of  them  writers,  and  yet  they  were  both  graduates,  the 
former  being  B.  D.  and  the  latter  M.  A.  and  therefore 
some  notice  ought  to  have  been  taken  of  them  in  his 
Fasti.  Such  things  as  these  make  me  apprehend  that 
that  author  designedly  omitted  several  of  the  noncon- 
formists, for  fear  their  number  should  have  appeared  too 
large  and  considerable. 

The  famous  Dr.  Thomas  Goodwin  was  President  of 
the  college,  at  the  same  time  that  Mr.  Howe  and  the 
others  whom  I  have  now  mentioned  were  Fellows.  He 
had  a  gathered  church  among  the  scholars  of  that 
house,  and  finding  Mr.  Howe,  who  had  an  established 
reputation  among  them,  did  not  offer  himself  to  join  with 
them,  he  took  an  occasion  to  speak  to  him  about  it, 
when  they  two  were  by  themselves,  without  any 
other  company  with  them;  and  signified  his  surprise 
that  one  of  his  character  for  serious  piety  should  not 
embrace  such  an  opportunity  of  Christian  fellowship, 
which  might  be  likely  to  have  many  good  consequences 
attending  it.  Mr.  Howe,  Avith  great  frankness,  told 
him  that  the  true  and  only  reason  why  he  had  been 
so  silent  about  that  matter,  was  because  he  under- 
stood they  laid  a  considerable  stress  among  them,  upon 
some  distinguishing  peculiarities,  of  which  he  had  no 
fondness,  though  he  could  give  others  their  liberty  to 
take  their  own  way,  without  censuring  them,  or  having 
any  unkind  thoughts  of  them ;  but  that  if  they  would 
admit  him  into  their  society  upon  catholic  terms,  he 
would  readily  become  one  of  them.  The  Doctor  em- 
braced him,  and  told  him  he  would  do  it  with  all  his 
heart;  and  that,  to  his  knowledge,  it  would  be  much  to 
the  satisfaction  and  edification  of  all  that  were  con- 
cerned :  and  he  thereupon  became  a  member  of  that 
society.  It  is  with  no  small  pleasure  that  I  relate  this 
passage,  which  is  a  proof  that  Dr.  Goodwin  was  not  so 
narrow  and  confined  in  his  temper  and  principles  as 
some  people  have  represented  him. 

Mr.  Howe's  promotion  and  reputation  in  the  college, 
and  through  the  university,  added  new  spurs  to  his 
diligence  and  application,  which  was  so  great,  that  he 
furnished  himself  with  a  large  fund  of  rational  and 
theological  learning,  the  fruits  whereof  were  very  con- 
spicuous in  his  following  life.  He  took  the  degree  of 
M.  A.  July  9,  1652  ;i  Mr.  Theophilus  Gale,  his  fellow- 
collegiate,  whom  I  was  mentioning  but  now,  having 
taken  the  very  same  degree  but  the  month  before.  And 
by  this  time  he  had  not  only  gone  through  a  course  of 

b  Abriik.  voL  ii.  e  772.       i  lb.  p.  70.       k  lb.  p.  71.       1  Fasti  Oxon.  p.  99. 


philosophy,  conversed  closely  with  the  heathen  moral- 
ists, read  over  the  accounts  we  have  remaining  of  pagan 
theology,  the  writings  of  the  school-men,  and  several 
s)^stems  and  common-places  of  the  reformers,  and  the 
divines  that  succeeded  them,  but  (as  he  himself  sig- 
nified to  one  from  whom  I  had  it)  had  thoroughly 
studied  the  sacred  Scriptures,  and  from  thence  drawn 
up  a  body  of  divinity  for  himself  and  his  own  use, 
which  he  saw  very  little  occasion  afterwards  to  vary 
from,  in  compliance  with  the  schemes  of  others. 

After  his  taking  his  last  degree,  Mr.  Howe  became 
a  preacher,  and  was  ordained  by  Mr.  Charles  Herle  at 
his  church  of  Winwick  in  Lancashire,  which  Mr. 
Wood  says  is  one  of  the  richest  churches  in  the  king- 
dom. This  Mr.  Herle  was  a  very  noted  man  in  those 
times ;  and  upon  the  death  of  Dr.  Twiss,  was  chosen 
prolocutor  of  the  Assembly  of  Divines  at  Westminster. 
In  his  parish  there  were  several  chapelries,  and  the 
ministers  that  officiated  in  them  assisted  at  Mr.  Howe's 
ordination.  And  he  would  often  say  thai  this  Mr. 
Herle  was  a  primitive  bishop,  and  the  assistants  in  his 
several  chapels  were  his  clergy ;  and  they  joining  in 
laying  on  hands  upon  him,  he  thought  few  in  modem 
times  had  so  truly  primitive  an  ordination  as  he.  And 
Mr.  Howe  always  spoke  of  this  Mr.  Herle  with  a  very 
great  and  particular  respect. 

Some  time  after,  by  an  unexpected  conduct  of  Divine 
Providence,  he  was  called  to  the  stated  exercise  of  his 
ministry  in  the  town  of  Great  Torrington,  in  the  county 
of  Devon.  Dr.  Walker^  tells  us  that  this  place  is  a 
sort  of  donative  or  curacy,  belonging  to  Christ  Church 
in  Oxford,  but  deemed  equivalent  to  one  held  by  insti- 
tution. He  says  that  Mr.  Theophilus  Powel  was  turned 
out  here  about  1646,  and  was  succeeded  by  the  famous 
independent  Mr.  Lewis  Stukely ;  and  after  him  came 
Mr.  Howe. 

He  was  but  young  at  the  time  of  his  first  settlement 
in  that  town,  and  j'et  even  there  did  he  wonderfully 
fulfil  his  ministry,  and  his  labours  were  blessed  with 
great  success.  When  he  first  came  thither,  several  of 
the  inhabitants  were  members  of  the  congregational 
church  at  Biddeford,  of  which  Mr.  William  Bartletn 
was  pastor,  who  had  been  Mr.  Howe's  particular  ac- 
quaintance at  Oxford.  Being  weary  of  the  fatigue  of 
going  five  or  six  miles  every  sacrament  day,  and  dis- 
posed to  sit  down  under  Mr.  Howe's  ministry,  these 
people  desired  a  dismission  from  the  church  at  Bidde- 
ford, and  Mr.  Bartlet  readily  resigned  them  to  Mr. 
Howe,  in  whom  there  was  a  general  concurrence ;  and 
he  had  a  numerous  auditor}',  and  a  very  flourishing 
Christian  society  under  his  pastoral  care,  and  thought 
of  no  other  than  of  living  and  dying  with  them. 

I  shall  not  easily  forget  the  account  he  once  gave 
me  in  private  conversation,  of  the  great  pains  he  took 
among  them,  without  any  help  or  assistance,  on  the 
public  fasts,  which  in  those  days  returned  pretty  fre- 
quentl}'',  and  were  generally  kept  with  very  great  so- 
lemnity. He  told  rne  it  was  upon  those  occasions  his 
common  way  to  begin  about  nine  in  the  morning,  with 


m  Attempt,  part  ii.  p.  339. 


n  See  Abridg.  vol.  ii.  p.  SiO. 


IT 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


a  prayer  for  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  in  which  he 
begged  a  blessing  on  the  work  of  the  day ;  and  after- 
wards read  and  expounded  a  chapter  or  psalm,  in  which 
he  spent  about  three  quarters;  then  prayed  for  about 
an  hour,  preached  for  another  hour,  and  prayed  for 
about  half  an  hour.  After  this,  he  retired  and  took 
some  little  refreshment  for  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
or  more,  (the  people  singing  all  the  while,)  and  then 
came  again  into  the  pulpit,  and  prayed  for  another 
hour,  and  gave  them  another  sermon  of  about  an  hour's 
length ;  and  so  concluded  the  service  of  the  day,  at 
about  four  o'clock  in  the  evening,  with  about  half  an 
hour  or  more  in  prayer:  a  sort  of  service  that  few  could 
have  gone  through  without  inexpressible  weariness 
both  to  themselves  and  their  auditories  !  But  he  had  a 
strong  head,  a  warm  heart,  and  a  good  bodily  consti- 
tution: and  the  more  he  spent  himself  in  his  Master's 
service,  the  more  was  he  beloved  by  the  inhabitants  of 
his  parish. 

While  he  continued  his  painful  labours  in  this  town, 
he  kept  up  a  good  correspondence  with  the  ministers 
in  the  neighbourhood,  and  all  over  the  country,  and 
was  greatly  esteemed:  but  there  was  a  particular  inti- 
macy between  him  and  the  famous  Mr.  George  Hughes 
of  Plymouth,"  who  made  a  greater  figure,  and  had  a 
greater  interest  and  influence,  than  most  of  the  minis- 
ters in  those  parts ;  and  he  was  married  to  his  daughter 
March  1,  1654.  These  two  kept  up  a  weekly  mutual 
correspondence  by  Latin  letters,  and  I  have  a  memor- 
able passage  to  relate  as  to  one  of  them.  Mr.  Howe 
happened  to  have  a  fire  in  his  house  at  Torrington, 
which  might  have  been  ruinous  to  his  family,  if  a  vio- 
lent rain  which  fell  just  at  that  time  had  not  con- 
tributed greatly  to  extinguish  it.  On  that  very  day  it 
so  fell  out  that  he  received  a  letter  from  his  father 
Hughes,  which  concluded  with  this  prayer ;  Sit  ros 
cccli  super  habilaciduvi  vestrum :  Let  the  dew  of  hea- 
ven be  upon  your  dwelling :  which  was  a  prayer,  the 
Reasonableness  of  which  for  his  children  in  the  letter  of 
it,  the  good  man  could  not  apprehend  at  the  time  of 
writing ;  but  they  could  not  but  affectionately  remark 
it  at  the  receipt  of  it. 

Some  time  after  (I  cannot  with  certainty  say  how 
long)  Mr.  Howe  having  occasion  to  take  a  journey  to 
London,  was  detained  there  longer  than  he  intended. 
He  had  the  curiosity  to  go  one  Lord's  day  (and  it  was 
on  the  last  that  he  designed  to  continue  in  town)  to  be 
an  auditor  at  the  chapel  at  Whitehall ;  but  I  cannot 
meet  with  any  one  that  can  with  certainty  recollect 
who  was  to  be  that  day  the  preacher.  Cromwell,  who 
generally  had  his  eyes  every  where,  spied  out  Mr. 
Howe  in  the  audilor}-^,  and  knew  him  by  his  garb  to 
be  a  country  minister,  and  thought  he  discerned  some- 
thing more  than  ordinary  in  his  countenance,  and  sent 
a  messenger  to  him  to  desire  to  .speak  with  him  when 
the  worship  of  God  was  over.  Upon  his  coming  to 
him,  Cromwell  requested  him  to  preach  before  him  the 
Lord's  day  following.  Mr.  Howe  weis  surprised  with 
the  unexpected  motion,  and  modestly  desired  to  be  ex- 

o  See  Abridg.  vol.  ii.  p.  23S, 


cused.  Cromwell  told  him  it  was  a  vain  thing  to  at- 
tempt to  excuse  himself,  for  that  he  would  take  no 
denial.  Mr.  Howe  pleaded,  that  having  despatched 
what  business  he  had  in  town,  he  was  tending  home- 
wards, and  could  not  be  absent  any  longer  without  in- 
convenience. Cromwell  inquired  what  great  damage 
he  was  liable  to  sustain,  by  tarrying  a  little  longer  1 
Mr.  Howe  replied,  that  his  people,  that  were  very  kind 
to  him,  would  be  uneasy,  and  think  he  neglected  them, 
and  slighted  their  respect.  Cromwell  promised  to  write 
to  them  himself,  and  to  send  down  one  to  supply  his 
place,  and  actually  did  so;  and  Mr.  Howe  staid  and 
preached  as  he  was  desired;  and  when  he  had  given 
him  one  sermon,  Cromwell  still  pressed  for  a  second 
and  a  third ;  and  at  last,  after  a  great  deal  of  free  con- 
versation in  private,  nothing  would  serve  him  (who 
could  not  bear  to  be  contradicted,  after  he  had  once  got 
the  power  into  his  hands)  but  he  must  have  him  to  be 
his  household  chaplain,  and  he  would  take  care  his 
place  should  be  supplied  at  Torrington,  to  the  full 
satisfaction  of  the  people.  Mr.  Howe  did  all  that  lay 
in  his  power  to  excuse  himself  and  get  off;  but  no 
denial  would  be  admitted.  And  at  length  (though  not 
without  great  reluctance)  he  was  prevailed  with  to 
comply,  and  remove  with  his  family  to  Whitehall, 
where  several  of  his  children  were  born:  and  in  this 
difficult  station  he  endeavoured  to  be  faithful,  and  to 
keep  a  good  conscience.  And  this  I  suppose  is  the 
time  when,  as  Mr.  Wood  informs  us,p  he  became  Lec- 
turer of  St.  Margaret's  church  in  Westminster.  Certain 
it  is,  that  he  was  then  a  celebrated  preacher,  and  gene- 
rally respected ;  and  it  has  been  observed  by  several, 
that  there  was  hardly  any  man  that  was  in  an  eminent 
public  station  in  those  critical  times,  and  that  Avas  ad- 
mitted to  the  knowledge  of  so  many  secrets  as  he,  that 
was  so  free  from  censure  in  the  changes  that  afterwards 
succeeded.  A  plain  argument  of  uncommon  conduct 
and  caution  ! 

Never  can  I  find  him  so  much  as  charged,  even  by 
those  that  have  been  most  forward  to  inveigh  against 
a  number  of  his  contemporaries,  with  improving  his 
interest  in  those  who  then  had  the  management  of 
affairs  in  their  hands,  either  to  the  enriching  himself, 
or  the  doing  ill  offices  to  others,  though  of  known  dif- 
fering sentiments.  He  readily  embraced  every  occarsion 
that  offered,  of  serving  the  interest  of  religion  and 
learning,  and  opposing  the  errors  and  designs  which 
at  that  time  threatened  both.  Among  many  instances 
of  his  generous  temper,  I  shall  mention  one,  which 
was  his  seasonable  service  to  Dr.  Seth  Ward,  who  was 
afterwards  Bishop  of  Exeter,  and  Sarum,  successively. 
The  case  in  short  was  this.  In  1657,  that  gentleman, 
who  had  succeeded  Mr.  John  Greaves  some  time  before 
as  Astronomy  professor  in  the  university  of  Oxon,  stood 
candidate  for  the  principalship  of  Jesus  college  in  the 
same  university,  upon  the  resignation  of  Dr.  Michael 
Roberts.  Dr.  Ward  had  the  majority  of  the  Fellows 
for  him ;  but  Mr.  Francis  Howell  of  Exeter  college 
made  an  interest  in  the  Protector  Cromwell,  and  obtained 

p  Athen.  Oxon.  vol.  ii.  p.  1014. 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


his  promise  for  the  filling  up  that  vacancy.  Dr.  Ward 
not  knowing  that  matters  had  gone  so  far,  was  for 
making  an  interest  in  the  Protector  loo,  and  in  order  to 
it  applied  to  Mr.  Howe,  who,  without  making  great 
promises  as  to  success,  readily  offered  to  introduce  him 
to  the  Protector,  and  do  him  what  service  he  was  able. 
Having  obtained  an  audience,  and  they  three  being 
together,  Mr.  Howe  gave  Cromwell  a  great  character 
of  Dr.  Ward,  with  respect  to  his  learning,  and  signified 
how  ill  it  would  sound,  if  a  man  of  his  known  merit 
should  be  discountenanced;  especially  when  he  had  the 
majority  of  the  Fellows  on  his  side.  Cromwell  replied, 
that  Dr.  Roberts  having  resigned  his  principalship 
into  his  hands,  he  had  been  informed  that  it  was  his 
right  to  fill  up  the  vacancy ;  and  he  had  given  his 
promise  to  Mr.  Howell,  and  could  not  draw  back.  But 
immediately  taking  Mr.  Howe  aside,  and  discoursing 
him  freely  about  Dr.  Ward,  and  he  telling  him  that  in 
his  apprehension  it  Avould  be  much  for  his  honour  to 
do  something  for  the  Doctor,  and  that  he  would  thereby 
encourage  men  of  merit  and  learning,  he  returned  to 
Dr.  Ward,  who  continued  waiting,  and  told  him  that 
he  found  Mr.  Howe  to  be  much  his  friend,  and  was 
upon  his  report  of  him  disposed  to  give  him  some 
tokens  of  his  regard :  and  thereupon  he  pleasantly 
asked  him  what  he  thought  the  principalship  of  Jesus 
College  might  be  worth  1  The  Doctor  freely  told  him 
what  was  the  value  of  it  according  to  common  com- 
putation. And  thereupon  he  gave  the  Doctor  a  promise, 
that  he  would  allow  him  the  sum  that  he  mentioned 
annuall}''.  This  was  at  that  time  reckoned  a  seasonable 
kindness :  and  the  Doctor  expressed  his  grateful  sense 
of  it  to  Mr.  Howe  some  time  after,  when  upon  the 
change  of  the  times  he  became  a  greater  man. 

There  were  many  others  to  whom  Mr.  Howe  was 
very  serviceable  while  he  continued  at  Whitehall :  and 
never  was  he  known  to  be  backward  to  assist  any  of 
the  royalists  or  episcopalians  in  distress,  if  they  were 
but  persons  of  real  merit.  He  befriended  several  with 
his  advice  and  interest  upon  their  being  obliged  to  ap- 
pear before  the  Triers,  in  order  to  the  having  their 
approbation  before  their  being  allowed  to  ofl[iciate  in 
public  as  ministers.  Among  the  rest  that  applied  to 
him  for  advice  upon  that  occasion,  the  celebrated  Dr. 
Thomas  Fuller,  who  is  so  well  known  by  his  punning 
writings,  was  one.  That  gentleman,  who  was  gene- 
rally upon  the  merry  pin,  being  to  take  his  turn  before 
these  Triers,  of  whom  he  had  a  very  formidable  notion, 
thus  accosted  Mr.  Howe,  when  he  applied  to  him  for 
advice.  Sir,  said  he,  you  may  observe  I  am  a  pretty 
corpulent  man,  and  I  am  to  go  through  a  passage  that 
is  very  straight,  I  beg  you  would  be  so  kind  as  to  give 
me  a  shove,  and  help  me  through.  He  freely  gave 
him  his  advice,  and  he  promised  to  follow  it ;  and  when 
he  appeared  before  them,  and  they  proposed  to  him  the 
usual  question.  Whether  he  had  ever  had  any  experience 
of  a  work  of  grace  upon  his  heart  1  he  gave  this  in  for 
answer,  that  he  could  appeal  to  the  Searcher  of  hearts, 
that  he  made  conscience  of  his  very  thoughts  ;  with  which 
answer  they  were  satisfied,  as  indeed  they  well  might. 


In  short,  so  generous  was  Mr.  Howe,  in  using  his 
interest  on  the  behalf  of  pej.sons  of  any  worth  that 
applied  to  him,  that  I  have  been  informed  Cromwell 
once  freely  told  him,  that  he  had  obtamed  many  favours 
for  others ;  but,  says  he,  I  wonder  Avhen  the  time  is  to 
come  that  you  will  move  for  any  thing  for  yourself,  oi 
j'our  family.  A  plain  argument  that  he  took  him  for  a 
very  disinterested  person,  and  as  free  from  selfishness 
as  he  was  from  partiality. 

And  here  I  know  not  how  to  forbear  mentioning  a 
passage  that  I  had  from  Mr.  Howe's  own  mouth,  when 
I  had  the  happiness  of  some  hours'  free  conversation 
with  him,  without  any  interruption.  I  had  heard  from 
several,  (and  it  had  been  confirmed  to  me  by  Mr. 
Jeremy  White,  who  lived  at  Whitehall  at  the  very 
same  time  with  Mr.  Howe,)  that  the  notion  of  a  par- 
ticular faith  in  prayer  prevailed  much  in  Cromwell's 
court;  and  that  it  was  a  common  opinion  among  them, 
that  such  as  were  in  a  special  manner  favoured  of  God. 
when  they  offered  up  prayers  and  supplications  to  him 
for  his  mercies,  either  for  themselves  or  others,  often 
had  such  impressions  made  upon  their  minds  and  spirits 
by  a  divine  hand,  as  signified  to  them,  not  only  in  the 
general  that  their  prayers  would  be  heard,  and  gra- 
ciously answered,  but  that  the  particular  mercies  that 
were  sought  for  would  be  certainly  bestowed;  nay, 
and  sometimes  also  intimated  to  them  in  what  way  and 
manner  they  would  be  afforded,  and  pointed  out  to 
them  future  events  beforehand,  which  in  reality  is  the 
same  with  inspiration.  Having  heard  of  mischief  done 
by  the  prevalence  of  this  notion,  I  took  the  opportunity 
that  offered,  when  there  was  nothing  to  hinder  the 
utmost  freedom,  to  inquire  of  Mr.  Howe  what  he  had 
known  about  this  matter,  and  what  were  his  appre- 
hensions concerning  itl  He  told  me  the  prevalence  of 
the  notion  that  I  mentioned  at  Whitehall,  at  the  time 
when  he  lived  there,  was  too  notorious  to  be  called  in 
question ;  and  that  not  a  little  pains  was  taken  to  cul- 
tivate and  support  it;  and  that  he  once  heard  a  sermon 
there,  (from  a  person  of  note,)  the  avowed  design  of 
which  was  to  maintain  and  defend  it.  He  said,  he  was 
so  fully  convinced  of  the  ill  tendency  of  such  a  prin- 
ciple, that  afler  the  hearing  this  sermon,  he  thought 
himself  bound  in  conscience,  when  it  came  next  to  his 
turn  to  preach  before  Cromwell,  to  set  himself  indus- 
triously to  oppose  it,  and  to  beat  down  that  spiritual 
pride  and  confidence,  which  such  fancied  impulses  and 
impressions  were  apt  to  produce  and  cherish.  He  told 
me,  he  observed  that  while  he  was  in  the  pulpit 
Cromwell  heard  him  with  great  attention,  but  would 
sometimes  knit  his  brows,  and  discover  great  uneasi- 
ness. When  the  sermon  was  over,  he  told  me  a  person 
of  distinction  came  to  him,  and  asked  him  if  he  knew 
what  he  had  done ;  and  signified  it  to  him  as  his  ap- 
prehension that  Cromwell  would  be  so  incensed  upon 
that  discourse,  that  he  would  find  it  very  difficut  ever 
to  make  his  peace  with  him,  or  secure  his  favour  for  tht 
future.  Mr.  Howe  replied,  that  he  had  but  dischargea 
his  conscience,  and  could  leave  the  event  with  God 
He  told  me  that  he  afterwards  observed  Cromwell  was 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE, 


cooler  in  his  carriage  to  him  than  before ;  and  some- 
times he  thought  he  would  have  spoken  to  him  of  the 
matter,  but  he  never  did,  and  rather  chose  to  forbear. 
He  added,  that  he  had  a  great  deal  of  satisfaction  in 
what  he  did  in  this  case,  both  in  the  time  of  doing  it, 
and  ever  afterwards,  to  the  time  of  our  conversing  to- 
gether upon  this  subject. 

I  well  remember,  that  upon  this  occasion  I  begged 
of  Mr.  Howe  a  sight  of  the  notes  of  this  sermon  of  his 
upon  a  particular  faith  in  prayer,  if  ever  he  could 
recover  them,  and  he  gave  me  a  promise ;  and  when  I 
reminded  him  of  it  some  time  after,  he  told  me  he  had 
looked  for  the  notes,  but  could  not  find  them.  And  not 
long  since  I  desired  a  search  might  be  made  for  it, 
among  the  few  notes  of  his  that  remain.  And  what 
could  be  found,  though  it  is  but  a  fragment,  shall  be 
added  in  the  close  of  this  account. 

Whilst  he  continued  in  Cromwell's  family,  he  was 
often  put  upon  secret  services;  but  they  were  always 
honourable,  and  such  as,  according  to  the  best  of  his 
judgment,  might  be  to  the  benefit  either  of  the  public, 
or  of  particular  persons.  And  when  he  was  once  en- 
gaged he  used  all  the  diligence,  and  secrecy,  and  des- 
patch, he  was  able.  Once  particularly  I  have  been 
informed,  he  was  sent  by  Oliver  in  haste,  upon  a  cer- 
tain occaj^ion,  to  Oxford,  to  a  meeting  of  ministers  there, 
and  he  made  such  despatch,  that  though  he  rode  by  St. 
Giles's  Church  at  twelve  o'clock,  he  arrived  at  Oxford  by 
a  quarter  after  five.  In  short,  he  so  behaved  himself  in 
this  station,  that  he  had  the  ill  will  of  as  few  as  any 
man,  and  the  particular  friendship  of  the  great  Dr. 
Wilkins,  who  was  afterwards  Bishop  of  Chester,  and 
several  others,  wlio  were  great  supports  of  real  piety 
and  goodness  in  those  times,  and  afterwards  eminent 
under  the  legal  establishment. 

When  Oliver  died,  his  son  Richard  succeeded  him  as 
Protector,  and  Mr.  Howe  stood  in  the  same  relation  to 
the  son,  as  he  had  done  to  the  father.  He  was  still 
chaplain  at  court,  when  in  October,  1G58,  he  met  with 
the  congregational  brethren  at  the  Savoy,  at  the  time 
of  their  drawing  up  their  Confession  of  faith,  &c.<i  And 
though  he  meddled  not  with  state  affairs  neither  then 
nor  afterwards,  yet  he  has  often  been  heard  to  say,  that 
he  was  in  his  judgment  very  much  against  Richard's 
parting  with  his  parliament,  which  he  easily  foresaw 
would  issue  in  his  own  ruin.  I  have  been  told  by  a 
friend,  that  discoursing  once  freely  with  Mr.  Howe, 
about  the  setting  Richard  aside,  he  intimated  to  him' 
that  It  was  but  a  parenthesis  in  a  public  paper,  that 
was  the  occasion  of  the  great  ill-will  of  the  officers  to  him 
which  rose  at  length  to  that  height,  that  nothing  would 
satisfy,  but  the  pulling  him  down.  And  when  the  same 
person  signified  in  a  way  of  free  discourse  to  Mr.  Howe, 
that  he  had  heard  Richard  reflected  on  as  a  weak 
man,  he  with  some  warmth  made  this  return;  How 
could  he  be  a  weak  man,  when  upon  the  remonstrance 
that  was  brought  from  the  army  by  his  brother  Fleet- 
wood, he  stood  it  out  all  night  against  his  whole  council, 
and  continued  the  debate  till  four  o'clock  in  the  morning, 

n  .'5ce  Moninirs  of  the  Life  of  Ur.  J.  Owen,  prefixed  to  tl.e  complete  col- 
lection of  Ills  Sermons,  p.  21.  !>■>,. 


having  none  but  Thurlow  to  abet  him;  maintaining 
that  the  dissolving  that  parliament  would  be  both  his 
ruin  and  theirs  !  Upon  some  further  discourse  on  the 
same  subject,  Mr.  Howe  told  my  friend,  that  Fleetwood 
undertook  with  great  solemnity,  that  if  Richard  would 
but  comply  with  the  proposal  that  was  made  him,  the 
army  should  not  do  him  the  least  damage.  And  he 
added,  that  when  Fleetwood  was  afterwards  put  in 
mind  of  this,  all  the  answer  he  returned  was,  that  he 
thought  he  had  had  more  interest  in  the  army  than  he 
found  he  had.  And  Mr.  Howe  further  added,  that  ac- 
cidentally meeting  with  Major-General  Berry,  who  was 
in  those  times  so  active  and  busy,  some  time  after  the 
restoration,  when  he  was  but  in  very  mean  circum- 
stances, he  very  freely  told  him,  with  tears  running 
down  his  cheeks,  that  if  Richard  had  but  at  that  time 
hanged  up  him,  and  nine  or  ten  more,  the  nation  might 
have  been  happy.  But  without  applauding  what  w£is 
weak,  or  vindicating  what  was  blameable,  it  becomes 
us  to  be  sensible,  that  the  great  and  infinitely  wise 
God  had  purposes  to  serve,  that  were  out  of  the  reach 
of  human  foresight. 

When  the  army  had  got  their  will,  and  set  Richard 
aside,  they,  as  it  was  foreseen  they  would,  soon  fell 
themselves;  and  a  way  was  made  by  Monk  to  bring 
things  back  into  the  old  channel.  Mr.  Howe  returned 
to  his  people  at  Torrington,  and  continued  his  labours 
among  them  till  the  restoration :  at  which  time  there 
was  such  a  madness  attending  the  universal  joy,  that  it 
is  a  perfect  wonder  the  nation  ever  in  any  measure  re- 
covered it.  The  king  being  restored,  made  for  some 
time  more  use  than  was  usual  of  the  lords-lieutenants 
and  their  deputies  to  keep  the  several  counties  of  the 
kingdom  in  awe:  many  were  made  offenders  for  a 
word,  and  the  most  cautious  preachers  were  accused 
and  censured,  if  they  were  not  intoxicated  to  the  same 
degree  with  their  neighbours.  Among  the  rest,  Mr. 
Howe,  though  as  cautious  as  most  men  of  giving  dis- 
turbance to  any,  yet  met  with  some  trouble,  in  the  year 
IGGO,  a  few  months  after  the  restoration,  which  appears 
to  have  been  given  him  by  persons  that  were  desirous 
to  do  a  pleasure  to  those  who  then  had  the  ascendant. 

He  was  informed  against  by  John  Evans  and 
William  Morgan,  as  delivering  somewhat  that  was 
seditious  and  even  treasonable,  in  two  sermons  preached 
from  Gal.  vi.  7,  8.  on  Sep.  30,  and  Oct.  14.  The  inform- 
ation was  given  before  Mr.  Wellington  the  mayor, 
who  took  an  engagement  from  Mr.  Howe,  and  othf>rs 
on  his  behalf,  for  his  appearance  at  the  next  sessions, 
to  answer  to  that  matter.  Before  that  time,  some  of 
the  deputy-lieutenants  of  the  county  (who  were  not 
willing  the  magistrates  of  the  several  corporations 
should  be  too  powerful)  sent  word  to  the  mayor  that 
they  could  not  be  present  at  the  appointed  session,  but 
desired  to  hear  the  matter  at  some  other  time,  and  pre- 
fixed a  day  for  that  purpose,  to  which  the  mayor  accord- 
ingly adjourned  the  sessions  in  compliance  with  their 
desire.  And  whereas  Mr.  Howe  in  open  court  demanded 
the  benefit  of  the  statute  of  1  Edw.  VI.  and  I  Eliz,  to 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


vu 


purge  himself  by  more  evidences  than  the  informers,  the 
mayor  administered  an  oath  to  one  and  twenty  witnesses, 
who  were  judicious  men,  enjoining  them  on  his  majesty's 
behalf  to  declare  the  truth  of  the  matter ;  and  they  all  clear- 
ed Mr.  Howe  from  the  guilt  in  the  accusation,  and  the 
court  accordingly  discharged  him. 

Some  time  after  this,  on  November  24th,  one  of  the 
constables  of  the  town  summoned  the  mayor  to  appear 
before  the  deputy-lieutenant,  by  a  warrant,  dated  the 
14th,  which  he  had  kept  ten  days  by  him ;  and  the 
same  being  signed  by  four  gentlemen  who  had  been  in 
town  the  day  that  the  warrant  bore  date,  (which  was  the 
very  day  of  the  hearing,)  and  the  sheriff's  hand,  who 
was  not  then  in  town,  being  also  to  the  warrant,  the 
mayor  doubted  whether  the  warrant  was  made  by  the 
gentlemen  or  not;  and  thereupon  wrote  to  the  sheriff, 
that  in  case  he  might  not  be  excused  from  appearing, 
he  would  prepare  for  it,  as  far  as  would  consist  with  his 
office  and  place :  but  the  messenger  not  returning  soon 
enough,  (the  summons  being  for  Saturday,  and  the  ap- 
pearance the  Wednesday  morning  after,)  the  mayor 
gave  another  letter  to  the  deputy-lieutenants  to  the 
same  purpose,  and  they  presently  sent  a  party  of  horse 
for  him,  who  carried  him  to  Exon  ;  where  appearing 
before  the  said  deputy-lieutenants,  they  told  him  he  had 
acted  unwarrantably  in  the  case  of  Mr.  Howe,  and 
committed  him  to  the  Marshalsea,  where  he  paid  three 
pounds  for  fees,  and  afterwards  was  bound  over  to  ap- 
pear at  the  next  assizes ;  and  when  they  came,  this  af- 
fair of  Mr.  Howe  was  heard  at  large  before  the  judge, 
and  the  notes  that  were  taken  in  short-hand  by  a  hearer 
were  read  before  him;  and  having  heard  them  out,  he 
said  the  charge  was  wholly  bottomed  upon  a  mistake, 
and  cleared  him.  One  of  the  accusers  soon  left  the  town, 
and  was  seen  there  no  more;  and  the  other  cut  his  own 
throat,  and  was  buried  at  a  crossroad. 

It  is  observable  that  there  were  many  things  of  this 
kind  at  that  time  in  several  parts  of  England,  which  seem 
to  have  been  managed  in  concert,  on  purpose  to  make 
way  for  the  celebrated  Act  of  Uniformity ;  as  in  the  case 
of  Mr.  Andrew  Parsons,  of  Wem,  in  Shropshire,--  Mr. 
John  Sacheverel,  of  Wincaunton,  in  Somersetshire, = 
and  divers  others. 

When  things  were  thought  sufficiently  prepared  for  it, 
at  length,  in  1663,  the  Act  of  Uniformity  passed  the 
two  houses  of  parliament,  though,  as  it  was  observed, 
(and  it  ought  not  to  this  da^^  to  be  forgotten,)  with  a 
very  small  majority  in  the  House  of  Commons ;  and  it 
took  place  on  August  24th,  this  year.  Mr.  Howe  on  that 
day  preached  two  very  affecting  sermons  to  his  people 
at  Torringtoii,  and  his  auditory  were  all  in  tears.  He 
consulted  his  conscience,  and  could  not  be  satisfied  with 
the  terms  of  conformity  fixed  by  the  law,  some  account 
of  which  he  gave  in  his  farewell  sermons.  He  here- 
upon quitted  his  public  station  in  the  church,  and  be- 
came a  silenced  nonconformist  :  though  how  that 
church  from  which  he  was  excluded,  can  be  that  truly 
primitive  and  apostolic  church  that  it  is  represented, 
and  yet  exclude  one  of  his  latitude,   remains  to  many 

t  Soe  CoafoimiBtB  Fourth  Plea  for  the  NonconformiBts,  p.  30,  &c. 


to  this  day  a  mystery.     I  shall  not  easily  forget  what 
he   himself   has   told   me,   viz.   that  the    first  time   he 
accidentally  fell  into  the  company  of  his  much  valued 
friend  Dr.   Wilkins,  after  the  affecting  change    which 
that  act  produced,  (under  the  sad  effects  whereof  many 
worthy  persons  are  still  groaning,)  the   Doctor  in   his 
usual  way  entering  into  a  free   and  pleasant  conversa- 
tion with  him,  told  him  that  that  act  had  had  such  con- 
sequences £is  a  little  surprised   him.     Some,  he  said,  that 
he  should  have  thought  much   too  stiff  and  rigid  ever 
to  have  fallen  in  with  the  establishment,  had  complied 
and  conformed,  while  others  that  he  thought  had  a  suf- 
ficient latitude  to  have  conformed,  had  stood  out  and 
continued   nonconformists :    and    he    intimated   to   Mr. 
Howe  that  he  took  him  for  one  of  the  latter  sort,  and 
should  therefore  be  glad  to  know   the  reasons   of  his 
conduct.     Mr.  Howe  very  frankly  told  him,  that  he  had 
weighed  that  matter  with   all  the  impartiality  he  was 
able,  and  had  not  so  slender  a  concern  for  his  own  use- 
fulness and  comfort,  as  not  to  have  been  willing  and 
desirous  to  have  been  under   the   establishment,  could 
he  but  have  compassed  it  with  satisfaction  to  his.  con- 
science :  but  that  the  giving  him  a  particular  account 
of  the    workings    of  his    mind    upon    that    occasion, 
(which   he  was  free  to  do  without  any  reserve,  when  a 
convenient  opportunity  offered,)  would    take  up    much 
more  time  than   they  then  had  to  spend  together ;  and 
that  so  many    things  were   necessarily  to  be   touched 
upon  in  a  discourse  on  that  subject,  that  it  was  not  pos- 
sible for  it  to  be   crowded    into  a  transient  conversa- 
tion, and  therefore  he  should  reserve   it  to  a  season, 
when  having  more  time,  he  might  have  more  scope  for 
enlarging :  but  one  thing,  he  added,  he  could  tell  him 
with  assurance,  which  was  this,  that  that  lalicude  of  his, 
which  he  was  pleased  to  take  notice  of,  was  so  far  from 
inducing  him  to  conformity,  that  it  was  the  very  thing 
that  made  and  kept  him  a  nonconformist.     The  Doctor 
asked  him  whether  it  was  the  discipline  of  the  church, 
that  was  the  thing  from  whence  he  drew  his  chief  ob- 
jection 1     To  which  Mr.  Howe  replied,  that  he  could  not 
by  any  means  be  fond  of  a  church,  that  in  reality  had 
no  discipline  at  all,  and  that   he  thought   that  a  very 
considerable  objection  against  the  establishment.     The 
Doctor  told   him,   that   though   he   was    sensible    there 
might  not  then  be  room  for  coming  to  a  variety  of  par- 
ticulars, yet  he  should  be  glad  of  a  general  hint  from 
him,  about  what  was  his  great  hinderance  in  the  case, 
leaving     the     enlargement    to    a    further    opportunity, 
which    he    should    readily  embrace.     Mr.  Howe    then 
went  on,  and  intimated  to  him,  that  he  took  the  public 
exercise   of   his   ministry   to  be    like   a    habitation   or 
dwelling ;  and  that  when  he  was  put  upon  consulting 
about  a  dwelling,  he  could  not  tell   how  to  reconcile  it 
with  common  prudence,  to  enter  into  a  habitation  that 
he  was  apprehensive  had  so  weak  a  foundation,  as  that 
it  was  not  likely  to  stand  very  long.     I  could  not,  says  he, 
by  any  means  be  for  going  into  a  falling  house,  for  fear 
of  its  falling  about  my  ears.     Of  this  nature  (said  he) 
I  take  the  present  constitution  to  be,  compared  with  that 

s  See  Abridgment,  \i)l.  ii.  p.  587— «, 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE, 


flonrishins:  state  of  real  vital  religion  Mhicli  I  think  I 
have  suflicient  warrant  liom  the  word  of  God  to  expect 
and  look  for.  To  which  the  Doctor  made  this  reply  :  I 
understand  you  well,  and  if  that  be  your  sense,  take  this 
advice  from  a  friend ;  don't  think  to  gain  any  thing  by 
sneaking  or  crouching,  but  bear  up  against  us  boldly  and 
bravely  ;  stand  to  your  principle,  and  sooner  or  later  you 
may  hope  to  carry  your  point. 

This  Dr.  Wilkins  wa^  ever  a  great  enemy  to  rigour 
and  severity.  When  he  was  made  a  bishop  by  king 
Charles  11.  (which  was  not  compassed  without  con- 
siderable difficulty,)  I  have  been  credibly  informed  he 
waited  on  the  famous  Dr.  Cosins,  Bishop  of  Durham, 
among  other  spiritual  lords,  and  desired  his  company 
at  his  consecration  dinner.  Upon  this  occasion  Bishop 
Cosins  entered  into  a  free  discourse  with  him,  about  mo- 
deration on  the  one  hand,  and  a  vigorous  supporting 
the  ecclesiastical  constitution  on  the  other.  Bishop 
Wilkins  frankly  told  his  lordship,  that  for  his  part,  it 
■was  his  apprehension,  that  he  who  was  by  many  (with 
ill  nature  enough)  reflected  on  for  his  moderation,  was 
in  reality  a  better  friend  to  the  church  than  his  lord- 
ship, who  was  for  rigorously  supporting  the  constitu- 
tion. Bishop  Cosins  seeming  sui-prised.  Bishop  Wil- 
kins added  this  as  the  reason  of  his  assertion :  For  while 
you,  my  lord,  said  he,  are  for  setting  the  top  on  the 
piqued  end,  downwards,  you  won't  be  able  to  keep  it 
up  any  longer  than  you  continue  whipping  and  scourg- 
ing; whereas  I,  says  he,  am  for  setting  the  broad  end 
downward,  and  so  it  will  stand  of  itself.  'Tis  a  pity  this 
good  bishop  died  so  soon  as  1672,  and  did  not  live  till  the 
revolution  in  1688. 

What  I  have  just  been  mentioning,  of  Mr.  Howe's 
intimating  to  Dr.  Wilkins,  that  he  thought  he  had  a 
scriptural  warrant  to  expect  and  look  for  a  more  flourish- 
ing state  of  real  vital  religion  than  we  were  yet  arrived 
at,  very  naturally  reminds  me  of  a  passage  I  have 
heard  of  in  conversation,  at  .some  other  time,  between 
him  and  another  great  friend  of  his,  viz.  Dr.  Henry 
More.  That  Doctor  when  he  came  to  town,  usually 
paid  a  visit  to  Mr.  Howe,  to  whom  he  was  always 
welcome.  Calling  once  at  his  house,  soon  after  his 
coming  into  the  city,  and  not  finding  him  at  home,  he 
left  word  he  would  come  and  dine  with  him  the  next 
day,  which  was  Tuesday.  Mr.  Howe  became  that  day 
an  auditor  at  the  lecture  at  St.  Laurence's,  hoping  there 
to  meet  with  his  friend  Dr.  More,  and  bring  him  home 
along  with  him.  It  .so  fell  out  that  Dr.  More  being  at 
that  lecture,  sat  in  the  same  seat  with  Dr.  Sharp,  who 
was  afterwards  Archbishop  of  York,  who  when  sermon 
was  over,  asked  him  where  he  intended  that  day  40 
dine.  He  told  him  he  had  promised  to  dine  that  day 
with  Mr.  Howe,  whom  he  saw  there  present  in  another 
■Dew.  Dr.  Sharp  invited  himself  to  dine  with  him  too ; 
and  the  company  of  two  such  persons  was  highly 
pieasing  to  Mr.  Howe,  who  was  in  his  element  when 
in  the  company  of  men  of  letters.  After  dinner,  among 
other    things   tliat  were    freely  discoursed  of,    they  at 

t  Spo  T)r.  Moif's  Prophet icul  Exhibition  of  the  Bcveii  Epistles,  sent  to  the 
Bcvcn  ChurcJics,  cliap.  7. 


length  came  to  talk  of  the  Revelation  of  St.  John, 
wliich  was  one  of  the  Doctor's  most  common  and 
favourite  subjects.  The  Doctor,  who  was  very  fond  of 
the  notion,  that  the  epistles  to  the  seven  Asian  churches, 
which  we  meet  with  in  that  book,  were  prophetical, 
said,  and  repeated  it  over  and  over  again,  that  he 
thought  he  had  very  good  evidence  to  prove  that  we 
Avere  now  in  the  Sardian  state ;  with  which  Mr.  Howe 
was  not  displeased,  though  Dr.  Sharp  seemed  not  much 
to  relish  it,  thinking  it  no  gi'eat  compliment  on  the 
present  ecclesiastical  constitution.  Being  informed  of 
this  conversation,  I  took  the  pains  to  turn  to  Dr.  More's 
works,  to  see  what  account  he  gives  of  the  Sardian 
church;  and  I  find  in  him  these  words,  when  he  is 
giving  a  particular  description  of  it :  '  Though  the 
Sardian  church  be  well  rid  of  the  foul  idolatries  and 
gross  trumperies  of  the  papal  church,  yet  her  state  as 
yet  is  but  carnal.  It  is  not  the  dispensation  of  the 
spirit  of  life,  but  the  main  stir  is  about  external  opinion 
and  ceremony.'t  And  he  adds  a  little  after  :  '  As  mis- 
chievous a  mark  as  any  of  her  carnality,  is  her  dissen- 
sion and  schismaticalness,  even  to  mutual  persecution ; 
as  also  the  unnatural  and  unchristian  wars  of  one  part 
of  reformed  Christendom  against  the  other.'  So  that 
Mr.  Howe  was  not  singular  in  his  .sentiments,  in  firmly 
expecting  that  a  much  more  flourishing  state  of  religion 
would  in  time  take  place,  than  that  which  was  brought 
in  by  the  Act  of  Uniformity,  in  which  so  many  were 
for  acquiescing,  without  advancing  so  much  as  a  step 
further,  for  fear  of  I  know  not  what  ill  consequences 
that  might  ensue.  But  as  to  him,  he  had  a  large  soul, 
and  could  not  bear  the  thoughts  of  being  cramped  and 
pinioned.  He  was  for  the  'union  and  communion  of 
all  visible  Christians ;  and  for  making  nothing  necessary 
to  Christian  communion,  but  what  Christ  hath  made 
necessary,  or  what  is  indeed  necessary  to  one's  being  a 
Christian.'  And  he  was  convinced  that  'such  an  imioQ 
must  be  effected,  not  by  mere  htunan  endeavour,  but 
by  an  almighty  Spirit  poured  forth,  which  (says  he) 
after  we  have  suffered  awhile,  shall  Karapriaai,  put  us 
into  joint,  and  make  every  joint  know  its  place  in  the 
body,  (1  Pet.  v.  10.)  shall  conquer  private  interests  and 
inclinations,  and  overawe  men's  hearts,  by  the  authority 
of  the  divine  law,  which  now,  how  express  soever  it 
is,  little  availeth  against  such  prepossessions.  Till 
then  (he  says)  Christianity  will  be  among  us  a  lan- 
guishing, withering  thing.  When  the  season  comes  of 
such  an  effusion  of  the  Spirit  from  on  high,  there  will 
be  no  parties.  And  amidst  the  wilderness  desolation 
that  cannot  but  be  till  that  season  comes,  it  matters 
little,  and  signifies  to  me  (says  he)  scarce  one  straw, 
what  party  of  us  is  uppermost.  The  most  righteous, 
as  they  may  be  vogued,  will  be  but  as  briars  and 
scratching  thorns;  and  it  is  better  to  suffer  by  such, 
than  be  of  them.'"  I  cannot  help  saying,  that  it  could 
never  be  for  the  credit  of  any  church,  to  exclude  one  of 
such  a  make  and  spirit  out  of  its  enclosure. 

However,  being    ejected    and    silenced,    Mr,   Howe 

u  See  Mr.  Howe's  Funeral  Sermon  for  Mr.  Mead,  p.  994,  996. 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


continued    for    some    time    in    the    county    of    Devon, 
preaching  in  private  houses,  among  his  friends  and  ac- 
quaintance,  as  he   had   opportunity.     Having  preached 
at  the  house  of  a  certain  gentleman  in  those  parts,  and 
spent  some  few  days  with  him,  he  at  his   return  home, 
was  told  that  an  officer  belonging  to  the  Bishop's  court 
had  been  to  inquire  after  him,  and  left  word  that  there 
was  a  citation   out,   both   against   him,  and   the  gentle- 
man at  whose  house  he   had  preached.     Hereupon,  he 
the  very  next    morning    took    his   horse,  and    rode  to 
Exeter,  and  lighting  at  the  inn  there  which  he  usually 
called    at,   he    stood  awhile  at    the    gate,    considering 
which  way  he  had  best  to  steer  his  course.     While  he 
stood    musing,    a   certain    dignified    clergyman,     with 
■whom  he  wa^  well   acquainted,  happening  to  pass  by, 
looked  on  him  with  some  surprise,   and  saluted   him 
with  this  question,  Mr.  Howe,  what   do  you   do   here? 
to  whom  he  replied,  with   another  question ;  Pray,  sir, 
what  have    I    done,   that    I   may  not  be  here  1   Upon 
which  he  told  him  that  there  was  a  process  out  against 
him,  and  that  being  so  well   known   as  he   was,  he   did 
not  at  all  question  but  that   if  he  did  not   take   care  of 
himself,   he  would  be   taken  up   in   a  very  little   time. 
Among    other    discourse    that    passed,    he    asked    him 
whether   he  would  not  go  and  wait  upon  the  bishop  1 
Ele  said,  he  thought  not   to  do   it,  unless   his  lordship 
hearing  of  his   being  in  that  city,   should   think  fit   to 
invite  him.     Upon   this,  he  advised   him  to   call   for  a 
room,  and  wait  there  a  little,  and  told  him  he  would  go 
to  the  bishop,  and  let  him  know  that  he  was  there,  and 
return  to  him  again,  and  give   him  an  account,  what 
his  lordship  said  to  it.     He   accordingly  left  him,  and 
soon  returned,  and  brought   him  an  invitation  from  the 
bishop,   who  signified    he   would   be   glad  to   see   him. 
Waiting  on  his  lordship,  he   received  him   with   great 
civility,  as  his  old  acquaintance.     The  bishop  presently 
fell  to  expostulating  with  him  about  his  nonconformity. 
Mr.  Howe  told  his  lordship,   he  could   not   have  time, 
without  greatly    trespassing    upon    his   patience,   to  go 
through  the  several  objections  which   he   had  to   make 
against  the  terms  of  conformity.     The  bishop  pressed 
him  to  name  any  one  that  he  reckoned  to  be  of  weight. 
He  thereupon  instanced  in  the  point  of  re-ordination. 
Why,  pray  sir,  said  the  bishop  to   him,   what  hurt  is 
there  in  being  twice  ordained  1    Hurt,  my   lord,  says 
Mr.  Howe   to  him ;    the  thought  is  shocking ;  it  hurts 
my  understanding ;  it  is  an  absurdity :  for  nothing  can 
have  two  beginnings.     I    am   sure,    said    he,   I  am   a 
minister  of  Christ,  and  am  ready  to  debate  that  matter 
with  your  lordship,   if  you  please;  and   I   can't  begin 
again  to  be  a  minister.     The  bishop  then  dropping  that 
matter,  told  Mr.  Howe,  as  he  had  done  at  other  times, 
that  if  he  would  come  in  amongst  them,  he  might  have 
considerable  preferments,  and   at   length  dismissed   him 
in  a  very  friendly  manner.     And  as   his   lordship  did 
not  take  the  least  notice  to  him  of  the  process  that  was 
issued  out  against  him,  so  neither  did   he  say  any  thing 
of  it  to  his  lordship :  but  taking  his  le-ave,  he  mounted 

w  This  matter  was  strenuously  and  solemnh' argued  upon,  a  great  many 
years  after,  bj-  the  managers  for  tlie  House  of  Commons,  in  tha  trial  of  Dr. 
Henrj-  Jsacneverel. 


his  horse  and   rode   home,  and  heard  no  more  of  that 
matter,  either  with  respect  to  the  gentleman,  or  himself. 

In  1665,  when  the  dissenting  ministers  had  been 
three  years  silenced,  they  were  not  a  little  perplexed 
in  all  parts  of  the  kingdom,  by  the  act  that  passed  in 
the  parliament  at  Oxford,  by  which  they  were  obliged 
(under  the  penalty  of  not  being  allowed,  unless  upon 
the  road,  to  come  within  five  miles  of  any  city,  or  cor- 
poration, or  any  place  that  sent  burgesses  to  parliament, 
or  any  place  where  they  had  been  ministers,  or  had 
preached  after  the  Act  of  Oblivion)  to  swear,  '  that  it 
was  not  lawful,  upon  any  pretence  whatsoever,-'  to  take 
arms  against  the  king,  and  that  they  abhorred  the  traitor- 
ous position,  of  taking  arms  by  his  authority  against  his 
person,  or  against  those  commissionated  by  him,  in 
pursuance  of  such  commission  :  and  that  they  would 
not  at  any  time  endeavour  any  alteration  of  the  govern- 
ment either  in  church  or  state.'  They  were  much 
divided  in  their  sentiments  upon  this  occasion.  There 
were  several  among  them,  who  reckoned  this  oath  so 
insnaring,  that  they  durst  not  take  it:  but  it  was  at 
length  taken  in  London  by  Dr.  Bates,  and  others  to 
the  number  of  twenty.^  It  was  also  taken  in  Devonshire 
by  Mr.  Howe  and  others,  to  the  number  of  twelve  ;  and 
by  some  few  in  Dorsetshire. 

The  twelve  who  took  this  oath  in  Devonshire,  were 
(as  I  am  informed  from  a  manuscript  of  Mr.  Cluick's) 
Mr.  Humphrey  Saunders,  Mr.  John  Howe,  Mr. 
Gunnery,  Mr.  Mortimer,  Mr.  Parre,  Mr.  Francis 
Whiddon,  Mr.  Fairant,  Mr.  Wilkins,  Mr.  Einmore, 
Mr.  Berry,  Mr.  Cleveland,  and  Mr.  Bayly.  The  two 
last  took  it  voluntarily,  before  it  came  in  force.  The 
other  ten  took  it  at  the  county  sessions,  after  the  taking 
place  of  the  act.  At  their  appearance  for  that  purpose, 
one  of  the  company  (I  find  not  who)  made  a  declaration 
in  open  court,  in  these  words  : 

'  I  confess  I  have  had  some  doubts  concerning  this 
oath ;  but  understanding,  partly  by  discourse  about 
it  with  some  who  concurred  in  making  of  the  law, 
and  partly  by  consideration  of  the  law  itself,  and  other 
laws,  that  the  oath  hath  no  other  meaning  or  end,  than 
to  secure  the  person  of  the  king's  majesty,  and  his  autho- 
rity, whether  in  his  person  or  commissioners,  and  the 
government  in  church  and  state,  from  being  shaken  or 
subverted,  by  any  unpeaceable  or  seditious  endeavours 
out  of  our  place  and  calling,  I  am  abundantly  satisfied 
to  tender  myself  to  this  honourable  court,  for  the  taking 
of  it.' 

This  declaration  being  candidly  accepted  by  the 
court,  the  ten  before  mentioned  immediateh'  took  the 
oath.  Only  Mr.  Fairant  and  Mr.  Wilkins  took  it  with 
this  addition,  '  so  far  as  the  laws  of  man  are  agreeable  to 
the  word  of  God.' 

But  as  to  Mr.  Howe,  he  upon  this  occasion  drew  up 
the  following  paper,  which  gives  an  account  of  the 
principles  upon  which  he  took  the  oath  that  was  then 
imposed ;  and  at  the  same  time  states  the  matter  of 
oaths  in  general,  as  judiciously  and  fully,  a.s  can 
X  Soo  Abridgment  of  Mr.  Baxter's  Life,  vol.  i.  p.  313, 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


■well    be    supposed  or  imagined  in    so  narrow  a  com- 
pass. 

'1.  My  swearing  is  my  act.  2.  The  obligation  I 
.lereby  contract  is  x-oluntary.  3.  Swearing  in  a  form 
of  woids  prescribed  by  another,  I  adopt  those  words, 
and  make  them  my  own.  4.  Being  now  so  adopted, 
their  first  use  is  to  express  the  true  sense  of  my  heart, 
touching  the  matter  about  which  I  swear.  5.  Their 
next  use,  as  they  have  now  the  form  of  an  oath,  is  to 
assure  him  or  them  who  duly  require  it  from  me,  that 
what  I  express  by  them  is  the  true  sense  of  my  heart. 
6.  'Tis  repugnant  to  both  those  ends,  that  they  should 
be  construed  (as  now  used  by  me)  to  signify  another 
thing  than  what  I  sincerely  intend  to  make  known  by 
them.  7.  If  the  words  be  of  dubious  signification, 
capable  of  more  senses  than  one,  I  ought  not  to  hide  the 
sense  in  which  I  take  them,  but  declare  it,  lest  I 
deceive  them  whom  I  should  satisfy.  8.  That  declara- 
tion I  ought  to  make,  if  I  have  opportunity,  to  them 
whose  satisfaction  is  primarily  intended  by  the  oath ; 
if  not,  to  them  whom  they  intrust  and  employ.  9.  This 
declared  sense  must  be  such  as  the  words  will  fairly  bear, 
without  force  or  violence.' 

I  have  been  told,  that  in  this  year  1665,  Mr.  Howe 
wa.s  imprisoned  for  two  months  in  the  Isle  of  St.  Nicolas, 
which  was  the  place  where  his  father-in-law  Mr. 
George  Hughes,  and  his  brother  Mr.  Obadiah  Hughes, 
had  been  confined  for  a  longer  time :  but  the  occasion 
of  this  imprisonment,  what  was  alleged  to  justify  it, 
and  how  he  obtained  deliverance,  I  have  not  been  able 
to  discover. 

In  a  letter  he  wrote  to  his  brother-in-law  Mr.  Obadiah 
Hughes,  after  they  were  set  at  liberty,  he  expressed  him- 
self thus : 

'  Blessed  be  God,  that  we  can  have,  and  hear  of, 
each  other's  occasions  of  thanksgiving,  that  we  may 
join  praises  as  well  as  prayers,  which  I  hope  is  done 
daily  for  one  another.  Nearer  approaches,  and  constant 
adherence  to  God,  with  the  improvement  of  our  interest 
in  each  other's  heart,  must  compensate  (and  I  hope  will 
abundantly)  the  unkindness  and  instability  of  a  surly 
treacherous  world,  that  we  see  still  retains  its  wayward 
temper,  and  grows  more  peevish  as  it  grows  older, 
and  more  ingenious  in  in\'enting  ways  to  torment 
whom  it  disaffects.  It  was,  it  seems,  not  enough  to 
kill  by  one  single  death,  but  when  .that  was  almost 
done,  to  give  leave  and  time  to  respire,  to  live  again,  at 
least  in  hope,  that  it  might  have  the  renewed  pleasure 
of  putting  us  to  a  further  pain  and  torture  in  dying 
once  more.  Spite  is  natural  to  her.  All  her  kindness 
is  an  artificial  disguise ;  a  device  to  promote  and  serve 
the  design  of  the  former  with  the  more  efficacious  and 
piercing  malignity.  But  patience  will  elude  the  design, 
and  blunt  its  sharpest  edge.  It  is  perfectly  defeated 
when  nothing  is  expected  from  it  but  mischief;  for  then 
the  worst  it  can  threaten  finds  us  provided,  and  the  best 
it  can  promise  incredulous,  and  not  apt  to  be  imposed 
upon.  This  will  make  it  at  last  despair  and  grow 
hopeless,  when  it  finds  that   the  more  it  goes  about  to 

y  See  Dr.  More'a  Life,  by  Mr.  Rich.  Ward,  p.  21. 


mock  and  vex  us,  the  more  it  teaches  and  instructs  us ; 
and  that  as  it  is  wickeder,  we  are  wiser.  If  we  cannot, 
God  will  outwit  it,  and  carry  us,  I  trust,  safe  through, 
to  a  better  world,  upon  which  we  may  terminate  hopes 
that  will  never  make  us  ashamed,'  &c. 

He  continued  still  in  those  western  counties,  and 
went  much  from  one  gentleman's  house  to  another,  and 
was  ready  wherever  he  came  to  do  any  service  he  was 
able ;  and  at  length,  in  the  year  1668,  he  was  prevailed 
with  to  print  a  book  which  met  with  wonderful  accept- 
ance in  the  world,  and  not  undeservedly,  if  either  the 
subject  be  considered,  or  the  happy  management  of  it. 
I  remember  it  was  a  usual  saying  of  Dr.  Henry  More, 
who  has  been  already  mentioned  once  and  again,  that 
'  if  any  man  had  but  written,  his  works  would  best  show 
to  all  intelligent  readers  what  he  was.'y  Perhaps  this 
is  as  true  of  Mr.  Howe  as  of  most  men  that  ever  appear- 
ed in  print.  For  in  some  of  his  writings  he  has  drawn 
his  own  very  picture,  without  any  disguise  or  artifice. 

The  first  thing  of  his  that  was  published,  was  a  ser- 
mon from  Eccles.  vii.  29.  upon  '  Man's  Creation  in  an 
holy,  but  mutable  State.'  It  is  to  be  met  with  in  the 
'  Morning  Exercise  methodized,'  printed  in  1660.  But 
he  at  this  time  published  a  discourse  entitled,  The 
Blessedness  of  the  Righteous,  from  Psal.  xvii.  15.  being, 
as  I  am  informed,  sermons  preached  while  he  was  at 
Torrington:  and  this  is  a  treatise  that  has  been  well 
received  and  greatly  valued,  by  the  most  serious  and 
judicious  of  all  persuasions. 

There  is  something  in  the  preface  to  this  work,  that 
I  take  to  be  extremely  fine,  and  that  should  not  be 
passed  over  lightly,  according  to  the  usual  way  for  the 
generality  of  common  readers.  He  there  says  of  that 
discourse  of  his, 

'  That  the  design  of  it  is  wholly  practical,  and  it 
hath  little  or  nothing  to  do  with  disputation.  If  (says 
he)  there  be  any  whose  business  it  is  to  promote  a  pri- 
vate divided  interest,  or  who  place  the  sum  of  their  re- 
ligion in  an  inconsiderable  and  doubtful  opinion,  it 
doth  not  unhallow  their  altars,  nor  offer  any  affront  to 
their  idol.  It  intends  no  quarrel  to  any  contending 
angry  party ;  but  deals  upon  things,  in  the  substance 
whereof  Christians  are  at  a  professed  agreement :  and 
hath  therefore  the  greater  probability  of  doing  good  to 
some,  without  the  ofience  of  any.  'Tis  indeed  equally 
matter  of  complaint  and  wonder,  that  men  can  find  so 
much  leisure,  to  avert  from  such  things  wherein  there 
is  so  much  both  of  delight  and  pleasure,  unto  what  one 
would  think  should  have  little  of  temptation  or  allure- 
ment in  it,  contentious  jangling.  It  might  rather  be 
thought,  its  visible  fruits  and  tendencies  should  render 
it  the  most  dreadful  thing  to  every  serious  beholder. 
What  tragedies  hath  it  wrought  in  the  Christian  church ! 
Into  how  weak  and  languishing  a  condition  hath  it 
brought  the  religion  of  professed  Christians !  Hence 
have  risen  the  intemperate  preternatural  heats  and  an- 
gers that  have  spent  its  strength  and  spirits ;  and  make 
it  look  with  so  meagre  and  pale  a  face.  We  have  had 
a  greater  mind    to    dispute    than    live,  and    to  contend 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


about  what  we  know  not,  than  to  practise  the  far  greater 
things  we  know,  and  which  more  directly  tend  to 
nourish  and  maintain  the  divine  life.  The  author  of 
that  ingenious  sentence,  Pruritus  disputandi  scabies 
ecclesias,  whoever  he  were,  hath  fitly  expressed  what 
is  the  noisome  product  of  the  itch  of  disputing.  It 
hath  begot  the  ulcerous  tumours,  which  beside  their 
own  offensive  soreness,  drain  the  body,  and  turn  what 
should  nourish  that  into  nutriment  to  themselves.  And 
its  effects  are  not  more  grievous,  than  the  pleasures 
which  it  affects  and  pursues  are  uncouth  and  unnatural. 
The  rough  touch  of  an  ingentle  hand ;  that  only 
pleases  which  exasperates ;  (as  Seneca  the  moralist 
aptly  expresses  some  like  disaffection  of  diseased 
minds ; )  toil  and  vexation  is  their  only  delight ;  and 
what  to  a  sound  spirit  would  be  a  pain,  is  to  these  a 
pleasure. 

'  Which  is  indeed  the  triumph  of  the  disease,  that  it 
adds  unto  torment,  reproach  and  mockery,  and  imposes 
upon  men  by  so  ridiculous  a  delusion,  (while  they  are 
made  to  take  pleasure  m  punishing  themselves,)  that 
even  the  most  sober  can  scarcely  look  on  in  a  fitter  pos- 
ture than  with  a  compassionate  smile.  All  which  were 
yet  somewhat  more  tolerable,  if  that  imagined  vanish- 
ing pleasure  were  not  the  whole  of  their  gain  ;  or  if  it 
were  to  be  hoped  that  so  great  a  present  real  pain  and 
smart,  should  be  recompensed  with  as  real  a  consequent 
fruit  and  advantage.  But  we  know  that  generally,  by 
how  much  any  thing  is  more  disputable,  the  less  it  is 
necessary  or  conducible  to  the  Christian  life.  God 
hath  graciously  provided,  that  what  we  are  to  live  by, 
should  not  cost  us  so  dear.  And  possibly  as  there  is 
the  less  occasion  of  disputing  about  the  more  mo- 
mentous things  of  religion,  so  there  may  be  somewhat 
more  of  modesty  and  awe,  in  reference  to  what  is  so 
confessedly  venerable  and  sacred,  (though  too  many 
are  over-bold  even  here  also,)  than  so  foolishly  trifle 
with  such  things.  Therefore  more  commonly,  where 
that  humour  prevails,  men  divert  from  those  plainer 
things,  with  some  slighter  and  more  superficial  rever- 
ence to  them,  but  more  heartily  esteeming  them  in- 
sipid and  jejune,  because  they  have  less  in  them  to 
gratify  their  appetite,  and  betake  themselves  to  such 
things  about  which  they  may  more  plausibly  contend. 
And  then  what  pitiful  trifles  often  take  up  their  time 
and  thoughts  !  questions  and  problems  of  like  weighty 
importance  (very  often)  with  those  which  Seneca  tells 
us  this  disease  among  the  Greeks  prompted  them  to 
trouble  themselves  about !  as,  what  number  of  rowers 
Ulysses  had  1  which  was  written  first,  the  Iliad  or  the 
Odysses?  so  that  (as  he  saith)  they  spend  their  lives 
very  operosely  doing  nothing :  their  conceits  being 
such,  that  if  they  kept  them  to  themselves  they  could 
yield  them  no  fruit,  and  if  they  published  them  to 
others,  they  should  not  seem  thereby  the  more  learned, 
but  the  more  troublesome.  And  is  it  not  (says  he)  to 
be  resented,  that  men  should  sell  away  the  solid 
strength  and  vital  joy,  which  a  serious  soul  would  find 
in  substantial  religion,  for  such  toys  1  yea,  and  not 
only  famish  themselves,  but    trouble    the    world,    and 


embroil  the  church  with  impertinencies  1  If  a  man 
be  drawn  forth,  to  defend  an  important  truth  against 
an  injurious  zissault,  it  were  treacherous  self-love  to 
purchase  his  own  peace  by  declining  it.  Or  if  be  did 
sometimes  turn  his  thoughts  to  some  of  our  petite 
questions,  that  with  many  are  so  hotly  agitated,  for  re- 
creation sake,  or  to  try  his  wit,  and  exercise  his  reason 
without  stirring  his  passions,  to  the  disturbance  of 
others  or  himself;  here  an  iimocent  divertisement  is 
the  best  purpose  that  things  of  that  nature  are  capable 
of  serving.  But  when  contention  becomes  a  man's 
element,  and  he  cannot  live  out  of  that  fire  ;  strains  his 
wit,  and  racks  his  invention  to  find  matter  of  quarrel ; 
is  resolved  nothing  said  or  done  by  others  shall  please 
him,  only  because  he  means  to  please  himself  in  dis- 
senting ;  disputes  only  that  he  may  dispute,  and  loves 
dissension  for  itself ;  this  is  the  unnatural  humour  that 
hath  so  unspeakably  troubled  the  church,  and  debased 
religion,  and  filled  men's  souls  with  wind  and  vanity, 
yea  with  fire  and  fury.  This  hath  made  Christians 
gladiators,  and  the  Christian  world  a  clamorous  theatre, 
while  men  have  equally  affected  to  contend,  and  to 
make  ostentation  of  their  ability  to  do  so,'  &c. 

Some  time  after  this,  he  was  earnestly  invited  by  a 
person  of  considerable  quality  into  Ireland,  and  had 
generous  offers  made  him.  He  accepted  the  motion 
with  the  greater  readiness,  and  looked  upon  it  as  the 
more  providential,  because  by  this  time  he  was  reduced 
to  straits,  and  his  circumstances  were  but  low ;  which 
is  not  at  all  to  be  wondered  at,  considering  that  he  had 
for  some  years  been  out  of  any  settled  emplo}Tnent,  and 
had  but  a  small  income,  several  in  family,  and  a  ge- 
nerous spirit  of  his  own,  which  inclined  him  upon  all 
occasions  to  make  the  best  figure  he  was  able.  He  set 
sail  for  Dublin  (as  I  am  informed)  in  the  beginning  of 
April,  1671.  And  here  I  have  a  memorable  passage  to 
relate,  which  I  have  from  such  hands,  that  I  cannot 
question  the  truth  of  it.  When  he  went  for  Ireland, 
taking  his  eldest  son  along  with  him,  he  was  for  em- 
barking at  a  town  in  Wales,  the  name  of  which  my  in- 
formant has  forgotten,  but  I  suppose  it  was  Holy-head. 
The  wind  not  ser^'ing  to  carry  them  off,  they  con- 
tinued there  a  Lord's  day,  and  found  a  large  parish 
church,  in  which  prayers  only  were  to  be  read  as 
usually,  but  no  preaching  was  expected.  The  com- 
pany that  was  with  Mr.  Howe  and  waited  for  a  wind, 
were  pretty  numerous,  and  they  were  desirous  to  find 
out  some  private  place  by  the  sea-side,  where  he  might 
preach  to  them.  As  they  were  walking  along  the  sands 
in  search  of  some  such  place,  they  met  two  men  on 
horseback  riding  towards  the  town,  who  proved  to  be 
the  parson  of  the  parish  and  his  clerk.  The  clerk  was 
asked  by  one  in  the  company  whether  his  master 
preached  that  day"?  No,  said  he,  my  master  does  not 
use  to  preach,  he  only  reads  prayers.  Upon  which  it 
was  farther  inquired  whether  he  thought  his  master 
would  be  willing  to  give  leave  to  a  minister  that  was 
in  their  company,  who  was  going  for  Ireland,  but  wait- 
ing for  a  wind,  to  make  use  of  his  pnlpit  that  day  in 
his   room  1    He   answered   he  believed   very  willingly. 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


and  they  found  it  so,  when  the  clerk  had  once  made  the 
rnotion  to  him.  Hereupon  Mr.  Howe  and  the  rest  of 
them  returned  back  to  the  town,  and  he  preached  that 
day  twice  to  them  in  the  church ;  and  in  the  afternoon 
the  auditory  was  very  large,  and  seemed  to  be  not  a 
little  aflected  with  what  was  delivered.  The  wind  not 
serving  all  the  week  following,  the  country  all  round 
those  parts  took  notice  that  neither  the  vessel  nor  the 
minister  were  gone ;  and  therefore  on  the  Lord's  day 
after,  they  came  flocking  into  the  town,  expecting  he 
would  preach  that  day  also.  There  was  a  prodigious 
multitude  gathered  together ;  and  the  parson,  who  had 
had  no  thoughts  about  the  matter,  nor  made  the  least 
motion  for  any  further  assistance  from  the  stranger, 
observing  it,  was  in  no  small  consternation.  Preach 
himself  he  could  not ;  for  he  had  not  of  a  long  time 
been  used  to  it,  and  he  was  altogether  unprovided  ;  and 
if  he  did  not  employ  the  stranger,  it  would  lessen  his 
reputation  greatly :  but  then  he  did  not  know,  whether 
as  things  stood,  he  could  be  able  to  prevail  with  him. 
However  he  sent  his  clerk  to  Mr.  Howe,  and  begged 
he  would  come  and  preach  again,  for  that  otherwise 
he  knew  not  what  to  do,  the  coimlry  being  come  in 
from  several  miles  round,  in  hope  of  hearing  him. 
Mr.  Howe  having  been  much  indisposed,  was  in  bed, 
and  in  a  great  sweat,  when  he  received  the  message, 
and  that  made  him  at  first  doubtful  whether  he  had  best 
venture  to  comply.  But  considering  with  himself  that 
here  was  a  plain  call  of  Providence,  and  not  knowing 
but  much  good  might  be  done  in  such  a  place,  where 
preaching  was  so  uncommon  a  thing,  and  the  people 
seemed  so  desirous  of  the  word  of  God,  he  sent  word 
he  would  do  it ;  and  cooled  himself  with  as  much  speed 
as  he  was  able  with  safety,  and  cast  himself  upon  God, 
and  went  and  preached  with  great  life  and  freedom: 
and  he  told  my  informant,  that  he  never  in  all  his  life 
saw  people  more  moved,  or  receive  the  word  with 
greater  pleasure.  And  he  at  the  same  time  added  these 
words,  '  if  my  ministry  was  ever  of  any  use,  I  think  it 
must  be  then.'  Very  soon  after,  the  vessel  went  off, 
and  he  found  no  ill  effects  or  conseqxrences  at  all,  of 
the  pains  he  took  in  such  circumstances. 

At  length  he  had  his  whole  family  with  him  in  Ire- 
land, where  he  lived  as  chaplain  to  the  Lord  Massarene 
in  the  parish  of  Antrim,  and  was  received  and  treated 
with  all  imaginable  respect.  His  great  learning  and 
Christian  temper,  (together  with  that  lord's  interest  and 
influence,)  procured  him  the  particular  friendship  of  the 
bishop  of  that  diocese,  who,  (together  with  his  metro- 
politan,) without  demanding  any  conformit}',  gave  him 
fiee  liberty  to  preach  in  the  public  church  in  that  town, 
every  Lord's  day  in  the  afternoon :  and  I  have  been 
informed  that  the  archbishop  in  a  pretty  full  meeting 
of  the  clergy,  told  them  frankly,  that  he  would  have 
Mr.  Howe  have  every  pulpit  (where  he  had  any  con- 
cern) open  to  him,  in  which  he  at  any  time  was  free  to 
preach.  And  he  manifested  his  truly  peaceable  and 
Christian  spirit,  both  in.  his  preaching  and  conversation, 
and  was  useful  to  many. 

In  the  very  year  in  which  he  settled  here,  he  pub- 


lished a  noble  discourse  upon  '  The  "Vanity  of  this  mortal 
Life,  or  of  Man  considered  only  in  this  present  mortal 
State,'  from  Psal.  Ixxxi.  47,  48.  which  discourse  is 
usually  bound  up  with  his  'Blessedness  of  the  Right- 
eous.' There  is  an  epistle  before  this  sermon  dated  from 
Antrim  in  1671,  to  John  Upton,  of  Lupton  in  Devon,  Esq. 
his  kinsman,  signifying  that  it  was  composed  upon 
occasion  of  the  death  of  Anthony  Upton,  son  of  the 
said  John,  who  had  lived  between  twenty  and  thirty 
}'^ears  in  Spain,  and  had  promised  to  return  home ;  and 
being  earnestly  expected,  a  sudden  disease  in  so  few 
days  landed  him  in  another  world,  that  the  first  notice 
his  friends  had  of  his  death  or  sickness,  was  by  the 
arrival  of  that  vessel  (clad  in  mourning  attire)  which 
brought  over  the  deserted  body  to  its  native  place  of 
Lupton ;  which  providence  was  therefore  the  more 
affecting,  because  a  meeting  of  the  several  branches  of 
the  family,  who  lived  at  distant  places,  having  been 
appointed,  the  place  and  occasion  and  design  of  it  was 
this  way  altered  ;  and  no  less  than  twenty,  the  brothers 
and  sisters  of  the  deceased,  or  their  consorts,  besides 
many  nephews  and  nieces,  and  other  relations,  were 
brought  together  to  the  mournful  solemnity  of  the  in- 
terment. It  has  been  the  judgment  of  many,  that  this 
discourse  is  as  noble  a  piece  of  true  theological  oratory, 
as  can  be  easily  met  with. 

In  1674  he  published  his  treatise  of  'Delighting  m 
God,'  which  was  the  substance  of  some  sermons  he  had 
preached  twenty  years  before  to  the  people  of  Torring- 
ton,  with  some  additions  and  enlargements.  He  de- 
dicated them  to  his  old  friends,  the  inhabitants  of  that 
town,  by  a  masculine,  but  at  the  same  time  most  tender 
and  affectionate,  epistle  to  them  from  Antrim,  in  which 
he  gives  such  an  account  of  himself,  as  may  very  well 
heighten  our  idea  of  him.  Speaking  of  the  sermons 
which  he  then  published,  he  expresses  himself  in  this 
glorious  manner. 

'  They  aim  (says  he)  at  the  promoting  of  the  same 
end,  which  the  course  of  my  poor  labours  among  you 
did,  (as  he  that  knoweth  all  things  knoweth,)  the  se- 
rious practice  of  the  great  things  of  religion,  which  are 
known,  and  least  liable  to  question ;  without  designing 
to  engage  you  to  or  against  any  party  of  them  that 
differ  about  circumstantial  matters.  They  tend  to  let 
you  see,  that  formality  in  any  way  of  religion,  unac- 
companied with  life,  will  not  serve  your  turn,  (as  it 
will  no  man's,)  than  which  there  is  nothing  more 
empty,  sapless,  and  void  both  of  profit  and  delight.  I 
have  reflected  and  considered  with  some  satisfaction, 
that  this  hath  been  my  way,  and  the  temper  of  my  mind 
among  you.  Great  reason  I  have  to  repent,  that  I 
have  not  with  greater  earnestness  pressed  upon  you 
the  known  and  important  things  wherein  serious 
Christians  do  generally  agree :  but  I  repent  not  I 
have  been  so  little  engaged  in  the  hot  contests  of 
our  age,  about  the  things  wherein  they  differ.  For 
as  I  pretend  to  little  light  in  these  things,  (whence 
I  could  not  have  much  confidence  to  fortify  me  to  such 
an  imdertaking,)  so  I  must  profess  to  have  little  inclina- 
tion to  contend  about    matters  of  that  kind.    Nor  yet 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


xm 


am  I  indifferent  as  to  these  smaller  things,  that  I  can- 
not discern  to  be  in  their  own  nature  so.  But  though  I 
cannot  avoid  to  think  that  course  right  which  I  have 
deliberately  chosen  therein,  I  do  yet  esteem  that  but  a 
small  thing  upon  which  to  ground  an  opinion  of  my 
exceeding  them  that  think  otherwise,  eis  if  I  knew  more 
than  they.  For  I  have  often  recounted  thus  seriously 
with  myself,  that  of  every  differing  party  (in  those  cir- 
cumstantial matters)  I  do  particularly  know  some  per- 
sons by  whom  I  find  myself  much  excelled,  in  much 
greater  things  than  is  the  matter  of  that  difference.  I 
cannot  ('tis  true)  thereupon  say  and  think  every  thing 
that  they  do ;  which  is  impossible,  since  they  differ 
from  one  another  as  well  as  me ;  and  I  understand  well 
there  are  other  measures  of  truth,  than  this  or  that  ex- 
cellent person's  opinion:  but  I  thereupon  reckon  I 
have  little  reason  to  be  conceited  of  any  advantage  I 
have  of  such  in  point  of  knowledge ;  (even  as  little  as 
he  would  have,  that  can  sing  or  play  well  on  a  lute,  of 
him  that  knows  how  to  command  armies  or  govern  a 
kingdom ;)  and  can  with  the  less  confidence  differ  from 
them,  or  contend  with  them.  Being  thereby,  though  I 
cannot  find  that  I  err  in  these  matters,  constrained  to 
have  some  suspicion  lest  I  do ;  and  to  admit  it  possible 
enough,  that  some  of  them  who  differ  from  me,  having 
much  more  light  in  greater  matters,  may  have  so  in 
these  also.  Besides  that  I  most  seriously  think,  hu- 
milit}',  charity,  and  patience  would  more  contribute  to 
the  composing  of  these  lesser  differences,  or  to  the  good 
estate  of  the  Christian  interest  under  them,  than  the 
most  fervent  disputes  and  contestations.  I  have  upon 
such  considerations  little  concerned  myself  in  contend- 
ing for  one  way  or  another,  while  I  was  among  you; 
or  in  censuring  such  as  have  differed  from  me,  in  such 
notions  and  practices  as  might  consist  with  our  com- 
mon great  end;  or  as  imported  not  manifest  hostility 
thereto:  contenting  myself  to  follow  the  course  that  to 
ray  preponderating  judgment  seemed  best,  without 
stepping  out  of  my  way  to  jostle  others.  But  I  cannot 
be  so  patient  of  their  practical  disagreement  (not  only 
with  all  serious  Christians,  but  even  their  own  judg- 
meiits  and  consciences  also)  who  have  no  delight  in 
God,  and  who  take  no  pleasure  in  the  very  substance 
of  religion,'  &c.  We  may  from  hence  take  our  mea- 
sures of  him  both  as  a  minister  and  a  divine;  and  can 
hardly  forbear  making  this  reflection,  that  it  would  be 
an  unspeakable  happiness,  did  but  such  a  spirit  as  this 
prevail  more  among  all  the  parties  into  which  we  are 
divided. 

In  1675,  upon  the  death  of  Dr.  Lazanis  Seaman,  he 
had  an  invitation  gi^sn  him  to  comi  and  fix  in  London, 
by  a  part  of  his  congregation,  and  was  earnestly  press- 
ed to  accept  of  their  call.  There  was  some  difference 
among  them  about  tbe  person  in  whom  they  should 
centre.  Some  were  for  Mr.  Charnock,  and  others  for 
Mr.  Howe:  and  though  they  that  wrote  to  him  urged 
a  variety  of  arguments  and  inducements,  yet  he  could 
not  so  well  judge  of  the  mattcvs  alleged  at  a  distance; 
and  was  thereupon  prevailed  w/h  to  take  a  voyage  in- 
to England,  and  make  a  visit  at  l  ondon,  that  he  might 


view  and  judge  of  things  upon  the  spot.  He  upon  this 
occasion,  which  created  him  a  great  many  thoughts, 
and  in  which  he  looked  seriously  upwards  for  conduct, 
committed  some  hints  to  writing,  which  have  been  pre- 
served, and  are  here  faithfully  transcribed  from  an  au- 
thentic copy. 

The  paper  is  inscribed  after  this  manner. 

Considerations  avd  Communings  v:ith  myself  concervr- 
ing  my  present  Journey,  Dec.  20,  75.  By  Nighl  on 
my  Bed. 

'  L  Cluaere ;   Have  I  not  an  undue  design  or  self-n- 
sped  in  it? 

'  1 .  I  know  well  I  ought  not  to  have  any  design  for 
myself,  which  admits  not  of  subordination  to  the  in- 
terest and  honour  of  the  great  God,  and  my  Redeemer, 
and  which  is  not  acmally  so  subordinated. 

'2.  I  understand  the  fearful  evil  and  sinfulness  of 
having  such  an  undue  design ;  that  it  is  idolatry,  the 
taking  another  god,  and  making  myself  that  god. 

'3.  I  find  (through  God's  mercy)  some  sensible  stir- 
rings of  hatred  and  detestation,  in  my  breast,  of  that 
wickedness,  and  a  great  apprehension  of  the  loveliness 
and  beauty  of  a  state  of  pure  entire  devotedness  to 
God  in  Christ,  and  of  acting  accordingly. 

'4.  I  have  insisted  on  this  chiefly  in  prayer  to  God, 
in  reference  to  this  business,  ever  since  it  was  set  on 
foot,  that  I  might  be  sincere  in  it:  and  though  I  have 
earnestly  begged  light  to  guide  me  therein,  so  as  that 
I  might  do  that  herein  which  in  the  substance  of  the 
thing  is  agreeable  to  the  holy  will  of  God,  yet  I  have 
much  more  importimately  prayed  that  I  might  be  sin- 
cere in  what  I  do,  not  only  because  I  know  God  will 
pardon  ignorance  (unremedied  by  utmost  endeavours) 
where  he  beholds  sincerity,  whereas  he  will  never  ac- 
cept the  knowledge  of  our  duty,  nor  the  doing  what  is 
in  substance  our  duty,  if  that  right  manner  of  doing  it, 
or  principle  whence  it  is  done,  be  wanting;  but,  also, 
from  the  higher  esteem  I  have  of  sincerity,  above  all 
light  and  knowledge  without  it,  and  the  greater  excel- 
lence of  the  thing  itself. 

'  5.  I  have  carefully  examined  what  selfish  respects 
I  can  have  in  this  matter.  Is  it  worldly  emolument"? 
In  this  my  heart  acquits  me  in  the  sight  of  God.  Is 
it  that  I  affect  to  be  upon  a  public  stage,  to  be  popular 
and  applauded  by  men?  To  this  I  say,  (L)  That  Mo 
verily  believe,  that  I  shall  be  lower  in  the  eye  and 
esteem  of  the  people  in  London,  when  I  come  under 
their  nearer  view.  I  know  myself  incapable  of  pleasing 
their  genius.  I  cannot  contrive  nor  endure  to  preach 
with  elaborate  artifice.  They  will  soon  be  wear}', 
when  they  hear  nothing  but  plain  discourses  of  such 
matters  as  are  not  new  to  them.  Yea,  and  ministers 
that  noAV  judge  of  me  by  what  I  have  written,  (when 
matter  and  words  were  in  some  measure  weighed,)  will 
find  mc,  when  1  converse  with  them,  slow  to  apprehend 
things,  slow  to  express  my  own  apprehensions,  unready, 
entangled,  and  obscure  in  my  apprehensions  and  ex- 
press' ms :  so  that  all  will  soon  say,  this  is  not  the  man 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


we  took  him  for.  (2.)  It  displeases  me  not,  that  they 
should  find  and  say  this.  I  hope  I  should  digest  it 
well.  (3.)  I  have  found  (blessed  be  God)  that  the 
applauses  some  have  prudently  given  me  in  letters, 
(as  I  have  received  many  of  that  strain,  very  many 
Ion"  before  this  business,  and  that  had  no  relation  unto 
any  such,  that  no  eye  hath  ever  since  seen  but  my  own,) 
an  occasion  and  means  to  me  of  deep  humiliation,  when 
my  own  heart  hath  witnessed  to  me,  my  miserable 
penury,  and  that  I  am  thought  to  be  what  I  am  not. 
(4.)  So  far  as  I  can  find,  I  do  not  deliberately  covet  or 
desire  esteem  but  for  my  work's  sake,  and  the  success 
of  my  work.  Of  applause  I  have  often  found  an  inward 
abhorrence.  I  both  know  I  have  nothing  but  what  I 
have  received,  and  that  I  have  received  a  great  deal 
less  than  many  think  I  have:  which  I  say  with  re- 
flection on  myself;  not  to  diminish  the  bounty  of  the 
Free-giver,  from  whom  I  know  I  might  have  received 
much  more,  if  I  had  sought  and  used  his  gifts  aright. 
All  the  design  I  can  more  vehemently  suspect  myself 
of  that  looks  like  self-interest  anyway,  is,  (1.)  The  im- 
provement of  my  own  knowledge,  which  I  know  there 
may  be  great  opportunities  for,  if  this  journey  should 
issue  in  my  settlement  at  London.  (2.)  The  disposal 
of  my  children.  Yet  I  hope  these  things  are  eyed  in 
subordination,  and  indifferently,  so  as  not  to  sway  with 
me  against  my  duty. 

'  n.  Cluaere ;  Have  I  not  a  previous  resolution  of  settling 
at  London  before  I  go  up? 

'1.  I  have  a  resolution  to  do  what  I  shall  conceive 
shall  make  most  to  the  usefulness  of  the  rest  of  my  life, 
which  resolution  I  ought  never  to  be  without. 

'2.  I  am  seriously  yet  at  a  loss  as  to  judging  this 
case,  whether  in  this  country  or  there. 

'3.  If  I  can  find  clearly  it  is  my  duty  to  return  in 
order  to  continuance  at  Antrim,  I  shall  do  it  with  high 
complacency. 

III.  Gluosre ;    Am  I  not  afraid  of  miscarrying  in  this 
undertaken  voyage,  by  shipwreck,  tJ'C.  7 

'  1.  I  find  little  of  that  fear,  I  bless  God. 

'2.  Nor  is  it  that  I  think  I  have  attained  any  emi- 
nent degree  of  grace,  that  I  am  not  afflicted  with  that 
fear:  nay  more  than  that,  I  acknowledge,  to  be  de- 
livered from  such  fear  is  itself  a  great  mercy,  and 
gracious  vouchsafement. 

'3.  I  hope  I  am  in  a  state  of  favour  and  acceptance 
with  God,  which  I  apprehend  I  owe  to  infinite  rich 
mercy  in  the  Redeemer's  blood.  Great  forgiveness  I 
need,  for  I  am  a  miserable  sinful  wretch:  this  I  trust  I 
have  upon  gospel  terms. 

'  4.  It  is  pleasant  to  me  hereupon  to  think  of  going 
into  eternity;  of  laying  dowTi  the  body  of  flesh  and 
sin  and  death  together ;  and  of  being  perfectly  holy, 
and  associated  with  them  that  are  so,  in  holy  work  and 
enjoyment. 

'5.  To  put  off  this  tabernacle  so  easily,  I  reckon 
would  to  me  be  a  merciful  dispensation,  who  am  more 
afraid  of  sharp  pains  than  of  death.    I  think  I  should 


joyfully  embrace  those  waves  that  should  cast  me  on 
an  tmdesigned  shore,  and  when  I  intended  Liverpool, 
should  land  me  in  heaven. 

'6.  Yet  I  bless  God  I  have  no  weariness  of  life, 
nor  of  his  work  in  this  world,  if  he  shall  yet  please 
further  to  employ  me  here. 

'  IV.  Cluaere ;  But  am  I  not  solicitous,  lest  if  thib 
should  prove  the  event,  it  will  be  judged  a  testimony 
against  me,  as  to  this  present  undertaking  7 

'  1.  It  is  an  honest  design  I  go  upon.  I  have,  as  I 
said,  no  selfish  design  that  oversways  me  in  it.     I  have 

no  design  to  prejudice  Mr.  C .     I  believe  I  shall  do 

him  no  actual  prejudice.  Wherein  I  can  justly  befriend 
him,  I  go  resolved  to  do  it.  If  I  can  do  any  thing  for 
the  holding  of  the  remainder  together,  without  the 
neglect  of  greater  work,  I  do  apprehend  I  shall  do  a 
just  and  needful  thing :  but  should  do  nothing  if  I  had 
opportunity,  till  I  knew  more.    But, 

'2.  To  judge  of  the  justice  of  a  cause  by  the  suc- 
cess, is  a  most  imjust  way  of  judging.  Many  a  just 
business  has  miscarried.  If  I  get  well  into  the  other 
world,  such  censures  will  be  a  small  matter  in  my  eye ; 
and  they  are  not  great  now. 

'3.  God  will  accept  my  sincere  intentions,  though 
I  effect  nothing. 

'4.  My  journey  was  to  me  absolutely  necessary, 
who  could  without  it  neither  grant  nor  deny. 

'  Consolations  to  my  wife  and  other  relatiojis,  supposing 
they  hear  of  my  deaih. 

'1.  Whom  or  what  have  you  lostl  A  poor  creature 
that  could  never  be  of  much  use  to  you. 

'  2.  You  are  to  consider  me,  not  as  lost  in  my  prime, 
but  as  now  I  am  sensibly  under  great  decays,  and  not 
likely  to  continue  long,  except  some  means  hitherto  not 
thought  on  should  have  been  tried.  What  a  summer 
had  I  of  the  last !  seldom  able  to  walk  the  streets ;  and 
not  only  often  disabled  by  pain,  but  weakness.  And 
what  great  advantage  to  you  would  it  have  been  to  see 
me  die"?  I  know  not  when  I  have  had  so  much  ease 
and  health  as  in  this  journey. 

'3.  God  not  only  hath  determined  the  thing,  we 
must  die,  but  all  circumstances,  when  and  where,  and 
after  what  manner,  and  all  wisely  and  well.  Why 
should  you  be  grieved,  that  he  hath  done  welll  not 
only  well  in  itself,  but  well  for  you,  if  you  love  him"? 

'4.  You  must  ere  long  follow,  and  shall  not  be  al- 
ways in  this  world  without  me. 

'5.  What  there  is  of  evil  in  this  case,  admits  of 
remedy.  Draw  so  much  nearer  to  God,  and  cease 
from  man :  mind  heaven  more,  and  your  loss  is  made  up. 

'6.  I  have,  through  the  grace  of  God,  preached 
immortal  truth,  which  will  survive,  and  may  be  to  your 
advantage. 

'7.  As  to  you  who  have  dependance  upon  me  for 
worldly  concernments:  I  was  never  a  good  projector 
for  the  world;  so  the  loss  is  not  great.  How  many, 
dear  to  God,  make  a  shift,  in  a  worse  condition  I  Forget 
not  the  motto,  God  will  provide.     He  that  feeds  ravens. 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE, 


and  takes  care  of  sparrows,  will  he  not  take  care  of 
you  1  are  you  of  his  family,  and  will  he  not  take  care 
of  his  own  1  instead  of  distrust  and  repining,  give 
thanks,  O  bless  him  with  all  your  soul,  that  he  hath 
revealed  and  given  himself  to  you  for  an  everlasting 
portion ;  and  whose  covenant  is  to  be  your  God,  and 
the  Grod  of  yours, 

'  8.  Let  it  be  some  satisfaction  to  you,  that  I  go 
willingly,  under  no  dread,  with  no  regret,  but  with 
some  comfortable  knowledge  of  my  way  and  end.' 

With  such  thoughts  and  workings  of  mind  as  these, 
did  he  tmdertake  and  pursue  his  voyage  and  journey, 
and  he  arrived  safe  at  London  after  having  been  five 
years  in  Ireland :  and  upon  mature  consideration,  he 
accepted  of  the  call  that  had  been  given  him,  and  set- 
tled there,  and  made  a  quiet  and  peaceable  use  of  King 
Charles's  indulgence,  preaching  to  a  considerable  and 
judicious  auditory,  by  whom  he  was  singularly  re- 
spected ;  and  he  was  much  esteemed,  not  only  by  his 
brethren  in  the  ministry  among  the  dissenters,  but  also 
by  several  eminent  divines  of  the  church  of  England, 
as  Dr.  Whitchcot,  Dr.  Kidder,  Dr.  Fowler,  Dr.  Lncas, 
and  others,  whom  he  often  conversed  with,  and  that 
with  great  freedom  and  familiarity. 

He  was  no  sooner  settled  here,  tnan  he  printed  the 
first  part  of  his  '  Living  Temple,'  by  which  it  was  his 
design  to  improve  that  notion,  that  a  good  man  is  the 
Temple  of  God.  This  first  part  is  upon  God's  exist- 
ence, and  his  conversableness  with  man ;  and  against 
Atheism,  or  the  Epicurean  deism.  'Tis  dedicated  to 
the  Lord  Viscount  Massarene,  governor  of  the  county 
of  London-Derr}^,  and  one  of  the  lords  of  his  majesty's 
most  honourable  privy-council  in  the  kingdom  of  Ire- 
land :  and  he  signifies  to  his  lordship,  that  this  tract 
was  conceived  under  his  roof,  and  born  out  of  his  house ; 
and  that  he  therefore  thought  it  decent  and  just,  that 
it  should  openly  own  the  relation  which  it  thereby 
had,  and  the  author's  great  obligations,  to  his  lordship. 

In  the  year  1677,  he  published  a  tract,  entitled,  '  The 
Reconcileableness  of  God's  Prescience  of  the  Sins  of  Men 
wi'.h  the  Wisdom  and  Sincerity  of  his  Counsels  and  Ex- 
hortations, and  whatever  other  Means  he  uses  to  prevent 
them :'  written  by  way  of  Letter  to  the  Honourable 
Robert  Boyle,  Esq.  This  treatise  was  exceedingly 
admired  by  some,  and  as  much  opposed  by  others. 
Mr.  Theophilus  Gale,  in  particular,  his  old  fellow-col- 
legiate, publishing  about  this  time  his  fourth  part  of 
'  The  Court  of  the  Gentiles,'  made  some  animadversions 
upon  it.2  Whereupon  Mr.  Howe  added  a  Postscript, 
in  defence  of  the  said  Letter,  in  which  he  makes  a  re- 
turn to  Mr.  Gale's  remarks.  Mr.  Danson  also  wrote 
against  this  tract,  but  I  know  not  that  Mr.  Howe  took 
any  notice  of  him-,  though  the  ingenious  Andrew 
Marvel,  Esq.  made  a  very  witty  and  entertaining  re- 
ply to  him.  Upon  the  account  of  this  performance  of 
his,  Mr.  Wood  represents  Mr.  Howe  as  a  great  and 
strict  Arminian  ;*  but  very  wrongfully.  For  that  which 
he  mainly  asserts   in  that  discourse,  is  no   more    than 

z  Seo  Court  of  the  Gentiles,  part  1.  page  522. 


this,  that  '  it  is  inconceivable,  that  the  holy  and  good 
God  should  irresistibly  determine  the  wills  of  men  to 
and  punish  the  same  thing ;  that  h«  should  irresistibly 
determine  the  will  of  a  man  to  the  hatred  of  his  own 
most  blessed  self,  and  then  exact  severest  punishments 
for  the  oflTence  done,'  which  the  strictest  Calvinist  has  not 
the  least  occasion  (as  far  as  I  can  perceive)  to  scru- 
ple to  acknowledge.  This  notion  widely  difiers  from 
asserting  the  blessed  God  imiversally  to  have  left  his 
reasonable  creatures  an  indetermined  power,  with  re- 
spect to  all  actions,  good  as  well  as  evil,  to  the  utter 
exclusion  of  efiicacious  grace,  in  reference  even  to  the 
best  actions  that  are.  'Tis  that  that  is  tlie  true  Armi- 
nian principle,  if  we  may  be  allowed  to  pass  a  judg- 
ment, from  the  works  of  the  most  eminent  writers  that 
are  in  that  scheme.  If  all  are  great  and  strict  Armini- 
ans,  who  cannot  allow  themselves  to  suppose  the  blessed 
God,  by  internal  influence,  to  have  a  hand  even  in 
the  worst  and  wickedest  actions,  as  far  as  in  the  best,  I 
am  persuaded  there  will  be  very  few  remaining  but 
what  are  such,  either  here  at  home,  or  in  any  of  the 
reformed  churches  abroad.  As  to  Mr.  Howe,  he  was 
so  well  satisfied  in  the  firmness  of  the  grounds  he  went 
upon,  that  at  last  he  did  not  stick  to  declare,  that  '  if 
he  found  himself  any  way  obliged  further  to  intermed- 
dle in  this  matter,  he  should  reckon  the  time  he  had  to 
spend  in  this  world  could  never  be  spent  to  better  pur- 
pose, than  in  discovering  the  fearful  consequences  of 
the  opposite  opinion,  the  vanity  of  the  sitbtei-fuges 
whereby  its  assertors  think  to  hide  the  malignitj'  of  it, 
and  the  inelficacy  of  the  arguments  brought  for  it.'k 

But  this  was  what  he  had  no  occasion  for,  God  had 
cut  out  other  work  for  him.  He  went  on  quietly  in  a 
course  of  practical  preaching  in  his  slated  ministry, 
and  was  very  useful  in  forwarding  many  in  their  way 
to  heaven. 

In  the  time  of  the  popish  plot,  when  things  took  a 
quite  difierent  turn  from  what  they  had  done  from  the 
restoration  till  then,  and  the  city  and  whole  body  of 
the  nation  was  full  of  terror  and  melancholy  apprehen- 
sions, he  made  it  his  endeavour  among  tliose  with  whom 
he  had  to  do,  to  make  the  awful  impressions  which 
people  were  at  that  time  under,  serviceable  to  the  pur- 
poses of  serious  religion  :  and  in  his  conversation  with 
the  clergy  of  the  established  church,  or  with  persons  of 
quality  and  distinction,  which  was  not  unfrequent,  he 
upon  all  occasions  discovered  a  very  peaceable  and 
healing  spirit,  often  giving  it  as  his  sense,  that  an  ac- 
commodation of  matters  between  the  church  and  the 
dissenters,  would  be  the  most  effectual  waj'  to  keep  out 
poper}^  And  it  has  been  the  opinion  of  many,  that  a 
fitter  season  for  a  union  could  not  well  occur,  than  did 
then  present  itself.  The  House  of  Commons  who  sat 
at  Westminster  in  1680,  seem  to  have  been  of  that 
mind,  and  therefore  they  brought  in  a  bill  for  uniting 
his  majest5''s  protestant  subjects,  and  nothing  was 
more  commonh'  talked  of  at  that  time.  And  not  being 
able  to  go  through  with  if,  they,  before  they  rose,  came 
to  a  resolution,  '  that  the  acts  of  parliament  made  in  the 


a  Allien.  Oxon.  vol.  2.  page  1014. 


b  Postscript,  page  131. 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


reigns  of  aueen  Elizabeth  and  King  James,  against 
popish  recusants,  ought  not  to  be  extended  against  pro- 
testant  dissenters :  and  that  the  prosecution  of  protest- 
ant  dissenters,  upon  the  penal  laws,  is  at  this  time 
grievous  to  the  subject,  a  weakening  the  protestant 
interest,  an  encouragement  to  popery,  and  dangerous 
to  the  peace  of  the  kingdom.' 

Mr.  Howe  had  about  this  time  an  invitation  from 
Bishop  Lloyd,  to  come  and  dine  with  him  the  next  day. 
He  was  apprehensive  it  could  not  be  without  some 
particular  design,  that  a  bishop  whom  he  had  not  seen, 
or  at  least  with  whom  he  had  no  acquaintance,  should 
send  to  desire  him  to  come  and  dine  with  him.  He 
sent  his  lordship  word,  that  he  was  engaged  that  day 
for  dinner,  (as  he  really  was  before  the  receipt  of  the 
message  sent  him,)  but  would  not  fail  of  waiting  upon 
him  afterwards.  Hereupon  the  Bishop  sent  again,  to 
let  him  know,  that  since  he  could  not  dine  with  him, 
he  would  not  give  him  the  trouble  to  come  so  far  as 
his  house,  but  would  meet  him  at  Dr.  Tillotson's,  the 
dean  of  Canterbury.  They  met  there  accordingly, 
and  the  Bishop  told  him  that  the  reason  why  he  de- 
sired a  meeting  with  him,  was  to  know  of  him,  what 
he  thought  would  satisfy  the  nonconformists,  that  so 
they  might  be  taken  into  the  church.'=  Mr,  Howe  an- 
swered, that  he  could  not  pretend  to  say  what  would 
satisfy  any  besides  himself;  for  that  all  had  not  an 
equal  latitude  in  such  matters.  The  Bishop  hereupon 
pressed  him  to  give  his  judgment,  what  he  thought 
would  satisfy  the  most;  for,  says  he,  I  would  have  the 
terms  so  large  as  to  comprehend  the  most  of  them. 
Mr.  Howe  told  him,  that  he  thought  it  would  go  a 
considerable  way  towards  it,  if  the  law  was  but  so 
framed,  as  that  ministers  might  be  enabled  to  promote 
parochial  reformation.  Why,  says  the  Bishop,  for  that 
reason,  I  am  for  taking  the  lay  chancellors  quite  away, 
as  being  the  great  hinderance  of  reformation.  At  length,' 
they  agreed  upon  a  meeting  the  next  night,  at  seven 
o'clock,  at  Dr.  Stillingfleet's,  the  dean  of  St.  Paul's. 
Mr.  Howe  proposed  to  bring  Mr.  Baxter  along  with 
him;  but  the  Bishop  would  by  no  means  allow  of  it. 
Then  he  proposed  to  bring  Dr.  Bates,  and  was  an- 
swered, that  no  man  could  be  more  proper.  Accord- 
ingly Dr.  Bates  and  Mr.  Howe  went  at  seven  in  the 
evening  to  Dean  Stillingfleet's,  as  had  been  appointed 
the  day  before.  The  Dean  had  provided  a  very  hand- 
some treat,  but  they  found  not  the  company  they  ex- 
pected. They  waited  till  eight,  till  nine,  till  near 
ten  o'clock ;  but  the  Bishop  neither  came,  nor  sent,  nor 
took  any  notice  of  the  matter  afterwards.  And  that 
very  night,  as  they  heard  the  next  morning,  the  bill  of 
exclusion  was  thrown  out  of  the  House  of  Peers,  by  a 
majority  of  thirty  voices,  fourteen  of  which  were 
bishops.  And  after  this,  there  was  no  further  occasion 
for  any  talk  about  a  comprehension. 

For  upon  this  turn  of  affairs,  it  is  observed  by  a  cele- 
brated writer  on  the  church  side,  that  '  the  clergy  struck 
up  with  zeal   for  the  duke's  succession:   as  if  a  popish 

c  A  copy  of  the  '  Hcadg  of  a  T?H1  for  uniting  his  Majesty  Protpstant  Subjects  ' 
which  was  agreed  upon  at  a  committee  of  the  House  of  Commons  Nov  18 
1680,  may  be  met  with,  Abndffment  of  Mr.  Baxter's  Life,  vol.  i.  p.  350         '     ' 


king  had  been  a  special  blessing  from  heaven,  to  be  much 
longed  for  by  the  protestant  church.  They  likewise 
gave  themselves  such  a  loose  agamst  the  nonconform- 
ists, as  if  nothing  was  so  formidable  as  that  party.  So 
that  in  all  their  sermons,  popery  was  quite  forgot,  and 
the  force  of  their  zeal  was  turned  almost  wholly  against 
the  dissenters. 'd  Amongst  the  rest,  Dean  Stillingfleet, 
from  whom  it  was  little  expected,  on  the  first  day  of 
Easter  term,  1680,  in  a  sermon  before  the  lord  mayor 
and  aldermen  of  the  city,  the  judges  and  Serjeants, 
from  Phil.  iii.  16.  (which  sermon  he  entitled,  '  The  Mis- 
chief of  Separation,')  took  occasion  to  represent  all  the 
nonconformists  as  schismaticks,  and  inveigh  against 
them  as  enemies  to  peace,  and  dangerous  to  the  church, 
&c.  This  sermon  was  answered  by  Dr.  Owen,  Mr. 
Baxter,  Mr.  Alsop,  Mr.  Barret,  and  others ;  and  among 
the  rest  Mr.  Howe  made  some  remarks  upon  it,  in  a 
pamphlet,  entitled,  '  A  Letter  written  out  of  the  Country 
to  a  Person  of  quality  in  the  City,  who  took  oiTence  at 
the  late  Sermon  of  Dr.  Stillingfleet,  Dean  of  St.  Paul's, 
before  the  Lord  Mayor;'  which  Letter  was  drawn  up 
with  great  clearness  and  strength  of  reasoning.  He 
therein  shows  how  unreasonably  the  Doctor  endeavours 
to  keep  the  dissenters,  who  after  the  utmost  search 
could  not  be  satisfied  to  conform,  in  a  state  of  danma- 
tion,  for  scrupMng  the  ceremonies;  at  least  in  a  ne- 
glect of  the  necessary  means  of  salvation.  He  shows 
his  arguments,  both  ad  rem,  and  adi  hoviinem  too,  to  be 
unconcluding ;  reflects  freely  on  the  Doctor  for  his  too 
great  acrimony,  and  too  little  seriousness  in  his  way  of 
management;  and  yet  closes  with  a  very  genteel  and 
handsome  address  to  such  as  were  oflfended  with  the 
Doctor's  sermon,  to  abate  their  indignation,  and  mo- 
derate their  censures,  and  stir  them  up  to  turn  their  re- 
flections upon  him,  into  serious  prayers  for  him,  for 
which  he  shows  there  weis  very  just  occasion. 

The  Doctor  himself  sticks  not  to  own,  that  in  this 
Letter  he  discourses  gravely  and  piously,  without  bit- 
terness and  rancour,  or  any  sharp  reflections,  and  some- 
times with  a  great  mixture  of  kindness  towards  him, 
for  which,  and  his  prayers  for  him,  he  heartily  thanks 
him.e  This  warm  sermon  of  the  Doctor's  was  gene- 
rally reckoned  very  ill-timed,  to  which  it's  not  unlikel)' 
but  Bishop  Burnet  may  have  a  reference,  when  he  says 
of  the  great  man,  that  '  he  went  into  the  humours  of  the 
high  sort  of  people,  beyond  what  became  him;  per- 
haps beyond  his  own  sense  of  things.'f 

Nor  can  I  forbear  to  take  notice  of  another  sermon, 
that  was  preached  this  year  (1680)  at  court,  by  Dean 
Tillotson,  from  Josh.  xxiv.  15.  entitled,  '  The  Protestant 
Religion  vindicated  from  the  charge  of  Singularity  and 
Novelty.'  In  this  sermon  there  is  this  notion;  that  no 
man  is  obliged  to  preach  against  the  religion  of  a 
country,  though  a  false  one,  imless  he  has  a  power  of 
working  miracles.  King  Charles  slept  most  part  of 
the  time  while  the  sermon  was  delivered ;  and  a  certain 
nobleman  stepped  to  him  as  soon  as  it  was  over,  and 
said,   'Tis  a  pity  your   majesty  slept;   for  we  had  the 

d  Bishop  Burnet's  History  of  his  own  Times,  vol.  i.  p.  501. 
e  Preface  to  his  '  Unreasonableness  of  Separation,'  p.  Ixi.  Ixii. 
t  History  of  his  owti  Times,  vol.  i.  p.  1S9. 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


rarest  piece  of  Hobbism  that  ever  you  heard  in  )'our 
life.  Ods  fish,  he  shall  print  it  then,  says  the  king ; 
and  immediately  called  the  lord  chamberlain,  and  gave 
him  his  command  to  the  Dean  to  print  his  sermon. 
When  it  came  from  the  press,  the  Dean  sent  it  as  a  pre- 
sent to  Mr.  Howe,  eis  he  usually  did  most  of  the  things 
he  printed.  Mr.  Howe  immediately  perused  it,  and 
^vas  not  a  little  troubled,  to  find  a  notion  there,  that  had 
so  ill  a  tendency  as  that  forementioned.  Whereupon 
he  drew  up  a  long  letter,  in  which  he  freely  expostu- 
lated with  the  Dean,  for  giving  such  a  wound  to  the 
Reformation  ;  signifying  to  him,  that  Luther  and  Calvin, 
and  the  rest  of  our  blessed  reformers,  were  (thanks  be 
to  God)  of  another  mind.  The  Christian  religion,  (said 
he,)  both  as  to  its  precepts  and  promises,  is  already  con- 
firmed by  miracles ;  and  must  it  be  repealed,  every 
time  a  wicked  governor  thinks  fit  to  establish  a  false 
religion  1  must  no  one  stand  up  for  the  true  religion, 
till  he  can  work  a  miracle  1  He  signified  to  him,  how 
much  he  was  grieved,  that  in  a  sermon  against  popery, 
he  should  plead  the  popish  cause  against  all  the  re- 
formers ;  and  insisted  upon  it,  that  we  had  incontest- 
able evidence  of  the  miracles  wrought  by  the  apostles, 
and  that  we  are  bound  to  believe  them,  and  take  reli- 
gion to  be  established  by  them,  without  any  further 
expectations,  &c.  Mr.  Howe  carried  the  letter  him- 
self, and  delivered  it  into  the  Dean's  own  hands ;  and 
he  taking  a  general  and  cursory  view  of  it,  signified 
his  willingness  to  talk  that  whole  matter  freely  over; 
but  said,  they  could  not  be  together  where  they  were, 
without  interruption,  and  therefore  moved  for  a  little 
journey  into  the  coxmtry,  that  so  they  might  have  free- 
dom of  discourse.  They  accordingly  agreed  to  go  and 
dine  that  day  with  the  Lady  Falconbridge  at  Sutton- 
Court,  and  Mr.  Howe  re  d  over  the  letter  to  the  Dean, 
and  enlarged  upon  the  contents  of  it,  as  they  were 
travelling  along  together  in  his  chariot.  The  good 
man  at  length  fell  to  weeping  freely,  and  said  that  this 
was  the  most  unhappy  thing  that  had  of  a  long  time 
befallen  him.  I  see  (says  he)  what  I  have  offered  is 
not  to  be  maintained.  But  he  told  him,  that  it  was  not 
his  turn  to  preach  as  on  that  day.  He  that  should  have 
been  the  preacher  being  sick,  the  Dean  said,  he  was 
sent  to  by  the  lord  chamberlain  to  supply  his  place : 
and  he  added,  that  he  had  but  little  notice,  and  so  con- 
sidered the  general  fears  of  popery,  and  this  text  oflTer- 
ed  itself,  and  he  thought  the  notion  resulted  from  it ; 
and,  says  he,  immediately  after  preaching,  I  received  a 
command  from  the  king,  to  print  the  sermon,  and  then 
it  was  not  in  my  power  to  alter  it.  I  am  the  better 
satisfied  that  there  is  no  mistake  as  to  the  substance  of 
this  passage,  because  he  from  whom  I  had  it,  did  not 
trust  to  his  bare  memory,  but  committed  it  to  writing, 
presently  after  he  received  the  account  from  Mr.  Howe 
himself.  And  though  such  a  story  as  this  may  make 
us  sensible  that  the  very  best  of  men  have  their  slips, 
yet  am  I  far  from  thinking  it  a  dishonour  to  this  great 
man,  to  be  open  to  conviction. 

In   1681    the   dissenters  were   prosecuted  with  great 

g  Hiatory  of  his  own  Times,  vol.  i.  page  501. 


violence  both  in  city  and  country,  and  the  severe  laws 
that  had  been  made  against  them  some  years  before,  as 
well  as  some  that  were  made  against  the  papists  in  the 
reign  of  Q.ueen  Elizabeth,  were  rigorously  put  in  exe- 
cution against  them,  without  any  favour.  Several  of 
the  bishops  concurred,  and  by  influence  from  court, 
were  prevailed  with  to  do  their  endeavour  to  push  for- 
ward the  civil  magistrate,  and  to  sharpen  the  rigour  of 
the  ecclesiastical  courts,  and  that  in  defiance  of  the 
votes  of  the  House  of  Commons  in  their  favour.  And 
as  Bishop  Burnet  observes,  '  such  of  the  clergy  as  would 
not  engage  in  the  common  fury,  were  cried  out  upon 
as  the  betrayers  of  the  church,  and  as  secret  favourers  of 
the  dissenters.'?  The  author  of  'the  Complete  History 
of  England, 'h  says,  that  '  this  year  there  was  a  vigorous 
prosecution  of  the  protestant  dissenters,  which  was  ge- 
nerally thought  a  piece  of  court-artifice,  to  play  the 
church  of  England  against  the  dissenters,  and  enrage 
the  dissenters  against  the  church  of  England,  that  they 
might  not  unite  and  see  their  common  danger,  but 
rather  by  destroying  one  another,  might  make  room  for 
a  third  party,  that  lay  behind  the  curtain,  and  watched 
an  opportunity  of  the  duke's  succession.'  And  at  this 
juncture,  Mr.  Howe  published  a  discourse  of  '  Thought- 
fulness  for  the  Morrow,  with  an  Appendix,  concerning 
the  immoderate  Desire  of  foreknowing  Things  to  come,' 
in  8vo.  It  is  dedicated  to  the  Lady  Anne  Wharton,  of 
Upper  Winchingdon  in  the  county  of  Bucks,  who  had 
expressed  a  desire  of  seeing  somewhat  written  on  that 
subject.  To  which  is  added,  '  A  Discourse  of  Charity, 
in  reference  to  other  Men's  Sins,  from  1  Cor.  xiii.  6.' 
He  this  year  also  published  '  A  Funeral  Sermon  on  the 
Decease  of  Mrs.  Margaret  Baxter,  who  died  June  28lh, 
from  2  Cor.  v.  8.' 

In  1682  things  were  much  in  the  same  state  as  the 
year  before.  This  year  also  Mr.  Howe  published  se- 
veral little  things  ;  as,  '  A  Discourse  on  the  right  Use  of 
that  Argument  in  Prayer,  from  the  Name  of  God,  on 
behalf  of  a  People  that  profess  it,  from  Jer.  xiv.  21.'  8vo. 
'  A  Discourse  on  Self-Dedication,  at  the  Anniversary 
Thanksgiving  of  the  Earl  of  Kildare,  for  a  great  Deli- 
verance,' in  12mo,  and  'A  Funeral  Sermon  for  Mr, 
Richard  Fairclough,  \vho  deceased  July  4th,  from  Matt. 
XXV.  21.'  And  he  now  drew  up  those  Armotations  on  the 
three  Epistles  of  St.  John,  which  are  to  be  met  with  in  the 
second  volume,  or  continuation,  of  Mr.  Pool. 

In  1683  there  was  a  most  cruel  order  made  by  the 
justices  of  peace  at  their  quarter-sessions  at  Exon, 
against  all  nonconforming  ntinisters,  allowing  a  reward 
of  forty  shillings  to  any  person  that  apprehended  any 
oire  of  them,  and  declaring  their  resolution  to  put  in 
execution  against  them  the  severest  laws,  and  par- 
ticularly that  of  the  35th  of  Elizabeth,  the  penalties 
whereof  are  imprisonment,  abjuration  of  the  realm,  or 
death.  And  Bishop  Lamplugh  (who  was  afterwards 
archbishop  of  York)  required  the  order  to  be  read  by 
all  the  clergy  on  the  next  Sunday  after  it  should  be 
tendered  to  them,  on  purpose  (as  was  said)  '  that  the 
care  of  the    justices  of  Devon,  for  the   preservation  of 

h  Vol.  iii.  page  403. 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


the  public  peace,  might  be  fuller  known,  and  have  a  bet- 
ter effect.' 

The  same  year  there  was  published  in  the  '  Continua- 
tion of  the  Morning  Exercise,'  an  excellent  sermon  of 
Mr.  Howe's,  from  Col.  ii.  2.  upon  this  question,  '  What 
may  most  hopefully  be  attempted,  to  allay  animosities 
among  protestants,  that  our    divisions  may  not  be  our 

ruin  V 

'In  order  to  this,  he  earnestly  recommends  to  all 
the  professors  of  religion,  the  maintaining  of  a  sincere 
love  to  one  another,  and  the  improving  of  their  faith  to 
greater  measures  of  clearness,  certainty,  and  eflScacy, 
in  reference  to  the  substantials  of  Christianity.  A 
generous  love,  not  to  Christians  of  this  or  that  party  or 
denomination  only,  but  to  all  in  whom  the  true  essen- 
tials of  Christianity  are  found,  would  (he  says)  greatly 
contribute  to  the  vigour  of  the  Christian  life.  It  would 
inspire  Christians  generally  with  a  sacred  courage  and 
fortitude,  when  they  should  know  and  even  feel  them- 
selves knit  together  in  love.  It  would  on  the  contrary 
extinguish  or  abate  the  unhallowed  fire  of  our  anger 
and  wrath  towards  one  another.  It  would  oblige  us 
to  all  acts  of  mutual  kindness  and  friendship.  Pre- 
judices would  cease,  and  jealousies  concerning  each 
other,  and  a  mutual  confidence  would  be  produced.  It 
would  make  us  earnestly  covet  an  entire  union  in  all 
the  things  wherein  we  differ,  and  contribute  greatly  to 
it.  It  would  make  us  much  more  apt  to  yield  to  one 
another,  and  abate  all  that  ever  we  can,  in  order  to  as 
full  an  accommodation  as  is  any  way  possible ;  that  if 
we  cannot  agree  upon  either  extreme,  we  might  at  last 
meet  in  the  middle.  It  would  make  us  abstain  from 
mutual  censures  of  one  another  as  insincere  for  our  re- 
maining differences ;  and  convince  us  that  such  cen- 
sures are  very  unreasonable,  because  all  have  not  the 
same  understanding,  nor  the  same  gust  and  relish  of 
things.  It  would  oblige  us,  after  competent  endea- 
vours of  mutual  satisfaction,  about  the  matters  wherein 
we  differ,  to  forbear  further  urging  of  one  another  con- 
cerning them :  and  it  would  make  us  forbear  reviling 
and  exposing  one  another,  and  the  industrious  seeking 
one  another's  ruin.  And  then  if,  at  the  same  time,  we 
did  but  endeavour  to  have  our  souls  possessed  with  a 
more  clear,  efficacious,  practical  faith  of  the  Gospel, 
and  our  hearts  so  overcome,  as  practically  and  vitally 
to  receive  it,  we  should  apprehend  the  things  to  be 
truly  great  wherein  we  are  to  unite,  and  should,  in 
comparison,  apprehend  all  things  else  to  be  little ;  and 
so  should  be  more  strongly  inclined  to  hold  together 
by  the  things  wherein  we  agree,  than  to  contend  with 
one  another  about  the  things  wherein  we  differ.  Thus 
our  religion  would  revive,  and  become  a  vital  powerful 
thing ;  and  consequently  more  grateful  to  God,  and 
awful  to  men.  And  if  we  in  our  several  particular  sta- 
tions are  but  herein  careful,  if  we  but  do  our  own  part, 
we  may  be  able  to  say  it  was  not  our  fault,  but  Chris- 
tians had  been  combined,  and  entirely  one  with  each 
other ;  but  they  had  been  more  thoroughly  Christian, 
and  more  entirely  united  with  God  in  Christ ;  and  that 
Christianity  had  been  a  more  lively,  powerful,  awful, 


amiable  thing.  If  the  Christian  commtmity  moulder, 
decay,  be  enfeebled,  broken,  dispirited,  and  ruined 
in  great  part,  this  ruin  shall  not  rest  vmder  our 
hands.' 

On  July  20th  this  year,  that  noble  patriot,  William 
Lord  Russel,  was  beheaded  in  Lincolns-Inn-Fields,  to 
the  no  small  terror  and  consternation  of  the  true  lovers 
of  their  country,  and  friends  of  the  protestant  religion. 
This  was  a  severe  stroke  upon  the  Bedford  family,  and 
an  unspeakable  loss  to  the  excellent  lady,  who  was  left 
a  mournful  widow,  and  continued  so  to  the  year  1723, 
when  she  went  to  her  grave  full  of  years.  Mr.  Howe 
upon  this  melancholy  occasion  wrote  a  consolatory  letter 
to  her,  which  very  well  deserves  to  be  preserved,  and 
transmitted  to  posterity ;  an  authentic  copy  of  which 
having  been  kept  safe  in  his  family,  here  follows. 

'  Madam, 

'  It  can  avail  you  nothing,  to  let  your  honour  know 
from  what  hand  this  paper  comes ;  and  my  own  design 
in  it  is  abundantly  answered,  if  what  it  contains  proves 
useful  to  you.  Your  affliction  hath  been  great,  unspeaJc- 
ably  beyond  what  it  is  in  my  power  or  design  to  repre- 
sent ;  and  your  supports  (in  the  paroxysm  of  your  afflic- 
tion) have  been  very  extraordinary  ;  and  such  as  wherein 
all  that  have  observed  or  heard,  could  not  but  acknow- 
ledge a  divine  hand. 

'  But  your  affliction  was  not  limited  and  enclosed 
within  the  limits  of  one  black  day,  nor  is  like  those 
more  common  ones,  the  sense  whereof  abates  and  wears 
off  by  time ;  but  is  continued,  and  probably  more  felt, 
as  time  runs  on :  which  therefore  makes  you  need  con- 
tinued help  from  Heaven  every  da5^ 

'Yet  there  is  here  a  great  difference  between  what 
expectations  we  may  have  of  divine  assistance,  in  the 
beginning  or  first  violence  of  some  great  affliction,  and 
in  the  contintied  course  of  it  afterwards.  At  first  we 
are  apt  to  be  astonished,  a  consternation  seizes  our 
thinking  faculty,  especially  as  to  that  exercise  of  it, 
whereby  it  should  minister  to  our  relief  In  this  case 
the  merciful  God  doth  more  extraordinarily  assist  such 
as  sincerely  trust  and  resign  themselves  to  him ;  unto 
these,  as  his  more  peculiar  favourites,  his  sustaining 
influences  are  more  immediate,  and  more  efficacious, 
so  as  even  (in  the  present  exigency)  to  prevent  and 
supersede  any  endeavour  of  theirs,  whereof  they  are, 
then,  less  capable.  And  of  the  largeness  and  bounty 
of  his  goodness,  in  such  a  case,  few  have  had  greater 
experience  than  your  ladyship ;  which  was  eminently 
seen,  in  that  magnanimity,  that  composure  and  present- 
ness  of  mind,  much  admired  by  your  friends,  and  no 
doubt  by  the  special  favour  of  Heaven  afforded  you  in 
the  needful  season :  so  that  while  that  amazing  ca- 
lamity was  approaching,  and  stood  in  nearer  view, 
nothing  that  was  fit  or  wise  or  great  was  omitted, 
nothing  indecent  done.  Which  is  not  now  said,  God 
knows,  to  flatter  your  ladyship,  (whereof  the  progress 
will  further  vindicate  me,)  for  I  ascribe  it  to  God,  as  I 
trust  your  ladyship,  with  unfeigned  gratitude,  will  also 
do.     And  I  mention  it,  as  that  whereby  you  are  under 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


obligation    to  endeavour,  your    continued    temper  and 
deportment  may  be  agreeable  to  such  beginnings. 

'  For  now  (which  is  the  other  thing,  whereof  a  distinct 
observation  ought  to  be  had)  in  the  continuance  and 
settled  state  of  the  affliction,  when  the  fury  of  the  first 
assault  is  over,  and  we  have  had  leisure  to  recollect 
ourselves,  and  recover  our  dissipated  spirits,  though  we 
are  then  more  sensible  of  pain  and  smart,  yet  also  the 
power  of  using  our  own  thoughts  is  restored.  And 
being  so,  although  we  are  too  apt  to  use  them  to  our 
greater  hurt  and  prejudice,  we  are  really  put  again 
into  a  capacity  of  using  them  to  our  advantage,  which 
oui"  good  God  doth  in  much  wisdom  and  righteousness 
require  we  should  do.  Whereupon  we  are  to  expect 
his  continual  assistance  for  our  support  under  continued 
affliction,  in  the  way  of  concurrence  and  co-operation 
with  our  due  use  of  our  own  thoughts,  aptly  chosen, 
as  much  as  in  us  is,  and  designed  by  ourselves,  for  our 
own  comfort  and  support. 

'Now  as  for  thoughts  suitable  to  your  honour's  case, 
I  have  reason  to  be  conscious  that  what  I  shall  write 
can  make  but  little  accession,  I  will  not  say  to  a  closet, 
but  to  a  mind  so  well  furnished,  as  you  are  owner  of: 
yet  I  know  it  is  remote  from  you  to  slight  a  well-in- 
tended offer  and  essay,  that  really  proceeds  only  from 
a  verj'  compassionate  sense  of  your  sorrows,  and  un- 
feigned desire  to  contribute  something  (if  the  Father 
of  mercies,  and  the  God  of  all  comforts  and  consola- 
tions, will  please  to  favour  the  endeavour)  to  your 
relief. 

'And  the  thoughts  which  I  shall  most  humbly  offer, 
will  have  that  first  and  more  immediate  design,  but  to 
persuade  your  making  use  of  )'^our  own ;  that  is,  that 
you  would  please  to  turn  and  apply  them  to  subjects 
more  apt  to  serve  this  purpose,  the  moderating  your 
own  grief,  and  the  attaining  an  habitual  well-tempered 
cheerfulness,  for  your  remaining  time  in  this  world. 
For  I  consider  how  incident  it  is  to  the  afiiicted,  to 
indulge  to  themselves  an  unlimited  liberty  in  their 
sorrows,  to  give  themselves  up  to  them,  to  make  them 
meat  and  drink,  to  justify  them  in  all  their  excesses,  as 
that  (otherwise)  good  and  holy  man  of  God  did  his 
anger,  and  say,  they  do  well  to  be  sorrowful  even  to 
the  death,  and  (as  another)  to  refuse  to  be  comforted. 
And  I  also  consider  that  our  own  thoughts  must  and 
will  always  be  the  immediate  ministers  either  of  our 
trouble  or  comfort,  though  as  to  the  latter,  God  only  is 
the  supreme  Author;  and  we  altogether  insufficient  to 
think  any  thing  that  good  is,  as  of  ourselves.  It  is 
God  that  comforts  those  that  are  cast  down,  but  by  our 
own  thoughts  employed  to  that  purpose,  not  without 
them. 

'  I  do  not  doubt,  madam,  but  if  you  once  fixedly  ap- 
prehend that  there  is  sin  in  an  over-abounding  sorrow, 
you  will  soon  endeavour  its  restraint:  for  I  cannot 
think  you  would  more  earnestly  set  5'^ourself  to  avoid 
any  thing,  than  what  you  apprehend  will  offend  God, 
especially  the  doing  that  in  a  continued  course.  Is 
there  any  time  when  joy  in  God  is  a  duty?  'tis  very 
plain  the  .sorrow  that  excludes  it  is  a  sin.    How  the 


former  may  appear  to  be  a  duty,  and  how  far,  let  it  be 
considered. 

'  It  is  not  to  be  doubled  but  that  he  that  made  us  hath 
a  right  to  rule  us;  he  that  gave  us  being,  to  give  os 
law:  nor  again,  that  the  divine  government  reaches 
our  minds,  and  that  they  are  the  prime  and  first  seat  of 
his  empire.  His  kingdom  is  within  us.  We  are  not 
then  to  exercise  our  thoughts,  desires,  love,  joy,  or 
sorrow,  according  to  our  own  will,  but  his;  not  as  we 
please,  or  find  ourselves  inclined,  but  suitably  to  his 
precepts  and  purposes,  his  rules  and  ends. 

'  'Tis  evident  that  withal  the  earthly  state  is  mixed, 
intermediate  between  the  perfect  felicity  of  heaven, 
and  the  total  misery  of  hell:  and  further,  that  the 
temper  of  our  spirits  ought  to  have  in  it  a  mixture  of 
joy  and  sorrow,  proportionable  to  our  state,  or  what 
there  is  in  it  of  the  just  occasions  or  causes  of  both. 

'  Where  Christianity  obtains,  and  the  Gospel  of  our 
Saviour  is  preached,  there  is  much  greater  cause  of  joy 
than  elsewhere.  The  visible  aspect  of  it  imports  a 
design  to  form  men's  minds  to  gladness,  inasmuch  as, 
wheresoever  it  comes,  it  proclaims  peace  to  the  world, 
and  represents  the  offended  Majesty  of  heaven  willing 
to  be  reconciled  to  his  offending  creatures  on  earth. 
So  the  angel  prefaced  the  Gospel,  when  our  Lord  was 
born  into  the  world,  Luke  ii.  I  tell  3'ou  glad  tidings 
of  great  joy,  which  shall  be  to  all  people.  And  so  the 
multitude  of  accompanying  angels  sum  it  up ;  Glory 
be  to  God  in  Jhe  highest,  peace  on  earth,  good  will 
towards  men. 

'  To  them  that  truly  receive  the  Gospel,  and  wuh 
whom  it  hath  its  effect,  the  catise  of  rejoicing  riseth 
much  higher.  For  if  the  offer  and  hope  of  recon- 
ciliation be  a  just  ground  of  joy,  how  much  more 
actual  agreement  with  God,  upon  the  terms  of  the 
Gospel,  and  reconciliation  itself!  We  rejoice  in  God 
through  Jesus  Christ,  by  whom  we  have  received  the 
atonement,  Rom.  v.  11.  To  such  there  are  express 
precepts  given  to  rejoice  in  the  Lord  alwa)"s,  Phil.  iv. 
4.  And  lest  that  should  be  thought  to  have  been 
spoken  hastily,  and  that  it  might  have  its  full  weight, 
that  great  apostle  immediately  adds.  And  again  I  say 
to  you,  rejoice.  And  elsewhere.  Rejoice  evermore,  I 
Thess.  V.  16. 

'  Hence  therefore  the  genuine  right  temper  and  frame 
of  a  truly  Christian  mind  and  spirit  may  be  evidently  con- 
cluded to  be  this,  (for  such  precepts  do  not  signify  no- 
thing, nor  can  they  be  understood  to  signify  less,)  viz. 
an  habitual  joyfulncss,  prevailing  over  all  the  tempo- 
rary occasions  of  sorrow,  that  occur  to  them.  For  none 
can  be  thought  of  that  can  preponderate,  or  be  equal 
to  the  jtist  and  great  causes  of  their  ]0}^  This  is  the 
true  frame,  model,  and  constitution  of  the  kingdom  of 
God,  which  ought  to  have  place  in  us;  herein  it  con- 
sists, viz.  in  righteousness  and  peace,  and  joy  in  the 
Holy  Ghost,  Rom.  xiv.  17. 

'  Nor  is  this  a  theory  only,  or  the  idea  and  notion  of 
an  excellent  temper  of  spirit,  which  we  may  contem- 
plate indeed,  but  can  never  attain  to.    For  we  find  it 
I  also  to  have  been  the  attainment,  and  usual  temper  of 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


Christians  heretofore,  that  being  justified  by  faith,  and 
having  peace  with  God,  they  have  rejoiced  in  hope  of 
the  glory  of  God,  unto  that  degree,  as  even  to  glory  in 
their  tribulations  also,  Rom.  v.  1—3.  And  that  in  the 
confidence  they  should  be  kept  by  the  power  of  God, 
through  faith  unto  salvation,  they  have  hereupon  greatly 
rejoiced,  though  with  some  mixture  of  heaviness  (where- 
of there  was  need)  from  their  manifold  trials.  But  that 
their  joy  did  surmount  and  prevail  over  their  heaviness 
is  manifest ;  for  this  is  spoken  of  with  much  diminution, 
whereas  they  are  said  to  rejoice  greatly,  and  with  a  joy 
anspeakable  and  full  of  glory,  1  Pet.  i.  5,  G,  8. 

'  Yea,  and  such  care  hath  the  great  God  taken  for  the 
preserving  of  this  temper  of  spirit  among  his  people 
more  anciently,  that  even  their  sorrow  for  sin  itself 
(the  most  justifiable  of  all  other)  hath  had  restraints 
put  upon  it,  lest  it  should  too  long  exclude  or  intermit 
the  exercise  of  this  joy.  For  when  a  great  assembly  of 
them  were  universally  in  tears,  upon  hearing  the  law 
read,  and  the  sense  given,  they  were  forbidden  to  weep 
or  mourn,  or  be  sorry,  because  the  joy  of  the  Lord  was 
their  strength,  Neh.  viii.  8—10.  That  most  just  sorrow 
had  been  unjust,  had  it  been  continued,  so  as  to  ex- 
clude the  seasonable  turn  and  alternation  of  this  joy. 
For  even  such  sorrow  itself  is  not  required,  or  neces- 
sary for  itself  'Tis  remote  from  the  goodness  and 
benignity  of  God's  ever-blessed  nature,  to  take  pleasure 
in  the  sorrows  of  his  people,  as  they  are  such,  or  that 
they  should  sorrow  for  sorrow's  sake;  but  only  as  a 
means  and  preparative  to  their  following  joy.  And 
nothing  can  be  more  unreasonable,  than  that  the  means 
should  exclude  the  end,  or  be  used  against  the  purpose 
tbey  should  serve. 

'  It  is  then  upon  the  whole  most  manifest,  that  no 
temporary  afliiction  whatsoever,  upon  one  who  stands 
ifl  special  relation  to  God,  as  a  reconciled  (and  which 
is  consequent,  an  adopted)  person,  though  attended 
with  the  most  aggravating  circumstances,  can  justify 
such  a  sorrow,  (so  deep  or  so  continued,)  as  shall  pre- 
vail against  and  shut  out  a  religious  holy  joy,  or  hinder 
it  from  being  the  prevailing  principle  in  such  a  one. 
What  can  make  that  sorrow  allowable  or  innocent, 
(what  event  of  Providence,  that  can,  whatever  it  is,  be 
no  other  than  an  accident  to  our  Christian  state,)  that 
shall  resist  the  most  natural  design  and  end  of  Chris- 
tianity itself?  that  shall  deprave  and  debase  the  truly 
Christian  temper,  and  disobey  and  violate  most  express 
Christian  precepts  1  subvert  the  constitution  of  Christ's 
kingdom  among  men  1  and  turn  this  earth  (the  place 
of  God's  treaty  with  the  inhabitants  of  it,  in  order  to  their 
reconciliation  to  himself,  and  to  the  reconciled  the  portal 
and  gate  of  heaven,  yea,  and  where  the  state  of  the  very 
worst  and  most  miserable  has  some  mixture  of  good  in 
it,  that  makes  the  evil  of  it  less  than  that  of  hell)  into  a 
mere  hell  to  themselves,  of  sorrow  without  mixture,  and 
■wherein  shall  be  nothing  but  weeping  and  wailing. 

'■  The  cause  of  your  sorrow,  madam,  is  exceeding  great. 
Tne  causes  of  your  joy  are  inexpressibly  greater.  You 
have  infinitely  more  left  than  you  have  lost.  Doth  it 
r.eed  to  be  disputed  whether  God  be  better  and  greater 


than  man"?  or  more  to  be  valued,  loved,  and  delighted 
in  1  and  whether  an  eternalrelation  be  more  considerable 
than  a  temporary  one  1  Was  it  not  your  constant  sense 
in  your  best  outward  state.  Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but 
thee,  O  God,  and  whom  can  I  desire  on  earth,  in  compa- 
rison of  thee !  Psal.  Ixxiii.  25.  Herein  the  state  of  your 
ladyship's  case  is  still  the  same  (if  you  cannot  rather  with 
greater  clearness  and  with  less  hesitation  pronounce 
those  latter  words.)  The  principal  causes  of  your  joy 
are  immutable,  such  as  no  supervening  thing  can  alter. 
You  have  lost  a  most  pleasant,  delectable,  earthly  rela- 
tive. Doth  the  blessed  God  hereby  cease  to  be  the 
best  and  most  excellent  good  7  Is  his  nature  changed  1 
his  everlasting  covenant  reversed  and  annulled  1  which 
is  ordered  in  all  things  and  sure,  and  is  to  be  all  your 
salvation  and  all  your  desire,  whether  he  make  your 
house  on  earth  to  grow  or  not  to  grow,  2  Sam.  xxiii.  4. 
That  sorrow  which  exceeds  the  proportion  of  its  cause, 
compared  with  the  remaining  true  and  real  causes  of 
rejoicing,  is  in  that  excess  causeless;  i.  e.  that  excess 
of  it  wants  a  cause,  such  as  can  justify  or  aflford  de- 
fence unto  it. 

'  We  are  required,  in  reference  to  our  nearest  relations 
in  this  world,  (when  we  lose  them,)  to  weep  as  if  we 
wept  not,  as  well  as  (u^hen  we  enjoy  them)  to  rejoice 
as  if  we  rejoiced  not,  because  our  time  here  is  short, 
and  the  fashion  of  this  world  passeth  away,  1  Cor.  vii. 
29 — 31.  We  are  finite  beings,  and  so  are  they.  Our 
passions  in  reference  to  them  must  not  be  infinite,  and 
without  limit,  or  be  limited  only  by  the  limited  capa- 
city of  our  nature,  so  as  to  work  to  the  utmost  extent 
of  that,  as  the  fire  burns,  and  the  winds  blow,  as  much 
as  they  can:  but  they  are  to  be  limited  by  the  power, 
design,  and  endeavour  of  our  rea.son  and  grace  (not 
only  by  the  mere  impotency  of  our  nature)  in  reference 
to  all  created  objects.  Whereas  in  reference  to  the  in- 
finite uncreated  Good,  towards  which  there  is  no  dan- 
ger or  possibility  of  exceeding  in  our  affection,  we  are 
never  to  design  to  ourselves  any  limits  at  all;  for  that 
would  suppose  we  had  loved  God  enough,  or  as  much 
as  he  deserved,  which  were  not  only  to  limit  ourselves, 
but  him  too ;  and  were  a  constructive  denial  of  his  in- 
finite immense  goodness,  and  consequently  of  his  very 
Godhead.  Of  so  great  concernment  it  is  to  us,  that  in 
the  liberty  we  give  our  affections,  we  observe  the  just 
difference  which  ought  to  be  in  their  exercise,  towards 
God,  and  towards  creatures. 

'  It  is  also  to  be  considered,  that  the  great  God  is 
pleased  so  to  condescend,  as  himself  to  bear  the  name 
and  sustain  the  capacity  of  our  nearest  earthly  relations ; 
which  implies  that  what  they  were  to  us,  in  this  or  that 
kiiid,  he  will  be  in  a  transcendent  and  far  more  noble 
kind.  I  doubt  not  but  your  ladyship  hath  good  right 
to  apply  to  yourself  those  words  of  the  prophet,  Isa. 
Ivi.  5.  Thy  Maker  is  thy  husband,  &c.  Whereupon, 
as  he  infinitely  transcends  all  that  is  delectable  in  the 
most  excellent  earthly  relation,  it  ought  to  be  endea- 
voured, that  the  affection  placed  on  him  should  pro- 
portionably  excel.  I  cannot  think  any  person  in  the 
world  would  be  a  more  severe  or  impartial  judge  of  a 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


criminal  affection  than  your  ladyship :  or  that  it  would 
look  worse  unto  any  eye,  if  any  one  should  so  deeply 
lake  to  heart  the  death  of  an  unrelated  person,  as  never 
to  take  pleasure  more,  in  the  life,  presence,  and  conver- 
sation of  one  most  nearly  related.  And  you  do  well 
know  that  such  an  height  (or  that  supremacy)  of  affec- 
tion, as  is  due  to  the  ever-blessed  God,  cannot  without 
great  injury  be  placed  any  where  else.  As  we  are  to 
have  none  other  God  before  him ;  so  him  alone  we  are  to 
love  with  all  our  heart  and  soul,  and  might  and  mind. 

'  And  it  ought  further  to  be  remembered,  that  whatso- 
ever interest  we  have  or  had  in  any  the  nearest  relative 
on  earth,  his  interest  who  made  both  is  far  superior. 
He  made  us  and  all  things  primarily  for  himself,  to  serve 
great  and  important  ends  of  his  own  ;  so  that  our  satis- 
faction in  any  creature,  is  but  secondary  and  collateral  to 
the  principal  design  of  its  creation. 

'  Which  consideration  would  prevent  a  practical  error 
and  mistake  that  is  too  usual  with  pious  persons, 
afflicted  M-ith  the  loss  of  any  near  relation,  that  they 
think  the  chief  intention  of  such  a  providence  is  their 
punishment.  And  hereupon  they  are  apt  to  justify  the 
utmost  excesses  of  their  sorrow,  upon  such  an  occasion, 
accounting  they  can  never  be  sensible  enough  of  the 
divine  displeasure  appearing  in  it;  and  make  it  their 
whole  business  (or  employ  their  time  and  thoughts  be- 
yond a  due  proportion)  to  find  out  and  fasten  upon  some 
particular  sin  of  theirs,  which  they  may  judge  God  was 
offended  with  them  for,  and  designed  now  to  punish 
upon  them.  It  is  indeed  the  part  of  filial  ingenuity, 
deeply  to  apprehend  the  displeasure  af  our  father  ;  and 
an  argument  of  great  sincerity,  to  be  very  inquisitive 
after  any  sin  for  which  we  may  suppo.se  him  displeased 
with  us,  and  apt  to  charge  ourselves  severely  with  it, 
though  perhaps  upon  utmost  inquiry,  there  is  nothing 
particularly  to  be  reflected  on,  other  than  common  in- 
firmity incident  to  the  best,  (and  it  is  well  when  at 
length  we  can  make  that  judgment,  because  there 
really  is  no  more,  not  for  that  we  did  not  inquire,)  and 
perhaps  also  God  intended  no  more  in  such  a  dispensa- 
tion, (as  to  what  concerned  us  in  it,)  than  only,  in  the 
general,  to  take  off  our  minds  and  hearts  more  from 
this  world,  and  draw  them  more  entirely  to  himself. 
For  if  we  were  never  so  innocent,  must  therefore  such 
a  relative  of  ours  have  been  immortal  1  But  the  error 
in  practice  as  to  this  case,  lies  here :  not  that  our 
thoughts  are  muck  exercised  this  way,  but  too  much. 
We  ought  to  consider  in  every  case,  principally,  that 
which  is  principal.  God  did  not  create  this  or  that  ex- 
cellent person,  and  place  him  for  a  while  in  the  world, 
principally  lo  please  us ;  nor  therefore  doth  he  take 
him  away,  principally  to  displease  or  punish  us  ;  but 
for  much  nobler  and  greater  ends  which  he  hath  pro- 
posed to  himself  concerning  him.  Nor  are  we  to  reckon 
ourselves  so  little  interested  in  the  great  and  sovereign 
Lord  of  all,  whom  we  have  taken  to  be  our  God,  and  to 
whom  we  have  absolutely  resigned  and  devoted  our- 
selves, as  not  to  be  obliged  to  consider  and  satisfy  our- 
selves, in  his  pleasure,  purposes,  and  ends,  more  than  our 
own,  apart  from  his. 


'  Such  as  he  hath  pardoned,  accepted  and  prepared  for 
himself,  are  to  serve  and  glorify  him  in  a  higher  and 
more  excellent  capacity,  than  they  ever  could  in  this 
wretched  world  of  ours,  and  wherein  they  have  them- 
selves the  highest  satisfaction.  When  the  blessed  God 
is  pleased  in  having  attained  and  accomplished  the  end 
and  intendments  of  his  own  boundless  love,  (too  great 
to  be  satisfied  with  the  conferring  of  only  temporary 
favours  in  this  imperfect  state,)  and  they  are  pleased  in 
partaking  the  full  effects  of  that  love  ;  who  are  we,  that 
we  should  be  displeased  1  or  that  we  should  oppose  our 
satisfaction,  to  that  of  the  glorious  God,  and  his  glori- 
fied creature  1  Therefore,  madam,  whereas  you  cannot 
avoid  to  think  much  on  this  subject,  and  to  have  the 
removal  of  that  incomparable  person  for  a  great  theme 
of  your  thoughts,  I  do  only  propose  most  humbly  to 
your  honour,  that  you  would  not  confine  them  to  the 
sadder  and  darker  part  of  that  theme.  It  hath  also  a 
bright  side  ;  and  it  equally  belongs  to  it,  to  consider 
whither  he  is  gone,  and  to  whom,  as  whence,  and  from 
whom.  Let,  I  beseech  you,  your  mind  be  more  exer- 
cised in  contemplating  the  glories  of  that  state  your 
blessed  consort  is  translated  unto,  which  will  mingle 
pleasure  and  sweetness  with  the  bitterness  of  your 
afflicting  loss,  by  giving  you  a  daily  intellectual  parti- 
cipation (through  the  exercise  of  faith  and  hope)  in  his 
enjoyments.  He  cannot  descend  to  share  with  you  in 
your  sorrows  ;  you  may  thus  every  day  ascend  and 
partake  with  him  in  his  joys.  He  is  a  pleasant  sub- 
ject to  consider.  A  prepared  spirit  made  meet  for  an 
inheritance  with  them  that  are  sanctified,  and  with  the 
saints  in  light,  now  entered  into  a  state  so  con-natural, 
and  wherein  it  finds  every  thing  most  agreeable  to  itself. 
How  highly  grateful  is  it  to  be  imited  with  the  true  cen- 
tre, and  come  home  to  the  Father  of  spirits  !  To  consider 
how  pleasant  a  welcome,  how  joyful  an  entertainment  he 
hath  met  with  above !  how  delighted  an  a.'^sociate  he  is 
with  the  general  assembly,  the  innumerable  company  of 
angels,  and  the  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect !  how 
joyful  an  homage  he  continuall}'  pays  to  the  throne  of  the 
celestial  King ! 

'  Will  your  ladyship  think  that  a  hard  saying  of  our 
departing  Lord  to  his  mournful  disciples.  If  ye  loved 
me,  ye  would  rejoice,  that  I  said  I  go  to  the  Father ; 
for  my  Father  is  greater  than  I "?  As  if  he  had  said,  he 
sits  enthroned  in  higher  glory  than  j'ou  can  frame  any 
conception  of,  by  beholding  me  in  so  mean  a  condition 
on  earth.  We  are  as  remote,  and  as  much  short  in  our 
thoughts  as  to  the  conceiving  the  glorj'  of  the  Supreme 
Kins:,  as  a  peasant,  who  never  saw  any  thing  better 
than  his  own  cottage,  from  conceiving  the  splendour 
of  the  most  glorious  prince's  court.  But  if  that  faith, 
which  is  the  substance  of  things  hoped  for,  and  ihe 
evidence  of  things  not  seen,  be  much  accustomed  to  its 
proper  work  and  business,  the  dail}'  delightful  visiting 
and  viewing  the  glorious  invisible  regions ;  if  it  be 
often  conversant  in  those  vast  and  spacious  tracts  of 
pure  and  brightest  light,  and  amongst  the  holy  inhabit- 
ants that  replenish  them ;  if  it  frequently  employ  itself 
in  contemplating  their  cornel}'  order,  perfect  harmony, 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE 


sublime  wisdom,  unspotted  purit.y,  most  fervent  mutual 
love,  delicious  conversation  with  one  another,  and  per- 
petual pleasant  consent  in  their  adoration  and  observ- 
ance of  their  eternal  King !  who  is  there  to  whom  it 
would  not  be  a  solr>;e  to  think,  I  have  such  and  such 
friends  and  relatives  (some  perhaps  as  dear  as  my  own 
life)  perfeclly  well  pleased,  and  happy  among  them  1 
How  can  your  love,  madam,  (so  generous  a  love  towards 
so  deserving  an  object !)  how  can  it  but  more  fervently 
sparkle  in  joy,  for  his  sake,  than  dissolve  in  tears  for 
your  own  1 

'  Nor  should  such  thoughts  excite  over-hasty  impatient 
desires  of  following  presently  into  heaven,  but  to  the 
endeavours  of  serving  God  more  cheerfully  on  earth, 
for  our  appointed  time :  which  I  earnestly  desire  your 
ladyship  would  apply  yourself  to,  as  you  would  not 
displease  God,  who  it  your  only  hope,  nor  be  cruel  to 
yourself,  nor  dishonour  the  religion  of  Christians,  as  if 
ihey  had  no  other  consolations  than  this  earth  can  give, 
and  earthly  power  take  from  them.  Your  ladyship  (if 
any  one)  would  be  loth  to  do  any  thing  unworthy  your 
family  and  parentage.  Your  highest  alliance  is  to  that 
Father  and  family  above,  whose  dignity  and  honour  are 
I  doubt  not  of  highest  account  with  you. 

'  I  multiply  words,  being  loth  to  lose  my  designs. 
And  shall  only  add  that  consideration,  which  cannot 
but  be  valuable  with  you,  upon  his  first  proposal,  who 
had  all  the  advantages  imaginable  to  give  it  its  full 
weight ;  I  mean,  that  of  those  dear  pledges  left  behind  : 
my  own  heart  even  bleeds  to  think  of  the  case  of  those 
sweet  babes,  should  they  be  bereaved  of  their  other 
parent  too.  And  even  your  continued  visible  dejection 
would  be  their  unspeakable  disadvantage.  You  will 
alwa3's  naturally  create  in  them  a  reverence  of  3'^ou ; 
and  I  cannot  but  apprehend  how  the  constant  mean 
aspect  and  deportment  of  such  a  parent  will  insensibly 
influence  the  temper  of  dutiful  children  ;  and  (if  that 
be  sad  and  despondent)  depress  their  spirits,  blunt  and 
take  off  the  edge  and  quickness,  upon  which  their  fu- 
ture usefulness  and  comfort  will  much  depend.  Were 
it  possible  their  (now  glorious)  father  should  visit  and 
inspect  you,  would  you  not  be  troubled  to  behold  a 
frown  in  that  bright  serene  face  1  You  are  to  please  a 
more  penetrating  eye,  which  you  will  best  do,  by  put- 
tmg  on  a  temper  and  deportment  suitable  to  your 
weighty  charge  and  duty,  and  to  the  great  purposes 
for  which  God  continues  you  in  the  world,  by  giving 
over  unnecessary  solitude  and  retirement,  which  (though 
it  pleases)  doth  really  prejudice  you,  and  is  more  than 
you  can  bear.  Nor  can  any  rules  of  decency  require 
more.  Nothing  that  is  necessary  and  truly  Christian, 
ought  to  be  reckoned  unbecoming.  David's  example, 
2  Sam.  xii.  20.  is  of  too  great  authority  to  be  counted 
a  pattern  of  indecency.  The  God  of  heaven  lift  up  the 
light  of  his  countenance  upon  you,  and  thereby  put 
gladness  into  your  heart ;  and  give  you  to  apprehend 
him  saying  to  you.  Arise  and  walk  in  the  light  of  the 
Lord. 


i  History  of  his  ovm  Times,  vol.  i.  page  388. 

k  See  the  Life  of  Mr.  Kettlewell,  in  8vo.  page  58. 


'  That  I  have  used  so  much  freedom  in  this  paper,  I 
make  no  apology  for  ;  but  do  therefore  hide  myself  m 
the  dark,  not  judging  it  consistent  with  that  plainness 
which  I  thought  the  case  might  require,  to  give  any 
other  account  of  myself,  than  that  I  am  one  deeply 
sensible  of  your  and  your  noble  relatives'  great  afflic- 
tion, and  who  scarce  ever  bow  the  knee  before  the 
mercy-seat  without  remembering  it :  and  who  shall 
ever  be, 

Madam, 
Your  ladyship's 

Most  sincere  honourer,  and 

Most  humble  devoted  servant,' 

Though  Mr.  Howe  did  not  put  his  name  to  this  his 
consolatory  epistle,  yet  the  style,  and  several  particu- 
larities in  it,  soon  discovered  who  was  the  author.  The 
lady  sent  him  a  letter  of  thanks,  and  told  him  that  he 
must  not  expect  to  remain  concealed.  She  promised  to 
endeavour  to  follow  the  advice  he  had  given  her,  and 
often  wrote  to  him  afterwards,  some  of  which  letters  I 
have  seen  and  read,  and  they  show  that  his  freedom  was 
taken  kindly,  and  his  pains  well  bestowed. 

'Tis  observed  by  Bishop  Burnet,i  concerning  this 
excellent  person  the  Lord  Russell,  who  died  a  martyr 
for  the  liberties  of  his  country,  that  he  was  a  man  of 
great  candour,  and  of  a  general  reputation,  universally 
beloved  and  trusted,  of  a  generous  and  obliging  temper. 
He  had  given  such  proofs  of  an  undaunted  courage, 
and  of  an  unshaken  firmness,  that  the  Bishop  says,  he 
never  knew  any  man  have  so  entire  a  credit  in  the 
nation  as  he  had.  He  adds,  that  he  had  from  his  first 
education  an  inclination  to  favour  the  nonconformists, 
and  wished  the  laws  could  have  been  made  eeisier  to 
them.  On  the  other  hand,  the  high  party  represented 
him  as  one  that  had  no  very  favourable  opinion  of  the 
English  clergy  in  general,  as  thinking  them  for  the 
most  part  a  set  of  men  too  much  bigoted  to  slavish 
principles,  and  not  zealous  enough  for  the  protestant 
religion,  or  the  common  interest  of  a  free  nation. k  'Tis 
hoped,  that  the  remaining  branches  of  that  noble 
family  will  adhere  to  his  principles,  and  imitate  his 
glorious  example. 

I  go  on  to  the  year  1G84,  in  which  Mr.  Howe  pub- 
lished a  treatise,  on  Luke  xix.  41,  42.  entitled,  '  The  Re- 
deemer's Tears  wept  over  Lost  Souls ;  with  an  Appendix,, 
where  somewhat  is  occasionally  discoursed,  concerning, 
the  Blasphemy  against  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  how  God 
is  said  to  will  the  salvation  of  them  that  perish.' 

Bishop  Burnet  owns,  that  the  prosecution  of  the  dis- 
senters was  carried  very  high  all  this  year.  They  were 
not  only  proceeded  against  for  going  to  conventicles, 
as  he  is  pleased  to  call  their  private  meetings  for  the 
worship  of  God,  but  for  not  going  to  church,  and  for 
not  receiving  the  sacrament.  The  laws  made  against 
papists,  with  relation  to  those  particulars,  being  now  ap- 
plied to  them.  Many  were  excommunicated  and  ruined 
by  these  prosecutions.) 

I  Bishop  Bumet's  History  of  his  own  Times,  vol.  i.  page  591. 


THE  LIFE  OP  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


XitU 


Among  other  warm  things  which  at  that  time  came 
from  the  press,  there  was  a  letter  published  by  Bishop 
Barlow  of  Lincoln,  for  the  putting  in  execution  the 
laws  against  the  dissenters:  and  this  was  written  in 
concurrence  with  that  whi:h  was  drawn  up  by  the 
justices  of  the  peace  of  the  county  of  Bedford,  bear- 
ing date  Jan.  14th,  1684.  In  answer  to  this  warm 
and  angry  printed  letter  of  the  Bishop  of  Lincoln, 
Mr.  Howe  sent  his  lordship  a  free  letter  by  the 
post,  a  copy  whereof  has  been  preserved,  and  here 
foJlows. 

'  Right  Reverend, 

'As  I  must  confess  myself  surprised  by  your  late 
published  directions  to  your  clergy  of  the  coimty  of 
Bedford,  so  nor  will  I  dissemble,  that  I  did  read  them 
with  some  trouble  of  mind,  which  I  sincerely  profess 
was  more  upon  your  lordship's  accormt  than  my  own, 
(who  for  myself  am  little  concerned,)  or  any  other  par- 
ticular person's  whatsoever.  It  was  such  as  it  had  not 
been  veiy  difficult  for  me  to  have  concealed  in  my 
own  breast,  or  only  to  have  expressed  it  to  God 
in  my  prayers  for  you,  (which  through  his  grace  I 
have  not  altogether  omitted  to  do,)  if  I  had  not 
apprehended  it  not  utterly  impossible,  (as  I  trust  I 
miight,  without  arrogating  unduly  to  myself,)  that 
some  or  other  of  those  thoughts,  which  I  have  revolv- 
ed in  my  own  mind  upon  this  occasion,  being  only 
hinted  to  your  lordship,  might  appear  to  your  very 
sagacious  judgment  (for  which  I  have  had  long, 
and  have  still,  a  continuing  veneration)  some  way 
capable  of  being  cultivated  by  your  o-mi  mature  and 
second  thoughts,  so  as  not  to  be  wholly  unuseful  to 
your  lordship. 

'My  own  judgment,  such  as  it  is,  inclines  me  not  to 
oppose  any  thing,  either,  1.  To  the  lawfulness  of  the 
things  themselves  which  you  so  much  desire  should 
obtain  in  the  practice  of  the  people  under  your  lord- 
ship's pastoral  inspection :  or,  2.  To  the  desirable  come- 
liness of  an  uniformity  in  the  public  and  solemn  wor- 
ship of  God:  or,  3.  To  the  fitness  of  making  laws  for 
the  effecting  of  such  uniformity:  or,  4.  To  the  execu- 
tion of  such  laws,  upon  some  such  person  as  may  pos- 
sibly be  found  among  so  numerous  a  people  as  are  under 
your  lordship's  care. 

'But  the  things  which  I  humbly  conceive  are  to  be 
deliberated  on,  are,  1.  Whether  all  the  laws  that  are  in 
being  about  matters  of  that  nature,  ought  now  to  be 
executed  upon  all  the  persons  which  any  way  transgress 
them,  without  distinction  of  either "?  2.  Whether  it  was 
so  well,  that  your  lordship  should  advise  and  press  that 
indistinct  execution,  which  the  order  (to  which  the 
subjoined  directions  of  your  lordship  do  succenturiate) 
seems  to  intend;  supposing  that  designed  execution 
were  fit  in  itself 

'I  shall  not  need  to  speak  severally  to  these  heads: 
your  lordship  will  sufficiently  distinguish  what  is  ap- 
plicable the  one  way  or  the  other.  But  I  humbly  offer 
to  your  lordship's  further  consideration,  whether  it  be 
not  a  supposable  thing,  that  some  persons  found  in  the 


faith,  strictly  orthodox  in  all  the  articles  of  it  taught 
by  our  Lord  Jesus  or  his  apostles,  resolvedly  loyal,  and 
subject  to  the  authority  of  their  governors  m  church  and 
state,  of  pious,  sober,  peaceable,  just,  charitable  dispo- 
sitions and  deportments,  may  yet  (while  they  agree 
with  your  lordship  in  that  evident  principle,  both  by 
the  law  of  nature  and  Scripture,  that  their  prince  and 
inferior  rulers  ought  to  be  actively  obeyed  in  all  lawful 
things)  have  a  formed  fixed  judgment  (for  what  were  to 
be  done  in  the  case  of  a  mere  doubt,  that  hath  not  arrived 
to  a  settled  preponderation  this  way  or  that,  is  not  hard 
to  determine)  of  the  unlawfulness  of  some  or  other  of 
the  rites  and  modes  of  worship  enjoined  to  be  observed 
in  this  church  1  For  my  o^mi  part,  though  perhaps  I 
should  not  be  found  to  differ  much  from  your  lordship 
in  most  of  the  things  here  referred  unto,  I  do  yet  think 
that  few  metaph3'sical  questions  are  disputed  with  nicer 
subtlety,  than  the  matter  of  the  ceremonies  has  been  by 
Archbishop  Whitgift,  Cartwright,  Hooker,  Parker,  Dr. 
Burgess,  Dr.  Ames,  Gillespy,  Jeanes,  Calderwood,  Dr. 
Owen,  Baxter,  &c.  Now,  is  it  impossible  that  a  sincere 
and  sober  Christian  may,  with  an  honest  heart,  have  so 
weak  intellectuals,  as  not  to  be  able  to  understand  all 
the  punctilios  upon  which  a  right  judgment  of  such  a 
matter  may  depend  1  And  is  it  not  possible  there  may  be 
such  a  thing,  as  a  mental  as  well  as  a  merely  sensitive 
antipathy,  not  vincible  by  ordinary  methods'?  Is  there 
no  difference  to  be  put  between  things  essential  to  our 
religion,  and  things  confessed  indifferent  on  the  one 
hand,  and  on  the  other  judged  imlawful;  on  both 
hands  but  accidental!  (though  they  that  think  them 
unlawful,  daxf,  not  allow  themselves  a  liberty  of  sin- 
ning, even  in  accidentals.)  If  your  lordship  were  the 
paterfamilias  to  a  numerous  family  of  children  and 
servants,  among  whom  one  or  other  very  dutiful 
child  takes  offence,  not  at  the  sort  of  food  you  have 
thought  fit  should  be  provided,  but  somewhat  in  the 
sauce  or  way  of  dressing,  which  thereupon  he  for- 
bears; you  try  all  the  means  which  j'our  paternal 
wisdom  and  severity  thinks  fit,  to  overcome  that  aver- 
sion, but  in  vain;  would  you  finally  famish  this  child, 
rather  than  yield  to  his  inclination  in  so  small  a 
thing  1 

'  My  lord,  your  lordship  well  knows  the  severity  of 
some  of  those  laws  which  you  press  for  the  execution 
of  is  such,  as  being  executed,  they  must  infer  the  utter 
ruiu  of  them  who  observe  them  not,  in  their  temporal 
concernment;  and  not  that  only,  but  their  deprivation 
of  the  comfortable  advantages  appointed  by  our  blessed 
Lord,  for  promoting  their  spiritual  and  eternal  well- 
being.  I  cannot  but  be  well  persuaded  not  only  of  the 
mere  sincerity,  but  eminent  sanctity  of  divers,  upon 
my  own  knowledge  and  experience  of  them,  who  would 
sooner  die  at  a  stake,  than  I  or  any  man  can  prevail 
with  them  (notwithstanding  our  rubric,  or  whatever 
can  be  said  to  facilitate  the  matter)  to  kneel  before  the 
consecrated  elements  at  the  Lord's  table.  Would  your 
lordship  necessitate  such,  perdere  suhstantiam  propter 
accidentia?  What  if  there  be  considerable  numbers  of 
such  in  your  lordship's  vastly  numerous  flock;   will  it 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


be  comfortable  to  you,  when  an  account  is  demanded 
of  your  lordship  by  the  great  Shepherd  and  Bishop  of 
souls  concerning  them,  only  to  be  able  to  say,  Though, 
Lord,  I  did  believe  the  provisions  of  thine  house  pur- 
chased for  them,  necessary  and  highly  useful  for  their 
salvation,  I  drove  them  away  as  dogs  and  swine  from 
thy  table,  and  stirred  up  such  other  agents  as  I  could 
influence  against  them,  by  whose  means  I  reduced 
many  of  them  to  beggary,  ruined  many  families, 
banished  them  into  strange  countries,  where  they  might 
(for  me)  serve  other  gods;  and  this  not  for  disobeying 
any  immediate  ordinance  or  law  of  thine,  but  because 
for  fear  of  offending  thee,  they  did  not  in  every  thing 
comport  with  my  own  appointments,  or  which  I  was 
directed  to  urge  and  impose  upon  theml  How  well 
would  this  practice  afree  with  that  apostolical  precept. 
Him  thnt  is  weak  in  the  faith  receive,  but  not  to  doubt- 
ful disputations'?  I  know  not  how  your  lordship  would 
relieve  yourself  in  this  case,  but  by  saying  they  were 
not  weak,  nor  conscientious,  but  wilful  and  humoursome. 
But  what  shall  then  be  said  to  the  subjoined  expostu- 
lation, Who  art  thou  that  judgest  thy  brother  1  we  shall 
all  stand  before  the  judgment-seat  of  Christ.  What 
if  they  have  appeared  conscientious,  and  of  a  very 
tmblameable  conversation  in  all  things  else?  What  if 
better  qualified  for  Christian  communion  in  all  other 
respects,  than  thousands  you  admitted  1  If  you  say  you 
know  of  none  such  under  your  charge  so  severely  dealt 
with,  it  will  be  said.  Why  did  you  use  such  severity 
toward  them  you  did  not  knowl  or  urge  and  animate 
them  to  use  it,  whom  you  knew  never  likely  to  distin- 
guish 1  A  ■'^ery  noted  divine  of  the  Church  of  England 
said  to  me  in  discourse  not  very  long  ago,  upon  mention 
of  tne  ceremonies.  Come,  come,  the  Christian  church 
and  religion  is  in  a  consumption;  and  it  ought  to  be 
done  as  in  the  case  of  consumptive  persons,  shave  off 
the  hair  to  save  the  life.  Another  (a  dignified  person) 
present,  replied,  1  doubt  not  it  will  be  so,  in  the  Phila- 
delphian  state.  I  long  thought  few  had  been  in  the 
temper  of  their  minds  nearer  it  than  your  lordship,  and 
am  grieved,  not  that  I  so  judged,  but  that  I  am  mis- 
taken; and  to  see  your  lordship  the  first  public  example 
to  the  rest  of  your  order  in  such  a  course.  Blessed 
Lord !  how  strange  is  it  that  so  long  experience  will 
not  let  us  see,  that  little,  and  so  very  disputable  matters, 
can  never  be  the  terms  of  union  so  much  to  be  desired 
in  the  Christian  church;  and  that  in  such  a  case  as 
ours  is,  nothing  will  satisfy,  but  the  destruction  of 
them,  whose  union  upon  so  nice  terms  we  cannot  ob- 
tain ;  and  then  to  call  sulitMdinem,  pacem !  But  we 
must,  it  seems,  understand  all  this  rigour  your  lordship 
shows,  to  proceed  from  love,  and  that  you  are  for  de- 
stroying the  dissenters,  only  to  mend  their  understand- 
ings, and  because  afflidio  dat  intellectum.  I  hope 
indeed  God  will  sanctify  the  affliction  which  you  give 
and    procure  them,  to  blessed  purposes;    and  perhaps 


m  The  Complete  History  of  England,  vol.  iii.  paffe  393.  tells  us,  that  the 
Coininons,  in  1690,  prepared  a  bill  for  exempting  his  majesty's  protestant  .sub- 
jects, dissenting  from  the  church  of  England,  from  the  penalties  imposed  upon 
tlie  papists,  by  repealin?  the  act  of  HB  Eliz.  This  bill  passed  the  Commons, 
and  was  agreed  to  by  ihe  Lords,  and  lay  ready  for  liis  majesty's  assent.    But 


periissent  nisi  pentssent :  but  for  the  purposes  your 
lordship  seems  to  aim  at,  I  wonder  what  you  can  ex- 
pect. Can  you,  by  undoing  men,  change  the  judgment 
of  their  consciences  1  or  if  they  should  tell  you.  We  do 
indeed  in  our  consciences  judge,  we  shall  greatly  offend 
God  by  complying  with  your  injunctions,  but  yet  to 
save  being  undone,  we  will  do  it ;  will  this  qualify 
them  for  your  communion  1  If  your  lordship  think  still, 
you  have  judged  and  advised  well  in  this  matter,  you 
have  the  judgment  of  our  sovereign,  upon  twelve  years' 
experience,  lying  against  you:  you  have  as  to  one  of 
the  laws  you  would  have  executed,  the  judgment  of 
both  houses  of  parliament  against  you,  who  passed  a 
bill  (to  which  perhaps  you  consented)  for  taking  it 
away.m  You  have  (as  to  all  of  them)  the  judgment  of 
the  last  House  of  Commons  sitting  at  Westminster,  so 
far  as  to  the  season  then,  of  executing  those  laws.  It 
may  be  your  lordship  thinks  it  now  a  fitter  season :  but 
if  you  have  misjudged,  or  misdone  against  your  judg- 
ment, I  pray  God  to  rectify  your  error  by  gentler 
methods,  and  by  less  affliction,  than  you  have  designed 
to  your  brethren:  and  do  not  for  all  this  doubt,  (any 
more  for  your  part  than  my  own,)  to  meet  you  there  one 
day,  where  Luther  and  Zuinglius  are  well  agreed.  If 
I  did  think  that  would  contribute  any  thing  to  the 
honest  and  truly  charitable  design  of  this  letter,  I 
should  freely  and  at  large  tell  you  my  name:  and  do 
however  tell  you,  I  am, 

A  sincere  honourer  of  your  lordship. 

And  your  very  faithful,  humble  servant.' 

What  effects  this  letter  might  have  I  know  not,  but 
I  must  confess  I  think  it  to  have  been  very  strong  and 
moving,  and  likely  to  make  impression. 

In  1685,  the  dissenters  were  run  down  universally, 
and  hardly  any  one  durst  speak  or  write  in  their  favour ; 
and  the  prospects  people  had  with  respect  to  the  public, 
grew  every  day  more  and  more  gloomy.  Mr.  Howe 
therefore  having  an  invitation  given  him  by  the  Lord 
Wharton  to  travel  with  him  abroad,  into  foreign  parts, 
accepted  it  readily.  He  had  so  little  time  given  him 
to  prepare  for  his  voyage,  which  he  entered  upon  in  the 
month  of  August  this  year,  that  he  had  not  an  oppor- 
tunity of  taking  leave  of  his  friends,  but  sent  a  letter 
to  them  from  the  other  side  the  water,  which  was  thus 
directed. 

'  To  such,  in  and  about  London,   among  whom   I  have 

laboured  in  the  work  of  the  Gospel.'  It  here  follows. 
'My  most  dearly  beloved  in  our  blessed  Lord  and  Sa- 
viour Jesus  Christ,  grace,  mercy,  and  peace  be  through 
him  multiplied  unto  you. 
'  That  I  am  at  this  time  at  this  distance  from  you,  is,  I 
am  persuaded,  (upon  the  experience  I  have  had  of  your 
great  love  and  value  of  my  poor  labours,)  not  pleasant 
to  you,  and  I  do  assure  you  it  is  grievous  to  me,  though 


when  his  majesty  came  to  the  throne,  to  pass  this  among  other  bills,  this  was 
taken  from  the  table,  and  never  heard  of  after.  Which  no  man  durst  have  done, 
without  the  king's  command,  or  at  least  liis  privityand  conni^'ance  at  it.  The 
loss  of  this  bill  was  complained  of  in  the  next  parliament  at  Oxford,  but  With- 
out satisfaction  or  redress. 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


xir 


I  murmur  not  at  the  wise  and  holy  Providence  that 
hath  ordered  things  thus,  in  reference  to  you  and  me: 
but  it  added  to  my  trouble,  that  I  could  not  so  much  as 
Did  farewell  to  persons  to  whom  I  had  so  great  endear- 
ments, the  solemnity  whereof  you  know  our  circum- 
stances would  not  admit.  Nor  could  I  have  opportu- 
nity to  communicate  to  you  the  grounds  of  my  taking 
this  long  journey,  being  under  promise  while  the  mat- 
ter was  under  consideration,  not  to  speak  of  it  to  any 
one  that  was  not  concerned  immediately  about  it: 
neither  could  I  think  that  imprudent  in  itself,  where 
acquaintance  was  so  numerous ;  silence  towards  dearest 
friends  in  such  cases  usually  being  designed  for  an 
apology  to  all  others.  And  after  the  resolution  was 
taken,  my  motion  depending  on  another,  I  had  not 
time  for  that,  or  any  such  purposes.  And  should  I  yet 
communicate  them,  as  they  lie  particularly  in  my  own 
thoughts,  it  would  lose  time  that  I  may  more  profitably 
employ,  for  both  you  and  myself,  while  I  do  it  not. 
You  will,  I  may  be  confident,  be  more  prudent  and 
equal,  than  to  judge  of  what  you  do  not  know :  but  so 
much  I  shall  in  the  general  say,  that  the  providence  of 
God  gave  me  the  prospect  of  a  present  quiet  abode, 
with  some  opportunity  of  being  serviceable;  (and  I 
hope,  as  it  may  prove  through  his  help  and  blessing, 
unto  you,  if  I  have  life  and  health  to  finish  what  I 
have  been  much  pressed  by  some  of  yourselves  to  go  on 
with;)  which  opportunity  I  could  not  hope  to  have 
nearer  you,  at  least  without  being  imreasonably  bur- 
densome to  some,  while  I  was  designing  service  as 
much  as  in  me  lay  to  all.  It  much  satisfies  me  that  I 
have  a  record  above,  I  am  not  designing  for  myself; 
that  he  who  knoweth  all  things,  knows  I  love  not  this 
present  world,  and  I  covet  not  an  abode  in  it,  (nor  have 
I  when  it  was  most  friendly  to  me,)  upon  any  other  ac- 
count, than  upon  doing  some  service  to  him,  and  the 
souls  of  men.  It  therefore  has  been  my  settled  habi- 
tual sense  and  sentiment  a  long  time,  to  value  and  de- 
sire (with  submission  to  sovereign  good  pleasure)  peace 
and  quiet,  with  some  tolerable  health,  more  than  life. 
Nor  have  I  found  any  thing  more  destructive  to  my 
health,  than  confinement  to  a  room  a  few  days  in  the 
city  air,  which  was  much  better  and  more  healthful  to 
me  formerly,  than  since  the  anger  and  jealousies  of 
such  as  I  never  had  a  disposition  to  offend,  have  of 
later  times  occasioned  persons  of  my  circumstances  very 
seldom  to  walk  the  streets. 

'  But  my  hope  is,  God  will  in  his  good  time  incline 
the  hearts  of  rulers  more  to  favour  such  as  cannot  be 
satisfied  with  the  public  constitutions  in  the  matters  of 
God's  worship,  and  that  are  innocent  and  peaceable  in 
the  land ;  and  that  my  absence  from  you  will  be  for  no 
long  time,  it  being  my  design,  with  dependence  upon 
his  gracious  providence  and  pleasure,  in  whose  hands 
our  times  are,  if  I  hear  of  anj'  door  open  for  service 
with  you,  to  spend  the  health  and  strength  which  God 
shall  vouchsafe  me,  (and  which  I  find  through  lus 
mercy  much  improved  since  I  left  3'ou,)  in  his  work 
with  and  among  you.  In  the  mean  time,  I  believe  it 
will  not  be  unacceptable  to  you,  that  I  offer  you  some 


of  my  thoughts  and  counsels,  for  your  pre.sent  help, 
such  as  are  not  new  to  me,  nor  as  you  will  find  to  )'our- 
selves,  who  are  my  witnesses,  that  I  have  often  incul- 
cated such  things  to  you;  but  they  may  be  useful  to 
stir  you  up,  by  putting  you  in  remembrance. 

'I.  I  beseech  you,  more  earnestly  endeavour  to  re- 
duce the  things  you  know  (and  have  been  by  many 
hands  instructed  in  out  of  the  Gospel  of  our  Lord)  to 
practice.  IS'othing  can  be  more  absurd  than  to  content 
ourselves  with  only  a  notional  knowledge  of  practical 
matters.  We  should  think  so  in  other  cases.  As  if 
any  man  should  satisfy  himself  to  know  the  use  of 
food,  but  famish  himself  by  never  eating  any,  when  he 
hath  it  at  hand:  or  that  he  understands  the  virtues  of 
this  or  that  cordial,  but  languishes  away  to  death  in  the 
neglect  of  using  it,  when  it  might  cheer  his  spirits,  and 
save  his  life.  And  the  neglect  of  applying  the  great 
things  of  the  Gospel  to  the  proper  uses  and  purposes  of 
the  Christian  life,  is  not  more  foolish,  (only  as  the  con- 
cernments they  serve  for  are  more  important,)  but  much 
more  sinful  and  provoking  to  God.  For  we  are  to  con- 
sider whence  the  revelation  comes.  They  are  things 
which  the  mouth  of  the  Lord  hath  spoken;  uttered  by 
the  breath  of  the  eternal  God,  as  all  Scriptures  are  said 
to  be.  God  breathed,  as  that  expression  may  be  liter- 
ally rendered,  2  Tim.  iii.  16.  And  how  high  a  con- 
tempt and  provocation  is  it  of  the  great  God,  so  totally 
to  pervert  and  disappoint  the  whole  design  of  that  re- 
velation he  hath  made  to  us,  to  know  the  great  things 
contained  therein,  only  for  knowing  sake,  which  he 
hath  made  known  that  we  might  live  by  them.  And* 
oh  what  holy  and  pleasant  lives  should  we  lead  in  this 
world,  if  the  temper  and  complexion  of  our  souls  did 
answer  and  correspond  to  the  things  Ave  knoin'.  The 
design  of  preaching  has  been  greatly  mistaken,  when 
it  has  been  thought,  it  must  still  acquaint  them  who 
live  (and  especially  who  have  long  lived)  under  it, 
with  some  new  thing.  Its  much  greater  and  more  im- 
portant design  is  the  impressing  of  known  things  (but 
too  little  considered)  upon  the  hearts  of  hearers,  that 
they  may  be  delivered  up  into  the  mould  and  form  of 
the  doctrine  taught  them,  as  Rom.  vi.  12. :  and  may  so 
learn  Christ  as  more  and  more  to  be  renewed  in  the 
spirit  of  their  minds,  and  put  off  the  old  man  and  put 
on  the  new,  Eph.  iv.  20.  The  digesting  our  food  is 
what  God  now  eminentl)'^  calls  for. 

'  II.  More  particularlj'  labour  to  have  your  apprehen- 
sions of  the  future  state  of  the  xmseen  world,  and  eter- 
nal things,  made  more  lively  and  efficacious  daily,  emd 
that  joMT  faith  of  them  may  be  such  as  may  truly  ad- 
mit to  be  called  the  very  substance  and  evidence  of 
those  things.  Shall  that  glorious  everlasting  state  of 
things  be  always  as  a  dark  shadow  with  us,  or  as  the 
images  we  have  of  things  in  a  dream,  ineffectual  and 
vanishing,  only  because  we  have  not  seen  with  our 
eyes,  where  God  himself  hath  by  his  express  word 
made  the  representations  of  them  to  us,  who  never  de- 
ceived us,  as  oxir  own  eyes  and  treacherous  senses  have 
done1  Why  do  we  not  live  as  just  now  entering  into 
the  eternal  state,  and  as  if  we  now  beheld  the  glorious 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


appearing  of  ihe  great  God  our  Saviour,  when  we  are 
as  much,  assured  of  them  as  if  we  beheld  them  1  Why 
do  we  not  oftener  view  the  representation  of  the  heavens 
vanishing,  the  elements  melting,  the  earth  flaming,  the 
angels  every  where  dispersed  to  gather  the  elect,  and 
them  ascending,  caught  up  to  meet  the  Redeemer  in 
the  air,  ever  to  be  with  the  Lordl  What  a  trifle  will 
the  world  be  to  us  then ! 

'III.  Let  the  doctrine  of  the  Redeemer  be  more 
studied,  and  of  his  mighty  undertaking,  with  the  im- 
mediate design  of  it,  not  merely  to  satisfy  for  sin  by 
the  sacrifice  he  once  for  all  made  of  himself,  and  so  to 
procure  our  pardon  and  justification,  without  effecting 
any  thing  upon  us,  but  to  redeem  us  from  all  iniquity, 
to  purify  us  to  himself,  &c.  and  to  form  us  after  his 
own  holy  likeness,  and  for  such  purposes  to  give  his 
Holy  Spirit  to  us.  Consider  that  our  Redeemer  is 
mighty,  who  hath  such  kind  designs  upon  us^  and  that 
as  they  shall  not  therefore  fijially  fail  of  accomplish- 
ment, so  will  they  be  carried  on  without  interruption, 
and  with  discernible  success,  if  we  fail  not  as  to  what 
pert  in  subordination  to  him  belongs  to  us.  How 
cheerfully  should  the  redeemed  of  the  Lord  go  on  in 
their  course,  under  such  conduct ! 

'IV.  Endeavour  your  faith  may  be  stronger,  more 
efficacious  and  practical,  concerning  the  doctrine  of 
Providence,  and  that  the  workings  and  events  of  it  lie 
all  under  the  management  and  in  the  hand  of  the  Re- 
deemer, who  is  head  over  all  things  to  the  church :  that 
therefore  how  grievous  and  bitter  soever  be  his  people's 
lot  and  portion  at  any  time,  there  cannot  but  be  kind- 
ness at  the  bottom;  and  that  not  only  designing  the 
best  end,  but  taking  the  fittest  way  to  it.  For  can  love 
itself  be  unkind,  so  as  not  to  design  well!  or  wisdom 
itself  err  so,  as  to  take  an  improper  course  in  order 
thereto!  Hereupon  let  not  your  spirits  be  imbittered 
by  tlie  present  dispensation  of  Providence  you  are 
under,  whereby  you  are  in  so  great  a  part  deprived  of 
the  helps  and  means  of  your  spiritual  advantage,  which 
you  like  and  relish  most.     And  to  this  purpose  consider, 

'  1.  Our  wise  and  merciful  Lord  (though  perhaps 
such  means  might  be  in  some  measure  useful  to  us) 
doth  for  th€  present  judge,  that  his  rebuking  our  undue 
use  of  them  will  be  more  useful ;  either  overvaluing  or 
undervaluing  his  instruments,  turning  his  ordinances 
into  mere  formalities,  preferring  the  means  of  grace 
{as  they  are  fitly  called)  before  the  end,  grace  itself 

'2.  Consider  whether  there  be  no  disposition  of  Spi- 
rit, to  treat  others  as  you  are  treated.  The  inward 
temper  of  our  minds  and  spirits  is  so  much  the  more 
narrowly  to  be  inspected,  by  how  much  the  less  there 
is  opportunity  to  discover  it  by  outward  acts.  As  to 
such  as  differ  from  us  about  the  forms  and  ceremonies 
that  are  now  required  in  the  worship  of  God,  would 
we  not  be  glad  if  they  were  as  much  restrained  from 
using  them  in  their  worship,  as  we  from  worshipping 
without  them?  And  do  not  we  think  that  that  would 
&n  much  grieve  them,  as  our  restraint  doth  us"?  And 
why  should  we  suppose  that  their  way  should  not  as 
much  suit  their  spirits,  and.  be  as  grateful  to  them,  as 


ours  to  usl  But  we  are  in  the  right  way,  some  will 
say,  and  they  in  the  wrong :  and  why  cannot  any  man 
say  the  same  thing  with  as  much  confidence  as  we'i 
Or  do  we  think  there  is  no  difference  to  be  put  betweei. 
controversies  about  matter  of  circumstance,  and  about 
the  essentials  of  Christianity'?  Undoubtedly  till  those 
that  affect  the  name  of  the  reformed,  and  count  it  more 
their  glory  to  be  called  protestants  than  to  be  good 
Christians,  have  learnt  to  mingle  more  justice  with 
their  religion,  and  how  better  to  apply  that  great  ad- 
vice of  our  Lord's,  Whatsoever  you  would  that  men 
should  do  to  you,  do  that  to  them,  &c.  and  till  they 
become  studious  of  excelling  other  men,  in  substantial 
goodness,  abstractedness  from  the  world,  meekness 
humility,  sobriety,  self-denial,  and  charity,  and  to  lay 
a  greater  stress  hereon,  than  on  being  of  one  or  other 
denomination,  God's  controversy  will  not  cease. 

'I  reckon  it  much  to  be  considered,  and  I  pray  you 
consider  it  deeply,  that  after  that  great  precept,  Eph. 
iv.  30.  Grieve  not  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God,  it  imme- 
diately follows,  ver.  31.  Let  all  bitterness,  and  anger^ 
and  wrath,  and  clamour,  and  evil  speaking  be  put  away 
from  you,  with  all  malice :  plainly  implying  that  the 
Spirit  of  God,  that  Spirit  of  all  love,  goodness,  sweet- 
ness, and  benignity,  is  grieved  by  nothing  more  than 
by  our  bitterness,  wrathfulness,  &c.  And  it  appears 
that  the  discernible  restraint  and  departure  of  that 
blessed  Spirit  from  the  Church  of  Christ  in  so  great  a 
measure,  for  many  foregoing  generations,  in  comparison 
of  the  plentiful  efl^'usion  of  it  in  the  first  age,  hath  en- 
sued upon  the  growth  of  that  wrathful  contentious 
Spirit  which  showed  itself  early  in  the  Gnostick,  but 
much  more  in  the  after-Arian  persecution,  which  was 
not  in  some  places  less  bloody  than  the  pagan  persecu- 
tion had  been  before.  Oh  the  gentleness,  kindness, 
tenderness,  and  compassionateness  of  the  evangelical 
truly  Christian  spirit,  as  it  most  eminently  appeared 
in  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  himself!  And  we  are  told,  if 
any  man  have  not  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  he  is  none  oi 
his,  Rom.  viii.  9.  And  how  easy  and  pleasant  is  it  to 
one's  own  self,  to  be  void  of  all  wrathfulness,  and  vin- 
dictive designs  or  inclinations  towards  any  other  man! 
For  my  own  part,  I  should  not  have  that  peace  and 
consolation  in  a  suffering  condition,  (as  my  being  so 
many  years  under  restraint  from  that  pleasant  work  of 
pleading  with  sinners  that  they  might  be  saved,  is  the 
greatest  suffering  I  was  liable  to  in  this  world,)  as 
through  the  goodness  of  God  I  have  found,  and  do  find, 
in  being  conscious  to  myself  of  no  other  than  kind  and 
benign  thoughts  towards  them  I  have  suffered  by,  and 
that  my  heart  tells  me  I  desire  not  the  least  hurt  to 
them  that  would  do  me  the  greatest;  and  that  I  feel 
within  myself  an  unfeigned  love  and  high  estimatioa 
of  divers,  accounting  them  pious  worthy  persons,  and 
hoping  to  meet  them  in  the  all-reconciling  world,  that 
are  yet  (through  some  mistake)  too  harsh  towards  us 
who  dissent  from  them:  and  in  things  of  this  nature  I 
pray  that  you  and  I  may  abound  more  and  more. 

But  again,  as  I  would  not  have  your  spirits  imbittered, 
so  I  would  not  have  your  spirits  discouraged,  or  sunk 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


in  dejection.  The  Lord  will  not  cast  off  his  people, 
because  it  hath  pleased  him  to  make  them  his  people, 
1  Sam.  xii.  22.  I  do  not  mean  those  of  this  or  that 
party,  but  who  fear  God  and  work  righteousness,  be 
they  of  what  party  soever.  As  I  often  think  of  that 
saying  of  an  ancient,  {Clem.  Alex.)  that  he  counted  not 
that  philosophy,  which  was  peculiar  to  this  or  that  sect, 
but  whatsoever  of  truth  was  to  be  found  in  any  of 
them;  so  I  say  of  Christianity,  'tis  not  that  which  is 
appropriate  to  this  or  that  party,  but  whatsoever  of 
sincere  religion  shall  be  found  common  to  them  all. 
Such  will  value  and  love  his  favour  and  presence,  and 
shall  have  it;  and  he  will  yet  have  such  a  people  in 
the  world,  and,  I  doubt  not,  more  numerous  than  ever. 
And  as  the  bitterness  of  Christians  one  towards  another 
chased  away  his  Spirit,  his  Spirit  shall  vanquish  and 
drive  away  all  that  bitterness,  and  consume  our  other 
dross.  And  as  the  aposiacy  long  ago  foretold,  and  of 
so  long  continuance  m  the  Christian  church,  hath  been 
begun  and  continued  by  constant  war  agamst  the 
Spirit  of  Christ;  the  restitution  and  recovery  of  the 
church,  and  the  reduction  of  Christianity  to  its  ancient 
self,  and  primitive  state,  will  be  by  the  victory  of  the 
Spirit  of  Christ  over  that  so  contrary  spirit.  Then 
shall  all  the  enmity,  pride,  wrathfulness,  and  cruelty, 
which  have  rent  the  church  of  Christ  and  made  it  so 
little  itself,  be  melted  down;  and  with  all  their  great 
impurities  besides,  earthliness,  carnality,  love  of  this 
present  world,  and  prevalence  of  sensual  lusts,  be 
purged  more  generally  away,  and  his  repairing  work 
be  done  in  a  way  grievous  to  no  one,  whereby  those 
that  are  most  absolutely  conquered  will  be  most  highly 
pleased:  not  by  might  or  by  power,  but  by  the  Spirit 
of  the  Lord. 

'  In  the  mean  time  let  us  draw  nigh  to  God,  and  he 
will  draw  nigh  to  us.  Let  us  more  study  the  exercising 
ourselves  to  godliness,  and  take  heed  of  turning  the 
religion  of  our  closets  into  spiritless  uncomfortable 
formalities.     Their  hearts  shall  live  that  seek  God. 

'  To  that  blessed,  and  faithful,  and  covenant-keeping 
God  I  commit  you;  and  to  the  word  of  his  grace, 
which  is  able  to  build  you  up  further,  and  give  j'ou  an 
inheritance  among  them  that  are  sanctified. 

'  And  as  I  hope  I  shall  without  ceasing  remember 
you  in  mine,  so  I  hope  you  will  remember  too  in  your 
prayers, 

Your  sincerely  affectionate, 

Though  too  unprofitable. 

Servant  in  Christ, 

JOHN  HOWE.' 

In  the  course  of  his  travels  with  this  noble  lord, 
Mr.  Howe  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  divers  noted 
places,  and  conversing  freely,  not  only  with  a  number 
of  learned  papists,  but  several  protestant  divines,  both 
Lutherans  and  Calvinists,  and  making  a  variety  of 
remarks  for  his  own  use :  and  in  the  mean  time,  he  was 
often  not  a  little  affected  with  the  melancholy  tidings 
of  the  swift  advances  they  were  making  in  England 
towards  popery  and  slavery,  which  he  most   heartily 


lamented,  as  well  as  the  hardships  and  severities  which 
his  nonconforming  brethren  met  with  in  particular. 
And  not  having  any  encouragement  from  the  posture 
of  affairs  to  return  home,  he  at  length,  in  the  j^ear  1686, 
settled  in  the  pleasant  city  of  Utrecht,  which  is  the 
capital  of  one  of  the  seven  United  Provinces.  Ha 
took  a  house,  and  resided  there  for  some  time,  and  had 
the  Earl  of  Sutherland  and  his  countess,  and  some 
English  gentlemen,  together  with  his  two  nephews, 
Mr.  George  and  Mr.  John  Hughes,  boarding  with  him. 
He  took  his  turn  of  preaching  at  the  English  church 
in  that  city,  with  Mr.  Matthew  Mead,  Mr.  Woodcock, 
and  Mr.  Cross,  who  were  there  at  the  same  time.  They 
kept  frequent  days  of  solemn  prayer  together,  on  the 
account  of  the  threatening  state  of  affairs  in  their  own 
country:  and  Mr.  Howe  generally  preached  on  the 
Lord's-days  in  the  evening  in  his  o"wn  family.  And 
there  being  several  English  students  then  at  that 
university,  in  order  to  their  being  fitted  for  future  use- 
fulness, Mr.  Howe  was  pleased  to  favour  some  of  them 
with  hearing  their  orations  and  disputations  in  private, 
and  giving  them  his  particular  instructions  and  advice 
as  they  were  prosecuting  their  studies,  which  some  have 
owned  to  have  been  of  no  small  advantage  to  them. 
There  were  also  several  other  worthy  persons  of  the 
English  nation  at  that  time  there,  and  in  other  parts  of 
the  United  Provinces,  that  they  might  shelter  them- 
selves from  prosecutions  in  their  own  country ;  such  as 
Sir  John  Thompson,  (afterwards  Lord  Haversham,)  Sir 
John  Guise,  Sir  Patience  Ward,  and  Mr.  Papillon;  and 
there  was  a  good  harmony  and  correspondence  among 
them;  and  Mr.  Howe  received  much  respect  from 
them,  as  well  as  from  the  professors  in  that  academy. 

Among  others  by  whom  he  was  visited  while  he 
continued  at  Utrecht,  one  was  Dr.  Gilbert  Burnet, 
afterward  Bishop  of  Sarum,  who  also  preached  in  the 
English  church  there,  and  very  frankly  declared  for 
occasional  communion  with  those  of  different  senti- 
ments. He  and  Mr.  Howe  had  a  great  deal  of  free 
conversation,  upon  a  variety  of  subjects:  and  once 
discoursing  of  nonconformit}',  the  Doctor  told  him,  he 
was  apprehensive  that  it  could  not  subsist  long;  but 
that  when  Mr.  Baxter,  and  Dr.  Bates,  and  he,  and  a 
few  more,  were  once  laid  in  their  graves,  it  would  sink, 
and  die,  and  come  to  nothing.  Mr.  Howe  replied,  that 
that  must  be  left  to  God ;  though  he  at  the  same  time 
intimated  that  he  had  different  apprehensions ;  and  did 
not  reckon  it  to  depend  upon  persons,  but  upon  prin- 
ciple, which  when  taken  up  upon  grounds  approved 
upon  search,  could  not  be  laid  aside  by  men  of  con- 
science. The  best  way,  he  said,  to  put  an  end  to  non- 
conformity, would  be  by  giving  due  liberty  under  the 
national  settlement,  and  laying  aside  needless  clogs 
that  would  give  occasion  to  endless  debates.  Were 
this  once  done,  there  would  be  no  room  for  a  conscien- 
tious nonconformity:  but  that  without  it,  they  could 
expect  no  other  than  that  as  some  passed  off  the  stage, 
others  would  rise  up  and  fill  their  places,  who  woulJ 
act  upon  the  same  principles  as  they  had  done  beloro 
them;    though    he  hoped  with  a  due  moderation  and 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


temper  towards  those  of  different  sentiments.  And  the 
event  has  showed,  that  he  was  herein  in  the  right. 

Several  years  after  this,  I  myself  having  occasion  to 
wait  upon  Dr.  Burnet,  after  he  had  been  some  time 
Bishop  of  Sarum,  at  his  palace  in  that  city,  where  I 
was  treated  with  great  frankness  and  civility,  his  lord- 
ship signified  how  well  he  was  pleased  with  the  temper 
discovered  by  the  rising  generation  of  ministers  among 
the  dissenters;  though  at  the  same  time  he  intimated, 
that  it  was  the  common  apprehension  of  the  great  men 
of  their  church,  that  nonconformity  would  have 
been  re&  unius  cctatis  only,  and  not  have  been  con- 
tinued to  another  generation,  but  have  drawn  to  an 
end,  when  they  that  were  ejected  out  of  the  public 
churches  were  once  laid  in  their  graves.  Upon  this 
occasion,  I  declared  to  his  lordship,  that  which,  having 
so  fair  an  opportunity,  I  shall  not  now  be  shy  of  sig- 
nifying more  publicly ;  viz.  that  after  the  closest  search 
into  this  matter  of  which  I  have  been  capable,  I  can- 
not perceive  that  while  and  as  long  as  the  spirit  of  im- 
position continues,  any  other  can  reasonably  be  ex- 
pected, than  that  there  will  be  some  who  will  think 
themselves  obliged  to  stand  up  for  a  generous  liberty, 
the  doing  of  which  may  be  very  consistent  with  all 
that  charity  and  brotherly  love  that  is  required,  either 
by  reason  or  Scripture.  And  this  liberty  has,  since  the 
death  of  the  greatest  part  of  the  ejected  ministers, 
(though  with  the  full  approbation  of  such  of  them  as 
were  then  living,  and  of  Mr.  Howe  in  particular,)  been 
defended  by  some  among  the  dissenters,  upon  a  bottom 
so  truly  large  and  noble,  that  the  sagacious  Mr.  Locke 
himself,  whom  I  believe  most  people  will  own  to  have 
been  a  pretty  good  judge,  has  more  than  once  (as  I 
have  been  credibly  informed)  freely  owned,  that  as 
long  as  they  kept  to  that  bottom,  they  need  not  ques- 
tion being  able  to  stand  their  ground.  And  the  nvim- 
ber  of  their  friends  and  abettors  so  increased,  partly  on 
the  account  of  the  largeness  of  the  foundations  they 
went  upon,  and  partly  also  upon  their  steady  zeal  for 
the  government  after  the  revolution,  while  the  estab- 
lished church  was  miserably  divided,  about  the  oaths, 
and  a  great  many  other  things  that  were  very  distaste- 
ful to  men  of  sense  emd  thought ;»  that  in  all  probabi- 
lity their  interest  must  before  this  time  have  had  a  con- 
siderable accession  of  strength,  had  it  not  been  for 
their  tmaiccountable  heals  in  the  reign  of  King  William, 
and  also  in  the  reign  of  his  present  majesty  King 
George;  by  which  they  have  been  sadly  exposed  and 
weakened.  But  of  all  persons,  those  that  are  zealous 
for  the  established  church,  have  little  reason  upon  this 
account  to  insult  them,  because  of  the  shameful  differ- 
ences they  have  had  amongst  themselves,  which  in  a 
great  measure  continue  to  this  day.  We  may  here  say 
very  safely,  Iliacos  intra  muros  peccatur  et  extra. 

While  Mr.  Howe  continued  in  Holland,  the  late 
King  William,  (of  glorious  and  immortal  memory,)  who 
was  at  that  time  Prince  of  Orange,  did  him  the  honour 
to  admit  him  several  times  into  his  presence,  and  dis- 

n  The  miserable  confuBion  the  high-church  party  were  in  after  the  revolution,' 
about  the  oatjisj  ajid  al?out  their  prayers,  ei^d  abw*  coi^Mnunion,  ^c  is  most 


coursed  with  him  with  great  freedom ;  and  he  eve? 
after  retained  a  particular  respect  for  him.  I  well  re- 
member also,  that  he  himself  once  informed  me  ol 
some  very  private  conversation  he  had  with  that  prince, 
upon  his  sending  for  him,  not  long  before  his  death. 
Among  other  things,  the  king  then  asked  him  a  great 
many  questions,  about  his  old  master  Oliver,  as  he 
called  him,  and  seemed  not  a  little  pleased  with  the 
answers  that  were  returned  to  some  of  his  questions. 

In  1687,  King  James  published  his  declaration  for 
liberty  of  conscience,  upon  which  the  dissenters  were 
freed  from  their  fetters  and  shackles,  and  were  allowed 
the  freedom  of  worshipping  God  in  public,  in  their  own 
way,  without  any  molestation.  Mr.  Howe's  flock  in 
London  earnestly  pressed  for  his  return  to  them  ac- 
cording to  his  promise,  and  he  readily  complied. 
But  before  he  left  Holland,  he  thought  it  proper  to 
wait  on  the  Prince  of  Orange,  who  in  his  usual  way 
received  him  very  graciously.  He  signified  to  his 
royal  highness,  that  he  was  returning  for  England,  at 
the  earnest  solicitation  of  his  friends  there,  who  were 
impatient  of  his  absence,  now  that  he  was  in  a  capacity 
of  public  service  among  them.  The  prince  wished  him 
a  good  voyage,  and  advised  him,  though  he  and  his 
brethren  made  use  of  the  liberty  granted  by  King 
James,  yet  to  be  very  cautious  in  addressing ;  and  not 
to  be  prevailed  with  upon  any  terms,  to  fall  in  with  the 
measures  of  the  court,  as  to  taking  off  the  penal  laws 
and  test,  which  was  the  thing  intended,  but  which 
would  have  fatal  consequences ;  and  to  use  his  utmost 
influence  in  order  to  the  restraining  others:  which  he 
readily  promised ;  and  he  was  as  good  as  his  word. 

Upon  his  return  into  his  own  country,  which  was  in 
May  this  year,  he  was  gladly  received  by  his  old 
friends  and  brethren,  and  v/ith  joy  (though  not  without 
an  aching  heart,  considering  the  apparent  danger  of  the 
public)  returned  to  the  free  exercise  of  his  ministry. 
He  was  thankful  for  a  little  breathing  time  afforded, 
and  endeavoured  to  improve  it  to  the  best  purposes,  and 
to  preserve  himself  and  others  from  the  snares  that 
were  laid  for  them. 

The  author  of  the  life  of  a  celebrated  nonjuror,  casts 
some  most  invidious  reflections  upon  the  body  of  the 
dissenters,  and  their  conduct  in  this  reign.  He  in- 
sinuates, that  when  that  inconsistent  people  had  long 
cried  out  against  the  members  of  the  church  of  Eng- 
land as  inclinable  to  popery,  they  themselves  were  the 
first  to  join  hands  with  this  popery,  against  the  church 
of  England,  and  to  favour  the  designs  thereof,  which 
they  had  but  just  before  so  loudly  exclaimed  against." 
And  it  must  be  owned,  that  they  would  have  been  an 
inconsistent  people  indeed,  had  the  body  of  them  acted 
in  that  manner :  but  the  best  of  it  is,  that  this  is  a  sug- 
gestion that  is  as  void  of  truth  as  it  is  of  charity.  li 
some  among  the  dissenters  did  charge  those  of  the 
church  of  England  with  favouring  popery  m  King 
Charles's  reign,  it  was  because  of  their  appearing  so 
zealous  for  his  brother,  who  was  well  known  to  be  a 

admirably  illustrated,  by  the  account  given  in  the  Life  of  Mr.  John  Kettlewell 
Part,  ni. 
o  Lite  of  Mr.  Kettlewell,  in  Svo.  p.  141. 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


papist,  and  from  whom  no  other  could  be  expected  than 
that  he  would,  if  he  came  to  the  crown,  do  his  utmost 
to  bring  in  popery,  in  opposition  to  all  the  laws  and 
securities  against  it ;  and  they  evidently  hazarded 
the  loss  of  our  liberty  and  religion  too,  by  making 
the  dangerous  experiment :  and  they  would  boldly 
venture  upon  this,  though  they  were  freely  warned 
beforehand  what  the  consequence  would  be.  But  as 
for  joining  hands  with  this  popery,  none  were  more 
free  from  that  than  the  dissenters.  Bishop  Burnet 
owns,  that  how  much  soever  a  few  weak  persons  might 
be  intoxicated  by  the  caresses  of  the  court,  and  elevated 
by  an  appearance  of  favour  shown  them,  yet  the  '  wiser 
men  among  them  saw  through  all  this,  and  perceived 
the  design  of  the  papists  was  now  to  set  on  the  dissent- 
ers against  the  church,  as  much  as  they  had  formerly 
set  the  church  against  them:  and  therefore,  though 
they  returned  to  their  conventicles,  (as  he  is  pleased 
to  call  them,  though  not  a  jot  the  better  thought  of 
upon  that  account  by  his  warmer  brethren,)  yet  they 
had  a  just  jealousy  of  the  ill  designs  that  lay  hid  un- 
der all  this  sudden  and  unexpected  show  of  grace  and 
kindness.'P 

In  confirmation  of  this,  I  can  upon  good  grounds 
assure  the  reader,  that  whereas  there  were  about  this 
time  great  endeavours  used  to  draw  in  the  dissenting 
ministers  to  approve  the  measures  of  the  court,  and  fre- 
quent meetings  among  them  to  consider  of  their  own 
behaviour,  at  which  times  Mr.  Howe  was  seldom  absent, 
he  always  declared  against  approving  the  dispensing 
power,  or  any  thing  that  could  give  the  papists  any 
assistance  in  the  carrying  on  their  designs;  and  he 
therein  had  the  full  concurrence  of  the  generality  of 
his  brethren.  I  have  had  a  particular  account  of  one 
meeting  at  Mr.  Howe's  own  house,  in  order  to  consider 
of  the  advisableness  of  drawing  up  a  writing  to  sig- 
nify their  concurrence  with  the  king,  as  to  the  ends  of 
his  declaration ;  at  which  time  there  were  two  persons 
present  that  came  from  court,  and  intimated  that  his 
majesty  waited  in  his  closet,  and  would  not  stir  from 
thence  till  an  account  was  brought  him  of  their  pro- 
ceedings. I  have  heard  that  one  in  the  company  did 
intimate  that  he  thought  it  but  reasonable  they  should 
comply  with  his  majesty's  desire.  To  which  another 
immediately  replied,  that  he  was  fully  convinced  that 
the  sufferings  they  had  met  with,  had  been  all  along  on 
the  account  of  their  firm  adherence  to  the  civil  interest 
of  the  nation,  in  opposition  to  tory  schemes,  rather  than 
on  the  account  of  their  religious  principles:  and  there- 
fore if  the  king  expected  they  should  join  in  approving 
such  a  conduct  as  would  give  the  papists  their  liberty, 
and  establish  a  dispensing  power,  he  had  rather  he 
should  take  their  liberty  again.  Mr.  Howe,  in  sum- 
ming up  the  matter,  signified  they  were  generally  of 
that  brother's  sentiments,  and  could  by  no  means  en- 
courage the  dispensing  power;  and  it  was  left  to  those 
who  came  down  to  them  from  court,  to  report  that  as 
their  common  sense  to  those  that  sent  them.     Several 


p  Bishop  Bumefs  History  of  liia  own  Times,  vol.  1.  pa^e  6T3. 
q  Life  of  Mr.  John  Ketllewell,  page  147. 


of  their  ministers  were,  it  must  be  confessed,  afterwards 
privately  closeted  by  King  James;  and  I  won't  say 
but  some  few  of  them,  who  had  personal  and  particular 
favours  shown  them,  might  be  drawn  too  far  into  the 
snare,  and  use  their  interest  in  order  to  the  taking  off 
all  penal  laws  and  tests :  but  they  were  but  very  few, 
and  as  soon  as  it  was  known,  their  interest  and  sig- 
nificance was  lessened;  the  far  greater  number  stood 
it  out;  and  Mr.  Howe  particularly,  when  the  king  dis- 
coursed with  him  alone,  told  his  majesty  that  he  was  a 
minister  of  the  Gospel,  and  it  was  his  province  to 
preach,  and  endeavour  to  do  good  to  the  sotils  of  men ; 
but  that  as  for  meddling  with  state  affairs,  he  was  £is 
little  inclined  as  he  was  called  to  it,  and  begged  to  be 
excused. 

The  same  author  also  observes,  '  that  upon  King 
James's  famous  declaration  to  all  his  loving  subjects  for 
liberty,  there  followed  a  vast  crowd  of  congratulatory  ad- 
dresses and  acknowledgments,  from  all  sorts  of  dissenters, 
complimenting  the  king  in  the  highest  manner,  and 
protesting  what  mighty  returns  of  loyalty  they  would 
make  his  majesty,  for  such  his  favour  and  indulgence 
to  them. '9  And  he  adds,  'only  the  members  of  the 
church  of  England  generally  were  hereat  very  un- 
easy.' But  Bishop  Burnet,  who  I  am  apt  to  think  will 
be  most  likely  to  be  regarded  in  the  case,  gives  a  quite 
different  representation  of  the  matter.  He,  speaking 
of  the  dissenters,  says,  '  It  was  visible  to  all  men,  thea 
the  courting  them  at  this  time  was  not  from  any  kind- 
ness, or  good  opinion  that  the  king  had  of  them.  They 
needed  not  to  be  told,  that  all  the  favour  expected  from 
popery  was  once  to  bring  it  in,  under  the  colour  of  a 
general  toleration,  till  it  should  be  strong  enough  to 
set  on  a  general  persecution :  and  therefore,  as  they 
could  not  engage  themselves  to  support  such  an  ar- 
bitrary prerogative  as  was  now  made  use  of,  so  neither 
could  they  go  into  any  engagements  for  popery.  They 
did  believe  that  the  indignation  against  the  church 
party,  and  the  kindness  to  them,  were  things  too  imna- 
tural  to  last  long.  So  the  more  considerable  among 
them  resolved  not  to  stand  at  too  great  a  distance  from 
the  court,  nor  to  provoke  the  king  so  far,  as  to  give 
him  cause  to  think  they  were  irreconcilable  to  him, 
lest  they  should  provoke  him  to  make  up  matters  on 
any  terms  with  the  church  party.  On  the  other  hand. 
they  resolved  not  to  provoke  the  church  party,  or  by 
any  ill  behaviour  of  theirs  drive  them  into  a  reconcilia- 
tion with  the  court. '«■ 

As  to  the  addresses  of  the  dissenters  upon  this  occa- 
sion, though  some  of  them  ran  high,  j-et  the  church 
party  had  set  them  the  pattern,  and  therefore  it  was 
the  less  decent  in  them  to  make  complaints  of  them. 
Those  of  the  establishment  had  in  a  most  luxuriant 
manner  thanked  King  Charles  for  dissolving  one  of  the 
best  of  parliaments,  and  as  the  Earl  of  Warrington  de- 
clared in  his  speech,  were  mighty  'forward  in  the  sur- 
render of  charters ;  and  in  their  fulsome  addresses  and 
abhorrences,  made  no  other  claim  to  their  liberties  and 

r  Bp.  Burnet't  Hutorr  of  his  ovm  Times,  voL  1.  page  TOS. 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE, 


civil  rights,  than  as  concessions  from  the  crown :  telling 
the  king,  eveiy  one  of  his  commands  was  stamped 
with  Godls  authority,'  &c.  And  the  university  of  Ox- 
ford in  particular,  had  in  one  of  their  public  addresses 
promised  King  James,  that  '  they  would  obey  him  with- 
out limitations  or  restrictions:'^  which  was  not  to  be 
equalled  by  any  thing  that  came  even  from  the  most 
incautious  or  the  most  transported  dissenters.  And  if 
they  did  not  now  preach  so  much  against  popery  as 
the  churchmen,  they  may  the  more  easily  be  excused, 
because  their  people  did  not  so  much  need  it.  They 
had  little  reason  to  fear  that  any  of  their  persuasion 
would  be  perverted,  for  that  the  adhering  to  their  dis- 
tinguishing principle  of  the  sufficiency  of  Scripture, 
would  not  fail  of  securing  them ;  while  many  of  the 
bishops  and  doctors  of  the  church  of  England,  had  in- 
stilled into  their  followers  such  odd  notions,  about  the 
power  of  the  church  in  matters  of  faith,  the  apostolical 
succession  and  power  of  bishops,  their  right  to  judge  of 
fitness  and  decency  in  the  worship  of  God,  to  which 
all  others  must  submit,  and  the  binding  force  of  old 
canons  and  councils,  that  it  highly  concerned  them 
to  do  all  that  they  were  able  to  deliver  them  from  the 
consequences  which  they  might  easily  foresee  the  Ro- 
manists would  put  them  upon  drawing  from  such  prin- 
ciples. And  the  truth  of  it  is,  though  I  han't  the 
least  word  to  say,  to  the  lessening  that  glorious  de- 
fence of  the  protestant  cause  that  was  at  this  time  made 
by  the  writings  of  the  divines  of  the  church  party,  yet 
the  dissenters  may  be  very  well  allowed  to  have  taken 
no  small  pleasure,  in  seeing  those  gentlemen  baffle 
the  papists,  upon  such  principles  as  they  might  easily 
discern  would  help  to  set  the  authors  themselves  more 
upright  than  some  of  them  had  been  before;  and  in 
such  a  case  to  have  offered  to  take  the  work  out  of 
their  hands,  had  been  over-officious,  and  an  indecent 
intermeddling. 

However,  the  king  went  on  with  his  design,  and 
nothing  would  satisfy  him,  but  his  declaration  for 
liberty  must  be  read  in  all  the  churches.  The  bishops 
meeting  together  for  consultation,  were  convinced  that 
their  concurring  in  this  step,  and  sending  the  declara- 
tion to  all  their  clergy,  and  requiring  their  reading  it 
publicly  to  the  people,  would  be  an  owning  the  dis- 
pensing power:  and  therefore  they  drew  up  a  pefition 
to  his  majesty,  in  which  they  desired  to  be  excused. 
This  petition  was  called  a  libel,  and  they  were  sent  to 
the  Tower  for  presenting  it. 

Mr.  Howe  being  at  this  time  invited  to  dinner  by 
Dr.  Sherlock,  the  Master  of  the  Temple,  accepted  the 
invitation,  and  was  very  civilly  treated ;  and  there 
were  two  or  three  other  clergymen  at  the  table.  After 
dinner,  the  discourse  ran  mostly  upon  the  danger  the 
church  was  at  that  time  in,  of  being  entirely  ruined. 
The  Doctor,  freely,  but  pretty  abruptly,  asked  Mr. 
Howe,  what  he  thought  the  dissenters  would  do,  sup- 
posing the  preferments  of  the  church  should  be  made 
vacant,  and  an  offer  should  be  made  of  filling  them  up 
out  of  their  number  1  Mr.  Howe  was  so  surprised 
8  Bishop  Biuret's  History  of  his  own  Times,  vol.  1.  p.  620. 


with  such  a  question  as  this,  which  he  little  expected, 
that  he  was  at  first  at  a  loss  for  an  answer.    Where- 
upon  the   Doctor   drew   out  his   dark   and    melancholy 
scheme  very  distinctly,  with  all  imaginable  marks  of 
concern.      He    told  him    he  thought    that  the  bishops 
would  be  as  certainly  cast,  as  they  were  at  that  time 
imprisoned  in  the  Tower:  that  the  rest  of  the  clergy, 
who  had  so  generally  refused  reading  the  king's  decla- 
ration, would  follow  after  them :  that  it  was  not  a  thing 
to  be  supposed  that  their  places  should  be  suffered  to 
continue  vacant :  and  that  no  way  could  be  thought  of 
for  the  filling  them  up  again,  but  from  among  the  dis- 
senters:  and  who  know^s,  said  he,  but  Mr.  Howe  may 
be  offered  to  be  Master  of  the  Temple  1     And  therefore 
he  intimated  he  was  very  desirous  to  know  how  they 
would  be  inclined  to  behave,  upon  such  a  supposition  ; 
of  which  he  believed  him  to  be  as  capable  of  giving 
an  account  as  any  man  whatsoever.     Mr.  Howe  told 
the  Doctor,  that  these  were  things  that  were  altogether 
uncertain :  but  that  if  it  should  so  happen  that  matters 
should  fall  out  according  to  his  fears,  he  could  not  pre- 
tend to  answer  for  the  conduct  of  the  dissenters,  among 
whom    there    were    several    parties,    that    acted    upon 
different    principles;    and    that    therefore   it  was    most 
reasonable  to  suppose,  their  conduct  might  be  different. 
He  signified  to  him,  that  he  could  answer  for  none  but 
himself:    and  that  he  thought  for  his  part,   if   things 
should  ever  come  to  the  pass  he  mentioned,  he  should 
not    baulk    an    opportunity    of    more    public    service, 
(which  he  was  not  aware  he  had  done  any  thing   "o 
forfeit,)  provided  it  was  offered  him  upon  such  terms  as 
he  had  no  just  reason  to  except  against:  but  then  he 
added,  that  as  for  the  emolument  thence  accruing,  he 
should  not  be   for  meddling  with  that,  any  otherwise 
than  as  a  hand   to  convey  it  to  the  legal  proprietor. 
Whereupon  the  Doctor  rose  up  from  his  seat,  and  em- 
braced him,  and   said   that  he  had  always  taken   hio 
for  that  ingenuous  honest  man  that  he  now  found  him 
to  be,   and  seemed    not   a  little  transported   with   joy. 
Mr.  Howe  afterwards  telling  this  passage  to  a  certain 
great  man  in  the  church,  to  whom  the  Doctor  was  well 
known,  and  signifying  how  much  he  was  on  a  sudden 
to  seek   for   an  answer  to  a  question   he  so   little   ex- 
pected,  which  was  bottomed  upon  a  supposition,   that 
had  not  so  much  as  once  entered  into  his  thoughts  be- 
fore,  he  immediately  made   him  this   reply :    Sir,   you 
say  you  had  not  once  thought  of  the  case,  or  so  much 
as  supposed  any  thing  like  it ;  but  you  must  give  me 
leave  to  tell  you,  if  you   had  studied  the  case  seven 
years  together,  you  could  not  have  said  any  thing  that 
had  been  more  to  the  purpose,  or  more  to  the  Doctor's 
satisfaction. 

When  these  fears  were  all  blown  over,  and  a  happy 
revolution  brought  about  in  1688,  and  the  Prince  of 
Orange  was  come  to  St.  James's  Palace,  the  dissenting 
ministers  waited  on  him  in  a  body,  and  were  intro- 
duced by  the  Lords  Devonshire,  Wharton,  and  Wilt- 
shire; at  which  time,  Mr.  Howe,  in  the  name  of  the 
rest,  made  a  handsome  speech,  signifying, 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


'That  they  professed  their  grateful  sense  of  his 
highness's  hazardous  and  heroical  expedition,  which 
the  favour  of  Heaven  had  made  so  surprisingly  pros- 
perous. 

'That  they  esteemed  it  a  common  felicity,  that  the 
worthy  patriots  of  the  nobility  and  gentry  of  this  king- 
dom, had  unanimously  concurred  unto  his  highness's  de- 
sign, by  whose  most  prudent  advice,  the  administration 
of  public  affairs  was  devolved  in  this  difficult  conjunc- 
ture, into  hands  which  the  nation  and  the  world  knew  to 
be  apt  for  the  greatest  undertakings,  and  so  suitable  to 
the  present  exigence  of  our  case. 

'  That  they  promised  the  utmost  endeavours,  which  in 
their  stations  they  were  capable  of  affording,  for  promo- 
ting the  excellent  and  most  desirable  ends  for  which  his 
highness  had  declared. 

'  That  they  added  their  continual  and  fervent  prayers 
to  the  Almighty,  for  the  preservation  of  his  highness's 
person,  and  the  success  of  his  future  endeavours,  for  the 
defence  and  propagation  of  the  protestant  interest 
throughout  the  Christian  world. 

'That  they  should  all  most  willingly  have  chosen 
that  for  the  season  of  paying  this  duty  to  his  highness, 
when  the  lord  bishop  and  the  clergy  of  London  at- 
tended his  highness  for  the  same  purpose,  (which  some 
of  them  did,  and  which  his  lordship  was  pleased  con- 
descendingly to  make  mention  of  to  his  highness,)  had 
their  notice  of  that  intended  application  been  so  early,  as 
to  make  their  more  general  attendance  possible  to  them 
at  that  time. 

'  And  that  therefore,  though  they  did  now  appear  in 
a  distinct  company,  they  did  it  not  on  a  distinct  account, 
but  on  that  only  which  was  common  to  them  and  to  all 
protestants. 

'  That  there  were  some  of  eminent  note,  whom  age  or 
present  infirmitiest  hindered  from  coming  with  them; 
yet  they  concurred  in  the  same  grateful  sense  of  our  com- 
mon deliverance.' 

The  prince  in  answer,  assured  them,  '  that  he  came 
on  purpose  to  defend  the  protestant  religion,  and  that  it 
was  his  o'vvn  religion,  in  which  he  was  born  and  bred ; 
the  religion  of  his  country,  and  of  his  ancestors:  and 
that  he  was  resolved,  by  the  grace  of  God,  always  to 
adhere  to  it,  and  to  do  his  utmost  endeavours  for  the  de- 
fence of  it,  and  the  promoting  a  firm  union  among  pro- 
testants.' 

In  this  year  1688,  Mr.  Howe  published  a  few  prac- 
tical discourses :  as, '  A  Sermon  on  John  v.  42.  directing 
what  we  are  to  do  after  strict  Inquiry,  whether  or  no  we 
truly  love  God :'  and  '  Two  Sermons  preached  at  Thur- 
low  in  Suffolk,  on  those  words,  Rom.  vi.  13.  Yield  your- 
selves to  God.' 

In  1689,  he  wrote  a  short  letter  about  the  case  of  the 
French  protestants,  which  I  shall  here  add,  leaving  it  to 
the  reader  to  guess  (and  I  cannot  myself  do  more)  to 
whom  it  was  addressed,     'Twas  in  these  words  : 

•Sir, 
'  BcT  that  I  am  learning  as  much  as  I  can  to  count 
t  This  referred  to  Mr.  Baxter  and  Dr.  Bates. 


nothing  strange  among  the  occurrences  of  the  present 
time,  I  should  be  greatly  surprised  to  find,  that  divers 
French  protestant  ministers,  fled  hither  for  their  con- 
sciences and  religion,  who  have  latitude  enough  to  con- 
form to  the  rites  of  the  church  of  England,  do  accuse 
others  of  their  brethren,  who  are  fled  hither  on  the  same 
accoimt,  but  have  not  that  latitude,  a^  schismatics,  only 
for  practising  according  to  the  principles  and  usages  of 
their  own  church,  which  at  home  were  common  to  them 
both ;  and,  as  schismatics,  judge  them  unworthy  of  any 
relief  here.  Their  common  enemy  never  yet  passed  so 
severe  a  judgment  on  any  of  them,  that  they  should  be 
famished.  This  is  put  into  the  hands  of  the  appellants 
from  this  sentence,  unto  your  more  equal  judgment.  And 
it  needs  do  no  more  than  thus  briefly  to  represent  their 
case,  and  me. 

Most  honoured  Sir, 
Your  most  obliged, 

and  most  humble  Servant, 
Apmt"^'  •  JOHN  HOWE.' 

This  year  there  were  many  and  warni  debates  in  the 
two  houses  of  Lords  and  Commons,  about  a  compre- 
hension, and  an  indulgence ;  for  bills  were  brought  in 
for  both,  and  both  were  canvassed.  Some  were  so  nai- 
row-spirited  and  so  imgenerous,  as,  forgetting  their  pro- 
mises and  repeated  declarations  in  the  time  of  their  dis- 
tress, from  which  they  were  just  so  wonderfully  deli- 
vered, to  be  for  still  keeping  the  dissenters  under  a  brand. 
Mr.  Howe  therefore  at  this  time  fairly  represented  their 
case,  and  strenuously  argued  upon  it,  in  a  single  sheet  of 
paper,  which  was  printed,  and  is  very  fit  to  be  transmitted 
to  posterity. 

The  case  of  the  Protestant  Dissenters  represented  and  ar- 
gued. 

'  They  are  under  one  common  obligation  with  the  rest 
of  mankind,  by  the  universal  law  of  nature,  to  worship 
God  in  assemblies. 

'  Men  of  all  sorts  of  religions,  that  have  ever  obtained 
in  the  world,  Jews,  Pagans,  Mahometans,  Christians, 
have  in  their  practice  acknowledged  this  obligation.  Nor 
can  it  be  understood,  how  such  a  practice  shoiild  be  so 
universal,  otherwise  than  from  the  dictate  and  impression 
of  the  imiversal  law. 

'Whereas  the  religion  professed  in  England  is  that  of 
reformed  Christianity,  some  things  are  annexed  to  the 
allowed  public  worship,  which  are  acknowledged  to  be  no 
parts  thereof,  nor  in  themselves  necessary;  but  which  the 
dissenters  judge  to  be  in  some  part  sinful. 

'  They  cannot  therefore,  with  good  conscience  towards 
God,  attend  wholly  and  solely  upon  the  public  worship 
which  the  laws  do  appoint. 

'  The  same  laws  do  strictly  forbid  their  assembling  t© 
worship  God  otherwise. 

'  Which  is  in  effect  the  same  thing,  as  if  they  who 
made,  or  shall  continue  such  laws,  should  plainly  say. 
If  you  will  not  consent  with  us  in  our  superadded  rites 
and  modes  against    your    consciences,    you    shaL    not 


XZXll 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


■worship  God;  or  if  you  will  not  accept  of  our  additions 
to  the  Christian  religion,  you  shall  not  be  Christians: 
and  manifestly  tends  to  reduce  to  paganism  a  great  part 
of  a  Christian  nation. 

'  They  have  been  wont  therefore  to  meet  however  in 
distinct  assemblies,  and  to  worship  God  in  a  way  which 
their  consciences  could  approve;  and  have  many  years 
continued  so  to  do,  otherwise  than  as  they  have  been  hin- 
de;  ed  by  violence. 

'  It  is  therefore  upon  the  whole  fit  to  inquire, 

'  Qu.  1.  Whether  they  are  to  be  blamed  for  their  hold- 
ing distinct  meetings  for  the  worship  of  God  1 

'  For  answer  to  this,  it  cannot  be  expected  that  all  the 
controversies  should  be  here  determined,  which  have 
been  agitated  about  the  lawfulness  of  each  of  those 
things  which  have  been  added  to  the  Christian  religion 
and  worship,  by  the  present  constitution  of  the  church  of 
England. 

'  But  supposing  they  were  none  of  them  simply  un- 
lawful, while  yet  the  misinformed  minds  of  the  dissen- 
ters could  not  judge  them  lawful,  though  they  have  made 
it  much  their  business  to  inquire  and  search;  being 
urged  also  by  severe  sufferings,  which  through  a  long 
tract  of  time  they  have  undergone,  not  to  refuse  any 
means  that  might  tend  to  their  satisfaction ;  they  could 
have  nothing  else  left  them  to  do,  than  to  meet  and  wor- 
ship distinctly  as  they  have. 

'  For  they  could  not  but  esteem  the  obligation  of  the 
universal,  natural,  divine  law,  by  Avhich  they  were  bound 
solemnly  to  worship  God,  less  questionable  than  that  of  a 
law,  which  was  only  positive,  topical,  and  human,  re- 
quiring such  and  such  additaments  to  their  worship,  and 
prohibiting  their  worship  without  them. 

'  The  church  of  England,  (as  that  part  affects  to  be 
called,)  distinguished  from  the  rest  by  those  additionals 
to  Christian  religion,  (pretended  to  be  indifferent,  and 
so  confessed  unnecessary,)  hath  not  only  sought  to  en- 
gross to  itself  the  ordinances  of  divine  worship,  but  all 
civil  power.  So  that  the  privileges  that  belong  either  to 
Christian  or  human  society  are  enclosed,  and  made  pe- 
culiar to  such  as  are  distinguished  by  things  that  in  them- 
selves can  signify  nothing  to  the  making  of  persons  either 
better  Christians,  or  better  men. 

'  Qu.  2.  Whether  the  laws  enjoining  such  additions 
to  our  religion,  as  the  exclusive  terms  of  Christian 
worship  and  communion,  ought  to  have  been  made, 
when  it  is  acknowledged  on  all  hands,  the  things  to  be 
added  were  before  not  necessary ;  and  when  it  is  known 
a  great  number  judge  them  sinful,  and  must  thereby 
be  restrained  from  worshipping  the  true  and  living 
Godi 

'  Ans.  The  question  to  any  of  common  sense,  answers 
itself.  For  it  is  not  put  concerning  such  as  dissent 
from  any  part  of  the  substance  of  worship  which  God 
hath  commanded,  but  concerning  such  additions  as  he 
never  commanded.  And  there  are  sufficient  tests  to 
distinguish  such  dissenters  from  those  that  deny  any 
substantial  part  of  religion,   or  assert  any   thing    con- 

u  Vindication  of  some  Protestant  Principles,  4te.  p.  52. 


trary  thereto.  Wherefore  to  forbid  such  to  worship 
that  God  that  made  them,  because  they  can't  receive 
your  devised  additions,  is  to  exclude  that  which  is  ne- 
cessary, for  the  mere  want  of  that  which  is  unneces- 
sary. 

'  And  where  is  that  man  that  will  adventure  to  stand 
forth,  and  avow  the  hindering  of  such  persons  from  pay- 
ing their  homage  to  the  God  that  made  them,  if  we  thus 
expostulate  the  matter  on  God's  behalf  and  their  own  1 
Will  you  cut  off  from  God  his  right  in  the  creatures  he 
hath  made  1  Will  you  cut  off  from  them  the  means  of 
their  salvation  upon  these  terms  1  What  reply  can  the 
matter  admit  1 

'  'Tis  commonly  alleged  that  great  deference  is  to  be 
paid  to  the  laws,  and  that  we  ought  to  have  forborne  our 
assemblies,  till  the  public  authority  recalled  the  laws 
against  them :  and  we  will  say  the  same  thing,  when  it 
is  well  proved,  that  they  who  made  such  laws,  made  the 
world  too. 

'  And  by  whose  authority  were  such  laws  made  1  Is 
there  any  that  is  not  from  God  1  and  hath  God  given 
any  man  authority  to  make  laws  against  himself,  and 
to  deprive  him  of  his  just  rights  from  his  own  crea- 
tures! 

'  Nor  if  the  matter  be  well  searched  into,  could  there 
be  so  much  as  a  pretence  of  authority  derived  for  such 
purposes  from  the  people,  whom  every  one  now  ac- 
knowledges the  first  receptacle  of  derived  governing 
power.  God  can,  'tis  true,  lay  indisputable  obligations 
by  his  known  laws,  upon  every  conscience  of  man 
about  religion,  or  any  thing  else.  And  such  as  repre- 
sent any  people,  can,  according  to  the  constitution  of 
the  government,  make  laws  for  them,  about  the  things 
they  intrust  them  with :  but  if  the  people  of  England 
be  asked  man  by  man,  will  they  say  they  did  intrust 
to  their  representatives,  their  religion,  and  their  con- 
sciences, to  do  with  them  what  they  please  1  When  it 
is  your  own  turn  to  be  represented  by  others,  is  this 
part  of  the  trust  you  commit  1  What  Dr.  Sherlock" 
worthily  says  concerning  a  bishop,  he  might  (and  par- 
ticularly after,  doth)  say  concerning  every  other  man, 
He  can  be  no  more  represented  in  a  council,  than  at  the 
day  of  judgment :  every  man's  soul  and  conscience  must 
be  in  his  own  keeping  ;  and  can  be  represented  by  no 
man. 

'  It  ought  to  be  considered  that  Christianity,  wherein  it 
superadds  to  the  law  of  nature,  is  all  matter  of  revela- 
tion. And  'tis  well  known  that  even  among  pagans,  in 
the  settling  rites  and  institutes  of  religion,"  revelation 
was  pretended  at  least,  upon  an  implied  principle,  that 
in  such  matters  human  power  could  not  oblige  the  peo- 
ple's consciences. 

'  We  must  be  excused  therefore,  if  we  have  in  our 
practice  expressed  less  reverence  for  laws  made  by  no 
authority  received  either  from  God  or  man. 

'We  are  therefore  injuriously  reflected  on,  when  it 
is  imputed  to  us,  that  we  have  by  the  use  of  our  liberty 
acknowledged  an  illegal  dispensing  power.     We  have 

w  As  by  Numa  iVom  his  Egeria.  And  their  priests,  to  whom  the  legulatioa 
01  such  matters  was  left,  were  eenerally  believed  to  be  inspired. 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


done  no  other  thing  herein,  than  we  did  when  no  dispen- 
sation was  given  or  pretended,  in  conscience  of  duty  to 
him  that  gave  us  our  breath :  nor  did  therefore  practise 
otherwise,  because  we  thought  those  laws  dispensed  with, 
but  because  we  thought  thein  not  laws.  Whereupon  little 
need  remains  of  inquiring  further, 

'  Qu.  3.  Whether  such  laws  should  be  continued  1 
Against  which,  besides  what  may  be  collected  from 
that  which  hath  been  said,  it  is  to  be  considered,  that 
what  is  most  principally  grievous  to  us,  was  enacted  by 
that  parliament,  that,  as  we  have  too  much  reason  to 
believe,  suffered  itself  to  be  dealt  with  to  enslave  the 
nation,  in  other  respects  as  well  as  this ;  and  which  (to 
his  immortal  honour)  the  noble  Earl  of  Danby  procured 
to  be  dissolved,  as  the  first  step  towards  our  national  deli- 
verance. 

'  And  let  the  tenour  be  considered  of  that  horrid  law, 
by  which  our  Magna  Charta  was  torn  in  pieces  ;  the 
worst  and  most  infamous  of  mankind,  at  our  own  ex- 
pense, hired  to  accuse  us ;  multitudes  of  perjuries  com- 
mitted, convictions  made  without  a  jury,  and  without 
any  hearing  of  the  persons  accused;  penalties  inflict- 
ed, goods  rifled,  estates  seized  and  embezzled,  houses 
broken  up,  families  disturbed,  often  at  unseasonable 
hours  of  the  night,  without  any  cause,  or  shadow  of  a 
cause,  if  only  a  malicious  villain  would  pretend  to  sus- 
pect a  meeting  there !  No  law  in  any  other  case  like 
this !  As  if  to  worship  God  without  those  additions, 
which  were  confessed  unnecessary,  were  a  greater 
crime  than  theft,  felony,  murder,  or  treason !  Is  it  for 
our  reputation  to  posterity,  that  the  memory  of  such  a 
law  should  be  continued  1 

'  And  are  we  not  yet  awakened,  and  our  eyes  opened 
enough  to  see,  that  the  making  and  execution  of  the  laws, 
by  which  we  have  suffered  so  deeply  for  many  by-past 
years,  was  only,  that  protestants  might  destroy  protestants, 
and  the  easier  work  be  made  for  the  introduction  of  po- 
pery, that  was  to  destroy  the  residue  1 

'  Nor  can  any  malice  deny,  or  ignorance  of  observing 
Englishmen  overlook,  this  plain  matter  of  fact.  After 
the  dissolution  of  that  before-mentioned  parliament, 
dissenters  were  much  caressed,  and  endeavoured  to  be 
drawn  into  a  subserviency  to  the  court  designs,  espe- 
cially in  the  election  of  after-parliaments.  Notwith- 
standing which,  they  every  where  so  entirely  and 
unanimously  fell  in  with  the  sober  part  of  the  nation, 
in  the  choice  of  such  persons  for  the  three  parliaments 
that  next  succeeded,  (two  held  at  Westminster,  and  that 
at  Oxford,)  as  it  was  known  would,  and  who  did,  most 
generously  assert  the  liberties  of  the  nation,  and  the 
protestant  religion.  Which  alone  (and  not  our  mere  dis- 
sent from  the  church  of  England  in  matters  of  religion, 
wherein  Charles  II.  was  sufficiently  known  to  be  a 
prince  of  great  mdifferency)  drew  upon  us,  soon  afler 
the  dissolution  of  the  last  of  those  parliaments,  that 
dreadfi\l  storm  of  persecution,  that  destroyed  not  a  small 
number  of  lives  in  gaols,  and  ruined  multitudes  of  fa- 
milies. 

'  Let  English  freemen  remember,  what  they  cannot 
but  know,  that  it  was  for  our  firm  adherence  to  the 


civil  interests  of  the  nation,  (not  for  our  different  modes 
of  religion  from  the  legal  way,  though  the  laws  gave 
that  advantage  against  us,  which  they  did  not  against 
others,)  that  we  endured  the  calamities  of  so  many 
years. 

'  When  by  the  late  king  some  relaxation  was  given  us, 
what  arts  and  insinuations  have  been  used  with  us,  to 
draw  us  into  a  concurrence  to  designs  tending  to  the  pre- 
judice of  the  nation!  And  with  how  little  effect  upon 
the  generality  of  us,  it  must  be  great  ignorance  not  to 
know,  and  great  injustice  to  deny. 

'But  he  that  knoweth  all  things,  knoweth  that  though, 
in  such  circumstances,  there  was  no  opportunity  for  our 
receiving  public  and  authorized  promises,  when  we 
were  all  under  the  eye  of  watchful  jealousy ;  yet  as  great 
assurances  as  were  possible,  were  given  us  by  some  that 
we  hope  will  now  remember  it,  of  a  future  established 
security  from  our  former  pressures.  We  were  told  over 
and  over,  when  the  excellent  Heer  Fagel's  letter  came 
to  be  privately  communicated  from  hand  to  hand,  how 
easily  better  things  would  be  had  for  us,  than  that  encou- 
raged papists  to  expect,  if  ever  that  happy  change  should 
be  brought  about,  which  none  have  now  beheld  with 
greater  joy  than  we. 

'  We  are  loth  to  injure  those  who  have  made  us  hope 
for  better,  by  admitting  a  suspicion  that  we  shall  now 
be  disappointed  and  deceived,  (as  we  have  formerly 
been,  and  we  know  by  M'hom,)  or  that  we  shall  suffer 
from  them  a  religious  slavery,  for  whose  sakes  we  have 
suffered  so  grievous  things,  rather  than  do  the  least 
thing  that  might  tend  to  the  bringing  upon  them  a  civil 
slavery. 

'  We  cannot  but  expect  from  Englishmen  that  they  be 
just  and  true.  We  hope  not  to  be  the  only  instances 
whereby  the  Anglica  fides  and  the  P^t?^^ca  shall  be  thought 
all  one. 

'  But  if  we,  who  have  constantly  desired,  and  as  we 
have  had  opportunity  endeavoured  the  saving  of  the  na- 
tion, must  however  be  ruined,  not  to  greaten  (one  hair) 
the  wealth  and  dignity  of  it,  but  only  to  gratify  the  hu- 
mour of  them  who  would  yet  destroy  it ;  we,  who  are 
competently  inured  to  sufferings,  shall  through  God's 
mercy  be  again  enabled  to  endure:  but  he  that  sits  in  the 
heavens,  will  in  his  own  time  judge  our  cause,  and  we 
will  wait  his  pleasure;  and  we  hope  suffer  all  that  can  be 
inflicted,  rather  than  belraj'  the  cause  of  reformed  Chris- 
tianity in  the  world. 

'  But  our  affairs  are  in  the  hands  of  men  of  worth 
and  honour,  who  apprehend  how  little  grateful  a  name 
they  should  leave  to  posterity,  or  obtain  now  with  good 
men  of  any  persuasion,  if,  under  a  pretence  of  kindness 
to  us,  they  should  now  repeat  the  arts  of  ill  men,  in  an 
ill  time.  Great  minds  will  think  it  beneath  them  to 
sport  themselves  with  their  own  cunning,  in  deceiving 
other  men;  which  were  really  in  the  present  case  too 
thin  not  to  be  seen  through,  and  may  be  the  e^v  at- 
tainment of  any  man,  that  hath  enough  of  opportunity, 
and  integrity  little  enough  for  such  purposes.  And 
'tis  as  much  too  gross  to  endeavour  to  abuse  the  au- 
thority of  a  nation,  by  going  about  to  make  that  stoop 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


to  so  mean  a  thing,  as  to  make  a  show  of  intending  what 
they  resolve  to  their  utmost  shall  never  be. 

'  But  some  may  think,  by  concessions  to  us,  the  church 
of  England  will  be  ruined,  and  a  great  advantage  given 
to  the  bringing  in  of  poper}\ 

'  To  which  we  say,  the  generality  of  the  dissenters 
differ  from  the  church  of  England,  in  no  substantials 
of  doctrine  and  worship,  no  nor  of  government,  provided 
it  be  so  managed,  as  to  attain  its  true  acknowledged  end : 
the  favouring  of  us  therefore  will  as  much  ruin  the 
church,  as  its  enlargement  and  additional  strength  will 
signify  to  its  ruin. 

'  And  doth  not  the  world  know,  that  wherein  we  differ 
from  them,  we  differ  from  the  papists  tool  And  that 
for  the  most  part,  wherein  they  differ  from  us,  they  seem 
to  agree  with  them  1 

'  We  acknowledge  their  strong,  brave,  and  prosperous 
opposition  to  popery:  but  they  have  opposed  it  by  the 
things  wherein  they  agree  with  us.  Their  differences 
from  us  are  no  more  a  fence  against  popery,  than  an  en- 
closure of  straw  is  against  a  flame  of  fire. 

'  But  'tis  wont  to  be  said,  we  agree  not  among  our- 
selves, and  know  not  what  we  would  have. 
*  '  And  do  all  that  go  under  the  name  of  the  church  of 
England  agree  among  themselves  1  We  can  show  more 
considerable  disagreements  among  them,  than  any  can 
between  the  most  of  us  and  a  considerable  part  of  them. 
They  all  agree,  'tis  true,  in  conformity ;  and  we  all  agree 
in  non-conformity.  And  is  not  this  merely  accidental 
to  Christianity  and  protestantism '?  and  herein  is  it  not 
well  known  that  the  far  greater  part  of  reformed  Chris- 
tendom do  more  agree  with  us  1 

'  An  arbitrary  line  of  uniformity  in  some  little  acci- 
dents, severs  a  small  part  of  the  Christian  world  from 
all  the  rest.  How  unreasonably  is  it  expected  that 
therefore  all  the  rest  must  in  every  thing  else  agree 
among  themselves!  Suppose  any  imaginary  line  to  cut 
off  a  little  segment  from  any  part  of  the  terrestrial 
globe  ;  'tis  as  justly  expected  that  all  the  rest  should  be 
of  one  mind.  If  one  part  of  England  be  tailors,  they 
might  as  well  expect  that  all  the  people  besides  should 
agree  to  be  of  one  profession. 

'Perhaps  some  imagine  it  dishonourable  to  such  as 
have  gone  before  them  in  the  same  ecclesiastical  stations 
and  dignities,  if  now  any  thing  should  be  altered,  which 
their  judgment  did  before  approve  and  think  fit. 

'  But  we  hope  that  temptation  will  not  prove  invincible, 
viz.  of  so  excessive  a  modesty  as  to  be  afraid  of  seeming 
wiser,  or  better  natured,  or  of  a  more  Christian  temper 
than  their  predecessors. 

'  But  the  most  of  us  do  agree  not  only  with  one  ano- 
ther, but,  in  the  great  things  above  mentioned,  with  the 
church  of  England  too  :  and  in  short,  that  the  reproach 
may  cea.se  for  ever  with  those  that  count  it  one,  they  will 
find  with  us,  when  they  please  .to  try,  a  very  extensive 
agreement  on  the  terms  of  King  Charles  II.'s  declaration 
about  ecclesiastical  affairs,  in  1660. 

'  Qu.  4.  Whether  it  be  reasonable  to  exclude  all  that  in 
every  thing  conform  not  to  the  church  of  England,  from 
any  part  or  share  of  the  civil  power  1 


'  A71S.  The  difference  or  nonconformity  of  many  is  so 
minute,  that  it  would  be  as  reasonable  to  exclude  all 
whose  hair  is  not  of  this  or  that  colour.  And  what  if 
we  should  make  a  distermination,  by  the  decision  this 
way  or  that  of  any  other  disputed  question,  that  may  be 
of  as  small  concernment  to  religion '(  suppose  it  be  that 
of  eating  blood,  for  the  decision  whereof  one  way,  there 
is  more  pretence  from  God's  word,  than  for  any  point  of 
the  disputed  conformity :  would  it  not  be  a  wise  constitu- 
tion, that  whosoever  thinks  it  lawful  to  eat  black-pudding, 
shall  be  capable  of  no  office,  &c. 

'  But  we  tremble  to  think  of  the  exclusive  sacramental 
test,  brought  down  as  low  as  to  the  keeper  of  an  ale- 
house. Are  all  fit  to  approach  the  sacred  table,  whom 
the  fear  of  ruin  or  hope  of  gain  may  bring  thither  1  We 
cannot  but  often  remember  with  horror,  what  happened 
three  or  four  years  ago.  A  man  that  led  an  ill  life,  but 
frequented  the  church,  was  observed  not  to  come  to  the 
sacrament,  and  pressed  by  the  officers  to  come  ;  he  yet 
declined,  knowing  himself  imfit ;  at  length,  being  threat- 
ened and  terrified,  he  came;  but  said  to  some  present 
at  the  time  of  the  solemn  action,  that  he  came  only  to 
avoid  being  undone,  and  took  them  to  witness  that 
what  he  there  received,  he  took  only  as  common  bread 
and  wine,  not  daring  to  receive  them  as  the  body  and 
blood  of  Christ.  'Tis  amazing,  that  among  Chris- 
tians, so  venerable  an  institution  should  be  prostituted  to 
the  serving  of  so  mean  purposes,  and  so  foreign  to  its 
true  end !  and  that  doing  it  after  the  maimer  of  the 
church  of  England  must  be  the  qualification !  as  if  Eng- 
land were  another  Christendom;  or  it  were  a  greater 
thing  to  conform  in  every  punctilio  to  the  rules  of  this 
church,  than  of  Christ  himself! 

'  But  we  would  fain  know  whose  is  that  holy  table  1 
is  it  the  table  of  this  or  that  party,  or  the  Lord's  table  1 
if  the  Lord's,  are  not  persons  to  be  admitted  or  excluded 
upon  his  terms  1  Never  can  there  be  union  or  peace  in 
the  Christian  world  till  we  take  down  our  arbitrary  en- 
closures, and  content  ourselves  with  those  which  our 
common  Lord  hath  set.  If  he  falls  under  a  curse  that 
alters  a  man's  landmark,  to  alter  God's  is  not  likely  to 
infer  a  blessing. 

'  The  matter  is  clear  as  the  light  of  the  sim,  that  as 
many  persons  of  excellent  worth,  sobriety,  and  godli- 
ness, are  entirely  in  the  commimion  of  the  church  of 
England,  so  there  are  too  many  of  a  worse  character, 
that  are  of  it  too ;  and  divers  prudent,  pious,  and  sober- 
minded  persons  that  are  not  of  it.  Let  common  reason 
be  consulted  in  this  case.  Suppose  the  tables  turned, 
and  that  the  rule  were  to  be  made  the  contrary  way, 
viz.  that  to  do  this  thing,  but  not  by  any  means  after 
the  manner  of  the  church  of  England,  were  to  be  the 
qualification:  and  now  suppose  one  of  meaner  endow- 
ments, as  a  man  and  a  Christian,  do  what  is  required, 
and  not  in  the  way  of  the  church  of  England ;  and 
another  that  is  of  much  better,  does  the  same  thing  in 
that  way;  were  it  suitable  to  prudence  or  justice,  that 
because  it  is  done  after  the  way  of  the  church  of  Eng- 
land, a  fitter  man  should  be  reckoned  unqualified  1  and 
one   of  less   value  be   taken   for   qualified,   because  he 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


does  it  a  different  way  1  Then  Ls  all  that  soiid  weight  of 
wisdom,  diligence,  sobriety,  and  goodness,  to  be  weighed 
down  by  a  feather. 

'  It  must  surely  be  thought  the  prudence  of  any  go- 
vernment, to  comprehend  as  many  useful  persons  as  it 
can,  and  no  more  to  deprive  itself  of  the  service  of  such 
for  any  thing  less  considerable  than  those  qualifications 
are,  by  which  they  are  useful,  than  a  man  would  tear 
off  from  himself  the  limbs  of  his  body,  for  a  spot  on  the 
skin. 

'  And  really  if,  in  our  circumstances,  we  thus  narrow 
our  interest,  all  the  rest  of  the  world  will  say,  that  they 
who  would  destroy  us,  do  yet  find  a  way  to  be  our  in- 
structors, and  our  common  enemies  do  teach  us  our 
politics. 

'  P.  S.  The  names  of  Mr.  Hale,  of  Eton  college, 
and  of  a  later  most  renowned  bishop  of  the  church  of 
England,  who  asserted  this  principle,  that  "  if  things  be 
imposed  under  the  notion  of  indifferent,  which  many 
think  sinful,  and  a  schism  follow  thereupon,  the  imposers 
are  the  schismatics,"  will  be  great  in  England,  as  long  as 
their  writings  shall  live,  and  good  sense  can  be  understood 
in  them.' 

About  this  time,  some  had  great  expectations  from  the 
meetings  of  the  Ecclesiastical  Commissioners  who  were 
to  prepare  matters  for  the  convocation. »  Mr.  Howe  was 
well  acquainted,  and  had  free  and  frequent  conversation 
with  several  of  them,  but  found  such  a  spirit  had  got 
the  ascendant  among  the  dignified  clergy,  of  whom  the 
convocation  is  made  up,  that  there  was  no  room  for  any 
thing  like  an  accommodation  of  the  matters  in  difference, 
which  he  often  afterwards  lamented,  where  he  could  use 
freedom. 

At  length,  on  May  24th,  this  year,  the  '  Act  for  ex- 
empting their  Majesties'  Protestant  Subjects,  dissenting 
from  the  Church  of  England,  from  the  Penalties  of  cer- 
tain Laws,'  received  the  royal  assent.  The  dissenters 
were  hereupon  contented  and  thankful;  but  the  high- 
flown  clergy  generally  regretted  the  passing  of  this 
act.  The  author  of  the  Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  Dr. 
Robert  South,  owns  in  so  many  words,  that  that  Doctor 
by  no  means  liked  it.y  And  it  was  the  same  as  to  a 
great  many  others  of  his  temper  and  principles.  Se- 
veral years  after.  Dr.  Henry  Sacheverel  being  im- 
peached by  the  Commons  of  England,  the  second  ar- 
ticle of  the  charge  against  him  alleged,  that  he  had 
'  suggested  and  maintained,  that  this  toleration  granted 
by  law,  was  unreasonable,  and  the  allowance  of  it  un- 
warrantable.' (1.)  Upon  which  occasion.  Sir  Peter 
King  (one  of  the  managers  for  the  Commons)  publicly 
declared  '  this  toleration  to  be  one  of  the  principal  con- 
sequences of  the  revolution.'  (2.)  And  the  Lord  Lech- 
mere  (who  was  another)  declared,  '  that  the  Commons 
esteemed  the  toleration  of  protestant  dissenters  to  be 
one  of  the  earliest  and   happiest  effects  of  the  revolu- 


X  See  a  particular  account  of  the  proceedings  of  these  comniissioners,  m  the 
Abndginent  of  Mr.  Baxter's  Life,  vol.  i.  p.  452. 

y  Page  116. 

z  (1.)  Trial  of  Dr  Henry  Sacheverel,  p.  4.  (2.)  Trial,  p.  T?.  (3.)  Trial,  p.  24. 
(4  )  Trial,  p  91.     (5.)  Trial,  p.  49. 

a  Mr.  Matthew  Henry,  in  his  short  account  of  the  Life  of  Mr.  Riclianl  Stret- 


tion,  wisely  calculated  for  the  support  and  strengthen- 
ing the  protestant  interest,  the  great  end  of  the  revolu- 
tion itself.'  (3.)  And  Mr.  Cowper  (who  was  also 
another)  owned,  that  '  this  indulgence  was  required  from 
the  legislators,  as  they  were  Christians,  and  as  they 
were  men  professing  humanity  and  good-will  towards 
one  another.'  (4.)  And  the  attorney-general  said,  that 
this  was  '  one  of  the  most  necessary  acts  for  the  good  of 
the  kingdom.'  (5.)  And  hereupon.  Dr.  Sacheverel's  doc- 
trine of  wholesome  severities  was  publicly  branded. ^ 

In  order  to  the  preventing  (if  it  might  be)  flights  of 
this  kind,  or  any  thing  that  might  be  extravagant  in 
the  opposite  extreme,  Mr.  Howe  verj'  prudently,  soon 
after  the  toleration  act  passed,  published  another  sheet 
of  paper,  which  he  intituled,  '  Humble  Requests  both  to 
Conformists  and  Dissenters  touching  their  Temper  and 
Behaviour  toward  each  other,  upon  the  lately  passed 
Indulgence.''^  And  this  also  deserves  to  be  preserved  to 
posterity. 

It  is  there  moved, 

'  1.  That  we  do  not  oveivrasignify  our  differences,  or 
coimt  them  greater  than  they  really  are.  I  speak  now 
(saj's  Mr.  Howe)  of  the  proper  differences  which  the 
rule  itself  makes,  to  which  the  one  sort  conforms,  and 
the  other  conforms  not.  Remember  that  there  are  dif- 
ferences on  both  parts,  among  themselves,  incompar- 
ably greater  than  these,  by  which  the  one  sort  differs 
from  the  other.  There  are  differences  in  doctrinal  sen- 
timents that  are  much  greater.  How  inconceivably 
greater  is  the  difference  between  good  men  and  bad ! 
between  being  a  lover  of  the  blessed  God,  the  Lord  of 
heavren  and  earth,  and  an  enemy !  a  real  subject  of 
Christ,  and  of  the  devil !  Have  we  not  reason  to  ap- 
prehend there  are  of  both  these,  on  each  side  1  Let  us 
take  heed  of  having  our  minds  tinctured  with  a  wrong 
notion  of  this  matter,  as  if  this  indulgence  divided 
England  into  two  Christendoms,  or  distinguished  rather 
between  Christians  and  Mahometans,  as  some  men's 
Cyclopic  fancies  have  an  tmlucky  art  to  represent 
things ;  creating  ordinary  men  and  things  into  monsters 
and  prodigious  shapes  at  their  own  pleasure.  It  has 
been  a  u.sual  sajing  on  both  sides,  that  they  were  (in  com- 
parison) but  little  things  we  differed  about,  or  circum- 
stantial things.  Let  us  not  unsay  it,  or  suffer  a  habit  of 
mind  to  slide  into  us,  that  consists  not  with  it.  Though 
we  must  not  go  against  a  judgment  of  conscience  in  the 
least  thing,  yet  let  us  not  confound  the  true  differences 
of  things,  but  what  are  really  lesser  things,  let  them  go 
for  such. 

'  2.  Let  us  hereupon  carefully  abstain  from  judging 
each  other's  state  God-ward  upon  these  differences :  for 
hereby  we  shall  both  contradict  our  common  rule,  and 
ourselves.  When  men  make  conscience  of  small  and 
doubtful  things  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  other,  about 
which    they   differ,  blessed    Grod,    how  little    conscience 


ton,  that  is  subjoined  to  his  Funeral  Sermon  for  liim.  n.«crihes  this  paper  to  Mr. 
Strettoii.  and  intimatei!  that  he  had  it  from  a  near  relation  of  his.  Iliat  he  was 
tlie  author  of  it :  but  this  I  have  goo<i  reason  to  lirliovc  to  have  lieen  a  mistake. 
Few  I  ha'  have  any  taste  of  styles,  can  question  it  to  have  been  Mr  Howe's. 
when  DMco  they  have  read  it.  But  I  can  add  in  this  case,  that  I  have  had  fuL 
assurance  from  Mr.  Howe's  family,  that  he  was  the  real  auUior  of  it. 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


is  made  of  the  plainest  and  most  important  rule,  not  to 
judge  one  another  for  such  differences,  Rom.  xiv.  3,  13. ! 
Why  of  all  the  parts  of  that  holy  book,  is  this  chapter 
only  thought  no  part  of  God's  wordl  or  this  precept, 
so  variously  enforced  in  this  chapter,  and  so  awfully, 
ver.  10,  11.  'But  why  dost  thou  judge  thy  brother  1 
or  why  dost  thou  set  at  nought  thy  brother  1  We  shall 
all  stand  before  the  judgment-seat  of  Christ.  For  it  is 
written,  As  I  live,  saith  the  Lord,  every  knee  shall  bow 
to  me,  and  every  tongue  shall  confess  to  me!  Is  it  a 
light  matter  to  usurp  the  throne  of  Christ,  the  judg- 
ment-seat of  God  1  Yet  how  common  has  it  been  to 
oay.  Such  a  one  conforms,  he  hath  nothing  of  God  in 
him  !  such  a  one  conforms  not ;  'tis  not  conscience,  but 
humour  !  Grod  forgive  both.  Had  they  blotted  Rom. 
xiv.  out  of  their  Bibles  1  'Tis  plain  by  the  whole  series 
of  discourse,  that  it  is  the  judging  of  men's  states,  and  that 
by  such  small  matters  of  difference,  that  is  the  thing  here 
forbidden.  Some  [ew  ihmgs  contained  in  this  chapter, 
as,  to  receive  one  another,  (as  Christians,  or  such  whom 
God  receives,)  notwithstanding  remaining  doubts  about 
small  matters,  and  not  determining  such  doubled  things 
in  bar  to  the  doubter,  ver.  1,  2,  3.  and  not  to  lay  stum- 
bling blocks  in  each  other's  way,  ver.  13.  not  to  do  the 
doubted  thing  with  a  mind  still  unsatisfied,  ver.  5,  23. 
not  to  censure,  eit^<?r  him  that  does  or  forbears ;  not  ad- 
mitting a  hard  thought  of  him,  or  less  favourable,  than 
that  whai  su'-h  an  one  does,  he  does  to  the  Lord,  and 
what  the  «<her  forbears,  he  forbears  to  the  Lord,  ver.  6. 
Thfse  <ew  things,  I  say,  put  in  practice,  had  taken  away 
all  'lifferences,  (that  we  are  now  considering,)  or  the  in- 
convenience of  them,  long  ago.  And  we  shall  still  need 
them  as  much  as  ever. 

'  3.  Let  us  not  value  ourselves  upon  being  of  this  or 
that  side  of  the  severing  line.  'Tis  Jewish,  yea,  pha- 
risaical,  to  be  conceited,  and  boast  ourselves  upon  ex- 
ternals, and  small  matters,  especially  if  arbitrarily  taken 
up;  and  is  itself  an  argument  of  a  light  mind,  and  in- 
comprehensive  of  true  worth.  Though  I  cannot  sin- 
cerely be  of  this  or  that  way,  but  I  must  think  myself 
in  the  right  and  others  in  the  wrong  that  differ  from 
me,  yet  I  ought  to  consider,  this  is  but  a  small  minute 
thing,  a  point  compared  with  the  vast  orb  of  know- 
ables,  and  of  things  needful,  and  that  ought  to  be 
known.  Perhaps  divers  that  difier  from  me,  are  men 
of  greater  and  more  comprehensive  minds,  and  have 
been  more  employed  about  greater  matters ;  and  many 
in  things  of  more  importance,  have  much  more  of  valu- 
able and  useful  knowledge  than  I.  Yea,  and  since 
these  are  not  matters  of  salvation  we  differ  about,  .so 
that  any  on  either  side  dare  considerately  say,  he  can- 
not be  saved,  that  is  not  in  these  respects  of  my  mind 
and  way ;  he  may  have  more  of  sanctifying  savoury 
knowledge,  more  of  solid  goodness,  more  of  grace  and 
real  sanctity  than  I;  the  course  of  his  thoughts  and 
studies  having  been  by  converse  and  other  accidents 
led  more  off  from  these  things,  and  perhaps  by  a  good 
principle  been  more  deeply  engaged  about  higher  mat- 
ters: for  no  man's  mind  is  able  equally  to  consider  all 
hings  fit  to  be  considered  :   and  greater   things  are  of 


themselves  more  apt  to  beget  holy  and  good  impressions 
upon  our  spirits,  than  the  minuter  and  more  circumstan- 
tial things,  though  relating  to  religion,  can  be. 

'  4.  Let  us  not  despise  one  another  for  our  differing  in 
these  lesser  matters.  This  is  too  common,  and  most  na- 
tural to  that  temper  that  offends  against  the  foregoing 
caution.  Little-spirited  creatures  valuing  themselves  for 
small  matters,  must  consequently  have  them  in  contempt 
that  want  what  they  coimt  their  own  only  excellency. 
He  that  hath  nothing  wherein  he  places  worth  belong- 
ing to  him,  besides  a  flaunting  peruke  and  a  laced  suit, 
must  at  all  adventures  think  very  meanly  of  one  in  a  plain 
garb.  Where  we  are  taught  not  to  judge,  we  are  forbid- 
den to  despise  or  set  at  nought  one  another  upon  these 
little  differences. 

'  5.  Nor  let  us  wonder  that  we  differ.  Unto  this  we 
are  too  apt,  i.  e.  to  think  it  strange,  (especially  upon  some 
arguing  of  the  difference,)  that  such  a  man  should  con- 
form, or  such  a  one  not  conform.  There  is  some  fault 
in  this,  but  which  proceeds  from  more  faulty  causes. 
Pride,  too  often,  and  an  opinion  that  we  understand  so 
well,  that  a  wrong  is  done  us  if  our  judgment  be  not 
made  a  standard  and  measure  to  another  man's.  And 
again,  ignorance  of  human  nature,  or  inconsiderateness 
rather,  how  mysterious  it  is,  and  how  little  can  be 
known  of  it;  how  secret  and  latent  little  springs  there 
are  that  move  this  engine  to  our  own  mind  this  way 
or  that ;  and  what  bars  (which  perhaps  he  discerns  not 
himself)  may  obstruct  and  shut  up  towards  us  another 
man's.  Have  we  not  frequent  instances  in  other 
common  cases,  how  difficult  it  is  to  speak  to  another 
man's  understanding  1  Speech  is  too  penurious,  not  ex- 
pressive enough.  Frequently,  between  men  of  sense, 
much  more  time  is  taken  up  in  explaining  each  other's 
notions,  than  in  proving  or  disproving  them.  Nature 
and  our  present  state,  have  in  some  respects  left  us 
open  to  God  only,  and  made  us  inaccessible  to  one  ano- 
ther. Why  then  should  it  be  strange  to  me,  that  I 
cannot  convey  my  thought  into  another's  mind  1  'Tis 
unchristian  to  censure,  as  before,  and  say.  Such  a  one 
has  not  my  conscience,  therefore  he  has  no  conscience 
at  all:  and  it  is  also  unreasonable  and  rude  to  say, 
Such  a  one  sees  not  with  my  eyes,  therefore  he  is  stark 
blind.  Besides,  the  real  obscurity  of  the  matter  is  not 
enough  considered.  I  am  very  confident  an  impartial  and 
competent  judge,  upon  the  view  of  books,  later  and  more 
ancient,  upon  such  subjects,  would  say,  there  are  few 
metaphysical  questions  disputed  with  more  subtlety,  than 
the  controversies  about  conformity  and  nonconformity. 
Blessed  be  God  that  things  necessary  to  the  salvation  of 
souls,  and  that  are  of  true  necessity  even  to  the  peace  and 
order  of  the  Christian  church,  are  in  comparison  so  very 
plain. 

'  Moreover  there  is,  besides  understanding  and  judg- 
ment, and  diverse  from  that  heavenly  gift  which  in  the 
Scriptures  is  called  grace,  such  a  thing  as  gust  and 
relish  belonging  to  the  mind  of  man,  and  I  doubt  not, 
to  all  men,  if  they  observe  themselves ;  and  this  is  as 
unaccountable  and  as  various  as  the  relishes  and  dis- 
gusts of  sense.     This  they  only  wonder  at,  that  either 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


understand  not  themselves,  or  will  consider  nobody 
but  themselves.  To  bring  it  dowTi  to  the  present  case. 
As  to  those  parts  of  worship  which  are  of  most  frequent 
use  in  our  assemblies,  (whether  conforming  or  noncon- 
forming,) prayer,  and  preaching,  and  hearing  God's 
word,  our  diflerences  about  them  cannot  but  in  part 
arise  from  the  diversity  of  this  principle,  both  on  the 
one  hand  and  the  other.  One  sort  do  more  savour 
prayer  by  a  foreknown  form ;  another  that  which  hath 
more  of  surprise,  by  a  grateful  variety  of  unexpected 
expressions.  And  it  can  neither  be  universally  said, 
it  is  a  better  judgment,  or  more  grace,  that  determines 
men  the  one  way  or  the  other ;  but  somewhat  in  the 
temper  of  their  minds  distinct  from  both,  which  I  know 
not  how  better  to  express  than  by  mental  taste,  the  acts 
whereof  (as  the  objects  are  suitable  or  unsuitable)  are 
relishing  or  disrelishing,  liking  or  dislikmg :  and  this 
hath  no  more  of  mystery  in  it,  than  that  there  is  such 
a  thing  belonging  to  our  natures,  as  complacency  or 
displicency  in  reference  to  the  objects  of  the  mind. 
And  this,  in  the  kind  of  it,  is  as  common  to  men,  as 
human  nature,  but  as  much  diversified  in  individuals, 
as  men's  other  inclinations  are,  that  are  most  fixed,  and 
lesist  apt  to  admit  of  change.  Now  in  the  mentioned 
case,  men  cannot  be  universally  determined  either  way, 
by  their  having  better  judgment ;  for  no  sober  man 
can  be  so  little  modest,  as  not  to  acknowledge,  that 
there  are  some  of  each  sentiment,  that  are  less  judicious, 
than  some  that  are  of  the  contrary  sentiment  in  this 
thing.  And  to  say  that  to  be  more  determined  this  way 
or  that,  is  the  certain  sign  or  efiect  of  a  greater  measure 
of  grace  and  sanctity,  were  a  great  violation  both  of 
modesty  and  charit)'^.  I  have  not  met  with  any  that 
have  appeared  to  live  in  more  entire  communion  with 
Grod,  in  higher  admiration  of  him,  in  a  pleasanter  sense 
of  his  love,  or  in  a  more  joyful  expectation  of  eternal 
life,  than  some  that  have  been  wont  with  great  delight 
publicly  to  worship  God  in  the  use  of  our  Common 
Prayer :  and  others  I  have  known,  as  highly  excelling 
in  the  same  respects,  that  could  by  no  means  relish  it, 
but  have  always  counted  it  insipid  and  nauseous.  The 
like  may  be  said  of  relishing  or  disrelishing  sermons 
preached  in  a  digested  set  of  words,  or  with  a  more 
flowing  freedom  of  speech.  It  were  endless  and  odious 
to  vie  either  better  judgments,  or  more  pious  inclina- 
tions, that  should  universally  determine  men  either  the 
one  way  or  the  other  in  these  matters.  And  we  are  no 
more  to  Avonder  at  these  peculiarities  in  the  temper  of 
men's  minds,  than  at  their  different  tastes  of  meats  and 
drinks  ;  much  less  to  fall  out  with  them,  that  their  minds 
and  notions  are  not  just  formed  as  ours  are :  for  we  should 
remember,  they  no  more  differ  from  us,  than  we  do 
from  them;  and  if  we  think  we  have  the  clearer  light, 
'tis  like  they  also  think  they  have  clearer.  And  'tis  in 
vain  to  say.  Who  shall  be  judge  1  for  every  jj^n  will 
at  length  judge  of  his  own  notions  for  himself,  and 
cannot  help  it :  for  no  man's  judgment  (or  relish  of 
things,  which  influences  his  judgment,  though  he  know 
it  not)  is  at  the  command  of  his  will ;  and  much  less  of 
another  man's.     And  therefore, 


'  6.  Let  us  not  be  offended  mutually  with  one  another, 
for  our  different  choice  of  this  or  that  way,  wherein 
we  find  most  of  real  advantage  and  edification.  Our 
greatest  concern  in  this  world,  and  which  is  common  to 
us  all,  is  the  bettering  of  our  spirits,  and  preparing  them 
for  a  better  world.  Let  no  man  be  displeased,  (especially 
of  those  who  agree  in  all  the  substantials  of  the  same 
holy  religion,)  that  another  uses  the  same  liberty,  in 
choosing  the  way  most  conducing  in  his  experience  to 
his  great  end,  that  he  himself  also  uses,  expecting  to  do 
it  without  another  man's  offence. 

'  7.  But  above  all,  let  us,  with  sincere  minds,  more  ear- 
nestly endeavour  the  promoting  the  interest  of  religion 
itself,  of  true  reformed  Christianity,  than  of  this  or 
that  party.  Let  us  long  to  see  the  religion  of  Chris- 
tians become  simple,  primitive,  agreeable  to  its  lovely 
original  state,  and  again  itself;  and  each  in  our  own 
stations  contribute  thereto  all  that  we  are  able,  labour- 
ing that  the  internal  principle  of  it  may  live  and  flourish 
in  our  own  souls,  and  be  to  our  utmo.st  diffused  and 
spread  unto  other  men's.  And  for  its  externals,  as  the 
ducture  of  our  rule  will  guide  us,  so  gradually  bend  to- 
wards one  common  course,  that  there  may  at  length  cease 
to  be  any  divided  parties  at  all. 

'  In  the  mean  time,  while  there  are,  let  it  be  remem- 
bered, that  the  difference  lies  among  Christians  and 
protestants,  not  between  such  and  pagans.  Let  us 
therefore  carry  it  accordingly  towards  each  other ;  and 
consider  our  assemblies  are  all  Christian  and  pro- 
testant  assemblies,  differing  in  their  administrations, 
for  the  most  part,  not  in  the  things  prayed  for  or  depre- 
cated, or  taught,  but  in  certain  modes  of  expression ; 
and  differing  really,  and  in  the  substance  of  things, 
less  by  mere  conformity  or  nonconformity  to  the  public 
rule  of  the  law,  than  many  of  them  that  are  imder  it 
do  from  one  another,  and  than  divers  that  are  not  un- 
der it.  For  instance,  go  into  one  congregation  that  is 
a  conforming  one,  and  you  have  the  public  prayers 
read  in  the  desk,  and  afterwards  a  form  of  prayer  per- 
haps used  by  the  preacher  in  the  pulpit,  of  his  own 
composure,  before  he  begins  his  sermon.  Go  into  an- 
other congregation,  and  prayer  is  performed  without 
either  sort  of  form ;  and  perhaps  the  difference  in  this 
is  not  so  great.  It  may  be  the  conformist  uses  no  pre- 
conceived form  of  his  own,  and  the  nonconformist  may. 
Both  instruct  the  people  out  of  the  same  holy  book  ol 
God's  word.  But  now  suppose  one  of  the  former  sort 
reads  the  public  prayers  gravely,  with  the  appearance 
of  great  reverence,  fervency,  and  pious  devotion;  and 
one  of  the  latter  sort  that  uses  them  not,  does  however 
pray  for  the  same  things,  with  judgment  and  with  like 
gravity  and  Jiffection,  and  they  both  instruct  their 
hearers  fitly  and  profitably ;  nothing  is  more  evident 
than  that  the  worship  in  these  two  assemblies  doth  much 
less  considerably  differ  to  a  pious  and  judicious  mind, 
than  if  in  the  latter  the  prayers  were  also  read,  but  care- 
lessly, sleepily,  or  scenically,  flauntingly,  and  with  mani- 
fest irreverence,  and  the  sermon  like  the  rest ;  or  than  if 
in  the  former,  all  the  performance  were  inept,  rude,  or 
very  offensively  drowsy  or  sluggish. 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


'  Now,  let  us  show  ourselves  men,  and  manly  Chris- 
tians, not  swayed  by  trifles  and  little  things,  as  chil- 
dren by  this  or  that  dress  or  mode,  or  form  of  our 
religion,  which  may  perhaps  please  some  the  more  for 
its  real  indecency :  but  know,  that  if  while  we  continue 
picquering  about  forms,  the  life  be  lost,  and  we  come  to 
bear  the  character  of  that  church,  '  thou  hast  a  name  that 
thou  11  vest,  and  art  dead,'  we  may  e'er  long  (after  all  the 
wonders  God  hath  wrought  for  us)  expect  to  hear  of  our 
candlestick's  being  removed,  and  that  our  sun  shall  go 
down  at  noon-day. 

'  The  true  serious  spirit  and  power  of  religion  and 
godliness,  will  act  no  man  against  his  conscience,  or 
his  rule  understood,  but  will  oblige  him  in  all  acts  of 
worship  (as  well  as  of  his  whole  conversation)  to  keep 
close  to  Gospel  prescription,  so  far  as  he  can  discern  it. 
And  that  he  will  find  requires,  that  in  subordination  to 
the  divine  glory,  he  seriously  design  the  working  out 
the  salvation  of  his  own  soul,  and  take  that  course  in 
order  thereto,  put  himself  under  such  a  ministry,  and 
such  a  way  of  using  God's  ordinances,  as  he  finds  most 
profitable  and  conducing  to  that  great  end,  and  that  doth 
his  soul  most  real  good.  If  you  are  religious,  or  of  this 
or  that  mode  or  way  of  religion,  to  serve  a  carnal  de- 
sign for  yourself  or  your  party,  not  to  save  your  soul, 
you  commit  the  most  detestable  sacrilege,  and  alienate 
the  most  sacred  thing  in  the  world,  religion,  from  its 
true  end  ;  which  will  not  only  lose  that  end,  but  infer 
a  heav-y  vengeance.  Yea,  and  'tis  too  possible  to 
transgress  dangerously,  by  preferring  that  which  is  less, 
though  never  so  confidently  thought  to  be  divine,  be- 
fore that  which  is  greater,  or  separately  from  its  true 
end.  You  greatly  prevaricate,  if  you  are  more  zeal- 
ously intent  to  promote  independency  than  Christianity, 
presbytery  than  Christianity,  prelacy  than  Christianity, 
a.s  any  of  these  are  the  interest  of  a  party,  and  not  con- 
sidered in  subserviency  to  the  Christian  interest,  nor 
designed  for  promoting  the  edification  and  salvation 
of  your  own  soul.  But  that  being  your  design, 
living  religion  will  keep  your  eye  upon  your  end, 
and  make  you  steady,  and  constantly  true  to  that,  and 
to  your  rule,  without  which  you  can  never  hope  to  reach 
your  end. 

'  Now  hereupon  such  as  conform  to  the  public  esta- 
blishment, and  they  that  dissent  from  it,  may  differ 
from  each  other  upon  a  two-fold  account :  either,  (1.) 
as  judging  the  contrary  way  to  be  simply  unlawful ; 
or,  (2.)  as  judging  it  to  be  only  less  edifying.  'Tis  not 
the  business  of  this  paper  to  discuss,  who  herein  judge 
aright,  and  who  wrong ;  but  supposing  their  judgment 
to  remain  as  it  is,  (which  they  themselves  however 
should  examine,  and  if  it  be  wrong  rectify,)  I  shall  say 
somewhat  to  each  of  these  cases. 

'  To  the  former,  Avhile  your  judgment  continues  as 
it  is,  'tis  true  you  cannot  join  in  worship  with  the  con- 
trary minded  :  but  nothing  forbids,  but  you  can  be  kind, 
conversable,  courteous  towards  them  ;  and  your  com- 
mon Christian  profession  (besides  the  rules  of  humanity) 
obliges  you  so  to  be ;  yea,  and  even  to  converse  with 

b  See  tliose  Heads  of  Agreement  at  large,  AljiiJgraent  of  Mr.  Baxter's 
Life,  vol.  i.  p.  476. 


them,  as  occasion  invites,  more  intimately  as  Cnns- 
tians,  the  visible  marks  of  serious  Christianity  appear- 
ing in  them. 

'  To  the  latter  sort  it  is  acknowledged,  you  cannot 
constantly  join  in  worship  with  those  of  the  contrary 
way,  because  you  ought  ordinarily  to  worship  God  in 
that  way  which  you  judge  to  be  best,  and  most 
agreeable  to  the  divine  rule  ;  (though  you  are  not  oblig- 
ed utterly  to  abandon  any  for  its  imperfections  or  cor- 
ruptions, that  is  not  corrupt  in  the  very  essentials ;) 
and  you  ought  most  frequently  to  attend  on  that  which 
you  find  to  be  most  edifying  to  your  own  soul ;  as  that 
should  be  your  more  ordinary  diet  that  best  agrees  with 
you.  That  way  therefore  you  must  most  constantly 
adhere  to,  which  is  most  grateful  and  savoury  to  you ; 
because  you  cannot  so  much  edify  by  what  you  less 
relish.  But  your  judgment  and  latitude  will  well  al- 
low you  sometimes  to  frequent  the  assemblies  with 
which  you  hold  not  constant  commtmion.  And  if  it 
will  allow,  it  will  also  direct  you  thereto  for  a  valuable 
end ;  as  that  you  may  signify,  you  ordinarily  decline 
them  not  as  no  Christians,  or  their  worship  as  no 
worship,  but  Eis  more  defective,  or  less  edifying,  and 
that  you  may  maintain  love,  and  both  express  and 
beget  a  disposition  to  nearer  union.  And  if  our  rulers 
shall  judge  such  intercourses  conducing  to  so  desirable 
an  end,  they  may  perhaps  in  due  time  think  it  reasonable 
to  put  things  into  that  state,  that  ministers  of  both  sorts 
may  be  capable  of  inviting  one  another  occasionally  to 
the  brotherly  offices  of  mutual  assistance  in  each  other's 
congregations.  For  which,  and  all  things  that  tend  to 
make  us  a  happy  people,  we  must  wait  upon  him  in 
whose  hands  their  hearts  are.'' 

Having  brought  down  my  history  thus  far,  I  shall 
not,  in  what  remains,  confine  myself  to  relate  things 
just  as  they  passed  year  by  year,  but  shall  for  brevity 
sake  rather  choose  to  give  an  account  in  the  general, 
of  Mr.  Howe's  conduct  in  the  warm  debates  that  arose 
among  the  dissenting  ministers,  some  time  after  the 
revolution  and  toleration  ;  in  the  controversy  upon 
the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity ;  and  the  dispute  about  oc- 
casional conformity  ;  and  then  shall  add  some  account 
of  his  works  not  yet  mentioned,  and  of  his  last  sickness, 
death  and  burial,  and  his  exemplary  character ;  and 
subjoin  in  the  close  of  my  narrative  (which  I  hope 
cannot  disgust  by  its  length,  when  it  entertains  with 
so  great  variety)  such  letters  of  his,  as  I  have  been  able 
to  recover. 

I  shall  begin  with  the  differences  among  the  dis- 
senting ministers  soon  after  the  revolution,  and  when 
they  had  obtained  a  toleration.  These  were  very  im- 
happy ;  and  the  more  so,  because  they  gave  too  much 
occasion  to  tho.se  to  insult,  who  had  often  said.  Do  but 
let  the^  people  alone,  and  you'll  see,  they'll  soon  fall 
out  among  themselves.  We  may  date  the  rise  of  them, 
from  the  Heads  of  Agreement,  assented  to  by  the  body 
of  the  united  ministersb  in  and  about  the  city,  and  in 
the  several  parts  of  the  coimtry,  which  were  published 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


in  1691.  Mr.  Howe  had  a  considerable  hand  in  draw- 
ing them  up.  The  design  of  them  was  to  bring  those 
that  were  presbyterian  and  those  that  were  congre- 
gational in  their  judgments  to  a  coalition,  that  so  their 
difference  might  for  the  future  be  buried  in  oblivion : 
but  it  so  fell  out,  that  some  few  of  those  who  were  in 
their  judgment  strictly  congregational,  standing  out, 
and  refusing  to  approve  these  heads  of  agreement,  and 
concur  in  the  designed  anion,  plied  their  brethren  who 
were  of  the  same  sentiments  with  him,  who  had  con- 
sented to  the  union,  so  close,  that  they  gave  them  no 
rest,  till  they  broke  off  from  those  to  whom  it  was  in- 
tended they  should  for  the  future  have  been  more 
strictly  united.  It  was  observed  in  Germany,  that 
that  which  they  called  the  Book  of  Concord,  was  the 
occasion  of  great  discord  :<=  so  also,  this  designed 
union  among  us,  was  the  occasion  of  new  divisions  and 
quarrels.  It  was  indeed  at  first  much  applauded,  and 
the  Heads  of  Agreement  were  generally  approved  and 
subscribed,  and  they  who  stj'led  themselves  the  united 
brethren  acted  very  harmoniously,  and  had  weekly 
meetings,  in  which  matters  of  common  concernment 
were  managed  and  adjusted  with  great  imanimity. 
They,  by  consent,  published  a  declaration  against  Mr. 
Richard  Davis,  of  Rothwel,  in  the  county  of  North- 
ampton,d  and  did  several  other  things  that  might  have 
contributed  to  the  keeping  iip  order  and  regularity,  and 
the  making  the  dissenters  appear  a  compacted  body : 
but  at  length  they  had  separate  weekly  meetings,  and 
such  feuds  and  jealousies  arose  amongst  them,  as  issued 
in  a  rupture  that  had  affecting  consequences,  in  which 
it  was  apprehended  that  they  who  never  were  of  the 
union,  had  no  small  hand.  One  great  occasion  of  the 
debates  now  on  foot,  was  the  reprinting  of  the  w^orks 
of  Dr.  Crisp,  (who  was  noted  for  his  antinomian 
notions,  though  reputed  a  very  pious  man,)  with  some 
sermons  added ;  to  which  a  paper  was  prefixed,  sub- 
scribed by  several ;  for  which  a  sort  of  an  apology  was 
afterwards  published,  which  was  prefixed  to  Mr.  John 
Flavel's  discourse,  intituled,  'A  Blow  at  the  Root;  or  the 
Causes  and  Cures  of  mental  Errors.'  Mr.  (afterwards 
Dr.)  Daniel  Williams  wrote  against  the  errors  of  these 
sermons  a  book  intituled,  '  Gospel  Truth  stated  and 
vindicated,'  to  which  also  there  were  several  names 
subscribed ;  and  Mr.  Lorimer  wrote  a  large  apology 
for  those  subscribers ;  and  a  great  variety  of  pamphlets 
were  published  on  both  sides,  which  made  a  great  noise 
and  stir.  And  at  length,  there  came  out  in  1G92  a  paper 
intituled,  '  The  Agreement  in  Doctrine  among  the  Dis- 
senting Ministers  in  London,'  which  was  subscribed  by 
Mr.  Howe  among  the  rest,  but  it  answered  not  the  end  ; 
for  the  debates  were  still  continued." 

One  party  suspected  (or  at  least  pretended  to  suspect) 
the  other  of  verging  too  much  towards  Arminianism, 
and  even  Socinianism ;  and  they  on  the  other  si<le 
charged  them  with  encouraging  antinomiauism.  Seve- 
ral papers  were  hereupon  drawn  up,  and  subscribed,  in 

c  See  Brandt's  Historj'  of  the  Reformation,  in  and  about  the  Low  Countries, 
vol.  i.  book  12.  p.  364. 
d  See  this  Declaration,  Abridsmenf  of  Mr.  Baxter's  Life,  vol.  i.  page  512. 
e  He  tljat  would  see  tliis  controversy  among  the  tosenters  represented 


order  to  an  accommodation  ;  there  was  a  first,  a  second, 
and  a  third  paper,  of  this  sort :  and  these  very  papers 
created  new  altercations  and  debates,  that  were  carried 
on  with  no  small  heat  and  pettishness ;  and  a  number 
that  stood  by,  could  hardly  tell  what  it  was  they  con- 
tended about.  Several  new  creeds  were  framed,  and 
still  objected  against  by  some  or  other,  either  as  too 
large  or  too  strait,  too  full  or  too  empty.  The  world 
wEis  wearied  out  with  pamphlets  and  creed-making, 
and  the  Bishop  of  Worcester  and  Dr.  Edwards  were 
appealed  to,  and  gave  their  judgment ;  and  yet  the 
jealousies  that  were  on  foot  were  so  strong,  that  they 
did  not  of  a  long  time  abate  or  decrease :  and  the  only 
peace  there  was  to  be  foimd,  was  among  a  few  standers- 
b)'-,  who,  without  meddling  with  debates,  amicably 
persuaded  the  contenders,  since  they  could  not  agree 
to  imite,  to  agree  to  differ,  to  lay  aside  their  heat,  and 
speak  as  well  of  each  other  as  they  could.  And  such 
were  the  effects  of  these  brangles  at  that  time,  upon 
the  most  common  conversation,  and  so  odd  do  the  con- 
troversies that  were  then  managed  appear,  if  reviewed 
at  a  distance,  as  to  convince  considerate  observers,  that 
'  there  is  no  such  enemy  to  peace  as  jealousy  encouraged; 
and  that  indulged  suspicion  is  an  endless  fund  of  con- 
tention.' 

I  cannot  help  here  inserting  a  passage  out  of  Bishop 
Stillingfleet  in  his  answer  to  Mr.  Lobb's  Appeal. 
'  There  is  (says  he)  a  remarkable  story  in  the  history 
of  the  s)Tiod  of  Dort,  which  may  not  be  improper  in  this 
place.  There  were  in  one  of  the  universities  of  that 
country  two  professors,  both  very  warm  and  extremely 
zealous  for  that  which  they  accounted  the  most  ortho- 
dox doctrine ;  but  it  happened  that  one  of  these  ac- 
cused the  other  before  the  synod  for  no  fewer  than 
fifty  errors,  tending  to  Socinianism,  Pelagianism,  &c. 
and  wonderful  heat  there  was  on  both  sides.  At  last  a 
committee  was  appointed  to  examine  this  dreadful 
charge,  and  upon  examination  they  found  no  ground 
for  the  charge  of  Socinianism,  or  an)'  other  heres}'^,  but 
only  that  he  had  asserted  too  much  the  use  of  ambigu- 
ous and  scholastic  terms,  and  endeavoured  to  bring  in 
the  way  of  the  schoolmen  in  his  writings ;  and  there- 
fore the  synod  dismissed  him  with  that  prudent  advice, 
rather  to  keep  to  the  language  of  the  Scripture,  than  of 
the  schools. 'f 

But  as  to  Mr.  Howe,  he  had  sufficiently  declared  his 
judgment  with  respect  to  the  matters  which  were  now 
so  eagerly  disputed  on,  in  the  writings  which  he  had 
published ;  and  it  was  his  great  aim  to  keep  things 
from  running  to  extremity.  In  order  to  it,  he  publish- 
ed '  The  Carnalit}'  of  Christian  Contention,'  in  two 
sermons  preached  at  the  Merchant's  Lecture  in  Broad- 
street,  in  1693.  The  preface  to  these  discourses 
'  breathes  so  heavenly  a  charity  and  concern  for  the 
truly  Christian  interest,  that  (as  Mr.  Spademan"  ob- 
serves) a  very  eminent  divine  of  the  established  church 
did  profess  a  willingness   to  lay  down  his  own  life,  if 

at  larirc  would  do  well  to  consult  Mr.  Nelson's  life  of  Bishop  Bull.  p.  2S9. 
260,  261.  &r.. 

f  Bishop  Stillinfffleet's  Works,  vol.  iii.  p.  405,  406. 

g  Funeral  Sermon  for  Mr.  Howe,  p.  1044. 


THE  LIFE  OP  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


such  a  state  of  things  as  is  there  described,  might  obtain 
among  Christians.' 

I  shall  be  at  the  pains  to  transcribe  from  thence  a 
few  remarkable  passages.  He  observes,  '  that  when  in 
one  place  Christians  are  exhorted  to  contend  earnestly 
for  the  faith,  and  are  told  in  another  that  the  servant 
of  the  Lord  must  not  strive,  'tis  plain  there  is  a  conten- 
tion for  religion  which  id  a  duty,  and  a  contention 
even  concerning  religion  which  is  a  sin.  The  servant 
of  the  Lord  must  not  strive,  so  as  to  exclude  gentle- 
ness, aptne-ss  to  instruct,  and  patience :  and  we  are  to 
contend  earnestly  for  the  faith,  but  with  a  sedate  mind, 
full  of  charily,  candour,  kindness,  and  benignity,  to- 
wards them  we  strive  with.  There  is  a  great  differ- 
ence between  the  church's  contention  with  enemies 
without  it,  and  contentions  within  itself.  The  former 
unite  it,  and  increase  its  strength  and  vigour;  the  latter 
divide  and  enfeeble  it.  As  to  those  of  this  latter  kind, 
nothing  is  more  evident,  or  deserves  to  be  more  con- 
sidered, than  that  as  the  Christian  church  has  grown 
more  carnal,  it  hath  grown  more  contentious;  and  as 
more  contentious,  still  more  and  more  carnal.  The 
savour  hath  been  lost  of  the  great  things  of  the  Gospel, 
which  only  afford  proper  nutriment  to  the  life  of  god- 
liness ;  and  it  hath  diverted  to  lesser  things,  about  which 
the  contentious  disputative  genius  might  employ  it- 
self. Thereby  hath  it  grown  strong  and  vigorous,  and 
acquired  the  power  to  transform  the  church  from  a 
spiritual  society,  enlivened,  acted,  and  governed  by  the 
spirit  of  Christ,  into  a  mere  carnal  thing  like  the  rest 
of  the  world.  Carnality  hath  become  its  governing 
principle,  and  torn  it  into  fragments  and  parties,  each 
of  which  will  be  the  church,  enclose  itself  within  its 
own  peculiar  limits,  exclusive  of  all  the  rest,  claim  and 
appropriate  to  itself  the  rights  and  privileges  which  be- 
long to  the  Christian  church  in  common,  yea,  and 
Christ  himself,  as  if  he  were  to  be  so  enclosed  or  con- 
fined. Hence  it  is  said,  Lo  here  is  Christ,  and  there  he 
IS,  till  he  is  scarce  to  be  found  any  where.  And  how 
manifest  are  the  tokens  of  his  displeasure  and  retirement !' 
Hereupon  he  offers  it  to  consideration, 

'  I.  Whether  for  any  party  of  Christians  to  make 
unto  itself  other  limits  of  communion  than  Christ  hath 
made,  and  hedge  up  itself  within  those  limits,  excluding 
those  whom  Christ  would  admit,  and  admitting  those 
whom  he  would  exclude,  be  not  in  itself  a  real  sin  1 
The  holy  table  is  the  symbol  of  communion ;  and  if  it 
be  the  Lord's,  it  ought  to  be  free  to  his  guests,  and  ap- 
propriate to  them.  Who  should  dare  to  invite  others,  or 
forbid  these  7 

'  2.  If  it  be  a  sin,  is  it  not  a  heinous  one  1  Christianitj' 
itself  should  measure  the  communion  of  Christians  as 
such ;  and  visible  Christianity  their  visible  commu- 
nion. Christianity  must  be  estimated  principally  by  its 
end,  which  refers  not  to  this  world,  but  to  the  world 
to  come,  and  a  happy  state  there.  Christians  are  a 
sort  of  men  tending  to  Grod  and  blessedness,  under  the 
conduct  of  Christ,  to  whom  they  have  by  covenant  de- 
voted *hemselves,  and  to  God  in  him.  If  any  society 
of  men  professedly  Christian,  make  limits  of  their  com- 


munion, admitting  those  that  Christ's  rule  excludes, 
and  excluding  them  whom  it  would  admit,  they  break 
Christ's  constitution,  and  set  up  another. — If  they  be 
little  things  only  that  we  add;  the  less  they  are,  the 
greater  the  sin  to  make  them  necessary,  and  hang  so 
great  things  upon  them ;  break  the  church's  peace  and 
rmity  by  them,  and  of  them  to  make  a  new  Gospel, 
new  terms  of  life  and  death,  a  new  way  to  heaven ! 
And  is  in  effect  to  say,  If  you  will  not  take  Christianity 
with  these  additions  of  ours,  you  shall  not  be  Christiajs ; 
you  shall  have  no  Christian  ordinances,  no  Christian 
worship  :  we  will,  as  far  as  in  us  is,  exclude  you  heaven 
itself,  and  all  means  of  salvation  !  If  this  be  sinful,  it  is 
a  sin  of  the  deepest  dye.     But, 

'  3.  If  we  suppose  this  a  sin,  and  a  heinous  one,  how 
far  doth  the  guilt  of  it  spread !  How  few  are  they  that 
lay  their  communions  open  to  visible  Christianity  as 
such,  excluding  none  of  whatsoever  denomination,  nor 
receiving  any  that  by  Christian  rational  estimate  cannot 
be  judged  such ! 

'  4.  How  few  that  consider  this  as  the  provoking 
cause  of  Christ's  being  so  much  a  stranger  to  the 
Christian  church !  and  how  little  is  it  to  be  hoped  we 
shall  ever  see  good  days,  till  this  wasting  evil  is  re- 
dressed !  Carnal  interest  is  the  thing  every  where  do- 
signed  by  one  party  and  another.  The  church  for  13 
or  1400  years  hath  been  gradually  growing  a  multiform, 
mangled,  shattered,  and  most  deformed  thing;  broken 
and  parcelled  into  nobody  knows  how  many  several  sorts 
of  communions.  Not  only  things  most  alien  from  real 
Christianity  are  added  to  it,  but  substituted  in  the  room 
of  it,  and  preferred  before  it ;  yea,  and  things  most  de- 
structive of  it,  indulged  and  magnified  in  opposition  to 
it.  Never  were  there  more  fervent  contentions  among 
all  sorts,  whose  notions,  opinions,  modes,  and  forms  are 
to  be  preferred.  The  word  of  God  tells  us,  that  to  be 
carnally  minded  is  death.  These  contests  seem  there- 
fore to  express  great  solicitude  how  most  neatly  to  adorn 
a  carcass  ;  or  at  best  how  with  greatest  art  and  curiosity 
to  trim  and  apparel  gorgeously  a  languishing  man  in 
the  feared  approaches  of  death,  instead  of  endeavouring 
to  save  his  life. 

'  It  were  a  happy  omen,  if  good  men  could  once 
agree  what  in  particular  to  pray  for.  One  would  think 
it  should  not  be  difficult  to  men  of  sincere  minds,  upon 
serious  consideration  of  the  present  sad  state  of  things, 
to  agree  to  pray  that  the  church  of  Christ  may  be  more 
entirely  one,  and  that  unity  might  be  preserved  in  the 
bond  of  peace,  and  this  in  order  to  its  growth  to  the 
measure  of  the  stature  of  a  perfect  man  in  Christ :  for 
who  sees  not,  that  the  Christian  iirterest  is  naturally 
obstructed  in  its  extensive  growth  by  the  visible  dis- 
union of  the  Christian  community  1  and  penally  too, 
by  the  offence  given  to  the  spirit  of  Christ,  who  there- 
upon in  great  degrees  withdraws  itself?  That  only 
which  the  present  state  of  things  admits  of,  is,  that  we 
keep  ourselves  united  in  mind  and  spirit  with  all  seri- 
ous Christians,  in  the  plain  and  necessary  things 
wherein  they  all  agree ;  and  preserve  a  resolved  unad- 
dictedness    to    any  party   in    the    things  wherein    they 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


xl 


differ.  That  for  actual  local  communion,  we  join  with 
them  that  we  judge  come  nearest  to  our  common  rule ; 
and  labour  to  centre  in  some  such  scheme  of  doctrinals, 
as  may  be  of  use  distinctly  to  inform  others  concerning 
our  sentiments  ;  provided  it  be  avowed  to  be  looked  upon 
but  as  a  mensura  mensurata,  reserving  imto  the  Scriptures 
the  honour  of  being  the  only  7nensura  mcnsurans,  and  so 
that  we  only  own  it  as  agreeable  to  the  Scriptures :  de- 
claring we  take  it  to  be  agreeable  thereto  in  the  main, 
and  for  substance,  without  attributing  a  sacredness  to  the 
very  words  of  a  mere  human  composition,  which  indeed 
we  cannot  attribute  to  the  words  used  in  the  translation 
of  the  Bible  itself,'  &c. 

In  the  two  discourses  that  follow,  he  shows  that  much 
of  a  very  blameable  carnality  may  show  itself  in  and 
about  spiritual  matters,  and  particularly  even  in  defend- 
ing the  truths  of  the  Gospel,  and  that  this  may  be  dis- 
covered by  several  indications. 

And  he  declares  this  to  be  the  case,  '  when  Christians, 
who  are  very  far  agreed  in  the  most  important  things, 
make  little  of  the  things  wherein  they  are  agreed, 
though  ever  so  great,  in  comparison  of  the  much  less 
things  wherein  they  differ:  and,  when  there  is  too 
much  aptness  to  lay  greater  stress  than  is  needful  upon 
such  unscriptural  words,  in  delivering  Scripture  doc- 
trine ;  when  we  consider  with  too  little  indulgence  one 
another's  mistakes  and  misapplications  in  the  use  even  of 
Scripture  words,  placing  them  (as  some  may  do)  upon 
things  to  which  they  do  not  properly  belong,  when  yet 
they  agree  about  the  things  themselves ;  when  there  is 
an  agreement  about  the  main  and  principal  things  that 
the  Scripture  revelation  contains  and  carries  in  it,  but 
there  is  not  that  agreement  about  their  mutual  respects 
and  references  unto  one  another;  and  when  we  are  over- 
intent  to  mould  and  square  Gospel  truths  and  doctrines 
by  human  measures  and  models,  and  too  earnestly  strive 
to  make  them  correspond.' 

He  adds,  '  that  carnality  also  appears,  when  there  is 
a  discernible  proneness  to  oppose  the  great  things  of 
the  Gospel  to  one  another,  and  to  exalt  or  magnify 
one,  above  or  against  another  :  when  any  do  with 
great  zeal  contend  for  this  or  that  opinion  or  notion  as 
very  sacred  and  highly  spiritual,  with  no  other  design 
than  that  under  that  pretence  they  may  indulge  their 
own  carnal  inclination  with  the  greater  liberty :  when  in 
maintaining  any  doctrine  of  the  Gospel  in  opposition 
to  others,  we  industriously  set  ourselves  to  pervert  their 
meaning,  and  impute  things  to  them  that  they  never 
say ;  or  if  we  charge  their  opinions  whom  we  oppose, 
with  consequences  which  they  disclaim  :  when  disputes 
arise  at  length  to  Avrath,  to  angry  strife,  yea,  and  even 
to  fixed  enmity :  when  any  adventure  to  judge  of  the 
consciences  and  states  of  them  whom  they  oppose,  or 
from  whom  they  differ  :  when  we  over-magnify  our  own 
understandings,  and  assume  too  much  to  ourselves  :  and 
then,  finally,  carnality  greatly  shows  itself,  in  an  affecta- 
tion and  desire  of  having  such  disputes  still  kept  afoot, 
and  the  contests  continued,  without  either  limit  or  ra- 
tional design.' 

He  illustrates  each  article  by  suitable  instances ;  and 
4 


then  cries  out,  '  Can  none  remember  when  the  disputa- 
tive  humour  had  even  eaten  out  the  power  and  spirit 
of  practical  religion  and  godliness  1  Thither  things 
are  again  tending,  if,  either  by  severity  or  mercy,  God 
do  not  prevent  and  repress  that  tendency.  As  yet  I 
fear  the  humour  is  violent,  when  the  fervour  of  men's 
spirits  is  such,  as  to  carry  them  over  all  Scripture  direc- 
tions and  animadversions,  that  they  may  signifj'  no- 
thing with  them ;  only  make  it  their  business  each 
one  to  animate  the  more  vogued  champions  of  their 
own  party  into  the  highest  ferments.  Let  us  consider 
we  are  professedly  going  to  heaven.  "We  shall  carry 
truth  and  the  knowledge  of  God  thither  with  us ;  we 
shall  carry  purity  thither,  devoledness  of  soul  to  God 
and  our  Redeemer,  divine  love  and  joy,  with  whatever 
else  of  real  permanent  excellency  hath  a  fixed  seat  and 
place  in  our  souls.  But  do  we  think  we  shall  carry 
strife  to  heaven  1  Shall  we  carry  anger  to  heaven  1 
Envyings,  lieart-burnings,  animosities,  enmities,  hatred 
of  our  brethren  and  fellow-christians,  shall  we  carry 
these  to  heaven  with  us  1  Let  us  labour  to  divert  our- 
selves, and  strike  off  from  our  spirits  every  thing  that 
shall  not  go  with  us  to  heaven,  or  is  equally  unsuitable 
to  our  end  and  way,  that  there  may  be  nothing  to  obstruct 
and  hinder  our  abundant  entrance  at  length  into  the  ever- 
lasting kingdom.' 

But  no "'  reasonings,  expostulations,  or  complaints 
would  avail  to  extinguish  the  flame  that  was  kindled. 
At  length  there  was  a  design  formed  in  1694,  to  ex- 
clude Mr.  Williams  out  of  the  lecture  at  Pinners-Hall ; 
and  then  there  was  a  new  Tuesday  lecture  set  up  at 
Salters-Hall,  and  Dr.  Bates,  Mr.  Howe,  and  Mr.  Alsop 
bore  Mr.  Williams  company  in  this  new  lecture  ;  and 
the  other  two  who  continued  at  Pinners-Hall,  viz.  Mr. 
Mead  and  Mr.  Cole,  had  four  more  joined  to  them.  Mr. 
Howe  in  his  first  turn  at  the  new  lecture  in  Salters- 
Hall,  preached  a  very  affecting  sermon,  from  Isa.  Ixiv.  7. 
And  there  is  none  that  calleth  upon  thy  name,  that 
stirreth  up  himself  to  take  hold  of  thee :  for  thou  hast 
hid  thy  face  from  ixs,  and  hast  consumed  us  because 
of  our  iniquities.  And  after  this,  no  further  attempts 
(as  I  know  of)  were  made  for  a  coalition,  but  the 
heat  and  strangeness  abated  by  degrees,  and  they 
learnt  to  keep  up  a  friendly  correspondence  with  each 
other,  making  allowance  for  a  diversity  of  sentiments, 
but  acting  in  concert  in  all  matters  of  common  concern- 
ment; which  was  by  experience  found  to  be  much 
more  comfortable  than  the  continuance  of  strife  and 
contention,  which  tends  to  confusion,  and  every  evil 
work. 

However,  having  obtained  a  copy  of  a  letter,  written 
by  Mr.  Howe  to  his  dear  and  intimate  friend,  Mr, 
Spilsbury,  (at  his  desire,)  upon  occasion  of  the  setting 
up  another  Tuesday  lecture,  I  shall  here  insert  it,  be- 
cause it  may  help  to  give  some  light  into  this  mat- 
ter. 

London,  April  20,  95. 
'  My  dear  Brother, 
'  YotJ  strangely  forget  yourself,  when  you  say  I  gave 


xlli 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


you  on  account  of  the  Pinners-Hall  business,  of  which 
I  sent  you  a  large  narrative,  when  the  business  was 
recent ;  which  if  it  miscarried,  tell  me  so,  and  I  pro- 
mise you  I  will  never  do  the  like  again:  for  it  is  a 
very  discouraging  thing,  when  it  is  so  hard  a  matter  to 
get  time  to  write  such  long  letters,  to  have  them  lost 
by  the  way ;  or  it  is  not  better,  if  when  they  are  received 
they  are  taken  pro  non  scripiis.  God  knows  how  I 
strove  against  that  division.  Almost  all  my  friends 
that  called  me  to  bear  a  part  in  that  lecture,  perceiving 
the  violence  of  the  other  party,  agreed  to  remove  to  a 
much  more  convenient  place  ;  and  they  were,  so  far  as  I 
can  learn,  the  greatest  part  of  the  ancient  subscribers, 
who  were  grave,  sober  citizens.  They  invited  Mr.  Mead 
as  well  as  me.  If  he  would  not  go,  I  could  not  help 
that.  His  acquaintance  lay  more  among  the  other,  as 
mine  did  with  these.  He  and  they  all  knew  the  many 
meetings  we  have  had  to  prevent  the  breach ;  he  and 
I  with  divers  of  them  on  both  sides.  And  they  (who 
are  now  of  Pinners-Hall)  ran  against  his  advice  and 
mine,  when  they  had  desired  us  to  meet  purposely  to 
advise  them.  He  hath  been  since  as  weary  of  them 
as  others,  as  he  hath  owned  to  me.  They  avowed  it 
for  a  principle  before  we  parted,  they  would  lay  any  of 
us  aside  at  their  pleasure,  without  giving  a  reason  : 
and  were  told  thereupon,  we  would  lay  down  without 
giving  them  a  reason ;  though  I  think  that'  itself  was 
a  sufficient  reason.  They  knew  too,  how  often,  since 
the  lecture  was  broken  into  two,  and  it  appeared  now 
there  were  two  congregations,  which  no  one  place 
could  receive,  I  have  urged,  both  publicly  and  privately, 
that  the  same  lecturers  might  alternate  in  both  places, 
which  would  take  away  all  appearance  of  disunion  ; 
and  who  they  were  only  that  opposed  it.  Upon  these 
terms  I  have  preached  with  them  still ;  but  I  will  not 
be  tied  to  them,  nor  any  party,  so  as  to  abandon  all 
others.  My  frequent  insisting  in  sermons  among  them, 
when  I  saw  whither  things  tended,  that  these  were 
tokens  of  what  was  coming,  (just  as  thou  writest,)  will 
be  thought  on,  it  may  be,  hereafter,  though  then  it  was 
not.  Above  all,  that  which  determined  me  was,  that 
when  I  solemnly  proposed  to  them  in  a  sermon,  the 
keeping  a  fast,  before  they  went  on  to  that  fatal  rupture  ; 
and  it  was  as  solemnly  promised  by  the  chief  of  them 
there  should  be  no  step  further  made  without  a  fast ; 
it  should  be  declined  afterwards.  Hereupon  I  told 
them  in  my  last  sermon  there,  I  should  be  afraid  of 
confining  myself  to  such  as  were  afraid  of  fasting  and 
prayer  in  so  important  a  case,  (repeating  their  own 
good  resolution  to  that  purpose,)  and  began  my  course 
in  the  other  place  with  a  fast,  to  lament  what  we  could 
not  prevent.  These  things  will  be  recollected  another 
day. 

'In  the  mean  time  there  never  was  greater  intimacy 
or  endearedness  between  Mr.  Mead  and  me,  than  now. 
Last  week  he  desired  me  only,  without  any  other,  to 
join  with  him  in  keeping  a  fast  at  his  house,  about  some 
private  affairs  of  his  own,  which  we  did.  I  was  to 
have  preached  at  his  place  to-morrow,  after  my  own 
work   at  home ;  but  present  indisposition  prevents  me 


as  to  both.  We  have  however  agreed  to  exchange  some 
times :  but  this  cannot  last  long.  The  things  that 
threaten  us  make  haste.  Only  let  us  be  found  among 
the  mourners  in  Zion ;  comforts  will  come,  in  this  or 
the  better  world.  I  just  now  heard  from  Mr.  Porter  out 
of  Sussex,  who  inquires  after  thee. 

In  the  Lord,  farewell : 
To  thee  and  thine, 
from  me  and  mine, 
with  most  entire  and 
undecaying  affection, 
J.  H.' 

Great  also' were  the  debates  that  were  at  this  time  on 
foot  about  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity.  Different  eX' 
plications  of  that  doctrine  had  been  published  by  Dr. 
Wallis,  Dr.  Sherlock,  Dr.  South,  and  Dr.  Cudworth, 
and  others ;  and  a  certain  writer  published  considera- 
tions on  these  explications,  which  occasioned  Mr.  Howe, 
in  1G94,  to  publish  a  tract,  intituled,  'A  calm  and  sober 
Inquiry  concerning  the  Possibility  c£  a  Trinity  in  the 
Godhead,  in  a  Letter  to  a  Person  of  worth.'  To  which 
were  added,  some  letters  formerly  written  to  Dr.  Wallis, 
on  the  same  subject. 

In  this  discourse  he  waves  the  question  about  three 
persons  in  the  Deity,  though  he  declares  the  use  of  that 
term  neither  blameable,  nor  indefensible ;  and  only  in- 
quires whether  the  Father,  the  Son  or  Word,  and  the 
Holy  Ghost,  cannot  possibly  admit  of  sufficient  dis- 
tinction from  one  another,  to  answer  the  parts  and 
purposes  severally  assigned  them  by  the  Scripture,  in 
the  Christian  economy,  and  yet  be  each  of  them  God, 
consistently  with  this  indubitable  truth,  that  there  can 
be  but  one  God.  This  he  asserts  to  be  no  absurdity  or 
contradiction. 

He  promises,  that  he  undercaKes  not  to  show  that  the 
Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost  are  three  and  but  one  in 
the  same  respect :  and  that  he  only  designs  to  represent 
this  matter  as  possible  to  be  some  way,  though  not  as 
definitely  certain  to  be  this  way  or  that.  This  being 
done,  he, 

1.  Acknowledges,  that  whereas  we  do  with  greatest 
certainty  and  clearness  conceive  of  the  Deity,  as  an  intelr 
lectual  being,  comprehensive  of  infinite  and  universal 
perfection,  so  do  we  conclude  it  a  being  necessarily  ex- 
istent. He  is  the  I  am :  and  whatsoever  intellectual 
being  is  necessarily  existent  is  divine ;  whereas  whatso- 
ever being  is  contingent,  is  a  creature. 

2.  He  affirms,  that  whatsoever  simplicity  the  ever- 
blessed  God  hath  by  any  express  revelation  claimed  to 
himself,  or  can  by  evident  and  irrefragable  reason  be 
demonstrated  to  belong  tc  him  as  a  perfection,  ought  to 
be  ascribed  to  him :  but  such  simplicity  as  he  has  nol 
claimed,  such  as  can  never  be  proved  to  belong  to  him, 
or  to  be  any  real  perfection,  such  as  would  prove  an  im- 
perfection and  a  blemish,  &c.  we  ought  not  to  ascribe 
to  him. 

3.  He  declares,  that  such  as  have  thought  themselves 
obliged  by  the  plain  word  of  God  to  acknowledge  a 
trinity    in    the  Godhead,    of   Father,    Son,    and    Holy 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


xliii 


Ghost,  but  withal  to  diminish  the  distinction  of  the 
one  from  the  other,  so  as  even  to  make  it  next  to  no- 
thing, by  leason  of  the  straits  into  which  unexamined 
maxims  concerning  the  divine  simplicity  have  cast 
their  minds,  have  yet  not  thought  that  to  be  absolute 
or  omnimodous. 

4.  Since  we  may  offend  very  highly  by  an  arrogant 
pretence  to  the  knowledge  we  have  not,  but  shall  not 
offend  by  confessing  the  ignorance  which  we  cannot 
remedy,  he  infers,  we  should  abstain  from  confident 
conclusions  in  the  dark,  especially  concerning  the 
nature  of  God;  and  from  saying,  we  clearly  see  a 
sufficient  distinction  of  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit  in  the 
Godhead  cannot  be,  or  is  impossible. 

5.  Waving  the  many  artificial  unions  of  distinct 
things,  that  united  and  continuing  distinct  make  one 
^hing,  under  one  name,  he  proposes  only  to  consider 
what  is  natural,  and  instances  in  what  is  nearest  to  us 
in  our  very  selves.  Now  we  find,  as  to  ourselves,  that 
we  are  made  up  of  a  mind  and  a  body ;  somewhat  that 
can  think,  and  somewhat  that  cannot;  sufficiently  dis- 
tinct, yet  so  united  as  to  make  up  one  man.     He  adds, 

6.  That  the  making  up  two  things  of  so  different 
natures  into  one  thing,  was  possible  to  be  done,  since 
it  is  actually  done;  'twas  what  God  could  do,  for  he 
hath  done  it.  And  if  it  be  possible  to  him  to  unite 
two  things  of  so  very  different  natures  into  one  thing, 
'twould  be  hard  to  assign  a  colourable  reason,  wh)''  it 
should  not  be  as  possible  to  him  to  imite  two  things  of 
a  like  nature.     He  argues, 

7.  That  if  such  a  imion  of  three  things,  so  as  that 
they  shall  be  truly  one  thing,  and  yet  remain  distinct, 
though  united,  can  be  affected,  then  it  is  not  intrin- 
sically, or  in  itself,  impossible. 

8.  If  such  a  union  with  such  distinction  be  not  in 
itself  impossible,  'tis  offered  to  consideration,  whether 
we  shall  have  a  conception  in  our  own  mind  any  thing 
more  incongruous,  if  we  conceive  such  a  union,  with 
such  distinction,  unmade  and  eternal,  in  an  immade 
or  uncreated  being. 

9.  Supposing  it  possible  that  three  spiritual  beings 
might  be  in  a  state  of  so  near  union  with  continuing 
distinction,  as  to  admit  of  becoming  one  spiritual  being, 
as  well  as  that  a  spiritual  being  and  a  corporeal  being 
may  be  in  a  state  of  so  near  rmion,  with  continuing 
distinction,  so  as  to  become  one  spiritual  corporeal 
being:  he  queries,  whether  supposing  the  former  of 
these  to  be  as  possible  to  be  done  as  the  latter,  which 
is  done  already,  we  may  not  as  well  suppose  somewhat 
like  it,  but  infinitely  more  perfect,  in  the  uncreated  being  1 

10.  He  affirms,  that  the  union  of  the  two  natures, 
the  human  with  the  divine,  in  one  person  of  the  Son 
of  God,  cannot  appear  to  considerate  persons  more  con- 
ceivable or  possible,  than  the  supposed  union  of  three 
distinct  essences  in  the  one  Godhead. 

11.  He  affirms,  there  is  nothing  in  all  this  repugnant 
to  such  simplicity  as  God  any  where  claims  to  his  own 
being,  or  that  plain  resison  will  constrain  us  to  ascribe 
lo  him,  or  that  is  really  in  itself  any  perfection. 

13.  He  adds,  that  if  we  should  suppose  three  spiritual  J 


necessary  beings,  the  one  whereof  were  mere  power, 
destitute  of  either  wisdom  or  goodness;  another  mere 
wisdom,  destitute  of  either  goodness  or  power ;  and  a 
third  mere  goodness,  destitute  of  either  power  or  wis- 
dom; existing  separately  and  apart  from  each  other; 
this  triple  conception  would  overthrow  itself,  and  could 
allow  little  ease  to  a  considerate  mind;  for  no  one  of 
these  could  be  God:  but  conceiving  essential  power, 
wisdom,  and  goodness  concurring,  in  one  spiritual  ne- 
cessarily existent  being,  and  not  only  permeating  each 
other,  but  really  and  vitally  united,  in  the  most  perfect 
and  intimate  manner,  there  is  nothing  of  repugnancy, 
contradiction,  or  abstxrdity  in  the  matter.  But  then 
'tis  added, 

13.  That  this  is  only  a  possible  supposition,  of  what 
for  ought  we  know  may  be.  This  (he  says)  argues  no 
composition  in  the  being  of  God;  nor  are  we  under 
the  precise  notions  of  power,  wisdom,  and  goodness,  to 
conceive  of  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost. 

14.  This  (he  says)  does  not  make  three  Gods,  it  only 
asserts  so  much  distinction  between  the  Father,  Son, 
and  Spirit,  as  is  necessary  to  the  founding  the  distinct 
attributions  which  in  the  Scriptures  are  severally  given 
them,  without  affirming  they  are  three  distinct  sub- 
stances, three  infinite  minds  or  spirits. 

15.  The  main  thing  (he  says)  we  are  searching  for, 
is  what  the  most  sacred  Godhead  may  be,  to  which  a 
oneness  is  ascribed  with  a  threefold  distinction ;  and 
finding  there  are  in  the  creation  made  imions,  with  suffi- 
cient remaining  distinction,  particularly  in  ourselves,  that 
we  are  a  soul  and  a  body,  that  the  soul  is  called  the  man, 
and  the  body  too ;  we  are  led  to  apprehend  it  more  easily 
possible  there  might  be  two  spirits  so  united  as  to  be  one 
thing,  yet  continuing  distinct ;  and  if  two  there  might  be 
three.  And  if  such  a  made  union,  -with,  continuing  distinc- 
tion, be  possible  in  created  being,  it  may  not  be  impossi- 
ble in  the  uncreated,  that  there  may  be  such  an  eternal 
tmmade  union,  with  continued  distinction. 

16.  The  unity  of  the  Godhead  is  declared  to  be 
salved,  because  the  supposition  takes  in  the  natural, 
eternal,  necessary  union  of  all  the  three :  nor  is  the  God- 
head supposed  more  necessarily  to  exist,  than  these 
three  are  to  co-exist  in  the  nearest  and  most  intimate 
union  with  each  other  therein. 

17.  But  an  hypothesis  in  this  affair,  which  leaves 
out  the  very  nexus,  that  natural,  eternal  union,  or 
leaves  it  out  of  its  proper  place,  and  insists  upon  mutual 
consciousness,  which  is  but  a  consequence  thereof, 
wants  the  principal  thing  requisite  to  the  salving  the 
unity  of  the  Godhead. 

18.  The  order  of  priority  and  posterioritj',  which  the 
names  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit,  do  more  than  intimate, 
is  declared  to  be  this  way  preserved  and  complied  with. 

19.  If  it  is  urged,  that  one  individual  necessarily 
existent  spiritual  being  alone  is  God,  and  is  all  that 
is  signified  by  the  name  of  God;  'tis  answered,  that  if 
by  one  individual  necessarily  existent  spiritual  being, 
either  the  Father,  Son,  or  Holy  Ghost  is  meant,  taken 
sejunctly,  it  is  denied ;  for  both  the  other  are  truly  sig- 
nified by  the  name  of  God  too.as  well  as  that  one. 


xliv 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


20.  If  it  is  further  objected,  that  the  notion  of  God 
is  this  way  made  to  comprehend  Father,  Son,  and  Holy 
Ghost,  and  a  Godhead  besides  common  to  these  three : 
'tis  answered,  that  the  notion  of  God  imports  not  any 
thing  more  of  real  being  than  is  contained  in  Father, 
Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  taken  together,  and  most  inti- 
mately, naturally,  and  vitally,  by  eternal  necessity, 
united  with  one  another.     'Tis  added, 

21.  That  let  such  a  union  be  conceived  in  the  being 
of  God,  with  such  distinction,  and  the  absolute  perfection 
of  the  Deity,  and  the  perfect  felicity  thereof  will  be  the 
more  apprehensible  with  us. 

22.  And  yet  as  to  delight  in  society,  'tis  owned  we 
are  not  strictly  to  measure  God  by  ourselves,,  further 
than  as  he  himself  prompts  and  leads  us. 

23.  However,  'tis  declared,  that  thus  conceiving,  the 
sacred  Triunity  will  be  so  remote  from  any  shadow  of 
inconsistency  or  repugnancy,  that  no  necessity  can  re- 
main upon  us,  of  torturing  wit,  and  racking  invention, 
to  do  a  laboured  and  artificial  violence  to  numerous 
and  plain  texts  of  Scripture,  only  to  undeify  our  glorious 
Redeemer,  and  do  the  utmost  despite  to  the  Spirit  of 
grace,  &e. 

This  inquiry  of  Mr.  Howe's  was  reflected  on  in  a 
'Postscript  to  the  Defence  of  Dr.  Sherlock's  Notion  of 
the  Trinity  in  Unity;'  and  thereupon  he,  in  the  same 
year,  published  a  'Letter  to  a  Friend,  concerning  that 
Postscript.' 

In  this  Letter  Mr.  Howe  inquires,  whether  in  his 
printed  Inquiry  he  had  said  more  than  Dean  Sherlock, 
or  more  than  is  defensible,  of  the  distinction  of  the 
sacred  Three  in  the  Godhead;  and  also,  whether  the 
Dean  had  said  so  much  as  he  had  done,  or  so  much  as 
was  requisite,  of  their  union. 

He  shows  that  the  Dean  must  be  judged,  by  every 
one  that  understands  common  sense,  to  have  heightened 
the  distinction  of  the  three  persons,  at  least  as  much  as 
he  had  done  in  his  Inquiry:  and  that  the  Dean  said  not 
enough  in  his  book  to  salve  the  unity  of  the  Godhead, 
but  ought  to  have  insisted  upon  somewhat  prior  to 
mutual  consciousness,  as  constituent  of  that  unity.  He 
shows  that  he  wrongs  him,  and  wounds  himself;  and 
concludes,  that  since  the  difference  between  the  sacred 
Three,  which  only  proceeds  from  their  natural  eternal 
order,  is  conjecturable  only,  but  is  really  unknown, 
unrevealed,  and  inscrutable,  it  is  better  herein  to  con- 
fess the  imperfection  of  that  knowledge  which  we  have, 
than  to  boast  of  that  which  we  have  not,  or  aspire  to 
that  which  we  cannot  have. 

After  this,  there  came  out  'Some  Considerations  on  the 
Explications  of  the  Doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  in  a  Letter 
to  H.  H.'  And  Mr.  Howe  being  therein  concerned,  in 
1695,  published  '  A  View  of  those  Considerations,  in  a 
Letter  to  the  former  Friend.'  Wherein  he  gives  it  as 
his  judgment,  that  much  service  might  be  done  to  the 
common  interest  of  religion,  by  a  free  mutual  commu- 
nication of  even  more  doubtful  thoughts,  if  such  dis- 
quisitions were  pursued  with  more  candour,  and  with 
less  confidence  and  prepossession  of  mind,  or  addicted- 
h  Page  43. 


ness,  to  the  interest  of  any  party  whatsoever.  If  it 
were  rather  endeavoured  to  reason  one  another  into, 
or  out  of,  this  or  that  opinion,  than  either  by  sophistical 
collusions  to  cheat,  or  to  hector  by  great  words,  one 
that  is  not  of  our  mind.  Or  if  the  design  were  less  to 
expose  an  adversary,  than  to  clear  the  matter  in  con- 
troversy. Besides,  that  if  such  equanimity  did  more 
generally  appear  and  govern  in  transactions  of  this  na- 
ture, it  would  produce  a  greater  liberty  in  communi- 
cating our  thoughts  about  some  of  the  more  vogued 
and  fashionable  opinions,  by  exempting  each  other 
from  the  fear  of  ill  treatment  in  the  most  sensible  kind. 
It  being  too  manifest  that  the  same  confident  insulting 
genius,  which  makes  a  man  think  himself  competent 
to  be  a  standard  to  mankind,  would  also  make  him 
impatient  of  dissent,  and  tempt  him  to  do  worse,  than 
reproach  one  that  differs  from  him,  if  it  were  in  his 
power.  And  the  club  or  faggot  arguments  must  be 
expected  to  take  place,  where  what  he  thinks  rational 
ones  did  not  do  the  business. 

He  declares,  that  the  perusal  of  these  very  consider- 
ations, gave  him  more  confidence  about  his  hypothesis, 
than  he  allowed  himself  before,  finding  that  the  saga/- 
cious  author  of  them,  of  whose  abilities  and  industry 
together  he  really  had  that  opinion,  as  to  count  him  the 
most  likely  to  confute  it  of  all  the  modern  anti-trinita- 
rians,  had  no  other  way  to  deal  with  it,  than  first  both 
partially  and  invidiously  to  represent  it,  and  then 
rather  to  trifle  than  argue  against  it.  And  after  freely 
discoursing  about  the  delicious  society  the  divine  hy- 
postases are  supposed  to  have  with  each  other;  about 
the  union  of  the  sensitive,  vegetative,  and  intellectual 
natures  in  man,  and  the  union  also  of  soul  and  body; 
about  the  union  of  intelligent  beings;  about  heresy, 
infinite  and  infinitude,  essential  and  substantial  unions, 
&c.  he  declares  he  did  not  find  that  that  writer  had  any 
thing  of  argument  in  his  discourse,  which  had  not 
been  before  considered  in  the  discourse  he  had  had 
with  the  considerator ;  and  therefore  he  takes  his  leave, 
and  wrote  no  more  upon  the  argument. 

Mr.  Howe,  as  well  as  others,  in  this  case,  met  with 
very  different  treatment  from  several  persons,  accord- 
ing to  their  different  notions.  He  was  the  more  re- 
spected by  some,  upon  the  account  of  what  he  publish- 
ed on  this  subject,  while  others  that  greatly  valued  his 
other  writings,  wished  he  had  left  this  argument  un- 
touched, and  kept  his  thoughts  to  himself:  and  some, 
out  of  the  abundance  of  their  zeal  for  orthodoxy,  could 
scarce  forbear  charging  him,  as  well  as  Dean  Sherlock, 
with  downright  heresy.  To  whom  I  shall  make  no 
other  return,  than  in  the  words  of  Bishop  Stillingfleet, 
in  his  preface  to  his  '  Vindication  of  the  Doctrine  of 
the  Trinity.'!!  '  There  is  a  kind  of  bitter  zeal,  which  is 
so  fierce  and  violent,  that  it  rather  inflames  than  heals 
any  wounds  that  are  made;  and  is  of  so  malignant  a 
nature,  that  it  spreads  and  eats  like  a  cancer,  and  if  a 
stop  were  not  given  to  it,  it  might  endanger  the  whole 
body.'  May  such  a  zeal  as  this  never  prevail  among 
us:   and  if  it  has  already  got  any  footing,  the  good 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


XlT 


Lord  grant  it  may  be  heartily  and  speedily  repented  of, 
and  shaken  off,  and  laid  aside.    Amen.' 

But  it  seems  necessary  I  should  add  somewhat  upon 
another  subject,  which  also  made  a  great  noise  in  the 
latter  part  of  this  good  man's  life,  and  that  is  the  business 
of  occasional  conformity. 

Mr.  Howe  had  all  along'  from  his  first  quitting  his 
church,  upon  the  taking  place  of  the  Act  of  Uniformity, 
carried  himself  with  great  calmness  and  moderation, 
and  had  openly  declared  for  this  occasional  conformity, 
before  communicating  with  the  established  church  was 
a  necessary  qualification  for  a  place  in  the  magistracy ; 
and  it  was  the  same  also  as  to  a  number  of  his  brethren : 
and  yet  when  the  chief  magistrate  in  the  city  of  Lon- 
don had  carried  the  regalia  to  a  dissenting  congrega- 
tion, it  occasioned  no  small  clamour ;  and  when  a  little 
after  Sir  Thomas  Abney,  who  was  a  worthy  member 
of  Mr.  Howe's  congregation,  (than  whom  none  ever 
filled  the  chair  of  the  city  with  greater  honour,)  went 
publicly  to  worship  God,  (in  1701,  which  was  the  year 
of  his  mayoralty)  sometimes  in  the  established  church, 
and  sometimes  among  the  dissenters,  a  pamphlet  was 
published,  intituled,  '  An  Inquiry  into  the  Occasional 
Conformity  of  Dissenters ;'  in  which  this  practice  was 
represented  as  very  scandalous,  and  a  preface  was  pre- 
fixed to  Mr.  Howe,  in  which  he  was  called  on  either 
to  vindicate  it,  or  declare  against  it.  Mr.  Howe  did 
not  much  care  to  enter  upon  an  argument  of  that  na- 
ture with  one  of  so  warm  a  temper  as  the  author  of  that 
Inquiry,  and  contented  himself  with  a  short  return  to 
him  in  a  small  pamphlet,  that  was  intituled  '  Some  Con- 
sideration of  a  Preface  to  an  Inquiry  concerning  the 
Occasional  Conformity  of  Dissenters :'  in  which  he 
tells  the  prefacer,  that  he  for  a  long  time  had  had  an 
habitual  aversion  in  his  own  mind,  from  perplexing 
himself,  or  disturbing  others,  by  being  concerned  in 
agitating  the  controversies  that  have  been  on  foot  about 
the  circumstantials  of  religion.  That  he  had  contented 
himself,  by  the  best  means  he  could  be  furnished  with, 
and  the  best  use  God  enabled  him  to  make  of  them,  so 
far  to  form  and  settle  his  own  judgment,  as  was  neces- 
sary to  his  own  practice.  That  he  had  faithfully  fol- 
lowed his  judgment,  and  abstained  in  the  mean  time 
ft-om  censuring  others,  who  took  a  different  way  from 
him.  That  he  was  sensible  every  one  must  give  account 
of  himself  to  God  :  and  that  it  is  a  great  consolation 
to  such  as  sincerely  fear  God,  that  if  with  upright 
minds  they  principally  study  to  approve  themselves 
to  him,  and  if  they  mistake,  do  only  err  for  fear  of  err- 
ing ;  he  will  not  with  severity  animadvert  upon  the 
infirmity  of  a  weak  and  merely  misguided  judgment : 
and  that  it  is  a  sure  truth,  worth  all  this  world,  that  to 
an  honest  unbiassed  heart,  'tis  a  far  easier  thing  to  please 
God,  than  men.  That  they  that  contend  fervently  and 
conclude  positively  concerning  church-power,  &c.  often 
discover  more  confidence  than  knowledge  or  solid  judg- 
ment ;  and  much  oftener  little  of  the  spirit  of  Christ  and 
the  Gospel. 

He  further  tells  the    prefacer,  that    before    he    had 
offered  at  engaging  him  in  this  quarrel,  he   ought  to 


have  been  well  assured,  that  he  did  really  concern  him- 
self to  advise  one  way  or  other,  as  to  the  lawfulness 
or  unlawfulness  of  that  occasional  conformitj',  about 
which  he  contended ;  or  at  least  that  he  ought  to  have 
done  so:  but  that  not  being  able  to  make  either  of 
these  appear,  he  had  been  guilty  of  an  affectation  of 
intermeddling  beyond  any  call  he  had,  that  could  lead 
him  to  it.  That  he  had  pretended  to  judge  in  a  matter 
he  had  nothing  to  do  with  ;  and  that  he  had  taken  upon 
him  to  invade  the  throne  of  the  Most  High,  in  charging 
the  worthy  person  referred  to  with  acting  against  his 
conscience.  He  tells  him  that  before  he  concluded  that 
with  so  rash  confidence,  he  ought  to  have  been  able  to 
prove  the  act  in  its  circumstances  unlawful.  And  his 
making  use  of  that  text,  about  following  God  or  Baal, 
as  if  the  God  of  the  dissenters  and  of  the  established 
church  differed  as  the  living  God  and  Baal,  he  tells  him 
was  profane  and  impious  wit.  And  he  at  last  aJJs, 
that  the  person  by  him  criminated,  might,  notwithstand- 
ing any  thing  he  had  said,  be  in  the  right ;  but  if  the 
prefacer's  judgment  upon  the  case  was  true,  he  conceived 
that  the  truth,  accompanied  with  his  temper  of  spirit, 
was  much  worse  than  the  other's  error.  And  some  time 
after,  he  drew  up,  and  there  was  found  among  his  re- 
maining papers, 

'  A  Letter  to  a  Person  of  Honour,  par  tit/  representing  tke 
Rise  of  Occasional  Conformity,  and  partly  the  Sense  of 
the  present  Nonconformists,  about  their  yet  continuing 
Differences  from  the  Established  Church.' 

'  Mt  Lord, 

'Tis  well  known  to  such  as  have  understood  the  state 
of  religion  in  this  kingdom,  since  the  beginning  of  the 
reformation,  that  there  have  been  very  different  senti- 
ments about  the  degrees  of  that  reformation  itselfl 
Some  have  judged  the  church  with  us  so  insufficiently 
reformed,  as  to  want  as  yet  the  very  being  of  a  true 
Christian  church ;  and  wherewith  they  therefore  thought 
it  unlawful  to  have  any  communion  at  all.  Of  whom 
many  thereupon  in  the  several  successive  reigns,  with- 
drew themselves  into  foreign  parts,  for  the  enjojTnent  of 
the  liberty  of  such  worship  as  they  judged  more  agree- 
able to  the  word  of  God. 

'  There  have  been  also  no  inconsiderable  numbers,  la 
former  and  later  times,  that  though  not  entirely  satis- 
fied with  our  reformation,  were  less  severe  in  their 
judgment  concerning  the  constitution  and  practice  of 
the  established  church ;  that  is,  did  not  judge  its  re- 
formation so  defective,  that  they  might  not  commu- 
nicate at  all  with  ,it,  nor  so  complete,  but  that  they  ought 
to  covet  a  communion  more  strictly  agreeable  to  the  Holy 
Scripture ;  and  accordingly  apprehended  themselves  to 
lie  under  a  two-fold  obligation  of  conscience  in  refer- 
ence hereto. 

'  1.  Not,  by  any  means,  totally  to  cut  themselves  off 
on  the  one  hand  from  the  commimion  of  the  establish- 
ed church,  in  which  they  found  greater  and  more  mo- 
mentous things  to  be  approved  of  and  embraced  with 
great  reverence    and  complacency,  (,viz.  all    the  true 


xlvi 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR  JOHN  HOWE] 


noble  essentials  of  Christian  religion,  not  suDvertea  as 
among  the  Romanists  by  any  contrary  doctrines  or  prac- 
tices,) than  could  be  pretended  to  remain  the  matter  of 
»heir  disapprobation  and  dislike. 

'  2.  Nor,  on  the  other  hand,  to  decline  other  commu- 
nion, which  to  the  judgment  of  their  conscience  ap- 
peared, in  some  considerable  circumstances,  more 
agreeable  to  the  Christian  rule,  and  to  their  experience 
more  conducing  to  their  spiritual  advantage  and  edifi- 
cation. 

'  Which  latter  judgment  of  theirs  (whether  itself  jus- 
tifiable or  no  we  are  not  now  considering)  hath  been 
with  many  so  fixed  and  inflexible,  that  in  several  suc- 
cessive reigns,  great  numbers  of  such  persons,  who  we 
had  no  reason  to  apprehend  had  any  thought  totally  to 
abandon  the  established  church,  yet  thought  themselves 
obliged  besides,  to  seek  and  procure  opportunities  for 
such  other  communions,  even  with  extreme  peril,  not 
only  to  their  estates  and  liberties,  but  to  their  very  lives 
themselves. 

'  They  could  not  therefore  but  think  both  these  sorts  of 
communions  lawful,  viz.  whereto  they  might  adjoin,  but 
not  confine  themselves. 

'  And  though  to  that  former  sort  of  communion,  there 
hath  for  many  years  by-past,  been  superadded  the  ac- 
cidental consideration  of  a  place  or  otfice  attainable 
hereby,  no  man  can  allow  himself  to  think,  that  what 
he  before  counted  lawful,  is  by  this  supervening  con- 
sideration become  unlawful :  especially  if  the  office  were 
such,  as  was  in  no  manner  of  way  to  be  an  emolu- 
ment, but  rather  an  occasion  of  greater  expense  to  the 
undertaker  of  it ;  that  is,  only  enabled  him  to  serve  God, 
the  government,  and  his  country,  being  regularly  called 
hereto,  in  the  condition  of  a  justice  of  peace,  or  other- 
wise. In  which  capacity  it  is  notorious  that  divers  per- 
sons of  eminent  note  of  this  persuasion  (and  .some  in 
higher  stations)  have,  within  the  space  of  forty  years 
past  and  upwards,  been  serviceable  to  the  public  in  divers 
parts  of  the  nation. 

'  It  is  not  indeed  to  be  thought  that  the  judgment 
and  practice  of  such  men  can  be  throughout  approved 
by  our  reverend  fathers  and  brethren  of  the  established 
church,  as  neither  can  we  pretend  it  to  be  so  universally 
by  ourselves.  But  we  are  remote  from  any  the  least 
suspicion,  that  persons  of  so  excellent  worth  and  Chris- 
tian temper,  as  now  preside  over  the  established  church, 
can  suffer  themselves  to  judge  or  censure  men  of  this 
sentiment,  as  being  for  this  single  reason  men  of  hypocri- 
tical and  insincere  minds  ;  but  that  they  will  rather  think 
it  possible  their  understandings  may  be  imposed  upon,  so 
as  this  may  be  the  judgment,  in  the  whole,  of  a  sincere 
though  misinformed  conscience. 

'  For  when  they  apprehend  this  church,  having  all 
the  essential  parts  of  Christian  religion,  has  not,  by 
adding  some  much  disputed  things,  that  are  not  pre- 
tended to  be  any  parts  thereof,  (but  that  are  become  as 
necessary  to  communion  with  it,  as  any  of  the  most  es- 
sential part,)  thereby  unchurched  itself,  but  that  they 
may  hold  communion  with  it ;  yet  they  do  not  see  that 
they  ought  to  appropriate  their  communion  to  it,  so  as  to 


refuse  all  other  communion,  where  the  same  essentials  of 
Christian  religion  are  to  be  found  without  those  additions 
which  really  belong  not  to  it ;  they  are  apt  to  think  such 
sentiments  of  theirs  not  to  be  altogether  destitute  of  some 
plausible  ground. 

'  However,  among  those  that  are  not  entirely  in  every 
punctilio  of  this  church,  it  hath  not  any  so  firm  friends,  or 
that  are  so  nearly  united  in  judgment  and  affection  with 
it,  as  men  of  this  sentiment. 

'  We  for  our  parts  (who  because  in  some  things  we 
conform  not,  are  called  nonconformists,  whereas  no 
man  conforms  in  every  thing)  are  not  allowed  to  be 
counted  members  of  this  church,  by  those  that  take 
denominations,  not  from  the  intimate  essentials  of  things, 
(as  sameness  of  doctrine,  and  the  institutions  of  Christian 
worship,)  but  from  loose  and  very  separable  accidents ; 
yet,  thanks  he  to  God,  we  are  not  so  stupid,  as  not  to 
apprehend  we  are  imder  stricter  and  much  more  sacred 
obligations,  than  can  be  carried  under  the  sound  of  a 
name,  to  adhere  to  those  our  reverend  fathers  and  breth- 
ren of  the  established  church,  who  are  most  united  among 
themselves,  in  duty  to  God  and  our  Redeemer,  in  loyalty 
to  our  sovereign,  and  in  fidelity  to  the  protestant  religion, 
as  with  whom  in  this  dubious  state  of  things  we  are  to 
run  all  hazards,  and  to  live  and  die  together.  Whether 
they  can  have  the  same  assurance,  both  from  interest  and 
inclination  of  mind,  concerning  all  that  are  of  the  same 
external  denomination  with  themselves,  they  need  not  us 
to  advise  with. 

'  We  have  our  yet  depending  lesser  diflerences,  about 
which  we  have  (notwithstanding  whatsoever  provoca- 
tion) been  generally  and  for  the  most  part  silent ;  and 
see  not  in  reference  to  them,  what  can  further  remain, 
than  that  we,  for  our  part,  do  consider,  that  all  minds 
are  not  turned  the  same  way  ;  that  such  from  whom  we 
dissent,  no  further  differ  from  us  than  we  do  from  them  ; 
and  we  are  therefore  no  more  to  wonder  at  them,  than 
ourselves. 

'  And  we  cannot  disallow  ourselves  to  hope,  that  our 
reverend  fathers  and  brethren  will  conceive  of  us  as 
humbly  dissenting  from  them,  without  diminution  of 
that  great  reverence  which  their  real  worth  claims 
from  us,  and  without  arrogating  any  thing  unduly  to 
ourselves  on  that  account.  For  though  we  cannot  avoid 
thinking  we  are  in  the  right,  in  those  particular  things 
wherein  we  differ,  yet  at  the  same  time  we  know  our- 
selves to  be  far  excelled  by  them,  in  much  greater  and 
more  important  things. 

My  honoured  Lord, 
)^our  Lordship's 

most  obedient 

humble  servant, 

J.  H.' 

But  after  this,  some  gave  themselves  a  strange 
liberty  of  inveighing  against  this  practice  of  occasional 
communion,  as  •  irrational,  unchristian,  and  altogether 
unaccountable  and  self-condemning.  And  it  at  length 
became  a  question,  whether  they  that  could  at  all  and 
in  any  case  worship  God  with  the  church  of  England, 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


xlvu 


should  not  be  obliged  to  do  it  for  a  constanc)"^,  or  else 
be  incapacitated  from  holding  any  place  either  of 
profit  or  trust  1  And  when  things  were  come  to  this 
pass,  and  the  Occasional  Bill  was  first  brought  into  the 
House  of  Commons  in  1702,  Mr.  Howe  committed  his 
thoughts  to  writing  in  the  following  paper. 

A  CASE. 

'Two  sorts  of  Christian  assemblies  are  wont  to  meet, 
seveialiy,  for  the  worship  of  God,  which  both  hold  all 
the  same  articles  of  doctrine  taught  by  Christ  or  his 
apostles;  and  use  the  same  institutions  of  worship  ap- 
pointed by  them:  only  they  diifer  in  this,  that  the  one 
sort  use  also  some  rites,  not  so  appointed,  which  the 
other  use  not. 

'  Two  gentlemen.   Sir  T and   Sir  J ,  are  of 

equal  estates:    but    Sir   T lives  not  so  regularly, 

more  seldom  comes  to  the  worship  of  God  in  any 
Christian  assembly;  yet  when  he  doth,  resorts  only  to 
one  of  the  former  sort. 

'Sir  J is  a  sober,  virtuous  person,  of  approvea 

piety,  prudence,  justice,  fortitude,  and  who  publicly 
worships  God,  sometimes  in  the  one  sort  of  assembly, 
and  sometimes  in  the  other. 

'  The  question  is  not,  whether  some  lewd  and  vicious 
persons  may  not  frequent  both  sorts  of  assemblies;  nor 
whether  some  sober  and  pious  persons  may  not  frequent 
those  of  the  former  sort  only. 

'But  whether  Sir  J ought  to  be  rendered  inca- 
pable of  serving  the  government  (to  which  he  hath 
constantly  expressed  himself  well  affected)  in  any  sta- 
tion, civil  or  militar}^,  for  this  single  reason,  because  he 
sometimes  worships  God  in  assemblies  of  the  latter 
sort;  (whether  it  be  his  infelicity,  ill  humour,  or  mis- 
take, whereof  yet  he  is  not  convinced;)  while  Sir  T 

(who  is  as  little  convinced  of  his  ill  life)  is  left  ca- 
pable 1  At  least  if  the  one  be  incapable,  should  not 
both  1 

'  But  if  the  question  be  determined  the  other  way, 
monstrous !  How  will  that  determination  of  an  Eng- 
lish parliament  stand  in  the  annals  of  future  time  1 
How  will  wiser  posterity  blush  they  had  such  proge- 
nitors !  For  can  it  be  supposed  a  nation  will  be  always 
drunk  1  Or  if  ever  it  be  sober,  will  it  not  be  amazed 
there  ever  was  a  time,  when  a  few  ceremonies,  of  which 
the  best  thing  that  ever  was  said  was  that  the}'  were 
indifferent,  have  enough  in  them  to  outweigh  all  reli- 
gion, all  morality,  all  intellectual  endowments,  natuitil 
or  acquired,  which  may  happen  in  some  instances  to  be 
on  the  wrong  side,  (as  it  must  now  be  reckoned,)  when 
on  the  other,  is  the  height  of  profaneness.  and  scorn  at 
religion ;  the  depth  of  debauchery  and  brutiality,  with 
half  a  wit,  hanging  between  sense  and  nonsense:  onl)' 
to  cast  the  balance  the  more  creditable  way,  there  is 
the  skill  to  make  a  leg,  to  dance  to  a  fiddle,  nimbly  to 
change  gestures,  and  give  a  loud  response,  which  con- 
tain the  answer  for  the  villanies  of  an  impure  life ! 

'  If  those  little  pieces  of  church-modislmess  have  so 
much  in  them  of  real  value,  in  all  these  are  they  not 
well  enough   paid    by  the  whole  church    revenues  of 


England,  without  stigmatizing  every  body  that  so  much 
admires  them  not '? 

'And  while  divers  of  real  worth  live  upon  chanty, 
some  with  difficulty  getting,  others  {edncated  to  mo- 
desty) with  greater  difficulty  begging,  their  bread ! 

'  But  do  those  who  are  not  contented  to  engross  all 
the  legal  emoluments,  think  there  is  no  God  in  heaven, 
that  knows  their  large  promises,  at  the  beginning  of 
this  revolution,  of  great  abatements  in  their  church 
constitution ;  when  now,  without  abating  one  hair,  they 
must  have  all  conform  to  it  in  every  punctilio,  or  be 
(as  much  as  in  them  is)  made  infamous,  and  the  scorn 
of  the  nation  V 

But  I  draw  a  veil,  and  am  not  for  dilating  upon  this 
matter. 

I  shall  only  add,  that  as  the  dissenters  have  beea 
considerable  losers,  as  to  their  interest  as  a  party,  by 
this  occasional  conformity,  and  might  easily  from  the 
first  foresee  that  they  should  be  so,  they  appear  to  me 
to  have  acted  a  very  generous  part  in  practising  and 
defending  it:  and  yet  they  have  met  with  most  un- 
brotherly  treatment  on  this  accoimt  from  those  to  whom 
they  were  willing  to  approach  as  near  as  they  could, 
while  some  have  run  them  down  upon  this  account  as 
perfect  hypocrites;  and  others  have  represented  this 
occasional  conformity  as  no  commendable  charity,  as 
long  as  they  did  not  come  up  to  constant  conformity, 
and  yield  the  cause  to  them  entirely.  If  this  is  doing 
as  men  would  be  done  unto,  it  is  very  strange !  Poste- 
rity 'tis  to  be  hoped  will  judge  more  favourably.  How- 
ever, after  such  treatment,  so  oft  repeated,  and  so  long 
continued,  if  the  dissenters  should  for  the  future  be 
more  sparing  in  this  waj^  of  showing  their  charity^ 
which  they  to  whom  they  would  express  it,  seem  so 
resolved  to  misintei-pret,  I  think  it  cannot  be  very  sur- 
prising: and  if  it  should  be  attended  with  any  ill  con- 
sequences, I  doubt  these  gentlemen  will  find  ihej-  musi 
lie  at  their  doors,  at  last 

But  by  this  time,  when  that  little  charity  that  we 
had  remaining  among  us  was  just  expiring,  Mr.  Howe 
began  to  be  weary  of  living.  He  had  seen  enough  of 
the  v.orld,  to.  discern  how  imfit  a  place  il  was  fo 
continue  to  dwell  in.  He  wanted  to  breathe  in 
nobler  air,  and  inhabit  better  regions.  And  we  shaJl 
soon  see  how  he  fled  thither,  when  we  have  touched  on 
those  works  of  his,  that  have  been  hitherto  unmentioned, 
the  account  of  which  stands  thus. 

In  1690,  he  published  'A  Funeral  Sermon  for  Mrs, 
Esther  Sampson,  late  wife  of  Henry  Sampson,  Dr  of 
Ph3^sic,  who  died  Nov.  24,  1669,  from  Luke  xin.  16.' 

In  16S5,  '  A  Discourse  relating  to  the  much  lamented 
Death,  and  solemn  Funeral,  of  our  incompai^ble  and 
most  gracious  Clueen  Mary,  of  most  blessed  memory  j 
dedicated  to  the  Right  Honourable  Rachel  Lady 
Russel.' 

In  1698,  '  A  Sermon  on  the  much  lamented  Death  of 
that  reverend  and  worthy  Servant  of  Chri-st,  Mr. 
Richard  Adams,  M.  A.  sometime  Fellow  of  Brazen- 
nose  College  in  Oxon ;  afterwards  Minister  of  St.  Mil- 


xlviii 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


dred's,  Bread-street,  London :  more  lately  Pastor  of  a 
Congregation  in  Southwark,  who  deceased  Feb.  7, 
1698.' 

The  same  year  also  he  printed  '  A  Sermon  preached  on 
the  Day  of  Thanksgiving,  Dec.  2.  1697,'  and  another  'to 
the  Societies  for  Reformation  of  Manners,  from  Rom. 
xiii.  4.' 

In  1699  he  printed  'A  Funeral  Sermon  for  that  re- 
verend and  most  laborious  Servant  of  Christ  in  the  Work 
of  the  Ministry,  Mr.  Matthew  Mead,'  who  deceased 
October  16th,  this  year,  which  is  dedicated  to  the  Lord 
aaid  Lady  Haversham.  The  same  year  also  came  out 
another  discourse  of  his,  concerning  the  '  Redeemer's 
Dominion  over  the  invisible  World,  and  the  Entrance 
thereinto  by  Death :  Preached  on  the  Occasion  of  the 
Death  of  John  Hoghton,  Esq.  eldest  Son  of  Sir  Charles 
Hoghton,  of  Hoghton  Tower,  in  the  County  of  Lancas- 
ter, Bart.'  And  soon  after,  came  out  the  '  Funeral  Ser- 
mon of  the  Reverend  Dr.  William  Bates,'  dedicated  to 
his  Grace  the  Duke  of  Bedford. 

In  1701  he  printed  'A  Two-fold  Discourse,  of  Man's 
Enmity  against  God,  and  Reconciliation  between  God 
and  Man,  from  Col.  i.  21.' 

In  1702  he  published  the  '  Second  Part  of  the  Living 
Temple,  containing  Animadversions  on  Spinosa,  and  a 
French  Writer  pretending  to  confute  him;  with  a  Re- 
capitulation of  the  Former  Part,  and  an  Account  of  the 
Destitution  and  Restitution  of  God's  Temple  amongst 
Men ;'  which  is  dedicated  to  William,  Lord  Pagett, 
Baron  of  Beaudesert  in  the  county  of  Stafford.  The 
same  year  he  also  published  '  A  Sermon  at  the  Funeral 
of  Mr.  Peter  Vink,  B.  D.' 

On  November  5,  1703,  he  preached  a  sermon  on  Col. 
i.  13.  which  he  afterwards  printed. 

And  the  last  thing  he  published,  was  '  A  Discourse  of 
Patience,  relating  to  the  Expectation  of  Future  Bless- 
edness,' to  which  there  was  afterwards  added  an  Ap- 
pendix, which  came  out  in  1705.  And  this  was  what 
he  now  had  particular  occasion  for.  For  having  em- 
ployed his  time,  strength,  and  interest  in  the  most  va- 
luable services,  he  by  this  time  was  wasted  with  several 
diseases,  which  he  bore  with  great  patience,  and  a  re- 
signed submission  to  the  will  of  his  h.eavenly  Father. 
He  discovered  no  fear  of  dying,  but  even  when  his  end 
drew  near,  was  very  serene  and  calm.  He  seemed  in- 
deed sometimes  to  have  been  got  to  heaven,  even  be- 
fore he  had  laid  aside  that  mortality,  which  he  had 
been  long  expecting  to  have  swallowed  up  of  life.  It 
was  observed,  and  is  I  believe  to  this  day  remembered, 
by  some  of  his  flock,  that  in  his  last  illness,  and  when 
he  had  Been  declining  for  some  time,  he  was  once  in  a 
most  affecting,  melting,  heavenly  frame  at  the  commu- 
nion, and  carried  out  into  such  a  ravishing  and  trans- 
porting celebration  of  the  love  of  Christ,  that  both  he 
himself,  and  they  who  communicated  with  him,  were 
apprehensive  he  would  have  expired  in  that  very  ser- 
vice. And  though  nature  was  considerably  spent  in 
him,  yet  was  there  somewhat  even  in  the  manner  of 
his  dying  that  was  remarkable,  and  worthy  of  obser- 
vation. 


He  would  be  very  pleasant  sometimes  in  his  last 
sickness,  and  converse  freely  with  such  as  came  to 
visit  him ;  and  they  were  many  of  all  ranks.  Among 
the  rest  Richard  Cromwell,  (who  was  now  grown  old, 
and  had  lived  many  years  retired  from  the  world,  since 
the  time  when  Mr.  Howe  was  his  domestic  chaplain,) 
hearing  that  he  was  going  off  the  stage,  came  to  make 
him  a  respectful  visit,  and  take  his  farewell  of  him  be- 
fore he  died.  There  was  a  great  deal  of  serious  dis- 
course between  them.  Tears  were  freely  shed  on  both 
sides,  and  the  parting  was  very  solemn,  as  I  have  been 
informed  by  one  that  was  present  upon  the  occasion. 
Many  elder  and  younger  ministers  also  frequently 
visited  him,  and  he  was  very  free  in  discourse  with 
them,  and  talked  like  one  of  another  world,  and  that 
had  raised  and  iincommo.n  hopes  of  that  blessedness 
there,  which  his  heart  had  long  been  set  upon. 

Having  been  very  bad  one  evening,  and  being  by 
the  next  morning  unexpectedly  recruited,  he  was  visibly 
cheerful:  which  being  taken  notice  of  by  those  that 
were  about  him,  he  said  he  was  for  feeling  that  he 
was  alive ;  and  yet  he  was  most  willing  to  die,  and  lay 
that  clog  (as  he  called  his  body)  aside.  Of  this  there 
is  a  plain  proof,  that  he  once  told  his  wife  that  though 
he  loved  her  as  well  as  it  was  fit  for  one  creature  to 
love  another,  yet  if  it  were  put  to  his  choice,  whether 
to  die  that  moment,  or  to  live  that  night,  and  the  living 
that  night  would  secure  the  continuance  of  his  life  for 
seven  years  to  come,  he  declared  he  would  choose  to  die 
that  moment.  Being  at  last  quite  worn  out,  he  finished  his 
course  with  joy,  April  2,  1705,  and  was  translated  into 
the  calm  and  peaceable  regions  of  the  blessed  above, 
where  nothing  but  perfect  charity  and  serenity  reign 
for  ever. 

He  was  interred  in  the  parish  church  of  St.  Allhal- 
lows.  Bread-street :  and  his  Funeral  Sermon  was  preach- 
ed April  8,  by  his  great  admirer,  and  most  respectful 
fellow-labourer,  Mr.  John  Spademan,  from  2  Tim. 
iii.  14, 

Some  time  after  his  decease,  my  good  friend  Mr. 
George  Hughes  of  Canterbury  wrote  to  Dr.  George 
Howe,  the  eldest  son  of  his  deceased  uncle,  desiring  an 
account  from  him  of  what  manuscripts  Mr.  Howe  had 
left  behind  him,  or  any  particularities  that  were  fit  to 
be  communicated  to  one  so  nearly  related  to  him,  and 
that  had  so  great  respect  and  value  for  his  memory. 
The  Doctor  returned  him  an  answer  in  the  following 
words : 

'Sm, 
'  I  AM  extremely  concerned  that  some  time  before  my 
honoured  father's  decease,  I  was  utterly  disabled  to 
reap  the  advantage  myself,  and  communicate  it  to 
friends,  of  the  large  memorials  he  had  collected,  of  the 
material  passages  of  his  own  life,  and  of  the  times 
wherein  he  lived,  which  he  most  industriously  conceal- 
ed, till  his  last  illness,  when  having  lost  his  speech, 
which  I  thought  he  would  not  recover,  he  surprisingly 
called  me  to  him,  and  gave  me  a  key,  and  ordered  me 
to  bring  all  the  papers,  (which  were  stitched  up  in  a 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


ilix 


multitude  of  small  volumes)  and  made  me  solemnly 
promise  him,  notwithstanding  all  my  reluctance,  im- 
mediately to  destroy  them,  which  accordingly  I  did; 
and  have  left  me  no  other  of  his  writings,  but  his  short 
sermon  notes,  excepting  some  passages  in  the  frontis- 
piece of  the  Bible  he  used  in  his  study,  which  I  here 
transmit  to  you,  and  know  it  will  be  very  acceptable. 
I  am  sorry  I  can  give  no  further  account,  but  that  is  a 
magnum  in  parvo,  &c. 

I  am, 
Your  sincerely  affectionate  kinsman, 
and  humble  servant, 

GEORGE  HOWE,' 

The  transcript  from  the  blank  page  in  Mr.  Howe's 
Bible,  which  the  foregoing  letter  refers  to,  was  in  these 
words  following,  which  were  written  with  his  own  hand ; 
and  they  yet  remain  there. 

'Dec.  26,  89.  Q,uum  diu  apud  me  serio  recogita- 
rem,  praster  certum  et  indubium  assensum  rebus  fidei 
adhibendum,  necessarium  insuper  esse  vivificum  quen- 
dam  earundem  gustum  et  saporem,  ut  majori  cum  vi 
et  efficacia  in  ipsissima  cordis  penetralia  sese  insere- 
rent :  ibidemque  altius  infixse,  vitam  eo  potentiiis  re- 
gerent;  neque  aliter  de  bono  Deum  versus  statu  con- 
clusum  iri,  sive  sanum  judicium  posse  ratum  haberi; 
cumque  pro  concione,  2  Cor.  i.  12.  fusiiis  tractassem, 
hoc  ipso  mane  ex  hujus  modi  somnio  dulcissimo,  primo 
evigilavi:  mirum  scilicet  a  superno  Divinae  Majestatis, 
solio  ccelestium  radiorum  profluvium  in  apertum  meum 
hiansque  pectus,  infusum  esse  videbatur. 

'  Saepius  ab  illo  insigni  die,  memorabile  illud  Pignus 
divini  Favoris,  grato  animo  recolui,  atque  dulcedinem 
^jusdem  iterum  atque  iterum  degustavi. 

'Gluas  autem  Octob.  22,  1704.  in  genus  miranda  Dei 
mei  benignitate,  et  suavissima  Spiritus  Sancti  opera- 
tione  percepi,  omnium  verborum  quae  mihi  suppetit 
copiam,  plane  superant!  Perquam  jucimdam  cordis 
emoUitionem  expertus  sum,  fusis  prse  gaudio  lachrymis, 
quod  amor  Dei  per  corda  diffunderetur,  mihique  spe- 
ciatim  donato  in  hunc  finem  Spiritu  suo.  Rom.  v.  5.' 

For  the  sake  of  such  readers  as  understand  not  the 
Latin  tongue,  I  shall  add  a  translation  of  these  memo- 
rable passages,  made  by  Mr.  John  Spademan,  than 
whom  none  ever  more  esteemed  and  valued  the  author 
of  them. 

'  Dec.  26,  89.  After  that  I  had  long,  seriously,  and 
repeatedly  thought  with  mj'self,  that  besides  a  full  and 
undoubted  assent  to  the  objects  of  faith,  a  vivifying, 
savory  taste  and  relish  of  them  was  also  necessary, 
that  with  stronger  force  and  more  powerful  energy, 
they  might  penetrate  into  the  most  inward  centre  of 
my  heart,  and  there  being  most  deeply  fixed  and  root- 
ed, govern  my  life ;  and  that  there  could  be  no  other  sure 
ground  whereon  to  conclude  and  pass  a  sound  judgment, 
on  my  good  estate  God-ward;  and  after  I  had  in  m}"^ 
course  of  preaching  been  largely  insisting  on  2  Cor.  i. 
12.  This  is  my  rejoicing,  the  testimony  of  a  good 
conscience,  &c.  This  very  morning  I  awoke  out  of  a 
most  ravishing  and  delightful  dream,  that  a  wonderful 


and  copious  stream  of  celestial  rays,  from  the  lofty 
throne  of  the  Divine  Majesty,  did  seem  to  dart  into  my 
open  and  expanded  breast.  I  have  often  since  with 
great  complacency  reflected  on  that  very  signal  pledge 
of  special  divine  favour  vouchsafed  to  me  on  that  noted 
memorable  day;  and  have  with  repeated  fresh  pleasure 
tasted  the  delights  thereof.  But  what  of  the  same 
kind  I  sensibly  felt  through  the  admirable  bounty  of 
my  God,  and  the  most  pleasant  comforting  influence 
of  the  Holy  Spirit,  on  Oct.  22,  1704,  far  surpassed  the 
most  expressive  words  my  thoughts  can  suggest.  I 
then  experienced  an  inexpressibly  pleasant  melting  of 
heart,  tears  gushing  out  of  mine  eyes,  for  joy  that  God 
should  shed  abroad  his  love  abundantly  through  the 
hearts  of  men,  and  that  for  this  very  purpose  mine  own 
should  be  so  signally  possessed  of  and  by  his  blessed 
Spirit.  Rom.  v.  5.' 

His  introduction  or  preface  to  his  last  will  and  testa- 
ment is  peculiarly  solemn,  and  a  noble  confession  of  his 
faith.     It  runs  thus : 

'I  John  Howe,  minister  of  the  Gospel  of  Christ,  in 
serious  consideration  (though  through  God's  mercy  in 
present  health)  of  my  frail  and  mortal  state,  and  cheer- 
fully waiting  (blessed  be  God)  for  a  seasonable  un- 
feared  dissolution  of  this  my  earthly  tabernacle,  and 
translation  of  the  inhabiting  spirit  into  the  merciful 
hands  of  the  great  God,  Creator,  Lord  of  heaven  and 
earth,  whom  I  have  taken  to  be  my  God,  in  and  with 
his  only-begotten  Son,  Jesus  Christ,  who  is  also  over 
all,  God  blessed  for  ever,  and  my  dear  and  glorious 
Redeemer  and  Lord;  with  and  by  the  Holy  Spirit  of 
grace,  my  light,  life,  and  joy;  relying  entirely  and 
alone  upon  the  free  and  rich  mercy  of  the  Father  vouch- 
safed on  the  accoimt  of  the  most  invaluable  sacrifice 
and  perfect  righteousness  of  the  Son,  applied  vmto  me, 
according  to  the  Gospel-covenant,  by  the  Spirit,  for  the 
pardon  of  the  many  seriously-repented  sins  of  a  very 
faulty  fruitless  life,  and  the  acceptance  of  my  person, 
with  my  sincere  though  weak  desires  and  endeavours 
to  do  him  service  in  this  world,  especially  as  my  call- 
ing, wherewith  he  graciously  honoured  me,  did  more 
particularly  require,  in  promoting  the  welfare  and  sal- 
vation of  the  precious  souls  of  men.' 

Besides  his  forementioned  works,  he  wrote  also 
several  prefaces  to  the  works  of  others;  as  to  Mr. 
Chorlton's  Funeral  Sermon  for  Mr.  Henry  Newcome  of 
Manchester  ;  to  the  third  volume  of  Dr.  Manton's 
Sermons,  by  way  of  Dedication  to  King  William, 
in  1689,  to  Mr.  Flavel's  Discourse  of  Mental  Er- 
rors, &c. 

But  I  know  not  how  to  close  my  account  of  this  ex- 
cellent person  without  adding  somewhat  as  to  his  cha- 
racter, though  I  am  very  sensible  it  cannot  easily  be 
given.  It  must  have  something  in  it  that  is  very  great 
and  peculiar,  or  it  will  not  be  just.  For  my  part,  I 
am  far  from  thinking  good  Mr.  Spademan  at  all  ex- 
ceeded, when  he  represented  him  as  one,  who  had  're- 
ceived from  the  Father  of  lights  so  great  a  varietj'  of 
both  natural  and  Christian  perfection,  that  he  was  not 
only  a  shining  light  and  ornament  of  his  age,  but  an 


I 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


inviting  example  of  universal  gooaness.'i  That  '  God 
gave  him  an  uncommon  skill  in  the  word  of  righteous- 
ness;' and  that  'he  had  peculiar  advantages  for  under- 
standing the  Oracles  of  God ;  a  large  fund  of  natural 
endowments,  improved  by  superadded  preparatives 
unto  the  study  of  the  scriptures;  a  rich  treasure  of 
human  learning,  particularly  a  thorough  knowledge 
of  pagan  theology,  by  which  he  was  enabled  to  descry 
the  shortness  and  mistakes  of  human  reason,  which 
faculty  he  well  understood  to  use  in  subordination  unto 
Christian  faith,  whose  mysteries  he  was  able  to  free 
from  the  objections  of  cavillers. 'k  '  He  took  care  to  wash 
the  vessel,  that  it  might  be  receptive  of  Divine  com- 
munications. And  to  these  he  added  unwearied  dili- 
gence, humility,  and  prayer,  which  was  the  delight  and 
solace  of  his  whole  life.  He  unfeignedly  sought  God's 
glory,  and  the  good  of  the  souls  of  men.  He  was  im- 
partial and  faithful  in  reproving  of  sin,  withoitt  respect 
of  persons;  easy  of  access,  and  condescending  to  the 
lowest;  and  indeed  became  all  things  to  all,  that  he 
might  gain  the  more.  And  ready  to  assist  all  the 
necessitous  and  distressed,  that  he  had  opportunity  of 
doing  good  unto.  He  was  furnished  with  fortitude  of 
mind,  able  to  encounter  the  most  grievous  sufTeriags; 
and  an  eminent  example  of  a  truly  Christian  patience 
under  very  sharp  afiiictions.  And  he  finished  his  course 
with  uncommon  joy:  and  few  ever  more  experienced 
a  divine  peace  and  serenity  of  mind,  at  the  nearest  ap- 
proaches of  death.' 

As  to  his  person,  he  was  very  tall,  and  exceeding 
graceful.  He  had  a  good  presence,  and  a  piercing  but 
pleasant  eye ;  and  there  was  that  in  his  looks  and  car- 
riage, that  discovered  he  had  something  within  that 
was  uncommonly  great,  and  tended  to  excite  venera- 
tion. His  intellectual  accomplishments  were  eminent. 
He  was  one  of  great  abstractedness  of  thought,  a  strong 
reasoner,  and  one  that  had  a  very  penetrating  judg- 
ment, which  carried  him  as  deep  into  a  subject,  as 
most  men  ever  went  that  handled  it.  He  had  bright 
natural  parts,  and  they  were  greatly  improved  by  study 
and  experience.  He  had  an  admirable  way  of  think- 
ing upon  any  subject  that  offered ;  and  many  times 
very  surprising  turns  in  discoursing  upon  it. 

Even  Mr.  Wood  the  Oxonian  himself,  who  very 
seldom  has  a  word  to  say  in  favour  of  a  nonconformist, 
when  he  comes  to  Mr.  Howe  is  so  unusually  complai- 
sant to  him,  as  to  own  that  he  was  '  a  person  of  neat  and 
polite  parts, 'I  and  '  moderate  and  calm  in  the  smaller 
matters  that  were  under  debate  between  the  church  and 
his  party.'  I'm  afraid,  if  he  had  seen  some  of  the 
things  here  published,  he  would  have  retracted  the 
latter  part  at  least  of  this  fair  character  he  gave  him. 
Nay,  and  he  goes  so  far  as  to  commend  his  style  too, 
which  he  says  is  'iine,  smooth,  and  natural.'  But  here 
I  doubt  many  will  think  his  good  humour  has  carried 
him  too  far,  and  tempted  him  to  strain  a  point;  his 
style  (as  great  a  man  as  he  was)  being  very  commonly 
objected  against,  and  thought  the  most  liable  to  excep- 

i  Dedicniion  of  hia  Funeral  Sermon  for  him,  p.  1040. 
k  Funeral  Sermon,  page  1043,  &c. 


tion  of  any  thing  in  his  performances.  Nor  is  this  his 
case  alone  ;  for  Bishop  Fell  in  his  Life  of  Dr.  Hammond, 
who  was  certainly  a  very  great  man,  says  that  that 
learned  doctor's  style  was  '  encumbered  with  parentheses, 
which  made  it  diflicult  to  vulgar  understandings.' 
Several  have  been  of  the  same  opinion  with  respect  to 
the  style  of  Mr.  Howe,  which  Mr.  Wood  mentions 
with  so  particular  an  encomium.  We  may  bear  with 
such  a  commendation  of  one  of  his  character,  it  being 
a  thing  so  uncommon  with  that  author.  But  methinks 
it  looks  a  little  ill-natured,  immediately  upon  his  speak- 
ing so  favourably  of  one,  to  pour  such  contempt  on  the 
rest  of  his  persuasion,  who  he  says  are  'most  of  them  of 
sour  and  unpleasant  converse.'  It  may  be  they  were 
not  to  his  gust:  which  is  the  less  to  be  wondered  at, 
since  he  was  so  little  to  theirs.  But  this  might  well 
enough  have  been  spared,  seeing  it  was  not  thus  with 
Mr.  Howe,  of  whom  he  was  now  writing ;  for  he  was 
generally  cheerful,  and  inoffensively  pleasant. 

His  ministerial  qualifications  were  singular.  He 
could  preach  off-hand  with  as  great  exactness,  as  many 
others  upon  the  closest  study.  He  delivered  his  sermons 
without  notes;  though  he  did  not  impose  that  method 
upon  others.  He  had  great  copiousness  and  fluency  in 
prayer;  and  the  hearing  him  discharge  that  duty  upon 
particular  sudden  emergencies,  would  have  been  apt  to 
have  made  the  greatest  admirer  of  stinted  forms 
ashamed  of  the  common  cavils  and  objections  against 
that  which  is  usually  called  extemporary  prayer.  He 
was  an  excellent  casuist,  and  would  clearly  solve  the 
greatest  difficulties  that  practice  was  concer  led  in. 
And  though  in  his  sermons  there  was  often  an  un- 
common depth,  especially  at  the  beginning,  yet  he 
took  care  to  become  plainer  in  the  sequel;  and  before 
he  concluded,  generally  came  with  great  pungency 
home  to  the  consciences  of  his  hearers ;  so  that  they 
must  be  greatly  faulty,  if  they  did  not  come  away 
from  hearing  him  both  wiser  and  better. 

He  was  one  of  remarkable  prudence  himself,  and 
much  valued  and  commended  it  in  others.  It  was  a 
common  saying  with  him,  that  he  was  so  far  from 
questioning  whether  prudence  was  a  virtue,  that  he 
reckoned  imprudence  to  be  a  great  vice  and  immorality. 
He  was  not  apt  to  be  swayed  by  interest,  nor  could 
any  thing  bias  his  judgment.  And  it  may  be  said  of 
him,  as  is  usually  said  of  those  of  the  strongest  reason, 
the  greatest  sagacity,  and  the  noblest  accomplishments, 
that  he  was  one  of  great  civility,  candour,  and  ingenuity. 

He  was  very  courteous  to  strangers,  or  others  that  came 
to  visit  him,  and  received  them  with  great  decency: 
and  never  could  be  of  the  mind  of  those  that  reckon 
religion  and  piety  mconsistent  with  good  breeding.  - 

He  knew  how  to  address  himself  suitably  to  the 
greatest  persons,  without  the  least  mixture  of  what 
was  mean  or  servile;  and  yet  was  able  to  condescend 
to  inferiors:  and  was  very  affable  to  younger  ministers, 
whom  he  would  use  with  an  easy  freedom,  offering  them 
as  there  was  occasion  the  kindest  advice. 

1  Atli.  Oxen.  vol.  ii.  page  1014. 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


He  was  very  like  that  eminent  German  divine  Martin 
Bucer,  in  the  peaceableness  of  his  temper,  and  a  willing- 
ness to  accommodate  differences.  He  had  a  truly  great 
soul,  and  at  the  same  time  a  very  cool  and  moderate 
spirit ;  and  was  an  utter  enemy  to  that  uncharitable  and 
censorious  humour  that  is  visible  in  so  many.  He  did 
not  (as  appears  from  all  his  writings)  look  upon  religion 
as  a  system  of  opinions,  or  a  set  of  forms,  so  much  as  a 
divine  discipline  to  reform  the  heart  and  life.  In  lesser 
matters  he  could  freely  give  others  the  liberty  of  their 
own  senliments  ;  and  was  as  unwilling  to  impose,  as  to 
be  imposed  upon. 

He  seems  to  have  been  born  into  this  world,  to  sup- 
port generous  principles,  a  truly  catholic  spirit,  and  an 
extensive  charity.  He  was  for  carefully  concealing  or 
lessening  the  failings  and  imperfections  of  others ;  and 
in  thai  respect  has  admirably  exemplified  his  own  temper 
in  his  printed  discourse  with  reference  to  '  Charity  for 
other  Men's  Sins.'  But  whenever  he  found  men  impetu- 
ous in  asserting  their  own  opinions,  and  peremptory  in 
rejecting  the  judgment  of  others,  when  they  had  taken 
care  to  set  things  in  a  due  light,  and  add  a  .suitable 
evidence,  'twas  his  way  to  answer  with  silence  ;  not  at 
all  caring  to  argue  with  those,  who  instead  of  soberly 
and  modestly  inquiring  into  truth,  were  always  for  the 
last  word,  for  which  (for  his  part)  he  was  for  giving  them 
full  leave. 

He  was  for  having  nothing  remain  as  a  test  or  bound- 
ary of  Christian  communion,  but  what  has  its  foundation 
as  such,  in  plain  reason  or  express  revelation.  And  to 
him  may  those  very  words  be  justly  applied,  which  he. 
used  in  his  character  of  Dr.  Bates,  in  his  funeral  sermon 
for  nim.  '  He  was  for  entire  union  of  all  visible  Chris- 
tians, (or  saints  or  believers,  which  in  Scripture  are 
equivalent  terms,)  meaning  by  Christianity  what  is  es- 
sential thereto,  whether  doctrinal  or  practical;  as  by 
humanity  we  mean  what  is  essential  to  man,  severing 
accidents,  as  not  being  of  the  essence  :  and  by  visibility, 
the  probable  appearance  thereof:  and  for  free  com- 
munion of  all  such,  of  whatsoever  persuasion  in  extra- 
essential  matters,  if  they  pleased.  And  this  design  he 
vigorously  pursued  as  long  as  there  was  any  hope  ;  de- 
sisting when  it  appeared  hopeless  ;  and  resolving  to  wait 
till  God  should  give  a  spirit  suitable  hereto,  from  an  ap- 
prehension that  when  principles  on  all  hands  were  so 
easily  accommodable,  and  yet  that  there  was  with  too 
many  a  remaining  insuperable  reluctancy  to  the  thing 
itself,  God  must  work  the  cure,  and  not  man.  Account- 
ing also,  in  the  mean  time,  that  notwithstanding  mis- 
representations, it  was  better  to  cast  a  mantle  over  the 
failings  of  brethren,  than  be  concerned  to  detect  and  ex- 
pose them.  Knowing  that  if  we  are  principally  solicit- 
ous for  the  name  of  God,  he  will  in  his  own  way  and 
time  take  care  of  ours.'m  And  as  Mr.  Howe  savs  in  Dr. 
Bates's  case,  so  may  I  also  say  in  his,  '  in  this  sentiment 
he  wa*  not  alone.' 

In  many  cases  he  discovered  uncommon  sagacity ;  I 
shall  particularly  mention  one  instance,  the  truth  of  which 
may  be  depended  on.     In  King  Charles's  reign  he  had 

m  Soe  hU  Funeral  Sennon  on  Dr.  William  Bates,  p.  9S6. 


it  signified  to  him  by  several,  that  a  certain  nobleman 
that  was  at  that  time  great  at  court,  was  desirous  to 
see  him.  Taking  an  opportunity  to  wait  upon  him,  and 
being  easily  admitted,  the  great  man  signified  that  his 
visit  was  very  acceptable,  and  seemed  to  be  willing  to 
enter  into  particular  freedoms  with  him.  Among  a 
great  many  other  things,  he  told  him  that  he  was  very 
sensible  that  the  dissenters  were  a  considerable  body  of 
people,  that  deserved  regard :  and  that  it  was  his  appre- 
hension that  if  they  had  a  person  that  was  near  the  king, 
and  had  a  good  interest  at  court,  that  would  give  them 
hints  by  way  of  advice  for  their  conduct,  upon  critical 
emergencies,  and  that  was  able  and  ready  to  convey 
their  requests  to  his  majesty,  as  occasions  might  require, 
it  would  be  much  for  their  advantage.  And  he  was 
pleased  to  express  himself  in  such  a  manner,  that  Mr. 
Howe  thought  he  could  easily  gather,  that  the  maker  of 
the  motion  had  no  aversion  from  being  the  person 
pitched  upon,  for  the  purpose  mentioned.  After  a 
pause,  he  made  this  reply  ;  that  the  dissenters  bcL-o  a 
religious  people,  he  thought  it  highly  concerned  them, 
if  they  fixed  upon  any  particular  person  for  that  purpose, 
to  make  choice  of  one  that  would  not  be  ashamed  of 
them,  and  whom  at  the  same  time  they  might  have  no 
occasion  to  be  ashamed  of:  and  that  a  person  in  whom 
there  was  a  concurrence  of  these  two  qualifications  was 
very  difficult  to  find.  And  he  heard  no  more  of  him. 
And  it  is  with  me  past  doubt,  that  they  that  were  admit- 
ted to  the  knowledge  of  the  secret  history  of  his  life, 
could  have  recollected  several  such  instances,  had  the 
communicating  memoirs  concerning  him  been  sooner 
thought  of,  and  attempted. 

In  common  conversation  he  was  many  times  very 
pleasant  and  facetious.  Some  of  his  sudden  repartees 
were  very  remarkable,  and  de.serve  to  be  preserved. 
Being  at  dinner  with  some  persons  of  good  fashion, 
there  was  one  gentleman  in  the  company  that  expa- 
tiated with  great  freedom  in  praise  of  King  Charles  the 
First,  and  made  some  indecent  reflections  upon  others, 
that  were  not  at  all  agreeable  to  several  at  the  table. 
Mr.  Howe  observing  he  intermixed  a  great  many  horrid 
oaths  with  his  discourse,  took  the  freedom  to  tell  him,  that 
in  his  humble  opinion  he  had  wholly  omitted  one  very 
great  excellency  which  the  prince  he  had  so  much  ex- 
tolled was  so  generally  OMmed  to  have  belonging  to  him, 
that  he  had  not  known  of  any  one  that  had  the  face  to 
contest  it.  The  gentleman  seemed  not  a  little  pleased  to 
have  Mr.  Howe  come  in  as  a  voucher  for  the  prince  he 
applauded,  and  was  impatient  to  know  what  that  par- 
ticular excellence  was  that  he  referred  to.  And  when 
he  had  pressed  for  it  with  importunity,  he  at  length 
told  him  it  was  this;  that  he  was  never  heard  to  swear 
an  oath  in  his  common  conversation.  The  gentleman 
took  the  reproof,  and  promised  to  forbear  swearing  for 
the  future. 

At  another  time,  as  Mr.  Howe  was  walking  along  lie 
passed  by  two  persons  of  quality,  who  were  talking 
freely  together,  and  with  great  eagerness ;  and  when 
he  came  near  them,  he  heard   them  damn  each  other 


THE  LIFE  OF  MR.  JOHN  HOWE. 


most  abominably:  whereupon  pulling  off  his  hat,  and 
saluting  them  with  great  civility,  he  cried  out,  I  pray 
God  save  you  both  ;  which  so  took  with  them,  that  it  for 
the  present  diverted  the  humour  they  were  in,  and  they 
joined  in  returning  him  thanks. 

I  shall  mention  yet  one  passage  more,  which  I  think 
may  be  depended  on  as  related.  It  is  this ;  that  during 
the  continuance  of  the  debates  in  parliament  about  the 
bill  against  occasional  conformity,  Mr.  Howe  walking 
in  St.  James's  Park,  passed  by  a  certain  noble  lord  in 
a  chair,  who  sent  his  footman  to  call  him  to  him,  for 
that  he  desired  to  speak  with  him.  Coming  up  to  him, 
the  said  lord  very  respectfully  saluted  him,  signified 
he  was  glad  to  see  him,  and  entered  into  discourse  with 
him  upon  the  matter  depending,  reckoning  it  a  thing 
of  no  small  consequence,  which  he  intimated  he  had 
opposed  to  his  utmost.  Among  other  passages  upon 
that  occasion,  he  so  far  forgot  himself,  as  to  express 
himself  thus :  Damn  these  wretches,  for  they  are  mad ; 
and  are  for  bringing  us  all  into  confusion.  Mr.  Howe, 
who  was  no  stranger  to  the  lord  who  thus  entertained 
him  with  discourse,  considering  his  character,  made  this 
reply  to  him :   My  lord,  'tis  a  great  satisfaction  to  us, 


who  in  all  affairs  of  this  nature  desire  tc  look  upwards, 
that  there  is  a  God  that  governs  the  world,  to  whom 
we  can  leave  the  issues  and  events  of  things :  and  we 
are  satisfied  (and  may  thereupon  be  easy)  that  he  will 
not  fail  in  due  time  of  making  a  suitable  retribution  to 
all,  according  to  their  present  carriage.  And  this  great 
Ruler  of  the  world,  my  lord,  said  he,  has  among  other 
things  also  declared,  he  will  make  a  difference  between 
him  that  sweareth,  and  him  that  feareth  an  oath.  My 
lord  WEis  struck  with  his  last  hint,  and  presently  re- 
plied, Sir,  I  thank  you  for  your  freedom,  and  take 
your  meaning,  and  shall  endeavour  to  make  a  good  use 
of  it.  Mr.  Howe  in  return  said.  My  lord,  I  have  a 
great  deal  more  reason  to  thank  your  lordship,  for  saving 
me  the  most  difficult  part  of  a  discourse,  which  is  the 
application. 

'Twould  be  well  if  more  of  his  letters  could  oe  re- 
covered. 

[Here  are  subjoined  in  the  original  Life,  several  of 
Mr.  Howe's  letters,  which  are  inserted  m  the  present 
edition  at  page  10.36,] 


I 


THE 


LIVING     TEMPLE; 


DESIGNED  IMPROVEMENT  OF  THAT  NOTION, 


A  GOOD  MAN   IS   THE   TEMPLE  OF  GOD 


PART  I. 


CONCERNING  GOD'S  EXISTENCE,  AND  HIS  CONVERSABLENESS  WITH  MAN 


AGAINST  ATHEISM,  OR  THE  EPICUREAN  DEISM. 


TO  THE  RIGHT  HONOURABLE 


WILLIAM    LORD    PAGETT, 


BA«ON  OF  BEAUDESERT,  IN  THE  COUNTY  OP  STAFFORD. 


My  honoured  Lord, 

I  HAVE  not  the  opportunity  of  begging  your  Lordship's  foregoing  leave  to  prefix  your  name  to  these  papers ;  but 
despair  not  of  your  following  pardon.  Your  name  must  be  acknowledged  great,  through  two  potent  empires,  Christian 
and  Mahometan;  and  the  services  greater  which  you  have  done  to  many  that  may  perhaps  not  have  heard  the  sound 
of  your  name.  Your  prudent  and  prosperous  negociations  in  the  Austrian  and  Ottoman  courts,  have  obliged  multi- 
tudes, whose  better  genius  hath  taught  them  more  to  value  themselves,  than  to  think  they  were  born  to  slavery  ;  from 
which  you  have  found  means,  in  great  part,  to  save  Europe  :  sojneicAere,  by  charming  great  power,  so  as  to  conquer 
the  inclination  to  use  it  to  so  ill  a  purpose;  elsewhere,  by  preventing  its  increase,  where  that  inclination  was  invinci- 
ble. And  hereby  you  have  dignified  England,  in  letting  it  be  seen  what  it  can  signify  m  the  world,  when  it  is  so 
happy  as  to  have  its  interest  managed  by  a  fit  and  able  hand. 

Yet  that  knowledge  your  Lordship  hath  heretofore  allowed  me  to  have  of  you,  cannot  suffer  me  to  think  you  will 
account  your  name  too  great  to  patronize  the  cause  as.serted  in  the  following  discourse.  That  it  is  unpolished,  will 
not  affect  your  Lordship  ;  let  that  rest  where  it  ought :  the  subject  and  design  will,  I  doubt  not,  have  your  Lordship's 
countenance.  And  the  rather,  that  it  is  not  the  temple  of  this  or  that  party  that  is  here  defended,  which  would  little 
agree  to  the  amplitude  of  your  Lordship's  large  mind,  and  your  great  knowledge  of  the  world,  but  that  wherein  man- 
kind have  a  common  concern.  A  temple  that  is  the  seat  of  serious,  living  religion,  is  the  more  venerable,  and  the 
more  extensive,  the  more  defensible,  and  the  more  worthy  to  be  defended,  by  how  much  it  is  the  less  appropriate  to 
this  or  that  sect  and  sort  of  men,  or  distingtiished  by  this  or  that  afl^ected,  modifying  form  ;  that  which  according  to  its 
primitive  designation  may  be  hoped,  and  ought  to  be  the  resort  of  all  nations  :  which  it  is  vain  to  imagine  any  one,  of 
tnis  (fr  that  external  form,  not  prescribed  by  God  himself,  can  ever  be  ;  unless  we  should  suppose  it  possible,  that  one 
and  the  same  human  prince,  or  power,  could  ever  come  to  govern  the  world.  Such  uniformity  must  certainl}^  sup- 
pose such  a  universal  monarchy  as  never  was,  and  we  easily  apprehend  can  never  be.  Therefore,  the  belief  that  the 
Christian  religion  shall  ever  become  the  religion  of  the  world,  and  the  Christian  church  become  the  common  universal 
temple  of  mankind :  that  "  the  mountain  of  the  Lord's  house  snail  De  established  on  the  top  of  the  mountains,  and  all 
nations  flow  to  it ;"  (as,  besides  that,  many  other  texts  of  holy  Scripture  do  plainly  speak  ;)  and  an  intemperate  con- 
tentious zeal  for  one  external,  human  form  of  God's  temple  on  earth,  are  downright  inconsfstencies.  That  belief,  and 
this  zeal,  must  destroy  one  another ;  especially,  that  which  makes  particular  temples  engines  to  batter  down  each 
otne;  oecause  they  agree  not  in  some  human  additionals,  though  all  may  be  charitably  supposed  to  have  somewhat 
of  divme  life  in  them.  Therefore  we  plainly  see,  that  this  universal.  Christian,  living  temple,  must  be  formed  and 
finished,  not  by  human  might  or  power,  but  by  the  Spirit  of  the  living  God  ;  which  Spirit,  poured  forth,  shall  instruct 
princes,  and  the  potentates  of  the  world,  to  receive  and  cherish  among  their  subjects  the  great  essentials  of  Christian 
religion,  and  whatsoever  is  of  plain  divine  revelation,  wherein  all  may  agree,  rejecting,  or  leaving  arbitrary,  the  little 
human  additaments  about  which  there  is  so  much  disagreement. 

Heaven  did  favour  us  with  such  a  king :  and  thanks  be  to  God,  that  he  hath  given  us  such  a  queen,  who  is  not  foi 
destroying  any  temples  that  may  have  true  vital  religion  in  them,  because  they  neither  all  have,  or  have  not,  the  same 
pinnacles,  or  other  pieces  of  ornature  alike.  God  grant  all  Christian  princes  and  powers  may  herein  equally  imitate 
then?  both  ;  as  many  do  seriously  lament  the  loss  of  the  former. 

It  nas  been  long  the  honour  of  your  family  to  have  had  great  esteem  and  reverence  for  such  a  temple.  And  I  doubt 
not,  but  its  having  spread  its  branches  into  divers  other  worthy  families  of  the  Hampdens,  Foleys,  Ashhursts,  Hunts, 
has  given  your  Lordship  much  the  more  grateful  and  complacential  view,  for  the  affinity  to  your  own  in  this  respect. 
A  temple  so  truly  (and  even  only)  august  and  great,  spreads  a  glory  over  the  families,  kingdoms,  and  nations  where 
it  can  have  place.  What  is  here  written  is  a  mean  oblation,  for  the  service  of  this  temple ;  but  acceptable,  as  even 
goats'  hair  was.  by  being  consecrated,  with  a  sincere  mind,  for  the  use  of  the  tabernacle  of  old. 

The  First  Part  betakes  itself  to  your  Lordship  as  an  orphan,  upon  the  decease  of  its  former  patron,  in  hope  cs^some 
sort  of  a  postliminary  reception.  And  for  the  Second  Part,  it  is  (as  your  Lordship  shall  vouchsafe  to  receive  it)  origi- 
nally and  entirely  yours. 

The  former,  your  Lordship  will  see,  had  a  former  dedication  :  and  I  cannot  thmk  it  will  be  displeasing  to  your  Lord- 
ship, that  I  let  it  stand.  For  though  it  may  seem  somewhat  uncouth  and  unusual  to  have  two  such  epistles  come  sc 
near  one  another,  yet  the  unfashionableness  hereof,  I  conceive,  will,  in  your  Lordship's  judgment,  be  over-balanc«d 
by  considerations  of  a  preponderating  weight,  that  are  suggested  to  the"  reader.  While,  in'the  mean  time,  I  cannot 
suppose  it  unacceptable  to  your  Lordship,  that  a  person  of  true  worth  in  his  time,  related  to  the  same  county  in  which 
your  Lordship  hath  so  considerable  concerns,  and  not  altogether  unrelated  to  yourself,  should  have  had  a  participation 
with  you  in  the  same  sort  of  patronage  ;  with  whom  your  Lordship  hath  also  a  true  participation,  in  all  the  honour, 
esteem,  and  sincere  prayers  that  ever  were  conceived  for  him,  by 

Your  Lordship's  most  obedient. 

And  most  devoted,  humble  servant, 

JOHN  HOWE. 


ADVERTISEMENT. 


Reader 

Be  plea-sed  tr'  tade  notice,  that  the  former  part  of  this  work  was  heretofore  inscribed  to  that  w:)rthv  person,  Sir  John 
SkefBngton,  of  Fisherwick,  in  Staffordshire,  Baronet :  and  who  was  at  that  time,  also.  Viscount  Loid  Masserene,  gO' 
x'emor  of  the  county  of  Londonderry,  and  one  of  the  Lords  of  his  Majesty  Charles  the  Second's  most  Honourable  privy 
council  in  the  kingdom  of  Ireland  ;  and  now,  since,  deceased. 

I  have,  however,  thought  fit  to  let  it  be  reprinted,  (the  incongruity  being,  by  this  advertisement,  avoided,  of  making 
an  address  anew,  in  this  new  impression,  to  one  no  longer  in  our  world,)  that  the  memory  of  a  person  so  truly  valua- 
ble may,  so  far  as  this  can  contribute  thereto,  be  preserved  ;  and  because,  also,  many  things  in  this  epistle  may  be 
useful,  as  a  preface,  to  show  the  design  of  the  following  discourse.  And  as  this  purpose  may  be  equally  served  by  it 
as  it  is,  the  other  purpose  being  also,  thus,  better  served,  I  have  not  judged  it  necessary,  though  that  had  been  easy,  to 
alter  the  form  ;  which  was  as  follow : 

Although  I  am  not,  my  Lord,  without  the  apprehension  that  a  temple  ought  to  have  another  sort  of  dedication,  yet 
I  have  no  such  pique  at  the  custom  of  former  days,  but  that  I  can  think  it  decent  and  just  that  a  discourse  concerning 
one  conceived  under  your  roof,  though  born  out  of  your  house,  should  openly  own  the  relation  which  it  thereby  hath, 
and  the  author's  great  obligations  to  your  Lordship ;  and  upon  this  account  I  can  easily  persuade  myself  (though  that 
custom  hath  much  given  place  to  this  latter  one)  not  to  be  so  fashionable,  as  even  to  write  in  masquerade. 

It  were  indeed  most  unbecoming,  in  the  service  of  so  noble  a  cause,  to  act  in  disguise,  or  decline  to  tell  one's  name. 
And  as  the  prefixing  of  one  so  obscure  as  that  which  the  title-page  bears,  will  be  without  suspicion  of  a  design  to  re- 
compense, by  the  authority  of  a  name,  any  feared  weakness  of  the  cause  itself;  so  were  it  very  unworthy,  having 
nothing  better,  to  grudge  the  bringing  even  of  so  mean  a  thing,  as  a  sacrifice  to  the  door  of  the  temple. 

And  although  your  Lordship's  is  of  so  incomparably  greater  value,  yet  also  is  it  (as  the  equity  of  the  case  requires) 
exposed  with  less  hazard  ;  since  in  common  account,  the  vouchsafement  of  pardon  (whereof  I  cannot  despair)  for 
such  assumed  liberty,  can  with  no  justice  be  understood  to  import  more  than  only  a  favourable  aspect  on  the  design, 
without  any  interest  or  participation  in  the  disrepute  of  its  ill  management.  So  that  your  honour  is  in  no  more 
jeopardy  than  the  main  cause  itself,  which  is  but  little  concerned  in  the  successfulness  or  miscarriage  of  this  or  th^t 
effiirt,  which  is  made  on  behalf  of  it ;  and  which,  you  are  secure,  can  receive  no  real  damage.  For  the  foundation;, 
of  this  temple  are  more  stable  than  those  of  heaven  and  earth,  it  being  built  upon  that  Rock  against  which  the  gates 
of  hell  can  never  prevail. 

And  if,  in  any  unforeseen  state  of  things,  you  should  ever  receive  prejudice,  or  incur  danger  by  any  real  service 
you  should  design  unto  the  temple  of  God,  your  adventure  would  be  the  more  honourable,  by  how  much  it  weie  more 
hazardous.     The  order  of  Templars,  your  Lordship  well  knows,  was  not,  in  former  days,  reckoned  inglorious. 

But  as  this  temple  is  quite  of  another  constitution  and  make,  than  that  of  Jerusalem,  and  (to  use  those  words  of  the 
sacred  writer)  lixi^ipoTroirirns,  rovrir"'  oi  rauTrii  rri;  KTicrcojs — 7iot  made  with  hands,  that  is  to  say,  not  of  this  building ;  (Heb. 
ix.  11.)  so  what  is  requisite  to  the  interest  and  service  of  it,  is  much  of  another  nature.  Entire  devotedness  to  God, 
sincerity,  humility,  charity,  refinedness  from  the  dross  and  baseness  of  the  earth,  strict  sobriety,  dominion  of  one's 
self,  mastery  over  impotent  and  ignominious  passions,  love  of  justice,  a  steady  propension  to  do  good,  delight  in  doing 
it,  have  contributed  more  to  the  security  and  beauty  of  God's  temple  on  earth,  conferred  on  it  more  majesty  and  lustre, 
done  more  to  procure  it  room  and  reverence  among  men,  than  the  most  prosperous  violence  ever  did:  the  building 
up  of  this  temple,  even  to  the  laying  on  the  top-stone,  (to  be  followed  with  the  acclamations  of  Grace,  grace,)  being 
that  which  must  be  done,  not  by  might  or  power,  but  by  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord.  Which, inasmuch  as  the  structure  iS' 
spiritual,  and  to  be  situated  and  raised  up  in  the  mind  or  spirit  of  man,  works,  in  order  to  it,  in  a  way  suitable  thereto. 
That  is,  very  much  by  soft  and  gentle  insinuations,  unto  which  are  subservient  the  self-recom-mending  amiableness 
and  comely  aspect  of  religion;  the  discernible  gracefulness  and  uniform  course  of  such  in  whom  it  bears  rule,  axid  is 
a  settled,  livin?  law.  Hereby  the  hearts  of  others  are  captivated  and  won  to  look  towards  it:  made  not  only  desirous 
to  taste  its  delights,  but,  in  order  thereto,  patient  also  of  its  rigours,  and  the  rougher  severities  which  their  drowsy 
security  and  unmortified  lusts  do  require  should  accompany  it ;  the  more  deeply  and  thoroughly  to  attemper  and  form 
them  to  it.  Merely  notional  discourses  about  the  temple  of  God,  and  the  external  forms  belonging  to  it,  (how  useful 
soever  they  be  in  their  own  kind  and  order,)  being  unaccompanied  with  the  life  and  power  whereto  they  should  be  ad- 
joined, either  as  subservient  helps,  or  comely  expressions  thereof,  do  gain  but  little  to  it  in  the  estimation  of  discern- 
ing men. 

Much  more  have  the  apparently  useless  and  unintelligible  notions,  with  the  empty  formalities  too  arbitrarilj''  affixed 
to  it,  by  a  very  great,  namely,  the  unreformed,  part  ol  the  Christian  world,  even  there  exposed  it  to  contempt,  where 
the  professed  (but  most  irrational  and  hopeless)  design  hath  been  to  draw  to  it  respect  and  veneration. 

And  when  these  have  become  matter  of  strife,  and  filled  the  world  with  noise  and  clamour,  through  the  imperious 
violence  of  some,  and  the  factious  turbulency  of  others;  it  hath  made  it  look  with  a  frightful  aspect,  and  rendered  the 
divine  presence,  so  represented,  an  undesired,  dreadful  thing.  This  may  make  that  the  language  of  fear  with  some, 
(which  is  of  enmity  with  the  most,)  "Depart  from  us,  we  desire  not  the  knowledge  of  thy  ways." 


DEDICATION.  5 

Most  of  all ;  when  a  glorying  in  these  things,  and  contention  about  them,  are  joined  with  gross  immoralities ;  either 
manifest  impiety,  sensual  debaucheries,  acts  of  open  injustice,  or  the  no  less  criminal  evil  of  a  proud,  wrathful,  un- 
governable temper  of  spirit;  this  hath  made  it  a  most  hateful  thing  in  the  eyes  of  God  and  men,  and  turned  that 
which  should  be  the  house  of  prayer  unto  all  nations,  into  a  den  of  roljbers  :  hath  cast  the  most  opprobrious  con- 
tumely upon  him  whom  they  wuuld  entitle  the  owner  of  it.  That  is,  when  men  will  steal,  murder,  commit  adultery, 
swear  falsely,  oppress  the  stranger,  the  fatherless,  and  the  widow ;  and  yet  cry.  The  temple  of  the  Lord,  the  temple 
of  the  Lord,  &c. ;  it  is  as  if  they  would  make  the  world  believe,  that  the  holy  God,  the  great  lover  and  patron  of 
purity  and  peace,  had  erected  on  purpose,  a  house  on  earth,  to  be  the  common  harbour  and  sanctuary  of  the  vilest  of 
men,  the  very  pests  of  human  society,  and  disturbers  of  mankind. 

And  if  they  were  not  the  very  worst,  yet  how  absurd  and  senseless  a  thing  were  it,  that  he  should  be  thought  to 
appropriate  a  people  to  himself,  have  them  solemnly  baptized  into  his  name,  and  trained  up  in  a  professed  belief  of 
those  his  more  peculiar  revelations,  which  are  without  the  common  notice  of  the  most ;  and  in  the  use  of  certain 
(somewhat  ditfereni)  external  institutes,  being  yet  content  that,  in  all  things  else, they  be  but  just  like  the  rest  of  the  world. 

Though  he  may  be,  for  some  time,  patient  of  this  indignity,  and  connive  at  such  a  state  and  posture  of  things,  (as 
he  did  a  great  while  towards  the  Je\vs  of  old,)  yet,  that  this  should  be  thought  the  top  of  his  design,  and  the  thing  he 
lastly  aimed  at,  and  would  acquiesce  in,  supposes  such  a  notion  of  God,  as  than  which  worshipping  a  stock  were  not 
more  foolish  and  impious,  and  professed  atheism  as  rational  and  innocent. 

This  hath  spoiled  and  slurred  the  glory  of  the  Christian  temple,  the  most  august  and  magnificent  the  world  hath, 
(and  which,  indeed,  only  hath  right  to  the  name,)  made  the  religion  of  Christians  look  like  an  empty  vanity,  and 
appear,  for  many  ages,  but  as  an  external  badge  of  civil  distinction  between  them  and  another  sort  of  men,  that  are 
only  contending'  for  enlarging  of  empire,  and  who  shall  grasp  most  power  into  their  hands;  both  having  also  their 
sub-distinguishing  marks  besides,  under  which  too  probably  divers  of  those  wlio  have  adjoined  themselves  to  the  so 
differenced  parties,  furiously  drive  at  the  same  design.  And  these  zealously  pretend  for  religion  and  the  temple  of 
God;  when,  in  the  mean  time,  it  were  a  thing  perfectly  indifferent  (even  in  itself,  as  well  as  in  the  opinion  of  the 
persons  concerned)  what  relieion  or  wav  they  were  of,  true  or  false,  right  or  wrong.  Paganish,  Mahometan,  Jewish, 
Christian,  Popish,  Protestant;  Lutheran^  Calvinistical,  Episcopal,  Presbyterial,  Independent,  &c. :  supposmg  there 
be  any  of  each  of  these  denominations  that  place  their  religion  in  nothing  else  but  a  mere  assent  to  the  peculiar  opi- 
nions, and  an  observation  of  the  external  formalities,  of  their  own  party;  and  that  they  never  go  further,  but  remain 
finally  alienated  from  the  life  of  God,  and  utter  strangers  to  the  soul-refining,  governing  power  of  true  religion. 
Only,  that  their  case  is  the  worse,  the  nearer  thev  approach,  in  profession,  to  the  truth. 

And  really,  if  we  abstract  from  the  design  and  end,  the  spirit  and  life,  the  tranquillity  and  pleasure,  of  religion, 
one  would  heartily  wonder  what  men  can  see  in  all  the  rest,  for  which  they  can  think  it  worth  the  while  to  contend, 
to  the  disquieting  themselves  and  the  world.  Nobody  can  believe  they  regard  the  authority  of  God,  in  this  doctrmo 
or  institution,  rather  than  another,  who  neglect  and  resist  the  substance  and  main  scope  of  religion,  recommended 
to  them  by  the  same  authority.  And  as  to  the  matters  themselves  which  will  then  remain  to  be  disputed,  we  have 
first  the  distinguishing  name';  and  if  we  run  over  all  those  before  recited,  is  it  a  matter  of  that  consequence,  as  to 
cut  throats,  and  lay  towns  and  countries  desolate,  only  upon  this  quarrel,  which  of  these  hath  the  handsomer  sound  1 
The  different  rites  of  this  or  that  way,  to  them  who  have  no  respect  to  the  authority  enjoming  them,  must,  in  them- 
selves, signify  as  little.  And  for  the  peculiar  opinions  of  one  or  another  sect,  it  may  be  soberly  .said,  that  a  very  great 
part  understand  no  more  of  the  distinguishing  principles  of  their  own,  than  he  that  was  yet  to  learn  how  many  legs 
a  sectary  had.  Only  they  have  learned  to  pronounce  the  word  which  is  the  Shibboleth  of  their  party,  to  follow  the 
common  cry,  and  run  with  the  rest,  that  have  agreed  to  do  so  to. 

But  if  they  all  understood  the  notions  ever  so  well,  (not  to  speak  of  only  those  which  are  peculiar  to  their  way,  but,) 
which  are  most  necessary  to  true  religion  itself;  were  it  not,  in  them,  a  strange  frenzy,  to  contend  with  clubs  and 
swords  about  a  mere  notion,  which  has  no  influence  on  their  practice,  and  they  intend  never  shalll  li  any  should 
profess  to  be  of  opinion  that  a  triangle  is  a  figure  that  hath  four  corners,  sober  men  would  think  it  enough  to  say  they 
were  mad,  but  would  let  them  quietly  enjoy  iheir  humour,  and  never  think  it  fit  to  levy  armies  agamst  them,  or  em- 
broil the  world  upon  so  slender  a  quarrel.  And  wherein  can  the  notions  belonging  to  religion  be  rationally  ol  higher 
account,  with  them,  who  never  purpose  to  make  any  use  of  them,  and  against  which  it  is  impossible  for  any  to  fight 
so  mischievously  by  the  most  vehement,  verbal  opposition,  as  themselves  do,  by  their  opposite  practice,  most  direc-ily 
assaulting,  and  striking  at,  even  what  is  most  principallv  fundamental  to  religion  and  the  temple  of  God  1  Not  that 
these  great  things  are  unworthy  to  be  contended  for.  All  that  I  mean  is,  what  have  these  men  to  do  with  them  1  or 
how  irrationally  and  inconsistently  with  themselves  do  they  seem  so  concerned  about  them? 

Fox  even  lesser  things,  the  appendages  to  this  sacred  frame,  are  not  without  their  just  value,  to  them  who  under- 
stand their  intent  and  use.  Nor  am  I  designing  to  tempt  your  Lordship  to  the  neglect  or  disesteem  of  aiiy,  the  least, 
thing  appertaining  to  religion,  /nd  if  any  other  should,  I  rejoice  daily  to  behold  in  you  that  resolute  adherence  to 
whatsoever  apparently  divine  truth  and  institution,  to  common  order,  decency,  peace,  and  unity,  (which  so  greatly 
contribute  both  to  the  beauty  and  stability  of  God's  house,)  that  may  even  defy  and  dismay  the  attempt ;  and  gives 
ground,  however,  to  be  confident  it  would  be  labour  bestowed  as  vainly,  as  it  were  impiously  designed.  So  much 
greater  assurance  do  you  give  of  your  constant  fidelity  and  devotedness  to  the  substance  of  practical  religion  itself. 

Only  how  deeply  it  "is  to  be  resented,  that  while  it  should  be  so  with  all  others,  so  few  understand  wherein  that 
substance  doth  consist.  I  shall  not  now  take  notice  of  men's  very  diflerent  (which  must  infer  some  men  s  mistaken) 
apprehensions  concerning  the  things  necessary  to  be  believed.  But,  besides  that,  though  some  religious  sentiments 
be  most  deeply  natural  to  men,  (and,  for  aught  we  certainly  know,  as  far  exten.led  as  the  true  notion  ol  humanity 
can  be,)  yet  in  all  times,  there  has  been  a  too  general  mistake  (not  peculiar  to  the  Paganish  world  omy)  oi  the  true 
design,  and  proportionably  of  the  genuine  principle  of  it.  ...  -i         j  -  • 

That  is,  it  has  not  been  understood  as  a  thing  designed  to  purify  and  refine  men's  spirits,  to  reconcile  and  jom 
them  to  God,  associate  them  with  him,  and  make  them  finally  blessed  in  him.  But  only  to  avert  or  pacify  his  wrath, 
procure  his  favourable  aspect  on  their  secular  affairs,  (how  unjust  soever,)  while,  m  the  mean  time  they  have 
thought  of  nothing  less  than  becoming  like  to  him,  acquainted  with  him,  and  happy  in  him.  A  reconciliation  hath 
only  been  dreamed  of  on  one  side,  namely,  on  his,  not  their  own  ;  on  which,  they  are  not  so  much  as  mclmed  to 
any  thing  else,  than  the  continuance  of  the  former  distance  and  disaffection.  ,  j      ,•   •       •    ,i  „ 

Consonantly  whereto,  it  is  plainly  to  be  seen,  that  the  great  principle  which  hath  mostly  animated  religion  in  the 
world  hath  not  been  a  generous  love,  but  a  basely  servile  fear  and  dread.  Whence  the  custom  of  sacrificmg  hath  so 
generally  prevailed  (whencesoever  it  took  its  rise)  in  the  Pagan  world.  And  with  so  deep  an  apprehension  ot  its 
Ibsolute  necessity,  that  men  of  even  so  vile  and  barbarous  manners*  as  the  Gaul's  ol  old,  chose,  ^  ma""^  of  con- 
troversy, to  submit  their  greatest  concernments  to  the  pleasure  and  arbitrement  ol  their  Druids,  Uhose  sacrea  ler- 
sons,  as  they  reckoned  them,)  rather  than  be  interdicted  the  sacrifices  (the  only  punishment  they  could  mmct>  id 

•  See  the  character  given  of  lUem  by  Cicero,  Orat.  pro.  Marf..  Foil. 


6  DEDICATION. 

case  of  their  refusal :  which  punishment  (as  is  testified  by  Julius  Caesar*)  they  accounted  the  most  grievous  imagi- 
nable. And  it  needs  not  be  said  in  what  part  of  the  world  the  same  engine  hath  had  the  same  power  with  men,  even 
since  they  obtained  to  be  called  Chrbiian..  Which,  while  it  hath  been  of  such  force  with  them,  who,  notwithstand- 
ing, persisted  in  courses  of  the  most  profligate  wickedness  ;  whence  could  their  religion,  such  as  it  was,  proceed, 
save  only  from  a  dread  of  divine  revenge  1  What  else  could  it  design  (though  that  most  vainly)  but  the  averting 
it,  without  even  altering  their  own  vile  course  1 

Wow  let  this  be  the  account  and  estimate  of  religion;  only  to  propitiate  the  Deity  towards  flagitious  men,  still  re- 
maining so;  and  how  monstrous  a  notion  doth  it  give  its  of  God,  that  he  is  one  that  by  such  things  can  ever  be  ren- 
dered favourable  to  such  men  !  Let  it  not  be  so,  (while  you  sever  its  true  and  proper  end  also,)  how  most  despicably 
inept  and  foolish  a  thing  doth  it  make  religion  !  A  compages  and  frame  of  merely  scenical  observances  and  actions, 
intended  to  no  end  at  all. 

In  a  word,  their  religion  is  nothing  but  foolery,  which  is  not  taken  up  and  prosecuted  with  a  sincere  aim  to  the 
bettering  their  spirits ;  the  making  them  holy,  peaceful,  meek,  humble,  merciful,  .studious  of  doing  good,  and  the 
composing  them  into  temples,  some  way  meet  for  the  residence  of  the  blessed  God;  with  design  and  expectation  to 
have  his  intimate,  vital  presence,  settled  and  made  permanent  there. 

The  materials  and  preparation  of  which  temple  are  no  where  entirely  contained  and  directed,  but  in  the  gospel  of 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ:  as,  hereafter,  we  may  with  divine  assistance  labour  to  evince.  The  greater  is  the  ignominy 
done  to  the  temple  of  God,  and  the  Christian  name,  by  only  titular  and  nick-named  Christianity.  Will  they  pretend 
themselves  the  temple  of  God,  partakers  in  the  high  privilege  and  dignity  of  the  Emmanuel,  (in  whom  most  emi- 
nently the  Deity  inhabiteth,)  who  are  discernibly,  to  all  that  know  them,  as  great  strangers  to  God,  and  of  a  temper 
of  spirit  as  disagreeing  to  him,  of  as  worldly  spirits,  as  unmortified  passions,  as  proud,  wrathful,  vain-glorious,  en- 
vious, morose,  merciless,  disinclined  to  do  good,  as  any  other  men  1  When  Grod  cleanses  his  house,  and  purges  his 
floor,  where  will  these  be  foitnd  1 

And  for  this  temple  itself,  it  is  a  structure  whereto  there  is  a  concurrence  of  truth  and  holiness ;  the  former  letting 
in  (it  were  otherwise  a  darksome,  disorderly,  uncomforlable  house)  a  vital,  directive,  formative  light,  to  a  heavenly, 
calm,  God-like  frame  of  spirit,  composed  and  made  up  of  the  latter. 

It  is  this  temple,  my  Lord,  which  I  would  invite  you  both  to  continue  your  respect  unto  in  others,  and,  more  and 
more,  to  prepare  and  beautify  in  yourself. 

You  will  find  little,  in  this  part,  ofl'ered  to  your  view,  more  than  only  its  vestibulum,  or  rather  a  very  plain  (if  not 
rude)  frontispiece ;  with  the  more  principal  pillars  that  must  support  the  whole  frame.  Nor,  whereas  (by  way  of 
introduction  to  the  discourse  of  this  temple,  and  as  most  fundamental  to  the  being  of  it)  the  existence  of  the  great 
Inhabitant  is  so  largely  insisted  on,  that  I  think  that  altogether  a  needless  labour.  Of  aH  the  sects  and  parties  in  the 
world,  (though  there  are  few  that  avow  it,  and  fewer,  if  any,  that  are  so,  by  any  formed  judgment,  unshaken  by  a 
suspicion  and  dread  of  the  contrary,)  that  of  atheists  we  have  reason  enough  to  suppose  the  most  numerous,  as  ha- 
ving difiused  and  spread  it.self  through  all  the  rest.  And  though,  with  the  mo.st,  under  disguise,  yet  uncovering, 
with  too  many,  its  ugly  face :  and  scarce  ever  more  than  in  our  own  days.  Wherefore,  though  it  hath  never  been 
in  any  age  more  strongly  impugned  ;  yet,  because  the  opposition  can  never  be  too  common,  to  so  common  an  enemy, 
this  additional  endeavour  may  prove  not  wholly  out  of  season.  And  the  Epicurean  atheist  is  chiefly  designed 
against  in  this  discourse  ;  that  being  the  atheism  most  in  fashion. 

Nor  is  any  thing  more  pertinent  to  the  design  of  the  discourse  intended  concerning  God's  temple ;  which,  import- 
ing worship  to  be  done  to  him,  requires,  first,  a  belief  that  he  is. 

And  surely  the  [E?]  inscribed  of  old,  as  Plutarch  tells  us,  on  the  Delphic  Temple;  signifying,  (as,  after  divers 
other  conjectures,  he  concludes  it  to  do,)  Thou  dost  exist,  is  an  inscription  much  more  fitly  set  in  view,  at  our  en- 
trance into  the  temple  of  the  living  God,  whose  name  is,  I  AM. 

Amidst  the  pleasant  entertainments  of  which  temple,  (made  more  intimate  to  you  than  human  discourse  can  make 
it,')  may  you  spend  many  happy  days  in  this  world,  as  a  preparative  and  introduction  to  a  happier  eternity  in  the 
other.  Whereto  he  is  under  many  and  deep  obligations,  by  any  means,  to  contribute  to  his  uttermost,  who  must 
(especially  in  the  offices  relating  to  this  temple)  profess  himself. 

My  honoured  Lord, 

Your  Lordship's  most  humble, 

Devoted  Servant, 

JOHN  HOWE. 

*  CnmTBtnl.  bh.  S. 


THE 


LIVING     TEMPLE 


PART  I. 

CONCERNING  GOD'S  EXISTENCE,  AND  HIS  CONVERSABLENESS  WITH  MAN. 

CHAPTER  I. 

THIS  NOTION  COMMON.  AUTHORITIES  NEEDLESS.  INSIGNIFICANT  WITH  THE  ATHEISTICAL,  WHO  HAVE  MADE  IT  MORE  NECESSARY 
TO  DEFEND  RELIGION,  AND  A  TEMPLE  IN  GENERAL,  THAN  THIS,  OR  THAT.  BETTER  DEFENDED  AGAINST  THEM  BY  PRACTICE  AND 
USE,  THAN  ARGUMENT,  WHEREOF  THEY  ARE  INCAPABLE.  OFTEN  DISPUTES  OF  ITS  PRINCIPLES  NOT  NECESSARY  TO  THE  PRAC- 
TICE OF  RELIGION.  SOME  CONSIDERATION  OF  THOSE  SUPPOSED  IN  THE  GENERAL  NOTION  OF  A  TEMPLE,  PERTINENT  (hOWEVEB) 
TO  THIS  DISCOURSE. 


I.  It  is  so  well  known  that  this  notion  hath  long  obtained 
in  the  world,  that  we  need  not  quote  sayings  to  avouch  it ; 
wherewith  not  the  sacred  writings  only,  but  others,  even  of 
pagans  themselves,  would  plentifully  furnish  us. 

But  as  authorities  are,  in  a  plain  case,  needless  to  un- 

Erejudiced  minds ;  so  will  they  be  useless  to  the  prejudiced, 
e  the  case  never  so  plain.  Nor  is  any  prejudice  deeper,  or 
less  vincible,  than  that  of  profane  minds  against  religion. 
With  such,  it  would  in  the  present  argument  signify  little, 
to  tell  them  wha^  hath  been  said  or  thought  before  by  any 
others.  Not  because  it  is  their  general  course  to  be  so 
very  circumspect  and  wary,  as  never  to  approve  or  assent 
to  any  thing,  unless  upon  the  clearest  and  most  convinc- 
ing demonstration :  but  from  their  peculiar  dislike  of  those 
things  only,  that  are  of  this  special  import  and  tendency. 
Discourse  to  them  what  you  will  of  «  temple,  and  it  will 
be  nauseous  and  unsavoury :  not  as  being  cross  to  their 
reason,  (which  they  are  as  little  curious  to  gratify  as  any 
other  sort  of  men,)  but  to  their  ill  humour,  and  the  dis- 
affected temper  of  their  mind;  whence  also  (though  thej' 
cannot  soon  or  easily  get  that  mastery  over  their  under- 
standings herein,  yet  because  they  would  fain  have  it  so) 
they  do  what  they  can  to  believe  religion  nothing  else  but 
the  effect  of  timorous  fancy,  and  a  temple,  consequently,  one 
of  the  most  idle  impertinences  in  the  world. 

To  these,  the  discussion  of  the  notion  we  have  proposed 
to  consider,  will  be  thought  a  beating  the  air,  an  endeavour 
to  give  consistency  to  a  shadow.  And  if  their  reason  and 
power  could  as  well  serve  their  purpose  as  their  anger 
and  scorn,  they  would  soon  tear  up  the  holy  ground  on 
which  a  temple  is  set,  and  wholly  subvert  the  sacred 
frame. 

I  speak  of  suck  as  deny  the  existence  of  the  ever-blessed 
Deity ;  or  (if  they  are  not  arrived  to  that  express  and  formed 
misbelief)  whose  hearts  are  inclined,  and  ready  to  deter- 
mine, even  against  their  misgiving  and  more  su.spicious 
minds,  there  is  no  God:  who,  if  they  cannot  a^  yet 
believe,  do  wish  there  were  none;  and  so  strongly,  as  in 
a  great  degree  to  prepare  them  for  that  belief.  That 
would  fain  banish  him  not  only  out  of  all  their  thoughts, 
but  the  world  too ;  and  to  whom  it  is  so  far  from  being  a 
grateful  sound,  that  the  tabernacle  of  God  is  with  men  on 
earth,  that  they  grudge  to  allow  him  a  place  in  heaven. 
At  least,  if  they  are  willing  to  admit  the  existence  of  any 
God  at  all,  do  say  to  him.  Depart  from  us;  and  would 
have  him  so  confined  to  heaven,  that  he  and  they  may 
have  nothing  to  do  with  one  another:  and  do  therefore 
rack  their  impious  wits  to  serve  their  hypothesis  either 
way;  that  under  its  protection  they  may  securely  in- 


dulge themselves  in  a  course,  upon  which  they  find  the 
apprehension  of  a  God,  interesting  himself  in  human 
affairs,  would  have  a  very  unfavourable  and  threatening 
aspect. 

They  are  therefore  constrained  to  take  great  pains  with 
themselves,  to  discipline  and  chastise  their  minds  and  un- 
derstandings to  that  tameuess  and  patience,  as  contentedly 
to  suffer  the  rasing  out  of  their  most  natural  impressions 
and  sentiments.  And  they  reckon  they  have  arrived  to 
a  very  heroical  perfection,  when  they  can  pass  a  scoff 
upon  any  thing,  that  carries  the  least  signification  with  it 
of  the  fear  of  God;  and  can  be  able  to  laugh  at  the  weak 
and  squeamish  folly  of  those  softer  and  effeminate  minds, 
that  will  trouble  themselves  with  any  thoughts  or  cares, 
how  to  please  and  propitiate  a  Deity :  and  doubt  not  but 
they  have  made  all  safe,  and  effectually  done  their  busi- 
ness, when  they  have  learned  to  put  the  ignominious  titles 
of  frenzy,  and  folly,  upon  devotion,  in  whatsoever  dress  or 
garb ;  to  cry  canting,  to  any  serious  mention  of  the  name 
of  God,  and  break  a  bold  adventurous  jest  upon  any  the 
most  sacred  mysteries,  or  decent  and  awful  solemnities,  of 
religion. 

II.  These  content  not  themselves  to  encounter  this  or 
that  sect,  but  mankind ;  and  reckon  it  too  mean  and  in- 
glorious an  achievement  to  overturn  one  sort  of  temple 
or  another ;  but  would  down  with  them  all,  even  to  the 
ground. 

And  they  are  bound,  in  reason  and  justice,  to  pardon 
the  emulation  which  they  provoke,  of  vying  with  them  as 
to  the  universality  of  their  design;  and  not  to  regret  it,  if 
they  find  there  be  any  that  think  it  their  duty  to  wave  a 
while  serving  the  temple  of  this  or  that  party,  as  less  con- 
siderable, to  defend  that  on^e  wherein  all  men  have  a  com- 
mon interest  and  concernment ;  since  matters  are  brought  to 
that  exigency  and  hazard,  that  it  seems  less  necessary  to 
contend  aboiit  this  or  tliat  mode  of  religion,  as  whether 
there  ought  to  be  any  at  all.  What  was  said  of  a  former 
age,  could  never  better  agree  to  an}',  than  our  own,  "that 
none  was  ever  more  fruitful  of  religions,  and  barren  of 
religion  or  true  piety."  It  concerns  us  to  consider,  whether 
the  fertility  of  those  many  doth  not  as  well  cause  as  ac- 
company a  barrenness  in  this  one.  And  since  ihe  iniquity 
of  the  world  luith  made  that  too  suitable,  which  were 
otherwise  unseemly  in  itself,  to  speak  of  a  temple  as  a 
fortified  j)lace,  whose  own  sacredness  ought  ever  to  have 
been  its  sufficient  fortification,  it  is  time  to  be  aware  lest 
our  forgetful  heat  and  zeal  in  the  defence  of  this  or  that 
oiU-tcork,  do  expose  (not  to  say  betray)  the  main  fortress 
to  assault  and  danger.    Whilst  it  hath  long  been,  by  this 


8 


THE  LIVmG  TEMPLE. 


Part  I. 


means,  a  neglected,  forsaken  thing ;  and  is  more  decayed 
by  vacancy  and  disuse,  than  it  could  ever  have  been  by 
the  most  forcible  battery ;  so  as  even  to  promise  the  rude 
assailant  an  easy  victory.  Who  fears  to  insult  over  an 
empty,  dispirited,  dead  religion  1  which  alive  and  shining 
in  its  native  glory,  (as  that  temple  doth,  which  is  compacted 
of  lively  stones  uni'.ed  to  the  living  corner  stone,)  bears 
with  it  a  magrnificence  and  state  that  would  check  a  profane 
look,  and  dazzle  the  presumptuous  eye  that  durst  venture 
to  glance  at  it  obliquely,  or  with  disrespect.  The  temple 
of  the  living  God,  manifestly  animated  by  his  vital  presence, 
would  not  only  dismay  opposition,  but  command  veneration 
also;  and  be  both  its  own  ornament  and  defence.  Nor 
can  it  be  destitute  of  that  presence,  if  we  ourselves  render 
it  not  inhospitable,  and  make  not  its  proper  inhabitant  be- 
come a  stranger  at  home.  If  we  preserve  in  ourselves  a 
capacity  of  the  divine  presence,  and  keep  the  temple  of 
God  in  a  posture  fit  to  receive  him,  he  would  then  no 
more  forsake  it,  than  the  soul  a  sound  and  healthy  body, 
not  violated  in  any  vital  part.  But  if  he  forsake  it  once, 
it  then  becomes  an  exposed  and  despised  thing.  And  as 
the  most  impotent,  inconsiderable  enemy  can  securely 
trample  on  the  dead  body  of  the  greatest  hero,  that  alive 
carried  awfulness  and  terror  in  his  looks;  so  is  the  weak- 
spirited  atheist  become  as  bold  now,  as  he  was  willing  be- 
fore, to  make  rude  attempts  upon  the  temple  of  God,  when 
He  hath  been  provoked  to  leave  it,  who  is  its  life,  strength, 
and  gloiy. 

III.  Therefore  as  they  who  will  not  be  treacherous  to  the 
interest  of  God  and  man,  must  own  an  obligation  and  ne- 
cessity to  apply  themselves  to  the  serious  endeavour  of 
restoring  the  life  and  honour  of  religion ;  so  will  the  case 
itself  be  found  to  point  out  to  us  the  proper  course  in  order 
hereto.  That  is,  that  it  must  rather  be  endeavoured  by 
practice,  than  by  disputation;  by  contending,  everyone 
with  himself,  to  excite  the  love  of  God  in  his  own  breast, 
rather  than  with  the  profane  adversary  to  kindle  his  anger, 
more  aiming  to  foment  and  cherish  the  domestic,  continual 
fire  of  God's  temple  and  altar,  than  transmit  a  flame  into 
the  enemies'  camp.  For  what  can  this  signify  1  And  it 
seldom  fails  to  be  the  event  of  disputing  against  prejudice, 
(especially  of  disputing  for  the  sum  of  religion  at  once 
against  tlie  prepossession  of  a  sensual  profane  temper,  and 
a  violent  inclination  and  resolvedness  to  be  wicked.)  to 
beget  more  wrath  than  conviction,  and  sooner  to  incense 
the  impatient  wretch  than  enlighten  him.  And  by  how 
much  the  more  cogent  and  enforcing  reasonings  are  used, 
and  the  less  is  left  the  confounded,  baffled  creatures  to  say, 
on  behalf  of  a  cause  so  equally  deplorate  and  vile ;  the 
more  he  finds  himself  concerned  to  fortify  his  obstinate 
will  ;■  and  supply  his  want  of  reason  with  resolution  ;  to 
find  out  the  most  expedite  ways  of  diverting,  from  what 
he  hath  no  mind  to  consider;  to  entertain  himself  with 
the  most  stupifying  pleasures,  (that  must  serve  the  same 
turn  that  opium  is  wont  to  do  in  the  case  of  broken,  un- 
quiet sleep,)  or  whatsoever  may  most  effectually  serve  to 
mortify  any  divine  principle,  and  destroy  all  sense  of  God 
out  of  his  soul. 

And  how  grateful  herein,  and  meritorious  often,  are  the 
assistant  railleries  of  servile,  and  it  may  be  mercenary, 
wits!  How  highly  shall  he  oblige  them,  that  can  furnish 
out  a  libel  against  religion,  and  help  them  with  more  arti- 
ficial .spite  to  blaspheme  what  they  cannot  disprove  !  And 
now  shall  the  scurrilous  pasquil  and  a  few  bottles,  work  a 
more  effectual  confutation  of^  religion,  than  all  the  reason 
and  argument  in  the  world  shall  be  able  to  countervail. 
This  proves  too  often  the  unhappy  issue  of  misapplying 
what  is  most  excellent  in  its  own  "kind  and  place,  to"  im- 
proper and  incapable  subjects. 

IV.  And  who  sees  not  this  to  be  the  case  with  the 
modern  atheist,  who  hath  been  pursued  with  that  strength 
and  vigour  of  argume-nt,  even  in  our  own  days,  that  would 
have  baffled  persons  of  any  other  temper  than  their  own, 
into  shame  and  silence  1  And  so  as  no  other  support  hath 
been  left  to  irreligion,  than  asenseless  stupidity,  an  obstinate 
resolvedness  not  to  consider,  a  faculty  to  stifle  an  argument 
with  a  jest,  to  charm  their  reason  by  sensual  softnesses 
into  a  dead  sleep;  with  a  strict  and  circumspect  care  that 
it  may  never  awake  into  any  exercise  above  the  condition 
of  dozed  and  half-witted  persons  >  or  if  it  do,  by  the  next 


debauch,  presently  to  lay  it  fast  again.  So  that  the  very 
principle  fails  in  this  sort  of  men,  whereto,  in  reasoning, 
we  should  appeal,  and  apply  ourselves.  And  it  were  al- 
most the  same  thing,  to  offer  arguments  to  the  senseless 
images,  or  forsaken  carcasses  of  men.  It  belongs  to  the 
grandeur  of  religion  to  neglect  the  impotent  assaults  of 
these  men :  as  it  is  a  piece  of  glory,  and  bespeaks  a  worthy 
person's  right  understanding,  and  just  value  of  himself,  to 
disdain  the  combat  with  an  incompetent  or  a  foiled  enemy. 
It  is  becoming  and  seemly,  that  the  grand,  ancient,  and 
received  tiuth,  which  tends  to,  and  is  the  reason  of,  the 
godly  life,  do  sometimes  keep  state ;  and  no  more  descend 
to  perpetual,  repeated  janglings  with  every  scurrilous  and 
impertinent  trifler,  than  a  great  and  redoubted  prince  would 
think  it  fit  to  dispute  the  rights  of  his  crown  with  a 
drunken,  distracted  fool,  or  a  madman. 

Men  of  atheistical  persuasions  having  abandoned  their 
reason,  need  what  will  more  powerfully  strike  their  sense — 
storms  and  whirlwinds,  flames  and  thunderbolts;  things 
not  so  apt  immediately  to  work  upon  their  understanding, 
as  their  fear,  and  that  will  astonish,  that  they  may  convince, 
that  the  great  God  makes  himself  known  by  the  judgments 
which  he  executes.  Stripes  are  for  the  back  of  fools  (as 
they  are  justly  styled,  that  say  in  their  hearts.  There  is  no 
God.)  But  if  it  may  be  hoped  any  gentler  n:ethod  may 
prove  effectual  with  any  of  them,  we  are  rather  to  expect 
the  good  efiect  from  the  steady,  uniform  course  of  their 
actions  and  conversation,  who  profess  reverence  and  devo- 
tedness  to  an  eternal  Being;  and  the  correspondence  of 
their  u-ay,  to  their  avowed  principle,  that  acts  them  on 
agreeably  to  itself,  and  may  also  incur  the  sense  of  the 
beholder,  and  gradually  invite  and  draw  his  observation; 
than  from  the  most  severe  and  necessitating  argumenta- 
tion that  exacts  a  sudden  assent. 

V.  At  least,  in  a  matter  of  so  clear  and  commanding 
evidence,  reasoning  many  times  looks  like  trifling;  and 
out  of  a  hearty  concernedness  and  jealousy  for  the  honour 
of  religion,  one  would  rather  it  should  march  on  with  an 
heroical  neglect  of  bold  and  malapert  cavillers,  and  only 
demonstrate  and  recommend  itself  by  its  own  vigorous, 
comely,  coherent  course,  than  make  itself  cheap  by  dis- 
cussing at  every  turn  its  principles  :  as  that  philosopher 
who  thought  it  the  fittest  way  to  confute  the  sophisms 
against  motion,  only  by  walking. 

But  we  have  nothing  so  considerable  objected  against 
practical  religion,  as  well  to  deserve  the  name  of  a.  sophism  ; 
at  least,  no  sophism  so  perplexing  in  the  case  of  religious, 
as  of  natural,  motion ;  jeers  and  sarcasms  are  the  most 
weighty,  convincing  arguments;  and  let  the  deplorate 
crew  niock  on.  There  are  those  in  the  world,  that  will 
think  they  have,  however,  reason  enough  to  persist  in  the 
way  of  godliness  ;  and  that  have  already  laid  the  founda- 
tion of  that  reverence  which  they  bear  to  a  Deity,  more 
strongly  than  to  be  shaken  and  beaten  off  from  it  by  a  jest ; 
and  therefore  will  not  think  it  necessary  to  have  the  princi- 
ples of  their  religion  vindicated  afresh,  every  time  they  are 
called  to  the  practice  of  it.  For  surely  thej^  would  be  re- 
ligious upon  very  uncertain  terms,  that  will  think  them- 
selves concerned  to  suspend  or  discontinue  their  course  as 
oft  as  they  are  encountered  in  it  with  a  wry  mouth  or  a 
distorted  look;  or  that  are  apt  to  be  put  out  of  conceit 
with  their  religion  by  the  laughter  of  a  fool ;  or  by  their 
cavils  and  taunts  against  the  rules  and  principles  of  it, 
whom  only  their  own  sensual  temper,  and  impatience  of 
serious  thoughts,  have  made  willing  to  have  them  false. 
That  any  indeed  should  commence  religious,  and  persist 
with  blind  zeal  in  this  or  that  discriminating  profession, 
without  ever  considering  why  they  should  do  so,  is  un- 
manly and  absurd;  especially  when  a  gross  ignorance  of 
the  true  rea.sons  and  grounds  of  religion  shall  be  shadowed 
over  with  a  pretended  awe  and  scrupulousness  to  inquire 
about  things  so  sacred.  And  an  inquisitive  temper  shall 
have  an  ill  character  put  upon  it,  as  if  rational  and  profane 
were  words  of  the  same  signification.  Or,  as  if  reason 
and  judgment  were  utterly  execrated,  and  an  unaccount- 
able, enthusiastic  fuiy,  baptized  and  hallowed,  the  only 
principle  of  religion.  But  when  the  matter  hath  un- 
dergone already  a  severe  inquisition,  and  been  search- 
ed to  the  bottom;  principles  have  been  examined;  the 
strength  and  firmness  hath  been  tried  of  its  deepest  and 


Chap.  II. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


most  finKlamental  grounds,  and  an  approving  judgment 
been  past  in  the  case,  and  a  resolution  thereupon  taken  up, 
of  a  suitable  and  correspondent  practice;  alter  all  this,  it 
were  a  vain  and  unwarrantable  curiosity,  to  be  perpetu- 
all}'  perplexing  one's  easy  path  with  new  and  suspicious 
researches  into  the  most  acknowledged  things.  Nor 
were  this  course  a  little  prejudicial  to  the  design  and  end 
of  religion,  (if  we  will  allow  it  any  at  all,)  the  refining 
of  our  minds,  and  the  fitting  us  for  a  happy  eternity.  For 
when  shall  that  building  be  finished,  the  foundations 
whereof  must  be  every  day  torn  up  anew,  upon  pretence 
of  further  caution,  and  for  more  diligent  search  1  Or  when 
■will  he  reach  his  journey's  end,  that  is  continually  vexed 
(and  often  occasioned  to  go  back  from  whence  he  came) 
by  causeless  anxieties  about  his  way ;  and  whether  ever 
he  began  a  right  course,  yea  or  no  1 

Many  go  securely  on  in  a  course  most  ignominiously 
wicked  and  vile,  without  ever  debating  the  matter  with 
themselves,  or  inquiring  if  there  be  any  rational  principle 
to  justify  or  bear  them  out.  Much  more  may  they,  with 
a  cheerful  confidence,  persist  in  their  well-chosen  way, 
that  have  once  settled  their  resolutions  about  it  upon  firm 
and  assured  grotmds  and  principles,  without  running  over 
the  same  course  of  reasonings  with  themselves  in  reference 
to  each  single,  devotional  act;  or  thinking  it  necessary 
every  time  they  are  to  pray,  to  have  it  proved  to  them, 
there  is  a  God.  And  because  yet  many  of  these  do  need 
excitation  ;  and  though  they  are  not  destitute  of  pious  sen- 
timents and  inclinations,  and  have  somewhat  in  them  of 
the  ancient  foundations  and  frame  of  a  temple,  have  yet, 
by  neglect,  sulTered  it  to  grow  into  decay.  It  is  therefore 
the  principal  intendment  of  this  discourse,  not  to  assert  the 
principles  of  religion  against  those  with  whom  they  have 
no  place,  but  to  propound  what  may  some  way  tend  to  rein- 
force and  strengthen  them,  -where  they  visibly  languish ; 
and  awaken  such  as  profess  a  devotedness  to  God,  to  the 
speedy  and  vigorous  endeavour  of  repairing  the  ruins  of 
his  temple  in  their  own  breasts ;  that  they  may  thence  hold 
forth  a  visible  representation  of  an  indwelling  Deity,  in 
effects  and  actions  of  life  worthy  of  such  a  presence,  and 
render  his  enshrined  glory  transparent  to  the  view  and 
conviction  of  the  irreligious  and  profane.  Which  hath 
more  of  hope  in  it,  and  is  likely  to  be  to  better  purpose, 
than  disputing  with  them  that  more  know  how  to  jest,  than 
reason ;  and  better  imderstand  the  relishes  of  meat  and 
drink,  than  the  strength  of  an  argument. 

VI.  But  though  it  would  be  both  an  ungrateful  and  in- 
significant labour,  and  as  talking  to  the  wind,  to  discourse 
of  religion  with  persons  that  have  abjured  all  seriousness, 
and  that  cannot  endure  to  think  ;  and  would  be  like  fight- 
ing with  a  storm,  to  contend  against  the  blasphemy  and 
outrage  of  insolent  mockers  at  whatever  is  sacred  and  di- 
vine ;  and  were  too  much  a  debasing  of  religion,  to  retort 
sarca.sms  with  men  not  capable  of  being  talked  with  in  any 
other  than  such  (that  is,  their  own)  language :  yet  it  wants 
neither  its  use  nor  pleasure,  to  the  most  composed  minds, 
and  that  are  most  exempt  from  wavering  herein,  to  view 
the  frame  of  their  religion,  as  it  aptly  and  even  naturally 
rises  and  grows  up  from  its  very  foimdations;  and  to  con- 
template its  first  principles,  which  they  may  in  the  mean 
time  find  no  present  cause  or  inclination  to  dispute.  They 
will  know  how  to  consider  its  most  fundamental  grounds, 
not  with  doubt  or  suspicion,  but  with  admiration  and  de- 
light ;  and  can  with  a  calm  and  silent  pleasure  enjoy  the 
repose  and  rest  of  a  quiet  and  well-assured  mind,  rejoicing 
and  contented  to  know  to  themselves,  (when  others  refuse 
to  partake  with  them  in  this  joy,)  and  feel  all  firm  and  stable 
under  them,  whereupon  either  the  practice  or  the  hopes  of 
their  religion  do  depend. 

And  there  may  be  also  many  others  of  good  and  pious 
inclinations,  that  have  never  yet  applied  themselves  to 
consider  the  principal  and  most  fundamental  grounds  of 
religion,  so  as  to  be  able  to  give  or  discern  anj'  tolerable 
reason  of  them.  For  either  the  sluggishness  of  their  own 
temper  may  have  indisposed  them  to  any  more  painful  and 
laborious  exercise  of  their  minds,  and  made  them  to  be 
content  with  the  easier  course  of  taking  every  thing  upon 
trust,  and  imitating  the  example  of  others;  or  they  have 
been  unhappily  misinformed,  that  it  consists  not  with  the 
reverence  due  to  religion,  to  search  into  the  grounds  of  it. 


Yea,  and  may  have  laid  this  for  one  of  its  main  grounds, 
that  no  exercise  of  rea.son  may  have  any  place  about  it. 
Or  perhaps  having  never  tried,  they  apprehend  a  greater 
difliculty  in  coming  to  a  clear  and  certain  resolution  herein, 
than  indeed  there  is.  Now  such  need  to  be  excited  to  set 
their  own  thoughts  a-work  this  way,  and  to  be  assisted 
herein.  They  should  therefore  consider  who  gave  them 
the  understandings  which  they  fear  to  use.  And  can  they 
use  them  to  better  purpose,  or  with  more  gratitude  to  him 
who  made  them  intelligent,  and  not  brute  creatures,  than 
in  labouring  to  know,  that  they  may  also  by  a  reasonable 
service  worship  and  adore  their  Maker  1  Are  they  not  to 
use  their  very  senses  about  the  matters  of  religion  1  For 
the  invisible  things  of  God,  even  his  eternal  power  and 
godhead,  are  clearly  seen,  &c.  And  their  faith  comes  by 
hearing.  But  what  1  are  these  more  sacred  and  divine, 
and  more  akin  to  religion,  than  their  rea.son  and  jiidgment, 
without  which  also  their  sense  can  be  of  no  use  to  them 
herein  1  Or  is  it  the  best  way  of  making  use  of  what 
God  has  revealed  of  himself,  by  whatsoever  means,  not 
to  imderstand  what  he  hath  revealed  "?  It  is  most  true  in- 
deed, that  when  we  once  come  clearly  to  be  informed  that 
God  hath  revealed  this  or  that  thing,  we  are  then  readily 
to  subject  (and  not  oppose)  our  feeble  reasonings  to  his 
plain  revelation.  And  it  were  a  most  insolent  and  un- 
creaturely  arrogance,  to  contend  or  not  yield  him  the  cause, 
though  things  have  to  us  seemed  otherwise.  But  it  were 
as  inexcusable  negligence,  not  to  make  use  of  our  under- 
standings to  the  best  advantage  ;  that  we  may  both  know 
that  such  a  revelation  is  divine,  and  what  it  signifies,  after 
we  know  whence  it  is.  And  anj-  one  that  considers,  will 
soon  see  it  were  very  imseasonable,  at  least,  to -allege  the 
written,  divine  revelation,  as  the  ground  of  his  religion,  till 
he  have  gone  lower,  and  fore-known  some  things  (by  and 
by  to  be  insisted  on)  as  preparator}'  and  fundamental  to 
the  knowledge  of  this. 

And  because  it  is  obvious  to  suppose  how  great  an  in- 
crease of  strength  and  vigour  pious  minds  may  receive 
hence,  how  much  it  may  animate  them  to  the  service  of 
the  temple  and  contribute  to  their  more  cheerful  progress 
in  a  religious  course  ;  it  will  therefore  not  be  besides  our 
present  purpose,  but  very  pursuant  to  it,  to  consi<ler 
awhile,  not  in  the  contentious  way  of  brawling  and  cap- 
tious disputation,  (the  noise  whereof  is  as  unsuitable  to  the 
temple,  as  that  of  axes  and  hammers,)  but  of  calm  and 
sober  discourse,  the  more  principal  and  lowermost  grounds 
upon  which  the  frame  of  religion  rests,  and  to  the  supposal 
whereof,  the  notion  and  use  of  any  such  thing  as  a  temple 
in  the  world,  do  owe  themselves. 


CHAPTER  n. 

The  two  more  princip^  ffroHtids  which  a  temple  supposes.  1.  TTie  edstenee 
of  God.  2.  Hie  conversal)kTie3s  with  men :  both  argued  from  common 
consent.  The  former  doubtful  if  ever  wholly  denied  in  fomier  days.  'ITw 
latter  also  implied  in  the  knmvn  general  practice  of  some  or  other  reli- 
gion. Fndenced  in  that  some,  no  strangers  to  the  world,  have  thought  it 
the  diderence  of  man.  The  immodest j'  and  rashness  of  the  persons  trom 
wlv)m  an}'  opposition  can  be  expected.  These  two  grounds  proposed  to  be 
more  strictly  considered  apart.  And,  first.  The  existence  of  God,  where 
first  the  notion  of  God  is  assigned.  The  parts  whereof  arc  proixised  to  be 
evinced  severally  of  some  existent  being.  1.  Elemitv.  2.  Selforiginalion. 
3.  Independency.  4.  Necessity  of  existence.  5.  Self-acfi\ily.  (Theimims 
eibiUty  this  world  should  be  this  necessao'  self  active  being.  The  inconsist- 
ency of  necessary  alterable  matter,  more  largely  deduced  in  a  margmal  di- 
gression.)   6.  Lite.    7.  Vast  and  mighty  power.    A  cotoUary. 

1.  Now  the  grounds  more  necessary  to  be  laid  down, 
and  which  are  supposed  in  the  most  general  notion  of  a 
temple,  are  especially  these  two  ■?  The  exislence  of  GJod, 
and  his  conversableness  with  men.  For  no  notion  of  -a 
temple  can  more  easil}'^  occur  to  any  one's  thoughts,  or 
is  more  agreeable  to  common  acceptation,  than  that  it 
is  a  habitation  wherein  God  is  pleased  to  dwell  among 

nren.  i.-  ,,  - 

Therefore  to  the  designation  and  use  of  it,  or  (which  is 
all  one)  to  the  intention  and  exercise  of  religion,  the  belief 
or  persuasion  is  necessary  of  those  two  things,  (the  same 
which  we  find  made  necessarv  on  the  same  accotmt,) 
"  That  God  is,  and  that  he  is  a  fewarder  of  them  that  dili- 
gently seek  him ;"  Hcb.  xi.  G.  as  will  appear  when  the 


10 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  I. 


manner  and  design  of  that  his  abode  with  men  shall  be 
considered. 

These  are  the  grounds  upon  which  the  sacred  frame  of 
a  temple  ought  to  stand,  and  without  which  it  must  be  ac- 
knowledged an  unsupported,  airy  fabric.  And  since  it 
were  vain  to  discourse  what  a  temple  is,  or  whereto  the 
notion  of  it  may  be  applied,  unless  it  be  well  resolved  that 
there  is,  or  ought  to  be,  any  such  thing ;  the  strength  and 
firmness  of  this  its  double  ground  should  be  tried  and 
searched,  and  of  its  pretensions  thereto. 

II.  And  though  it  be  not  necessary  in  a  matter  that  is  so 
plain,  and  wherein  so  much  is  to  be  said  otherwise ;  yet  it 
will  not  be  impertinent  to  consider,  first,  what  prescription 
(which  in  clearing  of  titles  is  not  wont  to  signify  nothing) 
will  signify  in  the  present  case.     And, 

First,  For  the  existence  of  God,  we  need  not  labour 
much  to  show  how  constantly  and  generally  it  hath  been 
acknowledged  through  the  whole  world;  it  being  so  difii- 
cult  to  produce  an  uncontroverted  instance,  of  any  that 
ever  denied  it  in  more  ancient  times.  For  as  for  them 
whose  names  have  been  infamous  amongst^  men  here- 
tofore upon  that  account,  there  hath  been  that  said,  that  at 
least  wants  not  probability  for  the  clearing  them  of  so  foul 
an  imputation.  That  is,  that  they  were  maliciously  re- 
presented as  having  denied  the  existence  of  a  Deity,  be- 
cause they  impugned  and  derided  the  vulgar  conceits  and 
poetical  lictions  of  those  days,  concerning  the  multitude 
and  the  ridiculous  attributes  of  their  imaginary  deities. 
Of  which  sort  Cicero'j  mentions  not  a  few  ;  their  being 
inflamed  witli  anger,  and  mad  with  lust ;  their  wars,  fights, 
wounds;  tiieir  hatreds,  discords;  their  births  and  deaths, 
&c. :  who  though  he  speak  less  favourably  of  some  of  these 
men,  and  mentions  one<^  as  doubting  whether  there  were 
any  gods  or  no,  (for  which  cause  his  book  in  the  beginning 
whereof  he  had  intimated  that  doubt,  (as  Cotta  is  brought 
in,  informing  us,)  was  publicly  burnt  at  Athens,  and  him- 
self banished  his  country,)  and  two  othersd  as  expressly 
denying  them  ;  3'et  the  more  generally  decried  patron''  of 
atheism  (as  he  has  been  accounted)  he  makes  Velleius 
highly  vindicate  from  this  imputation,  and  say  of  him, 
that  he  was  the  first  that  took  notice  that  even  nature  itself 
had  impressed  the  notion  of  God  upon  the  minds  of  all 
men  :  who  also  gives  us  these  as  his  words ;  "  What 
nation  is  there  or  sort  of  men  that  hath  not,  without  teach- 
ing, a  certain  anticipation  of  the  gods,  which  he  calls  a 
prolepsis,  a  certain  preventive,  or  fore-conceived  informa- 
tion of  a  thing  in  the  mind,  without  which  nothing  can  be 
miderstood,  or  sought,  or  disputed  of?"  Unto  which  pur- 
pose the  same  authorf  (as  is  commonly  observed)  else- 
where speaks  ;  that  there  is  no  nation  so  barbarous,  no  one 
of  all  men  so  savage,  as  that  some  apprehension  of  the 
gods  hath  not  tinctured  his  mind;  that  many  do  think  in- 
deed corruptly  of  them,  which  is  (saith  he)  the  effect  of 
vicious  custom ;  but  all  do  believe  there  is  a  divine  power 
and  nature.  Nor  (as  he  there  proceeds)  hath  men's  talk- 
ing and  agreeing  together  effected  ttiis.  It  is  not  an  opi- 
nion settled  in  men's  minds  by  public  constitutions  and 
sanctions;  but  in  every  matter  the  consent  of  all  nations 
is  to  be  reckoned  a  law  of  nature. 

And  whatever  the  apprehensions  of  those  few  (and  some 
others  that  are  wont  to  be  mentioned  under  the  same  vile 
character)  were  in  this  matter,  yet  so  inconsiderable  hath 
the  dissent  been,  that  as  another  most  ingenious  pagan 
authors  writes,  "In  so  great  a  contention  and  variety  of 
opinions,  (that  is,  concerning  what  God  is,)  herein  you 
shall  see  theh  law  and  reason  of  every  country  to  be 
harmonious  and  one;  that  there  is  one  God,  the  King  and 
Father  of  all ;  that  the  many  are  but  the  servants  audi 
— co-rulcrs  unto  God  ;  that  herein  the  Greek  and  the  bar- 
barian say  the  same  thing,  the  islander  and  the  inhabitant 
of  the  continent,  the  wise  and  the  foolish :  go  to  the 
utmost  bounds  of  the  ocean,  and  you  find  God  there. 
But  if  (says  he)  in  all  times,  there  have  been  two  or 
three,it  an  atheistical,  vile,  senseless  sort  of  persons,  whose 

a  Parker  Tent^m.  b  De  Natura  Deoruni,  lib.  1. 

c  Protag.  Abderitcs. 

d  Diagoras  and  Theotiorus  Cyrenaiciifl,  wlio  (as  Diogenes  Laertius,  in  Aris- 
tip.  reports)  was  suniamcd  aWiuj,  alterwarils  Oco;. 

e  Epicunus,  wliom  alno  liis  own  Epistle  to  MentBceus  in  Diosenes  Laertius 
acguits  of  atheism,  but  not  of  irreligion  ;  as  hereal'tcr  may  be  observed. 

t  Cicero  'f  uscul.  Quajst.  1.  i. 


own  eyes  and  ears  deceive  them,  and  who  are  maimed  in 
their  very  soul,  an  irrational  and  steril  sort,  as  monstrous 
creatures,  as  a  lion  without  courage,  an  ox  without  horns, 
or  a  bird  without  wings ;  yet,  out  of  those,  you  shall 
imderstand  somewhat  of  God  ;  for  they  know  and  confess 
him,  whether  they  will  or  no." 

III.  Yea,  and  the  use  of  a  temple,  and  the  exercise  of 
religion,  (which  suppose  the  second  ground  also,  as  well 
as  the  first,)  have  been  .so  very  common,  (though  not 
altogether  eqrially  common  with  the  former,)  that  it  is 
the  observation  of  that  famed  moralist,i  "  That  if  one 
travel  the  world,  it  is  possible  to  find  cities  without  walls, 
without  letters,  without  kings,  without  wealth,  without 
coin,  without  schools  and  theatres.  But  a  city  without  a 
temple,  or  that  uselh  no  worship,  prayers,  &c.  no  one  ever 
saw."  And  be  believes  a  city  may  more  easily  be  built™ 
without  a  foundation,  or  ground  to  set  it  on,  than  any 
community  of  men  have  or  keep  a  rnnsistency  without 
religion. 

IV.  And  it  is  no  mean  argument  of  the  commonness 
of  religion,  that  there  have  been  some  in  the  world,  and 
those  no  idiots  neither,  that  have  accounted  it  the  most 
constituent  and  distinguishing  thing  in  human  nature.  So 
that  Platonic  Jew"  judgeth  invocation  "of  God,  with  hope 
towards  him,  to  be,  if  w^e  will  speak  the  truth,  the  only 
genuine  property  of  man,  and  saith  that  07ilij  he  who  is 
acted  by  such  a  hope,  is  a  man,  and  he  that  is  destitute  of 
this  hope,  is  no  man ;"°  preferring  this  account  to  the 
common  definition,  (which  he  says  is  only  of  the  concrete 
of  man,)  that  he  is  a  reasonable,  and  mortal,  living  crea- 
ture. And  yet  he  extends  not  reason  further,  that  is,  to 
the  inferior  creatures ;  for  he  had  expressly  said  above, 
"  That  they  who  have  no  hope  towards  God,  have  no  part 
or  share  in  the  rational  nature."  And  a  noble  person?  of 
our  own  says,  "  That  upon  accurate  search,  religion  and 
faith  appear  the  only  ultimate  ditferences  of  man  ;  whereof 
neither  divine  perfection  is  capable,  nor  brutal  imperfec- 
tion ;"  reason,  in  his  account,  descending  low  among  the 
inferior  creatures.  But  these  agreeing  more  peculiarly  to 
man,  and  so  universally,  that  he  affirms,  "  There  is  no  man 
well  and  entirely  in  his  wits,  that  doth  not  worship  some 
deity."  Who  therefore  accounted  it  a  less  absurdity  to 
admit  such  a  thing  as  a  rational  beast,  than  an  irreligious 
man.  Now  if  these  have  taken  notice  of  any  instances 
that  seemed  to  claim  an  exemption  from  this  notion  of 
man,  they  have  rather  thought  fit  to  let  them  pass  as  an 
anomalous  sort  of  creatures,  reducible  to  no  certain  rank 
or  order  in  the  creation,  than  that  any  should  be  admitted 
into  the  account,  or  be  acknowledged  of  the  society  of 
men,  that  were  found  destitute  of  an  inclination  to  worship 
the  common  Author  of  our  beings.  And  according  to 
this  opinion,  by  whatsoever  steps  any  should  advance 
in  the  denial  of  a  Deity,  they  should  proceed  by  the 
same,  to  the  abandoning  their  own  humanity ;  and  by 
saying  there  is  no  God,  should  proclaim  themselves  no 
men. 

However,  it  discovers  (which  is  all  that  is  at  present  in- 
tended by  it)  the  commonness,  not  to  say  absolute  uni- 
versality, of  religion,  in  the  observation  of  these  persons, 
whom  we  must  suppose  no  strangers  to  the  world,  in  their 
own  and  former  times.  And  if  it  aflferd  any  less  ground 
for  such  an  observation  in  our  present  time,  we  only  see 
that  as  the  world  grows  older  it  grows  worse,  and  sinks 
into  a  deeper  oblivion  of  its  original,  as  it  recedes  further 
from  it. 

And  (notwithstanding)  this  so  common  a  consent  is  yet 
not  without  its  weight  and  significancy  to  our  present  pur- 
pose ;  if  we  consider  how  impossible  it  is  to  give  or  ima- 
gine any  tolerable  account  of  its  original,  if  we  do  not 
confess  it  natural,  and  refer  it  to  that  common  Author  of 
all  nature  whom  we  are  inquiring  about :  of  which  so  much 
is  said  by  divers  others,q  that  nothing  more  needs  here  to 
be  said  about  it. 

V.  And  at  least  so  much  is  gained  by  it  to  a  temple, 


g  Maxim.  Tyr.  diss.  I. 


h  Ofioipdivov  vojiov  Kai  \oyoy. 
k  aOcov  Kat  Taireivoti,  xai  aiiaiada  yenos. 


I  avvap\ovTCs  Oc  ^ 

1  Plutarcb  adversus  Colntem.  m  eSaibovi  xwpii. 

n  Philo.  libr.  dc  eo  quod  deterius  potiori  insid. 

o  povoi  tofATTif,  avQpwKos  o  ivaeXini  ovk  avOpwiros. 

p  Herlicrt  de  Verit. 

q  Sec  Cicero  in  sundry  places.    Grotins  de  Veritate  Christiana  Religi. 


Chap.  II. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


11 


that  unless  some  very  plain  and  ungainsayable  demonstra- 
tion be  brought  against  the  grounds  of  it,  (which  will  be 
time  enough  to  consider  when  we  see  it  pretended  to,)  no 
opposition,  fit  to  be  regarded,  can  ever  be  made  to  it.  That 
is,  none  at  all  can  possibly  be  made,  but  what  shall  pro- 
ceed from  the  most  immodest  and  rash  confidence,  animated 
and  borne  up  only  by  a  design  of  being  most  licentiously 
■wicked,  and  of  making  the  world  become  so.  Imrnodest 
confidence  it  must  be,  for  it  is  not  a  man,  or  a  nation,  or 
an  age,  that  such  have  to  oppose,  but  mankind  ;  upon 
which  they  shall  cast,  not  some  lighter  reflection,  but  the 
vilest  and  most  opprobrious  contumely  and  .scorn  that  can 
be  imagined.  That  is,  the  imputation  of  so  egregious  folly 
and  dotage,  as  all  this  while  to  have  worshipped  a  shadow, 
as  the  author  of  their  being ;  and  a  figment,  ibr  their  covi- 
inon  parent.  And  this  not  the  ruder  only,  and  uninquisi- 
tive  vulgar,  but  the  wisest  and  most  considering  persons  in 
all  times.  Surely  less  than  clear  and  pregnant  demonstra- 
tion (at  least  not  wild,  incoherent,  self-confounding  sup- 
Eositions  and  surmises,  of  which  more  hereafter)  will  never 
e  thought  sufficient  to  justify  the  boldness  of  an  attempt 
that  shall  carry  this  signification  with  it.  And  it  will  be 
a  confidence  equall}'^  rash,  as  immodest.  For  what  can  be 
the  undertakers'  hope,  either  of  success  or  reward  1  Do 
they  think  it  an  easy  enterprise,  and  that  a  few  quirks  of 
malapert  wit  will  serve  the  turn  to  baffle  the  Deity  into 
nothing,  and  unteach  the  world  religion,  and  rase  out  im- 
pressions renewed  and  transmitted  through  so  many  ages, 
and  persuade  the  race  of  men  to  descend  a  peg  lower,  and 
believe  they  ought  to  live,  and  shall  die,  like  the  perishing 
beast  1  Or,  do  they  expect  to  find  men  indifferent  in  a 
matter  that  concerns  their  common  practice  and  hope  1  add 
wherein  their  zeal  hath  been  wont  to  be  such  as  that  it  hath 
obtained  to  be  proverbial :  to  strive  as  for  the  very  altars. 
And  what  should  their  reward  be,  when  the  natural 
tendency  of  their  undertaking  is  to  exclude  themselves 
from  the  expectation  of  any  in  another  world  1  And  what 
will  they  expect  in  this,  from  them  whose  temples  and 
altars  they  go  about  !o  subvert  1  Besides,  that  if  they  be 
not  hurried  by  a  blind  impetuous  rashness,  they  would 
consider  their  danger,  and  apprehend  themselves  concerned 
to  strike  very  sure.  For  if  there  remain  but  the  least  pos- 
sibility that  the  matter  is  otherwise,  and  that  the  Being 
doth  exist,  whose  honour  and  worship  they  contend  against, 
they  must  imderstand  his  favour  to  be  of  some  concern- 
ment to  them;  which  they  take  but  an  ill  course  to  entitle 
themselves  unto.  Much  more  have  they  reason  to  be 
solicitous,  when  their  horrid  cause  not  only  wants  evidence, 
nor  hath  hitherto  pretended  to  more  than  a  bare  possibilitj' 
of  truth  on  their  side,  but  hath  so  clear  (and  as  yet  alto- 
gether unrefuted)  evidence  lying  against  it,  that  quite  takes 
away  that  very  possibility,  and  all  ground  for  that  misera- 
ble languishing  hope,  that  it  could  have  ever  aftbrded 
them.    Therefore  is  it  left  also  wholly  unimaginable,  what 

Erinciple  can  animate  their  design,  other  than  a  sensual 
umour,  impatient  of  restraints,  or  of  any  obligation  to  be 
sober,  just,  and  honest,  beyond  what  their  own  inclination, 
and  (much-mistaken)  interest,  or  conveniency,  would  lead 
them  to. 

By  all  which  we  have  a  sufficient  measure  of  the  persons 
from  whom  any  opposition  unto  religion  can  be  expected, 
and  how  much  their  authority,  their  example,  or  their 
scorn,  ought  to  signify  with  us.  And  that  a  more  valuable 
opposition  can  never  be  made,  our  experience,  both  that 
hitherto  it  hath  not  been,  and  that  it  would  have  been  if  it 
could,  might  render  us  tolerably  secure.  For  surely  it 
may  well  be  supposed,  th.at  in  a  world  so  many  ages  lost 
in  wickedness,  all  imaginable  trials  would  have  been  made 
to  disburthen  it  of  religion  ;  and  .somewhat  that  had  been 
specious  at  least,  to  that  purpose,  had  been  hit  upon,  if  the 
matter  had  been  any  ways  possible.  And  the  more  wicked 
the  world  hath  been,  so  directly  contrar}'  and  so  continually 
assaulted  a  principle,  not  yet  vanquished,  appears  the  more 
plainly  invincible.  And  that  the  assaults  have  been  from 
the  lusts  of  men,  rather  than  their  reason,  shows  the  more 
evidently,  that  their  reason  hath  only  Avanted  a  ground  to 
work  upon,  which  if  it  could  have  been  found,  their  lusts 

Dii  PJexs.  same  siibiect  and  title.  Calvin  Jnntit.  Kpiscaphis  his  Instil. 
Thfol.  wiio  has  written  ncrvouslv  on  thi.s  subject ;  with  many  more  :  but  esi)e- 
ci-aJly  Dr.  Stillingfleet,  in  his  Oris-  Sacr. 


had  certainly  pressed  it  to  their. service  in  this  warfare,  and 
not  have  endured,  rather,  the  molestation  of  continual 
checks  and  rebukes  from  it. 

Nor  need  we  yet  to  let  our  minds  hang  in  suspense,  or 
be  in  a  dubious  expectation,  that  possibly  some  or  other 
great  wit  may  arise,  that  shall  perform  some  great  thing  in 
this  matter,  and  discover  the  groundlessness  and  folly  of 
religion,  by  plain  and  undeniable  reasons  that  have  not  as 
yet  been  thought  on;  bin  betake  ourselves  to  a  stricter  and 
closer  consideration  of  our  own  grounds,  which  if  we  can 
once  find  to  be  certainly  true,  we  may  be  sure  they  are  of 
eternal  truth,  and  no  possible  contrivance  or  device  can 
ever  make  them  false. 

VI.  Having  therefore  seen  what  common  consent  may 
contribute  to  the  establishing  of  them  jointly  ;  we  may 
now  apply  ourselves  to  consider  and  search  into  each  of 
them  (so  far  as  they  are  capable  of  a  distinct  considera- 
tion) severall}'^  and  apart.  Having  still  his  mark  in  our 
eye,  our  oM'n  confirmation  and  excitation  in  reference  to 
what  is  the  proper  work  and  business  of  a  temple,  religion 
and  conversation  with  God :  how  little  soever  an}'  en- 
deavour in  this  kind  may  be  apt  to  signify  with  the  other- 
wise-minded. 

VII.  And,  first,  for  the  existence  of  God  ;  that  we  may 
regularly  and  with  evidence  make  it  out  to  ourselves,  that 
he  is,  or  dolh  exist,  and  may  withal  see  what  the  belief  of 
his  existence  will  contribute  towards  the  evincing  of  the 
reasonableness  of  erecting  a  temple  to  him.  It  is  requisite 
that  we  first  settle  a  true  notion  of  him  in  our  minds;  or 
be  at  an  agreement  \vith  ourselves,  what  it  is  that  we  mean, 
or  would  have  to  be  signified  by  the  name  of  God  :  other- 
wise we  know  not  what  we  seek,  nor  when  we  have  foimd 
him. 

And  though  we  must  beforehand  professedly  avow,  that 
we  take  him  to  be  such  a  one  as  we  can  never  compre- 
hend in  our  thoughts;  that  this  knowledge  is  too  excellent 
for  us,  or  he  is  more  excellent  tlian  that  we  can  perfectly 
know  him;  yet  it  v>'iil  be  sufficient  to  guide  us  in  our 
search  after  his  existence,  if  we  can  s^ive  such  a  descrip- 
tion, or  assign  such  certain  characters  of  his  being,  as 
will  severally  or  together  distinguish  him  from  all  things 
else.  For  then  we  shall  be  able  to  call  him  by  his  own 
name,  and  say,  This  is  God  ;  whatever  his  being  may  con- 
tain more,  or  whatsoever  other  properties  may  belong  to  it, 
beyond  what  we  can  as  yet  compass  in  our  present  thoughts 
of  him. 

VIII.  And  such  an  account  we  shall  have  of  what  we  are 
inquiring  after,  if  we  have  the  conception  in  our  minds  of 
an  eternal,  uncaused,  independent,  necessary  Being,  that 
hath  active  power,  life,  wisdom,  goodness,  and  whatsoever 
other  supposable  excellency,  in  the  highest  perfection 
originally,  in  and  of  itself 

Such  a  being  we  would  with  common  consent  express 
by  the  name  of  God.  Even  they  that  would  profess  to 
deny  or  doubt  of  his  existence,  yet  must  acknowledge 
this  to  be  the  notion  of  that  which  they  deny  or  doubt 
of  Or  if  they  should  say  this  is  not  it,  or  (which  is  all 
one)  that  they  do  not  deny  or  doubt  of  the  existence  of 
such  a  Being  as  this;  they  on  the  other  hand  that  would 
ai-gue  for  his  existence,  may  conclude  the  cause  is  yielded 
them;  this  being  that  which  they  designed  to  contend 
for. 

It  must  indeed  be  acknowledged,  that  some  things  'be- 
longing to  the  notion  of  God  might  have  been  more  ex- 
pressly named.  But  it  was  not  necessary  they  should, 
being  sufficiently  included  here,  as  will  afterwards  appear: 
nor  perhaps  so  convenient ;  some  things,  the  express  men- 
tion whereof  is  omitted,  being  such  as  more  ca'ptious  per- 
sons might  be  apt  at  first  to  startle  at;  who  yet  may 
possibly,  as  they  are  insinuated  under  other  expressions, 
become  by  degrees  more  inclinable  to  receive  them  after- 
wards. And  "however  if  this  be  not  a  full  and  adequate 
notion,  (as  who  can  ever  tell  when  we  have  an  express,  dis- 
tinct, particular  notion  of  G^d,  which  we  are  sure  is  ade- 
quate and  fuin)  it  mav  however  suflice,  that  it  is  a  trne  07ie, 
as  far  as  it  goes,  and  "such  as  cannot  be  mistaken  for  the 
notion  of  anv  thing  else.  And  it  will  be  more  especially  suf- 
ficient to  our  present  purpose,  if  enough  be  comprehended 
in  it  to  recommend  him  to  us  as  a  fit  and  worthy  object  of 
religion;  and  whereto  a  temple  ought  to  be  designed:  as 


12 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  I. 


it  •will  appear  there  is,  when  also  we  shall  have  added 
what  is  intended,  concerning  his  conversableness  with 
men ;  the  ground  whereof  is  also  in  great  part  included  in 
this  account  of  him;  so  that  the  consideration  of  it  can- 
not be  wholly  severed  from  that  of  his  existence  ;  as  hath 
been  intimated  above.  That  is,  that  if  such  a  Being  ex- 
ist, unto  which  this  notion  belongs,  it  will  sufficiently  ap- 
pear, he  is  such  as  that  he  can  converse  with  men,  though 
it  doth  not  thence  certainly  follow  that  he  icill.  For  it 
were  a  rash  and  bold  adventure,  to  say  he  could  not  be 
God,  if  he  did  not  condescend  to  such  terms  of  reconci- 
liation and  converse  with  apostate  creatures.  Whereof, 
therefore,  more  is  to  be  said,  than  the  mere  manifesting 
his  existence,  in  its  own  place. 

And  as  to  this,  we  shall  endeavour  to  proceed  gradual- 
ly, and  in  the  most  familiar  and  intelligible  way  we  can. 

I  am  not  unapprehensive  that  I  might  here  indeed,  fol- 
lowing great  examples,  have  proceeded  in  another  method 
than  that  which  I  now  choose.  And  because  we  can  have 
no  true,  appropriate,  or  distinguishing  idea  or  conception 
of  Deity,  which  doth  not  include  nece.ssity  of  existence  in 
it,  have  gone  that  shorter  way,  immediately  to  have  con- 
cluded the  existence  of  God,  from  his  idea  itself.  And  I 
see  not,  but  treading  those  wary  steps  which  the  incompa- 
rable Dr.  Cudworth  (in  his  Intell.  System)  hath  done,  that 
argument  admits,  in  spite  of  cavil,  of  being  managed, 
with  demonstrative  evidence.  Yet  since  some  most  per- 
tinaciously insist  that  it  is  at  the  bottom  but  a  mere  so- 
phism; therefore  (without  detracting  any  thing  from  the 
force  of  it  as  it  stands  in  that  excellent  work,  and  the 
writings  of  some  other  noted  authors)  I  have  chosen  to  go 
this  other  way,  as  plainer  and  less  liable  to  exception, 
though  further  about.  And  beginning  lower,  to  evince 
from  the  certain  present  existence  of  things  not  existing 
necessarily,  or  of  themselves,  their  manifest  dependence 
on  what  doth  exist  necessarily  or  of  itself;  and  how  ma- 
nifestly impossible  it  was  that  any  thing  should  .exist  now, 
or  hereafter  to  all  eternity,  if  somewhat  had  not  existed 
necessarily  and  of  itself,  from  all  eternity.  And  I  trust, 
not  only  this  will  appear  with  competent  evidence  in  the 
sequel  of  this  discourse,  but  also  that  this  necessary  self- 
existent  Being,  is  God,  a  Being  absolutely  perfect,  such 
to  whom  the  rest  of  his  idea  must  belong ;  and  to  whom 
religion  or  the  honour  of  a  temple  is  due. 

And  because  that  was  the  point  at  which  this  discourse 
principally  aims,  and  wherein  it  finally  terminates,  not 
merely  the  discovering  of  atheism,  but  irreligion  ;  from 
an  apprehension  that  as  to  use  and  practice,  it  was  all  one 
to  acknowledge  no  God  at  all,  as  only  such  a  one  to  whonr 
no  temple  or  religion  could  belong;  it  was  therefore  be- 
sides my  purpose,  to  consider  the  several /wots  or  schemes 
of  atheism,  that  have  been  devised  in  any  age,  as  that 
excellent  person  hath  done ;  and  enough  for  my  purpose, 
to  refute  the  Epicurean  atheism,  or  theism,  (it  is  indif- 
ferent which  you  call  it,)  because  that  sect-master,  while 
he  was  liberal  in  granting  there  were  deities,  yet  was  so 
impious  as  to  deny  wor.ship  to  any,  accounting  they  were 
such,  as  between  whom  and  man  there  could  be  no  con- 
versation ;  on  their  fart  by  providence,  or  on  manh  by  re- 
ligian.  Therefore,  if  we  shall  have  made  it  evident  in 
the  issue,  that  God  is,  and  is  conversable  with  men,  both 
the  Epicit^rean  atheism  vanishes  from  ofi^  the  stage,  and 
with  it  all  atheism  besides,  and  irreligion. 

IX.  We  therefore  begin  with  God's  existence.  For  the 
evincing  whereof  we  may,  1.  Be  most  assured,  that 
there  hath  been  somewhat  or  other  from  all  eternity,  or 
that  looking  backward,  somewhat  of  real  being  must  be 
confessed  eternal.  Let  such  as  have  not  been  used  to 
think  of  any  thing  more  than  what  they  could  see  with 
their  eyes,  and  to  whom  reasoning  only  seems  difficult, 
because  they  have  not  tried  what  they  can  do  in  it,  but 
use  their  thoughts  a  little,  and  by  moving  them  a'  few 
easy  steps,  they  will  soon  find  themselves  as  sure  of  this, 
as  that  they  see,  or  hear,  or  understand,  or  are  any 
thing. 

For  being  sure  that  something  now  is,  (that  you  see,  for 
instance,  or  are  something,)  you  must  then  acknowledge, 
that  certainly  either  something  always  was,  and  hath  ever 
been,  or  been  from  all  eternity;  or  else  you  must  sav, 
that  sometime,  nothing  was;  or  that  all  being  once  was 


not.  And  so,  since  you  find  that  something  now  is,  that 
there  was  a  time  when  any  thing  of  being  did  legin  to 
be,  that  is,  that  till  that  time,  there  was  nothing;  bulnow, 
at  that  time,  somewhat  first  began  to  be.  For  what  can 
be  plainer  than  that,  if  all  being  sometime  was  not,  and 
nov-:  some  being  is,  every  thing  of  being  had  a  beginning'? 
And  thence  it  would  follow  that  some  being,  that  is,  the 
first  that  ever  began  to  be,  did  of  it.self  start  up  out  of 
nothing,  or  made  itself  to  be,  when  before  nothing  was. 

But  now,  do  you  not  plainly  see  that  it  is  altogether 
impossible  any  thing  should  do  so;  that  is,  when  it  was 
as  yet  nothing,  and  when  nothing  at  all  as  yet  was,  that 
it  should  make  itself,  or  come  into  being  of  itself?  For 
surely  making  itself  is  doing  something.  But  can  that 
which  is  nothing  do  any  thing  1  Unto  all  doing  there 
must  be  some  doer.  Wherefore  a  thing  mu.st  be,  before 
it  can  do  any  thing ;  and  therefore  it  would  follow  ihat 
it  was  before  it  was  ;  or  u-as  and  was  not,  was  something 
and  nothing,  at  the  same  time.  Yea,  and  it  was  diverse 
from  itself.  For  a  cause  must  be  a  distinct  thing  from 
that  which  is  caused  by  it.  Wherefore  it  is  most  appa- 
rent that  some  being  hath  ever  been,  or  did  never  legin  to 
be.     Whence  further, 

X.  It  is  also  evident,  2.  that  some  being  was  un- 
caused, or  was  ever  of  itself  without  any  cause.  For 
what  never  was  from  another  had  never  any  cause,  since 
nothing  could  be  its  own  cause.  And  somewhat,  as 
appears  from  what  hath  been  said,  never  was  from  an- 
other. Or  it  may  be  plainly  argued  thus  ;  that  either 
some  being  was  uncaused,  or  all  being  was  caused.  But 
if  all  being  were  caused,  then  some  one,  at  least,  was 
the  cause  of  itself:  which  hath  been  already  shown  im- 
possible. Therefore  the  expression  commonly  used  con- 
cerning the  first  Being:,  that  it  was  of  itself,  is  only  to  be 
taken  negatively,  that  is,  that  it  was  not  of  another,  not 
positively,  as  if  it  did  sometime  make  itself.  Or,  what 
there  is  positive,  signified  by  that  form  of  speech,  is  only 
to  be  taken  thus,  that  it  was  a  being  of  that  nature,  as 
that  it  was  impossible  it  .should  ever  not  have  been.  Not 
that  it  did  ever  of  itself  step  out  of  not  being  into  being: 
of  which  more  hereafter. 

XI.  And  now  it  is  hence  further  evident,  3.  that  some 
being  is  independent  upon  any  other,  that  is,  whereas  it 
already  appears  that  some  being  did  never  depend  on  any 
other,  as  a  productive  cause  ;  or  was  not  beholden  to  any 
other,  that  it  might  come  into  being.  It  is  thereupon 
equally  evident  that  it  is  simply  independent,  or  cannot 
be  beholden  to  any  for  its  continued  being.  For  what  did 
never  need  a  productive  cause,  doth  as  little  need  a  sus- 
taining or  conserving  cause.  And  to  make  this  more 
plain,  either  .some  being  is  independent,  or  all  being  is 
dependent.  But  there  is  nothing  without  the  compass  of 
all  being,  whereon  it  may  depend.  Wherefore  to  say, 
that  all  being  doth  depend,  is  to  say  it  depends  on  nothing, 
that  is,  that  it  depends  not.  For  to  depend  on  nothing,  is 
not  to  depend.  It  is  therefore  a  manifest  contradiction, 
to  say  that  all  being  doth  depend  :  against  which  it  is  no 
relief  to  say,  that  all  beings  do  circularly  depend  on  one 
another.  For  so,  however,  the  whole  circle  or  sphere  ol 
beins:  should  depend  on  nothing,  or  one  at  last  depend  on 
itself;  which  negatively  taken,  as  before,  is  true,  and  the 
thing  we  contend  for ;  that  one,  the  common  support  ol 
all  the  rest,  depends  not  on  any  thing  without  itself. 
Whence  also  it  is  plainly  consequent, 

XII. That, 4. such  a  being  is  necessary, or  doth  necessarily 
exist ;  that  is,  that  it  is  of  such  a  nature  as  that  it  could  not 
or  cannot  but  be.  For  what  is  in  being  neither  by  its  own 
choice,  or  any  other's,  is  necessarily.  But  what  was  not 
made  by  itself  (which  hath  been  shown  impossible  that 
any  thing  should)  nor  by  any  other,  (as  it  hath  been  proved 
.something  was  not,)  it  is  manifest,  it  neither  depended  on 
its  own  choice,  nor  any  other's,  that  it  is.  And  therefore 
its  existence  is  not  owing  to  choice  at  all,  but  to  the  ne 
cessity  of  its  own  nature.  Wherefore  it  is  always  by  a 
simple,  absolute,  natural  necessity  ;  being  of  such  a  nature, 
to  which  it  is  altogether  repugnant,  and  impossible  ever  not 
to  have  been,  or  ever  to  cease  from  being.  And  noAV  ha- 
ving gone  thus  far,  and  being  assured  that  hitherto  we  feel 
the  ground  firm  under  us;  that  is,  having  gained  a  full 
certainly  that  there  is  an  eternal,  uncaused,  independent. 


Chap.  II. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


13 


necessary  Being,  and  therefore  actually  and  everlasting 
existing;  we  may  advance  one  step  lurlher,  and  with 
equal  assurance  add, 

XIII.  5.  That  this  eternal,  independent,  uncaused, 
necessary  Being,  is  self-active,  that  is,  (which  is  at  pre- 
sent meant,)  not  such  as  acts  upon  it.self,  but  that  hath 
the  power  of  acting  upon  other  things,  in  and  of  itself, 
without  deriving  it  from  any  other.  Or  at  least  that  there 
is  such  a  Being  as  is  eternal,  uncaused,  &c.  having  the 
power  of  action  in  and  of  itself.  For  either  such  a  Be- 
ing as  hath  been  already  evinced  is  of  itself  active,  or 
unactive,  or  either  hath  the  power  of  action  of  itself,  or 
not.  If  we  will  say  the  latter,  let  it  be  considered  what 
we  say,  and  to  what  purpose  we  say  it. 

First,  we  are  to  weigh  what  it  is  we  affirm,  when  we 
speak  of  an  eternal,  uncaused,  independent,  necessarj''  Be- 
ing, that  is  of  itself  totally  unactive,  or  destitute  of  any 
active  power.  If  we  will  say  there  is  some  such  thing, 
we  will  confess,  when  we  have  called  it  something,  it  is  a 
very  silly,  despicable,  idle  something,  and  a  something(if 
we  look  upon  it  alone)  as  good  as  nothing.  For  there  is 
but  little  odds  between  being  nothing,  and  being  able  to  do 
nothing.  We  will  again  confess,  eternit)'^,  self-origination, 
independency,  necessity  of  existence,  to  be  very  great  and 
highly  dignifying  attributes;  and  that  import  a  most  in- 
conceivable excellency.  For  what  higher  glor)^  can  we 
ascribe  to  any  being,  than  to  acknowledge  it  to  have  been 
from  eternity  of  itself/  without  being  beholden  to  any 
other,  and  to  be  such  as  that  it  can  be,  and  cannot  but  be 
in  the  same  state,  self-subsisting,  and  self-sufficient  to  all 
eternity  1  And  what  inconceivable  myriads  of  little  sense- 
less deities  must  we  upon  that  supposition  admit !  (as 
would  appear  if  it  were  fit  to  trouble  the  reader  with  an 
explication  of  the  nature  and  true  notion  of  matter,  which 
the  being  now  supposed,  must  be  found  to  be  !)  but  what 
can  our  reason  either  direct  or  endure,  that  we  should  so 
incongruously  misplace  so  magnificent  attributes  as  these, 
and  ascribe  the  prime  glory  of  the  most  excellent  Being, 
imto  that  which  is  next  to  nothing  1  What  might  further 
be  said  to  demonstrate  the  impossibility  of  a  self-subsist- 
ing and  self-original,  unactive  Being,  will  be  here  unsea- 
sonable and  pre-occupying.  But  if  any  in  the  mean  time 
will  be  so  sullen  as  to  say  such  a  thing. 

Let  it,  secondly,  be  considered  to  what  purpose  they  say 
it.  Is  it  to  exclude  a  necessary  self-active  being  1  But  it  can 
signify  nothing  to  that  purpose.  For  such  a  being  they  will 
be  forced  to  acknowledge,  let  them  do  what  they  can  (be- 
sides putting  out  their  own  eyes)  notwithstanding.  For  why 
will  they  acknowledge  any  necessary  being  at  all,  that  was 
ever  of  itself?  Is  it  not  because  they  camnot,  otherwise, 
for  their  hearts  tell  how  it  was  ever  possible  that  any  thing 
at  all  could  come  into  being  1  But  finding  that  something 
is,  they  are  compelled  to  acknowledge  that  something  hath 
ever  been,  necessarily  and  of  itself.     No  other  account 

r  We  will  acknowledge  an  impropriety  in  this  word,  anil  its  conjusate, 
gelf-OTiginate,  sometimes  hereat>er  used  :  which  yet  is  recompensed  by  their 
conveniency ;  as  they  may  perhaps  find  who  shall  make  trial  how  to  ex- 
press the  sense  intended  by  them  in  other  words.  And  they  are  used  with- 
out suspicion,  that  it  can  he  thought  they  are  meant  to  signify  as  if  ever 
God  gave  original  to  himself;  but  in  the  negative  sense,  tliat  he  never 
received  it  from  any  other ;  yea.  and  that  lie  is,  what  is  mire  than  equivalent 
to  his  being,  self  caused  ;  namely,  a  Being  of^  himself  so  excellent  as  not  to 
need  or  be  capable  to  admit  any  cause  Vid.  c.  4.  Sect.  3.  And  with  the  ex- 
pectation of  the  same  allowance  which  hath  licen  given  to  ai'ruirioc,  or  other 
like  words.  We  also  take  it  for  eraiited,  (v\hich  ft  may  suffice  to  hint  here 
once  for  all,)  that  when  we  use  here  the  word  self-sxibsistent,  it  will  be  under- 
stood we  intend  by  it,  (without  logical  or  metapfiysical  nicety,)  not  the  mere 
exclusion  of  dependence  on  a  subject,  but  on  a  cause. 

s  And  whether  by  the  way  this  will  not  aflbrd  us  (though  that  be  none 
of  our  present  business)  plain  evidence  that  there  can  be  no  such  thing  as 
necessary,  alterable  matter,  may  be  examined  by  such  as  think  lit  to  give 
themselves  the  diversion.  For  let  it  be  cnnsidered,  if  every  part  and  par- 
ticle that  makes  up  the  matti'r  of  this  universe  were  itself  a  necessary 
being,  and  of  itself  from  all  eternity,  it  must  have  not  only  it.s  simple 
being,  but  its  being  such  or  such,  of  itself  necessarily  ;  or  rather  every 
thing  of  it,  or  any  way  belonging  to  it,  must  be  its  very  simple  being 
itsclT.  For  wlience  should  it  receive  any  accession  to  itself,  when  it  is  sup- 
posed equally  independent  upon  its  fellows,  ils  any  of  them  upon  it  ?  Sup- 
pose then  only  their  various  intercurrent  mDlion  among  themselves,  requi- 
site to  prepare  them  to,  and  unite  them  in,  the  composition  of  particular 
bo<lies,  and  no  other  change  of  any  other  individual  particle  needful 
thereto,  but. only  of  their  figure,  place,  and  situation,  till  they  shall  come 
aptly  to  be  disposed  in  the  now  attempted  composition.  How  is  even  tliis 
change  possible?  For  supixjse  one  of  these  particles  from  eternity  of  such 
or  such  a  fieure,  as  triangular,  hooked,  &c.  now  can  it  lose  any  thing  from 
itself,  or  suffer  any  alteration  of  its  figure  which  essentially  and  necessarily 
tjelonged  toil  from  eteniity?  That  to  which  it  is  necessarj'  to  Ix'  such  if  is 
impossible  to  it  not  to  be  such.  Or  sttppo.se  no  alteration  of  figure  uvliich 
Fiiicunis  admits  not)  were  necessary:  but  of  situation  and  motion  till  it 
become  conveniently  situate.  Even  this  change  also  will  be  siniflv  iin- 
possible.    Because  you  can  frame  no  imagination  of  the  existence  of  this 


could  be  given  how  other  things  came  to  be.  But  what! 
doth  it  signify  any  thing  towards  the  giving  an  account  of, 
the  original  of  all  other  things,  to  suppose  only  an  eternal, 
self-sub.^isting,  unactive  being  1  Did  that  cause  other 
things  to  bel  Will  not  their  own  breath  choke  them  it 
they  attempt  to  utter  the  self-contradicting  words,  an  un- 
active cause  (i.  e.  efficient  or  author)  of  any  thing.  And 
do  they  not  .see  they  are  as  farfiom  their  mark  ;  or  do  no 
more  towards  the  a.ssigning  the  original  of  all  other  things, 
by  supposing  an  eternal,  unactive  being  only,  than  if  they 
supposed  none  at  all.  That  which  can  do  nothing,  can  no 
more  be  the  productive  cause  of  another,  than  that  which 
is  nothing.  Wherefore  by  the  same  reason  that  hath  con- 
strained us  to  acknowledge  an  eternal,  uncaused,  inde- 
pendent, necessary  being,  we  are  also  unavoidably  led  to 
acknowledge  this  being  to  be  self-active,  or  such  as  hath 
the  power  of  action  in  and  of  itself;  or  that  there  is  cer- 
tainly such  a  being,  that  is  the  cause  of  all  the  things 
which  our  sense  tells  us  are,  besides,  existent  in  the  world. 

XIV.  For  what  else  is  left  us  to  say  or  think  1  Will  we 
think  fit  to  say,  that  all  things  we  behold,  were,  as  they 
are,  necessarily  existent  from  all  eternity  1  That  were  to 
speak  against  our  own  eyes,  which  continually  behold  the 
rise  and  fall  of  living  things,  of  whatsoever  sort  or  kind, 
that  can  come  imder  their  notice.  And  it  were  to  speak 
against  the  thing  itself,  that  we  say,  and  to  say  and  unsay 
the  same  thing  m  the  same  brealh.  For  all  the  things  we 
behold  are  in  some  respect  or  other  (internal  or  external) 
continually  changing,  and  therefore  could  never  long  be 
beheld  as  they  are.  And  to  say  then,  they  have  been  con- 
tinually changing  from  eternity,  and  yet  have  been  neces- 
sarily, is  unintelligible,  and  flat  nonsense.  For  what  is 
necessarily,  is  always  the  same  ;  and  what  is  in  this  or  that 
posture  necessarily,  (that  is,  by  an  intrinsic,  simple,  and 
absolute  necessity,  which  must  be  here  meant,)  must  be 
ever  so.  Wherefore  to  suppose  the  world  in  this  or  that 
state  necessarily;  and  yet  that  such  a  state  is  changeable, 
is  an  impossible  and  self-contradicting  supposition. ^ 

And  to  say  any  thing  is  changing  from  eternity,  .'dignifies 
it  is  always  undergoing  a  change  which  is  never  past  over, 
that  is,  that  it  is  eternaily  unchanged,  and  is  ever  the  same. 
For  the  least  imaginable  degree  of  change  is  some  change. 
What  is  in  any  the  least  respect  changed,  is  not  in  every 
respect  the  same.  Suppose  then  any  thing  in  this  present 
state  or  posture,  and  that  it  is  eternally  changing  in  it; 
either  a  new  state  and  posture  is  acquired,  or  not.  If  it 
be,  the  former  was  temporary,  and  hath  an  end ;  and 
therefore  the  just  and  adequate  measure  of  it  wets  not 
eternity,  which  hath  no  end;  much  less  of  the  change  of 
it,  or  the  transition  from  the  one  state  to  the  other.  But 
if  no  new  state  or  posture  be  acquired,  (which  any  the 
least  gradual  alteration  would  make,)  then  it  is  eternally 
unchanged  in  any  the  least  degree.  Therefore  eternal 
changing  is  a  manifest  contradiction. 

or  that  particle,  but  you  must  suppose  it  in  some  or  other  «6;",  or  point  of 
space,  and  if  it  be  necessarily,  it  is  here  necessarily:  for  what  is  simply 
no  where  is  nothing.  But  if  it  be  here  necessarily,  (that  is,  in  this  or  that 
point  of  space,  fbr  in  some  or  other  it  must  be,  and  it  cannot  be  here  and 
there  at  once.)  it  must  lie  here  eternally,  anil  can  never  not  be  here.  There- 
fore we  can  have  no  notion  of  necessarily  alterable  or  moveable  matter, 
which  is  not  iiiidnsislent  and  repugnant  to  itself  Therefore  also  motion 
must  pniceed  from  an  iniiuoveable  mover,  as  hath  been  (though  upon 
aunlher  ground)  coiii-kided  of  old.  But  how  action  erf  fXtra  stands  with 
the  iuunutalility  of  tlio  Diity.  must  be  fetched  from  the  consiileration  of 
other. perfections  belonging  thereto.  Of  which  metaphysicians  and  school- 
men riiay  be  consulted,  discoursing  at  large.  See  Riiarez,  Lfdivtua  <lc  di- 
vina  perfectione,  with  many  more,  at  le>5ure.  Whatso{'\er  difticulty  we 
may  apprehend  in  this  case  or  if  we  cannot  so  easily  conceive  how  an 
eternal  mind  foreseeing  perfectly  all  futurity,  together  with  an  elem.il 
efficacious  determination  of  will  concerning  the  existmcc  of  such  and  Mich 
tliines  to  such  an  instant  or  point  of  time,  can  suffice  to  their  production 
without  a  super  addid  efflux  nfp<iwerat  that  instant;  which  would  seem 
to  infer  somewhat  of  mutation  :  yet  as  the  former  of  these  cannot  be  de- 
monstrated insnfiicient.  (nor  shall  we  ever  n^ckon  oursehfs  pinched  in  this 
matter  till  we  see  tliat  plainly  and  fully  done.)  so  they  are  very  obstinately 
blind  that  cannot  see  upon  the  addition  of  the  latter  the  vast  diflertnce  of 
these  two  cases:  viz.  the  lacile  silent  egress  of  a  snflicient  power,  in 
pur-uance  to  a  calm,  complacential.  eternal  purpose  ;  for  the  pn  i  uction 
of  this  crea'ion.  by  which  the  agent  acts  not  upon  itself,  but  upon  iis  own 
creature  made  by  its  own  aci ion  :  and  the  e'eiTal.  blind,  unpovemed  action 
of  matter  upon  itself,  by  which  it  is  perpetually  chanting  itself,  while  yet 
it  is  snppost d  necessarily  w hat  it  was  beliire.  And  how  much  mon;  easily 
conceivable  that  is,  than  this  ;  how  also  lilierty  of  action  consists  with  ne- 
cessity of  existence,  divers  have  shown:  to  which  puriio-e  somewhat  not 
inconsiderable  may  be  seen.  Ficin.  lib.  2.  cap.  ^•3.  Of  iinviorro'.  <$•<"  But  in 
this  there  can  be  little  pretence  to  imagine  a  diflicuhy.  For  our  own  lieinp, 
though  not  simply,  yet  as  to  us  is  necessary,  1.  e.  it  is  imposed  upon  us : 
for  we  come  no'  into  being  bv  our  own  choice  :  and  yet  are  conscious  to  our- 
selves of  no  prejudice  herebv  to  our  lil>ertv  of  acting.  Yea.  ajid  not  only  doth 
the  former  consist  with  tliis  latter,  but  is  inferred  by  it.  Of  w liich  see  GMenf 
de  Ijben.  Dei,  4-  creat. 


.4 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  L 


But  if  it  be  said,  though  eternity  be  not  the  measure  of 
one  change,  it  may  be  of  infinite  changes,  endlessly  suc- 
ceeding one  another;  even  this  also  will  be  found  contra- 
dictious and  impossible.  For,  (not  to  trouble  the  reader 
with  the  more  intricate  controversy  of  the  possibility  or 
impossibility  of  infinite  or  eternal  succession,  about  which 
they  who  have  a  mind  may  consult  others, t)  if  this  signify 
any  thing  to  the  present  purpose,  it  must  mean  the  infinite 
or  eternal  chaiiges  of  a  necessary  being.  And  how  these 
very  terms  do  clash  with  one  another,  methinks  any  sound 
mind  might  apprehend  at  the  first  mention  of  them  ;  and 
how  manifestly  repugnant  the  things  are,  may  be  collected 
from  what  hath  been  said  ;  and  especially  from  what  was 
thought  more  fit  to  be  annexed  in  the  margin. 

But  now  since  we  find  that  the  present  state  of  things  is 
changeable, and  actually  changing, and  that  what  is  change- 
able is  not  necessarily, and  of  itself;  and  since  it  is  evident 
that  there  is  some  necessary  being;  (otherwise  nothing 
could  ever  have  been,  and  that  without  action  nothing 
could  be  from  it ;)  since  also  all  change  imports  somewhat 
of  passion,  and  all  passion  supposes  action,  and  all  action 
active  power,  and  activ^e  power  an  original  seat  or  subject, 
that  is  self-active,  or  that  hath  the  power  of  action  ill  and 
of  itself ;  (for  there  could  be  no  derivation  of  it  from  that 
which  hath  it  not,  and  no  first  derivation,  but  from  that 
which  hath  it  originally  of  itself;  and  a  first  derivation 
there  must  be,  since  all  things  that  are,  or  ever  have  been, 
furnished  with  it,  and  not  of  themselves,  must  either  me- 
diately or  immediately  have  derived  it  from  that  which  had 
it  of  itself ;)  it  is  therefore  manifest  that  there  is  a  neces- 
sary, self-active  Being,  the  Cause  and  Author  of  this  per- 
petually variable  state  and  frame  of  things.    And  hence, 

XV.  6.  Since  we  can  frame  no  notion  of  life  which 
self-active  power  doth  not,  at  least,  comprehend,  (as  upon 
trial  we  shall  fmd  that  we  cannot,)  it  is  consequent,  that 
this  Being  is  also  originally  vital,  and  the  root  of  all  vi- 
tality, such  as  hath  life  in  or  of  itself,  and  from  whence 
it  is  propagated  to  every  other  living  thing." 

And  so  as  we  plainly  see  that  this  sensible  world  did 
sometime  begin  to  be,  it  is  also  evident  that  it  took  its  be- 
ginning from  a  Being  essentially  vital  and  active,  that 
had  itself  no  beginning.  Nor  can  we  make  a  difficulty 
to  conclude,  that  this  Being  (which  now  we  have  shown 
is  active,  and  all  action  implies  some  power)  is, 

XVI.  7.  Of  vast  and  mighty  power,  (we  wall  not  say 
infinite,  lest  we  should  step  too  far  at  once ;  not  mind- 
ing now  to  discuss  whether  creation  require  infinite 
power,)  when  we  consider  and  contemplate  the  vastness 
of  the  work  performed  by  it.  Unto  which  (if  we  were 
to  make  our  estimate  by  nothing  else)  we  must,  at  lea.st, 
judge  this  power  to  be  proportionable.  For  when  our 
eyes  behold  an  effect  exceeding  the  power  of  any  cause 
which  they  can  behold,  our  mind  must  step  in  and  supply 
the  defect  of  our  feebler  sense ;  so  as  to  make  a  judgment 
that  there  is  a  cause  we  see  not,  equal  to  this  effect.  As 
when  we  behold  a  great  and  magnificent  fabric,  and  en- 
tering in  we  see  not  the  master,  or  any  living  thing, 
(which  was  Cicero's  observation'*'  in  reference  to  this 
present  purpose,)  besides  mice  and  weasels,  we  will  not 
think  that  mice  or  weasels  built  it.  Nor  need  we  in  a 
matter  so  obvious,  insist  further.  But  only  when  our  se- 
verer reason  hath  made  us  confess,  our  further  contem- 

Elation  should  make  us  admire,  a  power  which  is  at  once 
oth  so  apparent  and  so  stupendous. 


Corollary.  And  now,  from  what  hath  been  hitherto 
discoursed,  it  seems  a  plain  and  necessary  consecta- 
ry,  that  this  world  had  a  cause  div^erse  from  the  mat- 
ter whereof  it  is  composed. 

For   otherwise  matter  that  hath  been  more  generally 

t  Parker  Tentara.  Physico=Thool.  Dcrodoii.  Philoa.  cont.  Dr.  More's  En- 
cWrid.  Metaptiys.  . 

u  Wliich  will  also  prove  it  to  be  a  Spirit ;  unto  which  order  of  beings  es- 
sential vitality,  or  that  life  be  essential  to  tliem,  seems  as  di.stin^iisliiii^  a  pro- 
jjorty  between  it  and  a  body,  as  any  other  wi;  can  fasten  iiimn  ;  that  is.  tliat 
thoiijch  a  body  may  be  truly  s.iid  to  live,  yet  it  lives  by  a  lifi-  tlj.it  i-  :i,  ilil'iil.il, 
uiid  separable  from  it,  so  as  that  it  may  ce.-xse  to  live,  and  yfl  1"  n  linlv  ~'ill  ; 
wlicrons  a  spirit  lives  by  its  own  essence  ;  so  tliat  it  can  no  niun  .•.<.-••  u,  Ir  . 
lliuii  to  bo.    And  as  where  that  eiicncc  ii  bjrrowod  and  denv.'d  i.,]ly,  as  it  is 


taken  to  be  of  itself  altogether  unactive,  must  be  stated 
the  only  cause  and  fountain  of  all  the  action  and  motion 
that  is  now  to  be  foimd  in  the  whole  universe :  which  is 
a  conceit,  wild  and  absurd  enough  ;  not  only  as  it  opposes 
the  common  judgment  of  such  as  have  with  the  greatest 
diligence  inquired  into  things  of  this  nature,  but  as  being 
in  itself  manifestly  impossible  to  be  true  ;  as  would  easily 
appear,  if  it  were  needful  to  press  further  Dr.  More's* 
reasonings  to  this  purpose  ;  which  he  hath  done  sufficient- 
ly for  himself. 

And  also  that  otherwise  all  the  great  and  undeniable 
changes  which  continually  happen  in  it  must  proceed 
from  its  own  constant  and  eternal  action  upon  itself,  while 
it  is  yet  feigned  to  be  a  necessary  being;  with  the  notion 
whereof  they  are  notoriously  inconsistent.  Which  there* 
fore  we  taking  to  be  most  clear,  may  now  the  more  se- 
curely proceed  to  what  follow. 


CHAPTER  in. 

Wisdom  asserted  to  belon?  to  tliis  Being.  The  production  of  this  world  by  a 
mighty  agent  destitute  of  wisdom  impossible.  On  consideration  of,  1.  What 
would  be  adverse  to  this  production.  2.  What  would  be  wanting  -,  some 
effects  to  which  a  designing  cause  will,  on  all  hands,  be  confessed  necessary, 
haling  manifest  characters  of  skill  and  design  upon  them.  Absurd  here  to 
accept  the  works  of  nature  ;  wherein  at  least  equal  characters  of  wisdom 
and  design  are  to  be  seen,  as  in  any  the  most  confessetl  pieces  of  art,  in- 
stanced in  the  frame  and  motion  of  heavenly  bodies.  A  mean,  unptiilo- 
sophical  temper,  to  be  more  taken  with  novelties,  than  common  tilings  of 
greater  importance.  Further  instance,  in  the  composition  of  the  bodies  of 
animals.  Two  contrary  causes  of  men's  not  acknowledging  the  wisdom  of 
their  Maker  herein.  Progress  is  made  from  the  consideration  of  the  parts 
and  frame,  to  the  powers  and  functions,  of  terrestrial  creatures.  Grouth, 
nutrition,  propagation  of  kind.  Spontaneous  motion,  sensation.  The  pre- 
tence considered,  that  the  bodies  of  animals  are  machines,  1.  How  impro- 
bable it  is.  2,  How  little  to  the  purpose.  The  powers  of  the  human  soul. 
It  appears,  notwlthstanAing  them,  it  had  a  cause  ;  by  them,  a  wi.ie  and  in- 
telligent cause.  It  is  not  matter.  That  not  capable  of  reason.  They  not 
here  reflected  on  who  think  reasonable  souls  made  of  refined  matter,  by  the 
Creator.  Not  being  matter,  nor  arising  from  thence,  it  must  have  a  cause 
that  is  intelligent.    Goodness  belonging  to  this  Being. 

T.  We  therefore  add,  that  this  Being  is  wise  and  in- 
telligent, as  well  as  powerful ;  upon  the  very  view  of  this 
world,  it  will  appear  so  vast  power  was  guided  by  equal 
wisdom  in  the  framing  of  it.  Though  this  is  wont  to  be 
the  principal  labour  in  evincing  the  existence  of  a  Deity, 
namely,  the  proving  that  this  universe  owes  its  rise  to  a 
wise  and  designing  cause;  (as  may  be  seen  in  Cicero's 
excellent  performance  in  this  kind,  and  in  divers  later 
writers ;)  yet  the  placing  so  much  of  their  endeavour 
herein,  seems  in  great  part  to  have  proceeded  hence,  that 
this  hath  been  chosen  for  the  great  medium  to  prove  that 
it  had  a  cause  diverse  from  itself.  But  if  that  once  be 
done  a  shorter  way,  and  it  fully  appear  tliat  this  world 
is  not  itself  a  necessary  being,  having  the  power  of  all 
the  action  and  motion  to  be  found  in  it,  of  itself; 
(which  already  seems  plain  enough;)  and  it  do  most 
evidently  thence  also  appear  to  have  had  a  cause  foreign 
to,  or  distinct  from,  itself;  though  we  shall  not  there- 
fore the  more  carelessly  consider  this  subject ;  yet  no  place 
of  doubt  seems  to  remain,  but  that  this  was  an  intelligent 
cause,  and  that  this  world  was  the  product  of  wisdom  and 
counsel,  and  not  of  mere  power  alone.  For  what  imagi- 
nation can  be  more  grossly  absurd,  than  to  suppose  this 
orderly  frame  of  things  to  have  been  the  result  of  so 
mighty  power,  not  accompanied  or  guided  by  wisdom  and 
counsel  1  that  is,  (as  the  ca.se  must  now  unavoidably  be 
understood,)  that  there  is  some  being  necessarily  existent, 
of  an  essentially  active  nature,  of  inconceivably  vast 
and  mighty  power  and  vigour,  destitute  of  all  under- 
standing and  knowledge,  and  consequently  of  any  self- 
moderating  principle,  but  acting  always  by  the  necessity 
of  its  own  nature,  and  therefore  to  its  very  uttermost, 
that  raised  up  all  the  alterable  matter  of  the  universe  (to 
whose  nature  it  is  plainly  repugnant  to  be  of  itself,  or  exist 

with  all  created  spirits,  so  its  life  must  neeils  be  therewithal :  so  tlie  eternal, 
self-subsisling  Spirit,  lives  necessarily,  and  of  itself,  according  as  necessarily 
and  of  itself  it  is,  or  hath  its  being, 

W^hich  is  only  annoted,  with  a  design  not  to  trouble  this  discourse  with  any 
<ii-'l*;isition  concemitig  the  nature  and  other  properties  of  a  spiritual  Bciiig. 
Of  wiiich  enough  hath  been,  with  great  evidence,  said,  by  the  incomparable 
Dr.  :\!c>r.:-. 

\v  Tlr  Niitiira  nconim, 

X  bciili  in  lii,s  Immortality  of  the  Soul;  and  Enchirid.  Metaphys. 


ClIAP.  III. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


15 


necessarily)  out  of  nothing:-,  and  by  the  utmost  exertion  of 
that  ungoverned  power,  put  all  the  parts  and  particles  of 
that  matter  into  a  wild  hurry  of  impetuous  motion,  by 
which  they  have  been  compacted  and  digested  into  parti- 
cular beings,  in  that  variety  and  order  which  we  now  be- 
hold. And  surely  to  give  this  account  of  the  world's 
original,  is,  as  Cicero  speaks,  not  to  consider,  but  to  cast 
lots  what  to  say;  and  were  as  mad  a  supposition,  "as  if 
one  should  suppose  the  one-and-twenty  letters,  formed  (as 
the  same  author  elsewhere  speaks)  in  great  numbers,  of 
gold,  or  what  you  please  else,  and  cast  of  any  careless 
fashion  together,  and  that  of  these  loosely  shaken  out  upon 
the  ground,  Eimius's  Annals  should  result,  so  as  to  be  dis- 
tinctly legible  as  now  we  see  them."  Nay,  it  were  the 
supposition  of  a  thing  a  thousand-fold  more  manifestly 
impossible. 

II.  For  before  we  consider  the  gross  absurdity  of  such  a 
supposed  production,  that  is,  that  a  thing  should  be  brought 
to  pass  by  so  mere  a  casualty,  that  so  evidently  requires  an 
exquisitely-formed  and  continued  design,  even  though  there 
were  nothing  positively  to  resist  or  hinder  it,  let  it  be  con- 
sidered what  there  will  be  that  cannot  but  most  certainly 
hinder  any  such  production.  To  this  purpose  we  are  to 
consider,  that  it  is  a  vast  power  which  so  generally  moves 
the  diffused  matter  of  the  universe. 

Hereof  make  an  estimate,  by  considering  what  is  requi- 
site to  the  continual  w^hirling  about  of  such  huge  bulks  as 
this  whole  massy  globe  of  earth ;  (according  to  .some ;)  or, 
which  is  much  more  strange,  the  sun,  (according  to  others,) 
with  that  inconceivably  swift  motion  which  this  supposi- 
tion makes  necessary,  together  with  the  other  planets,  and 
the  innumerable  heavenly  bodies  besides,  that  are  subject 
to  the  laws  of  a  continual  motion.  Adding  hereto  how 
mighty  a  power  it  is  which  must  be  sufficient  to  all  the 
productions,  motions,  and  actions,  of  all  other  things. 

Again,  consider  that  all  this  motion,  and  motive  power, 
must  have  some  source  and  fountain  diverse  from  the  dull 
and  sluggish  matter  moved  thereby,  unto  which  it  already 
hath  appeared  impossible  it  should  originally  and  essen- 
tially belong. 

Next,  that  the  mighty,  active  Being,  which  hath  been 
proved  necessarily  existent,  and  whereto  it  must  first  be- 
long, if  we  suppose  it  destitute  of  the  self-moderating  prin- 
ciple of  wisdom  and  counsel,  cannot  but  be  always  exert- 
ing its  motive  power,  invarialily  and  to  the  same  degree  : 
that  is,  to  its  very  utmost,  and  can  never  cease  or  fail  to 
do  so.  For  its  act  knows  no  limit  but  that  of  its  power  ; 
(if  this  can  have  any ;)  and  its  power  is  essential  to  it,  and 
its  essence  is  necessary. 

Further,  that  the  motion  impressed  upon  the  matter  of 
the  universe  must  hereupon  necessarily  have  received  a 
continual  increase,  ever  since  it  came  into  being. 

That  supposing  this  motive  power  to  have  been  exerted 
from  eternity,  it  must  have  been  increased  long  ago  to  an 
infinite  excess. 

That  hence  the  coalition  of  the  particles  of  matter  for 
the  forming  of  any  thing  had  been  altogether  impossible. 
For  let  us  suppose  this  exerted,  motive  power  to  have  been, 
any  instant,  but  barely  sufficient  for  such  a  formation,  be- 
cause that  could  not  be  despatched  in  an  instant,  it  would 
by  its  continual,  momently  increase,  be  grown  so  over-suf- 
ficient, as,  in  the  next  instant,  to  dissipate  the  particles,  but 
now  beginning  to  unite. 

At  least,  it  would  be  most  apparent,  that  if  ever  such  a 
frame  of  things  as  we  now  behold  could  have  been  produ- 
ced, that  motive  power,  increased  to  so  infinite  an  excess, 
must  have  shattered  the  whole  frame  in  pieces,  many  an 
age  ago;  or  rather,  never  have  permitted  that  such  a  thing, 
as  we  call  an  age,  could  possibly  have  been. 

Our  experience  gives  us  not  to  observe  any  so  destructive 
or  remarkable  changes  in  the  course  of  nature  :  and  this 
(as  was  long  ago  foretold)  is  the  great  argument  of  the 
atheistical  scoffers  in  these  latter  days,  that  things  are  as 
they  were  from  the  beginning  of  the  creation  to  this  day. 
But  let  it  be  soberly  weighed,  how  it  is  possible  the  gene- 
ral consistency,  which  we  observe  things  are  at  through- 
out the  universe,  and  their  steady,  orderly  posture,  can 
.stand  with  this  momently  increase  of  motion. 

a  D.  Cartes  Princip.  Philosopli.  part  2. 


And  that  such.an  increase  could  not,  upon  the  supposi- 
tion we  are  now  opposing,  but  have  been,  is  most  evident. 
For,  not  to  insist  that  nothing  of  impressed  motion  is  ever 
lost,  but  only  imparted  to  other  tilings,  (which  they  that 
suppose  it,  do  not  Uierejore  suppose,  as  if  they  thought, 
being  once  impressed,  it  could  continue  of  itself,  but  that 
there  is  a  constant,  equal  supply  from  the  first  mover,)  we 
will  admit  that  there  is  a  continual  decrease,  or  loss,  but 
never  to  the  degree  of  its  continual  increase.  For  we  see 
when  w^e  throw  a  stone  out  of  our  hand,  whatever  of  the 
impressed  force  it  do  impart  to  the  air,  through  which  it 
makes  its  way,  or  nut  being  received,  vanishes  of  itself,  it 
yet  retains  a  part  a  considerable  time,  that  carries  it  all  the 
length  of  its  journey,  and  all  does  not  vanish  and  die  away 
on  the  sudden.  Therefore,  when  we  here  consider  the 
continual,  momently  renewal  of  the  same  force,  always 
necessarily  going  forth  from  the  same  mighty  Agent,  with- 
out any  moderation  or  restraint;  every  following  impetus 
doth  so  immediately  overtake  the  former,  that  whatever 
we  can  suppose  lost,  is  yet  so  abundantly  over-supplied, 
that,  upon  the  whole,  it  cannot  fail  to  be  ever  growing, 
and  to  have  grown  to  that  all-destroying  excess  before 
mentioned.  Whence,  therefore,  that  famed  restorer  and 
improver  of  some  principles  of  the  ancient  philosophy, 
hath  seen  a  necessity  to  acknowledge  it,  as  a  manifest  thing, 
"  That  God  himself  is  the  universal  and  primary  cause  of 
all  the  motions  that  are  in  the  world,  who  in  the  beginning 
created  matter,  together  with  motion  and  rest ;  and  doth 
now,  by  his  ordinar}'  concourse  onl}-.  continue  so  much  of 
motion  and  rest  in  it,  as  he  first  put  iiuo  it. — For  (saith  he) 
we  understand  it  as  a  perfection  in  God,  not  only  that  he 
is  unchangeable  in  him.self,  but  that  he  works  after  a  most 
constant  and  unchangeable  manner.  So  that,  excepting 
those  changes  which  either  evident  experience  or  divine 
revelation  renders  certain,  and  which  we  know  or  believe 
to  be  without  change  in  the  Creator,  we  ought  to  suppose 
none  in  his  works,  lest  thereb\'  any  incon.stancy  should  be 
argued  in  himself."'^  Whereupon  he  grounds  the  laws 
and  rules  concerning  motion,  which  he  afterwards  lays 
down,  whereof  we  referred  to  one,  a  little  above. 

It  is  therefore  evident,  that  as  without  the  supposition  of 
a  self-active  Being  there  could  be  no  such  thing  as  motion  ; 
so  without  the  supposition  of  an  intelligent  Being,  (that  is, 
that  the  same  Being  be  both  self-active  and  intclUgetd,) 
there  could  be  no  regular  motion ;  such  as  is  absolutely 
necessary  to  the  forming  and  continuing  of  any  the  com- 
pacted, bodily  substances,  which  our  eyes  behold  every 
day :  yea,  or  of  any  whatsoever,  suppose  we  their  figures, 
or  shapes,  to  be  as  rude,  deformed,  and  useless,  as  we  c£m 
imagine;  much  less,  such  as  the  exquisite  compositions, 
and  the  exact  order  of  things,  in  the  universe,  do  evidently 
require  and  discover. 

III.  And  if  there  were  no  such  thing  carried  in  this  sup- 
position, as  is  positively  adverse  to  what  is  supposed,  so 
as  most  certainly  to  hinder  it,  (as  we  see  plainly  there  is,) 
yet  the  mere  want  of  what  is  necessary  to  such  a  produc- 
tion, is  enough  to  render  it  impossible,  and  the  supposition 
of  it  absurd.  For  it  is  not  only  absurd  to  suppose  a  pro- 
duction ^vhich  somewhat  shall  certainly  resist  and  hinder, 
but  which  wants  a  cause  to  effect  it ;  and  it  is  not  less 
absurd,  to  suppose  it  affected  by  a  manifestly  insufficient 
and  unproportionable  cause,  than  b\'  none  at  ail.  For  as 
nothing  can  be  produced  without  a  cause,  so  no  cause  can 
work  above  or  beyond  its  own  capacity  and  natural  apti- 
tude. Whatsoever  therefore  is  ascribed  to  anj'  cause,  above 
and  beyond  its  ability,  all  that  surplusage  is  ascribed  to  no 
cause  at  all :  and  so  an  effect,  in  that  part  at  least,  were 
supposed  without  a  cause.  And  if  then  it  follow  when  an 
effect  is  produced,  that  it  had  a  cause  ;  Mhy  doth  it  not 
ecjually  follow,  when  an  effect  is  produced,  having  mani- 
fest characters  of  wisdom  and  design  upon  it,  that  it  had  a 
wise  and  designing  cause  1  If  it  be  said,  there  be  scune 
fortuitous  cir  casual  (at  least  undesigned)  productions,  that 
look  like  the  effects  of  wisdom  and  contrivance,  but  indeed 
are  not,  as  the  birds  so  orderly  and  seasonalily  making 
their  nests,  the  bees  their  comb,  and  the  spider  its  web, 
which  are  capable  of  no  design :  that  exception  needs  to 
be  wpH  proved  before  it  be  admitted  :  and  that  it  be  plainly 
demonstrated,  both  that  these  creatures  are  not  capable  of 
design,  and  that  there  is  not  a  universal,  designing  cause, 


16 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  I. 


from  whose  directive  as  well  as  operative  influence,  no 
imaginable  efl'ect  or  event  can  be  exempted;  (in  which 
case  it  will  no  more  be  necessary,  that  every  creature  that 
is  observed  steailily  to  work  towards  an  end,  should  itself 
design  and  know  it,  than  that  an  artificer's  tools  should 
know  what  he  is  doing  with  them:  but  if  they  do  not,  it  is 
plain  he  must;)  and  surely  it  lies  upon  them  who  so  ex- 
cept, to  prove  in  this  case  what  they  say,  and  not  be  so 
precarious  as  to  beg  or  think  us  so  easy,  as  to  grant  so 
much,  only  because  they  have  thought  fit  to  say  it,  or 
would  fain  have  it  so.  That  is,  that  this  or  that  strange 
event  happened  without  any  designing  cause. 

IV.  But,  however,  I  would  demand  of  such  as  rnake 
this  exception,  whether  they  think  there  be  any  effect  at 
all,  to  which  a  designing  cause  was  necessary,  or  which 
they  will  judge  impossible  to  have  been  otherwise  pro- 
duced, than  by  the  direction  and  contrivance  of  wisdom 
and  counsell  I  little  doubt  but  there  are  thousands  of 
things,  laboured  and  wrought  by  the  hand  of  man,  con- 
cerning which  they  would  presently,  upon  first  sight,  pro- 
nounce they  were  the  etfects  of  skill,  and  not  of  chance; 
yea,  if  they  only  considered  their  frame  and  shape,  though 
they  )'et  understood  not  their  use  and  end.  They  would 
surely  think  (at  least)  some  effects  or  other  sufhcient  to 
argue  to  us  a  designing  cause.  And  would  they  but  so- 
berly consider  and  resolve  what  characters  or  footsteps  of 
wisdom  and  design  might  be  reckoned  suflicient  to  put  us 
out  of  doubt,  would  they  not,  upon  comparing,  be  brought 
to  acknowledge  there  are  no  whei:eany  more  conspicuous 
and  manifest,  than  in  the  things  daily  in  view,  that  go  or- 
dinarily, with  us,  under  the  name  of  tke  works  of  nature  7 
Whence  it  is  plainly  consequent,  that  what  men  com- 
monly call  universal  nature,  if  they  would  be  content  no 
longer  to  lurk  in  the  darkness  of  an  obscure  and  uninter- 
preted word,  they  must  confess  is  nothing  else  but  com- 
mon providence,  that  is,  the  universal  poiver  which  is  every 
where  active  in  the  world,  in  conjunction  with  the  mier- 
ring  ivisdom  which  guides  and  moderates  all  its  exertions 
and  operations;  or  the  wisdom  which  directs  and  governs 
that  power.  Otherwise,  when  they  see  cause  to  acknow- 
ledge that  such  an  exact  order  and  disposition  of  parts,  in 
very  neat  and  elegant  compositions,  doth  plainly  argue 
wisdom  and  skill  in  the  contrivance;  only  they  will  dis- 
tinguish, and  say,  It  is  so  in  the  effects  of  art,  but  not  of 
natur",.  What  is  this,  but  to  deny  in  particular  what 
they  granted  in  general  1  to  make  what  they  have  said 
signify  nothing  more  than  if  they  had  said.  Such  exqui- 
site order  of  parts  is  the  efiect  of  wisdom,  where  it  is  the 
effect  of  wisdom,  but  it  is  not  the  effect  of  wisdom,  where 
it  is  not  the  effect  of  wisdom  1  and  to  trifle,  instead  of 
giving  a  reason  why  things  are  so  and  so  1  And  whence 
take  they  their  advantage  for  this  trifling,  or  do  hope  to 
hide  their  folly  in  it,  but  that  they  think,  while  what  is 
meant  by  art  is  known,  what  is  meant  by  nature  cannot 
be  known  1  But  if  it  be  not  known,  how  can  they  tell  but 
their  distinguishing  members  are  co-incident,  and  run  into 
one  1  Yea,  and  if  they  would  allow  the  thing  itself  to 
speak,  and  the  effect  to  confess  and  dictate  the  name  of 
its  own  cause,  how  plain  is  it  that  they  do  run  into  one, 
and  that  the  expression  imports  no  impropriety  which  we 
somewhere  find  in  Cicero  ;  The  art  of  nature ;  or  rather, 
that  nature  is  nothing  else  but  divine  art,  at  least  in  as 
near  an  analogy  as  there  can  be,  between  any  things  di- 
vine and  human.  For,  that  this  matter  (even  the  thing 
itself,  waving  for  the  present  the  consideration  of  names) 
may  be  a  little  more  narrowly  discussed  and  searched 
into,  let  some  curious  piece  of  worlcmanship  be  offered  to 
such  a  sceptic's  view,  the  making  whereof  he  did  not  see, 
nor  of  any  thing  like  it ;  and  we  will  suppose  him  not  told 
that  this  was  made  by  the  hand  of  any  man,  nor  that  he 
hath  any  thing  to  guide  his  judgment  about  the  way  of  its 
becoming  what  it  is,  but  only  his  own  view  of  the  thing 
itself;  and  yet  he  shall  presently,  without  hesitation,  pro- 
nounce. This  was  the  eflfect  of  much  skill.  I  would  here 
inquire,  Why  do  you  so  pronounce  7  Or,  What  is  the  rea- 
son of  this  your  judgment  1  Surely  he  would  not  say  he 
hath  no  reason  at  all  for  this  so  confident  and  unwavering 
determination  ;  for  then  he  would  not  be  determined,  but 
speak  by  chance,  and  be  indifferent  to  say  that,  or  any 
thing  else.    Somewhat  or  other  there  must  be,  that,  when 


he  is  asked.  Is  this  the  effect  of  skilll  shall  so  suddenly 
and  irresistibly  captivate  him  into  an  assent  that  it  is,  that 
he  cannot  think  otherwise.  Nay,  if  a  thousand  men  weie 
asked  the  same  question,  they  would  as  undoubtedly  say 
the  same  thing ;  and  then,  since  there  is  a  reason  for  this 
judgment,  what  can  be  devised  to  be  the  reason,  but  that 
there  are  so  manifest  characters  and  evidences  of  skill  in 
the  composure,  as  are  not  attributable  to  any  thing  CISC'! 
Now  here  I  would  further  demand,  Is  there  any  thing  in 
this  reason,  yea,  or  no?  Doth  it  signify  any  thing,  or  is 
it  of  any  value  to  the  purpose  for  which  it  is  alleged  1 
Surely  it  is  of  very  great,  inasmuch  as,  when  it  is  con- 
sidered, it  leaves  it  not  in  a  man's  power  to  think  any 
thing  else  ;  and  what  can  be  said  more  potently  and  efh- 
caciously  to  demonstrate  1  But  now,  if  this  reason  signify 
any  thing,  it  signifies  thus  much ;  that  wheresoever  there 
are  equal  characters,  and  evidences  of  skill,  (at  least 
where  there  are  equal,)  a  skilful  agent  must  be  acknow- 
ledged. And  so  it  will  (in  spite  of  cavil)  conclude  uni- 
versally, and  abstractedly  from  what  we  can  suppose  dis- 
tinctly signified  by  the  terms  oi  art,  and  nature,  that  what- 
soever effect  hath  such  or  equal  characters  of  skill  upon 
it,  did  proceed  from  a  skilful  cause.  That  is,  that  if  this 
effect  be  said  to  be  from  a  skilful  cause,  as  such,  {viz.  as 
having  manifest  characters  of  skill  upon  it,)  then,  every 
such  effect,  {viz.  that  hath  equally  manifest  characters  of 
skill  upon  it,)  must  be,  with  equal  reason,  concluded  to 
be  from  a  skilful  cause. 

We  will  acknowledge  skill  to  act,  and  wit  to  contrive, 
very  distinguishable  things, and  in  reference  to  some  works, 
(as  the  making  some  curious  automato7i,  or  self-moving 
engine,)  are  commonly  lodged  in  divers  subjects;  that  is, 
the  contrivance  exercises  the  wit  and  invention  of  one, 
and  the  making,  the  manual  dexterity  and  skill  of  others: 
but  the  manifest  characters  of  both  will  be  seen  in  the  ef- 
fect. That  is,  the  curious  elaborateness  of  each  several 
part  shows  the  latter ;  and  the  order  and  dependence  of 
parts,  and  their  conspiracy  to  one  common  end,  the  former. 
Each  betokens  design  ;  or  at  least  the  smith  or  carpenter 
must  be  understood  to  design  his  own  part,  that  is,  to  do 
as  he  was  directed:  both  together,  do  plainly  bespeak  an 
agent,  that  knew  what  he  did ;  and  that  the  thing  was  not 
done  by  chance,  or  was  not  the  casual  product  of  only 
being  busy  at  random,  or  making  a  careless  stir,  with- 
out aiming  at  any  thing.  And  this,  no  man  that  is  in 
his  wits,  would,  upon  sight  of  the  whole  frame,  more 
doubt  to  assent  unto,  than  that  two  and  two  make  four. 
And  he  would  certainly  be  thought  mad,  that  should  pro- 
fess to  think  that  only  by  some  one's  making  a  blustering 
stir  among  several  small  fragments  of  brass,  iron,  and 
wood,  these  parts  happened  to  be  thus  curiously  formed, 
and  came  together  into  this  frame,  of  their  own  accord. 

Or  lest  this  should  be  thought  to  intimate  too  rude  a 
representation  of  their  conceit,  Avho  think  this  world  to  have 
fallen  into  this  frame  and  order,  wherein  it  is,  by  the  agi- 
tation of  the  moving  parts,  or  particles  of  matter,  without 
the  direction  of  a  wi.se  mover:  and  that  we  may  also 
make  the  case  as  plain  as  is  possible  to  the  most  ordinary 
capacity,  we  will  suppose  (for  instance)  that  one  who  had 
never  before  seen  a  watch,  or  any  thing  of  that  sort,  hath 
now  this  little  engine  first  offered  to  his  view;  can  we 
doubt,  but  he  would  upon  the  mere  sight  of  its  figure, 
structure,  and  the  very  curious  workmanship  which  we 
will  suppose  appearing  in  it,  presently  acknowledge  the 
artificer's  hand"?  But  if  he  were  also  made  to  understand 
the  use  and  purpose  for  which  it  serves,  and  it  were  dis- 
tinctly shown  him  how  each  thing  contributes,  and  all  things 
in  this  little  fabric  concur  to  this  purpose,  the  exact  measur- 
ing and  dividing  of  time  by  minutes,  hours,  and  months, 
he  would  certainlj'both  confess  and  praise  the  great  inge- 
nuity of  the  first  inventor.  But  now  if  a  b)'--stander,  be- 
holding him  in  this  admiration,  would  imderlake  to  show 
a  profounder  reach  and  strain  of  wit,  and  should  say,  Sir, 
you  are  mistaken  concerning  the  composition  of  this  so 
much  admired  piece  ;  it  was  not  made  or  designed  by  the 
hand  or  skill  of  any  one;  there  were  only  an  innumerable 
company  of  little  atoms  or  very  small  bodies,  much  too 
small  to  be  perceived  by  your  sense,  that  were  busily  frisk- 
ing and  plying  to  and  fro  about  I  he  place  of  its  nativity;  and 
by  a  strange  chance  (or  a  stranger  fate,  and  the  necessary 


Chap.  III. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


n 


laws  of  that  motion  which  the}'  were  unavoidably  put  into, 
by  a  certain  boisterous,  undesigning  mover)  they  fell 
together  into  this  small  bulk,  so  as  to  compose  it  into  this 
very  shape  and  figure,  and  with  this  same  number  and 
order  of  parts  which  you  now  behold :  one  squadron  of 
these  busy  particles  (little  thinking  what  they  were  about) 
agreeing  to  make  up  one  wheel,  and  another  some  other, 
in  that  proportion  which  you  see  :  others  of  them  also 
falling,  and  becoming  fixed  in  so  happy  a  posture  and 
situation,  as  to  describe  the  several  figures  by  which  the 
little  moving  fingers  point  out  the  hour  of  the  day,  and 
day  of  the  month  :  and  all  conspired  to  fall  together,  each 
into  its  own  place,  in  so  lucky  a  juncture,  as  that  the  re- 
gular motion  failed  not  to  ensue  which  we  see  is  now 
observed  in  it, — what  man  is  either  so  wise  or  so  foolish 
(for  it  is  hard  to  determine  whether  the  excess  or  defect 
should  best  qualify  him  to  be  of  this  faith)  as  to  be  capable 
of  being  made  believe  this  piece  of  natural  history?  And 
if  one  should  give  this  account  of  the  production  of  such  a 
trifle,  would  he  not  be  thought  in  jest "?  But  if  he  persist, 
and  solemnly  profess  that  thus  he  takes  it  to  have  been, 
would  he  not  bethought  in  good  earnest  mad  1  And  let 
but  any  sober  person  judge  whether  we  have  not  unspeak- 
ably more  manifest  madness  to  contend  against  in  such  as 
suppose  this  world,  and  the  bodies  of  living  creatures,  to 
have  fallen  into  this  frame  and  orderly  disposition  of  parts 
wherein  they  are,  without  the  direction  of  a  wise  and  de- 
signing cause  1  And  whether  there  be  not  an  incomparably 
greater  number  of  most  wild  and  arbitrary  suppositions  in 
their  fiction  than  in  this  7  Besides  the  innumerable  sup- 
posed repetitions  of  the  same  strange  chances  all  the  world 
over  ;  even  as  numberless,  not  only  as  productions,  but  as 
the  changes  that  continually  happen  to  all  the  things  pro- 
duced. And  if  the  concourse  of  atoms  could  make  this 
world,  why  not  (for  it  is  but  little  to  mention  such  a  thing 
as  this)  a  porch,  or  a  temple,  or  a  house,  or  a  city,  (as 
Tally  speaks  in  the  before-recited  place,)  which  were  less 
operose  and  much  more  easy  performances'? 

V.  It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  all  should  be  astrono- 
mers, anatomists,  or  natural  philosophers,  that  shall  read 
these  lines;  and  therefore  it  is  intended  not  to  insist  upon 
particulars,  and  to  make  as  little  use  as  is  possible  of  terms 
that  would  only  be  agreeable  to  that  supposition.  But 
surely  such  general,  easy  reflections  on  the  frame  of  the 
uni\'erse,  and  the  order  of  parts  in  the  bodies  of  all  sorts 
of  living  creatures,  as  the  meanest  ordinary  understanding 
is  capable  of,  would  soon  discover  incomparably  greater 
evidence  of  wisdom  and  design  in  the  contrivance  of  these, 
than  in  that  of  a  watch  or  a  clock.  And  if  there  were  any 
whose  understandings  are  but  of  that  size  and  measure  as 
to  suppose  that  the  whole  frame  of  the  heavens  serves  to 
no  other  purpose  than  to  be  of  some  such  use  as  that,  to  us 
mortals  here  on  earth  ;  if  they  would  but  allow  themselves 
leisure  to  think  and  consider,  might  discern  the  most  con- 
vincing and  amazing  discoveries  of  wise  contrivance  and 
design  (as  well  as  of  vastest  might  and  power)  in  disposing 
things  into  so  apt  a  subserviency  to  that  meaner  end. 
And  that  so  exact  a  knowledge  is  had  thereby  of  times 
and  seasons,  days  and  years,  as  that  the  simplest  idiot  in 
a  country  may  be  able"to  tell  you,  when  the  light  of  the 
sun  is  withdrawn  from  his  eyes,  at  what  time  it  Mnll  return, 
and  when  it  will  look  in  at  such  a  window,  and  Avhen  at 
the  other ;  and  by  what  degrees  his  days  and  nights  shall 
either  increase  or  be  diminished  ;  and  what  proportion  of 
time  he  shall  have  for  his  labours  in  this  season  of  the 
year,  and  what  in  that ;  without  the  least  suspicion  or  fear 
that  it  shall  ever  fall  out  otherwise. 

But  that  some  in  later  days  whose  more  enlarged  minds 
have  by  diligent  search  and  artificial  helps,  got  clearer 
notices  (even  than  most  of  the  more  learned  of  former 
times)  concerning  the  true  frame  and  vastness  of  the  uni- 
verse, the  matter,  nature,  and  condition  of  the  heavenly 
bodies,  their  situation,  order,  and  laws  of  motion;  and  the 
great  probability  of  their  serving  to  nobler  purposes,  than 
the  greater  part  of  learned  men  have  ever  dreamed  of  be- 
fore ;  that,  I  say,  any  of  these  should  have  chosen  it  for  the 
employment  of  their  great  intellects,  to  devise  ways  of  ex- 
cluding intellectual  power  from  the  contrivance  of  this 

b  Lib.  ?.    De  usu  part,  ex  Lacun.  Epit. 


frame  of  things,  having  so  great  advantages  beyond  the 
most  of  mankind  besides  to  contemplate  and  adore  the 
great  Author  and  Lord  of  all,  is  one  of  the  greatest  won- 
ders that  comes  under  our  notice;  and  might  tempt  even 
a  sober  mind  to  prefer  vulgar  and  popular  ignorance,  be- 
fore their  learned,  philosophical  deliration. 

VI.  Though  yet,  indeed,  not  their  philosophy  by  which 
they  would  be  distinguished  from  the  common  sort,  but 
what  they  have  in  common  wiih  them,  ought  in  justice  to 
bear  theblame.  For  it  isnot  evident,  how  much  soever  they 
reckon  themselves  exalted  above  the  vulgar  sort,  that  their 
miserable  shifting  in  this  matter  proceeds  only  from  what 
is  most  meanly  so ;  i.  e.  their  labouring  under  the  most 
vulgar  and  meanest  diseases  of  the  mind,  disregard  of 
what  is  common,  and  an  aptness  to  place  more  in  the 
strangeness  of  new,  unexpected,  and  surprising  events, 
than  in  things  unspeakably  more  consideiable,  that  are  of 
every  day's  observation "?  Than  which  nothing  argues  a 
more  abject,  nnphilosophical  temper. 

For  let  us  but  suppose  (what  no  man  can  pretend  is 
more  impossible,  and  what  any  man  must  confess  is  less 
considerable,  than  what  our  eyes  daily  see)  that  in  some 
part  of  the  air  near  this  earth,  and  within  such  limits  as 
that  the  whole  scene  might  be  conveniently  beheld  at  one 
view,  there  should  suddenly  appear  a  little  globe  of  pure 
flaming  light  resembling  that  of  the  sun  ;  and  suppose  it 
fixed  as  a  centre  to  another  body,  or  moving  about  that 
other  as  its  centre,  (as  this  or  that  h3'pothesis  best  pleases 
us,)  which  we  could  plainly  perceive  to  be  a  proporlion- 
ably-little  earth,  beautified  with  little  trees  and  woods, 
flowery  fields,  and  flowing  rivulets  with  larger  lakes  into 
which  these  discharge  themselves  ;  and  suppose  we  the 
other  planets  all  of  proportionable  bigness  to  the  narrow 
limits  assigned  them,  placed  at  their  due  distances,  and 
playing  about  this  supposed  earth  or  sun,  so  as  to  measure 
their  shorter  and  soon  absolved  days,  months,  and  years, 
or  two,  twelve,  or  thirty  years,  according  to  their  supposed 
lesser  circuits ; — would  they  not  presently,  and  with  great 
amazement,  confess  an  intelligent  contriver  and  maker  of 
this  whole  frame,  above  a  Posidonius  or  any  mortal  ]  And 
have  we  not  in  the  present  frame  of  things  a  demonstration 
of  wisdom  and  counsel,  as  far  exceeding  that  which  is  now 
supposed,  as  the  making  some  toy  or  bauble  to  please  a 
child  is  less  an  argument  of  wisdom  than  the  contrivance 
of  somewhat  that  is  of  apparent  and  universal  use  7  Or,  if 
we  could  suppose  this  present  state  of  things  to  have  but 
newly  begun,  and  ourselves  pre-existent,  so  that  we  could 
take  notice  of  the  very  pa.ssing  of  things  out  of  horrid  con- 
fusion into  the  comely  order  they  are  now  in,  would  not 
this  put  the  matter  out  of  doubt  7  And  that  this  state  had 
once  a  beginning  needs  not  be  proved  over  again.  But 
might  what  would  yesterday  have  been  the  effect  of  wis- 
dom, better  have  been  brought  about  by  chance  five  or  six 
thousand  }'ears,  or  any  longer  time  ago  1  It  speaks  not 
want  of  evidence  in  the  thing,  but  want  of  consideration, 
and  of  exercising  our  understandings,  if  Avhat  were  new 
would  not  only  convince  but  astonish,  and  what  is  old,  of 
the  same  importance,  doth  not  so  much  as  convince  1 

VII.  And  let  them  that  understand  any  thing  of  the  com- 
position of  ahumanbody  (or  indeed  of  any  livingcrcature) 
but  bethink  themselves  whether  there  be  not  equal  contri- 
vance at  least,  appearing  in  the  composure  of  that  admir- 
able fabric,  as  of  any  the  most  admired  machine  or  engine 
devised  and  made  by  human  wit  and  skill.  If  we  pitch 
upon  anv  thing  of  known  and  common  use,  as  suppose 
again  a  clock  or  watch,  which  is  no  sooner  seen  than  ii  is 
acknowledged  (as  halh  been  said)  the  eflect  of  a  designing 
caitse  ;  will  we  not  confess  as  much  of  the  body  of  a  man  ? 
Yea,  what  comparison  is  there,  when  in  the  structure  of 
some  one  single  member,  as  a  hand,  a  foot,  an  eye,  or  ear, 
there  appears  upon  a  diligent  search,  unspeakablv greater 
curiositv,  whether  we  consider  the  variety  of  parts,  their 
exquisite  figuration,  or  their  apt  disposition  to  the  distinct 
uses  and  ends  these  members  serve  for,  than  is  to  be  seen 
in  any  clock  or  watch  1  Concerningwhich  uses  of  the  seve- 
ral parts  in  man's  body,  Galen, ^  so  largely  discoursing  in 
seventeen  books,  inserts  on  the  by,  this  epiphonema,  upon 
the  mention  of  one  particular  instance  of  our  most  wise 


18 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  I. 


Maker's  provident  care;  "  Unto  whom  (saith  he)  I  com- 
pose these  commentaries,"  (meaning  his  present  work  of 
unfolding  the  useful  figuration  of  the  human  body,)  "  as 
certain  hymns,  or  songs  of  praise,  esteeming  true  piety 
more  to  consist  in  this,  that  I  first  may  know,  and  then 
declare  to  others,  his  wisdom,  power,  providence,  and 
goodness,  than  in  sacrificing  to  him  many  hecatombs:  and 
in  the  ignorance  whereof  there  is  greatest  impiety,  rather 
than  in  abstaining  from  sacrifice.*^  Nor"  (as  he  adds  in 
the  close  of  that  excellent  work)  "  is  the  most  perfect  natu- 
ral artifice  to  be  seen  in  man  only ;  but  you  may  find  the 
like  industrious  design  and  wisdom  of  the  Author,  in  any 
living  creature  which  you  shall  please  to  dissect :  and  by 
how  much  the  less  it  is,  so  much  the  greater  admiration 
shall  it  raise  in  you;  which  those  artists  show,  that  describe 
some  great  thing  (contractedly)  in  a  very  small  space:  as 
thai  person  (saith  he)  who  lately  engraved  Phaeton  carried 
in  his  chariot  with  his  four  horses  upon  a  little  ring — a 
most  incredible  sight '.  But  there  is  nothing  in  matters  of 
this  nature,  more  strange  than  in  the  structure  of  the  leg 
of  a  flea."  How  much  more  might  it  be  said  of  all  its  in- 
ward parts  !  "  Therefore  (as  he  adds)  the  greatest  com- 
modity of  such  a  work  accrues  not  to  physicians,  but  to 
them  who  are  studious  of  nature,  viz.  the  knowledge  of 
our  Maker's  perfection,  and  that  (as  he  had  said  a  little 
above)  it  establishes  the  principle  of  the  most  perfect  theo- 
log}',  which  theology  (sailh  he)ismuchmoreexcellent  than 
all  medicine." 

It  were  too  great  an  undertaking,  and  beyond  the  de- 
signed limits  of  this  discourse,  (though  it  would  be  to  ex- 
cellent purpose,  if  it  could  be  done  without  amusing  terms, 
and  in  that  easy,  familiar  way  as  to  be  capable  of  common 
use,)  to  pursue  and  trace  distinctly  the  prints  and  footsteps 
of  the  admirable  wisdom  which  appears  in  the  structure 
and  frame  of  this  outer  temple.  For  even  our  bodies  them- 
selves are  said  to  be  the  temples  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  1  Cor. 
vi.  19.  And  to  dwell  a  while  in  the  contemplation  and 
discovery  of  those  numerous  instances  of  most  apparent, 
ungainsayable  sagacity  and  providence  which  offer  them- 
selves to  view  in  every  part  and  particle  of  this  fabric;  how 
most  commodiously  all  things  are  ordered  in  it  !  With 
how  strangely  cautious  circumspection  and  foresight,  not 
only  destructive,  hut  even  (perpetually)  vexatious  and 
afflicting,  incongruities  are  avoided  and  provided  against, 
to  pose  ourselves  upon  the  sundry  obvious  questions  that 
might  be  put  for  the  evincing  of  such  provident  foresight. 
As  for  instance,  how  comes  it  to  pass  that  the  several  parts 
which  we  find  to  be  double  in  our  bodies,  are  not  single 
only  '?  Is  this  altogether  by  chance  1  That  there  are  two 
eyes,  ears,  nostrils,  hands,  feet,  &c.  what  a  miserable, 
shiftless  creature  had  man  been,  if  there  had  only  been 
allowed  him  one  foot  1  a  seeing,  hearing,  talking,  un- 
moving  statue.  That  the  hand  is  divided  into  fingers  1 
those  so  conveniently  situate,  one  in  so  fitly  opposite  a 
posture  to  the  rest  1 

And  what  if  some  one  pair  or  other  of  these  parts  had 
been  universally  wanting  1  The  hands,  the  feet,  the  eyes, 
the  ears.  How  great  a  misery  had  it  inferred  upon  man- 
kind !  and  is  it  only  a  casualty  that  it  is  not  so  ■?  That 
the  back-bone  is  composed  of  so  many  joints,  (twenty- four, 
besides  those  of  that  which  is  the  basis  and  sustainer  of  the 
whole,)  and  is  not  all  of  a  piece,  by  which  stooping,  or  any 
motion  of  the  head  or  neck,  diverse  from  that  of  the  whole 
body,  had  been  altogether  impossible;  that  there  is  such 
variety  and  curiosity  in  the  ways  of  joining  the  bones  to- 
gether in  that,  and  other  parts  of  the  body  ;  that  in  some 
parts,  they  are  joined  by  mere  adherence  of  one  to  another,! 
cither  with  or  without  an  intervening  medium,  and  both 
these  ways,  so  diversely;  that  others  are  fastened  together 
by  proper  jointing,  so  as  to  suit  and  be  accompanied  with 
motion,  either  more  obscure  or  more  manifest,  and  this, 
cither  by  a  deeper  or  more  superficial  insertion  of  onebone 
into  another,  or  by  a  mutual  insertion,  and  that  so  different 
ways ;  and  that  all  these  should  be  exactly  accommodated 
to  the  several  parts  and  uses  to  which  they  belong  and 
serve  : — was  all  this  without  design  1     Who,  that  views 

r.  Sub.  fill.  I  17. 
d  Fiiirtliolin.  Riolanu's. 

c  flow  foolish  to  think  that  art  intendod  an  end  in  making  a  window 
to  sne  thruugli,  and  that  nature  iiileiidcd  none  in  making  an  eye  to  see 


the  curious  and  apt  texture  of  the  eye,  can  think  it  was  not 
made  on  purpose  to  see  with,'  and  the  ear,  upon  the  like 
view,  for  hearing,  when  so  many  things  must  concur  that 
these  actions  might  be  performed  by  these  organs,  and  are 
found  to  do  so  1  Or  who  can  think  that  the  sundry  little 
engines  belonging  to  the  eye  were  not  made  with  design  to 
move  it  upwards,  do'viTiwards,  to  this  side  or  that,  or  whirl 
it  about  as  there  should  be  occasion  ;  without  which  in- 
struments and  their  appendages,  no  such  motion  could 
have  been  1  Who,  that  is  not  stupidly  perverse,  can  think 
that  the  sundry  inward  parts  (which  it  would  require  a 
volume  distinctly  to  speak  of,  and  but  to  mention  them 
and  their  uses  would  too  unproportionably  swell  this  part 
of  this  discourse)  were  not  made  purposely  by  a  designing 
Agent,  for  the  ends  they  so  aptly  and  constantly  serve  for"? 
The  want  of  some  one  among  divers  whereof,  or  but  a  little 
misplacing,  or  if  things  had  been  but  a  little  otherwise  than 
they  are,  had  inferred  an  impossibility  that  such  a  creature 
as  man  could  have  subsisted,  or  been  propagated  upon  the 
face  of  the  earth.  As  what  if  there  had  not  been  such  a 
receptacle  prepared  as  the  stomach  is,  and  so  formed,  and 
placed  as  it  is,  to  receive  and  digest  necessary  nutriment  If 
Had  not  the  whole  frame  of  man  besides  been  in  vain  1 
Or  what  if  the  passage  from  it  downward  had  not  been 
somewhat  a  little  way  ascending,  so  as  to  detain  a  conve- 
nient time  what  is  received,  but  that  what  was  taken  in 
were  suddenly  transmitted  1  It  is  evident  the  whole 
structure  had  been  ruined  as  soon  as  made.  What  (to  in- 
stance in  what  seems  so  small  a  matter)  if  that  little  cover 
had  been  wanting  at  the  entrance  of  that  passage  through 
which  we  breathe;  (the  depression  whereof  by  the  weight 
of  what  we  eat  or  drink,  shuts  it  and  prevents  meat  and 
drink  from  going  down  that  way  ;)  had  not  tmavoidable 
suffocation  ensued  1  And  who  can  number  the  instances 
that  might  be  given  besides  1  Now  when  there  is  a  concur- 
rence of  so  many  things  absolutely  necessary,  (concerning 
which  the  common  saying  is  as  applicable,  more  frequently 
wont  to  be  applied  to  matters  of  morality,  "  Goodness  is 
from  the  concurrence  of  all  causes  ;  evil  from  any  defect,") 
each  so  aptly  and  opportunely  serving  its  own  proper  use, 
and  all  one  common  end,  certainly  to  say  that  so  manifold, 
so  regular,  and  stated  a  subserviency  to  that  end,  and  the 
end  itself,  were  imdesigned,  and  things  casually  fell  out 
thus,  is  to  say  we  know  or  care  not  what. 

We  will  only,  before  we  close  this  consideration,  con- 
cerning the  mere  frame  of  a  human  body,  (which  hath  been 
so  hastily  and  superficially  proposed,)  offer  a  supposition 
which  is  no  more  strange  (excluding  the  vulgar  notion  by 
which  nothing  is  strange,  but  what  is  not  common)  than 
the  thing  itself,  as  it  actually  is ;  viz.  That  the  whole 
more  external  covering  of  the  body  of  a  man  were  made, 
instead  of  skin  and  flesh,  of  some  very  transparent  sub- 
stance, flexible,  but  clear  as  very  crystal;  through  which, 
and  the  other  more  inward  (and  as  transparent)  integu- 
ments or  enfoldings,  we  could  plainly  perceive  the  situation 
and  order  of  all  the  internal  parts,  and  how  they  each  of 
them  perform  their  distinct  offices  :  if  we  could  discern  the 
continual  motion  of  the  blood,  how  it  is  conveyed  by  its 
proper  conduits,  from  its  first  source  and  fountain,  partly 
downwards  to  the  lower  entrails,  (if  rather  it  ascend  not 
from  thence,  as  at  least  what  afterwards  becomes  blood 
doth,)  partly  upwards,  to  its  admirable  elaboratory,  the 
heart ;  where  it  is  refined  and  furnished  with  fresh  vital 
spirits,  and  so  transmitted  thence  by  the  distinct  vessels 
prepared  for  this  purpose:  could  we  perceive  the  curiou.s 
contrivance  of  those  little  doors,  by  which  it  is  let  in  and 
out,  on  this  side  and  on  that ;  the  order  and  course  of  its 
circulation,  its  most  commodious  distribution  by  two  social 
channels,  or  conduit-pipes,  that  every  where  accompany 
one  another  throughout  the  body:  could  we  discern  the 
curious  artifice  of  the  brain,  its  ways  of  purgation  ;  and 
were  it  possible  to  pry  into  the  secret  chambers  and  recep- 
tacles of  the  less  or  more  pure  spirits  there ;  perceive  theii 
manifold  conveyances,  and  the  rare  texture  of  that  net, 
commonly  called  the  u-onderful  one :  could  we  behold  the 
veins,  arteries,  and  nerves,  all  of  them  arising  from  their 

with  i  as  Canipanella  in  that  rapturous  discourse  of  liis  Atheismiia  triimipha- 
tu.s.  .    . 

f  Non  prodest  cibus  neqne  corpori  acccdit,  qui  statim  sumptus  emittitur. 
Seneca  (on  another  occasion.) 


Ckap.  III. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


19 


proper  and  distinct  originals !  and  their  orderly  dispersion 
for  the  most  part,  by  pairs  and  conjugations,  on  this  side 
and  that,  from  the  middle  of  the  back;  with  the  curiously 
wrought  branches,  which,  supposing  these  to  appear  duly 
diversified,  as  so  many  more  duskish  strokes  in  this  trans- 
parent frame,  they  would  be  found  to  make  throughout  the 
whole  of  it ;  were  every  smaller  fibre  thus  made  at  once  dis- 
cernible; especially  thi)se  innumerable  threads  into  which 
the  spinal  marrow  is  distributed  at  the  bottom  of  the  back : 
and  could  we,  through  the  some  medium,  perceive  those 
numerous  little  machines  made  to  serve  unto  voluntary 
motions,  (which  in  the  whole  body  are  computed,  by  some,? 
to  tlie  number  of  four  hundred  and  thirty,  or  thereabouts, 
or  so  many  of  them  as  according  to  the  present  supposi- 
tion could  possibly  come  in  view,)  and  discern  their  com- 
position ;  their  various  and  elegant  figures — round,  square, 
long,  triangular,  &c.  and  behold  them  do  their  offices,  and 
see'how  they  ply  to  and  fro,  and  work  in  their  respective 
places,  as  any  motion  is  to  be  performed  by  them :  were 
all  these  things,  I  say,  thus  made  liable  to  an  easy  and 
distinct  view,  who  would  not  admiringly  cry  out,  How 
fearfully  and  wonderfully  am  Iviade?     And  sure  there  is 
no  man  sober,  who  would  not,  upon  such  a  sight,  pro- 
nounce that  man  mad,  that  should  suppose  such  a  produc- 
tion to  have  been  a  mere  undesigned  casualty.     At  least, 
if  there  be  any  thing  in  the  world  that  may  be  thought  to 
carry  sufficiently  convincing  evidences  in  it,  of  its  having 
been  made  industriously,  and  on  purpose,  not  by  chance, 
would   not  this   composition,   thus   offered    to   view,   be 
esteemed  to  do  so  much  more"?     Yea,  and  if  it  did  only 
bear  upon  it  characters  equally  evidential,  of  wisdom  and 
design,  with  ivhat  doth  certainly  so,  though  in  the  lowest 
degree,  it  were  sufficient  to  evince  our  present  purpose. 
For  if  one  such  instance  as  this  would  bring  the  matter  no 
higher  than  to  a  bare  equality,  that  would  at  least  argue  a 
maker  of  man's  body,  as  wise,  and  as  properly  designing, 
as  the  artificer  of  any  such  slighter  piece  of  workmanship, 
that  may  yet,  certainly,  be  concluded  the  effect  of  skill  and 
design.     And   then,  "enough  might  be  said,  from  other 
instances,  to  manifest  him  unspeakably  superior.     And 
that  the  matter  would  be  brought,  at  least,  to  an  equality ,_ 
upon  the  supposition  now  made,  there  can  be  no  doubt,  if 
any  one  be  judge  that  hath  not  abjured  his  understanding 
and  his  eyes  together.    And  what  then,  if  we  lay  aside  that 
supposition,  (which  only  somewhat   gratifies  fancy  and 
imagination,)  doth  that  alter  the  case  1    Or  is  there  the  less 
of  wisdom  and  contrivance  expressed  in  this  work  of  form- 
ing man's  body,  only  for  that  it  is  not  so  easily  and  sud- 
denly obvious  to  our  sight  1     Then  we  might  with  the 
same  reason  say,  concerning  some  curious  piece  of  carved 
work,  that  is  thought  fit  to  be  kept  locked  up  in  a  cabinet, 
when  we  see  it,  that  there  was  admirable  workmanship 
shown  in  doing  it ;  but  as  soon  as  it  is  again  shut  up  in 
its  repository,  that  there  was  none  at  all.     Inasmuch  as  we 
speak  of  the  objective  characters  of  wisdom  and  design, 
that  are  in  the  thing  itself,  (though  they  must  some  way 
or  other  come  under  our  notice,  otherwise  we  can  be  capa- 
ble of  arguing  nothing  from  them,  yet,)  since  we  have  suf- 
ficient assurance  that  there  really  are  such  characters  in  the 
structure  of  the  body  of  man  as  have  been  mentioned,  and 
a  thousand  more  than  have  been  thought  necessary  to  be 
mentioned  here ;  it  is  plain  that  the  greater  or  less  facility 
of  finding  them  out,  so  that  we  be  at  a  certainty  that  they 
are,  (whether  by  the  slower  and  more  gradual  search  of 
our  own  eyes,  or  by  relying  upon  the  testimony  of  such  as 
have  purchased  themselves  that  satisfaction  by  their  own 
labour  and  diligence,)  is  merely  accidental  to  the  thing 
itself  we  are  discoursing  of;  and  neither  adds  to,  nor  de- 
tracts from,  the  rational  evidence  of  the  present  argument. 
Or  if  it  do  either,  the  more  abstruse  paths  of  divine  wis- 
dom in  this,  as  in  other  things,  do  rather  recommend  it  the 
more  to  our  adoration  and  reverence,  than  if  every  thing 
were  obvious,  and  lay  open  to  the  fir.st  glance  of  a  more 
careless  eye.     The  things  which  we  are  sure  (or  may  be, 
if  we  do  not  shut  our  eyes)  the  wise  Maker  of  this  world 
hath  done,  do  sufficiently  serve  to  assure  us  that  he  could 
have  done  this  also;  that  is,  have  made  every  thing  in  the 
frame  and  shape  of  our  bodies  conspicuous  in  the  way  but 


g  Rlolanus. 


h  Parker  Tentani.    Pliysico-Tlieol. 


now  supposed,  if  he  had  thought  it  fit.  He  hath  done 
greater  things.  And  since  he  hath  not  thought  that  fit, 
we  may  be  bold  to  say,  the  doing  of  it  would  signify 
more  trifling,  and  less  design.  It  gives  us  a  more  amiable 
and  comely  representation  of  the  Being  we  are  treating 
of,  that  his  works  are  less  for  ostentation  than  use ;  and 
that  his  wisdom  and  other  attributes  appear  in  them  rather 
to  the  instruction  of  sober,  than  the  gratification  of  vain 
minds. 

We  may  therefore  confidently  conclude,  that  the  figura- 
tion of  the  human  body  carries  with  it  as  manifest,  un- 
questionable evidences  of  design,  as  any  piece  of  human 
artifice,  that  most  confessedly,  in  the  judgment  of  any  man, 
doth  so ;  and  therefore  had  as  certainly  a  designing  cause. 
We  may  challenge  the  world  to  show  a  disparity,  unless 
it  be  that  the  advantage  is  unconceivably  great  on  our  side. 
For  would  not  any  one  that  hath  not  abandoned  at  once 
both  his  reasonii  and  his  modesty,  be  ashamed  to  confess 
and  admire  the  skill  that  is  shown  in  making  a  statue,  of 
the  picture  of  a  man,  that  (as  one  ingeniously  says^  is  but 
the  shadow  of  his  skin,  and  deny  the  wisdom  that  ap- 
pears in  the  composure  of  his  body  itself,  that  contains 
so  numerous  and  so  various  engines  and  instruments  for 
sundry  purposes  in  it,  as  that  it  is  become  an  art,  and 
a  very  laudable  one,  but  to  discover  and  find  out  the 
art  and  skill  that  are  shown  in  the  contrivance  and  forma- 
tion of  them "? 

VIII.  It  is  in  the  mean  time  strange  to  consider  from  how 
diflferent  and  contrary  causes  it  proceeds,  that  the  wise 
Contriver  of  this  fabric  hath  not  his  due  acknowledgments 
on  the  account  of  it.  For  with  some,  it  proceeds  from 
their  supine  and  drowsy  ignorance,  and  that  they  little 
know  or  think  what  prints  and  footsteps  of  a  Deity  they 
carry  about  them,  in  (heir  bone  and  flesh,  in  every  part  and 
vein  and  limb.  With  others,  (as  if  too  much  learning  had 
made  them  mad,  or  an  excess  of  light  had  struck  them  into 
mopish  blindness,)  these  things  are  so  well  known  and  seen, 
so  common  and  obvious,  that  they  are  the  less  regarded. 
And  because  they  can  give  a  very  punctual  account  that 
things  are  so,  they  think  it,  now,  not  worth  the  consider- 
ing^how  they  come  to  be  so.  They  can  trace  all  these  hidden 
paths  and  footsteps,  and  therefore  all  seems  very  easy,  and 
they  give  over  wondering.  As  they  that  would  detract 
from  Columbus's  acquists  of  glory  by  the  discovery  he  had 
made  of  America, i  by  pretending  the  achievement  was 
easy;  whom  he  ingeniously  rebuked,  by  challenging  them 
to  make  an  egg  stand  erect,  alone,  upon  a  pfain  table; 
which  when  none  of  them  could  do,  he  only  by  a  gentle 
bruising  of  one  end  of  it  makes  it  stand  on  the  table  with- 
out other  support,  and  then  tells  them  this  was  more  easy 
than  his  voyage  to  America,  now  they  had  seen  it  done; 
before,  thej^  knew  not  how  to  go  about  it.  Some  may 
think  the  contrivance  of  the  bodv  of  a  man,  or  other  animal, 
easy,  now  they  know  it ;  but  had  they  been  to  project  such 
a  model  without  a  pattern,  or  any  thing  leading  thereto, 
how  miserable  a  loss  had  they  been  at !  How  easy  a  con- 
fession had  been  drawn  frorii  thein  of  the  finger  of  God, 
and  how  silent  a  submission  to  his  just  triumph  over  their 
and  all  human  wit,  when  the  most  admired  performances 
in  this  kind,  bv  any  mortal,  have  been  only  faint  and  in- 
finitely distant"  imitations  of  the  works  of  God  !  As  is  to 
be  seen  in  the  so  much  celebrated  exploits  of  Posidonius, 
Resfiomontanus,  and  others  of  this  sort. 

IX.  And  now  if  any  should  be  either  so  incurably  blind 
as  not  to  perceive,  or  so  perversely  wilful  as  not  to  acknow- 
ledge an  appearance  of  wisdom  in  the  frame  and  figuration 
of  the  bodv  of  an  animal  (peculiarly  of  man)  more  than 
equal  to  what  appears  in  any  the  miost  exquisite  piece  of 
human  artifice,  and  which  no  wit  of  man  can  ever  fully 
imitate;  although,  as  hath  been  said,  an  acknowledged 
equality  would  suffice  to  evince  a  wise  maker  thereof,  yet 
because  it  is  the  existence  of  God  we  are  now  speaking  of, 
and  that  it  is  therefore  not  enough  to  evince,  but  to  mag- 
nify, the  wisdom  we  would  ascribe  to  him;  we  shall  pass 
from  the  parts  and  frame,  to  the  consideration  of  the  more 
principal  powers  and  functions  of  terrestrial  creatures; 
a.scending  from  .such  as  agree  to  the  less  perfect  orders  of 
these,  to  those  of  the  more  perfect,  vi~.  of  man  himselC 

i  Arclibishop  Abbot's  Gis-g. 


20 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  i. 


And  surely  to  have  been  the  Author  of  faculties  that  shall 
enable  to  such  functions,  will  evidence  a  wisdom  that 
defies  our  imitation,  and  will  dismay  the  attempt  of  it. 

We  begin  with  that  of  groicth.  Many  sorts  of  rare  en- 
£^ines  we  acknowledge  contrived  by  the  wit  of  man,  but 
who  hath  ever  made  one  that  could  grow,  or  that  had  in  it 
a  self-improving  power!  A  tree,  an  herb,  a  pile  of  grass, 
may  upon  this  account  challenge  all  the  world  to  make 
such  a  thing.  That  is,  to  implant  the  power  of  growing 
into  any  thing  to  which  it  doth  not  natively  belong,  or  to 
make  a  thing  to  which  it  doth. 

By  what  art  would  they  make  a  seed  1  And  which  way 
would  they  inspire  it  with  a  seminal  form  1  And  they  that 
think  this  whole  globe  of  the  earth  was  compacted  by  the 
casual  (or  fatal)  coalition  of  particles  of  matter,  by  what 
magic  would  they  conjure  so  many  to  come  together  as 
should  make  one  clod  7  We  vainly  himt  with  a  lingering 
mind  after  miracles ;  if  we  did  not  more  vainly  mean  by 
them  nothing  else  but  novelties,  we  are  compassed  about 
with  such.  And  the  greatest  miracle  is,  that  we  see  them 
not.  You  with  whom  the  daily  productions  of  nature  (as 
you  call  it)  are  so  cheap,  see  if  you  can  do  the  like.  Try 
your  skill  upon  a  rose.  Yea,  but  you  must  have  pre- 
existent  matter  1  But  can  you  ever  prove  the  Maker  of  the 
world  had  so,  or  even  defend  the  possibility  of  uncreated 
matter  1  And  suppose  they  had  the  free  grant  of  all  the 
matter  between  the  crown  of  their  head  and  the  moon, 
could  they  tell  what  to  do  with  it,  or  how  to  manage  it, 
so  as  to  make  it  yield  them  one  single  flower,  that  they 
might  glory  in,  as  their  own  production! 

And  what  mortal  man,  that  hath  reason  enough  about 
him  to  be  serious,  and  to  think  awhile,  would  not  even  be 
amazed  at  the  miracle  oinutritioii?  Or  that  there  are  things 
in  the  world  capable  of  nourishment!  Or  who  would 
attempt  an  imitation  here,  or  not  despair  to  perform  any 
thing  like  it!  That  is,  to  make  any  nourishable  thing. 
Are  we  not  here  infinitely  out-done  !  Do  not  we  see  our- 
selves compassed  about  with  wonders,  and  are  we  not 
ourselves  such,  in  that  we  see,  and  are  creatures,  from  all 
whose  parts  there  is  a  continual  defluxion,  and  yet  that 
receive  a  constant  gradual  supply  and  renovation,  by  which 
they  are  continued  in  the  same  state  !  As  the  bush  burn- 
ing, but  not  consumed.  It  is  easy  to  give  an  artificial 
frame  to  a  thing  that  shall  gradually  decay  and  waste  till 
it  quite  be  gone,  and  disappear.  You  can  raise  a  structure 
of  snow,  that  would  .soon  do  that.  But  can  your  manual 
skill  compose  a  thing  that,  like  our  bodies,  shall  be  con- 
tinually melting  away,  and  be  continually  repaired,  through 
so  long  a  tract  of  time !  Nay,  but  you  can  tell  how  it  is 
done ;  you  know  in  what  method,  and  by  what  instruments, 
food  is  received,  concocted,  separated,  and  so  much  as 
must  serve  for  nourishment,  turned  into  chyle,  and  that 
into  blood,  first  grosser,  and  then  more  refined,  and  that 
distributed  into  all  parts  for  this  purpose.  Yea,  and  what 
then  !  Therefore  you  are  as  wise  as  your  Maker.  Could 
you  have  made  such  a  thing  as  the  stomach,  a  liver,  a 
heart,  a  vein,  an  artery  !  Or  are  you  so  very  sure  what  the 
digestive  quality  is  !  Or  if  you  are,  and  know  what  things 
best  serve  to  maintain,  to  repair,  or  strengthen  it ;  who  im- 
planted that  quality!  both  where  it  is  so  immediately 
u.seful,  or  in  the  other  things  you  would  use  for  the  service 
of  that !  Or  how,  if  such  things  had  not  been  prepared  to 
your  hand,  would  you  have  devised  to  persuade  the  par- 
ticles of  matter  into  so  useful  and  happy  a  conjuncture,  as 
that  such  a  quality  might  result  !  Or,  (to  speak  more  suit- 
ably to  the  most,)  how,  if  you  had  not  been  shown  the 
way,  woukl  you  have  thought  it  were  to  be  done,  or  which 
way  would  you  have  gone  to  work,  to  turn  meat  and  drink 
into  flesh  and  blood ! 

Nor  is  propagation  of  their  own  kind,  by  the  creatures 
that  have  that  faculty  implanted  in  them,  less  admirable, 
or  more  possible  to  be  imitated  by  any  human  device. 
Such  productions  stay  in  their  first  descent.  Who  can, 
by  his  own  contrivance,  find  out  a  way  of  making  any 
thing  that  can  produce  another  like  itself.'  What  machine 
did  ever  man  invent,  that  had  this  power  !  And  the  ways 
and  means  by  which  it  is  done,  are  .such  (though  he  that 
can  do  all  things  well  knew  how  to  compass  his  ends 

k  Des  Cartes  de  passioniUia  aiiima;,  part  1.  atmie  alibi. 


by  them)  as  do  exceed  not  our  understanding  only,  but  our 
wonder. 

And  what  shall  we  sa.y  of  spontomeoiis  motion,  wherewith 
we  find  also  creatures  endowed  that  are  so  mean  and 
despicable  in  our  eyes,  (as  well  as  ourselves,)  that  is,  that 
so  silly  a  thing  as  a  fly,  a  gnat,  &c.  should  have  a  power 
in  it  to  move  itself,  or  stop  its  owai  motion,  at  its  own 
pleasure!  How  far  have  all  attempted  imitations  in  this 
kind  fallen  short  of  this  perfection  !  And  how  much  more 
excellent  a  thing  is  the  smallest  and  mo.st  contemptible 
insect,  than  the  most  admired  machine  we  ever  heard  or 
read  of;  (as  Archytas  Tarentinus's  dove,  so  anciently  cele- 
brated ;  or  more  lately,  Regiomontanus's  fly,  .or  his  eagle, 
or  any  the  like;)  not  only  as  having  this  peculiar  power, 
above  any  thing  of  this  sort,  but  as  having  the  sundry  other 
poicers,  besides,  meeting  in  it,  whereof  these  are  wholly 
destitute  ! 

And  should  we  go  on  to  instance  further  in  the  several 
powers  of  sensation,  both  external  and  internal,  the  various 
instincts,  appetitions,  passions,  sympathies,  antipathies, 
the  powers  of  memory,  (and  we  might  add,  of  speech,)  that 
we  find  the  inferior  orders  of  creatures  either  generally  fur- 
nished with,  or  some  of  them,  as  to  this  last,  disposed  unto. 
How  should  we  even  over-do  the  present  business;  and 
too  needlessly  insult  over  human  wit,  (which  we  must 
suppose  to  have  already  yielded  the  cause,)  in  challenging 
it  to  produce  and  offer  to  view^  a  hearing,  seeing  engine, 
that  can  imagine,  talk,  is  capable  of  hunger,  thirst,  of  desi  re, 
anger,  fear,  grief,  &c.  as  its  own  creature,  concerning  which 
it  may  glory  and  say,  I  have  done  this! 

Is  it  so  admirable  a  performance,  and  so  ungainsayable 
an  evidence  of  skill  and  wisdom,  with  much  labour  and 
long  travail  of  mind,  a  busy,  restless  agitation  of  working 
thoughts,  the  often  renewal  of  frustrated  attempts,  the 
varying  of  defeated  trials;  this  way  and  that  at  length  to 
hit  upon,  and  by  much  pains,  and  with  a  slow,  gradual 
progress,  by  the  use  of  who  can  tell  how  many  sundry 
sorts  of  instruments  or  tools,  managed  by  more  (possibly) 
than  a  few  hands,  by  long  hewing,  hammering,  turning, 
filing,  to  compose  one  only  single  machine  of  such  a  frame 
and  structure,  as  that  by  the  frequent  reinforcement  of  a 
skilful  hand,  it  may  be  capable  of  some  (and  that,  other- 
wise, but  a  very  short-lived)  motion  !  And  is  it  no  argu- 
ment, or  effect  of  wisdom,  so  easily  and  certainly,  without 
labour,  error,  or  disappointment,  to  frame  both  so  infinite 
a  variety  of  kinds,  and  so  innumerable  individuals  of  every 
such  kind  of  living  creatures,  that  cannot  only,  with  the 
greatest  facility,  move  themselves  with  so  many  sorts  of 
motion,  dowaiwards,  upwards,  to  and  fro,  this  way  or  that, 
with  a  progressive  or  circular,  a  swifter  or  a  slower,  motion, 
at  their  own  pleasure;  but  can  also  grow,  propagate,  see,- 
hear,  desire,  jov,  &e. !  Is  this  no  work  of  wisdom,  but 
only  blind  either  fate  or  chance  !  Of  how  strangely  per- 
verse and  odd  a  complexion  is  that  understanding,  (if  yet 
it  may  be  called  an  understanding,)  that  can  make  this 
judgment ! 

X.  And  they  think  they  have  found  out  a  rare  knack, 
and  that  gives  "a  great  relief  to  their  diseased  minds,  who 
have  learned  to  call  the  bodies  of  living  creatures,  (even 
the  human  not  excepted,)  by  way  of  diminution,  machines, 
or  a  sort  of  automatons  engines. 

But  how  little  cau.se  there  is  to  hug  or  be  fond  of  this 
fancy,  would  plainly  appear,  if,  first,  we  would  allow  our- 
.selves  leisure  to  examine  with  how  sviall  pretence  this  ap- 
pellation is  so  placed  and  applied:  and,  next,  if  it  be 
applied  rightly,  to  how  little  purpose  it  is  alleged ;  or  that 
it  signifies  nothing  to  the  exclusion  of  divine  wisdom 
from  the  formation  of  them. 

And  for  the  first,  because  we  know^  not  a  better,  let  it 
be  considered  how  defective  and  unsatisfying  the  account 
is,  which  the  greatk  and  justly  admired  master  in  this 
faculty  gives,  how  divers  of  those  things,  which  he  would 
have  to  be  so,  are  performed  only  in  the  mechanical 
way. 

For  though  his  ingenuity  must  be  acknowledged,  in  his 
modest  exception  of  sorte  noble  operations  belonging  to 
ourselves  from  coming  under  those  rigid  necessitating  laws^ 
yet  certainly,  to  the  severe  inquiry  of  one  not  partially 
addicted  to  the  sentiments  of  so  great  a  wit,  because  they 
were  his,  it  would  appear  there  are  great  defects,  and  many 


Cii.u'.  III. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


21 


things  yet  wanting,  in  the  account  which  is  given  us  of 
some  of  the  meaner  of  those  functions,  which  he  would 
attribute  only  to  organized  matter,  or  (to  use  his  own 
expression)  to  the  conformation  of  the  members  of  the 
body,  and  the  course  of  the  spirits,  excited  by  the  heat  of 
the  heart,  &c. 

For  howsoever  accurately  he  describes  the  instruments 
and  the  way,  his  account  seems  very  little  satisfying  of 
the  principle,  either  of  spontaneous  motion,  or  of  sensation. 
As  to  the  former,  though  it  be  very  apparent  that  the 
muscles,  seated  in  that  opposite  posture  wherein  they  are 
mostly  found  paired  throughout  the  body,  the  nerves  and 
the  animal  spirits  in  the  brain,  and  (suppose  we)  that  ^Za/i- 
dide  seated  in  the  inmost  part  of  it,  are  the  instruments  of 
the  motion  of  the  limbs  and  the  wholebody ;  3'et,  what  are 
all  these  to  the  prime  causation,  or  much  more,  to  the  spon- 
taneity of  this  motion  1     And  whereas,  with  us,  (who  are 
acknowledged  to  have  such  a  faculty  independent  on  (he 
body,)  an  act  of  will  doth  so  manifestly  contribute,  so  that, 
when  we  will,  our  body  is  moved  with  so  admirable  faci- 
lity, and  we  feel  not  the  cumbersome  weight  of  an  arm  to 
be  lifted  up,  or  of  our  whole  coporeal  bulk,   to  be  moved 
this  way  or  that,  by  a  slower  or  swifter  motion.  Yea,  and 
when  as  also,  if  we  will,  we  can,  on  the  sudden,  in  a  very 
instant,  start  up  out  of  the  most  composed,  sedentary  po.s- 
ture,  and  put  ourselves,  upon  occasion,  into  the  most  vio- 
lent course  of  motion  or  action.     But  if  we  have  no  such 
will,  though  we  have  the  same  agile  spirits  about  us,  we 
find  no  difficulty  to  keep  in  a  posture  of  rest ;  and  are,  for 
the  most  part,  not  sensible  of  any  endeavour  or  urgency  of 
those  active  particles,  as  if  they  were  hardly  to  be  restrained 
from  putting  us  into  motion ;  and  against  a  reluctant  act  of 
our  will,  we  are  not  moved  but  with  great  difficulty  to  them, 
and  that  will  give  themselves,  and  us,  the  trouble.     This 
being,  I  say,  the  case  with  us;  and  it  being  also  obvious 
to  our  observation,  that  it  is  so  very  much  alike,  in  these 
mentioned  respects,  with  brute  creatures, how  inconceivable 
is  it,  that  the  directive  principle  of  their  motions,  and  ours, 
should  be  so  vastly  and  altogether  unlike  1  (whatsoever 
greater  perfection  is  required,  with  us,  as  to  those  more 
noble  and  perfect  functions  and  operations  which  are  found 
to  belong  to  us.)    That  is,  that  in  us,  an  act  of  will  should 
signify  so  very  much,  and  be  for  the  most  part  necessary 
to  the  beginning,  the  continuing,  the  stopping,  or  the  va- 
rying of  our  motions;  and  in  them,  nothing  like  it,  nor  any 
thing  else  besides,  only  that  corporeal  principlei  which  he 
assigns  as  common  to  them  and  us,  the  continual  heat  in 
the  heart,  (which  he  calls  a  sort  of  fire,)  nourished  by  the 
blood  of  the  veins ;  the  instruments  of  motion  already  men- 
tioned, and  the  various  representations  and  impressions  of 
external  objects,  as  there  and  elsewhere™  he  expresses  him- 
self !     Upon  which  last,  (though  much  is  undoubtedly  to 
be  attributed  to  it,)  that  so  main  a  stress  should  be  laid, 
as  to  the  diversifying  of  motion,  seems  strange;  when  we 
may  observe  so  various  motions  of  some  silly  creatures,  as 
of  a  fly  in  our  window,  while  we  cannot  perceive,  andean 
scarce  imagine,  any  change  in  external  objects  about  them : 
yea,  a  swarm  of  flies,  so  variously  frisking  and  plying  to 
and  fro,  some  this  way,  others  that,  with  a  thousand  di- 
versities and  interferings  in  their  motion, and  some  resting ; 
while  things  are  in  the  same  state,  externally,  to  them  all. 
So  that  Avhat  should  cause,  or  cease,  or  so  strangely  vary 
such  motions,  is  from  thence,  or  any  thing  else  he  hath 
said,  left  unimaginable.     As  it  is  much  more,    how,  in 
creatures  of  much  strength,   as  a  bear  or  a  lion,  a  paw 
should  be  moved  sometimes  sogently,  and  sometimes  with 
so  mighty  force,  only  by  mere  mechanism,  without  any 
directive  principle,  that  is  not  altogether  corporeal.     But 
most  of  all,  hoAv-  the  strange  regularity  of  motion  in  some 
creatures,  as  of  the  spider  in  making  its  web,  and  the  like, 
should  be  owing  to  no  other  than  such  causes  as  he  hath 
assigned  of  the  motions  in  general  of  brute  creatures.  And 
"what  though  some  motions  of  our  own  seem  wholl}^  invo- 
limtary,  (as  that  of  our  eyelids,  in  the  case  which  he  sup- 
poses,) doth  it  therefore  follow  they  must  proceed  from  a 
Erinciple"  only  corporeal,  as  if  our  soul  had  no  other  act 
elonging  to  it,  but  that  of  willing  1     Which  he  doth  not 


I  De  Pa.'ssion.  part.  1.  art.  S. 

m  Princip.  Philosopli.  Dioptric,  c.  4. 

n  De  Pass.  art.  13. 


Diisert  de  metliod. 


downright  say  ;  but  that  it  is  its  only,  or  its  chief  act :  and 
if  it  be  its  chief  act  only,  what  hinders  but  that  such  a 
motion  may  proceed  from  an  act  that  is  not  chief?  Or 
that  it  may  have  a  power  that  may,  sometimes,  step  forth 
into  act  (and  in  greater  matters  than  that)  without  any- 
formal  deliberated  command  or  direction  of  our  willl  So 
little  reason  is  there  to  conclude,  that  all  our  motions" 
common  to  us  with  beasts,  or  even  their  motions  them- 
selves, depend  on  nothing  else  than  the  conformation  of 
the  members,  and  the  course  which  the  .spirits,  excited  by 
the  heat  of  the  heart,  do  naturally  follow,  in  the  brain, 
the  nerves,  and  the  muscles,  after  the  same  manner  with 
the  motion  of  an  automaton,  &c. 

But  as  to  the  matter   of  sensation,  his  account  seems 
much  more  defective  and  unintelligible,   that  is,  how  it 
should  be  performed  (as  he  supposes  every  thing  common 
to  us  Avith  beasts  may  be)  without  a  soul.  For,  admit  that 
it  be  (as  who  doubts  but  it  is)  by  the  instruments  which 
he  assigns,  we  are  still  to  seek  what  is  the  sentient,  or  what 
useth  these  instruments,  and  dothsentire  or  exerci.se  sense 
by  them.     That  is,  suppose  it  be  perforthed  in  the  brain,P 
and  that  (as  he  says)  by  the  help  of  the  nerves,  which  from 
thence,  like  small  strings,i  are  .stretched  forth  unto  all  the 
other  members ;  suppose  we  have  the  three  things  to  con- 
sider in  the  nerves,  which  he  recites — their  interior  sub- 
stance, which  extends  itself  like  very  slender  threads  from 
the  brain  to  the  extremities  of  all  the  other  members  into 
which  they  are  laiit;  the  verj'  thin  little  skins  which  en- 
close these,  and  which,  being  continued  with  those  that 
inwrap  the  brain,  do  compose  the  little  pipes  which  contain 
these  threads  ;  and  lastly,  the  animal   spirits  which  are 
conveyed  dovrn  from  the  brain  through  these  pipes — j'et 
which  of  these  is  most  subservient  unto  sense  1     That  he 
undertakes  elsewhere'  to  declare,  riz.  that  we  are  not  to 
think  (which  we  also  suppose)  some  nerves  to  serve  for 
sense,  others  for  motion  only,  as  some  have  thought,  but 
that  the  enclosed  spirits  serve  for  the  motion  of  the  mem- 
bers, and  those  little  threads  (also  enclosed)  for  sense.  Are 
we  yet  any  nearer  our  puqiose?     Do  these  small  threads 
sentire'?     Are  these  the  things  that  ultimately  receive  and 
discern  the  various  impressions  of  objects'?  And  since  they 
are  all  of  one  sort  of  substance,  how  comes  it  to  pass  that 
some  of  them  are  seeing  threads,  others  hearing  threads, 
others  tasting,  &c.  Is  it  from  the  diverse  and  commodious 
figuration  of  the  organs  unto  which  these  descend  from  the 
brain  1  But  though  we  acknowledge  and  admire  the  curi- 
ous and  exquisite  formation  of  those  organs,  and  their  most 
apt  usefulness  (as  organs,  or  instruments)  to  the  purposes 
for  which  they  are  designed,yet  what  do  they  signify,with- 
out  a  proportionably  apt  and  able  agent  to  use  them,  or 
percipient  to  entertain  and  judge  of  the  several  notices, 
which  by  them  are  only  transmitted  from  external  things  1 
That  is,  suppose  we  a  drop  of  ever  so  pure  and  transparent 
liquor,  or  let  there  be  three,  diversely  tinctured  or  coloured, 
and  (lest  the)'  mingle)  kept  asunder  by  their  distinct,  in- 
folding coats  ;  let  these  encompass  one  the  other,  and  toge- 
ther compose  one  little  shining  globe:  are  we  satisfied  that 
now  this  curious,  pretty  ball  can  see  '?    Nay,  suppose  we 
it  ever  so  conveniently  situate ;  suppose  we  the  fore-men- 
tioned strings  fastened  to  it,  and  these,  being  hollow,  well 
replenished  Avith  as  pure  air  or  wind  or  gentle  flame  as  you 
can  imagine ;  yea,  and  all  the  before-described  little  threads 
to  boot ;  can  it  yet   do  the   feat  1    Nay,   suppose  we  all 
things  else  to  concur  that  Ave  can  suppose,  except  a  living 
principle,  (call  that  by  Avhat  name  you  will,)  and  i«  it  not 
still  as  incapable  of  the  act  of  seeing,  as  a  ball  of  clay  or 
a  pebble  stone  1    Or  can  the  substance  of  the  brain  itself 
perform  that  or  any  other  act  of  sense,  (for  it  is  superfluous 
to  .speak  distinctlyof  the  rest,)  any  more  than  the  pulpof 
an  apple  or  a  dish  of  curds'?     So  that,  trace  this  matter 
whither  you  will,  within  the  compass   of  A'our  assigned 
limits,  and  you  are  still  at  the  same  loss:  range  through 
the  Avhole   body,    and  what  can  you  find  hut  flesh  and 
bones,  marroAV  and  Mood,  strings  and  threads,  humour  and 
vapour;  and  Avhich  of  these  is  capable  of  sense  1     These 
are  your  materials  and  such  like;  order  them  as  you  wiL, 
put  them  into  Avhat  method  you  can  devise,  and  exceut 


o  As  art.  16. 

q  De  Passion,  art  11. 

r  Dioptr.  c.  4.  S.  4,  5. 


p  Princip.  Pliilosoph.  Sect.  189. 


23 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  1 


vou  can  make  it  live,  yon  cannot  make  it  so  much  as  feel,  |  to  their  several  functions;  it  seems  a  miich  more  easy 
rrniCii  less  perform  all  other  acts  of  sense  besides,  unto  |  performance,  and   is  more  conceivable,  and  within   the 


which  these  tools  alone  seem  as  unproportionable,  as  a 
plough-share  to  the  most  curious  sculpture,  or  a  pair  of 
tongs  to  the  most  melodious  music. 

But  how  much  more  inconceivable  it  is,  that  the  figura- 
tion and  concurrence  of  the  fore-mentioned  organs  can 
alone  suffice  to  produce  the  several  passions  of  love,  fear, 
ano-er,  &c.  whereof  we  find  so  evident  indications  m  brute 
creatures,  it  i-s  enough  but  to  hint.  And  (but  that  all  per- 
sons do  not  read  the  same  books)  it  were  altogether  un- 
necessary to  have  said  so  much,  after  so  plain  demonstra- 
tion^ already  extant,  that  matter,  howsoever  modified, 
any  of  the  mentioned  ways  is  incapable  of  sense. 

Nor  would  it  seem  necessary  to  attempt  any  thing  in 
this  kind,  in  particular  and  direct  opposition  to  the  very 
peculiar  sentiments  of  this  most  ingenious  author,  (as  he 
will  undoubtedly  be  reckoned  in  all  succeeding  time,) 
who,  when  he  undertakes  to  show  what  sense  is,  and  how 
it  is  performed,  makes  it  the  proper  business  of  the  soul, 
comprehends  it  under  the  name  of  cogitation  ;t  naming 
himself  a  thinking  thing,  adds  by  way  of  question.  What 
is  that?  and  ainswers,  A  thing  doubting,  understanding, 
affirming,  denying,  willing,  nilling,  and  also  imagining, 
and  exercising  sense ;  says"  expressly  it  is  evident  to  all 
that  it  is  the  soul  that  exercises  sense,  not  the  body,"*'  in  as 
direct  words  as  the  so  much  celebrated  poet  of  old.  The 
only  wonder  is,  that  under  this  general  name  of  cogita- 
tion he  denies  it  unto  brutes;  under  which  name,  he  may 
be  thought  less  fitly  to  have  included  it,  than  to  have  af- 
firmed them  incapable  of  any  thing  to  which  that  name 
ought  to  be  applied ;  as  he  doth  not  only  affirm,  but  es- 
teems himself  by  most  firm  reasons  to  have  proved.^ 

And  yet  that  particular  reason  seems  a  great  deal  more 
pious  than  it  is  cogent,  which  he  gives  for  his  choosing 
his  particular  v;ay  of  ditferencing  brutes  from  human 
creatures,  viz.  lest  any  prejudice  should  be  done  to  the 
doctrine  of  the  human  soul's  immortality ;  there  being  no- 
thing, as  he  truly  says,  that  doth  more  easily  turn  ofl' weak 
minds  from  the  path  of  virtue,  than  if  they  should  think 
the  souls  of  brutes  to  be  of  the  same  nature  with  our  own ; 
and  therefore  that  nothing  remains  to  be  hoped  or  feared 
after  this  life,  more  by  us  than  by  flies  or  pismires.  For 
surely  there  were  other  ways  of  providing  against  that 
danger,  besides  that  of  denying  them  so  much  as  sense, 
(other  than  merely  organical,>  as  he  somewhere  alleviates 
ihe  harshness  of  that  position,  but  without  telling  us  what 
useth  these  organs,)  and  the  making  them  nothing  else 
but  well-formed  machines. 

But  yet  if  we  should  admit  the  propriety  of  this  ap- 
pellation, and  acknowledge  (the  thing  itself  intended 
to  be  signified  by  it)  that  all  the  powers  belonging  to 
mere  brutal  nature  are  purely  mechanical,  and  no  more  ; 
to  what  purjTOse  is  it  here  alleged,  or  what  can  it  be 
understood  to  signify  1  What  is  lost  from  our  cause  by 
it'?  And  what  have  atheists  whereof  to  glory  1  For  was 
the  contrivance  of  these  machines  theirs  1  Were  they 
the  authors  of  this  rare  invention,  or  of  any  thing  like  if? 
Or  can  they  show  any  product  of  human  device_^and  wit, 
that  shall  be  capable  of  vying  with  the  strange  powers  of 
those  machines  1  Or  can  they  imagine  what  so  highly 
exceeds  all  human  skill,  to  have  fallen  by  chance,  and 
without  any  contrivance  or  design  at  all.  into  a  frame  ca- 
pable of  such  powers  and  operations  1 

If  they  be  machines,  they  are  (as  that  free-spirited  au- 
thor speaks)  to  be  considered  a^  a  sort  of  machine^  made 
by  the  hand  of  God,  which  is  by  infinite  degrees  better 
ordered,  and  hath  in  it  more  admirable  motions,  than  any 
that  could  ever  have  been  formed  by  the  art  of  man.  Yea, 
and  we  might  add,  so  little  disadvantage  would  accrue  to 
the  present  cause  (whatever  might  to  some  other)  by  this 
concession,  that  rather  (if  it  were  not  a  wrong  to  the  cause, 
which  justly  disdains  we  should  allege  any  thing  false  or 
uncertain  for  its  support)  this  would  add  much,  we  will 
not  say  to  its  victory,  but  to  its  triumph,  that  -"e  did  ac- 
knowledge them  nothing  else  than  mere  mechsaiical  con- 
trivances. For,  since  they  must  certainly  eithei  be  such, 
or  have  each  of  them  a  soul  to  animate,  anden&ble  them 


nearer  reach  of  human  apprehension,  that  they  should  be 
furnished  with  such  a  one,  than  be  made  capable  of  so 
admirable  operations  without  it;  and  the  former  (though 
it  were  not  a  surer)  were  a  more  amazing,  unsearchable, 
and  less  comprehensible  discovery  of  the  most  transcen- 
dent wisdom,  than  the  latter. 

XI.  But  because  whatsoever  comes  tinder  the  name  of 
cogitation,  properly  taken,  is  assigned  to  some  higher  cause 
than  mechanism  ;  and  that  there  are  operations  belonging 
to  man,  which  lay  claim  to  a  reasonable  soul,  as  the  im- 
mediate principle  and  author  of  them;  we  have  yet  this 
further  step  to  advance,  that  is,  to  consider  the  most  ap- 
parent evidence  we  have  of  a  wise,  designing  agent,  in 
the  powers  and  nature  of  this  more  excellent,  and,  among 
things  more  obvious  to  our  notice,,  the  noblest  of  his  pro- 
ductions. 

And  were  it  not  for  the  slothful  neglect  of  the  most  to 
study  themselves,  we  should  not  here  need  to  recount 
unto  men  the  common  and  well-known  abilities  and 
excellences  which  peculiarly  belong  to  their  own  nature. 
They  might  take  notice,  without  being  told,  that  first,  as 
to  their  intellectual  facility,  they  have  somewhat  about 
them,  that  can  think, understand, frame  notions  of  things; 
that  can  rectify  or  supply  the  false  or  defective  represen- 
tations which  are  made  to  them  by  their  external  senses 
and  fancies;  that  can  conceive  of  things  far  above  the 
reach  and  sphere  of  sense,  the  moral  good  or  evil  of  ac- 
tions or  inclinations,  what  there  is  in  them  of  rectitude  or 
pravity  ;  whaceby  they  can  animadvert,  and  cast  their  eye 
inward  upon  themselves;  observe  the  good  or  evil  acts  or 
inclinations,  the  knowledge,  ignorance,  dulness,  vigour, 
tranquillity,  trouble,  and,  generally,  the  perfections  or  im- 
perfections, of  their  own  minds ;  that  can  apprehend  the 
general  natures  of  things,  the  future  existence  of  what, 
yet,  is  not,  with  the  future  appearance  of  that  to  us, 
which,  as  yet,  appears  not. 

Of  which  last  sort  of  power,  the  confident  assertion, 
"  No  man  can  have  a  conception  of  the  future, "^^  needs 
not,  against  our  experience,  make  us  doubt ;  especially 
being  enforced  by  no  better,  than  that  vleasant  reason 
there  subjoined,  for  the  future  is  not  yet ;  that  is  to  say, 
because  it  is  future ;  and  so  (which  is  all  this  reason 
amounts  to)  we  cannot  conceive  it,  because  ice  cannot. 
For  though  our  conceptions  of  former  things  guide  us  in 
forming  notions  of  what  is  future,  yet  sure  our  conception 
of  any  thing  as  future,  is  much  another  sort  of  conception 
from  what  we  have  of  the  same  thing  as  past,  as  appears 
from  its  different  effects;  for  if  an  object  be  apprehended 
good,  we  conceive  of  it  as  past  with  sorrow,  as  future  with 
hope  and  joy ;  if  evil,  with  joy  as  past,  with  fear  and  sor- 
row as  future.  And  (which  above  all  the  rest  discovers 
and  magnifies  the  intellectual  power  of  the  human  soul) 
that  they  can  form  a  conception,  howsoever  imperfect,  ol 
this  absolutely  perfect  Being,  whereof  we  are  discoursing. 
Which  even  they  that  acknowledge  not  its  existence, 
cannot  deny;  except  they  will  profess  themselves  blindly, 
and  at  a  venture,  to  deny  they  know  not  what,  or  what 
they  have  not  so  much  as  thought  of. 

They  may  take  notice  of  iheiv poiver  of  comparing  things, 
of  discerning  and  making  a  judgment  of  their  agreements 
and  disagreements,  their  proportions  and  disproportions 
to  one  another  ;  of  affirming  or  denying  this  or  that,  con- 
cerning such  or  such  things;  and  of  pronouncing,  with 
more  or  less  confidence,  concerning  the  truth  or  falsehood 
of  such  affirmations  or  negations. 

And  moreover,  of  their  fencer  of  arguing,  and  infer- 
ring one  thing  from  another,  so  as  from  one  plain  and 
evident  principle,  to  draw  forth  a  long  chain  of  conse- 
quences, that  may  be  discerned  to  be  linked  therewith. 

They  have  withal  to  consider  the  liberty  and  the  large 
capacity  of  the  human  will,  which,  when  it  is  itself,  rejects 
the  dominion  of  any  other  than  the  supreme  Lord,  and 
refuses  satisfaction  in  any  other  than  the  supreme  and 
most  comprehensive  good. 

And  upon  even  so  hasty  and  transient  a  view  of  a  thing 
furnished  with  such  powers  and  faculties,  we  have  suf- 


B  tn  Dr.  More'3  Immortality  of  the  SouL 
u  Medit.  2. 


t  Princip.  Phil,  part  4.  189. 
w  Dioptt.  c.  i 


X  Resp.  Bextae.  Dissert,  de  Method. 
I  Dissert,  de  Method,  sect.  5. 


y  Resp.  sexfsE. 

a  Hobbes'6  Hu:nan  Nature. 


Chap.  III. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


23 


ficient  occasion  to  bethink  ourselves.  How  came  such  a 
thing  as  this. into  being  1  whence  did  it  spring,  or  to  what 
original  doth  it  owe  itself]  More  particularly  we  have 
here  two  things  to  be  discoursed. — E^irst,  That,  notwith- 
standing so  high  excellences,  the  soul  of  man  doth  yet  aj)- 
pear  to  be  a  caused  being,  that  sometime  had  a  beginning. 
— Secondly,  That,  by  them,  it  is  sufficiently  evident,  that 
it  owes  itself  to  a  wise  and  intelligent  cause. 

As  to  the  former  of  these,  we  need  say  the  less,  because 
that  sort  of  atheists  with  whom  we  have  chiefly  now  to 
do,  deny  not  human  souls  to  have  had  a  beginning,  eis 
supposing  them  to  be  produced  by  the  bodies  they  animate, 
by  the  same  generation,  and  that  such  generation  did 
sometimes  begin ;  that  only  rude  and  wildly  moving  matter 
■was  from  eternity ;  and  that  by  infinite  alterations  and 
commixtures  in  that  eternity,  it  fell  at  last  into  this  orderly 
frame  and  state  wherein  things  now  are,  and  became  pro- 
lific, so  as  to  give  beginning  to  the  several  sorts  of  living 
things  which  do  now  continue  to  propagate  themselves  ; 
the  mad  folly  of  which  random  fancy  we  have  been  so 
largely  contending  against  hitherto.  The  other  sort,  w^ho 
were  for  an  eternal  succession  of  generations,  have  been 
sufficiently  refuted  by  divers  others,  and  partly  by  what 
hath  been  already  said  in  this  discourse ;  and  we  may 
further  meet  with  them  ere  it  be  long.  We  in  the  mean- 
time find  not  any  professing  atheism,  to  make  human  souls, 
as  such,  necessary  and  self-originate  beings. 

Yet  it  is  requisite  to  consider  not  only  what  persons  of 
atheistical  persuasions  have  said,  but  what  also  they  pos- 
sibly may  say.  And  moreover,  some  that  have  been 
remote  from  atheism,  have  been  prone,  upon  the  contem- 
plation of  the  excellences  of  the  human  soul,  to  over- 
magnify,  yea  and  even  no  less  than  deify,  it.  It  is  therefore 
needful  to  say  somewhat  in  this  matter.  For  if  nothing 
of  direct  and  downright  atheism  had  been  designed,  the 
rash  hyperboles,  as  we  will  charitably  call  them,  and  un- 
warrantable rhetorjcations  of  these  latter,  should  they 
obtain  to  be  looked  upon  and  received  as  severe  and  strict 
assertions  of  truth,  were  equally  destructive  of  religion,  as 
the  others'  more  strangely  bold  and  avowed  opposition  to  it. 

Such,  I  mean,  as  have  spoken  of  the  souls  of  men  as 
parts  of  God,h  one  thing  with  him ;  a  particle  of  divine 
breath  ;  an  extract  or  derivation  of  himself ;  that  have  not 
feared  to  apply  to  them  his  most  peculiar  attributes,  or  say 
that  of  them,  which  is  most  appropriate  and  incommuni- 
cably  belonging  to  him  alone.  Nay,  to  give  them  his  very 
name,  and  say  in  plain  words  they  were  God.'^ 

Now  it  would  render  a  temple  alike  insignificant,  to 
suppose  no  worshipper,  as  to  suppose  none  who  should  be 
worshipped.  And  what  should  be  the  worshipper,  w^hen 
our  souls  are  thought  the  same  thing  with  what  should 
be  the  object  of  our  worship  1  But  methinks,  when  we  con- 
sider their  necessitous,  indigent  state,  their  wants  and 
cravings,  their  pressures  and  groans,  their  grievances  and 
complaints,  we  should  find  enough  to  convince  us  they  are 
not  the  self-originate  or  self-sufficient  being ;  and  might 
even  despair  any  thing  should  be  plain  and  easy  to  them, 
with  whom  it  is  a  difficulty  to  distinguish  themselves  from 
God.  Why  are  they  in  a  state  which  they  dislike  1  Where- 
fore are  thej'^  not  full  and  satisfied  1  Why  do  they  wish 
and  complain  1  Is  this  Godlike  1  But  if  any  have  a  doubt 
hanging  in  their  minds  concerning  the  imity  of  souls  with 
one  another,  or  with  the  soul  of  the  world,  let  them  read 
■what  is  already  extant :  and  supposing  them,  thereupon, 
distinct  beings,  there  needs  no  more  to  prove  them  not  to 
be  necessary,  independent,  uncaused  ones,d  than  their  sub- 
jection to  so  frequent  changes ;  their  ignorance,  doubts, 
irresolution,  and  gradual  progress  to  knowledge,  certainty, 
and  stability  in  their  purposes ;  their  very  being  united 
with  these  bodies  in  which  they  have  been  but  a  little 
■while,  as  we  all  know ;  whereby  they  undergo  no  small 
change,  (admitting  them  to  have  been  pre-existent,)  and 

b  Sen.  Ep.  92.  Hor.    Serm.  M.  Anton.  aTTomraafia  eavrov. 

c  The  Pythagoreans,  concerning  whom  it  is  said,  they  were  wont  to  ad- 
monish one  another  to  take  heed,  lest  they  slwiiM  rent  God  in  themneli-es.— 
Mw  ^(aOTTav  rot;  cv  eavToti,  dcov.  Jamblich.  de  vit.  Pylhas.  I'l:tti),  who 
undertakes  to  prove  the  iramortaJity  of  the  soul  by  .«uch  arHiiment:J  as,  it'  liiev 
did  conchide  any  thing,  would  conclude  it  to  be  God  :  thnt  it  is  the  liiuntain", 
the  principle  [Trnyi.  aai  apxn]  of  motion  ;  and  adds,  that  the  principle  is  un- 
beeottcn,  &c.  in  Phredone.  Makes  it  the  cause  of  all  things,  and  the  nder  of 
&U,  Dc  Le?  1.  10.  though  his  words  there  seem  meant  of  the  soul  of  the  world. 


wherein  they  experience  so  many.  Yea,  whether  those 
changes  import  any  immutation  of  their  very  essence  or 
no,  the  repugnancy  being  so  plainly  manifest  of  the  very 
terms,  necessary  and  chaii<icable.  And  inasmuch  as  it  is  so 
evident  that  a  necessary  being  can  receive  no  accession  to 
itself;  that  it  must  always  have,  or  keep  itself,  after  the 
same  manner,  and  in  the  same  state  ;  that  if  it  be  nece.s- 
sarily  such,  or  such,  (as  we  cannot  conceive  it  to  be,  but 
we  must,  in  our  own  thoughts,  affix  to  it  some  determinate 
state  or  other,)  it  must  be  eternally  such,  and  ever  in  that 
particular  unchanged  state. 

Therefore  be  the  perfection  of  our  souLs  as  great  as  our 
most  certain  knowledge  of  them  can  possibly  allow  us  to 
suppose  it,  it  is  not  yet  so  great,  but  that  ■we  must  be  con- 
strained to  confess  them  no  necessary,  self-originate  beings, 
and,  by  consequence,  dependent  ones,  that  owe  themselves 
to  .some  cause. 

XII.  Nor  yet  (that  we  may  pass  over  to  the  other 
strangely  distant  extreme)  is  the  perfection  of  our  souls 
so  lilllc,  as  to  require  less  than  an  intelligent  cause,  en- 
dowed M'ith  the  wisdom  which  we  assert  and  challenge 
unto  the  truly  necessary,  uncaused  Being.  Which,  because 
he  hath  no  other  rival  or  competitor  for  the  glory  of  this 
production,  than  only  the  fortuitous  jumble  of  the  blindly- 
moving  particles  of  matter,  directs  our  inquiiy  to  this 
single  point:  Whose  image  the  thing  produced  bears  1  Or 
which  it  more  resembles  %  stupid,  senseless,  unactlve  matter, 
(or  at  the  best  only  supposed  moving,  though  no  man, 
upon  the  atheists'  terms,  can  imagine  how  it  came  to  be 
so,)  or  the  active,  intelligent  Being,  whom  we  affirm  the 
cause  of  all  things,  and  who  hath  peculiarly  entitled  him- 
self, the  Father  of  spirits. 

That  is,  we  are  to  consider  whether  the  powers  and 
operations  belonging  to  the  reasonable  soul  do  not  plainly 
argue — 1.  That  it  neither  rises  from,  nor  is,  mere  matter; 
whence  it  will  be  consequent,  it  must  have  an  efficient, 
diverse  from  matter — 2.  That  it  owes  itself  to  an  intelli- 
gible efficient. 

As  to  the  former,  ■we  need  not  deal  distinctly  and  seve- 
rally concerning  their  original  and  their  nature.  For  if 
they  are  not  mere  matter,  it  will  be  evident  enough  they  do 
not  arise  from  thence. 

So  that  all  will  be  summed  up  in  this  inquirj'.  Whether 
reason  can  agree  to  matter  considered  alone,  or  b}'  itself] 

But  here  the  case  requires  closer  discourse.  For,  in 
order  to  this  inquiry,  it  is  requisite  the  subject  be  deter- 
mined we  inquire  about.  It  hath  been  commonly  taken 
for  granted,  that  all  substance  is  either  matter  ot  mind  ; 
when  5'et  it  hath  not  been  agreed  what  is  the  distinct  notion 
of  the  one  or  the  other.  And  for  the  stating  their  diCer- 
ence,  there  is  herein  both  an  apparent  difficulty  and  ne- 
cessity. 

A  difficulty  ;  for  the  ancient  difference,  that  the  former 
is  extended,  having  parts  lying  without  each  other,  the 
latter  unextended,  having  no  parts,  is  now  commonlv  ex- 
ploded, and,  as  it  seems,  reasonably  enough ;  both  because 
w^e  scarce  know  hoM-  to  impose  it  upon  ourselves,  to  con- 
ceive of  a  mind  or  spirit  that  is  unextended,  or  that  hath 
no  parts  ;  and  that,  on  the  other  hand,  the  atoms  of  matter, 
strictly  taken,  must  also  be  unextended,  and  be  without 
parts.  And  the  difficulty  of  assigning  the  proper  diflerence 
between  these  two,  is  further  evident,  from  what  we  expe- 
rience how  difficult  it  is  to  form  any  clear  distinct  notion 
of  substance  itself,  so  to  be  divided  into  matter  and  mind, 
stripped  of  all  its  attributes.''  Though,  as  that  celebratcti 
author  also  speaks,  we  can  be  surer  of  nothing,  than  that 
there  is  a  real  somewhat,  that  sustains  those  attributes. 

Yet  also,  who  sees  not  a  necessity  of  assigning  a  differ- 
ence ]  For  how  absurd  is  it,  to  affirm,  deny,  or  inquire, 
of  what  belongs,  or  belongs  not,  to  matter,  or  mind,  if  it 
be  altogether  unagreed,  what  we  mean  by  the  one,  or  the 
other. 

Concerning  which  sonl,  aflenvards,  inquiring  whether  all  oitghl  not  to  account 
it  God,  lie  "answers.  Yes  certainly,  except  anyone  he  come  t«>  extr»>me  mad- 
ness. And  whether  an  Identity  were  not  imagined  of  our  souls,  with  that  ot 
the  world,  or  with  find,  is  too  much  left  in  doubt,  both  as  to  lum  and  some  ot 
his  followers  :  to  say  nothing  of  modem  enthusiasts.  <•  i     o     i     »» 

d  Dr.  Morx 's  Poem.  Anlimonopsuchia.  His  Immortality  ot  tlie  Soul,  Mr. 
Baxter's  Appendix  to  the  Reasons  of  Christian  Religion,  d-c.  .     „  - 

e  As  is  to  be  seen  in  that  accurate  discourse  of  Mr.  Locke.  His  Lssay  ol 
Human  Understanding,  pubUshed  since  this  was  lirst  written. 


24 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  I 


That  the  former,  speaking  of  any  continned  portion  of 
matter,  hath  parts  actually  separable  ;  the  other  being  ad- 
mitted to  have  parts  too,  but  that  cannot  be  actually  sepa- 
rated ;  with  the  power  of  self-contraction,  and  self-dilata- 
tion, ascribed  to  this  latter,  denied  of  the  former,  seem  as 
intelligible  differences,  and  as  little  liable  to  exception,  as 
any  we  can  think  of  Besides  what  we  observe  of  dulness, 
inactivity,  insensibility,  in  one  sort  of  substance;  and  of 
vigour,  activity,,  capacity  of  sensation,  and  spontaneous 
motion,  with  what  we  can  conceive  of  self-vitality,  in  this! 
latter  sort;  i.  e.  that  whereas  matter  is  only  capable  of 
having  life  imparted  to  it,  from  somewhat  that  lives  of 
itself,  created  mind  or  spirit,  though  depending  for  its  being 
on  the  supreme  cause,  hath  life  essentially  included  in  that 
being,  so  that  it  is  inseparable  from  it,  and  it  is  the  same 
tiling  to  it,  to  live,  and  to  be.  But  a  merely  materiate 
being,  if  it  live,  borrows  its  life,  as  a  thing  foreign  to  it,  and 
separable  from  it. 

But  if,  instead  of  such  distinction,  we  should  shortly 
and  at  the  next  have  pronounced,  that  as  mind  is  a  cogi- 
tant  substance,  matter  is  incogitant ;  how  would  this  have 
squared  with  our  present  inquiry  1  What  antagonist  would 
have  agreed  with  us  upon  this  "state  of  the  question"?  i.  e. 
in  efiect,  whether  that  can  i-e,i*^in  or  think,  that  is  incapa- 
ble of  reason  or  thought  1  Such,  indeed,  as  have  studied 
more  to  hide  a  bad  meaning,  than  express  a  good,  have 
confounded  the  terms  matter  or  bodv,  and  substance.  But 
take  we  matter  as  contradistinguished  to  mind  and  spirit, 
as  aljove  described  :  and  it  is  concerning  this  that  we  in- 
tend this  inquirjr. 

And  here  we  shall  therefore  wave  the  consideration  of 
their  conceits,  concerning  the  manner  of  the  first  origina- 
tion of  men,  who  thought  their  whole  being  was  only  a 
production  of  the  earth.  Whereof  the  philosophical  ac- 
count deserves  as  much  laughter,  instead  of  confutation, 
as  any  the  most  fabulously  poetical :  that  is,  how  they 
were  formed  (as  also  the  other  animals)  in  certain  little 
ba^s,  or  wombs  of  the  earth,  out  of  which  when  they 
grew  ripe,  they  broke  forth, f  &c. 

And  only  consider  what  is  said  of  the  constitution  and 
nature  of  the  human  soul  itself;  which  is  said  to  be  com- 
posed of  very  well  polished,  the  smoothest  and  the  roundest 
atoms  ;?  and  which  are  of  the  neatest  fashion,  and  every 
way,  you  must  suppose,  the  best  conditioned  the  whole 
coiintry  could  aflbrd  ;  of  a  more  excellent  make,  as  there 
is  added,  than  those  of  the  fire  itself.  And  these  are  the 
things  you  must  know,  which  think,  study,  contemplate, 
frame  .syllogisms,  make  theorems,  lay  plots,  contrive  busi- 
ness, act  the  philosopher,  the  logician,  the  mathematician, 
statesman,  and  every  thing  else  ;  only  you  may  except  the 
priest,  for  of  him  there  was  no  need. 

This  therefore  is  our  present  theme,  whether  such  things 
as  these  be  capable  of  such,  or  any  acts  of  reason,  yea  or 
no  1  And  if  such  a  subject  may  admit  of  serious  discourse ; 
in  this  way  it  maybe  convenient  to  proceed,  fis.  either 
any  such  small  particle,  or  atom  (for  our  business  is  not 
now  with  Des  Cartes,  but  Epicurus)  alone,  is  rational,  or 
a  good  convenient  number  of  them  assembled,  and  most 
happily  met  together.  It  is  much  to  be  feared  the  former 
way  will  not  do.  For  we  have  nothing  to  consider  in  any 
of  these  atoms,  in  its  solitary  condition,  besides  its  magni- 
tude, its  figure,  and  its  weight,  and  you  may  add  also  its 
motion,  if  you  could  devise  how  it  should  come  by  it. 

And  now,  because  it  is  not  to  be  thought  that  all  atoms 
are  rational,  (for  then  the  stump  of  a  tree  or  a  bundle  of 
straw  might  serve  to  make  a  soul  of,  for  aught  we  know, 
as  good  as  the  best,)  it  is  to  be  considered  by  which  of 
those  properties  an  atom  shall  be  entitled  to  the  privilege 
of  being  rational,  and  the  rational  atoms  be  distinguished 
from  the  rest.  Is  it  their  peculiar  magnitude  or  size  that 
so  far  ennobles  them  1  Epicurus  would  here  have  us  be- 
lieve, that  the  least  are  the  fittest  for  this  turn.  Now  if  you 
consider  how  little  we  must  suppose  them  generally  to"  be, 
according  to  his  account  of  them ;  (that  is,  that  looking 

f  Gasscnd.  Epicur.  Syntag. 
.  g  As  may  be  seen  in  tlie  same  Syntag.  and  in  Epicunis's  Epist.  to  Herodot. 
m  Laert.    'E5  arojiajv  avri^v  c-vyKticBJi  AnoraToii',  Kat  rpoyyvXararoif, 

.u^y^^'^J^!^  it  falls  out  somewhat  crossly,  that  the  least  (and  consequently 
the  lightest)  should  be  thought  htter  to  be  the  matter  of  the  rational  soul,  be- 
cause they  are  aptest  for  motion,  when  yet  110  other  cause  is  assigned  of  their 


upon  any  of  those  little  motes  a  stream  whereof  you  may 
perceive  when  the  sun  shines  in  at  a  window,  and  he 
doubts  not  but  many,  myriads  of  even  ordinary  atoms,  go 
to  the  composition  of  any  one  of  these  scarcely  discernible 
motes  ;)  how  sportful  a  contemplation  were  it,  to  suppose 
one  of  those  furnished  with  all  the  powers  of  a  reasonable 
soul !  Though  it  is  likely  they  would  not  laugh  at  the 
jest,  that  think  thousands  of  souls  might  be  conveniently 
placed  upon  the  point  of  a  needle.  And  yet,  which  makes 
the  matter  more  admirable,  that  very  few,  except  they  are 
very  carefully  picked  and  chosen,  can  be  found  among 
those  many  myriads,  but  will  be  too  big  to  be  capable  of 
rationality.  Here  sure  the  fate  is  very  hard,  of  those  that 
come  nearest  the  size,  but  only,  by  a  very  little  too  much 
corpulency,  happen  to  be  excluded,  as  unworthy  to  be 
counted  among  the  rational  atoms.  But  sure  if  all  sober 
reason  he  not  utterly  lost  and  squandered  away  among 
these  little  entities,  it  must  needs  be  judged  altogether  in- 
comprehensible, why,  if  upon  the  account  of  mere  little- 
ness, any  atom  should  be  capable  of  reason,  all  should  not 
be  so:  and  then  we  could  not  but  have  a  very  rational 
world.  At  least,  the  difference  in  this  point  being  so  very 
small  among  them,  and  they  being  all  so  very  little,  me- 
thinks  they  should  all  be  capable  of  some  reason,  and  have 
only  less  or  more  of  it,  according  as  they  are  bigger  or  less. 
But  there  is  little  doubt,  that  single  property  of  less  mag- 
nitude, win  not  be  stood  upon  as  the  characteristieal  diffei- 
ence  of  rational  and  irrational  atoms  ;  and  because  their 
more  or  less  gravity  is  reckoned  necessarily  and  so  imme- 
diately to  depend  on  that,  (for  those  atoms  cannot  be 
thought  porous,  but  very  closely  compacted  each  one  with- 
in itself,)  this,  it  is  likely,  will  as  little  be  depended  on.h 
And  so  their  peculiar  figure  must  be  the  more  trusted  to, 
as  the  differencing  thing.  And  because  there  is  in  this 
resjiect  so  great  a  variety  among  this  little  sort  of  people, 
or  nation,  as  this  author  somewhere  calls  them,  (whereof 
he  gives  so  punctual  an  account,*  as  if  he  had  been  the  ge- 
neralissimo of  all  their  armies,  and  were  wont  to  view  them 
at  their  rendezvous,  to  form  them  into  regiments  and  squad- 
rons, and  appoint  them  to  the  distinct  services  he  found 
them  aptest  for,)  no  doubt  it  was  a  difficulty  to  determine 
which  sort  of  figure  was  to  be  pitched  on  to  make  up  the 
rational  regiment.  But  since  his  power  was  absolute,  and 
there  was  none  to  gainsay  or  contradict,  the  roimd  figure 
was  judged  best,  and  most  deserving  this  honour.  Other- 
wise, a  reason  might  have  been  asked  (and  it  might  have 
been  a  greater  difficulty  to  have  given  a  good  one)  why  some 
other  figure  might  not  have  done  as  well ;  unless  respect 
were  had  to  fellow-atoras,  and  that  it  was  thought,  they  of 
this  figure  could  better  associate  for  the  present  purpose  ; 
and  that  we  shall  consider  of  by  and  by.  We  now  pro- 
ceed on  the  supposition  that  possibly  a  single  atom,  by  the 
advantage  of  this  figure,  might  be  judged  capable  of  this 
high  achievement.  And  in  that  case,  it  would  not  be  im- 
pertinent to  inquire  whether,  if  an  atom  were  perfectly 
round,  and  .so  very  rational,  but  by  an  unexpected  misad- 
venture, it  comes  to  have  one  little  corner  somewhere 
clapped  on,  it  be  hereby  quite  spoiled  of  its  rationality? 
And  again,  whether  one  that  comes  somewhat  near  that 
figure,  only  it  halh  some  little  protuberances  upon  it,  might 
not  by  a  little  filing,  or  the  friendly  rubs  of  other  atoms, 
become  rational  1  And  yet,  now  we  think  on  it,  of  this  im- 
provement he  leaves  no  hopes,  because  he  tells  us,  though 
they  have  parts,  yet  they  are  so  solidly  compacted  that  they 
are  by  no  force  capable  of  dissolution.  And  so  whatever 
their  fate  is  in  this  particular,  they  must  abide  it  without 
expectation  of  change.  And  yet,  though  we  cannot  really 
alter  it  for  the  better  with  any  of  them,  yet  we  may  think 
as  favourably  of  the  matter  as  we  please;  and  for  any 
thing  that  yet  appears,  whatever  peculiar  claim  the  round 
ones  lay  to  rationality,  we  may  judge  as  well ;  and  shall 
not  easily  be  disproved  of  any  of  the  rest. 

Upon  the  whole,  no  one  of  these  properties  alone   is 
likely  to  make  a  rational  atom :  what  they  will  all  do, 

motion  besides  their  CTBAity,  which  cannot  but  be  more,  as  they  are  bigger  :  (for 
no  doubt  if  you  sliould  try  them  in  a  pair  of  scales,  the  bigjrest  would  be  found 
to  out  weigh  ;)  whence  also  it  should  seem  to  follow,  that  the  heaviest  hai-ing 
most  iji  them  of  that  wliich  is  the  cause  of  motion,  should  be  the  most  move- 
able, and  so  by  consequence  the  biggest. 

i  That  they  are  rouiid,  oblong,  oval,  plain,  hooked,  rough,  smooth,  buocb 
backed,  &c. 


Chap.  III. 


THE  LIVING  TETvIPLE. 


25 


meeting  together,  may  yet  seem  a  doubt.  That  is,  sup- 
posing we  could  hit  upon  one  single  atom  that  is  at  once 
of  a  very  little  size,  and  consequently  very  light  and  nim- 
ble, and  most  perfectly  smooth,  and  unexceptionaWy  refund, 
(and  possibly  there  may  be  found  a  good  many  such,)  will 
not  this  do  the  business  1  May  we  not  now  hope  to  have 
a  rational  sort  of  people  among  them,  that  is,  those  of  this 
peculiar  family  or  tribe  ■?  And  yet  still  the  matter  will  be 
found  10  go  very  hard ;  for  if  we  cannot  imagine  or  devise 
how  any  one  of  these  properties  should  contribute  any 
thing  (as  upon  our  utmost  disquisition  we  certainly  can- 
not) towards  the  power  of  reasoning,  it  is  left  us  altogether 
unimaginable  how  all  these  properties  together  should 
make  a  rational  atom !  There  is  only  one  relief  remaining, 
that  is,  what  if  we  add  to  these  other  properties  some 
peculiarly  brisk  sort  of  actual  motion  :  (for  to  be  barely 
moveable  will  not  serve,  inasmuch  as  all  are  so  :)  but  Avill 
not  actual  motion,  added  to  its  being  irreprehensibly  little, 
light,  and  round,  especially  if  it  be  a  very  freakish  one,  and 
made  up  of  many  odd,  unexpected  windings,  and  turns, 
effect  the  business  1  Possibly  it  might  do  something  to 
actual  reasoning,  supposing  the  power  were  there  before: 
for  who  can  tell  but  the  little  thing  was  fallen  asleep,  and 
by  this  means  its  power  might  be  awakened  into  some 
exercise  1  But  that  it  should  give  the  power  itself^  is 
abov^e  all  comprehension ;  and  there  is  nothing  else  to  give 
it.  These  that  have  been  mentioned,  being  all  the  prime 
qualities  that  are  assigned  to  atoms  singly  considered^  all 
others  that  can  be  supposed,  belonging  to  concrete  bodies, 
t.hat  are  composed  of  many  of  them  meeting  together. 
And  therefore  hither  in  the  next  place  our  inquiry  must  be 
directed,  whether  any  number  of  atoms,  definite  or  in- 
definite, being  in  themselves  severally  irrational,  can  be- 
come rational  by  association,  or  compose  and  make  up  a 
rational  soul  1 

Hitherto  it  must  be  acknowledged  we  have  not  fought 
with  any  adversary ;  not  having  met  with  any  that  have 
asserted  the  rationality  of  single,  corporeal  atoms;  yet 
because  we  know  not  what  time  may  produce,  and  whither 
the  distress  and  exigency  of  a  desperate  cause  may  drive 
the  maintainers  of  it,  it  was  not  therefore  fit  to  say  nothing 
to  that  supposable  or  possible  assertion,  I  mean  possible 
to  be  asserted,  howsoever  impossible  it  is  to  be  true. 
Nor  yet  could  it  well  admit  of  any  thing  to  be  said  to  it, 
but  in  that  ludicrous  and  sportful  way.  If  we  will  sup- 
pose any  to  be  so  foolish,  they  are  to  be  dealt  with  accord- 
ing to  their  folly. 

But  now  as  to  this  other  conceit,  that  atoms,  provided 
the}''  be  of  the  right  stamp  or  kind,  may,  a  competent  num- 
ber of  them  assembled  together,  compose  a  reasonable  soul, 
is  an  express  article  of  the  Epicurean  creed.  And  there- 
fore, here,  we  are  to  deal  more  cautiously ;  not  that  this 
is  any  whit  a  wiser  fancy  than  the  other,  but  that  the  truth 
in  this  matter  is  surer  to  meet  with  opposition  in  the  minds 
of  some  persons,  already  formed  unto  that  wild  apprehen- 
sion, and  tinctured  with  it. 

Wherefore  such  must  be  desired  to  consider  in  the  first 
place,  if  they  will  be  true  disciples  of  Epicurus  through- 
out, what  he  affirms  of  all  atoms  universally,  that  they 
muse  be  simple,  uncompounded  bodies,  (or,  if  you  will, 
corpuscles,)  not  capable  of  division  or  section,  by  no  force 
dissoluble,  and  therefore  immutable,  or  in  themselves  void 
of  any  mutation. 

Hereupon  let  it  be  next  considered,  if  there  were  in 
them,  those  that  are  of  the  right  size,  shape,  and  weight, 
severally,  some  certain  sparks  or  seeds  of  reason,  (that  we 
may  make  the  supposition  as  advantageous  as  we  can,)  or 
dispositions  thereto,  yet  how  shall  it  be  possible  to  them 
to  communicate,  or  have  that  communion  with  one  another, 
as  tog;etker  to  constitute  an  actually  and  completely  rational 
or  thinking  thing  1  If  everj^  one  could  bring  somewhat  to 
a  common  stock  that  might  be  serviceable  to  that  purpose ; 
how  shall  each  one's  proportion  or  share  be  imparted  1 
They  can  none  of  them  emit  any  thing,  there  can  possibly 
be  no  such  thing  as  an  cffluvivm  from  any  of  them,  inas- 
much a.s  they  are  incapable  of  diminution ;  and  are  them- 
selves each  of  them  as  little  as  the  least  imaginable  cffiuvi- 
um  that  we  would  suppose  to  proceed  from  this  or  that  par- 
ticular atom.  They  can  at  the  most  but  touch  one  another ; 
penetrate,  or  get  into  one  another  they  cannot ;  insomuch 


as  if  any  one  have  a  treasure  in  it,  which  is  in  readiness 
for  the  making  up  an  intellective  faculty  or  power  among 
them  that  should  be  common  to  them  all,  yet  each  one 
remains  so  locked  up  witliin  itself,  and  is  so  reserved  ami 
incommunicative,  that  no  other,  much  less  the  whole  body 
of  them,  can  be  any  jot  the  wiser.  So  that  this  is  like  to 
be  a  very  dull  assembly. 

But  then,  if  there  be  nothing  of  reason  to  be  commu- 
nicated, we  are  yet  at  a  greater  loss;  for  if  it  be  said, 
having  nothing  else  to  communicate,  they  communicate 
themselves,  what  is  that  self  1  Is  it  a  rational  self?  Or 
is  every  single  atom  that  enters  this  composition  reason  7 
Or  is  it  a  principle  of  reason  "?  Is  it  a  seed  1  Or  is  it  a 
part  1  Is  it  a  thought  1  What  shall  we  suppose '?  Or 
what  is  there  in  the  properties  a.ssigned  to  this  sort  of  atoms 
that  can  bespeak  it  any  of  these  1  And  if  none  of  these 
can  be  supposed,  Avhat  doth  their  association  signily  towards 
ratiocination "?  They  are  little,  what  doth  that  contribute? 
Therefore  there  may  need  the  more  of  them  to  make  a  good 
large  soul ;  but  why  must  a  Litlle  thing,  devoid  of  reason, 
contribute  more  towards  it,  than  another  somewhat  bigger  ? 
They  are  liglit,  doth  that  mend  the  matter  l  They  are  the 
sooner  blown  away,  rhey  can  the  less  cohere,  or  keep 
together ;  they  are  the  more  easily  capable  of  dissipation, 
the  less  of  keeping  their  places  in  solemn  counsel.  They 
are  round,  and  exactly  smooth.  But  why  do  they  the  more 
convenientl)^  associate  upon  that  account  for  this  purpose  1 
They  cannot  therefore  come  so  close  together  as  they  might 
have  done,  had  they  been  of  various  figures.  They  cannot, 
indeed,  give  or  receive  so  rude  touches.  This  signififis 
somewhat  towards  the  keeping  of  state,  but  what  doth  it 
to  the  exercise  of  reason  1  Their  being  so  perfectly  and 
smoothly  round,  makes  them  the  more  incapable  of  keep- 
ing a  steady  station,  they  are  the  more  in  danger  of  rolling 
away  from  one  another;  they  can  upon  this  account  lay 
no  hold  of  each  other.  Their  counsels  and  resolves  are 
likely  to  be  the  more  lubricous,  and  liable  to  an  uncertain 
volubility.  It  is  not  to  be  imagined  what  a  collection  of 
individuals,  only  thus  qualified,  can  do  when  Xhey  are 
come  together,  an  assembly  thus  ■constituted.  Are  we 
hence  to  expect  oracles,  philosophical  determinations,  max- 
ims of  state  '?  And  since  they  are  supposed  to  be  so  much 
alike,  how  are  the  mathematical  atoms  to  be  distinguished 
from  the  morall  those  from  the  politicall  the  contem- 
plative from  the  active  ?  Or  when  the  assembly  thinks  fit 
to  entertain  itself  with  matters  of  this  or  that  kind,  what 
must  be  its  different  composure  or  posture  1  Into  what 
mould  or  figure  must  it  cast  itself  for  one  puipose,  and 
into  what,  for  another"?  It  is  hard  to  imagine  that  these 
little  globular  bodies,  chat  we  may  well  suppose  to  be  as 
like  as  one  egg  can  be  to  another,  should  b}'  the  mere 
alteration  of  their  situation,  in  respect  of  one  another,  (and 
no  alteration  besides  can  be  .so  much  as  imagined  among 
them,)  make  so  great  a  change  in  the  complexion  of  lliis 
assembly ;  so  that  now,  it  shall  be  disposed  to  seriousness, 
and  by  some  transposition  of  the  spherical  particles,  to 
mirth  ;  now  to  business,  and  by  and  by  to  pleasure.  And 
seeing  all  human  souls  are  supposed  made  of  the  same 
sort  of  material,  how  are  the  atoms  modelled  in  one  man, 
and  how  in  another  1  What  atoms  are  there  to  dispose  to 
this  sect  more,  and  what  to  another  1  Or  if  a  good  reason 
can  be  assigned  for  their  difference,  what  shall  be  given 
for  their  agreement "?  Whence  is  it  that  there  are  so  manj^, 
so  unquestionable,  common  notions  ever}' where  received? 
Why  are  not  all  things  transposed  in  some  minds,  when 
such  a  posture  of  the  atoms  as  might  infer  it,  is  as  sujv 
posable  as  any  other  1  Yea,  and  since  men  are  found  not 
always  to  be  of  one  mind  with  themselves,  it  is  strange 
and  incomprehensible,  that  such  a  situation  of  these  atoms, 
that  constitute  his  ,soul,  should  dispose  him  to  be  of  one 
opinion,  and  another  of  another  How  are  they  to  be 
ranged  when  for  the  afiirmative  1  how  for  the  negative  "? 
And  yet  a  great  deal  more  strange,  that  since  their  situa- 
tion is  so  soon  changed,  and  so  continually  changing,  (the 
veiy  substance  of  the  soul  being  supposed  nothing  else 
than  a  thing  very  like,  but  a  little  finer  than  a  busy  and 
continually  moving  flame  of  fire,)  any  man  should  ever 
continue  to  be  of  the  same  opinion  with  himself,  one  quar- 
ter of  an  hour  together ;  that  all  notions  are  not  confounded 
and  jumbled  ;  that  the  same  thing  is  not  thought  and  un- 


no 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part.  I 


thought,  resolved  and  unresolved,  a  thousand  times  in  a 
day.  That  is,  if  any  thing  could  be  thought  or  resolved 
at  all,  or,  if  this  were  a  subject  capable  of  framing  or  re- 
ceiving any  sort  of  notion. 

But  still  that  is  the  greatest  difficulty,  how  there  can  be 
such  a  thing  as  thinking,  or  forming  of  notions.  The  case 
is  plain  of  such  notions  as  have  no  relation  to  matter,  or 
dependence  upon  external  sense.  For  what  doth  contri- 
bute to  my  contemplation  of  my  own  mind,  and  its  acts 
and  powers;  to  my  animadversion,  or  knowing  that  I 
think,  or  will,  this  or  that  1 

But  besides,  and  more  generally,  what  proportion  is 
there  between  a  thought  and  the"  motion  of  an  atom "? 
Will  we  appeal  to  our  faculties,  to  our  reason  itself?  And 
whither  else  will  we  ]  Is  there  any  cognation  or  kindred 
between  the  ideas  we  have  of  these  things,  the  casual 
agitation  of  a  small  particle  of  matter,  (be  it  as  little  or  as 
round  as  we  please  to  imagine,)  and  an  act  of  intellection 
or  judgment  1  And  what  il'  there  be  divers  of  them  toge- 
ther 1  What  can  they  do  more  towards  the  composing  an 
intelligent  thing,  than  many  ciphers  to  the  arithmetical 
composition  of  a  number  ■?  It  would  be  as  rational  to 
suppose  a  heap  of  dust,  by  long  lying  together,  might  at 
last  become  rational.  Yes,  these  are  things  that  have, 
some  way  or  other,  the  power  of  motion  ;  and  what  can 
they  effect  by  that  I  They  can  frisk  about,  and  ply  to  and 
fro,  and  interfere  among  themselves,  and  hit,  and  justle, 
and  tumble  over  one  another,  and  that  will  contribute  a 
great  deal;  about  as  much,  we  may  suppose,  as  the  shak- 
ing of  such  dust  well  in  a  bag,  by  which  means  it  might 
possibly  become  finer  and  smaller  something;  and  by 
continuing  that  action,  at  length  rational !  No;  but  these 
atoms,  of  which  the  soul  is  made,  have  a  greater  advan- 
tage by  their  being  disposed  into  a  so  well-contrived  and 
filly  organized  receptacle  as  the  body  is.  It  is  indeed  true, 
and  admirable,  that  the  body  is,  as  hath  been  before  ob- 
served, so  fitly  framed  for  the  purposes  whereto  the  whole 
of  it,  and  its  several  parts,  are  designed.  But  how  imfitly 
is  that  commodious  structure  of  it  so  much  as  mentioned, 
by  such  as  will  not  allow  themselves  to  o^vn  and  adore 
the  wisdom  and  power  of  its  great  Architect. 

And  what  if  the  composure  of  the  body  be  so  apt  and 
useful ;  so  excellent  in  its  own  kind ;  is  it  so  in  every 
kind,  or  to  all  imagmable  purposes  "?  Or  what  purpose  can 
we  possibly  imagine  more  remote  or  foreign  to  the  com- 
position of  the  body,  than  that  the  power  of  ratiocination 
should  be  derived  thence  1  It  might  as  well  be  said  it  was 
so  made,  to  whirl  about  the  sun,  or  to  govern  the  motions 
of  the  moon  and  stars,  as  to  confer  the  power  of  reason,  or 
enable  the  soul  to  think,  to  understand,  to  deliberate,  to 
will,  &c.  Yea,  its  organs,  some-of  them,  are  much  more 
proportionable  to  those  actions,  than  any  of  them  unto 
these.  Which,  though  a  well-habited  body,  while  the  soul 
remains  in  this  imprisoned  state,  do  less  hinder,  yet  how 
doth  it  help  1  And  that  it  might  perform  these  acts  without 
bodily  organs,  is  much  more  apprehensible  than  how  they 
can  properlj^be  said  to  be  performed  by  them.  And  that, 
though  they  are  done  in  the  body,  they  would  be  done 
much  better  out  of  it. 

But  shall  it  be  granted  that  these  soul-constituting  atoms, 
till  they  be  (or  otherwise  than  as  they  are)  united  with  a 
duly  organized  body,  are  utterly  destitute  of  any  reasoning 
or  intelligent  power  1  Or  are  they,  by  themselves,  apart 
from  this  grosser  body,  irrational  1  If  this  be  not  granted, 
the  thing  we  intend  must  be  argued  out.  Either,  then,  they 
are,  or  they  are  not.  If  the  latter  be  said,  then  they  have 
it  of  themselves,  without  dependence  on  the  organized 
body  ;  and  so  we  are  fairly  agreed  to  quit  that  pretence, 
without  more  ado,  of  their  partaking  reason  from  thence. 
And  are  only  left  to  weigh  over  again  what  hath  been 
already  said  to  evince  the  contrary,  that  is,  how  manifestly 
absurd  it  is,  to  imagine  that  particles  of  matter,  by  their 
peculiar  size,  or  weight,  or  shape,  or  motion,  or  all  of  these 
together:  and  that,  whether  single  or  associated,  should 
he  capable  of  reasoning.  If  the  former  be  the  thing  which 
is  resolved  to  be  stuck  to,  that  is,  that  they  are  of  them- 
selves irrational,  but  they  become  reasonable  b}^  their  being 
united  in  such  a  prepared  and  organized  body,  this  requires 
to  be  a  little  further  considered.  And  to  this  purpose  it  is 
necessary  to  obviate  a  pitiful  shift  that  it  is  possible  some 


may  think  fit  to  use,  for  the  avoiding  the  force  of  this 
dilemma;  and  may  rely  upon  as  a  ground,  why  they  may 
judge  this  choice  the  more  secure;  that  is,  that  they  say 
they  are  rational  by  dependence  on  the  body  they  animate ; 
because  they  are  only  f^ound  so  imited  with  one  another 
there;  that  there  they  have  the  first  coalition;  there  they 
are  severed  from  such  as  serve  not  this  turn  ;  there  they 
are  pent  in,  and  held  together  as  long  as  its  due  temperament 
la.sts  ;  which,  when  it  fails,  they  are  dissipated,  and  so  lose 
their  great  advantage  for  the  acts  of  reason,  which  they  had 
in  such  a  body.  What  pleasure  soever  this  may  yield,  it 
wdl  soon  appear  it  does  them  little  service.  For  it  only 
implies,  that  they  have  their  rationality  of  themselves,  so 
be  it  that  they  were  together ;  and  not  immediately  from 
the  body  ;  or  any  otherwise,  than  that  they  are  somewhat 
beholden  to  it,  for  a  fair  occasion  of  being  together ;  as  il 
it  were,  else,  an  unlawful  assembly ;  or  that  they  knew 
not,  otherwise,  how  to  meet  and  hold  together.  They  will 
not  say  that  the  body  gives  them  being,  for  they  are  eternal, 
and  self-subsisting,  as  they  will  have  it.  Yea,  and  of 
themselves  (though  the  case  be  otherwise  with  the  Car- 
tesian particles)  undiminishable,  as  to  their  size,  and,  as  to 
their  figure  and  weight,  unalterable  ;  so  that  they  have 
neither  their  littleness,  their  roundness,  nor  their  lightness, 
from  the  body,  but  only  their  so  happy  meeting.  Admit 
this,  and  only  suppose  them  to  be  met  out  of  the  body. 
And  why  may  not  this  be  thought  supposable  1  If  they  be 
not  rational  till  they  be  met,  they  cannot  have  wit  enough 
to  scruple  meeting,  at  least  someM'here  else,  than  in  the 
body.  And  who  knows  but  such  a  change  may  happen  1 
As  great  as  this,  are  by  these  persons  supposed  to  have 
happened,  before  the  world  could  have  come  to  this  pass 
it  is  now  at ;  who  can  tell  but  such  a  number  of  the  same 
sort  of  atoms  (it  being  natural  for  things  so  much  of  a  com- 
plexion and  temper  to  associate  and  find  out  one  another) 
might  ignorantly,  and  thinking  no  harm,  come  together  1 
And  having  done  so,  why  might  they  not  keep  together "? 
Do  they  need  to  be  pent  in  1  How  are  they  pent  in,  whilsL 
in  the  body  ■?  If  they  be  disposed,  they  have  ways  enough 
to  get  out.  And  if  they  must  needs  be  inclined  to  scatter 
when  the  crasis  of  the  body  fails,  surely  a  way  might  be 
found  to  hem  them  in,  if  that  be  all,  at  the  time  of  expira- 
tion, more  tightly  and  closely,  than  they  could  be  in  the 
body.  And  what  reason  can  be  devised,  why,  being  be- 
come rational,  by  their  having  been  assembled  in  the  body, 
they  may  not  agree  to  hold  together,  and  do  so  in  spite  of 
fate,  or  maugre  all  ordinary  accidents,  when  they  find  it 
convenient  to  leave  it  1  And  then  upon  these  no-way  im- 
possible suppositions,  (according  to  their  principles,  so  far 
as  can  be  understood,  with  whom  we  have  to  do,)  will 
they  now  be  rational  out  of  the  body  1  Being  still  endowed 
(as  they  cannot  but  be)  with  the  same  high  privileges  of 
being  little,  round,  and  light,  and  being  still  also  together; 
and  somewhat  more,  it  may  be,  at  liberty,  to  roll  and 
tumble,  and  mingle  with  one  another,  than  in  the  body1 
If  it  be  now  affirmed,  they  will,  in  this  case,  be  rational, 
at  least  as  long  as  they  hold  together,  then  we  are  but 
where  we  were.  And  this  shift  hath  but  diverted  us  a 
little ;  but  so,  as  it  Avas  easy  to  bring  the  matter,  again, 
about,  to  the  same  point  we  were  at  before.  Wherefore 
the  shelter  of  the  body  being  thus  quite  again  forsaken, 
this  poor  expulsed  crew  of  dislodging  atoms  are  exposed 
to  fight  in  the  open  air,  for  their  rationality,  against  all  that 
was  said  before. 

But  if  this  refuge  and  sanctuary  of  the  body  be  not 
merely  pretended  to,  but  really  and  plainly  trusted  in,  and 
stuck  to,  then  are  we  sincerely  and  honestly  to  consider 
what  a  body  so  variously  organized  can  do,  to  make  such 
a  party  of  atoms  (that  of  themselves  are  not  so,  singly,  nor 
together)  become  rational.  And  surely,  if  the  cause  were 
not  saved  before,  it  is  now  deplorate,  and  lost  without 
remedy.  For  what  do  they  find  here  that  can  thus,  be- 
yond all  expectation,  improve  them  to  so  high  an  excel- 
lency"? Is  it  flesh,  or  blood,  or  bones,  that  puts  this  stamp 
upon  theml  Think,  what  is  the  substance  of  the  nobler 
parts,  the  liver,  or  heart,  or  brain,  that  they  should  turn 
these,  before,  irrational  atoms,  when  they  fall  into  them, 
into  rational,  any  more  than  if  they  were  well  soaked  in  a 
quagmire,  or  did  insinuate  themselves  into  a  piece  ol 
soft  dough  1  But  here  they  meet  with  a  benign  and  kindly 


Chap.  III. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


27 


heat  and  warmth,  which  comfortably  fosters  and  cherishes 
them,  till  at  length  it  hath  hatched  them  into  rational. 
But  methinks  they  should  be  warm  enough  of  themselves, 
since  they  are  supposed  so  much  to  resemble  fire.  And, 
however,  wherein  do  we  find  a  flame  of  fire  more  rational, 
than  a  piece  of  ice  1  Yea,  but  here  they  find  a  due  temper 
of  moisture  as  well  as  heat.  And  that  surely  doth  not 
signify  much;  for  if  the  common  maxim  be  true,  that  the 
dry  soul  is  the  wisest,  they  might  have  been  much  wiser, 
if  they  had  kept  themselves  out  of  the  body.  And  since 
it  is  necessary  the  soul  should  consist  of  that  peculiar  sort 
of  atoms  before  described;  and  the  organical  body  (which 
mu.st  be  said  for  distinction  sake,  the  soul  being  all  this 
while  supposed  a  body  also)  consists  of  atoms  too,  that  are 
of  a -much  coarser  alloy,  methinks  a  mixture  should  not 
be  necessary,  but  a  hinderance,  and  great  debasement,  ra- 
ther, to  this  rational  composition.  Besides,  that  it  cannot 
be  understood,  if  it  were  necessary  these  atoms  should 
receive  any  tincture  from  the  body,  in  order  to  their  being 
rational,  what  they  can  receive,  or  how  they  can  receive 
any  thing.  They  have  not  pores  that  can  admit  an  adven- 
titious moisture,  though  it  were  of  the  divinest  nectar,  and 
the  body  could  never  so  plentifully  furnish  them  with  it. 
Wherein  then  lies  the  great  advantage  these  atoms  have  by 
being  in  the  body,  to  their  commencing  rational!  If  there 
be  such  advantage,  why  can  it  not  be  understood  1  Why 
is  it  not  assigned '?  Why  should  we  further  spend  our 
guesses  what  may  possibly  be  saidl  But  yet,  may  not 
much  be  attributed  to  the  convenient  and  well-fenced 
cavity  of  the  brain's  receptacle,  or  the  more  seci-et  cham- 
bers within  that,  where  the  studious  atoms  may  be  very 
private  and  free  from  disturbance  ]  Yet  sure  it  is  hard  to 
say,  why  they  that  are  wont  to  do  it  here,  might  not  as  well 
philosophize  in  some  well-chosen  cavern,  or  hole  of  a  rock ; 
nor  were  it  impossible  to  provide  them  t/iere,  wdth  as  soft 
a  bed.  And  yet  would  it  not  be  some  relief  to  speak  of 
the  fine  slender  pipes,  winding  to  and  fro,  wherein  they 
may  be  conveyed  so  conveniently  from  place  to  place,  that 
if  they  do  not  fall  into  a  reasoning  humour  in  one  place, 
they  may  in  another  1  Why,  what  can  this  do  1  It  seems 
somewhat  like  Balaam's  project,  to  get  into  a  vein  of  in- 
cantation, by  changing  stations.  And  transplace  them  as 
you  will,  it  requires  more  magic  than  ever  he  was  master 
of,  to  make  those  innocent,  harmless  things,  masters  of 
reason. 

For  do  but  consider,  what  if  you  had  a  large  phial  capa- 
ble of  as  great  a  quantity  as  you  can  think  needful,  of  very 
fine  particles,  and  replenished  with  them,  closely  stopped, 
and  well  luted ;  suppose  these  as  pure  and  fit  for  the  pur- 
pose as  you  can  imagine,  only  not  yet  rational ;  will  their 
faring  to  and  fro,  through  very  close  and  stanch  tubes,  from 
one  such  receptacle  to  another,  make  them  at  last  beccane 
sol  It  seems  then,  do  what  you  will  with  them,  toss  and 
tumble  them  hither  and  thither,  rack  them  from  vessel  to 
vessel,  try  what  methods  you  can  devise  of  sublimation  or 
improvement,  every  thing  looks  like  a  vain  and  hopeless 
essay.  For  indeed,  do  what  you  please  or  can  think  of, 
they  are  such  immutable  entities,  you  can  never  make 
them  less,  or  finer,  than  they  originally  were :  and  rational 
they  were  not,  before  their  meeting  in  the  body  ;  wherefore 
it  were  a  strange  wonder,  if  that  should  so  far  alter  the  case 
with  them,  that  they  should  become  rational  by  it. 

XIII.  And  now  I  must,  upon  the  whole,  profess  not  to 
be  well  pleased  with  the  strain  of  this  discourse  ;  not  that 
I  think  it  unsuitable  to  its  subject,  (for  I  see  not  how  it  is 
fitly  to  be  dealt  with  in  a  more  serious  way,)  but  that  I 
dislike  the  subject.  And  were  it  not  that  it  is  too  obvious, 
how  prone  the  minds  of  some  are  to  run  themselves  into 
any  the  grossest  absurdities  rather  than  admit  the  plain 
and  easy  sentiments  of  religion  ;  it  were  miserable  tritlnig 
to  talk  at  this  rate,  and  a  loss  of  time  not  to  be  endured. 
But  when  an  unaccountable  aversion  to  the  aclniowledg- 
ment  and  adoration  of  the  ever-blessed  Deity,  hurries  away 
men,  affrighted  and  oflended  at  the  lustre  of  his  so  mani- 
fest appearances,  to  take  a  bad,  but  the  only  shelter  the 
case  can  admit,  under  the  wings  of  any  the  most  silly, 
foolish  figment ;  though  the  ill  temper  and  dangerous  state 
of  the  persons  is  to  be  thought  on  with  much  pity,  yet  the 
things  which  they  pretend  being  in  themselves  ri^diculous, 
if  we  will  entertain  them  into  our  thoughts  at  all,  cannot . 


fitly  be  entertamed  but  with  derision.  Nor  doth  it  more 
unbecome  a  seriotis  person  to  laugh  at  what  is  ridiculous, 
than  gravely  to  weigh  and  ponder  what  is  weighty  and 
considerable;  provided  he  do  not  seek  occasion  of  that 
former  sort,  on  purpose  to  gratify  a  vain  humour ;  but  only 
allow  himself  to  discourse  suitably  to  them,  when  they 
occur.  And  their  dotage  who  would  fain  serve  themselves 
of  so  wildly  extravagant  and  impossible  suppositions,  for 
the  fostering  their  horrid  misbelief,  that  they  have  no  God 
to  worship,  would  certainly  justify  as  sharp"ironies,  as  the 
prophet  Elijah  bestows  upon  them  who  worshipped  Baal, 
instead  of  the  true  God. 

XIV.  Nor  is  any  thing  here  said  intended  as  a  reflection 
on  such  as,  being  unfurnished  with  a  notion  of  created, 
intelligent  spirits,  that  might  distinguish  their  substance 
from  the  mo.st  subtile  matter,  have  therefore  thought  that 
their  mind  or  thinking  power  might  have  sonae  such  sub- 
slratum,  unto  which  it  is  superadded,  or  impressed  thereon 
hy  a  divine  hand;  in  the  meantime  not  doubting  their 
immortality,  much  less  the  existence  of  a  Deity,  the 
Author  and  former  of  them,  and  all  things.  For  they  are 
no  way  guilty  of  that  blasphemous  nonsense,  to  make 
them  consist  of  necessary,  self-subsistent  matter,  every 
minute  particle  whereof  is  judged  eternal  and  immutable, 
and  in  themselves,  for  aught  we  can  find  asserted,  destitute 
of  reason ;  and  which  yet  acquire  it  by  no  one  knows  what 
coalition,  without  the  help  of  a  wise  efficient,  that  shall 
direct  and  order  it  to  so  imimaginable  an  improvement. 
These  persons  do  only  think  more  refined  matter  capable 
of  that  impression  and  stamp  ;  or  of  having  such  a  powef 
put  into  it,  by  the  Creator's  all-disposing  hand.  Wherein, 
to  do  them  right,  though  they  should  impose  somewhat 
hardly  upon  themselves,  if  they  will  make  this  estimate  of 
the  natural  capacity  of  matter;  or  if  they  think  the  acts 
and  ptiwer  of  reason  in  man,  altogether  unnatural  to  him; 
yet  they  do,  in  effect,  the  more  befriend  the  cause  we  are 
pleading  for  ;  (as  much  as  it  can  be  befriended  by  a  mis- 
apprehension ;  which  yet  is  a  thing  of  that  untoward 
genius,  and  doth  so  ill  consort  with  truth,  that  it  is  never 
admitted  as  a  friend,  in  any  one  respect,  but  it  repays  it 
with  a  mischievous  revenge,  in  some  other;  as  misht  many 
ways  be  shown  in  this  instance,  if  it  were  within  the  com- 
pass of  our  present  design  ;)  it  being  evident,  that  if  any 
portion  of  matter  shall  indeed  be  certainly  found  the  actual 
subject  of  such  powers,  and  to  have  such  operations  be- 
longing to  it,  there  is  the  plainer  and  more  undeniable 
necessity  and  demonstratian  of  his  power  and  wisdom, 
v.'ho  can  make  an)'  thing  of  any  thing  ;  of  stones  raise  up 
children  to  Abraham  I  and  who  shall  then  have  done  that 
which  is  so  altogether  impossible,  except  him  to  whom 
all  things  are  possible  1  There  is  the  more  manifest  need 
of  his  hand  to  heighten  dull  matter,  to  a  qualifiedness  for 
performances  so  much  above  its  nature;  to  make  the 
loose  and  independent  parts  of  so  fluid  matter  cohere  and 
hold  together ;  that,  if  it  were  once  made  capable  of 
knowledge,  and  the  actnal  subject  of  it,  whatsoever 
notions  were  impressed  thereon,  might  not  be,  in  a  mo- 
ment, confovmded  and  lost:  as  indeed  they  could  not  b\U 
be,  if  the  particles  of  matter  were  the  immediate  seat  of 
reason ;  and  so  steady  a  hand  did  not  hold  them,  in  a 
settled  composure,  that  they  be  not  disordered,  and  mea 
have,  thence,  the  necessity  of  beginning  afresh,  to  kTiour 
any  thing,  every  hour  of  the  day.  Though  yet  it  seems  a 
great  deal  more  reasonable  to  suppose  the  souls  of  men  to 
be  of  a  substance  in  itself  more  consistent,  and  more 
agreeable  to  our  experience  ;  who  find  a  continual  ebbing 
and  flowing  of  s]nrits,  without  being  sensible  of  any  so 
notable  and  sudden  changes  in  our  knowledge,  as  we 
could  not  but,  thereupon,  observe  in  ourselves ;  if  they, 
or  any  as  fluid  finer  matter,  were  the  immediate  subjects 
of  it.  It  is  therefore  however  sufficiently  evident,  and  out 
of  question,  that  the  human  soul  (be  its  own  substance 
what  it  will)  must  have  an  efficient  diverse  from  matter; 
which  it  was  our  present  intendment  to  evince.  And  so 
our  way  is  clear  to  proceed  to, 

XV.  The  second  inquiry,  whether  it  be  not  also  mani- 
fest, from  the  powers  and  operations  which  belong  to  it  as 
it  is  reasonable,  that  it  must  have  had  an  intelligent  ef- 
ficient ?  That  is,  since  we  find,  and  are  assured,  that  there 
is  a  sort  of  being  in  the  world  (yea  somewhat  of  ourselves, 


28 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  I, 


and  that  hath  best  right,  of  any  thing  else  about  us,  to  be 
called  ourselves)  that  can  think,  understand,  deliberate, 
argue,  &c.  and  which  we  can  most  certainly  assure  our- 
selves (whether  it  were  pre-existent  in  any  former  state,  or 
no)  is  not  an  independent  orimcaused  being,  and  hath  there- 
fore been  the  efi'ect  of  some  cause  ;  whether  it  be  not  ap- 
parently the  eflect  of  a  wise  caused 

And  this,  upon  supposition  of  what  hath  been  before 
proved,  seems  not  liable  to  any  the  least  rational  doubt. 
For  it  is  already  apparent,  that  it  is  not  itself  matter ;  and 
if  it  were,  it  is  however  the  more  apparent,  that  its  cause 
is  not  matter;  inasmuch,  as  if  it  be  itself  matter,  its 
powers  and  operations  are  so  much  above  the  natural 
capacity  of  matter,  as  that  it  must  have  had  a  cause,  so 
much  more  noble  and  of  a  more  perfect  nature  than  that, 
as  to  be  able  to  raise  and  improve  it,  beyond  the  natural 
capacity  of  matter  :  which  it  was  impossible  for  that,  itself, 
to  do.  Whence  it  is  plain,  it  must. have  a  cause  diverse 
from  matter. 

Wherefore  this  its  immaterial  cause  must  either  be  wise 
and  intelligent,  or  not  so.  But  is  it  possible  any  man 
should  ever  be  guill}^  of  a  greater  absurdity  than  to  ac- 
knowledge some  certain  immaterial  agent,  destitute  of 
wisdom,  the  only  cause  and  fountain  of  all  that  wisdom, 
that  is,  or  hath  ever  been,  in  the  whole  race  of  mankind. 
That  is  as  nmch  as  to  say,  that  all  the  wisdom  of  mankind 
hath  been  caiised  without  a  cause.  For  it  is  the  same 
thing,  after  we  have  acknowledged  any  thing  to  be  caused, 
to  say  it  was  caused  by  no  cause,  as  to  say  it  was  caused 
by  such  a  cause  as  hath  nothing  of  that  in  it,  whereof  we 
find  somewhat  to  be  in  the  etfect.  Nor  can  it  avail  any 
thing,  to  speak  of  the  disproportion  or  supeiior  excellency 
in  some  etlects  to  their  second,  or  to  their  only  partial 
causes.  As  that  there  are  sometimes  learned  children  of 
unlearned  parents.  For  who  did  ever  in  that  case  say  the 
parents  were  the  productive  causes  of  that  learning  1  or 
of  them,  as  they  were  learned'!  Sure  that  learning  comes 
from  some  other  cause.  But  shall  it  then  be  said,  the 
souls  of  men  have  received  their  being  from  some  such 
immaterial  agent  destitute  of  wisdom;  and  afterward,  their 
wisdom  and  intellectual  ability  came  some  other  way;  by 
their  own  observation,  or  by  institution  and  precept,  from 
others  1  Whence  then  came  their  capacity  of  observing,  or 
of  receiving  such  instruction  1  Can  any  thing  naturally  des- 
titiite  even  of  seminal  reason,  (as  we  may  call  it,)  or  of 
any  aptitude  or  capacity  tending  thereto,  ever  be  able  to 
make  observations,  or  receive  instructions,  whereby  at 
length  it  may  become  rational  1  And  is  not  that  capacity 
of  the  soul  of  man  a  real  something  1  Or  is  there  no  difler- 
ence  between  being  capable  of  reason  and  incapable'? 
What,  then,  did  this  real  something  proceed  from  nothing  1 
Or  was  the  soul  itself  caused,  and  this  its  capacity  un- 
caused '?  Or  was  its  cause,  onl}^,  capable  of  intellectual 
perfection,  but  not  actually  furnished  therewith'?  But  if  it 
were  only  capable,  surely  its  advantages  for  the  actual 
attainment  thereof  have  been  much  greater  than  ours. 
Whence  it  were  strange  if  that  capacity  should  never  have 
come  into  act.  And  more  strange,  that  we  should  know, 
or  have  any  ground  to  pretend,  that  it  hath  not.  But  that 
there  was  an  actual  exercise  of  wisdom  in  the  production 
of  the  reasonable  soul  is  most  evident.  For  is  it  a  neces- 
sary being '?  That  we  have  proved  it  is  not.  It  is  therefore 
a  contingent,  and  its  being  depended  on  a  free  cause,  into 
■whose  pleasure,  only,  it  was  resolvable,  that  it  should  be 
or  not  be  ;  and  which  therefore  had  a  dominion  over  its 
own  acts.  If  this  bespeak  not  an  intelligent  agent,  what 
doth'? 

And  thoirgh  this  might  also  be  said  concerning  every 
thing  else  which  is  not  necessarily,  and  so  might  yield  a 
more  general  argument  to  evince  a  free  designing  cause ; 
yet  it  concludes  Avith  greater  evidence  concerning  the  rea- 
sonable soul,  whose  powers  and  operations  it  is  so  mani- 
festly impossible  should  have  proceeded  from  matter.  And 
therefore  even  that  vain  and  refuted  pretence  itself,  that 
other  things  might,  by  the  necessary  laws  of  its  motion, 
become  what  they  are,  can  have  less  place  here.  Whence 
it  is  more  apparent  that  the  reasonable  soul  must  have  had 
a  free  and  intelligent  cause,  that  used  liberty  and  counsel, 
in  determining  that  it  should  be,  and  especially  that  it 
should  be  such  a  sort  of  thing  as  we  find  it  is.     For  when 


we  see  how  aptly  its  powers  and  faculties  serve  for  their 
proper  and  peculiar  operations,  who  that  is  not  beside 
himself  can  think  that  such  a  thing  was  made  by  one  that 
knew  not  what  he  was  doing  1  or  that  such  powers  were 
not  given  on  purpose  for  such  operations'?  And  what  is 
the  capacity,  but  a  power  that  should  sometime  be  reduced 
into  act,  and  arrive  to  the  exercise  of  reason  itself  1 

Now  was  it  possible  any  thing  should  give  that  power 
that  had  it  not  any  way '?  That  is,  in  the  same  kind,  or  in 
some  more  excellent  and  noble  kind  1  For  we  contend 
not  that  this  Agent  whereof  we  speak  is  in  the  strict  and  pro- 
per sense  rational,  taking  that  term  to  import  an  ability  or 
faculty  of  inferring  what  is  less  known  from  what  is  more. 
For  we  suppose  all  things  equally  known  to  him,  (which, 
so  far  as  is  requisite  to  our  present  design,  that  is,  the  repre- 
senting him  the  proper  object  of  religion,  or  of  that  honour 
which  the  dedication  of  a  temple  to  him  imports,  we  may 
in  due  time  come  more  expressly  to  assert,)  and  that  the 
Imowledge  which  is  with  us  the  end  of  reasoning,  is  in  him 
in  its  highest  perfection,  without  being  at  all  beholden  to 
that  7iicans ;  that  all  the  connexion  of  things  with  one  an- 
other lie  open  to  one  comprehensive  view,  and  are  known 
to  be  connected,  but  not  because  they  are  so.  We  say,  is 
it  conceivable  that  man's  knowing  power  should  proceed 
from  a  cause  that  hath  it  not,  in  the  same,  or  this  more 
perfect  kind  ■?  And  may  use  those  words  to  this  purpose, 
not  for  their  aiUhority,  (which  we  expect  not  should  be 
here  significant,)  but  the  convincing  evidence  they  carry 
with  them,  "He  that  teacheth  man  knowledge,  shall  not 
he  know  '? "  That  we  may  drive  this  matter  to  an  issue,  it 
is  evident  the  soul  of  man  is  not  a  necessary,  self-originate 
thing  ;  and  had  therefore  some  cause.  We  find  it  to  have 
knowledge,  or  the  power  of  knowing,  belonging  to  it. 
Therefore  we  say.  So  had  its  cause.  We  rely  not  here 
upon  the  credit  of  vulgar  maxims,  (whereof  divers  might 
be  mentioned,)  but  the  reason  of  them,  or  of  the  thing 
itself  we  allege.  And  do  now  speak  of  the  whole,  entire 
cause  of  this  being,  the  human  soul,  or  of  whatsoever  is 
casual  of  it ;  or  of' any  perfection  naturally  appertaining  to 
it.  It  is  of  an  intelligent  nature.  Did  this  intelligent  na- 
ture proceed  from  an  unintelligent,  as  the  whole  and  only 
cause  of  it  1  That  were  to  speak  against  our  own  eyes, 
and  most  natural,  common  sentiments  ;  and  were  the  same 
thing  as  to  say  that  something  came  of  nothing.  For  it  is 
all  one  to  say  so,  and  to  say  that  any  thing  communicated 
what  it  had  not  to  communicate.  Or  (which  is  alike  madly 
absurd)  to  say  that  the  same  thing  was  such,  and  not  such, 
intelligent,  and  not  intelligent,  able  to  communicate  an 
intelligent  nature,  (for  sure  what  it  doth  it  is  able  to  do,) 
and  not  able,  (for  it  is  not  able  to  communicate  what  it 
hath  not,)  at  the  same  time. 

It  is  hardly  here  worth  the  while  to  spend  time  in  coun- 
termining that  contemptible  refuge,  (which  is  as  incapable 
of  oflending  us,  as  of  being  defended,)  that  human  souls 
may  perhaps  only  have  proceeded  in  the  ordinary  course 
of  generation  from  one  another.  For  that  none  have  ever 
said  any  thing  to  that  purpose  deserving  a  confutation,  ex- 
cept that  some  sober  and  pious  persons,  for  the  avoiding 
of  some  other  ditficulties,  have  thought  it  more  safe  to  as- 
sert the  traduction  of  human  souls,  who  yet  were  far  enough 
from  imagining  that  they  could  be  total,  or  first  causes  to 
one  another:  and  doubted  not,  but  they  had  the  constant 
necessary  assistance  of  that  same  Being  we  are  pleading 
for,  acting  in  his  own  sphere,  as  the  first  cause  in  all  such, 
as  well  as  any  other,  productions.  Wherein  they  nothing 
oppose  the  main  design  of  this  discourse  ;  and  therefore  it 
is  not  in  our  way,  to  off"er  at  any  opposition  unto  them. 

But  if  any  have  a  mind  to  indulge  themselves  the  liberty 
of  so  much  dotage,  as  to  say  the  souls  of  men  were  first 
and  only  causes  to  one  another;  either  they  must  suppose 
them  to  be  material  beings ;  and  then  we  refer  them  to 
what  hath  been  already  said,  showing  that  their  powers 
and  operations  cannot  belong  to  matter,  nor  arise  from  it; 
or  immaterial,  and  then  they  cannot  produce  one  another 
in  the  way  of  generation.  For  of  what  pre-existent  sub- 
stance are  they  made  1  Theirs  who  beget  them  1  Of 
that  they  can  part  with  nothing ;  separability,  at  least,  of 
parls  being  a  most  confessed  property  of  matter.  Or  some 
other  1  Where  will  they  find  that  other  spiritual  substance, 
that  belonged  not  inseparably  to  some  individual  being 


Chap.  III. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


29 


before  1  And  besides,  if  it  were  pre-existent,  as  it  must 
be  if  a  soul  be  generated  out  of  it,  then  tliey  were  not  the 
first  and  only  causes  of  this  production.  And  in  another 
\Fay  than  that  of  generation,  how  will  any  form  the  notion 
of  making  a  soul  1  Let  experience  and  the  making  of 
trial  convince  the  speculators.  By  what  power,  or  by 
what  art,  will  they  make  a  reasonable  soul  spring  up  out 
of  nothing  1 

It  might  be  hoped  that  thus,  without  disputing  the  pos- 
sibility of  an  eternal,  successive  production  of  souls,  this 
shift  may  appear  vain.  But  if  any  will  persist,  and  say, 
that  how,  or  in  what  way  soever  they  are  pro'^'uced,  it  is 
strange  if  they  need  any  nobler  cause  than  them.selves; 
for  may  not  any  living  thing  well  enough  be  thought  ca- 
pable of  producing  another  of  the  same  kind,  of  no  more 
than  equal  perfection  with  itself  1  To  this  we  say,  besides 
thai  no  one  living  thing  is  the  only  cause  of  another  such, 
yet  if  that  were  admitted  possible,  what  will  it  avail  1  For 
iiath  every  soul  that  hath  ever  existed,  or  been  in  being, 
been  produced,  in  this  way,  by  another  1  This  it  were 
ridiculous  to  say,  for  if  every  one  were  so  produced,  there 
was  then  so7ae  one,  before  every  one ;  inasmuch  as  that 
which  produces,  must  .surely  have  been  before  that  which 
is  produced  by  it.  But  how  can  every  one  have  one  before 
it  1  A  manifest  contradiction  in  the  very  terms !  For 
then  there  will  be  one  without  the  compass  of  every  one. 
And  how  is  it  then  said  to  be  every  one  T  There  is  then 
it  seems  one  besides,  or  more  than  all.  And  so  all  is  not 
all.  And  if  this  be  thought  a  sophism,  let  the  matter  be 
soberly  considered  thus  :  The  soul  of  man  is  either  a  thing 
of  that  nature  universally  (and  consequently  every  indi- 
vidual soul)  as  that  it  doth  exist  of  itself,  necessarily  and 
independently,  or  not.  If  it  be,  then  we  have,  however,  a 
wise  intelligent  being  necessarily  existing,  the  thing  we 
have  been  proving  all  this  while.  Yet  this  concession  Ave 
will  not  accept,  for  though  it  is  most  certain  there  is  such 
a  being,  we  have  also  proved  the  human  soul  is  not  it. 
Whence  it  is  evidently  a  dependent  being,  in  its  own  na- 
ture, that  could  never  have  been  of  itself,  and  consequently 
not  at  all,  had  it  not  been  put  into  being  by  somewhat  else. 
And  being  so  in  its  own  nature,  it  must  be  thus  with  every 
one  that  partakes  of  this  nature.  And  consequently  it 
must  be  somewhat  of  another  nature  that  did  put  the  souls 
of  men  into  being.  Otherwise,  the  whole  stock  and  line- 
age of  human  souls  is  said  to  have  been  dependent  on  a 
productive  cause,  and  yet  had  nothing  whereon  to  depend  : 
and  so  is  both  caused  by  another,  and  not  caused.  And 
therefore  since  it  is  hereby  evident  it  was  somewhat  else, 
and  of  another  nature,  than  a  human  soul,  by  which  all 
human  souls  were  produced  into  being :  we  again  say, 
that  distinct  being  either  was  a  dependent,  caused  being, 
or  not.  If  not,  it  being  proved  that  the  soul  of  man  can- 
not but  have  had  an  intelligent  or  wuse  cause,  we  have 
no^v  what  we  seek — an  independent,  necessary,  intelligent 
being,  if  it  do  depend,  or  any  will  be  so  idle  to  say  so  ; 
that,  however,  will  infallibly  and  very  speedily  lead  us  to 
the  same  mark.  For  though  some  have  been  pleased  to 
dream  of  an  infinite  succession  of  individuals  of  this  or  that 
kind,  I  suppose  we  have  no  dream  as  yet,  ready  formed, 
to  come  binder  confutation,  of  infinite  kinds  or  orders  of 
beings,  gradually  superior,  one  above  another;  the  inferior 
still  depending  on  the  superior,  and  all  upon  nothing.  And 
therefore,  I  conceive,  we  may  fairly  take  leave  of  this  ar- 
gument from  the  human  soul,  as  having  gained  from  it 
sufficient  evidence  of  the  existence  of  a  necessary  being, 
that  is  intelligent,  and  designedly  active,  or  guided  by 
wisdom  and  counsel,  in  what  it  doth. 

We  migh.t  also,  if  it  were  needful,  further  argue  the  same 
thing  from  a  power  or  ability  manifestly  superior  to,  and 
that  exceeds  the  utmost  perfection  of,  human  nature,  viz. 
that  of  prophecy,  or  the  prediction  of  future  contingen- 
cies ;  yea,  and  from  another  that  exceeds  the  whole  sphere 
of  all  created  nature,  and  which  crosses  and  countermands 
the  known  and  stated  laws  thereof,  viz.  that  of  working 
miracles;  both  of  them  exercised  with  manifest  design  ; 
as  might  evidently  be  made  appear,  by  manifold  instances, 
to  as  many  as  can  believe  any  thing  to  be  true,  more  than 
what  they  have  seen  with  their  own  eyes ;  and  that  do 
not  take  present  sense,  yea,  and  their  owm  only,  to  be  the 
alone  measure  of  all  reality.     But  it  is  not  necessary  we 


insist  upon  every  thing  that  may  be  .said,  so  that  enough 
be  said  to  serve  our  present  purpose. 

XVI.  And  that  our  purpose  may  yet  be  more  fully 
served,  and  such  a  being  evidenced  to  exist  as  we  may 
with  satisfaction  esteem  to  merit  a  temple  with  us,  and  the 
religion  of  it,  it  is  necessary  that  we  add  somewhat  con- 
cerning, 

9.  The  divine  goodness;  for  unto  that  eternal  Being, 
whose  existence  we  have  hitherto  asserted,  goodness  also 
cannot  but  appertain  ;  together  with  those  his  other  attri- 
butes we  have  spoken  of 

It  is  not  needful  here  to  be  curious  about  the  usual 
.scholastical  notions  of  goodness,  or  what  it  imports,  as  it 
is  wont  to  be  attributed  to  being  in  the  general,  what,  as 
it  belongs  in  a  peculiar  sense  to  intellectual  beings,  or 
what  more  special  import  it  may  have,  in  reference  to  this. 
That  which  we  at  present  chiefly  intend  by  it,  is  a  propen- 
sion  to  do  good  with  delight ;  or  most  freely,  without  oi  her 
inducement  than  the  agreeablencss  of  it  to  his  nature  who 
doth  it;  and  a  certain  delectation  and  complacency,  which, 
hence,  is  taken  in  so  doing.  The  name  of  goodness  (though 
thus  it  more  peculiarly  signifies  the  particular  virtue  of 
liberality)  is  of  a  significancy  large  enough,  even  in  the 
moral  acceptation,  to  comprehend  all  other  perfections  or 
virtues,  that  belong  to,  or  may  any  way  commend,  the 
will  of  a  free  agent.  These  therefore  we  exclude  not ;  and 
particularly  whatsoever  is  wont  to  be  signified,  as  attri- 
butable unto  God,  by  the  names  of  holiness,  as  a  steady 
inclination  unto  what  is  intellectually  pure  and  comely, 
with  an  aversion  to  the  contrary;  justice,  as  that  signifies 
an  inclination  to  deal  equally,  which  is  included  in  the 
former,  yet  as  more  expressly  denoting  what  is  more  proper 
to  a  governor  over  others,  viz.  a  resolution  not  to  let  the 
transgressions  of  laws,  made  for  the  preservation  of  com- 
mon order,  pa.ss  without  due  animadversion  and  punish- 
ment ;  tnith,  whose  signification  also  may  be  wholly  con- 
tained under  those  former  more  general  terms,  but'  more 
directly  contains  sincerity,  unaptness  to  deceive,  and  con- 
stancy to  one's  word:  for  these  may  properly  be  styled 
good  things  in  a  moral  sense  ;  as  many  other  things  might, 
in  another  notion  of  goodness,  which  it  belongs  not  to  our 
present  design  to  make  mention  of  But  these  are  men- 
tioned as  more  directly  tending  to  represent  to  us  an  amia- 
ble object  of  religion  ;  and  are  referred  hither,  as  they 
fitly  enough  may,  out  of  an  unwillingness  to  multiply,  with- 
out necessity,  particular  heads  or  subjects  of  discourse. 

In  the  meantime,  as  was  said,  what  we  principally  in- 
tend, is.  That  the  Being  who.se  existence  we  have  been 
endeavouring  to  evince,  is  good,  as  that  imports  a  ready 
inclination  of  will  to  communicate  unto  others  what  may 
be  good  to  them  ;  creating,  first,  its  own  object,  and  then 
issuing  forth  to  it,  in  acts  of  free  beneficence,  suitable  to 
the  nature  of  every  thing  created  by  it.  Which,  though 
it  be  the  primary  or  first  thing  carried  in  the  notion  of 
this  goodness,  vet  because  that  inclination  is  not  otherwise 
good  than  as  it  consists  with  holiness,  justice,  and  truth, 
these  therefore  may  be  esteemed,  secondarily  at  least,  to 
belong  to  it,  as  inseparable  qualifications  thereof 

Wherefore  it  is  not  a  merelynatural  and  necessan.'  ema- 
nation we  here  intend,  that  prevents  any  act  or  exerci.se  of 
counsel  or  design;  which  would  no  way  consist  with  the 
liberty  of  the  divine  will,  and  would  make  the  Deity  as 
well  a  necessary  Agent,  as  a  necessary  Being;  yea.  and 
would  therefore  make  all  the  creatures  merely  natural 
and  necessary  emanations,  and  so  destroy  the  distinction 
of  necessary  and  contingent  beings  :  and,  by  consequence, 
bid  fair  to  the  making  all  things  God.  It  would  infer  not 
only  the  eternity  of  the  world,  but  would  seem  to  infer 
either  the  absolute  infinity  of  it,  or  the  perfection  of  it,  and 
of  every  creature  in  it,  to  that  degree,  as  that  nothing  could 
be  more  perfect  in  its  own  kind,  than  it  is  ;  or  would  infer 
the  finiteness  of  the  divine  Being.  For  it  would  make 
what  he  hoih  done  the  adequate  measure  of  what  he  con 
do,  and  would  make  all  his  administrations  necessary,  yea_ 
and  all  the  actions  of  men,  and  consequently  take  awav 
all  law  and  government  out  of  the  world,  and  all  measures 
of  right  and  wron?,  and  make  all  punitive  justice,  barbar- 
ous cruelty:  and  consequently,  give  us  a  notion  of  good- 
ness, at  length,  plaini)'  inconsistent  with  itself 

All  this  is  provided  against,  by  our  having  first  asserted 


30 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  1. 


the  wisdom  of  that  Being,  whereunto  we  also  attribute 
goodness ;  which  guides  all  the  issues  of  it,  according  to 
those  measures  or  rules  which  the  essential  rectitude  of 
the  divine  will  gives,  or  rather  is,  unto  it :  whereby  also  a 
foundation  is  laid  of  answering  such  cavils  against  the 
divine  goodness,  as  they  are  apt  to  raise  to  themselves, 
who  are  wont  to  magnify  this  attribute  to  the  suppression 
of  others ;  which  is,  indeed,  in  the  end,  to  magnify  it  to 
nothing.  And  such  goodness  needs  no  other  demonstra- 
tion, than  the  visible  instances  and  effects  we  have  of  it 
in  the  creation  and  conservation  of  this  world ;  and  parti- 
cularly, in  his  large,  munificent  bounty  and  kindness  to- 
wards man,  whereof  his  designing  him  for  his  temple  and 
residence,  will  be  a  full  and  manifest  proof. 

And  of  all  this,  his  own  self-sutHcient  fulness  leaves  it 
impossible  to  us  to  imagine  another  reason,  than  the  de- 
light he  takes  in  dispensing  his  own  free  and  large  com- 
munications. Besides,  that  when  we  see  some  semblances 
and  imitations  of  this  goodness  in  the  natures  of  some  men, 
which  we  are  sure  are  not  nothing,  they  must  needs  pro- 
ceed from  something,  and  have  some  fountain  and  original, 
which  can  be  no  other  than  the  common  Cause  and  Au- 
thor of  all  things.  In  whom,  therefore,  this  goodness  doth 
firstly  and  most  perfectly  reside. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Generally  all  supposable  perfection  asserted  of  tliis  Being  ;  wliero,  First,  A  be- 
ing al)Solutely  perfect  is  endeavoured  tobe  evinced  fruni  Ihc  (alicaily  proved) 
necessary  being  ;  which  is  shown  to  import,  in  the  gcniral  llir  utmost  ful- 
ness of  being.  Also  divers  things  in  particular  that  tend  Ui  o\iu(:e  fliut  gene- 
ral. As  that  it  is  at  the  remotest  distance  from  no  being.  Most  purely  act  ual. 
Most  abstracted  being.  The  productive  and  conserving  cause  of  all  things 
else.  Undiminishable.  Incapable  of  addition.  Stcondly.  Hence  is  more 
expressly  deduced,  the  infiniteness  of  this  being.  An  inquiry  whether  it  be 
possil)le  the  creature  can  be  actually  infinite?  Difficulties  concerning:  the 
absolute  fulness  and  infiniteness  of  God  considered.  2.  The  onliness  of  tliis 
beins.    The  Trinity  not  thereby  excluded. 

I.  SoMK  account  has  been  thus  far  given  of  that  Being, 
whereunto  we  have  been  designing  to  assert  the  honour  of 
a  temple.  Each  of  the  particulars  having  been  severally 
insisted  on,  that  concur  to  make  up  that  notion  of  this 
being,  which  was  at  first  laid  down.  And  more  largely, 
what  hath  been  more  opposed,  by  persons  of  an  atheistical 
or  irreligious  temper.  But  because,  in  that  fore-mentioned 
account  of  God,  there  was  added  to  the  particulars  there 
enumerated,  (out  of  a  just  consciousness  of  human  inabili- 
ty to  comprehend  every  thing  that  may  possibly  belong  to 
him,)  this  general  supplement,  "  That  all  other  supposa- 
ble  excellences  whatsoever,  do  in  the  highest  perfection 
appertain  also  originally  unto  this  Being,"  it  is  requisite 
that  somewhat  be  said  concerning  this  addition.  Espe- 
cially in  as  much  as  it  comprehends  in  it,  or  may  infer, 
some  things  (not  yet  expressly  mentioned)  which  may  be 
thought  necessary  to  the  evincing  the  reasonablene.ss  of 
religion,  or  our  self-dedication  as  a  temple  to  him. 

For  instance,  it  may  po.ssibly  be  alleged,  that  if  it  were 
admitted  there  is  .somewhat  that  is  eternal,  uncaused,  in- 
dependent, necessarily  existent,  that  is  self-active,  living, 
powerful,  wise,  and  good  ;  yet  all  this  will  not  infer  upon 
us  a  universal  obligation  to  religion,  unless  it  can  also  be 
evinced,  I.  That  this  Being  is  every  way  sufficient  to  sup- 
ply and  satisfy  all  our  real  wants  and  just  desires.  And, 
2.  That  this  Being  is  but  one,  and  so  that  all  be  at  a  cer- 
tainty where  their  religion  ought  to  terminate ;  and  that 
the  worship  of  every  temple  must  concentre  and  meet  in 
the  same  object.  Now  the  eviction  of  an  absolutely  perfect 
Being  would  include  each  of  these  ;  and  answer  both  the 
purposes  which  may  seem  hitherto  not  so  fully  satisfied. 
It  is  therefore  requisite  that  we  endeavour. 

First,  To  show  that  the  Being  hitherto  described  is  ab- 
solutely or  every  way  perfect. 

Secondly,  To  deduce,  from  the  same  grounds,  the  abso- 
lute infinity,  and  the  unity  or  the  onliness  thereof, 

II.  And  for  the  former  part  of  this  undertaking,  it  mu.st 
be  acknowledged  absolute  or  universal  perfection  cannot 
be  pretended  to  have  been  expressed  in  any,  or  in  all  the 
works  of  God  together.  Neither  in  number,  for  aught  we 
know,  (for  as  we  cannot  conceive,  nor  consequently  speak. 


of  divine  perfections,  but  under  the  notion  of  many,  what- 
soever their  real  identity  may  be,  so  we  do  not  know,  but 
that  within  the  compass  of  universal  perfection  there  may 
be  some  particular  ones,  of  Avhich  there  is  no  footstep  in 
the  creation,  and  whereof  we  have  never  formed  any 
thought,)  nor  (more  certainly)  in  degree ;  for  surely  the 
world,  and  the  particular  creatures  in  it,  are  not  so  perfect 
in  correspondence  to  those  attributes  of  its  great  Architect, 
which  we  have  mentioned,  viz.  his  power,  wisdom,  and 
goodness,  as  he  might  have  made  them,  if  he  had  pleased. 
And  indeed,  to  say  the  world  were  absolutely  and  univer- 
sally perfect,  were  to  make  that  God. 

Wherefore  it  must  also  be  acknowledged  that  an  abso- 
lutely perfect  being  cannot  be  immediately  demonstrated 
from  its  efiects,  as  whereto  they  neither  do,  nor  is  it  within 
the  capacity  of  created  nature  that  they  can,  adequately 
correspond.  Whence,  therefore,  all  that  can  be  done  for 
the  evincing  of  the  absolute  and  universal  perfection  of 
God,  must  be  in  some  other  M^ay  or  method  of  discourse. 

And  though  it  be  acknowledged  that  it  cannot  be  imme- 
diately evidenced  from  the  creation,  yet  it  is  to  be  hoped 
that  mediately  it  may.  For  from  thence  (as  we  have  seen) 
a  necessary  self-originate  being,  such  as  hath  been  descri- 
bed, is,  with  the  greatest  certainty,  to  be  concluded  ;  and, 
from  thence,  if  we  attentively  consider,  we  shall  be  led  to 
an  absolutely  perfect  one.  That  is,  since  we  have  the  same 
certainty  of  such  a  necessary  self-originate  being,  as  we 
have  that  there  is  any  thing  existent  at  all ;  if  we  seriously 
weigh  what  kind  of  being  this  must  needs  be,  or  what  its 
notion  must  import,  above  what  hath  been  already  evinced; 
we  shall  not  be  found,  in  this  way,  much  to  fall  short  of 
our  present  aim,  though  we  have  also  other  evidence  that 
may  be  produced  in  its  own  fitter  place. 

Here  therefore  let  us  awhile  make  a  stand,  and  more 
distinctly  consider  how  far  we  are  already  advanced,  that 
we  may  with  the  better  order  and  advantage  make  our 
further  progress. 

These  two  things,  then,  are  already  evident :  L  That 
there  is  a  necessary  being  that  hath  been  eternally  of  itself, 
without  dependence  upon  any  thing,  either  as  a  productive 
or  conserving  cause ;  and,  of  itself,  full  of  activity  and 
vital  energy,  so  as  to  be  a  productive  and  sustaining  cause 
to  other  things.  Of  this  any  the  most  confused  and  indis- 
tinct view  of  this  world,  or  a  mere  taking  notice  that  there 
is  any  thing  in  being  that  lives  and  moves,  and  withal  that 
alters  and  changes,  (which  it  is  impos,sible  the  necessary 
being  itself  should  do,)  cannot  but  piTt  us  out  of  doubt. 
2.  That  this  necessary,  self-originate,  vital,  active  being, 
hath  very  vast  power,  admirable  wisdom,  and  most  free 
and  large  goodness  belonging  to  it.  And  of  this,  our 
nearer  and  more  deliberate  view  and  contemplation  of  the 
world  do  equally  ascertain  us.  For  of  these  things  we 
find  the  manifest  prints  and  footsteps  in  it.  Yea,  we  find 
the  derived  things  themselves,  power,  wisdom,  goodness, 
in  the  creatures  :  and  we  are  most  assured  they  have  not 
sprung  from  nothing;  nor  from  any  thing  that  had  them 
not.  And  that  which  originally  had  them,  or  was  their 
first  fountain,  must  have  them  necessarily  and  essentially, 
(together  with  whatsoever  else  belongs  to  its  being,)  in  and 
of  itself  So  that  the  asserting  of  any  other  necessary 
being,  that  is  in  itself  destitute  of  these  things,  signifies 
no  more  towards  the  giving  any  account  how  these  things 
came  to  be  in  the  world,  than  if  no  being,  necessarily 
existing,  were  asserted  at  all.  We  are  therefore,  by  the 
exigency  of  the  case  itself,  con.strained  to  acknowledge, 
not  only  that  there  is  a  necessary  being,  but  that  there  is 
such  a  one  as  could  be,  and  was,  the  fountain  and  cause 
of  all  those  several  kinds  and  degrees  of  being  and  per- 
fection that  we  take  notice  of  in  the  world  besides.  Ano- 
ther sort  of  necessary  being  should  not  only  be  asserted 
to  no  purpose,  there  being  nothing  to  be  gained  by  it,  no 
imaginable  use  to  be  made  of  it,  as  a  principle  that  can 
serve  any  valuable  esd  ;  (for  suppose  such  a  thing  as  ne- 
cessary matter,  it  will,  as  hath  been  shown,  be  unalterable; 
and  therefore  another  sort  of  matter  must  be  supposed  be- 
sides it,  that  may  be  the  matter  of  the  universe,  raised  up 
out  of  nothing  for  that  purpose,  unto  which  this  so  un- 
wieldy and  unmanageable  an  entity  can  never  serve  ;)  but 
also  it  will  be  impossible  to  be  proved.  No  man  can  be 
able  with  any  plausible  show  of  reason  to  make  it  out. 


:,HAP.  IV. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


31 


Yea,  and  much  may  he  said,  1  conceive  with  convincing 
evidence,  against  it.  As  may  perhaps  be  seen  in  the  sequel 
of  this  discourse. 

In  the  meantime,  that  there  is,  however,  a  necessary 
being,  unto  which  all  the  perfections  whereof  we  have  any 
footsteps  or  resemblances  in  the  creation  do  originally  and 
essentially  belong,  is  undeniably  evident. 

Now,  that  we  may  proceed,  what  can  self-essentiate, 
underived  power,  wisdom,  goodness,  be,  but  most  perfect 
power,  wisdom,  goodness'?  Or  such,  as  than  which  there 
can  never  be  more  perfect '!  For  since  there  can  be  no 
wisdom,  power,  or  goodness,  which  is  not  either  original 
and  self-essentiate,  or  derived  and  participated  from 
thence;  who  sees  not  that  the  former  must  be  the  more 
perfect?  Yea,  and  that  it  comprehends  all  the  other  (as 
what  was  from  it)  in  itself,  and  consequently  that  it  is  simply 
the  most  perfect  1  And  the  reason  will  be  the  same,  con- 
cerning any  other  perfection,  the  stamps  and  characters 
whereof  we  find  signed  upon  the  creatures. 

But  that  the  being  unto  which  these  belong  is  absolutely 
and  universally  perfect  in  every  kind,  must  be  further  evi- 
denced by  considering  more  at  large  the  notion  and  import 
of  such  a  self-originate  necessary  being. 

Some  indeed,  both  more  anciently, ^^  and  of  late,  have 
inverted  this  course;  and  from  the  supposition  of  absolute 
perfection,  have  gone  about  to  infer  necessity  of  existence, 
as  being  contained  in  the  idea  of  the  former.  But  of  this 
latter  we  are  otherwise  assured  upon  clearer  and  less  ex- 
ceptionable terms.  And  being  so,  are  to  consider  what 
improvement  may  be  made  of  it  to  our  present  purpose. 

And  in  the  general,  this  seems  manifestly  imported  in 
the  notion  of  the  necessary  being  we  have  already  evinced, 
that  it  have  in  it  (some  way  or  other,  in  what  way  there 
will  be  occasion  to  consider  hereafter)  the  entire  sum  and 
utmost  fulness  of  being,  beyond  which  or  without  the 
compass  whereof  no  perfection  is  conceivable,  or  indeed 
(whjch  is  of  the  same  import)  nothing. 

Let  it  be  observed,  that  we  pretend  not  to  argue  this 
from  the  bare  terms  necessary  being  only,  but  from  hence, 
that  it  is  such  as  we  have  found  it ;  though  indeed  these 
very  terms  import  not  a  little  to  this  purpose.  For  that 
which  is  necessarily  of  itself,  without  being  beholden  to 
any  thing,  seems  as  good  as  all  things,  and  to  contain  in 
itself  an  immense  fulness,  being  indigent  of  nothing.  Nor 
by  indigence  is  here  meant  cravingness,  or  a  sense  of  want 
only;  in  opposition  whereto,  every  good  and  virtuous  man 
hath  or  may  attain  a  sort  of  durapicEia  or  self-fulness,  and 
be  satisfied  from  himself:  (which  yet  is  a  stamp  of  di- 
vinity, and  a  part  of  the  image  of  God,  or  such  a  partici- 
pation of  the  divine  nature,  as  is  agreeable  to  the  state  and 
condition  of  a  creature:)  but  we  understand  by  it  (what 
is  naturally  before  that)  want  itself  really,  and  not  in 
opinion,  as  the  covetous  is  said  to  be  poor.  On  the  other 
hand,  we  here  intend  not  a  merely  rational,  (much  less  an 
imaginary,)  but  a  real  self-fulness.  And  so  we  say,  what 
is  of  that  nature,  that  it  is,  and  subsists  wholly  and  only 
of  itself,  without  depending  on  any  other,  must  owe  this 
absoluteness  to  so  peculiar  an  excellency  of  its  own  nature, 
as  we  cannot  well  conceive  to  be  less  than  whereby  it 
comprehends  in  itself  the  most  boundless  and  unlimited 
fulness  of  being,  lile,  power,  or  whatsoever  can  be  con- 
ceived under  the  name  of  a  perfection.  For  taking  notice 
of  the  existence  of  any  thing  whatsoever,  some  reason  must 
be  assignable,  whence  it  is  that  this  particular  being  doth 
exist,  and  hath  such  and  such  powers  and  properties  be- 
longing to  it,  as  do  occur  to  our  notice  therein.  When 
we  can  now  resolve  its  existence  into  some  cause  that  put 
it  into  being,  and  made  it  what  it  is,  we  cease  so  much  to 
admire  the  thing,  how  excellent  soever  it  be,  and  turn  our 
admiration  upon  its  cause,  concluding  that  to  have  all  the 
perfection  in  it  which  we  discern  in  the  effect,  whatsoever 
unknown  perfection  (which  we  may  suppose  is  very  great) 
it  may  have  besides.  And  upon  this  ground  we  are  led, 
when  we  behold  the  manifold  excellences  that  lie  dispersed 
among  particular  beings  in  this  universe,  with  the  glory  of 
the  whole  resulting  thence,  to  resolve  their  existence  into 

a  So  that  wliatevor  there  is  of  strcnsth  in  that  way  of  arcuing,  the  ?Ioiy 
of  it  cannot  be  without  injury  appropriated  to  tlie  present  age.  much  les-s 
to  any  particular  person  therein:  it  havine,  since  Anselni,  been  ventilated 
by  divprs  otMera  heretofore.     D.  Sect.  disf.  2.  Q.  2.  Th.  Aquin.  P.  1.  Q.  2. 


a  common  cause,  which  we  design  by  the  name  of  God. 
And  now  considering  him  as  a  wise  Agent,  (which  hath 
been  proved,)  and  consequent!}'  a  free  one,  that  acted  not 
from  any  necessity  of  nature,  but  his  mere  good  pleasure 
herein,  we  will  not  only  conclude  him  to  have  all  that 
perfection  and  excellency  in  him  which  we  fmd  him  to 
have  displaj-ed  in  so  vast  and  glorious  a  work,  but  will 
readily  believe  him  (supposing  we  have  admitted  a  con- 
viction concerning  what  hath  been  discoursed  before)  to 
have  a  most  inconceivable  treasure  of  hidden  excellency 
and  perfection  in  him,  that  is  not  represented  to  our  view 
in  this  work  of  his:  and  account,  that  he  who  could  do  all 
this  which  we  see  is  done,  coidd  do  unspeakably  more. 
For  though,  speaking  of  natural  and  necessitated  agents, 
which  always  act  to  their  uttermost,  it  would  be  absurd  to 
argue  from  their  having  done  some  lesser  thing,  to  their 
power  of  doing  somewhat  that  is  much  greater;  yet  as  to 
free  agents,  that  can  choose  their  own  act,  and  guide  them- 
selves by  wisdom  and  judgment  therein,  the  matter  is  not 
so.  As  when  some  great  prince  bestows  a  rich  largess 
upon  some  mean  person,  especially  that  deserved  nothing 
from  him,  or  was  recommended  by  nothing  to  his  royal 
favour,  besides  his  poverty  and  misery;  we  justly  take  it 
for  a  very  significant  demonstration  of  that  princely  mu- 
nificence and  bounty,  which  would  incline  him  to  do 
much  greater  things,  when  he  should  see  a  proportionable 
cause. 

But  now,  if  taking  notice  of  the  excellences  that  appear 
in  created  beings,  and  inquiring  how  they  come  to  exist 
and  be  what  they  are,  we  resolve  all  into  their  cause; 
which,  considering  as  perfecth'  free  and  arbitrary  in  all  his 
communications,  we  do  thence  rationally  conclude,  that  if 
he  had  thought  fit,  he  could  have  made  a  much  more 
pompous  display  of  himself;  and  that  there  is  in  him, 
besides  what  appears,  a  vast  and  most  abimdant  store  of 
undiscovered  perfection. 

When  next  we  turn  our  inquirj'  and  contemplation  more 
entirely  upon  the  cause,  and  bethink  ourselves.  But  how 
came  he  to  exist  and  be  what  he  isl  Finding  this  cannot 
be  refunded  upon  any  superior  cause;  and  our  utmost 
inquiry  can  admit  of  no  other  result  but  this,  that  he  is  of 
himself  what  he  is,  we  will  surely  say  then.  He  is  all  in 
all.  And  that  perfection  which  before  we  judged  vastly 
great,  we  will  now  conclude  altogether  absolute,  and  such 
beyond  which  no  greater  can  be  thought. 

Adding,  I  say,  to  what  pre-conceptions  we  had  of  his 
greatness,  from  the  works  which  we  see  have  been  done 
by  him,  (for  why  should  we  lose  any  ground  we  might 
have  esteemed  ourselves  to  have  gained  before'?)  the  con- 
sideration of  his  necessary  self-subsistence  :  and  that  no 
other  reason  is  assignable  of  his  being  what  he  is,  but  the 
peculiar  and  incommunicable  excellency  of  his  own  na- 
ture ;  whereby  he  was  not  only  able  to  make  such  a  world, 
but  did  possess  eternally  and  invariably  in  himself  all  that 
he  is,  and  hath :  we  cannot  conceive  that  all  to  be  less  than 
absolutely  universal,  and  comprehensive  of  whatsoever  can 
lie  within  the  whole  compass  of  being. 

For  when  we  find  that  among  all  other  beings,  (which 
is  most  certainly  true  not  only  of  actual,  but  all  possible 
beings  also,)  how  perfect  soever  they  are  or  may  be  in  their 
own  kinds,  none  of  them,  nor  all  of  them  together,  are  or 
ever  can  be  of  that  perfection,  as  to  he  of  themselves  with- 
out dependence  on  somewhat  else  as  their  productive,  yea 
and  sustaining,  cause;  we  see  besides,  that  their  cause 
hath  all  the  perfection,  soiue  way,  in  it  that  is  to  be  found 
in  them  all :  there  is  also  that  appropriate  perfection  be- 
longing thereto,  that  it  could  be ;  and  eternally  is  (j-ea  and 
could  not  but  be)  only  of  itself,  by  the  underiveti  and  in- 
communicable excellency  of  its  own  being.  And  surely, 
what  includes  in  it  all  the  perfection  of  all  actual  and  pos- 
sible beings,  besides  its  own,  (for  there  is  nothing  pos.■^ible 
which  some  cause,  yea  and  even  this,  cannot  produce,) 
and  inconceivably  more,  must  needs  he  absohiiely  and 
every  way  perfect.  Of  all  which  perfections  this  is  the 
radical  oiie,  that  belongs  to  this  common  Cause  and  Author 
of  all  things,  that  he  is  necessarily  and  only  self-subsisting. 

art.  1.  contra  Gentil.  1.  I.  c.  10.  Bradwardin.  1.  1.  c.  1.  And  by  divers  of 
late,  as  is  snlfiricntly  known,  some  rriecting,  others  much  connduie  in  iU 
botli  ofthe.se  former,  oud  of  iiioderii  writers. 


33 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  1. 


For  if  this  high  prerogative  in  point  of  being  had  been 
wanting,  nothing  at  all  had  ever  been.  Therefore  we  at- 
tribute to  God  the  greatest  thing  that  can  be  said  or 
thought,  (and  not  what  is  wholly  diverse  from  all  other 
perfection,  but  which  contains  all  others  in  it,)  when  we 
affirm  of  him  that  he  is  necessarily  of  himself  For  though 
when  we  have  bewildered  and  lost  ourselves  (as  we  soon 
may)  in  the  contemplation  of  this  amazing  subject,  we 
readily  indulge  our  wearied  minds  the  ease  and  liberty  of 
resolving  this  high  excellency  of  self  or  necessary  existence 
into  a  mere  negation,  and  say  that  we  mean  by  it  nothing- 
else  than  that  he  was  not  from  ano'her;  yet  surely,  if  we 
would  take  some  pains  with  ourselves,  and  keep  our 
slothful  shifting  thoughts  to  some  exercise  in  this  matter, 
though  we  can  never  comprehend  that  vast  fulness  of  per- 
fection which  is  imported  in  it,  (for  it  were  not  what  we 
plead  for,  if  we  could  comprehend  it,)  yet  we  should  soon 
see  and  confess  that  it  contains  unspeakably  more  than  a 
negation,  even  some  great  thing  that  is  so  much  beyond 
our  thoughts,  that  we  shall  reckon  we  have  said  but  a 
little  in  saying  we  cannot  conceive  it.  And  when  we 
have  stretched  our  understandings  to  the  utmost  of  their 
line  and  measure,  though  we  may  suppose  ourselves  to 
have  conceived  a  great  deal,  there  is  infmitely  more  that 
we  conceive  not. 

Wherefore  that  is  asober  and  most  important  truth  which 
is  occasionally  drawn  forth  (as  is  supposed)  from  the  so 
admired  Des  Cartes  bj'  the  urgent  objections  of  his  very 
acute,  friendly  adversary, b  that  the  inexhaustible  power  of 
God  is  the  reason  for  which  he  needed  no  cause  ;  and  that 
since  that  imexhausted  power,  or  the  immensity  of  his  es- 
sence, is  most  highly  positive,  therefore  he  may  be  said  to 
be  of  himself  positively,  i.  e.  not  as  if  he  did  ever  by  any 
positive  efficiency  cause  himself  (which  is  most  manifestly 
impossible)  but  that  the  positive  excellency  of  his  own 
being  was  such,  as  could  never  need,  nor  admit  of,  being 
caused. 

And  that  seems  highly  rational,  (which  is  so  largely  in- 
sisted on  by  Doctor  Jackson, >=  and  divers  others,)  that  what 
is  without  cause  must  also  be  without  limit  of  being;  be- 
cause all  limitation  proceeds  from  the  cause  of  a  thing, 
which  imparted  to  it  so  much  and  no  more ;  which  argu- 
ment, though  it  seems  neglected  by  Des  Cartes,  and  is 
opposed  by  his  antagonist;  yet  I  cannot  but  judge  that  the 
longer  one  meditates,  the  less  he  shall  understand,  how 
any  thing  can  be  limited  ad  intra,  or  from  itself,  &c.  As 
the  author  of  the  Tentam.  Phys.  Theol.  .speaks. 

But  that  we  may  entertain  ourselves  with  some  more 
particular  considerations  of  this  necessary  being,  which 
may  evince  that  general  assertion  of  its  absolute  plenitude 
or  fulness  of  e-ssence  :  it  appears  to  be  such, 

III.  As  is  first,  at  the  greatest  imaginable  distance  from 
non-entity.  For  what  can  be  at  a  greater,  than  that  which 
is  necessarily,  which  signifies  as  much  as  whereto  not  to 
be  is  utterly  impossible  1  Now  an  utter  impossibility  not 
to  be,  or  the  uttermost  distance  from  iio  being,  seems 
plainly  to  imply  the  absolute  plenitude  oi  all  being.  And, 
if  here  it  be  said  that  to  be  necessarily  and  of  itself  needs 
be  understood  to  import  no  more  than  a  firm  possession  of 
that  being  which  a  thing  hath,  be  it  never  so  scant  or  mi- 
nute a  portion  of  being;  I  answer,  it  seems  indeed  so,  if 
we  measure  the  signification  of  this  expression  by  its  first 
and  more  obvious  appearance.  But  if  you  consider  the 
matter  more  narrowly,  you  will  find  here  is  also  signified 
the  nature  and  kind  of  the  being  possessed,  as  well  as  the 
manner  of  possession,  viz.  that  it  is  a  being  of  so  excellent 
and  noble  a  kind,  as  that  it  can  subsist  alone  without  being 
beholden :  which  is  so  great  an  excellency,  as  that  it  man- 
ifestly comprehends  all  other,  or  is  the  foundation  of  all 
ihat  can  be  conceived  besides.  Which,  they  that  fondly 
dream  of  necessary  matter,  not  considering,  unwaringly 
make  one  single  atom  a  more  excellent  thing  than  the 
whole  frame  of  heaven  and  earth  :  tlud  being  supposed 
simply  necessary,  this  the  merest  piece  of  hap-hazard,  the 
strangest  chance  imaginable,  and  beyond  what  any  but 
themselves  could  ever  have  imagined.  And  which,  being 
considered,  would  give  us  to  understand  that  no  minute  or 
finite  being  can  be  necessarily. 

b  Ad  ob.  in  Med.  re§p.  quarts. 


And  hence  we  may  see  what  it  is  to  be  nearer,  or  at  a 
further  distance  from  not-being. 

For  these  things  that  came  contingently  into  being,  or  at 
the  pleasure  of  a  free  cause,  have  all  but  a  finite  and  limited 
being,  whereof  some,  having  a  smaller  portion  of  being 
than  others,  approach  so  much  the  nearer  to  not-being. 
Proportionably,  what  hath  its  being  necessarily  and  of 
itself,  is  at  the  furthest  distance  from  no-being,  as  compre- 
hending all  being  in  itself  Or,  to  borrow  the  expressions 
of  an  elegant  writer,  translated  into  our  own  language,d 
"We  have  much  more  non-essence  than  essence;  if  we 
have  the  essence  of  a  man,  yet  not  of  the  heavens,  or  of 
angels."  "We  are  confined  and  limited  within  a  parti- 
cular essence,  but  God,  who  is  what  he  is,  comprehendeth 
all  possible  essences." 

Nor  is  this  precariously  spoken,  or  as  what  may  be  hoped 
to  be  granted  upon  courtesy.  But  let  the  matter  be  rigidly 
examined  and  discussed,  and  the  certain  truth  of  it  will 
most  evidently  appear.  For  if  any  thing  be,  in  this  sense, 
remoter  than  other  from  no-being,  it  must  either  be,  what 
is  necessarily  of  itself,  or  what  is  contingently  at  the  plea- 
sure of  the  other.  But  since  nothing  is,  besides  that  self- 
originate  necessary  being,  but  what  was  from  it ;  and  no- 
thing from  it  but  what  was  within  its  productive  power ; 
it  is  plain  all  that,  with  its  own  being,  was  contained  in  it. 
And  therefore,  even  in  that  sense,  it  is  at  the  greatest  dis- 
tance from  no-being;  as  comprehending  the  utmost  fulness 
of  being  in  itself,  and  consequently  absolute  perfection. 
Which  will  yet  further  appear,  in  what  follows.  We  there- 
fore add, 

IV.  That  necessary  being  is  most  unmixed  or  purest 
being,  without  allay.  That  is  pure  which  is  full  of  itself. 
Purity  is  not  here  meant  in  a  corporeal  sense,  (which  few 
will  think,)  nor  in  the  moral ;  but  as,  with  metaphysicians, 
it  signifies  simplicity  of  essence.  And  in  its  present  use 
is  more  especially  intended  to  signify  that  simplicity  which 
is  opposed  to  the  composition  of  act  and  possibility.  We 
say  then,  that  necessary  being  imports  purest  actuality ; 
which  is  the  ultimate  and  highest  perfection  of  being.  For 
it  signifies  no  remaining  possibility,  yet  unreplete  or  not 
filled  up,  and  consequently  the  fullest  exuberancy  and  en- 
tire confluence  of  all  being,  as  in  its  fountain  and  original 
source.  We  need  not  here  look  further  to  evince  this, 
than  the  native  import  of  the  very  terms  themselves;  ne- 
cessity and  possibilHy ;  the  latter  whereof  is  not  so  fitly 
said  to  be  excluded  the  former,  as  contingency  is,  but  to  be 
swallowed  up  of  it;  as  fulness  takes  up  all  the  space 
which  were  otherwise  nothing  but  vacuity  or  emptiness. 
It  is  plain  then  that  necessary  being  engrosses  all  possible 
being,  both  that  is,  and  (for  the  same  reason)  that  ever  was 
so.  For  nothing  can  be,  or  ever  was,  in  possibility  to 
come  into  being,  but  what  either  must  spring,  or  hath 
sprung,  from  the  necessary  self-subsisting  being. 

So  that  unto  all  that  vast  possibility,  a  proportionable 
actuality  of  this  being  must  be  understood  to  correspond. 
Else  the  other  were  not  possible.  For  nothing  is  possible 
to  be  produced  which  is  not  within  the  actual  productive 
power  of  the  necessary  being:  I  say  -within  its  actual  pro- 
ductive power;  for  if  its  power  for  such  production  were 
not  already  actual,  it  could  never  become  so,  and  so  were 
none  at  all :  inasmuch  as  necessary  being  can  never  alter, 
and  consequently  can  never  come  actually  to  be  what  it 
already  is  not;  upon  which  account  it  is  truly  said,  In 
ecternis  posse  el  esse  sunt  idem.  Wherefore  in  it,  is  nothing 
else  but  pure  actuality,  as  profound  and  vast  as  is  the  ut- 
most possibility  of  all  created  or  producible  being;  i.  e.  it 
can  be  nothing  other  than  it  is,  but  can  do  all  things,  of 
which  more  hereafter.  It  therefore  stands  opposed,  not 
only,  more  directly,  to  impossibility  of  being,  which  is  the 
most  proper  notion  of  no-being,  but  some  way,  even  to 
possibility  also.  That  is,  the  possibility  of  being  any  thing 
but  what  it  is;  as  being  every  way  complete  and  perfectly 
full  already. 

V.  Again,  we  might  further  add,  that  it  is  the  most  ab- 
stracted being,  or  is  being  in  the  very  abstract.  A  thing 
much  insisted  on  by  some  of  the  schoolmen.  And  the 
notion  which  with  much  obscurity  they  pursue  after  their 
manner,  may  carry  some  such  sense  as  this,  (if  it  may, 

c  Of  the  Essence  and  Attributes  of  God.  d  Camin. 


Chap.  IV. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


33 


throughout,  be  called  sense,)  that  whereas  no  created  na- 
ture is  capable  of  any  other  than  mere  mental  abstraction, 
but  exists  al\va3's  in  concretion  with  some  subject,  that,  be 
it  never  so  refined,  is  grosser  and  less  perfect  than  itself; 
so  that  we  can  distinguish  the  mentally  abstracted  essence, 
and  (he  thing  which  hath  that  essence  ;  by  which  concre- 
tion, essence  is  limited,  and  is  only  the  particular  essence 
of  this  or  that  thing,  which  hath  or  possesses  that  essence. 
The  necessary  being  is,  in  strict  propriety,  not  so  truly 
said  to  have  essence,  as  to  be  it,  and  exist  separately  by 
itself;  not  as  limited  to  this  or  that  thing.  Whence  it  is, 
in  itself,  universal  essence,  containing  therefore,  not  for- 
malh^  but  eminently,  the  being  of  all  things  in  perfect 
simplicity.  Whence  all  its  own  attributes  are  capable  of 
being  atfirmed  of  it  in  the  abstract, >=  that  it  is  wisdom, 
power,  goodness;  and  not  only  hath  these,  and  that  upon 
this  accoimt  it  is  a  being,  which  is  necessarily  and  of  itself. 
For  that  which  is  necessarily  and  of  itself,  is  not  whatso- 
ever it  is  by  the  accession  of  any  thing  to  itself,  whereof 
necessary  being  is  incapable;  but  by  its  own  simple  and 
unvariable  essence.  Other  being  is  upon  such  terras 
powerful,  wise,  yea,  and  existent,  as  that  it  maj^  cease  to 
be  so.  Whereas  to  necessary  being,  it  is  manifestly  repug- 
nant, and  impossible  either  simply  not  to  be,  or  to  be  any 
thing  else  but  what  and  as  it  is.  And  though  other  things 
may  have  properties  belonging  to  their  essence  not  separa- 
ble from  it,  3^et  they  are  not  their  very  essence  itself.  And, 
whereas  they  are  in  a  possibility  to  lose  their  very  exist- 
ence, the  knot  and  ligament  of  whatsoever  is  most  intimate 
to  their  actual  being,  all  then  falls  from  them  together. 
Here,  essence,  properties,  and  existence,  are  all  one  simple 
thing  that  can  never  cease,  decay,  or  change,  because  the 
whole  being  is  necessary.  Now,  all  this  being  supposed, 
of  the  ibrce  of  that  form  of  speech,  when  we  afhrm  any 
thing  in  the  abstract  of  another,  we  may  admit  the  common 
sense  of  men  to  be  the  interpreter.  For  every  body  can 
tell,  though  they  do  not  know  the  meaning  of  the  word 
abstract,  what  we  intend  when  we  use  that  phrase  or 
manner  of  speaking.  As  when  we  say,  by  way  of  hyper- 
bolical commendation.  Such  a  man  is  not  only  learned, 
but  learning  itself;  or  he  not  only  hath  much  of  virtue, 
justice,  and  goodness  in  him,  but  he  is  virtue,  justice,  and 
goodness  itself,  (as  was  once  said  of  an  excellent  pagan 
virtuoso,  that  I  may  borrow  leave  to  use  that  word  in  the 
moral  sense,)  every  one  knows  the  phrase  intends  the  ap- 
propriating all  learning,  virtue,  justice,  goodness,  to  such 
a  one.  Which,  because  they  know  unappropriable  to  any 
man,  they  easily  understand  it  to  be,  in  such  a  case,  a 
rhetorical  strain  and  form  of  speech.  And  yet  could  not 
know  that,  if  also  they  did  not  understand  its  proper  and 
native  import.  An.d  so  it  may  as  well  be  understood  what 
is  meant  by  saying  of  God,  He  is  being  itself.  With 
which  sense  may  be  reconciled  that  of  (the  so  named) 
Dionysius  the  Areopagite  ;f  that  God  is  not  so  properly 
said  to  be  of,  or  be  in,  or  to  have,  or  partake,  of  being,  as 
that  it  is  of  him,  &c.  Inasmuch  as  he  is  the  pre-existent 
Being  to  all  being  ;  i.  e.  if  we  understand  him  to  mean  all 
besides  his  own.  In  which  sen.se  taking  being  for  that 
which  is  communicated  and  imparted,  he  may  truly  be 
said,  (as  this  author  and  the  Platonists  generally  speak,?) 
to  be  super-essential  or  super-substantial.  But  how  fitly 
being  is  taken  in  that  restrained  sense,  we  may  say  more 
hereafter. 

In  the  meantime,  what  hath  been  said  concerning  this 
abstractedness  of  the  necessary  being,  hath  in  it  somethings 
so  unintelligible,  and  is  accompanied  with  so  great  (un- 
mentioned)  difficulties,  (which  it  would  give  us,  perhaps, 
more  labour  than  profit  to  discuss,)  and  the  absolute  per- 
fection of  God  appears  so  evidenceable  otherwise,  by  what 
halh  been  and  may  be  further  said,  that  we  are  no  way 
concerned  to  lay  the  stress  of  the  cause  on  this  matter 
only. 

VI.  Moreover,  necessary  being  is  the  cause  and  author 
of  all  being  besides.  Whatsoever  is  not  necessary,  is 
caused ;  for  not  having  being  of  itself,  it  must  be  put  into 

e  To  which  purpose  we  may  take  notice  of  the  words  of  one.  not  the  less 
wortliv  to  hr  nnmril,  for  not  being  reckoned  of  tliat  fore-menlioned  order.  Si 
eiiim  denominative  de  co  qciippiam  praedicaretur.  abstractum  esset  turn  aUud 
ah  if'SO,  turn  ipso  prius.  Q,nod  .sane  impinni  est.  oimre  neqiie  ens  est  sed  es- 
sentia, ncqiie  bonui  sed  bonitits  est.     Jul.  Scr.l  Exen:  365 

i  Kai  avTO  oe  to  ctnai  ck  tov  npoovros,  xai  tiVTOv  earc  ie  to  stvat,  nat  ovk 


being  by  somewhat  else.  And  ma.smuch  as  there  is  no 
middle  sort  of  being  betwixt  necessor}'  and  not  necessary, 
and  all  that  is  not  necessary  is  caused,  it  is  plain  that 
which  is  necessary  must  be  the  cause  of  all  the  rest.  And 
surely  what  is  the  cause  of  all  being  besides  its  own,  must 
needs,  one  way  or  other,  contain  its  own  and  all  other  in 
itself,  and  is  consequently  comprehensive  of  the  utmost 
fulness  of  being ;  or  is  the  absolutely  perfect  being,  (as 
must  equally  be  acknowledged,)  unless  any  one  would 
imagine  himself  to  have  got  the  notice  of  some  perfection 
that  lies  without  the  compass  of  all  being. 

Nor  is  it  an  exception  worth  the  mentioning,  that  there 
may  be  a  conception  of  possible  being  or  perfection,  which 
the  necessary  being  hath  not  caused.  For  it  is,  manifesilj'', 
as  well  the  possible  cause  of  all  possible  being  and  per- 
fection, as  the  actual  cause  of  what  is  actual.  And  what 
it  is  possible  to  it  to  produce,  it  hath  within  its  productive 
power,  as  hath  been  said  before. 

And  if  the  matter  did  require  it,  we  might  say  further, 
that  the  same  necessary  being  which  hath  been  the  pro- 
ductive cause,  is  also  the  continual  root  and  basis  of  all 
being,  which  is  not  necessary.  For  what  is  of  itself,  and 
cannot,  by  the  special  privilege  of  its  own  being,  but  be, 
needs  nothing  to  sustain  it,  or  needs  not  trust  to  any  thing 
besides  its  own  eternal  stability.  But  what  is  not  so, 
seems  to  need  a  continual  reproduction  everj'  moment, 
and  to  be  no  more  capable  of  continuing  in  being  by  itself, 
than  it  was,  by  itself,  of  coming  into  being.  For  (as  is 
frequently  alleged  by  that  so  often  mentioned  author)  since 
there  is  no  connexion  betwixt  the  present  and  future  time, 
but  what  is  easily  capable  of  rupture,  it  is  no  way  conse- 
quent that,  because  I  am  now,  I  shall  therefore  be  the 
next  moment,  further  than  as  the  free  Author  of  my  being 
shall  be  pleased  to  continue  his  own  most  arbilrar)'  in- 
fluence, for  m}''  support.  This  seems  highly  probable  to 
be  true,  whether  that  reason  signif}^  any  thing  or  nothing. 
And  that  thence,  also,  continual  conservation  differs  not 
from  creation.  Which,  whether  (as  is  said  by  the  same 
author)  it  be  one  of  the  things  that  are  manifest  by  natural 
light,  or  whether  a  positive  act  be  needless  to  the  annihi- 
lation of  created  things,  but  only  the  withholding  of  in- 
fluence, let  them  examine  that  apprehend  the  cause  to 
need  it.  And  if,  upon  inquiry,  they  judge  it  at  lea«t 
evidenceable  by  natural  light  to  be  so,  (as  I  doubt  not 
they  will.)  they  will  have  this  further  ground  upon  which 
thus  to  reason  :  that,  inasmuch  as  the  necessary  being 
subsists  wholly  by  itself,  and  is  that  whereon  all  other 
doth  totally  depend,  it  hereupon  follows,  that  it  mu.st, 
some  way,  contain  in  itself  all  being.  We  may  yet  fur- 
ther add. 

That  the  necessary  being  we  have  evinced,  though  it 
have  caused  and  do  continually  sustain  all  things,  yet 
doth  not  itself  in  the  meantime  suffer  any  diminution. 
It  is  not  possible,  nor  consistent  with  the  very  terms  ne- 
cessary being,  that  it  can.  It  is  true,  that  if  such  a  thing 
as  a  necessary  atom  were  admitted,  that  would  be  also 
undiminishable,  it  were  not  else  an  atom.  But  as  nothing 
then  can  flow  from  it,  as  from  a  perfect  parvitude  nothing 
can,  so  it  can  effect  nothing.  And  the  reason  is  the  same 
of  manj'  as  of  one.  Nor  would  undiminishableness,  upon 
such  terms,  signify  any  thing  to  the  magnif\-ing  the  value 
of  such  a  trifle. 

But  this  is  none  of  the  present  case :  for  our  eyes  tell 
us  here  is  a  world  in  being,  which  we  are  sure  is  not  itself 
necessarily;  and  was  therefore  made  by  him  that  is.  And 
that,  without  mutation  or  change  in  him ;  against  which 
the  very  notion  of  a  necessary  being  is  most  irreconcilably 
reluctant ;  and  therefore  without  diminution,  which  can- 
not be  conceived  without  change. h 

Wherefore  how  inexhaustible  a  fountain  of  life,  being, 
and  all  perfection,  have  we  here  representedioourthoughts ! 
from  whence  this  vast  universe  is  sprnn?,  and  iscontintially 
springing,  and  that  in  the  meantime  receiving  no  recruits 
or  foreign  supplies,  yet  suffers  no  impairment  or  lessening 
of  itself!  What  is  this  but  absolute  all-fulness  1   And  it  is 

avToi  rnv  firat,  Ka(  cv  avrtoi  errrt  to  ctvai,  xai  ovk  aVTO(  tv  rtot  tivai,  «raj 
arrnv  rvfi  rn  firm.  >cai  ovk  ai'To;  ?\rf  to  eivai.  De  Dirinis  nomin.  Co.  S. 

e  Proclus  in  Plat.  Theol.  1.  2.  c  4. 

It  E"  r'c  -ravTni  nit  \Ofi£iii,  KaOopa.  Trriyrjv  fin-  ^(.ii;f,  ti?)  j/v  ce  ►of,  ap\r]v 
oiTos.  ayal^ov  a(Ttay  plt^ap  \l'V\ri(;  ovk  «  xto/uycMni  air'  avTOV  eir'  (KCO'Coy 
e\aTTOvvTO)i:   Plotinm  Enn.  6. 1.  9.  C.  9. 


34 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  L 


so  far  from  arguing  any  deficiency  or  mutability  in  his 
nature,  that  there  is  this  continual  issue  of  power  and 
virtue  from  him,  that  it  demonstrates  its  high  excellency 
that  this  can  be  without  decay  or  mutation.  For  of  all 
this,  we  are  as  certain  as  we  can  be  of  any  thing  :  that 
many  things  are  not  necessarily,  that  the  being  must  be 
necessary  from  whence  all  things  else  proceed,  and  that 
with  necessary  being  change  is  inconsistent.  It  is  therefore 
unreasonable  to  entertain  any  doubt  that  things  are  so, 
which  most  evidently  appear  to  be  so,  only  because  it  is 
beyond  our  measure  and  compass  to  apprehend  how  they 
are  so.  And  it  would  be  to  doubt,  against  our  own  eyes, 
whether  there  he  any  such  thing  as  motion  in  the  world, 
or  composition  of  bodies,  because  we  cannot  give  a  clear 
account,  so  as  to  avoid  all  difficulties,  and  the  entanglement 
of  the  common  sophisms  about  them,  how  these  things 
are  performed.  In  the  present  case,  we  have  no  difficulty 
but  what  is  to  be  resolved  into  the  perfection  of  the  divine 
nature,  and  the  imperfection  of  our  own.  And  how  easily 
conceivable  is  it,  that  somewhat  may  be  more  perfect,  than 
that  we  can  conceive  it.  If  we  cannot  conceive  the  manner 
of  God's  causation  of  things,  or  the  nature  of  his  causa- 
tive influence,  it  only  shows  their  high  excellency,  and 
gives  us  the  more  ground  (since  this  is  that  into  which 
both  his  own  revelation  and  the  reason  of  things  most 
naturally  lead  us  to  resolve  all)  to  admire  the  mighty 
efficacy  of  his  all-creating  and  all-sustaining  will  and 
word ;  that  in  that  easy  unexpensive  way,  by  his  mere  fiat, 
so  great  tViings  should  be  performed. 

VII.  We  only  say  further,  that  this  necessary  Being  is 
such  to  which  nothing  can  be  added ;  so  as  that  it  should 
be  really  greater,  or  better,  or  more  perfect,  than  it  was 
before.  And  this  not  only  .signifies,  that  nothing  can  be 
joined  to  it,  so  as  to  become  a  part  of  it,  (which  necessary 
being,  by  its  natural  immutability,  manifestly  refuses,)  but 
we  also  intend  by  it,  that  all  things  else,  with  it,  contain 
not  more  of  real  perfection  than  it  doth  alone.  Which, 
though  it  carries  a  difficulty  with  it  that  we  intend  not 
wholly  to  overlook  when  it  shall  be  seasonable  to  consider 
it,  is  a  most  apparent  and  demonstrable  truth.  For  it  is 
plain  that  all  being  and  perfection  which  is  not  necessary, 
proceeds  from  that  which  is,  as  the  cause  of  it ;  and  that 
no  cause  could  communicate  any  thing  to  another  Avhich 
it  had  not,  some  way,  in  it.self  Wherefore  it  is  manifestly 
consequent  that  all  other  being  was  wholly  before  com- 
prehended in  that  which  is  necessary,  as  having  been 
wholly  produced  by  it.  And  what  is  wholly  comprehended 
of  another,  i.  e.  within  its  productive  power,  before  it  be 
produced,  can  be  no  real  addition  to  it,  when  it  is. 

Now  what  can  be  supposed  to  import  fulness  of  being 
and  perfection,  more  than  this  impossibility  of  addition, 
or  that  there  can  be  nothing  greater  or  more  perfect"? 

And  now  these  considerations  are  mentioned,  without 
solicitude  whether  tliey  be  so  many  exactly  distinct  heads. 
For  admit  that  they  be  not  all  distinct,  but  some  are  in- 
volved with  others  of  them,  yet  the  same  truth  may  more 
powerfully  strike  some  understandings  in  one  form  of  re- 
presentation, others  in  another.  And  it  suffices,  that 
(though  not  severally)  they  do  together  plainly  evidence 
that  the  necessary  being  includes  the  absolute,  entire  ful- 
ness, of  all  being  and  perfection  actual  and  possible  within 
itself 

Having  therefore  thus  despatched  that  former  part  of  this 
undertaking,  the  eviction  of  an  every-way  perfect  being, 
we  shall  now  need  to  labour  little  in  the  other,  viz. 

VIII.  Secondly,  The  more  express  deduction  of  the  in- 
finifeness  and  onliness  thereof. 

For  as  to  the  former  of  these,  it  is  in  effect  the  same 
thing  that  hath  been  already  proved ;  since  to  the  fullest 
notion  of  infiniteness,  absolute  perfection  seems  every  way 
most  fully  to  correspond.  For  absolute  perfection  includes 
all  conceivable  perfection,  leaves  nothing  excluded.  And 
what  doth  most  simple  infiniteness  import,  but  to  have 
nothing  for  a  boundary,  or,  which  is  the  same,  not  to  be 
bounded  at  all  1 

We  intend  not  now,  principally,  infiniteness  extrinsi- 
cally  considered,  with  respect  to  time  and  place,  as  to  be 
eternal  and  immense  do  import ;  but  inlrinsically,  as  im- 
porting bottomless  profundity  of  essence,  and  the  full  con- 
fluence of  all  kinds  and  degrees  of  perfection,  without 


bound  or  limit.  This  is  the  same  with  absolute  perfec- 
tion :  which  yet,  if  any  should  suspect  not  to  be  so,  they 
might,  however,  easily  and  expressly  prove  it  of  the  neces- 
sary being,  upon  the  same  grounds  that  have  been  already 
allegedfbrproof  of  that: — as  that  the  necessary  being  hath 
actuality  answerable  to  the  utmost  possibility  of  the  crea- 
ture; that  it  is  the  only  root  and  cause  of  all  other  being, 
the  actual  cause  of  whatsoever  is  actually  •,  the  possible 
cause  of  whatsoever  is  possible  to  be:  which  is  most  ap- 
parently true,  and  hath  been  evidenced  to  be  so,  by  what 
hath  been  said,  so  lately,  as  that  it  needs  not  be  repeated. 
That  is,  in  short,  that  nothing  that  is  not  necessarily,  and 
of  itself,  could  ever  have  been  or  can  be,  but  as  it  hath 
been  or  shall  be  put  into  being  by  that  which  is  necessa- 
rily, and  of  itself  So  that  this  is  as  apparent  as  that  any 
thing  is,  or  can  be. 

But  now  let  sober  reason  judge,  whether  there  can  be 
any  bounds  or  limits  set  to  the  possibility  of  producible 
being;  either  in  respect  of  kinds,  numbers,  or  degrees  of 
perfection  1  Who  can  say  or  think,  when  there  can  be  so 
many  sorts  oi"  creatures  produced,  (or  at  least  individuals 
of  those  sorts,)  that  there  can  be  no  morel  Or  that  any 
creature  is  so  perfect  as  that  none  can  be  made  more  per- 
fect 1  Which  indeed,  to  suppose,  were  to  suppose  an  actual 
infiniteness  in  the  creature.  And  then  it  being,  however, 
still  but  somewhat  that  is  created  or  made,  how  can  ilp; 
maker  but  be  infinite'?  For  surely  nobody  will  be  so  ab- 
surd as  to  imagine  an  infinite  effect  of  a  finite  cause. 

Either  therefore  the  creature  is,  or  some  time  may  be 
actually  made,  so  perfect  that  it  cannot  be  more  perfect,  or 
not.  If  not,  we  have  our  purpose ;  that  there  is  an  infinite 
possibility  on  the  part  of  the  creature,  always  unreplete; 
and  consequently,  a  proportionable  infinite  actuality  of 
power  on  the  Creator's  part.  Infinite  power,  I  say;  other- 
wise there  were  not  that  acknowledged  infinite  possibility 
of  producible  being.  For  nothing  is  producible  that  no 
power  can  produce,  be  the  intrinsic  possibility  of  it  (or  its 
not-implying  in  itself  a  contradiction  that  it  should  exist) 
what  it  will.  And  I  say,  infinite  actual  power,  because 
the  Creator,  being  what  he  is  necessarily,  what  power  he 
hath  not  actually,  he  can  never  have,  as  was  argued  before. 
But  if  it  be  said,  the  creature  either  is,  or  may  some  time 
be,  actually  so  perfect  as  that  it  cannot  be  more  perfect; 
that,  as  was  said,  will  suppose  it  then  actually  infinite ; 
and  therefore  much  more  that  its  cause  is  so.  And  there- 
fore in  this  way  our  present  purpose  woirld  be  gained  also. 
But  we  have  no  mind  to  gain  it  this  latter  way,  as  we  have 
no  need.  It  is  in  itself  plain,  to  any  one  that  considers, 
that  this  possibility  on  the  creature's  part  can  never  actu- 
ally be  filled  up;  that  it  is  a  bottomless  abyss,  in  which 
our  thoughts  may  still  gradually  go  down  deeper  and 
deeper,  without  end:  that  is,  that  still  more  might  be  pro- 
duced, or  more  perfect  creatures,  and  still  more,  everlast- 
ingly, without  any  bound;  which  sufficiently  infers  what 
we  aim  at,  that  the  Creator's  actual  power  is  proportion- 
able. And  indeed  the  supposition  of  the  former  can  neither 
consist  with  the  Creator's  perfection,  nor  with  the  imper- 
fection of  the  creature;  it  would  infer  that  the  Creator's 
productive  power  might  be  exhausted ;  that  he  could  do 
no  more,  and  so  place  an  actual  boundary  to  him,  and 
make  him  finite.  It  were  to  make  the  creature  actually 
full  of  being,  that  it  could  receive  no  more,  and  so  would 
make  that  infinite.  But  it  may  be  said,  siirce  all  power  is 
in  order  to  act,  and  the  very  notion  of  possibility  imports 
that  such  a  thing,  of  which  it  is  said,  may,  some  time,  be 
actual ;  it  seems  very  unreasonable  to  say,  that  the  infinite 
power  of  a  cause  cannot  produce  an  infinite  effect;  or  that 
infinite  possibility  can  never  become  infinite  actuality.  For 
that  were  to  say  and  imsay  the  same  thing,  of  the  same; 
to  affirm  omnipotency  and  impotency  of  the  same  cause  ; 
possibility  and  impossibility  of  the  same  effect. 

How  urgent  soever  this  difficulty  may  seem,  there  needs 
nothing  but  patience  and  attentive  consideration  to  disen- 
tangle ourselves  and  get  through  it.  For  if  we  will  but 
allow  ourselves  the  leisure  to  consider,  we  shall  find  that 
power  and  possibility  must  here  be  taken  not  simply  and 
abstractedly,  but  as  each  of  them  is  in  conjunction  with 
infinite.  And  what  is  infinite,  but  that  which  can  never 
be  travelled  through,  or  whereof  no  end  can  he  ever  arrived 
unto?    Now  suppo.se  infinite  power  had  produced  all  that 


ClIAP.  IV. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


J5 


it  could  produce,  it  were  no  longer  infinite,  there  were  an 
and  of  it :  i.  e.  it  had  found  limits  and  a  boundary  beyond 
which  it  could  not  go.  If  infinite  possibility  were  filled 
up,  there  were  an  end  of  that  also  ;  and  so  neither  were 
infinite. 

It  may  then  be  further  urged,  that  there  is  therefore  no 
such  thing  as  infinite  power  or  possibility.  For  how  is 
that  cause  said  to  have  infinite  power,  which  can  never 
pioduce  its  proportionable  etlect,  orthat  eflfect  have  infinite 
possibility,  which  can  never  be  produced  1  It  would  follow 
then,  that  power  and  possibility,  which  are  said  to  be  in- 
finite, are  neither  power  nor  possibility  ;  and  that  infinite 
must  be  rejected  as  a  notion  either  repugnant  to  itself,  or 
to  any  thing  unto  which  we  shall  go  about  to  affix  it. 

I  answer.  It  only  follows,  they  are  neither  power  nor 
possibility,  whereof  there  is  any  bound  or  end;  or  that 
can  ever  be  gone  through.  And  how  absurd  is  it  that  they 
shall  be  said,  as  they  cannot  but  be,  to  be  both  very  vast, 
if  they  were  finite  ;  and  none  at  all,  for  no  other  reason 
but  their  being  infinite !  And  for  the  pretended  repugnancy 
of  the  very  notion  of  infinite,  it  is  plain,  that  though  it  can- 
not be  to  us  distinctly  comprehensible,  yet  it  is  no  more 
repugnant  than  the  notion  of  finiteness.  Nor  when  we 
have  conceived  of  power,  in  the  general,  and  in  our  own 
thoughts  set  boimds  to  it,  and  made  it  finite,  is  it  a  greater 
difficulty  (nay,  they  that  try  will  find  it  much  easier) 
again  to  think  away  these  bounds,  and  make  it  infinite  1 
And  let  them  that  judge  the  notion  of  infiniteness  incon- 
sistent, therefore  reject  it  if  they  can.  They  will  feel  it 
reimposing  itself  upon  them,  whether  they  will  or  no,  and 
It'  sticking  as  close  to  their  minds  as  their  very  thinking  power 
itself  And  who  was  therefore  ever  heard  of,  that  did  not 
acknowledge  some  or  other  infinite  1  Even  the  Epicure- 
ans themselves,  though  they  confined  their  gods,  they  did 
not  the  universe.  Which,  also,  though  some  Peripatetic 
atheists  made  finite  in  respect  of  place,  yet  in  duration 
they  made  it  infinite.  Though  the  notion  of  an  eternal 
world  is  encumbered  with  such  absurdities  and  impossi- 
bilities, as  whereof  there  is  not  the  least  shadow,  in  that, 
of  an  every  way  infinite  Deit}^ 

Briefly,  it  consists  not  with  the  nature  of  a  contingent 
being,  to  be  infinite.  For  what  is  upon  such  terms,  only, 
in  being,  is  reducible  to  nothing,  at  the  will  and  pleasure 
of  its  maker;  but  it  is  a  manifest  repugnancy,  that  what 
is  at  the  utmost  distance  from  nothing  (as  infinite  fulness 
of  being  cannot  but  be)  should  be  reducible  thither. 
Therefore  actual  infinity  cannot  but  be  the  peculiar  privi- 
lege of  that  which  is  necessarily. 

Yet  may  we  not  say,  that  it  is  not  within  the  compass 
of  infinite  power  to  make  a  creature  that  may  be  infinite. 
For  it  argues  not  want  of  power  that  this  is  never  to  be 
done,  but  a  still  infinitely  abounding  surplusage  of  it,  that 
can  never  be  drained  or  drawn  diy.  Nor,  that  the  thing 
it.self  is  simply  impossible.  It  may  be,  as  is  compendiously 
expressed  by  that  most  succinct  and  polite  writer.  Dr. 
Boyle, i  in  fieri,  not  in  facto  esse.  That  is,  it  might  be  a 
thing  always  in,  doing,  but  never  done.  Because  it  belongs 
to  the  infinite  perfection  of  God,  that  his  power  be  never 
actually  exhausted ;  and  to  the  infinite  imperfection  of  the 
creature,  that  its  possibility  or  capacity  be  never  filled  up: 
to  the  necessary  self-subsisting  being,  to  be  always  full 
and  communicative;  to  the  communicated  contingent  be- 
ing, to  be  ever  emptj^  and  craving.  One  maj'  be  said  to 
have  that,  some  way,  in  his  power,  not  only  which  he  can 
do  presently,  all  at  once,  but  which  he  can  do  by  degrees, 
and  supposing  he  have  sufficient  time.  So  a  man  may  be 
reckoned  able  to  do  that,  as  the  uttermost,  adequate  etlect 
of  his  whole  power,  which  it  is  only  possible  to  him  to 
have  effected,  with  the  expiration  of  his  life's-time.  God's 
measure  is  eternit)^  What  if  we  say  then,  this  is  a  work 
possible  to  be  accomplished,  even  as  the  ultimate,  propor- 
tionable issue  of  divine  power,  (if  it  were  his  will,  upon 
which  all  contingent  being  depends,)  that  the  creature 
should  be  ever  growing  in  the  mean  while,  and  be  abso- 
lutely perfect  at  the  expiration  of  eternity'?  If  then  you 
be  good  at  suppositions,  suppose  that  expired,  and  this 
work  finished,  both  together.  Wherefore  if  you  ask.  Why 
can  the  work  of  making  created  being  infinite,  never  be 


done  1  The  answer  will  be,  Because  eternity  (in  every 
imaginable  instant  whereof,  the  inexhaustible  power  of 
God  can,  if  he  will,  be  still  adding  either  more  creatures, 
or  more  perfection  to  a  creature)  can  never  be  at  an  end. 

We  might  further  argue  the  infinity  of  the  necessaiy 
being,  from  what  hath  been  said  of  its  undiminiskaileness, 
by  all  its  vast  communications.  Its  impossibilityk  to  re- 
ceive any  accession  to  itself,  by  any  its  so  great  productions, 
both  which  are  plainly  demonstrable,  as  we  have  seen,  of 
the  necessary  being,  even  as  it  is  such,  and  do  clearly,  as 
any  thing  can,  bespeak  infinity.  But  we  have  thence  ar- 
gued its  absolute  perl'ection,  which  so  evidently  includes 
the  same  thing;,  that  all  this  latter  labour  might  have  been 
spared;  were  it  not  that  it  is  the  genius  of  some  persons 
not  to  be  content  that  they  have  the  substance  of  a  thing 
said,  unless  it  be  also  said  in  tlieir  o^Ti  terms.  And  that 
the  express  asserting  of  God's  simple  infiniteness,  in  those 
very  terms,  is,  in  that  respect,  the  more  requisite,  as  it  is 
a  form  of  expression  more  known  and  usual. 

IX.  There  are  yet  some  remaining  difficulties  in  the 
matter  we  have  been  discoursing  of;  which  partly  through 
the  debility  of  our  own  minds  we  cannot  but  find,  and 
which  partly  the  subtilty  of  sophistical  wits  doth  create  to 
us.  It  will  be  requisite  we  have  some  consideration  of  at 
least  some  of  them,  which  we  will  labour  to  despatch  with 
all  possible  brevity ;  leaving  those  that  delight  in  the  .sport 
of  tying  and  loosing  knots,  or  of  weaving  snares  wherein 
cunningly  to  entangle  themselves,  to  be  entertained  by  the 
school-men;  among  whom  they  may  find  enough,  upon 
this  subject,  to  give  them  exercise  unto  weariness ;  and,  if 
their  minds  have  any  relish  of  what  is  more  savorj',  I  may 
venture  to  say,  unto  loathing. 

It  may  possibly  be  here  said,  in  short,  But  what  have 
we  all  this  while  been  doing?  We  have  been  labouring 
to  prove  that  necessary  being  comprehends  the  absolute 
fulness  of  all  being  :  and  what  doth  this  signify,  but  that 
all  being  is  necessary  1  That  God  is  all  things,  and  so 
that  every  thing  is  God ;  that  we  hereby  confoimd  the  be- 
ing of  a  man,  yea,  of  a  stone,  or  whatever  we  can  think 
of,  with  one  another,  and  all  with  the  being  of  God. 

And  again,  how  is  it  possible  there  should  be  an  infinite 
self-subsisting  being?  For  then  how  can  there  be  any 
finite,  since  such  infinite  being  includes  all  being,  and 
there  can  be  nothing  beyond  all  1 

Here  therefore  it  is  requisite,  having  hitherto  only  as- 
serted, and  endeavoured  to  evince  that,  some  way,  neces- 
sary being  doth  include  all  being,  to  show  in  what  way. 
And  it  is  plain  it  doth  not  include  all,  in  the  same  way. 
It  doth  not  so  include  that  which  is  created  by  it,  arid 
depends  on  it,  as  it  doth  its  own,  which  is  uncreated  and 
independent. 

The  one  it  includes  as  its  own,  or  rather  as  itself;  tn* 
other,  as  what  it  is,  and  ever  was,  within  its  power  to  pro- 
duce. If  any  better  like  the  terms  fo)malhj  and  virtually, 
they  nviy  serve  themselves  of  them  at  their  own  pleasure, 
which  yet,  as  to  many,  will  but  more  darkly  speak  the 
same  sense. 

AVe  must  here  know,  the  productive  power  of  God  ter- 
minates not  upon  himself  as  if  he  were,  by  it,  capable  of 
adding  any  thing  to  his  own  appropriate  being,  which  is 
(as  hath  been  evinced  already)  infinitely  full,  and  incapa- 
ble of  addition,  and  is  therefore  all  pure  act ;  but  on  the 
creature,  where  there  is  still  a  perpetual  possibility,  never 
filled  up  ;  because  divine  power  can  never  be  exhausted. 
And  thus  all  that  of  being  is  virtually  in  him,  which,  either 
having  produced,  he  doth  totally  sustain,  or  not  being  pro- 
duced, he  can  produce. 

Whereupon  it  is  easy  to  understand,  how  necessary 
being  may  comprehend  all  being,  and  yet  all  being  not  be 
necessary.  It  comprehends  all  being,  besides  what  itself 
is,  as  having  had,  within  the  compass  of  its  productive 
p<^)\ver,  whatsoever  hath  actually  sprung  from  it,  and  having 
within  tlie  conipa,ss  of  the  same  power,  whatsoever  is  still 
possible  to  be  produced.  Which  no  more  confounds  such 
produced  or  producible  being  with  that  necessary  being 
which  is  its  cause,  than  it  confounds  all  the  effects  of  hu- 
man poM-er  with  one  another,  and  with  the  being  of  a  man, 
to  say,  that  he  virtually  comprehended  them  (so  far  as  they 


I  Now  Bishop  of  Clogtier,  in  liis  Contemplat   Metaphva.  tiolhing  added  to  it  ;  vet  it  is  without  dispute,  that  whatsoever  is  so  full  as  that 

K  For  ha\vsoevcr  Qi.<putablo  it  may  be,  wheinar  wliataoevcr  is  uifiiiite  can  have     iiotlung  can  be  uildcd  to  it,  is  iufmile. 


36 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  I, 


were  producible  by  him)  wilhin  his  power.  And  it  is  no 
wiser  an  inference  from  the  former,  than  it  would  be  from 
this  latter,  that  a  house,  a  book,  and  a  child,  are  the  same 
thing  with  one  another,  and  with  the  person  that  produced 
them ;  because,  so  far  as  they  were  produced  by  him,  he 
had  it  in  his  power  to  produce  them.  And  that  the  effects 
of  divine  power  are  produced  thereby  ti'tally ,  whereas  tho.se 
of  human  power  are  produced  by  it  but  in  part  only,  doth, 
as  to  the  strength  and  reasonableness  of  the  argument, 
nothing  alter  tlie  case. 

And  as  to  the  next,  That  infinite  being  should  seem  to 
exclude  all  finite  ;  I  confess  that  such  as  are  so  disposed, 
might  here  even  wrangle  continually,  as  they  might  do 
about  any  thing  in  which  infiniteness  is  concerned ;  and 
yet  therein  show  themselves  (as  Seneca  I  remember  speaks 
in  another  case)  not  a  wit  the  more  learned,  but  the  more 
troublesome.  But  if  one  would  make  short  work  of  it,  and 
barelv  deny  that  infinite  being  excludes  finite,  (as  Scotus 
doth  little  else  ;i  besides  denying  the  consequence  of  the 
argument,  by  which  it  was  before  enforced,  viz.  [that  an 
infinite  body  would  exclude  a  finite  ;  for  where  should  the 
finite  be,  when  the  infinite  should  fill  up  all  space  1  And 
therefore  by  parity  of  reason,  why  should  not  infinite  being 
exclude  finite  ?]  showing  the  disparity  of  the  two  cases,)  it 
would  perhaps  give  them  some  trouble  also  to  prove  it. 
For  which  way  would  they  go  to  work "?  Infinite  self-sub- 
sisting being  includes  all  being,  very  true  ;  and  therefore, 
we  say,  it  includes  finite.  And  what  then  ?  Doth  it,  be- 
cause it  includes  it,  therefore  exclude  it  7  And  let  the 
matter  be  soberly  considered ;  somewhat  of  finite  being 
and  power,  we  say,  (and  apprehend  no  knot  or  difficulty 
in  the  matter,)  can  extend  so  far  as  to  produce  some  pro- 
portionable effect,  or  can  do  such  and  such  things.  And 
what,  doth  it  seem  likely  then,  that  infinite  being  and 
power  can  therefore  do  just  nothing  1  Is  it  not  a  reason 
of  mighty  force,  and  confoundingly  demonstrative,  that  an 
agent  can  do  nothing,  or  cannot" possibly  produce  any  the 
least  thing,  only  because  he  is  of  infinite  power  1 

For  if  there  be  a  simple  inconsistency  between  an  infinite 
being  and  a  finite,  that  will  be  the  case  ;  that,  because  the 
former  is  infinite,  therefore  it  can  produce  nothing.  For 
what  it  should  produce  cannot  consist  with  it,  i.  e.  even 
not  being  finite ;  and  then  certainly  if  we  could  suppose 
the  effect  infinite,  much  less.  But  what,  therefore,  is  power 
the  less  for  being  infinite  1  or  can  infinite  power,  even  be- 
cause it  is  infinite,  do  nothing "?  What  can  be  said  or 
thought  more  absurd,  or  void  of  sense?  Or  shall  it  be 
said  that  the  infiniteness  of  power  is  no  hinderance,  but  the 
infiniteness  of  being  1  But  how  wild  an  imagination  were 
that  of  a  finite  being,  that  were  of  infinite  power  !  And 
besides,  is  that  power  somewhat,  or  nothing  1  Surely  it 
will  not  be  said  it  is  nothing.  Then  it  is  some  being ; 
and  if  some  power  be  some  being,  what  then  is  infinite 
power"?  is  not  that  infinite  being  1  '  And  now,  therefore,  if 
this  infinite  can  produce  ajiy  thing,  which  it  were  a  strange 
madness  to  deny,  it  can  at  least  produce  some  finite  thing. 
Wherefore  there  is  no  inconsistency  between  the  infinite 
and  finite  beings,  unless  we  say  the'  effect  produced,  even 
by  being  produced,  must  destroy,  or  even  infinitely  impair, 
its  cause,  so  as  to  make  it  cease  at  least  to  be  infinite. 
But  that  also  cannot  possibly  be  said  of  that  which  is  infi- 
nite and  necessary ;  which,  as  hath  been  showoi,  cannot, 
by  whatsoever  productions,  suffer  any  diminution  or  decay. 
If  here  it  be  further  urged,  But  here  is  an  infinite  being 
now  supposed  ;  let,  next,  be  supposed  the  prodtiction  of  a 
finite  :  this  is  not  the  same  with  the  other  ;  for  surely  in- 
finite, and  finite,  are  distins^uishable  enough,  and  do  even 
infinitely  differ.  The  finite  is  either  something  or  nothing  : 
nothing  it  cannot  be  said;  for  it  was  supposed  a  being, 
and  produced;  but  the  production  of  nothing  is  no  pro- 
duction. It  is  somewhat  then;  here  is  therefore  an  infi- 
nite being,  and  a  finite  now  besides.  The  infinite,  it  was 
said,  cannot  be  dimmished  ;  the  finite,  a  real  something,  is 
added.  Is  there  therefore  nothing  more  of  existent  being 
than  there  was  before  this  production  ?  It  is  answered, 
Nothing  more  than  virtually  was  before  ;  for  when  we 
suppose  an  infinite  being,  and  afterwards  a  finite;  this 

1  nistinct.  2  Q  2.  Q.  1. 

ni  And  we  imHt  oiipi)o«e  Jiommvliat  aijrppalilo  t )  ftii^.  to  he  Plo'inis's  mpan- 
ing,  when  i<e  denies  kiiowledgc  to  be  in  God,  and  jet  also  denies  tliat  there  Ls 


finite  is  not  to  be  looked  upon  as  emerging  or  springing  up 
of  itself  out  of  nothing,  or  as  proceeding  from  some  third 
thing  as  its  cause,  but  as  produced  by  that  infinite,  or 
springing  out  of  that,  which  it  could  not  do,  but  as  being 
before  virtually  contained  in  it.  For  the  infinite  produces 
nothing,  which  it  could  not  produce.  And  what  it  could 
produce,  was  before  contained  in  it,  as  in  the  power  of  its 
cause.  And  to  any  one  that  attends,  and  is  not  disposed 
to  be  quarrelsome,  this  is  as  plain  and  easy  to  be  under- 
stood, as  how  anj'  finite  thing  may  produce  another,  or 
rather,  more  plain  and  easy,  because  a  finite  agent  doth 
not  entirely  contain  its  efl'ect  within  itself,  or  in  its  own 
power,  as  an  infinite  doth.  If  yet  it  be  again  said,  that 
which  is  limited  is  not  infinite,  but  suppose  any  finite  thing 
produced  into  being  after  a  pre-existent  infinite,  this  infi- 
nite becomes  now  limited  ;  lor  the  being  of  the  finite  is  not 
that  of  the  infinite,  each  hath  its  own  distinct  being.  And 
it  cannot  be  said  of  the  one,  it  is  the  other;  therefore  each 
is  limited  to  itself  I  answer  ;  that  -vhich  was  infinite  be- 
comes not  hereby  less  than  it  was ,  for  it  hath  produced 
nothing  but  what  was  before  virtually  contained  in  it,  and 
still  is,  for  it  still  totally  sustains  the  other. — But  whatso- 
ever it  actually  doth,  it  can  do,  or  hath  within  its  power: 
therefore  if  it  were  infinite  before,  and  is  not  now  become 
less,  it  is  still  infinite. 

Wherefore  the  true  reason  why  the  position  of  a  finite 
thing  after  a  supposed  all-comprehending  infinite,  doth  no 
way  intrench  upon  or  detract  from  the  other's  all-compre- 
hensive infinity,  is,  that  it  was  formerly  contained,  and  still 
is,  within  the  virtue  and  power  of  the  other. 

It  is  true,  that  if  we  should  suppose  any  thing  besides 
that  supposed  infinite  to  be  of  itself,  that  would  infer  a 
limitation  of  the  former.  Infer  I  say,  not  cause  it ;  that  is, 
it  would  not  make  it  cease  to  be  all-comprehendingly  infi- 
nite, but  it  would  argue  it  not  to  have  been  so  before  ;  and 
that  the  supposition  of  its  infinity  was  a  false  supposition, 
because  it  would  then  appear  that  the  former  did  not  com- 
prehend all  being  any  way  in  itself.  Somewhat  being 
now  found  to  be  in  being,  which  hath  no  dependence 
thereon  ;  whence  it  would  be  evident  neither  can  be  so. 
Of  which,  some  good  use  may  be  made  to  a  further  pur- 
pose by  and  by. 

Here  only  we  may  by  the  way  annex,  as  a  ju.st  corolla- 
ry, from  the  foregoing  discourse,  that  as  the  supposition  of 
necessary  self-subsisting  matter  was  before  shown  to  be  a 
rai7i,  it  now  also  appears  plainl)^  to  be  altogether  an  impos- 
sible, supposition.  For  since  the  necessary  self-subsisting 
being  is  infinite  and  all-comprehensive  ;  and  if  matter 
were  supposed  necessary,  we  must  have  another  necessary 
being  to  form  the  world,  inasmuch  as  matter  is  not  self- 
active,  much  less  intelligent,  as  it  hath  both  been  proved  it 
cannot  be,  and  that  the  Former  of  this  world  must  be.  It 
is  therefore  out  of  question,  that  because  both  cannot  be 
all-comprehensive,  they  cannot  both  be  necessary.  Nor 
can  the  vastly  different  kinds  or  natures  of  these  things 
salve  the  business;  for  be  they  of  what  kinds  they  will, 
they  are  still  beings.  Besides,  if  matter  were  necessary 
and  self-subsisting,  every  particle  of  it  must  be  so.  And 
then  we  shall  have  not  only  two,  but  an  infinite  number  of 
such  infinities,  and  all  of  the  same  kind.  But  being,  only 
of  this  or  that  sort,  (as  is  apparent  where  more  sorts  do 
exist  than  one,)  could  not  he  simply  infinite,  except  as  the 
other  depends  thereon  ;  and  as  this  one  is  radically  com- 
prehensive of  all  the  rest,  that  can  come  under  the  general 
and  most  common  notion  of  being.  For  that  there  is  some 
general  notion  wherein  all  being  agrees,  and  by  which  it 
differs  from  no  being,  is,  I  think,  little  to  be  doubted  ;  how 
unequally  soever,  and  dependently  the  one  upon  the  other, 
the  distinct  sorts  do  partake  therein.  Whereupon  the  ex- 
pression, super-essential,  and  others  like  it,  spoken  of  God, 
must  be  imderstood  as  rhetorical  strains,  importing  more 
reverence  than  rigid  truth.  Except  by  essence,  as  was  for- 
merly said,  only  that  which  is  created  be  meant.  And  that 
only  a  purer  and  more  noble  kind  of  essence  were  intended 
to  be  asserted  to  him,™  which  yet  seems  also  unwarrantable 
and  injurious,  that  a  word  of  that  import  should  be  so 
misapplied  and  transferred  from  the  substance,  to  signify 

ill  him  any  ienorance  ;  that  is,  that  he  means  his  intelligence  is  of  an  infinitely 
disiinct  &nA  more  excellent  sort  from  that  which  he  causes  in  wa.  as  appears  by 
liis  aniie.\eJ  reason,  ro  Jt  -ai'T<jiv  aiTiov,  ovitvtTi-vtm.ii'Oiv,  Enn.6.1.  9.c.6. 


Ciup.  V. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


37 


nothing  but  the  shadow,  rather,  of  being.  And  that  they 
who  would  seem  zealously  concerned  to  appropriate  all 
being  unto  God,  should,  in  the  height  of  their  transport, 
so  far  forget  themselves  as  to  set  him  above  all  being,  and 
so  deny  him  any  at  all.  For  surely  that  which  simply  is 
above  all  being  is  no  being. 

X.  And  as  to  the  imity,  or  onliness  rather,  of  this  being, 
or  of  the  God-head,  the  deduction  thereof  seems  plain  and 
easy  from  what  hath  been  already  prov^ed  ;  that  is,  from 
the  absolute  perfection  thereof  For  though  some  do  toil 
themselves  much  about  this  matter,  and  others  plainly 
conclude  that  it  is  not  to  he  proved  at  all  in  a  rational  way, 
but  only  by  divine  revelation  ;  yet  I  conceive,  they  that 
follow  the  method  (having  proved  some  necessary  self-sub- 
sisting being  the  root  and  original  spring  of  all  being  and 
perfection,  actual  and  possible,  which  is  as  plain  as  any 
thing  can  be)  of  deducing  from  thence  the  absolute,  all- 
comprehending  perfection  of  such  necessary  being,  will 
find  theirwork  as  good  as  done.  For  nothing  seems  more 
evident,  than  that  there  cannot  be  two  (much  less  more) 
such  beings,  inasmuch  as  one  comprehends  in  itself  all  being 
and  perfection;  for  there  can  be  but  one  all,  without  which 
is  nothing.  So  that,  one  such  being  supposed,  another  can 
have  nothing  remaining  to  it.  Yea,  so  far  is  it  therefore, 
if  we  suppose  one  infinite  and  absolutely  perfect  being, 
that  there  can  be  another,  independent  thereon,  (and  of  a 
depending  infinity,  we  need  not  say  more  than  we  have, 
which  if  any  such  could  be,  cannot  possibly  be  a  distinct 
God,)  that  there  cannot  be  the  minutest  finite  thing  ima- 
ginable, which  that  supposed  infinity  doth  not  comprehend, 
or  that  can  stand  apart  from  it,  on  any  distinct  basis  of  its 
own.  And  that  this  matter  may  be  left  as  plain  as  we  can 
make  it;  supposing  it  already  most  evident.  That  there  is, 
actually  existing,  an  absolute,  entire  fulness  of  wisdom, 
power,  and  so  of  all  other  perfection — That  such  absolute 
entire  fulness  of  perfection  is  infmite — That  this  infinite 
perfection  must  have  its  primary  seat  somewhere — That 
its  primary,  original  seat  can  be  nowhere,  but  in  necessary 
self-subsisting  being.  We  hereupon  add,  that  if  we  sup- 
pose multitude,  or  any  plurality  of  necessary  self-originate 
beings,  concurring  to  make  up  the  seat  or  subject  of  this' 
infinite  perfection  ;  each  one  must  either  be  of  finite  and 
partial  perfection,  or  infinite  and  absolute.  Infinite  and 
absolute  it  cannot  be,  because  one  self-originate,  infinitely 
and  absolutely  perfect  being,  will  necessarily  comprehend 
all  perfection,  and  leave  nothing  to  the  rest.  Nor  finite, 
because  many  finites  can  never  make  one  infinite  ;  much 
less  can  many  broken  parcels  or  fragments  of  perfection 
ever  make  infinite  and  absolute  perfection  ;  even  though 
their  number,  if  that  were  possible,  were  infinite.  For  the 
perfection  of  unity  would  still  be  wanting,  and  their  com- 
munication and  concurrence  to  any  work  (even  such  as 
we  see  is  done)  be  infinitely  imperfect  and  impossible. 

We  might,  more  at  large,  and  with  a  much  more  pomp- 
ous number  and  apparatus  of  arguments,  have  shown  that 
there  can  be  no  more  gods  than  one.  But  to  such  as  had 
rather  be  informed,  than  bewildered  and  lost,  clear  proof  that 
is  shorter,  and  more  comprehensive,  will  be  more  grateful. 

Nor  doth  this  proof  of  the  unity  of  the  God-head  any 
way  impugn  the  trinity,  which  is  by  Christians  believed, 
therein,  (and  whereof  some  heathens,  as  is  known,  have 
not  been  wholly  without  some  apprehension,  however  they 
came  by  it,)  or  exclude  a  sufficient,  uncreated  groimd  of 
trinal  distinction.  As  would  be  seen,  if  that  great  differ- 
ence of  beings,  necessary  and  contingent,  be  well  stated, 
and  what  is  by  eternal,  necessary  emanation  of  the  divine 
r^ature,  be  duly  distinguished  from  the  arbitrary  products 
of  the  divine  will ;  and  the  matter  be  thoroughly  examined, 
whether  herein  be  not  a  sufficient  distinction  of  that  which 
is  increated,  and  that  which  is  created.  In  this  way  it  is 
possible  it  might  be  cleared,  how  a  trinity  in  the  God- 
head may  be  very  consistently  with  the  unity  thereof.  But 
that  it  is,  we  cannot  know,  but  b)^  his  telling  us  so.  It 
being  among  the  many  things  of  God,  which  are  not  to  be 
known,  but  by  the  Spirit  of  God  revealing  and  testifying 
them,  in  and  according'  to  the  Holy  Scriptures :  as  the 
things  of  a  man  are  not  kno-«Ti  but  by  the  spirit  of  a  man. 
And  what  further  evidence  we  may  justly  and  reasonably 
take  from  those  Scriptures,  even  in  reference  to  some  of 
the  things  hitherto  discoursed,  mav  be  hereafter  shown. 


CHAPTER  V. 

Demands  in  reference  to  wtiat  hatli  been  hitherto  discoursed,  with  some  rea- 
sonings thereupon:  l,  is  it  possible  that,  ujton  6upi)osition  of /A«  beings 
custence,  it  may  lie,  in  any  way  suitable  to  our  present  state,  made  kjiowu 
to  us  that  it  doth  e.xist?  Proved,  1.  That  it  may.  «.  That,  since  any  other 
fit  way  that  can  Ik;  thouglit  on  is  as  much  liable  to  exception  as  that  we  liave 
already,  ttiis  must  l)e,  therefore,  sufficient.  Stroni?  impressions.  Glorious 
api)aritions.  Terrible  voices.  6uriiri>ir]p  translumialion.  If  these  are  ne- 
cessar)',  is  it  needfid  they  be  universal?  frequent?  If  not,  more  rare  thinga 
of  tliis  sort  not  wanting,  'i.  Demand.  Can  subject.^,  remote  from  their  prince, 
sufficiently  be  assiucd  of  liis  e.xistfcnce?  3.  Demand.  Can  we  be  sure  there 
are  men  on  earth  3 

I.  And  if  any  should  in  the  meantime  still  remain  either 
doubtful,  or  apt  to  cavil,  after  all  that  hath  been  said  for 
proof  of  that  bcirig's  existence  which  we  have  described, 
I  would  only  add  these  few  things,  by  way  of  inquir}-  or 
demand:  viz. 

First,  Do  they  believe,  upon  supposition  of  the  exist- 
ence of  such  a  Being,  that  it  is  possible  it  may  be  made 
knowTi  to  us,  in  our  present  state  and  circumstances,  by 
means  not  unsuitable  thereto,  or  inconvenient  to  the  order 
and  government  of  the  world,  that  it  doth  exist"?  It  were 
strange  to  say  or  suppose,  that  a  Being  of  so  high  perfec- 
tion as  this  we  have  hitherto  given  an  accoimt  of,  if  he  is, 
cannot  in  any  fit  way  make  it  known  that  he  is,  to  an  in- 
telligent and  apprehensive  sort  of  creatures. 

If  indeed  he  is,  and  be  the  common  Cause,  Author, 
and  Lord  of  us  and  all  things,  (which  we  do  now  but  sup- 
pose: and  we  may  defy  cavil  to  allege  any  thing  that  is 
so  much  as  colourable  against  the  possibility  of  the  sup- 
position,) surely  he  hath  done  greater  things  than  the  mak- 
ing of  it  known  that  he  is.  It  is  no  unapprehensible  thing. 
There  hath  been  no  inconsistent  notion  hitherto  given  of 
him;  nothing  said  concerning  him,  but  will  well  admit 
that  it  is  possible  such  a  Being  may  be  now  existent. 
Yea,  we  not  only  can  conceive,  but  we  actually  have,  and 
cannot  but  have,  some  conception  of  the  several  attributes 
we  have  ascribed  to  him:  so  as  to  apply  them,  severally, 
to  somewhat  else,  if  we  will  not  apply  them,  jointly,  to 
him.  We  cannot  but  admit  there  is  some  eternal,  neces- 
sary being;  somewhat  that  is  of  it.self  active;  somewhat 
that  is  powerful,  wise,  and  good.  And  these  notions  have 
in  them  no  repugnancy  to  one  another;  wherefore  it  is  not 
impossible  they  may  meet,  and  agree  together,  in  full  per- 
fection to  one  and  the  same  existent  beinsf.  And  hence  it 
is  manifestly  no  unapprehensible  thing,  that  such  a  Being 
doth  exist.  Now  supposing  that  it  doth  exist,  and  hath 
been  to  us  the  Cau.se  and  Author  of  our  being;  hath  given 
us  the  reasonable,  intelligent  nature  which  we  find  our- 
selves possessors  of;  and  that  very  power  whereby  we 
apprehend  the  existence  of  such  a  Being  as  he  is  to  be  pos- 
sible, (all  which  we  for  the  present  do  still  but  suppose,) 
while  also  his  actual  existence  is  not  unapprehensible; 
were  it  not  the  greatest  madness  imaginable  to  say,  that 
if  he  do  exist,  he  cannot  also  make  our  apprehensive  nature 
understand  this  apprehensible  thing  that  he  doth  exist  1 
We  will  therefore  take  it  for  granted,  and  as  a  thing  which 
no  man  well  in  his  wits  will  deny,  that  upon  supposition 
such  a  Being,  the  Cause  and  Author  of  all  things,  do 
exist,  he  might,  in  some  convenient  way  or  other,  with 
sufficient  evidence,  make  it  known  to  such  creatures  as  we, 
so  as  to  beget  in  us  a  rational  certainty  that  he  doth  exist. 

Upon  which  presumed  ground  we  will  only  reason  thus, 
or  assume  to  it ;  That  there  is  no  possible  and  fit  way  of 
doing  it  which  is  not  liable  to  as  much  exception  as  the 
evidence  we  already  have.  Whence  it  will  be  consequent, 
that  if  the  thing  be  possible  to  be  fitly  done,  it  is  done 
already.  That  is,  that  if  we  can  apprehend  how  it  may  he 
possible  such  a  iBeing,  actually  existent,  might  give  us 
that  evidence  of  his  existence  that  should  be  suitable  to 
our  present  state,  and  suflicient  to  oiU-weigh  all  objections 
to  the  contrary;  (without  which  it  were  not  rationally  suf- 
ficient;) and  that  we  can  apprehend  no  possible  way  of 
doing  this,  which  will  not  be  liable  to  the  same,  or  equal 
objections,  as  mav  be  made  against  the  present  means  we 
have  for  the  begetting  of  this  certainty  in  us,  then  we 
have  already  sufficient  evidence  of  this  Being's  existence. 
That  is,  such  as  ought  to  prevail  against  all  objections, 
and  obtain  our  assent  that  it  doth  exist. 

Here  it  is  only  needful  to  be  considered  what  ways  can 


2085': 


38 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  1. 


be  thoTiglit  of,  which  we  will  say  might  assure  us  in  this 
matter,  that  we  already  have  not.  And  what  might  be 
objected  agamst  them,  equally,  as  against  the  means  we 
now  have. 

II.  Will  we  say  such  a  Being,  if  he  did  actually  exist, 
might  ascertain  us  of  his  existence,  by  some  fowerful  iin- 
pression  of  that  truth  upon  our  minds?  We  will  not  insist 
what  there  is  of  this  already.  Let  them  consider,who  gainsay 
what  they  can  find  of  it  in  their  own  minds;  and  whether 
they  are  not  engaged  by  their  atheistical  inclinations  in  a 
contention  against  themselves,  and  their  more  natural  sen- 
timents, from  which  they  find  it  a  matter  of  no  .small  dif- 
ficulty to  be  delivered"?  It  was  not  for  nothing,  that  even 
Epicurus  himself  calls  this  of  an  existing  deity,  a  prolep- 
fical  notion.  But  you  may  say,  the  impression  might  have 
been  simply  rmiversal,  and  so  irresistible  as  to  prevent  or 
overbear  all  doubt,  or  inclination  to  doubt. 

And,  first,  for  the  universality  of  it,  why  may  we  not 
suppose  it  already  sufficiently  universal  7  as  hath  been 
heretofore  alleged.  With  what  confidence  can  the  few 
dissenting  atheists,  that  have  professed  to  be  of  another 
persuasion,  put  that  value  upon  themselves,  as  to  reckon 
their  dissent  considerable  enough  to  implead  the  univer- 
sality of  this  impression  1  Or  what  doth  it  signify  more  to 
that  purpose,  than  some  few  instances  may  do,  of  persons 
so  stupidly  foolish,  as  to  give  much  less  discovery  of  any 
rational  faculty  than  some  beasts,  to  the  impugning  the 
universal  rationality  of  mankind  1 

Besides  that,  your  contrary  profession  is  no  sufficient 
argument  of  your  contrary  persuasion,  much  less,  that  you 
never  had  any  stamp  or  impression  of  a  Deity  upon  your 
minds,  or  that  you  have  quite  rased  it  out.  It  is  much  to 
be  suspected  thai  you  hold  not  your  contrary  persuasion 
with  that  unshaken  confidence,  and  freedom  from  all  fear- 
ful and  suspicious  misgivings,  as  that  you  have  much  more 
reason  to  brag  of  your  disbelief  for  the  strength,  than  you 
have  for  the  goodness,  of  it.  And  that  you  have  those 
qualmish  fits,  which  bewray  the  impression,  (at  least  to 
your  own  notice  and  reflection,  if  you  would  but  allow 
yourselves  the  liberty  of  so  much  converse  with  your- 
selves,) that  you  will  not  confess,  and  yet  cannot  utterly 
deface.  But  if  in  this  you  had  quite  won  the  day,  and 
were  masters  of  your  design,  were  it  not  prettv  to  suppose 
that  the  common  consent  of  mankind  would  be  a  good 
argument  of  the  existence  of  a  Deity,  except  only  that  it 
wants  your  concurrence!  If  it  were". so  universal  as  to  in- 
clude your  vote  and  suffrage,  it  would  then  be  a  firm  and 
solid  argument;  (as  no  doubt  it  is,  without  you,  a  stronger 
one  than  you  can  answer;)  but  when  you  have  made  a 
hard  shift  to  withdraw  your  assent,  you  have  undone  the 
Deity,  and  religion !  Doth  this  cause  stand  and  fall  with 
you,  unto  which  you  can  contribute  about  as  much  as 
the  fly  to  the  triumph"?  Was  that  true  before,  which  now 
j^our  hard-laboured  dissent  hath  made  false"?  But  if  this 
impression  were  simply  universal,  so  as  also  to  include 
you,  it  matters  not  wha't  men  would  say  or  object  against 
it;  (it  is  to  be  supposed  thev  would  be  in  no  disposition 
to  object  any  thing;)  but  what  were  to  be  said,  or  what 
the  case  itself,  objectively  considered,  would  admit.  And 
though  it  would  not  (as  now  it  doth  not)  admit  of  any 
thing  to  be  said  to  any  purpose,  yet  the  same  thing  were 
still  to  be  said,  that  you  now  say.  And  if  we  shoiild  but 
again  unsuppose  so  much  of  the  former  supposition,  as  to 
imagine  that  some  few  should  ha  ve  made  their  escape,  and 
disburthened  themselves  of  all  apprehensions  of  God, 
would  they  not,  with  the  same  impudence  as  you  now  do, 
say  that  all  religion  were  nothing  else  but  ehthusiastical 
fanaticism;  and  that  all  mankind,  besides  themselves, 
were  enslaved  fools  1 

And  for  the  mere  irresistibleness  of  this  impression ;  it 
is  true,  it  would  take  away  all  disposition  to  oppose,  but 
it  may  be  presumed  this  is  none  of  the  rational  evidence 
which  we  suppose  you  to  mean ;  when  you  admit  (if  you 
do  admit)  that,  some  way  or  other,  the  existence  of  such 
a  being  might  be  possibly  made  so  evident,  as  to  induce  a 
rational  certainty  thereof  For  to  believe  such  a  thing  to 
be  true  only  upon  a  strong  impulse,  (how  certain  soever 
the  thing  be,)  is  not  to  assent  to  it  upon  a  foregoing  reason. 
Nor  can  any,  in  that  case,  tell  why  thev  believe  it,  hxitthat 
they  believe  it.    You  will  not  sure  think  any  thing  the 


truer  for  this,  only,  that  such  and  such  believe  it  with  a 
sturdy  confidence.  It  is  true,  that  the  universality  and 
naturalness  of  such  a  persuasion,  as  pointing  us  to  a  com- 
mon cause  thereof,  affords  the  matter  of  an  argument,  or 
is  a  medium  not  contemptible  nor  capable  of  answer,  as 
hath  been  said  before.  But  to  be  irresistibly  captivated 
into  an  assent,  is  no  medium  at  all;  but  an  immediate 
per.suasion  of  the  thing  itself,  without  a  reason. 

III.  Therefore  must  it  yet  be  demanded  of  atheistical 
persons,  what  means,  that  you  yet  have  not,  would  you 
think  sufficient  to  put  this  matter  out  of  doubt  1  Will  you 
say,  some  kind  of  very  glorious  apparitions,  becoming  the 
majesty  of  such  a  one  as  this  Being  is  represented,  would 
have  satisfied"?  But  if  you  know  how  to  fancy,  that  such 
a  thing  as  the  sun,  and  other  luminaries,  might  have  been 
compacted  of  a  certain  peculiar  sort  of  atoms,  coming  to- 
gether of  their  own  accord,  without  the  direction  of  a  wise 
agent;  yea,  and  consist  so  long,  and  hold  so  strangely 
regular  motions;  how  easy  would  it  be  to  object  that,  with 
much  advantage,  again'Jst  what  any  temporary  apparition, 
be  it  as  glorious  as  you  can  imagine,  might  seem  to  signify 
to  this  purpose  I 

Would  dread/id  loud  voices  proclaiming  him  to  be,  of 
whose  existence /ou  doubt,  have  served  the  turnl  It  is 
likely,  if  your  lear  would  have  permitted  you  to  use  your 
wit,  you  would  have  had  some  subtle  invention  how,  by 
some  odd  rencounter  of  angry  atoms,  the  air  or  clouds 
might  become  thus  terribly  vocal.  And  when  you  know 
already,  that  they  do  sometimes  salute  your  cars  with  very 
loud  sounds,  (as  when  it  thunders,)  there  is  little  doubt 
but  your  great  wit  can  devise  a  way  how  possibly  such 
sounds  might  become  articulate.  And  for  the  sense  and 
coherent  import  of  what  were  spoken ;  you  that  are  so 
good  at  conjecturing  how  things  might  casually  happen, 
would  not  be  long  in  making  a  guess  that  might  serve  that 
turn  also  ;  except  you  were  grown  very  dull  and  barren, 
and  that  fancy  that  served  you  to  imagine  how  the  whole 
frame  of  the  universe,  and  the  rare  structure  of  the  bodies 
of  animals,  yea,  and  even  the  reasonable  soul  itself, might 
be  all  casual  productions,  cannot  now  devise  how,  by 
chance,  a  few  words  (for  you  do  not  say  you  expect  long 
orations)  might  fall  out  to  be  sense  though  there  were  no 
intelligent  speaker. 

But  would  strange  and  wonderful  effects  that  might  sur- 
prise and  amaze  you  do  the  business "?  We  may  challenge 
you  to  try  your  faculty,  and  stretch  it  to  the  uttermost ; 
and  then  tell  us  what  imagination  you  have  formed  of  any 
thing  more  strange  and  wonderful,  than  the  already  extant 
frame  of  nature,  in  the  whole,  and  the  several  parts  of  it. 
Will  he  that  hath  awhile  considered  the  composition  of  the 
world ;  the  exact  and  orderly  motions  of  the  stm,  moon, 
and  stars;  the  fabric  of  his  own  body,  and  the  powers  of 
his  soul,  expect  yet  a  wonder,  to  prove  to  him  there  is  a 
God "?  But  if  that  be  the  complexion  of  your  minds,  that 
it  is  not  the  greatness  of  any  work,  but  the  novelty  and 
surprisingriess  of  it,  that  will  convince  you,  it  is  not  ra- 
tional evidence  you  seek:  nor  is  it  your  reason,  but  your 
idle  curiosity,  you  would  have  gratified;  which  deserves 
no  more  satisfaction  than  that  fond  wish,  that  one  might 
come  from  the  dead  to  warn  men  on  earth,  lest  they  should 
come  into  the  place  of  torment. 

And  if  such  means  as  these  that  have  been  mentioned 
should  be  thought  necessary,  I  would  ask.  Are  they  ne- 
cessarj''  to  every  individual  person,  so  as  that  no  man  shall 
be  esteemed  to  have  had  sufficient  means  of  conviction, 
who  hath  not  with  his  own  eyes  beheld  some  such  glorious 
apparition  ;  or  himself  heard  some  such  terrible  voice  ;  or 
been  the  immediate  witness  or  subject  of  some  prodigious 
wonderful  work?  Or  will  the  once  seeing,  hearing,  or  feel- 
ing them  suflice?  It  is  not  necessary  there  .should  be  a 
frequent  repetition  and  renewal  of  these  amazing  things, 
lest  the  impression  wearing  off,  there  be  a  relapse,  and  a 
gradual  sliding  into  an  oblivion,  and  unapprehensiveness 
of  that  Being's  existence,  whereof  they  had,  sometime, 
received  a  conviction.  Now  if  such  a  continual  iteration 
of  these  strange  things  were  thought  necessary,  would  they 
not  hereby  soon  cease  to  be  strange "?  And  then  if  their 
strangeness  was  necessary,  by  that  very  thing,  wherein 
their  sufficiency  for  conviction  is  said  to  consist,  they 
should  become  useless.    Or  if  by  their  frequent  variations 


Chap.  V. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


39 


(which  it  is  possible  to  suppose)  a  perpetual  amusement 
be  still  kept  up  in  the  minds  of  men,  and  they  be  always 
full  of  consternation  and  wonder,  doth  this  temper  so  much 
befriend  the  exercise  of  reason,  or  contribute  to  the  sober 
consideration  of  things?  As  if  men  could  not  be  rational, 
without  being  half  mad !  And  indeed  they  might  soon 
become  altogether  so,  by  being  but  awhile  beset  with 
objects  so  full  of  tenor,  as  are  by  this  supposition  made 
the  necessary  means  to  convince  them  of  a  Deity. ^  And 
were  this  a  iit  means  of  ruling  the  world,  of  preserving 
order  among  mankind?  What  business  could  then  be 
followed?  Who  could  attend  the  affairs  of  their  callings? 
Who  could  either  be  capable  of  governing,  or  of  being 
governed,  while  all  men's  minds  should  be  wholly  taken 
up,  either  in  the  amazed  view  or  the  suspenseful  expec- 
tation, of  nought  else  but  strange  things?  To  which  pur- 
pose much  hath  been  of  late,  with  so  excellent  reason, 
discoursed  by  a  noted  author, b  that  it  is  needless  here  to 
say  more.  And  the  aspect  and  influence  of  this  state  of 
things  would  be  most  pernicious  upon  religion,  that  should 
be  most  served  thereby,  and  which  requires  the  greatest 
severity  and  most  peaceful  composure  of  mind  to  the  due 
managing  the  exercises  of  it.  How  little  would  that  con- 
tribute to  pious  and  devout  converses  with  God,  that 
should  certainly  keep  men's  minds  in  a  continual  com- 
motion and  hurry !  This  course,  as  our  present  condition 
is,  what  could  it  do  but  craze  men's  understandings,  as  a 
too  bright  and  dazzling  light  causeth  blindness,  or  any 
over-excelling  sensible  object  destroys  the  sense ;  so  that 
we  should  soon  have  cause  to  apply  the  Erpen.  proverb, 
"  Shut  the  windows  that  the  house  may  be  light."  And 
might  learn  to  put  a  sense,  not  intolerable,  upon  those 
passages  of  some  mystical  writers,'^  that  God  is  to  be  seen, 
— in  a  divine  cloud  or  darkiiess,  as  one;(i  and  with  closed 
eyes'"  as  another,  speaks;  though  what  was  their  very  sense 
I  will  not  pretend  to  tell. 

Besides  that,  by  this  means,  there  would  naturally  ensue 
the  continual  excitation  of  so  vexatious  and  enthralling 
passions,  so  servile  and  tormenting  fears  and  amazements, 
as  could  not  but  hold  the  souls  of  men  under  a  constant 
and  comfortless  restraint  from  any  free  and  ingenuous  ac- 
cess to  God,  or  conversation  with  him;  wherein  the  very 
life  of  religion  consists.  And  then,  to  what  purpose  doth 
the  discovery  and  acknowledgment  of  the  Deity  serve  ? 
Inasmuch  as  it  is  never  to  be  thought  that  the  exist- 
ence of  God  is  a  thing  to  be  known,  only  that  it  may  be 
known;  but  that  the  end  it  serves  for,  is  religion;  a  com- 
placential  and  cheerful  adoration  of  him,  and  application 
of  ourselves  with  at  once  both  dutiful  and  pleasant  affec- 
tions towards  him.  That  were  a  strange  means  of  coming 
to  know  that  he  is,  that  should  only  tend  to  destroy  or 
hinder  the  very  end  itself  of  that  knowledge.  Wherefore 
all  this  being  considered,  it  is  likely  it  would  not  be  in- 
sisted upon  as  necessary  to  our  being  persuaded  of  God's 
existence,  that  he  should  so  multiply  strange  and  astonish- 
ing things,  as  that  every  man  might  be  a  daily,  amazed  be- 
holder and  witness  of  them. 

IV.  And  if  their  frequency  and  constant  iteration  be 
acknowledged  not  necessary,  but  shall  indeed  be  judged 
wholly  inconvenient,  more  rare  discoveries  of  him,  in  the 
very  ways  we  have  been  speaking  of,  have  not  been  want- 
ing. What  would  we  think  of  such  an  appearance  of  God 
as  that  was  upon  motmt  Sinai,  when  he  came  dowTi  (or 
caused  a  sensible  glory  to  descend)  in  the  sight  of  all  that 
great  people ;  wherein  the  several  things  concurred  that 
were  above  mentioned  ?  Let  us  but  suppose  such  an  ap- 
pearance, in  all  the  concurrent  circumstances  of  it,  as  that 
is  said  to  have  been.  That  is  we  will  suppose  an  equally 
great  assembly  or  multitude  of  people  is  gathered  together, 
and  solemn  forewarning  is  given  and  proclaimed  among 
them,  by  appointed  heralds  or  officers  of  state,  that,  on  such 
a  prefixed  day,  now  very  nigh  at  hand,  the  divine  majesty 
and  glory  (even  his  glory  set  in  majesty)  will  visibly  ap- 
pear, and  show  itself  to  them.  They  are  most  sev'erely 
enjoined  to  prepare  themselves,  and  be  in  readiness  against 
that  day.     Great  care  is  taken  to  sanctify  the  people,  and 

a  Now  were  not  that  q  most  improper  course,  and  unsuitable  to  the  na- 
ture ot  man,  that  stiould  rather  tend  to  destroy  his  reason  or  judgment,  tlian 
convince  it  ? 

b  Dr.  Spencer,  of  Prodigies.    A  discourse,  which,  though  it  disproves  not 


the  place;  bounds  are  set  about  the  designed  theatre  of 
this  great  appearance  :  all  are  strictly  required  to  observ^e 
their  due  and  awful  distances,  and  abstain  from  more  au- 
dacious approaches  and  gazings ;  lest  that  terrible  glory 
break  out  upon  them,  and  they  perish :  an  irreverent  or 
disrespectful  look,  they  are  told,  will  be  mortal  to  them, 
or  a  very  touch  of  any  part  of  this  sacred  enclosure.  In 
the  morning  of  the  appoinied  day,  there  are  thunders,  and 
lightnings,  and  a  thick  cloud  upon  the  hallowed  mount. 
The  exceeding  loud  sound  of  trumpet  proclaims  the  Lord's 
descent.  He  descends  in  fire,  the  flames  whereof  envelop 
the  trembling  mount,  (now  floored  with  a  sapphire  pave- 
ment, clear  as  the  body  of  heaven,)  and  ascend  into  the 
middle  region,  or,  as  it  is  expressed,  into  the  midst  or 
heart  of  the  heavens.  The  voice  of  words,  (a  loud  and 
dreadful  voice,)  audible  to  all  that  mighty  assembly,  in 
which  were  six  hundred  thousand  men,  (probably  more 
than  a  million  of  persons,)  issues  forth  from  amidst  that 
terrible  glory,  pronouncing:  to  them  that  I  am  Jehovah  thy 
God.  And  thence  proceeding  to  give  them  precepts  so 
plain  and  clear,  so  comprehensive  and  full,  so  unexccption- 
ably  just  and  righteous,  so  agreeable  to  the  nature  of  man, 
and  subservient  to  his  good,  that  nothing  could  be  more 
worthy  the  great  Creator,  or  more  aplly  suitable  to  such  a 
sort  of  creatures. 

It  is  very  likely,  indeed,  that  such  a  demonstration 
would  leave  no  spectator  in  doubt  concerning  the  existence 
of  God ;  and  would  puzzle  the  philosophy  of  the  most 
sceptical  atheist  to  give  an  account,  otherwise,  of  the  phe- 
nomenon. And  if  such  could  devise  to  say  any  thing  that 
should  seem  plausible  to  some  very  ea.sy  half-witted  per- 
sons, that  were  not  present,  they  would  have  a  hard  task 
of  it  to  quiet  the  minds  of  those  that  were ;  or  make  them 
believe  this  was  nothing  else  but  some  odd  conjuncture  of 
certain  fiery  atoms,  that,  by  some  strange  accident  hap- 
pened into  this  occursion  and  conflict  with  one  another; 
or  some  illusion  of  fancy,  by  which  so  great  a  multitude 
were  all  at  once  imposed  upon  ;  so  as  that  they  only  seem- 
ed to  them.selves  to  bear  and  see,  what  they  heard  and 
saw  not.  Nor  is  it  likely  they  would  be  very  confident  of 
the  truth  of  their  own  conjecture,  or  be  apt  to  venture 
much  upon  it  themselves;  having  been  the  eye  and  ear- 
witnesses  of  these  things. 

But  is  it  nccessarj- this  course  shall  be  taken  to  make 
the  world  know  there  is  a  God  ?  Such  an  appearance,  in- 
deed, would  more  powerfully  strike  sense;  but  imto  sober 
and  considerate  reason  were  it  a  greater  thing  than  the 
making  such  a  world  a.s  this,  and  the  disposing  this  great 
variety  of  particular  beings  in  it,  into  so  exact  and  elegant 
an  order ;  and  the  sustaining  and  preserving  it  in  the  same 
state,  through  so  many  ages?  Let  the  vast  and  unknown 
extent  of  the  whole,  the  admirable  variety,  the  elegant 
shapes,  tlie  regular  motions,  the  excellent  faculties  and 
powers  of  that  inconceivable  number  of  creatures  contained 
in  it,  be  considered.  And  is  there  any  comparison  between 
that  temporary,  transient,  occasional,  and  this  steady,  per- 
manent, and  universal  discover}^  of  God  ?  Nor  (supposing 
the  truth  of  the  history)  can  it  be  thought  the  design  of 
this  appearance  lo  these  Hebrews  was  to  convince  them  of 
the  existence  of  a  Deity,  to  be  worshipped ;  when  both 
thej'  had  so  convincing  evidence  thereof  many  ways  before ; 
and  the  other  nations,  that  which  they  left,  and  tho^e 
M'hither  they  went,  were  not  without  their  religion  and 
worship,  such  as  it  was :  but  to  engage  them,  by  so  ma- 
jestic a  representation  thereof,  to  a  more  exact  observance 
of  his  will,  now  made  known.  Though,  had  there  been 
any  doubt  of  the  former,  (as  we  can  hardly  suppose  they 
could  before  have  more  doubted  of  the  being  of  a  God, 
than  that  there  were  men  on  earth.)  this  might  collaterally, 
and  besides  its  chief  intention,  be  a  means  to  confirm  them 
concerning  that  also:  but  that  it  was  necessary  for  that 
end,  we  have  no  pretence  to  imagine.  The  like  may  be 
said,concerningothermiraclesheretofore  wrought,  that  the 
intent  of  them  was  to  justily  the  divine  authority  of  lym 
who  wrought  them,  to  prove  him  sent  by  God,  and  so 
countenance  the  doctrine  or  message  delivered  by  him. 

the  reality  or  tnio  sifnificancy  of  such  portents,  yet  aptly  tends  to  prevent  or 
correct  the  ill  use  of  them. 

c  D.  Areop.  1.  de  niyster.  Th«oI.  c.  1.  d  Tif  o  OCtos  yvotfios. 

e  Prod,  in  Plat.  Theol.  jtvcavras eveipvcadai  T>t  a)  yc^roji  xai  Kpxxpiut  tuv 
onTiiiV  cvadi.     ■ 


^ 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  I. 


Not  that  they  tended  (otherwise  than  on  the  by)  to  prove 
God's  existence :  much  less,  was  this  so  amazing  an  ap- 
pearance needful,  or  intended  for  that  end;  and  least  of 
all,  was  it  necessary  that  this  should  be  God's  ordinary 
way  of  making  it  known  to  men  that  he  doth  exist :  so  as 
that  for  this  purpose  he  should  often  repeat  so  terrible 
representations  of  himself.  And  how  inconvenient  it  were 
to  mortal  men,  as  well  as  unnecessary,  the  astonishment 
"wherewith  it  possessed  that  people,  is  an  evidence ;  and 
their  passionate  aifrighted  wish  thereupon,  "  Let  not  God 
any  more  speak  to  us,  lest  we  die."  They  apprehended 
ft  impossible  for  them  to  outlive  such  another  sight ! 

And  if  that  so  amazing  an  appearance  of  the  Divine 
Majesty  (sometime  affurded)  were  not  necessary,  but  some 
way,  on  the  by,  useful,  for  the  confirming  that  people  in 
the  persuasion  of  God's  existence,  why  may  it  not  be 
useful  also,  for  the  same  purpose  even  now,  to  usl  Is  it 
that  we  think  that  can  be  less  true  now,  which  was  so 
gloriously  evident  to  be  true  four  thousand  years  ago  1  Or 
is  it  that  we  can  disbelieve  or  doubt  the  truth  of  the  his- 
tory %  What  should  be  the  ground  or  pretence  of  doubt  1 
If  it  were  a  fiction,  it  is  manifest  it  was  feigned  by  some 
person  that  had  the  iLse  of  his  understanding,  and  was  not 
beside  himself,  as  the  coherence  and  contexture  of  parts 
doth  plainly  show.  But  would  any  man  not  beside  him- 
self, designing  to  gain  credit  to  a  forged  report  of  a  matter 
of  fact,  ever  say  there  were  six  hundred  thousand  persons 
present  at  the  doing  of  if?  Would  it  not  rather  have  been 
pretended  done  in  a  corner  1  Or  is  it  imaginable  it  should 
never  have  met  with  contradiction  1  That  none  of  the  pre- 
tended bystanders  should  disclaim  the  avouchment  of  it, 
ajid  say  they  Imew  of  no  such  matter  1  Especially  if  it  be 
considered  that  the  lav/s'said  to  be  given  at  that  time, 
chiefly  those  which  were  reported  to  have  been  written  in 
the  two  tables,  were  not  so  favourable  to  vicious  inclina- 
tions, nor  that  people  so  strict  and  scrupulous  observers 
ot'them^but  that  they  would  have  been  glad  to  have  had 
any  thing  to  pretend,  against  the  authority  of  the  legisla- 
ture, if  the  case  could  have  admitted  it.  When  they  dis- 
covered, in  that  and  succeeding  time,  so  violently  prone 
and  unretractable  a  propension  to  idolatry  and  other 
wickednesses,  directly  against  the  very  letter  of  that  law, 
how  welcome  and  covetable  a  plea  had  it  been,  in  their 
frequent,  and,  sometimes,  almost  universal  apostacies, 
could  they  have  had  such  a  thing  to  pretend,  that  the  law 
itself  that  curbed  them  was  a  cheat !  But  we  always 
find,  that  though  they  laboured,  in  some  of  their  degene- 
racies, and  when  they  were  lapsed  into  a  more  corrupted 
state,  to  render  it  more  easy  to  themselves  by  favour- 
able glosses  and  interpretations ;  yet,  even  in  the  most 
corrupt,  they  never  went  about  to  deny  or  implead  its 
divine  original,  whereof  they  were  ever  so  religious  as- 
sertors,  as  no  people  under  heaven  could  be  more ;  and 
the  awful  apprehension  whereof  prevailed  so  far  with  them, 
as  that  care  was  taken  (as  is  notoriously  known)  by  those 
appointed  to  that  charge,  that  the  very  letters  should  be 
numbered  of  the  sacred  writings,  lest  there  should  happen 
any  the  minutest  alteration  in  them.  Much  more  might 
be  said,  if  it  were  needfal,  for  the  evincing  the  truth  of 
this  particular  piece  of  history:  and  it's  little'to  be  doubted 
but  any  man  who,  with  sober  and  impartial  reason,  con- 
siders the  circumstances  relating  to  it;  the  easily  evidence- 
able  antiquity  of  the  records  whereof  this  a  part;  the 
certain  nearness  of  the  time  of  writing  them,  to  the  time 
when  this  thing  is  said  to  have  been  done ;  the  great  re- 
putation of  the  writer  even  among  pagans ;  the  great  mul- 
titude of  the  alleged  witnesses  and  spectators;  the  no- 
contradiction  ever  heard  of;  the  universal  consent  and 
suffrage  of  that  nation  through  all  times  to  this  day,  even 
when  their  practice  hath  been  most  contrary  to  the  laws 
then  given ;  the  secrirely  confident  and  unsuspicious  refer- 
ence of  later  pieces  of  sacred  Scripture  thereto,  (even  some 
parts  of  the  New  Testament,)  as  a  most  known  and  un- 
doubted thing;  the  long  series  and  tract  of  time  through 
which  that  people  are  said  to  have  had  extraordinary  and 
sensible  indications  of  the  divine  presence;  (which,  if  it 
nad  been  false,  could  not,  in  so  long  a  time,  but  have  been 
evicted  of  falsehood ;)  their  miraculous  and  wonderful 
cductioa  out  of  Egypt,  not  denied  by  any,  and  more  ob- 
sciu'ely  acknowledged  by  some  heathen  writers ;  their  con- 


duct through  the  wilderness,  and  settlement  in  Canaan ; 
their  constitution  and  form  of  polity,  known  for  many  ages 
to  have  been  a  theocracy;  their  usual  ways  of  consulting 
God,  upon  all  more  important  occasions : — whosoever,  I 
say,  shall  soberly  consider  these  things,  (and  many  more 
might  easily  occur  to  such  as  would  think  fit  to  let  their 
thoughts  dwell  awhile  upon  this  subject,)  will  not  only, 
from  some  of  them,  think  it  highly  improbable,  but  from 
others  of  them,  plainly  impossible,  that  the  history  of  this 
appearance  should  have  been  a  contrived  piece  of  falsehood. 
Yea,  and  though,  as  was  said,  the  view  of  such  a  thing 
with  one's  own  eyes  would  make  a  more  powerful  impres- 
sion upon  our  fancy,  or  imagination,  yet,  if  we  speak  of 
rational  evidence  (which  is  quite  another  thing)  of  ihe  truth 
of  a  matter  of  fact  that  were  of  this  astonishing  nature,  I 
should  think  it  were  as  much  (at  least  if  I  were  credibly 
told  that  so  many  hundred  thousand  persons  saw  il  at 
once)  as  if  I  had  been  the  single  unaccompanied  spectator 
of  it  myself.  Not  to  say  that  it  were  apparently,  in  some 
respect, much  greater;  could  we  but  obtain  of  ourselves 
to  distinguish  between  the  pleasing  of  our  curiosity,  and 
the  satisfyng  of  our  reason.  So  that,  upon  the  whole,  I 
see  not  why  it  may  not  be  concluded,  with  the  greatest 
confidence,  that  both  the  (supposed)  existence  of  a  Deity 
is  possible  to  be  certainly  known  to  men  on  earth,  in 
some  way  that  is  suitable  to  their  present  state;  that 
there  are  no  means  fitter  to  be  ordinary,  than  those  we 
already  have,  and  that  more  extraordinary,  additional  con- 
firmations are  partly,  therefore,  not  necessary,  and  partly 
not  wanting. 

V.  Again,  it  may  be  further  demanded,  (as  that  which 
may  both  immediately  serve  our  main  purpose,  and  may 
also  show  the  reasonableness  of  what  was  last  said,)  Is  it 
sufficiently  evident  to  such  subjects  of  some  great  prince 
as  live  remote  from  the  royal  residence,  that  there  is  such 
a  one  now  ruling  over  them? 

To  say  No,  is  to  raze  the  foundation  of  civil  government, 
and  reduce  it  wholly  to  domestical,  by  such  a  ruler  as  may 
ever  be  in  present  view.  Which  yet  is  upon  such  terms 
never  possible  to  be  preserved  also.  It  is  plain  many  do 
firmly  enough  believe  that  there  is  a  king  reigning  over 
them,  who  not  only  never  saw  the  king,  but  never  beard 
any  distinct  account  of  the  splendour  of  his  court,  the 
pomp  of  his  attendance,  or,  it  may  be,  never  saw  the  man 
that  had  seen  the  king.  And  is  not  all  dutiful  and  loyal 
obedience  Wont  to  be  challenged  and  paid  as  such,  as  well 
as  his  other  subjects'?  Or  would  it  be  thought  a  reason- 
able excuse  of  disloyalty,  that  any  such  persons  should 
say  they  had  never  seen  the  king,  or  his  court '?  Or  a 
reasonable  demand,  as  the  condition  of  required  subjection, 
that  the  court  be  kept,  sometime,  in  their  village,  that  they 
might  have  the  opportunity  of  beholding  at  least  some  of 
the  insignia  of  regality,  or  more  splendid  appearances  of 
that  majesty,  which  claims  subjection  from  them"?  Much 
more  would  it  be  deemed  unreasonable  and  insolent,  that 
every  subject  should  expect  to  see  the  face  of  the  prince 
every  day,  otherwise  they  will  not  obey,  nor  believe  there 
is  any  such  person.  Whereas  it  hath  been  judged  rather 
more  expedient  and  serviceable  to  the  continuing  the  vene- 
ration of  majesty,  (and  in  a  monarchy  of  no  mean  reputa- 
tion for  wisdom  and  greatness,)  that  the  prince  did  very 
rarely  offer  himself  to  the  view  of  the  people.  Surely  more 
ordinary  and  remote  discoveries  of  an  existing  prince  and 
ruler  over  them,  (the  effects  ofhis  power,  and  the  influences 
of  his  government,)  will  be  reckoned  sufficient,  even  as  to 
many  parts  of  his  dominions  that  possibly  through  many 
succeeding  generations  never  had  ether.  And  yet  how 
unspeakably  less  sensible,  less  immediate,  less  constant, 
less  necessary,  less  numerous,  are  the  effects  and  instances 
of  regal  human  power  and  wisdom,  than  of  the  divine ; 
which  latter  we  behold  which  way  soever  we  look,  and 
feel  in  every  thing  we  touch,  or  have  any  sense  of,  and 
may  reflect  upon  in  our  very  senses  themselves,  and  in  all 
the  parts  and  powers  that  belong  to  us;  and  so  certainly, 
that  if  we  would  allow  ourselves  the  liberty  of  serious 
thoughts,  we  might  soon  find  it  were  utterly  impossible 
such  effects  should  ever  have  been  without  that  only 
cause :  that  without  its  influence,  it  had  never  been  po.s- 
sible  that  we  could  hear,  or  see,  or  speak,  or  think,  or  live, 
or  he  any  thing,  nor  that  any  other  thing  could  ever  have 


Ctiap.  V. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


41 


been,  when  as  the  effects  that  serve  so  justly  to  endear  and 
recommend  to  us  civil  government,  (as  peace,  safety,  order, 
quiet  possession  of  our  rights,)  we  cannot  but  know,  are 
not  inseparably  and  incoramunicably  approriate,  or  to  be 
attributed  to  the  person  of  this  or  that  particular  and  mor- 
tal governor,  but  may  also  proceed  from  another;  yea,  and 
the  same  benefits  may  (for  some  short  time  at  least)  be 
continued  without  any  such  government  at  all.  Nor  is 
this  intended  merely  as  a  rhetorical  scheme  of  speech,  to 
beguile  or  amuse  the  imwary  reader  ;  but,  without  arro- 
gating any  thing,  or  attributing  more  to  it,  than  that  it  is 
an  altogether  inartificial  and  very  defective,  but  true  and 
naked,  representation  of  the  very  case  itself  as  it  is.  It  is 
professedly  propounded,  as  having  somewhat  solidly  argu- 
mentative in  it.  That  is,  that  (whereas  thereis  most  con- 
fessedly sufficient,  j'et)  there  is  unspeakably  less  evidence 
to  most  people  in  the  world,  under  civil  government ;  that 
there  actually  is  such  a  government  existent  over  them ; 
and  that  they  are  under  obligation  to  be  subject  to  it ;  than 
there  is  of  the  existence  of  a  Deity,  and  the  consequent 
reasonableness  of  religion.  If  therefore  the  ordinary 
effects  and  indications  of  the  former  be  sufficient,  which 
have  so  contingent  and  uncertain  a  connexion  with  their 
causes,  (while  those  which  are  more  extraordinary  are  so 
exceeding  rare  with  the  most,)  why  shall  not  the  more 
certain  ordinary  discoveries  of  the  latter  be  judged  suffi- 
cient, though  the  most  have  not  the  immediate  notice  of 
any  such  extraordinary  appearances  as  those  are  which 
have  been  before  mentioned  1 

VI.  Moreover,  I  yet  demand  further,  whether  it  may 
be  thought  possible  for  any  one  to  have  a  full  rational  cer- 
tainty that  another  person  is  a  reasonable  creature,  and 
bath  in  him  a  rational  soul,  so  as  to  judge  he  hath  suffi- 
cient ground  and  obligation  to  converse  with  him,  and 
carry  towards  him  as  a  man  1  Without  the  supposition 
of  this,  the  foundation  of  all  human  society  and  civil 
conversation  is  taken  awa^^.  And  what  evidence  have 
we  of  it,  whereunto  that  which  we  have  of  the  being  of 
God  (as  the  foundation  of  religious  and  godly  conversa- 
tion) will  not  at  least  be  found  equivalent. 

Will  we  say  that  mere  human  shape  is  enough  to  prove 
such  a  one  a  man"?  A  philosopher  would  deride  us,  as  the 
Stagyrite's  disciples  are  said  to  have  done  the  Platonic 
man.  But  we  will  not  be  so  nice.  We  acknowledge  it 
is,  if  no  circumstances  concur  (as  sudden  appearing,  va- 
nishing, transformation,  or  the  like)  that  plainly  evince 
the  contrary ;  so  far  as  to  infer  upon  us  an  obligation  not 
to  be  rude  and  uncivil;  that  we  use  no  violence,  nor  carry 
ourselves  abusively  towards  one  that  only  thus  appears  a 
human  creature.  Yea,  and  to  perform  any  duty  of  jus- 
tice or  charity  towards  him  within  our  power,  which  we 
owe  to  a  man  as  a  man.  As  suppose  we  see  him  wronged 
or  in  necessity,  and  can  presently  right  or  relieve  him  ; 
though  he  do  not  or  cannot  represent  to  us  more  of  his 
case  than  our  own  eyes  inform  us  of.  And  should  an  act  of 
murder  be  committed  upon  one  whose  true  humanity  was 
not  otherwise  evident,  would  not  the  offender  be  justly  li- 
able to  the  kno'WTi  and  common  punishment  of  that  event  1 
Nor  could  he  acquit  himself  of  transgressing  the  laws  of 
humanity,  if  he  should  only  neglect  any  seasonable  act  of 
justice  or  mercy  towards  him,  whereof  he  beholds  the  pre- 
sent occasion.  But  if  any  one  were  disposed  to  cavil,  or 
play  the  sophist,  how  much  more  might  be  said,  even  by 
infinite  degrees,  to  oppose  this  single  evidence  of  any  one's 
true  humanity,  than  ever  was  or  can  be  brought  against 
the  entire  concurrent  evidence  we  have  of  the  existence 
of  God.  It  is,  here,  most  manifestly  just  and  equal,  thus 
to  state  the  case,  and  compare  the  whole  evidence  we  have 
of  the  latter,  with  that  one  of  the  former ;  inasmuch  as 
that  one  alone  is  apparently  enough  to  oblige  us  to  carry 
towards  such  a  one  as  a  man.  And  if  that  alone  be  suffi- 
cient to  oblige  us  to  acts  of  justice  or  charity  towards  man, 
he  is  strangely  blind  that  cannot  see  infinitely  more  to 
oblige  him  to  acts  of  piety  towards  God. 

But  if  we  would  take  a  nearer  and  more  strict  view  of 
this  parallel,  we  would  state  the  general  and  more  obvious 
aspect  of  this  world  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  external 
aspect  and  shape  of  a  man  on  the  other  ;  and  should  then 
see  the  former  doth  evidence  to  us  an  in-dwelling  Deil^' 
diffused  through  the  whole,  and  actuatiugevery  part  with 


incomparably  greater  certainty,  than  the  latter  doth  an 
in-dwelling  reasonable  soul.  In  which  way  we  shall  find 
what  will  aptly  serve  our  present  purpose,  though  we  are 
far  from  apprehending  any  such  union  of  the  blessed  God 
with  this  world,  as  is  between  the  soul  and  body  of  a  maru 
It  is  manifestly  possible  to  our  understandings,  that  there 
may  be,  and  (ii  any  hi.story  or  testimony  of  others  be 
worthy  to  be  believed)  certain  to  experience  and  sense, 
that  there  often  hath  been,  the  appearance  of  human 
shape  and  of  agreeable  actions  without  a  real  man.  But 
it  is  no  way  possible  such  a  world  as  this  should  have  ever 
been  without  God.  That  there  is  a  world,  proves  that 
eternal  Being  to  exist,  whom  we  take  to  be  God,  (snppo.se 
we  it  as  rude  a  heap  as  at  first  it  was,  or  as  we  can  sup- 
pose it,)  as  external  appearance  represents  to  us  that  cr-ea- 
ture  which  we  take  to  be  a  man :  but  that  as  a  certain  in- 
fallible discovery,  necessarily  true  ;  this  but  as  a  probable 
and  conjectural  one,  and  (though  highly  probable)  not  im- 
possible to  be  false. 

And  if  we  will  yet  descend  to  amore  particular  inquiry 
into  this  matter,  w'hich  way  will  we  fully  be  ascertained 
that  this  supposed  man  is  truly  and  really  what  he  seems 
to  be  7  This  we  know  not  how  to  go  about,  without  recol- 
lecting what  is  the  differencing  notion  we  have  of  a  man  4 
that  he  is,  viz.  a  reasonable,  living  creature,  or  a  reason- 
able soul,  inhabitinsT,  and  united  with  a  hoAy.  And  how 
do  we  think  to  descry  that,  here,  which  may  answer  this 
common  notion  we  have  of  a  man  1  Have  we  any  way 
besides  that  discovery  which  the  acts  and  effects  of  reason, 
do  make  of  a  rational  or  intelligent  beingl  We  will  look 
more  narrowly,  i.  e.  unto  somcAvhat  else  than  his  external 
appearance;  and  observe  the  actions  that  proceed  from  a 
more  distinguishing  principle  in  him,  that  he  reasons,  dis- 
courses, doth  business,  pursues  designs;  in  short,  he  talks 
and  acts  as  a  reasonable  creature:  and  hence  we  conclude 
him  to  be  one,  or  to  have  a  reasonable  soul  in  him. 

And  have  we  not  the  same  way  of  procedure  in  the  other 
case  1  Our  fir.st  view  or  takingnotice  of  a  world  full  of 
life  and  motion,  assures  us  of  an  eternal  active  Being,  be- 
sides it,  which  we  take  to  be  God,  having  now  before  our 
eyes  a  darker  shadow  of  him  only,  as  the  external  bulk  of 
the  human  body  is  onlv  the  shadow  of  a  man.  Whicli, 
when  we  behold  it  stirring  and  moving,  assures  us  there  is 
somewhat  besides  that  grosser  bulk,  (that  of  itself  could 
not  so  move,)  which  we  take  to  be  the  soul  of  a  man. 
Yet,  as  a  principle  that  can  move  the  body  makes  not  up 
the  entire  notion  of  this  soul,  so  an  eternal  active  being, 
that  moves  the  matter  of  the  universe,  makes  not  up  the 
full  notion  of  God.  We  are  thus  far  sure  in  both  cases, 
i.  c.  of  some  mover  distinct  from  what  is  moved.  But  we 
are  not  yet  sure,  by  what  we  hitherto  see,  what  the  one  or 
the  other  is.  But  as  when  we  have  upon  the  first  sight 
lhou<^ht  it  was  a  reasonable  soul  that  was  acting  in  the 
former  or  a  man,  (if  we  will  speak  according  to  their 
sense  who  make  the  soul  the  man,)  in  order  to  being  sure, 
(as  .sure  as  the  case  can  admit,)  we  have  no  other  way, 
but  to  consider  what  belongs  more  distinguishmgly  to  the 
notion  of  a  man,  or  of  a  reasonable  soul ;  and  observe  how- 
actions  and  effects,  which  we  have  opportunity  to  take 
notice  of,  do  answer  thereto,  or  serve  to  discover  that,  bo 
when  we  would  be  sure  what  that  eternal  active  Being  is 
(which  that  it  is,  we  are  already  sure,  and)  which  we  have 
taken  to  be  God,  that,  I  say,  we  may  be  sure  of  that  also, 
we  have  the  same  thing  to  do.  That  is,  to  consider  what 
more  peculiarly  belongs  to  the  entire  notion  of  Grod,  (and 
would  even  in"the  judgment  of  opposei-i,be  acknowledged 
to  belono-  to  n  )  and  see  whether  his  works,  more  narrowly- 
inspected,  do  not  bear  as  manifest  correspondency  to  that 
notion  of  God,  as  the  works  and  actions  of  a  man  do  to 
the  notion  we  have  of  him.  And  certainly  we  cannot  but 
find  they  do  correspond  as  much.  And  that  upon  a  seri- 
ous and"  considerate  view  of  the  works  and  appearances  of 
God  in  the  world ;  having  diligently  observed  and  pon- 
dered the  vastness  and  beauty  of  this  universe,  the  variety, 
the  multitude,  the  order,  the  exquisite  shapes  and  numer- 
ous parts,  the  admirable  and  useful  composure,  of  parti- 
cular creatures;  and  especially  the  constitution  and  powers 
of  the  reasonable  soul  of  man  itself;  we  cannot,  surety, 
if  we  be  not  under  the  possession  of  a  very  voluntar}-  and 
obstinate  blindness,  and  the  power  of  a  most  vicious  pre- 


42 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  1. 


judice,  but  acknowledge  the  making,  sustaining,  and  go- 
verning such  a  world,  is  as  god-like,  as  worthy  of  God, 
and  as  much  becoming  him,  according  to  the  notion  that 
hath  been  assigned  of  him,  as  at  least  the  common  actions 
of  ordinary  men,  are  of  a  man ;  or  evidence  the  doer  of 
them  to  be  a  human  creature.  Yea,  and  with  this  advan- 
tageous difference,  that  the  actions  of  a  man  do  evidence 
a  human  creature  more  uncertainly,  and  so  as  it  is  possible 
the  matter  may  be  otherwise.  But  these  works  of  God  do 
with  so  plain  and  demonstrative  evidence  discover  him 
the  Author  of  them,  that  it  is  altogether  impossible  they 
could  ever  otherwise  have  been  done. 

Now  therefore,  if  we  have  as  clear  evidence  of  a  Deity, 
as  we  can  have,  in  a  way  not  unsuitable  to  the  nature  and 
present  state  of  man ;  (and  we  can  have  in  a  suitable  way, 
that  which  is  sufficient ;)  if  we  have  clearer  and  more 
certain  evidence  of  God's  government  over  the  world, 
than  most  men  have  or  can  have,  of  the  existence  of  their 
secular  rulers ;  yea,  more  sure  than  that  there  are  men  on 
earth,  and  that  thence  (as  far  as  the  existence  of  God  will 
make  towards  it)  there  is  a  less  disputable  ground  for  re- 
ligioris  than  for  civil  conversation ;  we  may  reckon  our- 
selves competently  well  ascertained,  and  have  no  longer 
reason  to  delay  the  dedication  of  a  temple  to  him,  upon 
any  pretence  of  doubt,  whether  we  have  an  object  of  wor- 
ship existing,  3^ea  or  no. 

Wherefore  we  may  also  by  the  way  take  notice  how  im- 
pudent a  thing  is  atheism,  that  by  the  same  fulsome  and 
poisonous  breath  whereby  it  would  blast  religion,  would 
despoil  man  of  his  reason  and  apprehensive  power,  even 
in  reference  to  the  most  apprehensible  thing  ;  would  blow 
away  the  rights  of  princes,  and  all  foundations  of  policy 
and  government,  and  destroy  all  civil  commerce  and  con- 
versation out  of  the  world,  and  yet  blushes  not  at  the  at- 
tempt of  so  foul  things. 

VII.  And  here  it  may  perhaps  prove  worth  our  while 
(though  it  can  be  no  pleasant  contemplation)  to  pause  a 
little,  and  make  some  short  reflections  upon  the  atheistical 
temper  and  genius,  so  as  therein  to  remark  some  few  more 
obvious  characters  of  atheism  itself. 

And  Jirst,  such  as  have  not  been  themselves  seized  by 
the  infatuation,  cannot  but  judge  it  a  most  unreasonable 
thing,  a  perverse  and  cross-grained  humour,  that  so  oddly 
writhes  and  warps  the  mind  of  a  man,  as  that  it  never 
makes  any  effort  or  offer  at  any  thing  against  the  Deity  ; 
but  it  therein  dolh  (by  a  certain  sort  of  serpentine  invo- 
lution and  retortion)  seem  to  design  a  quarrel  with  itself: 
that  is,  with  (what  one  would  think  should  be  most  inti- 
mate and  natural  to  the  mind  of  man)  his  very  reasoning 
power,  and  the  operations  thereof  So  near  indeed  was 
the  ancient  alliance  between  God  and  man,  (his  own  Son, 
his  likeness  and  living  image,)  and  consequently  between 
reason  and  religion,  that  no  man  can  ever  be  engaged  in 
an  opposition  to  God  and  his  interest,  but  he  must  be  equal- 
ly so  to  himself  and  his  own.  And  any  one  that  takes  no- 
tice how  the  business  is  carried  by  an  atheist,  must  think, 
in  order  to  his  becoming  one,  his  first  plot  was  upon  him- 
self: to  assassine  his  own  intellectual  i^aculty,  by  a  sturdj^ 
resolution,  and  violent  imposing  on  himself,  not  to  consi- 
der, or  use  his  thoughts,  at  least  with  any  indifferency,  but 
with  a  treacherous  predetermination  to  the  part  resolved 
on  before-hand.  Otherwise,  it  is  hard  to  be  imagined  how 
it  should  ever  have  been  possible  that  so  plain  and  evident 
proofs  of  a  Deity  as  every  where  offer  themselves  unto 
observation,  even  such  as  have  been  here  proposed,  (that 
do  even  lie  open,^or  the  most  part,  to  common  apprehen- 
sion, and  needed  little  search  to  fuid  them  out ;  so  that  it 
was  harder  to  determine  what  not  to  say,  than  what  to 
say,)  could  be  overlooked. 

For  what  could  be  more  easy  and  obvious,  than  taking 
notice  that  there  is  somewhat  in  being,  to  conclude  that 
somewhat  must  be  of  itself,  from  whence  whatever  is  not 
so  must  have  sprung  1  That,  since  there  is  somewhat 
effected  or  made,  (as  is  plain,  in  that  some  things  are  al- 
terable, and  daily  altered,  which  nothing  can  be  that  is  of 
itself,  and  therefore  a  necessary  being,)  those  effects  have 
then  had  an  active  being  for  their  cause  1  That  since  the.se 
effects  are  partly  such  as  bear  the  manifest  characters  of 
wisdom  and  design  upon  them,  and  are  partly,  themselves, 
wise  and  designing ;  therefore  they  must  have  had  a  wisely 


active  and  designing  cause  1  So  much  would  plainly  con- 
clude the  sum  of  what  we  have  been  pleading  for  ;  and 
what  can  be  plainer  or  doth  require  a  shorter  turn  of 
thoughts  1  At  this  eo.sy  expense  might  any  one  that  had  a 
disposition  to  use  his  understanding  to  such  a  purpose, 
save  himself  from  being  an  atheist.  And  where  is  the 
flaw "?  What  joint  is  not  firm  and  .strong  in  this  little  frame 
of  discourse  1  which  yet  arrogates  nothing  to  the  contri- 
ver; for  there  is  nothing  in  it  worthy  to  be  called  contri- 
vance ;  but  things  do  themselves  lie  thus.  And  what  hath 
been  further  said  concerning  the  perfection  and  oneness 
of  this  Cause  of  all  things,  (though  somewhat  more  remote 
from  common  apprehension,)  is  what  it  is  likely  would 
appear  plain  and  natural  to  such  as  would  allow  them- 
selves the  leisure  to  look  more  narrowly  into  such  things. 

Atheism  therefore  seems  to  import  a  direct  and  open 
hostility  against  the  most  native,  genuine,  and  facile  dic- 
tates of  common  reason.  And  being  so  manifest  an  enemy 
to  it,  we  cannot  suppose  it  should  be  at  all  befriended  by 
it.  For  that  will  be  always  true  and  constant  to  itself, 
whatsoever  false  shows  of  it  a  bad  cause  doth  sometimes 
put  on ;  that  having  yet  somewhat  a  more  creditable  name, 
and  being  of  a  little  more  reputation  in  the  world,  than 
plain  downright  madness  and  folly.  And  it  will  appear 
how  little  it  is  befriended,  by  any  thing  that  can  justly 
bear  that  name,  if  we  consider  the  pitiful  shifts  the  atheist 
makes  for  his  forlorn  cause ;  and  what  infirm  tottering 
supports  the  whole  frame  of  atheism  rests  upon.  For 
what  is  there  to  be  said  for  their  hypothesis,  or  against  the 
existence  of  God,  and  the  dueness  of  religion  1  For  it, 
there  is  directly  nothing  at  all.  Only  a  possibility  is  al- 
leged, things  might  be  as  they  are,  though  God  did  not 
exist.  And  if  this  were  barely  possible,  how  little  doth 
that  signify  1  Where  reason  is  not  injuriously  dealt  with, 
it  is  permitted  the  liberty  of  balancing  things  equally,  and 
of  considering  which  scale  hath  most  weight.  And  is  he 
not  perfectly  blind,  that  sees  flot  what  violence  is  done  to 
free  reason  in  this  matter  1  Are  there  not  thousands  of 
things,  not  altogether  impossible,  which  yet  he  would  be 
concluded  altogether  out  of  his  wits,  that  should  profess 
to  be  of  the  opinion  they  are,  or  were  actually  so  1  And  as 
to  the  present  case,  how  facile  and  imexceplionable,  how 
plain  and  intelligible,  is  the  account  that  is  given  of  the- 
original  of  this  world,  and  the  things  contained  in  it,  by 
resolving  all  into  a  Deity,  the  Author  and  Maker  of  them  1 
Whereas  the  wild,  extravagant  suppositions  of  atheists,  if 
they  were  admitted  possible,  are  the  most  unlikely  that 
could  be  devised.  So  that  if  there  had  been  any  to  have 
laid  wagers,  when  things  were  taking  their  beginning,there 
is  nobody  that  would  not  have  ventured  thousands  to  one, 
that  no  such  frame  of  things  (no  not  so  much  as  one  single 
mouse  or  flea)  would  ever  have  hit.  And  how  desperate 
hazards  the  atheist  runs,  upon  this  mere  supposed  possi- 
bility, it  will  be  more  in  our  way  to  take  notice  by  and  by. 
But  besides,  that  pretended  possibility  plainly  appears 
none  at  all.  It  is  impossible  any  thing  should  spring  up 
of  itself  out  of  nothing ;  that  any  thing  that  is  alterable, 
should  have  been  necessarily  of  itself,  such  as  it  now  is ; 
that  what  is  of  itself  unactive,  should  be  the  maker  of 
other  things ;  that  the  Author  of  all  the  wisdom  in  the 
world,  should  be,  himself,  unwise.  These  cannot  but  be 
judged  most  absolute  impo.ssibilities,  to  such  as  do  not  vi- 
olence to  their  own  minds ;  or  with  whom  reason  can  be 
allowed  any  the  least  exercise.  Wherefore  the  atheistical 
spirit  is  most  grossly  unreasonable,  in  withholding  assent, 
v/here  the  most  ungainsayable  reason  plainly  exat;ts  it. 

And  are  not  the  atheist's  cavils  as  despicably  silly  against 
the  Deity,  and  (consequently)  religion'?  Whosoever  shall 
consider  their  exceptions  against  some  things  in  the  notion 
of  God,  eternity,  infinity,  &c.  which  themselves,  in  the 
meantime,  are  "forced  to  place  elsewhere,  will  he  not  see 
they  talk  idly  1  And  as  for  such  other  impeachments  of 
his  wisdom,  justice,  and  goodness,  as  they  take  their  ground 
for,  from  the  state  of  affairs,  in  some  respects,  in  this 
present  world,  (many  of  which  maybe  seen  in  Lucretius, 
and  ansAvered  by  Dr.  More  in  his  Dialogties,)  how  incon- 
siderable will  they  be,  to  any  one  that  bethinks  himself, 
with  how  perfect  and  generous  a  liberty  this  world  was? 
made,  by  one  that  needed  it  not;  who  had  no  design,  nor 
could  have  inclination  to  a  fond,  self-indulgent  glorying 


CsAP.  V. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


43 


and  vaunting  of  his  own  work ;  who  did  it  with  the  great- 
est facility,  and  by  an  easy,  iinexpensive  vouchsafement  of 
his  good  pleasure ;  not  with  an  operose  curiosity,  studious 
to  approve  itself  to  the  peevish  eye  of  every  froward  Mo- 
mus,  or  to  the  nauseous,  squeamish  gust  of  every  sensual 
Epicure.  And  to  such  as  shall  not  confine  their  mean 
thoughts  to  that  very  clod  or  ball  of  earth  on  which  they 
live;  which,  as  it  is  a  very  small  part,  may,  for  aught  we 
know,  but  be  the  worst  or  most  abject  part  of  God's 
creation;  which  yet  is  full  of  his  goodness,  and  hath  most 
manifest  prints  of  his  other  excellences  besides,  as  hath 
been  observed;  or  that  shall  not  look  upon  the  present 
state  of  things  as  the  eternal  state,  but  upon  this  world 
only  as  an  antechamber  to  another,  which  shall  abide  in 
most  unexceptionable  perfection  for  ever: — how  fond  and 
idle,  I  say,  will  all  such  cavils  appear  to  one  that  shall  but 
thus  use  his  thoughts,  and  not  think  himself  bound  to 
measure  his  conceptions  of  God  by  the  uncertain,  rash 
dictates  of  men  born  in  the  dark,  and  that  talk  at  random ; 
nor  shall  affix  any  thing  to  him,  which  plain  reason  doth 
not  dictate,  or  which  he  doth  not  manifestly  assume,  or 
challenge  to  himself  But  that  because  a  straw  lies  in 
my  way,  I  would  attempt  to  overturn  heaven  and  earth, 
what  raging  phrensy  is  this ! 

Again,  it  is  a  base,  abject  temper,  speaks  a  mind  sunk 
and  lost  in  carnality,  and  that  having  dethroned  and  ab- 
jured reason,  hath  abandoned  itself  to  the  hurry  of  vile 
appetite,  and  sold  its  liberty  and  sovereignty  for  the  insipid, 
gustless  pleasures  of  sense ;  an  unmanly  thing — a  degrad- 
ing of  oneself  For  if  there  be  no  God,  what  am  I*?  A 
piece  of  moving,  thinking  clay,  whose  ill-compacted  parts 
will  shortly  fly  asunder,  and  leave  no  other  remains  of  me 
than  what  shall  become  the  prey  and  triumph  of  worms  ! 

It  is  a  sad,  mopish,  disconsolate  temper ;  cuts  off  and 
quite  banishes  all  manly,  rational  joy ;  all  that  might 
spring  from  the  contemplation  of  the  divine  excellences 
and  glory,  shining  in  the  works  of  his  hands.  Atheism 
clothes  the  world  in  black,  draws  a  dark  and  duskish 
cloud  over  all  things ;  doth  more  to  damp  and  stifle  all 
relishes  of  intellectual  pleasure,  than  it  would  of  sensible, 
to  extinguish  the  sim.  What  is  this  world  (if  we  should 
suppose  it  still  to  subsist)  without  Godl  How  grateful 
an  entertainment  is  it  to  a  pious  mind  to  behold  his  glory 
stamped  on  eveiy  creature,  sparkling  in  every  providence ; 
and  by  a  firm  and  rational  faith  to  believe  (when  we  can- 
not see)  how  all  events  are  conspiring  to  bring  about  the 
most  happy  and  blissful  state  of  things  !  The  atheist  may 
make  the  most  of  this  world;  he  knows  no  pleasure,  but 
what  can  be  drawn  out  of  its  dry  breasts,  or  found  in  its 
cold  embraces ;  which  yields  as  little  satisfaction,  as  he 
finds,  whose  arms,  aiming  to  enclose  a  dear  friend,  do  onl}' 
clasp  a  stiff  and  clammy  carcass.  How  uncomfortable  a 
thing  is  it  to  him,  that  having  neither  power  nor  wit  to 
order  things  to  his  own  advantage  or  content,  but  finds 
himself  liable  to  continual  disappointments,  and  the  ren- 
counter of  many  an  unsuspected,  cross  accident,  hath  none 
to  repose  on  that  is  vyiser  and  mightier  than  himself!  But 
when  he  finds  he  cannot  command  his  own  affairs,  to  have 
the  settled  apprehension  of  an  Almighty  Ruler,  that  can 
with  the  greatest  certainty  do  it  for  us  the  best  way,  and 
will,  if  we  trust  him — how  satisfying  and  peaceful  a  repose 
doth  this  yield !  And  how  much  the  rather,  inasmuch  as 
that  filial,  unsuspicious  confidence  and  trust,  which  natu- 
rally tends  to  and  begets  that  calm  and  quiet  rest,  is  the 
very  condition  required  on  my  part ;  and  that  the  chief 
thing  I  have  to  do,  to  have  my  affaire  brought  to  a  good 
pass,  is  to  commit  them  to  his  management ;  and  my  only 
care,  to  be  careful  in  nothing.  The  atheist  hath  nothing  to 
mitigate  the  greatness  of  this  loss,  but  that  he  knows  not 
what  he  loses;  which  is  an  allay  that  will  serve  but  a 
little  while.  And  when  the  most  unsupportahle,  pressing 
miseries  befall  him,  he  must  in  bitter  agonies  groan  out  his 
•wretched  soul  without  hope,  and  sooner  die  under  his 
burden,  than  say.  Where  is  my  God  and  Maker  1  At  the 
best,  he  exchanges  all  the  pleasure  and  composure  of  mind 
which  certainly  accompanies  a  dutiful,  son-like  trust,  sub- 

f  Wliich  story  I  confidently  refer  to,  hein?  of  late  date,  and  hanng  had  a 
r.ertain  and  circumstantial  account  of  it,  by  one  (a  viTy  sober  and  intelligent 
person)  who  had  the  relation  from  hin>  to  whom  that  dreadful  warning  was 
given,  by  his  then  lately  deceased  associate.    But  I  shall  not  by  a  particular . 


mission,  and  resignation  of  ourselve.%  and  all  our  concern- 
ments, to  the  disposal  of  fatherly  wisdom  and  Icve,  for  e 
sour  and  sullen  succumbency  to  an  irresistible  fate  or  hard 
necessity,  against  which  he  sees  it  is  vain  to  contend.  So 
that  at  the  best  he  not  only  rages,  but  tastes  nothing  of 
consolation;  whereof  his  spirit  is  as  incapable,  as  his  des- 
perate affairs  are  of  redress.  And  if  he  have  arrived  to 
that  measure  of  foriiiude,  as  not  to  be  much  discomposed 
with  the  lighter  crosses  which  he  meets  with  in  this  short 
time  of  life,  what  a  dreadful  cross  is  it  that  he  must  die! 
How  dismal  a  thing  is  a  certain,  never  to  be  avoided 
death  !  Against  which  as  atheism  hath  not  surely  the  ad- 
vantage of  religion  in  giving  protection ;  so  it  hath  greatly 
the  disadvantage,  in  afibrding  no  relief  What  would  the 
joy  be  worth  in  that  hour,  that  arises  from  the  hope  of  the 
glory  to  be  revealed  1  And  is  the  want  of  tliat,  the  total 
sum  of  the  atheist's  misery  at  this  hour^  What  heart  can 
conceive  the  horror  of  that  one  thought,  if  darted  in  upon 
him  at  that  time,  (as  it  is  strange,  and  more  sad,  if  it  be 
not,)  What  becomes  now  of  me,  if  there  prove  to  be  a  God  1 
Where  are  my  mighty  demonstrations,  upon  which  one 
may  venture,  and  which  may  cut  off  all  fear  and  danger  of 
future  calamity  in  this  dark,  unknown  state  I  am  going 
into'?  Shall  I  be  the  next  hour  nothing,  or  miserable !? 
Or  if  I  had  opportunity,  shall  I  not  have  sufficient  cause 
to  proclaim,  (asf  once  one  of  the  same  fraternity  did,  by 
way  of  warning  to  a  surviving  companion) — A  great  and  a 
terrible  God !  A  great  and  a  terrible  God !  A  great  and 
a  terrible  God. 

I  only  add,  'tis  a  most  strangely  mysterious  and  unac- 
covmtable  temper ;  such  as  is  hardly  reducible  to  its  pro- 
per causes:  so  that  it  would  puzzle  any  man's  inquirj'  to 
find  out  or  even  give  but  probable  conjectures,  how  so  odd 
and  preternatural  a  disaffection  as  atheism  should  ever 
come  to  have  place  in  a  human  mind.  It  must  be  con- 
cluded a  very  complicated  disease,  and  yet,  when  our 
thoughts  have  fastened  upon  several  things  that  have  an 
aspect  that  way,  as  none  of  them  alone  could  infer  it,  sa 
it  is  hard  to  imagine,  how  ail  of  them  together  should  ever 
come  to  deprave  reasonable  nature  to  such  a  degree. 

'Tis,  first,  most  astonishingly  marvellous,  (though  it  is 
apparent  this  distemper  hath  its  rise  from  an  HI  will,)  that 
any  should  so  much  as  will  that  which  the  atheist  hath 
obtained  of  himself  to  believe;  or  afJect  to  be,  what  he  is. 

The  commonness  of  this  vile  disposition  of  will,  doth 
but  sorrily  shift  off  the  wonder,  and  only  with  tho.se  slight 
and  trifling  minds  that  have  resigned  the  office  of  judging 
things  to  their  (more  active)  senses,  and  have  leanied  the 
easy  way  of  waving  all  inquiries  about  common  things, 
or  resolving  the  account  into  this  only,  that  they  are 
to  be  seen  every  day.  But  if  we  allowed  ourselves  to 
consider  this  matter  soberly,  we  would  soon  find,  that 
howsoever  it  must  plainly  appear  a  very  common  plague 
upon  the  spirits  of  men  (and  universal  till  a  cure  be 
wrought)  to  say,  by  way  of  wish,  No  God,  or  I  would 
there  were  none:  yet  by  the  good  leave  of  them  who 
would  thus  easily  excuse  the  thing,  the  commonness  of 
this  horrid  evil  doth  so  little  diminish,  that  it  increases  the 
wonder.  Things  are  more  strange,  as  their  causes  are  more 
hardly  assignable.  What  should  the  reason  be,  that  a 
being  of  so  incomparable  excellency,  so  amiable  and  allur- 
ing glory,  purity,  love,  and  goodness,  is  become  imdesir- 
able  and  hateful  to  his  own  creatures!  that  such  creatures, 
his  more  immediate,  peculiar  offsprin'j,  stamped  with  his 
likeness,  the  so  vivid  resemblances  of  his  own  spiritual 
immortal  nature,  are  become  so  wickedly  unnatural  to- 
wards their  common  and  most  indulgent  parent  i  what,  to 
wish  him  dead !  to  envy  life  and  being,  to  him  from  whom 
they  have  rec«ved  their  own  !  'Tis  as  strange  as  it  is 
without  a  cause.  But  they  have  offended  him,  are  in  a 
revolt,  and  sharply  conscious  of  fearful  demerits.  And  who 
would  not  wish  to  live,  and  to  escape  so  unsupportahle 
revenge  1  'Tis  still  strange  we  would  ever  offend  such  a 
one!  Wherein  were  his  laws  imequal,  his  government 
grievous  1  But  since  we  have,  this  only  is  pertinent  to  be 
said  by  them  that  have  no  hope  of  forgiveness,  that  are  left 

I 

relation  gratify  the  .scorn  of  this  sort  of  men,  who.  taking  advantage  from  the 
(sometime  deceived)  credulity  of  well-meaning  people  have  but  tjiat  way  of 
answering  all  such  tilings,  by  the  one  word  which  served  so  learnedly  to  ooniufe 
Bellamiine. 


i 


44 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  I. 


to  despair  of  reconciliation— Why  do  we  sort  ourselves 
with  devils  1    We  profess  not  to  be  such. 

Yea,  but  we  have  no  hope  to  be  forgiven  the  sin  we  do 
not  leave,  nor  power  to  leave  the  sin  which  now  we  love. 
This,  instead  of  lessening,  makes  the  wonder  a  miracle.  O 
wretched,  forlorn  creature !  Wouldst  thou  have  God  out 
of  being  for  this'?  (I  speak  to  thee  who  dost  not  yet  pro- 
fess to  believe  there  is  no  God,  but  dost  only  wish  it.)  The 
sustainer  of  the  world !  the  common  basis  of  all  being ! 
Dost  thou  know  what  thou  sayest,'?  Art  thou  not  wishing 
thyself  and  all  things  into  nothing  1  This,  rather  than 
humble  thyself,  and  beg  forgiveness !  This,  rather  than 
become  again  a  holy,  pure,  obedient  creature,  and  again 
blessed  in  him,  who  lirst  made  thee  so !  It  can  never 
cease,  I  say,  to  be  a  wonder,  we  never  ought  to  cease  won- 
dering, that  ever  this  befell  the  nature  of  man,  to  be  prone 
to  wisk  such  a  thing,  that  there  were  no  God ! 

Bat  this  is,  'tis  true,  the  too  common  case;  and  if  we 
will  only  have  what  is  more  a  rarity  go  for  a  wonder,  how 
amazing  then  is  it.  That  if  any  man  would,  even  never  so 
fain,  he  ever  can  make  himself  believe  there  is  no  God  ! 
and  shape  his  horrid  course  according  to  that  most  horrid 
misbelief!  By  what  fatal  train  of  causes  is  this  ever 
brought  to  passi    Into  what  can  we  devise  to  resolve  itl 

Why  such  as  have  arrived  to  this  pitch  are  much  ad- 
dicted to  the  pleasing  of  their  senses ;  and  this  they  make 
their  business;  so  as  that,  for  a  long  time,  they  have  given 
themselves  no  leisure  to  mind  objects  of  another  nature; 
especially  that  should  any  way  tend  to  disturb  them  in 
their  easy  course;  till  they  are  gradually  fallen  into  a  for- 
getful sleep,  and  the  images  of  things  are  worn  out  with 
them,  that  had  only  more  slightly  touched  their  minds 
Defore.  And  being  much  used  to  go  by  the  suggestions  of 
sense,  they  believe  not  what  they  neither  see  nor  feel. 

This  is  somewhat,  but  does  not  reach  the  mark;  for 
there  are  many  very  great  sensualists,  (as  great  as  they  at 
least,)  who  never  arrive  hither,  but  firmly  avow  it  that  they 
believe  a  Deity,  whatsoever  mistaken  notion  they  have  of 
him ;  whereupon  they  imagine  to  themselves  impunity  in 
their  vicious  course. 

But  these,  it  may  be  said,  have  so  disaccustomed 
themselves  to  the  exercise  of  their  reason,  that  they  have 
no  disposition  to  use  their  thoughts  about  any  thing  above 
the  sphere  of  sense ;  and  have  contracted  so  dull  and 
sluggish  a  temper,  that  they  are  no  fitter  to  mind  or  em- 
ploy themselves  in  any  speculations  that  tend  to  beget  in 
them  the  knowledge  of  God,  than  any  man  is  for  discourse 
or  business  when  he  is  fast  asleep. 

So  indeed,  in  reason,  one  would  expect  to  find  it;  but 
the  case  is  so  much  otherwise,  when  we  consider  particular 
instances,  that  we  are  the  more  perplexed  and  entangled 
in  this  inquiry,  by  considering  how  agreeable  it  is,  that  the 
matter  should  be  thus;  and  observing  that  it  proves,  oft- 
times,  not  to  be  so ;  insomuch  that  reason  and  experience 
.seem  herein  not  to  agree,  and  hence  we  are  put  again  upon 
new  conjectures  what  the  immediate  cause  of  this  strange 
malady  should  be.  For  did  it  proceed  purely  from  a 
sluggish  temper  of  mind,  unapt  to  reasoning  and  dis- 
course ;  the  more  any  were  so,  the  more  disposed  they 
should  be  to  atheism :  whereas,  every  one  knows  that 
multitudes  of  persons  of  dull  and  slow  minds,  to  any 
thing  of  ratiocination,  would  rather  you  should  burn  their 
houses,  than  tell  them  they  did  not  believe  in  God  :  and 
would  presently  tell  you,  it  were  pity  he  should  live,  that 
should  but  intimate  a  doubt  whether  there  were  a  God  or 
no.  Yea,  and  man}',  somewhat  more  intelligent,  yet  in 
this  matter  are  shy  of  using  their  reason,  and  think  it  un- 
.safe,  it  not  profane,  to  go  about  to  prove  that  there  is  a 
God,  lest  they  should  move  a  doubt,  or  seem  hereby  to 
make  a  question  of  it.  And  in  the  mean  time,  while  they 
offer  not  at  reasoning,  they  more  meanly  supply  that  want, 
after  a  sorry  fashion,  from  their  education,  the  tradition  of 
their  forefathers,  common  example,  and  the  universal  pro- 
fession and  practice  of  some  religion  round  about  them ; 
and  it  may  be  only  take  the  matter  for  granted,  because 
they  never  heard  such  a  thing  was  ever  doubted  of  or 
called  in  question  in  all  their  lives. 

Whereas,  on  the  other  hand,  they  who  incline  to  atheism 

g  Anst.  Elli.  1.  3. 


are,  perhaps,  some  of  them  the  greatest  pretenders  to  rea- 
son. They  rely  little  upon  authority  of  former  times  and 
ages,  upon  vulgar  principles  and  maxims,  but  are  vogued 
great  masters  of  reason,  diligent  searchers  into  the  myste- 
ries of  nature,  and  can  philosophize  (as  sufficiently  appears) 
beyond  all  imagination.  But  'tis  hoped  it  may  be  truly- 
said,  for  the  vindication  of  philosophy  and  them  that  pro- 
fess it,  that  modern  atheists  have  little  of  that  to  glory  in ; 
and  that  their  chief  endowments  are  only  their  skill  to 
please  their  senses,  and  a  faculty  with  a  pitiful  sort  of 
drollery  to  tincture  their  cups,  and  add  a  grace  to  their 
otherwise  dull  and  flat  conversation.  Yet  all  this  howso- 
ever being  considered,  there  is  here  but  little  advance  made 
to  the  finding  out  whence  atheism  should  proceed.  For, 
that  want  of  reason  shall  be  thought  the  cause,  what 
hath  been  already  said  seems  to  forbid ;  that  many  igno- 
rant persons  seem  possessed  with  a  great  awe  of  a  Deity, 
from  which  divers,  more  knowing,  have  delivered  them- 
selves. And  yet  neither  doth  the  former  signify  any  thing 
(in  just  interpretation)  to  the  disrepute  of  religion.  For 
truth  is  not  the  less  true,  for  that  some  hold  it  they  know 
not  how  or  why.  Nor  doth  the  latter  make  to  the  reputa- 
tion of  atheism,  inasmuch  as  men,  otherwise  rational,  may 
sometimes  learnedly  dote.  But  it  confirms  us  that  atheism 
is  a  strange  thing,  when  its  extraction  and  pedigree  are  so 
hardly  found  out,  and  it  seems  to  be  directly  of  the  lineage, 
neither  of  knowledge  nor  ignorance,  neither  sound  reason 
nor  perfect  dotage. 

Nor  doth  it  at  all  urge  to  say,  And  why  may  we  not  as 
well  stand  wondering,  whence  the  apprehension  of  a  God, 
and  an  addictedness  to  religion,  should  come,  when  we 
find  them  peculiar  neither  to  the  more  knowing  nor  the 
more  ignorant  1  For  they  are  apparently  and  congruously 
enough  to  be  derived  from  somewhat  common  to  them 
both — the  impression  of  a  Deity,  imiversally  put  upon  the 
minds  of  all  men,  (which  atheists  have  made  a  shift  to 
rase  out,  or  obliterate  to  that  degree,  as  to  render  it  illegi- 
ble,) and  that  cultivated  by  the  exercise  of  reason,  in  some, 
and  in  others,  less  capable  of  that  help,  somewhat  con- 
firmed by  education,  and  the  other  accessaries  mentioned 
above. 

Therefore  is  this  matter  still  most  mysteriously  intricate, 
that  there  should  be  one  temper  and  persuasion,  agreeing  to 
two  so  vastly  different  sorts  of  persons,  while  yet  we  are 
to  seek  for  a  cause  (except  what  is  most  tremendous  to 
think  of)  from  whence  it  should  proceed,  that  is  common 
to  them  both.  And  here  is,  in  short,  the  sum  of  the  won- 
der, that  any,  not  appearing  very  grossly  unreasonable  in 
other  matters,  (which  cannot  be  denied  even  of  some  of 
the  more  sensual  and  lewder  sort  of  atheists,)  should,  in  so 
plain  and  important  a  case,  be  so,  beyond  all  expression, 
absurd;  that  they  without  scruple  are  pleased  to  think 
like  other  men  in  matters  that  concern  and  relate  to  com- 
mon practice,  and  wherein  they  might  more  colourably, 
and  with  less  hazard,  go  out  of  the  common  road ;  and  are 
here  only  so  dangerously  and  madly  extravagant.  Theirs 
is  therefore  a  particidar  madness ;  the  dementia  quoad  hoc ; 
so  much  'the  stranger  thing,  because  they  whom  it  pos- 
sesses do  only  in  this  one  case  put  off  themselves,  and  are 
like  themselves  and  other  men  in  all  things  else.  If  they 
reckoned  it  a  glory  to  be  singular,  they  might  (as  hath 
been  plainly  shown)  more  plausibly  profess  it  as  a  principle, 
that  they  are  not  bound  to  believe  the  existence  of  any 
secular  ruler  (and  consequently  not  be  subject  to  any) 
longer  than  they  see  him,  and  so  subvert  all  policy  and 
government;  or  pretend  an  exemption  from  all  obligation 
to  any  act  of  justice,  or  to  forbear  the  most  injurious  vio- 
lence towards  any  man,  because  they  are  not  infallibly 
certain  any  one  they  see  is  a  human  wight,  and  so  abjure 
all  morality,  as  they  have  already  so  great  a  part ;  than 
offer  with  so  fearful  hazard  to  assault  the  Deity,  (of  whose 
existence,  if  they  would  but  think  a  while,  they  might  be 
most  infallibly  assured,)  or  go  about  to  subvert  the  foun- 
dations of  religion.  Or,  if  they  would  get  themselves  glory 
by  great  adventures,  or  show  themselves  brave  men  by 
expressing  a  fearless  contempt  of  divine  power  and  justice ; 
this  fortitude  is  not  human.  These  are  without  the  com- 
pass of  its  object  ;£  as  inundations,  earthquakes,  &c.,  are 


Chap.  VI. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


45 


said  to  be,  unto  which,  that  any  one  should  fearlessly  ex- 
pose himself,  can  bring  no  profit  to  others,  nor  therefore 
glory  to  him. 

In  all  this  harangue  of  discourse,  the  design  hath  not 
been  to  fix  upon  any  true  cause  of  atheism,  but  to  repre- 
sent it  a  strange  thing;  and  an  atheist,  a  prodigjs  a  mon- 
ster, amongst  mankind;  a  dreadful  spectacle,  forsaken  of 
the  common  aids  afforded  to  other  men  ;  hnng  up  in  chains 
to  warn  others,  and  let  them  see  what  a  horrid  creature 
man  may  make  himself  by  voluntary  aversion  from  God 
that  made  him. 

In  the  meantime,  they  upon  whom  this  dreadful  plague 
is  not  fallen,  may  plainly  see  before  them  the  object  of 
that  worship  which  is  imported  by  a  temple — an  existing 
Deity,  a  God  to  be  worshipped.  Unto  whom  we  shall 
yet  see  further  reason  to  design  and  consecrate  a  temple 
for  that  end,  and  even  ourselves  to  become  such,  when  we 
have  considered  what  comes  next  to  be  spoken  of:  his 
conversableness  with  men. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

what  is  intended  by  God's  conversableness  witli  men,  considered  only  as  run- 
damental  and  presupposed  to  a  temple.  An  account  of  the  Epicurean  deity. 
Its  existence  impossible  any  way  to  be  proved,  if  it  did  exist.  Nor  can  be 
affirmed  to  any  good  intent.  That  such  a  being  is  not  God.  That  the  abso- 
lute perfection  proved  of  God  represents  him  a  fit  object  of  religion.  From 
thence  more  particularly  deduced  to  this  purpose.  His  omnisciency,  omnipo- 
tency,  unlimited  goodness,  immensity.  Curcclla;us's  arguments  against  tiiis 
last  considered. 

I.  Nor  is  the  thing  here  intended  less  nece-ssary  to  a 
temple  and  religion  than  what  we  have  hitherto  been  dis- 
coursing of  For  such  a  sort  of  deity  as  should  shut  up 
itself,  and  be  reclused  from  all  converse  with  men,  would 
leave  us  asdisfumished  of  an  object  of  religion,  and  would 
render  a  temple  on  earth  as  vain  a  thing,  as  if  there  were 
none  at  all.  It  were  a  being  not  to  be  worshipped,  nor 
with  any  propriety  to  be  called  God,  more  (in  some  re- 
spect less)  than  an  image  or  statue.  We  might  with  as 
rational  design  worship  for  a  god  what  were  scarce  worthy 
to  be  called  the  shadow  of  a  man,  as  dedicate  temples  to  a 
wholly  unconversable  deity.  That  is,  such  a  one  as  not 
only  will  not  vouchsafe  to  convei-se  with  men,  but  that 
cannot  admit  it ;  or  whose  nature  were  altogether  incapa- 
ble of  such  converse. 

For  that  measure  and  latitude  of  sense  must  be  allowed 
unto  the  expression,  [conversableness  with  men,]  as  that 
it  signify  both  capacity  and  propension  to  such  converse  : 
that  God  is  both  by  his  nature  capable  of  it,  and  hath  a 
gracious  inclination  of  will  thereunto.  Yea  and  we  will 
add,  (what  is  also  not  without  the  compass  of  our  present 
theme,  nor  the  import  of  this  word  whereby  we  generally 
express  it,)  that  he  is  not  only  inclined  to  converse  with 
men,  but  that  he  actually  doth  it.  As  we  call  him  a  con- 
versable person  that  upon  all  befitting  occasions  doth  freely 
converse  with  such  as  have  any  concern  with  him.  It  will 
indeed  be  necessary  to  distinguish  God's  converse  with 
men,  into  That  which  he  hath  in  common  with  «//??ic?(.,  so 
as  to  sustain  them  in  their  beings,  and  some  way  influence 
their  actions ;  (in  which  kind  he  is  also  conversant  with 
all  his  creatures ;}  and  That  which  he  more  peculiarly 
hath  with  good  men. 

And  though  the  consideration  of  the  latter  of  these  Avill 
belong  to  the  discourse  concerning  his  temple  itself  which 
he  hath  with  and  in  them ;  yet  it  is  the  former  only  we 
have  now  to  consider  as  presupposed  thereto,  and  as  the 
ground  thereof;  together  with  his  gracious  propension  to 
the  latter  also. 

As  the  great  apostle,  in  his  discourse  at  Athens,  lavs 
the  same  ground  for  acquaintance  with  God,  (which  he 
intimates  should  be  set  afoot  and  continued  in  another 
sort  of  temple  than  is  made  with  hands,)  that  he  hath  given 
to  all  breath  and  being  and  all  things,  and  that  he  i.-5"near 
and  ready,  (whence  they  should  therefore  seek  him,  if 
haply  they  might  feel  after  him,  and  find  him  out,)  in 
order  to  further  converse.  And  here,  our  business  will 
have  the  less  in  it  of  labour  and  difficulty ;  for  that  we 

a  Ac   designare  quidem  non  licet  quibus  in  locis  Dii  degant.     Cum  ne 


shall  have  little  else  to  do,  besides  only  the  applying  of 
principles  already  asserted  (or  po.ssibly  the  moie  express 
adding  of  some  or  other  that  were  implied  in  what  hath 
been  said)  to  this  purpose.  From  which  principles  it  will 
appear,  that  he  nui  only  can,  but  that  in  the  former  sense 
he  doth,  converse  with  men,  and  is  graciously  inclined 
thereto  in  the  latter.  And  yet  because  the  former  is  more 
deeply  fimdamental,  as  whereon  all  depends,  and  that  the 
act  of  it  is  not  denied  for  any  other  reason  than  an  ima- 
gined impos.sibilit}' ;  that  is,  it  is  not  said  he  doth  not  sus 
tain  and  govern  the  world  upon  any  other  pretence,  but 
that  he  cannot,  as  being  inconsiMent  with  his  nature  and 
felicity.  This  we  shall  therefore  more  directly  apply  our- 
selves to  evince.  That  his  nature  doth  not  disallow  it,  but 
necessarily  includes  an  aptitude  theieto. 

Nor  yet,  though  it  may  be  a  less  laborious  work  than 
the  former  that  we  have  despatched,  is  it  altogether  need- 
less to  deal  somewhat  more  expressly  in  this  matter , 
inasmuch  as  what  opposition  hath  been  made  to  religion 
in  the  world,  hath  for  the  most  part  been  more  expressly 
directed  against  this  ground  of  it.  I  say  more  expressly ; 
for  indeed  by  plain  and  manifest  consequence  it  impugns 
that  also  of  God's  existence  :  that  is,  through  this  it  strikes 
at  the  other.  For  surely  (howsoever  any  may  arbitrarily, 
and  with  what  impropriety  and  latitude  of  .speech  they 
please,  bestow  titles  and  eulogies  here  or  there)  that  being 
is  not  God,  that  cannot  converse  with  men,  supposing 
them  such  as  what  purely  and  peculiarly  belongs  to  the 
nature  of  man  would  bespeak  them.  So  that  they  who 
have  imagined  such  a  being,  and  been  pleased  to  call  it 
God,  have  at  once  said  and  unsaid  the  same  thing.  That 
deity  was  but  a  creature,  and  that  only  of  their  own  fancy  ; 
and  they  have  by  the  same  breath  blown  up  and  blasted 
their  own  bubble,  made  it  seem  something  and  signify 
nothing:  have  courted  it  into  being,  and  rioted  it  again 
quite  out  of  it.  In  their  conceit,  created  it  a  god  ;  in  their 
practice,  a  mere  nullity.  And  it  equally  served  their  turn, 
and  as  much  favoured  the  design  of  being  wicked,  to  ac- 
knowledge only  a  god  they  could  imagine  and  dis-imagine 
at  their  own  pleasure,  as  to  have  acknowledged  none  at 
all.  It  could  do  no  prejudice  to  their  aflairs  to  admit  of 
this  fictitious  deity,  that  the}'  could  make  be  what  or 
where  they  pleased  ;  that  should  afi'ect  ease  and  pleasure, 
and  (lest  his  pleasure  and  theirs  should  interfere)  that 
they  could  confine  to  remote  territories,  and  oblige  to 
keep  at  an  obedient  and  untroublesome  distance.  Nor, 
though  no  imagination  could  be  more  madly  extravagant 
than  that  of  a  God  no  way  concerned  in  the  forming  and 
governing  of  the  world  ;  and  notwithstanding  whom,  men 
might  take  their  liberty  to  do  what  they  listed  ;  yet  (as 
hath  been  observed  long  ago,  that  no  opinion  was  ever  so 
monstrously  absurd,  as  not  to  be  owned  by  some  of  the 
philosopher's)  hath  not  this  wanted  patronage,  and  even 
among  them  who  have  obtained  to  he  esteemed  (not  to 
say  idolized)  under  that  name.  Which  would  be  seen,  if 
it  were  worth  the  while  to  trouble  the  reader  with  an  ac- 
count of  the  Epicurean  deity.  As  it  can  only  be  with 
this  design,  that  the  representation  may  render  it  (as  it 
cannot  but  do)  ridiculous  to  sober  men  ;  and  discover  to 
the  rest  the  vanitj^  of  their  groundless  and  self-contradict- 
ing hope,  (still  too  much  fostered  in  the  breasts  of  not  a 
few.)  who  promise  themselves  impunity  in  the  most  licen- 
tious course  of  wickedness,  upon  the  security  only  of  this 
their  own  idle  dream.  That  is,  if  there  be  a  God,  (which 
the}'  reckon  it  not  so  plausible  flatly  to  deny,)  he  is  a 
being  of  either  so  dull  and  phlegmatic  a  temper  that  he 
cannot  be  concerned  in  the  actions  and  aflairs  of  men.  or 
so  soft  and  easy  that  he  will  not.  But  because  his  good 
will  alone  was  not  so  safely  to  be  relied  on,  it  was  thought 
the  securer  way  not  to  let  it  be  in  his  power  to  intermed- 
dle with  their  concernments.  And  therefore  being  to  frame 
their  own  Gtt)d,  to  their  own  turn,  thus  the  matter  was  of 
old  contrived. 

First,  Great  care  was  taken.  That  he  be  set  at  a  di.s. 
tance  remote  enough  ;  that  he  be  complimented  oiu  of  this 
world,  as  a  pkice  loo  mean  for  his  reception,  and  unwor> 
thy  such  a  presence  ;  they  being  indeed  unconcerned 
where  J*e^fcad  his  residence,  so  it  were*  not  too-near  them. 

nostor  quidem  hie  mundus,  digiia  sit  illonmi  sedes.- Phil.  Epicur.  S>-ntaf. 


46 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  I. 


So  that  a  confinement  of  him  somewhere,  was  thought 
altogether  necessaay. 

Secondly,  And  then,  with  the  same  pretence  of  great 
observance  and  respect,  it  is  judged  too  great  a  trouble  to 
him,  and  inconsistent  with  the  felicity  of  his  nature  and 
being,  that  he  should  have  given  himself  any  diversion  or 
disturbance,  by  making  the  world  ;  from  the  care  and  la- 
bour whereof  "he  is  with  all  ceremony  to  be  excused,  it 
being  too  painful  and  laborious  an  undertaking  lor  an  im- 
mortal and  a  happy  being.  Besides  tliat  he  was  altogether 
destitute  of  instruments  and  utensils  requisite  to  so  great 
a  performance. b 

Whence  also.  Thirdly,'^  He  was  with  the  same  reason 
to  be  excused  of  all  the  care  and  encumbrance  of  govern- 
ment; as  indeed,  what  right  or  pretence  could  he  have  to 
the  government  of  a  world  that  chose  him  not,  which  is 
not  his  inheritance,  and  which  he  never  made  1  But  all  is 
very  plausibly  shadowed  over  with  a  great  appearance  of 
reverence  and  veneration,  with  magnificent  elogies  of  his 
never-interrupted  felicity  ;  whence  also  it  is  made  a  very 
great  crime  not  to  free  even  the  divine  nature  itself  from 
business :  though  yet  the  true  ground  and  root  of  this 
Epicurean  faith  doth  sometime  more  apparently  discover 
itself,  even  an  impatiency  of  the  divine  government,  and 
a  regret  of  that  irksome  bondage  which  the  acknowledg- 
ment of  a  Deity,  that  were  to  be  feared  by  men,  would  infer 
upon  them. 

And  therefore.  Fourthly,  He  is  further  expressly  asserted 
to  be  such  as  need  not  be  feared,  as  cares  not  to  be  wor- 
shipped, as  with  whom  neither  anger  nor  favour  hath  any 
place.  So  that  nothing  more  of  duty  is  owing  to  him  than 
a  certain  kind  of  arbitrary  veneration,  which  we  give  to 
any  thing  or  person  that  we  apprehend  to  excel  us,  and  to 
be  in  some  respect  better  than  ourselves:  an  observance 
merely  upon  courtesy.  But  obedience  and  subjection  to 
his  government,  fear  of  his  displeasure,  expectation  of  his 
favour  and  benefits,  have  no  place  left  ihcra.  We  are  not 
obliged  to  worship  him  as  one  with  whom  we  have  any 
concern,  and  do  owe  him  no  more  homage  than  we  have 
to  the  Great  Mogul,  or  the  Cham  of  Tartary,  and  indeed 
are  less  liable  to  his  severity,  or  capable  of  liis  favours, 
than  theirs ;  for  of  theirs,  we  are  in  some  remote  possi- 
bility, of  his,  in  none  at  all.  In  one  word,  all  converse 
between  him  and  man,  on  his  part  by  providence,  and  on 
ours  by  religion,  is  quite  cut  off.  Which  evidently  appears 
(from  what  hath  been  already  collected  out  of  his  own 
words,  and  theirs  who  pretended  to  speak  that  so  admired 
author's  mind  and  sense)  to  be  the  scope  and  sum  of  the 
Epicurean  doctrine,  in  this  matter;  and  was  indeed  ob- 
served to  be  so  long  ago,  by  one  that  we  suppose  to  have 
had  better  opportunitj'  and  advantages  to  know  it,  than 
we  :  who,  discoursing  that  a  man  cannot  live  pleasantly, 
according  to  the  principles  of  Epicurus  ;  and  that  accord- 
ing to  his  doctrine  beasts  are  more  happy  than  men  ; 
plainly  gives  thisd  reason  why  he  says  so,  viz:  that  the 
Epicureans  took  away  providence,  and  that  the  design  of 
their  discoursing  concerning  God  w^as,  that  we  might  not 
fear  him. 

Unto  which  purpose  also  much  more  may  be  seen  in  the 
same  author  elsewhere,  when  he  more  directly  pleads 
(among  divers  more  philosophical  subjects)  on  behalf  of 
religion  against  the  Epicurean  doctrine,  which''  he  saith 
they  leave  to  us  in  word  and  sliow^  but  by  their  principles 
take  away  indeed,  as  they  do  nature  and  the  soul,  &c. 

It  is  then  out  of  question,  that  the  doctrine  of  Epicurus 
utterly  takes  away  all  intercourse  between  God  and  man. 
Which  yet  were  little  worth  our  notice  or  consideration, 

b  —nQcta  (pvaii  Trpog  raxira  nTi?iafir]  TTp'ioa)  caOoi,  nXXff  aXfiroti/jj  ijroj 
iiiiTrp-taOu),  Km  cv  rqi  traiyri'  i^otKnpiojriTt.    Laertiiis,  I.  10. 

QiiSB  molilio,  qii«  forramcnta,  qui  vectes,  qiisB  machinae,  qui  ministri  tanti 
munerjs  tuenint?     Veil,  apud,  Cieer.  de  Natvra  Deoru7n. 

c  Nihil  beating,  nihil  omninoboni-iomniliusartluentius  excogitari  potest.  Niliil 
eniiii  agit,  nullisoccupationibus  est  impticatus,  &c.  Id.  Oraf,rrii'  Qciav  ^vaiv 
pn  \:'Tovpytoiv  airoXocoatv.  Laert.  ihld.  Itaiiue  iniposui.sfis  cer\'ieibus  nos- 
fri.i  serajiitemum  dominum.  quern,  dies  et  noctes,  timerennis.  Uuis  enim  ik)ii 
timeat  omnia  providentem,  et  coj-Ttantem,  et  animadveiteMtem,  et  omnia  ad  se 
pertinere  putantem,  curiosum  et  plenum  negotii  Deuin  Veil,  ubi  mpra.  Hu- 
mana ante  oculos  frede  cum  vita  iaceret.  In  tenis  opprcssa  gravi  sub  relijione 
Primum  Grains  homo  (ineaninsr  Epicurus,  t)ie  first  ehampion  nf  irreli^ion.) 
Lucret  To  lohich  purpose  be.iidesiohatioehaveinLacrt.  To  pUKcpiov 
Kai  a<p6apT0v,  ovtc  avro  irpaypara  c:\ci,  ovre  nAAoii  Traptxei  wr^  ovre 
opyaig,  ovre  \iip((Ti  avvcYerai'  tv  afxdevsi  yap  irav  to  Totovrav,  I.  10.  Mvch 
more  is  collected  in  the  SyntaiTm.  Nam  et  pnesfans  Deomm  natura  homi- 
num  pietate  cojeretur,  cum  isterna  esset  et  Iwatissima.  Habit  enim  venera- 
'.oueui  JHStani  q'licguid  exeellit.     El  raetus  omnis,  a  vi  atque  ira  Deonmi  pulsus 


nor  would  it  answer  any  valuable  end  or  purpose  to  revive 
the  mention  of  such  horrid  opinions,  or  tell  the  world 
what  such  a  one  said  or  thought  two  thousand  years  ago; 
if  their  grave  had  been  faithful  to  its  trust,  and  had  retain- 
ed their  filthy  poisonous  savour  within  its  own  unhallowed 
cell. 

But  since  (against  what  were  so  much  to  have  been  de- 
sired, that  their  womb  might  have  been  their  grave)  their 
grave  becomes  their  womb,  where  they  are  conceived,  and 
formed  anew,  and  whence  by  a  second  birth  they  spring 
forth  afresh,  to  the  great  annoyance  of  the  world,  the  de- 
bauching and  endangering  of  mankind  ;  and  that  it  is  ne- 
cessary some  remedy  be  endeavoured  of  so  mortal  an  evil, 
it  was  also  convenient  to  run  it  up  to  its  original,  and  con- 
tend against  it  as  in  its  primitive  state  and  vigour. 

Wherefore  this  being  a  true  (though  it  be  a  very  short) 
account  of  the  Epicurean  god,  resulting  all  into  this  shorter 
sura,  That  he  is  altogether  unconversable  wiih  men,  (and 
such  therefore  as  cannot  inhabit  their  temple,  and  for 
whom  they  can  have  no  obligation  or  rational  design  to 
provide  an)^,)  it  will  be  requisite  in  reference  hereto,  and 
suitable  to  our  present  scope  and  purpose,  severally  to 
evince  these  things: — L  That  the  existence  of  such  a 
being  as  this  were  impossible  ever  to  be  proved  unto  men, 
if  it  did  exist — 2.  That  being  supposed  without  any  good 
ground,  it  is  equally  unimaginable  that  the  supposition  of 
it  can  intend  any  valuable  or  good  end — 3.  That  this 
supposed  being  cannot  be  God,  and  is  most  abusively  so 
called ;  as  hereby,  the  true  God,  the  Cause  and  Author 
of  ail  things,  is  intended  to  be  excluded — 4.  That  it  be- 
longs to,  and  may  be  deduced  from,  the  true  notion  of 
God  which  ha(h  been  given,  (and  proved  by  parts  of  a 
really  existent  Being,)  that  he  is  such  as  can  converse 
with  men. 

For  the  first.  That  there  is  no  way  to  prove  the  existence 
ofsuch  a  being,  is  evident.  For  what  ways  of  proving  it 
can  be  thought  of,  which  the  supposition  itself  doth  not 
forbid  and  reject  1  Is  it  to  be  proved  by  revelation  'I  But 
that  supposes  converse  with  men,  and  destroys  what  it 
should  prove,  that  such  a  being,  having  no  converse  with 
men,  doth  exist.  And  where  is  that  revelation"?  Is  it 
written  or  unwritten  ;  or  who  are  its  vouchers  ?  Upon 
what  authority  doth  it  rest  1  Who  was  appointed  to  inform 
the  world  in  this  matter  1  Was  Epicurus  himself  the 
common  oracle  1  Why  did  he  never  tell  men  so  ?  Did  he 
ever  pretend  to  have  seen  any  of  these  his  vogued  gods  1 
No,  they  are  confessed  not  to  be  liable  to  our  sense,  any 
more  than  the  inane  itself.  And  what  miracles  did  he  ever 
work  to  confirm  the  truth  of  his  doctrine  in  this  matter! 
Which  sure  was  reasonably  to  be  expected  from  one  who 
would  gain  credit  to  dictates  so  contrary  to  the  common 
sentiments  of  the  rest  of  mankind,  and  that  were  not  to 
be  proved  any  other  way.  And  what  other  way  can  be 
devised?  Can  it  admit  of  rational  demonslration  ?  What 
shall  be  the  medium  1  Shall  it  be  from  the  cause?  But 
what  cause  can  (or  ever  did)  he  or  his  followers  assign  of 
God?  Or  from  eflTects?  And  what  shall  they  be,  when  the 
matter  of  the  whole  universe  is  supposed  ever  to  have 
been  of  itself,  and  the  particular  frame  of  every  thing 
made  thereof,  to  have  resulted  only  of  the  casual  coalition 
of  the  parts  of  that  matter,  and  mj  real  being  is  supposed 
besides  1  Or  shall  it  be  that  their  idea,  which  they  have  of 
God,  includes  existence,  as  so  belonging  to  him  that  he 
cannot  but  exist  1  But  by  what  right  do  they  aflix  snch 
an  idea  to  their  petite  and  fictitious  deities'?  How  will 
they  prove  their  idea  true  1  Or  are  we  bound  to  take  their 
words  for  it  1     Yea  it  is  easily  proved  false,  and  repugnant 

essot.  Iiitellisitur  enim  a  beata  immortalique  natura,  et  iram  et  ^atiam  se- 
grcgan.  Qnilnis  remotis.  nullos  a  snpcris  imptnderc  motus,  &c.  Sect.  1.  cap  3. 
An  et  muiiduni  fecit,  et  in  mundo  homines  ut  ab  liominibus  coleretur?  At  quid 
Deo  cultus  hominum  conlert,  beato,  et  nulla  re  indigent!.     Sect.  2  cap.  3. 

d  Ku'  Toicipd'cv  Tr]i  vpo\r}ipci  Tovdcov  rriv  irpovotav antXiroii,  ediaii/ovTO 
ap  e^mai  xpt^iiS  vXcov  exovrcs  at  (bpovipoi  tmv  8ripic>v  npof  to  riftioi 
Criv ;  eirei  fc  tcXoj  r]v  tov  rrcpi  Qcmv  Xoyoii,  to  prj  (po/HecaOai  6eof,  aWa 
TtavaaaOai  -npaTToptvovi,  lief^aiortpov  oipai  tovto,  &c.    Plut. 

e  Advcrsus  Colotem.  11  ws  ovv  aTroXctnovat  tpvtriv  Kat  i}^v\rii>  xat  ^<ooi>; 
cos  opKOV,  (OS  svxriv,  (OS  dvataii,  (OS  TTpO(TKVi>r]aiv,  prjpart  Kat  Xo}  oil,  nat  r(oi 
(pauat  Kat  wpoairottKrQnt  Kat  ovopat,civ,  a  rais  ap\ats  Kat  roii  ioypaatv 
avaipovatv.  Unto  which  purpo.se  is  that  also  in  Ttilly.  Atetiamdesancti- 
tate,  de  pietate  adversus  Deos  libros  scripsit  Epicurus.  Ad  qnomodn  in  his  lo- 
quitur? ut  Conmcanium  aut  Scaivolam  Pontifices  ma.vimos  teaudire  dicasnon 
eum.  nni  subtulerit  omnem  funditus  relisionem  :  Nee  manilnis  ut  Xerxes,  sed 
rationitms  Templa  Deorum  et  aras  everterit.    Dt  Natura  Deorum. 


Chap.  VI. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


47 


to  itself,  while  they  would  have  that  to  be  necessarily- 
existent  (as  they  must  if  they  will  have  it  existent  at  all, 
unto  which,  in  the  meantime,  they  deny  the  other  perfec- 
tions which  necessar)'' existence  hath  been  proved  to  include. 
But  how  vain  and  idle  trifling  is  it,  arbitrarily  and  by  a 
random  fancy  to  imagine  any  thing  what  we  please,  and 
attributing  of  our  own  special  grace  Euid  favour  necessary 
existence  to  it,  thence  to  conclude  that  it  doth  exist,  only 
because  we  have  been  pleased  to  make  that  belong  to  the 
notion  of  it  ?  What  so  odd  and  uncouth  composition  can 
we  form  any  conception  of,  which  we  may  not  make  exist, 
at  this  rale  1 

But  the  notion  of  God  is  not  arbitrary,  but  is  natural, 
proleptical,  and  common  to  men,  impressed  upon  the  minds 
of  all :  whence  they  say  it  ought  not  to  be  drawn  into  con- 
troversy. What!  thef  Epicurean  notion  of  him  1  We 
shall  inquire  further  into  that  anon.  And  in  the  mean- 
time need  not  doubt  to  say,  any  man  might  with  as  good 
pretence  imagine  the  ridiculous  sort  of  gods  described  in 
Cicero's  ironical  supposition,  and  affirm  them  to  exist,  as 
they  those  they  have  thought  fit  to  feign,  and  would  impose 
upon  the  belief  of  men.  And  when  they  have  fancied 
these  to  exist,  is  not  that  a  mighty  proof  that  they  indeed 
do  so  1  But  that  which  for  the  present  we  allege,  is,  that 
supposing  their  notion  were  ever  so  absolutely  universal 
and  agreeing  with  the  common  sentiments  of  all  other  men, 
they  have  yet  precluded  themselves  of  any  right  to  argue. 
from  its  commonness,  to  the  existence  of  the  thing  itself 
Nor  can  they  upon  their  principles  form  an  argument 
hence,  that  shall  conclude  or  signify  any  thing  to  this  pur- 
pose." None  can  be  drawn  hence,  that  will  conclude  im- 
mediately, and  itself  reach  the  mark,  without  the  addition 
of  some  further  thing,  which  so  ill  sorts  with  the  rest  of 
their  doctrine,  that  it  would  subvert  the  whole  frame.  That 
is,  it  follows  not,  that  because  men  generally  hold  that 
there  is  a  God,  that  therefore  there  is  one ;  otherwise  than 
as  that  consequence  can  be  justified  by  this  plain  and  irre- 
fragable proof — That  no  reason  can  be  devised  of  so  gene- 
ral an  agreement,  or  of  that  so  common  an  impression 
upon  the  minds  of  men,  but  this  only  ;  that  it  must  have 
proceeded  from  one  common  cause,  viz.  God  himself; 
who  having  made  man  so  prime  a  part  of  his  creation, 
hath  stamped  with  his  own  signature  this  nobler  piece  of 
his  workmanship,  and  purposely  made  and  framed  him  to 
the  acknowledgment  and  adoration  of  his  Maker. 

But  how  shall  they  argue  so,  who,  while  they  acknow- 
ledge a  God,  deny  man  to  be  his  creature,  and  will  have 
him  and  all  things  to  be  by  chance,  or  without  dependence 
on  any  Maker?  What  can  an  impression  infer  to  this 
purpose,  that  comes  no  one  can  tell  whence  or  how ;  but 
is  plainly  denied  to  be  from  him,  whose  being  they  would 
argue  from  it  1 

The  observation  of  so  common  an  apprehension  in  the 
minds  of  men,  might  (upon  their  supposition)  beget  much 
wonder,  but  no  knowledge  ;  and  may  perplex  men  much, 
how  such  a  thing  should  come  to  pass,  without  making 
them  any  thing  the  wiser  ;  and  would  infer  astonishment, 
sooner  than  a  good  conclusion,  or  than  it  would  solidly 
prove  any  important  truth.  And  do  they  think  they  have 
salved  the  business,  ^.nd  given  us  a  satisfying  account  of" 
this  matter,  by  telling  us,  This  impression  is  from  nature, 
as  they  speak  1  It  were  to  be  -wished  some  of  them  had 
told  us,  or  could  yet  tell  us,  what  they  meant  by  nature. 
Is  it  any  intelligent  principle,  or  was  it  guided  by  any  such  1 
If  yea,  whence  came  this  impression,  but  from  God  him- 
self? For  surely  an  intelligent  Being,  that  could  have  this 
universal  influence  upon  the  minds  of  all  men,  is  much 
liker  to  be  God  than  the  imaginary  entities  they  talk  of, 
that  are  bodies,  and  no  bodies,  have  blood,  and  no  blood, 
members,  and  no  members,  are  some  where,  and  no  where ; 
or  if  they  be  any  where,  are  confined  to  some  certain  places 
remote  enough  from  our  world  ;  with  the  affairs  whereof, 
or  any  other,  they  cannot  any  way  concern  themselves, 
without  quite  undoing  and  spoiling  their  felicity.  If  they 
say  No,  and  that  nature,  which  put  this  stamp  upon  the 
minds  of  men,  is  an  utterly  unintelligent  thing,  nor  was 
ever  governed  by  any  thing  wiser  than  itself— strange  !  that 
blind    and    undesigning    nature   should,  without    being 

f  Deos,  Strabones,  psetiilos,  n»\'um  habeiUes,  silos,  flaccos,  frontones, 
CApitones.— De  Natura  Deorum,  I.  l. 


prompted,  become  thus  ignorantly  ofl^cious  to  these  idle, 
voluptuary  godlings ;  and  should  so  efiectually  take  course 
they  might  be  known  to  the  world,  who  no  way  ever 
obliged  it,  nor  were  ever  like  to  do  !  But  to  regress  a 
little,  fain  I  would  know  what  is  this  thing  they  call  na- 
ture 1  Is  it  any  thing  else  than  the  course  and  inclination 
of  conspiring  atoms,  which  singly  are  not  pretended  to 
bear  any  such  impres.sion  ;  but  as  they  luckily  club  and 
hit  together,  in  the  composition  of  a  human  soul,  by  the 
merest  and  strangest  chance  that  ever  happened  1  But 
would  we  ever  regard  what  they  say  whom  we  believe  to 
speak  by  chance  ?  Were  it  to  be  supposed  that  characters 
and  words  serving  to  make  up  some  proposition  or  other, 
were  by  some  strange  agitation  of  wind  and  waves  impressed 
and  figured  on  the  sand;  would  we,  if  we  really  believed 
the  matter  came  to  pass  only  by  such  an  odd  cas'ualty, 
think  that  proposition  any  whit  the  truer  for  being  there, 
or  take  this  for  a  demonstration  of  its  truth,  any  more  than 
if  we  had  seen  it  in  a  ballad  1  Because  men  have  casu- 
ally come  to  think  so,  therefore  there  are  such  beings,  (to 
be  called  gods,)  between  whom  and  them  there  never  was 
or  shall  be  any  intercourse  or  mutual  concern.  It  follows 
as  -tvell,  a.s  that  because  the  staff  stands  in  the  comer,  the 
morrow  will  be  a  rainy  day.  The  dictates  of  nature  are 
indeed  most  regardable  things  taken  as  expressions  of  his 
mind,  or  emanations  from  him,  who  is  the  Author  and  God 
of  nature:  but  abstracted  from  him,  they  are  and  signify 
as  much  as  a  beam  cut  off  from  the  body  of  the  sun ;  or  a 
person  that  pretends  himself  an  ambassador,  without  cre- 
dentials. 

Indeed,  (as  is  imported  in  the  words  noted  from  that 
graves  pagan  a  little  before,)  the  principles  of  these  men 
destro}'^  quite  nature  itself,  as  well  as  every  thing  of  reli- 
gion ;  and  leave  us  the  names  and  show  of  them,  but  take 
away  the  things  themselves.  In  sum,  though  there  be  no 
such  impression  upon  the  minds  of  men  as  tliat  which  they 
talk  of,  yet  if  there  were,  no  such  thing  can  be  inferred 
from  it,  as  they  would  infer ;  their  principles  taking  away 
all  connexion  between  the  argument,  and  what  they  would 
argue  by  it. 

2.  We  have  also  too  much  reason  to  add,  That  as  the 
supposition  of  such  a  being,  or  sort  of  beings,  can  have  no 
sufficient  ground  ;  so  it  is  equally  unconceivable  that  it 
can  be  intended  for  any  good  end.  Not  that  we  think  the 
last  assertion  a  .sufficient  sole  proof  of  this  ;  for  we  easily 
acknowledge  that  it  is  possible  enough,  men  may  harm- 
lessly and  with  innocent  intentions  attempt  the  building 
very  weighty  and  important  truths  upon  weak  and  insufii- 
cient  foundations;  hoping  they  have  offered  that  as  a  sup- 
port unto  truth,  which  proves  only  a  useless  cumber.  Nor 
were  it  just  to  impute  treachery,  where  there  is  ground  for 
the  more  charitable  censure,  that  the  misadventure  pro- 
ceeded only  from  want  of  judgment  and  shortness  of 
discourse.  But  it  is  neither  needful  nor  seemly,  that 
charit}'  which  can  willingly  wink  in  some  cases,  should 
therefore  be  quite  blind ;  or  that  no  difference  should  be 
made  of  well-meant  mistakes,  and  mischief  thinly  hid  and 
covered  over  with  specious  pretences.  And  let  it  be  so- 
berly considered,  what  can  the  design  be,  after  the  cashier- 
ing of  all  solid  grounds  for  the  proving  of  a  Deity,  at 
length  to  acknowledge  it  upon  none  at  all  ?  As  if  their 
acknowledgment  must  owe  itself  not  to  their  reason,  but 
their  courtesy.  And  when  they  have  done  what  they  can 
to  make  the  rest  of  men  believe  they  have  no  need  to  own 
any  God  at  all,  and  they  can  tell  how  all  tliai  concerns  the 
making  and  governing  the  world  may  well  enough  be  des- 
patched without  any,  yet  at  last  they  will  be  so  generous 
as  to  be  content  there  shall  be  one,  however.  What,  I  say, 
can  the  design  of  this  be,  that  they  who  have  contended 
with  all  imaginable  obstinacy  against  the  most  plain  and 
convincing  evidences,  that  do  even  defy  cavil  ;  have  quite 
fought  themselves  blind,  and  lost  their  eyes  in  the  en- 
counter ;  so  that  they  at-e  ready  to  swear  the  sun  is  a  clod 
of  dirt,  and  noon-day  light  is  to  them  the  very  blackness 
of  darkness  1  They  cannot  see  a  Deity  encircling  them 
with  the  brightest  beams,  and  shining  upon  them  with  the 
most  conspicuous  glory  through  every  thing  that  occurs, 
and  all  things  that  encompass  them  on  every  side.    And 

e  Plut&rcb. 


48 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  I. 


yet  when  all  is  done,  and  llieir  thnnder-sinick  eyes  make 
them  fancy  they  have  put  out  the  sun ;  they  have  won 
the  day,  have  cleared  the  field,  and  are  absolute  victors  ; 
they  have  vanquished  the  whole  })ower  of  their  most 
dreaded  enemy,  the  light  that  reveals  God  in  his  works — 
after  all  this,  without  any  inducement  at  all,  and  having 
triumphed  over  every  thing  that  looked  like  an  argument 
to  prove  it,  they  vouchsafe  to  say  however,  of  their  own 
accord.  There  is  a  God.  Surely  if  this  have  any  design  at 
all,  it  must  be  a  very  bad  one.  And  see  whither  it  tends. 
They  have  now  a  god  of  their  own  making;  and  all  the 
being  he  hath,  depends  upon  their  grace  and  favour.  They 
are  not  his  creatures,  but  he  is  theirs ;  a  precarious  deity, 
that  shall  be  as  long,  and  what,  and  where,  they  please  to 
have  him.  And  if  he  displease  them,  they  can  think  him 
back  into  nothing.  Here  seems  the  depth  of  the  design. 
For  see  with  what  cautions  and  limitations  they  admit  him 
into  being.  There  shall  be  a  god,  provided  he  be  not 
meddlesome,  nor  concern  himself  in  their  affairs  to  the 
crossing  of  any  inclinations  of  humours  which  they  are 
pleased  shall  command  and  govern  their  lives  ;  being  con- 
scious that  if  they  admit  of  any  at  all  that  shall  have  to  do 
with  their  concernments,  he  cannot  but  be  such  as  the 
ways  they  resolve  on  will  displease.  Their  very  shame 
will  not  permit  them  to  call  that  God,  which  if"  he  take 
any  cognizance  at  all  of  their  course  will  not  dislike  it. 
And  herein  that  they  may  be  the  more  secure,  they  judge 
it  the  most  prudent  course,  not  to  allow  him  anypart  or 
interest  in  the  affairs  of  the  world  at  all. 

Yet  all  this  while  they  court  him  at  a  great  rate,  and  all 
religion  is  taken  away  under  pretence  of  great  piety  :  Avor- 
ship  they  believe  he  cares  not  for,  because  he  is  full  and 
needs  nothing.  In  this  Avorld  he  must  not  be,  for  it  is  a 
place  unworthy  of  him.  He  must  have  had  no  hand  in 
framing,  nor  can  they  think  fit  he  should  have  anv  in  the 
government  of  it.  For  it  would  be  a  great  disturbance  to 
him,  and  interrupt  his  pleasures.  The  same  thing  as  if 
certain  licentious  cour.tiers,  impatient  of  being  governed, 
should  address  themselves  to  their  prince  in  such  a  form 
of  speech,  that  it  is  beneath  him  to  receive  any  homage 
from  them,  it  would  too  much  debase  majesty ;  that  his 
dominions  afford  no  place  fit  for  his  residence,  and  there- 
fore it  would  be  convenient  for  him  to  betake  himself  into 
some  other  country,  that  hath  better  air  and  accommoda- 
tion for  delight;  that  diadems  and  sceptres  are  burthen- 
some  things,  which  therefore  if  he  will  quit  to  them,  he 
may  wholly  give  up  himself  to  ease  and  pleasure. 

Yea,  and  whatsoever  would  any  way  tend  to  evince  his 
necessary  existence,  is  with  the  same  courtship  laid  aside ; 
(although  if  he  do  not  exist  necessarily  .and  of  himself,  he 
cannot  have  any  existence  at  all ;  for  as  they  do  not  allow 
him  to  be  the  cause  of  any  thing,  so  they  assign  nothing 
to  be  the  cause  of  him  ;)  that  is,  with  pretence  there  is  no 
need  it  should  be  demonstrated,  because  all  men  believe 
it  without  a  reason,  nature  having  impressed  this  belief 
upon  the  minds  of  all ;  or  (which  is  all  one)  they  having 
agreed  to  believe  it  because  they  believe.  But  though 
diey  have  no  reason  to  believe  a  Deity,  they  have  a  very 
good  one  why  they  would  seem  to  do  so,  that  they  may 
expiate  with  the  people  their  irreligion  by  a  collusive  pre- 
tending against  atheism.  And  because'they  think  it  less 
plausible  plainly  to  deny  there  is  a  God,  they  therefore 
grant  one  to  please  the  vulgar,  yet  take  care  it  shall  be 
one  as  good  as  none,  lest  otherwise  they  should  displease 
themselves :  and  so  their  credit  and  their  liberty  are  both 
cared  for  together. 

V.  But  this  covering  is  too  short,  and  the  art  by  which 
they  would  fit  it  to  their  design,  when  it  should  cheat 
others,  deceives  themselves.     For  it  is  most  evident, 

3.  That  the  being  with  the  pretended  belief  whereof 
they  would  mock  the  world,  is  no  God  ;  and  that  conse- 
quently, while  they  would  seem  to  acknowledge  a  deity, 
they  really  acknowledge  none  at  all.  Our  contest  hath 
not,  all  this  while,  been  a  strife  about  words,  or  con- 
cerning the  name,  but  the  thing  itself  And  not  whe- 
ther there  be  such  a  thing  in  being  to  which  that  name 
may,  with  whatsoever  impropriety,  be  given,  but  whether 

h  OffOl  ucv  ovv  Ta;  nOcovi  aoKovat  rtiXoaociiaf,  &e.  D.  Halicamass.  Ant. 
Rom.  I. 
i  See  their  ambassador's  oration,  in  Q  Curtius. 


there  be  such  a  being  as  whereto  it  properly  belongs : 
supposing,  and  taking  for  granted  as  a  matter  out  of  qiies- 
tion,  that  (even  in  their  own  sense)  if  such  a  being  as  we 
have  described  do  exist,  it  is  most  properly  God ;  and  that 
they  will  not  go  about  to  call  it  by  another  name  ;  or  that 
they  will  not  pretend  this  name  agrees  to  any  other  thing 
so  fitly  as  to  him.  And  because  we  have  already  proved 
this  Being  doth  exist,  and  that  there  can  be  but  one  such, 
it  plainly  follows  theirs  is  in  propriety  of  speech  (even 
though  he  did  exist)  no  God ;  and  that  much  less  should 
he  appropriate  the  name,  and  exclude  the  only  true  God. 
For  since  the  high  and  dignifying  eulogies,  which  they  are 
wont  to  bestow  upon  their  feigned  deity,  do  plainly  show 
they  would  have  it  thought  they  esteem  him  the  most  ex- 
cellent of  all  existent  beings;  if  we  have  proved  a  really 
existent  Being  to  be  more  excellent  than  he,  it  is  evident, 
even  upon  their  own  grounds,  that  this  is  God.  Hither 
the  Deity  must  be  deferred,  and  theirs  must  yield,  and 
give  out ;  inasmuch  as  we  cannot  suppose  them  so  void  of 
common  sense,  as  to  say  the  less  excellent  being  is  God, 
and  the  more  excellent  is  no  God.  But  if  they  should  be 
so,  (whereas  the  controversy  is  not  about  the  name,)  we 
have  our  main  purpose,  in  having  proved  there  is  a  Being 
actually  existent,  that  hath  all  the  real  excellences  which 
they  ascribe  to  their  deities,  and  infinitely  more.  And  as 
concerning  the  name,  who  made  them  dictators  to  all  the 
world,  and  the  sole  judges  of  the  propriety  of  words  1  or 
with  what  right  or  pretence  will  they  assume  so  much  to 
themselves,  so  as,  against  the  rest  of  the  world,  to  name 
that  God,  from  which  they  cut  off  the  principal  perfections 
wont  to  be  signified  by  that  name  1  And  if  we  speak  of 
.such  perfections  as  tend  to  infer  and  establish  religion  and 
providence,  who  but  themselves,  did  ever  call  that  God 
in  the  eminent  sense,  that  they  supposed  could  not  hear 
prayers,  and  thereupon  dispense  favours,  relieve  the  afflict- 
ed, supply  the  indigent,  and  receive  suitable  acknowledg- 
ments 1  They  indeed  (saith  a  famed  writerii  of  Roman 
history)  that  exercise  themselves  in  the  atheistical  sorts  of 
philosophy,  {if  we  may  call  that  philosophy,)  as  they  are  wont 
to  jeer  at  all  appearances  of  tlie  gods,  whether  a,mong  the 
Greeks  or  the  JBarbarians,  will  make  themselves  matter  of 
laughter  of  our  histories,  not  thinking  that  any  God  takes 
care  of  any  man. — Let  the  story  he  there  tells  shift  for  itself; 
in  the  meantime  it  appears  they  escaped  not  the  infamy  of 
atheists,  who  (whatever  deities  they  might  imagine  be- 
sides) did  deny  God's  presence,  and  regard  to  men. 
Which  sort  of  persons  he  elsewhere  of  ten  animadverts 
upon.  But  do  we  need  to  insist,  that  all  the  rest  of  the 
world  acknowledged  no  gods,  whom  they  did  not  also 
worship  1  What  meant  their  temples  and  altars,  their 
prayers  and  sacrifices  1  Or  did  they  take  him  for  God, 
whom  they  believed  to  take  no  care  of  them,  or  from  whom 
they  expected  no  advantage  1  Even  the  barbarous  Scy- 
thians themselves  vmderstood  it  most  inseparable  to  belong 
to  a  deity,  to  be  beneficent;  when  they  upbraidingly  tell 
Alexander,!  That  if  he  were  a  god,  (as  they  it  seems  had 
heard  he  vogued  himself)  he  should  bestow  benefits  upon 
men,  and  not  take  from  them  Avhat  was  their  own. 

And  by  the  way,  it  is  observable  how  contradictious 
and  repugnant  the  Epicurean  sentiments  arc  in  this,  even 
to  themselves :  that  speaking  of  friendship, u  (of  which  they 
say  many  generous  and  brave  things,)  they  gallantly  pro- 
fess (as  Plutarch  testifies  of  them)  that  it  is  a  more  pleasant 
thing  to  benefit  others  than  to  receive  benefits  oneself. 
They  yet,  while  they  seem  so  greatly  concernedi  that  their 
gods  be  every  way  most  perfectly  happy,  deny  to  them  this 
highest  and  most  excellent  part  of  felicity.  That  a  virtuous 
man  may  a  great  deal  more  benefit  the  world  than  they, 
and  consequently  have  more  pure  and  lively  relishes  of  a 
genuine  and  refined  pleasure. 

Upon  the  whole,  it  is  manifest  they  so  maim  the  notion 
of  God,  as  to  make  it  quite  another  thing.  And  if  they 
think  to  wipe  off'  any  thing  of  the  foul  and  odious  blot 
wherewith  their  avowed  irreligion  hath  stained  their  name 
and  memory,  by  the  acknowledgment  of  such  a  God ;  they 
effect  the  like  thing  by  it,  and  gain  as  much  to  the  repu- 
tation of  their  piety  as  he  should  of  his  loyalty,  who  being 


k  Lib.  lion  posse  suav-iter  \\\i,  &c. 

1  Vid.  et  lib.  maxime  cum  oriiicip.  viris  Pliil.  &c. 


Chap.  VI. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


49 


accused  of  treason  against  his  prince,  shall  think  to  vindi- 
cate himseli'  by  professing  solemnly  to  own  the  king ; 
provided  you  only  mean  by  it  the  king  of  clubs,  or  any 
such  painted  one  the  pack  affords.  But  here  it  may  be 
demanded.  Is  every  misapprehension  of  God  to  be  under- 
stood as  a  denial  of  his  being  1  If  so,  whom  can  we  un- 
dertake to  assoil  of  atheism'?  Or  who  can  certainly  acquit 
himself  1  For  how  impossible  is  it  to  be  sure  we  have  no 
untrue  conception  of  a  Being  so  infinitely,  by  our  own 
confession,  above  ail  our  thoughts'?  Or  how  is  it  to  be 
avoided,  in  somewhat  or  other,  to  think  amiss  of  so  lui- 
known  and  incomprehensibly  excellent  a  Being,  either 
by  detracting  somewhat  that  belongs  to  it,  or  attributing 
somewhat  that  belongs  not  ]  And  since  many,  we  are  sure, 
have  thought  and  spoken  unworthily  of  God,  besides 
Epicureans,  are  all  these  logo  into  the  account  of  atheists'? 
Or  whereas  it  is  commonly  wont  to  be  said.  Whatsoever 
is  in  God,  is  God:  how  can  they  who  deny  any  thing  of 
him,  which  is  really  in  him,  be  excused  of  denying  his 
whole  being'?  Or  where  will  we  fix  the  bounds  of  our 
censure'? 

Many  things  should  be  said  (if  we  will  speak  at  all)  to 
so  manifold  an  inquiry:  but  it  belongs  not  to  the  design 
of  this  discourse  to  examine  and  discuss  all  men's  senti- 
ments of  God  that  have  been  exposed  to  the  view  of  the 
world,  or  arbitrate  among  the  dissenting  parties;  much 
less  to  explain  or  abet  every  school-maxim  that  hath  refer- 
ence to  this  theme;  the  authors  or  lovers  whereof  will  be 
sufficiently  prompted  by  their  own  genius  to  do  at  least  as 
much  as  can  be  requisite  herein.  But  whatever  the  real 
sameness  is  supposed  to  be,  of  the  things  attributed  to 
God,  it  is  acknowledged  we  cannot  but  conceive  of  them 
as  divers;  and  so  that  our  conception  of  any  one  is  not 
adequate  to  the  entire  object,  which  is  confessed  incom- 
prehensible. Yet  any  one  attribute  gives  a  true  notion  of 
the  object,  so  far  as  it  reaches,  though  not  a  full.  As  I 
may  be  said  truly  to  see  a  man,  when  I  only  see  his  face, 
and  view  not  every  part  and  limb;  or  to  know  him,  while 
}'et  I  have  not  had  opportunity  to  discern  everj^  quality 
in  his  temper,  and  what  his  dispositions  and  inclinations, 
in  all  respects,  are.  Moreover,  it's  one  thing  to  deny  any 
divine  perfection,  another,  only  not  to  know  it. 

And  such  mere  nescience  is  so  far  from  being  guilty  of 
the  horrid  crime  of  atheism,  that  it's  not  so  much  as  cul- 
pable, further  than  as  it  is  obstinatelj''  persisted  in,  against 
sufficient  evidence:  for  we  are  not  obliged  to  know  everj' 
thing,  but  what  is  to  us  knowable,  and  what  we  are  con- 
cerned to  know.  Again,  (and  which  is  most  considerable 
to  our  purpose,)  we  are  not  concerned  to  know  what  God 
is  in  himself,  otherwise  than  as  we  may  thereby  knoM' 
what  he  is  in  relation  to  us,  viz.  as  he  is  the  Author  of 
our  beings,  the  Governor  of  our  lives  and  actions,  and 
thereupon  the  object  of  our  religion;  for  a  religious  respect 
unto  him  is  the  very  end  of  that  knowledge.  Now,  if  any 
other  than  that  sort  of  persons  we  oppose  have  taken  up 
apprehensions  of  him  not  so  suitable  to  that  end,  it  were 
to  be  wished  they  saw  it,  and  would  unthink  all  those 
thoughts.  But  surely,  they  who  must  professedly  contend 
against  the  very  notions  themselves  which  directly  influ- 
ence all  our  practice  toward  God,  so  considered,"  would 
suggest  such  as  are  wholly  inconsistent  therewith ;  who 
oppose  the  knowledge  of  God  to  the  end  of  that  know- 
ledge, and  do  not  merely  mistake  the  way  to  that  end 
while  they  are  aiming  at  it,  but  most  avowedly  resist  and 
disclaim  the  end  itself;  are  to  be  distinguished  from  them 
who  professedly  intend  that  same  end,  only  see  not  wherein 
their  misapprehension  are  prejudical  and  repugnant  to 
it;  otherwise  are  ready  to  reject  them.  And  the  former 
are  therefore  most  justly  to  be  singled  out,  and  designed 
the  objects  of  our  direct  opposition.  Nor  are  they  so  fitly 
to  be  opposed  under  any  other  notion,  as  that  of  atheists. 
For  since  our  knowledge  of  God  ought  chiefly  to  respect 
him  in  that  fore-mentioned  relative  consideration,  and  the 
inquiry,  What  is  God  1  signifies,  as  it  concerns  us,  What 
is  the  object  of  religion'?  they  denying  any  such  thing, 
deny  there  is  a  God.  Nor  do  they  "deny  him  in  that  re- 
lative consideration  only;  but  (as  every  relation  is  founded 
in  somewhat  that  is  absolute)  the  very  reason  of  their 
denying  him  so,  is,  that  they  deny  in  him  those  absolute 
and  positive  perfections  that  render  him  such;  as  certain 


of  those  do,  that  have  been  proved  to  belong  to  him. 
Which  is  that  we  have  next  to  consider,  viz. 

VI.  That  it  may  evidently  be  deduced  from  what  hath 
been  said,  tending  to  prove  those  things  of  God  which  are 
included  in  the  notion  of  him,  and  from  that  notion  itself, 
that  he  is  such  as  can  converse  with  men.  That  is,  having 
proved — That  there  is  an  eternal,  self-subsisting,  inde- 
pendent, necessary  Being,  of  so  great  activity,  life,  power, 
wisdom,  and  goodness,  as  to  have  been  the  Maker  of  this 
world:  and  by  this  medium — That  we  see  this  world  is 
in  being,  which  otherwise  could  never  have  been,  much  less 
such  as  we  see  it  is:  it  therefore  follows,  that  this  great 
Creator  can  have  influence  upon  the  creatures  he  hath 
made,  in  a  way  suitable  to  their  natures.  It  follows,  I 
say,  from  the  same  medium,  (the  present  visible  existence 
of  this  world,  which  could  not  olher^vise  be  now  in  being,) 
that  he  can  thus  have  influence  upon  his  creatures:  for  it 
is  hence  manifest  that  he  hath;  they  depend  on  him,  and 
are  sustained  by  him;  nor  could  more  subsist  by  them- 
selves, than  they  could  make  themselves,  or  of  themselves 
have  sprung  out  of  nothing.  And  if  it  were  possible  they 
could,  being  raised  up  into  being,  continue  in  being  of 
themselves;  yet  since  our  present  question  is  not  concern- 
ing what  they  need,  but  what  God  can  do;  and  our  ad- 
versaries in  the  present  cause  do  not  (as  hath  been  noted) 
upon  any  other  pretence  deny  that  he  doth  concern  him- 
self in  the  affairs  of  the  vmiverse,but  that  he  cannot;  (that 
is,  that  it  consists  not  with  his  felicity,  and  he  cannot  be 
happy;)  is  it  not  plain  that  he  can  with  the  .same  facility 
continue  the  influence  which  he  at  first  gave  forth,  and 
with  as  little  prejudice  to  his  felicity'?  For  if  it  be  neces- 
sary to  him  to  be  happy,  or  impossible  not  to  be  so,  he 
must  be  ever  so.  His  happiness  was  not  capable  of  being 
discontinued,  so  long  as  while  he  made  the  world,  settled 
the  several  orders  and  kinds,  and  formed  the  first  indi- 
viduals of  every  kind  of  creatures.  Therefore  having  done 
this,  and  without  diminution  to  his  happiness,  Avas  it  a 
more  toilsome  and  less  tolerable  labour  to  keep  things  as 
they  were,  than  to  make  them  so  1  If  it  was,  (which  no 
man  that  understands  common  sense  would  say,)  surely 
that  blind  thing  which  they  more  blindly  call  nahtre,  (not 
understanding  or  being  able  to  tell  what  they  mean  by  it,) 
and  would  have  be  the  only  cause  of  all  things,  acting  at 
first  to  the  uttermost,  and  having  noway  to  recruit  its 
vigour  and  reinforce  itself,  its  labour  and  business  being 
so  much  increased,  and  jaded  and  grown  weary ;  had  given 
out,  and  patiently  suffered  all  things  to  dissolve  and  re- 
lapse into  the  old  chaos  long  ago.  But  if  the  labour  was 
not  greater,  to  continue  things  in  the  state  wherein  they 
were  made,  than  to  make  them;  surely  a  wise,  intelligent 
Deity,  which  we  have  proved  made  them,  could  as  w'ell 
sustain  them,  being  made,  as  their  brutal  (and  as  unintel- 
ligible as  unintelligent)  nature  do  both. 

So  much  then  of  intercourse  God  could  have  with  hi.s 
creatures,  as  his  continual  communication  of  his  influence 
to  be  received  by  them  amounts  to.  And  then  man,  not  be- 
ing excluded  their  number,  must  share  in  this  possible 
privilege  according  to  the  capacity'  of  his  nature.  And  inas- 
much as  we  have  also  proved  more  particularly  concerning 
man,  that  he  immediately  owes  the  peculiar  excellences 
of  his  intelligent  nature,  as  it's  .such,  to  God  only;  it  is 
apparently  consequent,  that  having  formed  this  his  more 
excellent  creature,  according  to  his  own  more  express 
likeness,  stamjied  it  M-ith  the  glorious  characters  of  his 
living  image,  ijiven  it  a  nature  suitable  to  his  own,  and 
thereby  made  it  capable  of  rational  and  intelligent  converse 
with  him;  he  hath  it  ever  in  his  power  to  maintain  a  con- 
tinual converse  with  this  creature,  by  agreeable  communi- 
cations; by  letting;  in  upon  it  the  vital  beams  and  influ- 
ences of  his  own  lijjht  and  love,  and  receiving  back  the 
return  of  its  grateful  acknowledgments  and  praises. 
Wherein  it's  manifest  he  should  do  no  greater  thing  than 
he  hath  done :  for  who  sees  not,  that  it  is  a  matter  of  no 
greater  diflSculiy  to  converse  with,  than  to  make  a  reason- 
able creature'?  Or  who  would  not  be  ashamed  to  deny, 
that  he  who  hath  been  the  only  Author  of  the  soul  of  man, 
and  of  the  excellent  powers  and  faculties  belonging  to  it, 
can  more  easily  sustain  what  he  hath  made,  and  converse 
with  that  his  creature,  suitably  to  the  way  wherein  he  hath 
made  it  capable  of  his  converse  '?    Whereto  the  consider- 


50 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  I. 


ation  being  added  of  his  gracious  nature,  (manifested  in 
this  creation  itself,)  it  is  farther  evident,  that  he  is  (as 
things  are  now  ordered,  whereof  more  hereafter)  not  only 
able,  but  apt  and  ready,  to  converse  with  men,  in  such  a 
way  as  shall  tend  to  the  improving  of  their  being  unto  that 
blessedness  whereof  he  hath  made  them  naturally  capable; 
if  their  own  voluntary  alienation  and  aversion  to  him  (yet 
not  overcome)  do  not  obstruct  the  way  of  that  intercourse. 
And  even  this  were  sufficient  to  give  foundation  to  a  tem- 
ple, and  both  afford  encouragement  and  infer  an  obligation 
to  religion  ;  although  no  other  perfection  had  been,  or 
conid  be,  demonstrated  of  the  Divine  Being,  than  what  is 
immediately  to  be  collected  from  his  works,  and  the  things 
whereof  he  hath  been  the  sole  and  most  arbitrary  Author. 
For  what  if  no  more  were  possible  to  be  proved,  have  we 
not,  even  by  thus  much,  a  representation  of  an  object  suf- 
ficiently worthy  of  our  homage  and  adoration  1  He  that 
could  make  and  sustain  such  a  Avorld  as  this,  how  inex- 
pressibly doth  he  surpass  in  greatness  the  most  excellent 
of  all  mortal  creatures!  to  some  or  other  of  whom,  upon 
some  (merely  accidental)  dignifying  circumstances,  we 
justly  esteem  ourselves  to  owe  a  dutiful  observance  and 
subjection. 

If  he  did  not  comprehend  within  his  own  being  simply 
all  perfection;  if  there  were  many  gods  and  worlds  besides, 
and  he  only  the  Creator  and  absolute  Lord  of  our  vortex; 
were  not  that  enough  to  entitle  him  to  all  the  obedience 
and  service  we  could  give  him,  and  enable  him  suf- 
ficient h^  to  reward  it,  and  render  hispresence  and  cherishing 
influences  (which  he  could  every  where  diffuse  within  this 
circle,  and  limited  portion  of  the  universe)  even  infinitely 
covetable  and  desirable  to  US'?  Yea,  if  he  were  the  only 
entire  Author  of  our  own  particular  being,  how  much 
more  is  that,  than  the  partial,  subordinate  interest  of  a 
human  parent,  to  whom  (as  even  an  Epicurean  would 
confess)  nature  itself  urges  and  exacts  a  duly,  the  refusal 
whereof  even  barbarian  ingenuity  would  abhor,  yea  and 
brutal  instinct  condemn  1  How  much  greater  and  more 
absolute  is  the  right  which  the  parentage  ofour  whole  being 
challenges!  If  every  man  were  created  by  a  several  god, 
whose  creative  power  were  confined  to  only  one  such 
creature,  and  each  one  were  the  solitary  product  and  the 
charge  of  an  appropriate  deity,  whose  dominion  the  state 
of  things  would  allow  to  be  exteirded  so  far  only,  and  no 
further;  were  there  therefore  no  place  left  for  religion,  or 
no  tie  unto  love,  reverence,  obedience,  and  adoration, 
because  the  author  of  my  being  comprehended  not  in 
himself  all  perfection,  when  as  yet  he  comprehended  so 
much  as  to  be  the  sole  cause  of  all  that  is  in  me;  and  his 
power  over  me,  and  his  goodness  to  me,  are  hereby  sup- 
posed the  same  which  the  only  one  God  truly  hath  and 
exerciseth  towards  all  1  If  all  that  I  am  and  have  be  for 
him,  I  cannot  surely  owe  to  him  less  than  all. 

Such  as  have  either  had,  or  supposed  themselves  to  have, 
their  particular  tutelary  ^'f  wit,  (of  whom  there  will  be  more 
occasion  to  take  notice  hereafter,)  though  they  reckoned 
them  but  a  sort  of  deputed  or  vicarious  deities,  underling 
gods,  whom  they  never  accounted  the  causes  of  their 
being;  yet  how  have  they  coveted  and  gloried  to  open 
their  breasts  to  become  their  temples,  and  entertain  the 
converse  of  those  supposed  divine  inhabitants!  If  thcv 
had  taken  one  of  these  to  be  their  alone  creator,  how  much 
greater  had  their  veneration  and  their  homage  been !  This, 
it  may  be  hoped,  will  be  thought  sufficiently  proved  in 
this  discourse,  (at  least  to  have  been  so  by  some  or  other,) 
that  we  are  not  of  ourselves;  and  that  our  extraction  is 
to  be  fetched  higher  than  from  matter,  or  from  only  human 
progenitors.  Nothing  that  is  terrene  and  mortal  could 
be  the  author  of  such  powers  as  we  find  in  ourselves; 
we  are  most  certainly  the  offspring  of  some  or  other  deity. 
And  he  that  made  us,  knows  us  thoroughly,  can  apply 
himself  inwardly  to  us,  receive  our  addresses  and  ap- 
plication, our  acknowledgments  and  adoration;  where- 
unfo  we  should  have,  even  upon  these  terms,  great  and 
manifest  obligation,  although  nothing  more  of  the  excel- 
lency and  perfection  of  our  Creator  were  certainly  known 
tons. 

VII.  But  it  hath  been  further  shown.  That  the  neces- 
sary Being  from  whence  we  .sprang,  is  also  an  absolutely 
and  infinitely  perfect  Being: — That  necessary  Being  can- 


not be  less  perfect,  than  to  include  the  entire  and  inei- 
haustible  fulness  of  all  being  and  perfection:  —  That 
therefore  the  God  to  whom  this  notion  belongs,  must  con- 
sequently be  every  way  sufficient  to  all,  and  be  himself 
but  one;  the  only  Source  and  Fountain  of  all  life  and 
being;  the  common  Basis  and  Support  of  the  universe; 
the  absolute  Lord  of  this  great  creation,  and  the  central 
Object  of  the  common  concurrent  trust,  fear,  love,  and 
other  Avorship  of  his  intelligent  and  reasonable  creatures. 
And  therefore  there  remains  no  greater  or  other  difficulty, 
in  apprehending  how  he  can,  without  disturbance  to  him- 
self or  interruption  of  his  own  felicity,  intend  all  the 
concernments  of  his  creatures,  apply  himself  to  them  ac- 
cording to  their  several  exigences,  satisfy  their  desires  and 
cravings,  inspect  and  govern  their  actions  and  affairs ;  than 
we  have  to  apprehend  a  Being  absolutely  and  every  way 
perfect.  Whereof  if  we  cannot  have  a  distinct  apprehen- 
sion all  at  once,  i.  e.  though  we  cannot  comprehend  every 
particular  perfection  of  God  in  the  same  thought,  (as  our 
eye  cannot  behold,  at  one  view,  every  part  of  an  over-large 
olDJect,  unto  which,  however,  part  by  part,  it  may  be  suc- 
cessively applied,)  we  can  yet  in  the  general  apprehend 
him  absolutely  perfect;  or  such  to  whom,  we  are  sure,  no 
perfection  is  Avanting:  and  can  successively  contemplate 
this  or  that,  as  we  are  occasionally  led  to  consider  them : 
and  can  answer  to  ourselves  difficulties  that  occur  to  us, 
with  this  easy,  sure,  and  ever  ready  solution;  That  he  can 
do  all  things;  that  nothing  is  too  hard  for  him;  that  he  is 
full,  all-sufficient,  and  every  way  perfect.  Whereof  we 
are  the  more  confirmed,  that  we  find  we  cannot,  by  the 
utmost  range  of  our  most  enlarged  thoughts,  ever  reach 
any  bound  or  end  of  that  perfection,  which  yet  we  must 
conclude  is  necessarily  to  be  attributed  to  an  absolutely 
perfect  Being.  And  this  we  have  reason  to  take  for  a  \'ery 
sufficient  answer  to  any  doubt  that  can  arise,  concerning 
the  possibility  of  his  converse  with  us ;  unless  we  will  be 
so  unreasonable  as  to  pretend,  that  what  is  brought  for 
sohdion.  hath  greater  difficulty  in  it  than  the  doubt;  or  that 
because  we  cannot  apprehend  at  once  infinite  perfection, 
therefore  it  cannot  be;  Avhich  Avere  as  much  as  to  say, that 
it  cannot  be  because  it  is  infinite ;  for  it  were  not  infinite, 
if  we  could  distinctly  apprehend  it.  And  so  were  to 
make  it  a  reason  against  itself,  which  is  most  injuriously 
and  Avith  no  pretence  attempted,  except  we  could  shoAv  an 
inconsistency  in  the  terms;  which  it  is  plain  we  can  never 
do,  and  should  most  idly  attempt.  And  it  were  to  make 
our  present  apprehension  the  measure  of  all  reality,  against 
our  experience;  which  (if  our  indulgence  to  that  self- 
magnifying  conceit  do  not  suspend  our  further  inquiries 
and  researches)  would  daily  bring  to  our  notice  things  we 
had  no  apprehension  of  before.  It  were  (instead  of  that 
just  and  laudable  ambition  of  becoming  ourselves  like  God, 
in  his  imitable  perfections)  to  make  him  like  ourselves ; 
the  true  model  of  the  Epicurean  deity. 

Nor  can  any  thing  be  more  easy,  than  that  wherein  we 
pretend  so  great  a  difficulty;  that  is,  to  apprehend  some- 
Avhat  may  be  more  perfect  than  we  can  apprehend.  What 
else  but  proud  ignorance  can  hinder  us  from  seeing,  that 
the  more  we  knoAV,  the  more  there  is  that  we  knoAv  not  ? 
How  often  are  we  outdone  by  creatures  of  our  own  order 
in  the  creation  !  How  many  men  are  there  Avhom  we  are 
daily  constrained  to  admire,  as  unspeakably  excelling  us, 
and  Avhom  Ave  cannot  but  acknowledge  to  be  far  more 
knowing,  discerning,  apprehensive  of  things,  of  more 
composed  minds,  of  more  penetrating  judgments,  of 
more  quick  and  nimble  Avits,  easily  turning  themselves 
to  great  variety  of  objects  and  affairs  without  distrac- 
tion and  confusion,  of  more  equal  and  dispassionate 
tempers,  less  liable  to  commotion  and  disturbance,  than 
ourselves. 

HoAv  absurd  and  senseless  a  pretence  is  it  against  the 
thing  itself,  that  Ave  cannot  apprehend  an  infinite  perfection 
in  one  common  fountain  of  all  perfection;  or  because  we 
cannot  go  through  a  multitude  of  businesses  without  dis- 
traction, that  therefore  he  that  made  us  and  all  thing  can- 
not. If  we  Avould  make  ourselves  the  measure,  it  is  likely 
we  should  confess  Ave  are  outstripped,  Avhen  we  are  told 
that  Julius  Cajsar  could  dictate  letters,  when  he  was  intent 
upon  the  greatest  affairs,  to  four  (and  if  he  had  nothing 
else  to  diA'ert  him,  to  scA'en)  secretaries  at  once ;  that 


Chap.  VI. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


51 


Cyrusm  could  call  by  name  all  the  soldiers  in  his  numerous 
army:  with  divers  "other  strange  instances  of  like  nature. 
And  since  the  perfections  of  some  so  far  exceed  the  measure 
of  the  most,  why  is  it  then  unconceivable  that  divine  perfec- 
tion should  so  far  surpass  all,  as  that  God  may  intend  the 
affairs  of  the  world,  according  to  the  several  exigences  of 
his  creatures,  without  any  ungrateful  diversion  to  himself, 
or  diminution  to  his  felicity"?  And  since  they  who  partake 
of  some,  and  but  a  small  portion  of  perfection  only,  can 
be  concerned  in  many  affairs,  with  little  trouble;  why 
cannot  he  that  comprehends  all  perfection,  be  concerned 
in  all,  without  any  1  For  though  we  have,  in  what  hath 
been  last  said,  endeavoured  to  represent  it  as  not  so  unap- 
prehensible  as  is  pretended,  that  it  may  be  also  ;  we  take 
it,  in  the  meantime,  as  formerly  sufficiently  proved,  that 
so  it  is  ;  that  God  is  a  being  absolutely  perfect,  or  that  in- 
cludes eminently  all  perfection  in  himself. 

VIII.  Which  general  perfection  of  his  being,  as  it  mo- 
difies all  his  attributes,  so  we  shall  particularly  take  notice 
that  it  doth  so  as  to  those  that  have  a  more  direct  influence 
upon,  and  tend  more  fully  to  evince,  his  conversableness 
with  men.  As,  first,  his  wisdom  and  knowledge  (for  we 
need  not  to  be  so  curious  as  at  present  to  distinguish  them) 
must  be  omniscient.  About  which,  if  any  place  were  left 
for  rational  doubt,  it  would  be  obvious  to  them  to  allege  it 
who  are  of  slower  inclinations  towards  religion ;  and  ob- 
ject, (against  all  applications  to,  or  expectations  from,  him,) 
that  if  we  be  not  sure  he  knows  simply  all  things,  so  as 
wisely  to  consider  them  and  resolve  fitly  about  them,  it 
will  be  no  little  difficulty  to  determine  which  he  doth,  and 
which  not ;  or  to  be  at  a  certainty,  that  this  or  that  con- 
cernment of  theirs,  about  which  they  might  address  them- 
selves to  him,  be  not  among  the  unknown  things.  At 
least,  we  shall  the  less  need  to  be  curious  in  distinguish- 
ing, or  to  consider  what  things  may  be  supposed  rather 
than  other,  to  be  without  the  compass  of  his  knowledge ; 
if  it  appear  that  it  universally  encompasses  all  things,  or 
that  nothing  can  be  without  its  reach.  And  because  we 
suppose  it  already  out  of  doubt,  that  the  true  notion  of 
God  imports  a  Being  absolutely  or  every  way  perfect; 
nothing  else  can  be  doubted  in  this  matter,  but  whether 
the  knowledge  of  all  things  be  a  perfection. 

The  greatest  difficulty  that  hath  troubled  some  in  this 
matter,  hath  been,  How  it  is  possible  there  should  be  any 
certain  knowledge  of  eventsyetto  come,  that  depend  upon 
a  free  and  self-determining  cause  1  But  methinks  we 
should  not  make  a  difficulty  to  acknowledge,  that  to 
know  these  things,  imports  greater  perfection  than  not  to 
know  them ;  and  then  it  would  be  very  unreasonable, 
because  we  cannot  show  how  this  or  that  thing  was  per- 
formed which  manifestly  is  done,  therefore  to  deny  that  it 
is  done  at  all.  It  would  be  so  highly  unreasonable  to 
conclude  against  any  act  of  God,  from  our  ignorance  of  the 
manner  of  it,  that  we  should  reckon  it  very  absurd  to  con- 
clude so,  concerning  any  act  of  our  own,  or  our  ability 
thereto.  What  if  it  were  hitherto  an  unknown  thing,  and 
impossible  to  be  determined,  how  the  act  of  vision  is  per- 
formed by  us;  were  it  a  wise  conclusion,  that  therefore  we 
neither  do  nor  can  see  1  How  much  more  rash  and  pre- 
suming a  confidence  were  it  to  reason  thus  concerning. the 
divine  acts  and  perfections !  Would  we  not  in  any  such 
case  be  determined  rather  by  thkt  which  is  more  evident, 
than  b}''  what  is  more  obscure  1  As  in  the  assigned  in- 
stance, we  should  have  but  these  two  propositions  to 
compare — That  I  do  (or  have  such  a  perfection  belonging 
to  me  that  I  can)  see,  and, — That  whatsoever  act  I  do  or 
can  do,  I  am  able  to  understand  the  course  and  method 
of  nature's  operations  therein — and  thereupon  to  judge 
which  of  these  two  is  more  evident.  Wherein  it  may  be 
supposed  there  is  no  man  in  his  wits,  to  whom  the  deter- 
mination would  not  be  easy.  Accordingly,  in  the  present 
case  we  have  only  these  two  assertions  that  can  be  in  com- 
petition, in  point  of  evidence,  between  which  we  are  to 
make  a  comparison,  and  a  consequent  judgment ;  viz. — 
Whatsoever  perfection  belongs  -to  a  being  absolutely  per- 
fect, enabling  it  to  do  this  or  that,  the  wit  of  man  can  com- 
prehend the  distinct  way  and  manner  of  doing  it;  and, — 

m  Plin.  Nat.  Hist.  lib.  7.  c.  2.5.  Id.  1.  7.  c.  24.  vid.  pt  Xenonh.  de  C>T  Ps'd. 
I.  .'5.  Who,  thou'-'h  he  expressly  s^vs  he  knew  all  tlie  PoUlicrs'  name?,  but 
seems  ratlierto  mean  it  of  their  oiricers,  (for,  saith  he,  he  reckoned  it  an  ab- 


It  imports  greater  perfection  to  know  all  things,  than  to  be 
ignorant  of  some — and  here  .surely  whosoever  shall  think 
the  determination  difficult,  accounts  the  wit  of  man  so 
exceeding  great,  that  he  discovers  his  own  to  be  very  little. 
For  what  can  the  pretence  of  evidence  be  in  the  former 
assertion  1  Was  it  necessary  that  he,  in  whose  choice  it 
was  whether  we  should  ever  knowany  thing  or  no,  should 
make  us  capable  of  knowing  every  thing  belonging  to  his 
own  being?  Or  will  we  adventure  to  be  so  assuming,  as 
while  we  deny  it  to  God  that  he  knows  all  things,  to  attri- 
bute to  ourselves  that  we  dol  But  if  we  will  think  it  not 
altogether  unworthy  of  us  to  be  ignorant  of  something, 
what  is  there  of  which  we  may  with  more  probability,  or 
with  less  disparagement  be  thought  so,  than  the  manner  of 
God's  knowing  things'!  And  what  place  is  there  for  com- 
plaint of  inevidence  in  the  latter  1  Is  not  that  knowledge 
more  perfect, which  so  fully  already  comprehends  all  things, 
as  upon  that  account  to  admit  of  no  increase;  than  that 
which  shall  be  every  day  growing,  and  have  a  continual 
.succession  of  new  objects  emerging  and  coming  into  view 
before  altogether  unknown  1  And  will  not  that  be  the 
case,  if  we  suppose  future  contingencies  to  lie  concejaled 
from  the  penetrating  eye  of  God  1  For  whatsoever  is  fu- 
ture, will  some  time  be  ])resent,  and  then  we  will  allow 
such  contingencies  to  be  known  to  him.  That  is,  that 
God  may  know  them,  when  we  ourselves  can;  and  that 
nothing  of  that  kind  is  k-nown  to  him,  which  is  not  know- 
able  some  way  or  other  to  ourselves,  at  least  successively, 
and  one  thing"  after  another.  We  will  perhaps  allow  that 
prerogative  to  God,  in  point  of  this  knowledge,  that  he 
can  know  these  things  now  fallen  out,  all  at  once ;  ice, 
but  by  degrees ;  while  yet  there  is  not  any  one  that  is  ab- 
solutely unknowable  to  us.  But  why  should  it  be  thought 
unreasonable,  to  attribute  an  excellency  to  the  knowledge 
of  God  above  ours;  as  well  in  respect  of  the  manner  of 
knowing,  as  the  multitude  of  objects  at  once  known  1  We 
will  readily  confess,  in  some  creatures,  an  excellency  of 
their  visive  faculty  above  our  own ;  that  they  can  see 
things  in  that  darkness,  wherein  they  are  to  us  invisible. 
And  will  we  not  allow  that  to  the  eye  of  God,  which  is 
as  aflame  of  fire,  to  be  able  to  penetrate  into  the  abstrusest 
darkness  of  futurity,  though  we  know  not  the  way  how  it 
is  done ;  when  yet  we  know  that  whatsoever  belongs  to 
the  most  perfect  being,  must  belong  to  his  1  And  that 
knowledge  of  all  things  imports  more  perfection,  than  if 
it  were  lessened  by  the  ignorance  of  an}'  thing. 

Some,  who  have  thought  the  certain  foreknowledge  of 
future  contingencies  not  attributable  to  God,  have  reckoned 
the  matter  sufficiently  excused  by  this.  That  it  no  more 
detracts  from  the  divine  omniscience,  to  state  without  the 
object  of  it  things  not  possible,  or  that  imply  a  contradic- 
tion (as  thev  suppose  these  do)  to  be  known ;  than  it  doth 
from  his  ornnipotency,  that  it  cannot  do  what  is  impossi- 
ble, or  that  implies"  a  contradiction  to  be  done.  But 
against  this  there  seems  to  lie  this  reasonable  exception, 
that  the  two  ca.ses  appear  not  sufficiently  alike ;  inasmuch 
as  the  supposition  of  the  former  will  be  found  not  to  leave 
the  blessed  God  equally  entitled  to  omnisciency,  as  the 
latter  to  omnipotencv.  For  all  things  should  not  be  alike 
the  object  of  both ;  "and  why  should  not  that  he  under- 
stood to  signify  the  knou-lcdsc  of  simply  all  things,  as  well 
as  this\\\e  pov'cr  of  doins  simply  all  things  7  Or  why  should 
all  thiiifis,  included  in  these  two  words,  signify  so  very 
diversely;  that  is,  there  properly  all  things,  here  some 
things  only?  And  why  must  we  so  difference  the  object 
of  omnisciency  and  ornnipotency,  as  to  make  that  so  much 
narrower  than  this?  And  then  how  is  it  all  things,  when 
so  great  a  number  of  things  will  be  left  excluded  ? 
Whereas  from  the  object  of  ornnipotency  (that  we  may 
prevent  what  would  be  replied)  there  will  be  no  exclusion 
of  any  thing:  not  of  the  things  which  are  actually  already 
made  ;  for  they  are  still  momently  reproduced  by  the  same 
power:  not  of  the  actions  and  effects  of  free  causes  yet 
future;  for,  when  they  become  actual,  Gxid  doth  certainly 
perform  the  part  of  the  first  cause,  (even  by  common  con- 
sent,) in  e,-der  to  their  becoming  so;  which  is  certainly 
doing  somewhat,  though  all  be  not  agreed  what  that  part 

surd  thine  a  meohanic  should  know  the  names  of  all  his  tools.  4:c.  and  a  ge- 
neral not  know  the  names  of  his  captains  under  him.  Sic.)  ret  he  amtb  the  sol- 
diers wondered  -ojj  oi'oa^i^iM  ti'trcXX^ro. 


52 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  I, 


is.  Therefore  they  are,  in  the  meantime,  to  be  esteemed 
within  the  object  of  omnipotency,  or  to  be  of  the  things 
which  God  can  do ;  viz.  as  the  first  cause  virtually  in- 
cluding the  power  of  the  second.  But  more  strictly ;  all 
impossibility  is  either  natural  and  absolute,  or  moral  and 
conditional.  AVhat  is  absolutely  or  naturally  impossible, 
or  repugnant  in  itself,  is  not  properly  any  thing.  What- 
soever simple  being,  not  yet  existent,  we  can  form  any 
conception  of,  is  producible,  and  so  within  the  compass  of 
omnipotency;  for  there  is  no  repugnancy  in  simplicity. 
That  wherein  therefore  we  place  natural  impossibility,  is 
the  inconsistency  of  being  this  thing,  whose  notion  is  such  ; 
and  another,  wholly  and  entirely,  whose  notion  is  diverse, 
at  the  same  time,  that  which  (more  barbarously  than  insig- 
nificantly) hath  been  wont  to  be  called  incompnssibility. 
But  surely  all  things  are  properly  enough  said  to  be  natu- 
rally possible  to  God,  while  all  simple  beings  are  produci- 
ble by  him,  of  which  any  notion  can  be  formed;  yea,  and 
compounded,  so  as  by  their  composition  to  result  into  a 
third  thing.  So  that  it  is  not  an  exception,  to  say  that  it 
is  naturally  impossible  this  thing  should  be  another  thing, 
and  yet  be  wholly  itself  still  at  once ;  that  it  should  be 
and  not  be,  or  be  without  itself  There  is  not  within  the 
compass  of  actual  or  conceivable  being,  such  a  thing.  Nor 
is  it  reasonable  to  except  such  actions  as  are  naturally  pos- 
sible to  other  agents,  but  not  to  him  ;  as  to  walk,  for  in- 
stance, or  the  like.  Inasmuch  as,  though  the  excellency 
of  his  nature  permits  not  they  should  be  done  by  him,  yet 
since  their  power  of  doing  them  proceeds  wholly  from  him, 
he  hath  it  virtually  and  eminently  in  himself:  as  was  for- 
merly said  of  the  infiniteness  of  his  being.  And  for  moral 
impossibility,  as  to  lie,  to  do  an  unjust  act ;  that  God  never 
does  them,  proceeds  not  from  want  of  power,  but  an  eter- 
nal aversion  of  will.  It  cannot  be  said  he  is  not  able  to 
do  such  a  thing,  if  he  would;  but  so  is  his  will  qualified 
and  conditioned,  by  its  own  unchangeable  rectitude,  that 
he  most  certainly  never  will;  or  such  things  as  are  in 
themselves  evil  are  never  done  by  him,  not  through  the 
defect  of  natural  power,  but  from  the  permanent  stability 
and  fulness  of  all  moral  perfection.  And  it  is  not  without 
the  compass  of  absolute  omnipotency  to  do  what  is  but 
conditionally  impossible,  that  absence  of  which  restrictive 
condition  would  rather  bespeak  impotenc}^  and  imperfec- 
tion, than  omnipotency.  Therefore  the  object  of  omnipo- 
tence is  simply  all  things ;  why  not  of  omniscience  as 
well  1  It  may  be  said,  all  things,  as  it  signifies  the  object 
of  omniscience,  is  only  restrained  by  the  act  or  faculty, 
signified  therewith  in  the  same  Avord,  so  as  to  denote  the 
formal  object  of  that  faculty  or  act,  mz.  all  knowable 
things.  But  surely  that  act  must  suppose  some  agent, 
whereto  that  knowable  hath  reference.  Knowable !  To 
whom?  To  others,  or  to  God  himself  ?  If  we  say  the 
former,  it  is  indeed  a  great  honour  we  put  upon  God,  to 
say  he  can  know  as  much  as  others;  if  the  latfter,  we 
speak  absurdly,  and  only  say  he  can  know^  all  that  he  can 
know.  It  were  fairer  to  deny  omniscience  than  so  inter- 
pret it.  But  if  it  be  denied,  what  shall  the  pretence  bel 
Why,  that  it  implies  a  contradiction  future  contingents 
should  be  certainly  known ;  for  they  are  uncertain,  and 
nothing  can  be  otherwise  truly  known  than  as  it  is." 

And  it  must  be  acknowledged,  that  to  whom  any  thing 
is  uncertain,  it  is  a  contradiction  that  to  him  it  should  be 
certainly  known.  But  that  such  things  are  uncertain  to 
God,  needs  other  proof  than  I  have  met  with,  in  Avhat  fol- 
lows in  that  cited  author,  or  elsewhere :  all  which  will 
amount  to  no  more  than  this,  that  such  things  as  w-e  can- 
not tell  how  God  knows  them,  must  needs  be  unknown  to 
him.  But  since  we  are  sure  many  such  things  have  been 
certainly  foretold  by  God,  (and  of  them  such  as  we  may 
be  also  sure  he  never  intended  to  effect,)  we  have  reason 
enough  to  be  confident  that  such  things  are  not  unknow- 
able to  him.  And  for  the  manner  of  his  knowing  them,  it 
is  better  to  profess  ignorance  about  it,  than  attempt  the 
explication  thereof,  either  unintelligibly,  as  some  have  to 
no  purpose,  or  dangerously  and  impiously,  as  others  have 
adventured  to  do  to  very  bad  jm-rpose.  And  it  well  be- 
comes us  to  suppose  an  infinite  understanding  may  have 

n  ftiinlis  res  est  talis  est  roi  cosiiitio.  Si  itaoue  res  sit  inccrta  (piita  Incer- 
iuiii  est  lioo  ne  sit  fiituniin,  an  non)  non  datur  ulla  certa  ejus  notitia.  Quo- 
nrt/^lo  eniin  fieri  potest  uf  certo  soiatur  adfore,  quod  certo  futururn  tion  est,  &c. 


ways  of  knowing  things  which  we  know  nothing  of.  To 
my  apprehension,  that  last-mentioned  author  doth  with  ill 
success  attempt  an  explication  of  God's  manner  of  know- 
ing this  sort  of  things,  by  the  far  less  intelligible  notion  of 
the  indivisibility  of  eternity,  comprehending  (as  he  says) 
all  the  parts  of  time,  not  successively,  but  together.  And 
though  he  truly  say  that  the  Scotists'  way  of  expressing 
how  future  contingents  are  present  to  God,  i.  e.  according 
to  their  objective  and  intentional  being  only,  affords  us  no 
account  why  God  knows  them,  (for  which  cause  he  rejects 
it,  and  follows  that  of  the  I'homists,  who  will  have  them 
to  be  present  according  to  their  real  and  actual  existence,) 
I  should  yet  prefer  the  deficiency  of  the  former  way,  be- 
fore the  contradictiousness  and  repugnancy  of  the  latter ; 
and  conceive  those  words  in  the  Divine  Dialogues^  as 
good  an  explication  of  the  manner  of  his  knoAvledge,  as  the 
case  can  admit,  (which  yet  is  but  the  Scotists'  sense,) 
"That  the  whole  evolution  of  times  and  ages  is  so  collect- 
edly and  presentificly  represented  to  God  at  once,  as  if  all 
things  and  actions  which  ever  were,  are,  or  shall  be,  w-ere 
at  this  very  in.stant,  and  so  always  really  present  and  ex- 
istent before  him."  Which  is  no  wonder  the  animadver- 
sion and  intellectual  comprehension  of  God  being  abso- 
lutely infinite,  according  to  the  truth  of  his  idea.  I  do 
therefore  think  upon  a  sober  resolution  in  this  matter, 
"  That  it  seems  more  safe  to  allow  this  privilege  to  the  in- 
finite understanding  of  God,P  than  to  venture  at  all  to  cir- 
cumscribe his  omniscience  :  for  though  it  may  safely  be 
said  that  he  knows  not  any  thing  that  really  implies  a 
contradiction  to  be  known,  yet  we  are  not  assured  but  that 
may  seem  a  contradiction  to  us,  that  is  not  so  really  in 
itself."  And  when  we  have  only  human  wit  to  contest 
with  in  the  case,  reverence  of  this  or  that  man,  though  both 
in  great  vo^ue  in  that  kind,  needs  not  restrain  us  from 
distinguishing  Detwcen  a  mere  seeming  latent  contradic- 
tion, and  a  flat,  downright,  open  one.  Only  as  to  that 
instance  of  the  commensiirableness  of  the  diagonal  lineol 
a  quadrate  to  one  of  the  sides  ;  w^hereas  though  there  are 
great  difficulties  on  both  sides,  viz.  that  these  are  com- 
mensurable, and  that  they  are  not ;  yet  any  man's  judg- 
ment would  rather  incline  to  the  latter,  as  the  easier  part : 
I  should  therefore  also  think  it  more  safe  to  make  choice 
of  that,  as  the  parallel  of  the  present  difficulty.  Upon 
the  whole,  we  may  conclude  that  the  knowledge  of  God 
is  every  way  perfect ;  and  being  so,  extends  to  all  our  con- 
cernments: and  that  nothing  remains,  upon  that  account, 
to  make  us  decline  applying  ourselves  to  religious  con- 
verses with  him,  or  deny  him  the  honour  and  entertain- 
ment of  a  temple:  for  which  we  shall  yet  see  further 
cause,  when  we  consider,  next, 

IX.  That  his  power  is  also  omnipotent.  Which  (though 
the  discourse  of  it  have  been  occasionally  somewhat  min- 
gled with  that  of  the  last)  might  be  directly  spoken  of  for 
the  fuller  eviction  of  that  his  conversableness  with  men, 
which  religion  and  a  temple  do  suppose.  Nor  indeed  is  it 
enough  that  he  knows  our  concernments,  except  he  can 
also  provide  effectually  about  them,  and  dispose  of  them 
to  our  advantage.  And  we  cannot  doubt  but  he,  who 
could  create  us  and  su<;h  a  world  as  this,  can  do  so,  even 
thaugh  he  were  supposed  not  omnipotent.  But  even  that 
itself  seems  a  very  unreasonable  supposition,  that  less  than 
infinite  power  should  suffice  to  the  creation  of  any  thing. 
For  however  liable  it  may  be  to  controversy,  what  a  second 
cause  might  do  herein,  being  assisted  by  the  infinite  power 
of  the  first;  it  seems  altogether  tmimaginable  to  us,  how, 
though  the  power  of  all  men  were  met  in  one,  (which  we 
can  easily  suppose  to  be  a  very  vast  power,)  it  could  alone 
be  sufficient  to  make  the  minutest  atom  arise  into  being 
out  of  nothing.  And  that  all  the  matter  of  the  universe 
hath  been  so  produced,  %nz.  out  of  nothing,  it  will  be  no 
great  presumption  to  suppose  already  fully  proved  ;  in  that 
though  any  such  thing  as  necessary  matter  were  admitted, 
yet  its  essential  unalterableness  would  render  it  impossible 
it  should  be  the  matter  of  the  universe.  Therefore  when 
we  cannot  devise  what  finite  power  can  ever  suffice  (sup- 
pose it  were  never  so  much  fncreased,  but  still  finite)  to 
the  doing  of  that  which  we  are  sure  is  done,  what  is  left 

—Strangiiis  de.  Votuntate  et  Jctionihvs  Dei,  <J-c.  I.  3.  c.t.ashe  there  ob- 
jects 10  himself.  o  Dr.  More, 
p  Of  Bathymus,  in  the  same  Dialogues. 


Chap.  VI. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


53 


us  to  suppose,  but  that  the  power  which  did  it  is  simply 
infinite:  much  more  when  we  consider,  not  only  that 
something  is  actually  produced  out  of  nothing,  but  do  also 
seriously  contemplate  the  nature  of  the  production !  Which 
carries  so  much  of  amazing  wonder  in  it,  every  where,  that 
even  the  lejist  and  most  minute  things  might  serve  for  suf- 
ficient instances  of  the  unlimited  greatness  of  that  power 
which  made  them;  as  would  be  seen  if  we  did  industri- 
ously set  ourselves  to  compare  the  effects  of  divine  pou-er 
with  those  of  human  art  and  skill.  As  is  the  ingenious 
and  pious  observation  of  the  most  worthy  Mr.  Hook,"? 
who  upon  his  viewing  with  his  microscope  the  point 
of  a  small  and  very  sharp  needle,  (than  which  we  can- 
not conceive  a  smaller  thing  laboured  by  the  hand  of 
man,)  takes  notice  of  sundry  sorts  of  natural  things,  "that 
have  points  many  thousand  times  sharper:  those  of  the 
hairs  of  insects,  &c.  that  appearing  broad,  irregular,  and 
uneven,  having  marks  upon  it  of  the  rudeness  and  bungling 
of  art.  So  unaccurate  (saith  he)  it  is  in  all  its  productions, 
even  in  those  that  seem  most  neat,  that  if  examined  truly 
with  an  organ  more  acute  than  that  by  which  they  were 
made,  the  more  we  see  of  their  shape  the  less  appearance 
will  there  be  of  their  beauty.  Whereas  in  the  works  of  nature 
the  deepest  discoveries  show  us  the  greatest  excellences  ; 
an  evident  argument  thai  he  that  was  the  Author  of  these 
things,  was  no  other  than  omnipotent,  being  able  to  include 
as  great  a  variety  of  parts,  in  the  yet  smallest  discernible 
point,  as  in  the  vaster  bodies,  (which  comparatively  are 
called  also  points,)  such  as  the  earth,  sun,  or  planets." 
And  I  may  add,  when  those  appear  but  points,  in  com- 
parison of  his  so  much  vaster  work,  how  plainly  doth  that 
also  argue  to  us  the  same  thing  7  And  let  us  strictly  con- 
sider the  matter.  Omnipotency,  as  hath  been  said,  im- 
ports a  power  of  doing  all  things  possible  to  be  done,  or 
indeed,  simply  all  things;  unto  which  passive  power,  an 
active  one  must  necessarily  correspond.  That  is,  there  is 
nothing  in  itself  possible  to  be  done,  but  it  is  also  possible 
to  some  one  or  other  to  do  it.  If  we  should  therefore 
suppose  God  not  omnipotent,  it  would  follow  some  one 
or  other  were  able  to  do  more  than  God.  For  though 
possibility  do  import  a  non-repugnancy  in  the  thing  to  be 
done;  yet  it  al.so  connotes  an  ability  in  some  agent  to  do 
it.  Wherefore  there  is  nothing  possible  which  some  agent 
cannot  do.  And  if  so,  that  agent  must  either  be  God,  or 
some  other.  To  say  it  is  God,  is  what  we  intend.  That 
is,  thei'e  is  nothing  possible  which  God  cannot  do  ;  or  he 
can  do  all  things.  But  to  say  it  is  some  other,  and  not 
God,  were  to  open  the  door  to  the  above-mentioned  horrid 
consequence;  which  no  one  that  acknowledges  a  God 
(and  we  are  not  now  discoursing  with  them  who  simply 
deny  his  being)  would  not  both  blush  and  tremble  to 
avow. 

Some  indeed  have  so  over-done  the  business  here  as  to 
deny  any  intrinsical  possibility  of  any  thing,  and  say  that 
things  are  only  said  to  be  possible,  because  God  can  do 
them;  which  is  the  same  thing  as  thus  to  explain  God's 
omnipotency;  i.  e.  that  he  can  do  all  things  which  he  can 
do  :  and  makes  a  chimara  no  more  impossible  in  itself  to 
be  produced,  than  a  not  yet  existent  man.  And  the  reason 
of  the  denial  is,  that  what  is  only  possible  is  nothing,  and 
therefore  can  have  nothing  intrinsical  to  it ;  as  if  it  were 
not  suflicient  to  the  intrinsical  possibility  of  a  thing,  that 
its  idea  have  no  repugnancy  in  it.  Yet  entire  and  full 
possibility  connotes  a  reference  to  the  productive  power  of 
an  agent;  so  that  it  is  equally  absurd  to  say  that  things 
are  only  possible,  because  there  is  no  repugnancy  in  their 
ideas,  as  it  is  to  say  they  are  only  possible,  because  some 
agent  can  do  them;  inasmuch  as  the  entire  possibilit}'  of 
their  existence  imports  both  that  there  is  no  repugnancy 
in  their  ideas,  which  if  there  be,  they  are  every  way  nothing, 
(as  hath  been  said  before,)  and  also  that  there  is  a  suffi- 
cient power  to  produce  them.  Therefore,  whereas  we 
might  believe  him  sufficient  every  way  for  us,  though  we 
did  not  believe  him  simply  omnipotent ;  how  much  more 
fully  are  we  assured,  when  we  consider  that  he  is!  Whereof 
also  no  place  of  doubt  can  remain,  this  being  a  most  un- 
questionable perfection,  necessarily  included  in  the  notion 
of  an  absolutely  perfect  Being.     But  here  we  need  not 

q  In  his  MicoKraphia. 

t^vva.itvuii  fxev  iraira,  fiov^OficvcJi  Sc  ra  api'^a.    Phil.  Jud.  de  Abr. 
O 


further  insist,  having  no  peculiar  adversary  (in  this  matter 
singly)  to  contend  with,  as  indeed  he  would  have  had  a 
hard  province,  who  should  have  undertaken  to  contend 
against  omnipotency. 

And  now  join  herewith  again,  the  boundlessness  of  his 
goodness,  which  upon  the  same  ground  of  his  absolute 
perfection,  must  be  infinite  also,  and  which  it  is  of  equal 
concernment  to  us  to  consider,  that  we  may  understand 
he  not  only  can  effectually  provide  about  our  concern- 
ments, but  is  most  graciously  inclined  so  to  do.  And 
then,  what  rational  inducement  is  wanting  to  religion,  and 
the  dedication  of  a  temple;  if  we  consider  the  joint  en- 
couragement that  arises  from  so  unlimited  power  and 
goodness  1  Or  what  man  would  not  become  entirely  de- 
voted to  him,  who,  by  the  one  of  these,  we  are  a.'^sured, 
can  dn  all  things,  and  by  the  other,  v;ill  do  ivhot  is  btsi  ?' 
Nor  therefore  is  there  any  thing  immediatel)'  necdlul  to 
our  present  purpose,  the  eviction  of  God's  coniersableness 
with  men,  more  than  hath  been  already  said.  That  is, 
there  is  nothing  else  to  be  thought  on,  that  hath  any  nearer 
influence  thereon;  the  things  that  can  be  supposed  to 
have  such  influence,  being  none  else  than  his  power, 
knowledge,  and  goodness,  which  have  been  particularly 
evinced  from  the  creation  of  the  world,  both  to  have  been 
in  some  former  subject,  and  to  have  all  originally  met  in 
a  necessary  being,  that  alone  could  be  the  Creator  of  it. 
Which  necessary  being,  as  it  is  such,  appearing  also  to  be 
infinite,  and  absolutely  perfect;  the  influence  of  these  can- 
not but  the  more  abundantly  appear  to  be  such  as  can  and 
may  most  sufficiently  and  fully  correspond,  both  in  gene- 
ral to  the  several  exigencies  of  all  creatures,  and  more 
especially  to  all  the  real  necessities  and  reasonable  desires 
of  man:  so  that  our  main  purpose  seems  already  gained. 
Yet  because  it  may  be  giateful  when  we  are  persuaded 
that  things  are  so,  to  fortify  (as  much  as  we  can)  that  per- 
suasion, and  because  our  persuasion  concerning  these 
attributes  of  God  will  be  still  liable  to  assault  unless  we 
acknowledge  him  every  where  present ;  (nor  can  it  well  be 
conceivable  otherwise,  how  the  influence  of  his  knowledge, 
power,  and  goodness,  can  be  so  universal,  as  will  be  thought 
necessary  to  infer  a  universal  obligation  to  religion ;)  it 
will  be  therefore  requisite  to  add  somewhat  concerning 
his  omnipresence,  or  because  some,  that  love  to  be  very 
strictly  critical,  will  be  apt  to  think  that  term  restrictive  of 
his  presence  to  the  universe,  (as  supposing  to  be  present 
is  relative  to  somewhat  one  may  be  said  present  imto, 
whereas  they  will  say  without  the  universe,  is  nothing.) 
we  will  rather  choose  to  call  it  immensily.  For  though  it 
would  sufficiently  answer  our  purpose,  that  his  presence 
be  universal  to  all  his  creatures ;  3'et  even  this  is  to  be 
proved  by  such  arguments  as  will  conclude  him  simply 
immense;  which  therefore  will  with  the  greater  advantage 
infer  the  thing  we  intend.  This  part  of  divine  perfection 
we  will  acknowledge  to  have  been  impugned,  by  some 
that  have  professed  much  devotedne.ss  to  a  Deity  and 
religion :  we  will  therefore  charitably  suppose  that  oppo- 
sition to  have  been  joined  with  inadvertency  of  the  ill  ten- 
dency of  it ;  that  is,  how  unwarrantably  it  would  maim 
the  notion  of  the  former,  and  shake  the  foundations  of  the 
latter.  Nor  therefore  ought  that  charity  to  be  any  aUay  to 
a  just  zeal  for  so  great  concerns. 

It  seems  ihen,  first,  manifestly  repugnant  to  the  notion 
of  an  infinitely  perfect  Being,  to  suppose  it  less  than  sim- 
ply immense.  For,  upon  that  supposition  it  must  either 
be  limited  to  some  certain  place,  or  excluded  out  of  all. 
The  latter  of  these  would  be  most  openly  to  deny  it ;  as 
hath  with  irrefragable  evidence  been  abund?aitly  mani- 
fested by  the  most  learned  Dr.  More,-'  whereto  it  would 
be  needless  and  vain  to  attempt  to  add  any  thing.  Nor  is 
that  the  thing  pretended  to  by  the  sort  of  persons  I  no\> 
chiefly  intend. 

And  for  the  forvier,  I  would  inquire,  Is  amplitude  of 
essence  no  perfection'?  Or  were  the  confining  of  this 
Being  to  the  very  minutest  space  we  can  imagine,  no  de- 
traction fi-om  the  perfection  of  ill  What  if  the  amplitude 
of  that  glorious  and  ever-blessed  Essence  were  said  to  be 
only  of  that  extent  (may  it  be  spoken  with  all  reverence, 
and  resentment  of  the  unhappy  necessit)- we  have  ofma- 

%  Both  in  his  Dialogues  and  Enchiridion  Metaphya. 


54 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Fatit  I. 


king  so  mean  a  supposition)  as  to  have  been  confined  unto 
that  one  temple  to  which  of  old  he  chose  to  confine  his 
more  solemn  worship ;  that  he  could  be  essentially  pre- 
sent, only  here  at  once,  and  no  where  else;  were  $his  no 
detraction  1  They  that  think  him  only  to  replenish  and  be 
present  by  his  essence  in  the  highest  heaven,  (as  some  are 
wont  to  speak,)  would  they  not  confess  it  were  a  meaner 
and  much  lower  thought  to  suppose  that  presence  circum- 
scribed within  the  so  unconceivably  narrower  limits  as  the 
walls  of  a  house  1  If  they  would  pretend  to  ascribe  to 
him  some  perfection  beyond  this,  by  supposing  his  essen- 
tial presence  commensurable  to  the  vaster  territory  of  the 
highest  heavens;  even  by  the  same  supposition,  should 
they  deny  to  him  greater  perfection  than  they  ascribe. 
For  the  perfection  which  in  this  kind  they  should  ascribe, 
vf eve  finite  only;  but  that  which  they  should  deny,  were 
infinite. 

Again,  they  will  however  acknowledge  omnipotency  a 
perfection  included  in  the  notion  of  an  absolutely  perfect 
Being;  therefore  they  will  grant,  he  can  create  another 
world  (for  they  do  not  pretend  to  believe  this  infinite;  and 
if  they  did,  by  their  supposition,  they  should  give  away 
their  cause)  at  any  the  greatest  distance  we  can  conceive 
from  this ;  therefore  so  far  his  power  can  extend  itself 
But  what,  his  power  without  his  being?  What  then  is 
his  power  1  something,  or  nothing:'?  Nothing  can  do  no- 
thing ;  therefore  not  make  a  world.  It  is  then  some  be- 
ing; and  whose  being  is  it  but  his  own?  Is  it  a  created 
beingl  That  is  to  suppose  him,  first,  impotent,  and  then 
to  have  created  omnipotency,  when  he  could  do  nothing. 
"Whence  by  the  way  we  may  see  to  how  little  purpose 
that  distinction  can  be  applied  in  the  present  case  of  essen- 
tial and  virtual  contact,  where  the  essence  and  virtue  can- 
not but  be  the  same.  But  shall  it  be  said,  he  must,  in 
order  to  the  creating  such  another  world,  locally  move 
thither  where  he  designs  if?  I  ask  then.  But  can  he  not 
at  the  same  time  create  thousands  of  worlds  at  any  dis- 
tance from  this  round  about  it  ?  No  man  can  imagine  this 
to  be  impossible  to  him  that  can  do  all  things.  Where- 
fore of  such  extent  is  his  power,  and  consequently  his 
bemg.  Will  they  therefore  say  he  can  immensely,  if  he 
please,  diffuse  his  being,  but  he  voluntarily  contracts  it  1 
It  is  answered,  Tliai  is  altogether  impossible  to  a  being, 
that  is  whatsoever  it  is  by  a  simple  and  absolute  necessity, 
for  whatsoever  it  is  necessarily,  it  is  unalterably  and  eter- 
nally, or  is  pure  act,  and  in  a  possibility  to  be  nothing 
which  it  already  is  not.  Therefore  since  God  can  every 
where  exert  his  power,  he  is  necessarily,  already,  every 
where :  and  hence,  God's  immensity  is  the  true  reason  of 
his  immobility;  there  being  no  imaginable  space,  which 
he  doth  not  necessarily  replenish.  Whence  also,  the  sup- 
position of  his  being  so  confined  (as  was  said)  is  imme- 
diately repugnant  to  the  notion  of  a  necessary  being,  as 
well  as  of  an  absolutely  perfect,  which  hath  been  argued 
from  It.  We  might  moreover  add,  that  upon  the  same 
supposition  God  might  truly  be  said  to  have  made  a  crea- 
ture greater  than  himself,  (for  such  this  universe  apparently 
were,)  and  that  he  can  make  one  (as  they  must  confess 
who  deny  him  not  to  be  omnipotent)  most  unconceivably 
greater  than  this  imi  verse  now  is.  Nothing  therefore  seems 
more  manifest  than  that  God  is  immense,  or  (as  we  may 
express  it)  extrinsically  infinite,  with  respect  to  place  ;  as 
well  as  intrinsically,  in  resj>ect  to  the  plenitude  of  his 
perfection.  Only  it  may  be  requisite  to  consider  briefly 
what  is  said  against  it  by  the  otherwise  minded,  that  pre- 
tend not  to  deny  his  infinity  in  that  other  sense.  Wherein 
that  this  discourse  swell  not  beyond  just  bounds,  their 
strength  of  argument,  (for  it  will  "not  l>e  so  seasonable  here 
to  discuss  with  them  the  texts  of  Scripture  wont  to  be  in- 
sisted on  in  this  matter,)  shall  be  viewed  as  it  is  collected 
and  gathered  up  in  one  of  them.  And  that  shall  be,Cur- 
cellagHS,^  who  gives  it  as  succinctly  and  fully  as  any  I  have 
met  with  of  that  sort  of  men. 

The  doctrine  itself  we  may  take  from  him  thus,  First, 
On  the  negative  part,  by  way  of  denial  of  what  we  have 
been  hitherto  asserting,  he  says,  "  The  foundation,"  (that 
s  De  Vocibus  Trinit.  Ac. 

t  Unto  which  purpose  speaks  at  large  Volkelius  de  vera  Relig.  Quia 
^Ji  i,^Lf,J,'  ^^-^''^  et  sapientia  ad  res  omnes  extenditur,  uti  et  potestas 
riht  *l  ;^'  ^"^??  "^^^^l  P™?ens  ommaque  numine  euo  complere  di- 
citiur,  &c.  I.  J.  c.  27.    Slichwi^iu-s  Artie,  de  JUio  Dei.    Ad    P»  I3i»  6  7 


is,  of  a  distinction  of  Maresius's  to  which  he  is  replying, 
for  so  occasionally  comes  in  the  discourse,)  "viz.  the  in- 
finity of  the  divine  essence,  is  not  so  firm  as  i.s  commonly 
thought."  And  that  therefore  it  may  be  thought  less  firm, 
he  thinks  fit  to  cast  a  slur  upon  it,  by  making  it  the  doc- 
trine of  the  Stoics,  exprest  by  "Virgil,  Jori$  omnia  plena  ; 
(as  if  it  must  needs  be  false,  because  Virgil  said  it,  though 
I  could  tell,  if  it  were  worth  the  while,  where  "Virgil 
speaks  more  agreeably  to  his  sense  than  ours,  according 
to  which  he  might  as  well  have  interpreted  this  passage, 
as  divers  texts  of  Scripture ;  and  then  his  authority  might 
have  been  of  some  value;)  and  by  Lucan,  who  helps,  it 
seems,  to  disgrace  and  spoil  it;  Jupiter  est  quodcnnque 
vides,  quocunqize  meveris.  He  might,  if  he  had  a  mind  to 
make  it  thought  paganish,  have  quoted  a  good  many  more, 
but  then  there  might  have  been  some  danger  it  should 
pass  for  a  common  notion.  Next,  he  quotes  some  passages 
of  the  fathers  that  import  dislike  of  it,  about  which  we 
need  not  concern  oirrselves ;  for  the  question  is  not  what 
this  or  that  man  thought.  And  then,  for  the  positive 
account  of  his  own  judgment  in  the  case,  having  recited 
divers  texts  out  of  the  Bible  that  seemed  as  he  appre- 
hended to  make  against  him,  he  would  have  us  believe, 
that  these  all  speak  rather  of  God's  providence  and  power, 
by  which  he  concerns  himself  in  all  our  works,  words,  and 
thoughts,  wheresoever  we  live,  than  of  the  absolute  infinity 
of  his  essence.!  And  afterwards,  That  God  is  by  his  es- 
sence in  the  supreme  heaven,  where  he  inhabits  the  inac- 
cessible light,  but  thence  he  sends  out  from  himself  a  spirit, 
or  a  certain  force,  whither  he  pleases,  by  which  he  is  truly 
present,  and  works  there. 

But  proceed  we  to  his  reasons,  which  he  saith  are  not  to 
be  contemned.  We  shall  therefore  not  contemn  them  so 
far,  as  not  to  take  notice  of  them;  which  trouble  also 
the  reader  may  please  to  be  at,  and  afterward  do  as  he 
thinks  fit. 

I.  That  no  difl^erence  can  be  conceived  between  God 
and  creatures,  if  God,  as  they  commonly  speak,  be  wholly, 
in  every  point,  or  do  fill  all  the  points  of  the  universe 
with  his  whole  essence:  for  so  whatsoever  at  all  is,  will 
be  God  himself. 

Answ.  And  that  is  most  marvellous,  that  the  in-being 
or  one  thing  in  another  must  needs  take  away  all  their 
difference,  and  confound  them  each  with  other;  which 
sure  would  much  rather  argue  them  distinct.  For  certainly 
it  cannot,  without  great  impropriety,  be  said  that  any  thing 
is  in  itself;  and  is  both  the  container  and  contained.  How 
were  these  thoughts  in  his  mindl  And  these  very  notions 
which  he  opposes  to  each  other,  so  as  not  to  be  confounded 
with  his  mind,  and  consequently  with  one  another?  So 
that  it  is  a  great  wonder  he  was  not  of  both  opinions  at 
once.  And  how  did  he  think  his  soul  to  be  in  his  body, 
which,  though  substantially  united  with  it,  (and  that  is 
somewhat  more,  as  we  will  suppose  he  knew  was  com- 
monly held,  than  to  be  intimately  present,)  was  not  yet 
the  same  thing?  However,  himself  acknowledges  the 
power  and  providence  of  God  to  be  every  where  :  and 
then  at  least  every  thing  must,  it  seems,  be  the  very  power 
and  providence  of  God.  But  he  thought,  it  may  be,  only 
of  confuting  the  words  of  Lucan,  and  chastising  his  poetic 
liberty.  And  if  he  would  have  been  at  the  pains  to  turn 
all  their  strains  and  raptures  into  propositions,  and  so  have 
gravely  fallen  to  confuting  them,  he  might  perhaps  have 
found  as  proper  an  exercise  for  his  logic  as  this.  As  for 
his  talk  of  a  whole,  whereof  we  acknowledge  na  parts, 
(as  if  he  imagined  the  divine  essence  to  be  compounded 
of  such,  he  should  have  said  so,  and  have  proved  it,)  it  is 
an  absurd  scheme  of  speech,  which  may  be  left  to  him, 
and  them  that  use  it,  to  make  their  best  of. 

2.  No  idolatry  can  be  committed,  if  there  be  not  the 
least  point  to  be  found,  that  is  not  wholly  full  of  whole 
God :  for  whithersoever  worship  shall  be  directed,  it  shall 
be  directed  to  Grod  himself,  who  will  be  no  less  there  than 
in  heaven. 

Answ.  This  proceeds  upon  the  supposition  that  the 
former  would  be  granted  as  soon  as  it  should  be  heard,  as 

Nee  loqiiitur  DimH  de  Spiritu  Sann.fo,  ni"  peculiaris  qiiidem  Dei  .^piritus 
est.  sed  de  SpiriUi  Dei  simpliciter.  Nee  dicit  Spiritum  i.stura  utiinue  re  esse 
.s(d  tantum  docet  nullum,  esse  locum,  ad  ouem  i.s  iiequeat  pertingere,  &c. 
b.0  also  F.  Socin.  Smalcius.  And  {tlioiish  not  altogether  so  expressly  M 
(he  reati  Vorstiua,  Crellius,  ^-e.  «-        » 


Chap.  VI. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


55 


a  self-evident  principle,  that  whatsoever  is  in  another,  is 
that  in  whict  it  is ;  and  so  his  consequence  were  most  un- 
deniable. But  though  we  acknowledge  God  to  be  in  every- 
thing, yet  so  to  worship  him  in  any  thing,  as  if  his  essen- 
tial presence  were  confined  thereto,  while  it  ought  to  be 
conceived  of  as  immense,  this  is  idolatry :  and  therefore 
they  who  so  conceiv^e  of  it,  as  confined,  (or  tied  in  any  re- 
spect, wherein  he  hath  not  so  tied  it  himself,)  are  concern- 
ed to  beware  of  running  upon  this  rock. 

3.  Nor  can  the  opinion  of  fanatics  be  solidly  refuted, 
who  call  themselves  spiritual,  when  they  determine  God 
to  be  all  in  all ;  to  do  not  only  good  but  evil  things,  be- 
cause he  is  to  be  accoimted  to  be  essentially  in  all  the 
atoms  of  the  world,  in  whole ;  and  as  a  common  soul,  by 
which  all  parts  of  the  universe  do  act. 

Answ.  We  may  in  time  make  trial  whether  they  can  be 
refuted  or  no,  or  whether  any  solid  ground  will  be  left  for 
it;  at  this  time  it  will  suffice  to  say,  that  though  he  be  pre- 
sent every  where  as  a  necessary  being,  yet  he  acts  as  a  free 
cause,  and  according  as  his  wisdom,  his  good  pleasure,  his 
holiness  and  justice  do  guide  his  action. 

4.  So  God  will  be  equally  present  with  the  wicked,  and 
with  the  holy  and  godly,  with  the  damned  in  hell,  and 
devils,  as  with  the  blessed  in  heaven,  or  Christ  himself. 

Ansxo.  So  he  will,  in  respect  of  his  essential  presence. 
How  he  is  otherwise  (distinguishingly  enough)  present  in 
liis  temple,  we  shall  have  occasion  hereafter  to  show. 

5.  That  I  say  not  how  shameful  it  is  to  think,  that  the 

u  In  his  Dialogues. 


most  pure  and  holy  God  should  be  as  much  in  the  most 
nasty  places  as  in  heaven,  &c.  (I  forbear  to  recite  the  rest 
of  this  uncleanly  argument,  which  is  strong  in  nothing  but 
ill  savour.)     But  for 

Answ.  How  strange  a  notion  was  this  of  holiness,  by 
which  it  is  set  in  opposition  to  corporeal  filthiness  !  As  if 
a  holy  man  should  lose  or  very  much  blemish  his  sanctity, 
by  a  casual  fall  into  a  puddle.  Indeed,  ii  sense  must  give 
us  measures  of  God,  and  every  thing  must  be  reckoned  an 
offence  to  him  that  is  so  to  it,  we  shall  soon  frame  to  our- 
selves a  God  altogether  such  a  one  as  ourselves.  The 
Epicureans  themselves  would  have  been  ashamed  to  reason 
or  conceive  thus  of  God,  who  tell  us  the  Divine  Being  is 
as  little  capable  of  receiving  a  stroke,  as  the  inane  ;  and 
surely  (in  proportion)  of  any  sensible  offence.  We  might 
as  well  suppose  him  in  danger,  as  Dr.  More"  fitly  expresses 
it,  to  be  hurt  with  a  thorn,  as  offended  with  an  ill  smell. 

We  have  then  enough  to  assure  us  of  God's  absolute 
immensity  and  omnipresence,  and  nothing  of  that  value 
against  it  as  ought  to  shake  our  belief  herein.  And  surely 
the  consideration  of  this,  added  to  the  other  of  his  perfec- 
tions, (and  which  tends  so  directly  to  facilitate  and 
strengthen  our  persuasion  concerning  the  rest,)  may  render 
us  assuredly  certain,  that  we  shall  find  him  a  conversable 
Being;  if  we  seriously  apply  ourselves  to  converse  with 
him,  and  will  but  allow  him  the  liberty  of  that  temple 
within  us,  whereof  we  are  hereafter  (with  his  leave  and 
help)  to  treat  more  distinctly  and  at  large. 


THE 


LIVING     TEMPLE. 


PART  II. 

CONTAINING  ANIMADVERSIONS  ON  SPINOSA,  AND  A  FRENCH  WRITER  PRETENDING 

TO  CONFUTE  HIM. 


A  RECAPITULATION  OF  THE  FORMER  PART,  AND  AN  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  DESTITUTION 
AND  RESTITUTION  OF  GOD'S  TEMPLE  AMONG  MEN. 


A   PREFACE, 

SHOWING  THE  INDUCEMENT  AND  GENERAL  CONTENTS  OF  THIS  SECOND  PART.  THE  OCCASION  OP  CONSIDERING  SPmOSA,  AND  A 
FRENCH  WRITER  WHO  PRETENDS  TO  CONFUTE  HIM.  A  SPECIMEN  OF  THE  WAY  AND  STRENGTH  OF  THE  FORMER'S  REASONING, 
AS  AN  INTRODUCTION  TO  A  MORE  DISTINCT  EXAMINATION  OF  SUCH  OF  HIS  POSITIONS,  AS  THE  DESIGN  OF  THIS  DISCOURSE  WAS 
MORE  DIRECTLY  CONCERNED  IN. 

It  is  not  worth  the  while  to  trouble  the  reader  with  an  account  why  the  progress  of  this  work  (begun  many  years 
ago,  in  a  former  part)  hath  been  so  long  delayed  ;  or  why  it  is  now  resumed.  There  are  eases  wherein  things  too 
little  for  public  notice,  maybe  sufficient  reasons  to  oneself:  and  such  self-satisfaction  is  all  that  can  be  requisite,  in  a 
matter  of  no  more  importance  than  that  circumstance  only,  of  the  time  of  sending  abroad  a  discourse,  of  such  a  nature 
and  subject,  as  that  if  it  can  be  useful  at  any  time,  will  be  so  at  all  times.  The  business  of  the  present  discourse,  is 
religion  ;  which  is  not  the  concern  of  an  age  only,  or  of  this  or  that  time,  but  of  all  times ;  and  which,  in  respect  of  its 
grounds  and  basis,  is  eternal,  and  can  never  cease  or  vary.  But  if  in  its  use  and  exercise  it  do  at  any  time  more 
visibly  languish,  by  attempts  against  its  foundations,  an  endeavour  to  establish  them,  if  it  be  not  altogether  unfit  to 
serve  that  purpose,  will  not  be  liable  to  be  blamed  as  unseasonable.  Every  one  will  understand,  that  a  design  further 
to  establish  the  grounds  of  religion,  can  have  no  other  meaning,  than  only  to  represent  their  stability  unshaken  by  any 
attempts  upon  them;  that  being  all  that  is  either  possible  in  this  case,  or  needful.  Nothing  more  is  possible  :  for  if 
there  be  not  already,  in  the  nature  of  things,  a  sufficient  foundation  of  religion,  it  is  now  too  late  ;  for  their  course  and 
order  cannot  begin  again.  Nor  is  any  thing,  besides  such  a  representation,  needful :  lor  have  the  adventures  of  daring 
wits  (as  they  are  fond  of  being  thought)  altered  the  nature  of  things'?  Or  hath  their  mere  breath  thrown  the  world 
off  from  its  ancient  basis,  and  new-moulded  the  universe,  so  as  to  make  things  be  after  the  way  of  their  own  hearts  1 
Or  have  they  prevailed  upon  themselves,  firmly  to  believe  things  are  as  they  would  wish  1 

One  would  be  ashamed  to  be  of  that  sort  of  creature,  called  Alan,  and  count  it  an  unsufTerable  reproach  to  be  long 
unresolved,  Whether  there  ought  to  be  such  a  thing  in  the  world  as  religion,  yea,  or  no.  Whatever  came  on't,  or  what- 
soever I  did  or  did  not  besides,  I  would  drive  this  business  to  an  issue  ;  I  would  never  endure  to  be  long  in  suspense 
about  so  weighty  and  important  a  question.  But  if  I  inclined  to  the  negative,  I  would  rest  in  nothing  short  of  the 
plaiinest  demonstration :  for  I  am  to  dispute  against  mankind ;  and  eternity  hangs  upon  it.  If  I  misjudge,  I  run 
counter  to  the  common  sentiments  of  all  the  world,  and  am  lost  for  ever.  The  opposers  of  it  have  nothing  but  inclina- 
tion to  oppose  it,  with  a  bold  jest  now  and  then.  But  if  I  consider  the  unrefuted  demonstrations  brought  for  it,  with 
the  consequences,  religion  is  the  last  thing  in  all  the  world  upon  which  1  would  adventure  to  break  a  jest.  And  I 
would  ask  such  as  have  attempted  to  argue  against  it,  Have  their  strongest  arguments  conquered  their  fear  1  Have  they 
no  suspicion  left,  tha;t  the  other  side  of  the  question  may  prove  true  1  They  have  done  all  they  can,  by  often  repeating 
their  faint  despairing  wishes,  and  the  mutterings  of  their  hearts,  "  No  God !  no  God  V  to  make  themselves  believe 
there  is  none  ;  when  yet  the  restless  tossings  to  and  fro  of  their  uneasy  minds ;  their  tasking  and  torturing  that  little 
residue  of  wit  and  common  sense,  which  their  riot  hath  left  them,  (the  excess  of  which  latter,  as  well  shows  as  causes 
the  defect  of  the  former,)  to  try  every  new  method  and  scheme  of  atheism  they  hear  of,  implies  their  distrust  of  all; 
and  their  suspicion,  that  do  what  they  can,  things  will  still  be  as  they  were,  /.  e.  most  adverse  and  unfavourable  to  that 
way  of  living,  which  however  at  a  venture,  they  had  before  resolved  on.  Therefore,  they  find  it  necessarj'-  to  continue 
their  contrivances,  how  more  etiectiially  to  disburden  themselves  of  any  obligation  to  be  religious  ;  and  hope,  at  least, 
some  or  other  great  wit  may  reach  further  than  their  own  ;  and  that  either  by  some  new  model  of  thonghts,  or  by  not 
thinking,  it  may  be  possible  at  length  to  argue  or  wink  the  Deity  into  nothing,  and  all  religion  out  of  the  world. 

And  we  are  really  to  do  the  age  that  right,  as  to  acknowledge,  the  genius  of  it  aims  at  more  consistency  and  agree- 
ment with  itself,  and  more  cleverly  to  reconcile  notions  with  common  practice  than  heretofore.  Men  seem  to  be  grown 
weary  of  the  old  dull  way  of  practising  all  manner  of  lewdness,  and  pretending  to  repent  of  them;  to  sin,  and  say 
they  are  sorry  for  it.  The  running  this  long-beaten  circular  tract  of  doing  and  repenting  the  same  things,  looks  ridicu- 
lously, and  they  begin  to  be  ashamed  on't.  A  less  interrupted  and  more  progressive  course  in  their  licentious  ways,  looks 
braver ;  and  they  count  it  more  plausible  to  disbelieve  this  world  to  have  any  ruler  at  all,  than  to  suppose  it  to  hava 


PREFACE.  57 

such  a  one  as  they  can  cheat  and  mock  with  so  easy  and  ludicrous  a  repentance,  or  reconcile  to  their  wickedness,  only 
by  calling  themselves  wicked,  while  they  still  mean  to  continue  so.  And  perhaps  of  any  other  repentance  they  have 
not  heard  much;  or  if  they  have,  they  count  it  a  more  heroical,  or  feel  it  an  easier  thing  to  laugh  away  the  fear  of 
any  future  account  or  punishment,  than  to  endure  the  severities  of  a  serious  repentance,  and  a  regular  life.  Nor  can 
they,  however,  think  the  torments  of  any  hell  so  little  tolerable  as  those  of  a  sober  and  pious  life  upon  earth.  And  for 
their  happening  to  prove  everlasting,  they  think  they  may  run  the  hazard  of  that.  For  as  they  can  make  a  sufficient 
shift  to  secure  themselves  from  the  latter  sort  of  torments,  so  they  believe  the  champions  of  their  caube  have  taken 
sufficient  care  to  secure  them  from  the  former. 

As  religion  hath  its  gospel  and  evangelists,  so  hath  atheism  and  irreligion  too.  There  are  tidings  of  peace  sent  to 
such  as  shall  repent  and  turn  to  God  ;  and  there  have  been  those  appointed,  whose  business  it  should  be  to  publish 
and  expound  them  to  the  world.  This  also  is  the  method  for  carrying  on  the  design  of  irreligion.  Doctrines  are 
invented  to  make  men  fearless,  and  believe  they  need  no  repentance.  And  some  have  taken  the  part  to  assert  and 
defend  such  doctrines,  to  evangelize  the  world,  and  cry  "  Peace,  peace,"  to  men,  upon  these  horrid  terms.  And  these 
undertake  for  the  common  herd,  encourage  them  to  mdulge  themselves  in  all  manner  of  liberty,  while  they  watch  for 
them,  and  guard  the  coasts:  and  no  faith  was  ever  more  implicit  or  resigned,  than  the  infidelity  and  disbelief  of 
the  more  unthinking  sort  of  these  men.  They  reckon  it  is  not  every  one's  part  to  think.  It  is  enough  for  the  most 
to  be  boldly  wicked,  and  credit  their  common  cause,  by  an  open  contempt  of  God  and  religion.  The  otlier  warrant 
them  safe,  and  confidently  tell  them  they  may  securely  disbelieve  all  that  ever  hath  been  said,  to  make  a  religious 
regular  life  be  thought  necessary;  as  only  invented  frauds  of  sour  and  ill-natured  men,  that  envy  to  mankind  the 
felicity  whereof  their  nature  hath  made  them  capable,  and  which  their  own  odd  preternatural  humour  makes  them 
neglect  and  censure. 

And  for  these  defenders  of  the  atheistical  cause,  it  being  their  part  and  province  to  cut  off  tlie  aids  of  reason  from 
religion,  to  make  it  seem  an  irrational  and  a  ridiculous  thing,  and  to  warrant  and  justify  the  disuse  and  contempt  of 
it,  and  as  it  were,  to  cover  the  siege,  wherewith  the  common  rout  have  begirt  the  temple  of  God;  they  have  had  less 
leisure  themselves,  to  debauch  and  wallow  in  more  grossly  sensual  impurities.  Herewith  the  thinking  part  did  kss 
agree:  and  they  might  perhaps  count  it  a  greater  thing  to  make  debauchees  than  to  be  such,  and  reckon  it  was  glory 
enough  to  them  to  head  and  lead  on  the  numerous  throng,  and  pleasure  enough  to  see  them  they  had  so  thoroughly 
disciplined  to  the  service,  throw  dirt  and  squibs  at  the  sacred  pile,  the  dwelling  of  God  among  men  on  earth,  and  cry, 
"  Down  with  it  even  to  the  ground."  Nor  for  this  sort  of  men,  w^hose  business  w-as  only  to  be  done  by  noise  and 
clamour,  or  by  jest  and  laughter,  we  could  think  them  no  more  fit  to  be  discoursed  with  than  a  whirlwind,  or  an  ignis 
fatuus.  But  for  such  as  have  assumed  to  themselves  the  confidence  to  pretend  to  reason,  it  was  not  fit  they  should 
have  cause  to  think  themselves  neglected.  Considering  therefore,  that  if  the  existence  of  a  Deity  were  fully  proved, 
{i.  e.  such  as  must  be  the  fit  object  of  religion,  or  of  the  honour  of  a  temple,)  all  the  little  cavils  against  it  must  signify 
nothing,  (because  the  same  thing  cannot  be  both  true  and  false,)  we  have  in  the  former  part  of  this  discourse,  en- 
deavoured to  assert  so  much  in  an  argumentative  way.  And  therefore  first  laid  down  such  a  notion  of  God,  as  even 
atheists  themselves,  wiiile  they  deny  him  to  exist,  cannot  but  grant  to  be  the  tnve  notion  of  the  thing  thej-  deny  ;  tisr. 
summarily  that  he  can  be  no  other  than  a  being  absolutely  perfect.  And  thereupon  next  proceed  to  evince  the  exist- 
ence of  such  a  being.  And  whereas  this  might  have  been  attempted  in  another  method,  as  was  noted  Part  1.  CA.  1. 
by  concluding  the  existence  of  such  a  being  first  from  the  idea  of  it,  which  (as  a  fundamental  perfection)  involves  ex- 
istence ;  yea,  and  necessity  of  existence,  most  apparently  in  it.  Because  that  was  clamoured  at  as  sophistical  and 
captious,  (though  very  firm  unsliding  steps  might,  with  caution,  be  taken  in  that  way,*)  yet  we  rather  chose  the  other 
as  plainer,  more  upon  the  square,  more  easily  intelligible  and  convictive,  and  less  liable  to  exception  in  any  kind; 
i.  e.  rather  to  begin  at  the  bottom,  and  rise  from  necessity  of  existence,  to  absolute  perfection,  than  to  begin  at  the  top, 
and  prove  downward,  from  absokite  perfection,  necessity  of  existence. 

Now,  if  it  do  appear  from  what  hath  been  said  concerning  the  nature  of  necessarj',  self-existing  being,  that  it  cannot 
but  be  absolutely  perfect,  even  as  it  is  such,  since  nothing  is  more  evident  than  that  some  being  or  other  doth  exist 
necessarily,  or  of  itself,  our  point  is  gained  without  more  ado ;  i.  e.  we  have  an  object  of  religion,  or  one  to  whom  a 
temple  duly  belongs.  We  thereupon  used  some  endeavour  to  make  that  good,  and  secure  that  more  compendious  way 
to  our  end  ;  as  may  be  seen  in  the  former  Part.  Which  was  endeavoured  as  it  was  a  nearer  and  more  expeditions 
course ;  not  that  the  main  cause  of  religion  did  depend  upon  the  immediate  and  self-evident  reciprocal  connexion  erf 
the  terms  necessary  existence,  and  absolute  perfectiori,  as  we  shall  see  hereafter  in  the  follow-ing  discourse;  but  because 
there  are  other  hypotheses,  that  proceed  either  upon  the  denial  of  any  necessary  being  that  is  absolutely  perfect,  or  upon 
the  assertion  of  some  necessary  being  that  is  not  absolutely  perfect ;  it  hence  appears  requisite,  to  undertake  the  exa- 
mination of  what  is  said  to  either  of  these  purposes,  and  to  show  with  how  little  pretence  a  necessary  most  perfect 
being  is  denied,  or  any  such  imperfect  necessary  being,  is  either  asserted  or  imagined. 

We  shall  therefore  in  this  Second  Part,  first,  take  into  consideration  what  is  (with  equal  absurdity  and  impiety) 
asserted  by  one  author,  of  the  identity  of  all  substance,  of  the  impossibility  of  one  substance  being  produced  by  another, 
and  consequently  of  one  necessary  self-existing  being,  pretended  with  gross  self-repugnancy,  to  be  endued  with  infi- 
nite perfections,  but  really  represented  the  common  receptacle  of  all  imaginable  imperfection  and  confusion. — Next, 
what  is  asserted  by  another  in  avowed  opposition  to  him,  of  a  necessary  self-existent  being,  that  is  at  the  same  time 
said  to  be  essentially  imperfect. — Then  we  shall  recapitulate  what  had  been  discoursed  in  the  former  Part,  for  proof 
of  such  a  necessarily  existent  and  absolutely  perfect  being,  as  is  there  asserted. — Thence  we  shall  proceed  to  show  how 
reasonably  Scripture  testimony  is  to  be  relied  upon,  in  reference  to  some  things  concerning  God,  and  the  religion  of 
his  temple,  which  either  are  not  so  clearly  demonstrable,  or  not  at  all  discoverable  the  rational  way. — And  shall  lastly 
show  how  it  hath  come  to  pass,  if  God  be  such  as  he  hath  been  represented,  so  capable  of  a  temple  with  man,  so  apt 
and  inclined  to  inhabit  such  a  one,  that  he  should  ever  not  do  so  ;  or  how  such  a  temple  should  ever  cease,  or  be  unin- 
habited and  desolate,  that  the  known  -R-ay  of  its  restitution  may  be  the  more  regardable  and  marvellous  in  our  eyes. 

The  authors  against  whom  we  are  to  be  concerned,  are  Benedictus  Spinosa,  a  Jew,  and  an  anonymous  French  writer, 
who  pretends  to  confute  him.  And  the  better  to  prepare  our  way,  we  shall  go  on  to  preface  something  concerning  the 
former,  viz.  Spinosa,  whose  scheme,+  though,  with  great  pretence  of  devotion,  it  acknowledges  a  Deity,  yet  so  con- 
founds this  his  fictitious  deity  with  every  substantial  being  in  the  w-orld  besides,  that  upon  the  whole  it  appears  al- 
together inconsistent  with  any  rational  exercise  or  sentiment  of  religion  at  all.  And  indeed,  the  mere  pointing  with 
the  finger  at  the  most  discernible  and  absurd  weakness  of  some  of  his  principal  supports,  might  be  sufficient  to  over- 
mrn  his  whole  fabric ;  though  perhaps  he  thought  the  fraudulent  artifice  of  contriving  it  geometricaDy  must-conloimd 
all  the  world,  and  make  men  think  it  not  liable  to  he  attacked  in  any  part. 

But  whether  it  can,  or  no,  we  shall  make  some  present  trial ;  and  for  a  previous  essay,  (to  show  that  he  is  not  invul- 
nerable, and  that  his  scales  do  not  more  closely  cohere,  than  those  of  his  brother-leviathan,)  do  but  compare  his  defi- 
nition of  an  attribute,*  "  That  which  the  understanding  perceives  of  substance  ;  as  constituting  the  essence  thereof,' 

*  As  by  tJie  excellent  Dr.  Cudworth,  in  liis  Intellectual  System,  we  find  ia  done.  ♦  As  U  laid  down  in  his  Poslhvnious  Elhics. 

I  Etliic.  Put  1.  DkL  4. 


68  PREFACE. 

■with  his  fifth  Proposition,  "  There  cannot  be  two  or  more  substances  of  the  same  nature  or  attribute  ;"  which  is  as 
much  as  to  say  that  two  substances  cannot  be  one  and  the  same  substance.  For  the  attribute  of  any  substance  (saitn 
he)  constitutes  its  essence  ;  whereas  the  essence  therefore  of  one  thing,  cannot  be  the  essence  of  another  thing,  if  such 
an  attribute  be  the  essence  of  one  substance,  it  cannot  be  the  essence  of  another  substance.  A  rare  d'scovery  !  and 
which  needed  mathematical  demonstration!  Well,  and  what  now  1  Nothing,  it  is  true,  can  be  plainer,  if  by  the 
same  attribute  or  nature,  he  means  numerically  the  same  ;  it  only  signifies  one  thing  is  not  another  thing.  But  if  he 
mean  there  cannot  be  two  things  or  substances,  of  the  same  special  or  general  nature,  he  hath  his  whole  business  yet 
to  do  ;  which  how  he  does,  we  shall  see  in  time. 

But  now  compare  herewith  his  defuiition  of  what  he  thinks  fit  to  dignify  with  the  sacred  name  of  God :  "  By  God 
(saith  he*)  I  understand  a  being  absolutely  infinite  ;  i.e.  a  substance  consisting  of  infinite  attributes,  every  one  whereof 
expresses  an  iniinite  essence."  And  behold  the  admirable  agreement !  how  amicably  his  definition  of  an  attribute, 
and  that  mentioned  proposition,  accord  with  this  definition  (as  he  calls  it)  of  God  !  There  cannot  be  two  substances, 
he  saith,  that  have  the  same  attribute,  i.  e.  the  same  essence.  But  now  it  seems  the  same  substance  may  have  infinite 
attributes,  i.  e.  infinite  essences  !  O  yes,  very  conveniently  :  for  he  telist  you  that  two  attributes  really  distinct,  we 
cannot  conclude  do  constitute  two  divers  substances.  And  why  do  they  not  1  Because  it  belongs  to  the  nature  of 
substance,  that  each  of  its  attributes  be  conceived  by  itself,  &c.  Let  us  consider  his  assertion,  and  his  reason  for  it. 
He  determines,  you  see,  two  really  distinct  attributes  do  not  constitute  two  divers  substances.  You  must  not  here 
take  any  other  man's  notion  of  an  attribute,  according  to  which,  there  may  be  accidental  attributes,  that,  we  are  sure, 
would  not  infer  diversity  of  substances  for  their  subjects;  or,  there  may  be  also  essential  ones,  that  only  flow  from  the 
essence  of  the  thing  to  which  they  belong ;  so,  too,  nobody  doubts  one  thing  may  have  many  properties.  But  we  must 
take  his  own  notion  of  an  attribute,  according  whereto  it  constitutes,  or  (which  is  all  one)  is,  that  very  essence.  Now 
-will  not  such  attributes  as  these,  being  really  distinct,  make  divers  substances  1  Surely  what  things  are  essentially 
diverse,  must  be  concluded  to  be  most  diverse.  But  these  attributes  are  by  himself  supposed  to  be  really  distinct, 
and  to  constitute  (which  is  to  be)  the  essence  of  the  substance.  And  how  is  that  one  thing,  or  one  substance,  which 
hath  many  essences  1  If  the  essence  of  a  thing  be  that,  by  which  it  is  what  it  is,  surely  the  plurality  of  essences  must 
make  a  plurality  of  things. 

But  it  may  be  said.  Cannot  one  thing  be  compounded  of  two  or  more  things  essential  diverse,  as  the  soul  and  body 
of  a  man  ;  whence  therefore,  the  same  thing,  viz.  a  man,  will  have  two  essences  1  This  is  true,  but  impertinent. 
For  the  very  notion  of  composition  signifies  these  are  two  things  united,  not  identified,  that  are  capable  of  being  again 
separated  ;  and  that  the  third  thing,  which  results  from  them  both  united,  contains  them  still  distinct  from  one  another, 
not  the  same. 

But  it  may  be  said,  though  these  attributes  are  acknowledged  and  asserted  to  be  distinct  from  one  another,  they  are 
yet  found  in  one  and  the  same  substance  common  to  them  all.  And  this  no  more  ought  to  be  reckoned  repugnant  to 
common  reason,  than  the  philosophy  heretofore  in  credit,  which  taught  that  the  vast  diversity  of  forms  throughout  the 
imiverse,  which  were  counted  so  many  distinct  essences,  do  yet  all  reside  in  the  same  first  matter,  as  the  common  re- 
ceptacle of  them  all. 

Nor  yet  doth  this  salve  the  business,  were  that  philosophy  never  so  sure  and  sacred.  For  you  must  consider  he 
asserts  an  attribute  is  that  which  constitutes  the  essence  of  the  substance  in  which  it  is.  But  that  philosophy  never 
taught  the  forms  lodged  in  the  same  common  matter  were  its  essence,  though  they  were  supposed  to  essentiate  the 
composifa,  which  resulted  from  their  union  therewith.  Yea,  it  did  teach  they  were  so  little  the  essence  of  that  common 
matter,  that  they  might  be  expelled  out  of  it,  and  succeeded  by  new  ones,  and  yet  the  matter  which  received  them  still 
remain  the  same.  But  that  an  attribute  should  be  supposed  to  be  the  essence  of  the  substance  to  which  it  belongs  ; 
and  that  another  superadded  attribute,  which  is  also  the  essence  of  .substance,  should  not  make  another  .substance 
essentially  distinct,  is  an  assertion  as  repugnant  to  common  sense,  as  two  and  two  make  not  four.  But  that  which 
completes  the  jest,  (though  a  tremendous  one  upon  so  awful  a  subject,)  is,  that  this  author*  should  so  gravely  tell  the 
■world,  they  who  are  not  of  his  sentiment,  being  ignorant  of  the  causes  of  things,  confound  all  things ;  imagine  trees 
and  men  speaking  alike,  confound  the  divine  nature  with  the  human,  &c.  Who  would  imagine  this  to  be  the  com- 
plaining voice  of  one  so  industriously  labouring  to  mingle  heaven  and  earth !  and  to  make  God,  and  men,  £ind  beasts, 
and  stones,  and  trees,  nil  one  and  the  same  individual  substance! 

And  now  let  us  consider  the  reason  of  that  assertion  of  his ;  why  two  attributes  really  distinct,  do  not  constitute  two 
beings,  or  two  distinct  substances;  because,  saith  he,§  it  is  of  the  nature  of  substance  that  each  of  its  attributes  be 
conceived  by  itself,  &c.  A  marvellous  reason !  Divers  attributes,  each  whereof,  as  before,  constitutes  the  essence  of 
substance,  do  not  make  divers  substances;  because  those  attributes  may  be  conceived  apart  from  each  other,  and  are 
not  produced  bj'  one  another.  It  was  too  plain  to  need  a  proof,  (as  ■was  observed  before,)  that  there  cannot  be  two 
substances  of  one  attribute,  or  of  one  essence,  (as  his  notion  of  an  attribute  is,)  i.  e.  two  are  not  one.  But  that  two 
attributes  or  essences  of  substance,  cannot  make  two  substances,  because  they  are  diverse,  is  very  surprisingly  strange. 
This  was  (as  Cicero  upon  as  good  an  occasion  speaks)  not  to  consider,  but  to  cast  lots  what  to  say.  And  it  deserves 
observation  too,  how  well  this  assertion,  "  That  two  distinct  attributes  do  not  constitute  two  distinct  substances,"  agrees 
■with  thatjii  "  Two  substances  having  divers  attributes,  have  nothing  common  between  them."  This  must  certainly 
suppose  the  diversity  of  attributes  to  make  the  greatest  diversity  of  substances  imaginable;  when  they  admit  not  there 
should  be  any  thing  (not  the  least  thing)  common  between  them  !     And  yet  they  make  not  distinct  substances  I 

But  this  was  only  to  make  way  for  what  was  to  follow,  the  overthrow  of  the  creation.  A  thing  he  was  so  over- 
intent  upon,  that  in  the  heat  of  his  zeal  and  haste,  he  makes  all  fly  asunder  before  him,  and  overturns  even  his  own 
batteries  as  fast  as  he  raises  them ;  says  and  unsays,  does  and  undoes,  at  all  adventures.  Here  two  substances  are 
supposed  having  distinct  attributes,  that  is,  distinct  essences,  to  have  therefore  nothing  common  between  them  ;  and 
yet  presently  after,  the  two,  or  never  so  many  distinct  attributes,  give  unto  substance  two,  or  never  so  many  distinct 
essences,  yet  they  shall  not  be  so  much  as  two,  but  one  only.  For  to  the  query  put  by  himself.  By  what  sign  one  may 
discern  the  diversity  of  substances  1  he  roundly  answers,ir  The  following  propositions  would  show  there  was  no  other 
substance  but  one,  and  that  one  infinite,  and  therefore  how  substances  were  to  be  diversified  would  be  inquired  in 
vain.  Indeed,  it  would  be  in  vain,  if  knowing  them  to  have  different  essences,  we  must  not  yet  call  them  different 
substances.  But  how  the  following  propositions  do  show  there  can  be  no  more  than  one  substance,  we  shall  see  in 
time.     We  shall  for  the  present  take  leave  of  him,  till  we  meet  him  again  in  the  following  discourse. 

•  Definit.  6.  t  Schol.  in  Prop.  10.  J  Schol,  S,  in  Prop.  8.  Part  k  §  Schol.  in  Prop.  10.  D  Prop.  2.  IT  Schol.  in  Prop.  10. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


PART  IL 


CHAPTER  L 

WHEREIN  tS  SHOWN,  THE  DESTRUCTIVENESS  OF*  SPINOSa's  SCHEME  AND  DESFGN  TO  RELIGION  AND  THE  TEMPLE  OF  GOD.  THE 
REPUGNANCY  OF  HIS  DOCTRINE  TO  THIS  ASSERTION — THAT  WHATSOEVER  EXISTS  NECESSARILY  AND  OF  ITSELF,  IS  AESOLUTELT 
PERFECT;  WHICH  IS  THEREFORE  FURTHER  WEIGHED.  IIIS  VAIN  ATTEMPT  TO  PROVE  WHAT  HE  DESIGNS.  HIS  SECOND  PROPO- 
SITION CONSIDERED.  HIS  DEFINITION  OF  A  SUBSTANCE  DEFECTIVE.  PROVES  NOT  HIS  PURPOSE.  HIS  THIRD^  FOURTH,  AND 
FIFTH  PROPOSITION.      HIS  EIGHTH  SCHOLIA.       THE  MANUDUCTIO  AD  PANTOSOPHIAM. 


Hitherto  we  have  discoursed  only  of  the  Owner  of  this 
temple,  and  shown  to  whom  it  rightfully  belongs ;  viz. 
That  there  is  one  only  necessary,  self-existing,  and  most 
absolutely-perfect  being,  the  glorious  and  ever-blessed  God 
— who  is  capable  of  our  converse,  and  inclined  thereto; 
whom  we  are  to  conceive  as  justly  claiming  a  temple  with 
us,  and  ready,  upon  our  willing  surrender,  to  erect  in  us, 
or  repair  such  a  one,  make  it  habitable,  to  inhabit  and  re- 
plenish it  with  his  holy  and  most  delectable  presence,  and 
converse  with  us  therein  suitably  to  himself  and  us ;  i.  e. 
to  his  own  excellency  and  fulness,  and  to  our  indigency 
and  wretchedness.  And  now  tlie  order  of  discourse  would 
lead  us  to  behold  the  sacred  structure  rising,  and  view  the 
surprising  methods  by  which  it  is  brought  about,  that  any 
such  thing  should  have  place  in  such  a  world  as  this.  But 
we  must  yield  to  stay,  and  be  detained  a  little  by  some 
things  of  greater  importance  than  merely  the  more  even 
shape  and  order  of  a  discourse ;  that  is,  looking  back 
upon  what  hath  been  much  insisted  on  in  the  former  Part 
— That  some  being  or  other  doth  exist  necessarily  and  of 
itself,  which  is  of  absolute  or  universal  perfection — and 
taking  notice  of  the  opposite  sentiments  of  some  hereto- 
because  the  whole  design  of  evincing  an  object  of  religion 
would  manifestly  be  much  served  hereby,  we  could  not 
but  reckon  it  of  great  importance  to  consider  what  is  said 
against  it.  We  have  observed  in  the  Preface  a  two-fold 
opposite  hypothesis,  which  therefore,  before  we  go  further 
in  the  discourse  of  this  temple  of  God,  require  to  be  dis- 
cussed. 

I.  The  first  is  that  of  Spinosa,  which  he  hath  more  ex- 
pressly stated,  and  undertaken  with  great  pomp  and  boast 
to  demonstrate,  in  his  Postkummis  Ethics ;  which  "we 
shall  therefore  so  far  consider,  as  doth  concern  our  present 
design.  He  there,  as  hath  been  noted  in  the  preface,  as- 
serts all  "  substance  to  be  self-existent,  and  to  be  infinite  ; 
that  one  substance  is  improducible  by  another ;  that  there 
is  but  one,  and  this  one  he  calls  God,  &c."  Now  this  hor- 
rid scheme  of  his,  though  he  and  his  followers  woitld 
cheat  the  world  with  names,  and  with  a  specious  show  of 
piety,  is  as  directly  levelled  against  all  religion,  as  any  the 
most  avowed  atheism :  for,  as  to  religion,  it  is  all  one 
whether  we  make  nothing  to  be  God,  or  every  thing; 
whether  we  allow  of  no  God  to  be  worshipped,  or  leav^e 
none  to  worship  him.  His  portentous  attempt  to  identify 
and  deify  all  substance,  attended  with  that  strange  pair  of 
attributes,  extension  and  tkeught,  (and  an  infinite  number 
of  others  besides,)  hath  a  manifest  design  to  throw  reli- 
gion out  of  the  world  that  way. 

II.  And  it  most  directly  opposes  the  notion  of  a  self- 
existent  Being,  which  is  absolutely  perfect:  for  such  a 
being  must  be  a  substance,  if  it  be  any  thing ;  and  he 
allows  no  substance  but  one,  and  therefore  none  to  be 
perfect,  unless  all  he  so.  And  since  we  are  sure  some  is 
imperfect,  it  will  be  consequeEt  there  is  none  absolutely 
perfect ;  for  that  the  same  should  be  imperfect,  and  abso- 
lutely perfect,  is  impossible.  Beside.';,  that  he  makes  it  no 
way  possible  to  one  substance  to  produce  another,  and 


what  is  so  impotent  must  be  very  imperfect:  yea,  and 
whatsoever  is  not  omnipotent,  is  evidently  not  absolutely 
perfect.  We  are  therefore  cast  upon  reconsidering  this 
proposition — Whatsoever  being  exists  necessarily  and  of 
itself,  is  absolutely  perfect.  It  is  true  that  if  any  being 
be  evinced  to  exist  necessarily  and  of  itself,  which  is  ab- 
solutely perfect,  this  gives  us  an  object  of  religion,  and 
throws  Spinosa's  farrago,  his  confused  heap  and  jumble 
of  self-existent  being,  into  nothing.  But  if  we  carry  the 
universal  proposition  as  it  is  laid  down,  though  that  will 
oblige  us  afterwards  as  well  to  confute  his  French  eon- 
futer,  as  him ;  it  carries  the  cause  of  religion  with  much 
the  greater  clearness,  and  with  evident,  unexceptionable 
self-consistency.  For  indeed  that  being  cannot  be  under- 
stood to  be  absolutely  perfect,  which  doth  not  eminently 
comprehend  the  entire  fulness  of  all  being  in  itself;  as 
that  must  be  a  heap  of  imperfection,  an  everlasting  chaos, 
an  impossible,  self-repugnant  medley,  that  should  be  pre- 
tended to  contain  all  the  varieties,  the  diversifications, 
compositions,  and  mixtures  of  things  in  itself  formally. 
And  for  the  universal  proposition  :  the  matter  itself  re- 
quires not  an  immediate,  self-evident,  reciprocal  connex- 
ion of  the  terms — necessarily  self-existent,  and  absolutely 
perfect.  It  is  enough  that  it  however  be  brought  about 
by  gradual  steps,  in  a  way  that  at  length  cannot  fail;  and 
I  conceive  hath  been  in  the  method  that  was  followed  in 
the  former  Part. 

For,  to  bring  the  business  now  within  as  narrow  a 
compass  as  is  possible  :  nothing  is  more  evident  than  that 
some  being  exists  necessarily,  or  of  itself;  otherwise  no- 
thing at  all  could  now  exist.  Again,  for  the  same  reason, 
there  is  some  necessarj^  or  self-existent  being  that  is  the 
cause  of  whatsoever  being  exists  not  of  itself;  otherwise 
nothing  of  that  kind  could  ever  come  into  being.  Now 
that  necessary  being,  which  is  the  cause  of  all  other  being, 
will  most  manifestly  appear  to  be  absolutely  perfect.  For, 
if  it  be  universally  causative  of  all  other  being,  it  mu.st 
both  have  been  the  actual  cause  of  all  being  that  doth 
actually  exist,  and  can  only  be  the  possible  cause  of  ali 
that  is  possible  to  exist.  Now  so  universal  a  cause  cac 
be  no  other  than  an  absolutely  or  universally  perfect  being. 
For  it  could  be  the  cause  "of  nothing,  which  it  did  not 
virtually  or  formally  comprehend  in  itself  And  that  being 
which  comprehends  in  itself  all  perfection,  both  actual  and 
possible,  must  be  absolutely  or  universally  perfect.  And 
such  a  being,  as  hath  also  further  more  particularly  been 
made  apparent,  must  be  an  intelligent  and  a  designing 
agent,  or  cause ;  because,  upon  the  whole  universe  of  pro- 
duced beings,  there  are  most  manifest  characters  of  design, 
in  the  passive  sense.  They  are  designed  to  serve  ends  to 
which  they  have  so  direct  and  constant  an  aptitude,  as 
that  the  attempt  to  make  it  be  believed  they  were  forced 
or  fell  in  that  posture  of  subserviency  to  such  and  such 
ends,  by  any  pretended  necessity  upon  their  principal  cause 
or  causes,  or  bv  mere  casualty,  looks  like  the  most  ludi- 
crous triflins;  to  any  man  of  sense.  And  because  that  among 
produced  beings  there  are  found  to  be  many,  that  are  them- 


60 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  II. 


selves  actively  designing,  and  that  do  understandingly 
intend  and  pursue  ends;  and  consequently  that  they 
themselves  must  partake  of  an  intelligent,  spiritual  nature, 
since  mere  inatter  is  most  manifestly  incapable  of  thought 
or  design.  And  further,  by  the  most  evident  consequence, 
that  their  productive  cause,  {viz.  the  necessary,  self-ex- 
isting Being,  whereto  all  other  things  owe  themselves,) 
must  be  a  mind  or  spirit,  inasmuch  as  to  suppose  any 
effect  to  have  any  thing  more  of  excellency  in  it  than  the 
cause  from  whence  it  proceeded,  is  to  suppose  all  that  ex- 
cellency to  be  effected  without  a  cause,  or  to  have  arisen 
of  itself  out  of  nothing.  See  former  Part,  Chap.  III. 
Sect.  XII.  &c. 

Therefore  if  it  did  not  immediately  appear  that  neces- 
sary being,  as  such,  is  absolutely  perfect  being ;  yet,  by 
this  series  of  discourse,  it  appears  that  the  main  cause  of 
religion  is  still  safe ;  inasmuch  as  that  necessary  Being 
which  is  the  cause  of  all  things  else,  is  however  evinced 
to  be  an  absolutely  perfect  Being,  and  particularly  a  neces- 
sary self-existent  Mind  or  Spirit,  which  is  therefore  a  most 
apparently  tit  and  most  deserving  object  of  religion,  or  of 
the  lionour  of  a  temple ;  which  is  the  sum  of  what  we 
were  concerned  for.  Nor  needed  we  be  solicitous,  but 
that  the  unity  or  onliness  of  the  necessary  Being,  would 
afterwards  be  made  appear,  as  also  we  think  it  was.  For 
since  the  whole  universe  of  produced  being  must  arise  out 
of  that  which  was  necessary  self-existent  Being,  it  must 
therefore  comprehend  all  being  in  itself,  its  own  formally, 
and  eminently  all  other;  i.  e.  what  was  its  own,  being  for- 
mally its  own,  must  be  eminently  also  all  being  else,  con- 
tained in  all  possible  simplicity,  within  the  productive 
power  of  its  own.  This  Being  therefore  containing  in 
itself  all  that  exists  necessarily,  with  the  power  of  pro- 
ducing all  the  rest,  which  together  make  up  all  being,  can 
primarily  be  but  one,  inasmuch  as  there  can  be  but  one  all. 
Upon  the  whole  therefore,  our  general  proposition  is  suf- 
ficiently evident,  and  out  of  question — That  whatever  ex- 
ists necessarily,  and  of  itself,  is  absolutely  perfect.  Nor 
is  it  at  all  incongruous  that  this  matter  should  be  thus 
argued  out,  by  such  a  train  and  deduction  of  consequences, 
drawn  from  effects,  that  corne  under  our  present  notice; 
for  how  come  we  to  know  that  there  is  any  self-existing 
Being  at  all,  but  that  we  find  there  is  somewhat  in  being 
that  is  subject  to  continual  mutation,  and  which  therefore 
exists  not  necessarily,  (for  whatsoever  is  what  it  is  neces- 
sarily, can  never  change,  or  be  other  than  what  it  is,)  but 
must  be  caused  by  that  which  is  necessary  and  self-exist- 
ent. Nothing  could  be  more  reasonable  or  more  certain 
than  the  deduction  from  what  appears  of  excellency  and 
perfection  in  such  being  as  it  is  caused ;  of  the  corres- 
pondent and  far-transcendent  excellency  and  perfection 
of  its  cause.  But  yet,  after  all  this,  if  one  set  himself  at- 
tentively to  consider,  there  must  appear  so  near  a  con- 
nexion between  the  very  things  themselves,  self -existence 
and  absolute  perfection,  that  it  can  be  no  easy  matter  to 
conceive  them  separately. 

Self-existence  !  Into  how  profound  an  abyss  is  a  man 
cast  at  the  thought  of  it !  How  doth  it  overwhelm  and 
swallow  up  his  mind  and  whole  soul !  With  what  satis- 
faction and  delight  must  he  see  himself  comprehended,  of 
what  he  finds  he  can  never  comprehend!  For  contem- 
plating the  self-existent  Being,  he  finds  it  eternally,  neces- 
sarily, never  not  existing!  He  can  have  no  thought  of  the 
self-existing  Being, ^  as  such,  but  as  always  existing,  as 
having  existed  always,  as  always  certain  to  exist.  Inquir- 
ing into  the  spring  and  source  of  this  Being's  existence, 
whence  it  is  that  it  doth  exist ;  his  own  notion  of  a 
self-existing  Being,  which  is  not  arbitrarily  taken  up,  but 
which  the  reason  of  things  hath  imposed  upon  him,  gives 
him  his  answer;  and  it  can  be  no  other,  in  that  it  is  a  self- 
existing  Being,  it  hath  it  of  itself,  that  it  doth  exist.  It  is 
an  eternal,  everlasting  spring  and  fountain  of  perpetually- 
existent  being  to  itself.  What  a  glorious  excellency  of 
being  Ls  this !  What  can  this  mean,  but  the  greatest  re- 
moteness from  nothing  that  is  possible;  i.  e.  the  most 
absolute  fulness  and  plenitude  of  all  being  and  perfection! 
And  whereas  all  caused  being,  as  such,  is,  to  every  man's 
understanding,  confined  within  certain  limits ;  what  can 


a  1)es  Cartw. 


b  Dr.  More. 


the  uncaused  seif-existent  Being  be,  but  most  unlimited, 
infinite,  all-comprehending,  and  most  absolutely  perfect  1 
Nothing  therefore  can  be  more  evident,  than  that  the  self- 
existent  Being  must  be  the  absolutely  perfect  Being. 

And  again,  if  you  simply  convert  the  terms,  and  let  this 
be  the  proposition, — That  the  absolutely-perfect  Being  is 
the  self-existent  Being — it  is  most  obvious  to  every  one, 
that  the  very  notion  of  an  absolutely-perfect  Being  carries 
necessity  of  existence,  or  self-exisfence,  in  it ;  which  the 
notion  of  nothing  else  doth.  And  indeed  one  great  mas- 
terb  of  this  argument  for  the  existence  of  God,  hath  him- 
self told  me,  "  That  though  when  he  had  puzzled  divers 
atheists  with  it  they  had  been  wont  to  quarrel  at  it,  as  so- 
phistical and  fallacious,  he  could  never  meet  with  any  that 
could  detect  the  sophism,  or  tell  where  any  fallacy  in  it 
lay ;  and  that,  upon  the  whole,  he  relied  upon  it  as  most 
solid  and  firm."  And  I  doubt  not  but  it  may  be  managed 
with  that  advantage  as  to  be  very  clearly  concluding;  yet, 
because  I  reckoned  the  way  I  have  taken  more  clear,  I 
chose  it  rather.  But  finding  that  so  near  cognation  and 
reciprocal  connexion  between  the  terms  both  ways,  I  reck- 
oned this  short  representation  hereof,  annexed  to  the 
larger  course  of  evincing  the  same  thing,  might  add  no 
unuseful  strength  to  it ;  and  doubt  not  to  conclude,  upon 
the  whole,  that — whatsoever  Being  exists  necessarily,  and 
of  itself,  is  absolutely  perfect — and  can,  therefore,  be  no 
other  than  an  intelligent  Being;  i.  e.  an  infinite,  eternal 
Mind,  and  so  a  most  fit,  and  the  only  fit,  deserving  object 
of  religion,  or  of  the  honour  of  a  temple. 

III.  But  now,  be  all  this  never  so  plain,  it  will,  by 
some,  be  thought  all  false,  if  they  find  any  man  to  have 
contrivance  enough  to  devise  some  contrary  scheme  of 
things,  and  confidence  enough  to  pretend  to  prove  it ;  till 
that  proof  be  detected  of  weakness  and  vanity,  which 
must  first  be  our  further  business  with  Spinosa.  And  not 
intending  to  examine  particularly  the  several  parts  and 
junctures  of  his  model,  inasmuch  as  I  find  his  whole  de- 
sign is  lost,  if  he  fail  of  evincing  these  things, — That  it 
belongs  to  all  substance,  as  such,  to  exist  of  itself,  and  be 
infinite — And,  (which  will  be  sufficiently  consequent  here- 
upon,) That  substance  is  but  one,  and  that  it  is  impossible 
for  one  substance  to  produce  another.  I  shall  only  attend 
to  what  he  more  directly  says  to  this  effect,  and  shall  par- 
ticularly apply  myself  to  consider  such  of  his  propositions 
as  more  immediately  respect  this  his  main  design:  for 
they  will  bring  us  back  to  the  definitions  and  axioms,  or 
other  parts  of  his  discourse,  whereon  those  are  groimded, 
and  even  into  all  the  darker  and  more  pernicious  recesses 
of  his  labyrinth ;  so  as  every  thing  of  importance  to  the 
mentioned  purpose  will  be  drawn  imder  our  considera- 
tion, as  this  thread  shall  lead  us. 

His  first  proposition  we  let  pass;  "  That  a  substance  is, 
in  order  of  nature,  before  its  affections  ;"  having  nothing 
applicable  to  his  purpose  in  it,  which  we  shall  not  other- 
wise meet  with. 

His  second,  "  That  two  substances,  having  divers  attri- 
butes, have  nothing  common  between  them ;  or,  which 
must  be  all  one,  do  agree  in  nothing,  I  conceive  it  will  be 
no  great  presumption  to  deny.  And  since  he  is  pleased 
herein  to  be  divided  from  himself,  it  is  a  civility  to  hi? 
later  and  wiser  self  to  do  so,  who  will  afterwards  have 
substance,  having  a  multitude  of  distinct  attributes,  i.  e, 
essences,'^  and  which  therefore  cannot  but  be  manifold,  tc 
have  every  thing  common.  So  little  hath  he  common 
with  himself. 

And  it  will  increase  the  ooligation  upon  him,  to  deliver 
him  from  the  entanglement  of  his  demonstration,  as  he 
calls  it,  of  this  proposition ;  as  I  hope  we  shall  also  of  the 
other  too,  for  no  doubt  they  are  both  false.  Of  this  pro- 
position his  demonstration  is  fetched  from  his  third  defini- 
tion, viz.  of  a  substance,  "  That  which  is  in  itself,  and 
conceived  by  itself;  i.  e.  whose  conception  needs  the  con- 
ception of  nothing  else,  whereby  it  ought  to  be  formed;" 
so  is  his  definition  defined  over  and  over. 

We  are  here  to  inquire  : — 1.  Into  his  definition  of  a 
substance.  2.  Whether  it  sufficiently  prove  his  proposition. 

IV.  F'irst,  For  his  definition  of  a  substance.  He 
himself  tells  us,<i  "  A  definition  ought  to  express  nothing 


c  Schol.  in  Prop.  10. 


d  Schol.  in  Prop.  ^ 


Chap.  I. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


61 


but  the  simple  nature  of  the  thing  defined ;"  and  we  may 
as  well  expect  it  distinctly  to  express  that.  Doth  this 
definition  express  the  simple  nature  of  a  substance,  "  That 
which  is  in  itself,"  when  it  is  left  to  divination  what  is 
meant  by  is,  whether  essevxc,  or  existence,  or  subsisteiice  ? 
And  when  we  are  to  be  at  as  random  a  guess,  what  is  m- 
tended  by  being  in  itself?  Whether  being  only  contained, 
or  being  also  sustained  in,  and  by,  or  of  itself?  And  sup- 
posing this  latter  to  be  mejnt,  whether  that  self-subsist- 
ence exclude  dependence  only  on  another,  as  a  s^tbjecl, 
which  we  acknowledge  true  of  all  substance;  or  depend- 
ence as  on  an  efficient,  which  if  he  will  have  to  be  taken 
for  true  of  all,  he  was  in  reason  to  expect  it  should  be  so 
taken  from  his  etfectual  proof,  not  from  the  reverence  of 
his  authority  only  :  for  what  he  adds,  "And  that  is  con- 
ceived by  itself;  and  whose  conception  needs  not  the 
conception  of  any  other  thing  by  which  it  ought  to  be 
formed ;''  — would  he  have  us  believe  this  to  be  true,  when 
afterward  his  tenth  proposition  is,  "That  every  attribute 
of  substance  ought  to  be  conceived  by  itself  1"  Where- 
upon then  so  many  attributes,  so  many  substances,  it  be- 
ing the  nature  of  a  substance  to  be  conceived  by  itself. 

V.  But  passing  from  his  notion  of  a  substance,  let  us 
consider,  secondly,  How  it  proves  his  proposition,  that 
"  Two  substances,  having  different  attributes,  have  nothing 
common  between  them."  According  to  him,  every  attri- 
bute of  substance  is  to  be  conceived  by  itself;  and  yet 
have  one  and  the  same  substance  common  to  them  all : 
therefore  the  distinct  conception  of  things  is,  even  with 
him,  no  reason  why  they  should  have  nothing  common 
between  them.  But  as  to  the  thing  itself,  he  must  have 
somewhat  more  enforcing  than  his  definition  of  a  substance, 
to  prove  that  two  (or  many)  individual  substances  may 
not  have  the  same  special  nature  common  to  them,  and 
yet  be  conceived  by  themselves;  having  different  indivi- 
dual natures  or  attributes,  or  different  special  natures, 
having  the  same  general  nature.  Yea,  and  an  equal  de- 
pendence on  the  same  common  cause,  which  is  a  less 
ingredient  in  the  conception  of  a  thing,  than  the  general 
or  .special  nature  is.  And  I  doubt  not,  we  shall  find  he 
hath  not  disproved,  but  that  there  is  somewhat,  in  a  true 
sense,  common  to  them  and  their  cause,  that  is  of  a  con- 
ception much  more  vastly  different  from  them  both. 

Whereupon,  it  is  necessary  to  take  distinct  notice  of  his 
third  proposition,  "  What  things  have  nothing  common 
between  them,  of  them  the  one  cannot  be  the  cause  of  the 
other."  In  which  nothing  is  to  be  peculiarly  animadverted 
on,  besides  the  contradiction  in  the  very  terms  wherein  it 
is  proposed.  What  things  have  nothing  covimon  between 
them.  How  can  they  be  things,  and  have  nothing  com- 
mon between  themi  If  they  be  things,  they  have  sure  the 
general  notion  of  things  common  to  them;  there  can  there- 
fore be  no  such  things,  that  have  nothing  common.  And 
let  this  be  supposed  to  have  been  absurdly  set  down  on 
purpose;  yet  now,  for  his  demonstration  hereof,  it  rests 
upon  a  palpable  falsehood — that  causes  and  effects  must 
be  mutually  understood  by  one  another ;  as  we  shall  see 
more  hereafter. 

His  fourth  we  let  pass ;  what  it  hath  regardable  in  it, 
being  as  fitly  to  be  considered  under  the 

VI.  Fifth;  "  There  cannot  be  two  or  more  substances, 
in  the  whole  universe,  of  the  same  nature  or  attribute;" 
unto  which,  besides  what  hath  been  said  already,  we  need 
only  here  to  add,  that  (whereas  he  hath  told  ns,  by  the 
attribide  of  a  substance,  he  means  the  essence  of  it)  if  he 
here  speak  of  the  same  numerical  essence  or  attribute,  it  is 
ridiculously  true;  and  is  no  more  than  if  he  had  said,  One 
thing  is  but  one  thing.  If  he  speak  of  the  same  special  or 
general  attribute  or  essence,  it  is  as  absurdly  false  ;  and 
for  the  proof  of  it,  in  the  latter  sense  his  demonstration 
signifies  nothing.  There  may  be  more  than  one  (as  a  stone, 
a  tree,  an  animal)  that  agree  in  the  same  general  attribute 
of  corporeity,  and  are  diversified  by  their  special  attributes; 
and  there  may  be  many  of  the  same  special  attribute,  {viz. 
of  rationality,)  as  John,  Peter,  Thomas,  Sac.  that  are  dis- 
tinguished by  their  individual  ones.  He  might  as  well 
prove,  by  the  same  method,  the  identity  of  his  modi,  as  of 
substances;  as  that  there  can  be  but  one  individual  tri- 
angle in  all  the  world,  of  one  attribute  or  property,  as  but 
one  substance.    Let  (for  instance)  one  at  Paris,  another  at 


Vienna,  a  third  at  Rome,  a  fourth  at  London,  describe 
each  an  equilateral  triangle  of  the  same  dimensions,  or  in 
a  thousand  places  besides;  each  one  of  the.se  do  only 
make  one  and  the  same  numerical  triangle,  because  they 
have  each  the  same  attribute.  But  how  are  theauributes 
of  these  several  triangles  the  samel  What !  the  same  nu- 
merically ■?  Then  indeed  they  are  all  the  same  numerical 
triangle;  for  one  and  the  same  numerical  essence  makes 
but  one  and  the  same  numerical  thine.  But  who  that  is 
in  his  right  wits  would  say  so  7  And  if  it  be  only  said  they 
have  all  attributes  of  one  and  the  same  kind,  what  then  is 
consequent,  but  that  they  are  all  triangles  of  one  kind  1 
Which  who  in  his  right  wits  will  deny  1  And  if  the  attri- 
bute of  a  substance  be  that  whi'  h  constitutes  its  essence, 
the  attribute  of  any  thing  else  is  that  which  constitutes  its 
essence.  See  then  how  far  Spinosa  hath  advanced  with 
his  demonstration  of  the  identity  of  substance  !  If  he  prove 
not  all  substance  to  be  numerically  the  same,  he  hath  done 
nothing  to  his  purpose.  And  it  is  now  obvious  to  every 
eve  how  effectually  he  hath  done  that. 
"  Whence  also  it  is  further  equally  evident,  his  demon- 
stration dwindles  into  nothing;  and  gives  no  support  to 

VII.  His  sixth  proposition,  which  contains  the  malig- 
nity of  his  whole  design,  viz.  "  That  one  substance  cannot 
be  produced  by  another  substance,"  which  rests  (as  you 
see)  partlv  upon  the  fifth,  "  That  there  cannot  be  two  sub- 
stances of  the  same  attribute,"  which  in  his  sense  i.s,  as 
hath  been  shown,  most  absurdly  false,  and  the  attempt  of 
proving  it  as  absurd  ;  partly  upon  his  second,  "  That  two 
substances,  of  different  attributes,  have  nothing  common 
between  them,"  which  might  be  said  of  whatsoever  el'^e, 
as  truly  as  of  substances ;  but  which  is  also  most  evidently 
untrue";  and  partly,  upon  his  third,  "  That  such  things  as 
have  nothing  common  between  them,  the  one  of  them  can- 
not be  the  cause  of  the  other,"  which  depends  upon  two 
false  suppositions,— I.  "  That  there  can  be  two  things, 
which  have  nothing  common  between  them;"  which,  as 
hath  been  noted,  contradicts  itself,  and  needs  not  be  fur- 
ther stood  upon.  2.  "That  whatsoever  things  are  catiseand 
effect,  the  one  to  the  other,  must  be  mutually  understood 
by  one  another,"  which  we  shall  here  more  distinctly  con- 
sider, it  being  also  his  second  demonstration  of  the  corol- 
lary of  this  his  sixth  proposition,  (which  nothing  but  a 
disposition  to  trifle,  or  having  nothing  to  say,  could  have 
made  him  mention,  as  a  corollary  from  this  proposition,  it 
being  in  effect  but  a  repetition  of  the  same  thing,)  viz. 
"  That  if  one  substance  can  be  produced  by  another,  (agent, 
or  substance,  which  you  please,)  the  knowledge  of  it  must 
depend  upon  the  knowledge  of  its  cause,  (by  the  fourth 
axiom,)  and  thereupon  (by  definition  third)  it  should  not 
be  a  substance."     We  are  here  to  consider, 

1.  This  his  fourth  axiom,  "  That  the  knowledge  of  an 
effect  depends  upon  the  knowledge  of  its  cause,  and  doth 
involve  it."  An  effect  may  be  considered  two  ways;  abso- 
lutely, as  it  is  in  itself,  or  relatively,  as  it  is  the  effect  of 
an  efficient  cause.  It  cannot,  it  is  true,  be  understood  to 
be  the  effect  of  such  an  efficient,  but  the  knowledge  that 
this  was  its  efficient,  is  involved  therein  ;  for  it  is  the  same 
thing,  and  so  much  may  he  known,  withtmt  knowing  any 
thing  of  the  nature  of  either  the  efficient  or  effect.  But 
this  signifies  nothing  to  his  purpose.  He  must  therefore 
mean,  that  the  knowledge  of  an  effect  absolutely  considered, 
and  in  its  own  nature,  depends  upon  and  involves  the  know- 
ledge of  the  nature  of  its  efficient.  Surely,  the  nature  of  a 
thing  may  becom|  etently  known  by  its  true  definition.  But 
is  the  efficient  cause  wont  to  be  universally  put  into  defini- 
tions 7  He  tells  us  himself,  (Schol.  2.  upon  Proposition  8.) 
"A  true  definition  contains,  or  expresses,  nothing,  besides 
the  mere  nature  of  the  thing  defined."  And  let  any  man 
that  thinks  it  worth  it.  be  at  the  pains  to  examine  his  own 
definition  in  the  several  parts  of  this  ethico-geometrical 
tract,  and  see  whether  he  always  puts  the  efficient  cause 
into  every  definition.  And  (no  doubt)  he  thought  him- 
self to  define  accurately.  If  all  other  men,  who  have  so 
generally  reckoned  the  efficient  and  end.  external  causes, 
and  only  matter  and  form  internal,  and  ingredient  into 
the  nature  of  things,  and  therefore  only  fit  to  be  put  into 
definitions,  were  thought  by  him  mistaken  and  out  in 
their  reckoning,  it  was,  however,  neither  modest  nor  wise, 
to  lay  down  for   an   axiom   a  thing  so  contrary  to  the 


63 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  n. 


common  sentiments  of  mankind;  iind  witliout  the  least 
attempt  to  prove  it,  go  about  to  demonstrate  by  it,  in  so 
Dortentous  a  cause;  and  lay  the  whole  Aveiglit  of  his  hor- 
rid cause  upon  it;  expecting  all  the  world  should  be  awed 
into  an  assent,  by  the  authority  of  his  bare  word;  and  not 
Dresume  to  disbelieve  or  doubt  it,  only  because  he  is 
pleased  to  stamp  the  magisterial  name  of  an  axiom  upon 
It.  If  therefore  any  man  assume  the  boldne.ss  to  deny  his 
axiom,  what  is  become  of  his  demonstration  1  And 
whereas  it  is  commonly  apprehended,  that  definitions  are 
not  of  individual  things,  but  of  special  kinds,  and  is  ac- 
knowledged by  himself, •=  "  That  the  essence  of  things 
Droduced  by  God,  involves  not  existence,  and  the  produc- 
ion  of  a  thing  is  nothing  else  but  the  putting  it  into  actual 
existence;"  why  may  not  the  abstract  essence,  or  nature 
of  things,  be  well  enough  conceived  and  defined,  without 
involving  the  conception  of  their  productive  cause "?  And 
this  enougli  shows,  2dly,  That  his  definition  of  a  substance 
proves  not,  that  one  substance  cannot  be  produced  by  an- 
other, viz.  "  Tliat  which  can  be  conceived  by  itself,"  for 
so  it  may,  without  involving  the  conception  of  that  which 
produces  it;  and  so  be  a  substance  sufficiently  according 
to  his  definition.  Though  there  can  be  no  inconvenience 
in  admitting,  that  things  understood  apart,  by  themselves, 
may  be  afterwards  further  and  more  clearly  understood, 
by  considering  and  comparing  them  in  the  habitude  and 
references  which  they  bear  as  causes  and  effects  (or  other- 
wise) to  one  another.     And  now  is  his, 

VIII.  Seventh  proposition,  "  That  it  belongs  to  the  na- 
ture of  substance  to  exist,"  which  is  so  great  a  pillar,  left 
itself  without  support;  and  being  understood  of  substance 
as  such,  as  his  terms  and  design  require  it  to  be,  it  is 
manifestly  impious,  communicating  the  most  fundamental 
attribute  of  the  Deity  to  all  substance.  And  is  as  little 
befriended  by  reason,  as  it  befriends  religion ;  for  it  rests 
upon  nothing  but  the  foregoing  bafHed  proposition  :  and 
this  definition, f  of  that  which  is  its  own  cause;  which  is, 
"  That  whose  essence  involves  existence,  or  which  cannot 
be  conceived  otherwise  than  as  existing;"  whereas,  it  is 
sufl[iciently  plain  we  have  a  conception  clear  enough  of 
the  general  nature  of  a  substance  as  such,  abstracted  from 
existence,  or  non-existence,  conceiving  it  only  to  be  such, 
as  if  it  exist,  doth  subsist  in  and  by  itself,  i.  c.  without 
having  a  subject  to  support  it ;  though  it  may  be  such  as 
to  have  needed  a  productive,  and  continually  to  need  a 
sustaining,  efficient  cause.  Nor  is  there  less  clearness  in 
this  abstract  conception  of  a  substance,  than  there  is  in 
that  of  a  modus,  or  accident,  which  we  may  conceive  in 
an  equal  abstraction,  from  actual  existence,  or  non-exist- 
tence ;  understanding  it  to  be  such,  as  that  if  it  exist,  it 
doth  inexist,  or  exist  only  in  another.  And  now  is  our 
way  sufficiently  prepared  to  the  consideration  of  his  eighth 
proposition;  "  That  all  subslance  is  necessarily  infinite." 
And  how  is  it  demonstrated  ■?  Why,  by  his  fifth  proposi- 
tion,— "  That  there  can  be  but  one  stibstance,  of  one  and 
the  same  attribute," — which  hath  been  sufliciently  unra- 
velled and  exposed,  so  as  not  to  be  left  capable  of  signi- 
fying any  thing  here,  as  the  reader  will  see  by  looking 
back  to  what  has  been  said  upon  it.  And  now  it  must 
quite  sink;  its  next  reliance  failing  it,  viz.  the  foregoiaig 
seventh  proposition, — "  That  it  belongs  to  it,  to  exist 
necessarily."  I  grant  the  consequence  to  be  good,  and 
reckon  it  a  truth  of  great  evidence  and  concernment,  "  That 
whatsoever  exists  necessarily,  is  infinite."  I  heartily  con- 
gratulate Spinosa's  acknowledgment  of  so  very  clear  and 
important  an  assertion ;  and  do  hope,  as  in  the  foregoing 
discourse  I  have  made  some,  to  make  further,  good  use  of 
it.  But  for  what  he  assumes,  that  all  "  substance  neces- 
sarily exists  ;"  you  see  it  rests  upon  nothing,  and  so  conse- 
quently doth  what  he  would  conclude  from  it,  that  all 
substance  is  infinite.  And  his  further  proof  of  it  avails 
as  little,  ^liz.  that  it  cannot  be  finite;  because  (by  his 
second  definition)  if  it  be  so,  it  must  be  limited  by  some- 
thing of  the  same  nature,  &c.  Which  would  be  absurd 
by  proposition  fifth, — "  That  there  cannot  be  two  sub- 
stances of  the  same  attribute:"  for  that  there  be  two,  of 
the  same  individual  attribute,  to  bound  one  another  is  un- 
necessary, (as  well  as  impossible,)  and  absurdly  supposed 


0  Prop.  24. 


f  Def.  6. 


for  this  purpose.  For  if  there  were  two  of  the  same  indi- 
vidual nature  and  attribute,  they  would  not  bound  one 
another,  but  run  into  one;  inasmuch  as  having  but  one 
attribute,  they  should,  according  to  him,  have  but  one  and 
the  same  essence ;  and  so  be  most  entirely  one,  and  that 
there  cannot  be  two,  or  many  times  two,  of  the  same  spe- 
cial or  general  nature,  is  unproved ;  and  the  contrary  most 
evident,  as  may  be  seen,  in  what  hath  been  said  upon  that 
fifth  proposition. 

IX.  No  man  needs  wish  an  easier  task,  than  it  would 
be  to  show  the  falsehood  or  impertinency  of  his  Scholia 
upon  this  proposition,  and  of  his  following  discourse,  to 
the  purpose  above  mentioned.  But  I  reckon  it  unneces- 
sary, his  principal  supports  being  (I  will  not  say  over- 
thrown, but)  discovered  to  be  none  at  all.  I  shall  there- 
fore follow  his  footsteps  no  further,  only  take  notice  of 
some  few  things  that  have  a  more  direct  aspect  upon  his 
main  design,  and  make  all  the  haste  I  can  to  take  leave 
of  him,  that  I  may  be  at  liberty  to  pursue  my  own.  What 
is  in  his  first  Scholium  follows,  he  says,  only  upon  his 
seventji  proposition,  which  itself  follows  upon  nothing; 
and  trifrefore  I  further  regard  it  not.  His  second  Schol. 
would  have  his  seventh  proposition  pass  for  a  common 
notion ;  and  so  it  will,  when  he  hath  inspired  all  man- 
kind with  his  sentiments.  But  why  must  it  do  so  1  Be- 
cause substance  is  that  which  is  in  itself,  and  is  conceived 
by  itself?  Now  compare  that  with  his  tenth  proposition, 
— "  Every  attribute  of  substance  ought  to  be  conceived  by 
itself"  There  the  definition  of  substance  is  given  to 
every  attribute  of  substance;  therefore,  every  attribute  of 
substance  is  a  substance,  since  the  definition?  of  substance 
to  which  he  refers  us  in  the  demonstration  of  that  propo- 
sition, agrees  to  it;  therefore,  so  many  attributes,  so  many 
substances.  What  can  be  plainer?  We  have  then  his 
one  substance  multiplied  into  an  infinite  number  of  sub- 
stances. By  his  sixth  definition,  we  shall  see  his  own 
confession  of  this  consequence,  by  and  by. 

And  whereas  in  this  Schol.  he  would  make  us  believe, 
that  modifications  men  may  conceive  as  not  existing,  but 
substances  they  cannot.  Let  the  reason  of  this  assigned 
difference  be  considered;  "  That  by  substance  they  must 
understand  that  which  is  in  itself,  and  is  conceived  by 
itself,  its  knowledge  not  needing  the  knowledge  of  another 
thing.  But  by  modifications  they  are  to  understand  that 
which  is  in  another,  and  whose  conception  is  formed  by 
the  conception  of  that  thing  in  which  they  are :  wherefore, 
we  can  have  true  ideas  of  not-existing  modifications,  in- 
asmuch as  though  they  may  not  actually  exist,  otherwise 
than  in  the  understanding,  3'et  their  essence  is  so  compre- 
hended in  another,  that  they  may  be  conceived  by  the 
same.  But  the  truth  of  substances  is  not  otherwise  with- 
out the  understanding,  than  in  themselves,  because  they 
are  conceived  by  themselves,"  &c.  Which  reason  is  evi- 
dently no  reason.  For  with  the  same  clearness,  wherewith 
I  conceive  a  substance,  whensoever  it  exists,  as  existmg 
in  itself;  I  conceive  a  modification,  whensoever  it  exists, 
as  existing  in  another.  If  therefore  any  thing  existing  in 
another,  be  as  truly  existing,  as  existing  in  itself,  the 
existence  of  a  .substance  is  no  more  necessary  than  the 
existence  of  a  modification.  And  if  we  can  have  true  ideas 
of  not-existing  modifications,  we  may  have  as  true,  of  not- 
existing  substances;  especially  since  (according  to  him) 
we  cannot  conceive  a  substance,  without  conceiving  in  it 
some  or  other  modifications.  For  he  tells  us,  "  The 
essence  of  modifications  is  so  comprehended  in  another, 
that  they  may  be  conceived  by  the  same."  Now,  what 
means  he  by  the  essence  of  modifications  being  compre- 
hended in  another  1  By  that  other,  he  must  mean  sub- 
stance :  for  modifications  do  modify  substances,  or  nothing ; 
and  if  the  essences  of  modifications  be  contained  in  sub- 
stances, they  must  (according  to  him)  be  contained  in  the 
essence  of  substances. 

For  there  is,  saith  he,  nothing  in  nature,  besides  sub- 
stances and  their  affections  or  modifications  (demonstra- 
tion of  prop,  fourth,  and  def  fifth.)  Therefore,  since  nothing 
can  be  conceived  in  substance,  antecedent  to  these  modi- 
fications, besides  its  own  naked  essence,  they  mu.st  be 
contained  immediately  in  the  very  essence  of  substance, 

g  Def  a 


Chap.  I. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


63 


or  in  substance  itself;  wherefore  if  all  substance  be  neces- 
sarily existent,  they  must  be  necessarily  inexistent.  And 
if  the  essence  of  substance  contains  the  inexisting  viodi, 
the  essence  of  the  modi  doth  equally  contain  their  inexist- 
ence  in  substance.  Whereupon,  by  consequence  also,  the 
essence  of  these  modifications  doth  as  much  involve  ex- 
istence (since  no  one  can  athrm  inexistence  to  be  exist- 
ence) as  the  essence  of  substance  doth,  in  direct  contradic- 
tion to  prop,  twenty-fourth,  which  expressly  (and  most 
truly)  says,  "  The  essence  of  things  produced  by  God ' 
(which  he,  as  untruly,  intends  of  these  modifications  alone) 
"  do  not  involve  existence." 

And  now  for  his  notanda  in  this  Schol.  bj'  which  he 
would  conclude,  that  there  is  no  other  than  thi:>  one  infi- 
niteh  substance  in  being.  It  is  true  indeed,  that  the  defini- 
tion of  a  thing  (which  we  have  before  said  is  of  specific 
nature,  not  of  individuals)  expresses  not  any  certain  num- 
ber of  existing  individuals,  (be  it  man,  or  triangle,  or  what 
else  you  please,)  nor  any  at  all.  For  surely  the  defiiiiiion 
o^"  man,  or  triangle,  would  be  the  same,  if  every  individual 
of  each  should  be  abolished  and  cease.  But  that,  if  any 
do  exi.st,  some  cause  must  be  assignable  why  they  exist, 
and  why  so  many  only.  What  is  to  be  inferred  from  this  ? 
That  the  reason  being  the  same,  as  to  every  substance 
whose  essence  involves  not  existence  in  it,  (which  that 
the  essence  of  every  substance  doth,  or  of  substance  as 
such,  he  hath  not  proved,  nor  ever  can)  when  any  such 
substance  is  found  to  exist,  the  cause  of  its  existence,  not 
being  in  its  own  nature,  must  be  external.  And  there- 
fore, so  many  only  do  exist,  because  a  free  agent,  able  to 
produce  them,  (for  the  very  substance  of  created  beings 
itself,  owes  not  its  production  to  a  merely  natural,  unde- 
signing,  or  to  any  subordinate  agent  onlj',)  was  pleased  to 
produce  so  many,  and  no  more.  And  so  hath  this  unhap- 
py author  himself,  with  great  pains  and  sweat,  reasoned 
out  for  us  the  very  thing  we  assert. 

But  that  it  may  be  further  seen,  how  incurious  a  writer 
this  man  of  demonstration  is,  and  how  fatally,  while  he  is 
designing  the  overthrow  of  religion,  he  overthrows  his 
own  design,  I  shall  not  let  pass  what  he  says,  in  demon- 
strating Ids  twelfth  prop. — "  That  no  attribute  of  substance 
can  be  truly  conceived,  from  which  it  may  follow,  that 
substance  can  be  divided."  How  he  proves  it  by  prop, 
eighth,  and  after  by  the  sixth,  I  shall  not  regard,  till  I  see 
those  propositions  better  proved.  But  that  which  I  at  pre- 
sent remark,  is  his  argument  from  prop,  fifth, — "  That  if 
substance  could  be  divided,  each  part  must  consist  of  a 
dilTerent  attribute ;  and  so  of  one  sub.stance  many  might 
be  constituted."  A  fair  confession,  that  many  attributes 
will  constitute  many  substances.  And  himself  acknow- 
ledges many  attributes  of  substance,  (def.  sixth,  and  prop, 
eleventh.)  And  therefore,  though  he  here  call  this  an 
absurdity,  it  is  an  absurdity  which  he  hath  inevitably  now 
fastened  upon  himself,  having  here  allowed,  plainly,  the 
consequence  (as  was  above  promised  to  be  shown)  that  if 
there  be  diversity  of  attributes,  they  will  constitute  a  di- 
versity of  substances,  which  it  was  before  impossible  to 
him  to  disallow,  having  defined  an  attribute  (as  was  form- 
erly noted)  to  bei  that  which  constitutes  the  essence  of  sub- 
stance. Therefore,  his  whole  cause  is  here  fairly  given 
away  ;  for  his  one  substance  is  now  scattered  into  many, 
and  the  pretended  impossibility  of  the  creation  of  any 
substantial  being,  quite  vanished  into  thin  and  empty  air. 
The  many  inconsistencies  to  be  noted  also  in  his  annexed 
letters,  with  several  parts  of  his  discourse,  it  is  not  my 
business  particularly  to  reflect  on.  It  is  enough,  to  vuj 
purpose,  to  have  shown  he  comes  short  of  his. 

X.  Upon  the  whole,  little  more  seems  needful  for  the 
refutation  of  this  his  horrid  doctrine  of  the  unity,  .self- 
existence,  and  infinity  of  all  substance,  than  only  to  oppose 
Spinosa  to  Spinosa.  Nor  have  I  ever  met  with  a  discourse 
so  equally  inconsistent  with  all  principles  of  reason  and 
religion,  and  with  itself.  And  so  frequently  doth  he  over- 
throw his  own  ill  design,  in  this  very  discourse,  that  it  is 
altogether  unnecessary  to  insist  on  the  inconsistencies  of 
this,  with  his  demonstrations  of  Des  Cartes's  principles, 

}>  P   31.  i  net.  4. 

i  A?J"^  asserting  God  to  be  a  most  simple  t)einff,  and  tliat  his  attrihules  do 
only  difter,  ratione  Wherea.'i,  now.  lie  makes  his  attributes  as  divers,  as  exten- 
sion and  tbouelit.  and  says,  they  i.uplit  to  be  conceived  as  really  distinct.  .«!ihnl. 
ui  Prop.  10.    There  ho  asserts  all  things  to  be  created  by  God,  here,  noUilnj;. 


written  divers  years  before.  Against  which,  every  one 
that  hath  compared,  knows  these  his  later  sentiments  to 
import  so  manifest  hostility,  that  I  may  well  spare  that 
vain  and  useless  labour,  it  being  sufficient  only  to  note  the 
more  principal,  in  the  margin. k 

His  following  propositions  (and  among  them  those  most 
surprising  ones,  the  sixteenth  and  twenty-eighth)  tend  to 
evince  the  onliness  of  substance,  and  the  absolute  necessity 
of  all  actions ;  but  upon  grounds  so  plainly  already  dis- 
covered to  be  vain  and  false,  that  we  need  follow  him  nc 
further.  Nor  is  it  necessary  to  di.sprove  his  hypothesis,  or 
charge  it  with  the  many  absurdities  that  belong  to  it ;  they 
are  so  horrid  and  notorious,  that  to  any  one  who  is  not  in 
love  with  absurdity  for  itself,  it  will  abtmdantly  suffice  to 
have  .shown  he  hath  not  proved  it. 

XI.  I  cannot  but,  in  the  meantime,  take  some  notice 
of  the  genius,  which  seems  to  have  inspired  both  him  and 
his  devotees.  A  fraudulent  pretence  to  religion,  while 
they  conspire  against  it.  Whereof  many  instances  might 
be  given  ;  as  the  prefixing  that  text  of  Holy  Scriptu^re  to  so 
impure  a  volume,  on  the  title-page,  1  John  iv.  13.  "  By 
this  we  know  that  we  dwell  in  God,  and  God  dwelleth  in 
us,  because  he  hath  given  us  of  his  Spirit."  That  the  pre- 
face to  his  posthumous  works  is  filled  up  with  quotations 
out  of  the  Bible  ;  which  it  is  their  whole  design  to  make 
signify  nothing.  The  divine  authority  whereof,  an  anony 
mous  defender  of  his,  in  that  part  of  his  work  which  he 
entitles.  Specimen  artis  ratiucinandi,  no.turalis  ci  ardficialh 
ad  pantosophi<£  j^rincipia  munuiuccns,  undeitakes  to  de- 
monstrate (because,  as  he  says,  all  religion  depends  upon 
the  word  of  God)  by  an  argument,  which,  he  says,  he  can 
glory,  that  after  many  years  meditation,  the  divine  grace 
favouring  him,  he  hath  found  out,  by  which  he  tell  us,i 
he  is  able  (to  do  what,  that  he  knows,  no  man  hath  ever 
done  before  him)  to  demonstrate  naturally  the  truth  of  the 
sacred  Scripture,  that  i.s.  That  it  is  the  word  of  God.  An 
argument,  he  says,  able  to  convince  the  most  pertinacious 
pagan,  &c.  And  it  is  taken  from  the  idea  of  God,  com- 
pared with  that  divine  saying,  Exod.  iii.  14.  "  I  am  that  I 
am."  Whereupon  what  he  says  will  to  any  one  who  at- 
tentively reads  show  his  design,  viz.  at  once  to  expose 
religion,  and  hide  himself.  And  so  do;h  his  collusion 
sufficiently  appear  in  making  the  soul  philosophically 
mortal,  aiid  Christianly  immortal,  p.  70,  &c.  But  if  the 
philosopher  perish  for  ever,  what  will  become  of  the 
Christian  "? 

This  author  also  finds  great  fault  with  the  instances 
usually  given  to  exemplify  the  common  definition  of  sub- 
stance. That  is,  a  bciiig  subsisting  hj  itself,  or  in  itself,"' 
because  he  thought  them  not  agreeable  enough  to  his 
master  Spinosa's  notion  of  the  unity  and  identity  of  all 
substances,  and  consetjuently  of  the  improductibility  of 
any.  And  he  fancies  them  to  contradict  themselves,  that 
while  they  call  the  sun,  the  moon,  the  earth,  this  or  that 
tree,  or  stone,  substances,  they  yet  admit  them  to  be  pro- 
duced by  another.  For  how  "can  it  be,  saith  he,  that  they 
should  be  in  or  by  themselves,  and  yet  depend  on  another, 
as  on  a  subject,  or  as  an  efficient  cause  1  He  is  very  angry, 
and  says  they  by  it  do  but  crucify  and  mock  their  readers, 
only  because  it  crosses  and  disappoints  his  and  his  master's 
impious  purpose  of  deifying  every  substance.  And  there- 
fore, to  serve  that  purpose  as  he  fancies  the  better,  he 
would  more  aptly  model  all  things,  and  reduce  them  to  two 
distinct  kinds  only,  viz.  Of  things  that  may  be  conceived 
primarily  and  in  themselves,  without  involving  the  concep- 
tion of  a'nother  ;  and  again,  of  things  that  we  conceive  not 
primarily  and  in  themselves,  but  secondarily  and  by  ano- 
ther, whose  conception  is  involved  in  their  conception. 
But  all  the  while,  what  is  there  in  this,  more  than  what  is 
common  and  acknowledged  on  all  hands  1  as  the  sense  of 
the  trivial  distich  he  takes  the  pains  to  recite, 

Summus  Aristoteles,  &c. 

But  when  all  this  is  granted,  what  is  he  nearer  his 
mark  1  Of  that  former  sort,  still  some  are  from  another; 
and  one  other  only  of  and  from  itself.     But  then  (says  he) 

There  be  makes  corporeal  .siiKstance  divisible ;  here,  all  substance  imlivisililc, 
&c.  And  yet  in  this  work  (vide  Schol.  hi  Prop.  19  )  refsrs  us  to  the  former,  & 
if,  when  the  one  destroys  the  other,  Ixjth  were  firm. 

1  P.  241,  &-c. 

m  nioiiuduct.  p.  11,  12. 


64 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  I[. 


how  are  those  former  conceived  in  and  by  themselves  1 
Well  enoug:h,  say  I;  for  they  are  to  be  conceived,  as  they 
are  to  be  deliiied;  but  the  definition  of  a  thing  is  to  ex- 
press only  its  own  nature  and  essence  (as  Spinosa  himself 
says,  Schol.  2.  in  Prop.  8.)  considered  apart  by  itself,  into 
which  (as  hath  been  said)  the  efficient  cause,  which  is  ex- 
trinsical to  it,  enters  not;  and  without  considering  wliether 
it  exist  or  exist  not.  Because  definitions  are  of  special 
kinds,  or  common  natures,  that  exist  not  as  such ;  not  of 
existing  individual.^,  except  the  one  only  self-subsisting, 
original  Being,  of  whose  essence  existence  is;  which  Spi- 
nosa himself  acknowledges,  and  makes  his  twentieth  pro- 
position ;  as  on  the  other  hand,  that  "  The  essence  of  things 
produced  by  God  involves  not  existence,"  is  his  twenty- 
fourth. 

XII.  But  that  the  substance  of  things,  whose  essence 
involves  existence,  and  whose  essence  involves  it  not, 
should  be  one  and  the  same,  exceeds  all  wonder!  One 
would  think,  so  vastly  different  essences  of  substance 
should  at  least  make  different  substances;  and  that  when 
Spinosa  hath  told  us  so  expressly,  that  an  "  attribute  of 
substance  constitutes  the  essence  of  substance ;  and  that 
all  the  attributes  of  substance  are  distinctly  conceived ;  the 
conception  of  the  one,  not  involving  the  conception  of  ano- 
ther;" and  so  do  most  really  differ  from  each  other,  and 
make  so  many  essences  therefore,  of  substance  really  dis- 
tinct, (though  he  once  thought  otherwise  of  the  divine  at- 
tributes, that  they  did  only  differ  from  each  other  rationc, 
and  that  God  was  a  most  simple  Being,  which  he  also 
takes  pains  to  prove,  R.  D.  Cartes.  Princip.  Philos.  Ap- 
pend, part  2d.  cap.  5.  p.  117,  118,)  one  would  surely  here- 
upon think,  that  so  vastly  different  attributes,  as  necessary 
existence,  and  contingent,  should  constitute  the  most  dif- 
ferent substances  imaginable.  For  what  is  an  attribute"? 
Jd  quod  intclleclus  de  sviisiantia  pcrcipit,  tanqvnm  ejus  es- 
sejitiam  constituens.  (Def.  4.)  Now  the  essence  of  some 
substance  the  understanding  most  clearly  perceives  as  in- 
volving existence  in  it.  Existence  therelbre  constitutes 
the  essence  of  such  substance,  and  is  therefore  an  attribute 
of  it.  Some  other  essence  it  as  clearly  perceives,  that  in- 
volves not  existence.  Now  this  sort  of  essence  is  the  at- 
tribute of  somewhat.  And  of  what  is  it  the  attribute? 
Why,  he  hath  told  us,  "An  attribute  is  what  the  under- 
standing perceives  of  substance  as  constituting  its  essence ;" 
therefore,  some  substance  hath  such  an  essence  as  involves 
not  existence. 

Now  let  it  hereupon  be  considered  (albeit  that  I  affect 
not  to  give  high  tides  to  any  reasonings  of  mine)  whether 
this  amount  not  to  a  demonstration  against  the  hj'pothesis 
of  Spinosa,  and  the  rest  of  his  v.'ay,  that  all  substance  is 
self-existent ;  and  that,  even  upon  their  own  principles 
and  concessions,  so  frequently  acknowledging  the  world  to 
be  produced,  and  not  self-existent,  that  even  the  substance 
of  it  is  produced  also ;  which  they  deny,  viz."  That  whose 
essence,  this  unnamed  author  says,  includes  not  existence, 
either  hath  some  substance  belonging  to  its  essence,  or  it 
hath  not.  If  not,  it  may  exist  without  substance;  and 
then  unto  what  is  it  an  attribute,  or  what  doth  it  modify? 
If  yea,  there  is  then  some  substance,  and  particularly  that 
of  this  world,  in  whose  essence  existence  is  not  included; 
and  that  by  consequence,  the  substance  of  this  world  is 
produced.  But  if  any  make  a  difficuliy  of  it  to  under- 
stand, how  all  being  and  perfection  should  be  included 
in  the  Divine  Being,  and  not  be  very  God;  so  much  is 
already  said  to  this  in  the  former  Part  of  this  discourse, 
(viz.  Chap.  4.  Sect.  XII.  &c.)  that  as  I  shall  not  here  re- 
peat what  hath  been  said,  so  I  think  it  unnecessary  to  say 
more. 

And  it  is  what  Spinosa  hiinself  had  once  such  sobriety 
of  mind  as  to  apprehend,  when  (Princip.  R.  D.  Cart.  Phi- 
losoph.  more  Geometr.  demonsirat.  Append,  part  1.  cap. 
2.)  he  says  thus  of  God,  or  of  increate  substance,  that  God 
doth  eminently  contain  that  which  is  found  formally  in 
created  things,  i.  c.  God  hath  that  in  his  own  nature,  in 
which  all  created  things  are  contained  in  a  more  eminent 
manner;  and  that  there  is  some  attribute  in  God,  wherein 
all  the  perfections,  even  of  matter,  are  after  a  more  excel- 
lent manner  themselves  contained.    Having  before  told  us, 

n  Maniiduct.  p.  107. 


(Princip.  Ps.rt  I.  Axiom  8.)  That  by  eminently,  he  under- 
stood when  a  cause  did  contain  all  the  reality  of  its  effect 
more  perfectly  than  the  effect  itself;  by  formally,  when  it 
contained  it  in  equal  perfection.  And  so  he  might  have 
told  himself  of  somewhat  sufficiently  common  (though  not 
univocally)  to  the  substance  of  the  Divine  Nature,  and 
that  of  creatures  ;  whereon  to  found  the  causality  of  the 
former,  in  reference  to  the  latter,  as  effected  thereby.  But 
as  he  grew  older,  his  understanding  either  became  less 
clear,  or  was  more  perverted  by  ill  design. 


CHAPTER  II. 

Animadversions  from  a  French  writer,  nameless.  His  pretence  to  confufe  Spi- 
nosa. The  opinion  of  the  world's  being  made  of  independent  self-e.xisting 
matter ;  cliosen  by  liim  and  asserted  against  two  other  opinions.  Tliat  of 
matter's  being  created  out  of  nothing  rejected,  and  falsely  charged  with 
novelty.  Moses,  and  the  author  to  the  Hebrews  misalleged,  vindicated. 
Self-originate,  independent  matter  disproved :  asserted  by  tnis  author  with 
evident  self-contradiction  ;  and  without  necessity. 

I.  But  having  here  done  with  him  and  that  sort  of  men, 
I  shall  now  very  briefly  consider  the  fore-mentioned  Mon- 
sieur's way  of  confuting  him.  The  conceit,  that  there  must 
be  such  a  thing  as  necessary  self-subsisting  matter,  hath 
I  confess  seemed  to  be  favoured  by  some  or  other  name 
among  the  Ethnics  of  that  value,  as  to  have  given  some 
countenance  to  a  better  cause ;  besides  some  others,  who 
with  greater  incongruity,  and  more  injury  to  it,  have  pro- 
fessed the  Christian  name.  It  hath  been  of  late  espoused, 
and  asserted  more  expressly,  by  this  French  gentleman, 
who  hath  not  thought  fit  to  dignify  it  with  his  name, 
doubting  perhaps  whether  the  acquainting  the  world  wilh 
it,  might  not  more  discredit  his  cause,  than  his  cause  (in 
this  part  of  it)  could  better  the  reputation  of  his  name. 
However  it  be,  though  my  inquiry  and  credible  informa- 
tion hath  not  left  me  ignorant,  I  shall  not  give  him  occa- 
sion to  think  him.self  uncivilly  treated,  by  divulging  what 
he  seems  willing  should  be  a  secret.  For  though  it  was 
not  intrusted  to  me  as  such,  I  shall  be  loth  to  disoblige 
him  by  that,  whereby  that  I  know  I  can  oblige  nobody 
else.  It  is  enough  that  his  book  may  be  known  by  its 
title,  VImpie  convaincu.  It  is  professedly  written  against 
the  atheism  of  Spinosa.  And  when  I  first  looked  into  ii, 
I  could  not  refrain  thinking  of  Plato's  repartee  to  Diogenes, 
when  the  latter  undertook  to  reprehend  the  other's  pride, 
that  he  did  it  with  greater  pride.  Although  I  think  not 
the  application  is  to  be  made  in  the  strictest  terms.  For 
I  will  neither  be  so  indulgent  to  Spinosa,  as  to  reckon  that 
any  man's  atheism  can  be  greater  than  his  ;  nor  so  seveie 
to  this  his  adversary,  as  positively  to  conclude  he  designed 
the  service  of  any  atheism  at  all.  But  I  think  him  at  least, 
unwarily  and  without  any  neces.sity,  to  have  quitted  one 
of  the  principal  supports  of  the  doctrine  of  a  Deity;  and 
that  he  hath  undertaken  the  confutation  of  atheism,  upon 
a  ground  that  leads  to  atheism. 

II.  He  thinks,  it  seems,  Spinosa  not  otherwise  confuta- 
ble, than  upon  the  hypothesis  of  eternal,  independent 
matter,  which  he  thus  explains  in  his  preface,  it  being  the 
second  of  the  three  distinct  hypotheses  whereof  he  there 
gives  an  account. 

The  second,"  he  says,  is  theirs  who  assert  two  beings  or 
two  substances  increate,  eternal,  independent,  as  to  their 
simple  existence,  though  very  differently ;  the  former 
whereof  is  God,  the  infinitely  perfect  Being,  almighty, 
the  principle  of  all  perfection ;  and  the  second,  matter,  a 
being  essentially  imperfect,  without  power,  without  life, 
without  knowledge ;  but  capable  nevertheless  of  all  these 
perfections,  by  impression  from  God,  and  his  operations 
upon  it.  This  he  pretends  to  have  been  the  hypothesis  of 
the  ancient  philosophers  and  divines  (after  he  had  acknow- 
ledged the  former  hypothesis — "  That  the  world,  and  the 
matter  of  it,  v/ere  drawn  out  of  nothing  by  the  infinite 
power  of  the  first  and  supreme  Being,  which  itself  alone 
was  eternal  and  independent," — was  the  hj'pothesis  of  the 
greater  part  of  Christian  divines  and  philosophers.)  And 
this  second,  he  says,  is  the  hypothesis  which  he  shall  fol- 

a  La  leconde  eBt  celle  de  ceux  qui,  &c.    AvertiBsemont. 


Chap.  II. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


65 


low,  rejecting  the  first,  but  now  menlionecl ;  and  in  oppo- 
sition to  the  third,  which  makes  the  world  and  its  produc- 
tion to  be  nothing  else  than  an  emanation  of  the  Divine 
Substeince,  whereby  a  part  of  itself  is  formed  into  a  world. 
And  this,  he  says,  was  the  opinion  of  the  ancient  Gnostics 
and  Priscillianists,  and  is  for  the  most  part  of  the  Cabba- 
lists,  of  the  new  Adamites  or  the  illuminated,  and  of  an 
infinite  number  of  Asiatic  and  Indian  philosophers. 

III.  To  qualify  the  ill  .savour  of  that  second  opinion 
which  he  follows,  he  would  have  us  believe  it  to  be  the 
more  creditable,  than  the  (rejected)  first,  which  he  says  is 
a  new  thing  in  the  world,  and  that  it  was  not  born  till 
some  ages  after  Christ;  which  is  gratis  dictum.  And 
whereas  he  tells  us,  he  takes  notice,  that  Tertullian  was 
the  first  that  maintained  it  against  a  Christian  philosopher, 
who  defended  the  eternal  existence  of  matter;  he  had  only 
reason  to  take  notice,  That  the  philosopher  he  mentions, 
was  the  first,  that  calling  himself  a  Christian,  had  the  con- 
fidence to  assert  an  opinion  so  repugnant  to  Christianity 
and  to  all  religion,  and  who  therefore  first  gave  so  con- 
siderable an  occasion  to  one  who  was  a  Christian  indeed, 
to  confute  it.  Nor  was  Hermogenes  a  much  more  credit- 
able name  with  the  orthodox,  ancient  Christians,  than  those 
wherewith  he  graces  the  third  opinion,  besides  the  other 
ill  company  which  might  be  assigned  it,  if  that  were  a 
convictive  way  of  fighting,  by  names. 

IV.  And  for  what  he  adds.  That  Moses  was,  he  dares 
say,  of  his  opinion ;  because  he  only  gives  such  an  account 
of  the  creation,  as  that  it  was  made  of  an  unformed  pre- 
existent  matter;  and  the  Apostle  Paul  to  the  Hebrews, 
saying,  God  drew  these  visible  things  out  of  those  that 
were  not  visible.  He  shows,  indeed, more  daringness  than 
solid  judgment,  in  venturing  to  say  the  one  or  the  other 
upon  so  slender  a  ground.  As  if  every  thing  were  false, 
which  Moses  and  Paul  did  not  say.  But  it  appears  rather 
from  his  way  of  quoting,  (who,  it  is  like,  did  not  much 
concern  himself  to  turn  over  the  leaves  of  the  Bible,  that 
he  might  be  sure  to  quote  right,)  that  God  did  create  that 
unformed  matter,  as  he  calls  it.  For  it  is  expressly  said, 
God  created  heaven,  and  earth,  and  that  this  earth  (not 
matter)  was  without  form,  and  void.  Gen.  i.  1,2.  And  if 
this  unformed  earth  and  matter  be,  as  with  him  it  seems, 
all  one,  then  the  unformed  matter  is  said  to  have  been 
created.  For  God  is  said  to  have  created  that  unformed 
earth;  which  must  indeed  pre-exist,  unformed,  to  its  be- 
ing brought  into  form,  not  imto  all  creation.  And  the 
same  thing  must  be  understood  of  the  unformed  heaven 
too,  though  Moses's  design  was  to  give  us  a  more  distinct 
account  of  what  was  nearer  us,  and  wherein  we  were  more 
concerned.  And  indeed,  is  seems  most  agreeable  to  the 
letter  of  the  text,  and  to  the  following  history,  so  to  under- 
stand those  words,  "  In  the  beginning  God  created  heaven 
and  earth,"  viz.  That  in  the  beginning  he  created  that 
which  afterwards  became  heaven  and  earth,  i.  e.  unformed 
matter.  For  heaven  and  earth  as  now  they  are,  or  as  they 
were  in  their  formed  state,  were  not  created  in  a  moment, 
in  the  very  beginning ;  but  in  several  successive  days,  as 
the  following  history  shows.  And  so  much  Tertullian 
aptly  enough  intimates  to  that  Pseudo-Christian  Her- 
mogenes, Terra;  nomen  redigit  in  maferiam,  d^'C.  Nor  is 
Heb.  xi.  3.  capable  of  being  tortured  into  any  sense  more 
favourable  to  his  gross  fancy,  which  (as  the  Greek  text,  if 
any  will  con.sult  it,  shows)  "says  not.  The  things  that  are 
seen  were  made  of  things  not  appearing,  but  were  not 
made  of  things  appearing.  As  to  what  he  adds  touching 
the  word  crcer.  &c.  I  let  it  pass,  not  liking  to  contend 
about  words  often  promiscuously  used,  but  shall  apply 
myself  to  the  consideration  of  the  thing  in  question,  and 
show — 1.  How  inconsistently  this  author  asserts  inde- 
pendent matter,  both  with  the  truth  and  with  himself— 2. 
How  unnecessarily  he  doth  it,  and  that  the  defence  of  the 
common  cause  against  Spinosa  did  no  way  oblige  him 
to  it. 

V.  FHrst,  How  inconsistently  he  asserts  it,  1.  With  the 
truth  of  the  thing;  for, 

(1.)  Whatsoever  exists  independently  and  necessarily, 
is  infinite.  And  herein  I  must  do  Spinosa  that  right,  as 
to  acknowledge  he  hath,  in  asserting  it,  done  right  to  truth; 
though  the  grounds  upon  which  he  asserts  it,  are  most 
perniciously  false.     But  I  conceive  it  is  capable  of  being 


clearly  proved  (and  hath  been  proved.  Part  1st)  otherwise, 
i-iz.  that  necessary,  self-originate  being,  is  the  root  and 
fountain  of  all  being,  whetlier  actual  or  possible ;  since 
there  is  nothing  actual  brought  into  being,  which  is  not 
actually  from  it,  and  nothing  possible,  but  whose  possi- 
bility depends  upon  it.  And  what  virtually  comprehends 
all  being,  actual  and  po.ssible,  cannot  but  be  infinite.  For 
without  the  compass  of  such  all-comprehending  being, 
there  is  nothing  to  bound  it.  And  what  is  bounded  by 
nothing,  is  unboimded  or  infinite.  Whereupon  also,  matter 
plainly  appears  not  to  be  of  itself.  For  if  it  were,  for  the 
same  reason  it  must  be  infinite  and  all  comprehending. 
But  nothing  were  more  apparently  contradictious  and  self- 
repugnant,  than  the  assertion  of  nvo  all-comprehending 
beings ;  and  if  there  be  but  one,  that  matter  is  not  that 
one.  But  that  it  must  be  a  necessary,  self-originate,  intel- 
ligent Being,  which  is  the  root  of  all  being,  I  conceive 
already  suihciently  proved  in  the  former  part  of  this  dis- 
course. Wherein  it  is  also  shown,  that  finite  created  be- 
ings, arising  from  that  infinite  self-originate  one,  limit  it 
not,  nor  do  detract  any  thing  from  its  infinity,  but  concur 
to  evidence  its  infinity  rather;  inasmuch  as  they  could 
never  have  been,  had  they  not  been  before  contained  within 
the  productive  power  of  that  increate  self-originate  Being. 
It  is,  by  the  way,  to  be  noted  that  the  notion  of  infinity  we 
now  intend,  doth  not  merely  import  unconfinedness  to  this 
or  that  certain  space,  (though  it  include  that  too,)  for  that, 
alone,  were  a  very  maimed,  defective  notion  of  inhnitencss. 
But  we  understand  by  it  the  absolute  all-comprehending 
profundity  and  plenitude  of  essence  and  perfection.  Where- 
upon, it  signifies  nothing  to  the  preserving  entire  the  infi- 
nity of  the  self-originate,  intelligent  Being,  only  to  suppose 
it  such,  as  that  it  can  permeate  all  the  space  that  can  be 
taken  up  by  another  (.supposed)  self-originate  being.  For 
still,  since  its  essence  were  of  itself,  it  were  not  virtually 
contained  in  the  other.  Which  therefore  would  evince 
that  other  not  to  be  in  the  true  sense  infinite.  Where- 
upon we, 

(2.)  Proi^e  the  impossibility  of  independent,  self-origi- 
nate matter,  from  the  known,  agreed  notion  of  God,  viz. 
That  he  is  a  Bei7ig  absolutely  perfect,  or  comprehensive  of 
all  perfection.  Even  they  that  deny  his  existence,  confess 
(though  to  the  contradiction  of  themselves)  this  to  be  the 
notion  of  the  thing  they  deny.  Now,  though  this  Eissertor 
of  independent  matter  acknowledges  it  a  being  essentially 
imperfect,  he  can  only  mean  by  that,  less  perfect ;  not 
that  it  hath,  simply,  no  perfection  at  all.  'Tis  idle  trifling 
to  brangle  about  words.  Perfection  hath  been  wont  to  go 
for  an  attribute  of  being.  He  calls  it  a  being;  it  must 
therefore  have  some  perfection,  some  goodness,  be  of  some 
value.  Is  it  not  better  than  nothing  1  Then,  that  perfec- 
tion must  be  eminently  contained  in  God  ;  otherwise,  how 
is  he  a  Being  comprehensive  of  all  perfection  1  The  imper- 
fections of  matter  belong  not  to  him;  nor  of  any  thing 
else.  For  imperfection  is  nothing;  nor  do  the  perfections 
of  any  creature  belong  to  him  formally,  or  in  the  same 
special  kind,  hut  eminently,  and  in  a  higher  and  more 
noble  kind.  And  so,  to  have  all  being  and  perfection, 
either  for  his  own,  or  within  his  productive  power,  cannot, 
without  contradiction,  be  denied  of  him,  who  is  confessed 
to  be  God.  And  again,  to  be  able  to  create,  is  surelv  a 
perfection.  Omnipotency,  more  a  perfection  than  partial 
impotenc}'.  Wherefore  to  assert  matter  could  not  be  cre- 
ated by  God,  is  to  assert  an  impotent,  imperfect  God.  Or 
since  God  can  be  conceived  under  no  other  notion  than 
of  a  Being  absolutely  perfect)  to  assert  none  at  all. 

(3.)  This  supposition  not  only  denies  to  God  all  perfec- 
tion, but  it  ascribes  to  matter,  which  he  himself  confesses 
the  meanest  sort  of  being,  (as  shortly  it  will  be  fitter  to 
take  further  notice,)  the  high  excellency  of  self-subsist- 
ence, the  first  and  most  fundamental  of  all  divine  per- 
fections. 

(4.)  If  matter  be,  as  such,  an  independent,  self-originate 
thing,  then  every  part  or  particle  of  matter  must  be  so. 
And  then,  let  such  matter  be  supposed  to  fill  up  infinite 
space,  we  shall  have  an  infinite  number  of  independent 
entities,  co-existing  for  ever ;  for  a  finite  number  cannot 
replenish  infinite  space :  or  let  it  be  supposed  (more  agree- 
ably to  the  pretended  sentiments  of  this  author")  confined 
within  the  limits  of  the  formed  universe:  ana  how  un- 


66 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  IL 


reasonably  is  such  a  thing  as  independent  matter,  sup- 
posed to  be  of  itself,  limited  to  one  spot  of  immense  space ! 
For  let  the  universe  be  supposed  finite,  though  ever  so 
vast,  it  must  yet  be  conceived  but  as  a  minute  spot,  to  the 
infinite  unbounded  vacuity  that  lies  without  it ;  and  which 
yet  he  seems  to  acknowledge  replenished  with  the  Divine 
Being.  Now  let  a  man  set  himself  to  consider,  and  try 
how  easy  it  will  be  to  his  thoughts  to  conceive  one  little 
portion  of  boundless  space,  taken  up  with  a  mean  being, 
next  to  nothing,  that  is  of  itself  there,  and  cannot  but  be 
there,  and  no  where  else,  imposed  upon  the  infinitely  per- 
fect Being  ;  the  all-wise  and  almighty  God,  who  fills  up 
all  space  unavoidably  and  from  all  eternity,  so  that  he 
could  not,  if  he  thought  it  a  cumber,  disencumber  or  rid 
himself  of  it ;  and  rather  seemed  of  necessity,  than  of 
choice,  to  have  made  a  world  of  it,  as  not  knowing  else 
what  to  do  with  it ;  with  which  imagination  also  the  youth 
of  the  world  so  ill  agrees,  for  why  then  was  it  so  lately 
made? 

(5.)  But  it  further  seems  very  evident,  and  more  fully 
evidential  of  the  absurdity  of  this  conceit,  that  if  there 
were  such  matter,  the  world  could  never  have  been  made 
of  it.  For  how  great  alterations  must  such  rude,  undi- 
gested, unformed  matter  have  undergone,  in  forming  of 
such  a  world  as  this?  But  what  greater  inconsistency  can 
we  imagine,  than  that  what  exists  necessarily,  or  of  itself, 
should  be  alterable  1  What  is  of  itself  what  it  is,  must  be 
eternally  and  without  change  what  it  is.  So  absurd,  as 
well  as  profane,  it  will  be  to  ascribe  to  dull  and  senseless 
matter,  or  to  any  thing  else,  so  peculiar  and  appropriate  an 
attribute  and  name  as  that  of  the  Deity,  /«?«  that  lam. 
For,  hereupon,  such  matter  were  not  only  supposed  vainly 
and  to  no  purpose,  being  never  possible  to  be  the  matter 
of  the  world,  but  destructively,  and  against  the  very  pur- 
pose that  should  be  served  by  it.  For  such  matter  being 
supposed  to  occupy  the  space  of  the  formed  world,  must 
exclude  thence  any  other  matter  of  which  it  could  be 
formed ;  and  make  it,  consequently,  impossible  there 
should  ever  have  been  any  such  world  as  this,  where  the 
supposition  itself  makes  it  be.  This  see  discoursed  more 
at  large,  Part  I.  Chap.  2. 

(6.)  And  whereas  his  great  reason  for  such  self-originate, 
independent  matter,  viz.  the  imagined  impossibility  of 
creation,  or  that  any  thing  can  be  produced  out  of  nothing, 
(which  so  far  as  is  needful,  we  partly  have  and  further 
shall  consider,  in  its  proper  place,)  doth  as  much  oppose 
the  creation  of^any  spiritual  being,  as  material.  If  all  that 
hath  been  said  in  the  former  part  of  this  discourse,  and  by 
many  authors  besides,  do  suificiently  prove  there  are  such 
spiritual  or  immaterial  beings  that  are  created,  or  are  not 
of  themselves ;  and  that,  of  the  property  of  thought,  which 
is  found  belonging  to  them,  matter  is  not  capable,  (which 
I  shall  think  to  have  been  done  till  I  see  the  contrary 
evinced,)  we  must  judge  him  very  absurdly  to  have  as- 
serted such  self-originate,  independent  matter.  And  as  he 
hath  asserted  it  very  inconsistently  with  the  truth  of  the 
thing ;  so, 

VI.  2.  It  will  appear  he  hath  done  it  as  little  consist- 
ently with  himself.     For, 

(i.)  He  acknowledges  God  to  be  Vetre  infiniment  par- 
fait,  tout  jmissant,  el  le  principe  de  toute  perfection — a 
Being  infinitely  perfect,  almighty,  and  the  principle  of  all 
perfection.  Now  how  is  he  infinitely  perfect,  if  his  being 
include  not  all  perfection  1  How  is  he  almighty,  if  he 
cannot  create  1  How  is  he  the  fountain  or  principle  of  all 
perfection,  if  the  perfection  of  matter  (which,  as  hath  been 
said,  though  he  make  it  essentially  imperfect,  must  have 
some  perfection  belonging  to  it,  since  it  is  not  mere  no- 
thing) be  not  eminently  comprehended  in  his  being? 

Besides  that  here  acknowledging  God  to  be  omnipoten-t, 
and  having  denied  the  necessary,  eternal,  independent 
matter,  which  he  imagines  to  be  infinite,  but  limited  and 
confined  to  the  created  universe  only;  I  would  hereupon 
demand  of  him,  Cannot  the  blessed  God,  if  he  please,  cre- 
ate many  worlds  1  If  he  say,  No,  then  how  is  he  omni- 
potent ? — If  Yea,  of  what  matter  must  they  be  made  ?  Not 
of  his  (imagined)  necessary,  independent  matter,  for  of  that 
really  none  could :  but  according  to  him  the  present  uni- 


b  P.  47,  48. 


c  P.  110. 


verse  is  made :  it  is  already  taken  up,  and  pre-engaged 
therein,  and  it  is  limited  thereto.  Therefore  the  matter  ii 
yet  to  be  created,  of  which  the  other  worlds  are  to  be  made . 
and  it  can  be  so,  otherwise  no  more  worlds  can  be  made; 
and  thereupon  the  great  God  is,  not  without  blasphemy, 
said  to  have  gone  to  the  utmost  of  his  power,  to  have  done 
in  this  kind  all  that  he  can.  And  this  must  be  said,  by 
this  author,  in  express  contradiction  to  the  truth  of  the 
thing,  to  the  most  common  and  agreed  idea  or  notion  of 
the  Divine  Being ;  and  now,  most  apparently,  to  himself. 
And  therefore  his  high  rant  against  Spinosa,b  (in  this  point 
more  orthodox  than  himself,)  That  he  confounds  in  his 
philosophy  being  and  perfection,  Prctcndant  que,  ce  qui 
est,  et  ne  rcnferme  aucune  negation  d'etre,  est  une perfec- 
tion, (^c. — Pretending  that  whatsoever  is,  and  includes  not 
in  lis  notion  any  negation  of  being,  is  a  perfection,  <^c.  i" 
vain,  and  as  much  without  cause,  as  what  he  afterwardf, 
says  about  it  is  without  sense.  For  he  adds,  That  for  hii, 
part  he  finds  nothing  more  false  or  extravagant;  and  why 
so  ?  Because  then  pain  and  sorrow  must  be  reckoned 
among  perfections,  and  such  real  perfections  as  are  worthy 
of  God,  or  a  Being  infinitely  perfect.  And  upon  this,  he 
triumphs  over  such  men,  as  supplanters  of  the  Deity,  in- 
stead of  defenders  of  so  great  a  Being,  and  as  having  lost 
their  senses  and  their  reason,  &c.  But  if  he  had  not  lost 
his  own,  and  abandoned  himself  to  that  fury  and  rage  ol 
insolence  which  he  there  inaputes  to  his  opposers,  he  might 
have  been  capable  of  so  much  calm  and  sober  considera- 
tion, as  to  have  bethought  himself,  that  among  creatures, 
a  sense  of  pain,  real  grief  and  sorrow,  correspondent  to 
their  present,  true  causes,  import  more  perfection,  than 
stupidity,  insensibleness,  and  apathy;  and  if  so,  though 
pain  and  grief  cannot  formally  agree  to  the  most  perfect 
being  of  God,  to  whom  their  causes  cannot  agree,  that  the 
life  and  percipiency  do  eminently  agree  to  him,  by  which 
he  can  apprehend  an  injury,  though  not  a  real  hurt,  (which 
he  can  therefore  only  not  apprehend,  not  because  the  per- 
ceptive principle  is  wanting,  but  the  object, ")  and  by  the 
power  of  imparting  whereof,  he  is  able  to  maKe  a  creature 
capable  of  pain  and  grief,  where  the  objects  shall  (as  they 
may  deservedly)  occur,  and  meet  the  perceptive  principle; 
and  that  the  power  of  making  such  a  creature,  is  a  greater 
perfection  than  an  impotency  of  doing  it.  Which  perfec- 
tion therefore,  he  could  not,  consistently  with  himself, 
deny  to  God,  having  acknowledged  him  a  Being  infinitely 
perfect,  or  comprehensive  of  all  perfection.     Nor, 

(2.)  Doth  he  assert  necessary  increate  matter,  consist- 
ently with  his  own  reasonings  for  the  possibility  of  a  vacu- 
um,c  where  he  takes  it  for  granted,  that  God  can  aneantir 
une  petite  partie  de  la  matiere,  d^c. — annihilate  some  s'tnall 
particle  of  matter,  one  stone,  for  example,  or  one  grain  of 
sand.  Which  how  ridiculously  is  it  supposed,  by  one  who 
supposes  such  matter  necessarily  self-existent !  For  who 
sees  not  that  necessity  of  existence,  and  impossibility  of 
non-existence,  do  infer  one  another,  or  signify  rather  the 
same  thing.  Therefore,  no  man,  except  Spinosa,  could 
be  at  once  more  daring  and  more  unhappy  than  this  author. 
And  as  it  hath  thus  appeared,  that  he  hath  asserted  such 
self-originate,  independent  matter,  very  inconsistently  both 
with  the  truth  of  the  thing  and  himself;  so, 

VII.  Secondly,  It  will  also  appear  he  hath  done  it  very 
unnecessarily ; "  and  particularly,  without  that  necessity 
which  he  pretends  of  answering  Spinosa.  For  there  is  no 
necessity  of  it  so  much  as  pretended,  upon  any  account 
besides  that  of  the  common  maxim,  that  nothing  can  come 
out  of  nothing ;  the  sense  whereof  must  first  be  inquired 
before  it  can  be  understood,  how  far  it  will  serve  his  pur- 
pose, or  infer  the  necessity  of  independent  matter.  The 
sense  of  it  must  either  be  this — That  a  being  could  never 
arise  out  of  no-being,  of  itself,  without  a  pre-existent,  cre- 
ative cause  ;  whichis  most  evidently  true,  but  as  evidently 
not  to  his  purpose :  or  this — That  what  once  "was  not, 
could  never  be  produced  into  being  by  a  pre-existent, 
omnipotent  Cause  :  which  were  to  his  purpose,  but  is 
evidently,  and  by  apparent  self-contradiction,  untrue.^ 
And  what  can  make  it  have  so  much  as  the  least  sem- 
blance of  truth  1  Either  the  authority  of  the  maxim,  or 
some    plausible    reason.     For  its  authority;  though  that 

d  of  thia  fee  at  \ajffi  Dr.  Cudwoitli's  Intellectual  System. 


Chap.  III. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


67 


which  he  claims  lo  it  of  the  ancient  philosophers  were 
little  considerable,  if  ever  so  truly  claimed,  we  have  no 
ground  to  think  it  otherwise  claimed  than  most  untruly. 
Its  authority,  as  he  represents  it,  depends  upon  a  worse 
authority.  He  is  so  modest  as  to  expect  it  to  be  believed, 
upon  his  bare  word,  that  this  was  the  opinion  of  all  the 
ancient  philosophers  before  Christ's  time;  while  yet  he 
thinks  not  fit  to  tell  us  his  name.  But  if  their  reasonings 
from  it  be  considered,  that  generations  are  out  of  matter, 
and  corruptions  are  into  matter,  we  have  no  cause  to  ap- 
prehend they  understood  it  otherwise  than  that  natural 
agents  did  neither  create  nor  annihilate  any  thing.  Besides 
that,  there  is  positive  ground  enough  to  ^conclude,  that  the 
more  instructed  and  wiser  pagans,  long  before  Christ's 
time,  did  believe  all  things  to  have  sprang  from  one  intel- 
ligent, self-subsisting  original,  matter  itself  not  being  ex- 
cepted. As,  with  the  Egj-ptians,  the  inscription  of  the 
temple  at  Sais  shows,  "  I  am  all  that  is,  or  was,  or  shall 
be,"  &c.  and  with  the  Grecians,  their  worshipping  God, 
under  the  name  of  Pan ;  which  could  mean  no  other 
thing,  than  that  they  thought  the  Deity  to  comprehend 
eminently  or  virtually  all  beings  besides,  in  its  creatire  or 
productive  poM^er.  And  we  have  reason  to  think  that 
pagan  philosophers  since  Christ,  such  as  Hierocles,  Jam- 
blichus,  Porphyry,  Plotinus,  &c.  who  (as  others  have 
observed)  were  manifestly  of  this  .sentiment,  understood 
the  minds  of  the  more  ancient  philosophers  as  well  as 
this  Monsieur ;  nor  do  they  pretend  to  contradict  them 
herein. 

And  for  the  reason  of  the  thing  itself,  he  hath  not  the 
least  appearance  of  any  on  his  part,  but  that,  because  the 
finite  power  of  a  creature  cannot  bring  a  thing  out  of  no- 
thing, therefore  omnipotency  cannot ;  which  is  so  far  from 
concluding  for  him,  that  (as  hath  been  intimated)  it  mani- 
festly contradicts  itself,  and  concludes  the  contrary.  For 
how" is  that  omnipotency,  which  cannot  do  everything 
that  implies  not  a  contradiction  1  And  how  is  that  a  con- 
tradiction, that  what  once  was  not,  should  afterwards  come 
to  be  1  there  being  no  objective  impossibility  or  intrinsic 
repugnancy  in  the  thing  itself  to  exist,  but  that  it  were  truly 
ens  possib)le  ;  (and  we  are  out  of  doubt  concerning  matter 
for  instance,  or  whatsoever  else  we  are  sure  doth  exist, 
;hat  it  could  exist;)  and  supposing  also  that  there  be  a  suf- 
ficient, causative  power,  to  make  it  exist,  or  produce  it  into 
being :  and  what  cause  can  be  more  sufficient  than  an  om- 
nipotent one,  such  as  our  author  confesses  God  to  bel 
Nor  doth  he  deny  that  there  are  intelligent  spirits,  that 
were  not  of  themselves;  only  he  would  have  us  think 
them  but  finer  matter,  impres.sed  with  intellectual  power. 
But  what  akin  is  a  mind  to  matter,  except  his  own  1  And 
supposing  a  mind  or  intellect  be  stamped  upon  matter,  it 
is  then  but  added  to  it,  not  drawn  out  of  it,  as  if  matter 
had  before  contained  it.  And  even  thus,  since  mind  or 
intellect  is  not  nothing,  (unless  he  will  say,  himself  diflfers 
by  nothing  from  unthinking  clay,)  we  have  something  out 
of  nothing.  And  who  can  think  it  more  impossible  to 
Omnipotency,  to  create  matter,  than  a  mind  1 

But  if  he  reckon  thought,  or  intellect,  is  contained  in 
matter,  or  included  in  the  notion  of  it,  then  matter,  as 
such,  must  be  intelligent,  and  consequently  all  matter ; 
and  this  will  be  absurdity  enough,  to  give  him  as  good  a 
title  to  the  privilege  of  not  being  reasoned  against,  as, 
from  his  magisterial  way  of  writing,  we  may  count  Spinosa 
thought  himself  to  have.  Nor  indeed  will  it  leave  any 
man  so  much  as  a  conjecture  at  the  reason  why  he  should 
pretend  to  differ  from  him.  For  who  can  imagine,  why 
his  matter,  endued  with  the  attributes  of  extension  and 
thought,  might  not  do  as  well  as  Spinosa's  substance  1 

Or  if  he  think  matter,  as  such,  to  have  only  seminal 
reason  or  intellect  in  it,  antecedently  to  his  supposed  di- 
vine impress  upon  it,  how  will  that  agree  with  his  making 
it  essentiellevient  imparfatt ,'' — essenlial/y  impcrf(>ct  ?  Or 
what  means  his  added  capable  neunmnins,  its  he'mg  never- 
theless capable  of  all  such  perfections  by  the  impression  of 
God  upon  it  1  Is  that  capacity  something,  or  nothing  1 
Or  what  sense  is  it  to  make  it  capable  of  having  those  per- 
fections, which  it  is  essential  to  it  not  to  have  1 

And  surely,  as  he  will  attribute  to  matter  more  perfec- 


tion than  he  intended,  so  he  will  attribute  less  to  God. 
For  he  will,  at  this  rate,  attribute  no  more  to  him.  than 
hath  been  generally  ascribed  to  ordinary  natural  agents ; 
i.e.  to  produce  into  actual  being,  out  of  matter,  that  whereto 
there  was  in  it  some  seminal  disposition  before. 

And  here,  indeed,  is  the  S(jurce  of  his  error,  his  reducing 
infinite  power  to  the  measures  of  finite  ;  an  insolent  pre- 
suming to  circumsciibe  Omnipotenc}',  and  making  that 
simply  impossible  even  lo  Almightir^ess  itself,  which  is 
only  so  to  created  agents.  And  to  this  purpose,  I  find 
some  reasonings  in  Sextus  Empiricus,  who  tells  us  how 
the  sceptics  attempted  to  prove  (besides  their  disputing 
against  the  other  three  sorts  of  causation)  that  dawfiaToi — 
an  incorporeal  thing,  cannot  be  uitiov  otj'tjiaToi — the  cause  of 
any  thing  corporeal ;  arguing  (and  slightly  enough)  from 
the  common  methods  of  subordinate  agents,  to  the  opera- 
tions of  the  Supreme  Cause.  Nor  is  it  apprehensible,  how 
one  can  find  a  medium ;  or  while  they  make  matter  in- 
dependent, how  not  to  make  God  dependent. 

And  when  the  Monsieur  we  are  concerned  with  took  a 
friendly  notice  of  Hermogenes's  consent  with  him  upon 
this  subject,  he  might  as  well  have  been  at  the  pains  to 
consider  somewhat  of  what  Tertullian  wrote  anainst  him, 
that  hereby,  in  some  respect,  God  is  made  inferior  and 
svbject  to  matter,  when  without  it  he  coaild  not  hare  made  a 
world.  Materia  superior  invenilur,  qua  illi  capiam  ope- 
randi subministravit,  et  Deus  subjectus  materia  yidetur, 
cujus  substantia  eguit ;  nemo  non  subjicitur  ei  cujus  eget, 
(f-c.f — Every  one  is  subject  to  what  he  stands  in  need  of. 


CHAPTER  III. 

The  reason  of  what  next  follows.  Directions  to  readers  not  wont  to  inquire 
into  the  grounds  of  their  reli^on.  A  summary  and  plainer  proposal  unto  such, 
of  what  hath  been  said  in  the  former  Part,  concerning  God's  existence  and 
conversableness  with  men.  The  reasonableness  (so  much  beine  already 
evinced)  of  alleging,  and  rebing  upon  the  te.stimony  of  the  Holy  Scnptures. 
The  expressness  of  that  testimony  concerning  the  unity  ot  the  Godhead,  the 
trinity  therein  The  absolute  perfection  of  the  Divine  Nature.  The  infimle- 
iiess  of  God's  knowledge,  power,  goodness,  and  presence.  His  propensions 
towards  men.  and  aptness  (supposing  there  were  no  obstruction)  to  human 
converse.    Matters  of  doubt  herein  resoh-ed. 

I.  And  having  thus  far  established  and  vindicated  so 
principal  a  ground-work  in  this  important  cause, — That 
what  is  necessarily,  or  of  itself,  is  an  absolutely  perfect 
Being,  di.stinct  from  all  things  else  ;  and  a  proper  Object 
of  religion,  or  whereto  a  temple,  and  all  the  worship  there- 
of, duly  belong,  I  shall  now  only  suffer  myself  to  be  a 
little  further  diverted  from  my  intended  course,  apprehend- 
ing that  their  case  is  also  to  be  considered,  who  have  been 
less  accustomed  to  this  course,  of  reasoning  out  to  them- 
selves the  principles  of  their  religion:  unto  whom  there- 
fore what  hath  been  hitherto  attempted  may  seem,  if  not 
obscure  in  its  parts,  yet  so  tiresome  in  the  whole,  as  not 
to  meet  with  patience  enough  to  trace  ihe  design  that  hath 
been  driven  on,  to  its  issue  and  period;  it  being  very  in- 
cident to  unexercised  and  less  attentive  readers,  to  lose 
their  thread,  and  forget  the  scope  of  a  discourse,  and  so 
still  have  the  truth  to  seek  even  in  the  midst  of  it.  And 
if  what  hath  been  hitherto  said,  prove  unsatisfying  to  any, 
that  justice  must  be  done  to  the  cause  itself  and  to  them, 
as  to  avow  it  must  rather  proceed  either  from  this  infirmity 
in  the  reader,  or  from  the  unskilfulness  of  the  writer  to 
propound  things  happily  and  to  advantage  ;  than  either 
from  the  inevidence  of  the  things  themselves,  or  frrm 
want  of  capacity,  even  in  an  ordinary  understanding.  Nor 
doth  any  undertaking  seem  more  feasible,  or  less  to  be 
despaired  of,  than  plainly  and  satisfyingly  to  evince,  to  an 
unprejudicecl  understanding  that  shall  attend,  these  first 
foundations  of  a  religion  and  a  temple,  vi~.  That  God  is; 
and — That  he  is  conversable  with  men.  or  is  such  as  is 
capable  and  apt  to  receive  worship  from  men,  and  impart 
blessedness  to  them.  We  shall  therefore  so  far  interrupt 
the  current  of  this  discourse,  as  to  endeavour  this,  by 
giving  a  brief  and  plain  sum  of  the  more  principal  things 
that  have  been  said  to  this  purpose  already.     And  to  pre- 

f  Tertull.  contra  Hemiog. 


68 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  IL 


pare  for  it,  must  desire  you  that  have  not  been,  as  yet, 
wont  to  employ  your  minds  this  way,  to  observe  the  fol- 
lowing directions : 

First,  That  you  would  not  give  place  to  discourage- 
ment, nor  think  too  meanly  of  the  understanding  whereby 
God  hath  distinguished  you  from  the  inferior  creatures. 
There  is  that  mind  and  spirit  in  man,  which  doth  compass 
many  things  of  far  greater  difficulty  than  it  is  here  to  be 
employed  about ;  though  it  can  be  exercised  about  nothing 
of  so  great  consequence.  That  apprehensive  power  that 
can  take  in  the  orderly  frame  of  such  notions  as  are  requi- 
site to  the  exact  skill  of  numbering  or  of  measuring  things, 
of  navigation,  of  trade,  of  managing  the  common  afiairs  of 
human  life ;  that  can  lay  down  to  itself  such  prudent 
maxims  and  rules  whereby  the  inconveniences  may  in 
great  part  be  avoided  which  are  incident  to  common  con- 
versation, and  the  advantages  gained  which  may  serve 
one's  own  private  and  secular  interests  ;  that  understand- 
ing which  can  do  all  this,  would  far  more  easily  compre- 
hend as  much  as  is  needful  to  the  certain  knowledge  of 
God's  existence,  and  that  he  is  such  as  we  ought  to  wor- 
ship, and  may  enjoy,  if  it  apply  itself  hereto.  Do  not  so 
despair  as  not  to  make  an  attempt ;  you  know  not  the 
strength  of  your  own  mind  till  you  have  tried  it. 

Secondly,  That  you  indulge  not,  or  do  not  suffer  your- 
selves to  be  insensibly  seized  by,  a  mean  and  sordid  sloth. 
Set  your  thoughts  a-work  with  vigorous  diligence.  Give 
not  out  before  you  have  well  begun.  Resolve,  since  you 
have  a  thinking  power  about  you,  you  will  use  it  to  this 
most  necessary  purpose ;  and  hold  your  thoughts  to  it. 
See  that  your  minds  do  not  presently  tire  and  flag  ;  that 
you  be  rationally  peremptory,  and  soberly  obstinate,  in 
this  pursuit :  yield  not  to  be  diverted.  Disdain,  having 
minds  that  can  reach  up  to  the  great  Original  and  Author 
of  all  things,  that  they  should  be  confined  to  this  dirty 
earth,  or  only  to  things  low  and  mean. 

Thirdly,  Look  on  the  things  that  are  rationally  evident 
to  your  understandings,  as  equally  certain  with  what  you 
see  with  your  eyes.  Are  you  not  as  sure  that  two  and 
two  make  four  (which  judgment  is  the  act  of  your  mind) 
as  that  this  thing  which  you  look  upon  is  black  or  white, 
or  of  this  or  that  shape  or  figure  1  Do  not  so  debase  your 
own  understandings,  as  to  think  nothing  certain  that  comes 
under  their  judgment.  It  is  true,  they  are  apt  enough  to 
be  deceived  in  many  things,  and  so  is  your  sense  too;  but 
if  your  sense  could  make  you  certain  of  nothing,  what 
would  become  of  justice  and  government  among  men  % 
Who  could  take  an  oath  before  a  magistrate  1  What 
would  become  of  the  common  actions  and  affairs  of  life  1 
How  could  you  eat  or  drink,  or  buy  or  sell,  if  you  could 
not  certainly  distinguish  one  thing  from  another  ?  Some 
things  are  so  plain  as  that  you  can  be  in  no  doubt  about 
them,  as  that  this  is  bread,  not  a  stone ;  that  a  horse,  not 
a  sheep  ;  otherwise  all  the  world  must  stand  still,  and  all 
commerce  and  action  cease.  And  if  there  were  not  some 
things  sure  to  your  minds,  that  you  may  ccrlainly  say,  in 
some  plain  cases  at  least,  this  is  true  and  that  false,  this 
right  and  that  wrong,  you  would  be  at  as  great  a  loss. 
Otherwise,  you  might  be  apt  to  think  a  part  of  a  thing 
greater  than  the  whole,  or  that  the  same  man  might  be  at 
London  and  at  Rome  at  the  same  time;  and  you  might 
be  as  ready  to  kill  your  own  father  as  to  do  him  rever- 
ence, or  to  commit  robbery  upon  your  rich  neighbour  as 
relieve  the  poor,  and  judge  the  one  as  good  an  action  as 
the  other. 

Fourthly,  As  any  particular  thing  is  offered  to  you,  for 
the  purpose  we  are  here  aiming  at,  consider  it  well  by 
itself,  before  you  go  further;  and  think  thus.  Is  this  plain 
and  certain,  yea  or  no  1  If  at  the  first  sight  you  think  it 
not  so,  observe  diligently  what  is  brought  for  the  proof  of 
it,  and  see  whether  now  it  be  not  manifestly  certain ;  and 
when  you  once  find  it  is,  fix  it  in  your  mind  as  a  certain- 
ty ;  say.  Thus  far  I  am  sure.  Let  not  your  thoughts  run 
back  to  this  as  a  doubtful  thing  any  more,  or  unravel  their 
own  work;  but  make  use  of  it  as  a  certainty,  to  your 
further  purpose. 

II.  Being  thus  prepared,  take  this  brief  account  of  what 
hath  before  been  discoursed  more  at  large.     And, 

First,  As  to  this  first  and  great  principle, — That  there  is 
a  God.     Be  but  patient  of  being  led  by  the  hand  a  few 


easy  steps  in  a  way  that  is  in  some  part  sufficiently  beaten, 
however,  that  is  sufficiently  plain,  and  it  is  to  be  hoped 
you  will  soon  see  that  matter  put  out  of  all  doubt.  Let 
this  then  be  your  first  step : 

1.  That  somewhat  or  other  there  is,  that  hath  been  from 
all  eternity  necessarily  and  of  itself,  without  dependence 
upon  any  thing  else.  If  this  be  not  at  the  first  view  evi- 
dent to  you.  or  if  it  seem  too  large  a  step,  we  will  divide 
it  into  parts;  and  consider  well  what  is  said  for  the  proof 
of  it,  by  these  degrees. 

(1.)  Somewhat  or  other  must  ever  have  been;  for  other- 
wise, how  could  anything  come  to  be  at  all?  Do  you 
think  it  was  possible,  if  ever  there  was  nothing  at  all  in 
being,  of  one  sort  or  other,  that  any  thing  should  have 
come  into  being  1  No  surely,  for  which  way  should  it  bel 
It  could  not  be  made  by  another,  there  being  no  other  to 
make  it ;  and  it  could  not  make  itself,  itself  being  as  yet 
nothing.  But  sure  you  can  easily  apprehend,  that  to  make 
a  thing  be,  is  to  do  something ;  and  as  easily,  that  Avhat  is 
nothing,  can  do  nothing.  Therefore,  when  your  eyes  tell 
you  that  something  now  is,  you  maybe  as  sure,  as  of  what 
you  see  with  your  eyes,  that  somewhat  or  other  hath  ever 
been.  Say  with  j'ourself.  Somewhat  now  is,  therefore  some- 
what hath  ever  been.  If  you  discern  not  the  clearness  of 
this  consequence,  take  the  opposite  to  it :  Nothing  now  is, 
therefore  nothing  will  ever  he ;  it  is  as  broad  as  long. 

(2.)  You  may  next  proceed  thus,  that  something  or 
other  hath  been  of  itself ;  that  is,  Mnthout  depending  upon 
any  thing  else,  or  being  beholden  to  any  other  thing  for  its 
being.  Now  here  pause  awhile,  and  consider  what  is 
said  to  make  this  plain  to  you.  Either  you  must  acknow- 
ledge something  hath  ever  been  of  itself,  or  yon  must  say 
that  all  things  that  are,  or  ever  have  been,  were  fromano- 
ther,  without  any  exception.  But  mark  now,  if  you  say 
that  all  things  that  are,  or  ever  have  been,  without  except- 
ing any,  were  from  another,  you  contradict  yourself;  for 
besides  all  things  that  are,  or  ever  have  been,  Avithout  ex- 
cepting any,  there  is  not  another  from  whom  they  could 
be.  Therefore  it  is  impossible  that  all  things  without  ex- 
ception should  have  been  from  another  ;  whence  then  it  is 
plain  that  something  must  have  been  of  itself,  without  de- 
pending for  its  being  upon  any  thing  else  :  for  it  will  come 
to  the  same  contradiction,  if  }''ou  say  all  things  depend 
upon  some  other ;  since  there  is  nothing  beyond  all  things : 
therefore,  to  say  that  all  things  depend,  is  to  say  they  de- 
pend on  nothing,  that  is,  they  do  not  depend.  And  to 
say  they  have  all  depended  on  one  another  for  their  being, 
or  made  one  another,  is  altogether  as  absurd;  for  it  will 
make  the  whole  compass  or  circle  of  all  being  to  depend 
upon  nothing,  or  come  at  length  to  this,  that  some  one 
made  itself,  or  even  (which  is  more  gross)  made  its  own 
maker;  unless  you  will  rest  in  some  one  that  made  all  the 
other,  and  was  itself  not  made  by  any  of  them.  If  you 
do  not  apprehend  this  yourself,  desire  any  one  that  hath  a 
better  understanding  to  explain  it  to  you,  and  you  will 
soon  see  the  matter  intended  by  it  to  be  as  evident  as  your 
heart  can  wish.  And  so  this  will  be  out  of  question  with 
you — That  somewhat  was  oiitself ;  which  added  to  what 
was  proved  before,  comes  to  this — That  somewhat  was 
ever  of  itself  And  both  these  thus  conjoined,  plainly  ap- 
pear from  what  hath  been  said.  For  we  have  seen  that 
nothing  could  possibly  make  itself,  (which  would  absurdly 
imply,  that  before,  it  both  was  and  was  not,)  and  therefore, 
whatsoever  was  of  itself,  must  ever  have  been,  or  never 
had  beginning  of  being.  So  much,  then,  I  suppose  you 
take  to  be  most  certain,  that  something  hath  ever  been  of 
itself     Whereupon  )'ou  may  further  add, 

(".)  That  what  was  ever  of  itself,  was  necessarily.  I 
hope  you  understand  what  is  meant  by  being  necessarily, 
that  is,  being  so  as  that  it  could  not  possibly  but  be.  You 
may  perceive  that  some  things  are  so  as  that  it  was  possi- 
ble they  might  not  have  been,  as  a  house,  a  town,  a  gar- 
ment, or  whatsoever  was  made  by  such  makers  as  might 
have  chosen  whether  they  would  have  made  it,  or  no. 
Yea,  or  whatsoever  is  any  way  made  to  be,  having  before 
not  been  ;  for  what  once  was  not,  it  is  manifest  it  was  then 
possible  for  it  not  to  be.  But  to  be  necessarily,  is  to  be 
so  as  that  it  could  never  possibly  but  have  been;  that  is, 
what  is  necessarily,  is  somewhat  of  so  excellent  a  nature, 
as  that  it  could  never  be  out  of  being.    Now  what  was 


Chap.  III. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


ever  of  itself,  it  was  in  this  sense  necessarily ;  viz.  so  as 
that  the  excellency  of  its  nature  was  such,  as  could  never 
permit  that  it  should  not  be  ;  whence  the  name  I  AM 
agrees  peculiarly  and  always  thereunto.  Nothing  can  other- 
wise be  of  itself,  (not  by  making  itself,  which  you  have 
seen  is  impossible,)  but'  by  an  everlasting  possession  of 
that  excellency  of  being,  which  excludes  all  possibility  of 
not  being.  It  depends  upon  no  one's  choice  or  power, 
whether  that  which  is  of  itself  shall  be  or  not  be. 

(4.)  What  hath  thus  ever  been  nccessarilJ/,  still  is,  and 
will  ever  be ;  which  is  plain  upon  the  same  ground.  What 
could  never  but  be,  can  never  but  be  ;  for  its  nature  is 
such,  as  whereto  not  to  be  is  impossible.  Otherwise,  if 
its  nature  had  not  been  such,  there  being  nothing  else  by 
which  it  should  be  made,  it  could  never  have  been. 
Wherefore  thus  far  you  have  firm  footing  in  this  first 
step ;  no  part  of  the  ground  which  it  measures  shakes  un- 
der you.  You  may  say  you  are  sure  of  this — That  some- 
what there  now  is,  that  hath  been  from  all  eternity  neces- 
sarily and  of  itself,  without  dependence  upon  any  thing 
else,  and  that  can  never  ceai>e  to  be. — Set  this  down  there- 
fore for  a  certainty,  and  then  add  to  it, 

2.  That  whatsoever  is  not  necessarily  and  of  itself,  is 
from  and  by  that  which  is  necessarily  and  of  itself,  as  the 
first  Author  and  Cause  thereof.  This  is  so  certain,  that 
nothing  needs  to  be  said  for  the  proof  of  it  more  than  hath 
been  said  already,  so  that  you  do  but  understand  the 
meaning  of  it;  which  you  cannot  but  do,  if  you  consider 
that  all  things  that  are,  or  ever  were,  must  be  of  one  of 
these  two  sorts,  viz.  what  was  of  itself,  and  what  was  not 
of  itself,  but  from  another :  therefore,  what  is  not  of  the 
first  sort,  must  be  of  the  second ;  that  is,  what  was  not  of 
itself,  must  be  from  another ;  and  then,  what  other  must 
it  be  from'?  Surely  from  what  was  of  itself,  as  its  first  and 
chief  cause,  whatsoever  inferior  or  secondary  causes  it  may 
have  had  besides,  that  were  before  it,  caused  by  that  first. 
So  that  you  have  now  plainly  before  you,  and  in  view, 
some  or  other  eternal,  necessary  Being,  not  only  to  be  con- 
sidered as  it  is  in  itself,  but  as  the  original  and  root  of  all 
besides.     Then  go  forward  a  little,  and  further  add, 

3.  Neither  this  visible  world,  nor  any  thing  of  it,  is  ne- 
cessarily, or  of  itself,  without  depending  upon  any  thing 
else;  and  was  therefore  created  and  made  by  some  more 
excellent  Being  that  was  so,  and  is  quite  distinct  and 
diverse  from  it.  That  this  may  be  evident  to  you,  con- 
sider, 

(1.)  That  whatsoever  is  changeable  or  imperfect,  and 
capable  of  becoming  more  perfect,  is  not  necessarily,  and 
of  itself,  without  dependence  on  any  thing  else.  For  what 
is  of  itself  necessarily,  and  without  dependence  on  any 
other,  must  have  whatsoever  belongs  to  it,  all  at  once  ;  for 
from  whence  should  any  addition  or  change  happen  any 
way  to  it  1  Not  from  any  other,  for  it  no  more  depends 
on  another  for  addition,  than  it  is  liable  to  diminution  by 
another,  being  what  it  is  necessarily,  or  from  itself:  for 
nothing  can  impart  or  add  what  it  hath  not  ;  and  what  it 
hath  was  in  it  before,  and  was  in  it  necessarily,  and  there- 
fore unalterably,  and  without  possibility'  of  any  change. 
Now  you  know  this  visible  world  is  continually  changing, 
and  in  an  imperfect  state  ;  and  we  may  add,  that  there  is 
somewhat  invisible,  of  whose  present  being  we  are  certain, 
that  was  not  of  itself,  and  that  did  not  make  this  world. 
For  instance,  we  are  certain  of  the  present  being  of  our 
o-wTi  mind  and  spirit,  which  we  cannot  see  with  our  eyes, 
but  by  self-reflection  we  are  sure  we  have  somewhat  in  us 
that  can  think.  Nor  is  there  any  thing  that  comes  under 
our  immediate,  certain  observation,  more  excellent  than 
man  himself,  especially  his  mind  and  soul.  And  do  vou 
not  yourself  know,  and  find  how  changeable,  indigent, 
and  imperfect  that  is"?  Therefore  you  maybe  sure  it  is 
not  of  itself,  or  the  maker  of  this  visible  world.  If  all  the 
men  in  the  world  should  join  all  their  wit  and  pov/er 
together,  which  way  would  they  go  to  work  to  make  such 
a  world  as  thisl  yea,  or  even  to  make  one  single  pile  of 
grass,  or  grain  of  sand  1  Which  way  can  you  devise,  then, 
they  should  make  the  .sun  or  stars,  or  such  an  earth  as 
this?  It  is  plain,  then,  that  all  this  world  had  a  maker, 
distinct  from  itself 

(2.)  Whatsoever  being  is  of  itself,  is  more  excellent  than 
what  is  not  of  itself     This  3'ou  cannot  but  assent  to  at  the 


first  sight :  for  besides  that  you  must  needs  acknowledge 
it  better  to  live  of  oneself,  than  to  be  beholden  to  another, 
you  must  also  know  that  whatever  being  is  not  of  itself, 
hath  no  excellency  in  it,  but  what  was  in  that  being  that 
was  of  itself  before ;  and  therefore  it  had  in  it  all  the  ex- 
cellency that  is  in  such  things  as  proceeded  from  it,  (una- 
bated because  in  it  necessarily,)  together  with  the  proper 
excellency  of  its  own  being, "whereas  the  other  sort  of 
beings  have  but  their  own  derived  excellency  only. 
Wherefore  this  also  is  most  evident,  that  this  world  had  a 
maker  distinct  from  and  more  excellent  than  itself,  that 
changes  not,  and  whereto  that  name  most  properly  agrees, 
I  AM  THAT  I  AM.  Being  sure  of  this,  you  may  pro- 
ceed, and  conclude, 

4.  That  the  things  which  are  manifestly  not  of  them- 
selves, but  created  and  made,  do  plainly  show  that  the 
Maker  of  them  doth  excel  in  power,  wisdom,  and  good- 
ness. The  greatness  of  his  works  shows  his  mighty  power; 
the  nature,  exactness,  and  order  of  them,  his  admirable 
wisdom  ;  and  his  own  self-sufficiency,  and  independency 
on  the  things  made,  show  his  rich  and  vast  goodness  in 
making  them,  as  you  may  see  more  at  large  in  Part  I. 
Now  therefore,  if  you  have  attended,  you  cannot  but  find 
you  are  sure  and  at  a  plain  certainty  concerning  these  four 
things  :  (I.)  That  somewhat  was  ever,  and  is  necessarily. 
Ci.')  That  what  was  not  so  did  arise  from  that  which  was. 
(3.)  That  this  w'orld  being  not  so,  did  therefore  spring  from 
that  eternal,  necessary,  self-subsisting  Being.  (4.)  And 
that  this  Being  hath  those  particular  excellences,  whereof 
there  are  the  manifest  appearances  and  footsteps  in  the 
works  that  are  made  by  him,  (viz.  especially  power,  wis- 
dom, and  goodness,)  in  himself.  And  thus  the  invisible 
things  of  him  from  the  creation  of  the  world  are  clearly 
seen,  being  understood  bj^  the  things  that  are  made,  even 
his  eternal  power  and  godhead  ;  so  that  they  who  see  them 
not  are  without  excuse.  Rom.  i.  20.  If  5-ou  be  sure  that 
any  thing  is,  you  may  be  sure  somewhat  was  ever  of 
itself:  if  you  be  sure  any  thing  that  was  not  of  itself 
hath  appearances  of  power,  wisdom,  and  goodness  in  the 
frame  of  it,  you  may  be  sure  that  Being  which  was  of 
itself  is  thB  powerful,  wise,  and  good  Creator  and  Maker 
of  it.  It  is  to  be  hoped,  then,  you  are  at  a  certaintj-, — 
That  God  is. 

III.  Secondly,  And  now  as  to  the  second  principle,  that 
hath  been  insisted  on  also  in  the  former  Part, — That  this 
God  is  conversable  with  men.  You  cannot  surely  doubt, 
but  that  he  that  made  you,  and  gave  j-ou  all  that  any  way 
belongs  to  your  being,  can  apply  himself  to  you,  or  any  of 
his  creatures,  in  a  way  suitable  to  the  natures  which  he 
hath  put  into  you  and  them;  nor  that  he  is  read}-  to  con- 
verse with  you,  in  a  way  suitable  to  the  nature  he  hath 
given  you,  if  you  be  such  towards  him,  and  so  apply 
yourself  to  him,  as  you  ought.  For  it  is  not  a  greater 
thing  to  do  so,  nor  more  exceeding  or  going  beyond  the 
reach  of  his  power,  wisdom,  and  goodness,  as  you  cannot 
but  see,  than  to  have  given  being  to  3'ou,  and  a.il  things. 

But  now  if  what  is  further  discoursed  in  that  former 
Part,  concerning  the  oneness  of  the  Divine  Being,  and 
the  infiniteness  thereof,  or  concerning  any  other  perfec- 
tions there  particularly  asserted  unto  it,  seem  not  so  plain 
to  you  as  is  requisite  to  guide  and  facilitate  your  applica- 
tions to  him ;  what  hath  been  more  plainly  said  in  this,  ia 
however  sufficient,  as  more  primarih'  fundamental  and 
pre-requisite  to  that  further  knowledge  of  liis  nature  and 
will  towards  you,  which  in  another  way  is  to  be  had  and 
sought  after. 

A  cloud  and  darkness  are  now  drawn  over  the  world  of 
mankind;  and  though  it  be  still  very  easily  discernible 
that  God  is,  it  is  yet  more  difficult  to  attain  to  so  distinct 
apprehensions  u-hat  he  is,  as  are  necessary  to  our  convers- 
ing with  him.  Against  this  difficulty,  he  hath  aflbrded  a 
gracious  relief ;  that  is,  he  hath  pi ovided  there  should  be 
a  more  express  discovery  of  him  extant  among  men,  than 
can  be  collected  bj'  their  making  observations  upon  this 
world.  The  case  was  such  with  man,  (grown  now  so  great 
a  stranger  to  God,)  as  to  require  a  written  revelation  of  his 
nature  and  will ;  and  we  have  it  in  those  scriptures  which 
bear  with  us  the  name  of  the  word  of  God.  It  were  in- 
deed very  unseasonable  and  absurd,  to  urge  their  authority 
in  the  inquiry,  whether  there  be  a  God  or  no  1  For  what 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  II. 


authority  have  they  more  than  other  writings,  bat  as  they 
are  God's  word  1  Therefore  to  expect  or  give  assent  to 
them  as  such,  vsrhile  yet  it  remains  an  undecided  contro- 
versy, whether  there  be  any  such  one,  or  no,  for  whose 
sake  the  assent  should  be  given,  were  to  expose  our  reli- 
gion, not  to  prove  it.  These  holy  writings  were  not  in- 
tended, by  their  affirmation  of  it,  to  inform  us  of  God's 
existence,  which  they  suppose,  and  do  not  prove,  as  a 
thing  we  may  otherwise  be  certain  of;  but  to  teach  us  our 
duty  towards  him,  and  what  our  expectations  may  be  from 
him ;  and  do  therefore  give  us  a  true  representation  and 
discovery  of  his  nature,  (so  far  as  it  was  needful  for  us 
preparatively  first  to  know  it,)  and  then  next,  of  the  pre- 
sent state  of  things  between  him  and  us,  that  we  might  be 
directed  how  to  apply  ourselves  to  him  suitably  to  both 
the  one  and  the  other.  It  is  true,  that  we  can  never  know 
that  there  is  a  God,  without  knowing  somewhat  of  his 
nature,  or  what  a  one  he  is.  We  cannot  so  much  as  in- 
quire whether  he  be  or  no,  but  we  must  have  some  notion 
in  our  minds  of  the  thing  we  inquire  about ;  and  so  much 
as  is  necessary  to  this  purpose,  may  be  plainly  gathered  in 
the  way  we  have  gone  hitherto.  For  if  we  understand  the 
diflerence  between  something  and  nothing,  between  being 
and  no  being,  and  find  that  something  is,  or  that  there  is 
some  being ;  and  again,  if  we  understand  the  difference 
between  a  thing's  being  of  itself,  and  being  of  or  from 
another,  and  find  the  former  must  be  the  original  of  t-he 
latter,  we  cannot  but  understand  ourselves,  when  we  say 
there  is  an  Original  Being.  And  having  some  under- 
standing what  is  meant  by  power,  wisdom,  and  goodness; 
withal  finding  that  not  only  the  effects  of  these,  but  these 
very  things  themselves,  are  in  the  world,  we  cannot  but  be 
sure  (because  these  things  come  not  of  nothing)  that  the 
Original  Being  is  powerful,  wise,  and  good.  And  now 
when  we  have  thus  found  out  an  Original  Being,  that  is 
of  wisdom,  power,  and  goodness  sulficient  to  be  the  Author 
of  such  a  world  as  this,  we  at  once  know  both  what  God 
is,  (sufficiently  to  distinguish  him  from  all  things  else,) 
and  are  at  a  certainty  that  he  is. 

When  we  perceive  that  he  hath  given  to  all  breath  and 
being  and  all  things ;  we  have  sought,  and  even  felt  and 
found  him  out,  and  found  that  he  is  not  far  from  any  one 
of  us,  since  in  him  we  live  and  move  and  have  our  being ; 
that  he  is  every  where  present,  in  this  his  creation,  as  the 
great  Sustainer  and  the  Life  of  the  universe  ;  and  foras- 
much especially  as  we  are  his  oflspring,  (as  even  the  light 
of  a  heathen  poet  could  reach  to  discover,  a  sort  of  intelli- 
gent, designing,  active  beings,)  that  therefore  the  Godhead 
is  not  like  silver,  or  gold,  &c.,  but  of  a  nature  more  nearly 
resembling  that  of  our  own  souls,  and  the  higher  excel- 
lences of  the  best  of  his  creatures  although  eminently  con- 
taining in  himself  also  all  the  real  perfections,  virtues,  and 
powers  of  all  the  re.st.  When  we  understand  so  much  of 
God,  (as  we  may  by  the  light  of  our  own  reason,)  we  un- 
derstand enough  to  give  a  fuvuulation  to  religion,  and  to 
let  us  see  he  ought  to  have  a  temple,  and  worship ;  and 
another  sort  of  temple  than  is  made  by  men's  hands,  other 
worship  Ihan  can  be  performed  by  the  hands  of  men;  as 
is  there  clearly  argued,  and  inferred  by  the  apostle,  upon 
those  plain  grounds.  Now  when  we  are  arrived  thus  far, 
it  is  seasonable  to  make  use  of  the  further  help  which  we 
may  observe  the  great,  and  wise,  and  good  God  to  have 
most  condescendingly,^  most  aptly,  and  most  mercifully 
afforded  us,  for  our  more  distinct  understanding  of  his 
nature,  and  our  own  state  ;  and  how  we  are  to  behave  our- 
selves towards  him  thereujion. 

IV.  Taking  notice  therefore  that  there  is  a  written  reve- 
lation of  him  extant  in  the  world,  that  bears  his  name,  and 
gives  itself  out  to  be  from  him ;  if  now  we  look  into  it, 
observe  the  import  and  design  of  it,  compare  it  with  what 
we  before  knew  of  his  nature  and  our  own  ;  consider  what 
is  most  obvious  to  an  easy  self-reflection  in  our  own  state 
and  case,  and  how  exactly  this  written  revelation  agrees 
and  corresponds  to  those  our  former  notices ;  taking  in 
withal  the  many  considerations  that  concur  besides,  to 
evidence  to  us  the  divine  original  and  authority  thereof: 
we  camiot  but  have  much  rational  inducement  and  obliga- 

a  If  we  take  notice  that  in  some  parts  of  this  volume  there  are  very  ancient 
predictions,  of  the  strongest  and  most  unhliely  events,  that  we  see  exactly  ful- 
filled in  the  other  parts. 


tion  to  receive,  with  all  reverence  and  gratitude,  this  reve- 
lation, as  from  God  ;  and  to  rely  upon  it,  as  a  sure  and 
sacred  light  sent  down  from  heaven,  to  direct  us  in  all  our 
concernments  God-ward.  For  finding  our  own  great  need 
of  such  additional  light,  and  apprehending  it  sufficiently 
agreeable  to  the  divine  goodness  to  afford  it,  and  expecting 
it  to  be  sufh,  in  its  scope  and  design,  as  we  find  it  is:  if 
we  further  consider  it  must  have  had  some  author,  and 
perceiving  it  not  easy,  with  any  plausible  pretence,  to  affix 
it  to  any  other  than  to  God  himself;  if  we  consider  that  it 
was  impossible  it  could  be  invented  by  men,  without  some 
design  of  self-advantage,  either  iu  this  world  or  in  the 
other;  and  how  absurd  any  such  expectation  must  be, 
either  from  men  here,  (the  contents  thereof  being  so  re- 
pugnant to  the  common  inclinations  o-f  men,  as  to  oblige 
those  that  owned  them  to  the  severest  sufferings  on  that 
account,)  or  from  God  hereafter,  who  could  not  be  expected 
to  reward  forgery,  falsehood,  and  the  usurpation  of  his 
name  :  if,  again,  we  further  observe  the  positive  attesta- 
tions whereby  he  hath  challenged  and  owned  it  as  his  own, 
and  wherein  the  divine  power  hath  borne  witness  to  the 
divine  truth  contained  in  it :  if  the  matters  of  fact  on  which 
all  depends  appear  not  less  certain  than  that  there  were 
men  and  nations  in  the  world,  that  we  have  not  seen,  and 
before  we  were  born;  if  we  see  it  not  only  improbable, 
but  even  next  to  impossible,  that  the  records  of  those  mi- 
raculous attestations  should  have  been  forged,  and  nations 
imposed  upon  thereby  ;  and  amongst  them,  many  of  the 
wisest  of  men  in  those  very  times  when  the  things  recorded 
were  alleged  to  have  been  done,  and  in  a  matter  wherein 
their  eternal  hope  was  concerned ;.''  we  shall  upon  the 
whole  see  cause  to  judge.  That  as  it  were  most  absurd  to 
suppose  such  a  revelation  given  by  God,  and  no  sufficient 
rational  evidence  withal  given  that  it  is  from  him,  (without 
which  it  cannot  serve  its  end,  and  s'O  would  signify  no- 
thing,) so  that  there  is  nothing  wanting,  in  divine  estimate 
itself,  to  make  up  such  a  sufficient,  rational  evidence  ;  nor 
in  our  own,  unless  we  would  suppose  it  necessary  that 
every  man  should  have  a  Bible  reached  him  down  by  an 
immediate  hand  from  heaven,  or  make  some  other  .suppo- 
sition as  fond  and  vain  as  that ;  or  that  we  count  not  that 
sufficient  evidence,  which  ought  to  satisfy  our  reason,  if  it 
do  not  gratify  our  fancy  and  curiosity  too.  It  is  not  fit, 
here,  to  say  more  of  the  divine  original  of  those  holy 
writings,  nor  needful ;  so  much  being  written  already,b 
with  so  great  clearness,  on  that  subject,  by  many.  That 
therefore  being  out  of  question  what  you  cannot  reason  out 
yourselves,  or  apprehend  from  the  reasonings  of  others, 
concerning  God's  nature,  tending  to  represent  him  worthy 
of  a  temple  with  you,  and  capable  of  receiving  and  re- 
warding your  sincere  and  spiritual  worship,  fetch  out 
from  that  divine  volume  ;  for  you  may  be  sure,  though 
you  cannot  search  him  out  imto  perfection,  he  perfectly 
understands  himself,  and  is  certainly  such,  as  he  there 
tells  you  he  is  :  and  he  there  reveals  himself  to  be  such,  as 
to  whom  the  temple  and  worship  we  here  intend,  cannot 
be  doubted  (as  he  hath  ordered  things)  to  be  both  dxie  and 
grateful.  Whatever  might  be  otherwise  matter  of  doubt, 
is,  by  his  express  discovery  of  himself,  taken  away. 

V.  If  it  were  still  a  doubt,  after  all  that  hath  been  for- 
merly said  for  the  reasoning  out  of  these  things,  whether 
the  Deity  be  one  only,  or  manifold;  whether  the  world  had 
but  one,  or  had  not  many  makers ;  and  so,  whether  there 
be  no  danger  of  misapplying  our  religion,  or  of  mistaking 
the  object  of  our  worship.  This  word  plainly  tells  us. 
There  is  but  07ic  God,  the  Father,  of  whom  are  all  things. 
1  Cor.  viii.  6.  That  he  is  God,  and  there  is  none  else. 
Isa.  xiv.  21,  22.  And  that  however  there  be  three  that 
bear  witness  in  heaven,  and  the  stamp  of  whose  name  is, 
in  our  baptism,  distinctly  and  solemnly  put  upon  us ; 
Matt,  xxviii.  1  John  v.  yet  (as  in  many  other  instances, 
that  may  be  in  some  respect  three,  which  in  some  other 
respect  is  but  one)  without  the  unnecessary,  punctual  de- 
claration, how  these  are  three,  and  how  but  one,  it  ex- 
pressly tells  us,  these  three  are  07ie. 

And  if  it  be  yet  a  doubt  with  us  (in  which  the  reasonings 
of  some  may  be  too  short  to  determine  and  resolve  them) 

b  Dr.  Stillingfleet,  in  his  Origines  .Sacrae,  Grotius  de  Verit.  Chr.  Relis.  Hiief. 
Demonstr.  Evangel.  &c.  Mr.  Baxter's  Reasons  of  Cluiatian  Religion.  With 
many  more. 


Chap.  IV. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


71 


whether  this  one  God  be  so  absolutely  and  every  way  per- 
fect as  to  be  sufficient  for  us  all ;  whether  he  can  under- 
stand all  our  concernments,  relieve  us  in  all  our  necessi- 
ties, hear  our  prayers,  satisfy  our  desires,  receive  our  ac- 
knowledgments and  thanksgivings,  and  take  notice  with 
what  love  and  sincerity  they  are  tendered  unto  him ;  or, 
if  he  can  do  for  us  according  to  our  necessities,  and  rea- 
sonable desires  ;  whether  we  have  any  ground  to  believe 
that  he  will ;  this  word  of  his  plainly  assures  us.  That  he 
is  God  all-sufficient.  Gen.  xvii.  1. ;  that  he  halh  all  fulness 
in  him.  It  often  represents  him  to  us,  under  the  name  of 
the  Lord  God  Almighty ;  tells  us  that  he  can  do  every 
thing,  and  that  he  doth  whatsoever  it  pleaseth  him.  It 
tells  us  his  understanding  is  infinite,  and  particularly  as- 
sures that  he  searches  the  hearts  of  men,  and  tries  their 
reins;  that  they  cannot  think  a  thought,  or  speak  a  word, 
but  he  understands  them  afar  off,  and  knows  them  alto- 
gether :  that  his  eyes  are  upon  all  the  ways  of  men ;  that 
he  knows  all  things,  and  therefore  knows  if  they  love  him: 

And  that  we  may  be  the  more  fully  put  out  of  doubt 
how  easy  it  is  to  him  to  do  so,  we  are  assured.  That  he 
is  everywhere  present,  that  he  fills  heaven  and  earth,  that 
the  heaven,  and  heaven  of  heavens,  cannot  contain  him  ; 
that  there  is  no  going  from  his  Spirit,  or  flying  from  his 
presence ;  that  if  one  go  up  to  heaven,  he  is  there ;  lie 
down  in  hell,  he  is  there ;  go  to  the  uttermost  part  of  the 
sea,  yet  there  his  hand  shall  lead,  and  his  right  hand  hold 
him. 

VI.  And  that  all  doubt  may  vanish,  concerning  his  will 
and  gracious  inclination,  how  expressly  doth  he  make 
himself  known  by  his  name  1  viz.  That  he  is  the  Lord, 
the  Lord  God,  merciful  and  gracious,  long-suffering,  and 
abundant  in  goodness  and  truth,  &c.  Exod.  xxxiv.  7.  And 
by  the  same  blessed  and  inspired  penman  of  a  part  of  these 
holy  writings,  (the  beloved  disciple,  who  lay  in  the  bosom 
of  his  only-begotten  Son ;  who  also  is  in  the  bosom  of  the 
Father,  and  hath  declared  him,)  we  are  not  only  told  that 
God  is  Light,  whereby  the  knowledge,  purity,  simplicity, 
and  glory  of  the  Divine  Being  are  represented  ;  but  also, 
once  and  again,  that  God  is  Love,  that  we  might  imder- 
stand  him  as  a  Being  not  of  more  glorious  excellency  in 
himself,  than  of  gracious  propensions  towards  his  creatures. 
And  lest  it  should  be  thought  our  meanness  should  ex- 
empt us,  and  put  us  beneath  his  regard,  we  are  told.  He 
taketh  care  for  sparrows,  he  heareth  the  ravens  when  they 
cry ;  and  generally,  that  the  eyes  of  all  wait  upon  him, 
and  he  gives  them  their  meat  in  season,  Psal.  cxlv.  (which 
even  the  brute  creatures  are  emphatically  said  to  seek  of 
God,)  and  that  he  opens  his  hand,  and  satisfies  the  desires 
of  every  living  thing,  Psal.  civ.  And  besides  what  he 
hath  so  expressly  testified  concerning  his  own  nature,  his 
favourable  inclinations  towards  men  might  sufficiently  be 
collected  from  that  ver}'  nature  which  he  hath  given  to 
man,  considered  in  comparison  and  reference  to  his  own ; 
that  he  made  him  in  his  own  image ;  and  that  he  being 
the  Father  of  spirits,  hath  placed  a  spirit  in  man,  so  agree- 
able to  his  own  spiritual  nature  ;  and  by  his  own  inspira- 
tion given  him  that  understanding,  that  the  mind  begotten 
corresponds,  by  its  most  natural  frame  and  constitution,  to 
the  mind  that  begot,  the  vovi  naTpiKds,<^  (as  it  was  anciently 
called,)  his  mm  Eternal  Mind  ;  and  that  if  its  own  origi- 
nal be  remembered,  it  turns  itself  towards  him,  seeks  his 
acquaintance  by  an  instinct  he  halh  himself  implanted  in 
it,  and  cannot  rest  till  he  have  such  a  temple  erected  in  it, 
where  both  he  and  it  may  cohabit  together.  By  all  this, 
his  aptness  to  that  converse  with  men,  which  is  imported 
in  the  notion  of  a  temple,  doth  so  far  appear,  that  at  least 
it  is  evident  such  converse  cannot  fail  to  ensue,  supposing 
that  there  w^re  nothing  in  the  way  that  might  be  a  present 
obstruction  thereto.  And  it  will  more  appear,  when  we 
have  considered  (since  there  is  somewhat  that  obstructs 
this  converse)  what  he  hath  done  to  remove  the  obstruc- 
tion, and  how  he  hath  provided  that  the  intercourse  may 
be  restored,  and  his  temple  be  resettled  with  men,  upon 
everlasting  foundations. 


e  Hieroc. 


a  Poms  and  Penia. 


CHAPTER  IV, 


That  tlicre  is  an  obstrurlion  to  this  intercourse.  The  method  of  the  following 
discourse.  Man  s  aposlacy  from  God,  and  the  vitiated  slate  of  hie  nature  ; 
not  only  repreHented  in  the  saorcd  wrilinifs,  but  also  ucknowledKcd  and  la- 
mented liy  pagans  :— very  nii.stakeiily,  in  some  resftecls  ;  wherein  periiapa 
some  of  them  not  justly  understood.  This  not  the  pnnjitive  state  of  man  : 
therefore  not  to  be  imputed  to  (he  Author  of  nature.  The  trmple  of  God 
herebybecame  unfit  for  the  divine  presence.  Unsuitable.  Disafll-cted.  Here- 
upon forsaken,  and  most  justly. 

I.  But  so  far  it  is,  that  there  should  want  probability  of 
a  very  inward  commerce  between  God  and  man,  that  we 
have  reason  to  think  it  rather  strange,  considering  his  na- 
ture and  our  own,  it  should  not  have  been  continual;  and 
that  his  unbounded  and  self-communicative  fulness  was 
not  by  him  always  afforded,  and  always  imbibed  and  drawTi 
in  by  so  capable  and  indigent  a  creature.  One  would 
wonder  what  should  have  di.sconlinued  this  intercourse  ! 
What  can  be  so  apt  to  give  and  flow  out,  as  fulness  1 
What  should  be  so  apt  to  receive  and  take  in,  as  w^ant  and 
emptiness  1  Sucji  a  commerce  then  as  can  be  supposed 
between  one*  that  is  rich  and  full,  and  them  that  are  poor 
and  necessitous,  one  would  think  should  have  never  failed. 
So  a  fabulous  dream  may  be  significant,  and  not  unin- 
structive,  touching  the  reason  and  w^ay  of  commerce  be- 
tween God  and  creature.  We  are  therefore  put  upon  at 
new  inquiry,  and  need  no  longer  spend  ourselves  in 
anxious  thoughts.  Can  there  be  any  converse  between  God 
and  men  1  That  w-e  ma)'  rather  say.  How  can  it  not  bel 
or.  How  strange  is  it  there  is  not  more  !  that  he  hath  not 
a  temple  in  every  human  breast,  repleni.shed  with  his  vital 
presence  !  that  there  are  notliing  but  ruins  and  desolation 
to  be  fotmd,  where  one  would  expect  a  fabric  worthy  of 
God,  and  an  in-dwelling  Deity  !  This  must  therefore  be 
the  sad  subject  of  our  thoughts  awhile,  What  halh  render- 
ed the  blessed  God  so  much  a  stranger  on  earth,  and  occa- 
sioned him  in  so  great  part  to  forsake  his  terrestrial 
dwelling  7  Whence  we  shall  have  the  advantage  (seeing 
how  just  cause  there  was,  on  his  part,  for  this  deplorable 
distance)  to  adore  the  grace  that  returns  him  to  us,  and 
inclined  him  to  take  that  strange  course,  which  we  find 
he  did,  to  repair  his  forlorn  temple,  and  fill  this  desolate, 
forsaken  world  with  the  joyful  sound  of  those  glad  tidings, 
"  The  tabernacle  of  God  is  with  men." 

II.  We  shall  find  he  is  no  further  a  stranger  in  this 
world,  than  as  w-e  have  made  and  continued  him  so  :  _^no 
further  a  home-dweller  in  it,  than  as  by  an  admirable  con- 
trivance of  wisdom  and  love,  that  will  be  the  eternal  won- 
der of  the  other  world,  he  hath  made  way  for  himself: 
whereby  his  propensions  towards  men,  prevailing  against 
so  great  an  obstruction,  do  even  now  appear  at  once  both 
evident  and  marvellous,  and  ought  to  be  not  only  the 
matter  of  our  belief,  but  admiration. 

Wherefore  our  discourse  must  here  proceed  by  these 
steps,  to  show — \.  That  mankind  hath  universally  revolted, 
and  been  in  a  state  of  apostacy  from  God ; — 2.  That  hereby 
the  temple  of  God  in  man  hath  been  generally  made  waste 
and  desolate; — 3.  That  he  hath  laid  both  the  new  founda- 
tians  and  the  platform  of  his  present  temple  in  Immanuel, 
God  with  ns,  his  own  incarnate  Son,  who  rebuUds,  beau- 
tifies, furnishes,  inhabits  it,  and  orders  all  the  concern- 
ments of  it. 

III.  \.  The  first  we  do  little  need  to  labour  in — every 
man's  own  reflection  upon  the  vitiated  powers  of  his  own 
soul,  would  soon,  as  to  himself,  ptit  the  matter  out  of 
doubt ;  whence  each  one's  testimony  concerning  his  own 
case,  would  amount  to  a  universal  testimony.  No  man 
that  takes  a  view  of  his  owti  dark  and  blinded  mind,  his 
slow  and  dull  apprehension,  his  uncertain  staggering  judg- 
ment, roving  conjectures,  feeble  and  mistaken  reasonings 
about  matters  that  concern  him  most ;  ill  inclinations, 
propension  to  what  is  unlawlul  to  him  and  destructive, 
aversion  to  his  truest  interest  and  best  good,  irresolution, 
drowsy  sloth,  exorbitant  and  ravenous  appetites  and  de- 
sires, impotent  and  self-vexing  passions — can  think  human, 
nature,  in  him,  is  in  its  primitive  integrity,  and  so  pure  as 
when  it  first  issued  from  its  high  and  most  pure  original. 
By  such  reflection,  every  man  may  perceive  liis  own  ill 

b  Plat.  Sympo?. 


n 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  II. 


case,  in  these  and  many  more  such  respects ;  and  by  ob- 
serving the  complaints  of  the  most  serious,  and  such  as 
have  seemed  most  to  study  themselves,  collect  it  is  gene- 
raUy  so  with  others  also. 

IV.  They  that  have  read  the  sacred  volume,  cannot  be 
ignorant  that  <=  all  flesh  have  corrupted  their  way ;  that  the 
great  God,  looking  d  down  from  heaven  upon  the  children 
of  men,  to  see  if  there  were  any  that  did  understand,  that 
did  seek  God,  hath  only  the  unpleasing  prospect  before  his 
eyes  even  of  a  universal  depravation  and  defection  ;  that 
every  one  of  them  is  gone  back  ;  they  are  altogether  be- 
come filthy,  there  is  none  that  doeth  good,  no  not  one ; 
that  all  have  sinned,^  and  come  short  of  the  glory  of  God ; 
that  this  world  lieth  in  wickedness  ;f  and  that  this  was  not 
the  first  state  of  man,  but  that  he  is  degenerated  into  it 
from  a  former  and  better  state;  that?  "God  made  him 
upright,"  but  that  he  is  become  otherwise,  by  his  own 
"many  inventions  :"  that  by  trying  conclusions  to  better  a 
state  already  truly  good,  he  brought  himself  into  this  woful 
plight ;  and  by  aiming  at  somewhat  above,  sunk  so  far  be- 
neath himself  into  that  gulf  of  impurity  and  misery,  that 
is  now  become  to  him  as  his  own  element  ajjd  natural 
state. 

Yea  and  the  matter  hath  that  evidence,  that  even  many 
of  them  who,  for  ought  we  know,  never  conversed  with 
those  sacred  records,  have  no  less  clearly  discovered  their 
sense  of  the  present  evil  state  of  man,  than  their  ignorance 
of  the  original  of  that  evil,h  though  some  of  them  carefully 
acquit  God  of  it.  We  find  their  complaints  of  the  malig- 
nity of  ignorance  j-^  surrounding  all  the  earth,  and  that  cor- 
rupts the  soul  shut  up  in  the  body ;  that,  as  a  garment  and 
web,  inwraps  the  minds  of  men,  that  they  cannot  look  to 
him  whose  pleasure  it  is  to  be  known,  and  who  is  not  to 
be  heard  with  ears,  nor  seen  with  eyes,  nor  expressed  by 
words.  That  till  it  be  rent  in  pieces,  they  have  upon 
them  the  bond  of  corruption,'^  the  dark  coverture,  the  living 
death,  the  sensible  carcass,  a  moving  sepulchre,  which 
they  carry  about  with  them. 

We  find  complaints,  that  by  bonds  and  chains^  our  mind 
is  held,  from  our  infancy  :  of  certain  "  mean  and  debasing 
passions,  that  do  fasten  and  even  nail  the  soul  to  the  body :" 
of  much  greater  evils,'"  and  more  grievous,  than  the  most 
fainful  bodily  diseases,  gouts,  stranguries,  dysenteries,  and 
myriads  of  the  like  ;  viz.  all  manner  of  sins,  wickednesses, 
transgressions,  ungodlinesses,  which  we  have  to  lament  as  the 
maladies  or  disaffections  of  our  soul. 

Of  certain  old  or  inveterate  spots,'"  that  are  by  all  means 
to  be  washed  and  purged  out :  that  there  are  certain  p7-in,- 
ciplcs  of  viciousness,°  as  pleasures,  griefs,  lusts,  fears,  en- 
kindled from  the  body,  but  mixed  with  the  soul,  and  that 
absurdly  bear  rule  over  it. 

And  the  naturalness  p  of  these  is  more  than  intimated, 
while  they  are  said  to  be  rather  from  parents  and  our  first 
elements  than  ourselves  :  or,  rather  to  be  imputed,  as  is  else- 
where ■!  said,  to  those  that  plant,  than  those  thai  are  planted,. 

Whence  also,  vice  is  said  to  be  involmitary  :'  (being 
rooted  in  our  natures  :)  that  whosoever  are  vicious,  become 
so  from  such  things  as  do  even  prevent  our  choice.     And 

c  Gen.  vi.  d  Psal.  xiv.  and  liii.  e  Rom.  iii.  f  1  John  v. 

g  Eccl.  ix.  h  Max.  Tyr.  Diss.  25. 

i  Tlie  so  controverted  Merc.  Trisraei?.  c.  7.  Seeund.  M.  Ficin.  Interpret,  i; 
Trjff  ay  ft,^tTla5  KiiKia. 

k  Tr}i  (pdofiai  f^erjjiov. 

1  cipyfioiv  xai  avi'6c(TCoiv  rov  KaTCxoutvoVr  ck  ppcdxov,  vow.  Iamb,  de  vit 
Pythas. 

m  -Tepi  TO  a-ajjjia  TrXcvpiTi8ei,Ttpi7!'Ktvfioviai,.^pcviTiici,TTodaypat,  srpay- 
yovpiai,  Svaevnpiai,  4-C.  irepi  Scrrjv  ipvxw  toAAcoi  pti^ovaKai  x'iXs'i'WT-e- 
pa,  adeafia,  KOKa.  -rt-upavoyiiai,  aae0ri^iaTa.    Idem. 

n  — cyKarenKippGijicvat  KijXiSts,  p.  256,  Hippar.  Pythag. 

o  ap\at  xnKins. 

p  £«■  Tbjv  yciiCTop!,n  Kai  ro'VO",  /laWov  r]  cl  ajiuov.    Piat.  Tim.  Locr. 

q  aiTiarcnv  ucf  tov;  (ivrevovras  act,  rcov  avTCVouevuv  uaWof.  Idem. 
Tiniffiua. 

r  KaKoi  di  aKovcnciirara  yiyvope&a.    Ibid. 

a  ap^apivot  ex  TzaiSioi',  koi  ef  apapravovciv  okovts;.  Idem. Hipp. Major, 
p.  ;296. 

t  uKovata  vaOnpaTa.    Plotin.  Enne.  1.  lib.  &. 

u  pcptyptvt]  )  ap  ovvon  n^uv  Koauov  dtvatiCK  T£  vov,Kac  avctyKrj;.  Idem. 
P-  77, 

w  Ttiii  dc  rnf  apernv  ehovacov  uvai  cmrat  to  ttiv  KOKtav  OKOvotov  vnap- 
X^ii'.&e.    AJpinous,  Cap.  30. 

X  £f  aiiToipvovs  pox&npiai.  Max.  Tyr.  Dissert.  25. 

y  TO  Trape-rropcvov  ttj  ovctat  ripov  Kmov.    Hiero.  in  Carm.  Pytha.^. 

z  TOX'g  eKTnopcvopevovs  eii  tov  (itovirOTt^ci,  fravTei  ■nivovaiv,  aXKa  oi  pcv 
-k\clov.ol  &  nrrov.    Tab.  Cebetis. 

a  Empedoclcs  and  Heraclitiis  represented  as  ToXXaicif  oSvpoptvot  xai 
\ot6opovm-£s  Tr)ii  (fivaiv  c's  ai'ajK»)i'  Kai  noXciiov  ovaav,  autyci  St  firicev 
/i1<)<  uXtKtpiirci  iX'^vatw. 


that  all  men  do  more  evil  than  good,^  beginning  even  from 
their  very  childhood. 

And  (as  another  expresses  it')  we  offend  from  certain  in^ 
voluntary  passions,  in  which  the  pravityof  the  soul  is  made 
to  consist :  or  that  we  here  partake  a  certain  mundane  »  Tia- 
ture,  which,  he  says,  is  mixed  of  mind  and  necessity. 

And  even  from  hence  that  virtue  is.voluntary ;  vice  is, 
by  another,  concluded  to  be  involuntary.'^  "  For,"  says  that 
author,  "  who  can  willingly,  in  the  most  lovely  and  most 
noble  part  of  himself,  choose  that  which  is  the  greatest  of 
all  evils  1"  esteeming  vicious  inclination  the  most  repug- 
nant thing  to  liberty,  (as  it  is  indeed  in  the  moral  sense,) 
and  the  greatest  slavery.  Whereupon,  another  inquiring,' 
since  God  doth  nothing  but  what  is  good,  whence  evils 
should  come,  resolves  that  whatsoever  is  good  is  from 
heaven,  but  all  evil  from  our  self-natural  vilentss.  And 
y  another  speaks  of  an  evil  adhering  to  our  being,  and  not 
only  acquired,  but  even  connatural  to  us  ;  yea,  and  this  evil 
is  said  to  be  the  very  death  of  the  soul.  The  sadness  of  the 
common  case  of  man  in  this  respect,  hath  been  therefore 
emblematically  represented  by  a  ^  potion  of  error  and  igno- 
rance, presented  to  every  one  at  their  first  coming  into  the 
v;orld,  and  whereof  it  is  said  all  do  drink,  more  or  less  ;  a 
woman  called  Imposture,  accompanied  by  other  harlots, 
Opinion,  Lust,  Pleasure,  &c.  seizing  and  leading  away 
every  one.  ^  And  hence  are  bitter  complaints  and  accusa- 
tions poured  forth  even  against  nature  itself,  as  being  a  mere 
force  and  war,  and  having  nothing  pure  or  sincere  in  it,  but 
having  its  course  amidst  many  unrighteous  passions ;  3'ea, 
and  its  rise  and  first  production  are  lamented,  as  founded 
in  unrighteousness.  The  discontentful  resentments  where- 
of have  made  some  not  spare  to  censure  our  very  make 
and  frame,  t  the  uniting  of  an  immortal  thing  to  a  mortal 
in  the  composition  of  man,  as  a  kind  of  distortion  of  na- 
ture, that  the  thing  produced,  should  be  made  to  delight  in 
having  parts  so  unnaturally  pulled  and  drawn  together. 

VI.  So  that  some  of  the  ethnick  philosophers  have  been 
so  far  from  denying  a  corruption  and  depravation  of  na- 
ture in  man,  that  they  have  overstrained  the  matter,  and 
thought  vicious  inclination  more  deeply  natural  than  in- 
deed it  is ;  and  so  taxed  and  blamed  nature,  in  the  case 
of  man,  as  to  be  too  liable  to  implied  reflections  even  on 
the  blessed  Author  of  nature  himself":  Whereto  the 
known  principles  of  the  sect  of  the  Stoics  do  too  plainly 
tend,  who  give  in  so  vast  a  catalogue  of  the  diseases  and 
distempers  of  the  mind  of  man ;  taking  every  thing  into 
the  account  that  hath  the  least  of  perturbation  in  it,  with- 
out excepting  so  much  as  mercy  itself,  or  pity  towards 
them  that  suffer  unjustly;  and  yet  seem  to  subject  all 
things  to  fate  and  natural  necessity,  whereby  all  these 
evils  in  the  mind  of  man  would  be  rejected  upon  the  holy 
God,  as  their  original  cause. d  Whence  therefore  some 
that  were  more  sober  have  made  it  their  business  to  vindi- 
cate God  from  so  horrid  an  imputation ;  and  one  of  much 
note  animadverts  upon  the  mistakes  of  such  as  seemed  so 
to  charge  him,  sharply  blaming  them  for  such  an  inti- 
mation; but  more  sharply  (quarrelling  others  in  his  own 
dubious  twilight)  for    the   excuse  they  give   of  it,  viz. 

b  Ttoi  OvrjTOM  avvepxopcvov  adavoTOV.    Plut.  de  .Solert.  Anim.  p.  964. 

c  D  Laert.  L.  7.  But  perhaps  tliey  have  been  somewhat  misunderstood  by 
their  prejudiced  opposers,  or  some  unwary  expression  of  theirs  been  stretched 
beyond  what  was  meant.  For  though  they  reckon  f  Afoj  among  tlie  distempers 
of  the  mind  ;  yet  so  afterivards  they  do  avtXtripoavvr]  too  Whence  il  is  proba- 
ble they  intended  to  place  tXcn^  among  the  evils  of  man's  nature  no  otherwise 
than  as  it  should  mclude  undue  perturSation  in  it,  or  as  it  might  urge  those  who 
are  more  apt  to  be  passionate  upon  such  occasions,  than  just  and  wise,  to  the 
doing  of  unfit  or  unseasonable  things  for  the  atflicled  person's  relief;  than  which 
nothing  is  more  supposable :  which  occasioned  that  famous  general  Agesilaus, 
when  his  sick  friend  importuned  him  witb  tears,  to  stop  the  (then  necessarj') 
march  of  his  army  tor  his  sake,  (looking  sadly  back  upon  him,)  to  say.  wj  \a- 
XtTzov  cs'iv  cXecivKai  fpovciv.  How  hard  is  it  to  be  pitifid  and  wise  •  Phitar. 
Apophtheg;  Lacon.  And  that  aflerwanis  making  aveXerifxofTvvri  vicious  too, 
their  meaning  was,  that  a  calm  and  sedate  will  or  propension  to  relieve  persons 
in  distress  was  the  virtue,  both  the  otber  the  opposite  >Tces.  'Which  seems 
more  likely  than  Menagius's  way  of  salving  the  evavTiotpai'CS,  by  supposing 
avc^cripoovvti  tiere  to  have  been  misprinted  for  cKeripotrn'r},  by  some  very  as- 
suming transcribers,  that  were  willing  rather  to  express  their  own  mind  than 
their  author's.     Obser\'.  in  Locum. 

d  And  though  in  what  follows  they  are  sharply  taxed,  as  laj-mg  all  the 
e\'il3  of  the  world  (moral  as  well  as  other)  upon  God  and  nature,  this 
seems  to  have  proceeded  from  some  lavish  speeches  of  Chrj^ippus,  that 
justly  fell  under  the  reprehension  of  Plutarch's  severer  and  more  sound 
judgment.  Yet  surely  they  did  suppose  another  and  purer  state  of  na- 
ture, out  of  which  man  was  lapsed ;  otherwise,  how  come  they,  wben 
they  assign  the  common  notion  of  vicious  perturbation  or  passion,  to  call 
it  an  irrational  and  {trapa  (pvniv  Kivrfoti]  preternatural  motion?  What 
nature  is  that,  which  it  is  supposed  to  swerve  from  ?  Re.sides  that,  they 
constantly  call  these  diseases  of  the  soul,  therefore  they  understood  them 
not  to  be  its  very  nature  :   for  then  what  were  the  diseased  subject  ?    Nor 


Chap.  IV. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


73 


«That  God  dotli  what  they  attribute  to  him  in  tliis  matter, 
for  the  punishment  of  wicked  men ;  falleging  it  were  a 
grievous  matter  that  God  should  will  and  revenge  the 
same  thing,  that  wickedness  should  both  be,  and  be  pu- 
nished, according  to  the  mind  of  God.  ?Some  do,  with 
great  reverence  of  the  divine  majesty,  confess  the  rise  of 
all  this  evil  to  be  from  man  himself,  viz.  even  that  sort  of 
evil  which  is  called  by  the  name  of  wickedness,  is  said  to 
be  from  an  innate  principle,  which  the  arbitrary  power  of 
a  man's  own  soul  hatcheth  and  fosters,  and  the  fault  is  his 
who  admits  it ;  but  God  is  faultless :  i>  that  God  did  place 
the  soul  over  a  terrene  body,  as  a  charioteer  over  a  cha- 
riot, which  it  might  governor  neglect,  &c. 

So  another  says,  tkat  'whatsoever  things  come  iiito  this 
ICO  rid  from,  God.,  are  good ;  but  evils  proceed  from  a  certain 
ancient  nature,  tf-c.  By  which  what  could  he  mean,  but 
the  hereditary  pravity  which  hath  in  a  long  series  de- 
scended from  depraved  progenitors,  so  as  no  longer  to  be 
a  new  thing ;  but  of  a  forgotten  original,  and  from  of  old 
reigning  in  the  w^orld  1 

They  of  this  famous  sect,  the  Platonists,  seem  often  to 
attribute  vicious  inclination  to  the  soul's  being  united  with 
the  body;  (as  supposing  it  to  have  existed  pure  and  sin- 
less before ;)  yet  even  thej"^  appear  also  not  to  have  thought 
it  impossible  a  human  soul  should  sometime  have  been  in 
an  earthly  body  without  sin.  For  their  renowned  leader 
discourses  at  large  of  a  former  incorrupt  state  of  man  in 
the  body,  (a  golden  age,  as  others  also  call  it,)  and  of  a 
defection  or  apostacy  from  it;  which  state,  though  his 
Eg}^lian  tradition  misinformed  him  about  the  continuance 
of  it,  he  excellently  describes,  (as  also  man's  declining 
from  it,)  telling  us,  that  "  then  God  familiarly  conversed 
with  men,  taking  care  of  them,  as  a  shepherd  of  his  flock ; 
!i  that  he  w-as  chiefly  intent  upon  the  ducture  and  govern- 
ment of  their  minds ;  ithat  (as  he  afterward  says  in  another 
part  of  that  unfinished  discourse)  while  the  godlike  nature 
continued  in  sufficient  vigour  with  them,  they  were  obedient 
10  laws,  and  behaved  themselves  friendly  towards  that 
'^divine  thing  that  was  akin  to  them.  Then  they  possessed 
thoughts  that  were  true,  and  altogether  great ;  using  meek- 
ness and  prudence  in  reference  to  their  own  conditions 
and  one  another  ;  that  they  disregarded  all  things  in  com- 
parison of  virtue.  They  easily  bore  a  prosperous  condi- 
tion, esteeming  all  outward  things  little.  They  were  not 
intoxicated  or  drunken  with  sensual  delights;  but  sober 
and  quick-sighted,  and  all  things  increased  upon  them 
through  their  mutual  love  and  virtue.  But  they  growing 
at  length  into  a  too  great  esteem  and  love  of  terrene  things 
— n  and  that  participation  which  they  had  of  God  decaying, 
(whereas  all  was  well  while  the  Divine  nature  remained 
with  them,)  and  being  variously  intermingled  with  much 
deadly  » evil,  and  a  kind  of  human  custom  or  course  of 
living,"  as  elsewhere  he  so  expresses  sinful  corruption, 
"prevailing  among  them,  and  they  not  able  to  bear  a  pros- 
perous condition,  came  to  shame,  and  ruin  with  it ;  having 
lost  the  loveliest  of  their  most  precious  things."  Agreeably 
whereto,  another,  discoursing  of  the  nature  and  original 
of  evil,  places  it  in  our  being  plunged  and  sunk  into  mat- 
ter and  corporeity :  and  commenting  upon  a  noted  Ppassage 
of  his  master,  viz.  "  That  our  recovery  must  be  by  a 
speedy  flight  to  God,"  &c.  says,  that  this  fight  is  not  to  de- 
part from  the  earth,  'ibut  that  ice  become,  even  while  we  are 
on  earth,  righteous,  a?id  holy,  and  wise. 

Therefore  also  have  we  with  this  sort  of  men,  so  fre- 
quent discourses  of  the  purgative  virtues,  "^  which  suppose 
a  lapse  into  great  impurities;  yet  not  so  inseparable  from 
oar  natures,  but  that  by  divine  help  ^which  thej-  also 
sometimes  speak  of  as  necessary)  a  cure  and  redress  may 
be  wrought. 

VII.  Nor,  if  we  consider,  can  it  be  so  much  as  imagin- 
able to  us,  that  the  present  state  of  man  is  his  primitive 

could  it  agree  with  that  known  dogma  of  tlieirs,  that  virtue  is  <5if5af  rov  tl, 
a  ttiine  to  be  taiietit,  if  tlicy  should  suppose  ^^ce  in  tliat  sense  natural.  And 
indeed,  that  Plutarch  entitles  that  book  he  hath  against  them,  Tupt  ^oiKutv 
evavTjuijia,  arsues.  they  intended  not  the  gross  things  he  refutes,  for  no  man 
intends  contradiction  to  himself.  And  since  no  man  can  hold  both  parts  of  a 
contradiction,  it  Li  candid  to  snppose  they  would  have  chose  rather,  to  let  go 
the  worserparf. 
e  A>Aa  ficv  tov  Occv  KoXa^eiv  dtrjat  ttiv  xaKiav  Kai  no\\a  voteiv  eiri  ko. 

f'Ei^Ti  ficv  ovf  TOVTO  iiivov  re  Kai  yii/tadat  rnv  xaxtav  Kai  Ko\a!^sadat 
Kara  tov  rov^wi  \oyov.    Plular.  de  Rcpugnan.  Stoiconim. 
tafncnv  rt\v  avToipvr),  if  'ifvxii  c^ovata  Kt/taKCi   n  Kai  rt'Kcaipopei   rji 


state,  or  that  he  is  now  such  as  he  was  at  first  made.  For 
neither  is  it  conceivable,  the  blessed  God  should  have 
made  a  creature  w-ith  an  aversion  to  the  only  imjKjrtant 
ends,  whereof  it  is  naturally  capable;  or,  particularly, 
that  he  created  man  with  a  disaffection  to  himself;  or  that 
ever  he  at  first  designed  a  being  of  so  high  excellency  as 
the  spirit  of  man,  to  drudge  so  meanly,  and  be  so  basely 
servile  to  terrene  inclinations  ;  or,  that  since  there  are 
manifestly  powers  in  him  of  a  superior  and  inferior  sort 
and  order,  the  meaner  should  have  been,  by  original  in.sti- 
tution,  framed  to  command,  and  the  more  noble  and  ex- 
cellent, only  to  obey  and  serve;  as  now,  every  one  that 
observes  may  see  the  common  case  with  man  is.  Axid 
how  far  he  is  sw^erved  from  what  he  wa-s,  is  easily  conjec- 
turable,  bj'  comparing  him  with  the  measures  which  show 
what  he  should  be.  For  it  cannot  be  conceived  for  what 
end  laws  were  ever  given  him,  if,  at  least,  we  allow  them 
not  the  measures  of  his  primitive  capacity,  or  deny  him 
ever  to  have  been  in  a  possibilit3'^  to  obe}'.  Could  they  be 
intended  for  his  government,  if  conformity  to  them  were 
against  or  above  his  nature  1  or  were  the)'  only  for  his 
condemnation  "?  or  for  that,  if  he  was  never  capable  of 
obeying  them  1  How  inconsistent  were  it  with  the  good- 
ness of  the  blessed  God,  that  the  condemnation  of  bis 
creatures  should  be  the  first  design  of  his  giving  them 
laws ;  and  with  his  justice,  to  make  his  laws  the  rule  of 
punishment,  to  whom  they  could  never  be  the  rule  of 
obedience  and  duly;  or  with  his  wisdom,  to  frame  a  sys- 
tem and  body  of  laws,  that  should  never  serve  for  either 
purpose,  and  so  be  upon  the  w-hole  useful  for  nothing! 
The  common  reason  of  mankind  teacheth  us,  to  estimate 
the  wisdom  and  equity  of  lawgivers,  by  the  suitableness 
of  their  constitutions  to  the  genius  and  temper  of  the 
people  for  w-hom  they  are  made ;  and  we  cojumonly 
reckon  nothing  can  more  slur  and  expose  government,  thaa 
the  imposing  of  constitutions  most  probably  impracticable, 
and  which  are  never  likely  to  obtain.  How^  much  more 
incongruous  must  it  be  esteemed  to  enjoin  such  as  never 
possibly  could !  Prudent  legislators,  and  studious  of  the 
common  good,  would  be  shy  to  impose  upon  men  under 
their  power,  against  their  genius  and  common  usages, 
neither  alterable  easily,  nor  to  an}' advantage.  Much  more 
absurd  were  it,  with  great  soleninity  and  weighty  sanc- 
tions to  enact  statutes  for  brute  creatures  !  And  wherein 
were  it  more  to  purpose  to  prescribe  unto  men  strict  rules 
of  piety  and  virtue,  than  to  beasts  or  trees,  if  the  former 
had  not  been  capable  of  observing  them  as  the  latter  were 
not  1  We  insist  not  on  the  written  precepts  in  the  sacred 
volume,  (where  we  have  also  the  history  of  man's  creation 
and  fall,)  but  let  the  law  be  considered  which  is  written 
in  men^s  hearts;  the  vSfios  ^rj^novpyiKof,  the  ru^i?  ewo^og,  or 
the  lex  nata,^  (in  the  ethnick  language.)  tvhich  the  eternal, 
laiogiving  mind  hath  created  in  mir  souls.  And  how  evi- 
dentl}'  doth  that  law  convince,  that  we  neither  are  nor  do 
what  we  should  !  How  gross  and  numerous  deformities 
do  we  daily  behold  by  that  shattered  and  broken  glass! 
how  many  things  which  we  disapprove,  or  certainly  would, 
if  we  discussed  the  matter  with  ourselves !  How  "frequent 
buffetings  are  many,  when  the}'  reilecT,  constrained  to 
suffer  at  their  own  hands ;  even  w'herein  (not  having  an- 
other law)  they  are  only  "  a  law  to  themselves,'"  Rom.  ii. 
and  have  only  their  own  thoughts,  either  their  excusers,  or 
accusers!  And  what  doth  that  signify,  but  a  lapse  and 
recess  from  their  original  slate  1  the  broken  imperfect  me- 
morials whereof,  are  a  standing  testimony  against  their 
present  course;  their  notions  of  right  and  wrong,  comely 
and  uncomely,  remonstrating  against  their  vicious  inclina- 
tions and  ways.  For  would  they  ever  reprove  themselves 
for  what  was  not  possible  to  be  otherwise'?  Or  was  man 
created  a  mere  piece  of  self-contradiction ;  or  with  a  nature 
made  up  of  repugnancies,   and  perpetually  at  war  with 

ovn/ia  ftoxdnp'"  avTOV  tov  cXofievov  airiaf  Qcos  aiairiof.  Ma.v.  Tjr. 
ubi  supra. 

h  As  he  there  proceeds. 

i  oaa  TTapa  dcovayada.  rait  xaxa  CKrrii  apxa'as  (bvoctic.  Plot  Enuead. 
1.  lib.  8.  p.  77. 

kTheastet.  \  ri  tov  Qzov  (pvaii  aVTOiit^ripKU. 

m  T/) )?  TO  (Ti'y)  fi'Cf  Sttov.  n  v  tov  deov  ttotpa. 

o  TToAXwi  roll  OvrtTWt.  p  In  Thestet. 

q  ov  TO  CK  yrj  a-zcXBctv  aWa,  &c.    Plot.  Enne.  1.  lib  1. 

r  Marin  Procl. 

s  TiivTao  voiioacTttivovi  itaxieouodsTa  rati  \pv\ais.  Hierocl.  p.  19  and 
210. 


74 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  II. 


itself?  This  I  should  do,  but  that  which  is  clean  contrary 
I  have  a  mind  to.  Were  these  ever  like  to  be  impressions, 
both  signed  upon  him  by  the  same  hand  1  Nothing  is 
plainer,  therefore,  than  that  he  is  corrupted  from  his  pj'i- 
mitive  integrity,  and  become  a  depraved  and  a  degenerate 
thing. 

VIII.  2.  We  go  on  then,  in  the  next  place,  to  show, — 
That  by  this  degeneracy,  the  temple  of  the  living  God 
among  men  became  waste  and  desolate:  viz.  hoih  unin- 
habitable or  unfit  for  his  blessed  presence  ;  and,  thereupon, 
deserted  and  forsaken  of  it.  And  (because  in  breaches 
and  disagreements  man  hath  tlie  first  hand  and  part)  we 
shall  therefore  treat,  First,  Of  the  unaptne.ss  of  man,  in  his 
state  of  apostacy,  to  entertain  the  divine  presence,  or  be 
any  longer  God's  temple ;  Second,  Of  the  blessed  God's 
absenting  himself,  and  estrangement  from  him  hereupon. 

1.  That  the  spirit  of  man,  by  his  having  apostatized,  be- 
came unft  to  answer  the  purposes  of  a  temple,  will  too 
plainly  appear,  by  considering  the  nature  of  that  apostacy  ; 
which,  what  was  it  but  a  severing  himself  from  God ;  a 
recess  and  separation  1  Not  in  respect  of  place,  (which 
was  impossible,)  but  the  temper  of  his  mind  and  spirit ;  or 
not  by  a  local  removal,  but  by  unsuitableness  and  disaf- 
fection, departing  in  heart  from  the  living  God.  'Tis  true 
indeed,  that  by  this  his  revolt,  he  became  indisposed  to  all 
other  converse  which  belonged  to  him  as  a  creature  intel- 
ligent and  virtuous,  but  chiefly  to  divine :  the  blessed  God 
being  the  chief  term  of  this  defection  and  revolt.  For 
man,  by  his  original  rectitude,  was  principally  determined 
towards  God:  and  by  the  same  due  bent  and  frame  of 
spirit  by  which  he  stood  rightly  postured  towards  him,  he 
was  in  a  right  disposition  to  everything  besides  wherewith 
he  had  any  concern.  And  adhering  to  him  as  his  centre 
and  prime  object,  he  kept  his  due  order  towards  all  other 
things :  whence  by  forcing  and  relaxing  the  bonds  that 
held  him  united  to  God,  and  by  changing  his  posture 
towards  him,  he  came  to  stand  right  no  way.  Turning  to 
him  tlie  back,  and  not  the  face,  all  things  are  inverted  to 
him.  He  is  now  become  most  directly  opposite  to  God, 
and  unduly  disposed  towards  other  things  only  by  means 
of  that  opposition.  As  then  he  is  unfit  for  every  other 
good  use,  so  most  of  all  for  that  of  a  temple ;  and  that 
upon  both  the  above-mentioned  accounts,  as  being  first 
unsuitable  to  the  blessed  God,  and  then  thereupon  disaf- 
fected. 

Ist.  Man  was  become  most  unsuitable  to  him ;  the  di- 
vine image  (which  where  should  it  be  but  in  his  temple) 
being  now  defaced  and  torn  down.  We  speak  not  now  of 
the  natural  image  of  God  in  man,  or  the  representation 
the  soul  of  man  hath  of  its  Maker  in  the  spiritual,  intelli- 
gent, vital,  and  immortal  nature  thereof,  which  image  we 
know  cannot  be  lost ;  but  its  resemblance  of  him  in  the 
excellences  which  appear  to  be  lost,  and  which  were  his 
duty,  a  dehitum  i?iesse,  and  could  not  be  lost  but  by  his 
own  great  default.  And  those  are  both  such  as  wherein 
the  soul  of  man  did  imitate  and  resemble  God,  as  know- 
ledge, purity,  justice,  benignity,  &c.  and  such  as  wherein 
though  it  could  not  imitate  him,  yet  was  to  bear  itself 
correspondently  towards  him ;  as  he  being  the  absolute 
Sovereign,  to  be  subject  to  him,  obey  and  serve  him  :  and 
he  being  the  all-sufficient  Good,  to  trust  in  him,  depend 
upon  him,  know,  love,  and  delight  in  him,  unite  with 
him,  and  expect  blessedness  only  in  and  from  him.  How 
unlike  and  disagreeable  to  God  in  all  these  respects  is 
apostate  man  !  That  whereas  the  notion  given  us  of  God, 
is,  that  he  is  Light,  and  with  him  is  no  darkness  at  all ; 
(1  John  i.)  it  is  said  of  such  as  have  been  involved  in  the 
common  apostacy,  in  reference  to  that  their  former  state, 
"  Ye  were  darkness ;"  as  if  that  were  the  fittest  and  truest 
account  that  could  be  given  of  this  revolted  creature :  not 
that  he  is  in  darkness,  or  there  is  much  darkness  in  him, 
but,  "  He  is  darkness,"  Ephes.  v.  He  and  darkness  may 
define  one  another — That  is  he  ;  and  he  is  that.  A  dismal 
horrid  cloud  hath  inwrapped  his  soul,  that  resists  and 
yields  not  easily  to  the  most  piercing  beams,  excludes 
light,  wheresoever  it  would  insinuate  itself  This  hath 
made  the  soul  of  man  a  most  unmeet  receptacle  for  the 
divine  presence,  and  more  like  a  dungeon  than  a  temple. 
And  as  he  is  now  sunk  into  carnality,  and  a  low,  abject, 
earthly  spirit,  how  unfit  is  he  for  divine  converse !     How 


unapt  to  savour  the  things  of  God  !  How  unlike  the 
Father  of  Spirits !  And  whereas  he  was  of  a  middle  na- 
ture, partaking  somewhat  of  the  angelical,  somewhat  of 
the  animal  life,  how  is  he  swallowed  up  of  the  latter,  and 
become  like  the  beasts  that  peri.sh  ;  as  the  horse  and  mule 
without  understanding,  as  the  dog  and  swine  both  for 
fierceness  and  impurity ;  as  the  one  is  both  apt  to  bite  and 
devour,  and  return  to  his  own  vomit,  and  the  other  both 
to  rend  such  as  stand  in  his  way,  and  wallow  in  the  mire. 
We  might  add  the  sundry  other  Scripture  resemblances 
of  wolves,  bears,  lions,  serpents,  adders,  vipers,  &c.  where- 
by many  brutes  seem  to  meet  in  one  man ;  and  to  have 
made  a  collection,  and  contributed  their  worst  qualities, 
and  all  the  venom  of  their  natures,  to  the  making  up  of 
one  mischievous  composition  in  him.  So  that  instead  of 
a  temple,  he  is  a  cage  of  every  unclean  and  hurtful  thing  : 
he  is,  in  short,  of  a  reprobate  mind,  full  of  all  unrighteous- 
ness, fornication,  wickedness,  covetousness,  maliciousness, 
envy,  murder,  debate,  deceit,  malignity,  &c.  How  repug- 
nant, in  all  respects,  to  the  holy,  pure,  benign,  merciful 
nature  of  God  !  How  remote  from  the  imitation  of  his 
Maker,  wherein  he  hath  offered  himself  as  his  most 
imitable  pattern !  And  wherein  he  is  not  imitable,  but 
requires  a  proportionable  and  correspondent  deportment 
or  conformity  ;  as  by  trust  to  his  all-sufiiciency,  by  subjec- 
tion to  his  sovereign  power  and  government.  How  dismal 
is  the  case,  and  how  horrid  the  effects,  of  the  apostacy  in 
these  regards !  How  preposterous  and  perverse  are  his 
dispositions  and  the  course  he  hath  run  !  For  wherein  it 
was  permitted  to  him  to  imitate  and  affect  likeness  to  a 
Deity ;  where  he  was  put  under  no  restraints,  and  his 
highest  aspirings  had  been  not  only  innocent,  but  most 
worthy  of  praise,  (as  to  imitate  God  in  wisdom,  righteou.s- 
ness,  sincerity,  goodness,  purity,  &c.)  here  nothing  would 
please  but  utmost  dissimilitude,  and  to  be  as  unlike  God 
as  he  could  devise.  But  in  those  things  that  were  within 
the  enclosure,  and  appropriate  most  peculiarly  to  the  God- 
head ;  to  be  the  "first  and  the  last,  the  Alpha  and  Omega  ; 
the  only  one  on  whom  ail  must  depend,  and  to  whom  all 
must  bersubject  and  obey  :  these  sacred  regalia,  the  highest 
rights  and  flowers  of  the  eternal  crown,  these  are  thought 
fine  things,  and  beheld  with  a  libidinous  devouring  eye, 
caught  at  by  a  profane  sacrilegious  hand.  Nothing  would 
satisfy  but  to  be  Godlike  in  this  most  disallowed  and  im- 
possible sense.  Man,  when  he  hath  reduced  himself  to 
the  lowest  pitch  of  vileness,  misery,  and  penury,  now  will 
be  self-sufficient ;  and  when  he  is  become  the  most  abject 
slave  to  ignominious  lusts  and  passions,  now  he  will  be 
supreme :  that  is,  having  made  himself  viler  than  the 
meanest  creature,  and  worse  than  nothing,  he  vnW  be  a 
god,  even  his  own,  a  god  to  himself  Having  severed 
and  cut  himself  off  from  God,  he  will  supply  the  room, 
and  live  only  within  himself:  be  to  himself  what  God  was, 
and  should  ever  be.  He  now  moves  wholly  in  his  own 
sphere,  disjoined  from  that  of  the  whole  world,  and  is  his 
own  centre.  All  he  does  is  from  himself,  and  for  himself. 
Thus  is  the  true  image  of  God  torn  down  from  his  own 
temple,  and  that  alienated,  and  become  the  temple  of  a 
false  god,  dedicate  to  that  abominable  idol,  self. 

IX.  2nd.  Whence  it  comes  to  pass,  that  man  is  most  dis- 
affected to  God,  and  full  of  enmity.  So  Scripture  testifies 
concerning  the  carnal  mind,  Rom.  viii.  8.  And  whom  it 
had  before  represented  (ch.  ii.)  full  of  all  malignity,  it 
afterwards  .speaks  of  as  directing  it  (most  horrid  to  think) 
against  this  blessed  object;  "Haters  of  God,  despiteful," 
&c.  Nor  is  any  thing  more  natural  ;  for,  in  part,  the  con- 
trariety of  their  nature  to  his,  more  immediately  begets  this 
enmity,  which  always  rises  out  of  dissimilitude ;  and  partly 
it  is  fomented  and  increased  to  a  great  degree,  by  a  secret 
consciousness  of  that  dissimilitude,  and  the  misgivings  ot 
their  own  guilty  fears  thereupon ;  which  must  tell  them, 
whensoever  they  have  so  much  communication  with  them- 
selves, that  they  are  unlike,  and  cannot  but  be  impleasing 
to  him;  and  this  infers  some  kind  of  dread;  whence  (as 
hath  been  commonly  observed)  the  passage  is  short  and 
easy  unto  hatred.  And  though  the  more  positive  workings 
of  this  enmity  do  not  (perhaps  with  the  most)  so  ordinarily 
discover  themselves ;  and  they  do  not  see  or  suspect  that 
they  hate  him,  while  they  are  not  urged  to  self-reflection ; 
and  when  they  are  hardly  admit  a  conviction  that  they  do: 


Chap.  IV. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


75 


yet  the  matter  carries  its  ovra  evidence  with  it,  and  would 
soon  be  put  beyond  a  question,  if  men  were  Avilling  to 
understand  the  truth  of  their  own  case.  For  whence  else 
do  they  so  slowly  entertain  the  knowled°:e  of  God,  when 
the  whole  earth  is  full  of  his  glory"?     When  so  manifest 

Srints  and  footsteps  of  his  wisdom,  power,  and  goodness, 
o  offer  themselves  to  view  in  every  creature,  whence  can 
it  be,  but  that  they  like  not  to  retain  him  in  their  know- 
ledge ■?  Rom.  i.  And  that  their  very  hearts  say  to  him, 
Depart  from  us,  we  desire  not  the  knowledge  of  thy  ways  ? 
Job  xxi.  Why  is  so  bright  a  light  not  observed,  but  that 
it  shines  amidst  a  malignant  darkness,  that,  resisting,  com- 
prehends it  not  1  Why  are  the  thoughts  of  God  so  un- 
pleasant to  men,  and  unfrequent,  that  when  one  would 
suppose  no  thoughts  should  be  so  obvious,  none  so  wel- 
come, yet  it  is  become  the  character  of  an  unrenewed  man 
to  forget  God,  (Psal.  ix.)  or  not  to  have  him  in  ail  his 
thoughts  1  Psal.  x.  Why  do  men  decline  his  acquaint- 
ance, live  volimtary  strangers  to  him  all  their  days,  and  as 
without  him  in  the  world  1  Ephes.  ii.  Why  are  men  so 
averse  to  trust  him,  and  turn  to  him,  even  upon  so  mighty 
assurances  1  What  makes  them  shy  to  take  his  word, 
but  rather  count  him  a  liar,  though  they  know  it  incon- 
sistent with  his  nature ;  and  can  form  no  notion  of  God, 
without  including  this  conception  therein,  that  he  cannot 
lie;  when  as  yet  they  can  ordinarily  trust  one  another, 
though  there  be  so  much  colour  to  say,  "  All  men  are 
liars '?"  Why  do  they  resist  his  authority,  against  which 
they  carmot  dispute,  and  disobey  his  commands,  unto 
which  they  cannot  devise  to  frame  an  exception  1  What, 
but  the  spirit  of  enmity,  can  make  them  regret  so  easy  a 
yoke,  reject  so  light  a  burthen,  shun  and  tly  off  froni  so 
peaceful  and  pleasant  paths;  yea,  and  take  ways  that  so 
manifestly  take  hold  of  hell,  and  lead  down  to  the  cham- 
bers of  death,  rather  choosing  to  perish  than  obey  1  Is  not 
this  the  very  height  of  enmity  1  What  further  proof  would 
we  seek  of  a  disaffected  and  implacable  heart  1  Yet  to  all 
this,  we  may  cast  in  that  fearful  addition,  their  saying  in 
their  heart.  No  God ;  (Ps.  xiv.)  q.  d.  O  that  there  were 
none !  This  is  enmity,  not  only  to  the  highest  pitch  of 
wickedness,  (to  wish  their  common  Parent  extinct,  the 
Author  of  their  being,')  but  even  unto  madness  itself  For 
in  the  forgetful  heat  of  this  transport,  it  is  not  thought  on 
that  they  wish  the  most  absolute  impossibility,  and  that, 
if  it  were  possible,  they  wish,  with  his,  the  extinction  of 
their  owti,  and  of  all  being;  and  that  the  sense  of  their 
hearts,  put  into  words,  would  amount  to  no  less  than  a  dire- 
ful and  most  horrid  execration  and  curse  upon  God,  and 
the  whole  creation  of  God  at  once !  as  if  by  the  blasphemy 
of  their  poisonous  breath,  they  would  ■gather  all  nature, 
blast  the  whole  universe  of  being,  and  make  it  fade,  lan- 
guish, and  drop  into  nothing.  This  is  to  set  their  mouth 
against  heaven  and  earth,  themselves,  and  all  things  at 
once,  as  if  they  thought  their  feeble  breath  should  over- 
power the  omnipotent  word,  shake  and  shiver  the  adaman- 
tine pillars  of  heaven  and  earth,  and  the  almighty  Jiat  be 
defeated  by  their  nay  ;  striking  at  the  root  of  all !  So  fitly 
is  it  said.  The  fool  hath  in  his  heart  muttered  thus !  Nor 
are  there  few  such  fools :  but  this  is  plainly  given  us  as 
the  common  character  of  apostate  man,  the  whole  re- 
volted race  ;  of  whom  it  is  said  in  very  general  terms, 
"  They  are  all  gone  back,  there  is  none  that  doeth  good." 
This  is  their  sense,  one  and  all ;  i.  e.  comparatively  ;  and 
the  true  state  of  the  case  being  laid  before  them,  it  is  more 
their  temper  and  sense  to  say  no  God,  than  to  repent,  and 
turn  to  him.  What  mad  enmity  is  this !  Nor  can  we  de- 
vise into  what  else  to  resolve  it. 

This  enmity,  indeed,  more  plainly  shows  itself  where 
the  Divine  glory  (especially  that  of  his  grace,  and  good- 
will towards  men,  a  thing  not  less  evident,  than  strange) 
more  brightly  shines :  yet  there  are  so  manifest  appear- 
ances of  it  every  where,  and  he  hath  so  little  left  himself 
"  without  witness"  unto  any,  that  the  universal  strange- 
ness of  men  towards  him  apparently  owes  itself  more  to 
enmity  than  ignorance  ;  and  even  where  there  is  much 
darkness,  there  is  more  ill-will.  For  their  ignorance  by 
which  they  are  alienated  from  fhe  life  of  God,  is  called 
blindness  of  heart;  i.  e.  voluntary,  affected  blindness, 
Er>h.  iv.  18.  It  can  be  imputed  to  nothing  else,  that  they 
who  ha\'e  Grod  so  near  to  every  one  of  them,  who  live  and 


move,  and  have  their  being  in  him,  do  not  }'et  seek  after 
him,  and  labour  to  feel  and  find  him  out;  i.  e.  that  they 
can  miss  of  God  so  nigh  at  hand,  when  they  have  even, 
palpable  demonstrations  of  his  nearness,  and  kind  propen- 
sions  towards  ihem.  Now  this  being  the  ca.se,  whatever 
this  degenerate  vile  creature  might  serve  for  else,  he  was 
plainly  most  unfit  for  the  use  of  a  temple,  or  to  be  the 
dwelling-place  of  God. 

2.  Nor  can  it  now  be  a  wonder  that  the  divine  presence 
should  be  hereupon  withdrawn ;  that  the  blessed  God  ab- 
sents himself,  and  Ls  become  a  stranger  to  this  his  once 
beloved  mansion.  We  shall  here  lake  notice  how  appa- 
rent it  is — 1.  That  he  hath  done  so, — 2.  That  he  was  most 
highly  justifiable  herein. 

And,  first.  That  he  hath  withdraxni  himself,  and  left 
tliis  his  temple  desolate,  we  have  many  sad  and  plain 
proofs  before  us.  The  stately  ruins  are  visible  to  every 
eye,  that  bear  in  their  front  (yet  extant)  this  doleful  inscrip- 
tion— fiere  606  once  iiwlt.  Enough  appears  of  the  admi- 
rable frame  and  structure  of  the  soul  of  man,  to  show  the 
divine  presence  did  sometimes  reside  in  it ;  more  than 
enough  of  vicious  deformity,  to  proclaim  he  is  now  retired 
and  gone.  The  lamps  are  extinct,  the  altar  overturned; 
the  light  and  love  are  now  vanished,  which  did  the  one 
shine  with  so  heavenly  brightness,  the  other  burn  with  so 
pious  fervour;  the  golden  candlestick  is  displaced,  and 
thrown  away  as  a  useless  thing,  to  make  room  for  the 
throne  of  the  prince  of  darkness ;  the  sacred  incense,  which 
sent  rolling  up  in  clouds  its  rich  perfumes,  is  exchanged 
for  a  poisonous,  hellish  vapour,  and  here  is,  "  instead  of  a 
sweet  savour,  a  stench."  The  comely  order  of  this  house 
is  turned  all  into  confusion;  "the  beauties  of  holiness" 
into  noisome  impurities  ;  the  "  house  of  prayer  to  a  den 
of  thieves,"  and  that  the  worst  and  most  horrid  kind ;  for 
every  lust  is  a  thief,  and  every  theft  sacrilege:  continual 
rapine  and  robbery  is  committed  upon  holy  "things.  The 
noble  powers  which  were  designed  and  dedicated  to  divine 
contemplation  and  delight,  are  alienated  to  tlie  service  of 
the  most  despicable  idols,  and  employed  unto  vilest  intu- 
itions and  embraces  ;  to  behold  and  admire  lying  vanities, 
to  indulge  and  cherish  lust  and  wickedness."  What  have 
not  the  enemies  done  wickedly  in  the  sanctuary  1  How 
have  they  broken  do^^'n  the  carved  work  thereof,  and  that 
too  with  axes  and  hammers,  the  noise  whereof  was  not  to 
be  heard  in  building,  much  less  in  the  demolishing  this 
sacred  frame  !  Looli  upon  the  fragments  of  that  curious 
sculpture  which  once  adorned  the  palace  of  that  great 
king;  the  relics  of  common  notions ;  the  lively  prints  of 
some  undefaced  truth;  the  fair  ideas  of  things;  the  yet 
legible  precepts  that  relate  to  practice.  Behold  !  with 
what  accuracy  the  broken  pieces  show  these  to  have  been 
engraven  by  the  finger  of  God,  and  how  they  now  lie  torn 
and  scattered,  one  in  this  dark  corner,  another  in  that, 
buried  in  heaps  of  dirt  and  rubbish !  There  is  not  now  a 
system,  an  entire  table  of  coherent  truths  to  be  found,  or 
a  frame  of  holiness,  but  some  shivered  parcels.  And  if 
any,  with  great  toil  and  labour,  apply  themselves  to  draw 
out  here  one  piece,  and  there  another,  and  set  them  to<re- 
ther,  they  serve  rather  to  show  how  exquisite  the  divine 
workmanship  was  in  the  original  composition,  than  for 
present  use  to  the  excellent  purposes  for  which  the  whole 
was  first  designed.  Some  pieces  agree,  and  own  one  an- 
other; but  how  soon  are  our  inquiries  and  endeavours 
non-plussed  and  superseded  !  How  many  attempts  have 
been  made,  since  that  fearful  fall  and  ruin  of  this  fabric, 
to  compose  again  the  truths  of  so  many  several  kinds  into 
their  distinct  orders,  and  make  up  frames  of  science,  or 
useful  knowledge ;  and  after  so  many  ages,  nothing  is 
finished  in  any  one  kind !  Sometimes  truths  are  mis- 
placed, and  what  belongs  to  one  kind  is  transferred  to 
another,  where  it  will  not  fitly  match:  sometimes  false- 
hood inserted,  which  shatters  or  disturbs  the  whole  frame. 
And  what  is  with  much  fruitless  pains  done  by  one  hand, 
is  dashed  in  pieces  by  another ;  and  it  is  the  work  of  a 
following  age  to  sweep  awa}''  the  fine-spun  cobwebs  of  a 
former.  And  those  truths  which  are  of  greatest  use, 
though  not  most  out  of  sight,  are  least  regarded :  their 
tendency  and  design  are  overlooked ;  or  they  are  so  loos- 
ened aiid  torn  off,  that  they  cannot  be  -nTought  in.  .so  as 
to  take  hold  of  the  soul,  but  hover  as  faint  inctfectua,  no- 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  II. 


tions,  that  signify  nothing.  Its  very  fundamental  powers 
are  shaken  and  disjointed,  and  their  order  towards  one  an- 
other confounded  and  brolien  :  so  that  what  is  judged  con- 
siderable is  not  considered,  what  is  recommended  as  eligible 
and  lovely  is  not  loved  and  chosen.  Yea,  the  truth  which 
is  after  godliness  is  not  so  much  disbelieved,  as  hated, 
held  in  unrigliteousness  ;  and  shines  as  too  feeble  a  light 
in  that  malignant  darkness  which  comprehends  it  not. 
You  come  amidst  all  this  confusion,  as  into  the  ruined 
palace  of  some  great  prince,  in  which  you  see  here  the 
fragments  of  a  noble  pillar,  there  the  shattered  pieces  of 
some  curious  imagery,  and  all  lying  neglected  and  useless 
among  heaps  of  dirt.  He  that  invites  you  to  take  a  view 
of  the  soul  of  man,  gives  you  but  such  another  prospect, 
and  doth  but  say  to  you,—-'  Behold  the  desolation ;"  all 
things  rude  and  waste.  So  that  should  there  be  any  pre- 
tence to  tne  Divine  presence,  it  might  be  said.  If  God  be 
here,  why  is  it  thus  'i.  The  faded  glory,  the  darkness,  the 
disorder,  the  impurity,  the  decayed  state  in  all  respects  of 
this  temple,  too  plainly  show  the  great  inhabitant  is  gone. 
X.  2.  And  what  was  so  manifest  a  sign  of  God's  ab- 
sence, was  also  a  most  righteous  cause :  for  who  have 
committed  these  great  wastes,  and  made  this  temple  un- 
inhabitable, but  men  themselves  f  And  what  could  be 
more  injurious  to  the  holy  God,  than  to  invade  and  pro- 
fane his  temple  1  Or  for  what  could  we  suppose  him  to 
show  more  jealousy  and  concern  1  Whoever  were  a  God, 
one  would  expect  he  should  plead  for  himself,  when  men 
have  cast  down  his  altar.  No  words  can  express  the 
greatness  of  the  indignity  !  For  do  but  take  the  following 
state  of  the  case,  thus :  Man  was  his  own  creature,  raised 
out  of  nothing  by  his  mighty  and  most  arbitrary  hand ;  it 
was  in  his  power  and  choice,  whether  ever  he  should  have 
beinjj,  any,  or  none,  another,  or  this,  of  so  noble  an  order 
and  kind.  The  designation  was  most  apt,  of  so  excellent 
a  creature  to  this  office  and  use,  to  be  immediately  sacred 
to  himself,  and  his  own  converse ;  his  temple  and  habi- 
tation, the  mansion  and  residence  of  his  presence  and  in- 
dwelling glory  !  There  was  nothing  whereto  he  was  herein 
designed,  whereof  his  nature  was  not  capable.  His  soul 
was,  after  the  required  manner,  receptive  of  a  deity ;  its 
powers  were  competent  to  their  appointed  work  and  em- 
ployment ;  it  could  entertain  God  by  knowledge  and  con- 
templation of  his  glorious  excellences,  by  reverence  and 
love,  by  adoration  and  praise.  This  was  the  highest  kind 
of  dignity  whereto  created  nature  could  be  raised,  the  most 
honourable  state.  How  high  and  quick  an  advance  !  This 
moment,  nothing,  the  next,  a.  being  capable  and  full  of 
God! 

It  was  a  most  delectable  and  pleasant  state,  to  be  sepa- 
rated to  the  entertainment  of  the  Divine  presence  ;  that  as 
soon  as  man  could  first  open  his  eyes,  and  behold  the  light 
and  glory  of  this  new-made  world,  the  great  Lord  and 
Author  of  it  should  present  himself,  and  say,  "Thou 
shalt  be  mine."  How  grateful  a  welcome  into  being ! 
"  Thee,  above  all  my  works,  which  thou  beholdest,  I  choose 
out  for  myself  Thine  employment  shall  be  no  laborious, 
painful  drudgery  ;  unless  it  can  be  painful  to  receive  the 
large  communications  of  immense  goodness,  light,  life,  and 
love,  that  shall,  of  their  own  accord,  be  perpetually  flowing 
in  upon  thee  !  Whatsoever  thou  espiest  besides,  that  is 
even  most  excellent  and  pleasant  to  thy  sense,  is  yet  infe- 
rior to  thee,  and  insufficient  for  thy  satisfaction  and  highest 
delight,  and  but  the  faint  shadow  of  that  substantial  ful- 
ness, which  I  myself  will  be  unto  thee." 

There  was,  in  all  this,  the  freest  and  most  condescending 
vouchsafement ;  no  necessity  could  urge  the  self-sufficient 
Good  to  affect  union  and  familiarity  with  its  own  creature. 
Man's  alienation  of  himself  from  God,  was  as  entirely 
voluntary,  nothing  could  force  him  to  it ;  he  could  have 
no  inducement,  which  it  was  not  easy  to  resist ;  heaven 
and  earth  could  not  afford  the  matter  of  a  regardable 
temptation,  to  withdraw  him  from  what  did  so  infinitely 
excel.  But  how  mean  things  have  become  the  tempting 
and  prevailing  objects  !  the  momentary  relishes  of  a  merely 
sensual  delight,  that  might  have  been  had  innocent  and 

t  Sencc.  de  Tranquill. 


pure,  without  breaking  the  enclosure.    Ravenous  appetite, 
lust  after  forbidden  pleasure,  is  impatient  of  restraint : 
reason,  that  should  have  restrained  it,  resigns  its  office, 
falls  into  a  treacherous  combination  with  usurping  sense, 
chooses  lather  to  obey  than  rule,  to  rebel  than  obey ;  for 
not  to  rule,  being  thereto  enjoined  by  the  supreme  Ruler, 
was   to   rebel.     The  empire   of  rebellious  appetite  was 
reckoned  more  tolerable  than  God's  :  thus  are  his  authority 
affronted  and  his  goodness  despised  both  at  once.     He  is 
rejected  both  as  ruler  and  benefactor,  with  equal  disrespect 
to  his  majesty  and  grace,  to  his  governing  and  his  heart- 
delighting  presence.     And  how  ignominious,  hereupon,  is 
the  rejection,  when  so  vile  things  are  chosen  and  preferred ! 
The  tyranny  of  lust,  before  his  holy,  reasonable,  orderly 
government ;  the  pleasures  of  sin,  rather  than  those  of  the 
divine  presence :  this  being  the  practical,  decisive  judgment 
given  in  the  case,  that  these  are  better.     'Tis  better  be  the 
meanest  drudge  and  slave  than  his  servant,  and  feed  upon 
husks  or  ashes  than  his  pure  and  most  satisfying  commu- 
nications.    And  what  he  chose  to  be,  he  is  ;  i.  e.  with  the 
indignity  done  to  God,  he  hath  joined  the  vilest  debase- 
ment of  himself.     For  hence,  also,  how  loathsome  a  crea- 
ture is  he  now  become  !     How  perverted  in  all  his  powers ! 
How  full   of  darkness,  confusion,  impurity,  malignity, 
and  venom  !     How  universally  and  horridly  deformed ! 
And  hereof  an  estimate  may  be  made,  from  his  imaptness 
to  self-reflection  ;  which  how  notorious  is  it !     What  doth 
he  not  rather  choose  to  do  with  his  thoughts,  than  turn 
them  inward  1     And  how  unfit  is  he  for  divine  converse, 
that  cannot  endure  his  own ;  or  to  associate  with  God, 
that  is  become  too  foul  a  creature  to  have  any  satisfying 
converse  with  himself !     Now  what  could  be  expected  to 
ensue   upon  all  this,  but  that  he  should  be  forsaken  of 
God ;  that  the  blessed  presence  be  withdrawn,  that  had 
been  so  despitefully  slighted,  to  return  no  more  7     No 
more,  till  at  least  a  recompense  should  be  made  him  for 
the  wrong  done,  and  a  capacity  be  recovered  for  his  future 
converse :  viz.  till  both  his  honour  should  be  repaired, 
and  his  temple ;  till  he  might  again  honourably  return, 
and  be  fitly  received.     But  who  could  have  thought  in 
what  way  these  things  should  ever  be  brought  to  pass  ? 
i.  e.  neither  could  his  departure  but  be  expected,  nor  his 
return  but  be  above  all  expectation.     To  depart  was  what 
became  him;  a  thing,  as  the  case  was,  most  God-like,  or 
worthy  of  God,  and  what  he  owed  to  himself.     It  was 
meet  so  great  a  Majesty,  having  been  so  condescendingly 
gracious,  should  not  be  also  cheap,  to  appear  unapprehen- 
sive of  being  neglected  and  set  at  nought.     It   became 
him,  as  the  self-sufficient  Being,  to  let  it  be  seen  he  de- 
signed not  man  his  temple  for  want  of  a  house ;  that  hav- 
ing of  old  inhabited  his  own  eternity,  and  having  now  the 
heavens  for  his  throne,  the  earth  his  footstool,  he  could 
dwell  alone,  or  where  he  pleased  else,  in  all  his  great 
creation ;  and  did  not  need,  where  he  was  not  desired. 
That  of  the  Cynic  was  thought  a  brave  saying,  when  his 
malcontented  servant  turned  fugitive,  and  left  him — "  It 
were  an  unworthy  thing  t  Manes  should  think  he  can  live 
without   Diogenes,    and    that    Diogenes  cannot  without 
Manes."     How  much  better  would  it  suit  with  the  real 
self-fulness  of  a  Deity,  where  nothing  of  this  kind  can 
look  like  an  empty,  hollow  boast !     It  was  becoming  of  his 
pure  and  glorious  holiness,  not  to  dwell  amidst  impurities, 
or  let  it  be  thought  he  was  a  God  that  took  pleasure  in 
wickedness  ;  and  most  suitable  to  his  equal  justice  to  let 
them  who  said  to  him,  "  Depart  from  us,"  feel  they  spake 
that  word  against  their  own  life  and  soul ;  and  that  what 
was  their  rash  and  wilful  choice,  is  their  heaviest  doom 
and  punishment.     It  was  only  strange,  that  when  he  left 
his  temple  he  did  not  consume  it ;  and  that  not  leaving  it 
without  being  basely  expulsed,  he  hath  thought  of  return- 
ing without  being  invited  back  again.   Yea,  and  that  what- 
soever was  necessary  thereto,  is  designed  by  his  own  so 
strange  contrivance,  and  done  at  his  own  so  dear  expense : 
his  only-begotten  Son  most  freely  consenting  with  him, 
and  in  sundry  capacities  sustaining  the  weight  and  burthen 
of  this  great  undertaking. 


Chap.  V. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


T7 


CHAPTER  V. 

Tl«restitution  of  this  temple  undertaken  l.ythe  Emmanuel;  First,  more  darkly 
^Sred%fteruard,  mW  clearly  n,u,w.estedT.jsoo.^^^ 
nuel  sutiident.  Necessary  for  ihis  puriiose..  That  Ik;  «a>  "'"sen  t"  ut  uie 
p  atfo".n.  the  foundation,  and  the  lounder  of  .t.  Th;-  ;-"^';";; ,  ^f  ">''  «;,^^f,  "^ 
was,  in  order  hereto,  also  a  sacrifice  ;  1».1'"'<^"J'^ '''^\'  V^V'  'h',  aS  t^^^^ 
and  without  wrong  to  his  f.'oVLrninfe'  justice,  retun,,  aii.l  h.iu;  '"^  abwle  «i  h 
men.  And  that  they  misht  Ik-,-,,,,,,-  |,r,|i,-in-rl  i.,  "'''^'JV,;  ,  :n,l  h/iv  Snir^ 
eencc.  For  which  purpos,.  ,.■  Imi  ,  ,„  ''7'  'I';:!"'"''.''' y'^ ''  ^l ''V,,^  ''  '^  "': 
on  the  account  of  this  sa.-utuv.  1  hat  u  i.n  l..„d  ,s.  Inrih.-  >ak,.  o  it  i  ig 
wemieht  no  longer  remain  unwilling,  lliat  iunvillin!;iie=s  to  lie  inn  o  ne  tiy 
0.e Tower  and  spirit  of  Kmmaimel :  as  liereulUr  to.be  more  lully  shown. 
But  working  (suitably  to  an  inielligent  subject)  m  a  rational  way.  lo  wliicti 
a  great  acconnnodateness,  in  the  consUtution  ot  Emmanuef  As  demon- 
siruting  divine  love,  and  holuiess.  In  its  loveliness.  Possibdity  of  being 
attained. 

And  indeed,  what  was  to  be  designed  and  done,  did 
every  way  call  for  so  great  an  undertaker.— The  indignity 
offered  to  the  majesty  of  the  most  high  God,  in  his  so  igno- 
minious expulsion  from  his  own  temple,  was  to  be  recom- 
pensed;— and  the  ruin  must  be  repaired  which  had  be- 
fallen his  temple  itself 

I.  In  reference  to  both  these  performances,  it  was  deter- 
mined Emmanuel,  i.  e.  his  own  Son,  his  substantial  Ima^e, 
the  Biightness  of  his  glory,  the  eternal  Word,  should  be- 
come incarnate  ;  and  being  so,  should  undertake  several 
parts,  and  in  di-stinct  capacities,  and  be  at  once  a  single 
Temple  himself,  and  that  this  temple  should  be  also  a 
sacrifice,  and  thereby  give  rise  to  a  manifold  temple  con- 
formed to  that  original  one,  of  each  whereof,  in  the  virtue 
of  that  s  icrifice,  he  was  himself  to  be  the  glorious  Pattern, 
the  firm  Foundation,  the  magnificent  Founder,  and  the 
most  curious  Architect  and  Former,  by  his  own  various 
and  most  peculiar  influence. 

This  hath  been  the  result  of  the  divine  counsel,  and  the 
Lord's  own  doing,  most  justly  marvellous  in  our  eyes, 
VIZ.  (which  we  are  next  to  consider.) 

II.  That  the  blessed  God  hath  laid  the  platform  and 
the  foundations  of  his  temple,  as  it  was  to  be  restored  and 
set  up  again  among  men,  in  and  by  that  great  Emmanuel, 
his  own  Son  made  flesh.  It  is  to  be  considered  that  (as 
hath  been  shown)  the  world  had  a  long  time  lain  deluged 
with  wickedness,  sunk  in  sensuality,  and  a  deep  oblivion 
of  God  ;  his  memorial  was  even  lost  among  men,  and  no- 
thing less  thought  of  than  a  temple  in  the  true  design  and 
meaning  of  it ;  the  notices  of  God,  and  any  inclination  to 
religion  that  remained,  (too  deeply  infixed  into  the  mind 
and  nature  of  men  to  be  quite  extinct,)  were  yet  so  faint 
and  weak,  carnal  and  terrene  propensions  so  strong,  that 
the  vital  religion  which  was  the  proper  business  of  a  living 
temple,  could  have  noplace.  It  was  not  only  so  in  the 
pagan  worlds,  from  which  God  had  further  withdrawn 
himself,  but  even  with  that  select  people  to  whom  he 
vouchsafed  more  peculiar  manifestations  and  symbols  of 
his  mind  and  presence. 

They  had  a  figurative  temple  by  his  own  appointment, 
erected  in  much  glory  among  them,  that  might  have  in- 
structed them,  and  by  degrees  the  rest  of  the  world,  if  they 
would  have  understood  its  true  meaning  and  signification, 
that  God  was  yet  willing  to  dwell  with  men  on  earth,  and 
that  it  should  be  a  "  house  of  prayer  for  all  nations,"  who 
ought,  upon  those  glorious  appearances  of  God  among 
that  people,  to  have  gradually  proselyted  themselves  unto 
them.  It  prefigured  what  he  intended,  viz.  in  his  ap- 
pointed season,  by  his  own  Son  to  descend  and  inhabit, 
make  and  constitute  him  a  much  more  glorious  temple 
than  could  be  built  of  wood  or  stone,  or  by  the  hands  of 
men :  that  in  after-time  "  Shiloh  should  come,  unto  whom 
the  gathering  of  the  people  should  be,"  and  by  whom  he 
would  reconcile  and  re-collect  the  apostate  world  back 
again  to  himself  But  all  this  was  an  unintelligible  mys- 
tery on  all  hands ;  entered  not  into  the  minds  of  men  of 
either  sort,  but  much  less  into  their  hearts  ;  and  the  Jews 
did  much  more  afl"ect  to  paganize,  and  go  further  oif  from 
God,  than  the  pagans  (which  in  this  they  ought)  to  judaize, 
and  draw  nearer  to  him.  The  natural  sentiments  of  reli- 
gion, which  were  common  to  all  men,  did  run  out  only 
into  mere  external  observances  and  empty  (though  some- 
what different)  formalities,  that  might  we'll  enough  agree 
with  a  sensual  life,  transacted  in  habitual  estrangement 
from  God,  and  as  without  him  in  the  world ;  so  as  not 


only  not  to  answer  the  true  intent  and  use  of  a  temple,  but 
to  frustrate  and  elude  it. 

III.  When  this  was  the  state  of  things  with  this  world, 
and  the  fulness  of  time  was  now  come,  wherein  God  in- 
tended, with  more  vigour  and  efficacy,  to  renew  and  rein- 
force his  mighty  and  merciful  work  of  setting  up  his  temple, 
and  to  make  it  rise  in  splendour  and  glory  in  the  world, 
he  at  length  sends  down  his  Son  :  he  puts  on  man  ;  be- 
comes Emmanuel ;  an  incarnate  God  among  men  ;  and  a 
Man  inhabited  by  all  the  fulness  of  God.  This  Man  w-as, 
therefore,  a  most  perfect  Temple  ;  the  origiiwl  one  :  i.  e. 
not  only  a  single  one  himself,  but  an  exemplary  Temple, 
to  which  all  other  were  to  be  conformed  ;  the  advantage 
whereof  to  the  forming  of  more  we  shall  see  hereafter : 
whereby  he  was  also  a  virtual  one,  from  which  life  and 
inlluence  was  to  be  transfused  to  raise  and  form  all  others. 
But  in  order  to  its  being  so,  this  very  temple  must  become 
a  sacrifice ;  and  by  dying,  multiply  :  a  seminal  temple,  as 
w^e  shall  hereafter  show,  and  as  he  himself  represents  the 
matter.  John  xii.  24.  And  which  is  in  the  full  sense  of  it 
.said,  1  Pet.  ii.  where,  when  we  were  first  told,  {v.  4,  5.)  we 
must  come  to  him  as  unto  a  living  stone,  and  as  lively 
stones  be  built  up  a  spiritual  house;  we  are  further  told, 
{v.  24.)  that  he  himself  bare  our  sins  is  his  own  body  on 
the  tree,  (where  he  was  offered  as  a  sacrifice,)  that  we 
might  die  to  sin,  and  live  to  righteousness.  For  now,  a 
temple  being,  in  its  proper  u.-;e  and  design,  intended  for 
divine  honour,  could  not  have  its  foundation  in  the  ruin 
thereof,  or  be  built  upon  his  unremedied  dishonour:  the 
Son  of  God,  by  tendering  himself  for  a  valuable  recom- 
pense, must  be  the  Corner-stone  of  this  new  building. 
The  wrong  that  man  had  done  to  the  divine  majesty  should 
be  expiated  by  none  but  man,  and  could  be  by  none  but 
God.  Behold  then  the  w^onderful  conjunction  of  both  in 
the  one  Emmanuel !  who  was,  by  his  very  constitution,  an 
actual  Temple;  "God  with  us;"  the  habitation  of  the 
Deity  returned,  and  resettling  itself  with  men  ;  and  fitted 
to  be  (what  it  must  be  also)  a  most  acceptable  sacrifice. 
For  here  were  met  together  man  that  could  die,  and  God 
that  could  overcome  death  ;  man,  that  might  suffer,  and 
God,  that  could  give  sufficient  value  to  those  sufferings; 
sufficient  to  atone  the  offended  Majesty,  and  procure  that 
life  might  be  diffused,  and  spread  itself  to  all  that  should 
unite  with  him ;  whereby  they  might  become  living  stones, 
joined  to  that  living  Corner-stone;  a  spiritual  temple, 
again  capable  of  that  divine  presence  which  they  had  for- 
feited, and  whereof  they  were  forsaken. 

That  all  this  may  be  the  better  understood,  we  shall 
endeavour  to  show,  more  distinctly,  1.  The  sufficiency  and 
aptness  of  the  constitution  and  appointment  of  Emmanuel, 
(considering  what  he  was,  and  what  was  underiaken  to  be 
suffered  and  performed  by  him,)  as  the  most  proper  and 
adequate  means  for  the  restoring  of  God's  temple  with 
men.     2.  The  necessity  of  this  course  for  this  end. 

L  And  for  the  former,  the  aptness  and  sufficiency  of  this 
course,  or  what  the  setting  up  of  Emmanuel  might  do  for 
this  purpose,  may  be  seen  in  the  suitableness  hereof  to  the 
foregoing  state  of  the  case,  and  by  comparing  therewith 
what  he  is,  and  hath  done  and  suffered  in  order  hereto 
We  have  seen  that  the  former  desolate  slate  of  this  tcmplfi 
was  occasioned  and  inferred  by  man's  aposiacy,  (whereby 
he  became  incapable  of  serving  any  longer  the  purposes  of 
a  temple,  and  God's  departure  thereupon.  There  was 
therefore  the  concurrence  of  somewhat  on  man's  part,  and 
somewhat  on  God's,  unto  this  desolation;  on  man's,  what 
was  unjust,  leading,  and  casual ;  on  God's  what  was  most 
just,  consequent,  and  caused  thereb}';  man's  unrighteous 
and  ill-deserving  aversion  from  God .  and  God's  most  righte- 
ous and  deserved  aversion  hereupon  from  him  :  the  one 
caused  by  the  other,  but  both  causing  in  different  kinds 
the  vacancy  and  deserted  state  of  this  temple  which  en- 
sued ;  the  former  as  a  sinning  cause,  the  latter  as  a  pun- 
ishing. Now  what  we  have  considerable  in  the  Emma- 
nuel towards  the  restoration  of  this  temple,  and  that  it 
might  become  again  habitable  and  replenished  by  the 
Divine  presence  as  before,  is  answerable  to  this  state  of  the 
case ;  and  directly  tending  to  compose  thinirs  between  the 
distanced  parties,  both  on  the  one  part  and  the  other.  And 
because  God  was  to  have  the  first  and  leading  part  in 
reconciliations,  as  man  hath  in  disagreements,  we  have 


78 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  II. 


enough  in  him,  whereupon — God  might  express  himself 
willing  to  rebuild  and  return  to  his  former  dwelling; — 
and  man  be  willing  to  render  it  back  to  him,  and  admit 
the  operation  of  the  fashioning  hand  whereby  it  is  to  be 
prepared  and  refitted  for  its  proper  use. 

IV.  L  The  former  is  eflected  ;  and  a  foundation  is  laid 
for  the  effecting  of  the  other  too,  in  his  becoming  a  sacri- 
^ce  to  justice;  a  sacrifice  so  rich  and  fragrant,  so  full  of 
value  and  grateful  savour,  as  that  abundant  recompense  is 
made  by  it  for  the  wrong  man  had  done  to  the  Majesty 
of  heaven,  by  profaning  and  polluting  this  temjile,  and 
expelling  so  contumeliously  its  great  Inhabitant : — an  in- 
jury, to  which  the  creation,  consuming  in  a  universal  flame, 
had  been  an  unproportionable  sacrifice :  but  the  sacrifice 
ot  himself,  the  Emmanuel,  God-man,  could  be  defective 
in  nothing ;  was  both  suitable  and  equal  to  the  exigency 
of  the  case.  For  the  sacrifice  of  him  who  was  man,  was 
suitable  to  the  offence  of  man  ;  and  of  him  who  was  God, 
was  equal  to  the  wrong  done  to  God.  Long  before  this 
sacrifice  was  offered,  the  expectation  of  it,  and  since,  the 
remembrance  have  been  precious.  It  Avas  of  sufficient 
virtue  to  work  and  diffuse  its  influence  at  the  greatest  dis- 
tance ;  and  not  of  time  onl}',  but  of  place  too  ;  to  perfume 
the  world,  and  scatter  blessings  through  all  the  parts  and 
nations  of  it,  as  well  as  through  all  the  ages.  When  no 
other  sacrifice  or  offerings  could  avail  any  thing,  (Psal.  xl. 
Heb.  X.)  lo  !  He  comes  into  a  body  prepared  on  purpose: 
which,  though  it  was  not  formed  and  assumed  until  the 
fulness  of  time,  (Gal.  iv.  4,)  was  yet  reckoned  as  slain  from 
the  beginning  of  it.  Rev.  xiii.  8.  This  was  the  seed  in 
which,  though  it  sprung  up  only  in  Judca,  yet  all  the  na- 
tions of  the  earth  were  to  be  blessed.  Gen.  xxii.  18.  Long 
was  this  body  in  preparing,  and  the  seed  transmitted  through 
many  generations,  whence  it  was  at  length  to  arise;  into 
which,  as  its  last  preparation,  the  Deity  descended ;  and 
that  it  might  be  a  suflicientlj^  costly  sacrifice,  filled  it  with 
the  divine  fulness ;  for  in  him  dwelt  all  the  fulness  of  the 
Godhead  bodily.  Col.  ii.  9.  When  we  read  Abel's  sacri- 
fice to  have  been  more  excellent  than  Cain's  (Heb.  xi.  4.) 
the  Greek  word  is,  it  was  fnlli;r.  How  full  a  one  was  this ! 
That  was  filled  by  faith  with  a  derivative  fulness;  this, 
immediately  by  God  himself,  with  his  own  self-fulness, 
which  filleth  all  in  all,  and  whence  all  must  receive. 

Being  so  filled,  it  was  a  temple,  and  must  now  further 
be  a  sacrifice.  Both  are  signified  in  that  one  short  passage, 
which  himself  let  fall,  (John  ii.  19.)  "  Destroy  this  tem- 
ple :"  i.  e.  that  he  M^as  a  Temple,  and  was  to  be  destroyed  ; 
which  is  carried  m  the  notion  of  a  sacrifice.  This  he  said 
of  his  body,  v.  21.  Strange  mystery  !  The  very  temple 
itself  a  consuming  oblation,  self-devoted  even  to  destruc- 
tion, and  out  of  that  again  self-raised!  The  Divine  justice 
could  not  hereby  but  be  well  satisfied,  and  say.  It  was 
enough,  when  the  whole  temple  became  all  propitiatory, 
and  the  profanation  of  the  former  temple  was  expiated  by 
the  immolation  of  the  new :  so  that,  in  point  of  honour 
and  justice,  no  exception  could  now  lie  against  the  re- 
turn of  the  Divine  presence  to  its  wasted  and  forsaken 
temple. 

V.  Only  his  return  could  not,  as  yet,  be  presently  to 
dwell  there,  (for  it  was  most  unfit,)  but  to  refit  and  prepare 
it  for  his  future  dwelling.  It  had  been  long  desolate,  and 
hereby  was  become  decayed  and  ruinous,  full  of  noisome 
impurities ;  yea,  the  habitation  of  dragons,  and  devils  of 
Ziim,  and  Jiim,  and  Ochim.  Many  an  abominable  idol 
was  set  up  here,  that  filled  up  the  room  of  the  one  God 
that  had  forsaken  and  left  it.  It  was  wholly  in  the  pos- 
session of  false  gods,  for  whose  use  it  was  the  more  fit,  by 
how  much  it  wa.s  the  less  fit  for  his  ;  for  amidst  darkness, 
confusion,  and  filthiness,  was  the  chosen  seat  of  the  prin- 
cipalities and  powers  that  now  did  dwell  and  rule  here. 
Here  was  the  throne  of  the  prince  of  darkness,  the  resort 
of  his  associates,  the  altars  of  as  many  lusts  as  the  heart 
of  man,  now  wholly  given  up  to  all  manner  of  wicked- 
ness, could  multiply  unto  itself;  by  whose  consent  and 
choice,  this  horrid  alienation  had  been  made  and  con- 
tinued. Upon  such  terms  the  "strong  man  armed  kept 
the  house." 

The  blessed  God  might  now  return,  but  he  must  build 
before  he  dwell,  and  conquer  ere  he  build.  He  might 
return,  but  not  upon  other  terms  than  the  expiatory  value, 


and  actual  or  ascertained  oblation  of  that  above-mentioned 
sacrifice :  for  when  he  forsook  this  his  temple,  he  left  it 
with  just  resentment,  and  his  most  righteous  curse  upon 
it — a  curse  that  was  of  this  import,  "  Never  anything  holy 
or  pure  any  more  come  here,  or  any  thing  good  and  plea- 
sant. The  light  of  the  sun  never  shine  any  more  at  all  on 
thee :  the  voice  of  joy  and  gladness  never  be  heard  any 
more  at  all  in  thee."  The  powerful  horror  of  this  curse 
held  it  doomed  to  all  the  desolation  and  misery  that  were 
upon  it ;  confirmed  it  in  the  power  of  him  that  ruled  here, 
at  his  will.  Hence,  had  the  magic  and  charms  of  the  evil 
one,  their  permitted,  unresisted  efficacy,  rendered  it  an 
enchanted  place;  related  and  adjoined  it  to  the  nether 
world,  the  infernal  region  ;  made  it  the  next  neighbour- 
hood, even  of  the  very  suburbs  of  hell ;  barred  out  all 
divine  light  and  grace,  all  heavenly  beams  and  influences 
from  it.  So  that,  had  it  not  been  for  this  Sacrifice,  this 
temple  had  been  and  remained,  even  in  the  same  kind,  an 
accursed  place,  as  hell  itself:  the  Spirit  of  God  should 
have  had  no  more  to  do  here,  than  there;  for  so  the  sen- 
tence and  curse  of  his  violated  law  had  determined : 
"  Thou  shalt  die  the  death,"  did  say  no  less. 

VI.  But  now,  (Gal.  iii.)  Christ  hath  redeemed  us  from 
the  curse  of  the  law,  being  made  a  curse  for  us :  for  it  is 
written,  Cursed  is  every  one  that  hangeth  on  a  tree  :  that 
the  blessing  of  Abraham  might  come  on  the  Gentiles ;  that 
we  might  receive  the  promise  of  the  Spirit  through  faith. 
He  was  made  a  curse  for  us ;  not  the  same  in  kind  which 
we  had  incurred,  (which  it  were  horrid  to  think,)  but  such 
as  his  slate  could  admit,  and  ours  could  lequire.  For  that 
a  person  so  immutably  pure  and  holy  should  become  an 
impure  thing,  was  what  his  state  could  not  admit ;  and 
that  one  of  so  high  dignity  should  willingly  suffer  to  that 
degree  which  he  did  for  us,  was  a  thing  of  so  great  merit 
and  value,  as  to  answer  the  uttermost  of  our  ill-deservings ; 
than  which  the  exigency  of  our  case  could  not,  in  that 
respect,  call  for  more.  And  the  end  or  design  of  his  be- 
coming to  that  degree  a  curse  for  us,  being  expressly  said 
to  be  this,  that  we  might  receive  the  promise  of  the  Spirit, 
(or  the  promised  Spirit,)  implies  that  the  curse  upon  us 
had  intercepted  and  cut  off  from  us  all  influence  of  that 
holy  blessed  Spirit;  for  the  fresh  emission  whereof,  in 
God's  own  stated  method,  he  had  now  again  opened  the 
way.  That  this  blessing  is  hereby  said  to  become  the  por- 
tion of  the  Gentiles,  was  enough  to  the  apostle's  present 
purpose,  writing  to  the  Galatians  ;  the  Jews  having,  upon 
the  same  terms,  had  the  same  privilege  formerly  from  age 
to  age  :  "  Thou  gavest  thy  good  Spirit  to  instruct  them ;" 
(Neh.  ix.  20.)  which  also  is  implied  in  their  being  charged 
with  vexing  and  rejecting  this  blessed  Spirit,  one  genera- 
tion after  another,  Isa.  Ixiii.  10.  Acts  vii.  51.  And  they 
had  now  the  same  gospel,  and  are  here  also  included,  in 
that  it  is  said  to  be  the  blessing  of  Abraham  ;  into  the 
communion  whereof  the  Gentiles  are  now  declared  to  have 
been  admitted,  about  which  so  great  a  doubt  had  been  in 
those  days.  That  therefore  the  Spirit  might  be  given  for 
the  mentioned  purpose,  on  the  account  of  the  Son  of  God's 
oblation  of  himself,  is  out  of  question.  The  necessity  that 
he  should  be  only  given  on  these  terms,  will  be  seen  here- 
after, in  its  proper  place,  in  ch.  ix. 

But  whereas  it  hath  been  designed  in  all  this  discourse 
to  represent  the  constitution  of  Immanuel  (being  first  made 
a  personal  Temple,  then  a  Sacrifice)  as  an  apt  and  fit 
means  to  multiply  this  one  temple  into  many,  and  bring  it 
about,  that  upon  just  and  honourable  terms  God  might 
again  return  to  inhabit  the  souls  of  men  :  it  may  perhaps 
be  alleged,  by  some, — That  it  seems  an  unrighteous  thing 
God  should  appoint  his  own  innocent  Son  to  be  punished 
for  the  sins  of  offending  creatures,  and  let  them  escape. 
And  then  how  could  an  unjust  act  make  for  the  honour  of 
his  justice,  or  that  which  was  in  itself  unfit,  be  a  fit  means 
to  any  good  end  1 — The  loud  clamours  wherewith  some 
later  contenders  have  filled  the  Christian  world  upon  this 
subject,  make  it  fit  to  say  somewhat  of  it;  and  the  thing 
itself  needs  not  that  we  say  much.  We  do  know  that  the 
innocent  Son  of  God  was  crucified  ;  we  know  it  was  by 
God's  determinate  counsel ;  we  know  it  was  for  the  sins 
of  men  ;  (which  the  adversaries,  in  a  laxer  and  less  signifi- 
cant sense,  deny  not,  though  it  must  by  no  means  be 
understood,  say  they,  as  a  punishment  of  those  sins;)  we 


Chap.  V. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


T9 


know  many  of  those  sinners  do  finally  escape  deserved 
punishment..  The  truth  of  these  things,  in  fact,  is  disputed 
on  neither  side  :  all  these  then  are  acknowledged  recon- 
cilable and  consistent  with  the  justice  of  God.  What 
then  is  to  be  inferred^  Not  that  these  things  are  not  so, 
;  for  that  they  are,  is  acknowledged  on  all  hands.  What 
then  ?  That  God  is  unjust  1  Will  their  zeal  for  the  repu- 
tation of  God's  justice  admit  of  this  1  No  ;  but  it  is  only 
unjust  to  count  this  suftering  of  his  Son  a  punishment : 
that  is,  'tis  unjust  he  should  sutler  for  a  valuable  and 
necessary  purpose ;  not  that  he  should  sufier  needlessly, 
or  for  no  purpose  that  might  not  have  been  served  without 
it!  But  why  may  not  the  sufferings  of  Christ  be  looked 
on  as  a  punishment!  Because  they  will  have  it  be  essen- 
tial to  pimishment,  that  it  be  inflicted  on  the  person  that 
offended ;  and  then  inconsistent  with  its  notion  and  essence, 
that  it  be  inflicted  on  an  innocent  person.     But  if  so,  the 

Eretence  for  the  cry  of  injustice  vanishes,  vmless  they  will 
e  so  absurd  as  to  say.  It  is  very  just  to  afflict  an  inno- 
cent person,  but  not  to  punish  him;  when  the  punishment 
hath  no  more  in  it  of  real  evil  to  him  that  suffers  it,  than 
the  admitted  affliction.  And  when  they  say,  The  very  no- 
tion of  punishment  carries  in  it  an  essential  respect  to  that 
personal  guilt  of  him  that  bears  it,  it  implies  that  in  the 
present  case  punishment  hath  no  place,  not  because  it  is 
unjust,  but  because  it  is  impossible.  In  the  meantime, 
how  vain  and  ludicrous  is  that  pretence,  that  all  the  real 
evil  which  God  determined  should  befall  his  Son  he  .should 
let  come  upon  him  with  ackuQwledged  justice,  but  that 
the  injustice  must  lie  only  in  a  notion ;  i.  e.  if  he  look 
upon  it  as  a  pimishment.  Yet  also  the  pimishing  of  one 
for  another's  offence  is  forbidden  to  men,  as  themselves 
allege  from  Deut.  xxiv.  16.  (as  it  is  not  strange  God  should 
disallow  men  that  dominion  over  one  another,  which  he 
mny  claim  to  himself,  and  which  he  is  in  no  such  possibi- 
lity to  abuse  as  they,)  which  therefore  shows  their  notion 
of  punishment  is  false,  by  which  they  would  make  it  im- 
possible for  one  man  to  be  puni-shed  for  another's  faults, 
(as  the  ''learned  Grotius  acutely  argues,)  inasmuch  as  it 
were  absurd  to  forbid  a  thing  that  is  impossible.  And 
that  God  himself  doth  often  pimish  the  sins  of  some  upon 
others  is  evident  enough  from  many  places  of  holy  Scrip- 
ture ;  particularly  the  second  commandment,  (Exod.  xx. 
5.)  "  I  the  Lord  thy  God  am  a  jealous  God,  vi.siting  the 
sins  of  the  fathers  upon  the  children,"  &c.  2  Sara.  xxiv. 
15,  &c.  1  Kings  xiv.  Lam.  v.  7.  Whereas  therefore  they 
are  wont,  on  the  contrary,  to  allege  that  of  Ezek.  xviii. 
"  Ye  shall  no  more  use  this  proverb,  The  fathers  have 
eaten  the  sour  grapes,  and  the  children's  teeth  are  set  on 
edge,"  V.  2,  3.  and  19,  20,  &c.  It  is  plain,  in  that  it  is 
said.  Ye  shall  no  more,  &c.  that  the  blessed  God  speaks 
here  of  what,  in  merciful  indulgence,  he  for  the  future 
would  not  do,  not  of  what  in  strict  justice  he  might  not ; 
for  can  it  be  supposed  he  owns  himself  to  have  dealt  un- 
justly with  them  before. 

It  is  evidently  therefore  neither  impossible  nor  unjust  to 
punish  one  for  another's  offence  ;  and  the  matter  only 
.seems  harsh,  to  such  as  have  misshapen  to  themselves  the 
notion  of  punishment,  and  make  it  only  correspond  to  the 
appetite  of  private  revenge  :  whereas  it  only  answers  to  a 
just  will  of  vindicating  the  rights  and  honour  of  govern- 
ment;  which  may  most  fitly  be  done,  upon  another  than 
the  offender,  not  at  random,  or  in  an  undistinguishing  pro- 
miscuous hurry,  but  upon  the  two  suppositions  mentioned 
by  the  above-recited  author.  1.  If  there  be  a  near  con- 
junction between  the  person  punished,  and  the  person 
offending.  2.  If  there  be  a  consent  and  voluntary  sus- 
ception  of  the  former  on  behalf  of  the  other.  And  we  add, 
a.s  a  3.  Especially  if  there  be  thereupon  a  legal  substitu- 
tion, the  supreme  ruler  upon  that  consent  also  agreeing, 
providing,  by  a  special  law  made  in  the  case,  for  such 
transferring  of  the  guilt  and  punishment.  All  which  have 
so  eminently  concurred  in  the  present  case,  that  it  can 
proceed  from  nothing  but  a  disposition  to  cavil,  further  to 
msist  and  contend  about  it.  And  we  know  that  such 
translations  have  among  men  not  only  been  esteemed  just, 
but  laudable ;  as  in  the  known  story  of  Zaleucus,  who 
having  ordained  that  adultery  among"  his  Locricas  should 

a  De  Satisfact, 


be  punished  with  the  loss  of  lx)th  eyes,  and  his  own  son 
afterwards  being  found  guilty  of  that  crime,  was  content  to 
lose  one  of  his  own  eyes,  that  justice  might  be  done  to  the 
public  constitution,  and  mercy  be  .shown  to  his  son  in 
saving  one  of  his :  and  that  of  the  Pythagoreans,  Damon 
and  Pythias,  the  one  of  whom  pawned  his  own  life  to  the 
tyrant,  to  procure  time  for  ?he  other  (condemned  to  die) 
wherein  to  settle  some  affairs  abroad  before  his  death; 
who  returning  within  the  limited  time  to  .save  his  faith 
and  his  friend's  life,  by  surrendering  his  own,  so  moved 
tlie  tyrant  that  he  spared  both.  The  common  case  of  man, 
forsaken  of  the  divine  presence,  and  not  to  be  restored 
without  recompense,  was  the  most  deplorable  and  the  most 
important  that  could  be  tliought.  And  it  may  now  be 
compassionately  cared  for;  this  having  been  obtained  by 
this  great  sacrifice,  that  the  divine  justice  is  so  well  satis- 
fied, and  his  majesty  and  honour  .so  fully  asserted  and  vin- 
dicated, as  that  he  now  mav,  without  wrong  to  himself, 
(his  justice  and  the  dignity  of  his  goveinment  not  reclaim- 
ing against  it,)  cast  a  compassionate  and  favourable  eye 
upon  the  desolations  of  his  temple;  take  up  kind  thoughts 
towards  it ;  send  forth  his  mightier  Spirit  to  di.spossess 
the  "  strong  man  armed,"  to  vanquish  the  combined  ene- 
my-powers, to  build  and  cleanse  and  beautify  the  habita- 
tion of  his  holiness,  and  then  inhabit  and  dwell  in  it: 
upon  which  account  it  is  now  called,  the  temple  of  the 
Holy  Ghost ;  the  Spirit  which  the  Father  .sends,  in  the 
name  of  the  Son,  upon  this  errand;  he  having  obtained 
that  it  should  be  sent.  By  which  Spirit  also  ihe  Emma- 
nuel was  .sufficientlj'  enabled  to  gain  our  consent  unto  all 
this ;  for  his  dying  on  the  cro.ss  was  not  that  he  mijfht 
have  the  Spirit  in  himself,  but  that  he  might  have  the 
power  of  communicating  it:  and  so  (as  was  before  inti- 
mated) might  the  foundation  he  laid  fen-  what  i;  to  be  done 
on  our  part,  by  the  offering  of  this  sacrifice  :  of  which  we 
are  next  further  to  treat. 

VII.  Wherefore,  '2(Ui/,  That  which  was  to  be  done  on  <«ir 
part,  in  order  to  the  restoring  of  God's  temple  in  us,  was, 
that  we  be  made  vUUng  of  his  return,  and  that  there  be 
wrought  in  us  whatsoever  might  tend  to  make  us  fitly  ca- 
pable of  so  great  a  presence.  More  needs  not  to  be  said 
(but  much  more  easily  might)  to  show  thnt  we  were  most 
unwilling.  And  that  our  becoming  willing  was  requisite, 
is  sufficiently  evident.  For  what  sort  of  a  temple  are  we 
to  be?  Not  of  wood  and  stone;  but  a.s  our  worship  must 
be  all  reasonable  service,  of  the  same  constitution  mu.st 
the  temple  be  whence  it  is  to  proceed.  We  are  to  be  tem- 
ples, by  self-dedication,  separating  ourselves  unto  that 
purpose;  and  are  to  be  the  voluutar}'  under-labourers  in 
the  work  that  is  to  be  done  for  the  preparing  of  this  temple 
for  its  proper  use:  and  the  use  which  is  to  be  made  of  it, 
that  there  the  blessed  God  and  we  might  amicably  and 
with  delight  converse  together,  supposes  our  continual 
willingness,  which  therefore  must  be  once  obtained.  Now 
unto  this  purpose  also,  the  constitution  of  Emmanuel  was 
most  .suitable;  or  the  setting  up  of  this  one  eminent  tem- 
ple first,  God  ill  Christ.  This  was  a  leading  case,  and 
had  a  further  design :  it  was  never  meant  that  the  Divine 
presence  should  be  confined  to  that  one  single  Person,  or 
only  that  God  should  have  a  temple  on  earth  as  long  as 
the  Man  Christ  should  reside  there ;  but  he  was  to  be  the 
priviary  original  Tempk  ;  and  his  being  so,  did  contribute 
to  the  making  us  willing  to  become  his  temples  al.-^o. 

iKl.  As  here  was  the  fulness  of  that  Spirit,  by  whose 
power  and  influence  that,  and  all  the  subsequent  work, 
was  to  be  wrought  in  us:  which  fulness  is  bv  that  blessed 
name  EMMANUEL,  signified  to  be  in  him  on  purpose 
to  be  communicated,  or  as  what  must  be  some  way  com- 
mon unto  God  with  us.  Our  aversion  was  not  easily 
vincible:  the  people,  it  was  said,  (speaking  of  the  reisrnof 
Emmanuel,)  should  be  willing  in  the  day  of  his  power; 
(Ps.  ex.  3.)  and  as  it  follows,  in  the  beauties  of  holiness, 
1  Chr.  xvi.  29.  This  was  a  known  name  of  God's  tem- 
ple, for  the  building  whereof  David  wa-s  now  preparing, 
and  whereto  the  passages  agree,  Ps.  xxvii.  4.  Ps.  xc\n.  8,  9. 
And  that  spiritual  one  whereof  we  speak  must  be  here 
chiefly  meant,  whereof  the  Christian  world,  in  its  exterior 
frame,  is  but  the  outer  court ;  or  is  subordinate  to  the  interior 


80 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  II. 


frame,  and  to  the  work  thereof,  hut  as  scafTolds  to  the  build- 
ing which  they  enclose.  The  people  shall  be  loilling,  but 
not  otherwise  than  being  made  so  by  his  'power ;  and  that 
not  always  put  forth,  but  in  the  day  of  his  power;  on  a 
noted  memorable  day;  a  day  intended  for  the  demonstra- 
tion and  magnifying  of  his  power ;  i.  e.  the  season  when 
Emmanuel  (the  Lord,  to  whom  the  speech  was  addressed) 
would  apply  and  set  himself,  even  with  his  might,  to  the 
great  work  of  restoring  and  raising  up  the  temple  of  God : 
a  work  not  to  be  done  by  might  and  power,  (according  to 
the  common,  vulgar  notion  thereof,  by  which  nothing  is 
reckoned  might  and  power  but  a  visible  arm  of  flesh,  hosts 
and  armies,  horses  and  chariots,)  but  by  my  Spirit,  saith 
the  Lord  of  hosts,  Zech.  iv.  Then,  though  the  spirits  of 
men  swell  as  mountains,  in  proud  enmity  and  opposition, 
(which  must  be  levelled  where  this  building  is  designed,) 
those  mountains  shall  appear  bubbles  :  what  are  they  be- 
fore this  great  undertaker  1  They  shall  become  a  plain, 
when  the  Head-stone  is  brought  forth  with  shoutings, 
unto  which  the  cry  shall  be,  Grace,  grace.  tThis  is  the 
Stone  laid  in  Zion  for  a  foundation,  sure  and  tried,  elect 
and  <=  precious;  disallowed  by  men,  but  chosen  of  God; 
the  d  chief  Stone  of  the  corner ;  a  living,  spirituous  Stone, 
from  which  is  a  mighty  effluence  of  life  and  spirit,  all  to 
attract  and  animate  other  stones,  and  draw  them  into  union 
with  itself,  so  as  to  compact  and  raise  up  this  admirable 
fabric,  a  spiritual  house  for  "  spiritual  sacriiice,  acceptable 
to  God  by  Jesus  Christ:"  a  Stone  that  shall  spread  life 
through  the  whole  frame  ;  called  therefore  a  ^Branch,  as 
well  as  a  Stone,  whereto  is  attributed  the  work  and  the 
glory  of  building  God's  temple.  "  Behold  the  Man  whose 
name  is  the  Branch ;  and  he  shall  grow  up  out  of  his 
place,  and  he  shall  build  the  temple  of  the  Lord ;  even 
he  shall  build  the  temple  of  the  Lord  ;  and  he  shall  bear 
the  glory,"  &c.  chap.  vi.  A  plain  indication,  that  the 
prophecies  of  that  book  did  not  ultimately  terminate  in 
the  restoration  of  the  temple  at  Jerusalem;  but,  more 
mystically,  intended  (he  great  comprehensive  temple  of 
the  living  God,  which  the  Messiah  should  extend  and 
ditfuse,  by  a  mighty  communication  of  his  Spirit,  through 
the  world  ;  when  (as  is  afterwards  said,  v.  15.)  "  they  that 
are  afar  off  shall  come  and  build  in  the  temple  of  the 
Lord ;  "  and  the  inhabitants  of  one  city  shall  go  to  an- 
other, saying,  Let  us  go  speedily  to  pray  before  the  Lord, 
and  to  seek  the  Lord  of  hosts ;  I  will  go  also.  Many 
people  and  strong  nations,"  &c.  chap.  viii.  20,  21,  22. 
Ten  men  out  of  all  languages  to  one  Jew,  that  shall  say, 
We  will  go  with  you,  for  we  have  heard  that  God  is  with 
you.  Mic.  iv.  2.  This,  'tis  said,  shall  be  at  Jerusalem, 
but  it  must  be  principally  meant  of  the  New  Jerusalem, 
that  Cometh  down  from  heaven,  that  is  from  above,  that  is 
iree  with  her  children,  and  is  the  mother  of  us  all.  And 
how  plentiful  an  effusion  of  Spirit !  how  mighty  and  gene- 
ral an  attraction,  by  it,  is  signified  in  all  this,  by  which  so 
deeply  rooted  an  aversion  to  God  and  serious  living  re- 
ligion, as  is  known  to  be  common  to  men,  is  overcome,  and 
turned  into  willingness  and  inclination  towards  him  !  And 
whereby  that  great  primary  temple,  CHRIST,  replenished 
with  the  divine  fulness,  multiplies  itself  into  so  many,  or 
enlarges  itself  into  that  one,  his  church ;  called  also  his 
body,  (as  both  his  very  body  and  that  church  are  called  his 
temple,)  the  fulness  of  him  that  filleth  all  in  all.  Nor 
needs  it  scruple  us,  or  give  us  any  trouble,  that  we  find 
this  name  of  a  temple  placed  upon  a  good  man  singly  and 
alone,  sometimes  upon  the  whole  community  of  such 
together.  Each  one  bears  a  double  habitude — direct 
towards  God,  by  which  he  is  capable  of  being  his  private 
mansion  ;  collateral  towards  our  fellow  Christians,  where- 
by he  is  a  part  of  his  more  enlarged  dwelling.  Whensoever 
then  any  accession  is  made  to  this  spiritual  temple,  begun 
in  Christ  himself,  it  is  done  by  a  further  diffusion  of  that 
Spirit,  whereof  that  original  Temple  is  the  first  receptacle. 
VIII.  But  moreover,  because  it  was  a  rational  subject 
that  was  to  be  wrought  upon,  it  is  also  to  be  expected 
that  the  work  itself  be  done  in  a  rational  way.  These 
that  must  be  made  living,  and  that  were  before  intelligent 
stones,  were  not  to  be  hewed,  squared,  polished,  and  moved 
to  and  fro  by  a  violent  hand;  but  being  to  be  rendered 

b  Isa.  xxviii.  cPsuMii  cxvfu.  dl  Peter  ii. 


willing,  must  be  dealt  with  in  a  way  suitable  to  the  effect 
to  be  wrought.  They  are  themselves  to  conie  as  lively 
stones,  to  the  living  Corner-stone,  by  a  vital  act  of  their 
own  will;  which,  we  know,  is  not  to  be  moved  by  force, 
but  rational  allurement.  Wherefore  this  being  the  thing 
to  be  brought  about,  it  is  not  enough  to  inquire  or  under- 
stand by  what  power,  but  one  would  also  covet  to  know 
by  what  motive  or  inducement,  is  this  willingness  and  vital 
co-operation  brought  to  pass  ;  and  we  shall  find  this  origi- 
nal Temple,  the  Emmanuel,  had  not  only  in  it  a  spring  of 
sufficient  power,  but  also, 

2dly,  Carried  with  it  enough  of  argument  and  rational 
inducement,  whereby  to  persuade  and  overcome  our  wills 
into  a  cheerful  compliance  and  consent.     And  that, 

IX.  1.  As  it  was  itself  the  most  significant  demon- 
stration of  divine  love,  ih?ir\.  which  nothing  is  more  apt  to 
move  and  work  upon  the  spirit  of  man.  The  bonds  of 
love  are  the  cords  of  a  man,  (Hos.  xi.  4.)  of  an  attractive 
power,  most  peculiarly  suitable  to  human  nature:  We 
love  him,  because  he  first  loved  us,  1  John  iv.  This  is 
rational  magnetism.  When  in  the  whole  sphere  of  beings 
we  have  so  numerous  instances  of  things  that  propagate 
themselves,  and  beget  their  like,  can  we  suppose  the  divine 
love  to  be  only  barren  and  destitute  of  this  power"?  And 
we  find,  among  those  that  ^re  born  of  God,  there  is  no- 
thing more  eminently  conspicuous,  in  this  production,  than 
love.  This  new  creature  were  otherwise  a  dead  creature. 
This  is  its  very  heart,  life,  and  soul ;  that  which  acts  and 
moves  it  towards  God,  and  is  the  spring  of  all  holy  ope- 
rations. Since  then  love  is  found  in  it,  and  is  so  eminent 
a  part  of  its  composition,  what  should  be  the  parent  of 
this  love,  but  lovel  Nor  is  this  a  blind  or  unintelligent 
production,  in  respect  of  the  manner  of  it,  either  on  the 
part  of  that  which  begets,  or  of  that  which  is  begotten : 
not  only  he  who  is  propagating  his  own  love,  designs  it, 
and  knows  what  he  is  about,  but  he  that  is  hereby  made 
to  love,  knows  whereto  he  is  to  be  formed,  and  receives, 
through  an  enlightened  mind,  the  very  principle,  power, 
and  spirit  of  love.  Is  his  love  the  cause  of  ours  ;  or  do 
we  love  him,  because  he  loved  us  first  1  And  what  sort  of 
cause  is  it  1  or  how  doth  it  work  its  effect,  otherwise  than 
as  his  love,  testified  and  expressing  itself,  lets  us  see  how 
reasonable  and  congruous  it  is,"  that  we  should  love  back 
again  1  As  is  more  than  intimated,  by  the  same  sacred 
writer,  in  that  epistle :  "  Hereby  perceive  we  the  love  of 
God,"  &c.  chap.  iii.  16.  Somewhat  or  other  must  first 
render  his  love  perceivable  to  us,  that  thereby  we  may  be 
induced  to  love  him  for  his  own,  and  our  brother  for  his 
sake.  And  again,  "  We  have  known  and  believed  the 
love  that  God  hath  to  us.  God  is  love,"  &c.  After  which 
it  shortly  follows,  "  We  love  him,  because  he  first  loved 
us;"  q.  d,.  The  way  of  God's  bringing  us  to  that  love- 
union  with  himself,  that  we  by  love  dwell  in  him,  and  he 
in  us,  is,  by  his  representing  himself  a  Being  of  love. 
Till  he  beget  in  us  that  apprehension  of  himself,  and  we 
be  brought  to  know  and  believe  the  love  that  he  hath  to- 
wards us,  this  is  not  done.  But  where  have  we  that 
representation  of  God's  love  toward  us,  save  in  Emmanuel  1 
This  is  the  sum  of  the  ministry  of  reconciliation,  or  which 
is  all  one,  of  making  men  love  God,  to  wit,  that  God  was 
in  Christ  reconciling  the  world  to  himself,  &c.  2  Cor.  v. 
18,  19.  This  was  the  very  make  and  frame,  the  consti- 
tution and  design,  of  the  original  Temple,  to  be  the  "  Ta- 
bernacle of  witness  ;"  a  visible  testimony  of  the  love  of 
God,  and  of  his  kind  and  gracious  propensions  towards 
the  race  of  men,  however  they  were  become  an  apostate 
and  degenerous  race;  to  let  them  see  how  inclined  and 
willing  he  was  to  become  acquainted  again  with  them,  and 
that  the  old  intimacy  and  friendship,  long  since  out-worn, 
might  be  renewed.  And  this  gracious  inclination  was 
testified,  parity  by  Christ's  taking  up  his  abode  on  earth ; 
or  by  the  erecting  of  this  original  Temple,  by  the  Word's 
being  made  flesh,  (John  iv.)  wherein  (as  the  Greek  ex- 
presses it  f )  he  did  tabernacle  among  us.  That  whereas  we 
did  dwell  here  in  earthly  tabernacles,  (only  now  destitute 
and  devoid  of  the  divine  presence,)  he  most  kindly  comes 
and  pitches  his  tent  amongst  our  tents ;  sets  up  his  taberna- 
cle by  ours,  replenished  and  full  of  God ;  so  that  here  the 


e  Zecli.  ill.  8,  9. 


f  MKr)V(jiOev. 


Chap.  V. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


81 


divine  glory  was  familiarly  visible,  the  glory  of  the  only 
begotten  Son  of  the  Father,  shining  with  mild  and  gentle 
rays,  such  as  should  allure,  not  affright  us,  npr  their  terror 
make  us  afraid.  A  vail  is  most  condescendingly  put  on, 
lest  majesty  should  too  potently  strike  disaccustomed  and 
misgiving  minds  ;  and  what  is  more  terrible  of  this  glory, 
is  allayed  by  being  interwoven  with  "  grace  and  truth." 
Upon  this  account  might  it  now  truly  be  proclaimed, 
"  Behold,  the  tabernacle  of  God  is  with  men  !"  That  is 
performed  which  once  seemed  hardly  credible,  and  (when 
that  temple  was  raised  that  was  intended  but  for  a  type 
and  shadow  of  this)  was  spoken  of  with  wondering  expos- 
tulation :  "  In  very  deed  will  God  dwell  with  men  on 
earth  !"  "Whereas  it  might  have  been  reasonably  thought 
this  world  should  have  been  for  ever  forsaken  of  God,  and 
no  appearance  of  him  ever  have  been  seen  here,  unless 
with  a  design  of  taking  vengeance  ;  how  unexpected  and 
surprising  a  thing  was  this,  that  in  a  state  of  so  comfortless 
darlcness  and  desolation,  the  "  day-spring  from  on  high 
should  visit  it,"  and  that  God  should  come  down  and 
settle  himself  in  so  mean  a  dwelling,  on  purpose  to  seek 
the  acquaintance  of  his  offending,  disaffected  creature  ! 
But  chiefly  and  more  eminently  this  his  gracious  inclina- 
tion was  testified, — 

By  the  manner  and  design  of  his  leaving  this  his  earthly 
abode,  and  yielding  that  his  temple  to  destruction  :  "  De- 
stroy this  temple,  and  I  will  raise  it  up."  This  being  an 
animated  living  temple,  could  not  be  destroyed  without 
sense  of  pain,  unto  which  it  could  not  willingly  become 
subject,  but  upon  design ;  and  that  could  be  no  other  than 
a  design  of  love.  When  he  could  have  commanded  twelve 
legions  of  angels  to  have  been  the  guardians  of  this  temple, 
to  expose  it  to  the  violence  of  profane  and  barbarous 
hands !  this  could  proceed  from  nothing  but  love ;  and 
greater  love  could  none  show,  especially  if  we  consider 
what  was  the  designed  event.  This  temple  was  to  fall  but 
single,  that  it  might  be  raised  manifold  :  it  was  intended 
(as  it  came  to  pass)  to  be  multiplied  by  being  destroyed  ; 
as  himself  elegantly  illustrates  the  matter :  "  Verily,  verily, 
I  say  imto  you.  Except  a  corn  of  wheat  fall  into  the  ground 
and  die,  it  abideth  alone;  but  if  it  die,  it  bringeth  forth 
much  fruit ;"  (John  xii.)  which  he  afterwards  expresses 
without  a  metaphor.  "  And  I,  if  I  be  lifted  up  from  the 
earth,"  signifying,  as  it  follows,  the  death  he  should  die, 
"  will  draw  all  men  unto  me." 

We  will  not  here  insist  on  what  was  said  before,  that 
hereby  the  way  was  opened  for  the  emission  of  the  Spirit, 
which,  when  it  came  forth,  performed  such  wonders  in  this 
kind,  creating  and  forming  into  temples  many  a  disaffected 
unwilling  heart.  Whence  it  may  be  seen,  that  he  forsook 
that  his  present  dwelling ;  not  that  he  might  dwell  here 
no  longer,  but  only  to  change  the  manner  of  his  dwelling, 
and  that  he  might  dwell  here  more  to  common  advantage: 
the  thing  he  intended,  when  he  came  down.  He  came 
down,  that  b}^  dying,  and  descending  low  into  the  lower 
parts  of  the  earth,  he  might  make  way  for  a  glorious  ascent; 
and  ascended,  that  he  might  fill  all  things;  (Eph.  iv.)  that 
he  might  give  gifts  to  men,  even  the  rebellious  also,  that 
he  might  dwell  among  them,  Ps.  Ixviii.  Not,  I  say,  to 
insist  on  this,  which  shows  the  power  by  which  those  great 
effects  were  wrought,  we  may  also  here  consider  the  way 
wherein  they  were  wrought ;  ?'.  e.  by  way  of  representalion 
and  demonstration  of  the  divine  love  to  men.  How 
brightly  did  this  shine,  in  the  glorious  ruin  and  fall  of  this 
temple  !  Herein,  how  did  redeeming  love  triumph  !  how 
mightily  did  it  conquer,  and  slay  the  enmity  that  wrought 
in  the  minds  of  men  before  !  Here  he  overcame  by  dying, 
and  slew  by  being  slain.  Now  were  his  arrows  sharp  in 
the  hearts  of  enemies,  by  which  they  became  subject,  Ps. 
xlv.  What  wounded  him,  did,  by  a  strong  reverberation, 
wound  them  back  again.  How  inwardly  were  thousands 
of  them  pierced  by  the  sight  of  him  whom  thev  had 
pierced  !  How  sharp  a  sting"  was  in  those  words,  "  There- 
fore let  all  the  house  of  Israel  know  assuredly,  that  God 
hath  made  that  same  Jesus,  whom  ye  crucified,  both  Lord 
and  Christ !"  Acts  ii.  For  it  immediately  follows,  "  When 
they  heard  this,  they  were  pricked  to  the  heart."  They 
that  crucified  him,  are  crucified  with  him;  are  now  in 
agonies,  and  willing  to  vield  to  any  thingthev  are  required: 
"  Men  and  brethren,  what  shall  we  do  "!"     He  mav  have 


temples  now,  for  taking  tnem ;  the  mo.st  obdurate  hearts 
are  overcome :  and  what  could  be  so  potent  an  argument  1 
what  so  accommodate  to  the  nature  of  man  ;  so  irresistible 
byiti  To  behold  this  live-temple  of  the  living  God,  the 
sacred  habitation  of  a  Deity,  full  of  pure  and  holy  life  and 
vigour,  by  vital  union  with  the  eternal  Godhead,  volunta- 
rily devoted  and  made  subject  to  the  most  painful  and 
ignominious  suffering,  purposely  to  make  atonement  for 
the  offence  done  by  revolted  creatures  against  their  rightful 
Lord  !  What  rocks  would  not  rent  at  this  spectacle  1 
Enough  to  put  the  creation  (as  it  did)  into  a  paroxysm, 
and  bring  upon  it  travailing  pangs  !  And  how  strange  if 
the  hearts  of  men,  only  next  and  most  closely  concerned, 
should  alone  be  unmoved,  and  wit!  out  the  sense  of  such 
pangs!  Well  might  it  be  said,  "  I,  if  I  be  lift  up,  will 
draw  all  men,"  without  any  such  diminishing  sense  as  to 
mean  by  that  all  a  very  few  only  ;  not  intending  so  much 
by  it  the  effect  wrought,  (though  that  also  be  not  incon- 
siderable,) as  the  power,  or  natural  aptitude  of  the  cause, 
q.  d.  This  were  enough  to  vanquish  and  subdue  the  world, 
to  mollify  every  heart  of  man  ;  and  to  leave  the  character 
upon  them  of  most  inhuman  creatures,  and  imworthy  to 
be  called  men,  that  shall  not  be  dra-^Ti.  It  might  be 'ex- 
pected, that  every  one  that  hath  not  abandoned  humanitj', 
or  hath  the  spirit  of  a  man  in  him,  should  be  wrought 
upon  by  this  means  :  and  they  cannot  but  incur  most  fear- 
ful guilt,  even  all  men,  who  once  having  notice  of  this 
matter,  are  not  effectually  wrought  upon  by  it. 

Upon  which  account,  the  apostle  asks  the  Galatians, 
(who  had  not  otherwise  seen  this  sight  than  as  the  gospel- 
narrative  had  represented  it  to  them,)  who  had  bewitched 
them  that  they  should  not  obey,  before  whose  eyes  Christ 
had  been  set  forth  crucified  among  them  ;  intimating,  that 
he  could  not  account  them  less  than  bewitched,  whom  the 
representation  of  Christ  crucified  did  not  captivate  into  his 
obedience.  And  since,  in  his  crucifixion,  he  was  a  sacri- 
fice, i.  e.  placatory  and  reconciling,  and  that  reconciliations 
are  always  mutual,  of  both  the  conlending  parties  to  one 
another,  it  must  have  the  proper  influence  of  a  sacrifice 
immediately  upon  both,  and  as  well  mollify  men's  hearts 
towards  God,  as  procure  that  he  should  express  favourable 
inclinations  towards  them.  That  is,  that  all  enmity  should 
cease,  and  be  abolished  for  ever ;  that  wrongs  be  forgotten, 
rights  restored,  and  entire  friendship,  amity,  emd  free  con- 
verse, be  renewed,  and  be  made  perpetual.  All  which 
signifies,  that  by  this  means  the  spirits  of  men  be  so 
wrought  upon  that  they  render  back  to  God  his  own  tem- 
ple, most  willingly,  not  merely  from  an  apprehension  of 
his  right,  but  as  overcome  by  "his  love;  and  valuing  his 
presence  more  than  their  own  life.  Guilt  is  very  apt  lo  be 
always  jealous.  No  wonder  if  the  spirits  of  men,  conscious 
of  so  great  wrong  done  to  God,  (and  a  secret  consciousness 
there  may  be  even  where  there  are  not  very  distinct  and 
explicit  reflections  upon  the  case,)  be  not  very  easily  in- 
duced to  think  God  reconcilable.  And  while  he  is"  not 
thought  so,  what  can  be  expected  but  obstinate  aversion 
on  their  part  1  For  what  so  hardens  as  despair  1  Much 
indeed  might  be  collected,  by  deeply-considering  minds, 
of  a  propension,  on  God's  part,  to  peace  and  friendship, 
from  the  course  of  his  providence,  and  present  dispensation 
towards  the  world  ;  his  clemenc}-,  long-suffering,  and  most 
of  all  his  bounty,  towards  them.  These  lead  to  repent- 
ance in  their  own  natural  tendency  :  yet  are  thev  but  dull 
insipid  gospel  in  themselves,  to  men  drowned  in  sensualitv, 
buried  in  earthliness,  in  whom  the  Divine  Spirit  breathes 
not,  and  who  have  provoked  the  B.  Spirit  to  keep  at  a 
distance,  by  having  stupified  and  laid  asleep  the  consider- 
ing power  of  their  own  spirit.  Nor  are  these  the  usual 
means,  apart  and  by  themselves,  which  the  Spirit  of  Gxxl 
is  wont  to  work  by  upon  the  hearts  of  men.  as  experience 
and  observation  of  the  common  stale  of  the  pagan  world 
doth  sadly  testify,  and  without  the  concurrence  of  that 
blessed  Spirit,  even  the  most  apt  and  suitable  means  avail 
nothing. 

But  now  where  this  is  so  express  a  testification,  as  we 
find  in  the  gospel  of  Christ,  of  Grod's  willingness  to  be 
reconciled  ;  a  proclamation  distinctlv  made,  that  imports 
no  other  thing  but  srlory  to  God  in  the  highest,  peace  on 
earth,  and  good-will  towards  men  ;  (for  confirmation 
whereof,  the  Son  of  God  incarnate  is  represented  slain. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  II. 


and  offered  up  a  bloody  sacrifice  ;  and  that  we  might  see 
at  once  both  that  God  is  reconcilable,  by  the  highest  de- 
monstration imaginable,  and  how  or  upon  what  terms  he 
comes  to  be  so;)  no  place  for  reasonable  doubt  any  longer 
remains.  We  have  before  our  eyes  what,  by  the  wonder- 
ful strangeness  of  it,  should  engage  the  most  stupid  minds 
to  consider  the  matter;  what  ought  to  assure  the  most 
misgiving  doubtful  mind,  that  God  is  in  good  earnest, 
and^intends  no  mockery  or  deceit  in  his  offer  of  peace  ; 
and  what  ought  to  melt,  mollify,  and  overcome  the  most 
obdurate  heart.  Yea,  not  only  what  is  in  its  own  nature 
most  aj.t  to  work  towards  the  producing  these  happy  effects 
is  here  to  be  foimd,  but  wherewith  also  the  Spirit  of  grace 
is  ready  to  concur  and  co-work  ;  it  being  his  pleasure,  and 
most  lit  and  comely  in  itself,  that  he  should  choose  to 
unite  and  fall  in  with  the  aptest  means,  and  apply  him- 
self to  the  spirits  of  men  in  a  way  most  suitable  to  their 
own  natures,  and  most  likely  to  take  and  prevail  with 
the-n:  whereupon  the  Gospel  is  called  the  "ministration 
of  spirit  and  life,  and  the  power  of  God  to  salvation."  But 
that  this  gospel,  animated  by  that  mighty  and  good  Spirit, 
hath  not  universally  spread  itself  over  all  the  world,  only 
its  own  resolved  and  resisting  wickedness  is  the  faulty 
cause  ;  otherwise  there  had  been  gospel,  and  temples  raised 
by  it,  every  where. 

IX.    2.    This  original  primary  temple  hath  matter  of 
rational  inducement'in  it ;  as  it  gives  us  a  plain  represent- 
ation of  divine  holiness,  brightly  shining  in  human  nature. 
For  here  was  to  be  seen  a  most  pure,  serene,  dispassionate 
mind,  unpolluted  by  any  earthly  tincture,  inhabiting  an 
earthly  tabernacle,  like  our  own.     A  mind  adorned  with 
the  most  amiable,  lovely  virtues,  faith,  patience,  temper- 
ance, godliness  ;  full  of  all  righteousness,  goodness,  meek- 
ness, mercifulness,  sincerity,  humility ;  most  abstracted 
from  this  world,  unmoveably  intent  upon  what  had  refer- 
ence to  a  future  stale  of  things,  and  the  affairs  of  another 
yountiy ;  inflexible  by  the  blandishments  of  sense ;  not 
«pt  to  judge  by  the  sight  of  the  eye,  or  be  charmed  by  what 
•were  most  grateful  to  a  voluptuous  ear  ;  full  of  pity  towards 
a  wretched,  sinful  world,  compassionate  to  its  calamities, 
unprovoked  by  its  sharpest  injuries  ;  bent  upon  doing  the 
greatest  good,  and  prepared  to  the  suffering  of  whatsoever 
evil.  Here  was  presented  to  common  view  a  life  transacted 
agreeably  to  such  a  temper  of  mind  ;  of  one  invariable 
tenor  :  equal,  uniform,  never  unlike  itself,  or  disagreeing 
with  the  exactest  or  most  strict  rules.     Men  might  see  a 
God  was  come  down  to  dwell  among  them  ;  "  The  Bright- 
ness of  the  Father's  glory,  and  the  express  Image  of  his 
person  ;"  a  Deity  inhabiting  human  flesh  ;  for  such  pur- 
poses as  he  came  for,  could  not  be  supposed  to  carry  any 
more  becoming  appearance  than  he  did.    Here  was,  there- 
fore, an  exemplary  temple,  the  fair  and   lovely  pattern  of 
what  we  were  each  of  us  to  be  composed  and  formed 
unto :  imitating  us  (for  sweeter  insinuation  and  allurement) 
in  what  was  merely  natural,  and  inviting  us  to  imitate 
him  in  what  was  (in  a  communicable  sort)  supernatural 
and  divine.     Every  one  knows  how  great  is  the  power  of 
example,  and  may  collect  how  apt  a  method  this  was  to 
move  and  draw  the  spirits  of  men.   Had  only  precepts  and 
instructions  been  given  men,  how  they  were  to  prepare  and 
adorn  in  themselves  a  temple  for  the  living  God,  it  had, 
indeed,  been  a  great  vouchsafement ;  but  how  much  had 
it  fallen  short  of  what  the  present  state  of  man  did,  in 
point  of  means,  need,  and  call  for  !  How  great  a  defalca- 
tion were  it  from  the  gospel,  if  we  did  want  the  history  of 
the  life  of  Christ !    But  not  only  to  have  been  told  of  what 
materials  the  temple  of  God  must  consist,  but  to  have 
seen  them  composed  and  put  together  ;  to  have  opportu- 
nity of  viewing  the  beautiful  frame  in  every  part,  and  of 
beholding  the  lovely,  imitable  glory  of  the  whole,  and 
which  we  are  to  follow,  though  we  cannot  with  equal  steps; 
how  merciful  condescension,  and  how  great  an  advantage 
is  this  unto  us  !  We  have  here  a  state  of  entire  devoted- 
nesR  to  God  (the  principal  thing  in  the  constitution  of  his 
temple)  exemplified  before  our  eyes,  together  with  what 
was  most  suitable  besides  to  such  state.     Do  we  not  see 
how,  in  a  body  of  flesh,  one  may  be  subject  to  the  will  of 
God  ;  to  count  the  doing  of  it  our  meat  and  drink  1  When 
it  imposes  any  thing  grievous  to  be  suffered,  to  say,   "  Not 
luy  will,  but  thine  be  done"?"   How  in  all  things  to  seek 


not  our  own  glory,  but  his?  and  not  to  please  ourselves, 
but  him  "?  How  hereby  to  keep  his  blessed  presence  with 
us,  and  live  in  his  constant  converse  and  fellowship,  nevei 
to  be  left  alone  ;  but  to  have  him  ever  with  us,  as  alway.' 
aiming  to  do  the  things  that  please  him  1  Do  we  not  know 
how  to  be  tempted,  and  abstain  ;  injured,  and  forgive ; 
disobliged,  and  do  good ;  to  live  in  a  tumultuous  world, 
and  be  at  peace  within  ;  to  dwell  on  earth,  and  have  our 
conversation  in  heaven  1  We  see  all  this  hath  been  done, 
and  much  more  than  we  can  here  mention  :  and  by  so 
lively  a  representation  of  the  brightest  divine  excellences, 
beautifying  this  original  exemplary  temple,  we  have  a  two- 
fold most  considerable  advantage  towards  our  becoming 
such  ;  viz.  that  hereby  both  the  'possibility  and  the  loveliness 
of  a  temple  (the  thing  we  are  now  ourselves  to  design)  is 
here  represented  to  our  view  ;  by  the  former  whereof  we 
might  be  encouraged,  by  the  latter  allured,  unto  imitation ; 
that  working  upon  our  hope,  this  upon  our  desire  and  love, 
in  order  hereto. 

1.  The  possibility.   I  mean  it  not  in  the  strict  sense  only, 
as  sigfnifying  no  more  than  that  the  thing,  simply  consider- 
ed, implies  no  repugnance  in  itself,  nor  is  without  the  reach 
of  absolute  omnipotence ;  for  as  no  one  needs  to  be  told 
that  such  a  thing  is  (in  this  sense)  possible,  so  to  be  told 
it,  would  sigTiify  little  to  his  encouragement.     There  are 
many  things  in  this  sense  not  impossible,  whereof  no  man 
can,  however,  have  the  least  rational  hope  ;  as,  that  another 
world  may  shortly  be  made  ;  that  he  may  be  a  prince,  or 
a  great  man,  therein ;  with  a  thousand  the  like.     But  I 
mean  it  of  what  is  possible  to  divine  power,  {i.  e.  to  the 
grace  and  Spirit  of  God,)  now  ready  to  go  forth  in  a  way 
and  method  of  operation  already  stated  and  pitched  upon 
for  such  purposes.     For  having  the  representation  before 
our  eyes  of  this  original  Temple,  i.  e.  God  inhabiting  hu- 
man flesh  on  earth,  we  are  not  merely  to  consider  it  as  it 
is  in  itself,  and  to  look  upon  it  as  a  strange  thing,  or  as  a 
glorious  spectacle,  wherein  we  are  no  further  concerned, 
than  only  to  look  upon  it,  and  take  notice  that  there  is  or 
hath  been  seen  such  a  thing ;  but  we  are  to  consider  how 
it  came  to  pass,  and  with  what  design  it  was  that  such  a 
thing  should  be,  and  become  obvious  to  our  view.     Why 
have  we  such  a  sight  offered  us  1  or  what  imports  it  unto 
us1  And  when  we  have  informed  ourselves,  by  taking  the 
account  the  gospel  gives  us  of  this  matter,  and  viewed  the 
inscription  of  that  great  name,  Emmanuel,  by  wonderful 
contrivance,  inwrought  into  the  very  constitution  of  this 
temple,  we  will  then  find  this  to  be  intended  for  a  leading 
case ;  and  that  this  temple  was  meant  for  a  model  and 
platform  of  that  which  we  ourselves  are  to  become  ;  or, 
after  which  the  temple  of  God  in  us  must  be  composed 
and  formed  ;  and  so,  that  this  matter  is  possible  to  an 
ordinate,  divine  power,  even  to  that  mighty  Spirit  that 
resides  eminently  in  this  temple,  on  purpose  to  be  trans- 
mitted thence  to  us,  for  the  framing  of  us  to  the  likeness  of 
it ;  and  so  that  the  thing  is  not  merely  possible,  but  de- 
signed also,  viz.  that  as  he  was,  so  we  might  be  in  this 
world  :  (1  John  iv.)  unto  which  is  necessary  our  believing 
intuition  towards  him,  or  a  fiducial  acknowledgment  that 
this  Jesus  is  the  Son  of  God,  come  down  on  purpose  into 
human  flesh,  to  bring  about  a  union  between  God  and  us 
whereupon  that  union  itself  ensues  :  the  matter  is  brought 
about,  we  come  to  dwell  in  God,  and  he  in  us,  v.  15. 
And  this  wc  collect  and  conclude  from  hence,  that  we  find 
the  same  Spirit  working  and  breathing  in  us,  which  did  in 
him  ;  "  Hereby  know  we  that  we  dwell  in  him,  and  he  in 
us,  because  he  hath  given  us  of  his  Spirit,"  v.  13.     And 
though  it  was  an  unmeasured  fulness  of  this  Spirit  which 
dwelt  in  tins  primary  temple,  yet  we  are  taught  and  en- 
couraged hence  to  expect  that  a  sufficient  and  proportion- 
able measure  be  imparted  to  us,  that  we  may  appear  not 
altogether  unlike  or  unworthy  of  him  ;  that  this  temple 
and  ours  are  of  the  same  make,  and  "  both  he  that  sancti- 
fieth,  and  they  that  are  sanctified,  are  all  of  one ;"  that  we 
so  far  agree  with  our  original,  that  he  may  not  be  ashamed 
to  call  us  brethren,   Heb.  ii.     And  how  aptly  doth  this 
tend  to  excite  and  raise  our  hope  of  some  great  thing  to  be 
effected  in  this  kind  in  us,  when  we  have  the  matter  thus 
exemplified  already  before  our  eyes,  and  do  behold  the 
exact  and  perfect  model  according  whereto  we  ourselves 
are  to  be  framed.     Nor  doth  that  signify  a  little  to  the 


Jhap.  V. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


83 


drawing  of  our  wills,  or  the  engaging  us  to  a  consent  and 
co-operation,  as  the  under-bnilders,  in  the  work  of  this 
temple.  A  design  that  in  itself  appears  advantageous, 
needs  no  more  to  set  it  on  foot,  than  that  it  be  represented 
hopeful.  No  one,  that  understands  any  thing  of  the  nature 
of  man,  is  ignorant  of  the  power  of  hope.  This  one  engine 
moves  the  world,  and  keeps  all  men  busy.  Every  one 
soon  finds  his  present  state  not  perfectly  good,  and  hopes 
some  way  to  make  it  better  ;  otherwise,  the  world  were  a 
dull  scene.  Endeavour  would  languish,  or  rather  be  none 
at  all :  for  there  were  no  room  left  for  design,  or  a  rational 
enterprising  of  any  thing  ;  but  a  lazy  unconcerned  tnflmg, 
without  care  which  end  goes  forward,  and  with  an  utter 
indiflerency  whether  to  stir  or  sit  still.  Men  are  not,  in 
their  other  designs,  without  hope,  but  their  hope  is  placed 
upon  things  of  no  value  ;  and  when  they  have  gained  the 
next  thing  they  hoped  for  and  pursued,  they  are  as  far  stiU 
as  they  were  from  what  they  meant  that  for.  They  have 
obtained  their  nearer  end,  but  therein  have  mistook  their 
way;  which  they  designed  by  it,  to  their  further  end. 
When  they  have  attained  to  be  rich,  yet  they  are  not  happy; 
perhaps  much  further  from  it  than  before.  When  they 
have  preyed  upon  the  pleasure  they  had  in  chase,  they  are 
still  imsatisfied  ;  it  may  be,  guilty  reflections  turn  it  all  to 
gall  and  wormwood.  Many  such  disappointments  might 
make  them  consider,  at  length,  they  have  been  out  all  this 
while,  and  mistaken  the  whole  nature  and  kind  of  the 
good  that  must  make  them  happy.  They  may  come  to 
think  with  themselves,  Somewhat  is  surely  lacking,  not 
only  to  our  present  enjoyment,  but  to  our  very  design ; 
somewhat  it  must  be  without  the  compass  of  all  our  former 
thoughts,  wherein  our  satisfying  good  must  lie.  God  may 
come  into  their  minds  ;  and  they  may  cry  out,  Oh  !  that 
is  it ;  here  it  was  I  mistook,  and  had  forgot  myself.  Man 
once  had  a  God  !  and  that  God  had  his  temple,  wherein 
he  resided,  and  did  converse  with  man  :  hither  he  must 
be  invited  back.  Yea,  but  his  temple  lies  all  in  ruin,  long 
ago  deserted  and  disused,  forsaken  upon  provocation,  and 
with  just  resentment ;  the  ruin  to  be  repaired  by  no  mortal 
hand  ;  the  wrong  done  to  be  expatiated  by  no  ordinary  sa- 
crifice. All  this  imports  nothing  but  despair.  But  let 
now  the  Emmanuel  be  brought  in ;  this  origimal  Temple 
be  offered  to  view,  and  the  design  and  intent  of  it  be  un- 
folded and  laid  open  ;  and  what  a  spring  of  hope  is  here  ! 
Or  what  can  now  be  wanting  to  persuade  a  wretched  soul 
of  God's  willingness  to  return  7  Or,  being  now  sensible 
of  his  misery  by  his  absence,  to  make  it  willing  of  his  re- 
turn ;  yea,  and  to  contribute  the  utmost  endeavour  that 
all  things  may  be  prepared  and  put  into  due  order  for  his 
reception  1  Or  if  any  thing  should  be  still  wanting,  it  is 
but  Avhat  may  more  work  upon  desire,  as  well  a,s  beget 
hope  :  and  to  this  purpose,  a  narrower  view  of  this  origi- 
nal Temple  also  serves  ;  that  is,  it  not  only  shows  the  pos- 
sibility, but  gives  us  opportunity  to  contemplate, 

2.  The  loveliness  too  of  such  a  temple.  For  here  is  the 
fairest  representation  that  ever  this  world  had,  or  that 
could  be  had,  of  this  most  delectable  object.  The  Divine 
holiness  incarnate  did  never  shine  so  bright.  And  we  may 
easily  apprehend  the  great  advantage  of  having  so  lively 
and  perfect  a  model  set  before  us  of  what  we  are  to  design 
and  aim  at.  Rules  and  precepts  could  never  have  afibrd- 
ed  so  full  a  description,  or  have  furnished  us  with  so  per- 
fect an  idea.  He  that  goes  to  build  a  house,  must  have 
the  project  formed  in  his  mind  before  ;  and  (as  hath  been 
said)  he  is  to  make  a  material  hou.se  of  an  immaterial.  So 
here,  we  may  say  the  real  house  is  t-o  be  built  out  of  the 
mental  or  notional  one.  It  is  true  indeed,  when  we  have 
got  into  our  minds  the  true  and  full  idea  or  model  of  this 
temple,  our  greatest  difficult)^  is  not  yet  over:  how  happy 
were  it,  if  the  rest  of  our  work  would  as  soon  be  done ! 
And  our  hearts  would  presently  obey  our  light.  If  they 
were  ductile,  and  easy  to  )aeld,  and  receive  the  stamp  and 
impression  that  would  correspond  to  a  well  enlightened 
mind ;  if  we  could  presently  become  conform  and  like  to 
the  notions  we  have  of  what  we  should  be :  what  excel- 
lent creatures  should  we  appear,  if  on  the  sudden  our  spi- 
rits did  admit  the  habitual,  fixed  frame  of  holiness,  where- 
of we  sometimes  have  the  idea  framed  in  our  minds!  But 
though  to  have  that  model  truly  formed  in  our  under- 
standings be  not  sufficient,  it  is  however  necessary:  and 


although  our  main  work  is  not  immediately  done  by  it,  it 
can  never  be  done  without  it.  Truth  is  the  means  of  ho- 
liness :  "  Sanctify  them  through  thy  truth."  John  xvii.  17. 
God  hath  chosen  us  to  salvation,  through  sanctification  of 
the  Spirit  and  beliefof  the  truth,  2Thess.  ii.  3.  Therefore 
it  is  our  great  advantage  to  have  the  most  entire  and  full 
notion  that  may  he,  of  that  temper  and  frame  of  spirit  we 
should  be  of.  When  the  charge  was  given  Moses  of  com- 
posing the  tabernacle,  (that  moveable  temple,)  he  had  the 
perfect  pattern  of  it  shown  him  in  the  mount.  And  to  re- 
ceive the  very  notion  aright  of  this  spiritual  living  tem- 
ple, requires  a  some-way  prepared  mind,  purged  from  vi- 
cious prejudice  and  perverse  thoughts,  possessed  with  dis- 
like of  our  former  pollutions  and  deformities ;  antecedent 
whereto  is  a  more  general  view  of  that  frame  whereimto 
we  are  to  be  composed,  and  then  a  more  distinct  represen- 
tation is  consequent  thereon.  As  we  find  the  prophet  is  di- 
rected first  to  show  the  people  the  house,  that  they  might 
be  ashamed  :  whereupon  it  follows,  if  they  be  ashamed  of 
that  they  have  done,  then  he  must  show  them  the  form  of 
the  house,  and  the  fashion  thereof,  and  the  goings  out 
thereof,  and  the  comings  in  thereof,  and  all  the  ordinances 
thereof,  Ezek.  xliii.  10,  11.  How  much  would  it  conduce 
to  the  work  and  service  of  God's  temple  in  us,  if  upon 
our  having  had  some  general  intimation  of  his  gracious 
propensions  towards  us,  to  repair  our  ruins,  and  restore 
our  forlorn,  decayed  state,  we  begin  to  lament  after  him, 
and  conceive  inward  resentments  of  the  impurities  and 
desolations  of  our  souk :  and  shall  now  have  the  distinct 
representation  set  before  our  eyes,  of  that  glorious  work- 
manship which  he  means  to  express  in  our  renovation ! 
How  taking  and  transporting  a  sight  will  this  be  to  a  soul 
that  is  become  vile  and  loathsome  in  its  own  eyes,  and 
weary  of  being  as  without  God  in  the  world !  But  now, 
wherein  shall  he  be  understood  to  give  us  so  exact  an  ac- 
count of  his  merciful  intendments  and  design  in  this  mat- 
ter, as  b)'  letting  us  see  how  his  glory  shone  in  his  own 
incarnate  Son,  his  express  Image  ;  and  then  signifying  his 
pleasure  and  purpose  to  have  us  conformed  to  the  same 
image.  This  is  his  most  apt  and  efficacious  method,  when 
he  goes  about  to  raise  his  new  creation,  and  erect  his  inner 
temple ;  (as  it  was,  in  some  respect,  his  way,  when  he 
made  his  first  great  outer  temple  of  the  M'orld ;")  "God, 
that  commanded  light  to  shine  out  of  darkness,  haln  shined 
in  our  hearts,  to  give  the  light  of  the  knowledge  of  the 
glory  of  God  in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ,"  2  Cor.  iv.  That 
glory  shines  with  greatest  advantage  to  our  transforma- 
tion, in  the  face  or  aspect  of  Emmanuel.  When  we  set 
our  faces  that  way,  and  our  eye  meets  his,  we  put  ourselves 
into  a  purposed  posture  of  intuition,  and  do  steadily  look 
to  Jesus  ;  "  when  we,  with  open  face,  behold  as  in  a  glass 
the  glory  of  the  Lord,  we  are  changed  from  glory  to  glory, 
as  by  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord,"  2  Cor.  iii.  His  very  Spirit 
enters  with  those  vital  beams;  enters  at  our  eye,  and  is 
thence  transfused  through  our  whole  soul. 

The  seed  and  generative  principle  of  the  new  creature 
is  truth  ;  "  Being  born  again,  not  of  corruptible  seed,  but 
incorruptible,  the  word  of  God,"  1  Peter  i.  '23.  We  must 
understand  it  of  practical  truth,  or  that  which  serves  to 
show  what  we  are  to  be  and  do,  (ck.  ii.  1,  "2,  3,  4.)  in  our 
new  and  regenerate  state.  Hereby  souls  are  begotten  to 
God,  hereby  they  live  and  grow,  hereby  they  come  and 
join  as  living  stones  to  the  living  Corner-stone,  in  the  com- 
position of  this  spiritual  house :  as  we  see  the  series  of 
discourse  runs  in  this  context.  Now  we  have  this  practical 
truth,  not  only  exhibited  in  aphorisms  and  maxims  in  the 
word,  but  we  have  it  exemplified  in  the  life  of  Christ.  And 
when  the  great  renovating  work  is  to  be  done,  the  old  man 
to  be  put  off,  the  new  man  to  be  put  on,  the  spiric  of  our 
mind  to  be  renewed,  our  business  is  to  learn  Christ,  and 
the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus  :  (Eph.  iv.  20,  21,  23,  24.)  so  is 
accomplished  the  formation  of  that  new  man  that  is  after 
God.  And  when  we  become  his  (second)  M-orkmauship, 
we  are  created  in  Christ  Jesus  imto  good  works  ;  caught 
into  union  with  that  Spirit  which  showed  itself  in  the 
whole  course  of  his  conversation  on  earth,  and  is  gradually 
to  work  and  form  us  to  an  imitation  of  him.  Whereunto 
we  are  not  formed  by  mere  looking  on,  or  by  our  own  con- 
templation only  of  his  lite  and  actions,  on  the  one  hand: 
(our  rigid  hardness  and  ilitf  aversion  to  such  a  temper  and 


84 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  n. 


course  a^  his  was,  is  not  so  easily  altered  and  overcome  :) 
nor,  on  the  other  hand,  is  our  looking  on  useless  and  in 
vain,  as  if  we  were  to  be  formed,  like  mere  stones,  into 
dead  unmoving  statues,  rather  than  living  temples  ;  or  as 
if  his  Spirit  were  to  do  that  work  upon  us,  by  a  violent 
hand,  while  we  know  nothing  of  the  matter,  nor  any  way 
comply  to  the  design.  But  the  work  must  be  done  by  the 
holding  up  the  representation  of  this  primary  temple  before 
our  eyes,  animated  and  replenished  with  divine  life  and 
glory,  as  our  pattern,  and  the  type  by  which  we  are  to  be 
formed,  till  our  hearts  be  captivated  and  won  to  the  love 
and  liking  of  snch  a  state  ;  i.  e.  to  be  so  united  with  God, 
so  devoted  to  him,  so  stamped  and  impressed  with  all  imi- 
table  Godlike  excellences,  as  he  was  :  we  are  to  be  so  ena- 
moured herewith,  as  to  be  impatient  of  remaining  what 
we  were  before.  And  such  a  view  contributed  directly 
hereto,  and  in  a  way  suitable  to  our  natures.  Mere  tran- 
sient discourses  of  virtue  and  goodness,  seem  cold  and  un- 
savoury things  to  a  soul  drenched  in  sensuality,  sunk  into 
deep  forgetfulness  of  God,  and  filled  with  aversion  to  ho- 
liness ;  but  the  tract  and  course  of  a  life  evenly  transacted, 
in  the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  that  is  throughout 
uniform,  and  constantly  agreeablelo  itself,  is  apt,  by  often 
repeated  insinuations,  (as  drops  wear  stones,)  insensibly  to 
recommend  itself  as  amiable,  and  gain  a  liking  even  with 
them  that  were  most  opposite  and  disaffected.  For  the 
nature  of  man,  in  its  most  degenerate  state,  is  not  wholly 
destitute  of  the  notions  of  virtue  and  goodness,  nor  of  some 
faint  approbation  of  them.  The  names  of  sincerity,  hu- 
mility, sobriety,  meekness,  are  of  better  sound  and  import, 
even  with  the  worst  of  men,  than  of  deceit,  pride,  riot,  and 
wrathfulness  :  nor  are  they  wont  to  accuse  any  for  those 
former  things,  under  their  own  names.  Only  when  they 
•see  the  broken  and  more  imperfect  appearances  of  theni, 
and  that  they  are  rather  otTered  at  than  truly  and  con- 
stantly represented  in  practice ;  this  begets  a  prejudice, 
and  the  pretenders  to  thein  become  suspected  of  hypocrisy, 
or  a  conceited  singularity,  and  are  not  censured  as  not 
being  grossly  evil,  but  rather  that  they  are  not  thoroughly 
good.  But  when  so  unexceptionable  a  course  is  in  con- 
stant view  as  our  Saviour's  was,  this  procures,  even  from 
the  ruder  vulgar,  an  acknowledgment  he  doth  all  things 
well,  and  carries  that  lustre  and  awful  majesty,  as  to  com- 
mand a  veneration  and  respect;  yea,  is  apt  to  allure  those 
that  more  narrowly  observe  into  a  real  love  both  of  him 
and  his  way  ;  especially  when  it  hath  such  a  close  and  is- 
sue, as  appears  no  way  imworthy  of  himself,  or  his  former 
pretensions.  But  all  being  taken  together,  resolves  into 
the  plainest  demonstration  of  most  sincere  devotedness  to 
God,  and  good-will  to  men  ;  upon  which  the  great  stress  is 
laid :  "  And  I,  if  I  be  lift  up,  will  draw  all  men  unto  me." 
And  how  great  a  thing  is  done  towards  our  entire  com- 
pliance with  the  Redeemer's  design  of  making  us  tem- 
ples to  the  living  God,  as  he  himself  was,  Avhen  he,  under 
that  very  notion,  appears  amiable  in  onr  eyes !  How  na- 
tural and  easy  is  imitation  unto  love  !  All  the  powers  of 
the  soul  are  now,  in  the  most  natural  way,  excited  and  set 
on  work ;  and  we  shall  not  easily  be  induced  to  satisfy 
ourselves,  or  admit  of  being  at  rest,  till  we  attain  a  state, 
■with  the  loveliness  whereof  our  hearts  are  once  taken 
and  possessed  beforehand.  But  nothing  of  all  this  is  said 
with  design,  nor  hath  any  tendency,  to  diminish  or  detract 
from  that  mighty  power  of  the  blessed  Spirit  of  God,  by 
whom  men  become  willing  of  the  return  of  the  Divine 
presence  into  its  ancient  residence,  and,  in  subordina- 
tion, active  towards  it ;  but  rather  to  magnify  the  excel- 
lency of  that  wisdom,  which  conducts  all  the  exertions 
and  operations  of  that  power  so  suitably  to  the  subject  to 
be  wrought  upon,  and  the  ends  and  purposes  to  be  effected 
thereby. 

Upon  the  whole,  the  setting  up  of  this  original  temple, 
inscribed  with  the  great  Emmanvel,  or  the  whole  consti- 
tution of  Christ  the  mediator,  hath,  we  see,  set  a  very  ap- 
parent aptitude- and  rich  sufficiency  in  its  kind,  to  the  com- 
posing of  things  between  God  and  men  ;  the  replenishing 
this  desolate  world  with  temples  aa:ain  every  where,  and 
those  with  the  Divine  presence;  both  as  there  was  enough 
m  it  to  procure  remission  of  sin,  enough  to  procure  the 
emission  of  the  Holv  Spirit:  an  immense  fulness  both  of 
righteousness  and  Spirit ;  of  righteousness  for  the  former 


purpose,  and  of  Spirit  for  the  latter,  and  both  of  these,  in 
distinct  ways,  capable  of  being  imparted;  because  the 
power  of  imparling  them  was  upon  such  terms  obtained, 
as  did  satisfy  the  malediction  and  curse  of  the  violated 
law,  which  must  otherwise  have  everlastingly  Avithheld 
both  from  apostate,  offending  creatures.  It  is  not  the 
righteousness  of  God,  as  such,  that  can  make  a  guilty  crea- 
ture guiltless,  (which  must  rather  oblige  him  still  to  hold 
him  guilty,)  or  the  Spirit  of  God,  as  such,  that  can  make 
him  holy.  Here  is  a  full  fountain,  but  sealed  and  shut  up; 
and  what  are  we  the  better  for  that  1  But  it  is  the  right- 
eousness and  Spirit  of  Emmanuel,  God  with  us ;  of  him 
who  was  made  sin  for  us,  that  we  might  be  made  the 
righteousness  of  God  in  him ;  and  who  was  made  a  curse 
for  us,  that  we  might  have  the  blessing  of  the  promi.sed 
Spirit:  otherwise,  there  were  not  in  him  a  sufficiency  to 
answer  the  exigency  of  the  case ;  but  as  the  matter  is, 
here  is  abundant  sufficiency  in  both  respects,  as  we  have 
already  seen.  And  therefore,  the  only  thing  that  remains 
to  be  shown  herein, — is  the  necessity  and  requisiteness  of 
such  means  as  this,  unto  this  end.  For  Avhen  w^e  take  no- 
tice of  so  great  and  so  rare  a  thing  as  an  Emmanuel,  set 
up  in  the  world  ;  and  find  by  this  solemn  constitution  of 
him,  by  the  condition  of  his  person,  his  accomplishments, 
performances,  sufferings,  acquisitions,  the  powers  and  vir- 
tues belonging  to  him,  that  everj'  thing  hath  so  apt  an  as- 
pect, and  is  so  accommodate  to  the  restitution  of  lost  man, 
and  of  God's  temple  in  and  with  him ;  we  cannot  but  con- 
fess, here  is  a  contrivance  worthy  of  God,  sufficient  for  its 
end.  So  that  the  work  needs  not  fail  of  being  done,  if  in 
this  way  it  prove  not  to  be  overdone ;  or  if  the  apparatus 
be  not  greater  than  was  needful  for  the  intended  end  ;  or 
that  the  same  purposes  might  not  have  been  effected  at  an 
easier  rate.  I  design  therefore  to  speak  distinctly  and  se- 
verally of  the  necessity  of  this  course,  in  reference,  1.  To 
the  remission  of  sin.  2.  To  the  emission  or  communica- 
tion of  the  Spirit :  and  do  purposely  reserve  several  things 
concerning  this  latter,  to  be  discoursed  under  this  head: 
after  the  necessity  of  this  same  course  for  the  former  pur- 
pose (Avherein  the  latter  also  hath  its  foundation)  hath 
been  considered. 


CHAPTER  VI, 

The  nece^nity  of  ttiis  constihition  of  Emmanuel  to  the  erecting  God's  temple  in 
the  world.  The  discoursing  of  this  matter,  proper  on  this  occasion.  As  to 
God's  part  herein,  tirst,  proposed  to  show,  hoth  that  a  recompense  was  ne- 
cessarj'  to  be  made,  and  that  it  could  be  made  no  other  way.  Towards  the 
evincing  the  ff)rmer,  sundry  things  gradually  laid  down.  The  point  itselfar- 
gued,  by  considering  the  injury  done  to  the  divine,  with  m  hat  we  may  sup- 
pose done  to  a  human  government ;  where  repentance  not  constantly 
thought  asufficient  recompence  ;  othenvise,  a  penitent  delinquent  was  never 
to  be  punished  Difference  between  God's  pardon  and  man's  in  most  usual 
cases.  Recompense  fijr  wrong  done  to  government,  quite  another  thing 
from  what  answers  the  appetite  of  private  revenge.  Expressions  that  seem 
to  import  it  in  Ciod,  how  to  be  understood.  Sliown  that  they  import  no 
more  than  a  constant  will  so  far  to  punish  offences,  as  is  necessary  for  the 
asserting  and  preserving  the  righ'^  and  dignity  of  his  government.  So  much 
most  agreeable,  and  necessarily  belonging  to  the  perfection  of  the  divine  na- 
ture. And  if  the  justice  of  a  human  government  requires  it,  of  the  divine 
much  more. 

It  may  here  perhaps  be  said.  Why  might  not  the  matter 
have  been  otherwise  brought  about  ?  Or,  might  not  God 
of  his  mere  sovereignty  have  remitted  the  wrong  done  to 
him,  without  any  such  atonement ;  and,  upon  the  same  ac- 
count, have  sent  forth  his  Spirit  to  turn  men's  hearts'? 
And  if  that  must  work  by  arguments  and  rational  persua- 
sives, w^ere  there  not  others  to  have  been  used,  sufficient 
to  this  purpose,  though  the  Son  of  God  had  never  become 
man,  or  died  upon  this  account"?  To  use  means  exceeding 
the  value  of  the  end,  may  seem  as  unsuitable  to  the  divine 
wisdom,  as  not  to  have  used  sufficient.  And  who  can 
think  the  concernments  of  silly  worms  impossible  to  be 
managed,  and  brought  to  a  fair  and  happy  issue,  without 
so  great  things  as  the  incarnation  and  death  of  God's  own 
Son  ? 
Wherefore  we  proceed  to  show,  as  was  promised, 
2.  The  necessity,  as  the  case  stood,  that  this  course  should 
be  taken  for  this  end.  No  man  can  here  think  we  mean 
that  the  end  itself  was  otherwise  necessary,  than  as  the 
freest  love  and  good- will  made  it  so ;  but  /A«i  sup- 
posed, we  are  only  to  evince  that   tliis  course  was  the 


Chap.  VI. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


83 


necessary  means  to  attain  it.  And  as  to  this,  if  indeed 
that  modesty  and  reverence  were  every  where  to  be  found, 
wherewith  it  would  become  dim-sighted  man  to  judge  of 
the  ways  of  God,  any  inquiry  of  this  kind  might  be  for- 
borne ;  and  it  would  be  enough  to  put  us  out  of  doubt, 
that  this  WELs  the  most  equal  and  fittest  way,  that  we  see 
it  is  the  way  which  God  hath  taken.  But  that  cross  temper 
hath  foimd  much  place  in  the  world,  rather  to  dispute 
God's  methods,  than  comport  with  them,  in  an  obedient 
thankful  compliance  and  subserviency  to  their  intended 
ends.  And  how  deeply  is  it  to  be  resented,  that  so  mo- 
mentous a  thing  in  the  religion  of  Christians,  and  that 
above  all  other  should  be  the  subject  and  incentive  of  ad- 
miring, devout  thoughts  and  affections,  should  ever  have 
been  made  intricate  and  perplexed  by  disputation  !  That 
the  food  of  life  should  have  been  filled  with  thorns  and 
gravel !  And  what  was  most  apt  to  beget  good  blood,  and 
turn  all  to  strength,  vigour,  and  spirit,  should  be  rendered 
the  matter  of  a  disease  !  This  can  never  enough  be  taken 
to  heart.  What  complaints  might  the  tortured,  famished 
church  of  Christ  send  up  against  the  ill  instruments  of  so 
great  a  mischief!  "  Lord !  we  asked  bread,  and  they  gave 
us  a  stone.  They  have  spoiled  the  provisions  of  thy  house. 
Our  pleasantest  fare,  most  delicious  and  strengthening 
viands,  they  have  made  tasteless  and  unsavoury."  What 
expostulations  might  it  use  with  them !  "  Will  you  not  let 
us  live?  Can  nothing  in  our  religion  be  so  sacred,  so  im- 
portant, as  to  escape  your  perverting  hands  V 

The  urgency  of  the  case  itself  permits  not  that  this 
matter  be  silently  passed  over :  a  living  temple  needs  the 
apt  means  of  nourishment  and  growth ;  and  it  must  be 
nourished  and  grow,  by  what  is  suitable  to  its  constitu- 
tion :  unto  which  nothing  is  more  inward,  than  the  laying 
this  "  living  Corner-stone." 

We  will  acknowledge  the  reasons  of  divers  things  in 
God's  determinations  and  appointments  may  be  very  deeply 
hidden,  not  only  from  our  more  easy  view,  but  our  most 
diligent  search:  where  they  are,  his  telling  us  the  matter 
is  so,  or  so,  is  reason  enough  to  us  to  believe  with  reve- 
rence. But  when  they  offer  themselves,  we  need  not  be 
afraid  to  see  them ;  and  when  the  matter  they  concern  is 
brought  in  question,  should  be  afraid  of  being  so  treache- 
rous as  not  to  produce  them. 

Now  that  it  was  requisite  this  temple  should  be  so  found- 
ed as  hath  been  said,  is  a  matter  not  only  not  repugnant 
to  the  common  reason  of  man,  but  which  fairly  approves 
itself  thereunto:  that  is,  so  far  as  that  though  it  exceed 
all  human  thought,  the  great  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth, 
infinitely  injured  by  the  sin  of  man,  should  so  wonderfully 
condescend ;  yet  w^hen  his  good  pleasure  is  plainly  ex- 
pressed, touching  the  end,  that  nothing  could  be  so  appa- 
rently congruous,  so  worthy  of  himself,  so  accommodate  to 
his  design,  as  the  way  which  he  hath  avowedly  taken  to 
bring  it  about.  That  it  might  be  brought  about,  (as  in  all 
reconciliations,  and  as  hath  been  said  concerning  this,)  a 
compliance  was  necessary,  and  a  mutual  yielding  of  both 
the  distanced  parties;  i.  e.  that  God  consent  to  return  to 
his  desolate  temple,  and  that  man  consent  or  be  willing  he 
should. 

We  have  sho'mi  that  the  constitution  and  use  of  the 
original  temple,  whereof  the  account  hath  been  given,  was 
sufficient,  and  aptly  conducing  unto  both.  Now  being  to 
show  wherein  they  were  also  requisite  or  necessary  to  the 
one  and  the  other,  we  must  acknowledge  them  not  alike 
immediately  necessary  to  each  of  these  ;  and  must  there- 
fore divide  the  things  in  order  whereto  this  course  was 
taken,  and  speak  of  them  severall}'.  Nor  are  they  to  be 
so  divided,  as  though  the  procurement  of  God's  return  for 
his  part,  and  of  man's  admitting  thereof  for  his  part,  were 
throughout  to  be  severally  considered ;  for  God's  part  is 
larger  than  man's,  and  some  way  runs  into  it :  he  is  not 
only  to  give  his  own  consent,  but  to  gain  man's  ;  and  be- 
sides his  own  willing  return  to  repossess  this  his  temple, 
he  is  to  make  man  willing  also  :  or  rather  that  return  or 
repossession,  rightly  understood,  will  be  found  to  include 
the  making  of  man  willing ;  i.  e.  in  that  very  return  and 
repossession,  he  is  to  put  forth  that  measure  of  power  and 
influence,  by  which  he  may  be  made  so.    All  this  is  Gtod's 

a  This  2d  head  cornea  to  be  diacouraed  Chap.  vtii.  Sect.  1,  &c. 

10 


part,  which  he  doth  graciously  undertake,  and  ■without 
which  nothing  could  be  effected  in  this  matter.  But  then 
because  man  is  to  be  wrought  upon  in  a  way  suitable  to 
his  reasonable  nature,  he  is  to  have  such  things  offered  to 
his  consideration,  as  in  their  own  nature  tend  to  persuade 
him;  and  which  that  power  and  spirit,  to  be  put  forth, 
may  use  as  proper  means  to  that  purpose.  Now  it  is  man's 
part  to  consider  such  things,  and  consent  thereupon.  Our 
business  here,  therefore,  is  to  show  how  necessary  the  con- 
stitution of  Emmanuel  was,  chiefly  and  principally  as  to 
what  now  appears  to  be  God's  part:  and  afterward,  to  say 
somewhat  as  to  our  own. — To  the  former,  it  was  requisite 
that  the  original  Temple,  Emmanuel,  should  be  set  up, 
and  be  used  to  such  immediate  purposes  as  have  been  ex- 
pressed ;  to  the  latter,  was  requisite  the  declaration  hereof. 
— To  the  one,  that  such  a  constitution  should  be  ;  to  the 
other,  that  it  be  made  known  to  man. 

II.  First,  then,  in  reference  to  the  former,  this  constitution 
was  necessarj",  that  so  there  might  be  a  sufficient  means 
for  the  previous  expiation  of  the  offence  done  to  the 
majesty  of  God  ;  or  that  the  injurious  violation  of  his  sa- 
cred rights  might  be  sufficiently  recompensed.  And  here, 
more  particularly,  two  things  are  to  be  cleared ;  fHrst, 
That  in  order  to  God's  return,  it  was  necessar}' such  a  full 
recompense  should  be  made  him  ;  secondly,  That  it  could 
not  be  full  any  other  way  than  this,  by  Emmanuel.''  In 
discoursing  of  which  things,  it  is  not  intended  to  go  in  the 
usual  way  of  controversy,  to  heap  up  a  great  number  of 
arguments,  and  discuss  particularly  ever}-  little  cavil  that 
maybe  raised  on  the  contrary  part ;  but  plainly  to  offer 
such  considerations  as  may  lend  to  clear  the  truth,  and 
rather  prevent  than  formally  answer  objections  against  it. 

Wherefore  we  say,  (1.)  it  was  necessary  God's  return 
and  vouchsafement  of  his  gracious  restored  presence  to 
man,  as  his  temple,  should  be  upon  teims  of  recompense 
made  him  (or  as  certain  to  be  made)  for  the  indignity  and 
wrong  done  in  the  former  violation  thereof. 

We  do  not  here  need  to  be  curious  in  inquiring,  whether 
the  consideration  of  this  recompense  to  be  made,  had 
influence  on  the  gracious  purpose  of  God  in  this  matter, 
or  only  on  the  execution  thereof.  Nor  indeed  hath  the 
doubt  anyproper  ground  in  the  present  case,  which,  where 
it  hath  disquieted  the  minds  of  any,  seems  to  have  pro- 
ceeded from  our  too  great  aptness  to  measure  God  by 
ourselves,  and  prescribe  to  him  the  same  methods  we  our- 
selves are  wont  to  observe.  That  is,  we  find  it  is  our  way, 
when  we  have  a  design  to  bring  about,  upon  which  we  are 
intent,  first  to  propound  the  end  to  ourselves  which  we 
would  have  effected,  then  to  deliberate  and  consult  by 
what  means  to  effect  it:  whereupon,  we  assign  to  the 
blessed  God  the  same  course.  But  to  him,  all  his  works 
are  known  from  the  beginning  of  the  world  ;  and  he  ever 
beheld,  at  one  view,  the  whole  tract  and  course  of  means 
whereby  any  thing  is  to  be  done,  which  he  intends  with 
the  intended  end  itself  So  that  we  have  no  reason  to  affix 
to  him  any  thought  or  purpose  of  favour  towards  the  sinful 
sons  of  men,  ancienter  or  more  early  than  his  prospect  of 
the  way  wherein  that  favourable  purpose  was  to  be  accom- 
plished. 

Nor  again  can  any  act  or  purpose  of  his  towards  his 
creatures  be  otherwise  necessary  to  him,  than  from  the 
essential  rectitude  of  the  counsels  of  his  own  will :  the 
determinations  whereof  are  such  as  might  not  have  been, 
or  might  have  been  otherwise,  where  the  thing  determined 
was,  by  those  measures,  a  matter  of  indifferency.  Where 
it  was  not  so,  thej'  are  (however  necessary,  yet  also)  in 
that  sense  most  free ;  as  they  are  directed  and  approved  by 
his  infinite  wisdom,  and  attended  with  that  complacency 
which  naturally  accompanies  any  act  or  purpose  that  is  in 
itself  most  exceptionably  congruous,  just,  and  good. 

It  may  furthermore  be  truly  said,  that  nothing  ought  to 
be  reckoned  possible  to  him,  upon  the  agreement  only 
which  it  holds  lo  some  one  attribute  of  his,  considered 
singly  and  apart  from  all  the  rest :  as,  for  instan<"e.  in  what 
is  next  our  present  case,  to  forgive  all  the  sins  that  ever 
were  committed  against  him,  without  insisting  upon  any 
compensation,  were  vainly  alleged  to  be  correspondent  to 
boundless  sovereign  mercy,  if  it  will  not  as  well  accord 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  II. 


with  infinite  wisdom,  justice,  and  holiness;  as  it  would 
be  imreasonably  said  to  be  agreeable  enough  to  him,  to 
thr&w  all  the  creatures  that  never  offended  him  mto  an 
endless  nothingness,  in  consideration  only  of  the  abso- 
luteness of  his  power  and  dominion.  But  whatsoever  he 
can  do,  must  be  understood  to  be  agreeable  to  a  Being 
absolutely  and  every  way  perfect. 

Moreover  we  add,  that  whatsoever  is  most  congruous 
and  fit  for  him  to  do,  that  is  truly  necessary  to  him :  he 
cannot  swerve  in  the  least  tittle,  we  will  not  only  say  from 
what  strict  and  rigorous  justice  doth  exact  and  challenge, 
but  also  not  from  what  is  requisite,  under  the  notion  of 
most  comely  and  decent.  Hath  it  been  said  of  a  mortal 
man,  that  it  was  as  easy  to  alter  the  course  of  the  sun,  as 
to  turn  him  from  the  path  of  righteousness  1  We  must 
suppose  it  of  the  eternal  God  equally  impossible  that  he 
should  be  diverted  from,  or  ever  omit  to  do,  what  is  most 
seemly,  becoming,  and  worthy  of  himself  In  such  things 
wherein  he  is  pleased  to  be  our  pattern,  what  we  know  to 
be  oar  own  duty,  we  must  conclude  is  his  nature :  we 
ought  to  be  found  neither  in  an  unjust  act  or  omission,  nor 
undecent  one;  and  he  cannot.  And  if  it  belong  to  us  to 
do  what  is  good,  it  more  necessarily  belongs  to  him  to  do 
what  is  best;  i.  e.  in  all  things  that  are  any  way  capable 
of  coming  under  a  moral  consideration :  for  as  in  other 
matters  it  is  permitted  to  us  to  act  arbitrarily,  so  there  is 
nothing  hinders  but  he  may  much  more.  Wherefore  it  is 
not  hence  to  be  thought  that  therefore  it  was  necessary  this 
imiverse  and  every  thing  in  it  should  have  been  made  as 
perfect  as  thev  could  be ;  as  if  we  ourselves  will  make  any 
thing  for  our  own  use,  nothing  obliges  us  to  be  so  very 
curious  about  it,  as  that  it  may  be  as  neat  and  accurate  as 
we  can  devise  to  make  it ;  it  will  sufhce  if  it  be  such  as 
will  serve  our  turn.  And  indeed,  in  the  works  of  nature, 
it  would  have  been  less  worthy  of  God  to  have  expressed 
a  scrupulous  curiosity  that  nothing  might  ever  fall  out  be- 
sides one  fixed  rule,  (especially  in  a  state  of  things  de- 
signed for  no  long  continuance,)  that  should  extend  to  all 
imaginable  particularities ;  as  that  all  men  should  be  of 
the  comeliest  stature,  all  faces  of  the  most  graceful  aspect, 
with  a  thousand  the  like.  But  in  matters  wherein  there 
can  l>e  better  and  worse,  in  a  moral  sense,  it  seems  a  prin- 
ciple of  the  plainest  evidence,  that  the  blessed  God  cannot 
but  do  that  which  is  simply  the  best ;  yea,  while  a  neces- 
sity is  upon  us  not  only  to  mind  things  that  are  true,  and 
just,  and  pure,  but  also  that  are  lovely  and  of  good  report, 
we  have  no  cause  to  doubt,  but  whatsoever  is  comely,  and 
beseeming  his  most  perfect  excellences,  is  an  eternal,  in- 
dispensable law  to  him:  wherefore  it  is  not  enough  to  con- 
sider, in  the  present  case,  what  it  were  strictly  not  unjust 
for  him  to  do,  but  what  is  fit  and  becoming  so  excellent 
and  glorious  a  majesty  as  his. 

Nor  now  can  it  be  a"  doubt,  but  that  he  only  is  the  compe- 
tent Judge  of  what  is  becoming  and  worthy  of  himself;  or 
what  is  most  congruous  and  fit  in  itself  to  be  done ;  (Isa. 
xl.)  "  Who  hath'directed  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord,  or  being 
his  counsellor,  hath  instructed  him  !"  &c.  Surely  the  best 
reason  we  can  exercise  in  this  case,  is  to  think  that  course 
reasonable  which  we  find  God  hath  chosen,  although  we 
had  no  insight  at  all  into  the  matter.  There  are  many 
constitutions  which  we  have  occasion  to  observe  in  the 
course  of  God's  government  over  the  world,  which,  by  the 
constancy  of  them,  we  have  ground  to  think  founded  in 
indispensable  necessity;  though  the  reasons  whereupon 
they  are  necessary,  are  most  deeply  latent  and  hidden  from 
us.  Not  to  speak  of  the  abstruser  paths  and  methods  of 
nature,  wherein  while  we  observe  a  constancy,  yet  perhaps 
we  apprehend  it  might  have  been  some  other  way  as  well : 
perhaps  it  might,  but  it  is  more  than  v/e  know.  And 
though,  as  hath  been  said,  we  have  reason  to  suppose  that 
the  ways  God  hath  taken,  in  matters  of  this  sort,  may  be 
more  absolutely  arbitrary ;  yet  the  constant  iteration  of  the 
same  thing,  or  continuation  of  the  ancient  settled  course, 
shows  the  peremptoriness  of  the  Creator's  counsel;  and 
seems  to  carry  with  it  an  implied  rebuke  of  our  ignorant 
rashness,  in  thinking  it  might  as  well  be  otherwise ;  and  a 
stiff  asserting  of  his  determinations  against  us.  There  are 
none  so  well  studied  naturalists,  as  to  be  able  to  give  a 
rational  account  why  it  is  so,  and  so,  in  many  instances  ; 
wherein  they  may  yet  discern  the  inflexibleness  of  nature,, 


and  perceive  her  methods  to  be  as  unalterable,  as  they  are 
unaccountable.  'Tis  true,  this  is  obvious  to  be  seen  by 
any  eye,  that  where  things  are  well,  as  they  are,  constancy 
doth  better  than  innovation,  or  change  ;  but  it  very  much 
becomes  human  modesty  to  suppose,  that  there  may,  in 
many  cases,  be  other  reasons  to  justify  the  present  course, 
which  we  see  not.  But  we  may,  with  more  advantage, 
consider  the  fixedness  of  that  order  which  God  hath  set, 
unto  the  course  of  his  dispensation,  towards  his  intelligent 
creatures :  wherein  we  shall  only  instance  in  some  few 
particulars. 

As  first,  that  there  is  so  little  discernible  commerce,  in 
the  present  state,  between  the  superior  rank  of  these  crea- 
tures, and  the  inferior.  That  whereas  we  are  well  assured 
there  are  intelligent  creatures,  which  inhabit  not  earthly 
bodies  like  ours,  but  hold  an  agreement  with  us  in  greater 
things ;  they  yet  so  rarely  converse  with  us.  When  we 
consider  that  such  of  them  as  remain  innocent,  and  such 
of  us  as  are,  by  Divine  mercy,  recovered  out  of  a  state  of 
apostacy,  are  all  subject  to  the  same  common  Lord  ;  ob- 
serve the  more  substantial  things  of  the  same  law;  have 
all  the  same  common  end ;  are  acted  by  the  same  principle 
of  love,  devotedness,  and  zeal  for  the  interest  and  honour 
of  ihe  great  Maker,  and  Lord  of  all  things.  We  are  all  to 
make  up  one  community  with  them,  and  be  associates  in 
the  same  future  blessed  state ;  yet,  they  have  little  inter- 
course with  us,  they  shun  our  sight.  If  sometimes  they 
appear,  it  is  by  transient,  hasiy  glances ;  they  are  strangely 
shy  and  reserved  towards  us,  they  check  our  inquiries, 
put  us,  and  appear  to  be  themselves  in  reference  thereto, 
under  awful  restraints.  We  know  not  the  reason  of  all 
this,  sometimes  we  may  think  with  ourselves,  those  pure 
and  holy  spirits  cannot  but  be  full  of  kindness,  benignity, 
and  love,  and  concerned  for  us  poor  mortals,  whom  they 
see  put  to  tug  and  conflict  with  many  difficulties  and 
calamities ;  abused  by  the  cimning  malice  of  their  and  our 
enemy;  imposed  upon  by  the  illusions  of  our  own  senses. 
How  easily  might  they  make  many  useful  discoveries  to 
us,  relieve  our  ignorance  in  many  things,  acquaint  us, 
more  expressly,  with  the  state  of  things  in  the  other  world, 
rectify  our  dark  or  mistaken  apprehensions,  concerning 
many  both  religious  and  philosophical  matters  I  But  they 
refrain,  and  we  know  not  why. 

Again,  that  in  the  days  of  our  Saviour's  converse  on 
earth,  there  should  be  so  strange  a  connexion  as  to  them, 
on  whom  he  wrought  miraculous  cures,  between  the  Di- 
vine power,  and  their  faith ;  so  that,  sometimes,  we  find  it 
expressly  said,  He  could  do  no  mighty  work,  because  of 
their  unbelief. 

And  we,  lastly,  instance  in  the  fixedness  of  that  course, 
which  God  hath  set,  for  making  known  to  the  world  the 
contents  of  the  gospel  of  Christ:  so  that  little  is  ever 
done  therein,  immediately,  or  by  extraordinary  means. 
The  apostle  Paul  is  stopped  in  the  career  of  his  persecu- 
tion, by  an  amazing  voice,  and  vision;  but  he  is  left  for 
instruction,  as  to  his  future  course,  to  Ananias.  Unto 
Cornelius  an  angel  is  sent,  not  to  preach  the  gospel,  but 
to  direct  him  to  send  for  Peter,  for  that  purpose.  The 
Lord  doth  not  immediately  himself  instruct  the  Eunuch 
in  the  faith  of  Christ,  but  directs  Philip  to  do  it ;  and  experi- 
ence shows,  that(according  totherulesetin  that  case,  Rom. 
X.)  where  they  have  no  preachers,  they  have  no  gospel. 

Now^  as  to  all  these  cases,  and  many  more  that  might  be 
thought  on,  can  it  be  said  it  would  have  been  unjust,  if 
God  had  ordered  the  matter  otherwise  than  he  hath  1 
That  we  cannot  so  much  as  imagine,  nor  are  we  to  think 
the  matter  determined  as  it  is,  in  all  such  cases,  bjr  mere 
will  and  pleasure,  without  a  reason ;  which  were  an  ima- 
gination altogether  unworthy  the  Supreme  wisdom;  but 
that  there  are  reasons  of  mighty  force  and  weight,  or  cer- 
tain congruities,  in  the  natures  of  things  themselves,  obvi- 
ous to  the  Divine  understanding,  which  do  either  wholly 
escape  ours,  or  whereof  we  have  but  very  shallow,  dark, 
conjectural  apprehensions ;  as  he  that  saw  men  as  trees, 
or  as  some  creatures,  of  very  acute  sight,  perceive  what 
to  us  seems  invisible.  And  yet  those  occult  and  hidden 
reasons  and  congruities  have  been  the  foundation  of  con- 
stitutions and  laws,  that  hold  things  more  steadily  than 
adamantine  bands ;  and  are  of  more  stability  than  the 
foundations  of  heaven  and  earth. 


Chap.  VI. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


87 


Furthermore  it  is  to  be  considered,  that  the  rights  of  the 
Divine  government,  the  quality  and  measure  of  offences 
committed  against  it,  and  when  or  upon  what  terms  they 
may  be  remitted,  or  in  what  case,  it  may  be  congruous  to 
the  dignity  of  that  government  to  recede  from  such  rights ; 
are  matters  of  so  high  a  nature,  that  it  becomes  us  to  be 
very  sparing  in  making  an  estimate  about  them ;  especially 
a  more  diminishing  one  than  the  general  strain  of  Scrip- 
ture seems  to  hold  forth.  Even  among  men,  how  sacred 
things  are  majesty,  and  the  rights  of  government!  And 
how  much  above  the  reach  of  a  vulgar  judgment !  Suppose 
a  company  of  peasants,  that  understand  little  more  than 
what  is  within  the  compass  of  their  mattock,  plough,  and 
shovel,  should  take  upon  them  to  judge  of  the  rights  of 
their  prince,  and  make  an  estimate  of  the  measure  of 
offences,  committed  against  the  majesty  and  dignity  of 
government ;  how  competent  judges  would  we  think  them "? 
And  will  we  not  acknowledge  the  most  refined  human 
understanding  as  incompetent  to  judge  of  the  rights  of  the 
Divine  government,  or  measure  the  injuriousness  of  an 
offence  done  against  it ;  as  the  meanest  peasant  to  make 
an  estimate  of  these  matters,  in  a  human  government  1 
If  only  the  reputation  be  wronged  of  a  person  of  better 
quality,  how  strictly  is  it  insisted  on  to  have  the  matter 
tried  by  peers,  or  persons  of  equal  rank  !  such  as  are  ca- 
pable of  understanding  honour  and  reputation  !  How 
would  it  be  resented,  if  an  affront,  put  upon  a  nobleman, 
should  be  committed  to  the  judgment  of  smiths,  and  cob- 
blers ;  especially  if  they  were  participes  criminis,  and  as 
well  parties,  as  judges'? 

When  the  regalia  of  the  great  Ruler  and  Lord  of  heaven 
and  earth  are  invaded,  his  temple  violated,  his  presence 
despised,  his  image  torn  down  thence  and  defaced  ;  who 
among  the  sons  of  men  are  either  great,  or  knowing,  or 
innocent  enough  to  judge  of  the  offence  and  wrong  7  or 
how  fit  it  is  that  it  be  remitted,  without  recompense  1  or 
what  recompense  would  be  proportionable  1  How  sup- 
posable  is  it,  that  there  may  be  congruities  in  this  matter, 
obvious  to  the  Divine  understanding,  which  infinitely  ex- 
ceed the  measure  of  ours  1 

III.  And  yet,  because  God  speaks  to  us  about  these 
matters,  and  they  are  our  own  concernments,  as  being  of 
the  offending  parties ;  it  is  necessary  we  apply  our  minds 
to  understand  them,  and  possible  to  us  to  attain  to  a  true, 
though  not  to  a  full,  understanding  of  them.  And  though 
we  can  never  fully  comprehend  in  our  own  thoughts  the 
horror  of  the  case,  that  reasonable  creatures,  made  after 
God's  image,  so  highly  favoured  by  him,  capable  of 
blessedness  in  him,  incapable  of  it  any  other  way, 
should  have  arrived  to  that  pitch  of  wickedness  towards 
him,  and  unnaturalness  towards  themselves,  as  to  say  to 
him,  Depart  from  us,  and  cut  themselves  off  from  him : 
though  we  may  sooner  lose  ourselves  in  the  contemplation, 
and  be  overwhelmed  by  our  own  thoughts,  than  ever  see 
through  the  monstrous  evil  of  this  defection:  yet  we  may 
soon  see  it  incomparably  to  transcend  the  measure  of  any 
offence,  that  can  ever  be  done  by  one  creature  against 
another ;  or  of  the  most  scandalous  affront  the  meanest, 
the  vilest,  the  most  ungrateful,  ill-natured  wretch  could 
have  devised  to  put  upon  the  greatest,  the  most  benign, 
and  best  deserving  prince  the  world  ever  knew.  And  if 
we  can  suppose  an  offence,  of  that  kind,  may  be  of  so 
heinous  a  nature,  and  so  circumstanced  as  that  it  cannot 
be  congruous  it  should  be  remitted,  without  some  repara- 
tion made  to  the  majesty  of  the  prince,  and  compensation 
for  the  scandal  done  to  government;  it  is  easy  to  sup- 
pose it  much  more  incongruous  it  should  be  so  in  the 
present  case. 

Yea,  and  as  it  can  never  be  thought  congruous,  that 
such  an  offence,  against  any  human  governor,  should  be 
pardoned  without  the  intervening  repentance  of  the  delin- 
quent ;  so  we  may  easily  apprehend  also  the  case  to  be 
such,  as  that  it  cannot  be  fit  it  should  be  pardoned  upon 
that  alone,  without  other  recompense.  Whereof  if  any 
should  doubt,  I  would  demand,  is  it  in  any  case  fit  that  a 
penitent  delinquent,  against  human  laws  and  government, 
should  be  punished,  or  a  proportionable  recompense  be 
exacted  for  his  offence,  notwithstanding!  Surely  it  will 
be  acknowledged  ordinarily  fit,  and  who  would  take  upon 
him  to  be  the  censor  of  the  common  justice  of  the  worla,  in 


all  such  cases  1  or  to  damn  the  proceedings  of  all  times, 
and  nations,  wheresoever  a  penitent  offender  hath  been 
made  to  suffer  the  legal  punishment  of  his  offences,  not- 
withstanding his  repentance  1  How  strange  a  maxim  of 
government  would  that  be  :  that  it  is  never  fit  an  offender, 
of  what.soever  kind,  should  be  punished,  if  he  repent  him- 
self of  his  offence  !  And  surely  if  ever,  in  anv  case,  some- 
what else  than  repentance  be  fitly  insisted  on",  as  a  recom- 
pense for  the  violation  of  the  sacred  rights  of  government ; 
it  may  well  be  supposed  to  be  so,  in  the  case  of  man's 
common  delinquency  and  revolt  from  God,  much  more. 

Unto  which  purpose  it  is  further  to  be  considered,  that 
in  this  case  the  matter  is  much  otherwise  between  God 
and  man,  than,  for  the  most  part,  between  a  secular  prince 
and  a  delinquent  subject :  that  is,  that  pardon,  be  it  never 
so  plenary,  doth  (as  pardon)  no  more  than  restore  the  de- 
linquent into  as  good  a  condition  as  he  was  in  before.  But 
what  was,  for  the  most  part,  the  ca.se  before  of  delinquent 
subjects  "?  There  are  very  few  that  were  before  the  prince's 
favourites,  his  intimate  associates  and  friends,  with  whom 
he  was  wont  familiarly  to  converse.  Very  often  the  con- 
dition of  the  offender  was  such  before,  that  his  pardon 
only  saves  him  from  the  gallows  ;  lets  him  live,  and  enjoy 
only  the  poor  advantages  of  his  former  mean  condition ; 
and  not  always  that  neither :  yea,  or  if  he  were  one  whose 
higher  rank  and  other  circumstances  had  entitled  him  to  a 
nearest  attendance  on  the  person  of  the  prince,  and  a  daily, 
inward  conversation  with  him ;  it  is  possible  he  might  be 
pardoned  with  limitation  as  to  his  life,  or  it  may  be,  fur- 
ther, to  his  estate,  without  being  restored  to  the  honours 
and  offices  about  the  person  of  the  prince,  which  he  held 
only  by  royal  favour:  for  though  princely  compassion 
might  extend  so  far  as  to  let  his  offence  be  expiated  by  less 
than  his  utter  ruin,  yet  also  his  prudent  respect  to  the  dig- 
nity of  his  government  might  not  admit  that  a  person 
under  public  infamy  should  have  the  liberty  of  his  pre- 
sence, intermingle  with  his  councils,  or  be  dignified  with 
more  special  marks  of  his  favour  and  kindness.  Whereas 
in  the  restitution  of  man,  inasmuch  as  before  he  wa,s  the 
temple  and  residence  of  the  great  King,  where  he  afforded 
his  most  inward,  gracious  presence,  the  design  is  to  restore 
him  into  the  same  capacity,  and  to  as  good  condition  as 
he  was  in  before  in  these  respects:  yea,  and  not  only  so, 
but  unspeakably  to  better  his  case,  to  take  him  much 
nearer  to  himself  than  ever,  and  into  a  more  exalted  state. 
In  order  whereto,  it  was  the  more  highly  congruous  that 
his  offence  be  done  away  by  a  most  perfect,  unexception- 
able expiation;  that  so  high  and  great  an  advancement  of 
the  most  heinous  offenders,  might  not  be  brought  about 
upon  other  terms  than  should  well  accord  with  the  ma- 
jesty of  his  government  over  the  world. 

IV.  Here,  therefore,  let  a  comparative  view  be  taken  of 
the  fearful  malediction  and  curse  of  God's  law  upon  the 
transgressors  of  it,  and  of  the  copious  blessing  of  the  gos- 
pel :  that  thereupon  we  may  the  more  clearly  judge  how 
improbable  it  was  there  should  be  so  vast  a  difference  and 
translation  between  two  so  distant  states,  without  atone- 
ment made  for  transgression  of  so  high  demerit,  Emd  so 
deeply  resented. 

1.  As  to  the  former,  we  are  in  the  general  told,  (Gal. 
iii.)  that  "cursed  is  everyone  that  continues  not  in  all 
things  written  in  the  book  of  the  law,  to  do  them."  As- 
tonishing thing !  That  he  should  curse  me  who  made 
me!  That  my  being,  and  a  curse  upon  me,  should 
proceed  from  the  word  and  breath  of  the  same  sacred 
mouth  !  Of  how  terrible  import  is  his  curse  !  To  be  made 
an  anathema,  separate  and  cut  off  from  God,  and  from  all 
the  dutiful  and  loyal  part  of  his  creation !  Driven  forth 
from  his  deliffhtful  presence !  In  the  same  breath,  it  is 
said  to  the  loathed  wretch.  Depart— accursed  !  To  be  re- 
duced to  the  condition  of  a  vagabond  on  the  earth,  not 
knowing  whither  to  go !  Naked  of  Divine  protection  from 
any  violent  hand;  yea,  marked  out  for  the  butt  of  the 
sharpest  arrows  of  his  own  indignation  !  How  voluminous 
and  extensive  is  his  curse  !  reaching  to  all  one's  concern- 
ments in  both  worlds,  temporal  and  eternal,  of  outward 
and  inward  man.  To  be  cursed  in  one's  basket  and  store, 
in  the  citv  and  field,  in  going  out  and  coming  in !  Espe- 
ciallv  to  have  all  God's"curs"es  and  plagues  meeting  and 
centring  in  one's  very  heart,  to  be  there  smitten  with 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  II. 


blindness,  madness,  and  astonishment !  How  efficacious 
is  this  curse  !  Not  a  faint,  impotent  wishing  ill  to  a  man, 
but  under  which  he  really  wastes,  and  which  certainly 
blasts,  withers,  and  consumes  him,  and  even  turns  his  very 
blessings  into  curses  !  How  closely  adhering,  as  a  gar- 
ment wherewith  he  is  clothed,  and  as  a  girdle  with  which 
he  is  girt  continually  !  How  secretly  and  subtly  insinuat- 
ing, as  water  into  his  bowels,  and  oil  into  his  bones !  And 
how  deservedly  doth  it  befall  1  The  curse  causeless  shall 
not  come ;  this  can  never  be  without  a  cause.  If  another 
curse  me,  it  shows  he  hates  me  ;  if  the  righteous  God  do 
so,  it  signifies  me  to  be  in  myself  a  hateful  creature,  a  son 
and  heir,  not  of  peace,  but  of  wrath  and  a  curse.  And  the 
effect  must  be  of  equal  permanency  with  its  cause  ;  so  as 
that  God  is  angry  with  the  wicked  every  day,  and  rains 
upon  them  fire  and  brimstone,  and  a  horrible  tempest,  as 
the  portion  of  their  cup ;  indignation  and  wrath,  tribulation 
and  anguish,  upon  every  soul  of  man  that  does  evil,  and 
continually  growing  into  a  treasure, against  the  da)^  of  wrath. 

2.  View,  on  the  other  hand,  the  copious,  abundant 
blessing  contained  and  conveyed  in  the  gospel.  It  is  a 
call  to  blessing,  that  we  may  inherit  a  blessing:  it  dis- 
covers a  state  begun  with  the  blessedness  of  having  ini- 
qiiity  forgiven  ;  a  course,  under  a  continued  blessing,  of 
meditating  on  the  word  of  God  with  delight,  day  and 
night ;  of  being  undefiled  in  the  way :  gives  characters  of 
the  subjects  of  blessings  showered  down  from  the  mouth  of 
Christ  on  the  poor  in  spirit,  pure  in  heart,  the  meek,  mer- 
ciful, &c. :  aims  at  making  them  nigh,  that  were  afar  off; 
taking  them  into  God's  own  family  and  household ;  making 
them  friends,  favourites,  domestics,  sons,  and  daughters  ; 
engaging  them  in  a  fellowship  with  the  Father  and  Son : 
yet  were  all  these  the  children  of  wrath,  by  nature.  Whence 
is  this  change?  A  regression  became  not  the  majesty  of 
heaven.  God's  original  constitution,  that  connected  sin 
and  the  curse,  was  just;  he  abides  by  it,  reverses  it  not. 
To  have  reversed  it,  was  not  to  have  judged  the  offenders, 
but  himself;  but  having  a  mind  to  show  men  mercy,  he 
provides  for  the  expiation  of  sin,  and  salving  the  rights  of 
his  government,  another.way — by  transferring  guilt  and 
the  curse,  not  nutting  them. 

V.  Whereupon,  we  may  also  see  what  made  atonement 
for  sin  so  fundamental  to  a  design  of  grace  ;  the  magnifying 
the  divine  law;  (Isa.  xlii.  41.)  the  asserting  the  equity 
and  righteousness  of  the  supreme  government ;  not,  as 
some  odiously  suggest,  the  gratifying  of  what,  with  us,  is 
wont  to  go  for  a  private  appetite  of  revenge,  from  which 
the  support  of  the  honour  and  the  dignity  of  the  govern- 
ment is  most  remote :  yea,  it  were  horrid  to  suppose  that 
any  such  thing  can  have  place  with  the  blessed  God,  which 
is  one  of  the  most  odious  things  in  the  disposition  of 
lapsed,  degenerate  man — an  aptness  to  take  complacency 
in  the  pains  and  anguish  of  such  as  have  offended  us; 
unto  which  purpose,  how  feelingly  v/ould  a  malicious,  ill- 
minded  man,  oftentimes  utter  the  sense  of  his  heart,  and 
say,  O  the  sweetness  of  revenge  !  So  black  a  thought  of 
God  will  be  most  remote  from  every  pious  breast,  or  that 
is  capable  of  savouring  real  goodness.  Nor  doth  any  pre- 
cept within  the  whole  compass  of  that  revelation  which  he 
hath  given  us,  express  more  fully,  at  once,  both  our  duty 
and  his  own  nature,  than  that  of  loving  our  enemies,  or  of 
forgiving  men  their  trespasses.  There  is,  perhaps,  some- 
where (but  O  how  rarely  ?)  to  be  found  among  men,  that 
benign,  generous  temper  of  mind,  as  when  an  enemy  is  per- 
fectly within  one's  power,  to  be  able  to  take  a  real  solace 
in  showing  mercy;  when  he  is  in  a  fearful,  trembling  ex- 
pectation, and  hath  even  yielded  himself  a  prey  to  revenge, 
to  take  pleasure  in  surprising  him  by  acts  of  kindness  and 
compassion  :  one  that  can  avow  the  contrary  sentiment  to 
the  spirit  of  the  world,  and  to  them  who  so  emphatically 
say.  How  sweet  is  revenge !  and  can  with  greater  -rraBoi 
oppose  to  it  that,  as  the  undisguised  sense  of  his  soul,  O 
but  how  much  sweeter  is  it  to  forgive  !  Than  this,  there  is 
no  where  to  be  seen  a  more  lively  resemblance  of  God  ;  a 
truer  and  more  real  part  of  His  living  image,  who  hath 
commanded  us  to  love  our  enemies ;  if  they  hunger,  to 
feed  them  ;  to  bless  them  that  curse  us  ;  to  pray  for  them 
that  despitefuUy  use  us,  and  persecute  us  ;  that  we  may 
ne  his  childr^en,  tjiat  we  may  show  ourselves  born  of  him, 
and  to  have  received  from  him  a  new,  even  a  divine,  na- 


ture, one  truly  agreeable  to  and  resembling  his  own  ;  and 
unto  him,  the  acts  and  operations  that  naturally  proceed 
from  this  temper  of  spirit,  are  more  grateful  and  savoury 
than  all  whole  burnt-ofi'erings  and  sacrifices.  So  are  we  to 
frame  our  conceptions  of  the  ever  blessed  God,  if  either 
we  will  take  the  rationally  coherent  and  self-consistent 
idea  of  an  absolutely  perfect  Being,  or  his  own  frequent 
affirmations  who  best  understands  his  own  nature,  or  the 
course  of  his  actual  dispensations  towards  a  sinful  world, 
for  our  measure  of  him. 

VI.  But  is  it  a  difficulty  to  us  to  reconcile  with  all  this 
such  frequent  expressions  in  the  sacred  volume,  as  import 
a  steady  purpose  that  all  the  sins  of  men  shall  be  answered 
with  an  exactly  proportionable  measure  of  punishment  1 
That  every  transgression  shall  have  a  just  recompense  of 
reward  1  That  death  is  the  stated  wages  of  sin  !  Or  do  we 
find  ourselves  more  perplexed  how  to  understand,  con- 
sistently with  such  declarations  of  his  merciful  nature, 
those  passages  which  sometimes  also  occur,  that  seem  to 
intimate  a  complacential  vindictiveness,  and  delight  taken 
in  punishing — the  Lord  is  "jealous,  the  Lord  revengeth  :" 
yea,  he  seems  to  appropriate  it  as  peculiar  to  himself — 
"Vengeance  is  mine,  and  I  will  repay  it:"  "indignation 
and  wrath,  tribulation  and  anguish,  shall  be  upon  every 
soul  of  man  that  doth  evil."  We  meet  with  passages  that 
speak  of  his  laying  up  sin,  sealing  it  among  his  treasures ; 
of  his  waiting  for  a  day  of  recompenses ;  of  his  whetting 
his  glittering  sword,  his  making  his  bow  ready,  and  pre- 
paring his  arrows  on  the  string  ;  of  his  being  refreshed  by 
acts  of  vengeance,  his  satiating  of  his  fury,  and  causing  it 
hereupon  to  rest,  as  having  highly  pleased  and  satisfied 
himself  therewith.  If  any  thing  alien  to  the  Divine  nature, 
and  disagreeable  Vo  the  other  so  amiable  discoveries  of  it, 
be  thought  imported  in  such  expressions,  let  it  only  be 
considered,  first,  what  must  be  allowed  to  be  their  import; 
and  next,  how  well  so  much  will  agree  with  a  right  con- 
ception of  God. 

For  the  former,  it  is  not  necessary  that  such  expressions 
be  understood  to  intend  more,  and  it  seems  necessary  they 
be  not  understood  to  import  less,  than  a  constant,  calm, 
dispassionate,  complacential  will,  so  far  to  punish  sin,  as 
shall  be  necessary  to  the  ends  of  his  government.  That 
they  do  import  a  will  to  punish,  is  evident ;  for  they  are 
manifest  expression  of  anger,  whereof  we  can  say  nothing 
more  gentle,  than  that  it  is  a  will  to  punish.  It  cannot 
signify  punishment,  without  that  will ;  for  though  the  word 
anger,  or  wrath,  be  sometimes  used  in  Scripture  for  the 
punishment  itself,  yet  even  then  that  will  is  supposed; 
otherwise  what  is  said  to  be  punishment,  were  an  unin- 
tended accident;  and  then  how  were  it  a  punishment'? 
Much  less  can  it  signify  only  God's  declaration  of  his  will 
to  punish,  excluding  that  will  itself;  for  then  what  is  it  a 
declaration  of?  Or  what  doth  it  declare  ?  Surely  we  will 
acknowledge  it  a  true  declaration  ;  then  it  cannot  be  the 
declaration  of  nothing,  but  must  have  somewhat  in  God 
correspondent  to  it ;  viz.  the  will  which  it  declares.  Which 
being  plain,  that  it  be  also  a  dispassionate  will,  accom- 
panied with  nothing  of  perturbation  ;  that  it  be  a  constant 
will,  in  reference  to  all  such  occasions,  wherein  the  sacred- 
ness  of  the  divine  government,  violated,  requires  sueh 
reparation ;  and  without  any  change,  (other  than  what  we 
may  conceive  imported  in  the  different  aspects  of  the  same 
object,  conceived  as  future,  present,  or  past,  and  beheld  be- 
fore, with  purpose,  afterwards  with  continual  approbation,) 
the  most  acknowledged  perfection  on  the  divine  nature  doth 
manifestly  not  admit  only,  but  require.  For  that  such  a 
calm,  sedate,  steady,  fixed  temper  of  mind  in  a  magistrate 
is  an  excellency,  even  common  reason  apprehends:  there- 
fore is  it  said,  by  a  noted  pagan,  that  judges  ought  to  be 
teguvi  similes — like  the  Mies  themselves  ;  which  are  moved 
by  no  passion,  yet  inflexible :  and  then  where  can  such  an 
excellency  have  place  in  highest  perfection,  but  in  the 
blessed  God  himself?  Yea,  and  that  it  be  also  a  conipla.- 
cential  will,  as  some  of  the  expressions  above  recited  seem 
to  import,  may  very  well  be  admitted,  if  we  right  *■•  con- 
ceive and  state  in  our  own  minds  the  thing  willed  by  it ; 
i.  e.  the  preserving  the  honour  and  dignity  of  the  supreme 
government.  Indeed,  simply  to  take  pleasure  in  the  pain 
and  misery  of  another,  is  so  odd  and  unnatural  a  disaffec- 
tion, that  it  is  strange  how  it  can  have  place  any  where  ;, 


Chap.  VII. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


and  where  it  seems  to  have  place  among  men,  though  too 
often  it  really  hath  so  in  more  monstrou.sly  vicious  tem- 
pers, yet,  with  many  others,  (who  herein  are  sufficiently 
blameable  also,)  the  matter  may,  perhaps,  be  somewhat 
mistaken ;  pleasure  may  possibly  not  be  taken  in  the  af- 
flicted person's  mere  suffering,  for  itself,  but  only  a-s  it  is 
an  argument  or  evidence  of  the  other's  superiority,  wherein 
he  prides  himself,  especially  if  he  before  misdoubted  his 
own  power,  and  that  there'hath  been  a  dispute  about  it, 
which  is  now  only  thus  decided.  In  this  case  a  secret 
joy  may  arise  unto  the  prevailing  party,  upon  his  being 
delivered  from  an  afflicting  fear  of  being  so  used  himself; 
and  whereas  he  took  it  for  a  disparagement  that  the  other 
did  so  far  lessen  and  diminish  him  in  his  own  thoughts,  as 
to  suppose  or  hope  he  should  prove  the  stronger ;  a  pleasure 
is  now  taken  in  letting  him  feel  and  have  so  sensible  a 
demonstration  of  his  error. 

VII.  But  that  wherewith  we  must  suppose  the  blessed 
God  to  be  pleased,  in  the  matter  of  punishing,  is  the  con- 
gruity  of  the  thing  itself,  that  the  sacred  rights  of  his  go- 
vernment over  the  world  be  vindicated;  and  that  it  be 
understood  how  ill  his  nature  can  comport  with  any  thing 
that  is  impure :  and  what  is  in  itself  so  highly  congruous, 
cannot  but  be  the  matter  of  his  delectation.  He  takes 
eternal  pleasure  in  the  reasonableness  and  fitness  of  his 
own  determinations  and  actions,  and  rejoices  in  the  works 
of  his  own  hands,  as  agreeing  with  the  apt,  eternal  schemes 
and  models  which  he  hath  conceived  in  his  most  wise  and 
all-comprehending  mind :  so  that  though  he  desireth  not 
the  death  of  sinners,  and  hath  no  delight  in  the  sufferings 
of  his  afflicted  creatures,  which  his  immense  goodness 
rather  inclines  him  to  behold  with  compassion,  yet  the 
true  ends  of  punishment  are  so  much  a  greater  good  than 
their  ease,  and  exemption  from  the  suffering  they  had  de- 
served, that  they  must  rather  be  chosen,  and  cannot  be  eli- 
gible for  any  reason,  but  for  which  also  they  are  to  be 
delighted  in ;  i.  e.  a  real  goodness,  and  conducibleness  to  a 
valuable  end,  inherent  in  them.  Upon  which  account,  the 
iust  execution  of  the  Divine  pleasure  in  the  punishment  of 
insolent  offenders  is  sometimes  spoken  of  under  the  notion 
of  a  solemn  festival,  a  season  of  joy,  yea  even  of  a  sacrifice, 
as  having  a  fragrancy  or  delectable  savour  in  it.  But 
whereas  some  of  the  above-mentioned  expressions  do  seem 
to  intimate  a  delight  in  satisfying  a  furious,  vindictive  ap- 
petite; we  are  to  consider,  that  what  is  spoken  for  the 
warning  and  terror  of  stupid  besotted  men,  was  necessaril}' 
to  be  spoken  with  some  accommodation  to  their  dull  ap- 
prehension of  the  things  which  they  yet  see  and  feel  not. 
For  which  purpose  the  person  is  put  on,  sometimes,  of  an 
enraged,  mighty  man ;  the  terror  of  which  representation 
is  more  apprehensible  to  vulgar  minds,  than  the  calm,  de- 
.iberate  proceedings  of  magistratical  justice ;  it  being  man}' 

imes  more  requisite,  that  expressions  be  rather  suited  to 
vhe  person  spoken  to,  though  they  somewhat  less  exactly 
square  with  the  thing  itself  intended  to  be  spoken. 

VIII.  Wherefore  this  being  all  that  we  have  any  reason 
to  understand  imported  in  such  texts  of  Scripture  as  we 
before  mentioned,  viz.  a  calm  and  constant  will  of  preserv- 
ing the  divine  government  from  contempt,  by  a  due  punish- 
ment of  such  as  do  offer  injurious  affronts  to  it ;  and  that 
takes  pleasure  in  itself,  or  is  satisfied  with  the  congruiiy 
and  fitness  of  its  o\vn  determination ;  what  can  there  be  in 
this  unworthy  of  God?  what  that  disagrees  with  his  other 
perfections'?  or  that  the  notion  of  a  Being,  every  way 
perfect,  doth  not  exact  and  claim  as  necessarily  belonging 
to  it  1  For  to  cut  off  this  from  it,  were  certainly  a  veiy 
great  maim  to  the  notion  of  such  a  Being,  if  we  consider 
it  as  invested  with  the  right  and  office  of  supreme  rector, 
or  ruler  of  the  world.  For  if  you  frame  such  an  idea  of  a 
prince  as  should  exclude  a  disposition  to  pimish  offenders, 
who  would  not  presently  observe  in  it  an  intolerable  defect  1 
Suppose  Xenophon  to  have  given  this  character  of  his 
Cyrus — That  he  was  a  person  of  so  sweet  a  nature,  that 
he  permitted  every  one  to  do  what  was  good  in  his  own 
eyes;  if  any  one  put  indignities  upon  him,  he  took  no 
offence  at  it ;  he  dispensed  favours  alike  to  all ;  even  they 
that  despised  his  authority,  invaded  his  rights,  attempted 
the  subversion  of  his  government,  with  the  disturbance  and 
confusion  cf  all  that  lived  under  it,  had  equal  countenance 
and  kindness  from  him,  as  they  that  were  most  observant  I 


of  his  laws,  and  faithful  to  his  interest;  and  it  were  as 
safe  for  any  one  to  be  his  sworn  enemy,  as  his  mo.st  loyal 
and  devoted  subject: — who  would  take  this  for  a  com- 
mendation, or  think  such  a  one  fit  to  have  s"wayed  a  scep- 
tre? Can  there  be  no  such  thing  as  goodness,  without 
the  exclusion  and  banishment  of  wisdom,  righteousness, 
and  truth  1  Yea,  it  is  plain  they  not  only  CMisist  with  it, 
but  that  it  is  a  manifest  inconsistency  it  should  be  without 
them.  The  several  virtues  of  a  well-instructed  mind,  as 
they  all  concur  to  make  up  one  entire  frame,  so  they  do 
each  of  them  cast  a  mutual  lustre  upon  one  another ;  much 
more  is  it  so  with  the  several  excellences  of  the  Divine 
Being.  But  how  much  too  low  are  our  highest  and  mo.st 
raised  thoughts  of  the  Supreme  Majesty!  How  do  we 
falter  when  we  most  earnestly  .strive  to  .speak  and  think 
most  worthily  of  God,  and  suitably  to  his  excellenl 
greatness! 


CHAPTER  VIL 

The  notion  of  justice  in  the  divine  government,  and  in  a  human,  not  altogether 
the  same.  A  thing  said  to  brt  just,  in  a  negative  and  a  positive  sense.  Tho 
question  discussed,  Whettier  God's  will  to  puni.sh  sin  wtre.  antecedently  to 
his  legal  constitution  to  that  purpose,  just,  not  only  in  the  former  sense,  but 
in  the  latter  also?  Volenti  non  /it  injuria,  as  to  man  needs  limitation. 
Holy  .Scripture  speaks  of  God's  punishing  sin,  not  merely  as  a  concomitant 
of  justice,  but  an  clfect.  His  will  to  punish  it  must  proceed  from  justice  ; 
not.  primarily,  according  to  the  common  notion  of  justice,  as  it  resjiects  llie 
rights  of  another ;  therefore  another  notion  of  it  (as  to  him)  to  be  sought.  Gai'M 
rights  so  unalienable,  that  he  cannot  quit  them  to  his  own  wroiig  a.s  rrtan  can. 
.Secondarily,  according  to  the  other  notion,  his  right  to  puiMsh  depends  not  on 
his  legal  constitution,  but  that  on  it.  That  he  cannot  altogether  quit  it.  no 
detraction  from  him.  Justice,  in  a  larger  notion,  do'h  further  oblige  to  insist 
upon  recompense ;  viz.  universal  justice,  as  especially  it  comprehends  his 
holiness,  his  wisdom.  The  fitness  of  God's  methods  herein  not  to  be  only 
contemplated  by  men,  but  angels.  In  what  sense  punishmentji  to  be  reckoucd 
debts.    This  matter  summed  up. 

I.  We  must  also  acknowledge  a  very  vast  difference  be- 
tween God's  government  over  his  intelligent  creatures,  and 
that  of  a  secular  prince  over  his  subjects ;  and  are  there- 
upon to  inquire,  whether  the  notion  of  justice,  as  it  is  ap- 
plied to  the  one  government  and  the  other,  can  be  the 
same.  A  secular  ruler  is  set  up  and  established  pui-posely 
for  the  good  of  the  community,  as  the  more  principal  end 
of  his  constitution.  The  people  are  not  formed  for  him, 
but  he  for  them ;  whence  the  administration  of  justice  is 
a  public  and  common  right,  wherewith  he  is  intrusted  by 
the  Supreme  Ruler  for  them,  in  order  to  the  common  good. 
Well,  therefore,  may  his  decrees  and  edicts  go  in  this  form, 
and  have  this  for  their  chief  scope  and  end  :  Nc  quid  de- 
trivienti  respnblica  capiat.  And  hence  the  neglect  duly 
and  seasonably  to  animadvert  upon  offenders,  is  a  violation 
of  the  public  justice  committed  to  his  management,  for 
which  he  is  accountable  to  him  that  intrusted  him:  it  is  a 
wrong  done  to  the  community,  of  whose  rights  he  is  the 
appointed  guardian.  And  whereas  such  oflences  as  more 
directly  strike  at  his  crown,  and  disnit}',  as  treason  or  re- 
bellion, seem  more  principally  levelled  against  himself  and 
his  own  rights,  so  is  the  legal  punishment  of  them  to  be 
more  at  his  arbitrement,  whether  to  inflict  or  not  inflict  it; 
because  it  maj-  seem  in  any  one's  power  to  dispense  with 
or  recede  from  his  own  rights.  Yet  indeed  if  the  matter 
be  more  narrowly  scanned,  the  relaxation  of  these  should 
be,  in  reason,  less  in  his  power  than  of  any  other ;  because 
they  more  directly  affront  that  Supreme  Ruler  whom  he 
represents,  and  threaten  the  dissolution  of  the  government, 
which  is  the  principal  civil  good  of  the  whole  commtmity, 
and  the  benefits  whereof  are  their  highest  right.  If  vio- 
lence be  done  to  a  private  subject,  the  impunity  of  the 
oflender  would  be  a  public  wrong;  because  it  remotely 
tends,  by  the  badness  of  the  example,  to  the  hurt  of  the 
whole  community.  But  in  this  case,  without  any  such 
circulation,  all  the  rights  of  the  community  are  immedi- 
ately struck  at  together,  in  their  central  knot  and  juncture; 
wherefore  here,  most  of  all,  the  prince  is  debtor  to  the  com- 
munity. But  now,  the  great  Lord  and  Ruler  of  the  world 
owes  his  own  creatures  nothing :  he  is,  by  his  goodness, 
inclined  to  take  care  of  them,  and  preserve  common  order 
among  them ;  but  not  owing  them  any  thing,  (except  by  his 
own  word  he  makes  himself  a  debtor,)  he  cannot  be  said  to 


90 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  II. 


■wrong  the  community,  by  not  providing  that  punishments 
be  inflicted  upon  delinquents,  according  to  demerit.  What 
he  can  be  understood,  originally,  to  owe  herein,  he  owes 
only  to  himself;  whence  also  the  notion  of  justice  which 
we  herein  attribute  to  him,  seems  very  different  from  that 
which  belongs  to  human  governments ;  which,  though  it 
allows  not  the  disposal  of  another's  right,  to  his  prejudice, 
forbids  not  the  remitting  of  one's  own. 

II.  Whereas,  therefore,  a  thing  may  be  said  just,  in  a 
two-fold  sense;  either  negative,  as  it  is  that  which  justice 
does  not  disapprove,  or  positive,  as  that  whereto  also  jus- 
tice doth  oblige:  it  is  hereupon  a  question  of  great  moment. 
Whether  God's  will  to  punish  sinners,  antecedent  to  his 
legal  constitution  to  that  purpose,  were  just  in  the  former 
sense  only,  or  also  in  the  latter  1  Can  we  say,  God  had 
been  unjust,  in  not  so  determining  1  Whose  rights  had  he 
violated  in  willing  otherwise  1  Not  man's,  to  whom  he 
did  owe  nothing.  Will  we  say.  His  ownl  But  volenti 
nan  fit  injuria — which  maxim  doth  not  set  us  at  liberty 
absolutely  to  do  whatsoever  we  will  with  ourselves,  and 
what  is  ours  ;  because  of  others,  whose  rights  are  compli- 
cated with  ours,  the  chief  Ruler  and  Lord  of  all  especially, 
who  hath  principal  interest  in  us,  and  all  that  we  have. 
Yet  it  holds  even  as  to  us:  for  though  we  may  mjure 
others,  God  especially,  by  an  undue  disposition  of  our 
properties,  which  he  intrusts  us  with ;  (not  for  ourselves 
only,  but  for  himself  chiefly,  and  for  other  men,  whom 
therefore,  in  the  second  place,  we  may  wrong,  by  disabling 
ourselves  to  do  them  that  good  which  we  ought;)  and 
though  we  may  also  prejudice  ourselves,  yet,  "ourselves 
apart,  we  cannot  be  said  so  far  to  wrong,  by  our  own  con- 
sent, as  to  be  able  to  resume  our  right ;  because,  by  that 
consent,  (supposing  it  imprudent,  or  any  way  undue,)  we 
have  quilted  and  even  forfeited  the  right,  which,  for  our- 
selves, we  had.  But  as  to  God,  who  has  no  superior,  nor 
owes  any  thing  to  any  one,  whom  can  he  be  thought  to 
wrong,  by  departing  from  any  of  his  own  rights  1 

Inasmuch  therefore  as  justice,  in  the  common  and  most 
general  notion  of  it,  is  ever  wont  to  be  reckoned  conversant 
about  d\\6Tpuiv  dyiiGov — tJie  good  of  others,  even  that  whereto 
they  have  a  right ;  it  seems  not  intelligible,  how  justice, 
according  to  this  usual  notion  of  it,  could  primarily  oblige 
God  to  inflict  deserved  punishment  upon  transgressors,  if 
he  had  not  settled  a  legal  constitution  to  this  purpose,  and 
declared  that  should  be  the  measure  of  his  proceedings 
herein;  both  because  it  is  so  little  conceivable  how  the 
punishments  of  the  other  state  (which  we  are  chiefly  to  con- 
sider) can  be  a  good  to  them  who  do  not  suffer  them,  (as 
we  are  sure  they  can  be  none  to  them  that  do,)  and  also 
that  it  is  not  to  be  understood  how,  if  they  were,  they 
could  otherwise  have  any  right  thereto,  than  by  that  con- 
stitution by  which  (as,  before,  God's  dominion  was  that 
of  an  absolute,  sovereign  Lord)  he  now  undertakes  the 
part  of  a  governor,  ruling  according  to  known  and  estab- 
lished laws. 

III.  Yet  very  plain  it  is,  that  for  the  actual  infliction  of 
such  punishments,  holy  Scripture  speaks  of  it  not  merely 
as  a  concomitant  of  justice,  or  as  that  which  may  consis't 
with  it,  but  as  an  eftect;  which  the  nvTaTT6ioaii,  mentioned 
by  the  apostle,  plainly  signifies,  (-2  Thess.  i.  9.)  when  he 
tells  us  it  is  with  God  a  righteous  thing, — iUaiov  (that  must 
be  not  only  what  justice  doth  admit,  but  exact,)  to  recom- 
ve7ise — ivraTTo^Svai,  tribulation  to  the  troublers  of  his  people, 
&c.  And  Avhen  we  are  told,  (Rom.  ii.  6.)  that  God  will 
reyyder  (or  recompense — a-aoiii^a)  to  every  one  according  to 
his  works,  even  in  the  day  above  mentioned,  {v.  5.)  which 

is   called,  ^^itpu    i^yfti,  koi   d-roKa'Xiipcms   iiKaioKpiaiai, — the   day 

of  wrath,  and  of  the  revelation  of  the  righteous  judg- 
ment of  God;  and  that  'tis  said,  the  world  was  to  become 
vv6SLKni — guilty,  (we  read,)  liable  to  be  impleaded  before 
God,  Rom.  iii.  19.  And  again,  {ch.  xii.  19.)  that  iKiiKvan 
—vengeance  is  said  to  belong  to  him,  and  he  will  repay; 
with  many  more  passages  of  the  like  import. 

But  to  carry  the  matter  higher :  it  being  evident  it  is 
that  which  justice  doth  require,  to  punish  sin,  according  to 
such  a  constitution  once  made;  vet  all  this  while,  how 
the  constitution  was  any  necessary  effect  of  justice,  appears 
not.  Nor  are  we  helped  by  the  common  notion  of  justice 
herein,  and  are  therefore  cast  upon  the  inquiry.  Whether 
any  other  notion  of  justice  be  fitly  assignable,  according 


whereto  it  may  be  understood  to  have  required  the  making 
that  constitution  itself  1 

IV.  It  is  here  to  be  considered,  whence,  or  from  what 
fountain,  any  man,  or  community  of  men,  come  to  have 
right  to  any  thing.  It  cannot  be,  but  that  the  Fountain 
of  all  being  must  be  the  Fountain  of  all  rights.  From 
whence  things,  absolutely  considered,  descend,  all  the 
relations  that  result  must  also  descend.  There  can  there- 
fore be  no  pretence  of  right  to  any  thing,  among  creatures, 
but  from  God ;  He,  as  the  sovereign  Proprietor  and  Lord 
of  all,  settles  such  and  such  rights  in  creatures,  which  they 
hold  and  retain  dependenlly  on  him,  upon  terms  and  ac- 
cording to  rules  which  he  hath  prescribed ;  so  as  that  by 
transgression  men  may  forfeit  such  rights,  or  by  consent 
and  mutual  contracts  transfer  them  to  one  another.  Where- 
upon they  have  no  unalienable  rights,  none  whereof  they 
may  not  be  divested,  either  by  their  default  or  consent: 
sometimes  by  both  together,  as  by  a  faulty  consent.  And 
indeed  if  it  be  by  the  former,  it  must  be  by  the  latter ;  be- 
cause no  man  is  supposed  to  commit  a  fault  against  his 
will.  But  it  may  be  by  the  latter  without  the  former,  as 
none  can  doubt  but  one  may  innocently  divest  himself,  in 
many  cases,  of  his  own  present  right;  otherwise,  there 
could  be  no  such  thing  in  the  world  as  either  gift  or  sale. 
And  hence  it  comes  to  pass,  that  the  justice  which  is  in- 
herent in  any  man,  comes  to  be  conversant  about  the  rights 
of  another,  not  his  own ;  so  far  as  to  oblige  him  not  to  in- 
trench upon  the  rights  of  another,  while  yet  it  forbids  him 
not  to  dispose  of  his  own,  as  they  are  merely  his.  And 
there  is  no  such  thing  as  justice  towards  a  man's  self,  so 
inhibiting  him,  as  (though  perhaps  such  an  act  ought  not 
to  have  been  done)  to  make  his  act  in  that  kind  invalid, 
when  he  hath  done  it,  only  because  he  hath  thereby 
wronged  himself;  or  which  he  can,  afterwards,  allege 
against  his  own  act  or  deed.  For  he  hath  no  other  rights 
in  any  thing,  than  what  are  derived,  borrowed,  dependent 
on  the  Supreme  Proprietor,  mea,surable  by  his  rules,  by 
which  they  are  not  unalienable ;  yea,  justice  obliges,  if  he 
swear  to  his  own  hurt,  not  to  change,  Ps.  xv. 

V.  But  now,  with  the  Supreme  Proprietor,  there  cannot 
but  be  unalienable  rights,  inseparably  and  everlastingly 
inherent  in  him:  for  it  cannot  be,  but  that  He  that  is  the 
Fountain  of  all  rights,  must  have  them  primarily  and 
originally  in  himself;  and  can  no  more  so  quit  them,  as  to 
make  the  creature  absolute  and  independent,  than  he  can 
make  the  creature  God.  Wherefore,  though  with  man 
there  can  be  no  such  thing  as  justice  towards  one's  self, 
disenabling  him  to  forego  his  own  rights,  the  case  cannot 
but  be  quite  otherwise  as  to  God,  and  for  the  same  reason 
for  which  it  cannot  agree  to  man  ;  because  man  hath  none 
but  borrowed  and  alienable  rights,  which  he  can  forego 
to  his  own  prejudice,  and  God  hath  none  that  he  can  so 
part  with.  Hereupon,  therefore,  God  did  owe  it  to  him- 
self, primarily,  as  the  absolute  Sovereign  and  Lord  of  all, 
not  to  suffer  indignities  to  be  offered  to  him,  without 
animadverting  upon  them,  and  therefore  to  determine  he 
would  do  so. 

VI.  But  withal,  he  having  undertaken  the  part  of  a  legal 
Governor,  and  to  rule  by  established  laws,  which  should 
be  the  stated  measures  of  sin  and  duty,  of  punishments 
and  rewards  ;  hereby  common  order  was  to  be  preserved 
in  the  governed  community:  and  having  published  his 
constitution  in  his  word,  and  otherwise  sufficiently  to  thaK 
purpose,  he  hath  hereby,  secondarily,  made  himself  DebtOi 
to  the  community,  and  by  his  constitution  given  men 
some  right  to  the  benefit  of  that  order  which  was  to  be 
maintained  among  them  by  these  means:  which  benefit 
they  do  here,  in  this  present  state,  actually  partake  in  some 
measure ;  and  might  in  a  greater  measure,  if  they  were 
more  governable,  or  would  regard  and  be  awed  more  by 
the  laws  (with  their  sanctions)  of  their  great  and  rightful 
Ruler  and  Lord.  Wherefore,  though  men  have  no  benefit 
by  the  punishments  of  the  future  state,  they  have,  or  might 
have,  by  the  feared  commination  of  them,  which,  neglected, 
made  the  actual  infliction  of  them  necessary.  Nor  had 
they  only  the  probable  benefit  of  present  order  hereb}',  but 
of  a  future  well-being  ;  it  bemg  the  design  of  that,  as  of  all 
the  comminations  of  wise  and  good  rulers,  to  prevei-t  the 
desert  of  the  threatened  punishment,  and  consequently  the 
punishment  itself.    And  though  men  could  have  no  right 


Chap.  VII. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


91 


to  any  such  benefit,  before  the  constitution ;  yet  it  is  not 
inconceivable,  that  by  it  they  might  have  some;  viz.  an 
inferior  and  secondary  right. 

VII.  Wherefore  the  blessed  God,  by  making  the  legal 
constitution,  that  he  will  have  stand  as  the  measure  of  his 
government,  hath  not  added  to  his  own  right  to  govern  and 
punish  as  there  is  cause  ;  for  it  was  natural,  and  needed 
nothing  to  support  it.  The  constitution  rather  limits  than 
causes  his  right,  which  depends  not  on  it,  but  gives  rise 
to  it  rather.  He  gives  assurance,  by  it,  of  his  equal  deal- 
ing, and  that  he  will  not  lay  upon  man  more  than  is  riglit, 
that  he  should  enter  into  judgment  with  God,  Job  xxxiv. 
12,  23.  And  whereas  he  hath  been  pleased  to  publish  his 
constitution,  in  the  form  of  a  covenant,  variously  attem- 
pered to  the  different  states  of  men,  nothing  accrues  to 
him  by  their  stipulating  with  him  thereupon.  He  is  their 
Governor,  as  he  is  their  Maker;  not  at  their  choice,  which 
in  propriety  thecase  admits  not,  there  being  no  competitor 
that  pretends  against  him;  but  is  only  a  loyal,  dutiful 
consent,  or  recognising  his  former  right.  They  that  con- 
sent to  it,  do  therefore  more  deeply  oblige  themselves  to 
their  own  duty,  and  entitle  themselves  to  his  covenanted 
favours ;  but  can  entitle  him  to  nothing,  for  their  all  was 
his  before :  his  contract  shows  his  condescension,  not  de- 
fective title.  And  this  his  antecedent,  original  right,  that 
peculiar  excellency  of  his  nature,  his  justice  to  himself  in- 
violably preserves,  as  the  faithful  guardian  of  all  his  sacred 
rights.  So  that  when  he  undertakes  the  part  of  a  legal 
Governor,  it  indispensably  necessitates  his  doing  whatso- 
ever is  requisite  for  supporting  the  honour  and  dignity  of 
his  government ;  and  can  permit  nothing  that  shall  detract 
from  it,  or  render  it  less  august  and  awfuL 

Yet  need  we  not  here  over  scrupulously  defend  the 
common  notion  of  justice,  in  the  utmost  strictness  of  it, 
that  makes  it  conversant  only  about  another's  right,  and 
seems  therefore  to  imply  that  a  man  can  owe  nothing  to 
himself  That  love  to  others,  which  comprehends  all  our 
duty  to  them,  is  to  be  measured  by  love  to  ourselves, 
which  seems  equally  comprehensive  of  duty  which  we  are 
supposed  to  owe  to  ourselves.  Nor  shall  we  dispute 
whether  in  no  sense  one  can  be  both  creditor  and  debtor; 
or  whether  insobriety  be  not  properly  unrighteousness, 
and  sobriety  justice,  even  towards  oneself;  subordination 
to  God  being  still  preserved,  under  whom,  and  for  whom, 
only  we  can  owe  any  thing  to  ourselves  or  others.  Only 
supposing,  among  men,  such  a  thing  as  self-justice,  it  is 
with  them  a  weaker  and  more  debile  principle,  that  may 
betray  and  lose  their  rights,  which  then  no  justice  can 
reclaim.  Whereas,  with  God,  it  is,  as  all  other  excellen- 
cies are,  in  highest  perfection,  and  hath  always  the  force 
with  him  of  an  eternal  and  immutable  law. 

VIII.  And  if  any  should  imagine  this  to  detract  from 
the  absoluteness  of  God's  dominion  and  sovereignty,  and 
set  him  in  this  respect  beneath  his  own  creatures,  that 
whereas  tkey  can  quit  their  rights,  it  should  be  supposed  he 
cannot  forego  his;  'tis  answered.  It  hath  not  been  said,  that 
God  can  forego  none  of  his  own  rights;  it  is  plain  he  doth 
when  having  the  right  to  punish  a  sinner,  he  by  pardon 
confers  upon  him  right  to  impunity  :  but  he  cannot  do  it  to 
the  prejudice  and  dishonour  of  his  glorious  excellences,  and 
the  dignity  of  his  government.  And  therefore,  if  some 
preparation  were  requisite  to  his  doing  it,  consistently  with 
the  due  honour  and  reputation  thereof,  justice  towards 
himself  required  he  should  insist  upon  it ;  which  is  no  more 
a  detraction  from  his  absoluteness,  than  that  he  cannot  lie, 
or  do  any  thing  unworthy  of  himself.  He  is  f;o  eibsoluf-c, 
that  he  can  do  whatever  he  pleases;  but  so  jvst,  that  he 
cannot  be  pleased  to  do  an  unrighteous  thing. 

IX.  But  besides  that  stricter  notion  of  God's  justice,  as 
k  is  conversant  about,  and  conservative  of,  his  own  rights ; 
we  may  also  consider  it  in  a  larger  and  more  comprehen- 
sive notion,  as  it  includes  his  several  moral  attributes  and 
excellences,  and  answers  to  that  which  among  men  is 
called  universal  justice,  and  reckoned  to  contain  in  it  all 
virtues.*  For  so  taken,  it  comprehends  his  holiness,  and 
perfect  detestation  of  all  impurity,  in  respect  whereof  he 
cannot  be  perpetually  inclined  to  animadvert  with  severity 
upon  sin ;  both  because  of  its  irreconcilable  contrariety 

A  'Ev  6eiucaioavvm  ffvXXij/J^ijv  irof  a/ier'  ff'. 


to  his  holy  nature,  and  the  insolent  affront  which  it  there- 
lore  directly  oilers  him  ;  and  because  of  the  implicit,  most 
injurious  misrepresentation  of  him,  which  it  contains  in  it, 
as  if  he  were  either  kindly  or  more  indifferently  affected 
towards  it:  upon  which  accounts,  we  may  well  suppose 
him  to  esteem  it  necessary  for  him,  both  to  constitute  a 
rule  for  punishing  it,  and  to  punish  it  accordingly ;  that 
he  may  both  truly  act  his  own  nature,  and  truly  represc/ii 
it. 

X.  And  again,  if  we  take  the  notion  of  his  justice  ia 
this  latitude,  it  will  comprehend  his  governing  vnsdom; 
the  part  of  which  attribute  it  is,  to  determine  and  direct  the 
doing  whatsoever  is  fit  to  be  determined  and  done  ;  as  it  is 
the  part  of  his  righteousness  (taken  in  the  strictest  sense) 
to  resolve  upon  and  execute  whatever  the  rules  of  justice 
do  require  and  call  for.  'Tis  the  judge  of  decencies,  or 
what  is  meet  and  becoming  him,  a-s  the  Lord  and  Ruler  of 
the  world,  to  do  or  not  do.  And  a  very  reasonable  account 
might  be  given  of  this  matter,  that  we  may  renew  and 
somewhat  further  insist  on  what  was  said  above,  chap.  vL 
s.  5,  &c.  There  are  many  just  laws  made  by  hunran  le- 
gislators, to  the  making  whereof,  though  justice  (in  the 
strictest  sense)  did  not  rigidly  oblige  them,  so  that  they 
had  been  unjust  if  they  had  not  made  them,  yet  this  other 
principle,  of  equal  importance  to  government,  and  which 
also  doth  not  altogether  refuse  the  name  of  justice,  might 
require  the  making  them,  and  would  not  be  well  comport- 
ed with  by  omitting  to  make  them. 

Hereupon  therefore  if  it  should  be  inquired.  Was  it, 
antecedently  to  the  making  of  this  constitution,  an  indif- 
ferent thing  with  God,  whether  to  determine  sin  should 
be  punished,  or  not  1  I  answer,  even  upon  this  ground.  No; 
it  was  not  indifferent,  but  most  indispensably  necessary. 
Any  thing  is  with  him  necessary,  as  he  is  the  Supreme 
Governor,  that  is  upon  a  prudential  account  most  fit  and 
conducible  to  the  ends  of  government  An  antecedent 
necessity  we  might  therefore  assert,  such  as  not  only  arises 
from  his  justice,  most  strictly  taken,  but  his  wisdom  also; 
whose  part  it  is  to  judge  of  congruities,  as  it  is  the  part  of 
strict  justice  to  determine  matters  of  right.  Nor  is  it  unfit 
to  say,  Wisdom  is  the  chief  principle  exercised  in  making 
laws,  justice  in  governing  according  to  laws  already  made. 
I  say,  the  chief;  for  justice  hath  that  part  in  legislation 
too,  which  hath  been  assigned  it,  as  wisdom  hath  also  its 
part  in  the  consequent  administration.  And  what  can  be 
more  necessary  to  the  great  God,  than  to  do  ever  what  is 
most  becoming  and  worthy  of  himself?  And  what  could 
have  been  so  becoming  of  him,  as  to  let  it  appear  to  the 
world  how  sacred  the  rights  of  his  empire  over  ii  are  1  how 
horrid  a  thing  the  defection  of  a  reasonable  creature  is. 
from  the  great  Author  and  Lord  of  its  life  and  being?  how 
costly  an  expiation  it  did  require  1  how  solemn  rights 
were  to  be  performed  1  how  great  and  awful  transactions, 
that  sin  might  become  pardonable  1  What  could  so  tend 
to  exalt  majesty,  to  magnify  the  reputation  of  his  govern- 
ment, to  possess  his  reasonable  creatures  with  awful  ap- 
prehensions, and  make  them  dread  to  offend  1  In  a  pru- 
dent government,  how  great  a  thing  is  reason  of  state ! 
Even  where  there  is  the  greatest  inclination  imaginable  to 
be  in  all  things  most  strictly  and  unexceptionably  just,  yet 
is  that  the  only  care  with  prudent  governors,  that  they 
mavbe  able  to  approve  the  justice  of  their  administrations  1 
There  are  manv  things  which,  without  transgressing  par- 
ticular rules  of  justice,  misht  have  been  omitted,  from 
which  vet,  upon  mere  reason  of  state,  you  can  no  more 
make  them  swerve  one  ace,  than  you  can  remove  the  earth 
from  its  centre,  or  change  the  ordinances  of  day  and  nieht : 
and  whereas  that  hath  place  in  all  things  that  tend  to  the 
keeping  up  the  reputation  and  grandeur  of  govemment, 
where  can  it  claim  to  have  place  with  equal  right  asliere  1 
Whereupon  we  mav,  with  greatest  assurance,  assert,  that 
in  thingswhichhave  this  reference,  'tis  equally  impossible 
to  the  absolute  perfection  of  the  divine  nature,  that  God 
should  do  an  inept  or  unfit  thing,  as  an  unjust.  And 
whereas  his  righteousness  is  the  directive  principle,  in 
respect  of  equity  or  iniquity ;  so  is  his  wisdom,  of  congruity 
and  incongruitV,  decencv  and  indecency;  and  that  'tis^ 
equally  necessary  to  hini  to  do  what  is  most  worthy  ol 


93 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  II. 


himself,  and  most  becomins;  his  excellent  greatness,  as 
what  is  most  strictly  just.  Therefore  that  when  his  most 
transcendant  greatness  is  represented  m  terms  as  high  and 
great  as  could  come  under  human  conception,  (Heb.  li.  10.) 
He,  viz.  for  whom  arc  all  things,  and  by  whom  are  all 
ihi'ngs ;  (and  what  could  sound  higher'?)  As  such  it  is 
considered  what  was  most  becoming  of  him  ;  and  deter- 
mined that  it  became  Him,  for  and  by  whom  all  things 
were,  since  there  was  one  (though  so  great  a  one)  that  had  j 
undertaken  for  sinners,  to  be  the  Prince  or  Prefect  t  over 
the  great  affair  of  their  salvation,  especially  being  to  make  | 
them,  of  rebels,  sons,  and  as  such,  bring  them  to  glory,  | 
.out  of  the  meanest  and  most  abject  state ;  that  he  should 
.not  be  made  perfect,  (not  be  duly  initiated  into  his  great 
■office,  or  not  be  complete  master  of  his  design,)  otherwise 
than  by  his  own  intervening  suffering.  Meaner  persons 
might  do  as  became  their  meaner  condition  ;  but  He,  for 
whom  are  all  things,  and  by  whom  are  all  things,  must  do 
as  best  became  the  most  glorious  greatness  of  Him,  who 
is  the  First  and  the  Last,  the  Author  and  End  of  all 
things  ■?  ^ 

XI.  We  are  prone  to  confine  our  apprehensions  of 
things  to  our  own  narrow  sphere,  that  have  reference  also 
to  another  besides,  and  greater  than  ours.  If  God  had  no 
creatures  but  man,  capable  of  government  by  laws,  the 
case  had  been  much  other  than  it  is ;  for  considering  that 
men  have  all  been  in  one  common  case  of  apostacy  and 
condemnation,  they  who  should  be  restored  to  favour  and 
a  happy  state,  should  have  no  reason  to  look  strangely  upon 
one  another,  whatsoever  the  way  and  terms  were  of  their 
restitution,  being  all  dealt  with  alike.  But  we  are  to  de- 
sign a  larger  field  and  scene  for  our  thoughts,  and  to  con- 
sider, that  besides  men,  that  shall  be  restored  from  a  fallen 
and  lapsed  state,  there  are  numberless  myriads  of  pure 
and  loyal  spirits,  that  never  fell,  and  with  whom  restored 
men  are  to  make  one  entire,  happy  community,  for  ever. 
Now  we  are  to  consider  what  aspect  the  matter  would  have 
in  their  eyes,  if  not  a  single  person,  or  two,  but  so  vast  a 
multitude,  (and  not  guilty  of  some  light,  transient  offence 
only,  but  of  insolent,  malicious  enmity  and  rebellion 
against  the  divine  government,  propagated  and  transmitted 
from  age  to  age,  through  all  the  successions  of  time,) 
should  be  brought  in  upon  them,  to  partake  in  the  dignities 
and  blessedness  of  their  state,  without  any  reparation  made 
of  so  great  and  continuing  an  injury !  Though  their  perfect 
subjection  in  all  things  to  the  good  pleasure  of  God  would 
not  allow  them  to  be  exceptions,  and  apt  to  censure  his 
doings  or  determinations,  yet  also  his  most  perfect  wisdom 
and  exact  judgment,  and  knov/ledge  of  what  is  in  itself 
most  fit,  could  much  less  admit  he  should  do  any  thing 
liable  to  be  censured  by  his  creatures,  as  less  fit.  And  no 
doubt  so  large  and  capacious  intellects  may  well  be  sup- 
posed to  penetrate  far  into  the  reason  and  wisdom  of  his 
dispensations;  and  so  not  only  to  exercise  submission,  in 
an  implicit  acquiescence  in  the  unseen  and  only  believed 
fitness  of  them,  but  also  to  take  an  inexpressible  compla- 
cency and  satisfaction  in  what  they  manifestly  discern 
thereof,  and  'o  be  able  to  resolve  their  delectation  in  the 
ways  and  works  of  God  into  a  higlier  cause  and  reason 
than  the  mere  general  belief  that  he  doth  all  things  well ; 
viz.  their  immediate,  delightful  viewof  tlie  congruity  and 
fitness  of  what  he  does.  When  they  behold  the  apostacy 
and  revolt  of  the  sons  of  men  expiated  not  by  one  of  them- 
selves, but  with  whom  the  Divine  Nature,  in  his  own  Son, 
was  so  intimately  united,  that  the  atonement  made  was 
both  fit,  as  from  them,  and  adequate,  as  to  him  :  this  they 
cannot  but  behold  with  complacential  approbation  and 
admiration ;  for,  no  doubt,  he  made  creatures  of  such  a 
capacity,  with  a  design  to  gratify  the  understandings  he 
gave  them,  by  approving  and  recommending  the  exactness 
and  accuracy  of  his  methods  thereto ;  otherwise,  a  far 
lower  measure  of  intellectual  ability,  in  these  creatures, 
had  answered  the  Creator's  purpose  as  well.  They  cer- 
tainly cannot  but  approve  that  way  lie  hath  taken,  for 
itself;  and  do  doubtless  stoop  down  to  look  into  it,  not  with 
less  complacency  than  wonder;  it  being,  in  the  congruity 
of  it,  as  suitable  to  their  bright  and  clear  intellects,  being 
revealed,  as  for  the  strange  contrivance  thereof  it  had  been 

b  apxnyoi'. 


altogether  above  them,  if  it  had  not  been  revealed.  They 
cannot,  Avhen  they  behold  a  full,  glorious  vindication  of 
the  offence  and  wrong  done  to  their  common  Lord,  and 
the  dignity  of  his  government,  by  his  revolted  creatures 
antecedent  to  the  reception  of  any  of  them  into  grace  and 
favour,  but  highly  admire  the  lovely  comeliness  and  con- 
gruity of  this  whole  di.spensation,  and  express  their  plea- 
sant resentments,  by  bearing  a  part  with  the  redeemed 
society  in  such  strains  of  praise,  such  admirations  and  ap- 
plauses, as  these  :  "  Holy  and  marvellous  are  thy  works, 
LordGod  Almighty ;  just  and  true  are  thy  judgments,  thou 
King  of  nations  and  of  saints!" 

XII.  Upon  the  whole,  there  appears  sufficient  reason  to 
conclude,  not  only  upon  the  account  of  justice  more  strictly 
taken,  but  also  of  congruity  and  fitness,  or  according  to 
such  a  larger  notion  of  justice  as  imports  an  inflexible 
propension  to  do  what  is  fit  and  congruous  to  be  done,  it 
was  indispensably  necessary  the  holy  God  should,  in  order 
to  his  return  to  his  temple  among  men,  insist  to  have  a 
recompense  made  for  the  wrong  that  was  done  him  by  the 
violation  of  it.  Nor  let  this  be  understood  to  detract  from, 
but  add  to,  what  hath  been  above  discoursed  of  justice, 
taken  in  a  mo.st  strict  sense,  and  most  appropriate  to  God, 
as  it  is,  primarily  and  in  the  first  place,  conservative  of 
his  own  most  sacred  rights;  which  must  be,  by  conse- 
quence, vindictive  of  the  violation  of  them :  and  this  is 
the  original  justice,  (as  his  are  the  original  rights,  and  the 
fountain  of  all  other,)  and  must  have  had  place,  though  he 
had  settled  no  express  constitution  of  government.  And 
also  as,  secondarily,  it  is  conservative  of  the  rights  of  the 
governed  community,  which,  by  the  constitution,  once 
settled,  accrue  to  it. 

Whereupon  also  it  maybe  understood,  in  what  sense 
punishments,  passively  taken,  are  to  be  accounted  debts. 
And  it  is  fitter  to  distinguish,  and  thereupon  to  explain, 
how  they  are  or  are  not  so,  than  at  random  to  deny  they 
are  so  at  all,  when  our  Lord  hath  taught  us  to  pray,  "  For- 
give us  our  debts;"  and  when  it  is  so  plain  in  itself,  that 
he  who  by  delinquency  hath  forfeited  his  life,  is  most  truly 
said  to  owe  it  to  justice.  Yea,  and  when,  though  the 
creditor  pmna  is  said  not  to  be  so  easily  assignable,  yet  no 
doubt  at  all  is  made  concerning  the  debtor ;  for  how  ab- 
surdly should  he  be  said  to  be  a  debtor,  that  owes  no  debt ! 
Therefore  punishments  are  not  of  the  nature  of  those 
debts,  that  according  to  the  rules  of  communicative  justice, 
arise  by  contract  between  man  and  man  ;  and  which,  as 
they  arise  by  consent  between  the  two  covenanting  parties, 
may  as  well  cease  by  consent.  But  nothing  hinders,  but 
they  may  be  such  debts  as  are  to  be  estimated  by  the  dis- 
tributive justice  of  rulers,  whereof  we  must  either  say,  that 
of  some,  justice  doth  oblige  human  and  secular  rulers  to 
exact  the  punishment ;  or  else,  that  magistratical  justice 
would  allow  the  remitting  of  all,  and  that  no  offences  of 
any  kind  be  ever  at  all  punished.  But  if  the  justice  of  any 
secular  rulers  oblige  them  to  punish  some  oflienders,  then 
most  of  all  that  of  the  supreme  and  most  absolute  Ruler 
and  Lord  of  all,  whose  rights  are  natural,  and  depend  not 
on  our  consent,  or  any  contract  with  us,  no  more  than  our 
consent  was  previous  to  our  coming  into  being,  or  our 
becoming  his  creatures  ;  and  whose  justice  must  be  more 
concerned  to  protect  and  vindicate  his  rights,  than  that  of 
any  earthly  governor  can  be  to  preserve  the  rights  of  even 
the  most  considerable  community :  no  community,  nor  all 
taken  together,  nor  even  the  whole  creation,  being  of  any 
comparable  value  with  the  interest  of  the  supreme  and 
universal  Ruler,  himself  alone;  in  respect  of  whom  all 
nations  are  as  the  "  drop  of  the  bucket,"  &c.  especially  if 
we  add,  (though  that  be  but  of  secondary  consideration,) 
that  the  rights  of  the  greatest,  even  the  universal  commu- 
nity of  all  mankind,  are  involved  with  his  own,  and  that 
their  common  peace  and  order  are  to  be  preserved  by 
punishments,  even  eternal  ones,  not  as  executed,  but  as 
threatened ;  which,  as  hath  been  said,  made  the  execution 
necessary,  where  the  terms  and  method  of  remission  are 
not  complied  with. 

And  whereas  it  is  reckoned  difficult  to  assign  the  cre- 
ditor pcena:,  the  reason  of  that  is  not  difficult  to  be  assigned, 
if  we  consider  what  the  true  notion  of  a  creditor  is.    And 


Chap.  VIII. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


93 


:t  is  not  taken  passively,  for  him  who  is  intrusted  with  ano- 
ther's rights,  at  least  is  not  so  to  be  limited ;  inasmuch  as 
a  man  may  be  more  properly  creditor  of  what  is  his  own 
than  of  what  is  another's;  but  actively,  for  one  who  trusts 
another.  But  the  debitor  poena  is  not  intrusted  with  any 
thing,  but  is  only  to  be  punished  when  he  can  be  met  with, 
and  duly  brought  thereto ;  and  therefore  is  not  bound  to 
offer  himself  to  punishment,  as  another  debtor  is  to  pay 
what  he  owes  ;  who  is  to  be  active  in  the  solution ;  the  de- 
linquent, passive  only  ;  whence  dare  panas  is  rightly  in- 
terpreted to  siiffer  punishment.  And  that  this  is  all  he  is 
obliged  to,  is  plain,  if  we  consider  that  it  is  not  the  precept 
of  the  law  that  in  this  case  obliges  him,  which  only  obliges 
to  the  doing  of  duty,  but  the  annexed  commination,  which 
can  only  oblige  to  undergo  punishment. 

Creditor  indeed  is  chosen  as  a  fit  word  to  express  the 
correlative  unto  debitor  pasna ,-  but  by  it  we  are  to  under- 
stsuid  no  more  than  only  the  object  of  this  solution  :  so  in 
iiuman  governments,  the  governor  is  improperly,  viz.  as 
be  is  intrusted  with  the  rights  of  the  community.     But  in 
■^     ■        the  divine  government,  God  himself,  originally  and  radi- 
i  S^      cally,  as  he  is  Maker  and  Lord  of  all ;  immediately  and 
<   ».         formally,  as  he  is  the  supreme  Ruler,  and  such  a  one  there- 
fore as  governs  principally,  sua  jure,  and  for  himself,  not 
for  others.     For  he  cannot  hut  be  his  own  supreme  end ; 
that  he  also  doth  undertake  the  care  of  the  concernments 
and  good  of  others,  is  of  mere  vouchsafement  and  conde- 
scension, not  from  any  antecedent  obligation  so  to  do. 

The  sum  of  all  therefore  is,  that  whether  we  take  Divine 
justice  in  the  larger  sense,  as  it  comprehends  all  the  moral 
excellences  that  relate  to  the  government  of  God  overman, 
especially  his  wisdom  and  his  holiness,  or  whether  we 
take  it  in  a  stricter  sense,  for  a  principle  inclining  him  to 
maintain  and  vindicate  the  rights  and  dignity  of  his  go- 
vernment, it  did  direct  as  well  his  making  a  constitution 
for  the  punishing  of  affronts  and  offences  committed 
against  it,  as  to  proceed  according  to  it,  so  as  not  to  remit 
such  injuries  to  the  offender  without  most  sufficient  re- 
compense. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  first  head  thus  far  insisted  on,  that  a  sufficient  recompense  was  necessary : 
the  second  succeeds,  that  no  less  was  sufficient  than  that  made  by  Emmanuel, 
liishonour  to  have  insisted  nn  less.  What  the  divine  estimate  in  this  matter 
was.  his  own  word  shows.  His  love  to  oHenders  otherwise  under  restraint. 
Proposed  to  consideration,  1  How  ^reat  tilings  were  to  be  remitted,  the  sins 
of  all  tinips,  and  ages.  Not  from  nisufficiency  unapplicable  to  all  sinners. 
Remission  to  be  granted,  by  a  universal  law.  2.  How  great  to  be  vouclisafed. 
Wliich  follows. 

I.  2.  And  so  much  being  clear,  there  is  less  need  to 
insist  copiously  in  showing  what  comes  next  to  be  con- 
sidered; that"*  no  recompense  could  be  sufficient  for  ex- 
piating the  wrong  done  by  the  violation  of  God's  temple 
among  men,  and  the  laying  its  foundations  anew,  besides 
that  which  hath  been  made  by  the  Son  of  God,  Emmanuel, 
God  with  us  :  becoming  him.self  first  an  original  Temple, 
a  Man,  inhabited  with  all  the  fulness  of  God,  and  then 
made  also  a  Sacrifice  to  the  offended  majesty  and  justice 
of  Heaven,  for  those  great  and  high  purposes,  the  expia- 
ting the  indignity  of  violating  God's  former  temple,  and 
the  raising,  forming,  and  beautifying  il  anew,  in  conformi- 
ty to  its  present  pattern  and  original ;  and  then  possessing, 
inhabiting,  and  restoring  the  Divine  presence  in  it. 

II.  For  as  it  hath  been  shown  already,  that  this  recom- 
pense could  not  but  be  full,  and  apt  to  answer  these  pur- 

Eoses;  so  it  is  in  itself  evident,  that  whatsoever  should 
e  tendered  in  the  name  of  a  recompence,  ought  to  he  full, 
and  proportionable  to  the  wrong  done,  and  to  the  favours 
afterwards  to  be  shown  to  the  transgressors. 

For  it  were  manifestly  more  ht)nourable  and  worthy  of 
God  not  to  have  exacted  any  recompense  at  all,  than  to 
have  accepted,  in  the  name  of  a  sacrifice,  such  as  were 
unproportionable,  and  beneath  the  value  of  what  was  to 
be  remitted  and  conferred.  What  had  been  lower  must 
have  been  infuiitely  lower ;  let  any  thing  be  supposed  less 
than  God,  and  it  falls  immensely  short  of  him.     Such  is 

a  Which  i»  the  second  head  proposed  to  be  discoursed,  ch.  vi.  s.  2. 


the  distance  between  created  being  and  uncreated,  that 
the  former  is  as  nothing  to  the  latter;  and  therefore,  bring 
the  honour  and  majesty  of  the  Deity  to  any  thing  less  than 
an  equal  value,  and  you  bring  it  to  nothing.  And  this 
had  been  quite  to  lo.se  the  design  of  insisting  upon  a  re- 
compense ;  it  had  been  to  make  the  majesty  of  Heaven 
cheap,  and  depreciate  the  dignitj-  of  the  divine  govern- 
ment, instead  of  rendering  it  august  and  great.  Therefore 
the  whole  constitution  of  En)manuel,  his  undertaking,  per- 
formances, and  acquisitions,  ai)pearto  have  been  not  only 
apt,  suitable,  and  sufilcient  to  the  intended  purposes, 
(which  was  first  proposed  to  be  shown,)  but  also  requisite 
and  necessary  thereto. 

III.  And  for  the  evincing  hereof,  let  us  apply  our  minds 
to  meditate  silently  and  intently  awhile  on  those  words  of 
our  Lord,  (John  x.  17.)  "  Therefore  doth  my  Father  love 
me,  because  I  lay  down  my  life:"  and  let  us  consider 
them  -with  that  reverence  which  we  cannot  but  conceive 
due  to  words  we  esteem  most  sacred  and  divine  ;  i.  e.  thai 
they  could  not  be  rashly  or  lightly  spoken  :  whereupon,  let 
us  bethink  ourselves.  Have  those  words  a  meaning  1  T'his, 
our  awful  regard  to  the  venerable  greatness  of  Him  that 
spoke  them,  cannot  suffer  us  to  doubt.  And  if  they  mean 
any  thing,  it  is  impossible  they  should  not  mean  some- 
what most  profound  and  great;  somewhat  that  implies  a 
reference  to  a  peculiar  Qt'nrpcrii,i.  e.  a  divine  decorum,  that 
as  an  eternal  law  perpetually  conducts  all  the  propen- 
sions  and  determinations  of  God's  most  perfect  will,  that 
could  by  no  means  suffer  any  violation  :  what  wa^;  most 
becoming  of  God  ;  viz.  what  might  best  "  become  him, 
for  whom  are  all  things,  and  by  whom  are  all  things;" 
(Heb.  ii.  10.)  worthy  of  the  great,  all-comprehending, 
central,  original  Being,  from  whence  all  things  sprang, 
and  wherein  all  terminate.  Here  is  some  gradual  reieclion 
(if  we  consider  what  immediately  follows,  "  in  bringing 
many  sons  to  glory,"  &c.)  of  the  veiled  arcana  of  the  Di- 
vine Being:  if  we  may,  on  so  fit  occasion,  allude  to  the  in- 
scription in  the  Egyptian  temple,  elsewhere  mentioned  in 
this  discourse — "  I  am  all  that  was,  and  is,  and  shall  be, 
and  who  is  he  that  shall  draw  aside  my  veil  ?"  Here  is, 
in  some  part,  a  withdrawing  of  that  sacred  veil,  by  Hira  to 
whom  by  prerogative  it  belonged,  and  of  whom  it  is  said, 
"  No  man  hath  seen  God  at  any  time,  but  the  only-begot- 
ten Son,  who  is  in  the  bosom  of  the  Father,  he  hath  de- 
clared him,"  John  i.  IS.  Here  is  some  disclosure  of  the 
mystery  of  God,  of  the  Father,  (Col.  ii.  2.)  in  whom  the 
Divine  nature  was  primarily,  and  as  in  that  first  founiain ; 
and  of  Christ,  the  mystery  of  the  Mediator,  of  whom  Christ 
was  the  distinguishing  name.  The  agreement,  hitherto 
inconceivable  and  most  mysterious,  of  the  absolute  purity 
and  perfection  of  the  Divine  nature,  with  the  admirable 
mercifulness  of  the  constitution  of  Emmanuel,  of  God  and 
man  united  in  one,  in  order  to  the  reconciliation  of  the 
holy,  blessed  God,  with  unholy,  miserable  man.  How  was 
it  to  be  brought  about,  in  a  way  becoming  him  for  whom 
and  by  whom  all  things  were,  so  great,  so  august  a  Majes- 
ty !  that  He  should  admit  that  so  despicable  and  rebellious 
a  race  should  not  only  be  saved,  but  be  made  sonsl  This 
could  never  be,  though  his  immense  and  boundless  love 
most  strongly  inclined  him  to  it,  but  by  their  having  one 
of  highest  dignity,  his  own  Son,  set  as  a  Prince  or  Prefect 
t)ver  the  whole  affair  of  their  salvation  ;  nor  by  him  but 
upon  his  own  intervening  suffering  !  This  was  according 
to  fixed  rule  indispensably  necessary;  i.  e.  by  the  inviola- 
ble maxims  of  the  Divine  government.  But  because, 
through  the  inconceivable  riches  of  his  own  goodness,  this 
was  a  thing  he  was  most  propense  unto,  and  intent  upon  ; 
yet  because  the  death  of  his  own  Son  in  their  stead  could 
neither  be  meritorious  nor  just,  without  his  own  free  con- 
sent, therefore,  says  our  Lord,  doth  my  Father  love  me, 
because  I  lay  down  my  life — What  conceivable  reason 
can  there  be  of  this  connexion,  ("  He  therefore  loves  me. 
because  I  lay  down  my  life,")  without  the  concurrence  of 
these  two  things  to  be  considered  conjunctly  1  A  most  in- 
tense, vehement  love  to  a  perishing  world.  An  inflexible 
regard  to  the  eterna',  immutable  measures  of  right  and 
wrong,  fit  and  unfit,  decent  and  indecent,  that  had  their 
fixed,  everlasting  seat  in  the  mind  of  God. 


94 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  II. 


IV.  The  former  made  the  cMfi  necessary,  the  preventini,' 
the  total,  eternal  ruin  of  a  lost  world ;  the  latter  made  the 
Son  of  God's  death,  and  his  own  consenl  thereto,  the  neces- 
sary means  to  this  end.  The  former,  viz.  the  end,  was  not 
otherwise  necessary  than  upon  supposition;  it  was  not  so 
absolutely  necessary,  that  by  any  means,  right  or  wrong, 
fit  or  unfit,  such  a  ruin  (even  most  deserved^  must  be  pre- 
vented. But  it  was  so  far  necessary,  as  tnat  if,  by  any 
rightful  and  decorous  means,  this  ruin  could  be  prevented 
as  to  many,  and  a  contrary  blessed  state  of  perpetual  life 
be  attained  by  them,  this  must  be  efiected  and  brought 
about  for  them.  Not,  'lis  true,  for  all  offenders,  but  as 
many  as  the  like  eternal,  indispensable  means  and  mea- 
sures of  equal  and  imequal,  fit  and  unfit,  capable  and  in- 
capable, should  not  exclude. 

All  this  we  have  in  that  most  admirable  text  of  Scrip- 
ture, (John  iii.  16.)  "God  .so  loved  the  world,  that  he  gave 
his  only-begotten  Son,  that  whosoever  believeth  in  him 
should  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  life."  So  loved! 
The  matter  is  signified  in  such  a  way,  as  to  leave  all  men 
amazed  !  and  by  their  astonishment  to  supply  their  most 
defective  conception  of  so  stupendous  a  love.  The  ^corUl 
is  an  indefinite  term,  that  contains  the  special  and  the 
afterwards  specified  object  of  this  love;  not  a  single  per- 
son, but  a  whole  race  of  intelligent  creatures,  a  world 
inhabited  by  such,  that  were  not  to  be  left,  and  finally  all 
swallowed  up  together  in  one  common  ruin  ;  that  upon 
this  account  he  gave  his  only-begotten  Son  to  death,  as 
the  event  and  known  design  showed.  And  how  incon- 
ceivable must  his  love  be  tohisonly-begoUen  Son  !  "  The 
Brightness  of  his  glory,  the  express  Image  of  his  person  !" 
always  his  delight !  Yet  rather  than  allthis  world  should 
be  lost  for  ever.  He  is  thus  given  up !  "  That  whosoever 
believe  on  him,  should  not  perish,"  &c.  which  expresses 
the  certain,  specified,  declared  object  of  this  love :  leaving 
them  certainly  excluded,  who,  after  sufficient  proposal,  re- 
fuse their  homage  to  the  throne  of  Emmanuel;  choose 
rather  their  forlorn  souls  should  be  for  ever  forsaken  of 
the  Divine  presence,  than  unite  with  him,  and  surrender 
themselves  to  him,  by  whom  alone  they  might  be  refitted, 
an  imated  again,  and  inhabited  as  his  living  temples.  Their 
exclusion  is  necessary,  by  such  measures  as  those,  by 
which  such  means  were  necessary  to  the  salvation  and 
ble-ssedness  of  the  others.  But  who  can  doubt  hereupon, 
but  that  this  course  was  indispensably  necessary  to  this 
end?  Especially  if  (reviewing  that  first-mentionsd  text) 
we  consider,  that  our  Lord  represents  his  laying  down  his 
life  as  an  une.xpressible  additional  endearment  of  him  to 
the  Father :  q.  d.  "  O  thou  Son  of  my  delights,  thou  hast 
now  set  my  love  to  lost  souls  at  liberty,  that  hath  been 
ever  pregnant  with  great  and  godlike  designs  towards  them, 
and  that  must  otherwi.se  have  been  under  perpetual  re- 
straint:" which  is  most  evidently  implied. 

V.  But  it  may  be  said.  Could  the  love  of  God  be  under 
restraint  1  And  I  say  no,  it  could  not;  therefore,  to  the 
all-comprehending  Mind,  where  ends  and  means  lie  con- 
nected together  under  one  permanent,  eternal  view,  this 
course  presented  itself,  as  peculiarly  accommodate  to  this 
end;  and  was  therefore  eternally  determined  by  easy  con- 
cert between  the  Father  and  the  Son,  not  to  remedy,  but 
prevent  any  such  restraint.  Yet  it  may  be  further  urged, 
Cannot  the  absoluteness  and  omnipotency  of  a  God  enable 
him  to  satisfy  his  own  propensions,  if  it  were  to  save  never 
so  many  thousand  worlds  of  offending  creatures,  without 
taking  such  a  circuit  as  this "?  It  was  once  said  to  a  human 
mortal  king,  that  had  about  him  but  a  thin  shadow  of 
sovereignty,  Dost  thou  now  govern  Israel,  and  not  make 
thy  will  any  way  take  place  1  Much  more  might  it  here 
be  said,  Dost  thou  govern  the  world  1  Art  thou  not  God  1 
Yes  !  and  may  freely  say,  I  can  the  less,  for  that  I  am  God, 
do  what  is  not  Godlike;  i.  e.  can  therefore  the  less  break 
through  established,  eternal  measures,  and  counteract  ni}^- 
self  I  must  do  as  becomes  Him,  for  whom  and  by  whom 
are  all  things.  Others  may  assume  to  themselves  an  ima- 
gined, unhallowed  liberty  of  pursuing,  at  the  next,  their 
own  inclinations;  but  it  is  beneath  divine  greatness  to  do 
so.  Yet  in  this  case  (it  may  be  further  said)  why  did  not 
love  to  his  Son  preponderate?  Which  our  Lord  himself 
in  great  part  obviates  by  whnt  is  subjoined— "because  I 
lay  down  my  life."     How  ?     With  a  power  and  design  to 


take  it  again,  as  v.  18.  "  I  have  power  to  lay  it  down, 
and  I  have  power  to  take  it  again,  q.  d.  This  is  a  matter 
agreed,  I  am  not  to  lie  under  a  perpetual  death  ;  that  could 
neither  be  grateful  to  my  Father,  nor  is  in  itself  possible. 
But  as  things  are  staled,  I  am  prepared  to  endure  the 
cross,  and  despise  the  shame,  for  the  joy  set  before  me ; 
which  joy  will  be  everlastingly  common  to  him  and  me, 
and  to  the  whole  redeemed  community,  according  to  their 
measure."  But  was  all  this  unnecessary  trifling  1  What 
serious  man's  reverence  of  Deity  can  let  him  endure  to 
harbour  so  profane  a  thought  1  Therefore  take  we  now 
the  entire  state  of  this  matter,  as  it  lies  plainlj^  in  view  be- 
fore us,  in  these  texts  of  Scripture.  1.  Here  is  an  unex- 
pressibie  love  of  God  to  undone,  lost  sinners.  2.  Here  is 
a  plain  intimation  that  this  love  must  have  been  under  a 
suspension  and  a  restraint,  if  God's  own  Son  had  not  laid 
down  his  life  for  them.  3.  It  is  as  plainly  signified,  that 
the  Son  of  God's  laying  down  his  life  for  them,  was,  in 
divine  estimate,  a  sufficient  expedient  to  prevent  this  re- 
straint upon  his  love  to  sinners.  4.  That  this  expedient 
was  reckoned  by  tJie  blessed  God  more  eligible,  than  that 
his  love  to  sinners  should  be  under  perpetual,  everlasting 
restraint.  5.  That  it  was  only  reckoned  more  eligible,  as 
there  was  a  conjunct  consideration  had  of  his  laying  it 
down,  with  a  power  and  design  of  resuming  and  taking  it 
again.  6.  That  therefore,  as  the  eternal  God  had  a  most 
constant,  unquestionable  love  to  his  only-begotten  Son, 
his  love  to  him  hath  a  peculiar  and  most  complacential 
exercise,  on  the  account  of  his  concurring  with  him  upon 
this  expedient ;  choosing  rather  to  endure  all  the  dolours 
of  that  "  one  hour,  and  power  of  darkness,"  that  was  to 
come  upon  him,  than  that  a  whole  world  of  rea.sonable 
creatures,  his  own  offspring,  and  bearing  his  own  image, 
should  all  perish  together  everlastingly.  But  who  now 
sees  not  that  this  was  the  determinate  judgment  of  the 
great  God,  viz.  that  his  gracious  designs  towards  guilty 
creatures  were  not  otherwise  to  he  effected,  than  in  this 
way?  And  yet,  for  the  further  clearing  of  this  matter, 
taking  Heb.  x.  4.  that  the  blood  of  the  Lord  Christ,  and 
of  bulls  and  goats,  are  put  in  direct  opposition  to  each 
other;  and  hereupon,  that  it  is  said  of  the  latter,  "It  is 
not  possible  it  should  take  away  sin;"  what  can  that  imply 
less,  than  that  the  former  was  necessary  to  the  taking  it 
away  ?  Let  us  but  appeal  to  ourselves,  what  else  can  it 
mean  ?  Will  we  say,  though  sin  could  not  be  taken  away 
by  the  blood  of  bulls  and  goats,  it  might  by  some  nobler 
sacrifice  of  an  intermediate  value  ?  But  is  not  this  mani- 
festly precluded,  and  barred  by  the  immediateness  of  the 
opposition?  These  two  only  are  in  competition,  and  it  is 
said,  not  this,  but  that.  Other  sacrifices  God  would  not; 
(Psal.  xl.  6,  7.)  then,  saith  our  Lord,  "  Lo !  I  come." 
These  are  rejected,  this  is  chosen ;  he  takelh  away  the 
first,  that  he  may  establish  the  second,  Heb.  x.  9.  When 
it  is  said,  (Mic.  vi.  6,  7.)  not  thousands  of  rams,  or  ten 
thousand  rivers  of  oil;  if  one  should  say,  Yea,  but  eleven 
thousand  might  serve  ;  were  not  this  trifling,  not  reason- 
ing ?  Is  it  not  plain  all  other  were  refusable,  for  the  same 
reason  ? 

I  shall  now  somewhat  enlarge  (as  was  formerly  designed) 
upon  the  two  tilings  already  intimated  under  the  foregoing 
head  of  Emmanuel's  sufficiency,  &c.  as  having  acquired 
the  two-fold  power  of  forgiving  sin,  and  giving  the  Spirit. 
And  shall  now  show,  further,  the  necessity  of  his  engaging 
in  this  afrair(the  restoringof  God's  temple)  with  reference 
to  bot?i  these  things,  requisite  thereto. 

And  to  this  purpose,  let  it  be  considered — What  was  to 
be  remitted,  and  what  was  to  be  conferred,  by  the  procure- 
ment. 

1.  What  was  to  be  remitted.  It  was  not  the  single 
trespass  of  one  or  a  few  delinquent  persons,  but  the  revolt 
and  rebellion  of  a  vast  community;  a  universal  hostility 
and  enmity,  continued  and  propagated  through  many  suc- 
cessive agents,  that  was  now,  once  for  all,  to  be  atoned  for. 
It  is  hereupon  to  be  considered — How  great  the  offence 
was  that  must  be  remitted.  The  way  and  manner  in 
which  the  grant  was  to  be  made  of  this  remission. 

1.  How  great  was  the  offence  to  be  remitted  !  A  whole 
race  and  order  of  creatures  had  been  in  a  conspiracy  against 
their  rightful  Lord,  to  deface  his  temple,  tear  down  his 
image,  invade  his  rights,  withhold  and  incapacitate  them- 


Cmv.  VIII. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


95 


selves  for  his  worship,  substitute,  instead  of  that,  highest 
contempt,  banish  his  presence,  and  as  much  as  in  them 
lay  raze  out  his  memorial,  that  he  might  be  no  more 
known,  feared,  or  served  upon  earth !  How  horrid  a 
prospect  had  the  Lord  from  heaven,  when,  from  the  throne 
of  his  glory  there,  he  beheld  the  state  of  thmgs  below ! 
(Ps.  xiv.  2,  3.)  "  The  Lord  looked  down  from  heaven 
upon  the  children  of  men,  to  see  if  any  did  understand, 
and  seek  after  God  ;  they  are  all  gone  back,  none  that  does 
good,  no  not  one."  All  were  become  such  mischievous, 
wicked  fools,  els  to  say,  with  one  consent,  in  their  hearts, — 
No  God !  And  though,  it  is  true,  this  wickedness  was  not 
in  event  to  be  actually  remitted  to  all,  the  case  was  to  be 
so  stated,  that  remission  might  be  universally  offered  ;  and 
that  it  be  left  to  lie  upon  men's  own  score  if  it  were  not 
accepted ;  and  therefore,  that  a  sacrifice  must  be  offered 
up,  of  no  less  value  than  if  every  single  transgressor  was 
to  have  his  actual,  sealed  pardon. 

VI.  For  let  it  be  considered  what  sort  of  transgressors 
are  excluded  the  benefit  of  remission,  on  the  account  of 
that  great  Sacrifice  that  once  for  all  was  offered  up  ;  and 
we  find  it  not  difficult  to  apprehend  other  most  important 
reasons  why  they  are  excluded ;  but  no  colour  of  a  reason 
that  it  should  be  for  want  of  sufficient  value  in  this  Sacri- 
fice. 

i.  As  for  the  angels  that  fell,  though  their  case  comes 
not  directly  under  our  present  consideration,  yet  occasion- 
ally, and  as  (d  fortiori)  we  may  argue  from  it,  some 
thoughts  may  usefully  be  employed  about  it.  The  Divine 
pleasure  herein  is  indeed  intimated,  in  the  Son  of  God's 
not  taking  tkeir  nature,  but  ours  ;  and  his  known  measure 
of  showing  mercy  is,  that  he  will  show  mercy,  because  he 
will  show  mercy.  Yet,  whereas  we  find  that  the  most 
sovereign  act  of  grace,  the  predestinating  of  some  to  the 
adoption  of  children,  is  ascribed  to  the  good  pleasure, 
(Eph.  i.  5.)  the  same  act  is  ascribed  also  to  the  counsel 
of  his  will,  I'.  II.  And  when  we  see  the  apostle  in  that 
holy  transport,  (Rom.  xi.  33.)  crying  out,  in  contempla- 
tion of  distinguishing  mercy,  w  pa9os — Othe  depth!  he  doth 
not  say  of  the  sovereign  power,  but  of  the  wisdovi  and 
knowledge  of  God  ;  and  admires  the  unsearchableness,  not 
of  his  arbitrary  determinations,  but  of  his  judgments  and 
wa)''s,  or  judicial  proceedings  towards  them  that  believed, 
or  believed  not:  (Ps.  xxx.  31,  32.)  implying  he  had  rea- 
sons to  himself,  though  past  our  finding  out,  of  his  different 
proceedings  towards  some,  and  others.  And  as  for  the 
angels  that  fell,  and  whom  he  thought  fit  not  to  spare,  (2 
Pet.  ii.  4,  5.  Jude  6.)  he  threw  them  into  chains  of  dark- 
ness, resolving  to  deal  with  them,  not  upon  terms  of  abso- 
lute Sovereignty,  but  of  justice,  therefore  reserving  them 
to  the  judgment  of  the  great  day ;  not  in  the  meantime 
affording  them  a  second  trial,  in  order  to  their  recovery, 
as  he  hath  to  us,  even  of  mere  mercy ;  for  no  justice  could 
oblige  him  to  offer  us  new  terms.  Yet  their  case  and  ours 
so  differed,  that  there  are  reasons  obvious  to  view,  and 
which  must  lie  open  to  all,  in  the  public,  final  judgment, 
why  he  might  judge  it  fitter  to  design  the  objects  of  mercy 
among  men,  than  the  apostate  angels.     As, 

1.  That  we  must  suppose  them  (cir.  the  angels)  created, 
each  of  them,  in  perfect  inaturily,  unto  which  we  (our  first 
parents  excepted)  grow  up  gradually  and  by  slow  degrees. 
Thei/  had  their  intellectual  ability  lit  lor  present  exercise, 
when  they  first  existed,  and  did  all  then  at  once  co-exist ; 
(as  we  generally  reckon,  having  nothing  to  induce  us  to 
think  otherwise  ;)  we  come  into  being  successively,  and 
exist  here  but  in  a  succession. 

2.  Whereas  they  therefore  must  be  understood  to  have 
been  originally  under  a  sort  of  covenant  of  works,  (as  we 
were,)  or  were  some  way  or  other  made  to  understand 
what,  lay  the  law  of  their  creation,  was  their  duty  towards 
the  Author  of  their  beings,  and  what  their  expectations 
might  be  from  him ;  we  have  no  reason  therefore  to  appre- 
hend that  they  were  treated  with,  in  one  common  head  of 
their  own  order,  in  whom  they  should  stand  or  fall,  as  we 
were ;  our  case  not  admitting  it  to  be  otherwi.se,  because 
we  were  not  co-existent  with  him.  But  we  must  conceive 
them  to  have  been,  every  individual  of  them,  personal 
covenanters,  each  one  in  his  own  person  receiving  the  sig- 
nification of  their  Maker's  will;  and  if  there  were  reason 
or  need  of  solemn  restipulation,  each  one  in  his  own  per- 


son as  it  were  plighting  his  faith,  and  V3wing  his  alle- 
giance to  the  celestial  crown  and  throne.  They  ihcrefbre, 
from  a  self-contracted  malignity,  rebelled  wiih  open  eyes; 
and  though  an  obligation  by  a  common  head  were  bind- 
ing, theirs,  by  their  own  act  and  deed,  must  be  more 
strongly  binding,  and  their  revolt  more  deeply  and  more 
heinously  criminal. 

3.  The  posterity  of  our  apostate  first  parents  have  bui  a 
limited  time,  in  this  state  of  probation,  wherein  to  under- 
stand the  present  altered  state  of  things  between  them  and 
their  offended  Lord  :  within  which  time,  though  he  foresaw 
the  malignity  of  very  many  would  never  be  overcome  by 
his  goodness,  in  the  ordinarj'  meihods  wheiein  he  reckoned 
it  became  him  to  discover  and  exercise  it  towards  them, 
yet  according  to  the  course  and  law  of  nature  he  had  now 
settled  for  this  apostate  sinful  world,  their  course  would 
soon  be  run  out,  and  they  w^ould  not  have  opportunity 
long  to  continue  their  rebellion,  and  obstruct  his  interest 
and  designs  on  earth.  And  also,  having  all  things  ever 
present  to  his  all-comprehending  view,  he  foreknew  and 
foredetermined  that  great  numbers  should  become  the 
captives  of  his  grace,  and  that  the  love  and  blood  of  an 
Emmanuel  should  not  be  lost  and  thrown  away  upon 
them.  He  should  make  them  "  willing  in  the  day  of  his 
power"  to  fall  in  with  gracious  intendmenis,  and  their  Re- 
deemer should  see  his  seed,  and  the  travail  of  his  .soul,  and 
be  satisfied  therein  :  whereas  he  beheld  the  apostate  spirits 
of  that  higher  order  fixed  in  enmity,  not  vincible  by  any 
ordinary  methods.  Nor  was  it  to  be  expected  he  should 
exert  (in  this  case)  his  absolute  power,  and  act  ad  iilti- 
vmm,  as  a  natural  agent  doih,  to  its  very  uUermost.  (Had 
he  thought  fit,  he  could  as  well  have  prevented  their  re- 
volt.) Or  that  he  should  have  appointed  a  Redeemer  for 
their  recovery,  who  were  irrecoverable :  their  case  at  first 
being  (probablv)  very  parallel  to  theirs  among  men,  who 
sin  "that  sin  a"gainst  the  Holy  Ghost."  And  as  things 
lay  in  divine  prospect,  their  malicious  opposition  to  God's 
designs  in  this  world  was  not  bounded  within  the  narrow 
limits  of  a  short  human  life,  their  natures  not  being  sub- 
ject to  a  law  of  mortality,  as  it  is  with  every  sinner 
among  men;  but  they  were  beheld  as  continually  filling 
this  world  with  mischiefs,  with  wickednesses  and  rni.^erics, 
and  counterworking  all  God's  glorious  and  merciful  de- 
signs in  it  ;  even  every  one  of  them,  from  his  first  apos- 
tacy,  as  long  as  the  world  shall  last. 

4.  Man  sinned  at  first,  being  seduced,  tempted,  and  de- 
ceived by  the  devil.  The  devils,  as  being  their  own 
tempters,  sin  had  in  and  from  them  its  original  and  first 
rise  in  the  creation  of  God.  In  all  agency,  whether  of 
good  or  evil,  much  is  wont  to  be  attributed  to  this,  Who 
•was  first  in  it  ?  In  point  oi good,  the  blessed  God  hath  no 
competitor  ;  he  is  the  undoubted  first  Fountain  of  all  good, 
and  is  therefore  acknowledged  the  supreme  Good.  In 
point  of  evil,  (viz.  moral,)  there  is  none  prior  to  the  devil, 
who  is  therefore  eminently  called  the  evil,  or  icicked  one. 
And  as  the  devils  were  first  in  sin,  so  they  led  us  into  it, 
b)' deceiving  us;  the  malignity  of  it  was  therefore  the 
greater  on  their  parts,  and  proportionably  the  less  on  ours. 
The  more  knowing  are  the  more  deeply  guilty,thedeceivei 
than  the  deceived,  and  deserve  the  more  stripes.  'Tis  true 
that  none  can  deserve  mercy,  for  then  it  were  justice,  and 
not  mercy  ;  but  though  none  can  deseiwe  to  have  mercy 
shown  them,  they  may  deserve  not  to  have  it.  The  more 
a  ruler  is  above  us,  and  the  less  he  needs  us,  the  less  pos- 
sible it  is  for  us  to  oblige  him,  and  the  more  possible  to 
disoblige  and  offend  him,  and  the  more  heinous  will  the 
offence  be  :  therefore,  though  none  can  claim  mercy,  they 
may  forfeit  it;  and  will,  by  the  deeper  guilt,  incur  such 
a  forfeiiure,  by  how  much  the  more  and  clearer  the  light 
and  knowledge  is  against  which  they  offend.  And  this 
we  find  to  have  been  a  measure  with  the  blessed  God,  in 
the  exercise  of  his  mercy,  even  in  some  of  the  highest 
instances  hereof  that  we  meet  with  in  holy  Scripture  ;  "  I 
obtained  mercy,  because  I  did  it  ignorantly,  in  unbelief," 
I  Tim.  i.  Not  that  this  could  specify  a  more  deserving 
object  of  mercy  ;  for  where  there  can  be  no  desert  at  all, 
tiiere  can  be  no  more,  or  less. 

VII.  But  it  represents  the  occasion  and  season  of  show- 
ing mercy  more  fitly,  in  the  estimate  of  the  Divine  wisdom, 
which  conducts  the  acts  of  sovereignty ;  and  judges  of 


96 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  11, 


congruities,  as  justice  doth  of  right  and  wrong.  Where 
indeed,  among  the  objects  of  mercy,  there  is  an  absolute 
parity,  there  (as  to  them)  mere  sovereignty  determines; 
as  it  may  be  ordinarily,  in  God's  electing  among  men  the 
objects  of  his  free  favour.  Where  there  is  no  objective 
reason  of  eligibility  in  one  more  than  another,  especially 
if  there  be  such  as  would  rather  persuade  the  contrary 
way,  wisdom  hath  no  proper  exercise.  But  occasions  are 
of  greater  latitude,  and  comprehend  all  considerable  cir- 
cumstances and  consequences  ;  and  many  things  lie  open 
to  the  Divine  eye,  that  are  hid  to  ours. 

But  now,  whereas  we  cannot  doubt,  that  besides  such 
considerations  as  occur  to  us,  the  blessed  God  saw  super- 
abundant ground  of  not  making  such  provision  for  the  re- 
covery of  fallen  angels,  as  of  lost  men ;  we  can  have  none, 
whereupon  to  imagine  the  former  partake  not  of  the  bene- 
fit with  the  latter,  for  want  of  value  in  the  sacrifice  of 
Emmanuel.  For  when  the  blood  of  his  cross  is  intimated 
to  extend  to  all  things  both  in  heaven  and  earth;  (Col.  i. 
20.)  to  diffuse  an  influence  through  the  universe  ;  to  be 
the  cement  of  the  creation,  in  what  part  and  for  what  time 
it  shall  continue,  subordinately  to  the  Creator's  pleasure 
and  purposes  ;  and  that  by  Him,  who  shed  it  even  as  such, 
all  things  are  said  to  consist:  and  that  besides  his  natural 
right,  he  hath  acquired  by  the  superabundant  value  of  this 
sacrifice,  (the  odours  whereof  are  spread  through  all 
worlds,)  a  universal  dominion  ;  and  particularly,  to  be 
Head  of  all  principalities  and  powers ;  to  establish  the 
faithful  and  loyal,  to  judge  and  punish  the  disloyal,  over 
whom  he  so  gloriously  triumphed  on  the  cross ;  (Col.  ii. 
15.)  to  have  every  knee  bow  to  him,  &c.  (Phil.  ii.  6,  7,  8, 
9,  10,  11.)  it  cannot  be,  doubtless,  but  the  value  of  the 
same  sacrifice  had  sufficed  to  obtain  a  power  as  well  as  to 
govern  and  judge  all,  to  establish  and  reward  the  good,  to 
punish  the  bad;  to  have  obtained  that,  upon  terms,  par- 
don and  mercy  might  have  reached  down  into  the  infernal 
regions,  if  they  that  inhabit  them  cwild  upon  other  accounts 
have  been  thought  a  pardonable  or  tractable  sort  of  delin- 
quents. And  if  we  cannot  apprehend  this  great  Sacrifice 
to  want  value  even  to  make  atonement  for  devils,  we  can 
as  little  think  it  .should  want  value  to  save. 

VIII.  2.  The  impenitent  and  unbelieving  among  men, 
nnder  the  gospel ;  and  that  it  must  therefore  also  be  for 
some  other  reason,  that  such  perish. 

As,  (1.)  If  there  be  any  thing  of  reason  in  -what  hath 
been  discoursed  concerning  the  state  of  the  lapsed  angels, 
their  continuance  in  wilful  impenitency  and  infidelity 
partly  supposes,  partly  makes,  the  state  of  things  with  them 
the  same. 

1.  Partly  supposes  it  so.  For  it  implies  they  have  been 
applied  to  and  treated  with  personally,  upon  the  terms  of 
the  second  covenant ;  i.  e.  the  covenant  of  God  in  Christ, 
as  the  apostate  angels  were  upon  the  first.  And  if  the 
guilt  of  the  former  apostates  was  so  horridly  great  upon 
this  account,  the  guilt  of  the  latter  must  be  proportionably 
so  on  the  same  account. 

2.  Partly  makes  it  the  same.  For  hereby,  as  they  were 
violators  first  and  immediately  in  their  own  persons  of  the 
first  covenant,  so  are  these  of  the  second.  For,  generally, 
they  that  live  under  the  gospel  are  professed  covenanters ; 
and  if  they  were  not,  they  could  not  but  have  become 
obliged  to  have  been  so,  by  the  very  proposal  and  tender 
thereof  unto  them;  or,  as  soon  as  the  mind  of  Him  who 
made  them,  concerning  this  matter,  was  known.  They 
were  not  obliged  by  their  own  consent,  but  they  were 
obliged  to  it;  and  by  an  incomparably  greater  and  deeper 
obligation  ;  not  by  their  own  act  and  deed,  but  by  His 
who  gave  them  breath.  What  is  their  authority  over 
themselves,  compared  with  that  of  the  Supreme  Lawgiver? 
A  mere  borrowed  subordinate  thing,  without  and  apart 
from  him,  without  whom  their  being  itself  were  mere  no- 
thing !  An  argument  ad  homincvi,  is  convictive,  in  dispu- 
tation, between  one  man  and  another ;  but  how  much  more 
overpowering  means  of  conviction  will  there  be  in  the 
judgment  of  the  great  day!  And  the  parity  of  cases  be- 
tween the  angels  that  fell,  and  insolent  sinners  under  the 
gospel,  is  intimated  as  monitory  to  the  latter,  in  those  texts 
of  Scripture  that  speak  of  God's  most  just  and  terrible  se- 
verity to  the  former ;  viz.  the  sin  of  both  was  apostacy, 
according  to  the  different  covenants  or  laws  under  which 


they  stood.  For  as  the  one  5ort  were  apostates  from  God, 
so  the  others  were  from  Christ,  denying  the  Lord  that 
bought  them,  2  Pet.  ii.  1.  And  again,  "  turning  the  gra.ce 
of  God  into  lasciviousness,  rind  denying  the  only  Lord 
God,  and  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,"  Jude  4.  Whereupon, 
this  example  of  God's  vengeance  upon  the  angels  that  fell 
is  subjoined  in  both  places.  Besides  what  was  common 
to  them  with  the  apostate  angels,  there  were  some  things 
peculiar  to  these  wilful  refusers  of  the  grace  of  the  gospel, 
and  violators  of  the  gospel-covenant.     As, 

1.  That  the  guilt  of  wilful  sinners  under  the  gospel  ad- 
mits of  this  aggravation  above  that  of  the  rebelling  angels, 
that  they  oflend  against  the  grace  of  the  remedy,  never 
offered  to  the  other ;  treading  underfoot  the  Son  of  God, 
profaning  the  blood  of  the  covenant,  wherewith  they  were 
sanctified,  as  an  unholy  thing,  and  doing  despite  unto  the 
Spirit  of  grace,  Heb.  x.  29.     And, 

2.  That  the  offer  itself,  made  to  them,  carried  in  it  a. 
manifest  signification  of  their  (remote)  claimable  right  to 
the  benefits  of  the  gospel-covenant,  on  supposition  of  their 
compliance  with  the  terms  of  it,  (unto  which  the  fallen 
angels  could  have  no  pretence,)  barred  only  by  their  non- 
acceptance  or  refu.sal,  which  appears  in  the  general  tenor 
of  the  gospel-covenant  itself:  "  Ho,  every  one  that  thirsts" 
— "  Whosoever  will,  let  him  come,  and  take  of  the  waters 
of  life  freely" — "  God  so  loved  the  world,  that  he  gave  his 
only-begotten  Son,  that  whosoever  believeth  in  him,  should 
not  perish." — And  it  is  here  to  be  noted,  that  a  secret  in- 
tention gives  not  a  claimable  right,  but  some  overt-act  or 
deed  ;  and  it  must  be  claimable,  before  it  ought  to  be 
claimed  or  accepted.  This  is  the  case  then  with  the  wil- 
fully impenitent  and  rebellious  under  the  gospel,  that  it 
may  be  truly  said  of  them,  "  You  might  have  had  pardon 
and  eternal  life,  if  you  had  not  rejected  the  kindest  ofiers." 
It  is  not  therefore  want  of  value  in  this  sacrifice,  but  their 
rejection,  whence  it  is  unavailable  to  them.  As  for  them 
that  could  never  have  the  gospel,  or  infants  incapable  of 
receiving  it,  we  must  consider  the  Holy  Scriptures  were 
written  for  those  that  could  use  them,  not  for  those  that 
could  not ;  therefore  to  have  in.serted  into  them  an  account 
of  God's  methods  of  dispensation  towards  such,  had  only 
served  to  gratify  the  curious  and  unconcerned,  not  to  in- 
struct or  benefit  such  as  were  concermed.  And  it  well  be- 
came hereupon  the  accurate  wisdom  of  God,  not  herein  to 
indulge  the  vanity  and  folly  of  man. 

IX.  2.  Now  let  it  hereupon  be  considered,  in  what  way 
was  this  to  be  done  ;  not  otherwise  than  by  enacting  and 
publishing  a  universal  law,  that  whosoever  should  comply 
with  such  and  such  terms,  expressed  in  that  law,  (as,  for 
instance,  repentance  towards  God,  and  faith  in  Jesus 
Christ,)  should  be  actually  and  finally  pardoned  and  saved. 
And  this  being  now  the  plain  slate  of  the  case,  let  any 
sober  unprejudiced  mind  make  a  judgment  of  it,  what 
this  matter  would  come  to,  if  there  had  not  been  a  com- 
pensation made,  as  a  formdation  to  this  law,  and  the  pub- 
lication of  it.  They  that  exalt  one  Divine  perfection,  to  the 
diminution  of  several  others;  that,  for  instance,  so  plead 
for  the  absoluteness  and  sovereignty  of  God's  mercy,  as 
not  to  adjust  therewith  the  determinations  of  his  wisdom, 
purity,  righteousness,  forget  that  they  hereby  make  any 
satisfaction  by  a  Redeemer  unnecessary,  (and  by  conse- 
quence make  Christ,  whom  they  cannot  deny  to  have  suf- 
fered and  died,  being  innocent,  to  have  died  in  vain,)  nor 
do  allow  in  their  own  thoughts  its  just  weight  to  this  state 
of  the  case, — that  the  method  in  which  God  was  to  exer- 
cise his  pardoning  mercy,  was  by  publishing  an  edict  for 
that  purpose,  that  was  to  extend  all  the  world  over,  and 
through  all  the  successions  of  time.  They  know  this  is 
the  course  the  wisdom  of  God  hath  pitched  upon,  and 
yet,  taking  the  case  as  it  is,  would  have  this  large,  uni- 
versal tenor  of  the  gospel  to  proceed  upon  no  foregoing 
compensation.  The  great  God  requires  it  should  be  pro- 
claimed to  all  the  world,  "  Ho,  every  one  that  thirsts, 
come  to  the  waters" — "  Whosoever  believes  shall  not 
perish,  but  have  life  everlasting" — "  If  the  wicked  turn 
from  all  the  sins  he  hath  committed,  he  shall  not  die  :  all 
his  transgressions  shall  not  be  mentioned" — "  Repent,  so 
your  iniquities  shall  not  be  your  ruin" — "  Come  to  me,  all 
ye  that  are  weary  and  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you 
rest" — "  Go  preach  the  go.spel  to  every  creature;  whoso- 


Chap.  IX. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


9j 


ever  believes  shall  he  saved."     This  is  the  known  tenor 

of  the  gospel,  directed  without  liniiialion  to  all  the  ends  of 

I        the  earth;  "Look  to  me,  and  be  saved;  all  sin  and  blas- 

tphemy  shall  be  forgiven  lo  men."  That  gospel  which  de- 
termines whosoever  believes  shall  be  saved,  is  directed  to 
be  preached  to  all  nations.  He  did  first,  by  his  angels 
from  heaven,  indefinitely  proclaim,  "  Peace  on  earth,  and 
good-will  towards  men:"  and  pursuant  hereto  was  the 
commission  given  by  our  ascending  Lord  to  his  apostles 
and  ministers  that  should  succeed  to  the  end  of  the  world. 
Now  suppose  that  without  reference  to,  or  mention  any 
where  made  of,  this  compensation  to  the  justice  of  God, 
there  must  be  an  offer  made  of  such  mercy,  not  to  pre- 
sent delinquents  only,  but  to  all,  in  all  future  times  and 
ages  ! 

X.  With  what  methods  of  government  would  such  a 
course  as  this  agree  1  I  the  rather  insist  upon  this,  both  as 
apprehending  it  to  have  its  own  great  weight,  and  that 
perhaps  it  hath  escaped  the  consideration  of  the  most,  in 
treating  of  this  important  subject ;  yet,  what  is  more  ob- 
vious 1  It  is  one  thing  for  a  prince,  bj'^  a  private  act  of 
grace,  to  pardon  a  particular  person  that  hath  offended 
him  without  insisting  upon  any  recompense ;  another 
thing  to  do  it  to  a  multitude,  not  only  that  had  now  trans- 
gressed, but  that  should  do  so  in  any  future  time.  Lighter 
minds  may  perhaps  at  first  sight  reckon  this  would  only 
so  much  the  more  magnify  the  mercy  of  God  above  that 
of  man,  "whose  ways  are  not  as  our  ways,  nor  his 
thoughts  as  our  thoughts."  And  so  indeed  doth  the  way  he 
hath  taken  for  the  pardoning  of  sin  infinitely  exceed  all 
human  thought,  Isa.  Iv.  6,7,  8.  Butw^e  must  take  heed  of 
being  so  inconsiderately  officious,  as  to  prescribe  him  wa3's 
of  exalting  one  attribute,  to  the  depressing  of  another  ;  and 
so  lo  set  him  above  men  in  one  respect,  as  to  throw  him  in 
another  below  himself,  yea,  and  below  men  too  :  i.  e.  not 
more  to  set  him  above  them  in  point  of  mercy,  than  be- 
neath them  in  point  of  governing  wisdom  and  righteous- 
ness. And  if  any  would  be  so  insolent  to  prescribe  to  him, 
they  might  have  thought  the  inconvenience  of  such  a  uni- 
versal edict  might  have  been  avoided,  by  his  sending  an 
angel,  or  affording  some  particular  revelation,  to  every 
man  he  would  have  turn  to  him,  and  repent.  But  were 
it  dutiful  so  to  correct  his  way  of  dispensation  1  And  con- 
sider how  this  way  he  hath  chosen  would  square  with  the 
ordinary  measures  of  government,  without  the  foundation 
laid  which  we  are  asserting.  That  prince  would  cer- 
tainly never  be  so  much  magnified  for  his  clemency  and 
mercy,  as  he  would  be  despised  by  all  the  world  for  most 
remarkable  defects  of  government,  that  should  not  only 
pardon  whosoever  of  his  subjects  had  offended  him,  upon 
their  being  sorry  for  it,  but  go  about  to  provide  a  law  that 
should  obtain  in  his  dominions,  through  all  after-time, 
that  whosoever  should  oft'end  against  the  government,  with 
whatsoever  insolency,  malignity,  and  frequency,  if  they 
repented,  they  should  never  be  punished,  but  be  taken 
forthwith  into  highest  favour.  Admit  that  it  had  been 
congruous  to  the  wisdom  and  righteousness  of  God,  as 
well  as  his  goodness,  to  have  pardoned  a  particular  sin- 
ner, upon  repentance,  without  satisfaction;  yet  nothing 
could  have  been  more  apparently  unbecoming  him,  than 
to  settle  a  universal  law,  for  all  future  time,  to  that  pur- 
pose ;  that  let  as  many  as  would  in  any  age,  to  the  world's 
end,  affront  him  never  so  highly,  invade  his  rights,  trample 
his  authority,  tear  the  constitution  of  his  government,  thev 
should,  upon  their  repentance,  be  forgiven,  and  not  only 
not  be  punished,  but  be  most  highly  advanced  and  digni- 
fied. 

XI.  And  though  he  hath,  upon  the  recompense  made 
him  by  his  Son  for  all  this  injury,  declared  he  will  do  all 
this  ;  they  ccepting  their  Redeemer  and  Saviour  for  their 
Ruler  and  Lord,  and  returning  to  their  state  of  subjection 
and  duty  to  him.self,  in  him ;  yet  it  were  enough  to  make 
the  world  tremble  and  fall  astonished  at  his  foot-stool,  to 
have  peace  and  reconciliation  offered  them  only  upon 
such  terms  ;  and  to  behold  God's  own  Son  made  a  sacrifice 
to  his  justice,  and  a  public  spectacle  to  angels  and  men,  for 
the  expiation  of  the  wrong  done ;  and  "enough  to  make 
all  men  despair  of  ever  finding  such  another  sacrifice,  if 
they  should  reject  the  terms  upon  which  only  the  value 
and  meritoriousness  of  this  can  be  available  for  them. 


They  can  never,  .after  this,  have  pretence  to  think  it  a 
light  matter  to  offend  God,  or  to  think  that  he  looks  with 
indifferency  upon  sin,  or  counts  it  a  sujall  matter.  And 
suppose  it  possible  a  single  delinquent  might  have  been 
pardoned,  without  such  atonement  made  for  his  offence; 
the  design  of  God's  unbounded  mercy  not  being  so  nar- 
row, but  so  vastly  oomprehensive  as  to  require  the  settling 
of  a  stated  course  for  the  reducing  and  saving  of  lost  souls, 
in  all  times  and  ages;  .since  a  Redeemer  of  so  high  dig- 
nity was  to  be  constituted  for  this  purpose;  it  had  been  an 
unexpressible  injury  to  him,  a  detraction  from  the  kind- 
ness of  his  undertaking  and  the  authority  of  his  office,  that 
any  thing  of  mercy  should  be  shown  in  this  kind,  but  in 
him  and  by  him  alone. 

But  that  it  may  be  further  understood  how  requisite  it 
was  such  atonement  should  be  made,  such  a  sacrifice  of- 
fered, for  the  sins  of  men,  in  order  to  Go#s  settling  his 
temple  and  presence  with  them  ;  we  were  to  consider,  not 
only  what  was  to  be  remitted,  which  we  have  done,  but 
also  what  was  to  be  communicated,  viz.  his  blessed  Spirit, 
in  pursuance  of  the  same  gracious  purpose ;  which  re- 
mains to  be  done  in  what  follows. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

ConceiTiing  the  gift  or  communication  of  the  .^rint-  The  gospel  the  means  of 
it.  The  inseparable  conne.\ion  hereof  with  llie  former,  the  imparting  of" 
righteousness,  for  removing  the  guilt  of  sin.  In  what  sense  the  Holy  Spirit 
of  God  IS  said  to  be  given,  or  communicated.  What  personal  union  signifies. 
How  personal  presuJice,  vital  union,  communicated  influences,  concern  the 
inijuiry.  In  what  respect  the  necessity  asserted  of  this  communication. 
Since  such  fulness  of^Spirit  in  Emmanuel,  purposely  for  communication  ; 
how  comes  it  to  pass  he,  thereby,  raises  no  more  such  temples  ?  The  neces- 
sity of  this  communication,  for  this  purijose.  represented  t«o  ways  :  bv  show- 
ing, 1  That  thi-  Holy  Scripture  teaches  that  God  doth  give  his  Spirit.' thouch 
undtrdisliiict  nutions,  only  through  Christ.  2.  That  it  was  most  rcasonabfe, 
and  thrriliirr  ruri'ssary  it  should  be  so.  The  doctrine  of  Scripture  herein 
proposed  under  si.\  heads. 

1.  Whsreas  there  could  be  no  restoration  of  this  tem- 
ple of  God  with  men  (as  hath  been  shown)  without  the 
concurrence  of  these  two  things:  remission  of  sin — emis- 
sion of  the  Holy  Spirit — and  that  it  was  undertaken  to 
show,  that  these  were  so  great  things,  as  that  the  wisdom 
of  God  judged  it  not  meet  to  vouchsafe  them  in  another 
way,  than  by  constituting  the  Emmanuel  invested  with  a 
full  power,  by  his  own  acquisition,  in  an  unexceptionable, 
legal  way,  to  dispense,  and  effect  both  of  them ;  where- 
upon, as  we  have  seen,  this  constitution  was  abundantly 
sufficient,  so  it  now  also  must  appear  necessary,  for  this 
purpose.  Having  endeavoured  to  evince  this  necessity 
concerning  the  former  of  these,  remission  of  sin,  upon  con- 
sideration of  the  vast  amplitude  and  the  peculiar  way  of 
this  remission ;  we  are  now  to  show  it  concerning  the 
latter,  viz.  the  emission  or  communication  of  the  Holy 
Spirit. 

The  rich  sufficiency  of  Emmanuel,  so  constituted,  as  to 
be  furni.shed  with  this  power  of  giving  the  Spirit,  hath 
been  already  seen,  and  that  in  a  two-fold  respect;  viz. 
both  in  respect  of  the  end  of  its  communication,  that  the 
indi.sposed,  unwilling  heart  of  man  might  be  prepared  and 
maile  willing  again  to  receive  the  Divine  presence  ;  and 
in  respect  of  the  way  wherein  it  was  to  be  communicated  ; 
viz.  in  a  way  suitable  to  man's  intelligent  nature,  by  re- 
presentation of  the  glorious  object  by  which  his  souTwas 
to  be  impressed.  Emmanuel  himself,  represented  as  the 
original,  excvipJary  temple  ;  and  also  represented  as  made 
a  sacrifice:  as  Avas  discoursed  chap.  v.  Whereby  the  two 
purposes  are  answered,  mentioned  chap.  vi.  s.  1.  For 
which  it  was  requisite  this  constitution  of  Emmanuel 
should  be,  and  should  be  declared  and  made  known  tons: 
that  the  blessed  God  might,  upon  terms  not  injurious  to 
himself,  give  his  own  consent ;  and  might,  in  a  wav  not 
unsuitable  to  us,  gain  ours.  Both  which  he  is  graciously 
pleased  to  assume  to  himself,  for  his  part,  in  his  transac- 
tions with  us  about  this  matter  ;  leaving  it  for  our  parr, 
being  so  assisted,  to  consider  what  is  represented  to  us : 
and  thereupon,  actually  to  give  our  own  consent. 

Whereupon  we  are  not  to  look  upon  the  gospel  of  the 
Son  of  God  as  a  useless  or  unnecessary  thing.  It  is  the 
ministration  of  .spirjt  and  life,  (2  Cor.  iii".  6.)  aiid  the  power 


98 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  II. 


of  God  to  salvation  to  every  one  that  believes ;  (Rom.  i. 
lo.)  all  apt  instrument  of  such  impressions  upon  the  spi- 
rits of  men  as  are  necessary  to  their  being  formed  into 
living  temples;  the  sword  of  the  Spirit.  Not  that  any  good 
■work  is  wrought  by  the  inanimate  gospel:  the  letter  kills; 
but  it  is  the  Spirit  that  gives  life,  2  Cor.  iii.  An  instru- 
ment comes  under  the  general  notion  of  means,  which 
signify  somewhat  middle  between  the  efficient  and  the  ef- 
fect. And  suppose  an  agent  able  etfectually  to  use  them ; 
a  sword  is  a  fit  instrument  for  its  proper  use,  supposing  a 
hand  able  to  wield  it. 

The  communication  therefore  of  the  Spirit,  is  t^at  we 
are  principally  now  to  consider.  And  as  the  constitution 
of  Emmanuel  was  sufficient,  in  its  own  kind,  and  for  its 
own  proper  purpose,  in  this  restoration ;  so  we  are  to  show 
the  necessity  of  it,  for  this  same  purpose. 

There  ought  to  be  a  concurrence  of  these  two,  in  the 
Cause,  the  Restorer,  of  this  temple;  viz.  A  fulness  of 
righteousness,  to  be  so  imparted  as  that  it  may  be  a  ground 
upon  which  sin  may  be  forgiven  :  and,  A  fulness  of  Spirit, 
from  whence  vital  influence  may  be  communicated  and 
transfused . 

Inasmuch,  as  it  is  most  evident,  there  cannot  but  be  a 
connexion  of  what  is  correspondent  thereto  in  the  eifect, 
viz.  the  temple  itself  restored,  it  must  be  full  of  life,  1  Pet. 
ii.  4,  5.  For  can  it  be  thought  the  righteousness  of  the 
Son  of  God  should  ever  be  the  clothing  of  a  carcass  1 
Wiihout  union  with  Christ,  no  man  can  have  either: 
neither  his  righteousness  nor  his  indwelling  Spirit.  Nor 
can  they  be  separable,  with  reference  to  the  designed  end. 
It  is  an  unsupposable  thing,  that  one  should  be  God's 
temple  enlivened,  and  animated  by  his  own  Spirit,  and 
yet  be  rmder  remaining  guilt,  and  liable  every  moment  to 
his  consuming  wrath ;  or  that  he  could  be  any  whit  the 
better,  to  have  all  his  former  guilt  taken  off,  and  be  still 
"  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins  !"  Wherefore  this  latter  is  of 
equal  necessity.  Hither  therefore  we  have  reserved  the 
larger  discourse  we  intended  of  the  gift  or  communication 
of  the  Spirit,  as  the  most  proper  place  for  it.  And  by 
way  of  preparation  hereto,  two  things  are  liot  unfit  to  be 
briefly  opened. 

I.  How  or  in  what  sense  the  Spirit  is  said  to  be  given  at 
all,  or  communicated.  2.  In  what  respect  we  assert  a  ne- 
cessity in  reference  to  this  communication. 

II.  1.  It  will  not  be  inconvenient  to  say  somewhat  of  the 
true  import  of  the  phrase  giving  the  Spirit.  It  is  evident, 
that  whereas  giving  imports  some  sort  of  communication, 
there  is  yet  a  sense  wherein  that  blessed  Spirit  is,  to  any 
creature,  simply  incommunicable.  There  is  a  T!coix'''9')<'ii, 
or  m\\U\^\  in-being,  of  the  .sacred  Persons  in  the  Godhead, 
which  is  most  peculiar  to  themselves,  not  communicable 
to  creatures  with  them  ;  and  which  is  natural  and  neces- 
sary, not  gratuitous,  and  whereto  therefore  the  notion  of 
gift  no  way  agrees.  We  cannot  yet  be  ignorant,  that  be- 
cause the  Holy  Spirit  is  sometimes  called  the  Spint  of  God, 
sometimes  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  some  bold,  assuming  en- 
thusiasts, upon  pretence  of  being  possessed  of  this  Spirit, 
have  taken  the  liberty  of  uttering  "  great  swelling  words 
of  vanity,"  and  to  talk  of  being  godded  with  God,  and 
christed  with  Christ.  Yet,  because  the  expressions  of 
giving  the  Spirit,  of  receiving,  of  having  the  Spirit,  of 
our  being  in  the  Spirit,  and  of  his  being  and  dwelling  or 
abiding  in  us,  are  phrases  of  known  and  frequent  use  in 
Scripture  ;  whether  in  relation  to  extraordinary  purposes 
and  operations,  peculiar  to  some,  or  to  ordinary,  common 
to  all  that  are  sincere  in  the  Christian  church  :  such  ex- 
pressions are  therefore  by  no  means  to  be  rejected  or  dis- 
used; but  cautiously  used,  and  vmderstood  in  a  sound 
and  sober  sense.  We  find  no  difficulty  in  apprehending 
how  God  is  said  to  give  any  thing  diverse  or  distinct  from 
himself;  as  houses,  lands,  riches,  &c.  when  in  the  mean- 
time we  will  confess  it  not  so  easy  to  conceive  of  his 
giving  what  is  within  the  verge  of  Deity,  or  that  is  of  and 
belonging  to  himself.  Same  have  thought,  that  by  the 
Spirit  jjiven,  we  are  to  understand  the  operations  and  ef- 
fects of  the  Spirit,  cvtraordinanj,  as  of  prophecy,  working 
miracles,  &€.  and  ordinary,  (which  concern  our  present 
purpose,)  the  graces,  habits,  acts,  and  influences  of  the 
Spirit.  Others,  finding  it  so  expressly  said  of  the  Spirit 
himself,  spoken  of  as  a  person,  that  he  shall  be  given,  he 


shall  abide  with,  and  shall  or  doth  dwell  with  or  in  you ; 
(John  xiv.  15,  16.  Rom.  viii.  in  divers  verses  of  those 
chapters ;)  have  thought  it  too  diminishing,  and  beneath 
the  sense  of  those  places,  to  understand  them  of  any  thing 
less  than  the  very  person  of  the  Spirit.  And  some,  reckon- 
ing the  particle  in  to  import  union,  have  therefore  incogi- 
tantly  spoken  of  a  personal  union  between  the  Holy  Spi- 
rit and  believers.  Others,  more  cautiously,  of  his  indwell- 
ing, personal  presence  in  them :  as  a  greater  thing,  and 
more  answerable  to  the  letter  of  such  texts,  than  their 
only  having  in  thejn  his  graces  or  gracious  influences. 

Ill  If  one  may  adventure  to  give  a  censure  and  judg- 
ment upon  all  this,  I  conceive, 

1.  That  if  any  will  make  use  of  metaphysical  terms, 
they  should  take  them  in  the  sense  Avherein  metaphysi- 
cians use  them  ;  which  they  do  not,  who  speak  of  a  per- 
sonal tinion  between  Christ,  or  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  and 
believers.  For  by  personal  union  is  never  wont  to  be 
meant  a  union  of  one  person  with  another,  but  a  union  of 
the  singular  nature  with  this  peculiar  manner  of  subsist- 
ence, whereby  is  constituted  one  person  ;  i.  e.  that  by  per- 
sonal union  is  meant,  not  the  subjects  of  union,  as  if  it 
only  signified  that  several  persons  remaining  distinct  were 
yet  some  way  or  other  united  v/ith  one  another  ;  which,  so 
taken,  were  a  very  lax  expression,  and  which,  according  to 
various  capacities  persons  may  admit  of,  would  be  of  vast 
extent,  and  may  reach  to  domestical,  political,  and  I  know 
not  how  many  more  imions  ;  which  cannot  but  be  much 
beneath  what  such  men  must  be  understood  to  intend  :  but 
that  expression,  personal  miion,  means  the  result  of  union, 
whereby  the  mentioned  two  become  one  person.  And 
therefore  they  that  speak  in  this  stricter  and  more  proper 
sense  of  personal  union  of  the  Spirit  and  believers,  do 
most  unwarily  assert  a  nearer  union  between  the  Spirit 
and  believers  than  that  of  the  sacred  persons  in  the  God- 
head with  each  other.  For  they  who  acknowledge  them 
one  in  Godhead,  do  yet  as  commonly  deny  them  to  be  one 
person,  and  assert  them  to  be  ever  three  distinct  persons: 
and  this  must  be  as  much  above  what  such  men  will  avow 
and  stand  by.  Therefore  that  expression  can,  in  this  case, 
admit  no  tolerable  sense  ax  all,  distinctly  expressive  of 
any  thing  that  can  be  truly  meant  by  it. 

2.  That,  of  a  personal  indtuelling  presence,  can  by  no 
means  be  denied.  The  plain  import  of  many  texts  of 
Scripture  is  so  full  to  this  purpose,  that  to  take  them  other- 
wise, exclusively  of  this,  is  not  to  i/Uerpret  Scripture,  but 
deny  it. 

3.  Yet  this  expression  oi  a  per sono2  indwelling  presence, 
taken  alone,  doth  not  signify  any  peculiar  distinguishing 
privilege  of  believers  from  others  ;  but  what  is  common  to 
all  men  and  creatures.  For  can  we  acknowledge  God  to 
be  omnipresent,  and  deny  it  of  any  person  of  the  Godhead  1 
Therefore,  the  Spirit's  personal  presence  alone  doth  not 
distinguish  believers  from  others,  even  though  we  suppose 
that  presence  to  be  never  so  intimate:  God  is  all,  and  in 
all,  more  inward  or  intimate  to  ns  than  ve  are  to  our- 
selves ;  an  assertion  carrying  its  own  evidence  so  fully  in 
itself,  as  easily  to  be  transferred  from  the  pagan  academy 
to  the  Christian  church,  so  as  generally  to  obtain  in  it. 

4.  That  therefore  such  as  speak  of  the  Spirit's  being 
present,  by  his  gracious  influences,  operations,  and  effects, 
suppose  his  personal  presence,  from  which  they  can  no 
more  be  severed,  than  the  beams  from  the  body  of  the  sun. 
The  way  of  Divine  operation  being  also  by  an  immediate- 
ness  both  virtutis  et  supposili,  of  both  poorer  and  person,  as 
it  is  commonly,  and  fitly  enough,  wont  to  be  spoken. 

If  any  therefore  should  speak  of  the  Spirit's  personal 
presence,  as  secluding  gracious  effects  wrought  thereby, 
they  do  not  herein  say  a  greater  thing  than  the  others,  but 
much  less.  For  though  there  can't  be  any  gracious  effects 
without  the  present  person  of  the  Spirit,  jei  we  all  know 
he  may  be  personally  present  where  he  produces  no  such 
effects:  it  is  therefore  his  being  so  present,  as  to  be  the 
productive  cause  of  sUch  blessed  effects,  that  is  any  one's 
peculiar  advantage.  It  is  very  possible  to  have  the  person- 
al presence  of  some  great  and  munificent  personage,  and 
be  nothing  the  better  for  it,  if  his  favour  be  shut  up  to- 
wards m».  It  is  only  his  communicative  presence  that  I 
can  be  the  better  for,  which  depends  upon  free  good-will. 

5.  It  is  therefore  only  the  free,  gracious  presence  of  the 


Chap.  IX. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


99 


Spirit,  that  can  be  the  matter  of  gift  and  of  promise ;  not 
that  which  is  necessary,  or  impossible  not  to  be,  which  is 
peculiar  and  distinguishing.  Mere  personal  presence,  as 
the  Divine  essence  itself,  is  every  where,  by  necessity  of 
nature,  not  by  vouchsafement  of  grace  ;  and  therefore  no 
way  comports  with  the  notion  of  giving,  or  of  promise. 

6.  Therefore  giving  the  Spirit  import.s,  in  the  full  sense 
of  it,  two  things  : 

(I.)  Somewhat  real,  when  he  vouchsafes  to  be  in  us,  as 
the  spring  and  fountain  of  gracious  communications,  influ- 
ences, and  effects,  which  are  most  distinct  from  himself 
For  the  cause  is  uncreated  :  the  eflect  is  the  new  creature, 
■with  whatsoever  was  requisite  to  produce,  sustain,  im- 
prove, and  perfect  it;  though  so  like  its  cause,  in  nature, 
as  to  bear  its  name.  "  That  which  is  born  of  the  Spirit, 
is  spirit,"  John  iii.  6.  And  because  he  is  said  to  be  in 
Christians,  who  are  truly  such,  and  they  in  him  ;  which 
are  words  very  expressive  of  union ;  that  union  is  most 
properly  vital,  as  whereof  holy  life  is  the  immediate  re- 
sult :  "  I  live,  yet  not  I,  but  Christ"  {i.  c.  by  his  Spirit) 
"  liveth  in  me."  Nor,  otherwise,  could  such  be  living 
temples,  animated  from  Emmanuel. 

(2.)  Somewhat  relative,  the  collation  of  a  right  to  such 
a  presence,  for  such  purposes;  which  hath  no  dithculty. 
We  easily  conceive  how  the  meanest  persons  may,  by 
vouchsafement,  have  relation  to,  and  interest  in,  the  great- 
est ;  so  God  gives  Himself,  his  Son,  his  Spirit,  to  them 
that  covenant  with  him,  as  we  also  take  the  Father,  Son, 
and  Spirit,  to  be  our  God  ;  as  the  baptismal  form  signifies. 
And  when  we  so  covenant,  then  hath  this  giving  ils  full 
and  complete  sense.  And  now,  having  thus  far  seen  in 
what  sense  the  blessed  Spirit  of  God  may  be  said  to  be 
given  or  communicated,  we  come  next  briefly  to  show,  as 
the  other  intended  premise, 

IV.  2.  In  what  respect  we  arc  here,  pursuantly  to  the 
drift  and  design  of  the  present  discourse,  to  afhrm  a  neces- 
s^itij,  in  reference  to  this  communication.  It  may  admit  a 
twofold  reference  :  backward,  to  the  constitution  of  Em- 
manuel, on  which  it  depends; — forward,  to  the  restoration 
of  God's  temple,  which  depends  on  it.  There  was  a  con- 
sequent, moral  necessity  of  this  communication  ;  upon 
what  the  Emmanuel  was,  did,  suffered,  and  acquired. 
There  was  an  antecedent,  natural  necessity  of  it,  in  order 
to  what  was  to  be  effected,  and  done  by  it.  Ln  the  former 
respect,  it  was  necessary  in  point  of  right,  as  it  stood  re- 
lated to  its  meriting  cause.  In  the  latter  respect,  it  was 
necessity  in  fact,  as  it  stood  related  to  its  proper  designed 
effect,  which  could  only  be  brought  about  by  it.  In  short ; 
the  communication  of  the  Spirit  was  necessary  to  the  re- 
storing of  this  temple.  The  constitution  of  Emmanuel 
Avas  necessary  to  the  communication  of  the  Spirit. 

This  former  necessity  hath,  in  great  part,  been  evinced 
already,  in  representing  the  ruinous  state  of  God's  temple 
among  men,  when  Emmanuel  undertook  the  reparation  of 
it ;  and  in  treating  of  his  abundant  rich  sufficiency  for  this 
undertaking.  Yet,  there  will  be  farther  occasion  to  say 
more  of  it  in  the  progress  of  the  following  discourse  ;  the 
other  will  more  directly  come  under  our  consideration  in 
what  follows;  wherein,  however,  we  must  have  reference 
to  both  promiscuously,  pursuant  to  what  hath  been  said. 

For  as  we  have  shown,  that  the  immense  fulness  of  both 
righteousness  and  Spirit,  treasured  uj)  in  Emmanuel,  could 
not  but  be  abundantly  sufficient  for  the  purpose  of  restor- 
ing God's  temple  ;  and  have  also  shown,  that  his  fulness 
of  righteousness  was  in  order  to  the  remission  of  sin,  as 
well  necessary,  as  sufficient,  to  the  same  purpose ;  so  it 
remains  further  to  be  shown,  that  his  fulness  of  Spirit,  as 
it  was  sufficient,  so  is  the  emission  or  immission  of  it  also 
necessary,  for  that  part  it  was  to  have  in  this  restoration. 
And  that  the  whole  course  of  Divine  dispensation,  in  re- 
storing of  this  temjile,  imports  a  steady  comportment  with 
this  necessity  in  both  the  mentioned  kinds  of  it.  There- 
fore, the  Emmanuel  being  the  procurer  of  this  restoration, 
as  this  may  fitly  be  styled  the  temple  of  Christ,  or  of  God 
in  him:  so  the  Spirit  being  the  immediate  actor  herein,  is 
also  styled  the  temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  aa  we  find  in 
many  texts  of  Scripture,  Eph.  ii.  20,  21.  1  Cor.  iii.  KJ. 
and  vi.  19.  2  Cor.  vi.  18,  19.  1  Peter  ii.  4,  5.  which  the 
re^.der  may  consult  at  leisure.  And  they  all  show,  how 
a  tvcp)ovvToi. 


important  and  necessary  a  part  the  blessed  Spirit  hath  in 
this  merciful  and  glorious  work.  As  withal,  it  being  con- 
sidered what  relation  the  Spirit  bears  to  Christ,  a.s  he  is 
Emmanuel  and  Mediator  between  God  and  man ;  it  evi- 
dently shows  the  necessity  of  his  being  constituted  and 
made  such,  in  order  to  the  Spirit's  part  herein. 

V.  God's  own  judgment  is  the  surest  measure  to  direct 
ours  of  what  was  necessary,  in  this  case.  And  so  far  as 
the  ground  of  his  judgment  is,  by  himself,  made  visible  to 
us,  we  are  neither  to  put  out  our  own  eyes,  nor  turn  them 
away  from  beholding  it.  We  arc  to  reckon  it  always  safe 
and  modest  to  follow  him,  by  an  ob.sequious,  ductile  judg- 
ment of  things  apparent,  and  which  he  offers  to  our  view, 
or  appeals  to  us  about  them.  To  go  before  him  by  a  pre- 
ventive judgment  of  the  secret  things  that  belong  to  him, 
or  pretend  to  give  reasons,  or  an  account  of  his  matters, 
where  he  gives  none  himself,  argues  rashness,  arrogance, 
and  self-confidence,  whereof  we  can  give  no  account.  But 
our  judgment  may  be  truly  said  to  follow  his,  when  he 
having  in  his  word  declared  his  choice  of  such  a  course, 
which  he  steadily  pursues  in  his  consequent  dispensations; 
we  thereupon  conclude  that  course  to  be  most  fit,  and  that 
what  he  judged  most  fit,  was  to  him  (as  formerly  we  have 
insisted)  necessary.  Therefore  may  we  with  just  confi- 
dence undertake  to  show. 

That  his  declared,  chosen,  constant  course  of  giving  the 
Spirit,  for  restoring  his  temple  with  men,  is  to  do  it  in  and 
by  Christ,  or  Emmanuel,  the  constituted  Mediator  between 
God  and  man.  And  that  it  was  apparently  reasonable 
and  becoming  of  himself  so  to  do. 

Whereby  the  necessity  will  appear,  both  of  his  giving 
the  Spirit,  for  the  restoring  of  his  temple  ;  and  of  his  set- 
tling the  constitution  of  Emmanuel,  or  such  a  Mediator 
in  order  to  the  giving  his  Spirit. 

Only,  before  we  proceed  more  distinctly  to  discourse 
these  things,  it  seems  requisite  to  consider  and  discuss  a 
difficulty,  which  may  give  great  amusement  to  the  minds 
of  many,  viz. 

That  since,  by  the  drift  and  tendency  of  this  discourse, 
it  would  appear,  that  the  Son  of  God,  Emmanuel,  God 
with  us,  hath  by  his  own  dear  purchase,  a  fulness  of  Spirit 
in  him  for  this  blessed  work;  and  now  hath  it  in  his 
power  to  raise  temples  every  where  at  his  pleasure,  That 
yet  so  great  a  part  of  the  world  is  still  desolate,  full  of 
idols'  temples :  yea,  the  \'isible  temple  of  God  full  of 
idols,  destitute  of  the  Divine  Spirit,  under  the  poisonous 
influence  of  the  prince  of  the  poM-er  of  the  air,  the  spirit 
that  works  in  the  hearts  of  the  children  of  disobedience, 
Eph.  ii.  2.  and  by  an  efficacious  energy,'^  as  the  word 
there  used  emphatically  signifies.  For  what  hath  that 
accursed  spirit  more  power  to  destroy,  than  the  Son  of 
God  manifested  to  dissolve  and  destroy  the  works  of  the 
devil,  and  his  blessed  Spirit  hath  to  save  1 

Some  considerations  tending  to  disamuse  men's  minds 
about  this  matter,  may  make  way  for  our  clearer  and  less 
interrupted  progress  in  the  following  discourse.  There- 
fore consider, 

VI.  1.  That  the  raising  up  of  temples  to  God  in  the 
souls  of  men,  with  the  dispossessing  of  that  wicked  one, 
must  by  no  means  be  understood  to  be  the  work  of  mere 
power;  as  if  no  other  excellency  of  the  Divine  Being 
were  concerned  in  it.  Nor  is  it  fit  to  say  (as  elsewhere  is 
insisted)  that  God  can  do  every  thing  that  almightv  power 
can  do.  Almighty  power  gives  us  not  an  adequate  no- 
tion of  God.  He  is  every  other  excellency  as  well  as 
power  ;  and  can  do  nothing  but  what  agrees  with  every 
other  perfection  of  his  nature,  wisdom,  justice,  holiness, 
truth,  &c.  as  well  as  his  power. 

2.  The  Son  of  God,  Emmanuel,  having  obtained  an  in- 
finite fulness  of  power  to  reside  in  himself  cannot  be  ex- 
pected to  exert  it  to  the  utmost,  as  natural,  unintelligent 
agents  do  ;  but  so  far  as  is  suitable  to  the  proper  ends  of 
his  undertaking,  and  the  office  which  he  bears. 

3.  It  ought  to  be  deeply  considered,  as  a  truth  both  of 
clearest  evidence  and  great  importance,  (though  perhaps 
it  may  have  escaped  the  thoughts  of  many,)  that  the  prin- 
cipal end  of  our  Lord's  undertaking  and  office,  was  not 
the  salvation  of  men,  but  the  glory  of  God.  This  is  that 
whereupon  his  design  did  ultimately  terminate.      The 


100 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  11. 


other  he  coultl  only  intend  secondarily,  and  as  a  means  to 
this  ;  otherwise  he  should  make  the  creature  his  chief 
end,  and  place  upon  it  a  most  appropriate  Divine  prero- 
gative, to  be  the  last,  as  he  is  the  first,  to  all  things ;  which 
is  said  of  the  great  God,  in  reference  to  this  very  case,  the 
saving  of  some,  and  rejecting  of  others.  In  contempla- 
tion whereof,  the  apostle,  crying  out,  O  the  depth  !  asserts 
God's  absolute  liberty,  as  debtor  to  no  man,  (Rom.  xi.  33, 
34,  35.)  and  subjoins  the  true  reason  hereof.  That  of  him, 
and  by  him,  and  to  him,  are  all  things,  that  to  him  might 
be  glory,  &c.  This  is  the  avowed  design  of  our  Lord 
Christ's  office,  in  both  his  lowest  humiliation,  and  highest 
exaltation.  The  desire  of  being  saved  from  the  (approach- 
ing) hour  and  power  of  darkness  vanishes,  and  gives 
place  to  this, — Father,  glorify  thy  name,  John  xii.  27,  28. 
When,  for  his  obedience  to  death,  that  of  the  cross,  he  is 
highly  exalted — all  are  to  confess  him  Lord,  to  the  praise 
and  glory  of  God,  Phil.  ii.  8,  11.  He,  who  is  the  most 
competent  and  most  rightful  Judge,  determines  when  it  will 
be  more  for  the  glory  of  God,  to  dispossess  the  strong  man 
armed,  being  himself  the  stronger,  and  erect  that  house 
into  a  temple :  and  when  it  will  most  serve  this  his  great 
end,  to  leave  the  strong  man  armed  still  in  his  possession, 
and  finally  to  doom  the  possessor  and  the  possessed  to  take 
their  lot  together.  In  the  former  case,  there  are  vessels 
unto  honour,  framed  by  his  own  hand,  to  the  praise  of  the 
glory  of  grace,  Eph.  i.  6.  In  the  latter,  vessels  unto  dis- 
honour, to  glorify  his  power,  by  making  known  his  wrath 
and  just  resentments.  For  that  honourable  purpose,  none 
are  of  themselves  fit ;  but  he  makes  them  meet  for  that 
glorious  slate,  Col.  i.  12.  before  he  makes  them  partakers 
of  it ;  but  none  serve  the  dishonourable  use,  but  who  are, 
of  themselves,  vessels  of  wrath  fitted  for  destruction,  Rom. 
ix.  22.  Our  Lord  was  faithful  as  a  Son  ;  and  was  there- 
fore content  to  die  upon  a  cross,  that  he  might,  in  a  way 
against  which  the  strictest  justice  should  not  reclaim,  ob- 
tain to  himself  a  power  of  giving  an  apostate  world  a  time 
of  trial ;  and  as  men  should  acquit  themselves,  by  com- 
plying or  not  complying  with  his  methods,  glorify  the 
Father,  whose  glory  he  sought  as  being  sent  by  him,  and 
vindicate  the  rights  of  the  Divine  government,  both  in 
them  that  are  "  saved,  and  in  them  that  perish." 

VII.  4.  But  it  may  gain  us  further  advantage,  to  con- 
sider the  great  God  doth  not  pursue  ends,  as  we  are  wont 
to  do,  who  commonly  apprehend  ourselves  to  stand  in  need 
of  the  things  we  pursue  as  our  ends.  But  he  acts  agree- 
ably to  his  self-sufficient  fulness,  who  dwells  not  in  tem- 
ples made  with  hands,  nor  in  any  human  temple,  "  as  if 
he  needed  any  thing,  seeing  he  gives  to  all  life  and  breath, 
and  all  things;"  Acts  xvii.25.  and  expects  hereupon,  men 
si  <ild  seek  after  him : — as  nothing  is  more  fit,  than  that 
indigency  and  necessity  should  crave  and  supplicate  unto 
rich  and  abounding  fulness.  Princes  glory  in  their  acqui- 
sitions, and  the  increased  multitude  of  their  subjects,  from 
whom  they  have  an  increase  of  power,  and  the  ampler 
revenues ;  they  glory  in  receiving ;  He  in  giving,  in 
making  diffusive  goodness  flow  among  his  creatures.  Nor 
hath  he  any  cause  to  be  anxious  about  the  event,  or  how 
his  commimicalions  are  received  ;  beholding  always,  with 
infinitely  higher  complacency,  the  perfect  rectitude  of  his 
own  dispensations,  than  their  felicity,  though  he  take  a 
secondary  pleasure  in  that  too,  when  it  is  the  result  of  the 
former.  He  glories,  as  he  requires  us  to  do,  (Jer.  ix.  24.) 
that  he  exerciseth  loving-kindness,  judgment,  and  right- 
eousness in  the  earth,  because  in  those  he  delighteth. 

5.  Though  the  goodness  and  loving-kindness  of  God  be 
immense,  and  without  limit ;  yet,  the  exercise  of  it  is 
within  certain  limits,  which  annexed  judgment  or  the  most 
exquisite  wisdom  prescribes  to  it.  He  waits  to  be  gracious 
— and  because  he  is  the  God  of  judgment,  they  are  blessed 
that  wait  for  him,  Isa.  xxx.  18.  There  is  a  critical  season 
and  nick  of  lime,  which  men  are  concerned  to  wait  for; 
and  because  to  every  purpose  there  is  time  and  judgment, 
therefore  is  the  misery  of  men  great,  Eccl.  viii.  6.  For 
man  also  knows  not  his  time,  ck.  ix.  12.  The  most  perfect 
wisdom  hath  drawn  out  a  certain  verge,  within  which  the 
most  special  goodness  confines,  ordinarily,  its  communi- 
cations :  otherwise,  what  means  that, — if  thou  continue 
in  nis  goodness  1  Rom.  xi.  22.  with  that  of  Jude  21.  Keep 

b  Tl  OlKoSuftJ]  OV  TOV  T£XVIT0V,  oXXo    TUV  ScdlTOTOV. 


yourselves  in  the  love  of  God,  looking  for  the  mercy  of 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  unto  eternal  life.  While  we  con- 
verse with  the  ever  Blessed  One,  within  the  region  of  his 
own  love  and  goodness,  imbibing  and  taking  in  his  frep 
and  gracious  communications,  and  still  craving  and  ex- 
pecting more,  we  keep  within  the  sacred  vital  circle  and 
mclosure  ;  without  which,  is  darkness  and  the  shadow  of 
death.  We  breathe  in  the  element  of  life,  by  grateful 
aspirations,  and  respirations,  that  cannot  be  unpleasant  to 
ourselves,  but  must  be  infinitely  more  pleasant  to  him; 
who  reckons  it  a  more  blessed  thing  to  give  than  to  re- 
ceive. We  are  always  to  remember,  that  our  state  is  that 
of  expectants  :  that  we  keep  ourselves  in  the  love  of  God, 
looking,  waiting,  always  onward,  till  we  attain  eternal 
life.  Our  waiting  hath  the  annexed  promise  of  blessed- 
ne.ss,  as  above,  Isa.  xxx.  18.  and  Prov.  viii.  34.  And  is 
most  becomingly  required,  as  a  just  homage  unto  sove- 
reign goodness. 

6.  That  admirable  goodness  of  God,  which  shows  itself 
in  raising  up  temples  in  this  vile  world  by  the  Spirit  of 
Emmanuel,  claims  our  subordinate  co-operation  as  under- 
builders  in  this  structure;  We  are  to  work,  because  he 
works,  of  his  good  pleasure,  Phil.  ii.  12,  13.  Which 
signifies  both  his  liberty  and  delight  in  working.  It  is 
said,  1  Cor.  iii.  9.  Ye  are  God's  building ;  yet,  it  is  also 
said,  V.  14.  If  any  man's  work  abide,  which  he  hath 
built,  &c. 

One  of  great  note  in  the  ancient  Christian  church,  dis- 
coursing of  this  passage,  says,b  7%e  building  is  not  the 
artist's,  or  workman's,  but  the  Lord's,  that  owns  it ;  and 
who  is  to  be,  (as  a  little  after  he  speaks,)  the  <=  inhabitant 
of  it.  And  inasmuch  as  we  are  to  be  living,  intelligent 
temples,  we  are  also  to  be  ourselves  labourers  and  work- 
men (as  well  as  they  who  are  to  be  so  by  special  office)  in 
this  building.  But  if  our  work  be  pulling  down,  .stifling 
convictions,  suppressing  desires,  fear,  &c.  do  we  provoke 
the  Lord  to  jealousy,  by  keeping  up  the  service  of  the 
idols'  temple,  and  profaning  his  own,  1  Cor.  x.  22'?  or  have 
we  forgot  who  hath  said.  Vengeance  is  mine,  even  for 
treading  under-foot  the  Son  Emmanuel,  and  despiting  his 
Spirit  of  grace,  Heb.  x.  29,  30  1  The  high  pleasure  the 
blessed  God  takes  in  his  own  gracious  communications, 
gratefully  received,  and  his  just  resentment  and  displea- 
sure for  the  contemptuous  refusal  of  them,  may  be  under- 
stood some  way  to  measure  one  another.  Both  may  be 
conjectured  from  this  text  of  Scripture,  after  such  sort,  as 
the  great  things  of  God  can  be  conceived  of,  by  such  mean 
mortals.  The  Spirit  of  grace,  of  all  kindness,  love,  good- 
ness, benignity,  sweetness ;  O  the  inefl'able  delight  that 
blessed  Spirit  must  take  in  its  own  efl'usions,  tending  to  the 
recovery,  the  healing  and  saving,  of  a  lost  soul,  when  there 
is  an  agreeable  comportment  therewith !  But  the  despiting 
of  such  a  Spirit,  who  can  conceive  or  apprehend,  deeply 
enough,  the  horror  of  this  crime!  the  thwarting  the  de- 
sign of  so  compassionate  goodness !  Or  of  severity,  or 
soreness  of  punishment,  it  shall  be  thought  worthy  of! 

The  whole  work  of  faith,  i.  e.  that  entire  work,  neces- 
sary to  be  wrought  upon  the  soul  of  a  man  in  order  to  his 
future  felicity,  and  that  by  God's  own  power  is  called  the 
fulfilling,  or  satisfying,  the  good  pleasure  of  his  goodness, 
2  Thess.  i.  11.  O  the  plentitude  of  satisfaction  which  our 
blessed  Lord  takes  in  the  fulfilling  the  good  pleasure  of 
his  goodness,  when  the  methods  are  complied  with,  ac- 
cording whereto  he  puts  forth  his  power  for  efl^ecting  such 
a  work  !  But  if  we  can  apprehend  what  it  is  to  cross  a 
man  of  power  in  his  pleasures  ;  what  is  it  to  withstand  the 
great  God  in  his  pleasures !  even  the  pleasures  of  his  good- 
ness! his  most  connatural,  delightful  pleasures!  Some 
estimate  we  can  make,  by  supposing  a  wealthy,  potent, 
wise,  and  good  man,  intent  upon  reclaiming  a  poor,  wretch- 
ed, undone,  perverse  neighbour ;  if  his  supplies  and  coun- 
sels be  gratefully  received,  how  pleasant  is  it  to  his  bene- 
factor !  if  often  repeated,  they  are  scornfully  rejected,  how 
vexing  is  the  disappointment ! 

7.  We  must  know,  there  are  vincible  operations  of  that 
Spirit,  leading  on  to  those  that  are  victorious,  being  com- 
plied with ;  otherwise,  to  the  most  terrible  vengeance. 
When  it  was  charged  upon  the  Jews,  Acts  vii.  51.  that 
they  did  always  resist  the  Holy  Ghost,  as  their  fathers  did ; 

c  vaoi  Tjuets,  avros  cioiKOi.    Chrysost.  in  2  ad  Cor. 


CUAP.  X. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE, 


101 


It's  implied,  he  was  always  striving,  though  more  rarely, 
to  victory.  But  when  it  is  said,  Prov.  i.  23.  Turn  at  m}' 
reproof,  could  any  essay  to  turn  be  without  some  influence 
of  the  Spirit?  But  that  complied  with,  tends  to  pouring 
forth  a  copious  effusion,  not  to  be  withstood.  The  less 
sensible  adminicvla,  the  gentler  aids  and  insinuations  of 
grace,  lead  to  what  shall  overcome. 

8.  "Without  such  an  overpowering  effusion,  man's  impo- 
tency  will  be  acknowledged,  by  those  that  understand  either 
the  Scriptures  or  themselves.  But  how  perverse  is  the 
inference,  that  therefore  they  are  to  sit  still !  No  ;  there- 
fore to  pray,  cry,  strive,  wait,  more  than  they  that  wait  for 
the  morning,  till  he  be  gracious,  and  show  mercy. 

9.  Therefore,  for  men  to  be  destitute  of  the  Spirit  is 
criminal;  as  much  not  to  be  filled  with  the  Spirit,  as  to  be 
drunk  with  wine  :  the  same  authority  that  forbids  the  one, 
enjoins  the  other,  Eph.  v.  18. 

10.  But  though  it  be  God's  ordinary  method,  to  proceed 
gradually  in  raising  temples  to  himself  in  this  world,  he 
never  so  binds  his  own  hands,  as  not  to  do  extraordinary 
acts  of  grace  and  favour,  when  he  thinks  fit ;  and  without 
any  danger  of  forcing  men's  wills,  or  offering  violence  to 
human  nature:  than  which  imagination  nothing  is  more 
absurd ;  both  because, 

(1.)  The  forcing  of  a  man's  will,  implies  a  contradiction 
in  the  terms;  for  we  have  no  other  notion  of  force,  than 
the  making  one  do  a  thing  against  his  will.  But  it  is  im- 
possible a  man  should  will  or  be  willing  against  his  will. 
He  that  hath  made  a  man's  soul  and  all  its  powers,  well 
enough  knows  how  to  govern  him  without  violence,  and 
by  (though  never  so  sudden)  an  immission  of  his  light  and 
grace,  effectually  to  change  a  man's  will  without  forcing 
it.     And  also  because, 

(2.)  No  man  that  has  the  present  use  of  his  own  facul- 
ties, will  think  they  can  be  injured  by  Divine  light  and 
grace ;  or  that  they  hurt  the  nature  of  man,  which  they 
manifestly  tend  to  restore,  improve,  and  perfect.  Yet  no 
man  is  to  expect,  that  because  the  blessed  God  vouchsafes 
to  make  some  rarer  instances  of  dealing  by  way  of  sudden 
surprise  with  the  spirits  of  men,  that  this  should  be  his 
ordinary  method;  but,  more  usually,  to  awaken  them  into 
some  consideration  of  that  forlorn  state,  while  they  are 
destitute  of  the  Divine  presence,  and  their  souls  the  haunts 
and  residence  of  devils,  instead  of  temples  of  the  Holy 
Ghost.  And  to  make  them  know,  that  he  counts  the  gift 
of  his  Son,  and  Spirit,  too  great  things  to  be  despised,  or 
not  earnestly  sought,  after  he  hath  given  hope  of  their 
being  attained ;  or  that  the  neglect  thereof  .should  not  have 
a  very  terrible  vindication:  letting  men  feel  that  the  des- 
pising the  richness  of  his  goodness,  which  gently  leads  to 
repentance,  is  nothing  else  but  "  treasuring  up  wrath 
against  the  day  of  wrath,"  and  the  revelation  of  his  righte- 
ous judgment.  Inasmuch  as  he  owes  it  to  himself,  to  let 
them  know  that  the  high  and  lofty  One  that  inhabits  eter- 
nity, needs  not  seek  to  them  for  a  house,  Isa.  Ixvi.  1,  2. 
And  as  to  what,  in  ordinary  course,  he  judges  necessary, 
(lest  men  should  in  all  this  be  thought  justly  querulous,) 
he  appeals  to  themselves,  Isa.  v.  4.  What  could  I  have 
done  morel     Are  not  my  ways  equal?     Ezek.  xviii. 

Whereupon  we  now  proceed  to  show  the  two  things, 
before  intimated. 

1.  That  the  Holy  Spirit  is  not  otherwise  given,  than  in 
or  by  Emmanuel,  or  for  Christ's  sake. — 2.  How  necessary, 
or  (which  comes  fully  to  the  same)  how  highly  reasonable, 
it  was  in  itself,  and  may  appear  to  us,  that  so  mighty  a 
gift,  and  of  this  peculiar  nature  and  kind,  should  not  be 
vouchsafed  unto  men,  upon  other  terms,  or  in  any  other 
wav,  than  this.d 

VIII.  1.  For  the  former  of  these;  That  the  Spirit  of 
God  is  actually  given,  upon  this  account  only,  his  own 
word  sufficiently  assures  us.  And  who  can  so  truly  in- 
form us,  upon  what  consideration  he  doth  this,  or  that,  as 
he  himself?  Let  us,  then,  with  equal,  imbiassed  minds, 
consider  the  tenor  and  import  of  what  we  find  spoken  in 
the  Holy  Scriptures  about  this  matter,  which  I  conceive 
may  be  truly  summed  up  thus,  viz. 

(1.)  That  the  Holy  Spirit  is  given  to  this  purpose  of 
restoring  the  temple  of  God  with  men,  with  the  worship 

d  This  2d  comes  to  be  considered  chnp.  xi. 
11 


and  fruitions  thereof,  under  a  twofold  notion, — As  a  Builder, 
and  an  Inhabitant, 

(2.)  That  it  is  given  under  both  notions,  or  for  both  these 
purposes,  for  Christ's  .sake,  and  in  consideration  of  his 
death  and  sufferings;  though  they  have  not  influence  to 
the  obtaining  of  this  gilt,  for  both  these  purposes,  in  the 
same  way,  but  with  some  difference,  to  be  afterwards  ex- 
plained in  what  follows. 

(3.)  That  it  was  not  the  immediate  effect  of  his  suffer- 
ing, that  this  blessed  Spirit  should  be  forthwith  given  tc 
this  or  th'at  pariicular  person  ;  but  that  all  the  fulness  of  it 
be  given  into  Christ's  power,  and  the  right  of  dispensing 
it  annexed  to  this  office,  as  he  is  the  Redeemer  of  sinners, 
and  Mediator  between  God  and  them,  for  the  accomplish- 
ing the  end  of  his  ofl^ce,  the  ceasing  of  controversies,  eft 
mities,  and  di.saffections  on  our  part,  Godward. 

(4.)  That  hereupon,  its  actual  communication  for  botk 
the  mentiorjcd  purposes,  is  immediately  from  Christ,  or  b) 
and  through  him. 

(5.)  That  it  is  given  by  Christ, under  the  formernotion, 
or  for  the  former  purpose  of  rebuilding  God's  temple,  as 
a  sovereign,  or  an  ab.solute  plenipotentiary  in  the  affairs 
of  lost  souls,  in  a  more  arbitrary  way,  so  as  not  to  be  claim- 
able upon  any  foregoing  right. 

(6.)  That  he  gives  it,  under  the  latter  notion,  and  in  or- 
der to  a  continued  abode  and  inhabitation,  as  an  occono- 
rnus,  or  the  steward  of  the  household  of  God,  proceeding 
herein  by  fixed  rule,  published  in  the  gospel,  according 
whereto  the  subjects  of  this  following  communication, 
being  qualified  for  it,  by  the  former,  may,  with  certainty, 
expect  it  upon  the  prescribed  terms,  and  claim  it  as  a  righs; 
he  having,  by  the  merit  of  his  blood,  obtained  that  they 
might  do  so. 


CHAPTER  X. 

The  first  of  the  mentioned  sLx  head-s  insisted  on — That  the  Spirit  is  given 
both  as  a  Builder,  and  as  an  Inhaliilant  of  this  tcmi'le.  Scriplure  te,siunony 
conoemin?  the  former  of  those,  and  the  latter.  And  for  the  sake  of  his 
death  and  suft'erings-.  Anciently,  the  blessin?  of  Abraliam.  anil  liis  seed 
from  age  to  age,  upon  this  account.  More  copiously  and  to  oilier  na- 
tions, when  the  fulness  of  time  was  come.  Christ's  death  lialh  influence 
for  these  two  puriioses  with  much  difference,  to  be  aftenvards  explained. 
Colossians  i.  19,  20,  21.  largely  oiiened.  A  disression  rel.'iting  thereto. 
The  principal  import  of  that  te.\t,  to  show  the  dependence  Christ's  whole 
work  of  reconciliation,  both  of  God  to  us.  and  of  us  to  God,  had  upon  his 
sacrifice  on  tlie  cross.  The  latter  wheieof  is  eftected  by  his  Spirit,  obtained 
by  that  sacrifice  Other  texts  to  the  same  purpose.  Further  noted,  that  tlie 
Spirit  is  expressly  said  to  be  given  by  Christ,  or  in  liis  nanie,  &c.  Given  lor 
building  or  preparing  a  temple,  by  a  less  certain,  known  rule. 

I.  Now  let  us  see,  as  to  each  of  these,  whether  this  be 
not  the  plain  doctrine  of  the  Scriptures  in  this  matter, 

1.  For  the  first  of  these,  it  hath  been  sufiiciently  shown 
already,  and  the  common  experience  of  all  the  world 
shows,  that  till  this  blessed  Spirit  be  given,  the  temple 
of  God  is  every  where  all  in  ruin  :  that  therefore  he  can- 
not dwell  till  he  build,  and  that  he  builds  that  he  may 
dwell,  (the  case  and  his  known  design  being  considered,") 
are  things,  hereupon,  plain  in  themselves,  and  are  plainly 
enough  spoken  in  Scripture.  When  the  apostle  had  told 
the  Christians  of  Corinth,  (1  Cor.  iii.  9.)  "  Ye  are  God's 
building,"  he  shortly  after  adds,  (in  the  same  chapter,  v. 
16.)  "  Know  ye  not  that  ye  are  the  temple  of  God,  and 
that  the  Spirit  of  God  dwelleth  in  you  1"  This  temple, 
being  a  living  thing,  (as  1  Pet.  ii.  7.  represents  it,)  the 
verj'  building  and  formation  of  it  is,  in  the  more  peculiar 
sense,  generating  ;  and  because  it  is  to  be  again  raised  tip 
out  of  a  former  ruinous  state,  wherein  it  lay  dead,  and 
buried  in  its  own  ruins,  this  new  production  is  regenera- 
tion. And  do  we  need  to  be  put  in  mind  whose  work 
that  is  ?  that  "  it  is  the  Spirit  that  quickencth  ?"  (John  vi.) 
or  of  what  is  so  industriously  inculcated  by  our  Lord, 
(cA.  iii.  V.  3,  5,  6,  &c.)  and  tesiified  under  the  seal  of  his 
fourfold  avicn,  that  this  new  birth  must  be  by  the  Spirit  1 
And  we  have  both  notions  again  conjoined,  Eph.  ii.  For 
having  been  told,  (r.  IS.)  that  both  Jews  and  Gentiles 
have  by  one  Spirit  access  to  the  Father,  so  as  to  be  no 


10& 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  IT, 


longer  strangers  and  at  a  distance,  but  made  nigh  to  God  ; 
[v.  19.  compared  with  v.  13.)  'tis  said,  {v.  20.)  We  "  are 
built  upon  the  foundation  of  the  prophets  and  apostles, 
Jesus  Christ  himself  being  the  chief  Corner-stone  ;"  and 
again  added,  (r.  21.)  "  In  whom  all  the  building,  fitly 
framed  together,  groweth  (as  a  living  thing)  unto  an  holy 
temple  in  the  Lord."  After  all  which,  the  end  and  use  of 
this  building  (implied  in  the  name  of  a  temple)  is  more 
expressly  subjoined,  {v.  22.)  "  In  whom  also  ye  arebuilded 
together  an  habitation  of  God,  through  the  Spirit."  'Tis 
therefore  suificiently  evident,  that  the  Spirit  is  given  under 
these  distinct  notions,  and  for  these  several  purposes,  the 
one  .subordinated  to  the  other,  viz.  both  as  a  builder  and  a 
dweller. 

•II.  2.  That  it  is  given  for  Christ's  sake,  whether  for  the 
one  purpose  or  the  other,  is  as  expressly  signified  as  any 
thing  in  the  whole  gospel.  For  what  means  it,  that  it  is 
said  to  be  given  in  his  name  ?  John  xiv.  26.  and  xv.  26. 
That  the  work  it  does,  being  given,  is  said  to  be  done  in 
his  name  1  1  Cor.  vi.  11.  "Ye  are  sanctified  in  the  name 
of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  by  the  Spirit  of  our  God." 

Yea,  and  that  it  is  given  in  consideration  of  his  sufferings 
and  death,  is  not  less  plainly  spoken :  for  not  only  are  the 
immediate  and  most  peculiar  operations  of  this  Spirit  as- 
cribed to  his  death,  (1  Pet.  ii.  24.)  "  He  himself  bare  our 
sins  in  his  owti  body  on  the  tree,  that  we,  being  dead  to  sin, 
might  live  to  righteousness;"  but  the  imparting  of  the 
Spirit  itself,  is  represented  as  the  design  and  end  of  those 
sufferings,  Gal.  iii.  14.  "  He  was  made  a  curse  for  us ;  for 
cursed  is  every  one  that  hangeth  on  a  tree,  that  the  bless- 
ing of  Abraham  might  come  on  the  Gentiles,  that  we  might 
receive  the  promise  of  the  Spirit,"  &c. 

III.  It  was  the  same  way,  and  on  the  same  terms,  upon 
the  largeness  and  certainty  of  the  Divine  prospect  and 
foresight  touching  Christ's  future  sufferings,  that  this  was 
the  blessing  of  Abraham  and  his  posterity,  long  before  he 
suffered :  that  God  gave  them,  of  old,  his  Spirit  to  instruct 
them;  (Neh.  ix.  20.)  which  is  not  obscurely  implied,  when, 
looking  back  upon  the  days  of  old,  they  are  said  to  have 
"  rebelled,  and  vexed  his  Spirit ;"  (Isa.  Ixiii.  9,  10.)  and 
when  Stephen  tells  them,  (Acts  vii.  51.)  "  Ye  do  always 
resist  the  Holy  Ghost ;  as  your  fathers  did,  so  do  ye ;"  it  is 
implied  that  even  from  age  to  age  that  blessed  Spirit  was 
striving  with  them  ;  (children  and  fathers ;)  for  there  could 
be  no  resistance,  where  there  was  no  striving :  and  that, 
in  those  former  ages,  that  Holy  Spirit  was  active  among 
them  upon  Christ's  account,  and  by  the  procurement  of 
his  future  sacrifice,  (presignified  by  their  many  sacrifices,) 
is  also  suthciently  intimated,  in  that,  when  it  is  said.  That 
under  Moses,  they  did  eat  and  drink  spiritual  meat  and 
drink,  they  are  said  to  have  drank  of  the  rock  that  followed 
them  ;  and  'tis  added,  that  rock  was  Christ.  And  by  what 
provocations  could  they  be  supposed  more  to  resist  and 
vex  the  Holy  Spirit,  than  by  tlK«e  wherewith,  in  the  day 
of  provocation  and  temptation,  they  are  said  to  have  lusted 
in  the  wilderness,  and  tempted  God  in  the  desert,  (Ps. 
cvi.  14.  Ps.  Ixxviii.  Ps.  xcv.  Heb.  iii.)  by  which  they  are 
expressly  said  to  have  tempted  Christ,  1  Cor.  x.  9.  And 
certainly  the  privilege  was  inestimably  great,  (though  they 
too  generally  little  esteemed  it,  and  made  little  advantage 
of  it,)  that  when  the  most  of  the  world  besides  was  nothing 
else  but  waste,  neglected  wilderness,  they  should  be  an 
enclosed  vineyard,  under  the  long-continued  droppings 
and  dews  of  heavenly  influence.  For  it  was  not  but  upon 
high  and  long  provocation,  that  at  last  God  commands  his 
clouds  to  rain  no  more  rain  upon  it,  Isa.  v.  6.  How  sin- 
gular a  favour  was  it  to  be  the  appropriate  plantation, 
vineyard,  and  garden  of  God,  taken  in  from  so  vast  and 
wild  a  desert !  and  that  the  God  of  Abraham  would  so  long 
continue  the  relation,  and  be  their  God ;  to  bless  them  with 
the  choice  of  his  blessings,  those  whereof  his  own  Spirit 
was  the  peculiar  source  and  spring  I 

IV.  But  when  the  fulness  of  time,  and  the  season  for 
the  actual  immolation  of  that  Sacrifice,  (once  for  all,  to 
be  offered  up,)  was  now  come,  that  the  immense  fulness  of 
its  value  and  virtue  might  be  duly  demonstrated  and  glo- 
rified; down  goes  the  enclosure,  which  the  amplitude  and 
exteasiveness  of  God's  kind  design  could  no  longer  en- 
dure :  and  as  som£  time  the  great  prophetic  oracle  given 
te  Abraham,  must  taJie  efiect,  In  thy  seed  (and  '^tis  said, 


not  of  seeds,  as  of  many,  but  of  seed,  as  of  one,  viz.  Christ, 
Gal.  iii.  10.)  shall  all  the  nations  of  the  earth  be  blessed; 
this  is  the  time.  Now  must  the  blessing  of  Abraham 
come  upon  the  Gentiles.  Nor  could  any  time  have  been 
more  fitly  chosen,  that  the  copiousness  and  vast  diffusion 
of  the  effect  might  demonstrate  and  magnify  the  power 
and  fulness  of  the  cause,  and  even  lead  the  eyes  of  all  unto 
it.  The  drawing,  so  generally  of  all  men,  was  that  which 
must  dignify  the  cross,  and  incite  all  eyes  to  behold  and 
adore  the  Son  of  man  lift  up,  John  xii.  32.  and  in  the 
midst  of  death,  even  with  his  dying  breath,  sending  forth 
so  copious  and  far-spreading  a  diffusion  of  spirit  and 
life  !  And  now  had  it  only  been  said  loosely  and  at 
large,  that  this  was  brought  about  by  his  dying,  that  might 
admit  a  great  latitude  of  sense,  and  give  some  room  for 
sinister  interpretation.  The  intendment  of  the  expres- 
sion might  be  thought  sufficiently  answered,  if,  any  way, 
his  dying  did  occasion  good  impressions  upon  the  minds 
of  men.  But  when  the  effect  is  expressly  ascribed  to  his 
dying  so,  as  the  cause,  i.  e.  to  his  being  lift  up,  to  his  being 
made  a  curse  in  dying,  by  hanging  on  a  tree,  and  a  curse 
for  us,  to  redeem  us  thereby  from  the  legal  curse  which 
lay  upon  us  before;  the  curse  of  the  law,  the  doom  which 
the  violated  law  laid  upon  us,  of  having  (as  is  apparently 
meant)  the  Spirit  withheld  from  us,  that  thereupon  the 
great  and  rich  blessing  might  come  upon  us,  of  having 
that  Holy  Spirit  freely,  and  without  further  restraint, 
communicated  to  us ;  this  puts  the  matter  out  of  all  dis- 
pute, that  it  was  in  consideration  of  his  dying,  that  God 
now  gives  his  Spirit,  and  leaves  no  place  for  contending 
against  it  unto  any,  who  have  not  more  mind  to  object, 
than  they  can  have  pretence  lor  it. 

It  is,  then,  the  plain  doctrine  of  the  Scriptures,  that  the 
Spirit  is  given  for  the  restoring  of  God's  temple  with  men, 
for  the  sake  of  Christ's  death  and  sufferings,  who  was  Em- 
manuel, and,  in  his  own  person,  the  original  temple,  out  of 
which  each  single  temple  was  to  arise  and  spring  up,  as 
well  as  he  was  the  exemplary  temple,  unto  which  they  were 
all  to  be  conformed. 

V.  But  whereas  his  sufferings  and  death  have  Iheir  in- 
fluence differently,  to  the  Spirit's  building  of  any  such  par- 
ticular secondary  temple,  and  to  his  replenishing  and  in- 
habiting  it :  that  difference  we  shall  find  is  not  inexplicable 
or  very  difficult  to  be  represented  according  to  the  tenor 
of  the  Scriptures  also.  In  order  whereto  it  will  be  of  use 
to  add, 

3.  That,  as  the  immediate  effect  of  his  sufferings  and 
death,  the  Spirit  in  all  the  fulness  thereof,  is  first  given 
into  his  power,  and  the  right  of  communicating  it  annexed 
to  his  office,  as  he  is  the  Emmanuel,  the  Redeemer  of 
sinners,  and  Mediator  between  God  and  them ;  that  it 
might  implant  what  was  necessary,  root  out  what  should 
be  finally  repugnant,  either  to  their  duty  towards  him  or 
their  felicity  in  him. 

That  this  was  the  end  of  his  office,  the  very  notion  of  a 
mediator  between  God  and  men  doth  plainly  intimate; 
(1  Peter  iii.  18.)  "For  Jesus  Christ  himself  suffered  once, 
the  just  for  the  unjust,  to  bring  us  to  God."  Which  must 
signify  not  only  that  he  was  to  render  God  accessible,  ex- 
piating by  his  blood  our  guilt ;  but  also,  to  make  us  willing 
to  come  to  him,  vanquishing  by  his  Spirit  our  enmity, 
procured  also  by  his  suffering,  the  just  for  the  unjust,  with- 
out both  we  could  not  be  brought  to  God,  which  was,  we 
see,  the  end  of  his  suffering. 

That  all  fulness  did,  upon  his  suffering,  reside  in  him, 
for  this  purpose  is  as  plainly  signified  by  that  remarkable 
connexion.  Col.  i.  19,  20.  "For  it  pleased  the  Father  that 
in  him  should  all  fulness  dwell — and,  having  made  peace 
by  the  blood  of  his  cross,  by  him  to  reconcile  all  things 
to  himself"  The  Father  is  not  in  the  original  text,  (the 
verb  being  left  impersonal,)  but  is  fitly  and  necessarily 
understcx)d;  for  whose  pleasure  can  this  be  supposed  to 
be,  but  the  Father's  1  And  so  the  current  of  discourse 
doth  thus  run  smooth.  "  The  Father  was  pleased  that 
all  fulness  should  dwell  in  him,  having  made  peace  by  the 
blood  of  his  cross,  by  him  to  reconcile  all  things  to  him- 
self; even  by  him :  for  that  is  inculcated  a  second  time. 
It  was  judged  necessary  to  this  reconciling  design,  that 
all  fulness  should  dwell  in  him.  But  who  did  thus 
judge  1     TheFather  was  pleased  it  should  be  so;  but  upon 


Chap.  X. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


103 


what  consideration  1  "  having  made  peace  by  the  blood  of 
his  cross."  The  same  He,  that  was  pleased  all  fulness 
should  dwell  in  him,  was  so  pleased,  as  having  made 
peace  by  the  blood  of  the  cross ;  for  the  syntax  cannot 
admit  that  nprjioir.nrio-as  should  be  spoken  of  the  Son;  but 
the  Father  (as  agent,  agreeably  to  that  2  Cor.  v.  18.  "  All 
things  are  of  God,  who  hath  reconciled  us  to  himself,  by 
Jesus  Christ")  having  made  peace;  or  pitched  upon  this 
method,  and  laid  this  foundation  of  making  peace,  (for  'tis 
usual  to  speak  of  a  thing  as  done,  when  it  is  put  into  a 
sure  way  of  being  so)  by  the  olood  of  his  Son's  cross,  was 
now  content  that  all  fulness  should  dwell  in  him,  to  be 
diffused  by  him,  through  the  world,  in  order  to  his  having 
temples  prepared,  inhabited,  replenished  with  Divine  glory 
every  where;  not  in  heaven  only,  which  was  already  full 
of  them,  or  where  it  was  easy  to  suppose  he  might  find 
such  temples  ready  prepared  in  all  quarters;  but  even  on 
earth  also,  where  all  was  waste  and  desolate,  nothing  to 
be  seen  hut  tbrlorn  ruins. 

VI.  And  ,  by  the  way,  (that  we  may  make  some,  not 
unuseful,  digression,')  it  is  very  ordinary  in  Scripture,  to 
join  things  in  the  same  period,  as  if  they  were  of  equal 
concernment,  when,  though  they  are  mentioned  together, 
their  concernment  is  very  different,  and  the  main  stress  is 
intended  to  be  laid  but  on  the  one  of  them;  the  other 
being  placed  there,  either  as  an  opposite,  the  more  to  illus- 
trate and  set  off  that  with  which  it  is  joined  ;  or  as  an  in- 
troduction, a  thing  supposed,  and  which  had  place  already, 
unto  which  the  other  is  more  principally  necessary  to  be 
added ;  and  then  is  the  form  of  speech,  manifestly,  ellip- 
tical, but  so,  as  that  to  considering  readers  'tis  easy  to 
apprehend  what  is  to  be  supplied.  As  when  the  apostle 
speaks  thus,  (Rom.  vi.  17.)  "God  be  thanked,  that  ye 
were  the  .servants  of  sin,  but  ye  have  obeyed  from  the 
heart  that  form  of  doctrine  which  was  delivered  to  you;" 
doth  the  apostle  intend  to  thank  God  for  their  having 
been  the  servants  of  sin  1  No  man  can  think  so.  But 
that,  whereas,  or  notwithstanding,  they  had  been  so,  (which 
was  the  thing  to  be  supplied,)  they  did  now  obey,  &c.  So 
that  (John  iii.  5.)  "Except  a  man  be  born  of  water,  and  of 
the  Spirit,  he  cannot  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God."  It 
was  certainly  none  of  our  Saviour's  design  to  assert  the 
absolute,  universal  necessity  of  washing  with  water,  equally, 
with  being  born  of  the  Spirit ;  but  whereas  it  was  the  known 
manner  among  the  Jews  to  admit  proselytes  to  their  reli- 
gion, by  baptism,  (which  was  then  reckoned  as  a  new  birth,) 
his  design  was,  without  rejecting  that  as  useless,  (which 
he  intended  to  continue  in  the  Christian  church,)  to  repre- 
sent the  greater  and  most  indispensable  necessity,  of  being 
born  of  the  Spirit,  added  to  the  other,  and  that  without 
this  the  other  alone  would  avail  nothing.  When  again  it 
is  said,  (James  i.  9,  10.)  "  Let  the  brother  of  low  degree 
rejoice  in  that  he  is  exalted  ;  but  the  rich,  in  that  he  is 
made  low;"  it  cannot  be  thought  that  both  these  w^ere 
equally  intended  to  be  enjoined ;  but  the  former  is  sup- 
posed, as  a  thing  that  would  be  naturally,  and  of  course  ; 
Let  him,  q.  d.  admit  he  do,  or  he  may,  or  it  is  taken  for 
granted  that  he  will,  rejoice,  who,  being  of  low  degree,  is 
exalted.  But  the  principal  design  is  to  show,  what  it  is 
less  obvious  to  apprehend  or  imagine,  that  the  rich  hath  a 
truer  cause  and  greater  reason  to  rejoice  when  he  is  made 
iOW  ;  because  he  was,  otherwise,  apt  to  please  himself,  or 
be  mocked  w'ith  a  shadow.  Manj^  more  such  instances 
might  be  given  of  two  things  thus  joined  together  in  the 
same  assertion,  or  sometimes,  in  the  same  precept,  where 
the  intendment  is  to  make  us  of  the  one,  either  b}^  wa)'  of 
opposition,  or  comparison,  the  more  to  magnify,  or  to  lay 
the  greater  weight  on,  the  other. 

The  matter  may  well  be  so  understood  in  the  place 
nnder  our  present  consideration ;  "by  him  to  reconcile  all 
things  to  himself,"  (things  being  put  for  persons,  as  else- 
where in  Holy  Scripture,  Luke  xix.  10.  1  John  v.  4.  and 
commonly  in  other  writers,)  "  whether  things  on  earth,  or 
things  in  heaven  ;"  i.  e.  even  as  well  men  on  earth,  where 
the  difficulty  was  greater,  and  where  enmity  against  God 
did  rage,  where  he  was  set  at  greatest  distance  and  highest 
defiance ;  as  those  in  heaven,  where  all  was  pacate  alread}', 
and  therefore  a  word  was  chosen  more  suitable  to  the  state 
of  their  case,  who  were  principally  intended,  vis.  of  recon- 
ciling; meaning  that,  by  reconciliation,^  he  would  make 


the  state  of  things  on  earth,  now  so  filled  with  enmity 
against  God,  suitable  to  their  state  above,  among  whom 
there  was  none:  and  yet  a  word  not  wholly  incongruous 
to  the  heavenly  state  also ;  for  da-o/caTaXXurrcii/  doth  not 
always  suppose  a  foregoing  enmity,  as  KaraWaTTCiv  (used 
2  Cor.  V.  19,  20.)  doth  not  always;  nor  doth  the  decom- 
pound here  more  limit  the  sense;  but  doth  sometimes 
signify  to  conciliate,  or  draw  into  society,  and  may,  in  re- 
ference to  that  state  above,  have  reference  to  the  continu- 
ation of  amity  and  accord  there;  that  no  more  any  such 
rapture,  a.s  once  there  wa.s,  should  have  place  in  those 
bright  regions  for  ever.  And  it  seems  designed  for  the 
Redeemer's  more  consummate  glory,  that  the  perpetual  sta- 
bility of  the  heavenly  state  should  be  owing  to  him,  and 
to  the  most  inestimable  value  of  his  oblation  on  the  cross; 
that  it  should  be  put  upon  his  account,  and  be  ascribed  to 
the  high  merit  of  his  pacificatory  sacrifice,  that  they  con- 
tinue in  obedience  and  favour  for  ever!  For  why,  else,  is 
the  mention  of  the  "  blood  of  his  cross"  so  carefully  in- 
serted, and  that,  rather  than  be  omitted,  it  is  even  thrust 
into  a  parenthesis :  "  It  pleased  the  Father  that  in  him 
should  all  fulness  d^-ell,  and  (having  made  peace  by  the 
blood  of  his  cross)  to  reconcile  all  things  to  himsell^ — on 
earth — in  heaven !"  This  is  the  more  remarkably  designed, 
though  yet,  the  principal  import  of  the  word  reconciled 
(as  any  word  that  is  to  be  applied  to  divers  matters,  is 
differently  to  be  understood,  according  to  the  diversity  of 
the  matter)  is  accommodated  to  their  case,  who  were  prin- 
cipally intended,  riz.  those  on  earth,  who  were  in  enmity 
with  God.  And  the  following  words  show  these  to  have 
been  here  principally  intended  :  "  And  j'ou,  who  were 
sometime  alienated,  and  enemies  in  your  minds  by  wicked 
works,  yet  now  hath  he  reconciled,"  &c.  (v.  21.)  q.  d.  He 
hath  not  only  conciliated  to  himself,  or  made  sure  of  the 
everlasting  amity  of  those,  who  were  always  dutiful  in 
heaven ;  but  he  hath  also  recovered  the  good-will  and 
loyal  affection  of  such  on  earth,  as  were  at  enmity,  in  an 
apostacy,  alienated,  and  enemies  in  their  minds;  and  all, 
by  the  same  means,  the  virtue  and  fragrancy  of  a  sacrifice, 
sufficient  to  fill  heaven  and  earth  with  its  grateful  odour, 
and  whose  efficacy  can  never  decrease  to  all  eternity.  Nor, 
therefore,  is  it  consequent,  that  the  direct  intention  of  this 
his  sacrifice,  should  bear  reference  to  the  concernments  of 
angels,  whose  nature  he  took  not,  but  from  the  redundancy 
of  its  merit,  this  inestimable  advantage,  rf~.  the  permanent 
stability  of  their  slate,  may  well  be  supposed  to  accrue  to 
them;  and,  for  the  greater  honour  of  the  Redeemer,  they 
made  debtors  to  him  for  it. 

And  why  should  it  seem  incongruous,  that  those  most 
constantly  pure  and  holy  creatures  above,  who  are,  in  this 
same  context,  (r.  IG.)  made  to  owe  whatever  excellencies 
they  have,  within  the  sphere  of  nature,  to  the  Son  of  God, 
should  owe  to  him  also,  whatsoever  they  have,  within  the 
sphere  of  Grace  1  Yea,  how  aptly  do  things  correspond, 
that,  whereas  it  had  been  said  above,  (r.  16.)  "  By  him 
were  all  things  created,  that  are  in  heaven,  and  that  are  on 
earth,"  &c.  it"  should  also  be  after  said,  "by  him  are  all 
things  reconciled,"  either  recovered  into,  or  continued  in, 
everlasting  amity  with  him,  i.  e.  That  whosoever  partake 
of  special  Divine  favour,  whether  they  be  of  the  things  on 
the  earth,  or  the  things  in  heaven,  shall  for  the  future  be 
debtors  to  him  for  it.  And  whereas  it  is  expressly  said  in 
Scripture,  that  "when  God  raised  him  from  the  dead,  he 
set  him  far  above  all  principality  and  power."  &c.  Fph.  i. 
20,  21.  (which  words  ik-aOiaev  vr:ipiiio,  Set  him  ulorc.  not 
only  signify  constitution,  a  thing  diverse  from  natural  pri- 
ority, but  also,  being  conjunct  with  his  raising  him  liom 
the  "dead,  import  a  reference  to  his  dj-ing,  and  conquest 
over  death,  as  the  reason  of  it,)  and  that  "being  gone  into 
heaven — angeis,  and  authorities,  and  powers  are  made 
.subject  to  him;"  (.1  Pet.  iii.  22.)  and  that  he  being  said 
to  be  "the  head  of  all  principalities  and  powers;"  he 
might,  by  themselves,  be  understood  not  to  be  a  use- 
less or  unbeneficial  Head  to  them.  Though  it  also  is  not 
to  be  forgotten,  that  at  the  time  when  the  apostle  wrote 
these  words,  a  considerable  part  of  that  holy  blessed  so- 
ciety, then  in  heaven,  were  sometime  on  earth,  in  a  state  of 
enmity  aijainst  God,  and  so  who  needed  reconciliation  in 
the  strict  and  proper  sense ;  as  they  did  who  were  still  on 
earth,  and  to  whom  he  now  more  particularly  directs  his 


104 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  11. 


speech,,  (v.  21.)  "  And  you  also,  who  were  sometime  alien- 
ated—yet now  hath  he  reconciled,"  &c. 

VII.  But,  though  I  could  not  think  it  an  impertinency, 
to  use  some  endeavour  for  clearing  the  whole  of  this 
(somewhat  obscure)  context,  it  coming,  as  it  did,  in  my 
way,  yet  the  principal  thing,  with  reference  to  my  present 
scope  and  purpose,  which  I  consider  in  it,  is  that  it  was 
upon  the  account  of  the  blood  of  our  Redeemer  shed  on 
the  cross,  that  the  Father  was  pleased  all  fulness  should 
dwell  in  him,  as  an  original  Temple,  to  serve  the  purposes 
of  that  great  reconciling  work,  undertaken  by  him,  the 
raising  up  of  multitudes  of  temples,  all  sprung  from  this 
one,  in  this  world  of  ours.  That  God  might  dwell  with 
men  on  earth!  that  amazing  thing!  2  Chron.  vi.  18.  And 
that  ascending  (in  order  whereto  he  was  first,  dying,  to 
descend)  that  he  might  fill  all  things,  give  gifts,  that  of  his 
Spirit  especially;  and  that  to  such  as  were  enemies  in 
their  minds,  by  wicked  works,  even  the  rebellious  also, 
that  the  Lord  God  might  have  his  temple,  and  dwell  with 
them,  Psal.  Ixviii.  18.  And  whereas  that  work  must 
comprehend  the  working  out  of  enmity  from  the  hearts  of 
men  against  God,  (and  not  only  the  propitiating  of  God 
to  them,  which  the  word  ti'pjji/oTroiijtra?  seems  more  princi- 
•.lally  to  intend,)  and  that  a  great  communication  of  influ- 
ence from  the  Divine  Spirit,  was  necessary  for  the  over- 
coming that  enmity ;  that  therefore  this  fulness  must 
include  (among  other  things,  being  vav  TrMpufia,  all  fulness) 
an  immense  treasure  and  abundance  of  Spirit,  (which  is 
elsewhere  said  to  be  given  him,  not  by  measure,  John  iii. 
31.)  and  that  therefore  his  sufferings  did  obtain  this  ple- 
nitude of  Spirit  to  be  first  seated  in  him,  as  the  receptacle 
and  fountain,  whence  it  must  be  derived,  and  that  the 
power  and  right  of  dispensing  it  should  belong  to  his 
office,  as  he  was  the  great  Reconciler  and  Mediator  be- 
tween God  and  man.  Which  also  many  other  texts  of 
Scripture  do  evidently  imply,  as  when  he  is  represented 
as  a  universal  Plenipotentiary,  able  to  quicken  whom  he 
will,  John  V.  21.  And  "all  power  is  said  to  be  given 
him,  both  in  heaven  and  earth;"  (Matt,  xxviii.  18.)  and 
that  "the  Father  had  given  all  things  into  his  hands," 
(John  xiii.  3.)  which  must  comprehend  the  power  of  giv- 
ing the  Spirit,  and  which  the  end  of  giving  him  that  ple- 
nitude of  power  plainly  requires.  "  Thou  hast  given  him 
power  over  all  flesh,  that  he  might  give  eternal  life  to  as 
many  as  thoir  hast  given  him;"  (John  xvii.  2.)  the  Spirit 
given  being  the  root  of  that  life,  (Gal.  vi.  8.)  they  that  sow 
to  the  Spirit,  shall  of  the  Spirit  reap  life  everlasting.  And 
that  he  is  exalted  to  be  a  Prince  and  a  Saviour,  to  give 
repentance,  (which  equally  implies  the  gift  of  the  Spirit,) 
as  well  as  remission  of  sins,  Acts  v.  31.  Nor  is  the  con- 
sideration of  his  sufferings  and  death  less  pMnly  signified 
to  be  the  ground,  upon  which  this  fulness  of  power  is 
given  him;  when  it  is  said,  "Christ  both  died,  and  re- 
vived, and  rose  again,  that  he  might  be  Lord  of  the  living 
and  the  dead,"  Rom.  xiv.  8.  And  when,  after  mention  of 
his  being  obedient  to  death,  &.c.  it  is  said,  "  Wherefore 
God  hath  highly  exalted  him,"  &c.  that  all  "should  con- 
fess Christ  is  Lord,"  &c.  Phil.  ii.  5,  6,  7,  8,  11. 

We  further  note, 

VIII.  4.  That  hereupon,  the  Spirit  (whether  it  be  for 
the  one  or  the  other  of  the  mentioned  purposes)  is  actually 
and  immediately  given  by  Christ,  or  by  the  authority  of 
that  office  which  he  bears ;  than  v.'hich  nothing  can  be 
plainer^in  that  he  is  called  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  Rom.  viii. 
9.  And  when  our  Lord  himself  uses  the  expressions 
about  this  matter,  with  such  mdifTerency,  and  as  equiva- 
lent ;  either  "  I  will  send  him,"  John  xvi.  7.  or,  "  I  will 
send  him  from  my  Father,"  John  xv.  26.  or,  "  My  Father 
will  send  him  in  my  name,"  John  xiv.  26.  Which  what 
can  it  signify  less,  than  that,  as  the  Father  was  the  first 
Fountain  of  this  communication,  so  the  established  way 
and  method  of  it  was  in  and  by  Christ,  from  which  thei'e 
was  to  be  no  departure  1  as  is  also  signified  in  that  of  the 
apostle,  Eph.  i.  3.  "  Blessed  be  the  God  and  Father  of 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who  hath  blessed  us  with  all 
spiritual  blessings  in  heavenly  places  (or  things)  in  Christ." 

And  when  we  consider,  how  exact  care  is  taKen  in  well- 
ordered  secular  governments,  not  only  that  things  be  done 
which  the  afl^kirs  of  the  government  required,  but  that 
they  be  done  regularly,  and  in  the  way  which  is  prescribed 


and  set ;  so  as  that  every  one  Imows  and  attends  the 
business  of  his  own  place  and  station ;  and  that  no  one 
may  expect  that  from  the  treasurer,  which  is  to  be  done  by 
the  chancellor,  or  that  from  him,  which  belongs  to  the 
secretary  of  state.  If  there  be  any  beauty  and  comeliness 
in  order,  where  should  we  more  expect  to  find  it,  than  in 
the  Divine  government,  and  in  the  conduct  and  manage- 
ment of  the  afl^airs  of  the  supreme  and  celestial  kingdom ; 
wherein  only  the  remoteness  of  those  things  from  our 
sense,  makes  every  thing  seem  little  and  inconsiderable  1 
But  did  we  allow  ourselves  to  retire  more  frequently  out 
of  this  world  of  shadows,  and  ascend  into  those  glorious 
regions  above ;  there  to  contemplate  the  bright  orders  of 
holy,  loyal  spirits,  all  emplo)'ed  in  the  services  of  the  ce- 
lestial throne,  and  to  behold  Jesus  the  Head  of  all  prin- 
cipalities and  powers,  the  Restorer  of  what  was  sunk  and 
decayed,  and  the  Upholder  of  the  whole  sliding  universe, 
even  of  the  noblest  parts  of  it,  that  were  liable  to  the  same 
lapse  and  decay;  by  whom  all  things  consist;  we  should 
not  think  it  strange  that  such  deference  and  honour  should 
belong  to  his  office;  that  it  should  be  rendered  every  way 
so  august  and  great,  that  he  should  be  so  gloriously  en- 
throned  at  the  right  hand  of  the  Majesty  on  high  ;  and 
that,  when  his  administrations  are  manageable  with  sc 
much  ease  and  pleasure,  to  one  of  so  immense  wisdom, 
power,  and  goodness,  all  acts  of  grace  and  favour  should, 
more  especially,  pass  through  his  hands.  And  if  we  un- 
derstand any  thing  of  the  distinction  &f  persons  in  the  ever 
blessed  Deity,  (Avhereof  if  we  understand  nothing,  how  do 
we  adventure  to  affirm  anj^  thing  1)  it  is  not  more  difficult 
to  apprehend  distinct  employments,  wherein,  yet,  all  can 
never  fail  to  have  their  most  complacential  consent.  And 
when  that  kind  of  office  was  so  freely  undertaken  by  the 
Son,  the  susception  and  management  whereof  hath,  no 
doubt,  filled  the  supreme  court,  at  first,  and  from  age  to 
age,  with  his  highest  celebrations  and  praises,  and  for  the 
execution  whereof,  when  he  made  his  first  descent  into 
this  world  of  ours,  and  was  to  appear  an  incarnate  God 
on  earth,  a  proclamation  was  published  in  heaven,  "  Now 
let  all  the  angels  of  God  worship  him ;"  and  in  his  execu- 
tion whereof,  they  had,  from  time  to  time  afterwards,  spon- 
taneously stooped  down  to  behold,  with  pleased  wonder, 
his  surprisingly  strange  and  prosperous  methods  and  per- 
formances ;  who  can  think  it  unsuitable  to  the  dignity  and 
authority  of  so  great  and  so  highly  magnified  an  office, 
unto  which  all  the  power  of  heaven  and  earth  was  annexed, 
that  it  should  by  consent  belong  to  it,  to  employ  the  whole 
agency  of  the  Holy  Ghcst,  in  pursuance  of  its  high  and 
great  ends  ? 

But  now,  he  having  by  his  blood  obtained,  that  this 
immense  plenitude  of  Spirit  should  reside  in  him,  not  for 
himself,  personally  considered,  (for  so  he  had  it  by  natu- 
ral, eternal  necessity,  without  capitulation  or  procurement,) 
but  as  he  was  invested  with  such  an  office,  and  in  order 
to  its  being,  by  the  power  of  that  office,  communicated  to 
others;  it  is  easy  to  be  conceived,  and  maybe  collected 
from  the  tenor  of  Holy  Scripture,  in  what  different  methods 
it  was  to  be  communicated,  for  the  (already  mentioned) 
different  ends  of  that  communication,  viz.  the  rebuilding 
of  God's  temple  on  earth,  and  the  constant  inhabiting  and 
replenishing  it  afterwards.     Therefore, 

IX.  5.  For  the  former  of  these  purposes,  it  is  given 
more  arbitrarily,  and  of  more  absolute  sovereignty,  not 
limited  by  any  certain,  published,  or  known  rule;  or  other 
than  what  lay  concealed  in  secret  purpose.  Here  the  first 
principle  is  given  of  that  life  which  springs  out,  and  exerts 
itself,  in  the  generating  and  forming  of  a  living  temple ; 
which  grows  up  into  everlasting  life,  and  makes  it  an 
eternally  living  thing.  Now  whereas  he  hath  so  va.st  a 
power  given  him  by  the  Father  over  all  flesh,  (which  giv- 
ing, we  again  note,  must  signify  this  not  to  be  the  power 
he  had  by  natural  inherence,  but  by  later  constitution.) 
we  do  know  to  whom,  or  to  what  sort  of  persons,  this 
eternal  life,  in  the  consummate  state  of  it,  is  to  be  given, 
for  that  is  sufficiently  declared  in  Scripture ;  but  we 
are  not  told  to  whom  it  shall  be  given  in  the  very  initial 
state,  or  in  the  first  and  seminal  principle  of  it;  that  is 
reserved  among  the  Arcana  Imperii,  the  secret  resolves,  or 
placita  of  the  divine  government.  And  so,  taking  the 
v/hole  of  it  together,  (as  here  we  must,)  we  are  only  told, 


Chap.  X. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


10.5 


He  will  give  it  to  as  many  as  the  Father  hath  given  him, 
John  xvii.  2.  We  do  find  a  connexion,  (Rom.  viii.  30.) 
of  predestination,  calling,  justification,  and  glorification : 
but  not  of  a  sinner,  as  such,  with  any  of  these.  So  obser- 
vable was  that  of  a  noted  *  ancient,  "  He  that  hath  promised 
pardon  to  a  penitent,  hath  not  (except  with  very  great  lati- 
tude) promised  repentance  to  a  sinner."  To  speak  here 
more  distinctly, 

X.  Ever  since  the  apostacy,  even  upon  the  first  declared 
constitution  of  a  Redeemer,  and  in  the  shining  forth  of 
that  first  cheering  ray  of  gospel  light  and  grace,  "  the  seed 
of  the  woman  shall  break  the  serpent's  head  ;"  a  promise 
was  implied  of  the  communication  of  the  Spirit;  that 
curse,  which  made  the  nature  of  man,  as  the  accursed 
ground,  improductive  of  any  thing  but  briers  and  thorns  ; 
and  whereby  all  holy,  vital  influences  were  shut  up  from 
men,  as  in  an  enclosed,  sealed  fountain,  being  now  so  far 
reversed,  for  the  Redeemer's  sake,  as  that  all  communi- 
cation of  the  Spirit  should  no  longer  remain  impossible. 
And  hereupoiL,  some  communication  of  it,  in  such  a  de- 
gree, as  might  infer  some  previous  dispositions  and  ten- 
dencies to  holy  life,  seems  to  have  been  general ;  (and  is 
therefore  fitly  enough  wont  to  be  called  common  grace :) 
but  then,  in  that  lower  degree,  it  is  not  only  resistible, 
but  too  generally  resisted  with  mortal  eflicacy;  so  as  that 
it  builds  no  living  temples ;  but  retiring,  leaves  men  under 
the  most  uncomfortable  and  hopeless  (but  chosen)  shades 
of  death. 

When  it  was  said  concerning  the  old  world  before  the 
flood,  "  My  Spirit  shall  not  always  strive  with  man,"  it  is 
implied,  it  had  been  constantly  and  generally  striving, 
until  then ;  but  that  it  was  now  time,  by  the  holy,  wise, 
and  righteous  judgment  of  Heaven,  to  surcease,  and  give 
them  over  to  the  destruction  which  ensued.  Which  text, 
'lis  true,  some  interpret  otherwise;  but  if  we  will  allow 
that  of  the  1  Pet.  iii.  18,  19,  20,  to  mean  that,  while  Noah, 
that  preacher  of  righteousness,  did  it  externall)',  Christ 
was,  by  his  Spirit,  inwardly  preaching  to  that  generation, 
who  were  now  since  in  the  infernal  prison ;  not  while  they 
were  so,  (which  the  text  says  not,)  but  in  their  former  days 
of  disobedience  on  earth  ;  this  place  will  then  much  agree 
with  the  sense,  wherein  we  (with  the  generality  of  our 
interpreters)  take  the  other.  Nor  are  we  therefore  to  think 
there  is  no  stated  rule  at  all,  in  reference  to  this  case  of 
God's  more  general  (but  less  eflicacious)  striving  with 
men,  by  his  Spirit.  For  we  here  see,  that  before  God  took 
any  people  to  be  peculiar  to  him,  from  the  rest  of  men,  the 
reason  which  he  gives,  why  his  Spirit  should  not  always 
strive  with  man,  in  common  (after  an  intimation  of  his 
contemptible  meanness,  and  his  own  indulgence  towards 
him  notwithstanding,  and  instance  given  of  his  abounding 
wickedness  in  those  da)''s)  was,  because-all  "  the  imagina- 
tions of  the  thoughts  of  his  heart  were  only  evil  continu- 
ally ;"  (Gen.  vi.  3,  4,  5.)  i.  c.  that  in  opposition  to  the  dic- 
tates of  the  blessed  Spirit,  he  gave  himself  up  to  the 
power  and  government  of  sensual  inclination,  his  mind, 
or  thinkmg,  considering  power  and  faculty,  falling  in  with 
the  imaginations  of  sense,  and  taking  part  therewith, 
against  the  Spirit  of  God ;  which  imported  nothing  less 
than  a  continual  rebelling  against  that  Holy  Spirit.  Now 
if  we  consider  thi.s,  as  the  declared  reason,  why  God's 
Spirit  should  not  always  strive,  and  compare  therewith 
other  passages  of  Scripture;  we  may  collect  and  perceive, 
there  is  some  rule  of  God's  proceeding,  in  this  matter,  not 
only  settled  in  heaven,  but  sufficiently  notified  on  earth 
also:  i.  e.  concerning  the  extent,  not  concerning  the  limi- 
tation, of  this  gift ;  how  far  God  would  certainly  go,  in 
afibrding  it,  not  how  far  he  would  not  go.  As  far  as  it  is 
sought,  complied  with,  and  improved ;  not  how  far  he 
would  not,  in  some  instances,  proceed  beyond  that.  He  hath 
bound  us  to  pray,  strive,  endeavour,  but  not  tied  his  own 
hands  from  doing  surprising  acts  of  favour,  above  and 
beyond  his  promise. 

'Tis  plain,  man  had  b^^  his  apostacy^  cut  off  all  inter- 
course between  God  and  him;  not  only  was  become  re- 
gardless of  it,  but  disentitled.  It  was  his  inclination  not 
to  converse  with  God  ;  it  was  his  doom  that  he  should 
not.  We  have  but  short  and  dark  hints  of  God's  first 
Iran.sactions  with  men,  but  what  was  written  and  done 


afterwards,  much  enlightens  and  explains  them.  There 
was,  no  doubt,  a  much  more  comprehensive  and  substan- 
tial law,  or  rule  of  duty  given  to  Adam,  than  that  positive 
statute,  "Of  the  tree  of  knowledge  of  good  and  evil,  thou 
shalt  not  eat ;"  that  was  fundamental  to  it,  and  trans- 
gressed in  the  violation  of  it,  and  therefore  some  way  im- 
plied in  it  ;  and  if  all  that  ?H</re  were  only  given  by  internal, 
mental  impression,  or  was  only  to  be  collected  from  the 
thorough  consideration  of  God's  nature  and  his  own,  and 
of  the  state  of  things  between  God  and  him;  that  must 
have  been  as  intelligible  to  Iiis  yet  undepraved  mi^id,  as 
written  tables  or  volumes.  There  must  also,  accordingly, 
be  much  more  implied  in  the  subjoined  enforcing  sanction, 
or  rule  of  punishment,  "  In  the  day  thou  eatest  thereof, 
thou  shall  die  tlie  death;"  than  the  vulgar  apprehension  of 
dying  comes  to ;  for  these  were  t'he  words  of  the  commi- 
nation  or  cur.se  upon  man,  if  he  should  tranf^gress.  And 
are  we  not  plainly  fold,  (Gal.  iii.  13,  14.)  "  Chri.st  hath 
i-edeemed  us  from  that  curse — that  this  blessing  might 
come  upon  us,  that  we  might  receive — the  Spirit  T'  There- 
fore, this  curse  did  shut  up  the  Spirit  from  us ;  and  tliis 
death  must  sigTiift'a  suspension  of  all  viial,  holy  influence, 
a  continual  languishment  under  the  stupifying  power  of  a 
carnal  mind,  which  (Rom.  viii.  6.)  we  are  expressly  told  is 
death.  And  when  that  first  evangelical  promise  was  co- 
laterally  and  implicitly  given,  wrapt  up  in  the  threaten- 
ing to  the  serpent,  That  the  woman's  seed  should  break 
his  head ;  it  could  mean  no  less,  than  that  he,  that  should 
aflei-wards,  in  the  fulnessof  time,  become  her  seed,  andlue 
born  of  a  woman,  should  redeem  us  from  under  that  curse, 
and  turn  it,  in  all  the  consequent  horrors  of  it,  upon  him- 
self It  was  therefore  further  plain  also,  that  no  breath  of 
holy  divine  influence  was  ever  more  to  touch  the  spiiit  of 
man,  had  it  not  been  for  the  Redeemer's  interposition,  and 
undertaking. 

But  he  having  interposed,  undertaken,  and  performed, 
as  he  hath ;  what  is  the  effect  of  it  7  What !  that  the 
Spirit  should  now  go  forthwith  irresistible  almighty  power 
to  convert  all  the  world?  That,  the  event  too  plainly 
shows,  was  not  the  design.  Or  that  it  should  immediat/ely 
supply  men  with  sufficient  grace  and  pcrv\-er  to  conAert 
themselves  1  That,  no  scripture  speaks,  and  it  were  strange, 
if  such  sufficient  grace  were  actually  given  to  all,  it  should 
prove  effectual  with  so  very"  few.  But  the  manifest  efl'ect 
is,  that  the  Spirit  may  now  go  forth,  (the  justice,  and  male- 
diction of  the  law  not  reclaiming  against  it,)  and  make 
gentle  trials  upon  the  spirits  of  men,  inject  some  beams  of 
light,  and  some  good  thoughts,  with  which  if  they  comply, 
they  have  no  cause  to  despair  of  more;  and  so,  that  which 
is  wont  to  be  called  common  grace,  may  gradually  lead 
and  tend  to  that  of  a  higher  kind,  which  is  special,  and 
finally  saving.  That  light,  and  those  motions,  which  h-ave 
only  this  tendency,  must  be  ascribed  to  the  Spirit  of  God, 
co-operating  with  men's  natural  faculties;  and  not  to  tlieir 
own  unassisted,  natural  power  alcxie ;  for  we  are  not 
suflicient  of  ourselves  to  think  one  right  thought.  And 
now  if  they  rebel  against  such  light  and  motions  Aiolently 
opposing  their  sensual  imaginations  and  desires,  to  tlicir 
light,  and  the  secret  promptings  of  God's  Holy  Spirit; 
they  hereby  vex  his  Spirit,  provoke  him  to  leave  ih<?m, 
and  do  forfeit  even  those  assistances  they  have  had,  and 
might  further  have  expected,  upon  the  Redeemer's  ac- 
count. All  which  seems  to  be  summed  up,  as  a  stated 
rule,  in  that  of  our  Saviour — "  To  him  that  hath  shall  be 
given ;  but  from  him  that  hath  not"  (where  having  mani- 
festly includes  use  and  improvement)  "  shall  be  takcia 
away  that  which  he  had."  Which  latter  words  must  be 
taken  not  for  a  prediction,  expressive  of  the  certain  event, 
or  what  shall  be  ;  but  a  commination,  expressing  what  is 
deserved,  or  most  justly  may  be.  The  true  meaning  or 
design  of  a  commination,  being,  that  it  may  never  he  exe- 
cuted. And  to  the  same  sense  is  that  of  Prov.  i.  23,  24, 
&c.  "  Turn  at  my  reproof— I  will  pour  out  my  Spiri, 
unto  you,  I  will  make  known  my  woixis  imto  you-.  Lmi  1 
called,  and  they  refused  ;  I  stretched  out  my  hand, and  no 
man  regarded  ;  therefore  they  shall  eat  the  fruit  of  their 
own  wav."  &.c.  v.  31. 

XI.  So  far  then  we  are  not  without  a  stated  rule,  as  to 
those  previous  and  superable  operations  of  the  Spirit  of 


106 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  fl 


God ;  according  whereto  we  may  expecl  them  to  be  con- 
tinued and  increased,  or  fear  they  shall  be  withheld.  But 
now,  because  all  do  more  or  less  resist,  and  thereby  de- 
serve they  should  cease,  or  commit  a  forfeiture  of  them: 
and  sometimes  this  forfeiture  is  taken,  sometimes  it  is  not ; 
but  the  grieved  Spirit  returns  and  re-enforces  his  holy  mo- 
tions, even  unto  victory ;  where  or  when  he  shall  do  so, 
we  have  no  certain  published  rule,  whereby  to  conclude 
this  way,  or  that.  The  Son  of  God  (by  consent  with  the 
Father)  here  acts  as  a  Plenipotentiary,  and  Sovereign, 
quickening  whom  he  will.  The  Spirit  (by  consent  with 
him)  breathes,  in  order  to  the  vital  production  of  temples, 
as  the  wind — where  it  listeth;  or  for  regeneration,  which 
is  the  thing  there  discoursed  of  in  all  that  context,  and  even 
in  the  next  following  words,  which  apply  that  similitude  ; 
"so  is  every  one  that  is  born  of  the  Spirit,"  John  iii.  8. 
And  we  are  therefore,  elsewhere,  warned  to  "work  out 
our  salvation  with  fear  and  trembling,"  (Phil.  ii.  12,  13.) 
because  God  worketh  in  us,  to  will,  and  to  do,  of  his  own 
good  pleasure  ;  being  under  no  tie,  not  quite  to  desist,  and 
forsake  us,  at  the  next  opposition  he  meets  with.  At  least, 
they  that  are  not  within  the  compass  of  his  covenant  (once 
sincerely  entered)  can  lay  no  claim,  in  such  a  case,  to  his 
continuance,  or  return. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

The  sixth  head  proposed  before,  now  insisted  on.  Tliat  for  the  puipose  of 
inhabiting  this  temple,  already  formed,  the  Spirit  is  |i\en  by  the  Emmanuel, 
as  a  tnistee.  The  Oeconomus.  ox  chief  Steward  ot  God's  household.  And 
by  a  certain  known  rule.  Giving  them,  that  are  to  parlake  therein,  the  ground 
of  a  rife'htful  claim  unto  tliis  great  and  most  comprehensive  gift.  Whereupon 
to  be  considered,  The  dueness,  amplitude,  or  comprehensiveness  thereof 
(1.)  The  dueness  of  it.  l.  By  promise.  2.  By  this  promise,  its  having  the 
ibnri  of  a  covenant,  restipulated  on  their  part.  3.  From  their  state  of  son- 
sliip,  as  regenerate.  Adopted.  4,  From  their  being  to  receive  it  by  fuitli. 
(2.)  Its  ample  extent,  measured  by  the  covenant,  considered  partly  in  actu 
signato.  In  actu  exercito.  Infers  reconciliation,  relation.  The  sunmiary 
of  the  covenant  refers  to  it    The  conclusion. 

I.  For  the  other  purpose  of  inhabiting  this  temple, 
M'hen  by  regeneration  it  is  thus  built  and  prepared,  the 
Redeemer  gives  the  Spirit  upon  other  terms,  viz.  according 
to  the  tenure  of  a  certain  rule  declared  and  published  to 
the  world,  and  whereby  a  right  thereto  accrues  unto  these 
regenerate  ones.  The  unregenerate  world,  especially 
such  as  by  frequent  resistances  had  often  forfeited  all 
gracious  communications  of  that  blessed  Spirit,  have  no- 
thing to  assure  them  he  will  ever  regenerate  them.  But, 
being  now  regenerate,  and  thereby  formed  into  living 
temples,  they  may,  upon  known  and  certain  terms,  expect 
him  to  inhaiait  them  as  such,  and  to  be  statedly  their  Em- 
manuel ;  and  that  as  God,  even  their  own  God,  (Psal. 
Ixvii.)  he  will  bless  ihem,  and  abide  with  them,  and  in 
them,  for  that  gracious  purpose.  Why  else  hath  he  con- 
quered all  their  reluctancy,  and  made  them  his  temples'? 
It  was  against  their  (former)  will,  but  according  to  his  own. 
He  at  first  herein,  by  rough  he  wings,  might  displease  them, 
but  he  pleased  himself,  and  fulfilled,  hereby,  "  the  good 
pleasure  of  his  own  goodness,"  2  Thess.  i.  11.  Nor  will 
now  leave  his  people,  because  it  pleased  him  to  make  them 
his  people,  1  Sam.  xii.  Neither  is  he  now  the  less  pleased 
that  he  is  under  bonds,  for  he  put  himself  imder  them, 
most  freelv,  and  his  "sifts  and  callings  are  without  re- 
pentance," Rom.  xi.  But  being  under  bonds,  he  now  puts 
on  a  distinct  capacity,  and  treats  these  his  regenerate  ones 
under  a  different  notion  from  that  under  which  he  acted 
towards  other  men,  or  themselves  before;  not  as  an  abso- 
lute, unobliged  Sovereign,  that  might  do  or  not  do  for 
them  as  he  would  ;  but  as  a  trustee,  managing  a  trust 
committed  to  him  by  the  Eternal  Father ;  as  the  Oeconomus^ 
the  great  Stemard  of  his  family  ;  the  prime  Minister,  and 
Curator  of  all  the  affairs  of  his  house  and  temple,  which 
they  are,  (1  Cor.  iii.  17.)  all  and  every  one.  »  For  as  vast 
as  this  temple  is,  where  it  is  made  up  of  all ;  and  as  mani- 
fold as  it  is,  when  every  one  is  to  him  a  single  temple; 
neither  is  above  the  comprehension,  nor  beneath  the  con- 
descension, of  his  large  and  humble  mind.    Neither  larger 

a  Ilnjus  enim  Templum,  simul  omnes,  et  singuli,  Templa  sumus.— Om- 
nium Concordiam,  et  s>nfiulo8  inhabitaro  dignatur,  non  in  omnibus,  quam 


diffusion,  nor  more  particular  distribution,  signifying  him 
to  be  greater  or  less,  in  ail,  in  every  one. 

He  so  takes  care  of  all  as  of  every  one,  and  of  evei7 
one  as  if  he  were  the  only  one  under  his  care.  Id.  He  is 
the  first-born  among  many  brethren ;  and  as  that  imports 
dignity,  so  it  doth  employment ;  it  being  his  part  as  such 
to  provide  for  the  good  state  of  the  family :  which  is  all 
named  from  him,  both  that  part  in  heaven,  and  that  on 
earth,  Eph.  iii.  15.  Yea,  and  he  may  in  a  true  sense  be 
styled  the  Pater- familids,  the  Fatker  of  the  family  :  though 
to  \\\&  first  in  Godhead  he  is  the  Son,  to  us  he  is  styled  the 
everlasting  Father,  Isa.  ix.  6.  Therefore  he  is  under  obli- 
gation hereto,  by  his  Father's  appointment,  and  his  own 
undertaking. 

And  that  which  he  hath  obliged  himself  to,  is  to  give 
the  Holy  Spirit,  or  take  continual  care  that  it  be  commu- 
nicated from  time  to  time,  as  particular  exigencies  and 
occasions  shall  require.  It  was  a  thing  full  of  wonder, 
that  ever  he  should  be  so  far  concerned  in  our  affairs !  But 
being  concerned  so  deeply  as  we  know  he  hath  been ;  to 
be  incarnate  for  us ;  to  be  made  a  sacrifice  to  God  for  us, 
that  he  might  have  it  in  his  power  to  give  the  Spirit,  having 
become  a  curse  for  us,  that  he  might  be  capable  of  con- 
ferring upon  us  this  blessing;  'tis  now  no  wonder  he 
should  oblige  himself  to  a  continual  constant  care  that  his 
own  great  and  kind  design  should  now  not  be  lost  or 
miscarry.  After  he  had  engaged  himself  so  deeply  in 
this  design  for  his  redeemed,  could  he  decline  further  obli- 
gation ? 

And  his  obligation  creates  their  right,  entitles  them  to 
this  mighty  gift  of  his  own  Spirit ;  concerning  which  we 
shall  consider — The  dueness,  and  the  greatness,  or  ampli- 
tude, of  this  Gift :  or  show,  that,  as  their  case  is  now  stated, 
upon  their  regeneration,  they  have  a  pleadable  right  to  this 
high  privilege,  the  continued  communication  of  the  Spirit. 
And  next  show,  of  how  large  extent  this  privilege  is,  and 
how  great  things  are  contained  in  it.  I  scruple  not  to  call 
it  a  Gift,  and  yet  at  the  same  time  to  assert  their  right  to 
it,  to  whom  it  is  given ;  not  doubting  but  every  one  will 
see,  a  right  accruing  by  free-promise  (as  we  shall  show 
this  doth)  detracts  nothing  from  the  freeness  of  the  gift. 
When  the  promise  only,  with  what  we  shall  see  is  directly 
consequent,  produces  or  creates  this  right,  it  is  unconceiv- 
able that  this  creature,  by  resulting  naturally,  should  injure 
its  own  parent  or  productive  cause.  We  shall  therefore 
say  somewhat  briefly, 

II.  1.  Of  the  dueness  of  this  continued  indwelling  pre- 
sence of  the  blessed  Spirit  to  the  regenerate:  (intending 
to  speak  more  largely  of  the  amplitude  and  extensiveness 
of  it,  on  the  account  afterwards  to  be  given  :)  And, 

(1.)  It  is  due  (as  hath  been  intimated)  by  promise.  It 
is  expressly  said  lo  be  the  promise  of  the  Spirit,  Gal.  iii. 
14.  But  to  whoml  To  the  regenerate,  to  them  who  are 
born  after  the  Spirit,  as  may  be  seen  at  large,  chap.  iv. 
These  (as  it  after  follows)  are  the  children  and  heirs  of  the 
promise,  which  must  principally  mean  this  promise,  as  it 
is  eminently  called.  Acts  ii.  38.  "Repent,"  (which  con- 
notes regeneration,)  "and  ye  shall  receive  the  Holy  Ghost; 
for  the  promise  is  to  you,  &c.  and  lo  as  many  as  the  Lord 
shall  call :"  which  calling,  when  effectual,  includes  re- 
generation. When  (Eph.  i.  13.)  this  blessed  Spirit  is 
called  the  Spirit  of  promise,  what  can  that  mean  but  the 
promised  Spirit  1 

(2.)  Their  right  is  the  more  evident ;  and  what  is  pro- 
mised the  more  apparently  due,  in  that  the  promise  hath 
received  the  form  of  a  covenant,  whereby  the  covenanters 
have  a  more  strongly  pleadable  right  and  claim ;  to  which 
the  rest  of  men  have  no  such  pretence. 

It  is  true  that  we  must  distinguish  of  the  covenant, — as 
proposed,  and  entered. 

The  proposal  of  it  is  in  very  general  terms,  "  Ho,  every 
one  that  thirsts" — Isa.  Iv.  1.  "  Incline  your  ear — and  I  will 
make  an  everlasting  covenant  with  you" — v.  3.  And  so  it 
gives  a  remotCj  future  right  to  such" as  shall  enter  into  it. 
But  only  they  have  a  present  actual  right  to  what  it  con- 
tains, that  have  entered  into  it :  and  their  plea  is  strong, 
having  this  to  say;  "  I  have  not  only  an  indefinite,  or  le.is 
determinate,  promise  to  rely  upon ;  but  a  promise  upon 

in  singulis  major.  Quoniam  nee  mole  diateiiditur,  nee  partitiooe  minuitur. 
Aug.  de  Civ.  Dei,  lib.  18.  cap.  45. 


Chap.  XI. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


107 


terms  expressed,  which  I  have  agreed  to ;  and  there  is 
now  a  mutual  stipulation  between  God  and  me :  He 
offered  himself,  and  demanded  me;  I  have  accepted  him, 
and  given  myself.  And  hereupon  I  humbly  expect  and 
claim  all  further  needful  communications  of  his  Spirit,  as 
the  principal  promised  blessings  of  this  covenant."  Such  a 
one  may  therefore  say,  as  the  Psalmist  hath  taught  him. 
Remember  thy  word  to  thy  servant,  in  which  thou  hast 
caused  me  to  hope,  Psal.  cxix.  49.  I  had  never  looked 
for  such  quickening  influences,  if  thou  hadst  not  caused 
me,  and  been  the  Author  to  me  of  such  an  expectation. 
Now  as  thou  hast  quickened  me  by  thy  word,  v.  50.  so 
quickening  me  according  to  thy  word.  "  I  wiU  put  my 
Spirit  within  you,"  is  a  principal  article  of  this  covenant, 
Ezek.  xxxvi.  27.  And  this  expression  of  putting  the 
Spirit  within,  must  signify  not  a  light  touch  upon  the  soul 
of  a  man,  but  to  settle  it  as  an  the  innermost  centre  of  the 
soul,  in  order  to  a  fixed  abode. 

And  how  sacred  is  the  bond  of  this  covenant!  it  is 
founded  in  the  blood  of  the  Mediator  of  it.  This  is,  as 
he  himself  speaks,  the  new  testament  (or  covenant)  in  my 
blood,  Luke  xxii.  20.  Therefore  is  this,  in  a  varied  phrase, 
said  to  be  the  "blood  of  the  covenant;"  and  therefore  is 
this  covenant  said  to  be  everlasting,  Heb.  xiii.  20.  referring 
to  a  known  maxim  among  the  Hebrews:  Pacts,  confirmed 
by  blood,  (^sanguine  saucita,)  can  never  be  abolished.  "  The 
God  of  peace — by  the  blood  of  the  everlasting  covenant, 
make  you  perfect  in  every  good  work;"  which  must  im- 
ply a  continual  communication  of  the  Spirit-  for  it  is 
also  added,  to  do  always  what  is  well-pleasing  in  his  sight ; 
which,  who  can  do  without  iuch  continual  aids 2  "Coming 
to  Jesus  the  Mediator  of  the  new  covenant,  we  come  to 
the  blood  of  sprinkling,"  Heb.  xii.  24.  He  could  not 
mediate  for  us  upon  other  terms;  and  upon  those,  obtains 
for  us  the  better  promises,  "  spiritual  blessings  in  heavenly 
things,"  Eph.  i.  3. 

And  further,  this  covenant  is  ratified  by  his  oath  who 
formed  and  made  it.  "My  covenant  will  I  not  break — 
Once  have  I  sworn,"  Ps.  Ixxxix.  34,  35.  By  these  two 
immutable  things,  (even  to  our  apprehension,)  'tis  impos- 
sible for  God  to  lie,  Heb.  vi.  17,  18.  Regeneration  is  the 
Duilding  of  this  temple ;  covenanting  on  our  part  contains 
the  dedication  of  it ;  and  what  then  can  follow  btit  con- 
stant possession  and  use  1 

(3.)  The  regenerate,  as  such,  are  sons,bofh  by  receiving 
a  new  nature,  even  a  divine,  2  Pet.  i.  4.  in  their  regenera- 
tion; and  a  new  title,  in  (what  is  always  conjunct)  their 
adoption.  Now,  hereupon  the  continual  supplies  of  the 
Spirit  in  this  house  (or  temple')  of  his  are  the  children's 
bread,  Luke  xi.  13.  Because  tney  are  sons,  therefore  God 
sends  the  Spirit  of  his  Son  into  their  hearts.  Gal.  iv.  G. 
and  he  is  styled  the  Spirit  of  adoption,  Rom.  viii.  14,  15. 
Therefore  have  a  right  to  the  provisions  of  their  Father's 
house. 

(4.)  The  Spirit  is  given  unto  these  children  of  God  upon 
their  faith ;  which  must  certainlj'  suppose  their  previous 
title  for  the  ground  of  it.  They  receive  "  the  promise  of 
the  Spirit  by  faith,"  (Gal.  iii.  14.)  as  by  faith  they  are 
God's  children,  v.  26.  Receiving  the  Son,  who  was  emi- 
nentlj'  so,  and  to  whom  the  sonship  did  primarily  or  origi- 
nally belong;  and  believing  in  his  name,  they  thereupon 
have  ^ power  or  right  to  become  the  sons  of  God,  John  i. 
12.  being  herein  also  regenerate,  born  not  of  flesh  and 
blood, — but  of  God.  And  thus,  by  faith  receiving  him, 
by  faith  they  retain  him,  or  have  him  abiding  in  them,  as 
he  abides  in  them:  for  the  union  is  intimate  and  mutual, 
John  XV.  5.  They  first  receive  him  upon  the  gospel  offer, 
which,  as  was  said,  gave  them  a  remote  right,  and  now  re- 
tain him,  as  having  an  actual  right.  He  dwells  in  the 
heart  by  faith,  Eph.  iii.  17.  But  what  he  doth,  in  this 
respect,  his  Spirit  doth ;  so  he  explains  himself,  when,  in 
those  valedictory  chapters  of  St.  John's  gospel,  xiv.  xv. 
jcvi.  he  promises  his  disconsolate  disciples,  he  would  come 
to  them,  he  would  see  them,  he  would  manifest  himself 
to  them,  he  would  abide  with  them,  within  a  little  while 
they  should  see  him,  &c.  intimates  to  them,  that  heprinci- 

Eally  meant  all  this  of  a  presence  to  be  vouchsafed  them  by 
is  Spirit,  cL  xiv.  v,  16,  17,  18,  19.     And  he  concerns  the 

b  e^ov(Ttav. 


Father  also  with  himself  in  the  same  .sort  of  commerce; 
(v.  20.)  "  At  that  day  ye  shall  know  that  I  am  in  my  Fa- 
ther, and  you  in  me,  and  1  in  you^"  as  also  v.  21,  and  23. 
Thus  in  another  place,  we  find  the  Spirit  promiscuously 
spoken  of  as  the  Spirit  of  God,  and  the  Spirit  of  Christy 
and  the  inbeingor  indwelling  of  Christ,  and  of  the  Spirit, 
used  as  expressions  signifying  the  same  thing;  when  also 
the  operation  of  God  is  spoken  of  by  the  same  indwelling 
Spirit,  Rom.  viii.  9,10,  11.  Which  an  eminent  father 
observing,  intakes  occasion  to  speak  of  the  joint  presence 
of  the  several  persons  of  the  Trinity,  with  such  with  whom 
any  one  is  present,  because  each  bears  itself  inseparably 
towards  the  other,  and  is  unite/I  most  intimately  therewith, 
v-ker€Soever  one  hypostasis  (or  peisons,  as  by  the  Latins  we 
are  taught  to  s]pea\<)  is  present,  there  tke  v:hole  Trinily  is 
present — Amazing  thing!  that  the  glorious  Suljsistents  in 
the  eternal  Godhead,  should  so  concentre  in  kind  design, 
influence,  and  operation  towards  a  despicable  impure 
worm ! 

But  this  conjunction  infers  no  confusion;  breaks  not 
the  order,  wherein  each  severally  acts  towards  one  end. 
But  that,  notwithstanding,  we  may  conceive  from  whom, 
through  whom,  and  by  whom,  what  was  lately  a  ruinous 
heap  is  become  an  animated  temple,  inhabited  by  the  Di- 
vine presence,  wherein  we  ought  not  to  forget,  how  emi- 
nent and  conspicuous  the  part  is  of  our  Lord  Christ,  and 
upon  how  costly  terms  he  obtained,  that  the  blessed  Spirit 
should  so  statedly,  and  upon  a  right  claimable  by  faith, 
employ  his  mighty  agency  in  this  most  gracious  and  won- 
derful undertaking!  being  (as  hath  been  observed)  made 
a  curse  for  us,  that  we  might  receive  the  promise  of  the 
Spirit  by  faith,  Gal.  iii.  13,  14.  Whence  also  it  is  said, 
that  after  our  believing  we  are  sealed  with  the  Spirit  of 
promise  ;  (Eph.  i.  13.)  i.  e.  by  that  seal,  by  which  God 
knows,  or  owns,  or  acknowledges,  them  that  are  hi-s,  (2  Tim. 
ii.  19.)  though  they  maj-  not  alwa3's  know  it  themselves. 
Hereupon  also  our  Lord  hath  assured  us,  from  them  that 
believe  in  him,  shall  flow  (as  out  of  the  belly  of  a  conduit) 
rivers  of  livmg  water,  -which  it  is  said  he  spoke  of  the 
Spirit,  which  they  that  believed  should  receive,  John 
vii.  37. 

Much  more  might  be  alleged  from  many  texts  of  the 
Old  and  New  Testament  to  evince  the  right  which  believ- 
ers, or  they  who  are  God's  more  peculiar  people,  have  to 
the  abiding  indwelling  presence  of  his  Spirit,  as  the  inha- 
bitant of  that  temple  which  they  are  now  become. 

III.  But  that  matter  being  plain,  we  shall  proceed  to 
what  was  next  proposed  ;  to  show, 

(2.)  The  ample  extent  and  comprehensiveness  of  this 
privilege,  which  I  shall  the  rather  enlarge  upon,  that  from 
thence  we  may  have  the  clearer  ground  upon  which  after- 
wards to  argue; — how  highly  reasonable  and  congruous 
was  it,  that  so  great  a  thing,  and  of  so  manifest  importance 
to  God's  having  a  temple  and  residence  among  men,  should 
not  be  otherwise  communicated  than  in  and  b)-  Emman- 
uel, the  Founder  and  Restorer  of  this  temple. 

And  we  cannot  have  a  truer  or  surer  measure  of  the 
amplitude  and  extensiveness  of  this  gift,  than  the  extent 
and  comprehensiveness  of  the  covenant  itsell",  to  which  it 
belongs.  To  which  purpose,  let  it  be  considered  that  this 
covenant  of  God  inChiist,of  which  we  are  now  speaking, 
may  be  looked  upon  two  ways ;  i.  e. 

We  may  view  it  abstractedly,  taking  the  frame  and  mode) 
of  it,  as  it  were  in  adu  signato,  to  be  collected  -and  ga- 
tliered  out  of  the  Holy  Scriptures.  Or  we  may  look  irpou 
it  as  in  adu  cxercito,  viz.  as  it  is  noir  transacted  and  en- 
tered into  by  the  blessed  God,  and  this  or  that  awakened, 
considering,  predisptised  soul.     Now  here, 

1.  Take  it  the  former  way,  vj\A  you  find  this  article, 
concerning  the  gift  or  communication  of  the  Holy  Ghost ; 
standing  there  as  one  great  grant  contained  in  the  gospel- 
covenant.  And  it  is  obvious  to  observe,  as  it  is  placed 
there,  what  aspect  it  hath  upon  both  the  parts  of  the  cove- 
nant, I  will  be  your  God — )-ou  shall  be  im  People, 
Which  will  be  seen,  if, 

2.  You  consider  this  covenant  as  actually  ejiicred  into, 
or  as  the  covenanting  parties  are  treating,  the  one  lo  draw, 
the  other  to  enter,  this  covenant.  And  so  we  shall  see  that 

c  Oifoii  yap  Tl  fta  T""??  rptaSos  viros-aais  TOf ij  waoa  xapc^iv  n  rpiat, 
Chmt.  in  Cpiit.  ad  Roman. 


108 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  II. 


cnr  consent,  both  that  God  shall  be  our  God,  and  that  we 
will  be  his  people,  with  all  previous  inclinations  thereto, 
and  what  immediately  results  from  our  covenanting,  do 
all  depend  upon  this  communication  of  the  Spirit ;  and 
otherwise,  neither  can  he  do  the  part  of  a  God  to  us,  nor 
we,  the  part  that  belongs  to  his  people  towards  him.  By 
all  which  we  shall  see  the  va,st  extent  of  the  gift.  It  is 
the  Mediator's  part  to  bring  the  covenanting  parties  toge- 
ther. He  is  therefore  said  to  be  the  Mediator  of  the  new 
covenant,  Heb.  xii.  24.  He  rendered  it  possible,  by  the 
merit  of  his  blood,  that  the  offended  Majesty  of  heaven 
might,  without  injury  to  himself,  consent ;  and  that  the 
Spirit  might  be  given  to  procure  our  consent,  which,  as 
Mediator  or  Emmanuel,  he  gives.  When  he  gives  it  in  so 
copious  an  effusion,  as  to  be  victorious,  to  conquer  our 
aversion,  and  make  us  cease  to  be  rebellious,  then  he  en- 
ters to  dwell,  Ps.  Ixviii.  18.  Till  then,  there  is  no  actual 
covenanting ;  no  plenary  consent  on  our  part  to  what  is 
proposed  in  the  covenant,  in  either  respect:  we  neither 
agree  that  God  shall  be  our  God,  nor  that  we  will  be  of 
his  people.  This  speaks  this  gift  a  great  thing  and  of  vast 
extent,  looking  for  the  present  upon  the  two  parts  of  the 
covenant  summarily;  and  afterwards  considering  what 
each  part  more  particularly  contains  in  it.  But  if  in  prac- 
tice it  be  so  far  done  as  is  reguisite  to  a  judicious  and 
preponderating  determination  of  will,  (which  may  yet 
afterwards  admit  of  higher  degrees,)  how  great  a  thing  is 
now  done  !  Their  state  is  distinguished  from  theirs  Who 
are  strangers  to  the  covenant,  who  are  without  Christ,  and 
without  God  in  the  world.     From  hence  results, 

1.  An  express  reconciliation  between  God  and  thee; 
for  this  is  a  league  of  friendship,  enmity  ceasing. 

2.  A  fixed  special  relation :  (Ezek.  xvi.  8.)  "  I  entered 
into  covenant  with  thee,  saith  the  Lord  God,  and  thou  be- 
camest  mine."  How  great  and  high  a  privilege !  Relations 
are  said  to  be  of  minute  entity,  but  great  efficacy.  All  the 
Divine  Being  related  to  me  a  worm ! 

IV.  And  that  all  this  may  be  the  plainer,  let  us 
but  consider,  more  distinctly,  what  the  great  summary 
of  God's  part  of  this  covenant  contains;  what  is  the  most 
principal  promise  of  it;  the  dependence  of  our  part  there- 
on ;  upon  what  terms  that  which  is  distinct  is  promised  ; 
how  far  what  is  distinctly  promised,  is  coincident  with 
this  gift  of  the  indwelling  S])irit,  both  in  respect  of  this 
present,  and  the  future  eternal  state. 

1.  The  known  and  usual  summary  of  this  covenant,  on 
God's  part,  is,  "  I  will  be  their  God;"  as  it  is  set  douTi 
in  many  places  of  both  Testaments.  Now,  what  can  be 
meant,  more  principally,  by  his  being  their  God,  than  giv- 
ing ihem  his  indwelling  Spirit  1  Wherein  without  it  can 
he  do  the  part  of  a  God  to  them"?  By  it  he  both  governs 
and  satisfies  them:  is  both  their  supreme  and  sovereign 
Lord,  in  the  one  regard,  and  their  supreme  and  sovereign 
good,  in  the  other.  Doth  being  their  God  intend  no  more 
than  an  empty  title?  or,  what  would  be  their  so  great 
advantage,  in  having  only  a  nominal  God?  Yea,  and  he 
is  pleased  himself  to  expound  it  of  his  continued  gracious 
presence,  (2  Cor.  vi.  16.)  "I  will  dwell  in  them,  and  walk 
m  them,  and  I  will  be  their  God ;"  alluding  to  his  contin- 
uing his  tabernacle  among  them,  as  is  promised,  Lev. 
xxvi.  11,  12.  "  I  will  set  my  tabernacle  among  you,  and 
my  soul  shall  not  abhor  you;  and  I  will  walk  among 
you,  and  I  will  be  your  God,"  &c.  And  what  did  that 
tabernacle  signify  but  this  living  temple,  whereof  we  speak, 
as  a  certain  type  and  shadow  of  ill  Agreeably  whereto 
his  covenant  is  expressed,  with  evident  reference  to  the 
days  of  the  gospel,  and  the  time  of  the  Messiah's  king- 
dom, (plainly  meant  by  David's  being  their  king  and 
prince  for  ever,)  Ezek.  xxxvii.  24,  25,  26,  27.  "  David, 
my  servant,  shall  be  king  over  them,"  (spoken  many  an 
age  after  he  was  dead  and  gone,) — "  and  their  prince  for 
ever.  Moreover,  I  will  make  a  covenant  of  peace  with  them, 
it  shall  be  an  everlasting  covenant  with  them,  and  I  will 
set  my  sanctuary  in  the  midst  of  them  for  evermore.  My 
tabernacle  also  shall  be  with  them;  yea,  I  will  be  their 
God."  That  yea,  the  exegetical  note,  is  observable,  "my 
sanctuary  and  tabernacle  shall  be  with  them."  (i.  c.  "  I 
wixl  dwell  in  them,"  as  it  is  expounded  before,  2  Cor.  vi. 
d  Templum  Dei  tetlificatum  per  Testamentiun  Novum  lapidibus  vii-is 
eloriosior  quum  illud  quod  a  Rege  Soloraone  coiistmotum  est,  &c  Aue 
do  Civ.  Cei.  1.  18.  c.  4fl.  )  *• 


16.  And  could  it  be  meant  ol'  an  uninhabited,  desolate 
sanctuaiy  or  tabernacle,  that  should  be  with  them  for  ever- 
more ■?)  And  why  is  this  his  constant  inhabiting  presence 
to  be  with  theml  The  emphatical  yea,  with  what  follows, 
informs  us:  Yea,  I  will  be  their  God:  q.  d.  I  have  under- 
taken to  be  their  God,  which  I  cannot  make  good  unto 
them,  if  I  afford  them  not  my  indwelling  presence.  To  be 
to  them  a  distant  God,  a  God  afar  off",  can  neither  answer 
my  covenant,  nor  the  exigency  of  their  ca'se.  They  will 
but  have  a  God,  and  no  God,  if  they  have  not  with  them, 
and  in  them,  a  divine,  vital,  inspiriting,  inactuating  pre- 
sence, to  govern,  quicken,  support,  and  satisfy  them,  and 
fill  them  with  an  all-sufficient  fulness.  They  would  soon, 
otherwise,  be  an  habitation  for  Ziim  and  Ochim,  or  be  the 
temple  but  of  idol  gods. 

It  is  therefore  evident  that  this  summary  of  God's  part 
of  his  covenant,  I  will  be  their  God,  very  principally  in- 
tends his  dwelling  in  them  by  his  Spirit. 

V.  And  the  restipulation,  on  their  part,  to  be  his  people, 
(which  is  generally  added  in  all  the  places,  wherein  the 
other  part  is  expressed,)  signifies  their  faith,  by  which  they 
take  hold  of  his  covenant,  accept  him  to  be  their  God, 
dedicate  themselves  to  be  his  people,  his  peculiar,  his  man- 
sion, his  temple,  wherein  he  may  dwell.  Now  this  their 
self-resigning  faith,  taken  in  its  just  latitude,  carries  with 
it  a  twofold  reference  to  Him,  as  their  sovereign  Lord, 
as  their  sovereign  Good ;  whom,  above  all  other,  they  are 
to  obey  and  enjoy.  But  can  they  obey  him,  if  he  do  not 
put  his  Spirit  into  them,  to  write  his  law  in  their  hearts, 
and  "cause  them  to  walk  in  his  statutes  1"  Ezek.  xxxvi. 
27.  Jer.  li.  35.  Or  can  they  enjoy  him,  if  they  love  him 
not  as  their  best  good  1  which  love  is  the  known  fruit  of 
his  Spirit.  Whereupon,  after  such  self-resignation  and 
dedication,  what  remains,  but  that  "the  house  of  the  Lord 
be  filled  with  the  glory  of  the  Lord?"  as  2Chron.  vii.  2. 

2.  Let  us  consider  what  is  the  express,  more  peculiar 
kind  of  the  promises  of  this  covenant,  in  the  Christian 
contradistinct  to  the  Mosaical  administration  of  it.     It  is 
evident,  in  the  general,  that  the  promises  of  the  gospel 
covenant  are  in  their  nature  and  kind,  compared  with 
those   that  belonged  to  the  Mosaical  dispensation,  more 
spiritual;  therefore  called  better  promises,  Heb.  viii.  6. 
They  are  not  promises  of  secular  felicity,  of  external  pros- 
perity, peace,  and  plenty,  as  those  other   most  expressly 
vfevQ.     It  is  true  indeed  that  the   covenant  with   Israel, 
with  Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob,  and  their  seed,  was  not 
exclusive  of  spiritual  good  things.     For  the  communica- 
tion of  the  Spirit  was  (as  hath  been  noted)  the  blessing  of 
Abraham,  (Gal.  iii.  14.)  and  that,  as  he  was  the  father  of 
that  people,  the   head  of  a  community,  now  lo  he  much 
more  extended,  and  take  in  the  Gentiles  the  time  being 
come,  when  all  nations  were  to  be  blessea  in  him,  which 
is  said  to  be  the  gospel  that  was  preached  to  Abraham, 
Gal.  iii.  8.     But  in  the  mean  time,  the  Spirit  was  given 
less  generally,  and  in  a  much  lower  measure ;  wherefore, 
in  that  purposed  comparison,  2  Cor.  iii.  between  the  legal 
and  the  evangelical  dispensation;  though  a  certain  glory 
did  attend  the  former,  yet  that  glory  is  said  to  be  no  glory, 
in  respect  of  the  so  much  excelling  glory  of  this  latter,  t;. 
10.     And  the  thing  wherein  it  so  highly  excelled,  was  the 
much  more  copious  effiision  of  the  Spirit.  That  whereas, 
under  the  former  dispensation,  Moses  was  read  for  many 
ages,  with  little  efficacy,  a  veil  being  upon  the  people's 
hearts,  signified  by  the  (mystical)  veil  wherewith,  when 
he  conversed  with  them,  he  was  wont  to  cover  his  face; 
that  comparative  inefficacy  proceeding  from  hence,  that 
little  of  the  light,  life,  and  power  of  the  Spirit  accompanied 
that  dispensation:    now,  under  the   gospel  dispensation, 
the  glory  of  the  Lord  wai;  to  be  beheld  as  in  a  glass,  with 
unveiled    face,   so   as  that,  beholding   it,   we   might  be 
changed  (so  great  an  efficacy  and  power  went  with  it) 
into  the  same  likeness,  from  glory  to  glory,  as  by  the 
Spirit  of  the  Lord  ;  which  is  the  scope  of  the  latter  part  of 
that  chapter,  from  v.  10  to  18.  d  How  great  was  the  splen- 
dour and  magnificence  of  Solomon's  temple,  yet  how  much 
more  glorious  is  that  which  is  built  of  living  stones  I  And 
as  the  whole  frame  of  that  former  economy  was  always 
less  spiritual,  a  lower  measure  of  the  Spirit  always  accom- 


Chap.  XI. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


109 


panyingit;  so -when  it  stood  in  competition,  as  corrival 
to  the  Christian  dispensation,  being  hereupon  quite  de- 
serted bv  the  Spirit,  it  is  spoken  of  as  weak,  worldly,  car- 
nal, and"  beggarly,  Gal.  iv.  i).  Col.  ii.  20.  Heb.  ix.  2,  10. 
Therefore  the  apostle  expostulates  with  the  Galatian  Chris- 
tians, verging  towards  Judaism;  "Received  ye  the  Spirit 
by  the  works  of  the  law,  or  by  the  hearing  of  faith  1  Are 
ye  so  foolish,  having  begun  in  the  Spirit,  are  you  now 
made  peifeet  by  ihe  flesh  ?"  Gal.  iii.  2,  3,  and  ch.  iv.  from 
V.  22  to  32.  Speaking  of  the  two  covenants,  under  alle- 
gorical represcntaiion,  he  makes  Ihe  former,  given  upon 
Mount  Sinai,  to  be  signified  by  Agar  the  bondwoman, 
and  by  the  terrestrial  Jei-usalem,  which  was  then  in  bond- 
age, with  her  children,  as  productive  but  of  a  servile  race, 
born  after  the  flesh  only,  as  Ishmael  was,  destitute  of  the 
Divine  Spirit ;  (which  where  it  is,  there  is  liberty,  2  Cor. 
iii.  17.)  the  other  by  Sarah,  a  freexvoman,  and  by  the 
celestial  Jerusalem,  which  is  free,  with  her  children,  all 
born  from  above,  of  the  Divine  Spirit;  (John  iii.  3,  5,  as 
nvyhf  there  signifies;)  which  spiritual  seed,  signified  by 
Isaac,  are  said  at  once  to  be  born  after  the  Spirit,  and  by 
promise,  v.  23,  28,  29.  And  this  can  import  no  less  than, 
that  the  ancient  promise,  (given  long  before  the  law,  upon 
Mount  Sinai,  vi~.  four  hundred  and  thirty  years.  Gal.  iv. 
17,  and  expressly  called  the  covenant  of  Gfod,  in  Christ : 
most  eminently  to  be  made  good  in  the  days  of  the  gospel; 
after  the  cessation  of  the  Mosaical  institution,  as  it  was 
made  before  it,)  must  principally  mean  the  promise  of  the 
Spirit.  Which  is  most  plain  from  that  of  the  apostle  Peter 
to  his  convinced,  heart-wounded  hearers.  Acts  ii.  38,  39. 
"  Repent  and  be  baptized,  every  one  of  you,  in  the  name 
of  Jesus  Christ,  for  the  remission  of  sins,  and  ye  shall 
receive  the  gift  of  the  Holy  Ghost  ;  for  the  promise  is 
unto  you,  and  j'our  children,  and  to  all  that  are  afar  ofl^," 
(this  promise  not  being  to  be  confined  to  them  and  their 
children,  but  to  reach  the  Gentiles  also,  as  Gal.  iii.  14.) 
"  even  as  many  as  the  Lord  our  God  shall  call."  And 
surely  that  which  is,  by  way  of  excellency,  called  the 
promise,  must  be  the  more  principal  promise  of  this  cove- 
nant ;  which  it  is  also  signified  to  be,  in  that  account  given 
of  it  by  the  prophets,  Isa.  xliv.  3.  and  lix.  20,  21.  Jer. 
ixxi.  33.  quoted  Heb.  viii.  10.  (where  though  the  Spirit  be 
not  expressly  named,  yet  those  eflfecls  of  it  are,  which 
manifestly  suppose  it,)  and  Ezek.  xxxvi.  25,  27.  Joel  ii. 
28.  This  new  coveirant  is  distinguished  from  the  former, 
by  the  more  certain,  more  general,  and  more  efficacious 
communication  of  the  Spirit  promised  in  it,  as  is  plainly 
implied,  Jer.  xxxi.  and  (^which  refers  thereto)  Heb.  viii.  9, 
10,  11. 

VI.  3.  It  will  further  tend  to  evidence,  that  the  Spirit 
is  given  as  a  settled  Inhabitant,  upon  the  known  terms  of 
this  covenant :  if  we  consider  upon  what  terms  it  is  pro- 
mised, what  is  distinctly  but  however  most  conjunctly 
promised  therewith,  viz.  all  the  relative  graces  of  justifi- 
cation, pardon  of  sin,  and  adoption.  These  are  promised, 
as  is  apparent,  in  the  same  covenant,  and  upon  laith, 
which  is  our  taking  hold  of  and  entering  into  the  cove- 
nant, our  accepting  God  in  Christ  to  be  our  God,  and  giv- 
ing up  ourselves  to  be  his  people  ;  and  is  (according  to  that 
latitude,  wherein  faith  is  commonly  taken)  inclusive  of 
repentance.  For  a  sinner,  one  before  in  a  state  of  apostacy 
from  God,  cannot  take  him  to  be  his  God,  but  in  so  doing 
he  must  exercise  repentance  to\x  ards  God.  His  very  act 
of  taking  him,  in  Christ,  is  turning  to  him  through  Christ, 
from  the  sin  by  which  he  had  departed  and  apostatized 
from  him  before.  Therefore  must  the  indwelling  Spirit 
be  given,  upon  the  same  certain  and  known  terms  as  is 
also  expressed  in  (the  before-mentioned)  Gal.  iii.  M.  Eph. 
i.  13,  &c.  Acts  ii.  38,  39. 

4.  Now  faith  and  repentance  being  first  given  in  forming 
God's  temple,  consider,  how  coincident  the  gift  of  the 
Spirit,  is  an  Inhabitant,  is  with  remission  of  sin,  or  with 
whatsoever  relative  grace  as  such,  is  distinct  from  that 
which  is  inherent,  subjected  in  the  soul  it.self,  and  really 
transmutative  of  its  subject.  But  we  are  to  consider  with- 
al, how  manifestly  the  latter  of  the.se  is  involved  in  the 
former.  Giving  the  Spirit  (the  root  and  original  of  sub- 
jective grace)  implies  two  things:  1.  Conferring  a  right  to 
it:  2.  Actual  communication,  The  former  belongs  to 
relative  grace,  the  latter  to  real;  (as  they  commonly  dis- 


tinguish :)  but  the  former  is  in  order  to  ihc  latter,  and  the 
lattermost  certainly  follows  upon  the  former.  Both  are 
signified  by  one  name  of  giving  ;  and  do  both,  in  a  sort, 
make  one  entire  legal  act,  (though  there  are  distinct  physi- 
cal ones,)  which  the  former  (usually)  begins,  and  the  latter 
consummates.  Divers  things  are  not  herein  given,  but 
only  a  title  to,  and  the  possession  of,  the  same  thing:  nor 
by  divers  donations;  but  by  the  concurrence  of  such  things 
as  are  requisite  to  make  up  one  and  the  same. 

VII.  And  let  it  now  be  considered.  What  there  is  pro- 
mised in  the  gospel-covenant,  besides  what  may  be  com- 
prehended in  the  gift  of  the  Spirit.  We  will  first  set  a.side 
what  is  manifestly  not  promised  in  it  besides ;  and  then, 
more  closely  inquire  about  what  may  seem  distinctly  pro- 
mised, and  see  in  how  great  part  that  residue  will  be  re- 
ducible hither. 

1.  As  to  what  is  manifestly  not  promised  besides  ;  it  is 
plain,  there  is  not  promised  in  it  a  part  and  portion  in  a 
particular  land  or  country  on  earth,  as  there  was  in  the 
old  covenant  (contra-distinguished  to  this  new  one)  to 
Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob,  and  their  seed,  which  land 
was,  we  know,  called  the  "  land  of  promise  ;"  and  unto 
which  the  body  of  that  people  had  so  certain  a  title,  upon 
the  condition  of  their  continued  obedience,  that  they  were 
sure  never  to  be  removed  out  of  it;  or  if  they  had  made 
a  general  defection,  and  were  thereupon  forsaken  of  God, 
and  given  up  to  invading  enemies,  that  should  dispossess 
them,  they  were  as  sure,  upon  their  general  repentance, 
to  be  restored,  and  settled  there  again  ;  as  may  be  seen  in 
Solomon's  pra3'er,  at  the  dedication  of  the  temple,  and 
God's  most  gracious  and  particular  answer  thereto,  and 
in  divers  places  of  the  Old  Testament  besides. 

If  particular  persons  brake  this  covenant,  by  grosser 
transgressions,  they  were  to  be  cut  off  from  this  good  land, 
and,  by  Moses's  law,  at  the  mouth  of  two  or  three  wit- 
nesses, to  die  without  mere)';  and  so,  by  such  execution  of 
justice,  the  bodj'^  of  the  people  was  kept  safe  from  Divine 
displeasure  ;  the  land  was  not  defiled,  so  as  to  spew  out  its 
inhabitants. 

But  if  the  people  did  generally  revolt,  so  as  that  the 
ordinary  methods  of  punitive  justice  could  have  no  place, 
God  took  the  matter  into  his  own  hands,  and  did  justice 
upon  them  himself,  by  casting  them  out.  This  is  the 
covenant  Vvhich,  it  is  said,  they  brake,  Jer.  xxxi.  and  Heb. 
viii.  The  new  gospel  covenant  is  apparently  of  no  such 
import,  or  hath  no  such  additament  to  the  spiritual  bless- 
ings of  it. 

Nor  again  doth  it  promise,  more  indefinitely,  temporal 
blessings  of  any  kind,  with  certainty,  upon  any  condition 
whatsoever,  even  of  the  highest  faith,  the  most  fervent  love 
to  God,  or  the  most  accurate  obedience,  and  irreprehen- 
sibje  sanctity,  attainable  on  earth  ;  as  if  the  best  and 
holiest  men  should  therefore  be  any  whit  the  more  assured 
of  constant  health,  ease,  opulency,  or  peace  in  this  world. 
We  know  the  ordinary  course  of  providence  (which  can- 
not  justly  be  understood  to  be  a  misinterpreter  of  God's 
covenant)  runs  much  otherwise;  and  that  such  things  as 
concern  the  good  estate  of  our  spirits,  and  inward  man, 
are  the  only  things  we  can,  upon  any  terms,  be  sure  of, 
by  this  covenant ;  the  tenor  of  it  not  warranting  us  to  look 
upon  external  good  things,  as  otherwise  promised,  than  so 
far  as  they  may  be  subservient  to  these,  and  to  our  better 
serving  the  interest  and  honour  of  God  and  the  Redeemer; 
of  which  things  he  reserves  the  juderment  to  himself  And 
unto  Him,  by  this  covenant,  we  absolutely  devote  our- 
selves to  serve  and  glorify  him  in  his  own  way.  and  in 
whatsoever  external  circumstances  his  wisdom  and  good 
pleasure  shall  order  for  us;  being  ourselves  only  assured 
of  this  in  the  general,  That  all  things  shall  work  together 
for  good  to  us,  if  we  love  him,  &c.  but  still  esteeming  it 
our  highest  good  (as  we  cannot  but  do,  if  we  love  him  as 
we  ought)  to  be  most  serviceable  to  his  glory,  and  conform- 
able, in  our  habitual  temper,  to  his  will.  Spiritual  good 
things,  then,  are  by  the  tenor  of  this  covenant  our  only 
certainties,  Other  things  indeed  cannot  be  the  matter  of 
absolute  universal  promise.  Their  nature  refuses  it  and 
makes  them  incapable.  They  are  but  of  a  mutable  good- 
ness ;  may  be  sometimes,  in  reference  to  our  great  end, 
good  for  us ;  and  sometimes,  or  in  some  circumstances, 
evil  and  prejudicial.   And  being  in  a  possibilitj'  to  become 


no 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  II, 


evil  in  that  relative  sense,  (as  what  hinders  a  greater  good, 
is  then  an  evil,)  if  they  ever  be  actually  so;  tiiey  are  then 
no  longer  matter  of  a  promise.  The  promise  would  in 
that  case  cease  to  be  a,  promise;  for  can  there  be  a  promise 
of  an  evill  It  would  then  necessarily  degenerate,  and  turn 
Liito  a  threatening. 

VIII.  But  it  may  be  said  of  those  good  things  that  are 
of  a  higher  kind  and  nature,  that  respect  our  souls  and  our 
states  Godward,  there  seem  to  be  some  vastly  difi'erent 
from  this  of  giving  the  Spirit.     Therefore, 

2.  We  are  next  to  inquire  what  they  are,  and  how  far 
they  may  be  found  to  fall  into  this. 

Remission  of  sin  is  most  obvious,  and  comes  first  in 
view,  upon  this  account.  And  let  us  bethink  ourselves 
what  it  is.  We  will  take  it  for  granted,  that  it  is  not  a 
mere  concealed  will  or  purpose  to  pardon,  on  the  one  hand, 
(for  no  one  in  common  speech  takes  it  so ;  a  purpose  to 
do  a  thing  signifies  it  not  yet  to  be  done,)  nor  mere  not 
punishing,  on  the  other.  If  one  should  be  never  so  long 
only  forborne,  and  not  punished,  he  ma}'  j-et  be  still 
punishable,  and  will  be  always  so,  if  he  be  yet  guilty.  It 
's  therefore  such  an  act  as  doth,  in  law,  take  away  guik, 
iz.  the  reatuvi  fana,  or  dissolve  the  obligation  to  sitffcr 
punishment. 

It  is  therefore  to  be  considered,  what  punishment  a  sin- 
ner was,  by  the  violated  law  of  works  and  nature,  liable 
to  in  this  world,  or  in  the  world  to  come;  and  then  what 
of  this,  is,  by  virtue  of  the  Redeemer's  sacrifice  and  cove- 
nant, remitted.  He  was  liable  to  whatsoever  mi.series  in 
this  life  God  should  please  to  inflict;  to  temporal  death, 
and  to  a  state  of  misery  hereafter,  all  comprehended  in 
this  threatening,  "  Thou  shalt  die  the  death  ;"  if  we  will 
take  following  scriptures  and  providences  for  a  commen- 
tary upon  it. 

Now  the  miseries  to  which  the  sinner  was  liable  in  this 
world,  were  either  external,  or  internal.  Those  of  I  lie 
former  sort,  the  best  men  still  remain  liable  to.  Those  of 
the  inner  man  were  certainly  the  greater,  boih  in  them- 
selves, and  in  their  lendencj' and  consequence;  especially 
such  as  stand  in  the  ill  dispositi-ons  of  men's  minds  and 
spirits  Godward,  unapprehensiveness  of  him,  alienation 
from  him,  willingness  to  be  as  without  him  in  the  world. 
For  that  the  spirits  of  men  should  be  thus  disaffected,  and 
in  this  averse  posture  towards  God,  in  whomonl)'^  it  could 
be  possible  for  them  to  be  happy,  how^  could  it  but  be  most 
pernicious  to  them,  and  virtually  comprehensive  of  the 
worst  miseries'?  And  M'hence  came  these  evils  to  fall 
into  the  reasonable,  intelligent  spirit  of  man  ?  Was  it  by 
God's  infusion  1  Abhorred  be  that  black  thought !  Nor 
could  it  be,  if  they  were  not  forsaken  of  God,  and  the  holj^ 
light  and  influence  of  his  Spirit  were  not  withheld.  But 
is  more  evil  inflicted  upon  men  than  either  the  threatening 
or  the  sentence  of  the  law  contained  1  That  were  to  say, 
he  is  punished  above  legal  desert,  and  beyond  what  it 
duly  belonged  to  him  to  suffer.  Experience  shows  this  to 
be  the  common  case  of  men.  And  had  that  threatening 
and  sentence  concerned  Adam  only,  and  not  his  poste- 
rity, how  come  they  to  be  mortal,  and  otherwise  externally 
miserable  in  this  world,  as  well  as  he  1  But  how  plainly 
is  the  matter  put  out  of  doubt,  that  the  suspension  of  the 
Spirit  is  part  (and  it  cannot  but  be  the  most  eminent  part) 
of  the  curse  of  the  law,  hj  that  of  the  apostle,  "  Christ 
hath  redeemed  us  from  the  curse  of  the  law,  being  made  a 
curse  for  us,  that  this  blessing — might  come  upon  us," 
(even  the  Gentiles,  as  well  as  Abraham's  seed,)  "  that  we 
might  receive  the  promise  of  the  Spirit,"  Gal.  iii.  13,  14. 

But  now  what  is  there  of  all  the  misery  duly  incumbent 
upon  man  in  this  world,  by  the  constitution  of  that  law  of 
works  and  nature,  remitted  and  taken  off  by  virtue  of  the 
covenant  or  law  of  grace  or  faith,  from  them  that  have 
taken  hold  of  it,  or  entered  into  it  1  Who  dare  say,  God 
doth  not  keep  covenant  with  them  1  And  we  find  they 
die  as  well  as  other  men  ;  and  are  as  much  subject  to  the 
many  inconveniences  and  grievances  of  human  life.  And 
it  is  not  worth  the  while  fo  talk  of  the  mere  notion,  under 
which  they  suffer  them.  It  is  evident  that  God  doth  them 
no  wrong,  in  letting  them  be  their  lot ;  and  therefore  that 
as  they  were,  by  the  law  of  nature,  deserved,  so  God  hath 
not  obliged  himself,  by  the  covenant  or  law  of  grace,  to 
lake  or  keep  them  off;  for  then  surely  he  had  kept  his 


word.  That  he  hath  obliged  himself  to  do  that  which  is 
more,  and  a  greater  thmg,  to  bless  and  sanctify  them  to 
their  advantage  and  gain,  in  higher  respects,  is  plain  and 
out  of  question ;  which  serves  our  present  purpose,  and 
crosses  it  not. 

For  upon  the  whole,  that  which  remains  the  actual  mat- 
ter of  remission,  in  this  world,  is  whatsoever  of  those  spi- 
ritual evils  would  be  necessarily  consequent  upon  the  total 
restraint,  and  wiihholdingof  the  Spirit. 

And  that  this  is  the  remission  of  sin  in  this  life,  which 
the  Scripture  intends,  is  plain  from  divers  express  places, 
Acts  ii.  37,  38.  When  the  apostle  Peter's  heart-pierced 
hearers  cry  out,  in  their  distress,  "What  shall  we  do'?" 
he  directs  them  thus :  "  Repent,  and  be  baptized,  every 
one  of  you,  for  the  remission  of  sins,  and  ye  shall  (he  adds) 
receive  the  Holy  Ghost ;  for  the  promise  is  to  you,  and 
your  children;"  q.  d.  "  The  great  promise  of  the  gospel- 
covenant,  is  that  of  the  gift  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  It  doth 
not  promise  you  worldly  wealth,  or  ease,  or  riches,  or  ho- 
nours; but  it  promises  you  that  God  will  be  no  longer  a 
stranger  to  you,  refuse  your  converse,  withhold  his  Spirit 
from  you  ;  your  souls  shall  lie  no  longer  waste  and  deso- 
late. But  as  he  hath  mercifully  approached  your  spirits, 
to  make  them  habitable,  and  fit  to  receive  so  great  and  so 
holy  an  intimate,  and  to  your  reception  whereof,  nothing 
but  unremitted  sin  could  be  any  obstruction  ;  as,  upon 
y(5ur  closing  with  the  terms  of  the  gospel-covenant,  by  a 
sincere  believing  intuition  towards  him  whom  you  have 
pierced,  and  resolving  to  become  Christians,  whereof  your 
being  baptized,  and  therein  taking  on  Christ's  badge  and 
cognizance,  will  be  the  fii  and  enjoined  sign  and  token,  and 
by  which  federal  rite,  remission  of  sin  shall  be  openly  con- 
firmed, and  solemnly  sealed  unto  5'ou;  so  by  that  remis- 
sion of  sin  the  bar  is  removed,  and  nothing  can  hinder  the 
Holy  Ghost  from  entering  to  take  possession  of  your  souls 
as  his  own  temple  and  dwelling-place." 

We  are  by  the  way  to  take  notice,  that  this  fulfilling  of 
tiie  terms  of  the  gospel-covenant  is.  aptly  enough,  in  great 
part,  here  expressed  by  the  word  7'c;7C7;<2wcc;  most  com- 
monly it  is  by  that  oi  faith.  It  might  as  fitly  be  signified 
by  the  former  in  this  place,  if  you  consider  the  tenor  of  the 
foregoing  discourse,  rf.2r.  that  it  remonstrated  to  them  their 
great  wickedness  in  crucifying  Christ  as  a  malefactor  and 
impostor,  whom  they'ough*  to  have  believed  in  as  a  Sa- 
viour; now  to  repent  of  this,  was  to  believe.,  which  yet  is 
more  fully  expressed  by  that  which  follows ;  and  be  bap- 
tized in  (or  rather  into)  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

It  is  in  the  whole  plain,  that  their  reception  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,  as  a  Dweller,  sinnds  in  close  connexion,  as 
an  immediate  consequent,  with  their  having  their  sins  ac- 
tually remitted,  and  that,  with  their  repenting  their  former 
lefusing  of  Christ  as  the  Messiah,  their  now  becoming 
Christians,  or  taking  on  Christ's  name,  whereof  their  being 
baptized  was  to  be  only  the  sign,  and  the  solemnization 
of  their  entrance  into  the  Christian  state,  and  by  conse- 
quence, a  visible  confirmation  of  remission  of  sin  to  them. 
Irhey  are  therefore  directed  to  be  baptized  into  the  name 
of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  i-i  tm  oi/ii/mri,  or  unto  a  covenant- 
surrender  of  themselves  to  Christ,  whereof  their  baptism 
was,  it  is  true,  to  be  the  signifying  token  for  the  remission 
of  sins;  which  remission  therefore  must  be  understood  con- 
nected, not  with  the  sign  but  with  the  thing  which  it  signi- 
fied. And  it  was  only  a  more  explicit  repentance  of  their 
former  infidelity,  and  a  more  explicit  faith,  which  the 
apostle  now  exhorts  them  to,  the  inchoation  whereof  he 
might  already'  perceive,  by  their  concerned  question, 
"  What  shall  we  do'?"  intimating  their  willingness  to  do 
any  thing  that  they  ought;  that  their  hearts  were  already 
overcome  and  won ;  and  that  the  Holy  Ghost  had  conse- 
quently began  to  enter  upon  them :  the  manifestation  of 
whose  entrance  is  elsewhere,  as  to  persons  adult,  found  to 
bean  antecedent  requisite  to  baptism,  and  made  the  argu- 
ment why  it  should  not  be  withheld,  as  Acts  x.  47.  "  Can 
any  man  forbid  that  these  should  not  be  baptized,  who 
have  received  the  Holy  Ghost,  as  well  as  we'?" 

Rcvtission  of  sin,  therefore,  as  it  signifies  giving  a  right 
to  future  impimity,  signifies  giving  a  right  to  the  participa- 
tion of  the  Spirit;  the  withholding  whereof  was  the  prin- 
cipal punishment  to  be  taken  off.  And  as  it  signifies  the 
actual  taking  off  of  that  punishment,  it  must  connote  the 


Chap.  XI. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Ill 


actual  communicalion  of  the  Spirit.  Therefore,  upon  Uiat 
faith  which  is  our  entrance  into  the  gospel-covenant,  the 
curse  which  withheld  the  Spirit  is  removed,  and  so  we 
receive  the  promise  of  the  Spirit  (or  the  promised  Spirit) 
by  faith ;  as  is  plain  in  that  before  mentioned,  Gal.  iii. 
13,  14. 

The  same  reference  of  giving  (or  continuing)  the  Spirit 
imto  forgiveness  of  sin,  we  may  observe  in  that  of  the 
Psalmist:  "  Hide  thy  face  from  iny  sins,  and  blot  out  all 
mine  iniquities.  Creaie  in  me  a  clean  heart,  and  renew 
a  right  Spirit  within  me.  Cast  me  not  away  from  thy 
presence,  and  take  not  thy  Holy  Spirit  from  me;"  (Ps.  li. 
9,  10,  11.)  which  it  is  plain  was  dreaded  and  deprecated 
as  the  worst  of  evils;  but  which  would  be  kept  off,  if  ini- 
quity were  blotted  out.  And  as  to  this,  there  was  no 
more  difference  in  the  case,  than  between  one  whose  state 
was  to  be  renewed,  and  one  with  whom  God  was  first  to 
begin.  And  that  summar)^  of  spiritual  blessings  promised 
in  the  new  covenant.  Jar.  xxxi.  31,  32,  &,c.  and  Heb.  viii. 
which  all  suppose  the  promised  gift  of  the  Spirit  itself,  as 
the  root  of  them  all — "  I  vrill  put  my  law  in  their  inward 
parts,  and  will  write  it  in  their  hearts,"  &c.  is  all  grounded 
upon  this :  "  For  I  will  forgive  their  iniquity,  and  I  will 
remember  their  sin  no  more."  When  therefore  the  punish- 
ment of  sin  is  remitted,  quoad  jus,  or  a  right  is  granted  to 
impunity,  the  Spirit  is,  de  jure,  given;  or  a  right  is  confer- 
red unto  this  sacred  gift.  When  actually  (upon  that  right 
granted)  the  punishment  is  taken  off,  the  Spirit  is  actually 
given ;  the  withholding  whereof  was  the  principal  punish- 
ment we  were  liable  to,  in  this  present  state. 

IX.  And  as  io  justification,  \he.  case  cannot  differ,  which 
itself  so  little  differs  from  pardon,  that  the  same  act  is  par- 
don, being  done  by  God  as  a  sovereign  Ruler  acting  above 
hiw,  viz.  the  law  of  works  ;  and  justification,  being  done 
by  him  a.s  sustaming  the  person  of  a  judge  according  to 
law,  viz.  the  law  of  grace. 

Adoption  also  imports  the  privilege  conferred  of  being 
the  sons  of  God.  And  what  is  that  privilege  1  (for  it  is 
more  than  a  name ;)  that  such  are  led  by  the  Spirit  of  God : 
(Rom.  viii.  14.)  which  Spirit  is  therefore,  as  the  peculiar 
cognizance  of  the  state,  called  the  Spirit  of  adoption, 
{v.  15.)  and  forms  theirs  suitably  thereto:  for  it  was  not 
fit  the  sons  of  God  should  have  the  spirits  of  slaves.  'Tis 
not  the  .spirit  of  bondage  that  is  given  them,  as  there  it 
is  expressed,  but  a  free  generous  spirit;  not  of  fear,  as 
there,  and  2  Tim.  i.  7.  but  of  love  and  power,  and  of  a 
sound  mind.  Most  express  is  that  parallel  text,  Gal.  iv. 
Because  they  are  sons,  he  hath  sent  the  Spirit  of  his  Son 
into  their  hearts,  that  enables  them  (as  also  Rom.  viii.  16. 
speaks)  to  say,  Abba,  Father,  makes  them  understand  their 
state,  whose  sons  they  are,  and  who  is  their  Fatlier,  and 
reallv  implants  in  them  all  filial  di<;positions  and  affections 

Wherefore  it  is  most  evident  that  the  relative  srrace  of 
the  covenant  only  gives  a  right  to  the  real  grace  of  it ;  and 
that  the  real  grace  communira'ed  in  this  life,  is  all  com- 
prehended in  the  gift  of  the  Spirit,  even  that  which  flows 
in  the  external  dispensations  of  Providence,  not  excepted. 
For  as  outward  good  things,  or  immunity  from  outward 
afflictions,  are  not  promised  in  this  new  covenant,  further 
than  as  they  shall  be  truly  and  spiritually  good  for  us; 
but  we  are,  by  the  tenor  of  it,  left  to  the  suffering  of  very 
sharp  afflictions,  and  the  loss  or  want  of  all  worldlv  com- 
forts, with  assurance  that  will  turn  to  our  srreater  spiritual 
advantage;  so  the  grace  and  sanctifying:  influence,  that 
shall  make  them  do  so,  is  all  from  the  same  Fountain,  the 
issue  of  the  same  blessed  Spirit.  We  only  add,  that  eter- 
nal life  in  the  close  of  all  depends  upon  it,  not  only  as  the 
man}'  things  alreadv  mentioned  do  so,  that  are  necessary 
to  it,  but  as  it  signified  to  be  itself  the  immediate  perpetual 
spring  thereof.  Thev  that  sow  to  the  Spirit,  shall  of  the 
Spirit  reap  life  everlasting.  Gal.  vi.  8.  And  how  plainlv 
hath  our  blessed  Lord  signified  the  vast  extent  of  this  gift. 
when  by  good  things  in  general,  Matt.  vii.  11.  he  lets  us 
know  he  means  the  Holy  Spirit,  Luke  xi.  13. 

We  therefore  see,  that  this  great  gift  of  the  Holy  Ghost 
is  vouchsafed  entirely  upon  the  Redeemer's  account,  and 
by  the  authority  of  his  office,  for  the  buildins  and  inhahitins 
the  desolated  temple  of  God  with  men:  for  the  rebuild- 
ing of  it ;  by  that  plenipotency,  or  absolute  fulness  of 
power,  whicH,  by  the  sacrifice  of  himself,  he  hath  obtained 


should  be  in  him:  for  the  re-inhabiting  of  it,  by  virtue, 
and  accordingto  the  tenor,  of  that  covenant,  now  .solemnly 
entered;  and  which  was  established  and  ratified  in  the 
blood  of  that  same  Sacrifice.  Wherein  appears  the  due- 
ne.ss  of  it  to  the  regenerate  ;  or  that  they  have  a  real  right 
to  it,  who  are  born  of  the  Spirit;  and  have  also  seen  the 
large  amplitude  and  vast  comprehensiveness  of  this  gift. 
We  therefore  proceed  to  what  was,  in  the  next  place,  pro- 
mised, and  wherein,  after  what  hath  been  said,  there  will 
need  little  enlargement,  i.  e. 

X.  2.  To  give  an  account,  (as  was  proposed  in  ch.  ix 
sect,  vii.)  How  highly  reasonable  it  was  trie  Holy  Spirit 
of  God  should  not  be  vouchsafed  for  these  purposes,  upon 
other  terms.     And  this  we  shall  see, 

1.  By  mentioning  briefly,  .what  we  have  been  showing 
all  this  while — The  xast  e.rtent  and  amplitude  of  this 
gift.  Let  it  be  remembered  that  the  most  considerable 
part  of  the  penalty  and  curse  incurred  by  the  apostacy, 
was  the  withholding  of  the  Spirit;  from  which  curse  in 
the  whole  of  it  Christ  was  to  redeem  us,  by  being  made  a 
curse  for  us.  By  the  same  curse,  also,  our  title  to  many 
other  benefits  ceased  and  was  lost,  and  many  other  mi- 
series were  inferred  upon  it.  But  this  one  of  being  de- 
prived of  the  Spirit  did  so  far  surmount  all  the  rest,  that 
nothing"  else  was  thought  worth  the  naming  with  it,  when 
the  curse  of  the  law,  and  Christ's  redemption  of  us  from. 
it,  are  so  designedly  spoken  of  together.  If  only  lessei 
penalties  Avere  to  have  been  remitted,  or  favours  conferred 
of  an  inferior  kind,  a  recompense  to  the  violated  law  and 
justice  of  God,  and  the  affronted  majesty  of  his  govern- 
ment, had  been  less  necessarily  insisted  on.  But  that  the 
greatest  thing  imaginable  should  be  vouchsafed  upon  so 
easy  terms;  and  without  a  testified  resentment  of  the  in- 
jury done  by  ruining  his  former  temple,  was  never  to  be 
expected.  JN'othing  was  more  becoming  or  wortliy  of  God, 
than  when  man's  revolt  from  him  so  manifestly  implied  an 
insolent  conceit  of  his  self-sufliciency,  and  that  lie  could 
subsist  and  be  happy  alone,  he  should  presently  withhold 
his  Spirit,  and  leave  hiiu  to  sink  into  that  carnalitv  which 
involved  the  fulness  of  death  and  misery  in  it.  ("To  be 
carnallv  minded  is  death.")  It  belonged  to  the  majesty 
and  grandeur  of  the  Deity,  it  was  a  part  of  Godlike  state 
and  greatness,  to  retire  and  become  reserved,  to  reciude 
himself,  and  shut  up  his  holy  cheering  influences  and 
communications  from  a  haughty  miscreant;  that  it  might 
try  and  feel  what  a  sort  of  god  it  could  be  to  itself:  but 
to  return;  the  state  of  the  case  being  unaltered  and  every 
way  the  same  as  when  he  withdrew,  no  reparation  being 
made,  no  atonement  offered,  had  been,  instead  of  judging 
his  offending  creature,  to  have  judged  himself,  to  rescind 
his  own  sentence  as  if  it  had  been  unjust;  to  tear  his  act 
and  deed  as  if  it  had  been  the  product  of  a  ra.sh  and  hasty 
passion,  not  of  mature  and  wise  counsel  and  judgment; 
the  indecencv  and  unbecomingness  whereof  had  been  the 
greater  and  the  more  conspicuous,  by  how  much  the  greater 
and  more  peculiar  favour  it  was  to  restore  his  gracious 
presence,  or  (which  is  all  one)  the  influences  of  his  Holy 
Spirit.     Further  consider, 

2.  That  since  nothing  was  more  necessary  for  the  restitu- 
tion of  God's  temple,  it  had  been  .strange  if,  in  the  consti- 
tution of  Emmanuel  for  this  purpose,  this  had  been 
omitted:  for  it  is  plain  that  without  it  things  could  never 
have  come  to  anv  better  state  and  posture  between  God 
and  man  ;  God  must  liave  let  him  he  at  the  same  distance, 
without  givinsf  him  his  Spirit.  Neither  could  he  honourably 
converse  with  man  ;  nor  man  possibly  converse  with  him. 
Man  would  ever  have  borne  towards  God  an  implacable 
heart.  And  whereas  it  is  acknowledged,  on  all  hands,  his 
repentance  at  least  was  necessary  both  on  God's  account 
and  his  own,  that  God  might  be  reconciled  to  him,  who 
without  intolerable  diminution  to  himself,  could  never 
otherwise  have  shown  him  favour.  He  had  always  carried 
about  him  the  ^.ip.'i'.ii' (iusrajifX/jr.n,  the  h':art  that  could  not 
repent.  The  "  carnal  mind,"  which  is  "  enmity  against 
God,"  is  neither  subject  to  him  nor  can  be,  had  remained 
in  full  power;  there  had  never  been  any  stooping  or  yield- 
ing on  man's  part.  And  there  had  remained,  besides,  all 
manner  of  impurities :  fleshlv  lusts  had  retained  the 
throne  ;  the  soul  of  man  had  continued  a  cage  of  every 
noisome  and  hateful  thing,  the  most  unfit  in  all  the  wo-  Id 


112 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


Part  II. 


to  have  been  the  temple  of  the  holy  blessed  God.  It  had 
neither  stood  with  his  majesty  to  have  favoured  an  impe- 
nitent, nor  with  his  holiness  to  have  favoured  so  impure, 
a  creature.  Therefore,  without  the  giving  of  his  Spirit  to 
mollify  and  purily  the  spirits  of  men,  his  honour  in  such  a 
reconciliation  had  never  been  salved. 

And  take  the  case  as  it  must  stand  on  man's  part,  his 
happiness  had  remained  impossible.  He  could  never  have 
conversed  with  God,  or  taken  complacency  in  him,  to 
whom  he  had  continued  everlastingly  unsuitable  and  dis- 
aflected.  No  valuable  end  could  have  been  attained,  that 
it  was  either  fit  God  should  have  designed  for  himself,  or 
was  necessary  to  have  been  effected  for  man.  In  short, 
there  could  have  been  no  temple :  God  could  never  have 
dwelt  with  man;  man  would  never  have  received  him  to 
dwell. 

3.  But  it  is  evident  this  was  not  omitted  in  the  constitu- 
tion of  Emmarruel.  It  being  provided  and  procured  by 
his  dear  expense,  that  he  should  have  in  him  a  fulness  of 
Spirit :  not  merely  as  God ;  for  so  in  reference  to  offend- 
ing creatures  it  had  been  enclosed  :  but  as  Emmanuel,  as 
a  Mediator,  a  dying  Redeemer;  for  only  by  such  a  one, 
or  by  him  as  such,  it  could  be  communicated ;  so  was 
there  a  sufficiency  for  this  purpose  of  restoring  God's  tem- 
ple. And  why  was  he  in  this  way  to  become  sufficient, 
if  afterwards  he  might  have  been  waived,  neglected,  and 
the  same  work  have  been  done  another  way? 

4.  It  could  only  be  done  this  way,  in  and  by  Emmanuel. 
As  such,  he  had  both  the  natural  and  moral  power  in  con- 
junction, which  were  necessary  to  effect  it. 

(I.)  The  luitural power  of  Deity  which  was  in  him,  was 
only  competent  for  this  purpose.  Herein  had  he  the  ad- 
vantage infinitely  of  all  human  power  and  greatness.  If 
an  offended  secular  prince  had  never  so  great  a  mind  to 
save  and  restore  a  condemned  favourite,  who  besides  that 
he  is  of  so  haughty  a  pride,  and  so  hardened  in  his  enmity, 
that  he  had  rather  die  than  supplicate,  hath  contracted  all 
other  vicious  inclinations,  is  become  infinitely  immoral, 
debauched,  unjust,  dishonest,  false,  and  we  will  suppose 
stupid,  and  bereft  of  the  sprightly  wit  that  graced  his  for- 
mer conversation  ;  his  merciful  prince  would  fain  preserve 
and  enjoy  him  as  before;  but  he  cannot  change  his  quali- 
ties, and  cannot  but  be  ashamed  to  converse  familiarly 
with  him,  while  they  remain  unchanged.  Now  the  blessed 
Emmanuel,  as  he  is  God,  can,  by  giving  his  Spirit,  do  all 
his  pleasure  in  such  a  case.     And  he  hath  as  such  too, 

(2.)  The  moral  po^ver  of  doing  it  most  righteously  and 
becomingly  of  God,  i.  e.  upon  consideration  of  that  great 
and  noble  sacrifice,  which  as  such  he  offered  up.  He  is 
now  enabled  lo  give  the  Spirit :  he  might  otherwise  do 
any  thing  for  man  rather  than  this  :  for  it  imports  the 
greatest  intimacy  imaginable.  All  external  overtures  and 
expressions  of  kindness,  were  nothing  in  comparison  of  it. 
And  no  previous  disposition  towards  it,  nothing  of  com- 
pliance on  the  sinner's  part,  no  self-purifying,  no  self- 
loathing  for  former  impurities,  no  smiting  on  the  thigh,  or 
saying,  "  What  have  I  done,"  could  be  supposed  antece- 
dent to  this  communication  of  the  Spirit.  The  universe 
can  afford  no  like  case,  between  an  offending  wretch,  and 
an  affronted  ruler.  If  the  greatest  prince  on  earth  had 
been  never  so  contumeliously  abused  by  the  most  abject 
peasant;  the  distances  are  infinitely  .ess,  than  between 
the  injured  glorious  Majesty  of  heaven,  ami  the  guilty 
sinner ;  the  injury  done  this  majesty  incomprehensibly 
greater. 

And  besides  all  other  differences  in  the  two  cases,  there 
is  this  most  important  one,  as  may  be  collected  from  what 
hath  been  so  largely  discoursed,  that  the  principal  thing 
in  the  sentence  and  curse  upon  apostate  man,  was,  That 
God's  Spirit  should  retire  and  be  withheld,  so  that  he 
should  converse  with  him,  by  if,  no  more.  The  condemn- 
ing sentence  upon  a  criminal,  doth  in  secular  governments 
extend  to  life  and  estate;  such  a  one  might  be  pardoned 
as  to  both,  and  held  ever  at  a  distance.  If  before  he  were 
a  favourite,  he  may  still  remain  discourted.  Familiar  con- 
verse with  his  prince,  was  ever  a  thing  to  which  he  could 
lay  no  legal  claim,  but  was  always  a  thing  of  free  and 
arbitrary  favour.  But  suppose,  in  this  case  of  delinquency, 
the  law  and  his  sentence  did  forbid  it  for  ever;  and  sup- 
pose we  that  vile  insolent  peasant,  before  under  obligation 


to  his  prince,  for  his  daily  livelihood  and  subsistence,  now 
under  condemnation  for  most  opprobrious  affronts  and  ma- 
licious attempts  against  him  ;  he  relents  not,  scorns  mercy, 
defies  justice  ;  his  compassionate  prince  rushes,  notwith- 
standing, into  his  embraces,  takes  him  into  his  cabinet, 
shuts  himself  up  with  hiin  in  secret:  but  all  this  while, 
though  by  what  he  does  he  debases  himself,  beyond  all 
expectation  of  decency ;  the  principal  thing  is  still  want- 
ing, he  cannot  alter  his  disposition.  If  he  could  give  him 
a  truly  right  mind,  it  were  better  than  all  the  riches  of  the 
Indies.  This  greatest  instance  of  condescension  he  can- 
not reach,  if  he  never  so  gladly  would.  It  is  not  in  his 
power,  even  when  he  joins  bosoms,  to  mingle  spirits  with 
him ;  and  so  must  leave  him  as  incapable  of  his  most  va- 
luable end,  as  he  found  him. 

In  the  present  case,  what  was  in  itself  so  necessary  to 
the  intended  end,  was  only  possible  to  Emmanuel ;  Avho 
herein  becomes  most  intimate  to  us,  and  in  the  fullest  sense 
admits  to  be  so  called  ;  and  was  therefore  necessary  to  be 
done  by  him :  unless  his  so  rich  sufficiency,  and  the  end 
itself,  should  be  lost  together. 

XI.  Thus  far  we  have  been  considering  the  temple  of 
God  individually  taken  as  each  man,  once  become  sin- 
cerely good  and  pious,  renewed,  united  with  Emmanuel, 
i.  e.  with  God  in  Christ,  and  animated  by  the  Spirit,  may 
be  himself  a  single  temple  to  the  most  high  God. 

I  might  now  pass  on  to  treat  of  the  external  state  of 
the  Christian  church,  and  of  the  whole  community  of 
Christians,  who  collectively  taken,  and  built  upon  the 
foundation  of  the  apostles  and  prophets,  Jesus  Christ 
himself  being  the  chief  Corner-stone,  in  whom  fitly  fiamed 
and  builded  together,  they  grow  unto  an  holy  temple  in 
the  Lord;  and  are  in  this  compacted  state  a  habitation  of 
God,  through  the  Spirit.  Eph.  ii.  20.  But  this  larger 
subject,  the  outer-court  of  this  temple,  is,  I  find,  beset 
and  overspread  with  scratching  briers  and  thorns.  And 
for  the  sacred  structure  itself,  though  other  foundation 
none  can  lay,  than  that  is  laid,  which  is  Jesus  Christ, 
1  Cor.  iii.  II,  &c.  yet  some  are  for  superstructing  one 
thing,  some  another;  some  gold,  silver,  precious  stones ; 
others  wood,  hay,  stubble.  I  am,  for  my  part,  content, 
that  every  man's  work  be  made  manifest,  when  the  day 
shall  declare  it. 

Great  differences  there  have  long  been,  and  still  are, 
about  setting  up  (the  Trrrpi'yia)  the  pinnacles,  and  adjoining 
certain  appendicles,  which  some  have  thought  may  inno- 
cently and  becomingly  belong  to  it.  And  very  different 
sentiments  there  have  been  about  modifying  the  services 
of  it.  Some  too  are  for  garnishing  and  adorning  it  one 
way,  some  another.  And  too  many  agitate  these  little 
differences,  with  so  contentious  heats  and  angers,  as  to 
evaporate  the  inward  spirit  and  life,  and  hazard  the  con- 
sumption of  the  holy  fabric  itself.  Ill-willers  look  on  with 
pleasure,  and  do  hope  the  violent  convulsions  which  they 
behold,  will  tear  the  whole  frame  in  pieces,  and  say  in 
their  hearts,  "  Down  with  it  even  to  the  ground."  But  it 
is  built  on  a  rock,  against  which  the  gates  of  hell  can 
never  prevail ! 

It  ought  not  to  be  doubted,  but  that  there  yet  will  be  a 
time  of  so  copious  an  effusion  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  as  will 
invigorate  it  afresh,  and  make  it  spring  up  out  of  its  maci- 
lent  withered  state,  into  its  primitive  liveliness  and  beauty; 
when  it  shall,  according  to  the  intended  .spiritual  meaning, 
resemble  the  external  splendour  of  its  ancient  figure, 
Sion,  the  perfection  of  beauty;  and  arise  and  shine,  the 
glory  of  the  Lord  being  risen  upon  it.  But  if  before  that 
time  there  be  a  day  that  shall  burn  as  an  oven  and 
make  the  hemisphere  as  one  fiery  vault;  a  day  wherein 
the  jealous  God  shall  plead  against  the  Christian  church 
for  its  lukewarmness  and  scandalous  coldness  in  the  matter 
of  serious  substantial  religion;  and  no  less  scandalous 
heats  and  fervours  about  trivial  formalities,  with  just  in- 
dignation, and  flames  of  consuming  fire,  then  will  the 
straw  and  stubble  be  burnt  up;  and  such  as  were  sincere, 
though  too  intent  upon  such  little  trifles,  be  saved,  yet  so 
as  through  fire. 

A  twofold  effusion  we  may  expect,  of  the  wrath,  and  of 
the  Spirit  of  God.  The  former  to  vindicate  himself;  the 
other  to  reform  us.  Then  will  this  temple  no  more  be 
termed  forsaken;  it  will  be  actually,  and  in  fact,  what  in 


Chap.  XI. 


THE  LIVING  TEMPLE. 


113 


right  it  is  always,  "  Bethel,  The  house  of  God,  and  the 
gate  of  heaven."  Till  then,  little  prosperity  i.s  to  be 
hoped  for  in  the  Christian  church  ;  spiritnal,  -without  a 
large  communiiation  of  the  Spirit,  it  cannot  ^ave  ;  exter- 
nal {\vnho\\l  it)  it  cannot  6m/-.  It  was  a  noted  "  pagan's 
observation  and  experiment,  How  incapable  a  n-cak  inind  is 
of  a  prosperous  state.  In  heaven  there  will  be  no  need  of 
afflictions :  on  earth,  the  distempers  of  men's  minds  do 
both  need  and  cause  ihem.  The  pride,  avarice,  envyings, 
self-conceitedness,  abounding  each  in  their  own  sense, 
minding  every  one  their  own  things,  without  regard  to 
those  of  another,  a  haughty  confidence  of  being  always 
in  the  right,  with  contempt  and  hard  censures  of  them 
that  differ,  spurning  at  the  royal  law  of  doing  as  one  would 
be  done  to,  of  bearing  with  others  as  one  would  be 
borne  with  ;  evil  surmisings,  the  imperiousness  of  some, 
and  peevishness  of  others,  to  be  found  among  them  that 
bear  the  Christian  name,  will  not  let  the  church,  the  house 
of  God,  be  in  peace,  and  deserve  that  it  should  not ;  but 
that  he  should  let  them  alone  to  punish  themselves  and 
one  another. 

But  the  nearer  we  approach,  on  earth,  to  the  heavenly 
state,  which  only  a  more  copious  and  general  pouring 
forth  of  the  blessed  Spirit  will  infer,  the  more  capable  we 
shall  be  of  imcard  and  outward  prosperity  both  together. 
Then  will  our  differences  vanish  of  course.  The  external 
pompousness  of  the  church  will  be  less  studied,  the  life 
and  spirit  of  it  much  more ;  and  if  I  may  express  my  o\\ti 
sense,  as  to  this  matter,  it  should  be  in  the  words  of  that 
f  worthy  ancient,  viz.  That  supposing  the  option  or  choice 
were  left  me,  I  would  choose  to  have  lived  in  a  time  when 
the  temples  were  less  adorned  with  all  sorts  of  marbles, 
the  church  not  being  destitute  of  .spiritual  graces.  In  the 
mean  time,  till  those  happier  days  come,  wherein  Chris- 
tians shall  be  of  one  heart  and  one  way,  happy  are  they 
that  can  attain  so  far  to  bear  one  another's  yet  remaining 
differences.  And  since  it  is  impossible  for  all  to  Avorship 
together  within  the  walls  of  the  same  material  temple, 
that  they  choose  ordinarily  to  do  it,  where  they  observe 
the  nearest  approach  to  God's  own  rule  and  pattern  ;  and 
where,  upon  experience,  they  find  most  of  spiritual  advan- 
tage and  edification,  not  despising,  much  less  paganizing, 
those  that  are  built  with  them  upon  the  same  foundation, 
because  of  circumstantial  disagreements;  nor  making 
mere  circumstances,  not  prescribed  by  Christ  himself  the 
measures  and  boundaries  of  Christian  communion,  or  any 
thing  else  that  Christ  hath  not  made  so  :  that  abhor  to  say 
(exclusively)  Christ  is  here,  or  there,  so  as  to  deny  him  to 
be  any  where  else;  or  to  confine  his  presence  to  this  or 
that  party  ;  or  to  a  temple  so  or  so  modified,  by  no  direc- 
tion fjom  himself  Or  if  any,  through  mistake,  or  the  pre- 
judices of  education  and  converse,  1  e  of  narrower  minds, 
and  will  refuse  our  communion,  unless  we  will  embrace 
theirs  upon  such  terms  as  to  abandon  the  communion  of 
all  other  Christians,  that  are  upon  the  same  bottom  with 
ourselves  and  them;  that  even  as  to  them  we  retain  a 
charitable  hope,  that  our  blessed  Lord  will  not  therefore 
exclude  them  ;  because,  through  their  too  intense  zeal  for 
the  little  things,  whereof  they  have  made  their  partition- 
wall,  they  exclude  us.  If  again,  we  be  not  too  positive,  or 
too  prone  to  dispute  about  those  minute  matters  that  have 
been  controverted  bj"-  the  most  judicious  and  sincere  ser- 
vants of  our  Lord,  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  other,  in 
former  days,  and  with  little  effect;  as  if  we  understood 
more  than  any  of  them,  had  engrossed  all  knoAvledge,and 
wisdom  were  to  die  with  us  !  and  that  with  our  bolt,  too 
suddenly  shot,  we  could  out-shoot  all  others  that  ever  had 

e  Infirmi  est  animi,  non  posse  pati  di\itias.    Sen. 


gone  before  us  :  if  our  minds  be  well  furnished  with  hu- 
mility, meekness,  modesty,  sincerity,  love  to  God.  and  his 
Christ,  and  our  brethren,  no  otherwise  distinguished,  than 
by  their  visible  avowed  relation  to  him,  this  will  constitute 
us  such  temples,  as  whereunto  the  blessed  God  will  never 
refuse  his  presence.  And  do  more  to  keep  the  Christian 
church  in  a  tolerable  good  state,  till  the  wa^iyycffo-ia,  the 
times  of  restitution,  come,  than  the  most  fervent  disputa- 
tions ever  can. 

And  so  I  shall  take  leave  of  this  subject,  in  hope  that, 
through  the  blessing  of  God,  it  may  be  of  use  to  some  that 
shall  allow  themselves  to  read  and  consider  it ;  request- 
ing only.'^uch  as  are  weary  of  living  as  without  God  in  the 
world,  that  they  defer  not  to  invite,  and  admit  the  Dii'ine 
presence,  till  they  see  all  agreed  about  every  little  thing 
that  belongs  to  his  temple,  or  that  may  be  thought  to  be- 
long to  it,  but  resolve  upon  what  is  plain  and  great,  and 
■which  all  that  are  serious,  that  have  any  regard  to  God,  or 
their  own  everlasting  well-being,  cannot  but  agree  in,  i.  e. 
forthwith  to  "  lift  up  the  evei  lasting  doors,  that  the  King 
of  glory  may  come  in."  Do  it  without  delay,  or  disputa- 
tion. Let  others  dispute  little  punctilios  with  one  another 
as  they  please  ;  but  do  not  you  dispute  this  grand  point 
with  him.  Look  to  Emmanuel ;  consider  him  in  the 
several  capacities,  and  in  all  the  accomplishments,  per- 
formances, acquisitions,  by  which  he  is  so  admirably  fitted 
to  bring  it  about,  that  God  may  have  his  temple  iii  your 
breast.  Will  you  defeat  so  kind  and  so  glorious  a  design  1 
Behold,  or  listen,  doih  he  not  stand  at  the  door,  and  knock  1 
Rev.  iii.  20. 

Consider,  as  exemplary,  the  temper  of  the  royal  Psalmist, 
how  he  sware — how  he  vowed — I  will  not  come  into  the 
tabernacle  of  my  house,  nor  go  up  into  my  bed;  I  will  not 
give  sleep  to  my  eyes,  nor  slumber  to  my  eye-lids,  till  I 
have  found  out  a  place  for  the  Lord,  a  habitation  for  the 
mighty  God  !  Ps.  cxxxii.  Yours  is  a  business  of  less  in- 
quisition, less  expense !  His  temple  is  to  be  within  j-ou. 
Lament,  O  bitterly  lament  the  common  case,  that  he  may 
look  through  a  whole  world  of  intelligent  creatures,  and 
find  every  breast,  till  he  open,  shut  up  against  him  '  All 
agreeing  to  exclude  their  most  gracious  rightful  Lord, 
choosing  rather  to  live  desolate  without  him  ! 

The  preparation,  or  prepared  mansion,  is  a  penitent, 
purged,  willing  heart !  Fall  down  and  adore  this  most 
admirable  and  condescending  grace;  that  the  high  anil 
lofty  One,  who  inhabits  eternity,  who  having  made  a 
world,  and  surveying  the  work  of  his  own  hands,  inquires, 
"  Where  shall  he  my  house,  and  the  place  of  my  rest  1" 
and  thus  resolves  it  himself:  "  The  humble,  broken,  con- 
trite heart!  there,  there  I  will  dwell  !" 

If  you  have  such  a  temple  for  him,  dedicate  it.  Make 
haste  to  do  so:  doubt  not  its  suitableness.  'Tis  his  own 
choice,  his  own  workmanship;  the  regeneiate  new  crea- 
ture. He  himself,  as  Emmanuel,  hath  procured  and  pre- 
pared it,  knowing  what  would  be  mo.st  grateful,  most 
agreeable  to  him:  to  the  most  exalted  Majesty;  the  most 
profound,  humble  self-abasement.  Upon  this  consum- 
mative  act,  the  dedicating  of  this  temple,  I  might  here  fitly 
enlarge;  but  having  published  a  discourse  already  some 
years  ago,  under  the  title  of  Self-dedication  ;  (which  you 
ma}'  either  find  annexed  to  this,  or  have  apart  by  itself,  at 
your  own  choice;)  thither  I  refer  j-ou.  And  because  this 
must  be  a  livin?  temple  ;  there  is  also  another  extant,  upon 
these  words  :  Yield  ymirsclres  to  God.  as  those  that  are  alive 
frovi  the  dead.  That  also,  such  as  are  inclined  may.  through 
God's  gracious  assistiug  influence,  with  eyes  lift  up  to 
heaven,  peruse  unto  some  advantage. 

f  aipcaii  ftoi.    Isidor.  Telus.  L.  2.  Ep.  23«. 


THE  RECONCILEABLENESS  OF 


GOD'S    PRESCIENCE 


OF   THE    SINS    OF   MEN, 


WISDOM  AND  SINCERITY  OF  HIS  COUNSELS,  EXHORTATIONS,  AND  WHATSOEVER  MEANS 
HE  USES  TO  PREVENT  THEM. 

IN  A  LETTER  TO  THE  HON.  ROBERT  BOYLE,  Esq. 


TO   WHICH   IS   ADDED, 


A  POSTSCRIPT  IN  DEFENCE  OF  THE  SAID  LETTER. 


Sir, 


The  veneration  I  have  long  had  for  your  name,  could  not  permit  me  to  apprehend  less  obligation  than  that  of  a 
law,  in  your  recommending  to  me  this  subject.  For  within  the  whole  compass  of  intellectual  employment  and  affairs, 
none  but  who  are  so  unhappy  as  not  at  all  to  know  you,  would  dispute  your  right  to  prescribe,  and  give  law.  And 
taking  a  nearer  view  of  the  province  you  have  assigned  me,  I  must  esteem  it  alike  both  disingenuous  and  undutifnl, 
wholly  to  have  refused  it.  For  the  less  you  could  think  it  possible  to  me  to  perform  in  it,  the  more  I  might  perceive 
of  kindness  allaying  the  authority  of  the  imposition ;  and  have  the  apprehension  the  more  obvious  to  me  that  you 
rather  designed  in  it  mine  own  advantage,  than  that  you  reckoned  the  cause  could  receive  any,  by  my  undertaking  it. 
The  doubt,  I  well  know,  was  mentioned  by  you  as  other  men's,  and  not  your  own;  whose  clear  mind,  and  diligent 
inquiry,  leave  you  little  liable  to  be  encumbered  with  greater  difficulties.  "Wherefore  that  I  so  soon  divert  from  you, 
and  no  more  allow  these  papers  to  express  any  regard  unto  you,  till  the  shutting  of  the  discourse,  is  only  a  seeming 
iisrespeci  or  indecorum,  put  in  the  stead  of  a  real  one.  For  after  you  have  given  them  the  countenance,  as  to  let  it 
be  understood  you  gave  the  first  rise  and  occasion  to  the  business  and  design  of  them  ;  I  had  little  reason  to  slur  that 
stamp  put  upon  them,  by  adding  to  their  (enough  other)  faults,  that  of  making  them  guilty  of  so  great  a  misdemeanor 
and  impertinency,  as  to  continue  a  discourse  of  this  length,  to  one  that  hath  so  little  leisure  or  occasion  to  attend  to 
any  thing  can  be  said  by  them. 


Sect.  I.  What  there  is  of  difficulty  in  this  matter  I 
;annot  pretend  to  set  down  in  those  most  apt  expressions 
wherein  it  was  represented  to  me,  and  must  therefore  en- 
deavour to  supply  a  bad  memory  out  of  a  worse  invention. 
So  much  appears  very  obvious,  that  ascribing  to  the  ever 
blessed  God,  among  the  other  attributes  which  we  take  to 
belong  to  an  every  way  perfect  Being,  a  knowledge  so 
perfect  as  shall  admit  of  no  possible  accession  or  increase; 
and  consequently  the  prescience  of  all  future  events,  as 
whereof  we  doubt  him  not  to  have  the  distinct  knowledge 
when  they  shall  have  actually  come  to  pass.  Since  many 
of  those  events  are  the  sinful  actions  or  omissions  of  men, 
which  he  earnestly  counsels  and  warns  them  against ;  this 
matter  of  doubt  cannot  but  arise  hereupon,  viz.  "  How  it 
can  stand  with  the  wisdom  and  sincerity  which  our  own 
thoughts  do  by  the  earliest  anticipation  challenge  to  that 
ever  happy  Being,  to  use  these  (or  any  other  means)  with 
a  visible  design  to  prevent  that,  which  in  the  mean  time 
appears  to  that  all-seeing  eye  sure  to  come  to  pass."  So 
that,  by  this  representation  of  the  case,  there  seem  to  be 
committed  together, — either,  first,  God's  wisdom  with  this 
part  of  his  knowledge,  for  we  judge  it  not  to  consist  with 
the  wisdom  of  a  man,  to  design  and  pursue  an  end,  which 
he  foreknows  he  shall  never  attain  : — orsecondl3\  the  same 
foreknowledge  with  his  sincerity  and  uprightness,  that  he 
seems  intent  upon  an  end,  which  indeed  he  intends  not. 


The  matter  then  comes  shortly  to  this  sum.  Either  the 
holy  God  seriously  intends  the  prevention  of  .such  foreseen 
sinful  actions  and  omissions,  or  he  doth  not  intend  it.  If 
he  do,  his  wisdom  seems  liable  to  be  impleaded,  as  above. 
If  he  do  not,  his  uprightness  and  truth. 

My  purpose  is  not,  in  treating  of  this  affair,  to  move  a 
dispute  concerning  the  fitness  of  the  words  prescience  or 
foreknowledge,  or  to  trouble  this  discourse  with  notions  I 
understand  not,  of  the  indivisibility  and  unsuccessiveness 
of  eternal  duration,  whence  it  would  be  collected  there  can 
be  no  such  thing  as  first  or  second,  fore  or  after,  knowledge 
in  that  duration  ;  but  be  contented  to  speak  as  I  can  un- 
derstand, and  be  understood.  That  is,  to  call  that  fore- 
knowledge which  is  the  knowledge  of  somewhat  that  as 
yet  is  not,  but  that  shall  sometime  come  to  pass.  For  it 
were  a  mere  piece  of  legerdemain,  only  to  amuse  inquirers 
whom  one  would  pretend  to  satisfy  ;  or  to  fly  to  a  cloui 
for  refuge  from  the  force  of  an  argument,  and  avoid  ai 
occurring  difficulty  by  the  present  reliefless  shift  of  in 
volving  oneself  in  greater.  Nor  shall  I  design  to  mysel 
so  large  a  field  as  a  tractate  concerning  the  Divine  presci- 
ence :  so  as  to  be  obliged  to  discourse  particularly  what- 
soever may  be  thought  to  belong  to  that  theological  topic. 
But  confine  the  discourse  to  my  enjoined  subject.  And 
offer  only  such  considerations  as  may  some  way  tend  to 
expedite  or  alleviate  the  present  difficulty 


THE  RECONCILEABLEjS'ESS  OF  GOD'S  PRESCIENCE,  &c. 


115 


Sect.  II.  It  -were  one  of  the  greatest  injuries  to  religion, 
a  subversion  indeed  of  its  very  foundations,  and  tlian  by 
doing  which,  we  could  not  more  highly  gratify  atheistical 
minds,  instead,  and  under  pretence  of  ascribing  perfections 
to  the  nature  of  God,  to  ascribe  to  it  inconsistencies,  or  to 
give  a  self-repugnant  notion  of  that  adorable  Being,  the 
parts  whereot  should  justle  and  not  accord  with  one  ano- 
ther. And  yet  equal  care  is  to  be  taken,  lest  while  we  en- 
deavour to'  frame  a  consistent  notion  of  God,  we  reject 
from  it  any  thing  that  is  truly  a  perfection,  and  so  give  a 
maimed  one.  Whereby  we  should  undo  our  own  de.-;ign, 
and  by  our  over-much  caution  to  make  our  conception  of 
him  a^'ree  with  itself,  make  it  disagree  to  him.  For  to  an 
absolutely  perfect  being,  no  other  can  agree  than  that, 
which  not  only  is  not  made  up  of  contradictious ;  but  which 
also  comprehends  in  it  all  real  perfections  either  explicitly, 
or  which  leaves  room  for  all,  by  not  positively  excluding 
any  of  them.  Which  to  do,  and  afterwards  to  assign  that 
as  ihe  proper  notion  of  God,  -were  itself  the  greatest  con- 
tradiction. We  need  therefore  to  be  very  wary,  lest  we 
pronounce  too  hastily  concerning  any  thing,  which  to  oar 
most  sedate  thcugbls.  appears  simph^  a  perfection  in  itself, 
that  it  carries  with  it  a  repugnancy  to  somewhat  else,  ne- 
cessary to  be  ascribed  to  him. 

We  are  first  to  suspect  (as  there  is  greatest  cause)  and 
inquire  whether  the  ail  be  not  wholly  in  our  own  minds. 
Which  in  this  and  such  like  cases,  we  certainly  shall,  upon 
due  reflection,  find  labouring  under  the  natural  defect  of 
that  incomprehensive  narrowness  that  is,  in  some  degree, 
unavoidably  followed  with  confusion  and  indistinctness  of 
thoughts.  And  may  perhaps  find  cause  to  accuse  them  of 
the  more  culpable  evils,  both  of  slothfulness,  that  with- 
holds them  from  doing  what  they  can,  and  self-conceit,  by 
which  they  imagine  to  themselves  an  ability  of  doing  what 
they  cannot.  It  cannot  be  unobserved  by  them  that  have 
made  themselves  any  part  of  their  own  stud}"^,  that  it  is 
very  incident  to  our  minds,  to  grasp  at  more  than  they 
can  compass  ;  and  then,  through  their  own  scantiness,  (like 
the  little  hand  of  a  child,)  to  throw  away  one  thing  that 
hath  pleased  us,  to  make  room  for  another,  because  we 
cannot  comprehend  boih  together.  It  is  not  strange,  that 
our  so  straitly  limited  understandings  should  not  be  able 
to  lodge  commodiously  the  immense  perfections  of  a  Deity ; 
so  as  to  allow  them  liberty  to  spread  themselves  in  our 
thoughts  in  their  entire  proportions.  And  because  Ave  can- 
not, we  complain,  when  we  feel  ourselves  a  little  pinched 
that  the  things  will  not  consist ;  when  the  matter  is,  that 
we  have  unduly  crowded  and  huddled  them  up  together,  in 
our  incomprehensive  minds,  that  have  not  distinctly  con- 
ceived I  hem. 

And  though  this  consideration  should  not  be  used  for  the 
protection  of  an  usurped  liberty  of  fastening  upon  God, 
arbitrarily  and  at  random,  what  we  please;  (as  indeed  what 
so  gross  absurdity  might  not  any  one  give  shelter  to  by  such 
a  misapplication  of  it  1)  we  ought  yet  to  think  it  seasona- 
bly applied,  when  we  find  ourselves  urged  with  difficulties 
on  one  hand  and  the  other  ;  and  apprehend  it  hard,  with 
clearness  and  satisfaction,  to  ascribe  to  God,  what  we  also 
find  it  not  easy  not  to  ascribe.  Nor  would  it  be  less  unfit 
to  apply  it  for  "the  patronage  of  that  slothfulness  wherein 
our  discouraged  minds  are  sometimes  too  prone  to  indulge 
themselves.  To  which  purpose  I  remember  somewhat  verv 
apposite  in  Minucius  Felix,  that  many,  through  the  mere 
tediousness  of  finding  out  the  truth,  do  rather,  by  a  mean 
succumbency,  yield  to  the  first  specious  show  of  any  opin- 
ion whatsoever,  than  be  at  the  trouble,  by  a  pertinacious 
diligence,  of  applying  themselves  to  a  thorough  search. 
Thotigh  the  comprehension  of  our  minds  be  not  infinite, 
it  might  be  extended  much  further  than  usually  it  is,  if  we 
would  allow  ourselves  with  patient  diligence  to  consider 
things  at  leisure,  and  so  as  gradually  to  stretch  and  en- 
large our  own  understandings.  Many  things  have  car- 
ried the  appearance  of  contradiction  and  in-consistency, 
to  the  first  view  of  our  straitened  minds,  which  afterwards 
wc  have,  upon  repeated  consideration  and  endeavour, 
found  room  for,  and  been  able  to  make  fairly  accord,  and 
lodge  together. 

Especially  we  should  take  heed  lest  it  be  excluded  by 
over-much  conceitedness,  and  a  self-arrogating  pride,  that 
disdains  to  be  thought  not  able  to  see  through  every  thin?. 


by  the  first  and  slightest  glance  of  a  haughty  eye;  and 
peremptorily  determines  that  to  be  unintelligible,  that  an 
arrogant  and  uninstrucled  mind,  hath  only  not  humility 
enough  to  acknowledge  difficult  to  be  understood.  Whence 
it  is  too  possible  some  may  be  over-prone  to  detract  from 
God  what  really  belongs  to  him,  lest  any  thing  should  seem 
detracted  from  themselves,  and  impute  imperfections  to 
him  rather  than  confess  their  own.  And  may  be  so  over- 
ascribing  to  themselves,  a.s  to  reckon  it  a  disparagement 
not  to  be  endured,  to  seem  a  little  puzzled  for  the  present, 
to  be  put  to  pause,  and  draw  breath  awhile,  and  look  into 
the  matter  again  and  again;  which  if  their  humility  and 
patience  would  enable  them  to  do,  it  is  not  likely  that  the 
Author  of  our  faculties  would  be  unassisting  to  them,  in 
those  our  inquiries  which  concern  our  duty  towards  him- 
self. For  though  in  matters  of  mere  speculation,  we  may 
be  encountered  with  difficulties,  whereof  perhaps  no  mor- 
tal can  ever  be  able  to  find  out  the  solution,  (which  is  nc 
great  prejudice,  and  may  be  gainful  and  instructive  to  us,^ 
yet  as  to  what  concerns  the  object  of  our  religion,  it  is  tc 
be  hoped  we  are  not  left  in  unextricable  entanglements; 
nor  should  think  we  are  till  Ave  have  made  our  utmost 
trial.  The  design  being  not  to  gra'iiy  our  curiosity,  but 
to  relieve  ourselves  of  uncomfortable  doubtfulness  in  the 
matter  of  our  worship,  and  (in  a  dutiful  zeal  towards 
the  blessed  object  thereof)  to  vindicate  it  against  the  cavils 
of  ill-minded  men. 

Sect.  III.  But  if  the  nnsucce.s.sfulness  of  often  repeated 
endeavours  make  us  despair  of  being  able,  with  so  full  sa- 
tisfaction, to  reconcile  some  things  which  we  haA^e  thought 
were  to  be  attributed  to  God  ;  it  will  be  some  relief  to  us, 
if  we  find  the  things  about  which  the  doubt  lies,  are  not 
of  the  same  order,  nor  such  as  with  equal  eA-idence  and 
necessity  are  to  be  affirmed  of  him.  And  when  we  make 
a  comparison,  we  maA'  find  ourselves  at  a  certainty  con- 
cerning those  his  attributes  Avhich  most  commonh',  and  at 
the  first  view,  approA-e  themseh-es  to  eA'ery  man's  under- 
standing. Among  Avhich  Ave  little  hesitate,  (as  we  are 
most  concerned  not  to  do,)  about  those  which  carr)'  with 
them  the  import  of  moral  goodness;  and  which  renderlhe 
object  of  our  religion,  at  once,  both  most  A'encrable  and 
loA'ely.  For  none  do  more  naturally  obtain  for  common 
notions  concerning  him  ;  so  as  even  to  preA-ent  ratiocina- 
tion or  argument,  with  Avhomsoever  the  apprehension  ol 
his  existence  hath  place. 

Every  man's  mind,  it  being  once  acknowledged  that 
there  is  a  God,  refuses  to  conceive  otherwise  of  him,  than 
that  he  is  hol)^,  just,  merciful,  true,  &c.  and  rejects  with 
abhorrence  the  notion  of  an  impure,  unrighteous,  crnel, 
deceitful  Deity.  As  for  those  that,  by  a  long  train  of  our 
own  more  uncertain  and  lubricous  reasonings,  we  endea- 
vour to  deduce ;  if  we  find  ourselves  constrained  any 
Avhere  to  admit  a  diffidence,  it  were  rather  to  be  placed 
here.  For  it  is  at  first  sight  eA'idenl,  since  God  is  most 
certainly  willing  to  be  knoA\Ti  of  them  that  are  sincerely 
willing  to  knoAv  him  ;  that  what  is  a  natural  impression 
stamped  by  his  oAvn  hand  on  every  man's  mind,  hath  more 
of  absolute  certainty,  tlian  Avhat  depends  on  metaphysi- 
cal subtlety  ;  whereof  so  A'erv  feAv  are  capable,  and  Avhereby 
diA'ers  pretenders  thereto,  do  so  frequently  (and  perhaps 
A^ery  dangerously)  insnare  themseh-es.  And  it  is  of  far 
greater  importance,  such  a  notion  of  God  be  entertained, 
as  Avherebv  he  may  be  rendered  amiable,  and  an  inviting 
object  of  love,  (the  very  life  and  soul  of  all  religion.)  than 
such  as  shall  be  the  result,  and  entertainment,  only  of 
scholastic  Avit. 

Yet  also,  since  it  is  A^ery  manifest  that  man  is  now  be- 
come a  degenerate  creature,  and  in  an  apostacA'  from  God, 
he  is  A'ery  little  to  be  trusted  Aviih  the  framing  his  own 
idea  of  him  ;  being  certainly  most  unapt  to  alloAV  any 
thing  a  place  in  it,  that  Avould  haA-e  an  unfavourable  as- 
pect upon  his  vicious  inclinations  and  his  guilty  state. 
And  the  contaofion  of  man's  sinfulness  having  spread  itself 
as  far  as  he  hath  propagated  his  oAvn  nature ;  so  as  no 
notion  in  his  mind  can  be  more  common  than  the  perver- 
sion and  distemper  of  his  mind  itself;  the  possibility  and 
danger  is  very  obvious,  of  mistaking  a  dictate  of  depraA-ed 
nature  for  an  authentic  con^mon  notion.  And  though 
these  are  not  impossible  to  be  distinguished,  and  in  some 
cases  very  easy,  as  Avhen  men  fmd  it  imposed  unavoidably^ 


116 


1  tIE  RECONCILEABLENESS 


upon  them,  to  apprehend  and  acknowledge  some  things 
which  they  are  very  unwilling  should  be  true,  (in  which 
case  their  sentiments  have  the  same  right  to  be  believed 
as  the  testimony  of  an  enemy  on  the  opposite  parly's  be- 
half,) we  have  yet  no  reason  to  neglect  any  other  means, 
whereby  we  may  be  more  certainly  directed  how  to  con- 
ceive of  God,  or  what  we  are  to  attribute  to  him,  and 
what  not. 

Sect.  IV.  Nor  can  we  be  at  a  greater  certainty,  than  in 
admitting  such  things  to  belong  to  the  blessed  God  as  he 
plainly  affirms  of  himself;  or  any  way,  by  his  word,  evi- 
dently discovers  to  belong  to  him.  For  as  none  knows  the 
things  of  man,  but  the  spirit  of  man  that  is  in  him,  so  the 
things  of  God  are  known  to  none  but  the  Spirit  of  God.  » 
Taking  therefore  his  own  word  for  our  measure  in  the 
present  case,  (which  I  will  suppose  the  reader  not  to  think 
it  unreasonable  to  appeal  to ;  and  what  is  here  said,  is  in- 
tended only  for  those  that  have  that  estimate  of  the  wri- 
tings wont  to  go  under  that  name,)  what  it  says  of  him 
(much  more  what  it  proves)  will  no  doubt  be  admitted  for 
certain  truth.  Though,  if  it  say  such  things,  as,  to  us, 
seem  not  so  manifestly  to  agree  with  one  another,  our  en- 
deavour must  be  the  more  earnest  and  solicitous  (as  also 
it  ought  to  be  the  more  modest)  to  discuss,  and  remove  the 
cj'di/rioc/iai'/s  or  whatsoever  semblance  of  disagreement.  And 
whosoever  concern  themselves  to  peru.se  that  venerable 
book,  will  find  every  where,  on  the  one  hand,  proclaimed 
and  magnified  in  it,  (what  our  own  minds  cannot  but  have 
been  pre-posse.ssed  of,)  the  most  exquisite  wisdom  of  God, 
whereby  he  forms  and  contrives  the  methods  of  all  his  dis- 
pensations, and  disposes  them  in  the  aptest  subserviency 
to  his  own  great  and  most  important  ends:  that  "all  his 
ways  are  judgment,"  b  and  that  he  '' worketh  all  things  ac- 
cording to  the  counsel  of  his  will.'o  In  sum,  that  all  wis- 
dom is  appropriated  to  him,  that  he  is  celebrated  in  the 
style  of  "  God,  only  vvi.se."  d  Nor  are  we  therefore  to  think 
it  strange,  if,  many  times,  we  are  not  able  to  trace  him  out, 
or  understand  the  reason  of  every  thing  he  thinks  fit  to  do. 
For  the  paths  of  the  more  perfect  wisdom,  must  therefore 
be  expected  to  be  the  mor';  abstruse,  and  remoter  from 
common  apprehension. 

How  ofien  do  we  find  ourselves  so  far  outgone  by  wise 
and  designing  men,  as  that  we  are  sometimes  constrained 
to  confess  and  admire  their  great  prudence  and  conduct 
(when  they  have  efl^ected  their  purposes)  in  those  manage- 
ments, which  we  have  before  beheld,  either  with  silent  ig- 
norance, or  perhaps,  not  without  censure.  How  much  less 
should  the  wisest  of  men  regret  it,  to  find  all  their  con- 
jectures exceeded  by  the  infinite  wisdom  :  in  the  contem- 
plation whereof,  we  find  the  great  apostle  (notwithstand- 
ing the  vast  capacity  of  his  divinely  enlightened  un- 
derstanding) exclaiming  in  a  transport,  O  the  depths  !  "^ 
And  when  our  eyes  tell  us,  from  so  manifest  stupendous 
effects,  how  far  we  are  exceeded  by  him  in  power,  it  were 
reasonable  to  expect  he  should  surpass  us  proportionably 
in  the  contrivances  of  his  wisdom  also.  And  whereas 
the  conjimction  is  rare,  among  men,  of  deep  political  wis- 
dom with  integrity  and  strict  righteousness;  this  proceeds 
from  the  imperfection  and  insuflficiency  of  the  former  in 
great  part,  that  they  know  not  how  to  compass  their  de- 
signs, unless  often,  by  supplying  their  want  of  wisdom, 
out  of  the  spoil  and  violation  of  their  justice  and  honesty. 
Otherwise,  these  are  things  not  altogether  so  out  of  credit 
in  the  world,  but  that  men  would  rather  accomplish  their 
purposes  bj'  fair  and  unexceptionable  means,  if  they  could 
tell  how.  Only  the  respect  and  deference  they  have  for 
them  is  less,  than  what  they  bear  to  their  own  interests 
and  ends. 

But  besides  the  natural,  inflexible  rectitude  of  the  Di- 
vine will,  we  are  secured, from  his  all-sufficiency,  that  we 
shall  never  be  fraudulently  impo.sed  upon  by  any  of  his 
declarations  unto  the  children  of  men.  For  there  is  no- 
thing to  be  gained  by  it:  and  we  cannot  conceive  what 
inducement  he  should  have,  to  make  use  of  any  so  mean 
and  pitiful  shiAs  for  the  governing  of  his  creatures,  whom 
he  spontaneously  raised  out  of  notliing,  and  hath  so  per- 
fectly Avithin  his  power.     Unless  we  should  be  so  most 


a  1  Cor.  ii.  II.  b  Dent,  xxxii. 

il  T^mn    XV  i   lilt.  e  Roni.  \'.  33. 

K  Isa.  xin.  9, 10.  with  chap,  xl'    22  23. 


cEph.  in. 
f  Psol.  xi.  7. 


intolerably  injurious  to  him,  as  to  imagine  a  worse  thing 
of  him  than  we  would  of  the  worst  of  men,  that  he  loved 
falsehood  for  its  own  sake.  And  that  against  his  so  con- 
stantly professed  detestation  of  it,  the  declared  repugnan- 
cy of  it  to  his  nature,  and  the  even  tenor  of  his  word  (eve- 
ry where  agreeing  with  itself  herein)  so  often  describing 
him  by  that  property,  "God  that  cannot  lie."  And,  with 
the  same  positiveness,  avowing  his  own  uprightness,  and 
requiring  it,  expressing  his  great  love  to  it,  and  the  high 
delight  he  takes  to  find  it,  in  his  intelligent  creatures. 
The  righteous  God  loveth  righteousness,  and  with  his 
countenance  doth  he  behold  the  upright,  f  Nor  is  his  tes- 
timony the  less  to  be  regarded  for  that  it  is  laudatory,  and 
of  himself.  For  we  are  to  consider  the  prerogative  of  him 
that  testifies,  and  that  if  he  were  not  avrd-nTus  he  were  not 
God.  Besides  that  his  giving  us  this  or  any  repiesentation 
of  himself  (to  whom  it  were  enough  to  enjoy  his  own  per- 
fections) is  a  vouchsafement,  and  done  of  mere  grace  and 
favour  to  us,  that  we  may  by  it  be  induced  to  place  with 
satisfaction  our  unsuspicious  trust  and  confidence  in  him. 
As  also,  that  he  says  in  all  this,  no  other  thing  of  himself, 
than  what  our  own  minds,  considering  him  as  God,  must 
acknowledge  most  worthy  of  him,  and  agreeing  to  tiim 
with  the  most  apparent  necessity.  This  part,  therefore,  of 
the  idea  of  God  hath  so  firm  a  foundation,  both  in  the  na- 
tural complexion  of  our  own  minds,  and  the  report  which 
his  word  makes  of  him,  that  on  this  hand  we  are  hemmed 
in  as  by  a  Avail  of  adamant  :  and  cannot  have  the  thought 
of  defending  his  prescience,  by  intrenching  upon  his  wis- 
dom and  truth,  without  offering  the  highest  violence  both  to 
him  and  ourselves. 

Sect.  V.  On  the  other  hand  also,  as  it  cannot  but  seem 
to  us  a  higher  perfection  to  know  all  things  at  once,  than 
gradually  to  arrive  to  the  knowledge  of  one  thing  afler  an- 
other; and  so  proceed  from  the  ignorance  of  some  things 
to  the  knowledge  of  them  ;  and  that  nothing  is  more  cer- 
tain, than  that  all  possible  perfection  must  agree  to  God ; 
so  we  find  his  own  word  asserting  to  him  that  most  perfect 
knowledge  which  seems  to  exclude  the  possibility  of  in- 
crease ;  or  that  any  thing  should  succeed  into  his  know- 
ledge. For  how  plainly  is  it  affirmed  of  him  that  he 
knows  all  things.  And  even  concerning  .such  future  things 
as  about  which  our  present  inquiry  is  conversant,  the  affir- 
mation is  express  and  positive.  I  am  God,  and  there  is 
none  like  me,  declaring  the  end  from  the  beginning,  and 
from  ancient  times  the  things  that  are  not  yet  done.e  Nor 
is  the  affirmation  naked,  and  unfortified.  For  in  the  same 
sacred  records,  we  hav'e  the  same  thing  both  affirmed,  and 
proved:  inasmuch  as  we  find,  in  a  great  part  thereof,  are 
contained  things  foretold  by  most  express  prophecy,  unto 
which  the  events  recorded  in  other  parts  (and  many  of 
them  in  other  unquestioned  writings  besides)  have  so 
punctually  corresponded,  as  to  leave  no  place  for  doubt 
or  cavil.  Instances  are  so  plain  and  well  known  that  they 
need  not  be  mentioned.  And  surely  what  was  so  expressly 
foretold  could  not  but  have  been  foreknown.  It  seems 
then  an  attempt  also  eqitally  hopeless  and  unrelieving,  as 
it  were  adventurous  and  bold,  to  offer  at  the  protection  ol 
his  Avisdom  and  sincerity,  by  assaulting  his  prescience  or 
certain  foreknowledge  of  whatsoever  shall  come  to  pass. 
And  that  their  defence  is  not  to  be  attempted  this  way, 
Avill  further  most  evidently  appear  from  hence,  that  it  is 
not  impossible  to  assign  particular  instances  of  some  or 
othermost  confessedly  wicked  actions;  against  which  God 
had  directed  those  ordinary  means  of  counselling  and  de- 
horting  men,  and  which  yet  it  is  most  certain  he  did  fore- 
knoAV  they  would  do.  As  though  it  was  so  punctually 
determined  evenh  to  a  day,  and  was  (though  not  so  punc- 
tually i)  foretold  unto  Abraham,  how  long,  from  that  time, k 
his  seed  should  be  strangers  in  a  land  that  was  not  theirs; 
yet  how  frequent  are  the  counsels  and  warnings  sent  to 
Pharaoh  to  dismiss  them  sooner;  yea,  how  often  are  Moses 
and  Aaron  directed  to  claim  their  liberty,  and  exhort  Pha- 
raoh to  let  them  go,  and  at  the  same  time  told,  i  he  should 
not  hearken  to  them.  Nor  indeed  is  it  more  seldom  said 
that  the  Lord  hardened  Pharaoh's  heart,  lest  he  should. 
Though  it  ma}'  be  a  doubt  Avhether  those  passages  be  truly 

h  Exod.  xi.  41.  i  Gen,  xv  3. 

k  What  tlierp  is  of  difficulty  or  doubt  about  llii«  propliecj',  sec  fully  cleared  in 
the  late  letter  to  the  Deist.  1  Ejod  iv.  &c. 


OF  GOD'S  PRESCIENCE,  &c. 


117 


translated;  for  the  gentler  meaning  of  the  Hebrew  idiom 
being  well  known,  it  would  seem  more  agreeable  to  the 
text,  to  have  expressed  only  the  intended  sense,  than  to 
have  strained  a  word  to  the  very  utmost  of  its  literal  im- 
port, and  manifestly  beyond  what  was  intended.  After 
the  like  manner  is  the  prophet  Ezekiel  sent  to  the  revolted 
Israelites.  And  directed  to  speak  to  them  with  God's 
own  words,  the  sum  and  purport  whereof  was  to  warn 
and  dehort  them  from  their  wicked  ways  lest  they  should 
die;  when  as  yet  it  is  plainly  told  him,  but  the  house  of 
Israel  will  not  hearken  to  thee,  for  they  will  not  hearken 
to  me.™  Unto  which  .same  purpose  it  is  more  pertinent, 
than  necessary  to  be  added,  that  our  Saviour's  own  plain 
a-ssertions  that  he  was  the  Son  of  God,  the  many  miracles 
by  which  he  confirmed  it,  and  his  frequent  exhortations  to 
the  Jews  to  believe  in  him  thereupon,  had  a  manifest  ten- 
dency to  make  him  be  known  and  believed  to  be  so,  and 
consequently  to  prevent  that  most  horrid  act  of  his  cruci- 
fixion; for  it  is  said,  and  the  matter  speaks  itself,  that,  if 
they  had  known  they  would  not  have  crucified  the  Lord 
of  glory:"  notwithstanding  that  it  was  a  thing  which 
God's  hand  and  counsel  had  determined  before  to  be  done.° 
That  is,  foreseeing  wicked  hands  would  be  prompted  and 
ready  for  this  tragic  enterprise,  his  sovereign  power  and 
wise  counsel  concurred  with  his  foreknowledge  so  only, 
and  not  with  less  latitude,  to  define  or  determine  the 
bounds  and  limits  of  that  malignity,  than  to  let  it  proceed 
unto  this  execution.  And  to  deliver  him  up  (not  by  any 
formal  resignation,  or  surrender,  as  Ave  well  know,  but  per- 
mitting him)  thereunto.  Though  the  same  phrase  of  de- 
livering him  hath,  elsewhere,  another  notion,  of  assigning 
or  appointing  him  to  be  a  propitiation  for  the  sins  of  men, 
by  dying;  which  was  done  by  mutual  agreement  between 
both  the  parties,  him  that  was  to  propitiate,  and  him  who 
was  to  be  propitiated.  In  which  respect  our  Saviour  is 
also  said  to  have  given  himself  for  the  same  purpose;? 
which  purpose  it  was  determined  not  to  hinder  prepared 
hands  to  execute  in  this  way. 

Now  if  it  did  appear  but  in  one  single  instance  only,  that 
the  blessed  God  did  foreknow,  and  dehort  from  the  same 
act,  it  will  be  plainly  consequent,  that  his  warnings,  and 
dehortations  from  wicked  actions  in  the  general,  can  with 
no  pretence  be  alleged  as  a  proof  against  his  universal  pre- 
science. For  if  the  argument,  he  dehorted  from  the  doing 
such  an  action,  therefore  he  did  not  foreknow  it,  would  be 
able  to  conclude  any  thing,  it  must  be  of  suflicient  force  to 
conclude  universally;  which  it  cannot  do,  if  but  a  single 
instance  can  be  given,  wherein  it  is  apparent  he  did  both 
dehort  and  foreknow.  It  can  only  pretend  to  raise  the 
doubt  which  we  have  in  hand  to  discuss,  how  fitly,  and 
with  what  wisdom  and  sincerity,  he  can  be  understood  to 
interpose  his  counsels  and  monitions  in  such  a  case. 

Sect.  VI.  Wherefore  nothing  remains  but  to  consider 
how  these  may  be  reconciled,  and  niTade  appear  to  be  no 
way  in  onsistent  with  one  another.  Nor  are  we  to  appre- 
hend herein  so  great  a  diificulty,  as  it  were  to  reconcile 
his  irresistible  pre-determinative  concurrence  to  all  actions 
of  the  creature,  even  those  that  are  in  themselves  most 
malis:nantly  wicked,  with  the  wisdom  and  righteousness 
of  his  laws  against  them,  and  severest  punishments  of  them 
according  to  those  laws.  Which  sentiments  must,  I  con- 
ceive, to  any  impartial  understanding,  leave  it  no  way  suf- 
ficiently explicable,  how  the  influence  and  concurrence, 
the  holy  God  hath  to  the  worst  of  actions,  is  to  be  distin- 
guished from  that  which  he  affords  to  the  best;  wherein 
such  inherently  evil  actions  are  less  to  be  imputed  to  him 
who  forbids  them,  than  to  the  malicious  tempter  who 
prompts  to  them,  or  the  actor  that  does  them  ;  or  ^'herein 
not  a  great  deal  more.  And  leave  it  imdeniable,  that  the 
matter  of  all  his  laws,  in  reference  to  all  .such  actions  that 
ever  have  been  done  in  the  world,  was  a  simple  and  most 
natural  impossibilit}\  Nothing  being  more  apparently  so, 
than  either  not  to  do  an  action  whereto  the  agent  is  deter- 
mined by  an  infinite  power;  or  to  separate  the  malignity 
thereof,  from  an  intrinsically  evil  action;  and  that  this 
natural  impossibility  of  not  sinning  was  the  ineluctable 
fate  of  his  (at  first)  innocent  creatures.  Who  also  (as  the 
case  IS  to  be  conceived  of  with  the  angels  that  kept  not 
their  first  station)  must  be  understood  irreversibly  con- 

m  Ezek.  iii.  4.  n  1  Cor.  ii. 

12 


demned  to  the  suffering  of  eternal  punishment,  for  the 
doing  of  what  it  wa.s  (upon  these  terms)  so  absolutely 
impossible  to  them  to  avoid. 

Sect.  VII.  niis  too  hard  province  the  present  design 
pretends  not  to  intermeddle  in,  as  being  neither  appre- 
hended manageable,  for  those  briefly  mentioned  considera- 
tions, and  many  more  that  are  wont  to  be  insisted  on  in 
this  argument. 

Nor  indeed  at  all  necessary;  for  though  many  consider- 
ations have  been,  with  great  subtlety,  alleged  and  urged  to 
this  purpose,  by  former  and  some  modern  writers,  (which 
it  is  besides  the  design  of  these  papers  severally  to  discuss,) 
these  two,  which  seem  the  most  importunate  and  enforc- 
ing, will,  I  conceive,  be  found  of  little  force;  and  then, 
the  le.ss  strength  which  is  in  others,  will  Ije  nothing  for- 
midable :  viz.  that  it  necessarily  belongs  to  the  Original 
and  Fountain  Being,  to  be  the  first  Cause  of  whatsoever 
being;  and  consequently  that  what  there  is  of  positive 
being  in  any  the  most  wicked  action,  must  pi  incipally  owe 
it.self  to  the  determinative  productive  influence  of  this  first 
and  sovereign  Cause.  Otherwise  it  would  seem  there 
were  some  being  that  were  neither  primum,  nor  a  prinio. 

And  again,  (which  we  are  more  concerned  to  consider, 
because  it  more  concerns  our  present  subject,)  that  it  were 
otherwise  impossible  God  should  foreknow  the  sinful  ac- 
tions of  men,  (many  whereof,  as  hath  been  observed,  he 
hath  foretold,)  if  their  futurition  were  a  mere  contingency, 
and  depended  on  the  uncertain  will  of  the  subordinate 
agent,  not  determined  by  the  .'supreme.  But  neither  of 
these  seem  able  to  infer  tlie  dismal  conclusion  of  God's  con- 
curring by  a  determinative  influence  unto  wicked  actions. 
Not  the  former :  for  it  may  well  be  thought  suflicienlly 
to  salve  the  rights  and  privileges  of  the  first  Cause,  to 
assert  that  no  action  can  be  done  but  by  a  power  derived 
from  it;  which  in  reference  to  forbidden  actions,  intelli- 
gent creatures  may  use  or  not  use  as  they  please,  without 
over-asserting,  that  they  must  be  irresistibly  determined 
also,  even  to  the  worst  of  actions  done  by  them.  Besides 
that  it  seems  infinitely  to  detract  from  the  perfection  of  the 
ever-blessed  God,  to  affirm  he  was  not  able  to  make  a 
creature,  of  such  a  nature,  as,  being  continualh'  sustained 
by  him,  and  supplied  with  power  every  moment  suitable 
to  its  nature,  should  be  capable  of  acting  unless  whatso- 
ever he  thus  enables,  he  determine  (that  is,  for  it  can 
mean  no  less  thing,  impel  it  to  do  also.  And  except  it 
were  afiirmed  impossible  to  God  to  have  made  such  a 
creature,  (that  is,  that  it  implied  a  contradiction,  which 
certainly  can  never  be  proved.)  there  is  no  imaginable  pre- 
tence why  it  should  not  be  admitted  he  hath  done  it ; 
rather  than  so  fatally  expose  the  wisdom,  goodness,  and 
righteousness  of  God,'  by  supposing  him  to  have  made  laws 
for  his  reasonable  creatures,  impossible,  through  his  own 
irresistible  counter-action,  to  be  observed  ;  and  afterwards 
to  express  himself  displeased,  and  adjudge  his  creatures  to 
eternal  punishments,  for  not  observing  them. 

I  am  not  altogether  ignorant  what  attempts  have  been 
made  to  prove  if  impossible,  nor  again,  what  hath  been 
done  to  manifest  the  vanity  of  those  attempts.  But  I 
must  confess  a  greater  disposition  to  wonder,  that  ever 
such  a  thing  should  be  di.spuled,  than  dispute  so  plain  a 
case.  And  that  a  matter  whereupon  all  moral  government 
depends,  both  human  and  divine,  should  not  have  been 
determined  at  the  first  sight.  'Tis  not  hard  for  a  good  wit 
to  have  somewhat  to  .say  for  any  thing.  But  to  dispute 
against  the  common  sense  of  mankind,  we  know  before- 
hand, is  but  to  trifle ;  as  the  essay  to  prove  the  impossi- 
bility of  local  motion.  The  notion  of  the  goodness  and 
righteousness  of  God,  methinks,  should  stick  so  close  to 
our  minds,  and  create  such  a  sense  in  our  souls,  as  should 
be  infinitelv  dearer  to  us  than  all  our  senses  and  powers. 
And  that  we  should  rather  choose  to  have  our  sight,  hear- 
ing, and  motive  power,  or  what  not  besides  disputed,  or 
even  torn  away  t'rom  us,  than  ever  .suffer  ourselves  to  be 
disputed  into  a  belief,  that  the  holy  and  good  God  should 
irresistiblv  determine  the  wills  of  men  to.  and  punish,  the 
same  thing.  Nor  is  it  difficult  to  urge  more  puzzling  so- 
phisms as:ainst  the  former,  than  for  tliis  latter.  But  the 
efforts  of  a  sophistical  wit  against  sense,  and  more  against 
the  sense  of  our  souls,  and  most  of  all  against  the  entire 

o  Acts  iv.  23.  P  Tit,  ii.  H. 


118 


THE  RECONCILEAELENESS 


sum  and  substance  of  all  morality  and  religion,  at  once, 
are  but  like  the  attempt  to  batter  a  wall  of  brass  with 
straws  and  feathers,  Kor  is  the  assault,  on  this  part,  more 
feeble  and  impotent,  than  the  defence  is  wont  to  be  of  the 
other.  For  I  would  appeal  to  the  quick  refined  sense  of 
any  sober  and  pious  mind,  after  serious,  inward  consulta- 
tion with  itself;  being  closely  urged,  with  the  horror  of  so 
black  a  conception  of  God,  that  he  should  be  supposed 
irresistibly  to  determine  the  will  of  a  man  to  the  hatred  of 
his  own  most  blessed  self,  and  then  to  exact  severest  pmiish- 
ments  for  the  offence  done,  what  relief  it  would  now  be  to 
it,  to  be  only  taught  to  reply,  that  man  is  under  the  law, 
and  God  above  it.  A  defence  that  doubles  the  Ibrce  of  the 
assault.  What !  that  God  should  make  a  law,  and  neces- 
sitate the  violation  of  it !  and  yet  also  punish  that  violation  ! 
And  this  be  thought  a  sufficient  salvo,  that  himself  is  not 
subject  to  any  law !  Will  a  quick-scenled,  tender  spirit, 
w^ormded  by  so  unsutferable  indignity,  offered  to  the  holy 
God,  be  any  whit  eased  or  relieved,  by  the  thin  sophistry 
of  only  a  collusive  ambiguity  in  the  word  law  ]  which 
sometimes  signifies  the  declared  pleasure  of  a  ruler  to  a 
subject,  in  which  sense  any  eye  can  see  God  can  be  under 
no  law,  having  no  superior.  But  not  seldom,  also,  an 
habitual  fixed  principle  and  rule  of  acting  after  one  steady 
tenor.  In  which  sense  how  manifest  is  it,  that  the  perfect 
jectitude  of  God's  own  holy  gracious  nature  is  an  eternal 
law  to  him,  infinitely  more  stable,  and  immutable,  than 
the  ordinances  of  day  and  night !  Or  what  relief  is  there 
in  that  dream  of  the  supposed  possibility  of  God's  making 
a  reasonable  creature Avith  an  innocent  aversion  to  himself? 
For  what  can  be  supposed  more  repugnant  1  or  what  more 
impertinent '?  If  innocent,  how  were  it  punishable  7  A  law 
already  made  in  the  case,  how  can  it  be  innocent  1 

But  whatsoever  strength  there  may  be  in  arguments, 
and  replies,  to  and  fro,  in  this  matter ;  that  which  hath  too 
apparently  had  greatest  actual  efficacy,  with  many,  hath 
been  the  authority  and  name  of  this  or  that  man  of  repu- 
tation, and  the  force  of  that  art  of  imputing  a  doctrine, 
already  under  a  prejudicial  doom,  to  some  or  other  ill-re- 
puted former  writer.  I  profess  not  to  be  skilled  in  the  use 
of  that  sort  of  weapons.  And  what  reputation  ought  to  be 
of  so  great  value  with  us,  as  that  of  God  and  religion  1 
Though  if  one  would  take  that  invidious  course,  it  were 
easy  to  evince,  that  such  a  predeterminative  influx  to  the 
production  of  all  whatsoever  actions,  is  the  dearly  espoused 
notion  of  one,  of  as  deservedly  an  ill  character,  as  ever 
had  the  name  of  a  Christian  writer.  And  whether  he 
would  not  take  that  name  for  a  dishonour  to  him,  I  pre- 
tend not  to  know.  But  let  us  take  this  sober  account  of 
the  present  case,  that  in  this  temporary  state  of  trial,  the 
efficacious  grace  of  God  is  necessary  to  actions  sincerely 
good  and  holy  ;  which  therefore  all  ought  undespairingly 
to  seek  and  pray  for.  But  that  in  reference  to  other  ac- 
tions, he  doth  only  supply  men  with  such  a  power,  as 
whereby  they  are  enabled,  either  to  act,  or,  in  many  in- 
stances, (and  especially  when  they  attempt  any  thing  that 
is  evil,)  to  suspend  their  own  action.  And  surely  it  carries 
so  unexceptionable  a  face  and  aspect  with  it,  that  no  man 
that  is  himself  sober,  vWll  think  the  worst  name,  of  who- 
soever shall  have  said  the  same  thing,  were  a  prejudice  to 
it ;  or  should  more  oblige  him  to  reject  it,  than  we  would 
think  ourselves  obliged  to  throw  away  gold,  or  diamonds, 
because  an  impure  hand  hath  touched  them ;  or  to  deny 
Christ,  because  the  devils  confessed  him.  Though  also,  if 
any  should  impute  the  so  stating  of  this  matter  to  any 
author,  that  hath  been  wont  to  go  under  an  ill  name  and 
character,  in  the  Christian  church ;  there  were  a  great  over- 
sight committed  ;  to  say  no  harder  thing  of  it.  For  the 
writers  whose  names  would  be  supposed  a  prejudice,  have 
neither  said  the  same  thing,  nor  with  the  same  design. 
They  would  have  this  indetermination  of  the  power  afforded 
to  the  creature,  to  be  so  universal,  as  to  extend  equally  to 
evil  actions  and  to  good.  And  have  asserted  it  with  a 
manifest  design  to  exclude  efficacious  grace,  in  reference 
to  the  best  actions.  Whereas  this  account  would  make  it 
not  of  so  large  extent:  (as  it  were  very  unreasonable  any 
«.hould;)  for  though  it  may  well  be  supposed  extendible 
to  many  actions,  besides  those  that  are  intrinsically  evil,  or 
to  any  "that  are  not  spiritually  good,  yet  nothing  enforces 
(nor  can  it  be  admitted)  that  it  should  actually  and  always 


extend  so  far.  For  who  can  doubt  but  God  can  overrule 
the  inclinations  and  actions  of  his  creature,  when  he 
pleases;  and,  as  shall  best  consist  with  his  wisdom,  and 
the  purity  of  his  natiire,  either  lay  on  or  take  ofi"  his  de- 
termining hand.  Nor  is  it  here  asserted  with  any  other 
design,  than  to  exempt  the  blessed  God,  as  far  as  is  pos- 
sible, from  a  participation  in  the  evil  actions  of  his  crea- 
tures; in  the  meantime  entitling  him  most  entirely  to 
those  that  are  sincerely  good.  Though  it  must  be  left 
imputable  to  men  themselves  (it  being  through  their  own 
great  default)  if  they  have  not  the  grace  which  might 
effectually  enable  them  to  do  such  also.  And  as  for  the 
latter.  This  supposed  indetermination  of  the  human  will, 
in  reference,  especially,  to  wicked  actions,  is  far  from 
being  capable  of  inferring,  that  God  cannot  therefore 
foreknow  them ;  or  any  thing  more,  than  that  we  are  left 
ignorant  of  the  way,  how  he  foreknows  them.  And  how 
small  is  the  inconvenience  of  acknowledging  that,  yea,  and 
how  manifest  the  absurdity  of  not  acknowledging  the  like, 
in  many  cases!  since  nothing  is  more  certain,  than  that 
God  doth  many  things  besides,  whereof  the  manner  how 
he  does  them,  we  can  neither  explicate  nor  understand ! 
For  neither  is  it  difficult  to  assign  instances  more  than 
enough  of  actions  done  by  ourselves  of  the  manners  whereof 
we  can  give  no  distinct  account,  as  those  of  vision,  intel- 
lection, with  sundry  others. 

Some  have  been  at  great  pains  we  well  know  to  explain 
the  manner  of  God's  foreknowledge  of  these  futurities, 
otherwise  than  by  laying  the  foundation  thereof  in  his 
supposed  efficacious  will  or  decree  of  them.  They  that 
can  satisfy  themselves  with  what  Thomas  and  Scotus  have 
attempted,  and  the  followers  of  them  both ;  that  can  un- 
derstand what  it  is,  with  the  one,  for  all  things  to  be  eter- 
nally present  to  the  Divine  intellect  in  esse  reali,  and  not 
understand  by  it,  the  world  to  have  been  eternal.  Or, 
what  with  the  other,  that  they  be  all  present  only  in  esse 
representativo,  and  not  understand  by  it  barely  that  they 
are  all  known,  and  no  more,  (which  seems  like  the  expli- 
cation of  the  word  invasion  by  invasion,)  let  them  enjoy 
their  own  satisfaction.  For  my  own  part,  I  can  more 
easily  be  satisfied  to  be  ignorant  of  the  modus  or  medium 
of  his  knowledge,  while  I  am  sure  of  the  thing;  and  I 
know  not  why  any  sober-minded  man  might  not  be  so  too. 
While  we  must  all  be  content  to  be  ignorant  of  the  manner, 
yea,  and  nature  too,  of  a  thousand  things  besides,  when  that 
such  things  there  are,  we  have  no  doubt.  And  when  there 
are  few^  things,  about  which  we  can,  with  less  disadvantage, 
suffer  our  being  ignorant;  or  with  less  disreputation,  pro- 
fess to  be  so.  It  cannot  therefore  be  so  affrightful  a  thing, 
to  suppose  God's  foreknowledge  of  the  most  contingent 
future  actions,  well  to  consist  with  our  ignorance  how 
he  foreknows  them,  as  that  we  should  think  it  necessary 
to  overturn  and  mingle  heaven  and  earth,  rather  than 
admit  it. 

Sect.  VIII.  Wherefore  waving  that  unfeasible,  unne- 
cessary, and  unenjoined  task,  of  defending  God's  predeter- 
minativ^e  concourse  unto  sinful  actions;  our  encounter 
must  only  be  of  the  more  superable  difficulty,  to  reconcile 
his  prescience  of  them  with  his  provisions  against  them,  i.  s. 
how  fitly  the  wise  and  holy  God  can  have  interposed  his 
precautions  and  dissuasions,  in  their  own  nature,  aptly 
tending  to  withhold  and  divert  men  from  those  evil  ac- 
tions, which  he  yet  foresees  they  will  do.  And  it  is,  in  the 
first  place,  evident,  there  can  be  no  pretence  to  allege  that 
there  is  any  such  repugnancy  in  the  matter,  as  shall  amount 
to  a  contradiction,  so  much  as  virtual,  or  which  the  things 
signified,  on  the  one  part  and  the  other,  can  be  understood 
any  way  to  import,  that  indeed  there  should  be  a  direct 
and  explicit  contradiction  between  foreknowing  and  de- 
horting,  we  may,  at  first  sight,  perceive  the  terms  cannot 
admit ;  for  there  is  nothing  enunciated  (affirmed  or  denied) 
in  either.  But  let  the  sense  of  both  be  resolved  into  pro- 
positions, capable  of  being  confronted  to  one  another,  and 
all  that  can  be  made  of  the  former,  will  only  come  to  this, 
"  You  will  do  such  a  thing,"  and  of  the  latter,  no  more 
but  this,  "You  ought  not  to  do  it :"  these  are  at  as  great 
distance,  as  can  be  imagined,  from  grating  upon,  or  jarring 
with,  one  another.  And  wherein  is  the  indecorum  of  it, 
that  both  these  effata  should  proceed  from  the  same  mouth, 
viz.  of  a  governor,  or  one  that  hath  authority  over  others. 


OP  GOD'S  PRESCIENCE,  &c. 


119 


We  will,  for  discourse  sake,  suppose  a  prince  endowed 
frith,  the  gift  or  spirit  of  prophecy.  This  most  will  ac- 
Knowledge  a  great  perfection,  added  to  whatsoever  other 
his  accomplishments.  And  suppose  we  this  his  prophetic 
ability  so  large,  as  to  extend  to  most  events  that  shall  fall 
out  within  his  dominions.  Is  it  hereby  become  unfit  for 
him  to  govern  his  subjects  by  laws,  or  any  way  admonish 
them  of  their  duty  1  Hath  this  perfection  so  much  dimin- 
ished him  as  to  depo.se  him  from  his  government!  It  is 
not  indeed  to  be  dissembled,  that  it  were  a  difficulty  to 
determine,  whether  such  foresight  were,  for  himself,  better 
or  worse.  Boundless  knowledge  seems  only  in  a  fit  con- 
junction with  as  unbounded  power.  But  it  is  altogether 
unimaginable  that  it  should  destroy  his  relation  to  his  sub- 
jects. As  what  of  it  were  left,  if  it  should  despoil  him  of 
his  legislative  power,  and  capacity  of  governing  according 
to  laws  made  by  itl  And  to  bring  back  the  matter  to  the 
supreme  Ruler:  Let  it  for  the  present  be  supposed  onh^, 
that  the  blessed  God  hath,  belonging  *o  his  nature,  the 
universal  prescience  whereof  we  are  discoursing ;  we  will, 
surely,  upon  that  supposition,  acknowledge  it  to  belong  to 
him  as  a  perfection.  And  were  it  reasonable  to  affirm  that 
by  a  perfection  he  is  disabled  for  government;  or  were  it 
a  good  consequence,  "  He  foreknows  all  things,  he  is 
therefore  unfit  to  govern  the  world." 

Sect.  IX.  And,  that  we  may  consider  the  matter  more 
narrowly,  would  the  supposition  of  such  foreknowledge  in 
God,  make  that  cease  to  be  man's  AxAy,  which  had  other- 
wise been  sol  and  take  away  the  diflTerences  of  good  and 
evin  Would  it  nullify  the  obligation  of  God's  law,  and 
make  man's  own  inclination  his  only  rule  1  or,  if  it  be  said, 
because  it  is  foreknown,  man  will  do  such  a  thing,  there- 
fore he  may,  where  is  the  connexion  1  For  what  influence 
can  foreknowledge  have,  to  alter  or  efl^ect  any  way,  either 
the  nature  of  the  thing  foreknown,  or  the  temper  of  the 
person  that  shall  do  it ;  any  more  than  the  present  know- 
ledge of  the  same  thing,  now  in  doing  1  which  knowledge 
none  would  deny  to  God;  and  which,  when  it  Occurs  to  a 
man,  is  no  more  understood  to  make  an  evil  action  inno- 
cent, than  the  action  makes  the  eye  guilty,  of  him  that 
beholds  it  only,  and  detests  it  at  once.  Surely  what  is,  in 
its  own  nature,  whether  good  or  evil,  can  never  not  be  so, 
be  it  foreknown  or  not  foreknown. 

But  if  what  was  otherwise  man's  duty,  be  still  his  duty, 
what  can  make  it  unfit  that  it  be  declared,  and  made 
known  to  him  to  be  so  %  and  how  is  that  otherwise  to  be 
done,  than  by  these  disputed  means  1  yea  (for  this  is  the 
case)  what  can  make  it  less  fit,  than  it  would  be  that  God 
should  cease  to  rule  over  the  world ;  and  quit  the  right  of 
his  government  to  his  revolted  creatures,  upon  no  other 
reason,  than  only  that  he  foresees  the)'  have  a  mind  to  in- 
vade it  1  It  may  now  perhaps  be  said,  all  this  reasoning 
tends  indeed  to  establish  the  contrary  assertion,  that  not- 
withstanding God  do  foreknow  man's  sin,  it  is  however 
necessary  he  forewarn  him  of  it — but  it  answers  not  the 
objected  "difficulty,  viz.  how  reasonably  any  such  means  are 
used  for  an  unattainable  end.  As  it  is  manifest,  the  end, 
man's  obedience,  cannot  be  attained  when  it  is  foreknown 
he  will  not  obey. 

Sect.  X.  It  may  here,  before  we  proceed  further,  not  be 
unseasonable  to  consider,  (a  matter,  as  is  known,  wont  to 
be  much  vexed  in  the  schools,)  how  God  may  be  said  to 
act  for  any  end  at  all.  And  it  appears  verj'  certain,  that 
he  who  is  so  every  way  absolutely  perfect  and  happy,  can- 
not be  thought  to  intend  and  pursue  an  end,  after  the  same 
manner  as  we  are  wont  to  do.  We  being  conscious  to 
ourselves  of  indigency,  or,  at  the  best,  of  obligation  to  the 
Author  of  our  beings,  are  wont  to  design  this  or  that  end 
for  the  relieving  of  ourselves,  or  the  approving  ourselves 
to  him.  And,  our  satisfaction  depending  upon  the  attain- 
ment of  it,  we  solicitously  deliberate  about  the  fittest  means 
to  attain  it ;  and  are  to.ssed  with  various  passions,  of  desire, 
and  hope,  and  fear,  and  joy,  and  grief,  according  as  the 
end  is  apprehended  more  or  less  excellent,  or  likely  to  be 
attained;  varying  often  our  course  upon  new  emerirencies, 
as  this  or  that  may  probably  promote  or  hinder  the  suc- 
cess of  our  pursuit.  In  short,  we  pursue  ends,  as  being 
both  impatient  of  disappointment,  and  uncertain  of  iheir 
attainment. 

q  Acts  IV.  13. 


The  blessed  God,  being  indigent  of  nothing,  nor  under 
obligation  to  any  one,  cannot  be  supposed  to  propound  an 
end  to  himself  as  that  whereupon  his  satisfaction  depends, 
which  were  inconsistent  with  his  already  complete  felicity, 
and  would  argue  hirn  but  potentially  happy.  But  acting 
always  from  an  immense  self-sufficient  fulness  of  life,  and 
of  all  perfections,  doth  ever  satisfy  him.self  in  himself,  and 
take  highest  complacency  in  the  perfect  goodness,  con- 
gruity,  and  rectitude  of  his  own  most  holy  will  and  way. 
And  again,  as  he  doth  not  seek  a  yet  unattained  satisfac- 
tion, in  any  end  he  can  be  supposed  to  propound  to  him- 
self; so  nor  can  he  be  thought  to  deliberate,  as  we  are 
wont  to  do,  concerning  the  means  of  effecting  any.  For 
deliberation  would  imply  doubtfulness  and  uncertainty, 
which  his  absolute  perfection  cannot  admit ;  nor  doth  need, 
the  whole  frame  and  compass  of  things  intended  by  him, 
in  their  distinct  references  and  tendencies,  being,  at  once, 
present  to  his  all-comprehending  view;  so  that  there  can 
be  no  place  for  any  intermediate  knowledge  with  him,  or 
for  any  new  resolves  thereupon.  Known  to  the  Lord  are 
all  his  works  from  the  beginning  of  the  world.i 

Sect.  XI.  This  being  premised ;  it  is  now  further  to  be 
considered,  that  howsoever  one  end  oftentimes  is  not  at- 
tained, unto  which  the  publicly  extant  declarations  of  the 
Divine  will  have  a  visible  aptitude,  viz.  the  obedient  com- 
pliance of  men  with  them  ;  another  more  noble  end  wa.s, 
however,  attainable,  not  unbecoming  the  designment  of  the 
Divine  wisdom,  and  which  it  was  every  way  most  worthy 
of  God  to  be  more  principally  intent  upon.  It  is  fit  the 
mention  of  this  be  prefaced  with  an  obvious  remark ; — that 
the  misapprehension  of  the  state  of  things  between  God 
and  man  doth,  in  great  part,  owe  itself  to  our  aptness  to 
compare  unduly  the  Divine  government  with  that  of 
secular  rulers ;  and  our  expectation  to  find  them  in  all 
things  agreeing  with  each  other.  Whereas  there  cannot 
but  be  a  vast  difference,  between  the  constitution  and  end 
of  God's  government  over  his  creatures,  and  more  espe- 
cially mankind,  and  that  of  man  over  his  fellow-creatures 
of  the  same  kind.  The  government  of  secular,  human 
rulers,  can  never  be,  in  the  constitution  of  it,  altogether 
absolute,  nor  ought,  in  the  design  of  it,  primarily  to  intend 
the  personal  advantage  of  the  ruler  himself,  who  as  much 
depends  upon  his  subjects,  and  hath  (at  least)  as  great 
need  of  them,  as  they  can  be  understood  to  have  of  him. 
But  as  to  the  blessed  God  the  matter  is  apparent,  and  hath 
its  own  triumphant  evidence,  that  since  he  is  the  original 
and  root  of  all  being,  that  all  things  are  mere  dependencies 
upon  his  absolute  pleasure,  and  entireh'  of  him,  and  by 
him,  all  ought  to  be  to  him,  that  he  alone  might  have  the 
glory. -^ 

Wherefore,  it  must  be  asserted,  and  cannot  fail  of  ob- 
taining to  be  acknowledged,  by  every  impartial  and  sober 
considerer  of  things,  that  there  is  a  much  more  noble  and 
important  end,  that  all  God's  public  edicts  and  declara- 
tions to  men,  (the  instruments  of  his  government  over 
them,)  do  more  principally  aim  at,  than  their  advantage, 
viz.  the  dignity  and  decorum  of  his  government  itself;  and 
that  he  may  be  found  in  everything  to  have  done  as  be- 
came him,  and  was  most  worthy  of  himself  And  what 
could  be  more  so,  than  that  he  should  testify  the  aversion 
of  his  own  pure  and  holy  nature,  to  whatsoever  was  un- 
holy and  impure,  his  love  of  righteousness  and  compla- 
cency to  he  imitated  herein,  together  with  his  steady,  gra- 
cious propension  to  receive  all  them  into  the  communion 
of  his  own  felicity  or  blessedness  (for  the  Redeemer's  sake) 
who  should  herein  comply  with  him  1  Nor  are  we  to  un- 
derstand that  he  herein  so  designs  the  reputation  of  his 
government,  as  men  are  often  wont  to  do  things  out  of 
design  for  their  interest  in  that  kind,  that  are,  otherwise, 
against  their  overruled  inclination.  But  we  are  to  accoun' 
these  his  declarations  (although  they  are  acts  of  an  intel 
ligent  Agent,  and  the  products  of  wisdom  and  counsel, 
yet  al.so)"the  spontaneous  emanations  of  his  own  holy  and 
gracious  nature,  such  as  wherein  he  most  fully  agrees, 
and  consents  with  himself  And  is  it  now  to  be  ex 
pected,  that  because  he  foresees  men  will  be  wicked,  and 
do  what  shall  be  unworthy  of  them,  he  must  therefore  lay 
aside  his  nature,  and  omit  to  do  what  shall  be  worthy  ol 
himself? 

r  Rom.  n. 


130 


THE  RECONCILEAELENESS 


Sect.  XIL  And  hereupon  it  may  be  expected,  the  more 
ingenuous  and  candid  -RiU  allo-vv  themselves  to  think  the 
matter  tolerably  clear,  in  reference  to  the  former  part  of 
the  proposed  difficulty ;,  i.  e.  will  apprehend  this  way  of 
dealing  with  men  not  imprudent,  or  inconsistent  with  the 
Divine  wisdom,  since,  though  one  end,  in  a  great  part, fail, 
yet  another,  more  valuable,  is  attained.  But  yet,  as  to 
the  latter  part,  the  difficulty  may  still  urge,  viz.  how  it  can 
stand  with  sincerity  ;  whereas  that  end  also  which  fails, 
seems  to  have  been  most  directly  intended,  that  the  blessed 
God  should  seem  so  earnestly  intent  upon  it :  since  it  is 
hardly  conceivable,  that  the  same  thing  should  be,  at  once, 
seriousl)'  intended  as  an  end,  and  yet,  at  the  same  time, 
give  the  eye,  which  seems  to  design  it,  no  other  prospect 
than  of  a  thing  never  to  be  brought  to  pass. 

Wherefore  we  are  next  to  consider,  that  we  may  pro- 
ceed gradually,  and  not  omit  to  say  what  is  in  itself  con- 
siderable ;  though  it  is  not  all  (which  cannot  be  said  at 
once)  that  is  to  be  said ; — that  the  public  declarations  of 
the  Divine  will,  touching  man's  duty,  do  attain  that  very 
end,  his  obedient  compliance  therewith,  in  great  part,  and 
as  to  many  (although  it  be  foreknown  they  will  prove  in- 
effectual with  the  most)  are  the  no  less  successful,  than  the 
apt.  means  of  attaining  it.  Nor,  certainly,  if  it  were  fore- 
known the  world  would  be  so  divided,  as  that  some  would 
obey,  and  others  not  obey,  was  it  therefore  the  fittest 
course,  that  these  two  sorts  should,  by  some  extraordinary 
act  of  providence,  be  carefully  severed  from  each  oiher  ; 
and  those  be  dealt  withal  apart  from  the  rest.  But  rather, 
that  the  Divine  edicts  should  be  of  a  universal  tenor,  and 
be  directed  to  all  as  they  are  ;  the  matter  of  them  being  of 
maiversal  concernment,  and  eqaally  suitable  to  the  com- 
mon case  of  all  men. 

Sect.  XIII.  Neither  yet  was  it  necessary,  that  effectual 
care  should  be  taken,  they  should  actually  reach  all,  and 
be  applied  to  every  individual  person.  Since  it  is  appa- 
rently to  be  resolved  into  the  wickedness  of  the  world, 
that  they  do  not  so;  and  that  there  is  not  a  universal  dif- 
fusion of  the  gospel  into  every  part.  For  it  being  evident 
to  any  one's  reflection,  that  men  are  in  a  state  of  apostacy 
and  defection  from  their  Maker  and  common  Lord,  and 
therefcsre  subject  to  his  displeasure ;  whereas  the  merciful 
God  hath  done  his  own  part,  and  so  much  beyond  what 
was  to  be  expected  from  him ;  issued  out  his  proclama- 
tions of  peace  and  pardon,  upon  so  easy  and  indulgent 
termSy aS'- are  expressed  in  his  gospel;  if,  hereupon,  men 
also  did  their  part,  behaved  themselves  suitably  to  the  ex- 
igency of  their  case,  and  as  did  become  reasonable  crea- 
tures, fallen  under  the  displeasure  of  their  Maker,  (whereof 
their  common  condition  affords  so  innumerable,  so  preg- 
nant proofs,)  the  gospel,  wheresoever  it  should  arrive, 
would  have  been  entertained  with  so  great  a  transport  of 
joy,  and  so  ready  and  universal  acceptance,  as  very  soon 
to  have  made  a  great  noise  in  the  world  ;  and  being  found 
to  be  of  a  universal  tenor  and  concernment,  and  that 
what  it  says  to  one  nation,  it  equally  says  the  same  to  every 
one ;  it  could  not  but  be,  that  messengers  would  inter- 
changeably have  run  from  nation  to  nation;  some  to  com- 
municate, others  to  inquire  after,  those  strange  tidings  of 
great  joy  unto  all  people,  lately  sent  from  heaven  j  con- 
cerning the  Emmanuel, God  with  us;  God, again  upon  his 
return  to  man,  and  now  in  Christ  reconciling  the  world  to 
himself.  And  thus  how  easily,  and  even  naturally,  would 
the  gospel  soon  have  spread  itself  through  the  world!  es- 
pecially the  merciful  God  having  so  provided,  that  there 
should  be  an  office  constituted,  and  set  up  ;  a  sort  of  men, 
whose  whole  business  it  should  be,  to  propagate  and  pub- 
lish those  happy  tidings.  But  that  men  should  so  indulge 
their  sensual,  terrene  inclination,  as  not  at  all  to  use  their 
understandings  and  considering  power,  about  other  mat- 
ters than  only  what  are  within  the  sight  of  their  eye,  when 
by  so  easy  and  quick  a  turn  of  thoughts  they  might  feel 
and  find  out  who  made  them,  and  was  the  Original  of 
their  life  and  being,  and  that  things  are  not  right,  and  as 
they  should  be,  between  him  and  them;  and  so  by  what 
is  within  the  compass  of  natural  revelation,  be  prepared 
for  what  is  supernatural.  And  not  that  only,  but  to  that 
stupidity,  by  which  they  are  unapt  to  inquire  after  and 
)receive,  to  add  that  obstinate  malignity  by  which  they 
ate  apt  to  reject  and  oppose  the  merciful  discoveries  and 


overtures  of  their  offended,  reconcileable  Creator  and 
Lord.  How  manifestly  doth  this  devolve  the  whole  busi- 
ness of  the  little,  slow  progress  of  the  gospel  in  the  world, 
upon  themselves  onl}" !  As  suppose  we  a  prince  of  the 
greatest  clemency,  benignity,  and  goodness,  from  whom  a 
whole  country  of  his  .subjects  have  made  a  most  causeless 
defection  ;  hereupon  to  send  to  the  whole  body  of  the  re- 
bels a  gracious  proclamation  of  free  pardon  upon  their 
return  to  their  allegiance  and  duty;  and  it  only  from 
hence  comes  to  pass,  that  every  individual  person  of  them 
distinctly  understands  not  what  the  message  from  their 
prince  did  import ;  because,  they  that  heard  it  would  not, 
many  of  them,  allow  themselves  to  consider  and  regard  it ; 
and  others  of  them,  with  despiteful  violence,  fell  upon  the 
heralds,  barbarously  butchering  some  of  them,  and  igno- 
miniously  repulsing  the  rest :  who  would  not  say,  that 
prince  had  fully  done  his  part,  and  acquitted  himself  an- 
swerably  to  the  best  character,  though  he  should  send  to 
the  rebels  no  further  overtures  1  Much  more,  if  through 
a  long  tract  of  time,  he  continue  the  same  amicable  en- 
deavours for  their  reducement ;  notwithstanding  the  con- 
stant experience  of  the  same  ill  success;  who  would  not 
cast  the  whole  business  of  the  continued  ill  understanding, 
between  him  and  the  revollers,  upon  themselves'?  and 
reckon  it  impossible,  an)'  should  be  ignorant,  of  his  kind 
and  benign  inclinations  and  intentions,  if  an  implacable 
enmity,  and  disafl'eclion  to  him  and  his  government,  were 
not  their  common  temper  1 

Though  so  infinitely  do-  the  mercies  of  God  exceed 
those  of  the  most  merciful  prince  on  earth,  as  well  as  his 
knowledge  and  power ;  that  wheresoever  there  are  any 
exempt  cases,  we  must  conceive  him  equally  able  and  in- 
clined to  consider  them  distinctly.  And  so  vastly  differ- 
ent may  we  well  suppose  the  degrees  of  happiness  and 
misery  to  be,  in  the  other  world  ;  as  that  there  may  be 
latitude  enough,  of  punishing  and  rewarding  men,  propor- 
tionably  to  the  degrees  of  light  they  have  had,  and  the 
more  or  less  malignity,  or  propension  to  reconciliation, 
was  found  with  them  thereupon. 

Sect.  XIV.  Nor  again  was  it  at  all  incongruous,  oi 
unbecoming,  that  the  blessed  God,  this  being  the  common 
temper  and  disposition  of  all  men,  to  reject  his  gracious 
tenders,  should  provide,  by  some  extraordinary  means, 
that  they  might  not  be  finally  rejected  by  all.  For  what 
can  be  more  appropriate  to  sovereignty  (even  where  it  is 
infinitely  less  absolute)  than  arbitrarily  to  design  the  ob- 
jects of  special  favour  1  Who  blames  a  prince,  for  placing 
special  marks  of  his  royal  bounty,  or  clemency,  here  and 
there  as  he  thinks  fit  ?  or  that  he  hath  some  peculiar  fa- 
vourites, with  whom  he  familiarly  converses,  whom  he 
hath  won,  bysome  or  other  not  common  inducements,  and 
assured  their  loyal  affection ;  though  there  be  thousands 
of  persons  in  his  dominions  besides,  of  as  good  parts,  dis- 
positions, and  deserts  as  they?  It  belongs  to  sovereignly, 
only  so  to  be  favourable  to  some,  as,  in  the  mean  time, 
to  be  just  towards  all.  Yea,  and  it  must  be  acknowledged, 
such  are  the  dispensations  of  the  holy  God  towards  the 
whole  community  of  mankind,  as  import  not  only  strict 
righteousness,  but  great  clemency  and  mercy  also.  Though 
they  might  easily  understand  themselves  to  be  offenders, 
and  liable  to  the  severities  of  his  justice,  they  are  spared 
by  his  patience,  sustained  by  his  bounty,  protected  by  his 
power;  their  lives  and  properties  are  fenced  by  his  own 
laws.  And  whereas  they  are  become  very  dangerous 
enemies  to  one  another;  and  each  one  his  own  greatest 
enemy  ;  it  is  provided  by  those  laws,  even  for  the  worst  of 
men,  that  none  shall  injure  them,  that  all  love  them,  and 
seek  their  good.  He  interposes  his  authority  on  their  be- 
half; and,  if  any  wrong  them,  he  takes  it  for  an  affront 
done  to  himself.  By  the  same  laws  they  are  directed  to 
industry,  frugality,  sobriety,  temperance,  to  exercise  a 
government  over  themselves,  to  bridle  and  subdue  their 
own  exorbitant  lusts  and  passions,  their  more  immediate 
tormentors,  and  the  sources  of  all  the  calamities  and  mise- 
ries which  befall  them  in  this  world.  By  all  which  evi- 
dences of  his  great  care,  and  concern  for  their  welfare, 
they  might  understand  him  to  hare  favourable  propensions 
towards  them,  and  that  though  they  have  offended  him,  he 
is  not  their  implacable  enemy ;  and  might;  by  his  good- 
ness, be  led  to  repentance. 


OP  GOD'S  PRESCIENCE,  &c. 


121 


Yea  and  moreover  ;  Ix?  hath  sent  thein  a  Redeemer,  liis 
own  Son,  an  incarnate  Deity,  who  came  duwn  into  this 
workl,  full  of  grace  and  truth,  upon  the  must  merciful 
errand.  And  they  have  some  of  them  been  in  transports, 
when  they  have  but  fancied  such  a  descent,  for  tlie  doing 
them  only  some  lighter  good  turn  ;  as  upon  the  cure  ot' 
the  cripple.  The  gods  (say  they)  arc  come  down  in  the 
likeness  of  men  ! »  He  being  filled  with  the  glorious  ful- 
ness of  the  Godhead,  hath  been  a  voluntary  .sacrifice  for 
the  sins  of  men  ;  and  if  they  would  believe  and  obey  him, 
they  would  find  that  sacrifice  is  accepted,  and  available 
for  them.  And  though  they  are  disabled  to  do  so  only 
by  their  own  wicked  inclination,  even  against  that  also 
they  have  no  cause  to  despair  of  being  relieved,  if  they 
would  (which  they  might)  admit  the  thoughts  of  their  im- 
potency,  and  the  exigency  of  their  case,  and  did  seriously 
implore  Divine  help. 

Sect.  XV.   Now  with  whom   these   methods   succeed 
well,  there  is  no  suspicion  of  insincerit3^     Lei  us   see 
what  pretence  there  can  be  for  it,  with  the  rest.     It  is  to  be 
considered,  that,  as  to  them  he  doth  not  apply  himself  to 
every,  or  to  any,  person  immediately,  and  severally,  after ; 
some  such  tenor  of  speech  as  this,  "  I  know  thee  to  be  a 
profligate,  hopeless  wretch,  and  that  thou  wilt  finally  dis- 
regard whatsoever  I  say  to  thee,  and  consequently  perish 
and  become  miserable.      But  however  (though  I  foresee 
m.ost  certainly  thou  wilt  not,  yet)  I  entreat  thee  to  hear, 
and  obey,  and  live."     Indeed,  sending  a  prophet  to  a  pro- ; 
miscuous  people,  he  foretells  hira  of  such  ill  success,  t! 
But  it  is  not  told  hira  he  should  succeed  so  ill  universally, 
and  it  is  implied,  he  should  not.  " 

But  the  course  the  great  God  takes,  is  only  to  apply 
himself  to  these  (as  hath  been  said)  in  common  with  the 
rest.  For  if  it  be  said  he  also  applies  himself  to  them  b}' 
the  private  dictates  of  his  Spirit ;  he  does  not,  by  it,  make 
formed  speeches  to  men.  But  as  to  those  its  common 
motions,  whereby  it  applies  itself  imto  them,  doth  only 
solicit,  in  a  slated  manner  of  operation,  in  and  by  their 
own  reason  and  consciences,  (as  he  concurs  with  our  infe- 
rior faculties,  and  with  the  inferior  creatures,  suitable  to 
their  natures  and  capacities,)  speaking  no  other  than  their 
own  language,  as  the}''  are  instructed  out  of  his  word,  or 
by  other  means.  Which  he  usually  continues  to  do,  till 
by  their  resistances,  they  have  sealed  up  their  own  con- 
sciences, and  consequently  (according  to  its  more  ordinary 
fixed  course,  and  laws  of  access  and  recess)  shut  out  the 
Holy  Spirit  both  at  once.  Nor  is  it  more  to  be  expected 
he  should  universally  alter  that  course ;  tlian  that  he 
should  alter  the  courses  of  the  sun,  moon,  and  stars,  and 
innovate  upon  universal  nature.  So  that  what  is  endea- 
voured for  the  reducement  of  such,  as  finally  refuse  to  re- 
turn, by  particular  applications  to  this  or  that  person,  and 
beyond  what  is  contained  in  the  public  declarations  of  his 
written  word,  is  by  substituted  ministers  and  inferior  agents, 
that  know  no  more  of  the  event,  than  they  do  themselves. 
And  that  this  was  the  fittest  way  of  dealing  with  reason- 
able creatures,  who,  that  will  use  his  own  reason,  sees  not  1 

Sect.  XVI.  That  our  disquisition  may  be  here  a  little 
more  strict  we  shall  inquire  both, — What  may  be  sup- 
posed po.ssible  to  be  alleged  out  of  God's  word,  in  refer- 
ence to  them  that  persist  in  wickedness  till  they  finally 
perish,  which  it  can  be  thought  not  consistent  with  sin- 
cerity, to  have  inserted,  upon  the  supposed  foresight  of  so 
dismal  an  issue.  And  what  more  convenient  course  we 
can  think  of,  which  sincerity  (as  we  apprehend)  would 
have  required. 

As  to  the  former.  It  may,  perhaps,  be  alleged,  that  he 
professes  to  will  the  salvation  of  all  men.  «  Not  to  desire 
the  death  of  hira  that  dieth.  y  Yea,  and  professes  himself 
grieved  that  any  perish.  ^  Now  these  things,  compared 
with  his  public  declarations  and  tenders,  directed,  in  a 
universal  tenor,  lo  all  men,  carry  that  appearance  and 
show  with  them,  as  if  he  would  have  it  believed,  his  end 
were  to  save  all.  Wherewith  his  foresight  of  the  perdition 
of  so  many  seems  ill  to  agree.  For  how  can  that  end  be 
seriously  intended  which  it  is  foreseen  will  not  be  brought 
about  1  And  how  can  it  be  thought  to  consist  with  sin- 
cerity, that  there  should  be  an  appearance  of  his  having 
such  an  end,  unto  which,  a  serious  real  intention  of  it 
«  Act«  )dv.  t  Ezek.  ili.  7.  u  Vor.  -il. 


doth  not  correspond  1  Wherefore  we  shall  here  examme, 
what  appeaianco  such  expressions  as  those  above  recited, 
can,  by  just  interpretation,  be  understood  to  amount  unto. 
And  liien  show  that  there  is  really  with  the  ble.ssed  GihI, 
wliai  doth  truly  and  fully  corresixmd  to  that  appeai-ance; 
and  very  ngieeably  too,  with  the  hypothe.-is  of  his  foresee- 
ing how'  tilings  will  finally  issue,  wiih  very  many. 

And  first,  that  \vc  may  understand  the  true  import  of 
the  expressions  which  we  have  mentioned,  and  others  ot 
like  sound  and  meaning.  We  are  to  consider,  that  though 
being  taken  severally  and  apart,  they  aie  not  capable  ola 
sense,  prejudical  to  the  cau.se,  the  defence  whereof  we 
have  undertaken,  which  we  shall  aJierwards  more  distinctly 
evince,  yet,  it  were  very  injurious,  lo  go  about  to  a/hx 
a  sense  unto  a  single  expression,  without  weighing  tJie 
general  design  of  the  writings,  whereof  it  is  a  part.  It  were 
quite  to  frustrate  the  use  of  words,  when  a  matter  is  to  be 
represented,  that  is  copious,  and  consists  of  many  parts  and 
branches,  which  cannot  be  comprehended  in  one  of  a 
few  sentences ;  if  we  will  pretend  to  estimate  and  make  a 
judgment  of  the  speaker's  full  meaning,  by  -this  or  that 
single  passage  onl)^,  because  we  have  not  jiatience  or  lei- 
sure to  hear  the  rest ;  or  perhaps  have  a  greater  dispositioa 
to  cavil  at  his  words,  than  understand  his  meaning.  If  a, 
course  resembling  this  should  be  taken,  in  interpreting  the 
edicts  or  laws  of  princes  and  stales,  (suppose  it  were  a 
proclamation  of  pardon  to  delinquent  subjects,)  and  only 
this  or  that  favourable  clause  be  fastened  upon,  without 
regard  to  the  inserted  provisos  and  conditions  ;  the  (con- 
cerned) interpreters  might  do  a  slight,  temporary,  and 
easily  remediable  wrong  to  the  prince,  but  are  in  danger, 
more  fatally,  to  wrong  themselves. 

The  edicts  of  the  great  God,  that  are  publicly  extant  to 
mankind,  (the  universal  publication  «'hereof  thej'  partly 
withstand,  and  which  they  too  commonly  deprave,  and 
perversely  misinterpret,  where  they  do  obtain,)  carry  no 
such  appearance  with  them,  as  if  he  had  ever  proposed  it 
to  himself,  for  his  end,  to  save  all  men,  or  any  man,  let 
them  do  what  they  please,  or  how  destructive  a  course 
soever  they  lake,  and  shall  finally  persist  in.  If  that  were 
supposed  his  design,  his  so  seemingly  serious  counsels 
and  exhortations  were  as  ludicrous,  as  they  could  be 
thought,  if  it  were  as  peremptorily  determined  all  should 
perish.  For  what  God  will,  by  almighty  power,  immedi- 
ately work,  without  the  subordinate  concurrence  of  any 
second  cause,  must  be  necessarily.  And  it  is  equally  vain, 
solicitously  to  endeavour  the  engaging  of  subordinate 
ngents,  to  "do  that  which  without  them  is  absolutely  neces- 
saiT,  as  it  were  to  endeavour  that,  bj'  them,  which  is  abso- 
lutelv  impossible. 

Sect.  XVII.  That  which  his  declarations  to  men  do 
amount  unto,  is,  in  sum,  thus  much, — that,  whereas  they 
have,  bv  their  defection  and  revolt  from  him,  made  them- 
selves liable  to  his  justice,  and  very  great  consequent 
miseries;  he  is  willing  to  pardon,  save,  and  restore  them 
to  a  blessed  state,  upon  such  terms  as  shall  be  agreeable 
(the  recompense  due  to  his  injured  law  being  othei-wise 
provided  for,  at  no  expense  of  theirs)  to  the  nature  of  that 
blessedness  they  are  to  enjoy,  the  purity  of  his  own  nature, 
and  the  order  and  dignity  of  his  government.  That  is,  that 
thev  seriouslv  repent  and  turn  to  him,  love  him  as  the 
Loid  their  God,  wiih  all  their  heart  and  soul,  and  might 
and  mind  ;  and  one  another  as  themselves;  (being  to  make 
together  one  happ)'  community,  in  the  participation  of  the 
same  blessedness ;)  commit  themselves  by  entire  trust, 
subjection,  and  devoledne.ss  to  their  great  and  merciful 
Redeemer,  according  to  the  measure  of  light  wherewith 
he  shall  have  been  revealed  and  made  known  to  them-, 
submit  to  the  motions  and  dictates  of  his  blessed  Spirit, 
whereby  the  impression  of  his  own  holy  imase  is  to  be 
renewed  in  theni^and  a  divine  nature  imparted  to  them: 
and  carefully  atteifd  to  his  word  as  the  means,  the  impres- 
sive instrument  or  seal,  by  which,  understood  and  con- 
sidered, that  impression  shall  be  ntade,  and  the  very  seeds 
out  of  which  that  holy  nature,  and  the  entire  frame  of  the 
new  creature,  shall  result  and  spring  up  in  them  ;  so  as  to 
make  them  apt  unto  the  obedience  that  is  expected  from 
them,  and  capable  of  the  blessedness  they  are  to  expect; 
that  if  they  neglect  to  attend  to  these  external  discoveries 

V  T.zA.  \-.ii!   35.  7  P«.  K.vsi.  12, 13. 


X  1  Tim.  ii.  4. 


THE  RECONCILEABLENESS 


and  refuse  the  ordinary  aids  and  assistances  of  his  good 
Spirit  and  offer  violence  to  their  own  consciences,  they 
are  not  to  expect  he  should  overpower  them,  by  a  strong 
hand  and  save  them  against  the  continuing  disinclination 
of  their  own  wills.  Nor  (whatsoever  extraordinary  acts 
he  may  do  upon  some,  to  make  them  willing)  is  there  any 
universal  promise  in  his  word,  or  other  encouragement, 
upon  which  any  may  reasonably  promise  themselves  that, 
in  the  neglect  and  disuse  of  all  ordinary  means,  such  power 
shall  be  used  with  them,  as  shall  finally  overcome  their 
averse,  disaffected  hearts. 

Sect.  XVIII.  'Tis  true  that  he  frequently  uses  much 
importunity  with  men,  and  enforces  his  laws  with  that 
earnestness,  as  if  it  were  his  own  great  interest  to  have 
them  obeyed ;  wherein,  having  to  do  with  men,  he  doth 
like  a  man,  solicitously  intent  upon  an  end  which  he  can- 
not be  satisfied  till  he  attain.  Yet  withal,  he  hath  inter- 
spersed, every  where  in  his  word,  so  frequent.  Godlike 
expressions  of  his  own  greatness,  all-sufficiency,  and  inde- 
pendency upon  his  creatures,  as  that  if  we  attend  to  these 
his  public  declarations,  and  manifests  of  himself  entirely, 
so  as  to  compare  one  thing  with  another,  we  shall  find  the 
matter  not  at  all  dissembled  ;  but  might  collect  this  to  be 
the  state  of  things  between  him  and  us,  that  he  makes  no 
overtures  to  us,  as  thinking  us  considerable,  or  as  if  any 
thing  were  to  accrue  to  him  from  us.  But  that,  as  he 
takes  pleasure  in  the  diffusion  of  his  own  goodness,  so  it  is 
our  interest  to  behave  ourselves  suitably  thereunto,  and, 
according  as  we  comply  with  it,  and  continue  in  it,  or  do 
not,  so  we  may  expect  the  delectable  communications  of 
it,  or  taste,  otherwise,  his  just  severity.  That,  therefore, 
when  he  exhorts,  obtests,  entreats,  beseeches  that  we  would 
obey  and  live ;  speaks  as  if  he  were  grieved  at  our  dis- 
obedience, and  what  is  like  to  ensue  to  us  therefrom ; 
these  are  merciful  condescensions,  and  the  efforts  of  that 
goodness,  which  chooseth  the  fittest  ways  of  moving  us, 
rather  than  that  he  is  moved  himself,  by  any  such  passions 
as  we  are  wont  to  feel  in  ourselves,  when  we  are  pursuing 
our  own  designs.  And  that  he  vouchsafeth  to  speak  in 
such  a  way  as  is  less  suitable  to  himself,  that  it  may  be 
more  suitable  to  us,  and  might  teach  us,  while  he  so  far 
complies  with  us,  how  becoming  it  is  that  we  answerably 
bend  ourselves  to  a  compliance  with  him.  He  speaks, 
sometimes,  as  if  he  did  suffer  somewhat  human,  as  an  apt 
means  (and  which  to  many  proves  effectual)  to  bring  us  to 
enjoy,  at  length,  what  is  truly  divine.  We  may,  if  we 
consider,  and  lay  things  together,  understand  these  to  be 
gracious  insinuations ;  whereby,  as  he  hath  not  left  the 
matter  liable  to  be  so  misunderstood,  as  if  he  were  really 
affected  with  solicitude,  or  any  perturbation  concerning 
us,  (which  he  hath  sufficiently  given  us  to  understand  his 
blessed  nature  cannot  admit  of,)  so  nor  can  they  be  thought 
to  be  disguises  of  himself,  or  misrepresentations,  that  have 
nothing  in  him  corresponding  to  them.  For  they  really 
signify  the  obedience  and  blessedness  of  those  his  crea- 
tures that  are  capable  thereof,  to  be  more  pleasing  and 
agreeable  to  his  nature  and  will,  than  that  they  should 
disobey  and  perish  ;  (which  is  the  utmost  that  can  be  im- 
derstood  meant  by  those  words,  God  will  have  all  men  to 
lie  saved  and  come  to  the  knowledge  of  the  truth  ;)  but 
withal,  that  he  so  apprehends  the  indignity  done  to  his 
government,  by  their  disobedience,  that  if  they  obey  not 
(as  the  indulgent  constitution  and  temper  of  his  law  and 
government  now  are,  in  and  by  the  Redeemer)  they  must 
perish.  And  that  he  hath  also  such  respect  to  the  con- 
gruity  and  order  of  things,  as  that  it  shall  not  be  the  ordi- 
nary method  of  his  government  over  reasonable  creatures, 
to  overpower  them  into  that  obedience,  by  which  it  may 
come  to  pass  that  they  perish  not.  All  which  may  be 
collected  from  those  his  own  plain  words,  in  that  other 
recited  text,  and  many  besides  of  like  import.  When, 
"with  so  awful  solemnity,  he  professes,  that  as  he  lives  he 
takes  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of  sinners,  but  that  they 
may  turn  and  live  ;  and  adds.  Turn  ye,  turn  ye,  why  will 
you  die  1  *  That  is,  that  their  repentance,  and  consequent 
welfare,  would  be  more  grateful  tohim  than  their  perdition, 
upon  their  persevering  in  destructive  ways  ;  but  yet,  that 
if  they  were  not  moved  to  repent,  by  these  his  pleadings 
and  expostulations  used  with  them,  they  should  die,  and 


were  therefore  concerned  to  attend  and  hearken  to  such 
his  reasonings  and  warnings,  as  the  apt  means  to  work 
their  good ;  not  expecting  he  should  take  extraordinary 
courses  with  them,  in  order  to  it.  And  that  the  real  re- 
spect he  had  thereunto,  should  never  induce  him  to  use 
any  indecorous  course  to  bring  it  about;  but  that  he  had 
a  more  principal  respect  to  the  rules  of  justice,  and  the 
order  of  his  government,  than  to  their  concernments.  And 
that  he,  notwithstanding,  expresses  himself  aggrieved  that 
any  finally  perish.  If  we  consider  and  recollect,  what 
notices  he  hath  furnished  our  minds  with,  of  the  per- 
fections of  a  Deity,  and  what  he  hath  remonstrated  to  us 
of  his  own  nature,  so  plainly  in  his  word;  we  cannot 
understand  more  by  it,  than  the  calm  dispassionate  resent- 
ment and  dislike,  which  most  perfect  purity  and  goodness 
have,  of  the  sinfulness  and  miserable  ruin  of  his  own 
creatures. 

In  all  which  we  have  a  most  unexceptionable  idea  of 
God,  and  may  behold  the  comely  conjuncture  of  his  large 
goodness,  strict  righteousness,  and  most  accurate  wisdom 
altogether:  as  we  are  also  concerned,  in  making  our 
estimate  of  his  ways,  to  consider  them :  and  not  to  take 
our  measure  of  what  is  suitable  to  God,  by  considering 
him  according  to  one  single  attribute  only;  but  as  they  all 
are  united,  in  his  most  perfect  being.  And  in  that  blessed 
harmony,  as  not  to  infer  with  him  a  difficulty  what  to  do, 
or  what'not.  Which  sometimes  falls  out  with  men,  where 
there  is  an  imperfect  resemblance  of  those  divine  excel- 
lencies, not  so  exactly  contempered  together.  As  it  was 
with  that  Spartan  prince  and  general  in  Plutarch,  when 
finding  a  necessity  to  march  his  army,  and  taking  notice 
of  one,  for  whom  he  had  a  peculiar  kindness,  that  through 
extreme  weakness  was  not  possibly  to  be  removed,  he 
looked  back  upon  him,  expressing  his  sense  of  that  exi- 
gency, in  those  emphatical  words.  How  hard  a  matter  is 
it  at  once  iXcav  Kat  ippovciv,  to  exercise  pity  and  be  wise  i 
God's  own  word  misrepresents  him  not,  but  gives  a  true 
account  of  him,  if  we  allow  ourselves  to  confer  it  with 
itself,  one  part  of  it  with  another.  Nor  doth  any  part  of 
it,  taken  alone,  import  him  so  to  have  willed  the  happiness 
of  m.en,  for  any  end  of  his,  that  he  resolved  he  would,  by 
whatsoever  means,  certainly  effect  it:  as  we  are  wont, 
many  limes,  with  such  eagerness  to  pursue  ends  upon 
which  we  are  intent,  as  not  to  consider  of  right  or  wrong, 
fit  or  unfit,  in  our  pursuit  of  them,  and  so  let  the  cost  ol 
our  means,  not  seldom,  eat  up  our  end.  Nor  did  that  be- 
long to  him,  or  was  his  part  as  our  most  benign,  wise,  and 
righteous  Governor,  to  provide  that  we  should  certainly 
not  transgress,  or  not  suffer  prejudice  thereby ;  but  that 
we  should  not  do  so,  through  his  omission  of  any  thing, 
which  it  became  him  to  do  to  prevent  it. 

Sect.  XIX.  It  may  therefore  be  of  some  use  further  to 
take  notice,  that  a  very  diverse  consideration  must  be  had, 
of  the  ends  which  shall  be  effected  by  GoJ's  own  action 
only,  and  of  those  which  are  to  be  brought  a.  out  (in  con- 
currence and  subordination  to  his  own)  by  the  interveni- 
ent  action  of  his  creatures.  Especially  (which  is  more  to 
our  purpose)  such  of  them  as  are  intelligent,  and  capable 
of  being  governed  by  laws.  As  to  the  former  sort  of  thevse 
ends,  we  may  be  confident  they  were  all  most  absoluteh 
intended,  and  can  never  fail  of  being  accomplished.  Fo^ 
the  latter,  it  cannot  be  luiiversally  said  so.  For  these  be 
ing  not  entirely  his  ends  ;  but  partly  his,  and  partly  pre 
scribed  by  him,  to  his  reasonable  creatures,  to  be  theirs 
We  are  to  conceive  he  always,  most  absolutely,  intends  tr 
do,  what  he  righteously  esteems  congruous  should  be  his 
own  part ;  which  he  extends  and  limits  as  seems  good  untc 
him.  And  sometimes,  of  his  own  good  pleasure,  assumes 
to  himself  the  doing  of  so  much,  as  shall  ascertain  the  end , 
effectually  procuring,  that  his  creature  shall  do  his  pari 
also.  That  is,  not  only  enacts  his  laws,  and  adds  exhorta- 
tions, warnings,  promises,  to  enforce  it,  but  also  emits 
that  effectual  influence,  whereby  the  inferior  wheels  shall 
be  put  into  motion,  the  powers  and  faculties  of  his  governed 
creature  excited  and  assisted,  and  (by  a  spirit  in  the  wheels) 
made  as  the  chariots  of  a  willing  people.  At  other  times', 
and  in  other  instances,  he  doth  less,  and  meeting  with  re 
sistance,  sooner  retires  ;  follows  not  his  external  edicts  and 
declarations,  with  so  potent  and  determinative  an  influence ; 


a  Ezek.  .\xxiii.  U. 


OF  GOD'S  PRESCIENCE,  &c. 


Dut  that  the  creature,  tlirough  his  own  great  default,  may 
omit  to  do  his  part,  and  so  that  end  be  not  effected. 

That  the  course  of  his  economy  towards  men  on  earth 
is,  de  facto ^  ordered  with  this  diversity,  seems  out  of  ques- 
tion. Manifest  experience  shows  it.  Some  do  .^ensibly 
perceive  that  motive  influence,  which  others  do  not.  The 
same  persons,  at  some  times,  find  not  that,  which  at  other 
times  they  do.  His  own  word  plainly  asserts  it.  "  He 
works  in  us  to  will  and  to  do,  of  his  own  good  pleasure."* 
Where  he  will,  he,  in  this  respect,  shows  mercy  ;  where 
he  will,  he  hardeneth,  or  doth  not  prevent  but  that  men  be 
hardened.  And  indeed,  we  should  be  constrained  to  rase 
out  a  great  part  of  the  Sacred  Volume,  if  we  should  not 
admit  it  to  he  so.  And  as  the  equity  and  fitness  of  his 
making  such  difference  (when  it  appears  he  doth  make  it) 
cannot  without  profaneness  be  doubted,  so  it  is  evident, 
from  what  was  before  said,  they  are  far  removed  from  the 
reach  and  confines  of  any  reasonable  doubt ;  since  he  for- 
sakes none,  but  being  first  forsaken.  Nor  have  men  aaiy 
pretence  to  complain  of  subdolous  dealing,  or  that  they 
are  surprisingly  disappointed,  and  lurched  of  such  help, 
as  they  might  have  expected;  inasmuch  as  this  is  so  plain- 
ly extant  in  God's  open  manifests  to  the  world,  that  he 
uses  a  certain  arbitrariness,  especially  in  the  more  exube- 
rant dispensation  of  his  grace  4  and  is  inserted  to  that 
purpose,  that  they  may  be  cautioned  not  to  neglect  loiver 
assistances;  and  warned,  because  he  works  to  will  and  to 
do  of  his  own  pleasure,  therefore  to  work  out  their  own 
salvation  with  fear  and  trembling.b  Whereupon,  else- 
where, after  the  most  persuasive  alluring  invitations  : 
Turn  ye  at  my  reproof,  I  will  pour  out  mj'  Spirit  to  you, 
I  will  make  known  my  words  to  you,  it  is  presently  sub- 
joined. Because  I  called  and  ye  refused,  I  stretched  out 
my  hand  and  no  man  regarded;  but  ye  have  set  at 
nought  all  my  counsel,  and  would  none  of  my  reproof;  I 
also  will  laugh  at  your  calamity,  I  will  mock  when  your 
fear  cometh.<= 

From  all  which  it  is  plainly  to  be  understood,  that  the 
general  strain  and  drift  of  God''s  external  revelation  of 
his  mind  to  man,  in  his  word,  and  the  aspect  of  eveji  those 
passages,  that  can,  with  most  colour,  be  thought  to  signify 
any  thing  further,  do  amount  to  nothing  more  than  this, 
that  he  doth  so  far  really  will  the  salvation  of  all,  as  not 
to  omit  the  doing  that  which  may  effect  it,  if  they  be  not 
neglectful  of  themselves  ;  but  not  so  as  to  efl'ect  it  by  that 
extraordinary  exertion  of  power,  which  he  thinks  fit  to 
employ  upon  some  others. 

Nor  is  it  reaisonably  to  be  doubted,  -(such  a  will  being 
all  that  can  be  pretended  to  be  the  visible  meanixig  of  the 
pa.ssages  before  noted,)  whether  there  be  such  a  will  in 
God  or  no :  and  so  somewhat  really  corresponding  (the 
next  thing  promised  to  be  discoursed)  to  the  aspect  and 
appearance  hereof,  which  is  offered  to  our  view.  For 
what  should  be  the  reason  of  the  doubt  %  He,  who  best 
understands  his  own  nature,  having  said  of  himself  what 
imports  no  less ;  why  should  we  make  a  difficulty  to  be- 
lieve him  "?  Nor  indeed  can  any  notices  we  have  of  the 
perfections  of  the  Divine  nature  be  less  liable  to  doubt, 
than  what  we  have  of  his  unchangeaWe  veracity ;  whence, 
as  it  is  impossible  to  him  to  lie,  it  must  be  necessary,  that 
he  be  really  willing  of  what  he  hath  represented  himself 
so  to  be.  I  must  here  profess  my  dislike  of  the  terms  of 
that  common  distinction,  the  i-olvntas  bcneplaciti,  ct  signi, 
in  this  present  case.  Under  which,  such  as  coined,  and 
those  that  have  much  used  it,  have  only  ratlier,  I  doubt  not, 
concealed  a  good  meaning,  than  expressed  by  it  an  ill  one. 
It  seems,  I  confess,  by  its  more  obvious  aspect,  too  much  to 
countenance  the  ignominious  slander,  which  profane  and 
atheistical  dispositions  would  fasten  upon  God,  and  the 
course  of  his  procedure  towards  men  ;  and  which  it  is  the 
design  of  these  papers  to  evince  of  as  much  absurdity-  and 
folly,  as  it  is  guilty  of  impiety  and  wickedness :  as  though 
he  only  intended  to  seem  willing  of  what  he  really  was 
not ;  that  there  was  an  appearance  to  which  nothing  did 
subessc.  And  then  why  is  the  latter  called  voluntas?  un- 
less the  meaning  be  he  did  only  will  the  sign,  which  is 
false  and  impious ;  and  if  it  were  true,  did  he  not  will  it 
with  the  will  of  good  pleasure  *?  And  then  the  members  of 
the  distinction  are  confounded.     Or,  as  if  the  evil  actions 

b  Phil.  ii.  12,  13. 


123 

of  men  were  more  truly  the  objects  of  his  good  pleasure, 
than  their  forbearance  of  them.  And  of  these  faults  the  ap- 
plication of  the  distinction  of  God's  secret  will,  and  reveal- 
ed, unto  this  ca-^e,  though  it  be  u^^eful  in  many,  is  as  guilty. 

Sect.  XXI.  The  truth  is,  (unto  which  we  must  esteem 
ourselves  obliged  to  adhere,  both  by  our  assent  and  de- 
fence,) that  God  doth  really  and  complacentially  will  (and 
therefore  doth  with  most  unexceptionable  sincei-ity  declare 
himself  to  will)  that  to  be  done  and  enjoyed  b^-  many  men, 
which  he  doth  not,  universally,  will  to  make  them  do,  or 
irresistibly  procure  that  they  shall  enjoy.  Which  is  no 
harder  assertion,  than  that  the  impure  will  of  degenerate, 
sinful  man  is  opposite  to  the  holy  will  of  God  ;  and  the 
malignity  of  man's  will  to  the  benignity  of  his.  No  harder 
than  that  there  is  sin  and  misery  in  the  world,  which  how 
can  we  conceive  otherwise,  than  as  a  repugnancy  to  the 
good  and  acceptable  will  of  Godl  Melhinks  it  should 
not  be  difficult  to  us  to  acknowledge,  that  God  doth  truly, 
and  with  complacency,  will  whatsoever  is  the  holy,  righte- 
ous matter  of  his  own  laws.  And  if  it  should  be  with 
any  a  difficulty,  I  would  only  make  this  supposition.  What 
if  all  the  Avorld  were  yet  in  innocency,  yielding  entire 
universal  obedience  to  all  the  now  extant  laws  of  God, 
which  have  not  reference  to  man  as  now  fallen,  (as  those 
of  repentance^  faith  in  a  Mediator,  &c.)  would  it  now  be 
a  doubt  with  any,  whether  God  did  truly  and  really  will, 
and  were  pleased  with,  the  holiness  and  righteousness 
which  were  every  where  to  be  Ibund  in  the  world  ?  Surely 
we  would  not,  in  this  case,  imagine  the  creature's  will  more 
pure  and  holy  than  tJie  Divine  ;  or  that  he  were  displeased 
with  men  for  their  being  righteous  and  holy.  Now  again, 
suppose  the  world  revolted,  what  then  is  that  holy  will  of 
God  changed  ?  will  we  not  say  it  remains  the  same  holy 
will  still  ?  and  stands  the  same  rule  of  righteousness  and 
duty  that  it  was  ?  Doth  the  change  of  his  rebel  creatures 
infer  any  with  him'?  or  do  only  the  declarations  of  his 
former  will  remain  to  be  their  rule,  and  keep  them  still 
obliged,  his  will  itself  being  become  another  from  what  it 
was  1  Surely  he  might  as  easily  have  changed  his  laws. 

And  if  we  say  his  will  is  changed,  how  should  we  know 
it  to  be  so  ?  If  we  know  it  not,  surely  such  a  thing  should 
not  be  said  or  thought.  If  we  know  it,  how  should  those 
yet  extant  laws  and  declarations  continue  to  oblige,  again.st 
the  Lawgiver's  known  will?  And  tlien  the  eas}*  expedient 
to  nullify  the  obligation  of  a  la\v,  that  were  thought  too  re- 
strictive, were  to  disobey  it.  And  men  might,  by  sinning 
once,  license  themselves  to  do  the  same  thing  (though  ihea 
we  could  not  call  it  sinning) always.  And  so  the  creature's 
should  be  the  supreme  and  ruling  will.  Nor  had  it  been  a 
false  suggestion,  but  a  real  truth  that  man,  by  becoming 
a  sinner,  might  make  himself  a  god.  Or,  if  it  shall  be 
thought  fit  to  say,  that  the  Divine  will  would  not,  in  that 
supposed  case,  be  said  to  be  changed  ;  but  only,  that  now 
the  event  makes  it  appear  not  to  have  been  what  we 
thought  it  was;  that  were  to  impute  both  imp\irity  and 
dissimulation  to  the  holy,  blessed  God,  as  his  fixed  attri- 
butes. And  Avhat  we  thought  unfit,  and  should  abhor,  to 
imagine  might  have  place  with  him  one  moment,  to  affix 
to  him  for  perpetuity. 

Sect.  XXII.  And  whereas  it  may  be  thought  to  follow 
hence,  that  hereby  we  ascribe  to  God  a  liablenessto  frus- 
tration, and  disappointment.  That  is  without  pretence. 
The  resolve  of  the  Divine  will,  in  this  matter,  being  not 
concerning  the  event  what  man  shall  do,  but  concerning 
his  duty  what  he  should,  and  concerning  the  connexion 
between  his  duty  aud  his  happiness.  Wliich  we  say  he 
doth  not  only  seem  to  will,  but  wills  it  really  and  truly. 
Nor  would  his  prescience  of  the  event,  which  we  all  this 
while  assert,  let  frustration  be  so  much  as  possible  to  him. 
Especially,  it  being  at  once  foreseen,  that  his  will,  being 
crossed  in  this,  would  be  fulfilled  in  so  important  a  thing, 
as  the  preserving  the  decorum  of  his  own  government- 
AVhich  had  been  most  apparently  blemished,  beyond  what 
could  consist  with  the  perfections  of  the  Deity,  if  either 
his  will  concerning  men's  dutv,  or  the  declarations  of  that 
will,  had  not  been  substantially  the  same  that  they  are. 
We  are,  therefore,  in  assigningthe  object  of  this  or  that 
act  of  the  Divine  will,  to  do  it  entirely,  and  to  take  the 
whole  object  together,  without  dividing  it,  as  if  the  will  ot 
c  Prov.  L 


134 


THE  RECONCILEABLENESS 


God  did  wholly  terminate  upon  what  indeed  is  but  a  part 
(and  especially  if  that  be  but  a  less  considerable  part)  oi 
the  thin?  willed.  In  the  present  case,  we  are  not  to  con- 
ceive that  God,  only,  wills  either  man's  duty  or  lelicity,  or 
that  herein  his  will  doth  solely  and  ultimately  terminate. 
But  in  the  whole,  the  determination  of  God's  will  is,  that 
mail  shall  be  duly  governed,  that  is,  congruously  both  to 
himself,  and  him.  That  such  and  such  things,  most  con- 
gruous to  both,  shall  be  man's  duty,  by  his  doing  whereof, 
the  dignity  and  honour  of  God's  own  government  might 
be  pre1;erved,  which  was  the  thing  principally  to  be  de- 
signed, and  in  the  first  place.  And,  as  what  was  secondary 
thereto,  that  hereby  man's  felicity  should  be  provided  for. 
Therefore  it  being  foreseen  a  violation  would  be  done  to 
the  sacred  rights  of  the  Divine  government,  by  man's  dis- 
obedience, it  is  resolved,  they  shall  be  repaired  and  main- 
tained by  other  means.  So  that  the  Divine  will  hath  its  ef- 
fect ;  as  to  what  was  its  more  noble  and  principal  design, 
the  other  part  failing  only  by  his  default,  whose  is  the  loss. 
And  if  yet  it  should  be  insisted,  that  in  asserting  God 
to  will  what  by  his  laws  he  hath  made  become  man's  duty, 
even  where  it  is  not  done  we  shall  herein  ascribe  to  him, 
at  least,  an  ineffectual  and  an  imperfect  will,  as  which 
doth  not  bring  to  pass  the  thing  willed.  It  is  answered, 
that  imperfection  were  with  no  pretence  imputable  to  the 
Divine  will,  merely  for  its  not  effecting  every  thing, 
whereto  it  may  have  a  real  propension.  But  it  would  be 
more  liable  to  that  imputation,  if  it  should  effect  anything, 
which  it  were  less  fit  for  him  to  effect,  than  not  to  effect  it. 
The  absolute  perfection  of  his  will  stands  in  the  propor- 
tion, which  every  act  of  it  bears,  to  the  importance  of  the 
things  about  which  it  is  conversant.  Even  as,  with  men, 
the  perfection  of  any  act  of  will  is  to  be  estimated,  not  by 
the  mere  peremptory  sturdiness  of  it,  but  by  its  proportion 
to  the  goodness  of  the  thing  willed.  Upon  which  account, 
a  mere  velleity  (as  many  love  to  speak)  when  the  degree 
of  goodness  in  the  object  claims  no  more,  hath  uncon- 
ceivably  greater  perfection  in  it,  than  the  most  obstinate 
volition.  And  since  the  event  forbids  us  to  admit  that 
God  did  ever  will  the  obedience  and  felicity  of  all,  with 
such  a  will  as  should  be  effective  thereof;  if  yet  his  plain 
word  shall  be  acknowledged  the  measure  of  our  belief,  in 
this  matter,  which  so  plainly  asserts  him  someway  to  will 
the  salvation  of  all  men,  'tis  strange  if,  hereupon,  we  shall 
not  admit  rather  of  a  will  not-effective  of  the  thing  will- 
ed, than  none  at  all. 

The  will  of  God  is  sufficiently  to  be  vindicated  from  all 
imperfection,  if  Ave  have  sufficient  reason  for  all  the  pro- 
pensions  and  determinations  of  it,  whether  from  the  value 
of  the  things  willed,  or  from  his  own  sovereignty  who 
wills  them."  In  the  present  case,  we  need  not  doubt  to  af- 
firm, that  the  obedience  and  felicity  of  all  men,  is  of  that 
value,  as  whereunto  a  propension  of  Avill,  by  only  simple 
complacency,  is  proportionable.  Yet  that  his  not  procur- 
ing, as  to  all,  (by  such  courses  as  he  more  extraordinarily 
takes  with  some,)  that  they_^hall,  in  event,  obey  and  be 
happy,  is  upon  so  mitch  more  valuable  reasons  (as  there 
will  be  further  occasion  to  show  ere  long)  as  that,  not  to  do 
it  was  more  eligible,  with  the  higher  complacency  of  a 
determinntive  will.  And  since  the  public  declarations  of 
his  good  will,  towards  all  men,  import  no  more  than  the 
former,  and  do  plainly  import  so  much ;  their  correspond- 
ency to  the  matter  declared  is  sufficiently  apparent.  And 
so  is  the  congruity  of  both  with  his  prescience  of  the  event. 
For  though,  when  God  urges  and  incites  men,  by  exhorta- 
tions, promises,  and  threats,  to  the  doing  of  their  OAvn  part, 
(which  it  is  most  agreeable  to  his  holy,  gracious  nature  to 
do,)  Jie  foresee  many  will  not  be  moved  thereby  ;  but  per- 
sist in  wilful  neglect  and  rebellions  till  they  perish  :  he,  at 
the  same  time,  sees  thai  they  might  do  otherwise,  and  that, 
if  they  would  comply  with  his  methods,  things  would 
otherwise  issue  with  them.  His  prescience,  no  way,  im- 
posing upon  them  a  necessity  to  transgress.  For  they  do 
it  not  because  he  foreknew  it,  but  he  only  foreknew  it  be- 
cause they  would  do  so.  And  hence  he  had,  as  it  was  ne- 
cessary he  should  have,  not  only  this  for  the  object  of  his 
foreknowledge  that  they  would  do  amiss  and  perish ;  but 
the  whole  case  in  its  circumstances,  that  they  would  do  so, 
not  through  his  omission,  but  their  own.  And  there  had 
been  no  place  left  for  this  state  of  the  case,  if  the  public 


edicts  and  manifests  had  not  gone  forth,  in  this  tenor,  as 
they  have.  So  that  the  consideration  of  his  prescience 
being  taken  in,  gives  us  only,  in  the  whole,  this  state  of 
the  case,  that  he  foresaw  men  would  not  take  that  course 
which  he  truly  declared  himself  willing  they  should  (and 
was  graciously  ready  to  assist  them  in  it)  in  order  to  their 
own  well-being.  Whence  all  complaint  of  insincere  deal- 
ing is  left  without  pretence. 

Sect.  XXIII.  Nor  (as  we  also  undertook  to  show) 
could  any  course  (within  our  prospect)  have  been  taken, 
that  was  fit,  in  itself,  and  more  agreeable  to  sincerity. 
There  are  only  these  two  ways  to  be  thought  on  besides ; 
either,  that  God  should  wholly  have  forborne  to  make 
overtures  to  men  in  common ;  or,  that  he  should  effica- 
ciously have  overpowered  all  into  a  compliance  with  them. 
And  there  is  little  doubt,  but  upon  sober  consideration, 
both  of  these  will  be  judged  altogether  unfit.  l!he  former ; 
inasmuch  as  it  had  been  most  disagreeable — to  the  exact 
measures  of  his  government,  to  let  a  race  of  sinful  crea 
tures  persist,  through  many  successive  ages,  in  apostacy 
and  rebellion,  when  the  characters  of  that  law,  first  writ- 
ten in  man's  heart,  were  in  so  great  a  measure  outworn, 
and  become  illegible  ;  without  renewing  the  impression, 
in  another  way,  and  re-asserting  his  right  and  authority, 
as  their  Ruler  and  Lord  ; — to  the  holiness  of  his  nature, 
not  to  send  into  the  world  such  a  declaration  of  his  will, 
as  might  be  a  standing  testimony  against  the  impurity 
whereinto  it  was  lapsed ; — to  the  goodness  of  it,  not  to 
make  known  upon  what  terms,  and  for  whose  sake,  he  was 
reconcileable ;  and — to  the  truth  of  the  thing,  since  he 
really  had  such  kind  propensions  towards  men  in  common, 
not  to  make  them  known  : — that  it  had,  itself,  been  more 
liable  to  the  charge  of  insincerity,  to  have  concealed  from 
men  what  was  real  truth,  and  of  so  much  concernment  to 
them.  And  he  did,  in  revealing  them,  but  act  his  own 
nature ;  the  goodness  whereof  is  no  more  lessened,  by 
man's  refusal  of  its  offers,  than  his  truth  can  be  made  of 
none  effect  by  their  disbelief  of  its  assertions  :  besides  the 
great  use  such  an  extant  revelation  of  the  way  of  recovery 
was  to  be  of,  to  those  that  should  obediently  comply  with 
it,  even  after  they  should  be  won  so  to  do. 

Sect.  XXIV.  "And  the  latter  we  may  also  apprehend 
very  unfit  too ;  though,  because  that  is  less  obvious,  it  re- 
quires to  be  more  largely  insisted  on.  For  it  would  seem 
that  if  we  do  not  effect  any  thing  which  we  have  a  real 
will  unto,  it  must  proceed  from  impotency,  and  that  we 
cannot  do  it,  which,  who  would  say  of  the  great  Godi 
Herein,  therefore,  we  shall  proceed  by  steps.  And  gradu- 
ally offer  the  things  that  follow  to  consideration. 

As,  that  it  were  indeed  most  repugnant  to  the  notion  of 
a  Deity,  to  suppose  any  thing,  which  includes  in  it  no 
contradiction  impossible  to  God,  considered  according  to 
that  single  attribute  of  power  only.  But  yet  we  must  add, 
that  this  were  a  very  unequal  way  of  estimating  what 
God  can  do,  that  is,  to  consider  him  as  a  mere  Being  of 
power.  For  the  notion  of  God  so  conceived,  were  very 
inadequate  to  him,  which  taken  entirely,  imports  the  com- 
prehension of  all  perfections.  So  that  they  are  two  very 
distant  questions, — What  the  power  of  God  alone  could 
do  1  and — What  God  can  do  1  And  whereas  to  the  for- 
mer the  answer  would  be, — whatsoever  is  not  in  itself 
repugnant  to  be  done.  To  the  latter,  it  must  only  be, — 
whatsoever  it  becomes  or  is  agreeable  to  a  Being  every  way 
perfect  to  do.  And  so  it  is  to  be  attributed  to  the  excel- 
lency of  his  nature,  if  amongst  all  things  not  simply  im- 
possible, there  be  any,  which  it  may  be  truly  said  he  can- 
not do.  Or,  it  proceeds  not  from  the  imperfection  of  his 
power,  but  from  the  concurrence  of  all  other  perfections 
in  him.  Hence  his  own  word  plainly  affirms  of  him  that 
he  cannot  lie.  And  by  common  consent  it  will  he  ac- 
knowledged, that  he  cannot  do  any  unjust  act  whatsoever. 

To  this  I  doubt  not  we  may  with  as  common  suffrage 
(when  the  matter  is  considered)  subjoin,  that  his  wisdom 
doth  as  much  limit  the  exercise  of  his  power,  as  his  righte- 
ousness or  his  truth  doth.  And  that  it  may  with  as  much 
confidence,  and  clearness,  be  said  and  understood,  that  he 
cannot  do  an  unwise  or  imprudent  act  as  an  unjust. 
Further,  that  as  his  righteousness  corresponds  to  the  jus- 
tice of  things,  to  be  done  or  not  done,  so  doth  his  wisdom 
to  the  congruity  or  fitness.    So  that  he  cannot  do  what  it 


OF  GODS  PRESCIENCE,  &c. 


125 


is  unfit  for  him  to  do,  because  lie  is  wise  ;  and  because  he 

is  most  perfectly  and  infinitely  -wise,  therefore  nothing  that 
is  less  fit.  Butwhatsoever  is  fittest,  when  a  coinpari;>on 
is  made  between  doing  this  or  that,  or  between  doing  and 
not  doing,  that  the  perfection  of  his  nature  renders  neces- 
sary to  him,  and  the  opposite  part  impossible.  Again,  that 
this  measure  must  be  understood  to  have  a  very  large  and 
most  general  extent  unto  all  the  affairs  of  his  government, 
the  object  it  concerns  being  so  very  large.  We,  in  our 
observation,  may  take  notice,  that  fewer  questions  can 
occur  concerning  what  is  right  or  wrong,  than  what  is  fit 
or  unfit.  And  whereas  any  man  may  in  a  moment  be 
honest,  if  he  have  a  mind  to  it;  very  few  (and  that  by 
long  experience)  can  ever  attain  to  be  wise.  The  things 
about  which  justice  is  conversant  being  reducible  to  cer- 
tain rules,  but  wisdom  supposes  very  general  knowledge  of 
things  scarce  capable  of  such  reduction.  And  is,  besides, 
the  primary  requisite,  in  any  one  that  bears  rule  over 
others:  and  must  therefore  most  eminently  influence  all 
the  managements  of  the  Supreme  Ruler. 

Sect.  XXV.  It  is  moreover  to  be  considered,  that  in- 
numerable congruities  lie  open  to  the  Infinite  Wisdom, 
which  are  never  obvious  to  our  view  or  thought.  As  to  a 
well-studied  scholar,  thousands  of  coherent  notions,  which 
an  illiterate  person  never  thought  of;  to  a  practised  cour- 
tier, or  well-educated  gentleman,  many  decencies  and  inde- 
cencies, in  the  matter  of  civil  behaviour  and  conversation, 
which  an  unbred  rustic  knows  nothing  of;  and  to  an  ex- 
perienced statesman,  those  importancies,  which  never 
occur  to  the  thoughts  of  him  who  daily  follows  the  plough. 
What  government  is  there  that  hath  not  its  arcana,  pro- 
found mysteries,  and  reasons  of  state,  that  a  vulgar  wit 
cannot  dive  into  1  And  from  whence,  the  account  to  be 
given,  why  this  or  that  is  done  or  not  done,  is  not,  always, 
that  it  would  have  been  unjust  it  should  be  otherwise,  but 
it  had  been  imprudent.  And  many  things  are,  hereupon, 
judged  necessary  not  from  the  exigency  of  justice,  but 
reason  of  state.  Whereupon  men  of  modest  and  sober 
minds,  that  have  had  experience  of  the  wisdom  of  their 
governors  and  their  happ)' conduct,  through  a  considerable 
tract  of  time ;  when  they  see  things  done  by  them,  the 
leading  reasons  whereof  they  do  not  understand,  and  the 
effect  and  success  comes  not  yet  in  view,  suspend  their 
censure ;  while  as  5'et  all  seems  to  them  obscure,  and 
wrapt  up  in  clouds  and  darkness.  Yea  though  the  course 
that  is  taken  have,  to  their  apprehension,  an  ill  aspect. 
Accounting  it  becomes  them  not,  to  make  a  judgment  of 
things  so  far  above  their  reach,  and  confiding  in  the  tried 
wisdom  of  their  rulers,  who,  they  believe,  see  reasons  for 
what  they  do,  into  which  they  find  themselves  unable  to 
penetrate.  With  how  much  more  submiss  and  humble 
veneration,  ought  the  methods  of  the  Divine  government 
to  be  beheld  and  adored,  upon  the  certain  assurance  we 
have,  *hat  all  things  therein  are  managed  by  that  wisdom, 
which  could  never  in  an  v  thing  mistake  its  way  !  Where- 
as, there  was  never  any  continued  administration  of  human 
government,  so  accurate  and  exact,  but  that  after  some 
tract  of  lime,  some  or  other  errors  might  be  reflected  on 
therein. 

Again,  it  may  further  be  said,  M'ithout  presuming  beyond 
due  bounds,  that  though  infinite  congruities  musl  be  sup- 
po.sed  to  lie  open  to  the  divine  understanding,  which  are 
concealed  from  ours,  yet  that  these  two  things  in  the  gene- 
ral are  very  manifestly  congruous  to  any  sober  attentive 
mind,  that  directly  concern,  or  mav  be  a]iplied  to  the  case 
under  our  present  consideration,  riz.  That  the  course  of 
God's  government  over  the  world,  be,  for  the  most  part, 
steady,  and  uniform:  not  interrupted  by  ver\'  frequent, 
extraordinary,  and  anomalous  actions.  And  again,  That 
he  use  a  royal  liberty,  of  stepping  out  of  his  usual  course, 
sometimes,  as  he  sees  meet. 

It  cannot  but  appear  to  such  as  attend,  highly  incon- 
gruous, should  we  affirm  the  antithesis  to  either  of  these; 
or  lay  down  counter-positions  to  them,  and  suppose  the 
course  of  the  Divine  government  to  be  managed  agreeablj'- 
thereunto. 

Sect.  XXVI.  For,  as  fo  the  former;  what  confusion 
would  it  make  in  the  world,  if  there  should  be  perpetual 
innovations  upon  nature  ;  continual  or  exceeding  frequent 
impeditions,   and   restraints  of  second   causes.      In  the 


sphere  of  nature,  the  virtues  and  proper  qualities  of  things, 

being  never  certain,  could  never  be  understood,  or  knowTi. 
In  that  of  policy,  no  measures,  so  much  as  piobable, 
could  ever  be  taken.  How  much  better  is  it,  in  both,  that 
second  cau.ses  ordinarily  follow  their  inclinations!  And 
why  is  it  not  to  be  thought  congruous,  that,  in  some  de- 
gree, things  should  be  proportionably  so,  in  the  sphere  of 
grace  1  whereto  by  and  by  we  shall  speak  more  direct- 
ly. We  pray,  when  our  friends  are  sick,  for  their  recovery. 
What  can  be  the  sober  meaning  and  design  of  such 
prayers!  Not  that  God  would  work  a  miracle  for  their 
restitution,  (for  then  we  might  as  well  pray  for  their  revival 
after  death,)  but,  that  God  would  be  pleased  so  to  co-ope- 
rate, in  the  still  and  silent  way  of  nature,  with  second 
causes,  and  so  bless  means,  that  they  may  be  recovered, 
if  he  see  good.  Otherwise  that  they  and  we  may  be  pre- 
pared to  undergo  his  pleasure.  And  agreeable  hereto 
ought  to  be  the  intent  of  our  prayers,  in  reference  to  the 
public  affairs,  and  better  po.sture  of  the  world.  And  we 
may  take  notice,  the  Divine  wisdom  lays  a  ver}'  great  stress 
upon  this  matter,  the  preserving  of  this  common  order  of 
things  ;  and  cannot  but  observe  a  certain  inflexibleness  of 
Providence  herein.  And  that  it  is  very  little  apt  to  divert 
from  its  wonted  course.  At  which  weak  minds  are  apt  to 
take  offence  :  to  wonder,  that  against  so  many  prayers  and 
tears  God  will  let  a  good  man  die ;  or  one  w  hom  they 
love;  or  that  a  miracle  is  not  wrought  to  prevent  their 
own  being  wronged  at  any  time;  or,  that  the  earth  doth 
not  open  and  swallow  up  the  person  that  halh  done  them 
wrong  :  are  apt  to  call  for  fire  from  heaven,  upon  them 
that  are  otherwise  minded,  and  do  otherwise  than  they 
would  have  them.  But  a  judicious  person  would  consider, 
if  it  be  so  highly  reasonable  that  my  desires  should  be 
complied  with  so  extraordinarih^,  then  why  not  all  men'sl 
And  then  were  the  world  filled  with  prodigies  and  con- 
fusion. The  inconveniencies  would  soon  be  to  all  equally 
discernible  and  intolerable :  (as  the  heathen  poet  takes 
notice,  should  Jupiter's  ear  be  over-ea.sy ;)  yea,  and  the  im- 
pos.sibility  were  obvious  of  gratifying  all,  "because  of  their 
many  counter-desires. 

And  for  the  other,  it  were  no  less  incongruous,  if  the 
Supreme  Power  should  so  tie  its  own  hands,  and  be  so 
astricted  to  rules  and  methods,  as  never  to  do  anv  thing 
extraordinary,  upon  never  so  important  occasion.  How  ill 
could  the  world  have  wanted  such  an  effort  of  omnipo- 
tency,  as  the  restriction  upon  the  flames  from  destroying 
Shadrach,  Meshach,  and  Abediiego !  or  the  miracles 
wrought  in  our  Saviour's  and  the  next  following  days! 
Such  things  are  never  done,  but  when  the  all-compre- 
hending wisdom  sees  it  most  congruous  ;  and  that  the 
cause  will  over-recompense  the  deflection  from  the  common 
course.  If  no  such  thing  did  ever  fall  out,  what  a  tempta- 
tion were  it  to  mankind,  to  introduce  into  their  belief  an 
unintelligent  fate  instead  of  a  Deity!  Besides  that  the 
convincing  testimony  were  wanting,  which  we  see  is  so 
necessary  for  the  confirmation  of  any  particular  revelation 
from  God,  which  comes  not  within  the  compass  of  nature's 
discovery,  (upon  which  account  also,  it  is  as  apparently 
necessary  such  extraordinary  works  should  not  be  over- 
frequent,  for  then  they  become  ordinary,  and  useless  to 
that  special  end,)  so  that  here  the  exertions  both  of  the 
ordinate  and  absolute  power  of  God  (as  some  distinguish) 
have  their  so  appropriate,  and  so  visibly  apt  and  congruous, 
uses,  that  they  are  discernible  to  a  very  ordinary  under- 
standing, how  much  more  to  the  infinite  wisdom  of  God  ! 

Sect.  XXVII,  Now  hereupon  we  say  further,  there  is 
the  like  congruity,  upon  as  valuable  (thouerh  not  altogether 
the  same)  reasons  that,  in  the  affairs  of  grace,  there  be 
somewhat  correspondent :  that,  ordinarily,  it  he  sought 
and  expected,  in  the  use  of  ordinary  means.  And  that, 
sometimes,  its  sovereignty  show  itself  in  preventing  exer- 
tions; and  in  working  so  heroically,  as  none  have,  before- 
hand, in  the  neglect  of  its  ordinary  methods,  any  reason  ic 
expect.  And  we  may  fitly  add,  that  where  sovereignty  is 
pleased  thus  to  have  its  exercise  and  demonstrate  iiseli",  it 
is  sufficient  that  there  be  a  general  congruity.  that  it  do  so 
sometimes,  as  an  antecedent  reason  to  the  doii^g  of  some 
such  extraordinary  things,  but  that  there  should  be  a  par- 
ticular, leading  congruity  or  antecedent  reason,  to  invite 
those  extraordinary  operations  of  grace,  to  one  person  more 


196 


THE  RECONCILE ABLENESS,  &c. 


than  another,  is  not  necessary.  But  it  is  most  congruous, 
that,  herein,  it  be  most  arbitrary ;  most  agreeable  to  the 
supremacy  of  God;  to  the  state  of  sinful  man,  who  hath 
infinitely  disobliged  him,  and  can  deserve  nothing  from 
him ;  yea,  and  even  to  the  nature  of  the  thing.  For, 
whcrethere  is  a  parity,  in  any  objects  of  our  own  choice, 
there  can  be  no  leading  reason  to  this,  rather  than  that. 
The  most  prudent  man,  that  is  wont  to  guide  himself  by 
never  so  exquisite  wisdom,  in  his  daily  actions,  where 
there  is  a  perfect  indifferency,  between  doing  this  thing  or 
that,  is  not  liable  to  censure,  that  he  is  not  able  to  give  a 
reason  why  he  did  that,  not  the  other.  Wisdom  halh  no 
exercise  in  that  case. 

But  that  the  blessed  God  doth  ordinarily  proceed  in 
these  affairs,  by  a  steady  rule,  and  sometimes  show  his 
liberty  of  departing  from  it,  is  to  be  resolved  into  his 
infinite  wisdom,  it  being,  in  itself,  most  fit  he  should  do 
both  the  one  and  the  other;  and  therefore  to  him  most 
necessary.  Whereupon,  the  great  apostle  Saint  Paul,  dis- 
coursing upon  the  subject,  doth  not  resolve  the  matter 
into  strict  justice,  nor  absolute  sovereignly;  (both  which 
have  their  place  too,  in  his  proceedings  with  men,  as  the 
sacred  writings  do  abundantly  testify ;)  but  we  find  him  in 
a  transport,  in  the  contemplation  of  the  Divine  wisdom, 
that  herein  so  eminently  shines  forth.  O  the  depths  of 
the  riches  both  of  the  wisdom  and  knowledge  of  God! 
how  unsearchable  are  his  judgments,  and  his  ways  past 
finding  out !  d 

Sect.  XXVIII.  To  sum  up  all,  we  conclude  it  obvious 
to  the  apprehension  of  such  as  consider,  that  it  was  more 
congruous  the  general  course  of  God's  government  over 
man  should  be  by  moral  instruments.  And  howsoever 
it  were  very  unreasonable  to  imagine,  that  God  cannot  in 
any  case  extraordinarily  oversway  tlie  inclinations,  and 
determine  the  will  of  such  a  creature,  in  a  way  agreeable 
enough  to  its  nature,  (though  we  particularly  know  not, 
as  we  are  not  concerned  to  know,  or  curiously  to  inquire 
in  what  way,)  and  highly  reasonable  to  admit  that  in  many 
cases  he  doth.  It  is  notwithstanding  manifest,  to  any 
sober  reason,  that  it  were  very  incongruous,  this  should  be 
the  ordinary  course  of  his  conduct  towards  mankind,  or 
the  same  persons  at  all  times.  That  is,  that  a  whole  order 
of  intelligent  creatures  should  be  moved  only  by  inward 
impulses ;  that  God's  precepts,  promises,  and  commina- 
tions,  whereof  their  nature  is  capable,  should  be  all  made 
impertinencies,  through  his  constant  ov^erpowering  those 
that  should  neglect  them ;  that  the  faculties,  whereby  men 
are  capable  of  moral  government,  should  be  rendered,  to 
this  purpose,  useless  and  vain ;  and  that  they  should  be 
tempted  to  expect  to  be  constantly  managed  as  mere  ma- 
chines, that  know  not  their  own  use. 

Nor  is  it  less  apprehensible,  how  incongruous  it  were 
also,  on  the  other  hand,  to  suppose  that  the  exterior  frame 
of  God's  government  should  be  totally  unaccompanied 
with  an  internal  vital  energy;  or  exclude  the  inward  mo- 
tions, operations,  and  influences,  whereof  such  a  creature 
is  also  fitly  capable;  or  that  God  should  have  barred  out 
himself  from  all  inward  access  to  the  .spirits  of  men,  or 
commerce,  with  them  :  that  the  supreme,  universal,  pater- 
nal Mind  (as  a  heathen  called  it)  should  have  no  way  for 
efficacious  communications  to  his  own  offspring,  when  he 
pleases ;  that  so  (unsuitably  to  sovereignty)  he  should  have 
no  objects  of  special  favour,  or  no  peculiar  ways  of  ex- 
pressing it.  It  is  manifestly  congruous  that  the  Divine 
government  over  man,  should  be  (as  it  is)  mixed  or  com- 
posed of  an  external  frame  of  laws,  with  their  proper  sanc- 
tions and  inforcements,  and  an  internal  effusion  of  power 
and  vital  influence,  correspondent  to  the  several  parts  of 
that  frame  ;  and  which  might  animate  the  whole,  and  use 
it,  as  instrumental,  to  the  begetting  of  correspondent  im- 
pressions on  men's  spirits; — that  this  power  be  put  forth, 
not  like  that  of  a  natural  agent,  ad  uUimum,  (which  if  we 
would  suppose  the  Divine  power  to  be,  new  worlds  must 
be  springing  up  every  moment,)  but  gradually,  and  with 
an  apt  contemperation  to  the  subject,  upon  which  it  is  de- 
signed ;  to  have  its  operations  and  withal  arbitrarily,  as  is 
becoming  the  great  Agent  from  whom  it  proceeds,  and  to 
whom  it  therefore  belongs  to  measure  its  exertions,  as 

il  Rom  xi.  33.  See  to  the  sarao  purpose,  ch  xvi.  25,  26,  27.  and  Eph.  i.  5,6, 
7  with  the  8th. 


seems  meet  unto  him: — that  it  be  constant.y  put  forth 
(though  most  gratuitously,  especially  the  disoldigation  of 
the  apostacy  being  considered)  upon  all  to  that  degi  ee,  as 
that  they  be  enabled  to  do  much  good,  to  which  they  are 
not  impelled  by  it : — that  it  be  ever  ready  (since  it  is  the 
power  of  grace)  to  go  forth  in  a  further  degree  than  it  had 
yet  done,  wheresoever  any  former  issues  of  it  have  been 
duly  complied  with.  Though  it  be  so  little  supposable  that 
man  should  hereby  have  obliged  God  thereto,  that  he  lialh 
not  any  way  obliged  himself,  oiherwi.se,  than  that  he  hath 
implied  a  readiness  to  impart  unto  man  what  shall  be  ne- 
cessary to  enable  him  to  obey,  so  far  as,  upon  the  apostacy, 
is  requisite  to  his  relief:  if  he  seriously  endeavour  to  do 
his  own  part,  by  the  power  he  already  hath  received.  Agree- 
ably to  the  common  saying,  hovtini  facienti  qvod  in  se  est, 
4-c.  That,  according  to  the  royal  liberty  wherewith  it 
works  it  go  forth,  as  to  some,  with  that  efficacy,  as  not- 
withstanding whatever  resistance,  yet  to  overcome,  and 
make  them  captives  to  the  authority  and  love  of  Christ. 

Sect.  XXIX.  The  universal,  continued  rectitude  of  all 
intelligent  creatures  had,  we  may  be  sure,  been  willed 
with  a  peremptory,  efficacious  Avill,  if  it  had  been  best. 
That  is,  if  it  had  not  been  less  congruous  than  to  keep 
them  sometime  (under  the  expectation  of  future  confirma- 
tion and  reward)  upon  trial  of  their  fidelity,  and  in  a  state 
wherein  it  might  not  be  impossible  to  them  to  make  a  de- 
fection. And  so  it  had  easily  been  prevented,  that  ever 
there  should  have  been  an  apostacy  from  God,  or  any  sin 
in  the  world.  Nor  was  il  either  less  easy,  by  a  mighty 
irresistible  hand,  universally  to  expel  sin,  than  prevent  it; 
or  more  necessary  or  more  to  be  expected  from  him.  But 
if  God's  taking  no  such  course,  tended  to  render  his  go- 
vernment over  the  world  more  august  and  awful  for  the 
present,  and  the  result  and  final  issue  of  all  things  more 
glorious  at  length,  and  Avere  consequently  more  congru- 
ous ;  that  could  not  be  so  Avilled,  as  to  be  effectually  pro- 
cured by  hiin.  For  whatsoever  obligation  strict  justice 
hath  upon  us,  that  congruity  cannot  but  have  upon  him. 
And  whereas  it  would  be  concluded,  that  whatsoever  any 
one  truly  wills,  they  would  effect  if  they  could,  we  admit 
it  for  true,  and  to  be  applied  in  the  present  ca.se.  But 
add.  That  as  we  righly  esteem  that  impossible  to  us, 
which  we  cannot  justly  do,  so  is  that  to  him,  not  only 
which  he  cannot  do  justly,  but  which,  upon  the  whole 
matter,  he  cannot  do  most  wisely  also.  That  is,  which  his 
infinite  wisdom  dolh  not  dictate  is  most  congruous  and 
fit  to  be  done. 

Things  cohere  and  are  held  together,  in  the  course  of 
his  dispensation,  by  congruities  as  by  adamantine  bands, 
and  cannot  be  otherwise.  That  is,  comparing  and  taking 
things  together,  especially  the  most  important.  For  other- 
wise, to  have  been  nicely  curious  about  every  minute 
thing,  singly  considered,  that  it  might  not  possibly  have 
been  iDeiler,  (as  in  the  frame  of  this  or  that  individual  ani- 
mal or  the  like,)  had  been  needlessly  to  interrupt  the 
course  of  nature,  and  therefore,  itself,  to  him  an  incongru- 
ity. And  dolh,  in  them  that  expect  it,  import  more  of  a 
trifling  disposition  than  of  true  wisdom.  But  to  him 
whose  being  is  most  absolutely  perfect,  to  do  that  which, 
all  things  considered,  would  be  simply  best,  i.  e.  most 
becoming  him,  most  honourable  and  Godlike,  is  abso- 
lutely necessary.  And  consequently,  it  is  to  be  attributed 
to  his  infinite  perfection,  that,  unto  him,  to  do  otherwise, 
is  absolutely  impossible.  And  if  we  yet  see  not  all  these 
congruities  which,  to  him,  are  more  than  a  law ;  it  is 
enough  that  they  are  obvious  to  his  own  eye,  who  is  the 
only  competent  Judge.  Yet,  moreover,  it  is  finally  to  be 
considered,  that  the  methods  of  the  Divine  government 
are,  besides  his,  to  be  exposed  to  the  view  and  judgment 
of  other  intellects  than  our  own,  and  we  expect  they  should 
to  our  own,  in  another  state.  What  conception  thereof  is, 
already,  received  and  formed  in  our  minds,  is  but  an  em- 
bryo, no  less  imperfect  than  our  present  state  is. 

It  were  very  unreasonable  to  expect,  since  this  world 
shall  continue  but  a  little  while,  that  all  God's  manage- 
ments, and  ways  of  procedure,  in  ordering  the  great  affairs 
of  it,  should  be  attempered  and  fitted  to  the  judgment 
that  shall  be  made  of  them  in  this  temporary  slate,  that 


A  POSTSCRIPT  TO  THE  LATE  LETTER,  &c. 


127 


will  so  soon  be  over;  and  to  the  present  apprehension  and 
capacity  of  our  now  so  muddied  and  distempered  minds. 
A  vasi  and  stable  eternity  remains,  wherein  the  whole  ce- 
lestial chorus  shall  entertain  themselves  with  the  grateful 
contemplation  and  applause  of  his  deep  counsels.  Such 
things  as  now  seem  perplex  and  intricate  to  us,  will 
appear  most  irreprehensibly  fair  and  comely  to  angeli- 
cal minds,  and  our  own,  when  we  shall  be  vouchsafed  a 
place  amongst  that  happy  community.  What  discovery 
God  affords  of  his  own  glorious  excellencies  and  perfec- 
tions, is  principally  intended  to  recommend  him  in  that 
state  wherein  he,  and  all  his  ways  and  works,  are  to  be 
beheld  with  everlasting  and  most  complacential  approba- 
tion. Therefore  though  now  we  should  covet  the  clearest 
and  most  satisfying  account  of  things  that  can  be  had,  we 
are  yet  to  exercise  patience,  and  not  precipitate  our  judg- 
ment of  them  before  the  time:  as  knowing  our  present 
conceptions  will  differ  more  from  what  they  will  be  here- 
after, than  those  of  a  child  from  the  maturer  thoughts  of 
the  wisest  man.     And  that  many  of  our  conceits,  M'hich 


we  thought  wise,  we  shall  then  see  cause  to  put  away 
childish  things. 


The  disorder.  Sir,  of  this  heap  rather  than  frame  of 
thoughts  and  discourse,  as  it  cannot  be  thought  more  un- 
.suitable  to  the  .subject,  than  suitable  to  the  author ;  and 
the  less  displease,  by  how  much  it  could  less  be  expected 
to  be  otherwise,  from  him,  even  in  the  best  circumstances; 
so  it  may  lay  .some  claim  to  your  ea.sier  pardon,  as  having 
been,  mostly,  huddled  up  in  the  intervals  of  a  troublesome, 
long  journey.  Wherein  he  was  rather  willing  to  lake  what 
opportunity  the  inconveniences  and  hurry  of  it  could  allow 
him,  than  neglect  any,  of  using  the  earliest  endeavour  to 
approve  himself,  as  he  is  your  great  admirer, 

Most  honoured  Sir, 

Your  most  obedient  Immble  servant, 

H.  W. 


A  POSTSCRIPT 


TO  THE  LATE  LETTER 


OF  THE  RECONCILEABLENESS  OF  GOD'S  PRESCIENCE,  &c. 


Finding  that  this  discourse  of  the  reconcilcablcriess  of 
God's  prescience  of  the  sins  of  vien,  with  the  icisdom  and, 
sincerity  of  his  counsels,  exhortations,  (f-c.  ha'.h  been  mis- 
understood and  misrepresented  ;  I  think  it  requisite  to  say 
somewhat  briefly  in  reference  thereto.  I  wrote  it  upon  the 
motion  of  that  honourable  gentleman  to  whom  it  is  in- 
scribed ;  who  apprehended  somewhat  of  that  kind  might 
be  of  use  to  render  our  religion  less  exceptionable  to  some 
persons  of  an  inquiring  disposition,  that  might  perhaps  be 
too  sceptical  and  pendulous,  if  not  prejudiced.  Having 
finished  it,  I  thought  it  best  the  author's  name  should 
pass  under  some  disguise,  supposing  it  might  .so  better 
serve  its  end :  for  knowing  my  name  could  not  give  the 
cause  an  advantage,  I  was  not  willing  it  should  be  in  a 
possibility  of  making  it  incur  any  disadvantage.  And 
therefore,  as  I  have  observed  some,  in  such  cases,  to  make 
use  only  of  the  two  last  letters,  I  imitated  some  other,  in 
the  choice  of  the  pcn^uUimate .  But  perceiving  that  dis- 
course now  to  fall  under  animadversion,  I  reckon  it  be- 
coming to  be  no  longer  concealed.  It  was  unavoidable  to 
me,  if  I  would,  upon  reasonable  terms,  apply  myself 
to  the  consideration  of  the  matter  I  had  undertaken,  of 
showing  the  consistency  of  God's  prescience  of  the  sins 
of  men,  with  the  preventive  methods  we  find  him  to  have 
used  against  them,  to  express  .somewhat  of  my  sense  of 
(what  I  well  knew  to  have  been  asserted  by  divers  school- 
men) God's  predeterminative  concurrence  to  the  sins  of 
men  also.  For  it  had  been  (any  one  may  see)  very  idle 
and  ludicrous  trifling,  to  offer  at  reconciling  those  methods 
with  God's  prescience,  and  have  waived  that  manifestly 
greater  diSiculty  of  J'econciling  them  with  his  predetermi- 
native concourse,  if  I  had  thought  there  had  been  such  a 
thing.  And  were  a  like  case,  as  if  a  chirurgeon,  under- 
talring  a  wounded  person,  should  apply  himself,  with  a 
great  deal  of  diligence  and  address,  to  the  cure  of  a  finger 
slightly  .scratched;  and  totally  neglect  a  wound  feared  to 
be  mortal  in  his  breast. 

And  whereas  I  reckoned  God's  prescience  of  all  what- 
soever futurities,  and  consequently  of  the  sins  of  men, 
most  certain  and  demonstrable,  (though  it  was  not  the 
business  of  this  discourse  to  demonstrate  it,  but,  supposing 
it,  to  show  its  reconcileableness  with  what  it  seemed  not 
so  well  to  agree,)  if  I  had  believed  his  predeterminative 


concurrence  to  the  sins  of  men  to  be  as  certain  ;  perfect 
despair  of  being  able  to  say  any  thing  to  purpose  in  this 
case,  had  made  me  resolve  lo  say  nothing  in  either.  For. 
to  show  how  it  might  stand  with  the  wisdom  and  sincerity 
of  the  blessed  God,  to  counsel  men  not  to  sin,  to  profess 
his  hatred  and  detestation  of  it,  to  remonstrate  to  men  the 
great  danger  they  should  incur  by  it ;  with  so  great  ap- 
pearance of  seriousness  to  exhort,  warn,  expostulate  with 
them  concerning  it,  express  his  great  displeasure  and  grief 
for  their  sinning,  and  consequent  miseries;  and  yet  all  the 
while  act  them  on  thereto,  by  a  secret,  but  might)'  and 
irresistible,  influence,  seemed  to  me  an  utterly  hopeless 
and  impossible  undertaking.  The  other,  without  this, 
(supposing,  as  *o  this,  the  case  to  have  been  as  some  have 
thought  it.)  a  very  vain  one.  But  being  well  assured,  thai 
what  seemed  the  greater  difficulty,  and  to  carry  most  of 
terror  and  affright  in  the  face  of  it,  was  only  a  chimera;  I 
reckoned  the  other  very  superable,  and  therefore  directed 
my  discourse  thither,  according  to  the  first  design  of  it, 
which  was  in  effect  but  to  justify  God's  making  such  a 
creature  as  man,  and  governing  him  agreeably  to  his  nature. 
Now  judging  it  requisite,  that  he  who  should  read  tha' 
discourse  concerning  this  designed  subject,  with  any  aa 
vantage,  should  have  the  same  thoughts  of  the  other 
which  was  waived,  that  I  had  ;  I  apprehended  it  necessarj' 
to  communicate  those  thoughts  concerning  that,  as  I  did. 
Not  operosely,  and  as  my  business,  but  only  on  the  bye, 
and  asAvas  fit  in  reference  to  a  thing  that  was  to  he  waived, 
and  not  insisted  on.  Now  I  perceive  that  some  persons, 
who  had  formerly  entertained  that  strange  opinion  of 
God's  predeterminative  concurrence  to  the  wickedest  ac- 
tions, and  not  purged  their  minds  of  it,  have  been  offended 
with  that  letter,  for  not  expressing  more  respect  unto  it. 
And  yet  offered  nothing  themselves,  (which  to  me  seems 
exceedinar  strange,)  for  the  solving  of  that  great  difficulty 
and  encumbrance,  which  it  infers  upon  our  religion.  Nor 
do  I  much  wonder,  that  this  opinion  of  predeterminative 
concourse,  to  sinful  actions,  should  have  some  stiff  ad- 
herents among  ourselves.  For  having  been  entertained  by 
certain  Dominicans,  that  were  apprehended  in  some  things 
to  approach  nearer  us,  than  others  of  the  Roman  church ; 
it  came  to  receive  favotir  and  countenance  from  some  of 
our  own,  of  considerable  note  for  piety  and  learning,  whose 


128 


A  POSTSCRIPT  TO  THE 


name  and  authority  cannot  but  be  expected  to  have  iiiiicli 
influence  on  ihe  minds  of  many.  Knt  I  .somewhat 
wonder,  that  they  who  have  had  no  kindnes.s  for  thi.s  letter, 
upon  the  account  of  it.s  di.s.sent  from  them,  in  this  par- 
ticular, .should  not  allow  it  common  justice.  For  because 
it  hath  not  said  every  thing  they  would  have  had  it  say, 
and  that  would  have  been  grateful  to  them.selves,  tliey 
im{)ule  to  it  the  having  said  what  it  said  not,  and  what 
they  appreliended  would  be  most  ungrateful  to  all  pious 
and  sober  men.  The  sum  is,  they  give  out  concerning  it, 
that  it  denies  the  providence  of  God  about  sin,  which  all 
good  men  ought  to  abhor  from;  and  insinuate  that  it  falls 
in  with  the  sentiments  of  Durandus,  which  they  know 
maiiv  think  not  well  of. 

All  thai  I  intend  to  do,  for  the  present,  upon  this  oc- 
ca,sion,  shall  be  to  show  wherein  the  letter  is  misrepre- 
sented, and  charged  with  what  it  hath  not  in  it.  To 
remark  what  is  .said  against  that  supposed  sense  of  it,  and 
give  the  true  sense  of  what  it  says  touching  this  matter; 
with  a  further  account  of  the  author'.s  mind  herein  than  it 
was  thought  fit  to  insert  into  .so  transient  and  occasional  a 
<Ii.scourse  as  that  part  of  the  letter  was.  Whereby  it  may 
be  seen,  ^'herein  he  agrees  with  those  of  that  opposite 
persuasion,  and  what  the  very  point  of  difference  is. 
Further  than  this,  I  yet  intend  not  to  go,  till  I  .see  further 
need.  There  have  two  discourses  come  to  my  view  that 
have  referred  to  that  letter.  The  one  in  manuscript  only ; 
which,  because  it  is  uncertain  to  me  whether  the  reputed 
author  of  it  will  own  it  or  no,  and  because  it  says  little 
or  nothing,  by  way  of  argument,  against  the  true  sen.^e  of 
the  letter,  I  shall  take  no  fnrlher  present  notice  of  The 
other  is  printed,  and  oflers  at  somewhat  of  argument, 
which  therefore  I  shall  more  attentively  consider.  It  doth 
this  letter  an  honour,  whereof  its  author  never  had  the 
least  ambition  or  expectation,  to  insert  the  mention  of  it 
into  the  close  of  a  very  learned,  elaborate  work;''  with 
which  it  might,  yet,  easily  be  imagined,  its  simplicity,  anil 
remoteness  Irom  any  pretence  to  learning,  would  .so  ill 
agree,  that  a  quarrel  could  not  but  ensue.  It  is  from  one, 
who  having  spent  a  great  part  of  his  time  in  travelling 
through  some  regions  of  literature,  and  been  peaceable,  a.s 
fur  as  I  hav'e  understood,  in  his  travels;  it  might  have 
been  hoped  would  have  let  this  pamphlet  alone,  when,  for 
what  I  can  observe,  he  finds  no  fault  with  it  but  what  he 
makes,  and  is  fain  to  accuse  it  of  what  is  no  where  to  be 
found  in  it,  lest  it  should  be  innocent. 

It  is  an  unaccoimtable  pleasure  which  men  of  some 
humours  take,  in  depraving  what  is  done  by  others,  when 
there  is  nothing  attempted  that  doth  interfere  with  them  ; 
nothing  that  can,  righteously,  be  understood  to  cross  any 
good  end,  which  they  more  openly  pretend  to,  nor  the 
more  concealed  end  (if  they  have  any  such)  of  their  oAvn 
glory.  Common  edification  seems  less  designed,  when 
every  thing  must  be  thrown  down,  which  is  not  built  by 
their  own  hands,  or  by  their  own  line  and  measure.  I 
plead  nothing  of  merit  in  this  little  essay,  only  I  say  for 
It,  that  I  know  not  what  it  can  be  guilty  of  towards  this 
learned  man,  that  can  have  occasioned  this  a.ssauU  upon 
it  by  his  pen.  By  how  much  the  less  it  keeps  his  road,  the 
more  I  might  have  thought  it  out  of  the  way  of  his  notice. 
I  am  sure  it  meant  him  no  harm,  nor  had  any  design  to 
pilfer  from  him  any  part  of  his  collections.  But  he  says, 
he  may  not  let  it  pa.ss.  Then  there  is  no  remedy.  But  I 
wonder  what  he  should  mean  by  he  may  not.  It  must 
either  mean,  that  he  ihouijht  it  unlawful  to  let  it  pass,  or 
that  he  had  a  mighty  strong  and  irresistible  inclination  to 
.squabble  a  little  with  it.  The  former  cannot  be  imagined. 
For  then,  for  the  same  rea,son,  he  would  have  attempted 
sundry  others  of  former  and  later  days,  that  have  said 
much  to  the  purpose,  which  this  letter  doth  but  touch 
obiter,  and  on  the  bye,  in  its  way  to  another  design.  But 
those  were  giants,  whom  it  was  not  so  safe  to  meddle  with. 
Therefore  he  could  very  wisely  let  them  pass,  though  they 
have  wounded  his  beloved  cause,  beyond  all  that  it  is  in 
the  power  of  his  (or  any)  art  to  cure.  Whence  it  is  con- 
sequent, that  the  whole  business  must  be  resolved  into  the 
latter.  And  this  inclination  cannot  but  owe  itself  to  some 
peculiar  aspect  and  .  eference  he  had  to  the  author.  Whom, 
though  he  was  incognito,  yet  (as  I  have  been  informed) 
a  Court  of  tlie  Gentiles,  part  2,  page  522. 


he  professes  to  have  discoursed  with  upon  the  same  suo- 
ject  many  times.  And  so,  therefore,  he  miirht  once  more 
before  this  public  rencounter,  if  he  had  thought  fit,  and 
nature  could  have  been  repelled  awhile. 

it  is  true,  he  hath  found  me  not  facile  to  entertam  nis 
sentiments  in  this  matter.  And  indeed  I  have  deeply 
dreatled  the  portentous  imaginations  which  I  lound  had 
more  lightly  tinctured  his  mind,  as  to  this  thing,  concerning 
the  blessed  God.  Than  which,  upon  dehberalion,  I  do 
believe,  no  human  wit  can  ever  devise  worse.  As  I  have 
often  freely  told  divers  of  my  friends,  and  it  is  very  likely, 
among  them,  himself  Though  I  do  not  suspect  the  con- 
tagion to  have  infected  his  viials;  by  a  privilege,  vouch 
safed  to  some,  that  they  may  possibly  drink  some  deadly 
thing  that  shall  not  hurt  ihem.  But  why  must  an  impa- 
liency  of  this  dissent  break  out  into  so  vindictive  an  hos- 
tility ]  I  will  not  say  I  expected  more  friendly  dealing. 
For,  as  I  do  well  know  it  was  very  possible  such  a  jjublic 
contest  might  have  been  managed  with  that  candour  and 
fairness,  as  not  at  all  to  intrench  upon  friendship  ;  io,  as 
it  is,  I  need  not  own  so  much  weakness,  as  upon  many 
years'  experience,  not  to  be  able  to  distinguish  and  under- 
stand there  are  some  temjiers  less  capable  of  the  ingenui- 
ties that  belong  to  that  pleasant  relation.  But  it  was  only 
a  charitable  error,  of  which  I  repent  not,  that  I  expected  a 
more  righteous  dealing. 

He  pretends  to  give  my  sen.se  in  other  words,  and  then 
gravely  falls  to  combating  his  own  man  of  straw,  which  he 
will  have  represent  me,  and  so  I  am  to  be  tortured  in 
effigy.  It  can  never  be  proved,  that  it  implies  a  contra- 
diction, for  God  to  make  a  creature,  which  should  be  ca- 
pable of  acting  without  immediate  concourse.  This  he 
puts  in  a  difl^erent  character,  as  if  I  had  said  so  much. 
And  why  might  not  my  own  words  be  allowed  to  speak 
my  own  sense,  but  that  his  understanding  and  eyes  must 
then  have  conspiied  to  tell  him,  that  the  sense  would  have 
been  quite  another  1  It  is  only  a  predeterminative  concur- 
rence to  all  actions,  even  those  that  are  most  malignantly 
wicked,  (p.  117.)  and  again,  God's  concurring  by  a  deter- 
minative influence  unto  wicked  actions,  (Jhid.)  which  is 
the  only  thing  I  speak  of;  as  what  I  cannot  reconcile  with 
the  wisdom  and  sincerity  of  his  councils  and  exhortations, 
against  such  actions.  And  if  he  had  designed  to  serve  any 
common  good  end,  in  this  undertaking  of  his,  why  did  he 
not  attempt  to  reconcile  them  himself?  But  the  wi.sdom 
and  sincerity  of  God  are  thought  fit  (as  it  would  seem) 
to  be  sacrificed  to  the  reputation  of  his  more  peculiarly 
admired  schoolmen.  If  there  be  such  a  univer.sal  deter- 
mination, by  an  irresistible  Divine  influence,  to  all  even 
the  wickedest  actions,  (which  God  forbid  !)  methinks  such 
a  difficulty  should  not  be  so  ea.sily  past  over.  And  surely 
the  reconciling  such  a  determinative  influence,  with  the 
Divine  wisdom  and  sincerity,  had  been  a  peiformance 
worth  all  his  learned  labours  besides,  and  of  greater  ser- 
vice to  the  Christian  name  ar  d  lionour. 

But  it  seems  the  denying  concurrence  by  such  predeter- 
mining influence,  is  the  denying  of  all  immediate  con- 
currence. And  I  am  sent  to  the  Thomists,  Scotists,  Je- 
suits, and  Suarez,  more  especially  to  be  taught  oiliertvise. 
As  if  all  these  were  for  determinative  concourse.  Which 
is  very  pleasant,  when  the  very  heads  of  the  two  first- 
mentioned  sects  were  against  it,  as  we  shall  see  further 
anon,  the  third  generally,  and  Suarez  particularly,  whom 
he  names,  have  so  industriously  and  strongly  opposed  it. 
Yea  and  because  I  assent  not  to  the  doctrine  of  predetermi- 
native concourse,  I  am  rej)resented  (which  was  the  last 
spite  that  was  to  be  done  me)  as  a  favourer  of  the  hypo- 
theses of  Durandus.  And  he  might  as  truly  liave  said  of 
Henry  Nicholas,  but  not  so  prudently,  because  he  knows 
whose  opinions  have  a  nearer  alliance  to  that  family.  Kow 
I  heartily  wish  I  had  a  ground  for  so  much  charity  to- 
wards him,  as  to  suppo.se  him  ignorant  that  immediate 
concour.se,  and  determinative,  are  not  wont  to  be  used  by 
the  schoolmen,  in  this  controversy,  as  terms  of  the  same 
signification.  If  he  do  himself  think  them  to  be  all  one, 
what  warrant  is  that  to  him  to  give  the  same  for  my  sen.se  ? 
When  'lis  so  well  known  they  are  not  commonlv  so  taken, 
and  that  determinative  concourse  is  so  voluminously 
written  against,  where  immediate  is  expressly  asserted[ 


LETTER  ON  GOD'S  PRESCIENCE,  &c. 


129 


Let  him  but  soberly  iell  me,  what  his  design  was,  lo  dash 
out  the  word  determining  from  what  he  recites  of  that  letter, 
and  put  in  immediate,  which  he  knows  is  not  to  be  found 
in  any  of  the  places  he  refers  to  in  it.  Or  what  was  the 
spring  of  that  confidence  that  made  him  intimaie  the 
Scotists,  Thomists,  the  Jesuists,  and  particularly  Suarez, 
to  be  against  what  is  said  in  the  letter,  in  this  thing  ]  If 
he  could  procure  all  the  books  in  the  world  to  be  burnt, 
besides  those  in  his  own  library,  he  would  yet  have  a  harcj 
task  to  make  it  be  believed  inthe  next  age,  that  all  these 
were  for  God's  efficacious  determination  of  the  wills  of 
men  unto  wicked  actions. 

1  need  not,  after  all  this,  concern  m3rself  as  to  what  he 
says  about  the  no  medium  between  the  extremes  of  his  dis- 
junctive proposition.  Either  the  human  will  must  depend 
upon  the  divine  independent  will  of  God,  &c.  (as  he  phrases 
it  in  the  excess  of  his  caution,  lest  any  should  think  the 
will  of  God  was  not  a  divine  will,)  or  God  must  depend 
on  the  human  will,  &.c.  Unless  he  can  show  that  the 
human  will  cannot  be  said  to  depend  on  the  divine,  as 
being  enabled  by  it,  except  it  be  also  determined  and  im- 
pelled by  it,  to  every  wicked  action.  A  created  being  that 
was  entirely  from  God,  with  all  the  powers  and  faculties 
which  belong  to  it;  that  hath  its  continual  subsistence  in 
him,  and  all  tliose  powers  continued,  and  maintained  by 
his  influence  ever}''  moment;  that  hath  those  powers  made 
habile,  and  apt  for  whatsoever  its  most  natural  motions 
and  operations,  b}^  a  suitable  influence  whensoever  it  moves 
or  operates :  can  this  creature  be  said  not  to  depend,  as  to 
all  its  motions  and  operations,  unless  it  be  also  unavoid- 
ably impelled  to  do  every  thing  lo  which  it  is  thus  suf- 
ficiently enabled "? 

I  again  say,  was  it  impossible  to  God  to  make  such  a  crea- 
ture that  can,  in  lliis  case,  act  or  not  act  1  It  is  here  oddly 
enough  said,  that  the  author  gives  no  demonstration  hereof. 
Of  what  1  Why  that  it  can  never  be  proved  (as  the  reference 
to  the  foregoing  words  shows)  that  it  implies  a  contradic- 
tion, &c.  It  seems  it  was  expected  that  author  should 
have  proved  by  demonstration,  that  it  can  never  be  proved, 
that  it  implies  a  contradiction  for  God  to  make  a  creature, 
which  should  be  capable  of  acting  (as  he  feigns  him  to  have 
said)  without  immediate  concourse.  By  what  rule  of  rea- 
soning was  he  obliged  to  do  sol  But  if  the  proving  there 
is  such  a  creature,  as  in  the  case  before  expressed  can  act 
without  determinative  concourse,  will  serve  turn  to  prove, 
that  it  cannot  be  proved,  it  implies  a  contradiction  there 
should  be  such  a  one ;  I  may  think  the  thing  was  done. 
And  may  think  it  sulhciently  proved,  that  there  is  such  a 
creature  ;  if  it  appear  (whereof  there  is  too  much  proof) 
that  there  are  such  actions  done  by  creatures,  as  for  the 
reasons  that  were  before  alleged,  it  could  stand  with  the 
nature  of  God  to  determine  them  unto.  And  was  nothing 
said  tending  to  prove  this,  that  it  could  not  consist  with 
the  nature  of  God,  to  determine  men  unto  all  the  wicked 
actions  they  commit!  It  seems  unless  it  were  put  into 
mood  and  figure,  'tis  no  proof.  Nor  was  it  the  design  of 
those  papers  to  insist  upon  that  subject ;  but  there  are 
things  suggested  in  transi/u,  as  such  a  discourse  could 
admit,  that  whether  they  are  demonstrative  or  no,  would 
puzzle  a  considering  person.  That  God  should  have  as 
much  influence  and  concurrence  to  the  worst  actions,  as 
to  the  be.st.  As  much  or  more  than  the  sinner  or  the 
tempter.  That  the  matter  of  his  laws  to  Adam,  and  his 
posterity,  should  be  a  natural  impossibility.  And  I  now 
add,  the  irreconcileableness  of  that  determination,  with 
God's  wisdom  and  sincerit3\  &c.  These  I  shall  reckon 
demonstrations,  till  I  see  them  well  answered. 

However,  if  mine  were  a  bad  opinion,  why  was  it  not  as 
confutable  without  the  mention  of  Durandus  ?  But  that 
was,  with  him,  an  odious  name  ;  and  fit,  therefore,  to  im- 
press the  brand,  which  he  desired  I  should  wear  for  his 
sake.  This  is  a  likely  way  to  clear  the  truth  !  Yet  if  it 
serve  not  one  design,  it  will  another,  he  thinks,  upon  which 
he  was  more  intent.  A  re  all  for  Durandus's  way  that  ai'e 
against  a  predeterminative  influence  to  wicked  actions  ? 
I  could  tell  him  who  have  shown  more  strength  in  arguing 
against  Durandus,  than  I  find  in  all  his  arguments :  who 
yet  have  written,  too,  against  determinative  concourse  to 
such  actions,  more  than  ever  he  will  be  able  to  answer,  or 

b  L.  2.  Dist.  1.  Q,.  5.  D.  37.  Q.  1.  c  Dist.  1.  2.  5.  ut  siipr. 


any  man.  The  truth  is,  when  I  wrote  that  letter,  I  had 
never  seen  Durandus.  Nor  indeed  did  I  consult  any  book 
for  the  writing  of  it,  (as  I  had  not  opportunity,  if  1  had 
been  so  inclined,)  except,  upon  some  occasions,  the  Bible. 
Not  apprehending  it  necessary  to  number  votes,  and  con- 
sider how  many  men's  thoughts  were  one  way,  and  of  how 
many  the  other,  before  1  would  adventure  to  think  any  of 
my  own.  But  I  have  this  day,  upon  the  view  of  his  ani- 
madversions, taken  a  view  of  Durandus  too:  and  really 
cannot  yet  guess  what  should  tempt  him  to  parallel  my 
conceptions  with  Durandu.s's,  but  that  he  took  his  for  some- 
what an  ill-favoured  name.  Durandus  flatly,  in  several 
places,  denies  God's  immediate  concourse  to  the  actions  of 
the  creatures,  b  Which  I  never  said  nor  thought ;  but  do 
really  believe  his  immediate  concourse,  to  all  actions  of  his 
creatures  both  immcdiatione  virtutis,  and  supposili,  (that 
I  may  more  comply  with  his  scholastic  humour,  in  the  use 
of  such  terms,  than  gratify  my  own,)  yet  not  determina- 
tive unto  wicked  actions. 

Again,  Durandus  denies  immediate  concourse,  univer- 
sally, and  upon  such  a  ground,  as  whereupon,  the  denial 
must  eqtially  extend  to  good  actions  as  to  bad  ;  riz.  that 
'tis  impossible  the  same  numerical  action  should  be  ixum 
two  or  more  agents  immediately  and  perlectl)',  except  the 
same  numerical  virtue  should  be  in  each.  But  he  says 
the  same  numerical  virtue  cannot  be  in  God  and  in  the 
creature,  &e.  =  Whereas  he  well  knows  the  concourse  or 
influence  (for  I  here  affect  not  the  curiosity  lo  distinguish 
these  two  terms,  as  some  dfi)  which  I  deny  not  to  be  im- 
mediate to  any  actions,  I  only  deny  lo  be  deieiminative,  as 
to  those  which  are  wicked.  Yea,  and  the  authors  he  quotes, 
(sec.  11.)  Aquinas  and  Scotiis,  though  every  body  may 
know  they  are  against  what  was  ihe  notion  of  Durandus, 
yet  are  as  much  against  himself,  if  he  will  directly  oppose 
that  letter,  and  assert  determinative  concourse,  to  wicked 
actions.  They  held  immediate  concourse  not  determina- 
tive. The  former,  though  he  supposes  Divine  help  in 
reference  to  the  elections  of  the  human  will,  yet  asserts  the 
elections  themselves  to  be  in  man's  own  power,  and  only 
says  that  in  the  executions  of  those  elections  men  can  be 
hindered.  That  (whatsoever  influence  he  asserts  of  the 
first  cause)  men  still,  habent  se  in  differ  enter  ad  bent  vel 
malt  eligendum.  >'  The  other,  though  he  also  excludes  not 
the  immediate  efficacy  of  God  in  reference  to  the  actions 
of  men,  yet  is  so  far  from  making  it  determinative,  that  ihe 
reason  he  gives  why,  in  evil  actions,  man  sins,  and  God 
does  not,  is  that  the  one  of  those  causes  posset  rcctitudinem 
dare  actui  qvam  tenctur  dare:  ct  tamen  non  dut.  Alia 
autem,  licet  non  tencotiir  cam  dare:  tamen  quantvvi  est  ex 
se  daret,  sivohintas  creata  co-nperarclur ; '  in  the  veiy  place 
which  himself  refers  to.  Wherein  they  dift'er  from  this 
author  toto  ca;lo,  and  from  me,  in  that  they  make  not  deter- 
minative influence  necessary  in  reference  to  good  actions, 
which  I  expressly  do. 

Thus  far  it  may  be  seen  what  pretence  or  colour  he  had 
to  make  my  opinions  the  same  with  Durandus's,  or  his 
own  the  same  with  that  of  Thomas  and  Scotus.  But  if 
he  knew  in  what  esteem  I  have  the  schoolmen,  he  would 
hardly  believe  me  likely  to  step  one  foot  out  of  my  way, 
either  to  gain  the  reputation  of  any  of  their  names,  or  avoid 
the  disreputation.  He,  notwithstanding,  supposed  his  own 
reputation  to  be  so  good  (and  I  know  no  reason  why  he 
might  not  suppose  so)  as  to  make  it  be  believed  1  was  any 
thing  he  pleased  to  call  me,  by  such  as  had  not  opportunity 
to  be  otherwise  informed.  And  thus  1  would  take  leave  of 
him,  and  permit  him  to  use  his  own  reflections  upon  his 
usage  of  me,  at  his  own  leisure  ;  but  that  civility  bids  me 
(since  he  is  pleased  to  be  at  the  pains  of  catechising  me) 
first  to  give  some  answer  to  the  questions  wherein  he  thus 
expostulates  with  me. 

CI.  1.  Whether  there  be  any  action  of  man  on  earth  so 
good,  which  hath  not  some  mixture  of  sin  in  if?  And  if 
God  concur  lo  the  substrate  matter  of  it  as  good,  must  he 
not  necessarily  concur  to  the  substrate  matter  as  sinful  1 
For  is  not  the  substrate  matter  of  the  act,  boih  as  good  and 
sinful,  the  same  1 

A.  1.  It  seems  then,  that  God  doth  concur  to  the  matter 
of  an  action  as  .sinful.  Which  is  honestly  acknowledged, 
since  by  his  principles  it  cannot  be  denied;  though  most 

d  la  Q.  83.  c  L.  2.  Dist.  27.  Q.  2. 


130 


A  POSTSCRIPT  TO  THE 


of  hh  way  mince  the  business,  and  say  the  concurrence 
is  only  to  the  action  which  is  sinful,  not  as  sinful. 

2.  This  I  am  to  consider  as  an  argument  fur  God's  pre- 
determinalive  concurrence  to  wicked  actions.  And  thus  it 
must  be  conceived  :  That  if  God  concur  by  determinative 
influence  to  the  imperfectly  good  actions  of  faith,  repent- 
ance, lov^e  to  himself,  prayer ;  therefore  to  the  acts  of  en- 
mity against  himself,  cursing,  idolatry,  blasphemy,  &c. 
And  is  it  not  a  mighty  consequence  1  If  to  actions  that 
are  good  quoad  substantiam,  therefore  to  such  as  are  in  the 
substance  of  them  evil  1  We  ourselves  can,  in  a  remoter 
kind,  concur  to  the  actions  of  others :  because  you  nray 
afford,  yourself,  your  leading  concurrence  to  actions  im- 
perfectly good,  therefore  may  you  to  them  that  are  down- 
right evil  1  because  to  prayer,  therefore  to  cursing  and 
swearing  1  and  then  ruin  men  for  the  actions  you  induced 
.hem  to  1  You  will  say,  God  may  rather,  but  sure  he  can 
much  less  do  so  than  you.  How  could  you  be  serious  in 
.he  proposal  of  this  question  1 

We  are  at  a  loss  how  it  should  consist  with  the  Divine 
wisdom,  justice,  goodness,  and  truth,  to  design  the  punish- 
ing man,  yet  innocent,  with  everlasting  torments,  for  ac- 
tions which  God,  himself,  would  irresistibly  move  him  to ; 
whereas  his  making  a  covenant  with  Adam  in  reference 
■.0  himself  and  his  posterity,  implied  there  was  a  possibility 
it  might  be  kept;  at  least  that  he  would  not  make  the 
keeping  of  it,  by  his  own  positive  influence,  impossible. 
And  you  say,  if  he  might  concur  to  the  substrate  matter 
of  an  action  as  good,  (which  tends  to  man's  salvation  and 
blessedness,)  he  must  necessarily  concur  (and  that  by  an 
.rresistible  determinative  influence,  else  you  say  nothing 
10  me)  to  the  substrate  matter  of  all  their  evil  actions,  as 
2vil,  which  tend  to  their  ruin  and  misery,  brought  upon 
'.hem  by  the  actions  which  God  makes  them  do.  I  sup- 
pose St'  Luke  vi.  9.  with  Hos.  xiii.  9.  show  a  ditference.  If 
you  therefore  ask  me,  why  I  should  not  admit  this  conse- 
quence 1  I  say  it  needs  no  otlier  answer,  than  that  I  take 
wisdom,  righteousness,  goodness,  and  truth,  to  belong 
more  to  the  idea  of  God,  than  their  contraries. 

CL.  3.  Is  there  any  action  so  sinful  that  hath  not  some 
natural  good  as  the  substrate  matter  thereof? 

A.  True.  And  what  shall  be  inferred  1  That  therefore 
God  must  by  a  determinative  influence  produce  every 
such  action  whatsoever  reason  there  be  against  it  %  You 
might  better  argue  thence  the  necessity  of  his  producing, 
every  hour,  a  new  world;  in  which  there  would  be  a  great 
deal  more  of  positive  entity,  and  natural  goodness.  Cer- 
tainly the  natural  goodness  that  is  in  the  entity  of  an  action, 
is  no  such  invitation  to  the  holy  God  by  determinative 
influence  to  produce  it,  as  that  he  should  offer  violence 
to  his  own  nature,  and  stain  the  justice  and  honour  of  his 
government,  by  making  it  be  done,  and  then  punish  it 
being  done. 

Q,.  3.  Do  we  not  cut  off  the  most  illustrious  part  of 
Divine  Providence  in  governing  the  lower  world,  &c.  ? 

A.  What  1  by  denying  that  'tis  the  stated  way  of  God's 
government,  to  urge  men,  irresistibly,  to  all  that  wicked- 
ness, for  which  he  will  afterwards  punish  them  with  ever- 
lasting torments  1  I  should  least  of  all  ever  have  expected 
such  a  question  to  this  purpose,  and  am  ashamed  further 
to  answer  it.  Only  name  any  act  of  providence,  I  hereby 
deny,  if  you  can.  In  the  next  place,  that  my  sense  may 
appear  in  my  own  words ;  and  that  I  may  show  how  far 
I  am  of  the  same  mind  with  those  that  apprehend  me  at 
so  vast  a  distance  from  them;  and  where,  if  they  go  fur- 
ther, our  parting  point  must  be  ;  I  shall  set  down  the  par- 
ticulars of  my  agreement  with  them,  and  do  it  in  no  other 
heads  than  they  might  have  collected,  if  they  had  pleased, 
out  of  that  letter.     As, 

1.  That  God  exerciseth  a  universal  providence  about 
all  his  creatures,  both  in  sustaining  and  governing  them. 

2.  That,  more  particularly,  he  exerciseth  such  a  provi- 
dence about  man. 

3.  That  this  providence  about  man  extends  to  all  the 
actions  of  all  men. 

4.  That  it  consists  not  alone  in  beholding  the  actions  of 
men,  as  if  he  were  a  mere  spectator  of  them  only,  but  is 
positively  active  about  them. 

5.  That  this  active  providence  of  God  about  all  the 
actions  of  men  consists  not  merely  in  giving  them  the  natu- 


ral powers,  whereby  they  can  work  of  themselves,  but  in  a 
real  influence  upon  those  powers. 

6.  That  this  influence  is  in  reference  to  holy  and  spirit- 
ual actions  (whereto  since  the  apostacy  the  nature  of  man 
is  become  viciously  disinclined)  necessary  to  be  effica- 
ciously determinative;  such  as  shall  overcome  that  disin- 
clination, and  redirce  those  powers  into  act. 

7.  That  the  ordinary,  appointed  way  for  the  communi- 
cation of  this  determinative  influence,  is  by  our  intervening 
consideration  of  the  inducements  which  God  represents  to 
us  in  his  word,  viz.  the  precepts,  promises,  and  commina- 
tions,  which  are  the  moral  instruments  of  his  government. 
No  doubt  but  he  may  (as  is  intimated  in  the  letter)  extra- 
ordinarily act  men  in  some  rarer  cases,  by  inward  impulse, 
without  the  help  of  such  external  means,  as  he  did  pro- 
phets or  inspired  persons ;  and  when  he  hath  done  so,  we 
were  not  to  think  he  treated  them  unagreeably  to  their 
natures,  or  so  as  their  natures  could  not,  without  violence, 
admit.  But  it  hath  been  the  care  and  designment  of  the 
Divine  wisdom,  so  to  order  the  way  of  dispensation  to- 
wards the  several  sorts  of  creatures,  as  not  only  not,  ordi- 
narily, to  impose  upon  them  what  they  could  not  conve- 
niently be  patient  of,  but  so  as  that  their  poM'ers  and 
faculties  might  be  put  upon  the  exercises  whereof  they 
were  capable,  and  to  provide  that  neither  their  passive 
capacity  should  he  overcharged,  nor  their  active  be  unem- 
ployed. And  whereas  the  reasonable  nature  of  man  renders 
him  not  only  susceptible  of  unexpected  internal  impres- 
sions, but  also  capaole  of  being  governed  by  laws,  which 
requires  the  use  of  his  own  endeavour  to  understand  and 
obey  them;  and  whereas  we  also  find  such  laws  are  actu- 
ally made  for  him,  and  propounded  to  him  with  their  prc>- 
per  enforcements.  If  it  should  be  the  fixed  course  of  God's 
government  over  him,  only  to  guide  him  by  inward  im- 
pulses ;  this  (as  is  said  in  that  letter)  would  render  those 
laws  and  their  sanctions  impertinencies,  his  faculties 
whereby  he  is  capable  of  moral  government  so  far,  and 
to  this  purpose,  useless  and  vain ;  and  would  be  an  occa- 
sion, which  the  depraved  nature  of  man  would  be  very  apt 
to  abuse  into  a  temptation  to  them,  never  to  bind  their 
powers  to  the  endeavour  of  doing  any  thing  that  were 
of  a  holy  and  spiritual  tendency,  (from  which  their  aver- 
sion would  be  always  prompting  them  to  devise  excuses,) 
more  than  a  mere  machine  would  apply  itself  to  the  uses 
which  it  was  made  for  and  doth  not  understand. 

Therefore,  lest  any  should  be  so  unreasonable,  as  to  ex- 
pect God  should  only  surprise  them,Avhile  they  resolvedly 
sit  still  and  sleep;  he  hath,  in  his  infinite  wisdom,  with- 
held from  them  the  occa'  ion  hereof;  and  left  them  desti- 
tute of  any  encouragement  (whatsoever  his  extraordinary 
dealings  may  have  been  with  some)  to  expect  his  influ- 
ences, in  the  neglect  of  his  ordinary  methods,  as  is  dis- 
coursed p.  121.  and  at  large  in  the  following  pases.  And 
which  is  the  plain  sense  of  that  admonition,  Phil.  ii.  12, 
13.  Yea,  and  though  there  be  never  so  many  instances  of 
merciful  surprisals,  preventive  of  all  our  own  considera- 
tion and  care,  yet  those  are  still  to  be  accounted  the  ordi- 
nary methods  which  are  so  dc  jure,  which  would  actually 
be  so,  if  men  did  their  duty,  and  which  God  hath  obliged 
us  to  observe  and  attend  unto  as  such. 

8.  That  in  reference  to  all  other  actions  which  are  no; 
sinful,  though  there  be  not  a  sinful  disinclination  to  them, 
yet  because  there  may  be  a  sluggishness  and  ineptitude  to 
some  purposes  God  intends  to  serve  by  them,  this  influ- 
ence is  also  always  determinative  thereunto;  whensoever 
to  the  immense  wisdom  of  God  shall  seem  meet,  and  con- 
ducing to  his  own  great  and  holy  ends. 

9.  That,  in  reference  to  sinful  actions,  by  this  influence 
God  doth  not  only  sustain  men  who  do  them,  and  con- 
tinue to  them  their  natural  faculties  and  powers,  whereby 
they  are  done,  but  also,  as  the  first  mover,  so  far  excite 
and  actuate  those  powers,  as  that  they  are  apt  and  habile 
for  any  congenerous  action,  to  which  they  have  a  natural 
designation ;  and  whereto  they  are  not  sinfully  disin- 
clined. 

10.  That,  if  men  do  then  employ  them  to  the  doing  of 
any  sinful  action  ;  by  that  same  influence,  he  doth,  as  to 
him  seems  meet,  limit,  moderate,  and,  against  the  inclina- 
tion and  design  of  the  sinful  agent,  overrule  and  dispose 
it  to  good.     But  now  if,  besides  all  this,  they  will  also 


LETTER  ON  GOD'S  PRESCIENCE,  &c. 


131 


assert;  that  God  doth,  by  an  efflcacious  influence,  move 
and  determine  men  to  wicked  actions.  This  is  that 
which  I  most  resolvedly  deny.  Tliat  is,  in  this  I  shall 
ditfer  with  them,  that  I  do  not  suppose  God  to  have,  by  in- 
ternal influence,  as  far  a  hand  in  the  worst  and  wickedest 
actions,  as  in  the  best.  I  assert  more  to  be  necessary  to 
actions  to  which  men  are  wickedly  disinclined  ;  but  that 
less  will  suffice  for  their  doing  of  actions  to  which  they 
have  inclination  more  than  enough.  I  reckon  it  sufficient 
to  the  production  of  this  latter  sort  of  actions,  that  their 
powers  be  actually  habile,  and  apt  for  any  such  action,  in 
the  general,  as  is  connatural  to  them  ;  supposing  there  be 
not  a  peccant  aversion,  as  there  is  to  all  those  actions  that 
are  holy  and  spiritual ;  which  aversion  a  more  potent 
(even  a  determinative)  influence  is  necessary  to  overcome. 
I  explain  myself  by  instance. 

A  man  hath  from  God  the  powers  belonging  to  his  na- 
ture, by  which  he  is  capable  of  loving  or  hating  an  appre- 
hended good  or  evil.  These  powers  being,  by  a  present 
Divine  influence,  rendered  habile,  and  apt  for  action;  he 
can  now  love  a  good  name,  health,  ease,  life,  and  hate  dis- 
grace, sickness,  pain,  death :  but  he  doth  also  by  these 
powers,  thus  habilitated  for  action,  love  wickedness,  and 
hate  God.  I  say,  now,  that  to  those  former  acts  God 
should  over  and  besides  determine  him,  is  not  absolutely 
and  always  necessary ;  and  to  the  latter,  is  impossible. 
But  that,  to  hate  wickedness  universally,  and  as  such,  and 
to  love  God,  the  depravedness  of  his  nature,  by  the  apos- 
tacy,  hath  made  the  determinative  influence  of  efficacious 
grace  necessary.  Which,  therrfore,  he  hath  indispensable 
obligation  (nor  is  destitute  of  encouragement)  earnestly  to 
implore  and  pray  for.  My  meaning  is  noAV  plain  to  such 
as  have  a  mind  to  understand  it. 

Having  thus  given  an  account  wherein  I  agree  Avith 
them,  and  wherein,  if  they  please,  I  must  differ.  It  may 
perhaps  be  expected  I  should  add  further  reasons  of  that 
difference  on  my  part.  But  I  ;hall  for  the  present  forbear 
to  do  it.     I  know  it  may  be  alleged,  that  some  very  pious 


as  well  as  learned  men  have  been  of  their  opinion.  And 
I  seriously  believe  it.  But  that  signifies  nothing  to  the 
goodness  of  the  opinion.  Nor  doth  the  badness  of  it  ex- 
tinguish my  charity  nor  reverence  towards  the  men.  For 
I  consider,  that  as  many  hold  the  most  important  truths, 
and  which  most  directly  tend  to  impress  the  image  of  God 
upon  their  souls,  that  yet  are  never  stamped  with  any  such 
impression  thereby ;  so,  it  is  not  impossible  some  may  have 
held  v^ery  dangerous  opinions,  with  a  notional  judgment, 
the  pernicious  influence  wheieof  hath  never  distilled  upon 
their  hearts.  Neither  shall  I  be  willing  without  necessity 
to  detect  other  men's  infirmities.  Yet  if  I  find  myself  any 
way  obliged  further  to  intermeddle  in  this  matter.  I  reckou 
the  time  I  have  to  spend  in  this  world,  can  never  be  spent 
to  better  purpose,  than  in  discovering  the  fearful  conse- 
quences of  that  rejected  opinion,  the  vanity  of  the  subter- 
fuges whereby  its  assertors  think  to  hide  the  malignity  of 
it ;  and  the  ineflicacy  of  the  arguments  brought  for  it. 
Especially  those  two  which  the  letter  takes  notice  of.  For 
as  so  ill-coloured  an  opinion  ought  never  to  be  admitted 
without  the  most  apparent  necessity,  so  do  I  think  it  most 
apparent  there  is  no  necessity  it  should  be  admitted  upon 
those  grounds  or  any  other.  And  doubt  not  but  that  both 
the  governing  providence  of  God  in  reference  to  all  events 
whatsoever,  and  his  most  certain  foreknowledge  of  them 
all,  may  be  defended,  against  all  opposers,  without  it.  But 
I  had  rather  my  preparations  to  these  purposes  should  be 
buried  in  dust  and  silence;  than  I  should  ever  see  the 
occasion  which  should  carry  the  signification  with  it  of 
their  being  at  all  needful.  And  I  shall  take  it  for  a  just 
and  most  deplorable  occasion,  if  I  shall  find  any  to  assert 
against  me  the  contradictory  to  this  proposition  : — That 
doth  not  by  an  efficacious  influence,  universally  move  and 
determine  men  to  all  their  actions ;  even  those  that  are 
most  wicked. — Which  is  the  only  true  and  plain  meaning 
of  what  was  said,  about  this  ousiness,  in  the  before-men- 
tioned letter. 


MA  N'S    CREATION 


A  HOLY  BUT  MUTABLE  STATE. 


1 


ECCLES.  VII.  29. 


LO,  THIS  ONLY  HAVE  I  FOUND,  THAT  GOD  HATH  MADE  MAN  UPRIGHT  ;  TUT  THEY  HAVE  SOUGHT  OUT  MANY  INTENTIONS. 


In  these  words  you  have  the  result  of  a  serious  inquiry 
into  the  state  of  mankind.  In  the  verse  immediately  fore- 
going, the  preacher  speaks  his  own  experience,  touching 
each  sex  distributively ;  how  rare  it  was  to  meet  with  a 
wise  and  good  man,  how  much  rarer  with  a  prudent  and 
virtuous  woman ;  (so  he  must  be  understood,  though  these 
qualities  are  not  expressed;)  then  in  the  text  gives  this 
verdict  touching  both  collectively,  tending  to  acquit  their 
Maker  of  their  universal  depravation,  and  convict  them. 
"  Lo,  this  only  have  I  found,"  &e. 

The  words  contain  two  propositions. — The  first  touching 
man's  perfection  by  his  creation,  "  God  made,"  &c.  The 
second  touching  his  defection  by  sin,  "  But  they  have 
sought,"  &c.  Together  with  a  solemn  preface  introducing 
both,  and  recommending  them  as  well-weighed  truths, 
"  Lo,  this  only  have  I  found,"  &c.  q.  d.  "  I  do  not  now  speak 
at  random,  and  by  guess ;  no,  but  I  solemnly  pronounce  it, 
as  that  which  I  have  found  out  by  serious  study  and  dili- 
gent exploration,  that  God  made  man  upright,"  &c.  The 
terms  are  not  obscure,  and  are  fitly  rendered.  I  find  no 
considerable  variety  of  readings,  and  cannot  needlessly 
spend  time  about  words.  Only  in  short, — By  man  you 
must  understand  man  collectively,  so  as  to  comprehend 
the  whole  species. — Making  him  upright,  you  must  under- 
stand so  as  to  refer  malcing  not  to  the  adjunct  onlv, 
supposing  the  subject  pre-existent,  but  to  both  subject  and 
adjunct  together;  and  so  'tis  man's  concreate  and  original 
righteousness  that  is  here  meant. — By  i?ivcntions  under- 
stand (as  the  antithesis  doth  direct)  such  as  are  alien  from 
this  rectitude.  Nor  is  it  altogether  improbable  that  in  this 
expression,  some  reference  may  be  had  to  that  curious  de- 
sire of  knowing  much  that  tempted  Adam  and  Eve  into 
the  first  transgression. — Many  inventions,  seems  to  be  spo- 
ken in  opposition  to  that  simplicity  and  singleness  of  heart 
which  this  original  rectitude  did  include  ;  truth  is  but  one ; 
falsehood,  manifold.  God  made  man  upright,  i.e.  simple, 
plain-hearted,  free  from  all  tortuous  windings,  and  invo- 
lutions. (So  the  word  rendered  upright  in  the  text  doth 
signify ;  and  Jeshurun  derived  therefrom,  which  God 
thought  a  fit  name  for  his  people  Israel,  the  seed  of  plain- 
hearted  Jacob,  to  be  known  by;  answerably  whereto  Na- 
thanael  is  said  to  be  a  true  Israelite,''  in  whom  was  no 
guile.)  Such  man  was  at  first;  now,  in  the  room  of  this 
simplicity,  you  find  a  multiplicity  :  he  was  of  one  constant, 
uniform  frame  and  tenorof  spirit,  held  one  straight,  direct, 
and  even  course;  now  he  is  become  full  of  inventions, 
grown  vafrons,  multiform  as  to  the  frame  of  his  spirit,  im- 
certain,  intricate,  perplexed  in  all  his  ways. — Sought  out, 
this  notes  the  voluntariness,  and  perfect  spontaneity  of  his 
defection  ;  'twas  his  own  doing.  God  made  him  upright ; 
he  hath  sought  out  means  to  deform  and  undo  himself. — 
The  words  thus  opened  afford  us  two  great  go.spel  truths. 


Doct.  1.  That  God  endued  the  nature  of  man,  in  his 
creation,  with  a  perfect  and  universal  rectitude. 

2.  That  man's  defection  from  his  primitive  state  was 

Eurely  voluntary,  and  from  the  unconstrained  choice  of 
is  own  mutable  and  self-determining  will. 

(Though  the  latter  part  of  the  text  would  afford  a  suf- 
ficient ground  to  treat  of  the  state  of  man  now  fallen  ;  yet 
that  being  by  agreement  left  to  another  hand,  I  observe  no 
more  from  it  than  what  concerns  the  manner  of  his  fall, 
and  that  only  as  it  depended  on  a  mutable  will.)  In 
handling  these  truths,  I  shall, 

1.  Open  them  in  certain  explicatory  theses.  2.  Improve 
them  in  some  few  practical  and  applicatory  inferences. 

1.  About  the  former — that  God  endued,  &c. — take  these 
propositions  for  explication. 

Prop.  I.  All  created  rectitude  consists  in  conformity  lo 
some  rule  or  law.  Rectitude  is  a  mere  relative  thing,  and 
its  relation  is  lo  a  rule.  By  a  rule,  I  here  mean  a  law 
strictly  taken ;  and  therefore  I  speak  this  only  of  created 
rectitude.  A  law,  is  a  rule  of  duty  given  by  a  superior  to 
an  inferior ;  nothing  can  be  in  that  sense  a  rule  to  God,  or 
the  measure  of  increated  rectitude. 

Prop.  2.  The  highest  rule  of  all  created  rectitude,  is 
the  will  of  God,  considered  as  including  most  intrinsically 
an  eternal  and  immutable  reason,  justice,  and  goodness. 
'Tis  certain,  there  can  be  no  higher  rule  to  creatures  than 
the  Divine  will  ;b  and  as  certain  that  the  government  of 
God  over  his  creatures,  is  always  reasonable,  and  just,  and 
gracious;  and  that  this  reasonableness,  justice,  and  good- 
ness, by  which  it  is  so,  should  be  subjected  any  where  but 
in  God  himself,  none  that  know  what  God  is,  according  to 
our  more  obvious  notions  of  him,  can  possibly  think. 

Prop.  3.  Any  sufficient  signification  of  this  will,  touch- 
ing the  reasonable  creature's  dnty,  is  a  law,  indispensably 
obliging  such  a  creature.  A  law  is  a  constitution  de  debito, 
and  'tis  the  legislator's  will  (not  concealed  in  his  own 
breast,  but)  duly  expressed  that  makes  this  constitution, 
and  infers  an  obligation  on  the  subject. 

Prop.  4.  The  law  given  to  Adam  at  his  creation  wa.s 
partly  natural,  given  by  way  of  internal  impression  upon 
his  soul ;  partly  positive,  given  (as  is  probable)  by  some 
more  external  discovery  or  revelation.  That  the  main 
body  of  law,  whereby  man  was  to  be  governed,  should  be 
at  first  given  no  other  way  than  by  stamping  them  upon 
his  mind  and  heart,  was  a  thing  congrnous  enough  to  his 
innocent  state  ;  (as  it  is  to  angels  and  saints  in  glory ;)  it 
being  then  exactly  contempered  to  his  nature,  highly  ap- 
provable  to  his  reason,  (as  is  evident,  in  that  being  fallen, 
his  reason  ceases  not  to  approve  it,  Rom.  ii.  18.)  fully 
suitable  to  the  inclination  and  tendency  of  his  will,  and 
not  at  all  regretted  by  any  reluctant  principle  that  might 
in  the  least  oppose  or  render  him  doubtful  about  his  duty, 

b  Rom.  vii.  IS.  xii.  1,  2.  Ezck.  n-iii.  25.  chap,  xxxiii. 


MAN  CREATED  MUTABLE. 


133 


Yet  was  it  most  reasonable  also,  that  some  positive 
commands  should  be  superadded,  that  God's  right  of  do- 
minion and  government  over  him  as  Creator,  might  be 
more  expressly  asserted,  and  he  might  more  fully  appre- 
hend his  own  obligation  as  a  creature  to  do  some  things, 
because  it  was  his  Maker's  will,  as  well  as  others,  because 
they  appeared  to  him  in  their  own  nature  reasonable  and 
fit  to  be  done  ;  for  so  the  whole  of  what  God  requires  of 
man,  is  fitly  distinguished  into  some  things  which  he  com- 
mands because  they  are  just,  and  some  things  that  are 
just  because  he  commands  them. 

Prop.  5.  Adam  was  endued  in  his  creation  with  a  suf- 
ficient ability  and  habitude  to  conform  to  this  whole  law, 
both  natural  and  positive;  in  which  ability  and  habitude 
his  original  recitude  did  consist.  This  proposition  carries 
in  it  the  main  truth  we  have  now  in  hand,  therefore  re- 
quires to  be  more  distinctly  insisted  on.  There  are  two 
things  in  it  to  be  considered — the  thing  itself  he  was  en- 
dued with — the  manner  of  the  endowment. 

1.  The  thing  itself  wherewith  he  was  endued.  That 
was  uprightness,  rectitude,  (otherwise  called  the  image  of 
God,  though  that  expression  comprehends  more  than  we 
now  speak  of,  as  his  immortality,  dominion  over  the  in- 
ferior creatures,  »&c.)  which  uprightness  or  rectitude  con- 
sisted in  the  habitual  conformity,  or  conformability,  of  all 
his  natural  powers  to  this  whole  law  of  God ;  and  is  there- 
fore considerable  two  ways,  viz.  in  relation  to  its  subject, 
and  its  rule. 

1.  In  relation  to  its  subject ;  that  was  the  whole  soul, 
(ia  some  sense  it  may  be  said  the  whole  man,)  even  the 
several  powers  of  it.  And  here  we  are  led  to  consider  the 
parts  of  this  rectitude,  for  'tis  co-extended  (if  that  phrase 
may  be  allowed)  with  its  subject,  and  lies  spread  out  into 
the  several  powers  of  the  soul ;  for  had  any  power  been 
left  destitute  of  it,  such  is  the  frame  of  man,  and  the  de- 
pendence of  his  natural  powers  on  each  other,  in  order  to 
action,  that  it  had  disabled  him  to  obey,  and  had  destroyed 
his  rectitude  ;  for  bonum  non  oritur  nisi  ex  causis  integris, 
malum  vero  ex  quovis  defectu.  And  hence  (as  Davenanf^ 
well  observes)  according  to  the  parts  (if  I  may  so  speak) 
of  the  subject  wherein  it  was,  man's  original  rectitude 
must  be  understood  to  consist  of, 

1.  A  perfect  illumination  of  mind  to  understand  and 
imow  the  will  of  God.  2.  A  compliance  of  heart  and  will 
therewith.  3.  An  obedient  subordination  of  the  sensitive 
appetite,  and  other  inferior  powers,  that  in  nothing  they 
might  resist  the  former.  That  it  comprehends  all  these, 
appears  by  comparing  Col.  iii.  10.  where  the  image  of 
God,  wherein  man  was  created,  is  said  to  consist  in  know- 
ledge, that  hath  its  seat  and  subject  in  the  mind,  with  Eph. 
iv.  24.  where  righteousness  and  holiness  are  also  mention- 
ed; the  one  whereof  consists  in  equity  towards  men,  the 
other  in  loyalty  and  devotedness  to  God ;  both  which  neces- 
sarily suppose  the  due  framing  of  the  other  powers  of  the 
soul,  to  the  ducture  of  an  enlightened  mind  And  besides, 
that  work  of  sanctification  (which  in  these  scriptures  is 
expressly  called  a  renovation  of  man  according  to  the  im- 
age of  God  wherein  he  was  created)  doth  in  other  scrip- 
tures appear  (a.s  the  forementioned  author  also  observes) 
to  consist  of  parts  proportionable  to  these  I  mention,  riz. 
illumination  of  mind,  Ephes.  i.  18.  conversion  of  heart,  Ps. 
li.  10.  victory  over  concupiscence,  Rom.  vi.  7,  throughout. 

2.  Consider  this  recitude  in  relation  to  its  rule  ;  that  is, 
the  will  of  God  revealed,d  or  the  law  of  God.  Sin  is  the 
transgression  of  the  law  ;  and  accordingly  righteousness 
must  needs  be  conformity  to  the  law  ;  viz.  actual  righte- 
ousness consists  in  actual  conformity  to  the  law  ;  that 
habitual  rectitude  which  Adam  was  furnished  with  in  his 
creation,  (of  which  we  are  speaking,)  in  an  habitual  con- 
formity, or  an  ability  to  conform  to  the  same  law.  This 
habitual  conformity  was,  as  of  the  whole  soul,  so  to  the 
whole  law,  i.  e.  to  both,  the  parts  or  kinds  of  it,  natural 
and  positive.  He  was  furnished  with  particular  princi- 
ples, inclining  him  to  comply  with  whatsoever  the  law  of 
nature  had  laid  before  him  ;  and  with  a  general  principle, 
disposing  him  to  jield  to  whatsoever  any  positive  law 
should  lay  before  him  as  the  will  of  God.  And  if  it  be  said, 

c  Davcnant  de  justitiahabituali,  &c.  d  1  John  iii.  4. 

e  Aquin.  Sumin.  f  Aug.  de  civitate  Dei. 

e  1  Kings  viii.  46.  Psal.  xiv.  l.  Rom.  iii.  12,  &c.  cap.  v.  12, 13,  &c.  1  John 
V.  19,  &c. 

13 


(in  reference  to  the  former  of  these,)  that  this  law  of  na- 
ture impressed  upon  Adam's  soul,  was  his  very  rectitude; 
therefore  how  can  this  rectitude  be  a  conformity  to  this 
law?  I  answer,  1.  A  law  is  twofold,  regnlans,  regulator. * 
•2.  The  law  of  nature  impressed  upon  the  .soul  of  Adam, 
must  be  considered; — 1.  as  subjected  in  his  mind;  soil 
consisted  of  certain  practical  notions  about  good  and  evil, 
right  and  wrong,  &c.— 2.  as  subjected  in  his  heart,  so  it 
consisted  in  certain  habitual  inclinations  to  conform  to 
those  principles.  Now  these  inclinations  of  the  heart, 
though  they  are  a  rule  to  actions,  thej'  are  yet  something 
ruled  in  reference  to  those  notions  in  the  mind ;  and  their 
conformity  thereto  makes  one  part  of  original  rectitude. 
And  those  notions,  though  they  are  a  rule  to  these  inclina- 
tions, yet  they  are  something  ruled  in  reference  to  the  will 
of  God  signified  by  them  ;  and  in  the  conformity  thereto, 
consists  another  part  of  this  original  rectitude. 

2.  We  have  to  consider  the  manner  of  this  endowment. 
And  as  to  this,  'tis  much  disputed  among  the  schoolmen, 
whether  it  were  natural  or  supernatural.  I  shall  only  lay 
down,  in  few  words,  what  I  conceive  to  be  clear  and  in- 
disputable. 

1.  If  by  natural,  you  mean  essential,  (whether  constitu- 
tively,  or  consecutively,)  so  original  righteousness  was 
not  natural  to  man ;  for  then  he  could  never  have  lost  it, 
without  the  loss  of  his  being. 

2.  If  by  natural,  you  mean  connatural,  i.  e.  concreate 
with  the  nature  of  man,  and  consonant  thereto,  so  I  doubt 
not  but  it  was  natural  to  him. 

Prop.  6.  This  rectitude  of  man's  nature,  could  not  but 
infer  and  include  his  actual  blessedness,  while  he  should 
act  according  to  it.  According  to  the  tenor  of  the  cove- 
nant, it  could  not  but  infer  it.  And  consider  this  rectitude 
in  itself,  it  must  needs  include  it :  the  rectitude  of  his  un- 
derstanding including  his  knowledge  of  the  highest  good; 
and  the  rectitude  of  his  will  and  affections,  the  accept- 
ance and  enjoj'ment  thereof;  as  Augustine  f  in  this  case, 
nullum  bonum  abcssct  hoviini  quod  recta  voluntas  optare 
posset,  cf-c.  Thus  far  of  the  holiness  and  blessedness  of 
man's  first  state.  It  follows  to  speak  of  the  matability  of 
it,  and  of  his  fall  as  depending  thereon. 

Doct.  2.  That  man's  defection  from  his  primitive  state 
was  merely  voluntary,  and  from  the  unconstrained  choice 
of  his  own  mutable  and  self-determining  will.  For  the 
asserting  of  this  truth,  take  the  following  propositions: 

Prop.  1.  That  the  nature  of  man  is  now  become  uni- 
versally depraved  and  sinful.  This,  Scripture  is  full  of,? 
and  experience  and  common  observation  puts  it  beyond 
dispute.  'Tis  left  then  that  sin  must  have  had  some  ori- 
ginal among  men. 

Prop.  2.  The  pure  and  holy  nature  of  God  could  never 
be  the  original  of  man's  sin.  This  is  evident  in  ii.'^elf. 
God  h  disclaims  it:  nor  can  any  affirm  it  of  him  without 
denying  his  very  Being.  He  could  not  be  the  cause  of 
unholiness,  but  by  ceasing  to  be  holy,  which  would  sup- 
pose him  mutably  holy ;  and  if  either  God  or  man  must 
be  confessed  mutable,  'tis  no  difficulty  where  to  lay  it; 
whatever  he  is,  he  is  essentially;  and  necessity  of  exist- 
ence, of  being  alwavs  what  heis,  i  remains  everlastingly 
the  fundamental  attribute  of  his  Being. 

3.  'Tis  blasphemous  and  absurd  to  talk  of  two  princi- 
ples, (as  the  Manichees  of  old.)  the  one  good  per  se,  and 
the  cause  of  all  good  ;  the  other  evil  per  sc,  and  the  cause 
of  all  evil. 

Bradwardine's  k  two  arguments,  1.  that  this  would  sup- 
pose two  gods,  two  independent  beings,  2.  that  it  would 
suppose  an  evil  god,  do  sufficiently  convince  this  to  be  full 
both  of  blasphemy  and  contradiction. 

4.  It  was  not  possible  that  either  external  objects,  or 
the  temptation  of  the  devil,  should  necessitate  the  will  of 
man  to  sin.  External  objects  could  not ;  for  that  were  to 
reject  all  upon  God ;  for  if  he  create  objects  with  such  an 
aliective  power  in  them,  and  create  such  an  appetite  in 
man  as  cannot  but  work  inordinately  and  sinfully  towards 
those  objects,  it  must  needs  infer  his  efficacious  necessita- 
tion  of  sin,  being  it  would  destroy  the  truth  already  estab- 
lished, that  God  created  man  with  such  a  rectitude  as  that 

h  Deut.  xxxii.  4.    Psal.  v.  4.    3  John  11. 

i    James  i    17. 

k  Bradwardine  de  causa  Dei. 


134 


MAN  CREATED  MUTABLE. 


there  was  a  siifficient  ability  in  his  superior  powers  for  the 
cohibition  and  restraint  of  the  inferior,  that  they  should 
not  work  inordinately  towards  their  objects.  The  devil 
could  not  do  it  for  the  same  reason,  having  no  way  to 
move  the  will  of  man  but  by  the  proposal  of  objects;  yet 
that  by  this  means  (which  he  could  in  many  respects 
manag-e  most  advantageously)  he  did  much  help  forward 
the  first  sin,  Scripture  leaves  us  not  to  doubt. 

5.  The  whole  nature  of  sin  consisting  only  in  a  defect, 
no  other  cause  need  be  designed  of  it  than  a  defective  ; 
i.e.  an  understanding,  will,  and  inferior  powers,  however 
originally  good,  yet  mutably  and  defectively  so.  I  shall 
not  insist  to  prove  that  sin  is  no  positive  being;  but  I 
take  the  argument  to  be  irrefragable,  (notwithstanding 
the  cavils  made  against  it,)  that  is  drawn  from  that  com- 
mon maxim,  that  ovine  ens  positivum  est  vel  primum,  vel  a 
primoA  And  that  of  Dionysius  the  Areopagite  is  an  in- 
genious one  :  he  argues  that  no  being  can  be  evil  per  se  ; 
for  then  it  must  be  immutably,  to  which  no  evil  can  be,  for 
to  be  always  the  same,  is  a  certain  property  of  goodness; 
'tis  so  even  of  the  highest  goodness.  And  hence  sin  being 
supposed  only  a  defect,  a  soul  that  is  only  defectibly  holy, 
might  well  enough  be  the  cause  of  it;  i.  e.  the  deficient 
cause.  Nor  is  it  in  the  least  strange  that  man  should  be 
at  first  created  with  a  defectible  holiness  ;  for  if  he  were 
immutably  holy,  either  it  must  be  ex  natitrd,  or  ex  gratia: 
ex  naturd  it  could  not  be,  for  that  would  suppose  him 
God;  if  it  were  ex  gratia,  then  it  must  be  free;  then  it 
might  be,  or  might  not  be  ;  therefore  there  was  no  incon- 
gruity in  it  that  it  should  not  be.  And  indeed  it  was  most 
congruous  that  God  having  newly  made  such  a  creature, 
furnished  with  such  powers,  so  capable  of  government 
by  a  law,  of  being  moved  by  promises  and  threats,  he 
should  for  some  time  hold  him  as  a  viator,  in  a  state  of 
trial  unconfirmed,  (as  he  did  also  the  innocent  angels,)  that 
it  might  be  seen  how  he  would  behave  himself  towards 
his  Maker,  and  that  he  should  be  rewardable  and  punish- 
able accordingly,  in  a  state  that  should  be  everlasting  and 
unchangeable:  the  liberty  therefore  of  the  viators  and  the 
comprehensors,  ""Gibieuf  well  distinguishes  into  inchoata 
or  consummabilis,  and  perfecta  or  cnnsinnvwM  ;  the  former 
such  as  Adam's  was  at  his  creation  ;  the  latter  such  as  is 
the  state  of  angels  and  saints  in  glory;  and  as  his  would 
have  been  had  he  held  out  and  persisted  innocent  through 
the  intended  time  of  trial. 

It  was  therefore  no  strange  thing  that  man  should  be 
created  defectible  ;  it  was  as  little  strange  that  a  defectible 
creature  should  deficere.  For  the  manner  of  that  defec- 
tion, (whether  error  of  the  understanding  preceded,  or  in- 
consideration  only,  and  a  neglect  of  its  office,)  with  the 
great  difficulties  some  imagine  herein,  I  waive  discourse 
about  them ;  judging  that  advice  good  and  sober,  for  to 
consider  more  how  sin  may  be  gotten  out  of  the  world, 
than  how  it  came  in.  Though  'tis  most  probable  there 
was  in  the  instant  of  temptation  a  mere  suspension  of  the 
understanding's  act,  (not  as  previous  to  the  sin,  but  as  a 
part  of  it,)  and  thereupon  a  sudden  precipitation  of  will, 
as  Estius  doth  well  determine. 

6.  Man  being  created  mutable  as  to  his  holiness,  must 
needs  be  so  as  to  his  happiness  too.  And  that  both  upon 
a  legal  account,  (for  the  law  had  determined  that  if  he  did 
sin  he  must  die,)  and  also  upon  a  natural ;  for  it  was  not 
possible  that  his  soul  being  once  depraved  by  sin,  the 
powers  of  it  vitiated,  their  order  each  to  other,  and  to- 
wards their  objects,  broken  and  interrupted,  there  should 
remain  a  disposition  and  aptitude  to  converse  with  the 
highest  good. 

The  use  follows,  which  shall  be  only  in  certain  practical 
inferences  that  will  issue  from  these  truths,  partly  con- 
sidered singly  and  severally,  partly  together  and  in  con- 
junction. 

From  the  First.  1.  Did  God  create  man  upright  as 
hath  been  shown  1  then  how  little  reason  had  man  to  sin ! 
how  little  reason  had  he  to  desert  Grod  !  to  be  weary  of 
his  first  estate  !  Could  God's  making  him,  his  making 
him  upright,  be  a  reason  why  he  should  sin  against  him  1 
was  hjs  directing  his  heart,  and  the  natural  course  of  his 
affections  towards  himself,  a  reason  M^hy  he  should  forsake 
him  1  What  was  there  in  his  state  that  should  make  it 


1  Dion  de  Div.  nom. 


m  Gihicuf  Jq  libertate  Dei  ct  creatunE. 


grievous  to  him  "?  Was  his  duty  too  much  for  him  "?  God 
made  him  upright,  so  that  every  part  of  it  was  connatural 
to  him.  Was  his  privilege  too  little "?  He  knew,  and 
loved,  and  enjoyed  the  highest  and  infinite  good.  O  think 
then  how  unreasonable  and  disingenuous  a  thing  sin  was! 
that  a  creature  that  was  nothing  but  a  few  hours  ago,  now 
a  reasonable  being,  capable  of  God,  should  yet  sin  i  Urge 
your  hearts  with  this,  we  are  too  apt  to  think  ourselves 
unconcerned  in  Adam's  sin ;  we  look  upon  ourselves  too 
abstractly,  we  should  remember  we  are  members  of  a 
community,  and  it  .should  be  grievous  to  us  to  think  that 
our  species  hath  dealt  so  unkindly  and  unworthily  with 
God  :  and  besides,  do  not  v/e  sin  daily  after  the  similitude 
of  Adam's  transgression  1  and  is  not  sin  as  unreasonable 
and  unjust  a  thing  as  ever  % 

2.  Was  our  primitive  state  so  good  and  happy,  how 
justly  may  we  reflect  and  look  back  towards  our  first  state ! 
how  fitly  might  we  take  up  Job's  words  !  O  that  I  were 
as  in  months  past ; — as  in  the  days  of  my  youth; — when 
the  Almighty  was  yet  with  me : — when  I  put  on  righte- 
ousness and  it  clothed  me  ; — when  my  glory  was  fresh  in 
me,  &c.n  With  what  sadness  may  we  call  to  mind  the 
things  that  are  past,  and  the  beginnings  of  ancient  time  ! 
when  there  was  no  stain  upon  our  natures,  no  cloud  upon 
our  minds,  no  pollution  upon  our  hearts ;  when  with  pure 
and  undefiled  souls  we  could  embrace  and  rest,  and  re- 
joice in  the  eternal  and  incomprehensible  good  !  When 
we  remember  these  things,  do  not  our  bowels  turn  1  are 
not  our  souls  poured  out  within  us  1 

From  the  Second.  1.  Did  man  so  voluntarily  ruin  him- 
self; how  unlikely  is  he  now  to  be  his  own  saviour  !  He 
that  was  a  self-destroyer  from  the  beginning,  that  ruined 
himself  as  soon  as  God  had  made  him,  is  he  likely  now  to 
save  himself?  Is  it  easier  for  him  to  recover  his  station 
than  to  have  kept  it  1  or  hath  he  improved  himself  by  sin- 
ning, and  gained  strength  by  his  fall  for  a  more  difficult 
undertaking  1  Is  he  grown  better  natured  towards  himself 
and  his  God,  than  he  was  at  first  1 

2.  How  little  reason  hath  he  to  blame  God,  though  he 
finally  perish  !  What  would  he  have  had  God  to  have  done 
more  to  prevent  it;  he  gave  his  law  to  direct  him,  his 
threatening  to  warn  him  ;  his  promise  for  his  encourage- 
ment was  evidently  implied ;  his  nature  was  sufficiently 
disposed  to  improve  and  comport  Avith  all  these :  yet  he 
sins  !  Is  God  to  be  charged  with  this  1  Sins  upon  no  ne- 
cessity, with  no  pretence  ;  but  that  he  must  be  seeking  out 
inventions,  trying  experiments,  assaying  to  better  his  state, 
as  plainly  despising  the  law,  suspecting  the  truth,  envying 
the  greatness,  asserting  and  aspiring  to  the  sovereignty 
and  Godhead  of  his  Maker.  Had  we  (any  of  us)  a  mind 
to  contend  with  God  about  this  matter,  how  would  we 
order  our  cause  1  how  would  we  state  our  quarrel  1  If  we 
complain  that  we  should  be  condemned  and  ruined  all  in 
one  man ;  that  is  to  complain  that  we  are  Adam's  children. 
A  child  might  as  well  complain  that  he  is  the  son  of  a 
beggar  or  a  traitor,  and  charge  it  as  injustice  upon  the 
prince  or  law  of  the  land  that  he  is  not  born  to  a  patri- 
mony ;  this  is  a  misery  to  him,  but  no  man  will  say  it  is  a 
wrong.  And  can  it  be  said  we  are  wronged  by  the  com- 
mon Ruler  of  the  world,  that  we  do  not  inherit  from  our 
father  the  righteousness  and  felicity  he  had  wilfully  lost 
long  before  we  were  his  children  1  If  we  think  it  hard  we 
should  be  tied  to  terms  we  never  consented  to,  might  not 
an  heir  as  well  quarrel  with  the  magistrate,  that  he  suffers 
him  to  become  liable  to  his  father's  debts,  and  to  lie  in 
prison  if  he  have  not  to  payl 

But  besides,  who  can  imagine  but  we  should  have  con- 
sented, had  all  mankind  been  at  that  time  existent  in  in- 
nocency  together  1  i.  e.  let  the  case  be  stated  thus :  Sup- 
pose Adam,  our  common  parent,  to  have  had  all  his 
children  together  with  him  before  the  Lord,  while  the 
covenant  of  works  was  not  as  yet  made,  and  while  as  yet 
God  was  not  under  any  engagement  to  the  children  of 
men.  Let  it  be  supposed,  that  he  did  propound  it  to  the 
whole  race  of  mankind  together,  that  he  would  capitulate 
with  their  common  parent  on  their  behalf,  according  to 
the  terms  of  that  first  covenant ;  if  he  stood,  they  should 
stand,  if  he  fall,  they  must  all  fall  with  him.  Let  it  be  con- 
sidered, that  if  this  had  not  been  consented  to,  God  mighi 

n  Jobsxix.  2,4,5  14,20 


MAN  CREATED  MUTABLE. 


135 


(^•without  the  least  colour  of  exception,  being  as  yet  under 
no  engagement  to  the  contrary)  have  annihilated  the  whole 
species ;  for  wherein  can  it  seem  hard,  that  what  was  no- 
thing but  the  last  moment,  should  the  next  moment  be  suf- 
fered to  relapse  into  nothing  again  1  Let  it  also  be  consi- 
dered, that  Adam's  own  personal  interest,  and  a  mighty 
natural  affection  towards  so  vast  a  progeny,  might  well  be 
thought  certainly  to  engage  him  to  the  uttermost  care  and 
circumspection  on  his  own  and  their  behalf.  It  must  also 
be  remembered,  that  all  being  now  in  perfect  innocency, 
no  defect  of  reason,  no  frowardness  or  perverseness  of  will 
can  be  supposed  in  any,  to  hinder  their  right  judgment, 
and  choice  of  what  might  appear  to  be  most  for  their  own 
advantage,  and  the  glory  of  their  Maker. 

Can  it  now  possibly  be  thought  (the  case  being  thus 
stated)  that  any  man  should  rather  choose  presently  to 
lose  his  being,  and  the  pleasures  and  hopes  of  such  a 
state,  than  to  have  consented  to  such  terms "?  It  cannot  be 
thought. 

For  consider  the  utmost  that  might  be  objected ;  and 
suppose  one  thiis  to  reason  the  matter  with  himself : 
"  Whyl  'tis  a  mighty  hazard  for  me  to  suspend  my  ever- 
lasting happiness  or  misery  upon  the  uncertain  determi- 
nations of  another  man's  mutable  will ;  shall  I  trust  my 
eternal  concernments  to  such  a  peradventure,  and  put  my 
life  and  hopes  into  the  hands  of  a  fellow-creature  V 

It  were  obvious  to  him  to  answer  himself,  "  Aye,  but  he 
is  my  father ;  he  bears  a  natural  affection  to  me,  his  own 
concernment  is  included,  he  hath  power  over  his  own  will, 
his  obedience  for  us  all  will  be  no  more  difficult  than  each 
man's  for  himself;  there  is  nothing  required  of  him  but 
what  his  nature  inclines  him  to,  and  what  his  reason  (if 
he  use  it)  will  guide  him  to  comply  with ;  and  though 
the  hazard  of  an  eternal  misery  be  greatly  tremendous, 
yet  are  not  the  hopes  of  an  everlasting  blessedness  as 
greatly  consolatory  and  encouraging  1  and  besides,  the 
hazard  will  be  but  for  a  time,  which  if  we  pass  safely,  we 
shall  shortly  receive  a  full  and  glorious  confirmation  and 
advancement."  Certainly  no  reasonable  man,  all  this 
considered,  (though  there  had  been  no  mention  made  of  a 
means  of  recovery  in  case  of  falling,  the  consideration 
whereof  is  yet  also  to  be  taken  in  by  us,)  would  have  re- 
fused to  consent.  And  then  what  reasonable  man  but  will 
confess  this  to  be  mere  cavil,  that  we  did  not  personally 
consent ;  for  if  it  be  certain  we  should  have  consented,  and 
our  own  hearts  tell  us  we  should,  doth  the  power  of  a 
Creator  over  his  creatures  signify  so  little  that  he  might 
not  take  this  for  an  actual  consent  1  for  is  it  not  all  one, 
whether  you  did  consent,  or  certainly  would  have  done  it, 
if  you  had  been  treated  with  1  Covenants  betwixt  superi- 
ors and  inferiors,  differ  much  from  those  betwixt  equals; 
for  they  are  laws  as  well  as  covenants,  and  therefore  do 
suppose  consent,  (the  terms  being  in  se  reasonable,)  as  that 
which  not  only  our  interest  but  duty  would  oblige  us  to. 
'Tis  not  the  same  thing  to  covenant  with  the  great  God, 
and  with  a  fellow-creature.  God's  prescience  of  the  event, 
(besides  that  no  man  knows  what  it  is,  yet,)  whatever  it 
is,  'tis  wholly  immanent  in  himself,  (as  also  his  decrees,) 

o  Rom.  ui.  24  &c.    1  Cor.  i.  30,  31.    Eph.  i.  6,  7.    Tit.  ii.  11—14. 


therefore  could  have  no  influence  into  the  event,  or  be  any 
cause  of  it;  all  depended,  as  hath  been  shown,  on  man's 
own  will ;  and  therefore  if  God  did  foresee  that  man 
would  fall,  yet  he  knew  also,  that  if  he  would  he  might 
stand. 

F'rom  both  joinUy.  1.  Were  we  once  so  happy,  and 
have  we  now  undone  ourselves  1  how  acceptable  should 
this  render  the  means  of  our  recoverv  to  us !  That  'tis  a 
recovery  we  are  to  endeavour,  (which  implies  the  formei 
truth,)  that  suppo.ses  us  once  happy,  who  would  not  be 
taken  with  such  an  overture  for  the  leyainin::  Of  a  happi- 
ness, which  he  hath  lost  and  fallen  froml  'Tis  a  douBle 
misery  to  become  from  a  happy  estate  miserable  ;  'tis  yet 
as  a  double  happiness  to  become  happy  from  such  misery ; 
and  proportionably  valuable  should  all  means  appear  to  us 
that  tend  thereto.  Yea,  and  'tis  a  recovery  after  self-de- 
struction, (which  asserts  the  former  truth,)  such  ade.struc- 
tion  as  might  reduce  us  to  an  utter  despair  of  remedies,  as 
rendering  us  incapable  to  help  ourselves,  or  to  expect  help 
or  pity  from  others.  O  how  welcome  should  the  tidings 
of  deliverance  now  be  to  us!  how  joyful  an  entertainment 
should  our  hearts  give  them  upon  both  these  accounts ! 
How  greatly  doth  Scripture "  commend  the  love  and  grace 
of  Christ,  under  the  notion  of  redeeming !  a  word  that 
doth  not  signify  deliverance  from  simple  misery  onh',  but 
also  connote  a  precedent  better  state,  as  they  expound  it 
who  take  the  phrase,  as  Scripture  uses  it,  to  allude  to  the 
buying  out  of  captives  from  their  bondage.  And  how 
should  it  ravish  the  heart  of  any  man  to  have  mercy  and 
help  offered  him  by  another  hand,  who  hath  perished  by 
his  own  !  how  taking  should  gospel-grace  be  upon  this  ac- 
count !  hoM'  should  this  consideration  engage  souls  to 
value  and  embrace  it !  It  is  urged  (we  see)  to  that  pur- 
pose, Hos.  xiii.  9.  O  Israel,  thou  hast  destroyed  thyself,  but 
in  me  is  thy  help  ;  and,  v.  10.  it  follows,  I  will  be  thy  King; 
where  is  anj^  other  that  will  save  thee "?  &c.  And  ch.  xiv.  1. 
O  Israel,  return  unto  the  Lord,  for  thou  hast  fallen  by  thine 
iniquity.  Now  (friends)  do  but  seriously  consider  this. 
If  you  believe  the  truths  you  have  heard,  how  precious 
should  Christ  be  to  you  !  how  precious  should  the  gospel, 
the  ordinances,  and  ministry  of  it  be  !  Do  you  complain 
that  formerly  you  were  not  treated  with"?  By  all  the.'^e  God 
now  treats  with  you.  Now  your  own  personal  consent  is 
called  for ;  not  to  any  thing  that  hath  the  least  of  hazard  in 
it,  but  what  shall  make  you  certainly  happy,  as  miserable  as 
you  have  made  yourselves  ;  and  there  is  nothing  but  your 
consent  wanting,  the  price  of  your  redemption  is  already 
paid ;  'tis  but  taking  Christ  for  your  Saviour  and  your  Lord, 
and  living  a  life  of  dependence  and  holiness  for  a  few  days, 
and  you  are  as  safe  as  if  you  were  in  glory.  "Will  you  now 
stick  at  this  1  O  do  not  destroy  yourselves  a  second  time, 
and  make  yourselves  doubly  guilty  of  your  own  ruin. 

2.  Was  our  state  so  gooi,  but  mutable  1  What  cause 
have  we  to  admire  the  grace  of  God,  through  Christ,  that 
whom  it  recovers  it  confirms  !  It  was  a  blessed  state,  that 
by  our  own  free  will  we  fell  from  ;  but  how  much  better 
(even  upon  this  account)  is  this,  which  by  God's  free 
grace  we  are  invited  and  recalled  to  ! 


A  CALM  AND  SOBER  INQUIRY 


CONCERNING  THB  POSSIBILITY  OP 


% 


A    TRINITY    IN    THE    GODHEAD, 

IN  A  LETTER  TO  A  PERSON  OF  WORTH; 

OCCASIONED  BY  THE  LATELY  PUBLISHED  CONSIDERATIONS  ON  THE  EXPLICATIONS  ON  THE  DOCTRINE  OP 
THE  TRINITY,  BY  DR.  WALLIS,  DR.  SHERLOCK,  DR.  S — TH,  DR.  CUDWORTH,  &C. 

TOGETHER  WITH   CERTAIN  LETTERS, 

FORMERLY  WRITTEN  TO  THE  REVEREND  DR.  WALLIS,  ON  THE  SAME  SUBJECT, 


Sir, 

I  INTEND  not  this  discourse  shall  be  concerned  in 
what  this  author  hath  said  of  the  several  explications  given 
oy  the  persons  named  on  his  title-page.  The  only  thing 
it  is  designed  for,  is  the  discoursing  with  him  that  single 
point  which  he  refers  to,  in  his  twenty -ninth  and  thirtieth 
pages,  and  which,  in  this  controversy,  is  on  all  hands  con- 
fessed to  be  the  cardinal  one,  viz.  Whether  a  trinity  in  the 
Godhead  be  possible  or  no  1 

I  put  not  the  question  about  three  persons ;  both  because 
I  will  not,  in  so  short  a  discourse  as  I  intend  to  make  this, 
be  engaged  in  discussing  the  unagreed  notion  of  a  person ; 
and  because  the  Scripture  lays  not  that  necessity  upon  me, 
though  I  do  not  think  the  use  of  that  term,  in  this  affair, 
either  blameable  or  indefensible.  But  I  shall  inquire  whe- 
iher  the  Father,  the  Son,  or  Word,  and  the  Holy  Ghost, 
cannot  possibly  admit  of  sufficient  distinction  from  one 
another  to  answer  the  parts  and  purposes  severally  assigned 
them  by  the  Scripture,  in  the  Christian  economy,  and  yet 
be  each  of  them  God,  consistently  with  this  most  inviola- 
ble and  indubitable  truth,  that  there  can  be  but  one  God. 

This  author  concludes  it  to  be  impossible  in  the  men- 
tioned pages  of  his  discourse,  and  thereupon  seems  to 
judge  it  necessary  that  two  of  them  be  excluded  the  God- 
head, as  manv  others,  some  going  the  Arian,  some  the 
Photinian,  more  lately  called  the  Socinian  way,  have  done 
before  him.  He  acknowledges,  page  30,  col.  1.  there  may 
be  "some  secret  revealed  by  God,  because  it  was  above 
human  capacity  to  discover  it;  and  sometimes  also  to 
comprehend  how  it  can  be;"  but  adds,  "  there  is  a  vast 
difference  between  my  not  being  able  to  conceive  how  a 
thing  should  be,  and  a  clear  apprehension  and  sight  that 
it  cannot  be."  What  he  says  thus  far  is  unexceptionable, 
and  I  heartily  concur  with  him  in  it.  But  for  what  he 
subjoins,  (wherein  he  might  have  spoken  his  mind  of  the 
matter  in  controversy  with  as  much  advantage  to  his  cause, 
without  reflecting  upon  his  adversaries,  as  if  they  con- 
sidered these  things  either  with  no  intention,  or  with  no 
sincerity,  not  allowing  them  even  the  never  so  little  of  the 
one  or  the  other,)  that  "  three  distinct  Almighty  and  All- 
knowing  persons,  should  be  but  one  Almighty,  or  but  one 
All-knowing,  or  but  one  God,  a  man,  who  considers  with 
never  so  little  intention  and  sincerity,  clearly  sees  that  it 
cannot  be.  In  short,  that  it  is  not  a  mystery,  but,  as  Dr. 
South  speaks,  an  absurdity  and  a  contradiction."  This  is 
that  I  would  consider  with  him,  if  he  will  affix  these 
words  of  his,  "  a  man  who  considers,  &c.  clearly  sees  it 
cennot  be,  and  it  is  an  absurdity  and  a  contradiction,"  to 
the  question  a^  I  hare  set  it  down  above.    In  the  mean- 


time he  cannot  be  ignorant  that,  as  he  hath  represented  the 
matter,  he  hath  here  either  not  truly,  or  at  least  not  fairly, 
given  the  sense  of  any  of  them  whom  he  pretended  to 
oppose. 

For  when  by  those  words,  "  But  that  three  Divine  per- 
sons, or  that  three  distinct  Almighty  and  All-knowing  per- 
sons, should  be  but  one  Almighty,  but  one  All-knowing, 
ar  but  one  God,"  he  would  slily  insinuate  to  his  unwary 
and  less  attentive  reader,  that  the  same  men  held  three 
Almighties,  and  but  one  ;  he  well  knows,  and  elsewhere 
confesses,  (though  he  might  suppose  that  some  readers 
would  not  be  at  leisure  to  compare  one  place  of  his 
writings  with  another,  but  hastily  run  awaj'  with  the  ap- 
prehension, that  such  as  were  not  of  his  mind  spake  no- 
tning  but  nonsense  and  contradictions,)  that  not  only  his 
later  opposers  since  P.  Lumbard,  as  he  speaks,  but  divers 
much  more  ancient,  as  Athanasius,  and  the  rest  of  the 
Nicene  fathers,  &c.  denied  three  Almighties,  though  they 
affirmed  each  of  the  persons  to  be  Almighty,  understand- 
ing omnipotency,  as  they  do  omnisciency,  to  be  an  attribute 
not  of  the  person,  as  such,  but  of  the  essence,  as  such, 
which  they  affirm  to  be  but  one,  i.  e.  that  they  are  each  of 
them  Almighty,  by  communication  in  one  and  the  same 
almighty  essence.  And  if  their  sentiment  be  so  very  ab- 
surd, he  needed  the  less  to  fear  representing  it  as  it  is. 

And  the  other  who  seems  to  grant  three  Almighties, 
doth  never  say  there  is  but  one  Almighty ;  though  such 
say  too  there  is  but  one  God,  placing  the  unity  of  the  God- 
head in  somewhat  else,  as  he  hath  himself  taken  notice  ; 
which  is  remote  from  express  self-contradiction  also.  But 
I  shall  concern  myself  no  further  about  the  one  or  the 
other  of  these  ways  of  explaining  the  doctrine  of  the  three 
persons.  Only  shall  inquire  concerning  the  possibility  of 
such  a  trinity  in  the  Godhead  as  was  above  expressed,  re- 
quiting the  uncharitableness  of  this  author,  in  imputing 
carelessness  or  insincerity  to  all  that  think  it  possible, 
with  so  much  charity,  as  to  believe  he  would  not  (against 
the  plain  tenor  of  Scripture)  have  rejected  the  doctrine  of 
the  trinity,  as  he  professes  to  do  that  of  the  incarnation, 
if  he  had  not  thought  it  every  way  impossible.  And  here 
I  premise, 

1.  That  the  present  undertaking  is  not  to  show  that  the 
Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost  are  three,  and  but  one,  in 
the  same  respect;  which  I  would  adventure,  in  this  au- 
thor's words,  to  say,  no  man  that  considers  with  never  so 
little  intention  and  sincerity  would  offer  at.  But  when 
they  are  supposed  to  be  but  one,  in  respect  of  Deity,  they 
are  thought  to  be  three  in  some  other  respect. 

2.  That  what  I  now  design  is  only  to   represent  this 


A  CALM  DISCOURSE  OF  THE  TRINITY    &c. 


137 


matter  as  possible  to  be  some  way,  and  in  the  way  here 
proposed  for  ought  we  know,  not  as  definitely  certain  to  be 
this  way  or  that.  The  former  is  enough  to  our  present 
purpose,  i.  e.  if  any  way  it  can  be  conceived,  without  ab- 
surdity or  contradiction,  that  these  may  be  three  with 
sufiicient  distinction  to  found  the  distinct  attributes  which 
the  Scriptures  do  severally  give  them,  so  as  some  things 
may  be  affirmed  of  some  one,  and  not  be  afSrmed  of  the 
other  of  them,  and  yet  their  unity  in  Godhead  be  con- 
served; our  point  is  gained,  and  the  clamour  of  this  and 
every  other  opposer  ought  to  cease,  for  our  asserting  what 
every  one,  that  considers,  clearly  sees  cannot  be. 

Now,  so  much  being  forelaid,  that  we  may  proceed  with 
clearness  and  satisfaction  of  mind — If  we  would  under- 
stand whether  it  be  possible  that  these  three  may  be  suffi- 
ciently distinguished  for  the  mentioned  purpose,  and  yet 
be  one  in  Godhead,  or  in  divine  being;  we  are  to  recollect 
ourselves,  and  consider  what  we  are  wont,  and  find  our- 
selves indispensably  obliged,  to  conceive  of  that  ever  bless- 
ed Being,  and  what  is  with  less  certainty  or  evidence  said 
or  thought  of  it.     Therefore, 

I.  We  cannot  but  acknowledge,  that  whereas  we  do  with 
greatest  certainty  and  clearness  conceive  of  it  as  an  intel- 
lectual Being,  comprehensive,  with  that,  of  infinite  and 
universal  perfection ;  so  we  do,  most  expressly,  though  this 
be  implied  in  universal  perfection,  conclude  it  a  Being 
most  necessarily  existent :  which  God  hath  himself  been 
pleased  to  signify  to  us  by  the  appropriated  name,  I  am,  or 
I  am  what  I  am. 

Hereby  is  this  most  excellent  of  beings  infinitely  dis- 
tinguished from  all  creatures,  or  from  the  whole  creation. 
All  created  being  is  merely  contingent,  i.  e.  (according  to 
the  true  notion  of  contingency)  dependent  upon  will  and 
pleasure.  So  he  hath  himself  taught  us  to  distinguish  ; 
and  with  such  distinction  to  conceive  of  the  creation.  Rev. 
iv.  II.  Thou  hast  made  all  things,  and  for  {or  by,  6ia) 
thy  pleasure  (or  will,  QiMna  an)  they  are,  or  were  created. 
Whatsoever  being  is  necessarily  existent,  the  excellency 
of  its  nature  being  such,  as  that  it  was  necessary  to  it  to 
exist,  or  impossible  not  to  exist,  is  God,  or  is  divine 
being.  Notwithstanding  what  some  have  imagined  of 
necessary  matter,  we  might  adventure  to  affirm  this  uni- 
versally of  all  necessary  being,  that  it  is  divine,  taking  it 
to  be  plainly  demonstrable,  and  to  have  been  demonstrated 
beyond  all  contradiction,  by  the  learned  Dr.  Cudworth, 
and  many  others  long  before  him.  And  doubt  not  to 
evince,  (though  that  is  not  the  present  business,)  that  sup- 
posing the  imagination  of  necessary  matter  were  true,  this 
sensible  world  could  never  possibly  have  been  made  of  it, 
by  any  power  whatsoever;  the  only  pretence  for  which  it 
is  imagined.  But  if  any  have  a  mind  to  make  this  a  dis- 
pute, to  avoid  being  unseasonably  involved  in  it  at  this 
time,  it  will  serve  my  present  purpose  to  assert  onl)%  what- 
soever intellectual  being  is  necessarily  existent  is  divine.    , 

And  on  the  other  hand,  whatsoever  being  is  contingent, 
i.  e.  such  as  that  it  depended  on  a  mere  intervening  act  of 
will  (viz.  even  the  sovereign  and  supreme  will)  whether 
it  should  be  or  not  be,  is  created,  or  is  creature. 

II.  Whatsoever  simplicity  the  ever  blessed  God  hath 
by  any  express  revelation  claimed  to  himself,  or  can  by 
evident  and  irrefragable  reason  be  demonstrated  to  belong 
to  him,  as  a  perfection,  we  ought  humbly,  and  with  all 
possible  reverence  and  adoration,  to  ascribe  to  him.  But 
such  simplicity  as  he  hath  not  claimed,  as  is  arbitrarily 
ascribed  to  him  by  over-bold  and  adventurous  intruders 
into  the  deep  and  most  profound  arcana  of  the  Divine 
nature,  such  as  can  never  be  proved  to  belong  to  him,  or 
to  be  any  real  perfection,  such  as  would  prove  an  imper- 
fection, and  a  blemish,  would  render  the  Divine  nature  less 
intelligible,  more  impossible  to  be  so  far  conceived  as  is 
requisite,  as  would  discompose  and  disturb  our  minds, 
confound  our  conceptions,  make  our  apprehensions  of  his 
other  known  perfections  less  distinct  or  inconsistent,  ren- 
der him  less  adorable,  or  less  an  object  of  religion,  or  such 
as  is  manifestly  unreconcileable  with  his  plain  affirmations 
concerning  himself,  we  ought  not  to  impose  it  upon  our- 
selves, or  be  so  far  imposed  upon,  as  to  ascribe  to  him  such 
simplicity. 

It  would  be  an  over-officious  and  too  meanly  servile 
religiousness,  to  be  awed  by  the  sophistiy  of  presumptuous 


scholastic  wits,  into  a  subscription  to 'their  confident  de- 
termmations  concerning  the  being  of  God,  that  such  and 
such  thmgs  are  necessary  or  impossible  thereto,  beyond 
what  the  plain  undisguised  reason  of  things,  oi  his  own 
express  word,  do  evince  :  to  imagine  a  sacredne.ssin  their 
rash  conclusions,  so  as  to  be  afraid  of  searching  into  them 
or  of  examining  whether  they  have  any  firm  and  solid 
ground  or  bottom  ;  to  allow  the  schools  the  making  of  our 
Bible,  or  the  foiming  of  our  creed,  who  license  (and  even 
sport)  themselves  to  philosophize  upon  the  nature  of  God, 
with  as  petulant  and  irreverent  a  libert3',  as  they  would 
upon  a  worm,  or  any  the  meanest  insect,  while  yet  tbey 
can  pronounce  little  with  certainty  even  concerning  that- 
hath  nothing  in  it  either  of  the  Chri.stian  or  the  man.  It 
will  become  as  well  as  concern  us,  to  disencumber  our 
minds,  and  release  them  from  the  entanglements  of  their 
unproved  dictates;  whatsoever  authority  they  may  have 
acquired,  only  by  having  been  long,  and  commonly,  takea 
for  granted.  The  more  reverence  we  have  of  God,  the 
less  we  are  to  have  for  such  men,  as  have  themselves  ex- 
pressed little. 

III.  Such  as  have  thought  themselves  obliged  by  the 
plain  word  of  God  to  acknowledge  a  trinity  in  the  God- 
head, viz.  of  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost, 'but  withal  to 
diminish  the  distinction  of  (he  one  from  the  other,  so  as 
even  to  make  it  next  to  nothing,  by  reason  of  the  straits 
into  which  unexamined  maxims  have  cast  their  minds, 
concerning  the  Divine  simplicity;  have  yet  not  thought 
that  to  be  absolute  or  omnimodo^is.  For  the  allowing  ol 
three  sonewhats  in  the  Divine  nature  (and  what  less  could 
have  been  said  ?)  cannot  consist  with  absolute  simplicity 
in  all  respects,  ina.sinuch  as  they  cannot  be  three  without 
difl^ering,  in  some  respect,  from  one  anothei . 

Since  therefore  there  is  a  necessity  apprehended  of  ac- 
knowledging three  such  somevhats  in  the  Godhertd,  both 
because  the  word  of  God  (who  best  understands  his  own 
nature)  doth  speak  of  three  in  it  so  plainly,  that,  withom 
notorious  violence,  it  cannot  be  understood'  otherwise,  and 
because  it  affirms  some  things  of  one  or  other  of  t^em, 
which  it  affirms  not  of  the  rest;  it  will  therefore  be  neces- 
sary to  admit  a  true  distinction  between  them,  otherwi.se 
they  cannot  be  three  ;  and  safe  to  say  there  is  so  much,  as 
is  requisite  to  found  the  distinct  affirmations,  which  we 
find  in  God's  word,  concerning  this  or  that,  apart  from  the 
other,  otherwise  we  shall,  in  effect,  deny  what  God  af- 
firms; and  modest  to  confess  that  how  great  the  distinction 
is,  with  precise  and  particular  limitation,  we  do  not  know 
nor  dare  be  curious  to  determine  or  inquire  :  only  that  as 
it  cannot  be  less,  than  is  sufficient  to  sustain  distinct  pre- 
dicates or  attributions;  so  it  cannot  be  so  great,  as  to  in- 
trench upon  the  unity  of  the  Godhead.  Which  limits,  on 
the  one  hand,  and  the  other,  God  hath  himself  plainly  set  t.s. 

IV.  Therefore  since  we  may  ofiend  verv  highl'v  bv  an 
arrogant  pretence  to  the  knowledge  we  have  not,  biit  .shall 
not  offend  by  confessing  the  ignorance  which  we  cannot 
(and  therefore  need  not)  remedy,  we  should  abstain  from 
confident  conclusions  in  the  dark,  and  at  random,  espe- 
cially concerning  the  nature  of  God ;  and  for  instance, 
from  saying.  We  clearly  see  a  sufficient  distinction  of 
Father,  Son,  and  Spirit,  in  the  Godhead  cannot  be,  or  is 
impossible.  It  expresses  too  little  revei-«nce  of  God,  as 
if  his  being  had  any,  or  so  narrow,  limits  as  tobe  presently 
seen  through;  an  over-magnifying  opinion  of  ourselves,  as 
if  our  eye  could  penetrate  that  vast  and  sacred  darkne.ss, 
or  the  glorious  light,  (equally  impervious  to  us,)  wherein 
God  dwells;  too  great  rudeness  to  the  rest  of  men,  more 
than  implicitly  representing  all  mankind  besides  as  stark 
blind,  who  can  discern  nothing  of  what  we  pretend  clearly 
to  see. 

And  it  is  manifest  this  cannot  be  said  to  be  impossible, 
upon  any  other  pretence,  but  that  it  consists  not  with  the 
vnity  of  the  Godhead,  in  opposition  to  the  multiplication 
thereof,  or  with  that  simplicity  which  stands  in  opposition 
tothe  concurrence  in  all  perfections  therein,  with  distinction 
greater  than  hath  been  commonly  thought  to  belong  to 
divine  nature.  For  the  former,  we  are  at  a  certainty :  but 
for  the  latter,  how  do  we  know  what  the  original,  natural 
state  of  the  Divine  Being  is,  in  this  respect  ?  or  what 
simplicity  belongs  to  it  1  or  what  it  may  contain  or  com- 
prehend in  it,  consistently  with  the  unity  thereof!  or  so, 


138 


A  CALM  DISCOURSE  OF 


but  that  it  may  still  be  but  one  Divine  Being  1  What  dis- 
tinction and  unity  (conserved  together)  we  can  have, 
otherwise,  an  idea  of  without  any  apprehended  inconsist- 
ency, absurdity,  or  contradiction,  we  shall  rashly  pro- 
nounce to  be  impossible  (or  somewhat  imperfectly  resem- 
bled thereby)  in  the  Divine  Being,  unless  we  understood 
it  better  than  we  do.  Some  prints  and  characters  of  that 
most  perfect  Being  may  be  apprehended  in  the  creatures, 
especially  that  are  intelligent ;  such  being  expressly  said 
to  have  been  made  in  the  image  of  God.  And  if  here  we 
find  oneness,  with  dislincLion,  meeting  together  in  the  same 
created  intelligent  being,  this  may  assist  our  understand- 
ings in  conceiving  what  is  possible  to  be,  (in  much  higher 
perfection,)  though  not  to  the  concluding  what  certainly 
is,  in  the  v.ncrealed. 

V.  Waving  the  many  artificial  unions  of  distinct  things, 
that  united,  and  continuing  distinct,  make  one  thing  under 
one  name,  1  shall  only  consider  what  is  natural,  and  give 
instance  in  what  is  nearest  us,  owr  very  selves ;  though  the 
truth  is,  we  know  sro  little  of  our  own  nature,  that  it  is  a 
strange  assuming  when  we  confidently  determine  what  is 
impossible  to  be  in  the  Divine  nature,  besides  what  he  hath 
told  us,  or  made  our  own  faculties  plainly  tell  us,  is  so; 
and  what  he  hath  made  any  man's  faculties  to  tell  him,  he 
halh  made  all  men's  that  can  use  them. 

But  so  much  we  manifestly  find  in  ourselves,  that  we 
have  three  natures  in  us  very  sufficiently  distinguishable, 
and  that  are  intimately  united,  the  vegetalive,  sensitive,  and 
the  intellective.  So  that  notwithstanding  their  manifest 
distinction,  no  one  scruples,  when  they  are  united,  to  call 
the  whole  the  huvian  nature.  Or  if  any  make  a  difficulty, 
or  would  raise  a  dispute  about  the  distinction  of  these 
three  natures,  I  for  the  present  content  myself  with  what 
is  more  obvious,  not  doubting  to  reach  any  mark  by  de- 
grees, viz.  that  we  are  made  up  of  a  mind,  and  a  body, 
somewhat  that  can  think,  and  somewhat  that  cannot ; 
sufficiently  distinct,  yet  so  united,  that  not  only  every  one, 
without  hesitation,  calls  that  thing  made  up  of  them,  one 
man ;  but  also  every  one  that  considers  deeply,  will  be 
transported  with  wonder  by  what  more  than  magical  knot 
or  tie,  two  things,  so  little  akin,  should  be  so  held  together, 
that  the  one  that  hath  the  power  of  will  and  choice  cannot 
sever  itself,  and  return  into  the  same  union  with  the  other, 
at  pleasure.     But, 

VI.  Since  we  find  this  is  a  thing  actually  done,  the 
making  up  of  two  things  of  so  different  natures  into  one 
thing,  that  puts  the  maUer  out  of  doubt  that  this  was  a 
thing  possible  to  be  done,  'twas  what  God  could  do,  for  he 
hath  done  it.  And  if  that  were  possible  to  him,  to  unite 
two  tilings  of  so  very  diflerent  natures  into  one  thing  ;  let 
any  colourable  reason  be  assigned  me,  why  it  should  not 
be  as  possible  to  him,  to  unite  two  things  of  a  like  nature ; 
i.  e.  if  it  were  possible  to  him,  to  unite  a  spirit  and  a  body, 
why  is  it  less  possible  to  him  to  have  united  two  spirits? 
And  then  I  further  inquire,  if  it  were  possible  to  him  to 
unite  two,  would  it  not  be  as  possible  to  unite  three  ? 
Let  reason  here  be  put  upon  its  utmost  stretch,  and  tell  me 
what  in  all  this  is  less  possible  than  what  we  see  is  ac- 
tually done  !  Will  any  man  say  two  or  three  spirits  united, 
being  of  the  same  nature,  will  mingle,  be  confounded,  run 
into  one  another,  and  lose  their  distinction]  I  ask,  suppos- 
ing them  to  pre-exist  apart,  antecedently  to  their  union,  are 
they  not  now  distinguished  by  their  own  individual  es- 
sences ;  let  ihem  be  as  much  united  as  our  souls  and  bodies 
are,  why  should  they  not  as  much  remain  distinct  by  their 
singular  essences  1  There  is  no  more  hazard  of  their  losing 
their  distinction,  by  the  similitude  of  their  natures,  than 
of  our  soul  and  body  transmuting  one  another  by  their 
dissimilitude. 

I  know  not  but  the  dictates  of  so  vogued  an  author  with 
many  in  this  age,  as  Spinosa,  may  signify  somewhat  with 
some  into  whose  hands  this  may  fall ;  who,  with  design 
bad  enough,  says,  that  from  whence  one  might  collect  the 
remaining  distinction  of  two  things  of  the  same  nature  in 
such  a  supposed  union,  were  the  more  easily  conceivable  of 
the  two,  i.  e.  than  of  two  things  of  different  natures.  For 
in  his  Posthumous  Ethics,  de  Deo,  he  lays  this  down  in 
explication  of  his  second  definition,  Cogitatio  alia  cogi- 
tatione  terminatur.  At  corpus  nan  terminatur  cogitatione, 
nee  cogitatio  corpore.    Some  may  regard  him  in  this,  and 


it  would  do  our  business.  For  my  part,  I  care  not  to  be 
so  much  beholden  to  him  ;  for  it  would,  at  the  long  run, 
overdo  it;  and  I  know  his  meaning.  But  I  see  not  but 
two  congenerous  natures  are  equally  capable  of  being 
united,  retaining  their  distinction,  as  two  of  a  different 
kind;  and  that  sufficiently  serves  the  present  purpose. 

However,  let  any  man  tell  me,  why  it  should  be  im- 
possible to  God  so  to  unite  three  spirits,  as  by  his  own 
power  to  fix  their  limits  also,  and  by  a  perpetual  law 
inwrought  in  their  distinct  beings,  to  keep  them  distinct,  so 
that  they  shall  remain  everlastingly  united,  but  not  iden- 
tified ;  and  by  virtue  of  that  union,  be  some  one  thing, 
which  must,  yet,  want  a  name,  as  much,  and  as  truly,  as 
our  soul  and  body  united  do  constitute  one  man.  Nor  is 
it  now  the  question,  whether  such  a  union  would  be  con- 
venient or  inconvenient,  apt  or  inapt ;  but  all  the  question 
is,  whether  it  be  possible  or  impossible ;  which  is  as  much 
as  we  are  concerned  in  at  this  time.  But  you  will  say, 
Suppose  it  be  possible,  to  what  purpose  is  all  this  ?  how 
remote  is  it  from  the  supposed  trinity  in  the  Godhead ! 
You  will  see  to  what  purpose  it  is  by  and  by.  I  there- 
fore add, 

VII.  That  if  such  a  union  of  three  things,  whether  of 
like  or  of  different  natures,  so  as  that  they  shall  be  truly 
one  thing,  and  yet  remain  distinct,  though  united,  can  be 
effected,  as  one  may  with  certainty  pronounce,  there  is  no- 
thing more  impossible  or  unconceivable  in  it,  than  we  find 
is  actually  done,  then  it  is  not  intrinsically  impossible,  or 
objectively ;  it  is  not  impossible  in  itself.  No  power  can 
effect  what  is  simply  and  in  itself  impossible.  There  is 
therefore  no  contradiction,  no  repugnancy,  or  inconsist- 
ency, as  to  the  thing,  nor  consequently  any  shadow  of  ab- 
surdity in  the  conception  hereof.     Whereupon, 

VIII.  If  such  a  imion  with  such  distinction  be  not 
impossible  in  itself,  so  that  by  a  competent  power  it  is  suf- 
ficiently possiblp  to  be  effected,  or  made ;  we  are  to  con- 
sider whether  it  will  appear  more  impossible,  or  whether  I 
shall  have  a  conception  in  my  own  mind  any  thing  more 
incongruous,  if  I  conceive  such  a  union,  with  such  dis- 
tinction, unmade,  or  that  is  original  and  eternal  in  an  un- 
raarle  or  uncreated  being.  For  we  are  first  to  consider 
the  thing  in  itself,  abstractly  from  made  or  unmade,  created 
or  uncreated,  being.  And  if  it  pass  clear  of  contradiction 
or  absurdity,  in  its  abstract  notion,  we  are  so  far  safe,  and 
are  not  liable  to  be  charged  as  having  the  conception  in 
our  minds  of  an  impossible,  absurd,  or  self-repugnant 
thing.  So  that  clamour  and  cry  of  the  adversary  must 
cease,  or  be  itself  absurd,  and  without  pretence.  This 
now  supposed,  union  with  such  distinction,  must  if  it  be 
judged  impossible,  as  it  is  in  our  thoughts  introduced  into 
unmade  being,  can  no  longer  be  judged  impo.ssible  as  it 
is  a  union  of  distinct  things,  but  only  as  it  is  unmade,  or 
is  supposed  to  have  place  in  the  unmade  eternal  Being. 

IX.  This  is  that  then  we  have  further  to  consider,  whe- 
ther, supposing  it  possible  that  three  spiritual  beings  might 
as  well  be  made  or  created  in  a  state  of  so  near  union  with 
continuing  distinction,  as  to  admit  of  becoming  one  spiri- 
tual being,  to  be  called  by  some  fit  name,  which  might 
easily  be  found  out,  if  the  thing  were  produced,  as  that  a 
spiritual  being  and  a  corporeal  being  may  be  made  and 
created  in  a  state  of  so  near  union  with  continuing  distinc- 
tion, as  to  become  one  spiritual-corporeal  being,  called  by 
the  name  of  man  ;  I  say,  whether,  supposing  the  former  of 
these  to  be  as  possible  to  be  done,  or  created,  as  the  latter, 
which  we  see  done  already,  we  may  not  as  well  suppose 
somewhat  like  it,  but  infinitely  more  perfect,  to  be  original 
and  eternal  in  the  uncreated  Being]  If  the  first  be  pos- 
sible, the  next  actual,  what  pretence  is  there  to  think  the 
last  impossible] 

X.  I  might  add,  as  that  -which  may  be  expected  to  be 
significant  with  such  as  do  seriously  believe  the  doctrines 
both  of  the  incarnation  and  the  trinity,  though  I  know  it 
will  signify  nothing  with  them  who  with  equal  contempt 
reject  both,  that  the  union  of  the  two  natures,  the  human, 
made  up  of  a  human  body  and  a  human  soul,  which  are 
two  exceedingly  different  natures,  with  the  divine,  which 
is  a  third,  and  infinitely  more  different  from  both  the  other 
in  one  person,  viz.  of  the  Son  of  God,  cannot  certainly 
appear  to  any  considering  person  more  conceivable  or  pos- 
sible, than  that  which  we  now  suppose,  but  assert  not,  of 


THE  TRINITY  IN  THE  GODHEAD. 


J39 


three  distinct  essences  united  in  the  07ie  Godhead,  upon 
any  account,  but  this  only,  that  this  is  supposed  to  be  an  un- 
made, eternal  union,  the  other  made  and  temporal;  which 
renders  not  the  one  less  conceivable  than  the  other,  as  it 
is  union,  but  only  as  in  the  several  terms  ol'this  union  it 
is  supposed  eternally  to  have  place  in  the  being  of  God  ; 
whereas  that  other  union,  in  respect  of  one  of  its  terms, 
is  acknowledged  de  novo  to  have  place  there. 

In  short,  here  is  a  spiritual  created  being,  a  human  soul, 
setting  aside  for  the  present  the  consideration  of  the  human 
body,  which  united  therewith  made  up  the  man,  Christ, 
confessed  to  be  in  hypostatical  union  with  the  uncreated 
spiritual  being  of  God-,  not  as  that  being  is  in  the  person 
of  the  Father,  nor  as  in  the  person  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  for 
then  they  should  have  become  man  too;  but  as  it  was  in 
the  person  of  the  Son  only.  Why  shall  it  be  thought  less 
possible  t4iat  three  rmcreated  spiritual  beings  maybe  in  so 
near  a  union  with  each  other  as  to  be  one  God,  as  that  a 
created  spirit,  and  body  too,  should  be  in  so  near  a  union 
with  one  of  the  persons  in  the  Godhead  only,  as  therewith 
to  be  one  person?  Will  it  not  hereby  be  much  more  easily 
apprehensible  how  one  of  the  persons  (as  the  common  way 
of  speaking  is)  should  be  incarnate,  and  not  the  other  two  1 
Will  not  the  notion  of  person  itself  be  much  more  unex- 
ceptionable, when  it  shall  be  supposed  to  have  its  own  in- 
dividual natm-e  1  And  why  is  a  natural,  eternal  union 
of  uncreated  natures,  with  continual  distinction,  or  with- 
out confusion,  sufficient  unto  the  imity  of  the  Godhead, 
less  supposable,  than  a  temporal  contracted  union  with 
created  natures,  without  confusion  too,  that  shall  be  suffi- 
cient to  the  unity  of  a  person  1  Will  it  be  any  thing  more 
contrary  to  such  simplicity  of  the  Divine  nature  as  is  ne- 
cessarily to  be  ascribed  thereto  1  or  will  it  be  Iritheism, 
and  inconsistent  with  the  acknowledged  inviolable  unity 
of  the  Godhead  1 

XI.  That  we  may  proceed  to  speak  to  both,  let  these 
things  be  considered  with  seriousness  and  sobriety  of  mind, 
as  to  ourselves ;  with  all  possible  reverence  towards  the 
blessed  God ;  and  with  just  candour  and  equanimity  to- 
wai'ds  other  men.  And  first,  we  must  leave  it  to  any  one's 
future  representation  (not  being  hitherto  able  to  discern 
any  thing)  what  there  is  in  all  this  that  is  here  supposed 
any  way  repugnant  to  such  simplicity,  as  Grod  any  where 
claims  to  his  own  being,  or  that  plain  reason  will  constrain 
us  to  ascribe  to  him,  or  that  is  really  in  itself  any  perfec- 
tion. We  are  sure  God  hath  not  by  his  word  taught  us 
to  ascribe  to  him  universal  absolute  simplicit}' ;  or  .sug- 
gested to  us  any  such  notices  as  directly  and  evidently  in- 
fer it  to  belong  to  him;  nor  hath  seemed  at  all  intent  upon 
cautioning  of  us  lest  we  should  not  ascribe  it.  The  v-ord 
we  find  not  among  his  attributes  mentioned  in  the  Holy 
Scriptures.  The  thing,  so  far  as  it  signifies  any  general 
perfection,  we  are  sure  belongs  to  him;  but  the  Scriptures 
are  not  written  with  visible  design  to  obviate  any  danger 
of  our  misconceiving  his  nature,  by  not  apprehending  it  to 
be  in  every  respect  most  absolutely  simple.  It  doth  teach 
us  to  conceive  of  him  as  most  powerful,  most  wise,  most 
gracious ;  and  doth  not  teach  us  to  conceive  all  these  in 
the  abstract,  viz.  power,  wisdom,  and  goodness,  to  be  the 
same  thing.  Yet  we  easily  apprehend,  by  refleciing  upon 
ourselves,  that,  without  multiplying  the  subject,  these  may 
all  reside  together  in  the  same  man.  But  our  dilhculty  is 
greater  to  conceive  what  is  commonly  taught,  that  these, 
without  real  distinction,  or  with  formal  only,  as  contradis- 
tinguished to  the  dilTerence  of  thing  from  thing,  are  in  the 
abstract  affirmable  of  God,  that  he  is  power,  wisdom,  good- 
ness :  that  to  his  being  belongs  so  ab.solute  simplicity,  that 
we  must  not  look  upon  these  as  things  really  distinguishable, 
there,  from  one  another,  but  as  diflFerent  conceptions  of  the 
.same  thing.  We  must  conceive  of  things  as  we  can,  not 
35  we  cannot :  and  are  only  concerned  to  take  heed  of  un- 
revealed,  and  undemonstrable,  and  peremptory'  concep- 
tions concerning  that  glorious,  most  incomprehensible, 
and  ever  blessed  Being;  to  beware  of  too  curious  prying 
into  the  nature  of  God,  when  it  was  so  penal  to  look  unduly 
into,  or  even  to  touch,  that  only-hallowed  symbol  of  his 
presence,  his  ark,  beyond  what  he  hath  revealed  expressly, 
or  we  can  most  clearly,  by  generally  received  light,  appre- 
hend.' When  we  know  there  is  a  knowledge  of  him  so 
••eserved  from  us,  whereof  our  minds  are  so  little  receptive, 


that  it  seemed  all  one,  whether  he  told  us  he  did  dwell  in 
thick  darkness,  or  in  inaccessible  lighi.  'Twill  be  a  re- 
proach to  us,  if  we  shall  need  to  be  taught  reverence  o£ 
him  by  pagans;  or  that  such  a  document  should  need  to 
be  given  us  for  our  admonition,  as  that  very  ancient  in- 
scription in  one  of  their  temples  imported,  "  lam  whatso- 
ever was,  is,  or  shall  be,  and  who  is  he  that  shall  draw 
aside  my  veil  1" 

XII.  If  we  should  .suppose  three  spiritual  necessary  be- 
ings, the  one  whereof  were  mere  power  (or  furious  might) 
destitute  of  either  wisdom  or  goodness  ;  another  mere  wis- 
dom (or  craft  rather)  destitute  of  euher  goodness  or  power; 
a  third  mere  goodness  (or  fond  and  fruitless  kindness) 
destitute  of  either  power  or  wisdom;  existing  separately 
and  apart  from  each  other  ;  this  triple  conception  would 
overthrow  it.self,  and  must  certainly  allow  little  ease  to  any 
considering  mind.  Nor  could  any  of  these  be  God.  Biit 
if  we  conceive  essential  power,  wi.-<dom,  and  goodness  con- 
curring in  one  spiritual  necessarily  existent  Being,  in 
which  are  each  of  these,  not  only,  by  the  n-coi;;j^ojpr)(r<{  usually 
acknowledged  in  the  three  persons,  totally  permeating  one 
another,  (which  signifying  but  mere  presence,  as  we  may 
express  it,  is,  in  comparison,  a  small  thing,)  but  really  and 
vitally  united,  by  so  much  a  nearer  and  more  perfect  union 
than  hath  ever<:ome  under  our  notice  among  created  be- 
ings, of  partly  corporeal,  partly  incorporeal,  natures,  by 
how  much  beings  of  purest  spirituality  may  be  apter  to  the 
most  intimate  union,  than  when  one  is  quite  of  a  different 
nature  from  the  other,  and  as  whatsoever  union  is  suppo- 
sable to  be,  originally,  eteinaJly,  and  by  natural  necessity^, 
in  the  most  perfect  being,  may  be  thought  inexpressibly 
more  perfect  than  any  other.  And  if,  hereupon,  we  fur- 
ther conceive  the  most  entire,  perpetual,  everlasting  inter- 
course and  communion  of  these  three,  so  originally  united, 
that  what  is  conceivable  of  perfection  or  excellency  in  any 
one  of  these,  is  as  much  the  others,  for  whatsoeveT  exer- 
cises or  operations,  as  his  own;  I  cannot  apprehend  what 
there  is  of  repugnancy,  contradiction,  or  absurdii}'  in  this 
supposition ;  nor  any  thing  that,  by  any  measures  he  hath 
given  us  to  govern  our  conceptions  of  hirn,  appears  unbe- 
commg  or  unworth)''  of  God.  There  is,  'tis  true,  less  sim- 
plicity, but  more  perfection,  ascribed  hereby  to  the  Divine, 
Being,  entirely  considered  :  and  more  intelligibly,  than  if 
you  go  about  to  impose  upon  yourself  the  notion  of  most 
absolute  omnimodous  simplicity  therein.  There  would  be 
yet  more  ab.^^olute  simplieity-  ascribed  unto  an  eternal  Be- 
ing, if  you  should  conceive  in  it  mere  power  exclusive  of 
wisdom,  and  goodness — and  so  of  the  rest ;  but  infinitely 
less  perfection.  And,  if  that  would  avail  any  thing,  I  could 
easily  produce  more  schoolmen  than  one,  of  no  small  note, 
concurring  in  this  sentiment,  that  simplicitas,  si  sumatiir 
in  totd  sua  amplitudine,  non  dicit  pcrfectioneni  sim.pliciter. 
But  I  count  it  not  worth  the  while. 

XIII.  And  let  it  be  here  again  observed,  I  speak  not  of 
this,  as  any  certain  determination,  that  thus  things  are 
done  in  the  Deity ;  but  as  a  possible  supposition  of  what, 
for  ought  we  Icnow,  mav  be.  If  any  say  this  gives  us  the 
notion  of  a  compounded  Deity,  or  of  a  composition  in  it; 
I  only  say  the  term,  composition,  seems  to  impl}'  a  pre-ex- 
isting co7«;;f)n<?«<  that  brings  such  things  tc«:ether,  and  sup- 
poses such  and  such  more  simple  things  to  have  pre-ex- 
isted apart  or  separate,  and  to  be  brought  afterwards  to- 
gether into  a  united  state.  Whereupon  I  peremptt)rily  deny 
any  composition  in  the  being  of  God.  And  let  any  man 
from  what  hath  been  hitherto  said,  or  supposed,  infer  it,  if 
he  can.  Imagine  this  of  the  Godhead,  and  you  shall,  we 
acknowledge,  conceive  most  untruly,  most  unworthily, 
most  injuriously  of  God  ;  and  what  is  most  absolutely  im- 
possible to  agree  to  the  Divine  Being.  And  for  this  rea- 
son only,  that  I  know  of,  that  carries  any  shadow  of  im- 
portance in  it,  many  have  beon  .«o  apt,  without  the  least 
warrant  from  any  revelation  God  hath  given  of  himself,  to 
ascribe  to  him  an  unintelligible  siynplicity ;  apprehending 
they  must  otherwise  admit  a  composition  in  his  most  sacreii 
es.sence,  i.  e.  the  putting  of  things  together  that  were  sepa- 
rate, to  make  it  up;  which  must  suppose  it  a  new  produc- 
tion, that  once  was  not,  and  from  an  imperfect  state  by  the 
coalition  of  things  once  severed,  to  have  arrived  to  the 
perfection  we  ascribe  to  the  Divine  Being;  which  sort  of 
being  cannot,  without  the  most  absurd  and  blasphemous 


140 


A  CALM  DISCOURSE  OF 


contradiction,  ever  admit  to  be  called  God.  But  if  we 
suppose  most  perfect,  essential  power,  wisdom,  love,  by 
original,  eternal,  and  most  natural  necessity,  to  have  co- 
existed in  that  being  most  intimately  united,  though  dis- 
tinct ;  that  seemingly  important  reason  will  appear  but  a 
shadow,  and  accordingly  vanish  as  such. 

And  indeed  this  is  no  more  than  what,  in  effect,  such  as 
discourse  upon  this  subject  do  commonly  say  (though  per- 
haps some  may  less  consider  the  ducture  and  sequel  of 
their  own  pi-ofessed  sentiments)  when  they  speak  of  the 
incomprehensibleness  of  God's  essence,  and  how  impossi- 
ble it  IS  a  finite  mind  should  form  or  receive  a  full  and 
complete  idea  of  it ;  or  when  they  therefore  say,  that  any 
conceptions  we  can  have  of  the  wisdom,  goodness,  or  any 
other  attribute  of  the  Divine  Being,  are  still  but  inadequate 
conceptions ;  whereby  they  must  mean,  when  we  consider 
for  instance  the  wisdom  of  God,  that  we  not  only  fall  infi- 
nitely short  of  conceiving  all  that  belong  to  the  Divine 
Being,  in  that  kind,  but  there  is  also  iniinitely  more  be- 
longing thereto,  in  other  kinds,  ihan  it  is  possible  that 
concepiion  can  contain  or  express.  And  when  we  have 
the  conception  in  our  minds  of  the  Divine  wi.sdom,  do  we 
not  apprehend  there  is  really  somewhat  else  in  the  Divine 
Being,  whereof  that  term  hath  no  signification  1  or  will 
we  say  his  v/isdom  and  his  power  are  really  the  same 
thing?  as  tliey  must  either  be  the  same  or  divers  things. 
If  we  say  they  are  the  same,  we  must,  I  doubt,  confess  our- 
selves to  say  what  we  do  not  understand,  especially  when, 
in  the  abstract,  we  affirm  them  of  one  another,  and  of  God  ; 
and  accordingly  say  that  wisdom  is  power,  and  power  is 
wisdom,  and  the  one  of  these  is  God,  and  the  other,  God. 
I  know  a  formal  distinction  is  commonly  admitted,  i.  e. 
that  the  conception  of  the  one  is  not  included  in  the  con- 
ception of  the  other.  But  are  these  different  conceptions 
true  or  false  1  If  false,  why  are  they  admitted  1  If  true, 
there  must  be  somewhat  in  the  nature  of  the  thing  cor- 
responding to  them.  But  if  we  say  they  are  distinct,  but 
most  intimately  and  eternally  united  in  the  Divine  Being, 
by  a  necessary  natural  union,  or  that  it  is  npt  impossible 
so  to  be,  \vhat  we  say  will,  I  think,  agree  with  itself,  and 
not  disagree  with  any  other  conception  we  are  obliged  to 
have  concerning  the  blessed  God. 

In  the  meantime,  I  profess  not  to  judge,  we  are  under  the 
precise  notions  of  power,  wisdom,  and  goodness,  to  con- 
ceive of  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost :  nor  that  the 
notions  we  have  of  those  or  any  other  divine  perfections, 
do  exactly  correspond  to  what,  in  God,  is  signified  by  these 
names;  but  I  reckon,  that  what  relief  and  ease  is  given 
our  minds  by  their  being  disentangled  from  any  appre- 
hended necessity  of  thinking  these  to  be  the  very  same 
things,  may  facilitate  to  us  our  apprehending  the  Father, 
Son,  and  Spirit  to  be  sufficiently  distinct,  for  our  affirming, 
or  understanding  the  affirmation,  of  some  things  concern- 
ing some  one,  without  including  the  other  of  them. 

XIV.  But  some  perhaps  will  say,  while  we  thus  ampli- 
fy the  distinction  of  these  glorious  three,  we  shall  seem  to 
have  too  friendl}^  a  look  towards,  or  shall  say  in  effect, 
what  Dr.  Sherlock  is  so  highly  blamed  for  saying,  and 
make  three  Gods.  I  answer,  that  if  with  sincere  minds  we 
inquire  after  truth,  for  its  own  sake,  we  shall  little  regard 
the  friendship  or  enmity,  honour  or  dishonour,  of  this  or 
that  man.  If  this  were  indeed  so,  doth  what  was  true  be- 
come false,  because  such  a  man  hath  said  it  1  But  it  is  re- 
mote from  being  so.  There  is  no  more  here  positively  as- 
serted, than  generally  so  much  distinction  between  the  Fa- 
ther, Son,  and  Spirit,  as  is  in  itself  necessary  tothefound- 
•ng  the  distinct  attributions,  which  in  the  Scriptures  are 
severally  given  them — that  when  the  Word  or  Wisdom  was 
said  to  be  Avith  God  (understanding  it,  as  the  case  requires, 
with  God  the  Father)  in  the  creation  of  all  things,  we  may 
not  think,  nothing  more  is  said  than  that  he  was  with  him- 
self;  that  when  the  Word  is  said  to  be  made  flesh,  'tis 
equally  said  the  Father  was  made  flesh,  or  the  Holy  Ghost ; 
that  when  the  Hol}^  Ghost  is  said  to  have  proceeded  from, 
or  have  been  sent,  by  the  Father,  or  the  Son,  he  is  said  to 
have  proceeded  from  himself,  or  have  sent  himself. — But,  in 
the  meantime,  this  is  offered,  without  determining  precisely 
how  great  distinction  is  necessary  to  this  purpose.  It  is  not 
here  positively  said  these  three  are  three  distinct  substances, 

a  1  John  T.  b  John  x. 


three  infinite  minds  or  spirits.  We  again  and  again  insist, 
and  inculcate,  how  becoming  and  necessary  it  is  to  abstain 
from  over-bold  inquiries,  or  positive  determinations,  con- 
cerning the  limits,  or  the  extent  of  this  distinction,  beyond 
what  the  Scriptures  have,  in  general,  made  necessary  to 
the  mentioned  purpose ;  that  we  may  not  throw  ourselves 
into  guilt,  nor  cast  our  minds  into  unnecessary  straits,  by 
affirming  this  or  that  to  be  necessary,  or  impossible  in 
these  matters. 

XV.  The  case  is  only  thus,  that  since  we  are  plainly  led 
by  the  express  revelation  God  hath  made  of  himself  to  us 
in  his  word,  to  admit  a  trinal  conception  oi  him,  or  to  con- 
ceive this  threefold  distinction  in  his  being,  of  Father,  Son, 
and  Spirit ;  since  we  have  so  much  togreaten  that  distinc- 
tion, divers  things  being  said  of  each  of  these,  that  must 
not  be  understood  of  either  of  the  other  ;  since  we  have 
nothing  to  limit  it  on  the  other  hand,  but  the  unity  of  the 
Godhead,  which  we  are  sure  can  be  but  One,  both  from 
the  plain  word  of  God,  and  the  nature  of  the  thing  itself; 
since  we  are  assured  both  these  may  consist,  viz.  this 
trinity,  and  this  unity,  by  being  told  "  there  are  three, 
and  these  three  (i.  e.  plainly  continuing  three)  are  ev,  one 
thing ;  which  one  thing  can  mean  nothing  else  but  God- 
head; as  is  also  .^^aid  concerning  two  of  them,  elsewhere, 
(there  being  no  occasion,  then,  to  mention  the  third, b)  I 
and  my  Father  are  one  thing.  We  are  hereupon  unavoid- 
ably put  upon  it  to  cast  in  CHir  own  minds  (and  are  con- 
cerned to  do  it  with  the  most  religious  reverence  and  pro- 
foundest  humility)  what  sort  of  thing  this  most  sacred  God- 
head may  be,  unto  which  this  one?icss  is  ascribed,  with 
threefold  distinction.  And  manifestly  finding  there  are  in 
the  creation  made  unions,  with  sufficient  remaining  dis- 
tinction, particularly  in  ourselves,  that  we  are  a  soul  and 
a  body,  (things  of  so  very  different  natures,)  that  often  the 
soul  is  called  the  man,  (not  excluding  the  body,)  and  the 
body,  or  our  flesh,  called  the  man,  (not  excluding  the  soul,) 
we  are  plainly  led  to  apprehend,  that  it  is  rather  more  easily 
possible  there  might  be  two  spirits  (so  much  more  agreeing 
in  nature)  so  united,  as  to  be  one  thing,  and  yet  continuing 
distinct ;  and  if  two,  there  might  as  well  be  three,  if  the  Cre- 
ator pleased.  And  hence  are  led  further  to  apprehend,  that 
if  such  a  made  union,  with  continuing  distinction,  be  possi- 
ble in  created  being,  it  is,  for  ought  we  know,  not  impossible 
in  the  uncreated ;  that  there  may  be  such  an  eternal  unmade 
union,  wilh  continuing  distinction.  And  all  this  being  only 
represented  as  possible  to  be  thus,  without  concluding  that 
thus  it  certainly  is,  sufficiently  serves  our  purpose,  that  no 
pretence  might  remain  of  excluding  the  eternal  Word, 
and  the  eternal  Spirit,  the  Godhead,  as  if  a  trinity  therein 
were  contradictious  and  impossible,  repugnant  to  reason 
and  common  sense.     Where  now  is  the  coincidency  "? 

XVI.  Nor  is  there,  hereupon,  so  great  a  remaining  diffi- 
culty to  salve  the  unity  of  the  Godhead,  when  the  supposi- 
tion is  taken  in,  of  the  natural,  eternal,  necessary  union 
of  these  three  that  hath  been  mentioned. 

And  it  shall  be  considered,  that  the  Godhead  is  not  sup- 
posed more  necessary  to  exist,  than  these  three  are  to  co- 
exist in  the  nearest  and  most  intimate  union  with  each 
other  therein.  That  Spiritual  Being  which  exists  neces- 
sarily, and  is  every  way  absolutely  perfect,  whether  it  con- 
sist of  three  in  one,  or  of  only  one,  is  God.  We  could  never 
have  known,  'tis  true,  that  there  are  such  three  coexisting 
in  this  one  God,  if  he  himself  had  not  told  us.  "=  What 
man  knoweth  the  things  of  a  man,  but  the  spirit  of  a  man 
that  is  in  him  7  Even  so  the  things  of  God  none  knoweth, 
but  the  Spirit  of  God.  In  telling  us  this  he  hath  told  us 
no  impossible,  no  inconceivable,  thing.  It  is  absurd  and 
very  irreligious  presumption,  to  say  this  cannot  be.  If  a 
worm  were  so  far  capable  of  thought,  as  to  determine  this 
or  that  concerning  our  nature  ;  and  that  such  a  thing  were 
impossible  to  belong  to  it,  which  we  find  to  be  in  it,  we 
should  trample  upon  it !  More  admirable  Divine  patience 
.spares  us  !  He  hath  only  let  us  know  that  this  is  the  state 
of  his  essence,  whereof  we  should  have  been  otherwise  ig- 
norant. This  is  its  constitution,  (q.  d.  ita  se  habet  compa- 
ratam)  thus  it  is  in  and  of  itself,  that  there  are  three  in  it 
to  be  conceived,  under  the  distinct  notions  of  Father,  Son, 
and  Spirit,  without  telling  us  expressly  how  far  they  are 
distinct,  in  terms  of  art,  or  in  scholastic  forms  of  speech. 

c  1  Cor.  ii.  11. 


THE  TRINITY  IN  THE  GODHEAD. 


Ill 


But  he  considered  us  as  men,  reasonable  creatures;  and 
ihat  when  he  tells  us  there  are  three  existing  in  his  being, 
of  each  of  which  some  things  are  said  that  must  not  be 
understood  spoken  of  the  other,  and  yet  that  there  is  but 
one  Grod:  we  are  not  incapable  of  understanding,  that 
these  three  must  agree  in  Godhead ;  and  yet  that  they  must 
be  snfficienily  disiinct,  unto  this  purpose,  that  we  may 
distinctly  conceive  ot,  apply  ourselves  to,  and  expect  from, 
the  one  and  the  other  of  them.  And  the  franie  of  our 
religion  is  therefore  ordered  for  us  accordin-gly,  i.  e.  for  us 
to  whom  he  hath  revealed  so  much.  Otheis,  to  whom 
such  notices  are  not  given,  he  expects  should  deport  them- 
selves towards  him,  according  to  the  light  which  they  have, 
not  which  they  have  not. 

XVII.  But  an  hypothesis  in  this  affair,  which  leaves 
out  the  very  nexus,  that  natural,  elerval  union,  or  leaves 
it  out  of  its  proper  place,  and  insists  upon  mutual  conscious- 
?iess,  which,  at  the  most,  is  but  a  consequence  thereof,  wants 
the  principal  thing  requisite  to  the  salving  the  unity  of  the 
Godhead.  If  two  or  three  created  spirits  had  never  so 
perfeci  a  mutual  perspection  of  one  another,  that  would 
not  constitute  them  one  thing,  though  it  probably  argue 
them  to  be  so;  and  but  probably ;  for  God  might,  no 
doubt,  give  them  a  mutual  insight  into  one  another,  with- 
out making  them  one  ;  but  if  he  should  create  them  in  as 
near  a  union,  as  our  soul  and  body  are  in  with  one  another, 
(and  it  is  very  apprehensible  they  might  be  created  in  a 
much  nearer  and  more  permanent  one,  both  being  of  the 
same  nature,  and  neither  subject  to  decay,)  they  would  as 
truly  admit  to  be  called  one  something,  (as  such  a  creature 
might  well  enough  be  called,  till  a  fitter  name  were  found 
out,)  notwithstanding  their  supposed  continuing  distinc- 
tion, as  our  soul  and  body  united,  are,  notwithstanding 
their  continuing  distinction,  called  otie  man.  And  I  do 
sincerely  profess  such  a  union,  with  perpetual  distinction, 
seems  to  me  every  whit  as  conceivable,  being  supposed 
unmade,  uncreated,  and  eternal,  as  any  union  is  among 
creatures,  that  must  therefore  be  a  made  thing,  or  a  tem- 
poral production. 

And  whereas  nece.ssity  of  existence  (most  unquestiona- 
bly of  an  intellectual  being)  is  a  most  certain  and  funda- 
mental attribute  of  Deity ;  the  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit  being 
supposed  necessarily  existent,  in  this  united  state,  they  can- 
not but  be  God ;  and  the  Godhead  by  reason  of  this  neces- 
sary union  cannot  but  be  one ;  yet  so,  as  that  when  you 
predicate  Godhead,  or  the  name  of  God,  of  any  one  of  them, 
you  herein  express  a  trtie  but  an  inadequate  conception  of 
God :  i.  e.  the  Father  is  God,  not  excluding  the  Son  and 
Holy  Ghost ;  the  Son  is  God,  not  excluding  the  Father 
and  the  Holy  Ghost;  the  Holy  Ghost  is  God,  not  exclud- 
ing the  Father  and  the  Son.  Thus  our  body  is  the  man, 
MOt  excluding  the  soul ;  our  soul  is  the  man,  not  excluding 
the  body.  Therefore  their  union  in  Godhead  being  so  strict 
jnd  close,  notwithstanding  their  distinction,  to  say  that  any 
one  of  them  is  God,  in  exclusion  of  the  other  two,  would 
not  be  a  true  predication.  'Tis  indeed  said,d  the  Father 
is  the  only  true  God  ;  but  that  neither  excludes  the  Son 
nor  the  Holy  Ghost  from  being  the  true  God  also  ;  each  of 
them  communicating  in  that  Godhead  which  only  is  true. 
It  had  been  quite  another  thing,  if  it  had  been  said,  Thou, 
Father,  only,  art  the  true  God. 

XVIII.  The  order,  moreover,  is  this  way  also  very  clearly 
preserved  and  fitly  complied  with,  of  priority  and  posteri- 
ority, (not  of  time,  as  every  one  sees,  but  nature,)  which  the 
names  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit,  do  more  than  intimate. 
For  the  Father  (usually  called  by  the  divines  Fans  trini- 
tatis)  being  by  this  appellation  plainly  signified  to  be  first 
in  this  sacred  triad;  the  Son,  as  that  title  imports,  to  be  of 
the  Father;  and  the  Spirit  to  be  of,  or  from,  both  the 
other:  let  these  two  latter  be  considered  as  being  of  or 
from  the  first,  not  by  any  intervening  act  of  will,  by  which 
it  might  have  been  possible  they  should  not  have  been  so; 
but  by  natural,  necessary,  eternal  promanatioii ;  so  as 
that  necessity  of  existence  is  hereby  made  as  truly  to  agree 
to  them  as  to  the  first,  which  is  acknowledged  the  most 
fundamental  attribute  of  Deity.  This  promanutian  is 
hereby  sufficiently  distinguished  from  creation;  and  these 
two  set  infinitely  above  all  creatures,  or  the  whole  uni- 
verse of  created  beings.    Nor  is  there  hereby  any  place 

d  John  xvii,  3. 


left  for  that  unapt  application  of  a'  .son  and  a  grandson 
deriving  themselves  from  the  grandfather,  or  two  brothers 
from  one  father. 

And  although  it  be  also  true,  and  readily  acknowledged, 
that  there  are  numerous  instances  of  involuntar}-  produc- 
tions among  the  creatures,  and  which  are  therefore  to  be 
deemed  a  sort  of  natural  and  necessary  productions;  yet 
that  necessity  not  being  absolute,  but  ex  hypothesi  only, 
i.  e.  upon  supposition  of  their  productive  causes,  and  all 
things  requisite  to  those  productions,  being  so,  and  so, 
aptly  posited  in  order  thereto,  all  which  depended  upon 
one  sovereign  will  at  first,  so  that  all  might  have  been 
otherwise,  this  signifies  nothing  to  exempt  them  out  of 
the  state  and  rank  of  creatures,  or  invalidate  this  most 
unalterable  distinction  between  created  being  and  im- 
creaied. 

XIX.  But  if  here  it  shall  be  urged  to  me  that  one  indi- 
vidual, necessarily  existent,  spiritual  Being  alone  is  God, 
and  is  all  that  is  signified  by  the  name  of  God  :  and  there- 
fore that  three  distinct  individual,  necessarily  existent, 
spiritual  Beings  must  unavoidably  be  three  distinct  Gods: 

I  would  say,  if  by  one  individual,  necessarily  existent, 
spiritual  Being,  you  mean  one  such  Being,  comprehending 
Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  taken  together,  I  grant  it. 
But  if  by  one  individual,  necessarily  existent,  spiritual 
Being,  you  mean  either  the  Father,  Son,  or  Holy  Ghost, 
taken  sejunctly,  I  deny  it ;  for  both  the  other  are  truly 
signified  by  the  name  of  God  too,  as  well  as  that  one. 

T  therefore  say,  the  terra  individual  must  in  this  case 
now  supposed  (as  possible,  not  as  certain)  admit  of  a  two- 
fold application;  either  to  ihedistinct  essence  of  the  Father, 
or  of  the  Son,  or  of  the  Holy  Ghost;  or  to  the  entire 
essence  of  the  Godhead,  in  which  these  three  do  concur. 
Each  of  these  conceived  by  itself  are  (according  to  this 
.supposition)  individual  essences;  but  conceived  together, 
they  are  the  entire  individual  essence  of  God.  For  there 
is  but  one  such  essence,  and  no  more  ;  and  it  can  never  be 
multiplied,  nor  divided  into  more  of  the  same  name  and 
nature  :  as  the  body  and  soul  of  a  man,  are  one  individual 
body,  and  one  individual  soul,  but  both  together  are  but 
one  individual  man  ;  and  the  case  would  be  the  same,  if 
a  man  did  consist  of  two,  or  three  spirits  so  (or  more  nearly) 
united  together,  as  his  soul  and  body  are.  Especially  if 
you  should  suppose,  which  is  the  supposition  of  no  impos- 
sible or  imconceivable  thing,  that  these  three  spirits  which 
together,  as  we  now  do  suppose,  do  constitute  a  man,  were 
created  with  an  aptitude  to  this  united  co-existence,  but 
with  an  impossibility  of  existing  separatel)%  except  to  the 
Divine  power  which  created  them  conjimct,  and  might 
separate  them  so  as  to  make  them  exist  apart:  which  yet 
cannot  be  the  case  in  respect  of  three  such  uncreated  spi- 
ritual Beings,  whose  union  is  supposed  to  be  by  natural, 
eternal  necessity,  as  their  essences  are ;  and  are  therefore 
most  absolutely  inseparable. 

XX.  Or  if  it  should  be  said,  I  make  the  notion  of  God 
to  comprehend  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  and  a  God- 
head besides  common  to  these  three : 

I  answer;  nothing  I  have  said  or  supposed,  implies  any 
such  thing;  or  that  the  notion  of  God  imports  any  thing 
more  of  real  being,  than  is  contained  in  Father,  Son,  and 
Holy  Ghost,  taken  together,  and  most  intimately,  naturally, 
and  vitally,  by  eternal  necessity,  united  with  one  another. 
As  in  a  created  being,  consisting  of  more  things  than  one, 
taken  together  and  united,  a  man  for  instance,  there  is 
nothing  more  of  real  entity,  besides  what  is  contained  in 
his  body  nd  his  soul  united  and  taken  together.  'Tis  true 
that  this  term,  a  man,  speaks  somewhat  very  diverse  from 
a  human  body  taken  alone  or  a  human  soul  taken  alone, 
or  from  both,  separately  taKen;  but  nothing  diverse  from 
both  united,  and  taken  together.  And  for  what  this  may 
be  unjustly  collected  to  imply  of  composition,  repugnant  to 
Divine  perfection,  it  is  before  obviated.     Sect.  13. 

If  therefore  it  be  asked,  "  "What  do  we  conceive  under 
the  notion  of  God,  but  a  necessary,  spiritual  Being  1"  I 
answer,  that  this  is  a  true  notion  of  God,  and  nay  be  pass- 
able enough,  amongpagans,  for  a /i/// one.  But  we  Chris- 
tians are  taught  to  conceive  under  the  notion  of  God.  a 
necessary,  spiritual  Being,  in  which  Father.  Son,  and  Spirit 
do  so  necessarily  co-exist,  as  to  constitute  that  Being;  and 
e  P.  I3S.  of  these  ronsidcratioDs. 


142 


A  CALM  DISCOURSE  OF 


that  when  we  conceive  any  one  of  them  to  be  God,  that  is 
but  an  inadequate,  not  an  entire  and  full,  conception  of  the 
Godhead.  N.jF  will  any  place  remain  for  that  trivial  cavil, 
that  if  each  of  these  have  Godhead  in  him,  he  therefore 
hath  a  trinity  in  him  ;  but  that  he  is  one  of  the  three  who 
together  are  the  One  God,  by  necessary,  natural,  eternal 
union. 

Which  imion  is  also  quite  of  another  kind  than  that  of 
three  men  (as  for  instance,  of  Peter,  James,  and  John)  par- 
taking in  the  same  kind  of  nature ;  who,  notwithstanding, 
exist  separately,  and  apart  from  each  other.  These  three 
are  supposed  to  co-exist  in  natural,  necessary,  eternal,  and 
most  intimate  union,  so  as  to  be  one  Divine  Being. 

Nor  is  it  any  prejudice  against  our  thus  staling  the  no- 
lion  of  the  Godhead,  that  we  know  of  no  such  union  in  all 
the  creation,  that  may  assist  our  conception  of  this  union. 
What  incongruity  is  there  in  supposing,  in  this  respect,  as 
well  as  in  many  others,  somewhat  most  peculiarly  appro- 
priate to  the  being  of  God  1  If  there  be  no  such  actual 
union  in  the  creation,  'tis  enough  to  our  purpose,  if  such  a 
one  were  possible  to  have  been.  And  we  do  know  of  the 
actual  union  of  two  things  of  very  dilTerent  natures  so  as 
to  be  one  thing,  and  have  no  reason  to  think  the  union  of 
two  or  more  things  of  the  same  sort  of  nature,  with  suf- 
ficient remaining  distiaction,  less  possible  or  less  intel- 
ligible. 

XXI.  Upon  the  whole,  let  such  a  union  be  conceived 
in  the  being  of  God,  with  such  distinction,  and  one  would 
think  (though  the  complexions  of  men's  minds  do  strangely 
and  unaccountably  ditfer)  the  absolute  perfection  of  the 
Deity,  and  especially  the  perfect  felicity  thereof,  should  be 
much  the  more  apprehensible  with  us.  When  we  consider 
the  most  delicious  society  which  would  hence  ensue,  among 
the  so  entirely  consentient  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit,  with 
whom  there  is  so  perfect  rectitude,  everlasting  harmony, 
mutual  complacency,  unto  highest  delectation  ;  according 
to  our  way  of  conceiving  things,  who  are  taught  by  our 
own  nature  (which  also  hath  in  it  the  Divine  image)  to 
reckon  no  enjoyment  pleasant,  without  the  consociation  of 
some  other  with  us  therein ;  we  for  our  parts  cannot  but 
hereby  have  in  our  minds  a  more  gustful  idea  of  a  blessed 
state,  than  we  can  conceive  in  mere  eternal  solitude. 

God  speaks  to  us  as  men,  and  will  not  blame  us  for  con- 
ceiving things,  so  infinitely  above  us,  according  to  the 
capacity  of  our  natures ;  provided  we  do  not  assume  to 
ourselves  to  be  a  measure  for  our  conceptions  of  him, 
further  than  as  he  is  himself  pleased  to  warrant,  and  direct 
us  herein.  Some  likeness  we  may  (taught  by  himself) 
apprehend  between  him  and  us,  but  with  infinite  (not  in- 
equality only,  but)  unlikeness.  And  for  this  case  of  de- 
lectation in  society,  we  must  suppose  an  immense  diflerence 
between  him,  an  all-sufficient,  self-sufficient  Being,  com- 
prehending in  himself  the  infinite  fulness  of  whatsoever  is 
most  excellent  and  delectable,  and  ourselves,  who  have  in 
us  but  3  very  minute  portion  of  being,  goodness,  or  felicity, 
and  whom  he  hath  made  to  stand  much  in  need  of  one 
another,  and  most  of  all  of  him. 

But  when,  looking  into  ourselves,  we  find  there  is  in  us 
a  disposition,  often  upon  no  necessity,  but  sometimes  from 
some  sort  of  benignity  of  temper,  unto  conversation  with 
others ;  we  have  no  reason,  when  other  things  concur,  and 
do  fairly  induce,  and  lead  our  thoughts  this  way,  to  ap- 
prehend any  incongruity  in  supposing  he  may  have  some 
distinct  object  of  the  same  sort  of  propension  in  his  own 
most  perfect  being  too,  and  therewith  such  a  propension 
itself  also. 

XXII.  As  to  what  concerns  ourselves,  the  observation 
is  not  altogether  unapposite,  what  Cicero,  treating  of  friend- 
ship, discourses  of  perpetual  solitude,  "  that  the  affectation 
of  it  must  signify  the  worst  of  ill  humour,  and  the  most 
savage  nature  in  the  world.  And  supposing  one  of  so  sour 
and  morose  a  humour,  as  to  shun  and  hate  the  conversation 
of  men,  he  would  not  endure  it,  to  be  without  some  one 
or  other  to  whom  he  might  disgorge  the  virulency  of  that 
his  malignant  humour.  Or  that  supposing  such  a  thing 
30uld  happen,  that  God  should  take  a  man  quite  out  of 
the  society  of  men,  and  place  him  in  absolute  solitude, 
supplied  with  the  abundance  of  whatsoever  nature  could 


f  Prov.  viii.  g  Gi-n.  i. 

I  John  I.  m  Jolui  iii. 


h  Prov  viii. 
11  Juhn  X. 


i  I.sa.  ix. 
o  John  xxi. 


k  Mic.  V. 
p  Rom.  ix. 


covet  besides;  who,  saith  he,  is  so  made  of  iron,  as  to 
endure  that  kind  of  life"?"  And  he  introduces  Architas 
Tarentinus  reported  to  speak  to  this  purpose, — "  that  if 
one  could  ascend  into  heaven,  behold  the  frame  of  the 
world,  and  the  beauty  of  every  star,  his  admiration  would 
be  unpleasant  to  him  alone;  which  would  be  most  deli- 
cious, if  he  had  some  one  to  whom  to  express  his  sense  of 
the  whole." 

We  are  not,  I  say,  strictly  to  measure  God  by  our-elves 
in  this,  further  than  as  he  himself  prompts  and  leads  us. 
But  if  we  so  form  our  conception  of  Divine  bliss,  as  not 
to  exclude  from  it  somewhat,  whereof  that  delight  in  so- 
ciety which  we  find  in  ourselves  may  be  an  imperfect 
faint  resemblance ;  it  seems  not  altogether  disagreeable  to 
what  the  Scriptures  also  teach  us  to  conceive  concerning 
him,  when  they  bring  in  the  eternal  Wisdom,  saying,  as 
one  distinct  from  the  prime  Author  and  Parent  of  all 
things,f  Then  was  I  by  him,  as  one  brought  up  with  him, 
and  daily  his  delight. 

XXIII.  However,  let  the  whole  of  what  hath  been 
hitherto  proposed  be  taken  together,  and  to  me,  it  appears 
our  conception  of  the  sacred  trinunity  will  be  so  remote 
from  any  shadow  of  inconsistency  or  repugnancy,  that  no 
necessity  can  remain  upon  us  of  torturing  wit,  and  rack- 
ing invention  to  the  uttermost,  to  do  a  laboured  and  artifi- 
cial violence  (by  I  know  not  what  screws  and  engines)  to 
so  numerous  plain  texts  of  Scripture,  only  to  undeify  our 
glorious  Redeemer,  and  do  the  utmost  despite  to  the  Spirit 
of  grace.  We  may  he  content  to  let  the  word  of  God  (or 
what  we  pretend  to  own  for  a  Divine  revelation)  stand  as 
it  is,  and  undistorted  speak  its  own  sense.  And  when 
we  find  the?  Former  of  things  speaking  as  We  or  Us^, 
when  we  find  another  h  /,  possessed  by  the  Lord,  in  the 
beginning  of  his  way,  before  his  works  of  old ;  so  as  that 
he  says  of  himself  (as  distinct  from  the  other)  I  was  set 
up  from  everlasting,  from  the  beginning,  or  ever  the  earth 
was — and.  When  he  prepared  the  heavens  I  was  there,  &c. 
When  we  find  i  the  Child  born  for  us,  the  Son  given  to  us, 
called  also  the  mighty  God,  and  (as  in  reference  to  us  he 
fitly  might)  the  everlasting  Father.  When  we  are  told  ^  of 
the  Ruler  that  was  to  come  out  of  Bethlehem-Ephrata, 
that  his  goings  forth  were  from  everlasting :  that,  The 
Word  was  in  the  beginning  with  God,  and  was  God — i  that 
all  things  were  made  by  him,  and  without  him  nothing  was 
made  that  was  made — that  this  Word  was  made  flesh — 
that  his  glory  was  beheld  as  the  glory  of  the  only-begotten 
Son  of  the  Father,  full  of  grace  and  truth;  even  that 
same  he  that  above  was  said  to  have  been  in  the  beginning 
with  God,  and  to  be  God : — that  when  he  who  was  said  «> 
to  have  come  down  from  heaven,  was,  even  while  he  was 
on  earth,  at  that  time,  said  to  be  in  heaven : — that  we  are 
told  by  himself,"  he  and  his  Father  are  one  thing : — that 
he  is  not  only  saido  to  know  the  heart,  but  to  know  all 
things : — that  even  he  who  p  according  to  the  flesh  came  of 
the  Israelites,  is  yet  expressly  said  to  be  over  all,  God 
blessed  for  ever: — that  when  he  was"!  in  the  form  of  God, 
he  humbled  himself  to  the  taking  on  him  the  form  of  a 
servant,  and  to  be  found  in  fashion  as  a  man : — that  'tis 
said,'  all  things  were  created  by  him,  that  are  in  heaven, 
and  on  earth,  visible  and  invisible,  thrones,  dominions, 
principalities,  powers, — and  that  all  things  were  created 
by  him,  and  for  him ;  than  which  nothing  could  have  been 
said  more  peculiar  or  appropriate  to  Deity : — that  even  of 
the  Son  of  God  it  is  said,^  he  is  the  true  God  and  eternal 
life : — that  we  are  so  plainly  told,  heist  Alpha  and  Omega, 
the  first  and  the  last,"  he  that  was,  and  is,  and  is  to  come,* 
the  Lord  Almighty,  the  beginning  of  the  creation  of  God: 
the  searcher  of  hearts: — that  the  Spirit  of  God  is  said  y  to 
search  all  things,  even  the  deep  things  of  God : — that  lying 
to  him  is  said  ^  to  be  lying  to  God : — that  the  great  Chris- 
tian solemnity,  baptism,  is  directed  to  be  in  the  name  of 
the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost: — that  it  is  so  distinctly 
said,"^  there  are  three  that  bear  record  in  heaven,  the  Fa- 
ther, the  Word,  and  the  Spirit,  and  that  these  three  are 
one  thing. 

I  cannot  imagine  what  should  oblige  us  so  studiously  to 
wiredraw  all  this  to  quite  other  meanings. 

XXIV.  And  for  the  leaving  out  of  the  last  mentioned 


q  PMl  ii. 
X  Cliap.  iii. 


r  Col.  i.  8  1  John  v.  t  Rev.  i.  u  Chap.  ii. 

y  I  Cor.  ii.  z  AcU  v.  a  l  John  v. 


THE  TRINITY  IN  THE  GODHEAD. 


143 


text  in  some  copies,  what  hath  been  said  (not  to  mention 
divers  others)  hjMhe  famously  learned  Dr.  Hammond  upon 
that  place,  is  so  reasonable,  so  inod«i  ate,  so  charitable  to 
the  opposite  party,  and  so  apt  to  satisfy  impartial  and  un- 
prejudiced minds,  that  one  would  scarce  think,  after  the 
reading  of  it,  any  real  doubt  can  remain  concerning  the 
auiheniicness  of  that  7th  verse  in  1  John  v. 

Wherefore  now  taking  all  these  texts  together;  with 
many  more  that  might  have  been  mentioned,  1  must  indeed 
profess  to  wonder,  that  with  men  of  so  good  sense,  as  our 
Socinian  adversaries  are  accounted,  this  consideration 
should  not  have  more  place  and  weight,  That  it  being  so 
obvious  to  any  reader  of  ihe  Scriptures  to  apprehend  from 
so  numerous  texts,  that  Deity  must  belong  to  the  Son  of 
God,  and  that  there  wants  not  sufficient  inducement  to 
conceive  so  of  the  Holy  Ghost  also ;  there  should  be  no 
more  caution  given  in  the  Scriptures  themselves  to  prevent 
mistake  (if  there  were  any)  in  apprehending  the  matter  ac- 
cordingly: and  to  obviate  the  unspeakable  consequent 
danger  of  erring  in  a  case  of  so  vast  importance.  Ho\v 
unagreeable  it  is  to  all  our  notions  of  God,  and  to  his 
usual  procedure  in  cases  of  less  consequence !  How  little 
doth  it  consist  with  his  being  so  wise  and  so  compassion- 
ate a  lover  of  the  souls  of  men,  to  let  them  be  so  fatally 
exposed  unto  so  inevitable  and  so  destructive  a  delusion  ! 
that  the  whole  Christian  church  should  through  so  many 
centuries  of  years,  be  even  trained  into  so  horrid  and  con- 
tinued idolatry  by  himself  who  so  severely  forbids  it!  I 
cannot  allow  myself  to  think  men  of  that. persuasion  in- 
sincere in  their  professing  to  believe  the  divine  authority 
of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  when  the  leader  and  head  of  their 
party  wrote  a  book,  that  is  not  without  nerves,  in  defence 
of  it.  But  I  confess  I  cannot  devise,  with  what  design  they 
can  think  those  Scriptures  were  written  I  or  why  thej' 
should  count  it  a  thing  worthy  of  infinite  wisdom  to  vouch- 
safe such  a  revelation  to  men,  allowing  them  to  treat  and 
use  it  as  they  do!  And  that  till  some  great  Socinian  wits 
should  arise  fifteen  hundred  years  after,  to  rectifj'  their 
notions  in  these  things,  men  should  generally  be  in  so 
great  hazard  of  being  deceived  into  damnation  by  those 
very  Scriptures,  v/hich  were  professedly  writ  to  make  them 
wise  to  salvation ! 

XXV.  Nor  is  it  of  so  weighty  importance  in  this  contro- 
versy, to  cast  the  balance  the  other  way,  that  a  noted  critic 
(upon  what  introducement  needs  not  be  determined) 
changed  his  judgment,  or  that  his  posthumous  interpreta- 
tions of  some  texts  (if  they  were  his  interpretations)  carry 
an  appearance  of  his  having  changed  it ;  because  he 
thought  such  texts  might  possibl)^  admit  to  be  interpreted 
otherwise,  than  they  usually  were,  by  such  as  alleged  them 
for  the  trinity,  or  the  (disputed)  Deity  of  the  Son  or  Spirit, 
or  that  the  cause  must  be  lost,  upon  his  deserting  it.  or  that 
he  was  still  to  be  reckoned  of  the  opposite  party,  (as  this 
author  calls  it,)  and  that  such  texts  as  we  most  relied  upon, 
were  therefore  giv^en  up  by  some  of  our  own. 

And  it  is  really  a  great  assuming,  when  a  man  shall  ad- 
venture to  pronounce  so  peremptorily,  against  the  so 
common  judgment  of  the  Christian  church,  without  an}^ 
colour  of  proof,  that  our  copies  are  false  copies,  our  trans- 
lations, our  explications  false,  and  the  generality  of  the 
wisest,  the  most  inquisitive,  most  pious,  and  most  judicious 
assertors  of  the  Christian  cause,  for  so  many  continued  ages, 
fools,  or  cheats,  for  o'WTiing  and  avowing  them ;  for  no  other 
imaginable  reason,  but  only  because  they  make  against 
him !  How  will  he  prove  any  copies  we  rely  upon  to  be 
false  ?  Is  it  because  he  is  pleased  to  suspect  them  1  And 
is  an  interpretation  false,  because  the  words  can  possibly 
be  tortured  unto  some  other  sense  1  Let  him  name  me  the 
text,  wherein  any  doctrine  is  supposed  to  be  delivered  that 
is  of  merely  supernatural  revelation,  of  which  it  is  not  pos- 
sible to  devise  some  other  meaning,  nor  more  remote,  alien, 
or  unimaginable,  than  theirs,  of  most  of  the  disputed 
texts. 

Nor  indeed  do  we  need  to  expect  that  natural  sentiment 
in  itself,  that  there  is  but  one  God,  (which  this  author  takes 
such  pains  to  prove,  as  if  he  thought,  or  would  make  other 
men  think,  we  denied  it.)  For  though  it  is  so  generally  ac- 
knowledged, doth  he  not  know  it  is  not  so  generally  un- 
derstood in  the  same  sense  1  Against  whom  doth  he  write  1 
Doth  he  not  know  they  understand  this  oneness  in  one 


sense,  he  in  another  1  they  in  such  a  sense  as  admits  a 
triaily,  he  in  a  sense  that  excludes  if? 

But  (lor  such  things  as  did  need  a  superadded  verbal 
revelation)  how  easy  is  it  to  an  inventive,  pervicacious  wit, 
to  wrest  words  this  way,  or  that. 

XXVI.  The  Scriptures  were  writ  for  the  instruction  of 
sober  learners;  not  for  the  pastime  of  contentious  wits, 
that  affect  only  to  play  tricks  upon  them.  At  their  rate  of 
interpreting,  among  whom  he  ranks  himself,  'tis  impossible 
any  doctrine  can  with  certainly  be  founded  upon  them. 
Takeihefirstchapterof  St.  John's  Gospel,  for  instance,  and 
what  doctrine  can  be  asserted  in  plainer  words,  than  the 
Deity  of  Christ,  in  the  three  first  verses  of  that  chapter  ? 
Set  any  man  of  an  ordinary,  unprepossessed  undt^rsianding, 
to  read  them,  and  when  he  finds  that  by  the  Word  is  meant 
Jesus  Christ,  (which  themselves  admit,)  see  if  he  will  not 
judge  it  plainly  taught,  that  Jesus  Christ  is  God,  in  the 
most  eminent,  known  sense ;  especially  when  he  shall  take 
notice  of  so  many  other  texts,  that,  according  to  their  most 
obvious  appearance,  carry  the  same  sense.  But  it  is  first, 
through  mere  shortness  of  discourse,  taken  for  granted,  and 
rashly  concluded  on,  that  it  is  absolutely  impossible,  if  the 
Father  be  God,  the  Son  can  be  God  too,  (or  the  Holy 
Ghost,)  upon  a  presum.ption,  that  we  can  know  ever)-  thing 
that  belongs  to  the  Divine  nature ;  and  what  is  possible  to 
be  in  it,  and  what  not ;  and  next,  there  is  hereupon  not 
only  a  license  imagined,  but  an  obligation,  and  necessity, 
to  shake  heaven  and  earth,  or  tear  that  divine  word  that  is 
more  stable  into  a  thousand  pieces,  or  expound  it  tc 
nothing,  to  make  it  comply  with  that  forelaid  presumptu- 
ous determination.  Whereas  if  we  could  but  bend  our 
minds  so  far  to  comply  with  the  plain  duel u re  of  that  re- 
velation God  hath  made  unto  us  of  himself;  as  to  appre- 
hend that  in  the  most  only  Godhead  there  may  be  di.-^iinc- 
tions,  which  we  particularly  understand  not,  sufficient  to 
found  the  doctrine  of  a  trinity  therein,  and  very  consistent 
with  the  unity  of  it;  we  should  save  the  Divine  word, 
and  our  own  minds,  from  unjust  torture,  both  at  once.  And 
our  task,  herein,  will  be  the  easier,  that  we  are  neither  con- 
cerned nor  allowed  to  determine,  that  things  are  precisely 
so,  or  so;  but  only  to  suppose  it  possible  ihat  so  they  may 
be,  for  ought  that  we  know.  Which  will  I  am  certain  not 
be  so  hard  nor  so  bold  an  undertaking,  as  his,  who  shall 
take  upon  him  to  prove,  that  any  thing  here  supposed  is 
impossible. 

Indeed  if  any  one  would  run  the  discourse  into  the 
abyss  of  infinity,  he  may  soon  create  such  difficulties  to 
himself,  as  it  ought  not  "to  be  thousrht  strange,  if  they  be 
greater  than  any  human  understanding  can  expedite.  But 
not  greater  than  any  man  will  he  entangled  in,  that  shall 
set  himself  to  consider  infinity  upon  other  accounts :  which 
yet  he  will  find  it  imposed  upon  him  unavoidably  to  ad- 
mit, whether  he  will  or  no:  not  greater  than  this  author 
will  be  equally  concerned  in,  upon  his  doinsr  that  right  to 
truth,  in  opposition  to  the  former  leaders  of  his  own  party, 
as  to  acknowledge  the  omnipresence  of  the  Divine  essence, 
(p.  32.)  which  he  will  find,  let  him  try  it  when  he  will :  nor 
yet  so  great,  nor  accompanied  with  so  gross,  so  palpable 
and  horrid  absurdities,  as  he  will  soon  be  encountered 
with,  should  he  retract  his  grant,  or  entertain  the  monstrous- 
ly maimed,  and  most  deformed,  impious  conceit  of  a  finite, 
or  limited  Deity. 

XXVII.  Yet"  also  in  this  present  case,  the  impossibility 
to  our  narrow  minds  of  comprehending  infinity,  is  most 
rationallv  improveable  to  our  very  just  advaniaee.  It  ought 
to  be  upbraided  to  none  as  a  pretext,  or  a  coA'er  to  sloth, 
or  dulness,  'Tis  no  reproach  to  us  that  we  are  creatures, 
and  have  not  infinite  capacities.  And  it  ought  to  quiet 
our  minds,  that  they  may  so  certainly  know  they  have 
limits;  within  which,  we  are  to  content  ourselves  with  such 
notions,  about  indemonstrable  and  unrevealcd  things,  as 
they  can,  wiih  great  ease  to  themselves,  find  room  for, 

lean  reflect  upon  nothing  in  what  is  here  proposed,  but 
what  is  intelligible  without  much  toil,  or  much  metaphysics. 
As  matters,  of  so  common  concernment,  ought,  to  our 
uttermost,  to  be  represented  in  such  a  way  that  they  may 
be  so;  we  need  not  be  concerned  in  scholastic  di.-=quisi- 
tions  about  union  ;  or  by  what  peculiar  name  to  call  that 
which  is  here  supposed!  It's  enough  for  us  to  know  there 
niav  be  a  real,  natural,  vital,  and  very  intimate  union,  of 


144 


A  CALM  DISCOURSE  OF 


things  that  shall,  notwithstanding  it,  continue  distinct,  and 
that  shall,  by  it,  be  truly  one.  Nor  do  we  need  to  be  anx- 
iously curioua  in  stating  ihe  notions  oi person  ox  personality, 
of  suppositum  and  siuppositality,  though  I  tliink  not  the 
term  person  disallowable  in  the  present  case.  Nor  will  I 
say  what  that  noted  man  (so  noted  that  I  need  not  name 
him,  and  who  was  as  much  acquainted  with  metaphysics 
as  most  in  his  age)  published  to  the  world  above  twenty 
years  ago,  that  he  counted  the  notion  of  the  schools  about 
suppositum  a  foolery.  For  I  do  well  know,  the  thing  itself, 
which  our  Christian  metaphysicians  intended,  to  be  of  no 
small  importance  in  our  religion,  and  especially  to  the 
doctrine  of  redemption,  and  of  our  Redeemer. 

XXVIII.  But  I  reckon  they  that  go  the  more  metaphy- 
sical way,  and  content  themselves  with  the  modal  distinc- 
tion of  three  persons  in  the  Godhead,  say  nothing  herein 
that  can  be  proved  absurd  or  contradictious.  As  to  what 
is  commonly  urged,  that  if  there  be  three  persons  in  the 
Deity,  each  pers'":.  must  have  ilsAisXmcl  individual  essence, 
as  well  as  its  distinct  personality,  I  would  deny  the  conse- 
quence, and  say,  that  though  this  be  true  in  created  per- 
sons (taking  person  in  the  strict  metaphysical  sense)  it  is 
not  necessary  to  be  so  in  uncreated :  that  the  reason  is  not 
the  same  between  finite  things  and  infinite ;  and  would 
put  them  to  prove,  if  they  can,  that  the  same  infinite  essence 
cannot  be  whole  and  undivided  in  three  several  persons ; 
knowing  there  can  be  nothing  more  difiicult  urged  in  the 
case,  than  may  against  the  Divine  omnipresence ;  which 
irrefragable  reasons,  as  well  as  the  plainest  testimony  of 
Scripture,  will  oblige  us  to  acknowledge. 

But  I  think,  though  this  hypothesis,  abstractedly  con- 
sidered, and  by  itself,  is  not  indefensible,  it  doth  not  alto- 
gether so  well  square  with  the  Christian  economy,  nor  so 
easily  allow  that  distinction  to  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy 
Spirit,  which  seems  requisite  to  found  the  distinct  attribu- 
tions that  ate  severally  given  them  in  the  Holy  Scriptures. 

XXIX.  To  conclude,  I  only  wish  these  things  might  be 
considered,  and  discoursed  with  less  confidence,  and  pe- 
remptory determination ;  with  a  greater  awe  of  what  is 
divine  and  sacred;  and  that  we  may  more  confine  our- 
selves to  the  plain  words  of  Scripture  in  this  matter,  and 
be  content  therewith.  I  generally  blame  it  in  the  Socini- 
ans,  (who  appear  otherwise  rational  and  considering  men,) 
that  they  seem  to  have  formed  'heir  belief  of  things,  not 
■possible  to  be  known  but  by  the  Scriptures,  without  them ; 
and  then  think  they  are  by  all  imaginable  arts,  and  they 
care  not  what  violence,  (as  Socinus  himself  hath  in  effect 
confessed,)  to  mould  and  "orm  them  according  to  their 
preconceived  sense.  Common  modesty,  and  civility,  one 
would  have  thought,  should  have  made  Schlictingius  ab- 
stain from  prefixing,  and  continuing  that  as  a  running  title 
to  a  long  chapter :  Articulus  Eva.ngelicorum  de  Trinitate 
ium  sensu  communi  piignat ;  engrossing  common  sense  to 
himself  and  his  party,  and  reproaching  the  generality  of 
Christians,  as  not  understanding  common  sense.  They 
should  take  upon  them  less,  and  not  vaunt,  as  if  they  were 
the  men,  and  wisdom  must  die  with  them. 

For  this  author,  I  congratulate  his  nearer  approach  to  us, 
from  those  who  were  formerly^  leaders  of  his  party,  in  the 
doctrines  of  God's  omnipresence,  and  the  perceptiveness 
and  activity  of  separate  souls.  He  writes  with  sprightliness 
^/nd  vigour,  and,  I  doubt  not,  believes  really,  what  he 
writes  with  so  little  seeming  doubt.  And  because  his 
spirit  appears  to  be  of  a  more  generous,  exalted  pitch,  t^an 
to  comport  with  any  thing  against  his  judgment,  for  secu- 
Ar  interest  and  advantage,  I  reckon  it  the  greater  pity  it 
should  want  the  addition  of  what  would  be  very  orna- 
mental to  it,  and  which  he  wishes  to  two  of  the  persons, 
to  whom  he  makes  himself  an  antagonist,  more  of  the  ten- 
derness and  catholic  charity  of  genuine  Christianity,  (p.  19. 
col.  2.)  to  accompany  those  his  abilities  and  learnicg, 
which  would  not  thereby  be  the  lesser  (as  he  speaks)  nor 
the  less  conspicuous. 

I  believe  few  would  have  thougi^:  «'Jt^  to  see  the  less 
clearly,  if  he  had  been  content  to  see  for  himself,  not  for 
mankind.  And  if  he  had  not  talked  at  that  rate,  as  if  he 
carried  the  eyes  of  all  the  world  in  his  pocket,  they  would 
have  been  less  apt  to  think  he  carried  his  own  there.  Nor 
had  his  performance,  in  this  writing  of  his,  lost  any  thing 
of  real  value,  if  in  a  discourse  upon  so  grave  a  subject, 


some  lepidities  had  been  left  out,  as  that  ol  Duhi^inea  del 
Toboso,  tf'C. 

And  to  allude  to  what  he  says  of  Dr.  Cudworth,  his 
displeasure  will  not  hurt  so  rough  an  author  as  Arnobius, 
so  many  ages  after  he  is  dead,  if  he  should  happen  to 
ofl^end  him,  by  having  once  said,  Dissoluti — est  pectoris  in 
rebus  seriis  quarere  voluptatcm — <f'C. 

But  for  all  of  us,  I  hope  we  may  say  without  offence  to 
any,  common  human  frailty  should  be  more  considered, 
and  that  we  know  but  in  part,  and  in  how  small  a  part ! 
We  should,  hereupon,  be  more  equal  to  one  another.  And 
when  it  is  obvious  to  every  one,  how  we  are  strained  in 
this  matter,  and  that  we  ought  to  suppose  one  another  in- 
tently aiming  to  reconcile  the  Scripture  discovery  with 
natural  sentimentt,  should  not  uncharitably  censure,  or 
labour  to  expose  tint  another,  that  any  seem  more  satisfied 
with  their  own  method  than  with  ours.  What  an  odd  and 
almost  ludicrous  spectacle  do  we  give  to  the  blessed  angels 
that  supervi.se  us,  (if  their  benignity  did  not  more  prompt 
them  to  compassion,)  when  they  behold  us  fighting  in  the 
dark,  about  things  we  so  little  understand ;  or,  when  we 
all  labour  under  a  gradual  blindness,  objecting  it  to  one 
another,  and  one  accusing  another,  that  he  abandons  not 
his  own  too  weak  sight,  to  see  only  by  his  (perhaps)  blinder 
eye. 

Thus,  Sir,  you  have  my  sense  what  I  think  safe  and 
enough  to  be  said  in  this  weighty  matter.  To  you,  these 
thoughts  are  not  new,  with  whom  they  have  been  commu- 
nicated and  discoursed  heretofore,  long  ago.  And  I  be- 
lieve you  may  so  far  recollect  yourself,  as  to  remember  the 
principal  ground  was  suggested  to  you,  upon  which  this 
discourse  now  rests, — viz.  necessity  of  existence,  and  con- 
tingency ;  emanations  absolutely  independent  upon  any 
will  at  all,  and  the  arbitrary  productions  of  the  Divine 
will, — as  the  sutficient  and  most  fundamental  difference 
between  what  is  uncreated  and  what  is  created;  ar.d  upon 
this  very  account,  as  that  which  might  give  scope  and 
room  to  our  thoughts,  to  conceive  the  doctrine  of  the 
trinity,  consistently  with  the  unity  of  the  Godhead  ;  and 
so,  as  that  the  Son,  though  truly  from  the  Father,  and  the 
Holy  Ghost,  though  truly  from  both,  shall  yet  appear  infi- 
nitely distinguished  from  all  created  beings  whatsoever. 

So  much  you  know  was  under  consideration  with  us  above 
twenty  years  ago;  and  was  afterwards  imparted  tamany 
more  ;  long  before  there  was  any  mention  or  forethought, 
within  our  notice,  of  such  a  revival  of  former  controver- 
sies, upon  this  subject,  a^  —e  have  lately  seen. 

This  occasion,  now  given,  ...th  put  me  upon  revolving 
anew  these  former  thoughts;  and  upon  digesting  them 
into  some  order,  such  as  it  is,  for  public  view.  If  they 
shall  prove  to  be  of  any  use,  it  appears  they  will  not  be 
out  of  .season ;  and  it  will  be  grateful  to  me  to  be  any  way 
serviceable  to  so  worthy  a  cause.  If  they  should  be  found 
altogether  useless,  being  evicted  either  of  impertinency, 
or  untruth,  I'  shall  not  be  ungrateful ;  for  I  thank  God,  I 
find  not  a  disposition  in  my  mind  to  be  fond  of  any  notions 
of  mine,  as  they  are  such  ;  nor  to  be  more  adventurous,  or 
confident,  in  determining  of  things  hid,  not  only  in  so  pro- 
founii,  'c-jLi  in  most  sacred  darkness,  than  I  have  all  along 
expressed  myself.  I  ought  indeed  to  be  the  more  cautious 
of  offending'  in  this  kind,  that  being  the  thing  I  blame, 
the  positive  asserting  this  or  that  to  be  impossible,  or  not 
possibly  competent,  to  the  nature  of  God,  which  by  his  own 
word,  or  the  manifest  reason  of  things,  doth  not  plainly 
appear  to  be  so:  much  more  which  his  vord  doth,  as 
plainly  as  it  is  possible  any  thing  can  be  expressed  by 
word*-,  ascribe  to  him.  The  only  thing  I  assert  is,  that,  a 
trinity  in  me  Godhead  may  be  possible,  for  ought  we  know, 
in  f.-«e  way  that  I  have  proposed  :  at  least  it  is  so,  for  any 
thing  that  I  do  as  yet  know.  And  so  confident  I  am  of 
the  trurn,  and  true  meaning  of  his  word,  reveanng  a  trinity 
in  his  t-iernal  Godhead,  that  I  strongly  hope,  if  ever  it  shall 
be  pioved  to  be  impossible  upon  these  terms  that  I  have 
here  set  down,  by  the  same,  or  by  equal  light,  the  possi- 
bility of  it  some  other  wa)"^  will  appear  too;  i.  e.  that  not 
only  a  trinity  in  the  unity  of  the  Godhead  is  a  possible 
thing,  but  that  it  is  also  possible  that  the  Father,  Son,  and 
Holy  Ghost  may  be  sufficiently  distinguished  to  answer 
the  frame  and  design  of  Christianity :  and  that  will  equally 
serve  niv  nnrT\n<ifi      Vnr  <:o  however,  will  lue  scandal  be 


II 


THE  TRINITY  IN  THE  GODHEAD. 


145 


removed,  that  may  seen,  to  lie  upon  our  holy  religion, 
through  the  industrious  misrepresentation  which  is  made 
of  it,  by  sceptics,  deists,  or  atheists,  as  if  it  were  made 
up  of  inconsistencies  and  absurdities,  and  were  fitter 
to  be  entertained  with  laughter  than  faith:  and  being 
pffertually  vindicated,  it  will  be  the  more  successfully 


propagated,  and  more  cheerfully  practised :   which  is  ; 
that  is  coveted  and  sought  by, 
Sir, 

Your  very  respectful, 

himible  servant,  &c. 


POSTSCRIPT. 


Having  the  copies  of  some  letters  by  me,  which  I  wrote 
to  Dr.  Wallis  between  two  and  three  years  ago,  upon  this 
subject ;  I  think,  Sir,  it  is  not  improper,  and  perhaps  it 
may  be  some  way  useful,  to  let  them  accompany  this  to 
yourself.  And  here  I  shall  freely  tell  you  my  principal 
inducements  (taking  notice  in  some  of  the  Doctor's  printed 
letters  of  others  to  him,  contained  in  them)  to  send  him  iii- 
cognito  one  also;  but  with  that  reason  against  printing  it, 
which  you  find  towards  the  end  of  the  first  letter. 

It  was  rarely  the  apprehension,  which  had  long  remained 
with  me,  that  the  simplicity,  Avhich  (if  the  notion  of  it  were 
stretched  too  far)  not  the  Scriptures,  but  the  schools,  have 
taught  us  to  ascribe  to  the  being  of  God,  was  that  alone 
which  hath  given  us  difficulty,  in  conceiving  a  trinity  in 
the  only  one  God. 

It  is  not  the  unity  or  oncliness  of  the  Godhead,  but  the 
simplicity  of  it,  as  the  school-men  have  stated  it,  that  hath 
created  the  matter  of  dispute.  Unity,  you  know,  denies 
more  of  the  same;  simplicity  denies  more  in  it.  Concern- 
ing the  former,  that  there  could  be  no  more  gods  that  one, 
we  are  at  a  point ;  the  reason  of  the  thing  itself,  and  the 
Holy  Scriptures  so  expressly  asserting  it,  leave  it  out  of 
dispute. 

AH  the  doubt  is  about  the  latter.  Not  whether  such  a 
ihing  belong  to  the  nature  of  God ;  but  concerning  ihe 
just  explication  of  it.  As  it  is  a  real  excellency,  not  a 
blemish  ;  and  not  merely  a  moral,  but  a  natural  excellency, 
there  can  be  no  doubt  of  its  belonging  to  the  Divine  nature; 
but  if  you  understand  it  as  exclusive  of  all  variety  therein, 
Vou  find  not  any  express  mention  of  such  an  attribute  of 
God  in  the  Scriptures.  They  are  silent  in  the  matter.  It 
\iath  no  authority,  but  of  the  schools.  That  and  the  reason 
that  can  be  brought  for  it  must  give  it  its  whole  and  only 
support.  It  is  the  only  thing  that  must  open,  and  give  way, 
to  admit  the  doctrine  of  the  trinity ;  and  it  is  the  only  thing 
\hat  needs  to  do  so.  For  we  none  of  us  assert  a  trinity  of 
Gods;  but  a  trinity  in  the  Godhead.  It  is  the  only  thing  that 
can  to  the  adversaries  of  the  trinity,  with  any  colourable  pre- 
tence, seem  opposite  to  it.  And  which  therefore  I  thought 
the  only  thing  that  remained  to  be  sifted  and  examined, 
.f  they  will  state  it  in  opposition  thereto.  And  consider, 
what  so  mighty  and  invincible  strength  of  reason  it  had, 
whence  alone  either  to  shock  the  authority,  or  prevent  the 
Tjlain  meaning,  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  discompose  the 
^fhole  frame  of  Christian  religion,  disturb  the  peace  of  the 
church,  perplex  very  thinkmg  minds,  subvert  the  faith  of 
some,  and  turn  it  into  ridicule  with  too  many. 

I  reckoned  the  Dr.  (as  I  still  do,  notwithstanding  the 
contempt  this  author  hath  of  him)  a  parson  of  a  very  clear, 
unmuddied  understanding.     I  found  him,  by  what  he  cx- 

Eressed  in  his  first  letter  of  the  trinity,  not  apt  to  be  awed 
y  the  authority  of  the  schools,  nor  any  bigot  to  them,  as 
having  declined  their  notion  of  a  person,  and  fixing  upon 
another,  (less  answering,  as  I  apprehend,  the  scheme  and 
design  of  Christianity,)  I  thought  it  easy,  and  reputable 
enough  to  him  to  add,  wliat  might  be  requisite  in  this 
matter,  without  contradicting  (directly  or  discernibly)any 
thing  he  had  said.  I  gave  him  the  opportunity  of  doing 
it,  as  from  himself,  without  seeming  to  have  the  least  thing 
to  that  purpose  .suggested  to  him  by  any  other.  I  had 
myself,  I  think,  seen  and  considered  the  main  strength  of 


the  schoolmen's  reasonings  concerning  that  simpliutti, 
which  they  will  have  to  be  divine ;  and,  for  ought  I  do 
yet  know,  have  competently  occurred  to  it  in  this  fore- 
going letter,  and  partly  in  what  you  will  now  find  I  wrote 
to  him.  But  what  there  is  of  real  infirmity,  or  imperti- 
nency  to  this  case  (as  it  is,  and  ought  to  be  represented)  in 
their  arguings,  I  reckoned  he  would  both  see  and  evince 
more  clearly  than  I. 

Therefore  I  greatly  desired  to  have  engaged  him  upon 
this  point;  but  I  could  not  prevail.  And  am  therefore  will- 
ing that  what  I  writ  then  with  design  of  the  greatest  pri- 
vacy, should  now  become  public.  Not  thai  I  think  it  hath  so 
great  value  in  itself;  but  that  perhaps  it  may  further  serve  to 
excitesome  others  more  able  and  more  at  leisure  tosearch 
and  inquire  into  this  matter ;  and  either  to  improve  or 
disprove  what  I  have  essayed.  And  which  of  the  two  it 
is,  'tis  all  one  to  me ;  for  I  have  no  interest  or  design,  but 
that  of  truth,  and  the  service  of  the  Christian  cause. 

I  was  so  little  apprehensive  of  any  such  future  use  to 
be  made  of  these  letters,  that  I  kept  no  account  of  the  dates, 
except  that  one  of  the  two  latter  (which  both  only  refer  to 
the  first)  I  find,  by  the  copy  I  have  in  my  hands,  to  have 
been  sent  December  19th,  1()9I.  I  remember  it  was  a 
long  time,  and  guess  it  might  be  six  or  eight  weeks  ere  I 
heard  any  thing  of  the  first,  after  I  had  sent  it.  Probably 
it  might  have  been  sent  in  October,  or  the  beginning  ol 
November,  before.  I  at  length  heard  of  it  very  casuall)', 
being  in  a  house  in  London,  whither  the  Doctor's  eighth 
letter  was  newly  arrived  (then  no  secret)  in  order  to  im- 
pression. I  then  found  this  ray  first  letter  was  lightly 
touched,  but  mistaken;  which  occa.sioned  (it  being  a  post 
night)  my  second.  That  was  followed  by  the  third,  the  next 
post  after,  when  I  had  a  little  more  time  wherein  to  express 
my  mind,  though  I  still  concealed  my  name,  as  it  is  yet 
fittest  to  do,  my  main  business  in  my  letter  to  you  lying 
with  a  person,  who  (blamelessly  enough)  conceals  his. 

These  two  latter  of  my  letters  to  the  Dr.  produced  some 
alteration  in  that  paragraph  of  his  eighth  letter,  which  re- 
lates to  my  first.  But  yet  no  wav  answering:  the  design  for 
which  I  writ  it.  You  have  them  noAv  together  exactlv  ac- 
cording to  the  copies  I  have  by  me,  excepting  one  or  two 
circumstantial  things  fitly  enough  left  out,  or  somewhat 
altered.  And  they  had  all  slept  long  enough,  if  this  occa- 
sion had  not  brotight  them  to  light. 

But  before  I  give  them  to  you,  let  me  suggest  some 
things  further  to  you  concerning  the  foregoing  letter  to 
yourself  You  may  apprehend  that  some  will  think  it 
strange  (if  not  an  inconsistency)  that  I  should  suppose  it 
possible  an  absolute  omnimodous  simplicity  may  not  be- 
long to  the  Divine  Being,  when  yet  I  absolutely  deny  all 
composition  in  it. 

And  I  apprehend  too  .some  may  think  so,  at  least  awhile; 
but  such  as  have  considered  well,  will  not  think  so,  and 
such  as  shall.  I  presume  will  not  long.     For, 

1.  If  I  had  denied  the  simplicity  of  the  Divine  nature, 
had  the  inference  been  just,  that  therefore  I  must  grant  a 
composition  ?  How  many  instances  mi?ht  be  given  of  one 
opposite  not  agreeing  to  this  or  that  thing,  when  also  the 
other  doth  as  little  agree!  And  moj^i  of  all  doth  the  tran-' 
scendent  excellency  of  the  Divine  nature  exempt  it  from 
the  limiting  by  partitions  to  which  creatures  are  subject. 


140 


A  CALM  DISCOURSE  OP 


Take  reason  in  the  proper  sense  for  arriving  gradually  by 
arguinentaliun  I'rcm  the  Knowledge  of  more  evident,  to  the 
knowledge  of  obscurer  things,  and  so  we  cannot  say  the 
Divine  nature  is  rational.  But  is  it  therefore  to  be  called 
irrational.  Faith  and  hope  agree  not  to  it.  Are  we  there- 
fore to  think  infidelity  or  despair  do  not  disagree  ■? 

It  is  indeed  more  generally  apprehended,  we  can  scarce 
have  the  notion  of  any  thing  that  strictly,  or  otherwise  than 
by  some  very  defective  analogy,  agrees  to  him,  and  to  us. 
Some  pagans,  and  some  Christians  from  them,  (not  in  de- 
rogation, but)  in  great  reverence  to  the  high  excellency 
of  the  Deity,  not  excepting  the  most  common  notion  of 
all  other,  even  that  of  being  itself,  make  his  being  and  sub- 
stance to  be  superessential,  and  supersubstantial.  'Tis  out 
of  doubt  that  whatsoever  perfection  is  in  us,  is  not  the 
same  thing  in  him  formally,  but  in  an  unconceivable  tran- 
scendent eminency  only.  Do  therefore  their  contraries 
agree  to  him  1 

2.  I  am  far  from  denying  the  simplicity  of  the  blessed 
nature  of  God,  which  1  ascribe  to  him  in  the  highest  per- 
fection which  it  is  capable  of  signifying.  I  most  peremp- 
torily affirm  not  only  all  the  simplicity  which  he  expressly 
affirms  of  himself;  but  all  that  can  by  just  consequence  be 
inferred  from  any  affirmation  of  his ;  or  that  can  by  plain 
reason  be  evinced  any  other  way.  Whatsoever  is  any  real 
perfection,  &c.  Sect.  XI. 

'Tis  true,  while  I  affirm  such  a  simplicity  as  excludes  all 
composition,  in  the  sense  already  given,  I  affirm  not  such 
as  excludes  all  variety:  not  such  as  excludes  a  trinity, 
which  he  so  plainly  affirms,  and  with  such  distinction,  as 
his  affirmations  concerning  it  imply,  and  make  requisite. 

I  further  judge,  that  though  the  Scriptures  do  not  ex- 
pressly ascribe  simplicity  to  the  being  of  God,  as  a  natural 
excellency,  they  say  that  which  implies  it,  as  such,  to  be- 
long to  him;  as  when  Ihey  bring  him  in  saying  of  himself, 
"I  am  what  I  am."  This  must  imply  his  nature  to  ex- 
clude every  thing  that  is  alien  from  itself.  I  take  it,  as  it 
signifies  (besides  a  moral)  a  mere  natural  excellency,  to 
import  a  most  perfect  purity  of  essence.  And  I  under- 
stand that  to  be  purum,  which  is  plenuvi  stti,  and  qnod 
nihil  habct  allcni.  I  do  therefore  take  the  natural  simpli- 
city of  the  Divine  Being  to  exclude  the  ingrediency  of  any 
thing  that  can  infer  in  it  conflict,  decay,  chance,  dis- 
turbance, or  infelicity  in  the  least  degree ;  and  to  include 
whatsoever  infers  the  contraries  of  all  these ;  serenity,  tran- 
quillity, harmony,  stability,  delight,  and  joy,  in  highest 
perfection;  as  necessity  of  existence  also  doth;  and  that 
for  all  this,  it  by  no  means  needs  to  exclude  a  trinity,  but 
to  include  it  rather. 

But  I  judge  human  (and  even  all  created)  minds  very 
incompetent  judges  of  the  Divine  simplicity.  We  Imow  not 
what  the  Divine  nature  may  include  consistently  with  its 
own  perfection,  not  what  it  must,  as  necessary  thereto. 
Our  eye  is  no  judge  of  corporeal  simplicity.  In  darkness 
it  discerns  nothing  but  simplicity,  without  distinction  of 
things  :  in  more  dusky  light  the  whole  horizon  appears 
most  simple,  and  every  where  like  itself:  in  brighter  light, 
we  perceive  great  varieties,  and  much  greater  if  a  micro- 
scope assist  our  eye.  But  o-f  all  the  aerial  people  that  re- 
plenish the  region  (expect  rare  appearances  to  very  few) 
we  see  none.     Here  want  not  objects,  but  a  finer  eye. 

'Tis  much  at  this  rate  with  our  minds  in  beholding  the 
spiritual  sphere  of  beings,  most  of  all  the  uncreated,  which 
is  remotest,  and  furthest  above,  out  of  our  sight.  We  be- 
hold simplicity!  and  what  do  we  make  of  that"?  vast  un- 
distinguished vacuity !  sad,  immense  solitude  !  only  this 
at  first  view.  If  we  draw  nearer,  and  fix  our  eye,  we  think 
we  apprehend  somewhat,  but  dubiously  hallucinate,  as  the 
half-cured  blind  man  did,  when  he  thought  he  saw  men 
like  trees. 

But  if  a  voice  which  we  acknowledge  Divine,  speak  to 
us  out  of  the  profound  abyss,  and  tell  us  of  grateful  varie- 
ties and  distinctions  in  it;  Good  God!  shall  we  not  be- 
lieve it  1  Or  shall  we  say  we  clearly  see  that  is  not,  which 
onhjiee  do  not  see"?  This  seems  like  somewhat  worse  than 
bliridness ! 

Now  follow  the  Letters. 


LETTERS  TO  DR.  WALLIS. 
SENT  IN  1G9L 


LETTER  I. 


Sir, 


I  COULD  much  please  myself  in  revolving  in  my  own 
own  mind  the  very  respectful  thoughts  and  veneration  I 
have  long  had  for  you,  and  in  conversing  with  the  grate- 
ful and  entertaining  idea  which  I  have  not  arbitrarily,  but 
by  your  irresistible  imposition,  received,  and  retained  of 
you  many  years,  on  the  account  of  your  former  most  use- 
ful and  acceptable  performances,  and  which  is  both  re- 
newed and  heightened  greatly  by  your  late  clear,  prudent, 
and  piously  modest  discourses,  (both  letters  and  sermons,) 
of  that  awful  mystery,  the  trinity  in  the  Godhead.  Butas 
I  can  neither  satisfy  myself  of  the  fitness  of  making  an 
encomium  of  you  the  matter  of  a  letter  to  yourself;  so  nor 
can  I  hope  to  please  you  by  doing  a  thing  in  itself  so  inept, 
and  so  insignificant  to  you.  I  shall  better  do  both,  if  I 
shall  offer  any  thing  to  you  concerning  this  mentioned 
subject,  your  further  consideration  whereof  may  prove  a 
further  benefit  to  the  world. 

In  what  you  have  already  said  concerning  it,  you  have 
used  that  great  caution,  and  so  well  guarded  yourself,  as 
not,  so  far  as  I  can  apprehend,  to  give  an  adversary,  in 
this  single  point,  the  least  advantage.  That  which  I  would 
in  the  general  humbly  offer,  is,  whether  you  have  said  so 
much  as  with  safely  might  be  said,  and  as  the  case  may 
require,  for  the  gaining  of  a  just  advantage  to  the  common 
Christian  cause. 

We  design,  in  fight,  not  only  to  keep  ourselves  safe,  but 
to  overcome  ;  and  not  in  frcclio  only,  but  in  bello.  In  wars 
indeed  of  this  sort,  both  our  own  safety  and  victory  are 
less  to  be  valued  than  truth.  Which,  being  of  a  piece,  can 
be  injured  in  no  part,  without  some  damage  to  the  whole 
frame  of  congenerous  truth.  And  as  it  is  very  possible, 
while  an  enemy  is  withstood  attacking  some  one  fort,  a 
greater  loss  may  not  be  provided  against  elsewhere ;  it  may 
so  fall  out  in  affaiis  of  this  kind  too,  that  the  care  of  de- 
fending some  one  truth  may  be  accompanied  with  a  pre- 
sent not  attending  to  the  jeopardy  of  divers  others.  The 
nearer  we  approach  an  adversary  (within  just  limits)  in 
these  rational  decerlations,  the  less  he  can  have  to  say 
against  us.  But  being  well  resolved  ourselves  about  the 
main  point  of  disagreement,  we  then  take  care  not  to 
come  so  near,  as  to  fall  in  with  him,  pass  into  his  tents, 
and  give  away  our  main  cause. 

I  am,  worthiest  Sir,  far  from  assuming  so  much  to 
myself,  or  detracting  so  much  from  you,  as  to  give  a  judg- 
ment that  this  really  is  done  in  your  discourses  about  the 
trinity.  I  only  submit  to  your  own  most  penetrating  judg- 
ment, what  may  be  further  requisite  and  possible  in  this 
matter,  to  take  away  any  appearances  hereof,  and  prevent 
ill  consequences  that  may  too  easily  ensue.  I  have,  for 
my  own  part,  long  imposed  it  upon  myself  to  abstain  from 
any  positive  conceptions  concerning  the  Godhead,  beyond 
what  I  find  expressly  contained  in  the  divine  revelation, 
or  what  the  rea.son  of  things,  either  antecedently  thereto, 
or  consequentially  thereupon,  doth  most  evidently  per- 
suade and  require ;  and  do  greatly  approve  the  same  cau- 
tion, which  I  cannot  but  observe  with  you  :  but  desire  it 
may  be  weighed  whether  such  measures  may  not  and  must 
not  lead  us  further. 

As  for  the  word  person,  you  prudently  profess  not  to  be 
fond  of  it,  the  thing  being  agreed,  though  you  also  truly 
judge  it  a  good  word,  and  sufficiently  warranted.  For  the 
notion  signified  by  it,  you  all  along  seem  to  decline  that  of 
the  schools,  or  the  metaphysical  one,  which,  you  know, 
makes  it  to  be  a  rational,  or  intelligent,  svppositttm ;  and 
to  take  up  with  (what  I  think  I  may,  wanting  a  fitter,  i.  e. 
a  more  comprehensive  word,  call)  the  civil  notion  of  it ; 
which  will  allow  the  same  man  to  be  capable  of  sustain- 
ing three  or  more  persons,  supposing  his  circumstances  or 
qualifications  to  be  such  or  such,  as  lo  that  purpose  you 
speak  both  in  your  letters  and  sermons. 


THE  TRINITY  IN  THE  GODHEAD. 


147 


Nowwhereas  you  have  also  told  us,  Letter  1.  that  hy  per- 
sonality you  mean  that  distinction  (whatever  it  be)  by  which 
the  three  persons  are  distinguished  from  each  other;  that 
which,  with  great  submission,  and  most  profound  respect 
to  you,  I  propose  to  your  further  consideration,  will  be  ca- 
pable of  being  resolved  into  these  two  inquiries 

1.  Whether  only  such  a  distinction  of  the  Divine  per- 
sons, as  this  amounts  to,  will  be  sufficient  to  found  the  se- 
veral atlvibutions  which  the  Holy  Scriptures  give  distinct- 
ly and  severally  to  them,  and  to  preserve  the  scheme  of 
Christian  religion  entire,  which  is  wont  to  be  deduced 
from  these  sacred  writings. 

II.  Whether  some  further  distinction  may  not  be  ad- 
mitted as  possible,  consistently  wiih  the  solved  unity  of 
the  Godhead. 

As  to  the  former,  1.  Whereas,  you  think  the  word  per- 
son to  be  a  good  word,  and  sufficiently  warranted  by  Scrip- 
ture, Heb.  i.  3.  where  the  son  is  called  the  express  image 
of  his  Father's  person  ;  alleging  that  so  we  render  the  word 
hi/postasis  which  is  there  used,  and  do  mean  by  it  what  you 
think  to  be  there  meant ;  I  desire  you  vvoitld  please  to  con- 
sider whether  the  word  hypnsfasis,  according  to  the  com- 
mon use  of  it,  will  admit  to  be  so  taken,  as  you  explain 
yourself  to  mean  by  the  word  person.  For  though  the 
Latin  word  persona,  as  you  say,  according  to  the  true  and 
ancient  sense,  may  well  enough  admit  to  be  so  taken,  as 
that  the  same  man  might  sustain  three  persons,  I  offer  it  to 
your  re-consideration,  whether  ever  you  have  observed 
the  word  hypostasis,  in  any  sort  of  authors,  when  it  signi- 
fies any  person  at  all,  (for  1  know  that  it  frequently  signi- 
fies somewhat  else  than  aperson.)  to  be  taken  in  that  sense. 
And  whether  one  hypostasis  so  taken  as  it  uses  to  be  when 
it  signifies  aperson,  may  not  be  capable  of  susiaining  three 
of  those  persons  which  you  here  describe.  And  whether, 
according  to  this  sense,  you  mean  not  God  to  be  only  one 
such  hypostasis. 

2.  Be  pleased  further  hereupon  to  consider  how  well  it 
agrees  with  this  supposition  of  God's  being  but  one  hypos- 
tasis or  intelligent  suppcsitum.,  so  frequently  to  speak,  as 
the  Holy  Scriptures  do,  of  the  Father,  Son  or  Word,  the 
Spirit  or  Holy  Ghost,  as  three  distinct  I's  or  He's.  The 
Lord  possessed  me  (as  the  Divine  Word  or  Wisdom  is 
brought  in  speaking)  in  the  beginning  of  liis  way — I  was 
set  up  from  everlasting,  Prov.  viii.  22,  23.  When  he  pre- 
pared the  heavens  I  w-as  there,  ver.  27. Then  was  I 

by  him,  ver.  30,  &c.  The  Word — was  with  God,  John  i. 
L  He  was  in  the  M^orld,  ver.  10.  We  beheld  his  glory, 
ver.  14.  And  of  the  Spirit.  He  dwelleth  with  you,  John 
xiv.  17.  The  Holy  Ghost  whom  the  Father  will  send  in 
my  name,  he  shall  teach  you  all  things,  ver.  26.  And 
whom  I  will  send  you  from  the  Father,  he  shall  testify  of 
me,  chap.  xv.  26.     And  when  he  is  come,  he  will  reprove 

the  world chap.  xvi.  8.     And  the  observation  seems  to 

me  as  weighty,  as  it  is  usual,  that,  in  some  of  the  mentioned 
chapters,  the  .somewhat  hard  s?/?i/Ac«s  of  constructing  iKEivni 
with  -r-vfvfia,  (even  where  naptUXrirof  is  not  the  nearer  suppo- 
sition, but,  in  one  place,  a  very  remote  one,  and  one 
would  think  too  remote  to  be  referred  to,  ver.  13,  14.)  is 
rather  chosen  to  be  used  than  that  the  Spirit  should  not  be 
spoken  of  as  a  distinct  he,  or  rather  than  he  should  be 
called  it,  which  could  not  so  fitly  notify  a  person.  If  the 
same  man  were  a  king,  a  general,  and  a  father,  I  doubt 
whether  that  would  give  sufficient  ground  to  his  being 
called  he,  and  he,  and  he. 

2.  But  the  distinct  predicates  spoken  of  the  three  sacred 
persons  in  the  Godhead  seem  much  more  to  challenge  a 
greater  distinction  of  the  persons  than  your  notion  of  a 
person  doth  seem  to  admit;  that  of  sending  and  hein^ sent, 
spoken  so  often  of  \he  first  in  reference  to  the  second,  and 
of  the  first  and  second  in  reference  to  the  third,  as  not  to 
need  the  quoting  of  places.  If  the  same  man  were  a  king, 
a  general,  and  a  judge,  methinks  it  would  not  well  square 
with  the  usual  forms  of  speaking  among  men  (and  God 
speaks  to  men  as  men)  to  say,  that,  as  the  first,  he  sends 
the  two  latter,  that  is,  himselif. 

And  one  would  think  our  being  required  to  be  baptized 
in  the  distinct  names  of  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost, 
should  signify  some  greater  distinction. 

As  also  that  three  are  said  to  bear  witne.ss  in  heaven.  I 
doubt  that  in  a  cause  wherein  our  law  reauires  two  or  more 


witnesses,  the  same  man  that  should  be  a  father,  a  bro- 
ther, and  a  son,  would  scarce  thereupon  be  admitted  for 
three  witnesses. 

And  how  the  incarnation  of  the  Son  can  be  understood 
according  to  your  notion  of  person,  without  the  Father's 
and  Holy  Ghost's  incarnation  also,  I  confess  I  cannot  appre- 
hend. Your  notion  of  a  person  contradistinct  to  the  scho- 
lastic notion,  as  was  said  before,  seems  to  leave  the  God- 
head to  be  but  one  hypostasis,  or  person,  in  the  latter  sense. 
How  then  are  we  to  conceive  of  the  hypostaticaj  union  1 
The  assumed  nature  will  be  as  much  hypostatically  united 
with  the  Father,  or  the  Spirit,  as  with  the  Son. 

3.  And  doth  not  this  civil,  or  mejely  respective,  notion 
of  a  person,  the  other  being  lefi,  fall  m  with  the  Antiirini- 
tarian  1  Will  it  not  make  us  Unitarians  only,  as  they  af- 
fect to  call  themselves '?  Would  any  of  them  (as  you  are 
pleased  to  take  notice.  Letter  6.  p.  1,  2.)  say,  none  hut  a 
mad-man  would  deny  there  may  be  three  persons  in  one 
God,  have  been  .so  mad  (not  yet  professing  themselves  con- 
verts) as  to  say  so,  if  they  had  not  supposed  their  cause 
not  hurt  by  this  notion  of  a  person  ?  For,  (as  you  well  say, 
Letter  1.)  we  need  not  be  tbnd  of  words,  so  "the  thing  be 
agreed  ;  so  have  they  equal  reason  to  say,  wc  need  not  be 
afraid  of  words,  if  in  the  sense  you  agree  with  us.  And 
with  one  sort  of  them  I  only  desire  you  to  consider  how 
great  an  appearance  the  asserting  only  of  three  persons,  in 
the  one  sense,  quitting  the  other, will  carry  offan  agreement. 

And  have  they  not  all  the  advantage  left  them  which 
they  seek  in  arguing  against  the  satisfaction  made  by  our 
Saviour,  from  the  necessity  of  an  allcrity,  that  in  the  busi- 
ness of  making  satisfaction  there  must  be  alter  oii/ue  alter. 
one  irho  satisfies,  and  avother  v:ho  is  satisfied.  I  do  very 
well  know,  what  instances  are  brought  of  human  rulers 
making  satisfaction  for  delinquents,  but  there  is  no  parity 
in  tlie  cases,  they  being  themselves  debtors  to  the  governed 
community,  as  God  is  not,  who  hath  with  most  undoubted 
righteousness  made  all  things  for  himself. 

4.  And  consider  whether  by  your  notion  of  a  person  you 
forsake  not  the  generality  of  them,  who  have  gone,  as  to 
this  point,  under  the  repute  of  orthoi^ox  ']  who  no  doubt, 
have  understood  by  three  persons,  three  intelligent  hypos- 
tasis ;  though  they  have  differed  in  thinking,  some  of  them, 
that  only  a  rpo'7r.>?  I'Tr/ipicus  was  the  gcnitvm  or  spiratnm  as  to 
the  two  latter:  a  notion  that  is  either  too  fine,  or  too  little 
solid,  for  some  minds  to  grasp,  or  take  any  hold  of:  others 
that  the  Divine  nature  might  itself  be  some  way  said  to  be 
communicated  to  them.     But  I  pa.'ss  to  the 

II.  Inquiry,  Whether  some  further  distinction  may  not 
be  admitted  as  possible  1  The  only  thing  that  straitens  us 
here,  is  the  most  unquestionable  unity  or  vnicity  (as  we 
may  call  it)  of  the  Godhead.  Which,  if  it  cannot  be 
otherwise  defended,  I  must  yet  for  my  part,  notwith.stand- 
ing  these  hardships  (and  I  know  no  man  with  wh(>m  I 
could  do  it  with  more  inclination)  fall  in  with  you.  But 
I  must  crave  it  of  you,  so  far  to  tall  in  with  you  know  not 
who,  as  to  apply  your  clearer  mind,  as  I  do  my  more 
cloudy  one,  to  consider  whether  it  can  or  no.  You  will 
here  say,  Further  than  what  1  and  what  would  I  have 
further  '1 

To  the  former  of  these,  I  only  say,  further  than  the  as- 
serting, in  very  deed,  but  one  hypostasis,  in  the  Godhead, 
distinguished  no  otherwise  into  three,  than  b}'  certain  re- 
lative capacities,  like  those  which  may  among  men  be  sus- 
tained by  one  and  the  same  man;  and  which  distinction, 
as  you  after  add,  is  analogous  to  what,  in  created  beings, 
is  called  distinctio  modalis. 

To  the  latter,  I  desire  you  to  observe  what  I  generally 
propose,  not  that  we  may  positively  assert  any  further 
determinate  distinction  as  certain  and  known  ;  hut  only 
whether  we  may  not  admit  some  further  distinction  to  be 
possible,  in  consistency  with  the  unity  of  the  Godhead.  I 
do  equally  detest  and  dread  to  speak  with  rash  and  pe- 
remptory confidence  about  things  both  so  mysterious  and 
so  sacred.  But  may  we  not  modestly  say,  thai  if  to  that 
economy  which  God  hath  represented  himself  in  his  word, 
to  bear,  and  keep  afoot,  towards  his  creatures,  any  further 
distinction  than  hath  been  assigned  is  necessary,  it  is  also 
possible,  and  may  be,  for  ought  we  know:  if  indeed  we 
know  nothing  to  the  contiary.  What  is  iinpossiblc  we  are 
sure  cannot  be  7iccessary.     But  God  himself  best  and  only 


148 


A  CALM  DISCOURSE  OF 


K-nows  his  own  nature,  and  wliat  his  own  meaning  is  in 
the  representation  he  hath  made  to  us.  If  we  sincerely  aim 
to  understand  his  meaning,  that  we  may  bear  ourselves 
towards  him  accordingly,  he  wilt  with  merciful  indul- 
gence consider  our  short,  or  mis-apprehensions.  But  we 
need  not  say  there  is  not  this  or  that  distinction,  if  really 
we  do  not  know  there  is  not.  While  we  know  so  little  of 
natures  inferior  to  our  own,  and  even  of  our  own  nature, 
and  how  things  are  distinguished  that  belong  to  ourselves, 
we  have  little  reason  to  be  shy  of  confessing  ignorance 
about  the  nature  of  God. 

Therefore  I  most  entirely  agree  to  the  two  conclusions 
of  the  ingenious  W.  J.  wherewith  he  concludes  his  letter. 
But  in  the  meantime  (and  pursuantly  enough  thereto)  can- 
not but  doubt  the  concludingness  of  his  very  acute  rea- 
sonings against,  at  least,  some  of  the  expressions  of  that 
learned  person,  (Dr.  Sherlock,)  which  he  animadverts  upon 
as  I  perceive  you  also  do,  p.  16.  of  your  seventh  letter. 
And  even  W.  J.  himself,  for  with  a  pious  modesty  he  tells 
us — concerning  infinite  natures  he  presumes  not  to  deter- 
mine.    Letter,  p.  8. 

What  he  objects  against  that  author's  having  said  the 
Divine  persons  are  three  beings  really  distinct,  (wherein 
I  instance,  not  intending  to  rim  through  that  elaborate  let- 
ter,) that  then  there  must  be  three  distinct  essences — seems 
to  me  a  irdpcpynv.  I  doubt  not  the  author  will  easily  admit 
it.  But  what  will  be  the  consequence  1  That  therefore 
there  are  three  Deities  1  That  cannot  be  his  meaning, 
nor  be  consequent  from  it,  if  he  only  means  that  the  Deity 
comprehends  in  it  three  such  essences.  If  indeed  he  think 
those  three  beings  are  as  distinct  as  Peter,  James,  and  John ; 
what  is  said  by  W.  J.  against  him,  I  think  irrefragable, 
that  then  they  are  no  otherwise  one,  than  Peter,  James,  and 
John  ;  and  by  him  against  himself;  for  Peter,  James,  and 
John,  are  not  mutually  self-conscious,  as  they  are  asserted 
to  be :  which  mutual  self-consciousness,  since  it  is  sup- 
posed to  make  the  three  Divine  persons  one,  cannot  be 
supposed  to  leave  them  so  distinct,  as  tl.ey  are  with  whom 
it  is  not  found. 

As  to  what  is  observed  of  the  defective  expression  of  this 
unitive  principle  by  the  word  consciousness,  that  bare 
consciousness,  without  consent,  is  no  more  than  bare  om- 
nisciency;  sure  it  is  not  so  much,  for  consciousness  doth 
not  signify  omnisciency.  We  are  conscious  to  ourselves, 
yet  are  not  omniscient.  But  I  reckon,  (as  I  find  he  also 
doth,)  that  even  consent  added  to  consciousness,  would  yet 
leave  the  expression  defective,  and  still  want  the  unifying 
power  which  is  sought  after.  For  it  would  infer  no  more 
than  a  sort  of  moral  union,  which,  in  the  kind  of  it,  may 
be  found  among  men,  between  whom  there  is  so  little  of 
natural  union  (speaking  of  the  numerical  nature)  that  they 
are  actuall)'^  separate. 

But  now  may  we  not  suppose  (as  that  which  is  possible, 
and  actually  is,  for  ought  we  know)  what  may  be  funda- 
mental to  both  consciousness  and  consent,  a  natural  union 
even  of  the  numerical  natures  1  Such  a  union  would  not 
infer  a  itnity,  or  identity  of  these  natures,  essences,  sub- 
stances, or  beings  themselves.  For,  as  W.  J.  hath  well 
urged,  (Letter,  p.  5,  6.)  "  Substances  upon  union  are  not 
confounded  or  identified,  or  brought  to  unity  of  substance, 
but  continuing  numerically  distinct  substances,  acquire 
some  mutual  community  or  communication  of  operations, 
&c.  And  deferring  the  consideration  awhile  what  this 
would  signify  towards  the  unity,  notwithstanding,  of  the 
Godhead,  we  shall  take  notice  how  accommodatingly  to 
our  present  purpose  W.  J.  speaks  in  what  I'ollows,  where 
instancing  in  the  chief  unions  that  are  known  to  us,  he 
says,  "  Our  soul  and  body  are  tM'o  substances  really  dis- 
tinct, and  in  close  union  with  one  another.  But  notwith- 
standing this,  they  continue  distinct  substances  under  that 
union.  In  like  manner  the  human  soul  of  Christ  is  in 
union  with  the  Logos,  or  second  person  of  the  trinity, 
which  we  call  an  hyposfatical  union.  But  neither  dotli 
this  union  make  a  unity  of  substance.  For  the  two  sub- 
stances of  the  Divine  and  human  natures  continue  dis- 
tinct under  that  union."  'Tis  true,  he  adds,  "  which  must 
not  be  Eillowed  in  the  unity  of  the  Godhead,  where  there 
can  be  no  plurality  or  multiplicity  of  substances."  Nor  do 
I  say  that  it  must,  I  only  say,  Do  we  know,  or  are  we  sure, 
there  is  no  sort  uf  plurality  7 


But  if  we  are  sure  that  there  are  temporal  unions,  (i.  e. 
begun  in  time,)  as  in  ourselves,  for  instance,  of  two  sub- 
stances that  make  but  one  man,  and  in  our  Saviour  a  hu- 
man nature  and  divine  that  make  but  one  Emmanuel ; 
how  do  we  know  but  that  there  may  be  three  in  the  God- 
head that  make  but  one  God"?  And  the  rather,  because 
this  being  supposed,  it  must  also  be  supposed  that  they 
are  necessarily  and  eternally  united,  and  with  a  conjunct 
natural  impossibility  of  ever  being,  or  having  been,  other- 
wise, whereof  the  absolute  immutability  of  God  must  upon 
that  supposition  most  certainly  assure  us.  And  such  a  sup- 
posed union  will  be  most  remote  from  making  the  Deity 
an  aggregate.  And  for  any  thing  of  composition,  I  reckon 
we  are  mo.st  strictly  bound  to  believe  every  thing  of  the 
most  perfect  simplicity  of  the  Divine  Being  which  his 
word  informs  us  of,  and  to  assent  to  every  thing  that  is 
with  plain  evidence  demonstrable  of  it.  But  not  every 
thing  which  the  schools  would  impose  upon  us,  without 
such  testimony  or  evidence.  For  as  none  can  "know  the 
things  of  a  man,  but  the  spirit  of  man  which  is  in  him ; 
so  nor  can  any  know  the  things  of  God,  but  the  Spirit  of 
God."  Nor  can  I  think  the  argument  concluding  from  the 
imperfection  of  a  being,  in  which  distinct  things  concur 
that  were  separate,  or  are  de  woro  united,  to  the  imperfec- 
tion of  a  being,  in  which  things  some  way  di.stinct  are  ne- 
cessarily and  eternally  self-united.  Nor  can  therefore 
agree  with  W.  J.  that  we  are  to  look  (universally)  upon 
real  distinction  as  a  mark  of  superability ;  or  that  clear 
and  distinct  conception  is  to  us  the  rule  of  partibility. 
For  though  I  will  not  affirm  that  to  be  the  state  of  all  created 
spirits  ;  yet  I  cannot  deny  it  to  be  possible  that  God  might 
have  created  such  a  being,  as  should  have  in  it  distinct, 
(assignable)  parts,  all  of  them  essential  to  it,  and  not  se- 
parable from  it  without  the  cessation  of  the  whole.  But 
now,  as  the  accession  of  the  human  nature  to  the  Divine 
in  the  hypostatical  union  infer  no  imperfection  to  the  Di- 
vine, so  much  le.ss  would  what  things  we  may  suppose 
naturally,  necessarily,  and  eternally  united  in  the  God- 
head, infer  any  imperfection  therein. 

I  easily  admit  what  is  said  by  W.  J.,  Letter,  page  8, 
That  we  have  no  better  definition  of  God,  than  that  he  is 
— a  Spirit  infinitely  perfect.  But  then,  being  so  far  taught 
by  himself  my  conception  of  him,  I  must  include  in  it, 
this  trinal  distinction,  or  a  triple  somewhat  which  he  af- 
firms of  himself,  and  without  which,  or  any  one  whereof, 
he  were  not  infinitely  perfect  and  consequently  not  God, 
and  that  all  together  do  make  one  God.  As  you  most  apt- 
ly say  of  your  resemblance  of  him,  a  cube,  there  are  in  it 
three  dimensions  truly  distinct  from  each  other,  yet  all 
these  are  but  one  cube,  and  if  any  one  of  the  three  were 
wanting,  it  were  not  a  cube. 

Set  this  down  then  for  the  notion  of  God,  that  he  is  a 
Spirit  infinitely  perfect,  comprehending  in  that  omnimo- 
dous  perfection  a  trinal  distinction,  or  three  persons  truly 
distinct,  each  whereof  is  God.  What  will  be  the  conse- 
quence 1  that  therefore  there  are  three  Gods  1  Not  at  all, 
but  that  each  of  these  partaking  divine  nature  give  us  an 
inadequate,  and  altogether  a  most  perfectly  adequate  and 
entire,  notion  of  God.  Nor  would  the  language  of  this  hy- 
pothesis being  pressed  to  speak  out  (as  he  says  in  his  let- 
ter) he  this — these  are  not  fit  to  be  called  three  Gods;  but 
not  possible  (with  any  truth)  to  be  so  called. 

And  whereas  he  after  tells  us,  these  three  beings  united 
b)^  similitude  of  nature,  mutual  consciousness,  consent, 
co-operation  vmder  the  greatest  union  possible ;  and  in  that 
state  of  union  do  constitute  the  to  9ciov,  the  entire  all-com- 
prehensive Godhead,  and  adds,  this  looks  somewhat  like 
a  conceivable  thing.     To  this  I  note  two  things  : 

1.  That  he  makes  it  not  look  like  so  conceivable  a  thing, 
as  it  really  may  do.  For  he  leaves  out  the  most  important 
thing,  that  was  as  supposable  as  any  of  the  rest,  and  prior 
to  a  mere  similitude,  viz.  a  natural  union  of  fhese  (sup- 
posed) distinct  essences,  without  which  they  are  not  under 
the  greatest  union  possible  ;  and  which,  being  supposed 
necessary,  and  eternal,  cannot  admit  these  should  he  more 
than  one  God. 

2.  I  note,  that  what  he  opposes  to  it  (.so  defectively  re- 
presented) is  as  defective,  that  the  Christian  trinity  doth 
not  use  to  be  represented  thus,  &c.  What  hurt  is  therein 
it,  if  it  can  be  more  intelligibly  represented  than  hath  been 


THE  TRINITY  IN  THE  GODHEAD. 


149 


used  1  Bui  his  gentle  treatment  of  this  hypothesis,  which 
he  thought,  as  he  represents  it,  not  altogether  unintelligi- 
bl«,  and  which  with  some  help  may  be  more  intelligible, 
became  one  inquiring  what  might  most  safely,  and  with 
least  torture  to  our  own  minds,  be  said  or  thought  in  so 
awful  a  mystery.  It  however  seems  not  proper  to  call  this 
an  hypostatical  union — much  less  to  say  it  amounts  to  no 
more.  It  amounts  not  to  so  much.  For  an  hypostatical 
or  personal  union  would  make  the  terms  united  (the  unita, 
the  things  or  somewhats  under  this  union)  become  by  it 
one  hypostasis  or  person ;  whereas  this  union  must  leave 
them  distinct  persons  or  hypostases,  but  makes  them  one 
God.  In  the  use  of  the  phrase  hypostatical  or  personal 
union  the  denomination  is  not  taken  from  the  subject  of 
the  union,  as  if  the  design  were  to  signify  that  to  be  divers 
hypostases,  or  persons,  but  from  the  effect  or  result  of  the 
mentioned  union,  to  signify  that  which  results  to  be  one 
person  or  hypostasis.  As  the  matter  is  plain  in  the  in- 
stance wherein  it  is  of  most  noted  use,  the  case  of  the  two 
natures  united  in  the  one  person  of  the  Son  of  God  ;  where 
the  things  united  are  not  suppose^  to  be  two  persons,  but 
two  natures  so  conjoined,  as  yet  to  make  but  one  person, 
which  therefore  is  the  negative  result  or  effect  of  the 
union,  viz.  that  the  person  is  not  muliiplied  bj^  the  acces- 
sion of  another  nature,  but  remains  still  only  one.  But  this 
were  a  union  quite  of  another  kind,  viz.  of  the  three  hy- 
postases, still  remaining  distinct,  and  concurring  in  one 
Godhead.  And  may  not  this  be  supposed  without  preju- 
dice to  its  perfection. 

For  the  schools  themselves  suppose  themselves  not  to 
admit  a  composition  prejudicial  to  the  perfection  of  the 
Godhead,  when  they  admit  three  modes  of  subsistence, 
which  are  distinct  from  one  another,  and  from  the  God- 
head, which  they  must  admit.  For  if  each  of  them  were 
the  very  Godhead,  each  of  them  (as  is  urged  against  us  by 
you  know  who)  must  have  three  persons  belonging  to  it, 
as  the  Godhead  hath.  And  yourself  acknowledge  three 
somewhats  in  the  Godhead  distinct,  or  else  they  could  not 
be  three.  I  will  not  here  urge  that  if  they  be  three  some- 
whats, they  must  be  three  things,  not  three  nothings  ;  for 
however  uneasy  it  is  to  assign  a  medium  between  something 
and  nothing,  I  shall  waive  that  metaphysical  contest.  But 
yet  collect,  that  simplicity  in  the  very  strictest  sense  that 
can  be  conceived,  is  not,  m  your  account,  to  be  ascribed  to 
God,  either  according  to  his  own  word,  or  the  reason  of 
things. 

It  may  here  be  urged,  How  can  we  conceive  this  natural 
union  (as  I  have  adventured  to  phrase  it)  of  the  three  per- 
sons, supposing  them  distinct  things,  substances,  or  spirits  1 
Is  such  a  union  conceivable,  as  shall  make  them  be  but 
one  God,  and  not  be  such,  as  shall  make  them  cease  to  be 
three  distinct  things,  substances,  or  spirits  1  We  fmd  in- 
deed the  mentioned  unions  of  soul  and  body  in  ourselves, 
and  of  the  two  natures  in  Christ,  consistent  enough  with 
manifest  distinction ;  but  then  the  things  united  are  in 
themselves  of  most  different  natures.  But  if  things  of  .^ 
congenerous  a  nature  he  united,  will  not  their  distinction 
be  lost  in  their  union  1 

I  answer,  1.  That  a  spirit  and  a  spirit  are  numerically 
as  distinct,  as  a  body  and  a  spirit.  And,  2.  That  we  may 
certainly  conceive  it  as  possible  to  God  to  have  united  two 
or  three  created  spirits,  and  by  as  strict  imion  as  is  be- 
tween our  souls  and  bodies,  without  confounding  them ; 
and  I  reckon  the  union  between  our  souls  and  bodies 
much  more  wonderful  than  that  would  have  been.  Why 
then  is  an  unmade,  uncreated  union  of  three  spirits  less 
conceivable  as  that  which  is  to  be  pre-supposed  to  their 
mutual  consciousness "? 

I  shall  not  move,  or  meddle  with,  any  controversy  about 
the  infinity  of  these  three  supposed  substances  or  spirits,  it 
being  acknowledged  on  all  hands  that  contemplations  of 
that  kind  cannot  but  be  above  our  measure.  And  well 
knowing  how  much  easier  it  is  to  puzzle  oneself  upon  that 
question,  Anpnssib  dari  infinitum infinito  infinitius,  than  to 
speak  salisfyinerly  and  unexceptionabl}'  about  it  to  ano- 
ther. 

And  though  I  will  not  use  the  expressions,  as  signifying 
my  formed  judgment,  that  there  are  three  things,  sub- 
stances, or  spirits  in  the  Godhead,  (as  you  that  there  are 
three  somewhats,)  yet,  as  I  have  many  years  thought,  I  do 
14 


still  think,  that  what  the  learned  W.  J.  doth  but  more 
lightly  touch  of  the  Son  and  the  Holy  Ghost  being  pro- 
duced (which  term  I  use,  but  reciting  it,  as  he  doth)  not 
by  a  voluntary  external,  but  by  an  internal,  necessary,  and 
emanalive  act,  hath  great  weight  in  it. 

In  short,  my  sense  hath  long  lain  thus,  and  I  submit  it 
to  your  searching  and  candid  judgment,  viz.  That  though 
we  need  not  have  determinate  thoughts,  how  far  the  Fa- 
ther, Son,  and  Holy  Ghost  are  distinguished ;  yet  we 
must  conceive  them  in  the  general  to  be  so  far  distia- 
guished,  as  is  really  necessary  to  the  founding  the  di.stinct 
attributions  which  the  Scriptures  do  distinctly  give  them. 
And  that  whatever  distinction  is  truly  necessary  to  that 
purpose,  will  yet  not  hinder  the  two  laUer's  part'icipation 
with  the  first  in  the  Godhead,  which  can  be  but  one;  be- 
cause that  though  we  are  led  by  plain  Scripture,  and  the 
very  import  of  that  word,  to  conceive  of  the  Father  as  the 
Fountain,  yet  the  Son  being  from  him,  and  the  Holy 
Ghost  from  thein  both,  not  contingently,  or  dependently 
on  will  and  pleasure,  but  by  eternal,  natural,  necessary 
promanation,  these  two  latter  are  infiiiitely  distinguished 
from  the  whole  creation ;  inasmuch  as  all  creatures  are 
contingent  beings,  or  dependent  upon  will  and  pleasure, 
as  the  character  is  given  us  of  created  things.  Rev.  iv.  11. 
Thou  hast  made  all  things,  and  for  thy  pleasure  they  are 
and  were  created.  But  that  whatever  is  what  it  is  neces- 
sarilj^,  is  God.  For  I  have  no  doubt  but  the  dreams  of 
some,  more  anciently,  and  of  late,  concerning  necessary 
matter,  and  the  sophisms  of  Spinosa  and  some  others, 
tending  to  prove  the  necessity  and  identitj'  of  all  substance, 
are  (with  what  they  aim  to  evince)  demonstrably  false. 
The  sum  of  all  will  be  this, 

1.  That  we  can  be  more  certain  of  nothing  than  that 
there  is  but  one  God. 

2.  We  are  most  sure  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost, 
are  sufficiently  distinguished  to  give  a  just  ground  to  the 
distinct  attributions,  which  are  in  the  Scripture  severally 
given  to  them. 

3.  We  are  not  sure  what  that  sufficient  distinction  is; 
(wherein  I  find  j-ou  saying  with  me  over  and  over)  but 
whereas  you  rightly  make  the  v.'ord  person  applicable  to 
God,  but  in  a  sense  analogous  to  that  which  olnains  of  it 
with  men ;  why  may  it  not  be  said  it  may  be  filly  applica- 
ble, for  ought  we  know,  in  a  sense  analogous  to  that  no- 
tion of  it  among  men,  which  makesa/;c/-5<)7i  signify  an  in- 
telligent hypostasis,  and  so  three  distinct  intelligent  hypos- 
tases. 

4.  But  if  that  sufficient  distinction  can  be  no  less,  than 
that  there  be  in  the  Godhead  three  distinct  intelligent  hy- 
postases, each  having  its  own  distinct  singular  intelligent 
nature,  with  its  proper  personality  belonging  to  it,  we 
know  nothing  to  the  contraiy,  but  that  the  necessary  eter- 
nal nature  of  the  Godhead  may  admit  thereof.  If  any  can 
from  plain  Scripture  testimonj*,  or  cogent  reason,  evince 
the  contrary,  let  the  evidence  be  produced.  In  the  mean- 
time we  need  notimpcse  upon  ourselves  any  formal  denial 
of  it. 

5.  If  the  contrary  can  be  evidenced,  and  that  hereupon 
it  be  designed  to  conclude  that  there  can  be  but  one  intel- 
ligent hypostasis  in  the  Godhead,  and  therefore  that  the 
Son  and  the  Holy  Ghost  are  but  creatures,  the  last  refuge 
must  be  to  deny  the  former  consequence,  and  to  allege 
that  though  the  same  finite  singular  nature  cannot  well  be 
understood  to  remain  entirely  to  one,  and  be  communica- 
ted entirely  to  another,  and  another,  the  case  will  not  be 
the  same,  speaking  of  an  infinite  nature.  ^ 

Sir, 

If  what  is  here  said  shall  occasion  to  you  any  new 
thoughts  that  you  shall  judge  maj-^  be  of  common  use,  I 
conceive  there  will  be  no  need  of  publishing  my  letter,  but 
only  that  you  be  pleased  to  communicate  your  ovro.  senti- 
ments, as  from  yourself  which  will  have  so  much  the 
more  of  authoiity  and  usefulness  with  them.  The  most 
considerable  thing  that  I  have  hinted,  is  the  necessary  pro- 
manation of  the  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  that  must  distin- 
guish them  from  contingent  beings,  and  so  from  creatures; 
which  if  vou  think  improveable  to  any  good  purpose,  as  it 
hath  been  with  me  a  thought  many  years  old.  so  I  suppose 
it  not  new  to  you,  and  being  now'  resumed  by  you,  upon 


150 


A  CALM  DISCOURSE  OP 


this  occasion,  you  will  easily  cultivate  it  to  better  advan- 
tage than  any  words  of  mine  can  give  it. 

But  if  you  think  it  advisable  that  any  part  of  my  letter 
be  published,  if  you  please  to  signify  your  mind  to  that 

purpose  in  one  line  to marked it  will  come  sealed 

to  my  view,  and  will  give  opportunity  of  offering   my 
thoughts  to  you,   what  parts   I   would   have  suppressed, 
which  will  be  such  only,  as  shall  leave  the  rest  the  fuller 
testimony  of  my  being, 
Sir, 

Your  most  sincere  honourer,  and  most 
respectful  humble  servant, 
Anonym. 

Poiret's  method  of  proving  a  trinity  in  the  Godhead, 
though  it  call  itself  mathematical  or  geometrical,  is  with 
me  much  less  convictive,  than  the  plain  scriptural  way. 


LETTER  n. 


Sin, 


Your  eighth  letter  happening  to  come  to  my  view  be- 
fore it  W3,s  printed  off,  I  have  the  opportunity  of  taking  no- 
tice to  you  that  it  quite  misrepresents  the  intent  of  the  let- 
ter to  you  subscribed  Anonymous,  which  it  makes  to  be 
the  defending  or  excusing  some  expressions  of  Dr.  Sher- 
lock's ;  which  indeed  was  the  least  considerable  thing,  if  it 
were  any  thing  at  all,  in  the  design  of  that  letter,  and  not 
altogether  accidental  to  it.  The  true  design  of  it  was,  that 
there  might  be  a  clearer  foundation  asserted  (as  possible 
at  least)  to  the  doctrine  of  the  incarnation  and  satisfaction 
of  the  Son  of  God.  Nor  can  the  forti  quod  sic  here  be 
solved  by  \.\\q  forte  quod  non,  the  exigency  of  the  case  be- 
ing such,  as  that  if  more  be  possible  it  will  be  highly  requi- 
site ;  and  that  it  cannot  well  be  avoided  to  assert  more, 
unless  it  can  be  clearly  evinced  that  more  is  impossible. 
Nor  yet  is  it  necessary  to  determine  how  much  more  is 
necessarj'.  But  not  only  the  commonly  received  frame 
of  Christian  doctrine  doth  seem  to  require  somewhat  be- 
yond what  the  mere  civil  or  respective  notion  of  the  word 
person  imports;  but  also  the  plain  letter  of  Scripture, 
which  says,  Heb.  i.  3,  that  the  Son  of  God  is  the  express 
image  of  the  Father's  hypostasis,  which  seems  to  signify 
there  are  two  hypostases,  and  other  Scriptures  seem  to  say 
enough,  whence  we  may  with  parity  of  reason  collect  a 
third.  Now  that  letter  intimates,  I  think,  sufficient  mat- 
ter of  doubt,  whether  hypostasis  doth  not  signify  much  more 
than  person,  in  }'our  sense. 

The  principal  thing  that  letter  humbly  offered  to  consi- 
deration— i.  e.  whether  supposing  a  greater  distinction 
than  you  have  assigned  be  necessary,  it  may  not  be  defend- 
ed, by  the  just  supposal  that  the  proinanation  of  the  second 
or  third  persons  (or  hypostases  rather)  howsoever  diverse 
they  are,  is  by  natural  eternal  necessity,  not  contingent, 
or  depending  upon  will  and  pleasure,  as  all  created  beings 
is  and  doth — is  altogether  waived.  That  letter  was  written 
with  design  of  giving  you  the  occasion  of  considering 
what  might  be  further  requisite  and  possible  to  bea.sserted 
for  the  serving  of  the  truth,  and  with  that  sincerity  and 
plenitude  of  respect  to  you  that  it  might  be  wholly  iii  your 
own  power  to  do  it  in  such  a  way,  as  wherein  not  at  all 
to  disserve  yourself.  Which  temper  of  mind  is  still  the 
same  with 

Rev.  Sir, 

Your  most  raifeigned  honourer, 

and  humble  servant. 
Anonym. 

Decemb.    91. 


LETTER  III. 

Worthy  Sir, 
I  AM  v«ry  loath  troublesomelv  to  importune  you.  But 
»he  very  little  time  I  had  for  the  view  of  your  eighth  let- 


ter, before  I  wrote  mine  by  the  last  post,  not  allowing  me 
fully  to  write  my  sense  as  to  that  part  which  concerned 
my  former  letter,  I  take  leave  now  to  add,  thi-t  my  design 
in  it  (as  well  as  the  professed  design  of  the  letter  itself) 
was  to  offer  you  the  occasion  of  employing  that  clear  un- 
derstanding, wherewith  God  hath  blest  you,  above  most, 
in  consideringwhether  a  greaterlatitude  cannot  be  allowed 
us  in  conceiving  the  distinction  of  the  three  in  the  God- 
head consistently  with  the  unity  thereof,  than  your  notion 
of  a  person  will  extend  to.  And  if  it  can,  whether  it  ought 
not  to  be  represented  (at  least  as  possible)  to  give  a  less 
exceptionable  ground  to  the  doctrines  of  the  incarnation 
and  satisfaction  of  the  second  person,  in  order  whereto  it 
seems  to  me  highly  requisite.  This  was  that  I  really  in- 
tended, and  not  the  vindicating  the  sentiments  of  that  au- 
thor, which  3^ ou  might  observe  that  letter  animadverts  upon. 
The  Scripture  seems  to  allow  a  greater  latitude,  by  the 
ground  it  gives  us  to  apprehend  three  hypostases ;  which 
so  much  differ  from  the  notion  you  give  of  persons,  that 
one  hypostasis  may  sustain  three  .such  persons  as  you  de- 
scribe. The  only  thing  that  seems  to  straiten  us  in  this 
matter,  is  the  usual  doctrine  of  the  schools  about  the  Di- 
vine simplicity.  I  confess  I  greatly  coveted  to  have  had 
your  thoughts  engaged  in  sifting  and  examining  that 
doctrine ;  so  far  as  to  consider  whether  there  be  really  any 
thing  in  it  cogent  and  demonstrable,  that  will  be  repug- 
nant to  what  is  overturned  in  that  letter.  And  I  the  rather 
desired  more  room  might  be  gained  in  this  matter,  appre- 
hending the  unitarians  (as  they  more  lately  affect  to  call 
themselves)  might  upon  the  whole,  think  you  more  theirs 
than  ours  ;  and  while  they  agree  with  you  concerning  the 
possibility  of  such  a  trinity  as  you  assert,  may  judge  their 
advantage  against  the  other  mentioned  doctrines,  no  less 
than  it  was. 

My  desiring  that  letter  of  mine  might  not  be  printed, 
was  most  agreeable  to  what  I  intended  in  writing  it ;  that 
was,  only  to  suggest  to  you  somewhat  (very  loosely)  that 
I  reckoned  you  more  capable  than  any  man  I  knew,  to 
cultivate,  and  improve,  to  the  great  service  of  the  common 
Christian  cause.  And  that  you  might  seem  to  say,  what 
you  might,  upon  your  own  search,  find  safe  and  fit  to  be 
said,  as  merely  from  yourself,  without  taking  notice  what 
occasion  was  given  you  by  any  such  letter  at  all.  Had  I 
designed  it  for  public  view,  it  should  have  been  writ  with 
more  care,  and  with  more  (expressed)  respect  to  you.  But 
if,  upon  the  whole,  you  judge  there  is  nothing  in  it  consi- 
derable to  the  purposes  it  mentions,  my  further  request  is, 
you  will  please  rather  to  suppress  that  part  of  your  letter 
which  concerns  it,  (for  which  I  suppose  there  is  yet  oppor- 
tunity,) and  take  no  notice  any  such  letter  came  to  your 
hands.     I  am, 

Reverend  Sir, 

Your  most  respectful, 

humble  servant, 

Anonym. 

December  19,  91. 


SUMMARY  PROPOSITIONS. 

Collected,  owt  of  the  foregoing  discourses,  more  briefly  offer- 
ing to  view  the  substance  of  what  is  cowtairied  in  them. 

1.  Of  the  unity  of  the  Godhead  there  can  be  no  doubt, 
it  being  in  reason  demonstrable,  and  most  expressly  often 
asserted  in  Scripture. 

2.  That  there  is  a  trinity  in  the  Godhead,  of  Father, 
Son,  or  Word,  and  Holy  Ghost,  is  the  plain,  obvious  sense 
of  so  many  scriptures,  that  it  apparently  tends  to  frustrate 
the  design  of  the  whole  Scripture  revelation,  and  to  make 
it  useless,  not  to  admit  this  trinity,  or  otherwise  to  under- 
stand such  scriptures. 

3.  That  therefore  the  devising  any  other  sense  of  such 
scriptures  ought  by  no  means  to  be  attempted,  unless  this 
trinity  in  the  Godhead  can  be  evidently  demonstrated  to 
be  impossible. 

4.  That  the  impossibility  of  it  can  never  be  demonstra- 


THE  TRINITY  IN  THE  GODHEAD. 


151 


ted  from  the  mere  uniti/  ol  me  Godhead,  -vhich  may  be 
such,  as  to  admit  these  distinctions  in  it,  for  aught  we 
know. 

5.  Nothing  is  more  appropriate  to  the  Godhead  than  to 
be  a  necessarily  existent,  intelligent  Being :  since  all  crea- 
tures, whether  intel  igent  or  unintelligent,  are  conlingent, 
depending  upon  the  will  of  the  necessary,  intelligent  Be- 
ing. 

6.  If  therefore  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost  do  co- 
exist in  the  Godhead  necessarily,  they  cannot  but  be  God. 

7.  And  if  the  first  be  conceiv^ed  as  the  fountain,  the  se- 
cond as  by  natural,  necessary  (not  voluntary,  promanation 
from  the  first,  the  third  by  natural,  necessary  (not  volun- 
tary) spiration,  so  as  that  neither  uf  these  latter  could  have 
been  otherwise  ;  this  aptly  agrees  with  the  notions  of  Fa- 
ther, Son,  and  Spirit  distinctly  put  upon  them,  and  infi- 
nitely distinguishes  the  two  latter  from  all  creatures  that 
depend  upon  will  and  pleasure. 

8.  Whatever  distinction  there  be  of  these  three  among 
themselves,  yet  the  first  being  the  original,  the  second  be- 
ing by  that  promanation  necessarily  and  eternally  united 
with  the  first,  the  third  by  such  spiration  united  necessari- 
ly and  eternally  with  both  the  other,  inasmuch  as  eternity 
and  necessity  of  existence  admit  no  change,  this  union 
must  be  inviolable  and  everlasting,  and  thereupon  the 
Godhead  which  they  constitute  can  be  but  one. 

9.  We  have  among  the  creatures,  and  even  in  ourselves, 
instances  of  very  different  natures,  continuing  distinct,  but 
so  miited  as  to  be  one  thing ;  and  it  were  more  easily  .sup- 
posable  of  congenerous  natures. 

10.  If  such  union  with  distinction  be  impossible  in  the 
Godhead,  it  must  not  be  from  any  repugnancy  in  the  thing 
itself,  since  very  intimate  union,  with  continuing  distmc- 
tion,  is  in  itself  no  impossible  thing;  but  from  somewhat 
peculiar  to  the  Divine  Being. 

11.  That  peculiarity,  since  it  cannot  be  unity  (which  be- 
cause it  may  admit  distinctions  in  one  and  the  same  thing, 
we  are  not  sure  it  cannot  be  so  in  the  Godhead)  must  be 
that  simplicity  commonly  wont  to  be  ascribed  to  the  Di- 
vine nature. 

12.  Such  simplicity  as  shall  exclude  that  distinction, 
which  shall  appear  necessary  in  the  present  case,  is  not  by 
express  Scripture  any  where  ascribed  to  God  ;  and  there- 
fore must  be  rationally  demonstrated  of  him,  if  it  shall  be 
judged  to  belong  at  all  to  him. 

13.  Absolute  simplicity  is  not  a  perfection,  nor  is  by  any 
ascribed  to  God.  Not  by  the  Socinians  themselves,  who 
ascribe  to  him  the  several  intellectual  and  moral  excellen- 
cies, that  ai'e  attributed  to  him  in  the  Scriptures,  of  which 
they  give  very  different  definitions,  as  may  be  seen  in 
their  own  Volkelius  at  large,  which  should  signify  them 
not  to  be  counted,  in  all  respects,  the  same  thing. 

14.  That  is  not  a  just  consequence,  which  is  the  most 
plausible  one  that  seems  capable  of  being  alleged  for 
such  absolute  simplicity,  that  otherwise  there  would  be  a 
composition  admitted  in  the  Divine  nature,  which  would 
import  an  imperfection  inconsistent  with  Deity.  For  the 
several  excellencies  that  concur  in  it,  howsoever  distin- 
guished, being  never  put  together,  nor  having  ever  ex- 
isted apart,  but  in  eternal,  necessar}'^  union,  though  they 
may  make  some  sort  of  variety,  import  no  proper  compo- 
sition, and  carry  with  them  more  apparent  perfection, 
than  absolute  omnimodous  simplicity  can  be  conceived  to 
do. 

15.  Such  a  supposed  possible  variety  even  of  individual 
natures  in  the  Deity,  some  way  differing  from  each  other, 
infers  not  an  unbounded  liberty  of  conceiving  what  plu- 
ralities therein  we  please  or  can  imagine.  The  divine  reve- 
lation, which  could  only  justify,  doth  also  limit  us,  herein, 
mentioning  three  distinct  I's  or  He's,  and  no  more. 

16.  The  several  attributes  which  are  common  to  these 
three,  do  to  our  apprehension,  and  way  of  conceiving 
things,  require  less  distinction;  no  more,  for  ought  we 
know,  than  may  arise  from  their  being  variously  modified, 
according  to  the  distinction  of  objects,  or  other  extrinsical 
things,  to  which  they  may  be  referred. 

We  that  so  little  know  how  our  own  souls,  and  the 
powers  and  principles  that  belong  to  them,  do  differ  from 
one  another,  and  from  them,  must  be  supposed  more  igno- 
rant, and  should  be  less  curious,  in  this. 


A  LETTER  TO  A  FRIEND, 

CONCERNING  A  POSTSCRIPT. 

TO  THE  DEFENCE  OE   DR.  SHERLOCK'S  NOTION  OF  THE   TRIN- 
ITY IN  UNITY,  RELATING  TO  THE  CALM  AND  SOBER  IN- 

quiky  upon  the  same  subject. 

Sir, 

I  FIND  a  postscript  to  the  newly  published  deience  of 
Dr.  Sherlock's  notion  of  the  Trinity  in  Unity,  takes  no- 
tice of  the  inquiry  concerning  the  possibilitv  of  a  trinity 
in  the  Godhead.  He  that  writes  it  seems  .somewhat  out  of 
humour,  or  not  in  such  as  it  is  decent  to  hope  is  more 
usual  with  him :  and  I  can't  guess  for  what,  unless  that 
one,  whom  he  imagines  a  dissenter,  hath  adventured  to 
cast  his  eyes  that  way  that  he  did  his.  But  for  that  imagina- 
tion he  may  have  as  little  ground,  as  I  to  think  the  dean's  de- 
fender is  the  dean ;  and  a.s  little  as  he  had  to  saj-  the  in- 
quirer took  great  care  that  no  man  should  suspect  that  he 
favours  the  dean  in  his  notion.  Here  he  is  quite  out  in  his 
guess ;  for  the  inquirer  took  no  such  care  at  all,  but  nakedly 
to  represent  his  own  sentiments  as  they  were,  whether  they 
agreed  with  the  dean's,  or  wherein  they  difiered :  and 
really  cares  not  who  knows  that  he  hath  not  so  little  kind- 
ness either  for  truth  or  for  him,  as  to  abandon  or  decline 
what  he  thinks  to  be  true  for  his  sake,  or  (as  he  expressed 
himself,  p.  29.  of  that  discourse)  because  he  said  it. 

But  the  defender  represents  the  dean  as  much  of  ano- 
ther temper,  and  that  he  will  thank  him  for  not  favouring 
him  in  his  notions.  But  yet  he  says,  that  though  the  in- 
quirer doth  not  in  every  particular  say  what  the  dean  says, 
yet  he  says  what  will  justify  him  against  the  charge  of  tri- 
theism.  And  is  there  any  hurt  to  him  in  that  1  What  a 
strange  man  doth  he  make  the  dean  !  as  if  he  could  not 
be  pleased  unless  he  alone  did  engross  truth!  Will  he 
thank  a  man  for  not  favouring  his  notions,  and  yet  would 
blame  him  for  not  saying  in  every  particular  what  he  says, 
though  he  say  what  will  justify  him  against  the  heaviest 
charge  framed  against  him"?  may  one  neither  be  allowed 
to  agree  with  him,  nor  disagree  1 

But,  Sir,  the  defender's  discourse  hath  no  design  (nor  I 
believe  he  himself)  to  disprove  the  possibility  of  a  trinity 
in  the  ever  blessed  Godhead.  Therefore  the  inquirer  is  safe 
from  him  as  to  the  principal  design  he  is  concerned  for,  it 
is  all  one  to  him  if  it  still  appear  possible  in  what  way  it 
be  so  represented,  that  is  intelligible,  consistent  with  itself, 
and  with  other  truth  ;  so  that  it  is  hardly  worth  the  while 
to  him,  further  to  inquire  whether  the  dean's  In-postasis  or 
his  be  better,  if  cither  be  found  imexceptionably  safe  and 
good.  But  because  the  defender  hath,  to  give  preference 
to  the  one,  misrepresented  both  with  some  appearing  dis- 
advantage to  the  cause  itself,  what  he  says  ought  to  be 
considered.  And  the  whole  matter  will  be  reduced  to 
this  twofold  inquiry  : 

1.  Whether  the  inqiiirer  hath  said  more  than  the  dean, 
or  more  ihan  is  defensible,  of  the  distinction  of  the  sacred 
three  in  the  Godhead. 

2.  Whether  the  dean  hath  said  so  much  as  the  inquirer, 
or  so  much  as  was  requisite  of  their  union. 

1.  For  the  former,  the  defender,  p.  103.  mentions  the 
dean's  notion  of  three  infinite  minds  or  spirits ;  and  makes 
the  inquirer  to  have  been  proving  three  spirits,  three  dis- 
tinct essences,  three  individual  natures,  in  the  Godhead; 
and  then  adds,  "  for  my  part,  I  cannot  tell  where  the  differ- 
ence is,  unless  it  be  in  the  term  infinite."  'Tis  indeed 
strange  the  inquirer  should  have  said  more  than  the  dean, 
if  there  were  no  difference,  unless  in  the  term  infinite, 
wherein  he  must  have  said  infinitely  less. 

But  he  at  length  apprehends  another  difference,  though 
he  after  labours  to  make  it  none,  riz.  that  the  inquirer 
disputes,  but  asserts  nothing,  and  be  fancies  he  doth  so  to 
shelter  himself  from  the  animadverter,  of  whom  he  says 
he  seems  to  be  terribly  afraid.  Here  he  puts  the  dean  into 
a  fit  of  kindness  and  good  nature,  allowing  the  inquirer  to 
partake  with  him  in  his  fears,  though  not  in  his  notions,  as 
more  sacred.  But  he  herein  understands  not  the  inquirer, 
who  if  he  had  been  so  terriblv  afraid,  could  very  easily 
have  said  nothing;  and  who  was  reallv  afraid  of  a  greater 
animadverter,  thinking  it  too  great  boldness,  under  his 


152 


A  LETTER  TO  A  FRIEND 


eye,  to  speak  confidently  of  his  own  peculiarities,  and  that 
lay  folded  up  in  so  venerable  darkness.  He  thought  it 
enough,  in  oppcsition  to  the  daring  person  (whoever  he 
was)  with  whom  he  was  concerned,  that  so  peremptorily 
pronounced  the  trinity  an  absurdity,  a  contradiction,  non- 
sense, and  an  impossibility,  to  represent  what  he  proposed 
as  possible  for  ought  he  knew. 

And  now  the  defender  will  have  the  dean  to  have  done 
no  more.  And  with  all  my  heart  let  him  have  done  no 
more,  if  he  and  his  animadverter,  and  the  rest  of  the  world, 
will  so  agree  it:  but  he  will  have  the  inquirer  to  have  done 
more,  and  to  be  much  more  exposed  to  the  charge  of  tri- 
theism,  by  asserting  three  distinct  essences,  three  Individ  ual 
natures,  and  three  spiritual  beings  in  the  Godhead.  This 
is  indeed  very  marvellous,  that  the  inquirer  should  expose 
himself  to  the  charge  of  tritheism  by  asserting  all  this, 
when  but  a  few  lines  before,  upon  the  same  page,  he  is 
said  to  have  asserted  nothing !  But  he  may  as  well  make 
the  inquirer  in  asserting  nothing  to  have  asserted  all  this, 
as  the  dean  in  asserting  all  this  to  have  asserted  nothing. 
And  where  the  inquirer  hath  said  in  express  words  that 
the  sacred  three  are  three  distinct  substances  I  can't  find. 
And  we  must  in  great  part  alter  the  common  notion  of 
substance  to  make  it  affirmable  of  God  at  all,  vi^.  that  it 
doth  substare  accidentibiis,  which  I  believe  the  dean  will 
no  more  than  the  inquirer  .suppose  the  Divine  Being  to 
admit.  But  'tis  true,  that  there  is  somewhat  more  con- 
siderable in  the  notion  of  substance,  according  whereto,  if 
the  dean  can  make  a  shift  to  avoid  the  having  of  any  in- 
convenient thing  proved  upon  him  by  consequence,  I 
hope  the  inquirer  may  find  a  way  to  escape  as  well. 

But  whereas  he  says,  the  dean  allows  but  one  divme  es- 
sence, and  one  individual  nature,  in  the  Godhead  repeated 
in  three  persons,  but  without  multiplication,  as  he  says  he 
had  already  explained  it;  this  hath  occasioned  me  to  look 
back  to  that  explanation,  and  if  he  thinks  the  allowing  but 
one  divine  essence,  and  one  individual  nature,  in  the  God- 
head, will  agree  with  what  the  dean  hath  said  in  his  vindi- 
cation, I  shall  not  envy  him,  nor  vow  go  about  to  disprove 
it.  But  I  confess  I  see  not  how  it  can  agree  with  what 
the  defender  says  in  this  his  explanation  itself,  when,  p.  23. 
he  tells  us,  the  Son  is  the  living  subsisting  image  of  the 
Father,  and  the  image  and  the  prototype  cannot  be  the 
same,  but  must  be  two.  No  man  is  his  own  image,  nor  is 
an  image  the  image  of  itself  And  he  adds,  this  is  so 
self-evident,  &c.  But  whereas  the  distinction  all  this  while 
might  be  understood  to  be  hut  modal,  and  that  appears  to 
be  the  defender's  present  (whatever  was  the  dean's  former) 
meaning,  that  the  three  subsistences  differ  only  in  their 
different  manner  of  subsisting;  yet  with  this  meaning  his 
other  words  do  little  agree,  for  he  plainly  asserts  a  real 
distinction  of  three  in  the  same  individual  numerical  na- 
ture. And  who  did  ever  make  a  real  distinction  to  be  but 
modall  More  expressly  he  had  said  before,  (p.  18.)  the 
Divine  nature  is  one  individual  nature,  but  not  one  single 
nature,  for  one  single  nature  can  be  but  one  person  whe- 
ther in  God  or  man. 

I  shall  not  here  discuss  with  him  the  criticism  upon 
which  he  lays  so  mighty  stress,  of  one  individual  nature 
and  one  single  nature,  hut  take  the  terms  he  chooses,  and 
if  the  Divine  nature  be  not  one  single  nature,  it  must  be 
double,  it  must  be  triple.  And  what  doth  this  come  to 
Jess  than  three  natures  1  unless  all  ordinary  forms  of  speech 
must  be  quite  abandoned  and  forsaken.  And  wherein 
doth  it  come  short  of  what  is  said  by  the  inquirer!  p.  141. 
"  This  iQvm  individual  must  (in  the  case  now  supposed,  as 
possible  not  as  certain)  admit  of  a  twofold  application,  either 
to  the  distinct  essence  of  the  Father,  or  of  the  Son,  or  of 
the  Holy  Ghost;  or  to  the  entire  essence  of  the  Godhead, 
in  which  these  three  do  concur.  Each  of  these  conceived 
by  itself,  are  (according  to  this  supposition)  individual  es- 
sences, but  conceived  together  they  are  the  entire  indivi- 
dual essence  of  God,  for  there  is  but  one  such  essence  and 
no  more,  and  it  can  never  be  multiplied  nor  divided  into 
more  of  the  same  name  and  nature."  Duplicity,  tripli- 
city,  are  admitted ;  simplicity  rejected.  If  simple  and 
single  be  of  the  same  signification,  where  is  the  differ- 
ence, but  that  the  one  thinks  absolute  omnimodous  simpli- 
city is  not  to  be  affirmed  of  the  Dmne  nauire,  as  lie  often 

a  Lettor,  p.  24,  SS. 


speaks :  the  other  says  downright,  it  is  not  single  or  sim- 
ple without  limitation.  The  one  denies  multiplication  of 
it,  so  doth  the  other.  The  one  indeed  speaks  positively, 
the  other  doth  but  suppose  what  he  says  as  possible,  not 
certain.  And  there  is  indeed  some  difference  between 
supposing  a  thing  as  possible  for  ought  one  knows ;  and 
affirming  it  so  po.sitively,  as  to  impute  heresy,  and  non- 
sense, to  all  gainsayers.  But  both  bring  for  proof,  the 
same  thing,  the  incarnation  ;  as  in  the  postscript,  the  de- 
fender takes  notice  the  inquirer  doth,  p.  102.  And  so  doth 
he  himself  in  his  letter,  p.  102. — "  The  Divine  nature  was 
incarnate  in  Christ,  he  was  perfect  God  and  perfect  man  ; 
and  if  there  was  but  one  single  Divine  nature  in  all  three 
persons,  this  one  single  Divine  nature  was  incarnate,  and 
therefore  the  Father  and  the  Holy  Ghost,  who  are  this  sin- 
gle Divine  nature,  as  well  as  the  Son,  must  be  as  much  in- 
carnate as  the  Son  was."  He  makes  the  contrary  absurd, 
and  brings  in  (fitly  enough)  VictorinusAfer  teaching,  that 
we  ought  not  to  say,  nor  is  it  lawful  to  say,  that  there  is  but 
one  substance,  i.  e.  as  he  paraphrases  it,  one  single  sub- 
sisting nature  (therefore  there  must  be  three  single  subsist- 
ing natures)  and  three  persons.  For  if  this  same  sub- 
stance did  and  suffered  all  (patri-passiani  et  nos)  we  must 
be  Patripassians,  which  God  forbid. 

And  what  the  defender  alleges  from  the  ancients, 
against  the  Sabellians,  allowing  only  =^  a  trinity  of  names, 
and  his  taking  the  rpoirot  v-nap^ecoi  in  the  concrete  not  in  ab- 
stract^ fully  enough  speaks  the  inquirer's  sense,  his  account- 
ing the  contrary  too  fine  and  metaphysical  for  him,  was 
what  was  writ  to  Dr.  Wallis,  (Calm  Discourse,  p.  147.) 
too  fine  or  too  little  solitl,  &c. 

In  short,  till  it  can  be  effectually  proved,  that  mind  and 
spirit  do  not  signify  somewhat  as  absolute  as  nature  or  es- 
sence, (or  rather  more  than  the  former,  which  signifies  the 
principle  of  operation  as  the  other  of  being,)  and  till  it  can 
be  as  well  proved,  that  asserting  a  thing  as  certain,  so  as 
to  pronounce  it  heresy  and  nonsense  to  think  otherwise,  is 
less  than  only  to  propose  it  as  possible,  or  inquire  whether 
it  be  so  or  no,  the  dean  must  be  judged  by  every  one  that 
understands  common  sense,  to  have  heightened  the  dis- 
tinction of  three  persons  at  least  as  much  as  the  inquirer. 
And  whether  the  inquirer  have  supposed  more  than  is  de- 
fensible against  the  defender's  objections,  will  be  considered 
by  and  by  in  its  proper  place.     In  the  meantime  let  it, 

2.  Be  examined  whether  the  dean  has  said  as  much  for 
salving  the  unity  of  the  Godhead  as  the  inquirer,  or  as 
much  as  is  requisite  to  that  purpose.  And  here  our  busi- 
ness will  be  short,  for  it  all  turns  upon  that  one  single  point, 
whether  mutual  consciou.sness  be  that  union  which  must 
be  acknowledged,  or  suppose  it  only.  For  which  we  need 
only  appeal  to  common  reason,  whether  being  do  not  in 
the  natural  order  precede  even  the  power  of  working;  and 
consequently  whether  being  united  vitally,  precede  not  the 
possibility  of  acting  agreeably  to  that  united  state:  where- 
upon the  inquiry  is  not  concerning  actual  conscience  only, 
but  (as  he  speaks)  consciousness.  Is  it  possible  any  three 
persons  or  intelligent  subsistences,  should  naturally  have 
vital  perception  of  each  other's  internal  motions  and  sen- 
sations, without  being  vitally  preunited  1  I  say  naturally, 
for  that  God  might  give  to  three  created  spirits  a  temporary 
perception  of  each  other  without  bringing  them  into  a  stated 
union  each  with  other,  is  little  to  be  doubted;  as  a  spirit 
may  assume  a  body  and  animate  it  pro  tempore  without 
being  substantially  united  with  it.  And  if  that  body  were 
also  a  spirit,  they  might  7;ro  tevipore,  for  ought  we  know,  by 
extraordinary  divine  disposition  (for  within  the  ordinary 
course  of  nature  we  know  of  no  such  intimacy  of  created 
spirits  to  another)  be  quasi  anima:  to  one  another.  But  if 
naturally  they  were  so  to  mingle  and  transfuse  sensations 
mutually  into  each  other,  they  must  be  naturally,  first,  in 
vital  union  with  one  another.  Nor  therefore  did  the  in- 
quirer mistake  the  dean's  notion  as  the  defender  fancies 
in  the  passage  he  quotes,  p.  104,  as  if  he  took  mutual  con- 
sciousness for  mere  mutual  perspection.  For  though  scire 
abstractedly  taken,  doth  not  signify  more  than  perspicere, 
yet  the  inquirer  in  that  passage,  speaking  of  a  never  so  per- 
fect mutual  perspection,  properly  enough  expressed  there- 
by as  great  a  feeling  such  spirits  were  supposed  lo  have  ol 
each  other,  in  themselves,  as  mutual  consciousness  is  apt 


CONCERNING  THE  POSTSCRIPT,  &c. 


to  sigaily,  or  as  the  dean  can  yet  be  supposed  to  have 
meant,  that  perspection  being  more  perfect  which  produces 
gusts  and  relishes  suitable  to  the  object,  than  that  which 
stays  in  mere  speculation  only. 

And  upon  the  whole,  it  seems  very  strange  the  defender 
should  say.  "  If  such  an  internal,  vital  sensation,  be  not  an 
essential  union,  he  believes  no  man  can  tell  what  it  is." 
For  how  can  such  adiuil  sensation  be  imagined  to  be  u7iion? 
As  well  might  the  use  of  sense  itself  (speaking  of  any  thing 
singly  to  which  it  belongs)  be  said  to  be  constituent  form, 
or  (consequently)  the  doing  any  thing  that  proceeds  from 
reason,  to  be  the  form  of  a  man.  So  the  writing  a  book, 
should  be  the  author.  And  whereas  he  says,  "  it  is  certain 
the  dean  took  it  to  be  so,  and  therefore  he  did  not  leave 
out  a  natural  eternal  union;"  it  follows,  indeed,  that  he  did 
not  leave  it  out,  in  his  mind  and  design,  but  he  neveriheless 
left  it  out  of  his  book,  and  therefore  said  not  enough  there 
to  salve  the  unity  of  the  Godhead,  but  ought  to  have  insist- 
ed upon  somewhat  prior  to  mutual  consciousness,  as  con- 
stituent of  that  unity,  and  which  might  make  the  three 
one,  and  not  merely  argue  them  to  be  so. 

But  now  (p.  105)  he  comes  to  find  as  great  fault  with 
the  inquirer's  way  of  maintaining  this  unity,  and  because 
he  is  resolved  to  dislike  it,  if  he  can't  find  it  faulty,  sets 
himself  to  make  it  so.  The  temper  of  mind  wherewith  he 
writes  to  this  purpose  what  follows,  (p.  105.)  and  onwards 
to  the  end,  so  soon  and  so  constantly  shows  itself,  that  no 
man  whose  mind  is  not  in  the  same  disorder  will  upon 
trial  apprehend  any  thing  in  it,  but  such  heat  as  dwells  in 
darkness.  And  he  himself  hath  given  the  document, 
which  may  be  a  measure  to  any  apprehensive  reader  :i< 
"  True  divine  wisdom  rests  not  on  an  illnatured  and  per- 
verse spirit;"  I  understand  it,  "  while  the  ill  fit  lasts."  But 
'lis  strange  he  could  write  those  words  without  any  self- 
reflection. 

The  thing  to  be  revenged  is,  that  the  inquirer  did  freely 
speak  his  thoughts,  wherein  he  judged  the  dean's  Ay^o/iie.si's 
defective,  his  not  taking  notice  of  what  he  reckoned  natu- 
rally antecedent  and  fundamental  to  mutual  con.sciousness: 
a  most  intimate,  natural,  necessary,  eternal  union  of  the 
sacred  three.  If  the  inquirer  spake  sincerely,  as  he  under- 
stood the  matter,  and  him,  and  it  evidently  appear  the  de- 
fender did  not  so,  I  only  say  the  wronged  person  hath 
much  the  advantage,  and  wishes  him  no  other  harm,  than 
such  gentle  regrets,  as  are  necessary  to  set  him  right  with 
himself,  and  his  higher  Judge.  He  says,  he  (the inquirei) 
represents  this  unity  by  the  union  of  soul  and  bod}'^,  and 
by  the  union  of  the  Divine  and  human  nature,  &c. 

'Tis  true,  he  partly  doth  so,  but  more  fully  by  the  (sup- 
posed union  of)  three  created  spirits;  (to  which  he  that  will 
may  see,  he  only  makes  them  a  lower  step;)  and  he  says, 
(with  respect  especially  to  the  former  of  these,)  "  That  a 
union  supposable  to  be  originally,  eternally,  and  by  natu- 
ral necessity  in  the  most  perfect  Being,  is  to  be  thouglit 
imexpressibly  more  perfect  than  any  other."  But  (he  adds) 
"  these  are  personal  imions,  and  therefore  cannot  be  the 
union  of  the  Godhead."  And  he  very  well  knew  (for  he 
had  but  little  before  cited  the  passage)  that  the  inquirer 
never  intended  them  so,  but  only  to  represent  that  the 
union  of  the  three  in  the  Godhead,  could  not  be  reasonably 
thought  less  possible. 

What  he  further  adds  is  much  stranger,  (and  yet  herein  I 
am  resolved  to  put  charity  towards  him  to  the  utmost 
stretch,  as  he  professes  to  have  done  his  understanding,) 
for  he  says — as  far  as  he  can  possibly  understand,  and  that 
he  should  be  glad  to  be  better  informed,  though  there  is 
some  reason  to  apprehend  that  former  displeasure  darkened 
his  understanding,  (and  even  dimmed  his  eye-sight,)  which 
yet  I  hope  hath  its  more  lucid  intervals,  and  that  this  dis- 
temper is  not  a  fixed  habit  with  him.  And  what  is  it  now 
that  he  cannot  possibly  understand  otherwise  1 — that  no 
other  union  will  satisfy  him  {viz.  the  inquirer)  but  such  a 
union  of  three  spiritual  beings  and  individual  natures  as 
b)^  their  composition  constitute  the  Godhead,  as  the  com- 
position of  soul  and  body  do  the  man ;  i.  e.  he  cannot 
understand  but  he  means  what  he  expressly  denies.  Who 
can  help  so  cross  an  understanding"?  If  he  had  not  had 
his  very  finger  upon  the  place  where  the  inquirer  says"^  in 
express  words,  "  I  peremptorily  deny  all  composition  in 
b  Sec  his  letter,  p.  1.  e  Ca.!m  Discmirie. 


153 

the  being  of  God,"  this  had  been  more  excusable  ;  besides 
much  said  to  the  same  purposed  elsewhere.     It  had  been 
ingenuous  in  any  man  not  to  impute  that  to  another,  as  his 
lueaning,  which  in  the  plainest  terms  he  dLsavows,  as  none 
of  his  meaning :  and  it  had  been  prudent  m  the  dean  Cor  of 
his  defender)  of  all  mankind  not  to  have  done  so  in  the  pre- 
sent case,  as  will  further  be  seen  in  due  time.  But  he  takes  it 
for  an  affront,  when  he  fancies  a  man  to  come  too  near  him. 
He  adds,  "  for  this  reason  he  disputes  earnest!}  against 
the  universal,  absolute,   omnimodous  simplicity   of  the 
Divine  nature,  and  will  not  allow  that  wisdom,  power  and 
goodness,  are  the  same  thing  in  God,  and  distinguished 
into  different  conceptions  by  us,  only  through  the  weak- 
ness of  our  understandings,  which  cannot  comprehend  an 
infinite  Being  in  one  thought,  and  therefore  must,  as  well 
as  we  can,  contemplate  him  by  parts."     I  know  not  what 
he  means  by  earnestly,  the  matter  was  weighty,  and  it  is 
true.     He  was  in  writing  about  it  in  no  disjjosition  to  jest. 
But  it's  said,  "he  disputed  against  the  universal,  absolute^ 
omnimodous   simplicity   of  the  Divine  nature."     I  hope 
the  defender  in  this  rneajis  honestly,  but  he  speaks  very 
improperly,  for  it  supposes  him  to  think  that  the  universal, 
absolute,  omnimodous  simplicity,    so  earnestly  disputed 
against,  did  really  belong  to  the  Divine  nature  ;  but  I  can 
scarce  believe  him  to  think  so,  and  therefore  he  should 
have  said,  his  disputation  tended  to  prove  it  not  lo  belong. 
If  he  {viz.  the  defender,  or  the  dean)  did  really  think  it 
did,  they^  or  he,  must  be  very  singular  in  that  sentiment, 
I  would  have  them  name  me  the  man  that  ever  laid  do-wn 
and  asserted  such  a  po>i(ion.     Some  I  know  have  said  of 
that  sacied  Being,  that  it  is  summe  simpler,  or  more  simple 
than  any  thing  else;  but  that  imports  not  universal,  abso- 
lute, omnimodous  simplicity,  which  is  impossible  to  be  s. 
perfection,  or  therefore  to  belong  to  the  Divine  nature.  No 
man  that  ever   acknowledged  a  trinity-  of  persons  even 
modally  distinguished,  could  ever  pretend  it,  for  such  sim- 
plicity excludes  all  modes.    Nay,  the  antitrinitarians  them- 
selves can  never  be  for  it,  as  the  Calm  Discourse  hath 
shown.     And  if  the  dean  be,  he  is  gone  into  the  remotest 
extreme  from  what  he  held  (and  plainly  enough  seems  still 
to  hold)  that  ever  man  of  sense  did. 

But  for  what  is  added,  that  he  "  will  not  allow  that  v%is- 
dom,  power,  and  goodness,  are  the  same  thing  in  God:" 
this  is  not  faiil}^  said,  civility  allows  me  not  to  say,  untrul}-. 
There  is  no  word  in  the  place  he  cites,  nor  any  where  in 
that  book,  that  signifies  not  allowing;  'tis  intimated  we  are 
not  instructed  "  by  the  Scripture  to  conceive  of  the  Divine 
nature,  as,  in  every  respect,  most  absolutely  simple,"  or 
that  power,  wisdom,  goodness  in  the  abstract,  are  the  snme 
thing,  and  that  our  difficulty  is  great  to  apprehend  tJiem 
really  undistinguishable.  And  let  me  serio\isly  a.-ik  him- 
.sclf.  doth  he  in  good  earnest  think  it  is  only  through  the 
weakness  of  our  understandings  that  we  distinguish  the 
notions  of  the  Divine  wisdom,  power,  and  goodness?  Cer- 
tainly it  were  great  weakness  of  understanding  to  define 
them  alike.  I  believe  he  never  met  Miih  the  wri'er  yet 
thai  distinguished  them  less,  than  ratione  ratiocim'.ta  In 
contradistinction  to  ratiocinmile,  which  implies  somewhat 
corresponding  to  our  distinct  norions  of  them  (eminently 
and  not  formally)  in  iiatura  rei. 

And  whereas  he  further  says,  "This  prepared  his  wnv 
to  make  goodness,  wisdom,  power, — a  natural  trinitA-  in 
unity,"  herein  the  defender  is  mistaken.  This  is  not  the 
trinitij  which  the  inquirer's  discourse  was  ever  intended  to 
terminate  in,  as  he  himself  hath  expressly  said,  and  the 
defender  takes  notice  of  it;  which  makes  me  wonder  how 
he  could  think  it  v^-tis  so  intended.citing  the  very  passage,' 
where  the  inquirer  "professes  not  to  judge,  that  we  ai^ 
under  the  precise  notions  of  power,  -wisdom,  and  goodness, 
to  conceive  of  the  Father,  Son,  and  Hoh-  Ghost."  But 
why  then  were  these  three  so  much  discoursed  of  before? 
They  are  three  most  celebrated  di\ane  attributes,  wherein 
we  have  our  most  immediate  and  very  principal  concern. 
And  some  have  thought  the  trinity  was  most  fitly  to  be 
conceived  by  them.  The  inquirer  did  not  think  so  :  but  he 
thought,  first,  it  would  be  requisite  to  have  our  minds  dis- 
entangled from  any  apprehended  necessity  of  conceiving 
them  to  be  in  all  respects  the  very  same  things;  nor  are 
they  the  very  same,  if  they  be  so  "distinguished,  as  Ls  ex- 
d  Calm  Disroiitse.  e  Calm  Dneoune. 


154 


A  LETTER  TO  A  FRIEND 


pressed  in  the  sixteenth  of  the  summary  propositions-/ 
where  also  they  are  each  of  them  said  to  be  common  to 
Father  Son  and  Holy  Ghost,  whence  therefore  it  is  im- 
possible they  should  be  thought  to  distinguish  Father, 
Son,  and  Holy  Ghost.  But  that  some  distinction  being 
adm'itted  even  of  them,  this  might  facilitate  to  us  our  con- 
ception of  the  greater  distinction  which  must  be,  of  Father, 
Son,  and  Spirit,  as  is  expressed  p.  140.  Indeed  he  did  not 
think  fit  to  interrupt  his  discourse  by  staying  to  show 
reasons  why  he  did  not  rest  in  that  account  alone  of  the 
trinity,  though  it  might  seem  plausible,  or  not  absurd,  but 
proceeded  further  to  what  was  more  satisfying  to  himself, 
and  might  be  so  to  other  men.  And  (as  the  intervening 
series  of  his  discourse  leads  thereto)  this  is  more  directly 
done,  &c.  especially  where  he  comes  to  speak  of  the  ne- 
cessary coexistence,  and  the  (as  necessary  and  natural) 
order  of  the  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit,  towards  each  other. 
The  second  being,  not  by  any  intervening  act  of  will,  but 
by  necessary  eternal  promanalion,  from  the  first,  and  the 
third  from  both.  And  the  true  reason  why  power,  wisdom, 
and  goodness,  were  not  thought  expressive  of  the  distinc- 
tion of  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit,  but  common  to  each  of 
them  (as  is  said,  Summary  Prop.  16.)  was,  that  the  two 
latter  cannot  but  be  necessary  emanations,  most  connatural 
to  their  original,  as  is  truly  suggested  by  the  defender,  p.  HI. 
If  you  object,  (as  the  defender  brings  in  the  inquirer 
saying,)  That  this  gives  us  the  notion  of  a  compounded 
Deity,  &c.  this,  i.  e.  the  supposition  that  absolute  omni- 
modous  simplicity  belongs  not  to  it,  is  the  thing  which 
may  be  thought  to  give  us  this  notion.  And  he  tells  us, 
he  (the  inquirer)  answers  this  difficulty,  by  giving  us  a 
new  notion  of  a  composituni.  And  what 's  that  which  he 
calls  a  new  notion  1  That  a  compositum  seems  to  imply  pre- 
existing component,  that  brings  such  things  together;  and 
supposes  such  and  such  more  simple  things  to  have  pre- 
existed apart,  or  separate,  and  to  be  brought  afterwards 
together  into  a  united  state. 

And  indeed  is  this  a  new  notion  1  as  new  as  the  creation  ? 
Let  him  show  me  an  instance  through  the  whole  created 
universe  of  beings,  (and  for  the  uncreated  being  the  de- 
fender (now  at  this  time)  disputes  against  any  composition 
there,  und  the  inquirer  denies  any,)  first,  where  there  hath 
been  a  composituvi  without  a  pre-existing  component,  or 
next,  the  compounded  parts  whereof,  if  substantial,  did  not 
in  order  of  nature  pre-exist  separate ;  i.  e.  whether  esse 
simplidter,  do  not  naturally  precede  esse  tale,  or  which  is  all 
one,  to  our  present  purpose,  whether  they  were  not  capable 
hereof  if  the  Creator  pleased.  Let  any  man,  I  say,  tell  me 
where  was  there  ever  a.co7nposituni  made  by  substantial  union 
that  did  not  consist  of  once  separate  or  of  separable  parts. 

But  note  his  admirable  following  supposition,  that  is  to 
say,  That  if  a  man,  suppose,  who  consists  of  body  and  soul, 
had  been  from  eternity,  without  a  maker,  and  his  soul  and 
body  had  never  subsisted  apart,  he  could  not  have  been 
said  to  have  been  a  compounded  creature  1  This  is  said 
with  design  most  groundlessly  (as  we  shall  see)  to  fasten 
an  absurd  consequence  upon  the  inquirer,  and  see  how  it 
lucks.  Did  ever  any  man  undertake  to  reprove  an  absur- 
dity with  greater  absurdity  1  A  creature  without  a  maker ! 
what  sort  of  creature  must  this  be  1  We  have  a  pretty  say- 
ing quoted  in  the  defender's  letter;  He  that  writes  lies 
down ;  and  we  are  apt  enough  too,  when  we  write,  to  trip 
and  fall  down,  and  ought  in  such  cases  to  be  merciful  to 
one  another,  even  though  he  that  falls  should  be  in  no 
danger  of  hurting  his  forehead,  much  more  if  he  be.  What 
was  another  man's  turn  now,  may  be  mine  next. 

But  let  the  supposition  proceed,  and  put  we  being  in- 
stead of  creature,  which  no  doubt  was  the  defender's  mean- 
ing, for  creature  he  must  needs  know  it  could  not  be  that 
had  no  maker.  And  what  then  1  "  Why  he  should  not" 
(says  he)  '"  have  been  said  to  be  compounded,  though  he 
would  have  had  the  same  parts  that  he  has  now."  We 
have  here  a  self-confounding  supposition,  which  having 
done  that  first,  cannot  hurt  him  whom  it  was  designed  to 
confound,  being  taken  in  season.  Grant  one,  and  you 
grant  a  thousand.  A  being  made  up  of  a  soul  and  a  bod)'', 
is  so  imperfect  an  entity,  as  could  not  be  of  itself  Nothing 
is  of  itself  which  is  not  absolutely  perfect.  If  he  mind  to 
disprove  this,  let  him  try  his  faculty  when  he  pleases  against 

f  Calm  Discourse. 


it,  and  (which  I  sincerely  believe  he  never  intends)  toge- 
ther with  it,  against  all  religion.  But  besides,  he  hath 
destroyed  his  own  supposition  himself  (to  put  us  out  of 
that  danger)  by  saying  in  plain  words,  p.  10.  ''  We  have 
no  notion  of  an  eternal  and  necessary  existence,  but  in  an 
absolute  perfect  and  infinite  nature."  Now  say  I,  what  is 
so  perfect,  and  hath  whatever  belongs  to  it  necessarily, 
though  distinguishable  things  belong  to  it,  hath  no  parts; 
for  what  are  parts,  but  such  things  as  can  be  parted  1  Such 
things  as  never  were  parted,  and  never  can  be,  (as 'tis  non- 
sense to  talk  of  those  things  being  parted  that  are  united 
necessarily,  and  of  themselves,)  are  no  parts,  if  partiri, 
whence  they  are  so  called,  must  not  (and  herein  he  cannot 
so  fool  the  whole  Christian  world,  as  to  make  it  concur  wiih 
him)  lose  its  signification  to  serve  a  turn.  Though  the 
things  be  real,  their  partibility  is  not  real.  If  any  indeed 
will  call  them  parts,  because  they  may  be  conceived  or  con- 
templated apart,  as  parts  merely  conceptible  are  no  preju- 
dice to  the  perfection  of  the  Divine  Being,  so  are  such 
conceivable  parts  acknowledged  by  this  author  himself  in 
express  words ;?  "  we  cannot  comprehend  an  infinite 
Being  in  one  thought,  and  therefore  must  as  well  as  we 
can  contemplate  him  by  parts."  God  can  as  little  admit 
to  be  a  part  of  any  thing,  as  to  have  any  thing  a  part  of 
him.  And  yet  'tis  no  prejudice  to  the  dignity  and  perfec- 
tion of  his  being,  to  conceive  of  him  conjunctly  with  other 
things,  as  when  we  make  him  depart  (subject  or  predicate) 
of  a  proposition.  All  his  disputation  therefore  against 
parts  and  composition  in  the  Deity,  is  against  a  figment, 
or  no  present  adversary.  For  my  part  I  am  of  his  mind, 
and  I  should  be  obliged  to  thank  him  that  this  once  he 
vouchsafes  to  let  me  be  on  his  side,  when  he  knows  I  am, 
if  he  did  not  take  so  A'ast  pains  to  make  others  not  know 
it.  How  hard  a  thing  is  it  for  an  angry  man  (especially 
when  he  knows  not  wh\')  to  write  with  a  sincere  mind. 

But  hath  he  in  all  this  fervent  bluster  a  present  concern 
at  this  time  for  the  honour  of  the  Divine  Being,  (as  God 
forbid  I  should  think  he  never  hath,)  what  is  that  he  sup- 
poses injurious  to  it  %  Is  it  the  words,  parts  and  compounds  1 
or  is  it  the  things  supposed  to  be  united  in  the  Divine 
Being  1  The  words  he  knows  to  be  his  own,  and  let  him 
dispose  of  them  more  ineptly  if  he  can  tell  how :  parts 
that  were  never  put  together,  never  parted,  nor  ever  shall 
be  the  one  or  other  ;  i.  e.  that  never  were  or  will  be  parts, 
and  a  compound  of  such  parts !  But  now  for  the  things 
upon  which  he  would  obtrude  these  words, — three  essences, 
natures,  (or  if  you  please,  infinite  minds  or  spirits,)  sig- 
nified by  the  names  of  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  m 
eternal  union,  but  distinct  in  the  being  of  God. — Let  us 
consider  his  disputation  against  them  united,  or  in  union, 
according  to  its  double  aspect:  First,  upon  the  hypothesis 
or  supposition  of  them :  Secondly,  upon  himself. 

First,  Consider  his  disputation  as  levelled  against  the 
hypothesis  or  supposition  of  such  distinct  essences,  na- 
tures, minds,  spirits,  in  necessary,  eternal  union  in  the 
Divine  Being.  And  one  of  his  arguments  against  it  is  in 
those  words  of  his :  One  principal  argument  against  it  (here 
put  out  parts  and  composition  which  are  his  own,  and  we 
have  no  more  to  do  with  them)  is,  that  God  is  eternal  and 
unmade,  and  whatsoever  hath  parts,  (says  he,)  hath  such 
essences  in  it,  must  have  a  maker.  And  here  let  him  prove 
his  consequence,  and  his  business  is  done,  viz.  both  ways, 
as  will  be  seen  by  and  by.  But  let  him  show  the  incon- 
sistency between  a  thing's  having  such  distinct  essences 
naturally  and  necessarily  united  in  it,  (as  the  supposition 
to  be  argued  against  is,  and  before  ought  to  have  been 
justly  stated,)  and  it's  being  eternal  and  unmade.  But  how 
that  is  to  be  evinced  I  cannot  so  much  as  guess ;  con- 
fident afl[irmation,  against  the  most  obvious  tenor  of  God's 
own  word,  is  of  little  account.  Who  shall  ascend  into  the 
heavens'?  or  fathom  the  depths'?  or  can  have  that  perspec- 
tion  of  God's  incomprehensible  nature,  as  without  (and 
visibly  against)  his  own  revelation  to  be  able,  without  great 
rashness,  to  pronounce  .so  concerning  him'?  Butsotoyishan 
argument  as  here  follows,  is  worse  than  the  position  ;  i.  e. 
when  one  shall  say,  that  for  ought  we  know  there  may  be 
three  distinct  essences  by  an  eternal  unmade  union,  united 
into  one,  in  the  being  of  God  ;  any  man  should  say,  and 
be  so  vain  as  to  expect  to  be  regarded,  that  because  they 
g  His  Letter,  p.  105. 


CONCERNING  THE  POSTSCRIPT,  &c. 


155 


are  united  by  an  eternal  and  unmade  union,  therefore  they 
are  not  united  by  an  eternal  and  natural  luiion  !  If  there 
be  not  a  contradiction  in  the  terms  to  disprove  a  thing,  by 
itself,  is  to  say  nothing,  or  is  all  one  with  proving  a  thing 
by  itself.  He  proceeds,  to  what  hath  nothing  in  it  like  an 
argument,  but  against  its  own  conceit  of  parts,  and  that 
very  trifling  too  :  "  There  can  be  but  one  eternal  nature 
in  God;  but  if  there  be  three — there  must  be  three."  This 
'tis  now  come  to,  proving  his  point  by  itself  Here  he 
makes  sure  work  to  have  nothing  denied,  but  then  nothing 
is  proved,  no  advance  is  made;  if  there  be  three,  there 
must  be  three.  But  if  there  be  three  what  ?  eternal  parts  ? 
there  must  be  three  different  natures,  or  else  they 


would  be  the  same.  (What!  though  distinct?)  But  this 
supposes  somebody  said  the  lir.st ;  and  who  1  himself; 
therefore  he  is  disproving  himself  If  I  had  said  so,  I 
would  have  denied  his  consequence,  far  there  may  be  simi- 
lar parts;  whereas  by  different,  he  seems  to  mean  dis- 
similar. He  says,  "  not  only  distinct,  but  different  natures." 
Now  j'ou  have  that  wonderful  thing  talked  of  sometimes, 
but  never  brought  to  view  before,  a  di.stinction  without  a 
difl"erence.  'Tis  strange  how  an}-  things  should  be  dis- 
tinct, and  no  way  different.  What  distinguishes  them  if 
they  differ  by  nothing  1  This  different,  applied  to  this  pre- 
sent case,  is  his  own  word,  coined  to  introduce  a  notion 
that  is  not  new  to  Christians  only,  but  to  all  mankind.  If 
by  different  natures  he  means  (as  he  seems)  of  a  different 
kind,  who  thought  of  such  a  difference  1  But  I  trow, 
things  that  differ  in  number,  do  as  truly  differ,  (however 
essentially  cohering,)  though  not  so  widely. 

His  next  is,  that  though  we  have  a  natural  notion  of  an 
eternal  Being,  we  have  no  notion  of  three  eternal  essences 
(which  again  I  put  instead  of  his  parts)  which  necessarily' 
coexist  in  an  eternal  union.  Doth  he  mean  we  are  to  dis- 
believe every  thing  of  God  whereof  we  have  not  a  natural 
notion  '?  Then  to  what  purpose  is  a  divine  revelation  1  Is 
this  notion  of  God  pretended  to  be  naturaH  'Tis  enough, 
if  such  a  notion  be  most  favoured  by  his  own  revelation, 
who  best  understands  his  own  nature,  and  theie  be  not 
evident  natural  notion  against  it.  He  forgot  tliat  he  had 
said,  (Defence,  p.  5.)  "  If  every  thing  which  we  have  no 
positive  idea  of  must  be  allowed  to  contradict  reason,  we 
shall  find  contradictions  enough ;"  adding,  "  We  must  con- 
fess a  great  many  things  to  be  true,  which  we  have  no  idea 
of,"  &c.  He  adds,  "  Once  more,  we  have  no  notion  of  an 
eternal  and  necessary  existence,  but  in  an  absolutely  per- 
fect and  infinite  nature,  but  if  there  be"  (I  here  again  leave 
out  his  three  parts,  because  I  design  to  consider  if  there  be 
any  thing  of  strength  brought  against  what  was  supposed 
possible  by  the  inquirer,  not  against  his  fiction,  which  I 
trouble  not  myself  any  further  with)  "  three  spiritual  beings 
— neither  of  them  can  be  absolutel}^  perfect  and  infinite," 
(I  would  rather  have  said  none,  or  no  one,  than  neither, 
since  the  discourse  is  of  more  than  two.  I  thought  the 
meaning  of  uter  and  nevler  had  being  agreed  long  ago,) 
"  though  we  could  suppose  their  union  to  make  such  a  per- 
fect Being,  because  they  are  not  the  same,  and  (neither)  no 
one  of  them  is  the  whole,"  &c. 

This  is  the  only  thing  that  ever  came  under  my  notice 
among  the  school-men,  that  hath  any  appearing  strength 
in  it,  against  the  hypothesis  which  I  have  proposed  as 
possible  for  ought  I  knew.  They  generally  dispute  against 
many  sorts  of  compositions  in  the  being  of  God,  which  I 
am  not  concerned  in:  that  of  matter  and  form,  which  is 
alien  from  this  affair;  of  quantitative  parts,  which  is  as 
alien:  of  subject  and  accident,  which  touches  us  not;  of 
act  and  power,  which  doth  it  as  little:  each  suhsistent, 
being  eternally  in  utmost  actuality.  And  by  sundry  sorts 
and  methods  of  argument,  whereof  only  this  can  seem  to 
signify  any  thing  against  the  present  supposition.  And  it 
wholly  resolves  into  the  notion  of  infinity,  about  which  I 
g^enerally  spoke  my  sense  in  that  first  h  Letter  to  Dr. 
"VVallis.  And  as  I  there  intimated  how  much  easier  it  is 
to  puzzle  another  upon  that  subject  than  to  satisfy  oneself, 
so  I  here  say,  that  I  doubt  not  to  give  any  man  as  much 
trouble  about  it  in  respect  of  quantitative  extension,  as  he 
can  me,  in  this.  I  think  it  demonstrable,  that  one  Infinite 
can  never  be  from  another  by  voluntarv  production,  that 
^t  cannot  by  necessary  emanation,  I  think  not  so.     In  the 

h  Seo Calm  Discourse.         i  Ibid.         k  Hi«  Letter,  p.  5.  I  Calm  Disc, 


meantime,  when  we  are  told  so  plainlv  bv  the  divine  ora- 
cles, of  a  sacred  three,  that  are  each  of'  them  God,  and  of 
some  one  whereof  some  things  are  spoken  that  are  not  nor 
can  be  of  the  others ;  I  think  it  easier  to  count  three  than 
to  determme  of  mfiniteness  :  and  accordingly  to  form  one's 
belief  But  of  this  more  when  we  come  to  compare  him 
with  himself  ■  And  for  what  he  discourses  of  the  aspect 
this  supposition  hath  upon  the  Trinity,  and  the  Homo- 
ousion  ;  it  all  proceeds  still  upon  his  own  fiction  of  parts, 
and  upon  the  invidious  straining  of  thai  similitude  of  the 
union  of  soul  and  body,  as  he  himself  doth  tanhim  non  con- 
fess; except  that  he  lessens  it  by  saying  most  untruly  (hat 
he  (the  inquirer")  doth  expressly  own  the  consequence. 
Therefore  if  he  do  not  own  the  consequence,  then  the  de- 
fender confesses  himself  to  have  invidiously  devised  it. 
And  what  is  it  1  That  if  all  three  by  this  composition  are 
but  one  God,  neither  of  them  by  himself  is  true  and  perfect 
God.  The  divinity  is  like  the  English  ;  biu  both  his  own. 
The  inquirer  denies  both  antecedent  (which  he  knows) 
and  consequent  too.  Leave  out,  by  this  composition,  (his 
own  figinen!,)  and  his  argument  as  much  disproves  any 
trinity  at  all  as  it  doth  the  present  hypothesis. 

But  wherein  doth  the  inquirer  own  it  ?  because  such  a 
similitude  is  used  (as  'lis  often  in  that  discourse)  of  the 
union  between  soul  and  bod)',  (declared  elsewhere  to  be  un- 
expresslj'  defective,)  that  therefore  the  Father,  Son,  and 
Holy  Ghost,  are  each  of  them  by  himself  no  more  truly 
Lord  or  God,  according  to  the  Athanasian  creed,  or  other- 
wise than  in  as  improper  a  sense,  as  the  body  of  a  man, 
excluding  the  soul,  is  a  man,  or  a  human  pei-son.  Or  as 
if  Deity  were  no  more  i-n  one  of  the  persons,  than  huiiianity 
in  a  carcass !  Who  that  looks  upon  all  this  with  equal  eye-s, 
but  will  rather  choose  as  doubtful  a  notion,  than  so  ap- 
parently ill  a  spiiit7  Are  similitudes  ever  wont  to  be 
alike  throughout,  to  what  they  are  brought  to  illusirate  ? 
It  might  as  well  be  said,  becaiL<;e  he  mentions  with  appro- 
bation such  as  illustrate  the  doctrine  of  the  trinity  by  a 
tree  and  its  branches,  that,  therefore,  there  we  are  to  expect 
leaves  and  blo.ssoms.  Is  it  strange  the  -created  universe 
should  not  afford  us  an  exact  representation  of  uncreated 
Being  1  How  could  he  but  think  of  that ;  "  To  whom  do 
ye  liken  mel"  At  least  one  would  have  thought  he 
should  not  have  forgot  what  he  had  so  lately  said  himself  k 
We  must  grant  we  have  no  perfect  example  of  any  a^ich 
union  in  nature.  What  appetite  in  him  is  it,  that  now 
seeks  what  nature  doth  not  afford  ?  A  very  unnatural  one, 
we  mav  conclude.  'Twere  trifling  to  repeat  what  was 
said,  and  was  so  plain,  before,  that  the  union  between  soul 
and  body  was  never  brought  to  illustrate  personal  unioa 
but  essential.  The  former  is  here  imagined  without  pre- 
tence, there  being  no  mention  or  occasion  for  the  mention- 
ing of  persons  in  the  place  he  allege.--,  i  But  to  make  out 
his  violent  consequence  he  foists  in  a  supposition,  that 
never  came  into  any  man's  imagination  but  a  Socinian's 
and  his  own : — ^(which  I  say,  contradistinguishing  him  to 
them,  that  the  matter  may  (a.s  it  ought)  appear  the  more 
strange.  •")  If  God  be  a  person,  he  can  be  but  one.  Is 
God  the  appropriate  name  of  a  person?  then  indeed  there 
will  be  but  one  person;  but  who  here  says  so  bin  himself? 
The  name  of  God  is  the  name  of  the  essence,  not  the  distin- 
guishing name  of  a  person.  But  if  three  intelligent  natures 
be  united  in  one  Deiiy,  each  will  be  persons,  and  each 
will  be  God,  and  all  will  be  one  God  ;  not  by  parts,  other 
than  conceptible,  undivided,  and  inseparable,  as  the  soul 
and  body  of  a  man  are  not.  Which  sufhciently  conserves 
the  Christian  trinity  fiom  such  furious  and  impotent  at- 
tacks as  these.  And  the  homo-ausiotcs  is  most  entirely 
conserved  too:  for  what  are  three  spiritual  natures  no 
more  the  same,  than  (as  he  grossly  speaks)  the  soul  and 
bodv  are  ?  no  more  than  an  intelligent  mind,  and  a  piece 
of  clay  1  Bv  M-hat  consequence  is  this  said,  from  any  thing 
in  the  inquirer's  hypothesis'?  Whereas  also  he  expressly 
insists,  n  that  the  Father,  as  Fons  trinitatis.  is  first,  the  Son 
of  the  Father,  the  Holy  Ghost  from  both.  Is  not  the  water 
in  the  streams  the  same  that  was  in  the  fountain  1  and  are 
not  the  °  several  attributes  eypressly  spolcen  of  a.s  common 
to  these  three"?  Essential  power,  wisdom,  goodness, 
(which  are  denied  to  be  the  p  ecise  notions  of  Father,  Son. 
and  Spirit,)  said  by  more  tha  n  a  ^sfUKC^pian,  as  that  may  be 

m  His  Letter  r  V.i.  I  Olm  Disr.  o  Ibid. 


156 


A  LETTER  TO  A  FRIEND 


understood  to  signify,  mere  presence,  (how  intimate  soever,) 
but  by  real  vital  union,  as  much  as  each  one's,  as  any 
one's?  and  all  other  conceivable  perfections  besides!  Why 
were  these  words  read  with  eyes  refusing  their  office,  to 
let  them  into  the  reader's  mind  1  whence  also  how  fabu- 
lous is  the  talk  of  p  power  begetting  wisdom,  &c.  against 
what  is  so  plainly  saidi  of  the  order  of  priority  oxiA  pos- 
teriority, &c. 

There  had  been  some  prudence  seen  in  all  this  conduct, 
if  the  defender  could  have  taken  effectual  care,  that  every 
thing  should  have  been  blotted  out  of  all  the  copies  of  that 
discourse,  but  what  he  would  have  thought  fit  to  be  per- 
mitted to  tlie  view  of  other  eyes  than  his  own.  For  then, 
though  in  so  gross  prevarication  he  had  not  preserved  his 
innocency,  he  might  have  saved  in  some  degree  his  reputa- 
tion. Yet  also  he  should  have  taken  some  heed  that  anger 
might  not  so  have  discoloured  his  eye,  as  to  make  so  inju- 
dicious a  choice  what  to  confess  and  what  to  conceal.  For 
had  he  not  himself  blabbed,  that  it  was  said,  we  are  not 
under  the  precise  notions  of  power,  v.'isdom  and  goodness, 
to  conceive  of  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost ;  he  might 
more  plausibly  have  formed  his  odd  births,  and  fathered 
them  where  he  dolh.  But  wrath  indulged  will  show  its 
governing  pow'er.  And  all  this  fury  and  vengeance  (upon 
the  inquirer,  and  the  dean  too)  he  reckoned  was  due,  only 
because  it  was  so  presumptuously  thought,  that  somewhat 
in  his  hypothesis  (or  which  he  defends)  might  have  been 
better,  and  that  he  (probably)  sees  it  might;  so  much  a 
greater  thing  (in  some  ill  fits)  is  the  gratifying  a  humour 
than  the  Christian  cause ! 

2.  But  let  us  now  see  ho^v  all  this  turns  upon  himself. 
And  how  directly  his  ill  polished  (not  to  say  envenomed) 
darts,  missing  their  designed  mark,  strike  into  that  very 
breast  which  he  undertakes  to  defend.  Whereas  there  are 
two  things,  principally,  to  be  designed  in  a  discourse  of 
this  subject,  viz. 

1.  The  explaining  the  unity  of  the  Father,  Son,  and 
Holy  Ghost,  so  as  that  though  they  are  some  way  three, 
they  may  yet  be  concluded  to  l>e  in  Godhead  but  one ; 

2.  The  evincing,  notwithstanding  that  unity,  the  possi- 
bility of  their  sutScient  distinction,  to  admit  the  disti  ict 
predicates  fhat  are  severally  spoken  of  them  in  the  Holy 
Scriptures : 

The  inquirer's  discourse  chiefly  insists  upon  these  two 
things. 

1.  That  necessity  of  existence  is  the  most  fundamental 
attribute  of  Deity.  And  that  therefore  the  Father,  as  the 
Fountain,  being  necessarily  of  himself,  the  Son  necessarily 
of  the  father,  the  Holy  Ghost  necessarily  from  them  both; 
each  cannot  but  be  God,  and  the  same  one'God.  (In  refer- 
ence to  the  former  purpose.) 

2.  That  absolute  omnimodous  simplicity,  is  never  as- 
serted, in  Scripture,  of  the  Divine  Being,  nor  capable  of 
being,  otherwise,  demonstrated  of  it;  and  that  it  is  impos- 
sible, either  from  Scripture,  or  rational  evidence,  accurately 
to  assign  the  limits  thereof,  and  determine  what  simplicity 
belongs  to  that  ever  blessed  Being,  and  what  not :  if  it  be 
necessary  to  our  apprehending  liow  such  A^iinci  predicates 
and  attributions  may  severallj^  belong  to  the  Father,  Son, 
and  Holy  Ghost,  that  we  conceive  three  distinct  essences 
necessarily  coexisting,  in  an  eternal,  vital,  inseparable 
union  in  the  Divine  Being;  the  thing  may  be  in  itself  pos- 
sible for  ought  we  know.  And  this  is  propounded  to  serve 
the  latter  purpose. 

The  defender  of  the  dean  seems  to  think  otherwise  of 
these  two  things,  viz.  of  necessity  of  existence,  common  to 
the  sacred  three,  which  will  prove  each  of  them  to  be  God, 
and,  belonging  to  them  in  the  mentioned  order,  as  Father, 
Son,  and  Spirit,  will  prove  them  necessary  to  be  one  God. 

And  of  what  is  said  of  simplicity,  which  might  admit 
their  sufficient  distinction  ;  of  both  these,  I  say,  he  seems 
to  think  otherwise  by  neglecting  both,  lest  that  discourse 
should  be  thought  anyway  pertinent,  or  useful  to  its  end; 
and  disputes  vehemently  against  the  latter.  How  strongly 
and  successfully  he  does  it,  in  respect  of  the  truth  of  the 
thing,  we  have  seen.  But  whether  weakly  or  strongly, 
that  his  disputation  tends  to  wound  the  dean's  cause,  all 
that  it  can,  shall  now  be  made  appear. 


p  Postscript  to  his  Letter,  p.  Hi. 
r  Ibid. 


q  Calm  Disc. 


It  is  notorious  the  dean  hath  asserted,  so  positively,  three 
infinite  Minds  or  Spirits,  that  the  benign  interpretation 
wherewith  this  defender  would  salve  the  matter,  (a  new 
vocabulary  being  to  be  made  for  him  on  purpose,  and  the 
reason  of  things  quite  altered,)  will  to  any  man  of  sense 
seem  rather  ludicrous,  than  sufficient,  without  express  re- 
tractation. For  which  the  inquirer  thinks  he  is  upon  some- 
what better  terms,  than  he,  if  there  were  occasion  for  it, 
both  by  the  tenor  of  his  whole  discourse,  and  by  what 
he  hath  particularly  said'  in  the  28th  sect.  But  after  the 
interpretation  offered,  see  whether  such  things  are  not  said 
over  and  over  in  the  defence,  as  make  the  defender  (and 
the  dean  if  he  speak  his  sense)  most  obnoxious  to  the 
whole  argumentation  in  the  postscript.  So  as,  if  a  part 
was  acted,  it  was  carried  so  untowardly,  that  it  seemed  to 
be  quite  forgotten  what  part  it  was,  and  all  the  blows  (for  it 
was  come  now  to  offending  instead  of  defending)  fall  di- 
rectly upon  him,  whom  the  actor  had  undertaken  to  defend. 

It  hath  been  noted  already,  that  the  defender  says  ex- 
pressly, «  "  the  Divine  nature  is  one  individual  nature," 
fand  so  says  the  inquirer, ') — but  not  one  single  nature ; 
(then  it  must  be  double  and  triple,  not  absolutely  simple,  as 
also  the  inquirer  says;)  to  which  he  {viz.  the  defender) 
adds,  "  one  single  nature  can  be  but  one  person,  whether 
in  God  or  man."  Now  let  any  man  judge  whether  all  his 
reasonings  are  not  most  directly  applicable  against  him,  (if 
they  signify  any  thing,)  which  are  contained  in  his  post- 
script, p.  106,  107,  108,  &c. 

How  furiously  doth  he  exagitate  that  saying,  "  "  When 
you  predicate  Godhead,  or  the  name  of  God,  of  any  one  of 
them,  (viz.  Father,  Son,  or  Holy  Ghost, ^  you  herein  express 
a  true  but  inadequate  conception  of  God,"  &c.  insisting  that 
the  whole  "  undivided  Divine  nature"  (no  doubt  it  is  ever- 
lastingly undivided  wherever  it  is)  "subsists  entirely  in 
three  distinct  persons."  This  the  inquirer  never  denied, 
though  he  charges  it  upon  him,  that  he  makes  no  one  of  the 
persons  to  be^  true  and  perfect  God.  But  how  well  doth 
that  agree  with  what  he  had  himself  said,  (Defence,  p.  2(J.) 
Though  God  be  the  most  absolute,  complete,  independent 
Being,  3'^et  neither  the  Son,  nor  the  Holy  Ghost,  can  be 
said  to  be  an  absolute,  complete,  independent  God.  He 
falsely  charges  it  upon  the  inquirer  that  he  makes  the  per- 
sons severally  not  perfect  God,  and  he  denies  two  of  them 
to  be  complete  God.  To  say  not  perfect  is  criminal,  (as 
indeed  it  is,)  to  say  not  complete  is  innocent !  But  his 
saying  the  Son  and  Holy  Ghost  are  not  complete  God ; 
how  doth  it  consist  with  what  is  said.  Postscript,  p.  109. 
"  The  same  whole  entire  divinity  distinctly  and  insepara- 
bly subsists  in  the  person  of  the  Son  and  of  the  Holy 
Ghost."  What  is  wanting  to  make  him  complete  God, 
in  whom  "  the  whole,  entire  divinity  subsists  1"  No  won- 
der if  he  quarrel  with  all  the  world  who  so  little  agrees 
with  him  whose  defence  he  undertakes,  or  with  himself. 
In  the  meantime  the  inquirer  hath  the  less  reason  to  com- 
plain, when  he  manifestly  treats  himself  as  ill  as  him. 

I  only  add,  that  for  his  Discourse  concerning  "  the  one 
Divinity,  or  one  Divine  Nature,  subsisting  wholly  and  en- 
tirely, three  times,"  (whereas  I  had  thought  three  persons 
had  subsisted  at  all  times,  and  all  at  once,)  and  the  per- 
sons of  the  Son  and  Holy  Spirit,  not  being  emanations ; 
Not  the  Son,  because  he  is  the  Father's  image;  and  an 
image  is  not  an  emanation,  but  a  reflection ;  (but  how 
should  there  be  a  reflected  image  without  an  emanation  7) 
"nor  the  Holy  Ghost,  being  vpoffoXn,  not  in  the  sense  of 
emanation,  but  of  the  mysteriotis  procession ;"  I  shall  make 
no  guesses  about  it,  (for  it  concerns  not  the  inquirer,)  only 
I  think  it  very  secure  against  the  formidable  objection 
which  he  mentions,  p.  35.  of  its  being  too  intelligible. 

Upon  the  whole  matter,  I  see  not  what  service  it  can  do 
him,  to  put  intelligent  persons  instead  of  mind;  for  I 
thought  every  person  had  been  intelligent.  Boethius  his 
definition,  which  he  alleges,  plainly  implies  so  much,  and 
one  would  think  he  must  know  that  it  is  the  usual  notion 
of  a  person  to  understand  by  it  suppositvm  roiionale  or  in- 
telligens.  Therefore  methinks  he  should  not  reckon  it  ne- 
cessary to  distinguish  persons  (as  he  doth  by  this  addition 
of  intelligent)  into  such  as  are  persons  and  such  as  are  no 
persons. 


s  Dpfence,  p.  IS.  p.  18. 
u  Post-script. 


t  Calm  Diacoune. 
vibid. 


CONCERNIXG  THE  POSTSCRIPT,  &c. 


157 


But  since  he  expressly  says,  (and  I  think  for  the  most 
part  trul}'',)  "  that  *•  ilie  three  persons  or  subsistences,  in  the 
ever  blessed  trinity,  are  three  real,  substantial  subsistences, 
each  of  which  hath  entirely,  all  the  perfections  of  the  Di- 
vine nature,  divine  wisdom,  power,  and  g;oodness ;  and 
therefore  each  of  them  isciernal,  infinite  mind,  as  distinct 
from  each  othei  as  any  other  three  persons  ;  and  this  he 
believes  the  Dean  will  no  more  recant,  than  he  will  re- 
nounce a  trinity  ;  for  all  the  wit  of  man  cannot  find  a  me- 
dium between  a  substantial  trinity  and  a  trinity  of  names, 
or  a  trinity  of  mere  modes,  respects,  and  relations  in  the 
same  single  essence,  v/hich  is  no  trinity  at  all."  As  also 
he  had  said  much  to  the  same  purpose  before,  "  that  to 
talk  of  three  subsistences  in  the  abstract,  without  three  that 
subsist,  or  of  one  single  nature  which  hath  three  subsist- 
ences, when  it's  impossible  that  in  singularify  there  can  be 
more  than  one  subsistence,"  &c.  I  believe  he  will  find  no 
small  difficulty  to  name  what  it  is,  that  with  the  peculiar 
distinct  manner  of  subsistence  makes  a  person ;  not  the 
very  same  common  nature,  for  the  persons  cannot  be  dis- 
tinguished from  each  other  by  that  which  is  common  to 
them  all.  Therefore  the  divine  nature  which  is  common 
to  the  three,  must  according  to  him  comprehend  three 
single  natures,  and  not  be  absolutely  simple.  Hither  must 
be  his  resort  at  last,  after  all  his  earnest  disputation  against 
it.  And  these  he  will  have  to  be  parts,  which  because  they 
are  undivided,  impartible,  inseparable,  everlastingly  and 
necessarily  united,  I  do  reckon  the  inquirer  did  with  very 
sutTicient  reason,  and  with  just  decency,  and  doth  still  con- 
tinue very  peremptorily  to  deny. 

And  whereas  he  contends  that  the  whole  divine  nature 
is  entirely  in  each  subsistence,  (as  he  dees  again  and 
again,)  I  think  the  term  whole  improper,  where  there  are 
no  proper  parts.  And  I  doubt  not,  when  he  gives  place  to 
cooler  thoughts,  he  will  see  cause  to  qualify  that  assertion 
For  if  he  strictly  mean  that  every  thing  that  belongs  to  the 
Godhead  is  in  each  person  ;  I  see  not  how  he  will  fetch 
himself  from  the  Socinian  consequence,  that  then  each 
person  must  have  a  trinity  subsisting  in  it,  and  be  Father, 
Son,  and  Holy  Ghost.  For  I  doubt  not  he  will  acknow- 
ledge that  the  entire  divinity  includes  in  it  the  Father,  Son, 
and  Holy  Ghost.  And  thei^efore  he  must  be  beholden  to 
an  inadequate  notion  in  this  very  case,  when  all  is  done, 
how  much  soever  he  hath  contended  against  it.  I  do  how- 
ever think  it  safe  and  free  from  any  other  difficulty,  that 
we  unavoidably  have  in  conceiving  intiniies,  to  say. 
That  all  perfection  is  in  each  subsistent  (which  I  like  better 
than  subsistence,  as  more  expressive  of  the  concrete)  as  far 
as  their  natural,  necessary,  eternal  order,  towards  one  an- 
other, as  the  first  is  the  fountain  or  radix,  the  second  from 
that,  and  the  third  from  both,  can  possibly  admit.  All 
must  be  originally  in  the  Father,  with  whom  the  other  two 
have  that  intimate,  vital,  eternal  union,  that  what  is  in  him 
the  other  communicate  tlierein,  in  as  full  perfection  as  is 
inconceivable,  and  more  than  it  is  possible  for  us  or  for 
any  finite  mind  to  conceive.  Therefore  since  that  differ- 
ence which  only  proceeds  from  that  natural,  eternal  order, 
is  conjecturable  only,  hut  is  reallv  unknown,  unrevealed, 
and  inscrutable;  it  is  better  herein  to  confess  the  imper- 
fection of  that  knowledge  which  we  have,  than  to  boast 
that  which  we  have  not,  or  aspire  to  that  which  we  cannot 
have. 


A  VIEW 


OP  THAT  P.1RT  OF 


THE  LATE  CONSIDERATIONS 

ADDRESSED  TO  R  H.  ABOUT  THE  TRINITY.    WHICH  COXCERNS 
THE  SOBER  INaUIRY  ON  THAT  SUBJECT. 

IN  A  LETTER  TO  THE  FORMER  FRIEND. 

Yon  see.  Sir,  I  make  no  haste  to  tell  you  my  thoughts  of 
■what  hath  been  published  since  my  last  to  you,  again.st  my 
sentiments  touching  the  Holy  Trinity.    I  saw  the  matter 

w  Defence,  p.  30. 


less  required  my  lime  and  thoughts,  than  my  other  affairs  ; 
and  so  little,  that  I  was  almost  indifrerent  wheiJKT  I  took 
any  notice  thereof  or  no.  There  is  really  noihing  of  argu- 
ment in  what  I  have  seen,  but  what  I  had  suggested  before, 
and  objected  to  myself,  in  those  very  discourses  of  mine, 
now  animadverted  on  ;  which  not  having  prevented,  with 
me,  the  opinion  I  am  of,  can  as  litile  alter  it,  and  should 
as  little  any  man's  else.  But  a  little  leisure,  as  it  can, 
without  extortion,  be  gained  from  other  occasions,  I  do  not 
much  grudge  to  bestow  on  this. 

I  find  my.self  concerned  in  the  late  considerations  on  the 
explications  of  the  doctrine  of  the  trinity — in  a  letter  to  H. 
H.  The  author  is  pleased  to  give  me  the  honour  of  a 
name,  a  lank,  unvocal  one.  It  is  so  contrived,  that  one 
may  easily  guess  whom  he  means;  but  the  rea.son  of  liis 
doing  so  i  cannot  guess;  it  is  because  he  knew  himself, 
what  he  would  have  others  believe. 

But  I  suppose  he  as  well  knew  his  own  name.  If  he 
knew  not  the  former,  he  ran  the  hazard  of  injuring  either 
the  supposed  author,  or  the  true,  or  both.  I  could,  1  be- 
lieve, make  as  shrewd  a  guess  at  his  name,  and  express  it 
as  plainly.  But  I  think  it  not  civil  to  do  so;  because  I 
apprehend  he  hath  some  reason  to  conceal  it,  whereof  I 
think  he  hath  a  right  to  be  the  judge.  But  I  will  not  pre- 
scribe to  him  rules  of  civility,  of  which  that  he  is  a  great 
judge,  I  will  not  allow  myself  to  doubt. 

Yet  I  will  not  suppose  him  to  have  .^  ver\'  diminishing 
thoughts  of  our  Saviour,  as  not  to  acknowledge  and  rever- 
ence the  authority  of  that  great  rule  of  his.  which  he  knows 
gained  reverence  with  some  who  called  not  themselves 
Christians,  "  Whatsoever  ye  would  that  men  should  do  to 
you — &c."  Nor  can  divine  what  greater  reason  he  should 
have  to  hide  his  own  name,  than  to  expose  mine,  or  make 
the  person  he  indigitates  be  thought  the  author  of  the  dis- 
course he  intended  to  expose;  since  no  man  can  imagine 
how,  as  the  Christian  world  is  constituted,  any  one  can  be 
more  obnoxious  for  denying  three  persons,  than  for  a^^sert- 
ing  three  Gods:  which  latter  his  impotent  attempt  aims 
to  make  that  author  do. 

For  his  censures  of  that  author's  style,  and  difficulty  to 
be  understood,  the)'  ofl'end  me  not.  But  so  I  have  known 
some  pretend  deafness,  to  what  they  were  unwilling  to 
hear.  There  is  indeed  one  place,  Sobet  Inquiry,  in  the  end 
of  sect.  8.  where  must  should  have  been  left  out,  upon  the 
adding  afterwards  q{ can,  that  might  gi^-e  one  some  trou- 
ble. In  which  yet,  the  supposal  of  an  (not  unusual)  asyn- 
deton, would,  without  the  help  of  magic,  have  relieved  a 
considering  reader.  And  for  his  compliments,  as  they  do 
me  no  real  good,  so,  I  thank  God,  they  hurt  me  not.  I 
dwell  at  home,  and  better  know  my  own  furniture  than 
another  can.  For  himself,  I  discern  and  readily  aclcnow- 
ledge  in  him,  those  excellent  accomjilishments,  for  which 
I  most  heartily  wish  him  an  advocate  in  a  better  cause, 
without  despair  he  will  yet  prove  so;  when  I  take  notice 
of  some  pa.ssages  which  look  like  indications  of  a  serious 
temper  of  mind,  as  of  choosing  God,  and  the  honour  of  his 
name,  for  our  portion  and  design :  and  that  he  lives  in  vain, 
who  knows  not  his  Alaker,  and  his  God :  with  the  like. 

But  on  the  other  hand,  I  was  as  heartily  sorry  to  meet 
with  an  expression  of  so  different  a  strain,  on  so  awful  a 
subject,  of  "  making  a  coat  for  the  moon."  That  precept 
whiuh''  Josephus  inserts  among  those  given  the  Jews, 
doth  for  the  reason  it  ha;h  in  it,  abstracting  from  its  au- 
thority, deserve  to  be  considered.  It  seems  to  import  a 
decency  to  the  rest  of  mankind,  whose  notions  of  a  Deity 
did  not  argue  them  sunk  into  the  lowest  degrees  of  sottish- 
ness  and  stupidity.  Good  Sir,  what  needed  (think  you)  so 
adventurous  boldness,  in  so  lubricous  a  case  1  It  gains 
nothing  to  a  man's  cause  either  of  strength  or  reputation 
with  Avise  and  good  men.  A  sound  argument  will  be  as 
sound  without  it.  Nor  should  I  much  value  having  them 
on  my  side,  whom  I  can  hope  to  make  laugh  at  so  hazard- 
ous a  jest.  I  can  never  indeed  have  any  irreat  veneration 
for  a  morose  sourness,  whatsoever  affected  appearance  it 
may  have  with  it,  of  a  simulated  sanctimony  or  religious- 
ness; but  I  should  think  it  no  hardship  upon  me  to  re- 
press that  levitj',  as  to  attempt  dancing  upon  the  brink  of 
so  tremendous  a  precipice.     And  would  always  express 

a  %\ao<it)uciTO  ic  uriicii  Qtovi  ovf  voXnf  aXAoi  )iOf^i^ovai.  Lib.  i.  Jud. 
Alitiq.        ' 


158 


A  VIEW  OF  THE  LATE  CONSIDERATIONS 


myself  with  suspicion,  and  a  supposed  possibility  of  being 
mistaken,  in  a  case  wherein  I  find  many  of  noted  judg- 
ment and  integrity,  in  the  succession  of  several  ages,  differ- 
ing from  me.  But  go  we  on  to  the  cause  itself,  where  he 
pretends, 

1.  First  to  give  a  view  of  the  sober  inquirer's  hypothesis ; 

2.  And  then  to  argue  against  it. 

As  to  the  former.  He  doth  it,  I  am  loath  to  say,  with 
less  fairness  than  from  a  person  of  his  (otherwise)  appear- 
ing ingenuity,  one  would  expect.  For  he  really  makes  me 
to  have  said  more  than  I  ever  did,  in  divers  instances; 
and  much  less  than  I  have  expressly  said ;  and  that  he 
cannot  have  so  little  understanding  as  not  to  know  was 
most  material  to  the  cause  in  hand. 

He  represents  me,  p.  40.  col.  1.  saying:  The  persons  are 
distinct  essences,  numerical  natures,  beings,  substances ; 
and  col.  2.  That  I  hold  them  to  be  three  spirits ;  when  in 
the  close  of  one  of  those  paragraphs,  I  recite  the  words 
of  W.  J.  "  In  the  unity  of  the  Godhead  '  there  must  be  no 
plurality  or  multiplicity  of  substances  allowed ;  and  do 
add,  Nor  do  I  say  that  there  must.'  And  I  do  not  posi- 
tively say  there  are  three  distinct  substances,  minds,  or 
spirits."  I  would  ask  this  my  learned  antagonist,  Have 
saying  and  not  saying  the  same  signification  1  And  again, 
when  my  words  are :  I  will  not  use  the  expressions,  as 
signifying  ray  formed  judgment,  that  there  are  three  things, 
substances,  or  spirits  in  the  Godhead,  how  could  he  say, 
I  hold  the  three  persons  to  be  three  spirits'?  Is  any  man, 
according  to  the  ordinary  way  of  speaking,  said  to  hold 
what  is  not  his  formed  judgment  1  If  he  only  propose 
things  whereof  he  doubts,  to  be  considered  and  discussed 
by  others,  in  order  to  the  forming  of  it,  and  by  gentle  ven- 
tilation to  sift  out  truth,  it  the  rather  argues  him  not  to  hold 
this  or  that. 

And  I  think  much  service  might  be  done  to  the  common 
interest  of  religion,  by  such  a  free  mutual  communication 
of  even  more  doubtful  thoughts,  if  such  disquisitions  were 
pursued  with  more  candmir,  and  with  less  confidence  and 
prepossession  of  mind,  or  addictedness  to  the  interest  of  any 
party  whatsoever.  If  it  were  rather  endeavoured,  to  reason 
one  another  into,  or  out  of,  this  or  that  opinion,  than  either 
by  sophistical  collusions  to  cheat,  or  to  hector  by  great 
words,  one  that  is  not  of  my  mind.  Or  if  the  design  were 
less  to  expose  an  adversary,  than  to  clear  the  matter  in 
controversy. 

Besides,  that  if  such  equanimity  did  more  generally  ap- 
pear, and  govern,  in  transactions  of  this  nature,  it  would 
produce  a  greater  liberty  in  communicating  our  thoughts, 
about  some  of  the  more  vogued  and  fashionable  opinions, 
by  exempting  each  other  from  the  fear  of  ill  treatment  in 
the  most  sensible  kind.  It  being  too  manifest,  that  the 
same  confident  insulting  genius,  which  makes  a  man  think 
himself  competent  to  be  a  standard  to  mankind,  would 
also  make  him  impatient  of  dissent,  and  tempt  him  to  do 
worse,  than  reproach  one  that  differs  from  him,  if  it  were 
in  his  power.  And  the  club  or  faggot  arguments  must  be 
expected  to  take  place,  where  what  he  thinks  rational  ones, 
did  not  do  the  business.     This  only  on  the  by. 

In  the  meantime,  that  there  is  a  trinity  in  the  Godhead 
is  no  matter  of  doubt  Avith  me;  but  only  whether  this  be 
the  best  way  of  explaining  and  defending  it.  If  this  be 
not  the  best,  or  sufficient,  some  other  will,  I  believe,  or  hath 
been  found  out  b}'  some  other.  Of  which  I  have  spoken 
my  sense  not  onl}^  indefinitely,  but  particularly  of  the  more 
common  way;  not  that  I  did  then,  or  have  yet  thought  it 
the  best,  but  not  indefensible. 

And  I  must  now  sincerely  profess,  that  the  perusal  of 
these  very  considerations  gives  me  more  confidence  about 
this  hypothesis,  than  I  allowed  myself  before ;  finding  that 
the  very  sagacious  author  of  them,  of  whose  abilities  and 
industry  together,  I  really  have  that  opinion,  as  to  count 
him  the  most  likely  to  confute  it  of  all  the  modern  antitri- 
nitarians,  hath  no  other  way  to  deal  with  it,  than  first,  both 
partially  and  invidiously  to  represent  it,  and  then,  rather  to 
trifle  than  argue  again.st  it.  He  first  paints  it  out  in  false 
and  ugly  colours,  before  he  comes  to  reasoning;  and  then, 
when  he  should  reason,  he  says  nothing  that  hath  so  much 
as  a  colour.  It  seems  to  me  an  argument  of  a  suspected 
ill  cause  on  his  side,  that  he  thought  it  needful  to  pre- 
possess the  reader  with  the  imagination  of  I  know  not 


(and  I  believe  he  knows  not)  what  gross  ideas,  as  he  ro- 
mances, belonging  to  this  hypothesis.  Because  from  those 
words,  Prov.  viii.  Then  was  I  by  him,  as  one  brought  up 
with  him,  and  daily  his  delight;  the  author  speaks  of  the 
delicious  society,  which  these  words  intimate,  the  eternal 
Wisdom,  and  the  prime  Author  and  Parent  of  all  things, 
to  have  each  with  other. 

For  my  part,  I  have  little  doubt  but  this  ingenious  writer 
is  so  well  acquainted  with  the  gust  and  relish  of  intellec- 
tual delight,  that  he  chose  to  expose  his  adversar}^  by  using 
that  odd  expression  of  gross  idea  so  causelessly,  in  accom- 
modation only  to  the  genius  of  some  other  men,  whom  he 
thought  fit  to  humour,  rather  than  his  own.  Nor  can  he 
be  so  little  acquainted  with  the  paganish  theology,  as  not 
to  apprehend  a  vast  disagreement  between  this  and  that, 
and  a  much  greater  agreement  between  the  paganish  notion 
of  the  Deity,  and  his  own. 

For  the  questions  which  he  supposes  me  to  put,  and 
makes  me  answer  as  he  thinks  fit,  by  misapplied  passages 
of  that  discourse,  I  hope  it  will  appear  they  were  either 
prevented,  or  answered  at  another  rate.  At  length  he  says, 
"The  butt-end  of  this  h^^pothesis,"  &c.  I  like  not  that 
phrase  the  worse  for  the  author's  sake,  of  whom  it  seems 
borrowed,  whose  memory  greater  things  will  make  live, 
when  we  are  forgot.  But  let  him  proceed — The  butt-end 
of  this  hypothesis  is  the  true  strength  of  it.  But  that  true 
strength  he  hath  either  had  the  hap  not  to  observe,  or 
taken  the  care  not  to  represent,  i.  e.  from  what  is  so  often 
inculcated  in  that  discourse,  the  necessary  existence  of  two 
hypostases  of,  and  in  the  first,  and  of  an  omnimodous  sim- 
plicity groundlessly  supposed  in  the  Divine  Being,  he 
hath  kept  himself  at  a  wary  cautious  distance,  when  he 
might  apprehend  there  was  its  strength.  Therefore  I  cannot 
also  but  observe,  that  as  he  hath  marked  this  hjTiothesis, 
with  (most  undue)  ill  characters;  so  he  hath  maimed  it 
too,  of  what  was  most  considerable  belonging  to  it,  that  he 
might  expose  it  by  the  former  means,  so  as  to  make  it 
need  much  defence ;  and  that  by  the  latter  it  might  seem 
quite  destitute  of  any  defence  at  all. 

And  now  when  (not  without  some  untoward  disfigura- 
tions) it  hath  thus  far  escaped  his  hands,  and  is  (in  none 
of  the  best  shapes)  set  itp  only  to  be  beaten  down  ;  the 
argument  he  first  attacks  it  with,  is  the  inartificial  one  of 
authority.  And  yet  his  argument  from  this  topic,  is  only 
negative,  that  the  opinion  he  would  confute  wants  autho- 
rity, "  that  the  inquirer  was  the  fir.st  that  ever  dreamt  of  it, 
and  that  no  learned  divine  of  any  persuasion  will  sub- 
scribe to  it:"  q.  d.  'Tis  false,  and  impossible  to  be  true. 
The  inquirer  only  proposing  what  he  offered,  as  possible 
for  ought  we  know,  is  not  otherwise  opposed  than  by  as- 
serting it  to  be  impossible.  This  therefore  he  must  say,  or 
he  saith  nothing  to  the  purpose.  And  whj^  now  is  it  impos- 
sible 1  Because  no  body  said  it  before.  So,  then,  was 
every  thing  that  any  man  first  said;  but  afterwards,  by  being 
often  spoken,  it  might,  it  seems,  at  length  become  true. 
For  any  learned  divines  subscribing  to  it,  I  suppose  he  in- 
tends that  in  the  strict  sense.  And  so  the  inquirer  never 
said  he  would  subscribe  it  himself,  otherwise  than  that  his 
judgment  did  more  incline  to  it,  as  liable  to  less  exception 
than  other  ways  of  defending  the  doctrine  of  the  trinity,  or 
than  denying  it,  which  he  thought  least  defensible  of  all. 

But  now  supposing  one  should  find  learned  divines  of 
the  same  mind,  (and  perhaps  some  may  be  found  more 
confident  than  he,)  I  would  ask  the  considerator,  whether 
he  will  therefore  confess  a  trinity  a  possible  thing  1  If  not, 
he  deals  not  fairly,  to  put  the  inquirer  upon  quoting  autho- 
rities to  no  purpose;  or  that  he  would  have  them  conclude 
him,  by  whom  he  will  not  be  concluded  himself. 

He  seems  indeed  himself  to  have  forgot  the  question 
(with  which  afterwards  he  charges  the  inquirer)  as  it  is  set 
down,  Whether  a  trinity  in  the  Godhead  be  a  possible 
thing  ?  This  was  the  question,  not  what  John,  or  Thomas, 
or  James  such  a  one  thought  1  But  while  he  pretends  to 
think  no  body  else  is  of  the  inquirer's  mind  in  the  particu- 
lar point  he  is  now  speaking  to,  i.  e.  the  delicious  society 
the  divine  hypostases  are  supposed  to  have  with  each  other ; 
give  me  leave  freely  to  discourse  this  matter.  I  would 
know  what  it  is,  wherein  he  supposes  the  inquirer  to  have 
over-shot  his  mark ;  or  of  what  makes  he  here  so  mighty  a 
wonderment "?     It  can  be  but  one  of  these  two  things : — 


ADDRESSED  TO  H.  TI.  ABOUT  THE  TRINITY, 


i:.9 


either  that  there  are  three  divine  persons  in  the  Godhead 
really  distinct ;  or, — that  they  have  (if  there  be)  a  delicious 
society  or  conversation  with  each  other.  Will  he  say  tlie 
former  is  a  singular  opinion"?  or,  that  'tis  novell  Was 
there  never  a  real  trinitarian  in  the  world  before  1  Doth 
he  not,  in  his  own  express  words,  sort  the  inquirer  with 
one,  whom  he  will  not  deny  to  be  a  learned  divine,  p.  43. 
of  these  his  present  considerations,  col.  I.  "  The  auihor  of 
the  28  propositions,  and  Mr.  H— w,"  as  he  calls  the  inqui- 
rer, "  are  honest  men,  and  real  trinitarians."  By  which 
former  character  he  hath,  I  dare  say,  ten  thousand  times 
more  gratified  his  ambition,  than  by  calling  him  learned  too. 
And  I  believe  he  will  as  little  think  this  a  novel  opinion,  as 
a  singular  one.  Nor  shall  1  thank  him  for  acknowledging 
it  to  have  been  the  opinion  of  the  fathers,  generally,  not 
only  Ante  Nicene  and  Niceiie,  but  Pust-Nicene  too,  for  some 
following  ages,  unto  that  of  P.  Lombard,  so  obvious  it  is 
to  every  one  that  will  but  more  slightly  search. 

For  my  part,  I  will  not  except  Justin  Martyr  himself, 
whom  I  the  rather  mention,  both  as  he  was  one  of  the 
more  ancient  of  the  fathers,  and  as  I  may  also  call  him, 
the  father  of  the  modalisls  ;  nor  his  notion  even  about  the 
b  Homoousian-Trinity,  as  he  expressly  styles  it.  For 
though  it  will  require  more  time  than  I  now  intend  to  be- 
stow, to  give  a  distinct  account  of  every  passage  throughout 
that  discourse  of  his,  yet  his  expression  of  the  Tpdiroi  vvai>^t<.oi 
must  not  be  so  taken,  as  if  it  were  to  be  torn  away  from 
its  coherence,  and  from  itself.     When  therefore  he  says  the 

TO  jiiv  dylvvr)Tov,    Kai    ysi'i'ijrdi',    Koi   CxTropevrdv,    the  being   unbc- 

gotlen,  begotten,  and  having  proceeded,  are  not  the  names  of 
the  essence,  but  (rpdiroi  imdfi^twc,')  modes  of  subsisteiwe ;  he 
must  mean  they  are  not  immediately  names  of  the  essence, 
but  mediately  they  cannot  but  be  so.  For  what  do  they 
modify  1  not  nothing.  When  they  are  said  to  be  modes  of 
subsistence,  what  is  it  that  subsists?  We  cannot  pluck 
away  these  modes  of  subsistence  from  that  which  subsists, 
and  whereof  they  are  the  modes.  And  what  is  thai  1  You 
will  say  the  fiia  aaia,  the  mie  essence,  which  he  had  men- 
tioned before ;  and  that  one  essence  is,  'lis  true,  as  perfectly 
one  as  'tis  possible;  for  what  is  of  itself,  and  Avhat  are 
from  that,  to  be  with  each  other,  i.  e.  that  they  are  conge- 
nerous, as  the  sun  and  its  rays,  (according  to  that,  Heb.  i.  3. 
(i-ui.yaT/ia  rijf  <5i5|/)?,  the  effulgency  of  glory, ^  or  as  mind,  and 
(where  there  is  nothing  else  but  substance)  con.substantial 
thought  or  word.  Therefore  this  oneness  of  essence  must 
be  taken  in  so  large  and  extensive  a  sense,  as  that  it  may 
admit  of  these  differences.  For  so  he  afterwards  plainly 
speaks,  if  "  h  jiiv,  ny€vvr]T<.>i  e-^ci ;  if  the  one  (the  Father)  hath 
his  existence  without  being  begotten,  6  yei/unTUM,  another 
(the  Son)  by  being  begotten,  to  M,  iKjrif>£OTi:<i_,  but  that  (the 
Holy  Ghost)  by  having  proceeded,  here  it  befalls  us  to 
behold  differences  (rn  ni?  Sia<popas)  or  the  things  that  import 
difference."  There  must  be  a  sense,  therefore,  wherein  he 
understood  this  essence  to  be  most  truly  one ;  and  a  sense 
wherein  he  also  understood  it  to  have  its  differences,  and 
those  too  not  important  ones,  as  being  unbegotten,  and 
being  begotten,  signify  no  light  differences. 

And  in  what  latitude  of  sense  he  understood  the  oneness 
of  essence,  whereof  he  had  before  spoken,  may  be  seen  in 
his  following  explication,  when  what  he  said  he  would 
have  be  aa.p'rs-epiv,  more  inanifest ;  he  makes  Adam's  pecu- 
liar mode  of  subsistence  to  be  that  he  was  »  yci-nTng,  axXa 
6ta^XaDcU,  not  begotten,  but  inadc  by  God's  own  hand;  but 
for  them  that  were  from  him,  he  intimates  theirs  to  be,  they 
were  begotten,  not  made.  If  then  you  inquire  concerning 
the  same  essence  that  was  common  to  him  and  lliem,  you 
still  find  that  man  is  the  vnoKci^rn'op,  the  subject,  whether  of 
formation,  as  to  him,  or  of  generation,  as  to  them.  And 
who  apprehends  not  in  what  latitude  of  sense  the  human 
nature  is  one,  which  is  common  to  Adam  and  his  poste- 
rity! Though  the  Divine  nature  is  incomparably  more 
one,  which  is  common  to  the  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit ;  as 
we  have  formerly  insisted,  and  shall  further  show  it  cannot 
but  be,  in  all  necessary,  and  continually  depending,  ema- 
nations. 

Yet  I  might,  if  there  were,  need,  again  (as  to  this  part) 
quote  the  considerator  to  himself.  For  I  suppose  he  will 
not  disown  the  considerations  in  1693,  in  which,  page  15. 
col.  1.  are  these  words,  "  Dr.  Cudworth,  by  a  great  num- 

t>   E  .9.  TTi-. 


ber  of  very  pertinent  and  home  quotations,  hath  proved 
that  his  explication  (I  mean  that  part  of  it  which  makes 
the  three  persons  to  be  .so  many  distinct  essences,  or  sub- 
stances) is  the  doctrine  of  the  principal  if  not  of  all  the 
fathers,  as  well  a.s  of  the  Platonisls."  And  'tis  added, 
"  and  I,  for  my  part,  do  grant  it."  Upon  the  whole,  then, 
I  reckon  that  as  to  this  first  part,  we  stand  clear  not  only 
to  the  rest  of  the  world,  but  with  this  author  himself,  that 
to  be  a  real  trinitarian  is  not  so  unheard  of  a  thing,  or  what 
no  learned  divine  of  any  persuasion  ever  dreamt  of  before 
the  inquirer.     But  now  for  the 

Second  part.  The  delicious  society  supposed  to  be  be- 
tween (or  rather  among)  the  three  persons.  Is  this  a 
dream?  and  so  strange  a  onel  Why,  good  Sir  !  can  you 
suppose  three  persons,  i.  e.  three  intellectual  subsistences, 
perfectly  wise,  holy,  and  good,  coexisting  with,  inexisting 
in,  one  another  to  have  no  society'?  or  that  socieiy  not  to 
be  delicious"?  He  say.?.  How  can  it  be  1  I  say.  How  can 
it  but  bel  Herein  I  am  sure  the  inquirer  hath  far  more 
company  than  in  the  former.  For  whether  the  three  per- 
sons have  all  the  same  numerical  essence,  or  three  distinct, 
all  agree  they  most  delightfully  converse.  Will  he  pre- 
tend never  to  have  read  any  that  make  love  (as  it  were  in 
tercurrent  between  the  two  first)  the  character  of  the  third  1 
In  short,  is  it  the  thing  he  quarrels  with  as  singular,  or 
the  word  ?  At  the  thing,  supposing  three  persons,  he  can 
have  no  quarrel,  without  quarrelling  with  the  common 
sense  of  mankind.  For  the  word,  he  hath  more  wit  and 
knowledge  of  language  than  to  pretend  to  find  fault  with 
that.  For  let  him  consult  expositors  (even  the  known  cri- 
tics) upon  the  mentioned  place,  Prov.  viii.  (whom,  in  so 
plain  a  case,  I  will  not  be  at  the  pains  to  quote  and  tran- 
scribe,) and  take  notice  whether  none  read  those  words 
fui  in  deliciis.  Therefore  I  believe  the  considerator  will 
be  so  ingenuous,  as  to  perceive  he  hath,  in  this  part  of  his 
discourse,  grossly  overshot,  or  undershot,  or  shot  wide  of, 
his  own  mark,  if  indeed  he  had  any,  or  did  not  (letting  his 
bolt  fly  too  soon)  shoot  at  rovers,  before  he  had  taken 
steady  aim  at  any  thing.  In  short,  all  this  dust  could  be 
raised  but  with  design  only,  because  he  could  not  enlight- 
en his  readers,  lo  blind  them. 

But  now,  when  he  should  come  by  solid  argument  to 
disprove  the  hypothesis,  by  showing  that  three  individual 
divine  natures,  or  essences,  can  possibly  have  no  nexus,  so 
as  to  become  one  entire  divine  nature,  and,  at  the  same 
time,  (which  this  hypothesis  supposes,)  remain  still  three 
individual  divine  natures  and  essences,  he  thinks  fit  to 
leave  it  to  another  to  do  it  for  him,  who,  he  sa\'s,  if  he 
cannot  prove  this,  can  prove  nothing.  And  when  we  see 
that  proof,  it  will  be  time  enough  to  consider  it. 

In  the  meantime,  I  cannot  here  but  note  what  I  will 
neither,  in  charity,  call  forgery  in  the  considerator,  nor,  in 
civility,  ignorance,  but  it  cannot  be  less  than  great  over- 
sight; hist&\koi  thesethree,^oumiedasXo  bec^/me  o-ne.  The 
inquirer  never  spake  (nor  dreamt)  of  their  becoming  one, 
but  of  their  being  naturally,  necessarily,  and  eternaHy  so. 

Then  he  comes  to  put  the  question,  as  (he  says)  it  is 
between  the  inquirer  and  the  Socinians.  And  he  puts  it 
thus :  How  three  distinct,  several,  individual  divine  beings, 
essences,  or  substances,  should  remain  three  several  indi- 
vidual sub.stances,  and  yet,  at  the  same  time,  be  united  into 
one  divine  substance  called  God  1  One  would  have 
thought,  when  he  had  so  newly  waived  the  former  ques- 
tion, as  wherein  he  meant  not  to  be  concerned,  he  should 
presently  have  put  a  new  one,  upon  which  he  intended  to 
engage  himself  But  we  have  the  same  over  again,  even 
with  the  same  ill  look  of  an  equivalent  phrase  unto  becom- 
ing united  into  one,  to  insinuate  to  his  reader,  as  if  his  an- 
tagonist thought  these  three  were  dc  novo  united,  not  in 
but  into  one.  Which  he  knew  must  have  a  harsh  sound, 
and  as  well  knew  it  to  be  most  repugnant  to  the  inquirer's 
most  declared  sentiment.  Nor  will  it  be  any  presumption, 
if  I  take  the  liberty  to  set  down  the  question  according  to 
the  inquirer's  mind,  who  hath  as  much  reason  to  know  it 
as  he;  and  I  am  sure  it  will  be  more  agreeable  to  the 
tenor  of  his  discourse  now  referred  to,  "  Whether  the 
TO  Otiov,  or  the  Divine  Being,  may  not  possibly,  for  ought 
we  know,  contain  three  natures,  or  essences,  under  the 
names  of  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  so  far  distinct,  as 


ICO 


A  VIEW  OF  THE  LATE  CONSIDERATIONS 


is  necessary  to  found  the  distinct  predications  or  attributes 
severally  given  them  in  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  yet  be 
eternally,  necessarily,  naturally,  vitally  so  united,  as  not- 
withstanding that  remaining  distinction,  to  be  one  God." 
And  let  us  now  see  what  he  hath  to  say,  first,  to  the  in- 
quirer's illustrations  of  it,  as  possible:  secondly^  what  he 
brings  to  prove  it  impossible. 

As  to  the  former  part,  he  first  falls  upon  what  the  in- 
quirer hath  said  concerning  the  vegetative,  sensitive,  and 
intellective  natures  in  oursej  ves.  And  upon  this  he  insists 
so  operously,  as  if  the  whole  weight  of  the  cause  had  been 
laid  upon  it,  and  seems  to  think  the  inquirer  had  forgot 
the  question,  when  he  mentioned  it;  because  he  says, 
those  are  only  distinct  faculties,  not  persons,  or  substances, 
(though  persons  were  not  in  his  question,)  without  ever 
taking  any  notice  of  the  inquirer's  waiving  it,  with  these 
words,  "  that  he  would  content  himself  with  what  was 
more  obvious."  But  this  is  all  art:  to  raise  a  mighty 
posse,  and  labour  to  seem  to  those  that  he  believed  would 
read  what  he  writ  only,  not  what  the  other  did,  most  effec- 
tually to  expunge  what  he  saw  was  neglected,  though  not 
altogether  useless  ;  as  we  shall  see  anon. 

In  the  meantime,  it  is  observable  how  needlessly  he  slurs 
himself  in  this  his  first  brisk  onset.  He  says,  "  No  man 
ever  pretended — that  the  vegetative,  sensitive,  and  intel- 
lective faculties  (or  powers)  are  so  many  distinct,  indi- 
vidual persons,  substances,  or  essences,  we  grant,"  &c. 

What,  did  no  man  ever  pretend  that  these  three  distinct 
natures,  the  vegetative,  sensitive,  intellective,  were  in  man, 
three  distinct  substances,  or  souls,  concurring  by  a  certain 
subordination  in  him"?  What  necessity  was  there,  that  to 
heighten  his  triumph,  in  the  opinion  of  his  credulous  fol- 
lowers, he  should,  with  so  glorious  a  confidence,  put  on 
the  vain  and  false  show  of  having  all  the  world  on  his  side ; 
and  herein  either  dissemble  his  knowledge,  or  grossly  be- 
wray his  ignorance  in  the  mere  history  of  philosophy ;  and 
most  imprudently  suppose  all  his  readers  as  ignorant,  as 
he  would  seem  1 '  What,  did  he  never  hear  of  an  Averroes 
in  the  world  1  Doth  he  not  know  that  physician  and  phi- 
losopher, and  his  followers,  earnestly  contended  for  what 
he  says  no  man  ever  pretended  to?  Or  that  divers  other 
commentators  upon  Aristotle,  have  some  abetted,  others  as 
vehemently  opposed,  them  in  it  1  Not  to  insist  also  that 
some  thought  the  Intelledus  Agens,  and  Palicns,  to  be  dis- 
tinct substances,  belonging  to  the  nature  of  man,  as  others 
had  also  other  conceits  about  the  former  1  And  if  he  look 
some  hundreds  of  years  back,  as  far  as  the  time  and  extant 
work  of  Nemesius,  bishop  and  philosopher,  (as  he  writes 
himself,)  of  the  nature  of  man,  (who  lived  in  the  time  of 
Gregory  Nazianzen,  as  appears  by  an  epistle  of  his  writ  to 
him,  and  prefixed  to  that  little  book  of  his,)  he  will  find 
that  author  takes  notice  there  were  divers  that  took  man 
to  consist  of  mind,  soul,  and  body,  and  that  some  did  doubt  <= 
■whether  tke  mind  supervening  to  the  sovi  as  one  to  the  other, 
did  not  make  the  latter  intelligent.  And  in  several  other 
parts  of  that  work,  easy,  if  it  were  necessary,  to  be  recited, 
he  speaks  it  as  the  judgment  of  some,^  that  the  nnreason- 
ahle  nature  in  man  did  exist  by  itself,  as  being  of  itself  om 
unreasonaile  soul,  not  a  part  of  the  reasonable  ;^  accounting 
it  one  of  the  greatest  absurdities,  that  the  unreasonable  soul 
should  be  a  part  of  that  which  is  reasonable. 

And  he  carries  us  yet  much  further  back,  referring  us  to 
f  Plotinus,  in  whom  any  that  will,  may  read  much  more  to 
that  purpose  in  many  places.  It  matters  not  whether  this 
opinion  be  true  or  false,  but  a  great  mistake  (or  misrepre- 
sentation) it  was,  to  say  no  man  ever  pretended  to  it.  And 
be  that  as  it  will;  if  all  the  readers  will  suspend  their 
judgments,  that  a  trinity  in  the  Godhead  is  impossible,  till 
the  considerator  shall  have  proved,  by  plain  demonstra- 
tion, the  concurrence  of  three  such  spirits  (a  vegetative, 
sensitive,  and  intellective)  vitally  united  in  the  constitution 
of  man,  is  a  thing  simply  impossible,  I  believe  he  will  not, 
in  haste,  have  many  proselytes. 

I,  for  my  part,  as  his  own  eyes  might  have  told  him, 
laid  no  stress  upon  it;  but  only  mentioned  it  in  transitu, 
as  I  was  going  on  to  what  is  obvious,  and  in  view  to  every 
man,  the  union  between  our  soul  and  body.  Nor  was  I 
solicitous  to  find  this  an  exact  parallel,  as  he  fancies  I 

c  TioTipnv  Trponc\Ot,>v,  o  vovi  Tt\  l/^ii,\fj  (0{  aXXoj  aWt]  vocpav  avrriv 
sirotriocv,  &c  cap.  I. 


was  obliged  to  do.  What  if  there  be  no  exact  parallell 
Will  any  man  of  a  sober  mind,  or  that  is  master  of  his 
oivn  thoughts,  conclude  every  thing  impossible  in  the  un- 
created Being,  whereof  there  is  not  an  exact  parallel  in 
the  creation'!  If  any  man  will  stand  upon  this,  come 
make  an  argument  of  it,  let  us  .see  it  in  form,  and  try  its 
stren.gth. — Whatsoever  hath  not  its  exact  parallel  in  ihe 
creation,  is  impossible  in  God,  &c. — He  will  sooner  piove 
himself  ridiculous,  than  prove  his  point  by  such  a  medium. 

'Tis  enough  for  a  sober  man's  purpose,  in  such  a  case  as 
we  are  now  considering,  if  we  iiud  such  things  actually 
are  (or  might  as  easily  be,  as  what  we  see  actually  is) 
among  the  creatures,  that  are  of  as  difficult  conception, 
and  explication,  as  what  appears  represented  in  the  in- 
quirer's hypothesis  concerning  a  trinity.  'Tis  trifling  to 
atcempt  to  give,  or  to  ask,  a  parallel  exact  per  omnia.  It 
abundantly  serves  any  reasonable  purpose,  if  there  be  a 
parallel  quoad  hoc,  viz.  in  respect  of  the  facilit}-  or  difii- 
culiy  of  conception.  And  though  the  vegeiaiive,  sensi- 
tive, and  intellective  natures  be  not  so  many  distinct  sub- 
stances, a  trinity  is  not  less  conceivable  in  the  Divine  Being, 
than  three  such  natures,  or  natural  powers,  in  the  one  hu- 
man nature. 

And  whoever  they  be  that  will  not  simplify  the  Divine 
Being  into  nothing,  (as  the  excellent  author  of  the  28  pro- 
positions speaks,)  must  also  acknowledge  the  mo.'st  real 
perfections  in  the  Divine  Being,  though  not  univocal,  but 
infinitely  transcendent  to  any  thing  in  us.  And  are  they 
no  way  distinct  ?  Let  any  sober  understanding  judge, 
will  the  same  nothing  agree  to  them  alll  Is  his  know- 
ledge, throughout,  the  same  with  his  effective  power  1 
Then  he  must  make  himself.  For  who  can  doubt  he  knows 
himself?  And  is  his  will  the  self-same  untlisiinguishalile 
perfection,  in  him,  with  his  knowledge  1  Then  the  pur- 
poses of  his  will  must  be  to  effect  all  that  he  can.  For  doth 
he  not  know  all  that  he  can  do?  And  the  complacencies 
of  his  will  must  be  as  much  in  what  is  evil,  as  good,  even 
in  the  most  odious  turpitude  of  the  vilest,  and  most  im- 
moral evils!  For  he  knows  both  alike.  I  know  what  is 
commonly  said  of  extrinsical  denominations :  but  are  such 
denominations  true,  or  false  1  Have  they  any  thing  in  re 
correspondent  to  them,  or  have  they  not  1  Then  .some  dis- 
tinction there  must  be  of  these  perfections  themselves.  If 
so,  how  are  they  distinguished! 

And  there  appears  great  reason,  from  God's  own  word, 
to  conceive  greater  distinction  of  the  three  hypostases  in 
his  being,  than  of  the  attributes  which  are  common  to 
them,  as  is  said.  Sober  Inquiry,  page  151.  In  reference 
whereto,  it  is  not  improper  or  impertinent  to  mention  such 
diflferences,  as  we  find  in  our  own  being,  though  they  be 
not  distinct  substances.  Less  distinction  in  ourselves  may 
lead  us  to  conceive  the  possibility  of  greater  in  him  in 
whom  we  are  wont  to  apprehend  nothing  but  substarce. 

What  he  adds  concerning  the  union  of  soul  and  budy  in 
ourselves,  (which  he  cannot  deny  to  be  distinct  substances,) 
is,  from  a  man  of  so  good  sense,  so  surprisingly  strange, 
and  remote  from  the  purpose,  that  one  would  scarce  think 
it  from  the  same  man ;  but  that  he  left  this  part  to  some 
other  of  the  club,  and  afterwards  v/rote  on,  himself,  with- 
out reading  it  over ;  or  this  was  with  him  (what  we  are  all 
liable  to)  some  drowsy  interval. 

For  when  he  had  himself  recited  as  the  inquirer's  words, 
or  sense,  "  If  there  be  this  union  between  two  so  contrary 
natures  and  substances,  as  the  soul  and  bod}',  why  may 
there  not  be  a  like  union  between  two  or  three  created 
spirits'?"  he,  without  shadow^  of  a  pretence,  feigns  the  in- 
quirer again  to  have  forgot  the  question,  because  soul  and 
body  are  not  both  intelligent  substances.  And  why.  Sir, 
doth  this  argiie  him  to  have  forgot  the  question  1  'Tis  as 
if  he  expected  a  man  to  be  at  the  top  of  the  stairs,  as  soon 
as  he  touched  the  first  step.  In  a  series  of  discourse,  mtist 
the  beginning  touch  the  end,  leaving  out  what  is  to  come 
between,  and  connect  both  parts'?  What  then  serve  me- 
diums for'?  And  so  farewell  to  all  reasonings,  since  no- 
thing can  be  proved  by  itself  He  expected,  it  seems,  I 
should  have  proved  "  three  intelligent  natures  might  be 
united,  because  three  intelligent  natures  might  be  united." 

But  say  I  (and  so  he  repeats)  if  there  be  so  near  union 

(\  Ka9'  cavrr/v  eivai  (Oi  Xo}oi/  \pvxif.  e  T<'Ji'  aroiroraTWi',  cap.  16. 

f  Enn.  6.  lib.  7.  cap.  5,  8,  7,  &c. 


ADDRESSED  TO  II.  H.  ABOUT  THE  TRINITY. 


161 


oetween  things  of  so  contrarj'  natures  as  soul  and  body, 
why  not  between  two  or  three  created  spirits  1  The  ques- 
tion is,  as  he  now  stales  it  himself,  why  may  not  three 
intelligent  substances  be  united  1  And  hither  he  (with 
jialpable  violence)  immediately  refers,  the  mention  of  the 
union  of  soul  and  body;  and,  says  he,  "Why,  Sir,  are 
body  and  soul  intelligent  substances!"  And,  say  I,  But 
why.  Sir,  are  not  the  three  (supposed)  created  spiiits  in- 
telligent substances  1  And  now,  thinKs  he,  will  my  easy 
admiring  readers,  tJiat  read  me  only,  and  not  him,  say, 
What  a  baffle  hath  he  given  the  inquirer  !  What  an  igno- 
rant man  is  this  Mr. ,  to  talk  of  soul  and  body,  as  both 

intelligent  substances!  But  if  any  of  them  happen  upon 
the  inquirer's  book  too,  thei;  must  ihey  say,  How  scurvily 
doth  this  matter  turn  upon  himself!  how  inconsiderate  a 
prevaricator  was  he  that  took  upon  him  the  present  part  of 
a  considerer,  so  to  represent  him  !  And  I  myself  would 
say,  had  I  the  opportunity  of  free  discourse  with  him  in  a 
corner,  (which  because  I  have  not,  I  say  it  here,)  Sir,  is 
this  sincere  writing  1  Is  this  the  way  to  sift  out  truth  1 
And  I  niust  further  say,  this  looks  like  a  man  stung  by  the 
pungency  of  the  present  question.  "  If  soul  and  body, 
things  of  so  contrar)-  natures,  that  is,  of  an  intelligent  and 
unintelligent  nature,  can  be  united  into  one  (human)  na- 
ture, why  may  not  three  created  spirits,  all  intelligent  na- 
tures, be  as  well  united  into  some  one  thing  1  It  appears 
you  knew  not  what  to  say  to  it ;  and  would  fain  seem  to 
say  something,  when  you  really  had  nothing  to  say,  and 
therefore  so  egregiously  tergiversate,  and  feign  yourself 
not  to  understand  it,  or  that  your  antagonist  did  not  under- 
stand himself.  The  inquirer's  scope  was  manifest.  No- 
thing was  to  be  got  by  so  grossly  perverting  it.  Is  there 
no  argument  but  a  pari?  Might  you  not  plainly  see,  he 
here  argued  a  fortiori  ?  If  contrary  natures  niight  be  so 
united,  why  not  much  rather  like  natures  1 

When  3'ou  ask  me  this  question,  "  Do  not  bod}''  and  soul 
remain  two  sulstances,  a  bodily  and  a  spiritual,  not- 
withstanding their  concurrence  to  the  constitution  of  a 
manl"  I  answer,  Yes.  And  I  thank  you.  Sir,  for  this 
kind  look  towards  my  hypothesis.  If  thej'  were  not  so, 
the  mention  of  this  union  had  no  way  served  it.  You 
know  'tis  only  union,  with  continuing  distinction,  that  is 
for  m}'  purpose.  I  doubt  you  nodded  a  little,  when  you 
asked  me  that  question  ;  and  I  do  annuere. 

But  when  the  discourse  was  only  of  a  natural  union, 
what,  in  the  name  of  wonder,  made  you  dream  of  a  Christ- 
mas-pie 1  Had  you  writ  it  at  the  same  time  of  3'ear  I 
am  now  writing,  I  should  have  wondered  less.  Btit  either 
you  had  some  particular,  preternatural  appetite  to  that  sort 
of  delicate;  or  you  gave  your  fancy  a  random  liberty,  to 
make  your  pen  write  whatever  came  to  your  fingers'  end, 
and  that  whirled  you  unaware  into  a  pastry,  and  so,  by 
mere  chance,  you  came  to  have  3^our  finger  in  the  pie.  Or 
you  thought  to  try  whether  this  wild  ramble  might  not  issue 
as  luckily  for  you,  as  Dr.  Echard's  jargon  of  words  for- 
tuitously put  together  (to  ridicule  Hobbes's  fatal  chain  of 
thoughts)  at  length  ending  in  a  napkin ;  which  was  mighti- 
ly for  your  turn,  in  your  present  case. 

But  upon  the  wliole  matter,  when  you  let  your  mind  so 
unwarily  be  in  palinis,  your  cookery  quite  spoiled  j'our 
philosophy.  Otherwise,  when  j'ou  had  newly  read  those 
words  in  the  Sober  Inquiry,  as  I  find  you  had,  page  138. 
"  Waiving  the  many  artificial  unions  of  distinct  things,  that 
united,  and  coniinuingdistinct,  make  one  thing  under  one 
name,  I  shall  only  consider  what  is  natural,"  you  would 
never  let  it  (3'our  mind,  I  mean  so  fine  a  thing)  be  huddled 
up,  and  sopped,  with  meat,  plums,  sugar,  wine,  in  a 
Christmas-pie ;  or  have  thought  that  the  union  of  a  human 
soul  with  a  human  bod}'  was  like  such  a  jumble  as  this. 
I  believe  when  some  among  the  ancients  made  use  of  this 
union  of  soul  and  body,  (as  I  find  the}'  have,)  to  represent 
a  very  sacred,  viz.  the  h3'postatical  one,  they  little  thought 
it  would  be  so  debased ;  or  that  any  thing  would  be  said 
of  it  so  extravagant  as  this.  And,  if  we  design  doing  any 
body  good  by  writing,  let  us  give  over  this  way  of  talk,  lest 
people  think,  what  I  remember  Cicero  once  said  of  the 
Epicureans  arguing,  that  they  do  not  .so  much  consider, 
as  sortiri,  cast  lota  what  to  sav.  But  now  'tis  like  we  may 
come  to  some  closer  discourse.  V/e  see  what  is  said  to 
the  inquirer's  elucidation  of  his  h}-pothesi>  to  represent  it 


possible,  which  b3'  mere  oversight  and  incogitance  (as  I 
hope  now  appears)  was  too  hastily  pronounced  an  over- 
sight, or  incogitancy. 

2.  We  are  next  to  consider  what  he  says  to  prove  it  im- 
possible. And  so  far  as  I  can  apprehend  the  drift  of  ihe 
discourse,  what  he  alleges  will  be  reduced  to  these  two 
heads  of  argument,  viz. — that  three  such  hypostases  (or 
stibsisients,  as  I  have  chosen  to  call  them)  can  have  no 
possible  nexus,  by  which  to  be  one  God:  (1.)  Because 
they  are  all  suppo.sed  intelligent:  (2.)  Because  they  can 
neither  be  said  to  be  finite,  nor  infinite.  He  should  not 
therefore  have  said  the  hypothesis  was  mere  incogitance 
and  oversight ;  for  he  knows  1  saw,  and  considered  them 
both;  (in  the  Sober  Inquiry  itself:  the  former,  page  138, 
the  latter,  page  143,  with  page  149,)  and  thought  them  un- 
concluding  then,  as  I  still  think.  Nor  do  1  find  the  con- 
siderer hath  now  added  any  strength  to  either  of  them. 
But  I  .shall,  since  he  is  importune,  go  to  the  reconsidera- 
tion of  them  with  him.     And, 

(1.)  As  to  the  former,  I  cannot  so  much  as  imagine  what 
should  make  him,  confessing  (which  he  could  not  help) 
the  actual  union  of  an  intelligent  and  unintelligent  being, 
deny  the  possible  union  of  intelligent  beings.  He  seems 
to  apprehend  many  dangeious  things  in  it,  that  if  he  can- 
not reason  he  may  fright,  a  man  out  of  it,  and  out  of  his 
wits  too.  It  ■will  infer  associating,  discoursing,  solacing. 
But  where  lies  the  danger  of  ail  this  1  or  to  whom  is  it 
dangerous?  He  says  it  introduces  three  omniscient,  al- 
mighty Beings,  as  I  expressly  call  them,  associating,  &c. 
But  he  cites  no  place  where,  and  I  challenge  him  to  name 
any  persons  among  whom,  I  so  expressly  called  them.  He 
may  indeed  tell  wheie  I  blamed  him  for  representing  some 
of  his  adversaries,  as  afiirming  three  Almighties,  and  de- 
nying more  than  one;  but  that  is  not  expressly  calling 
them  so  myself  And  he  ma}-  know  in  time  'tis  one  thing 
expressly  to  call  them  so,  and  another  to  put  him  (as  he  is 
concerned)  to  disprove  it. 

Aye,  but  it  will  further  infer  tritheism.  It  will  make 
three  Gods.  And  if  this  be  not  to  make  three  Gods,  it  can 
never  be  made  appear  that  the  pagans  held  moie  gods. 
Yes,  if  there  be  no  natural,  vital  ncxvs,  if  they  be  united  in 
one,  of  which  the  pagans  never  talked :  or,  if  they  be  co- 
ordinate, not  subordinate,  as  Dr.  Cudworth  .speaks.  And 
I  add,  if  that  subordination  be,  not  arbitrary,  but  by  neces- 
sary, natural,  continual  emanation  of  the  second  from  the 
first,  and  of  the  third  from  both  the  other  ;  so  as  that  their 
goings  forth  may  be  truly  from  everlasting,  as  is  said 
of  the  one,  and  may  as  well  be  conceived  of  another  of 
them. 

I  would  have  the  trinitarians  be  content  with  tlie  re- 
proach of  falling  in,  quoad  hoc,  with  Plato;  and  not  en^y 
their  antagonists  the  honour  of  more  closely  following 
Mahomet.  And,  Sir,  there  is  more  paganism  in  denying 
this,  and  the  divine  revelation  upon  which  it  is  grounded, 
than  in  supposing  it. 

No.  But  there  can  be  no  such  «i».r«5.  Conversation,  con- 
.sociation,  mutual  harmony,  agreement,  and  delectation — 
cannot  be  conceived,  but  between  beings  so  distinct  and 
diverse,  that  they  can  be  one  in  no  natural  respect,  but 
only  in  a  civil,  or  economical.  This  is  loud,  and  earnest. 
But  why  can  there  nof?  Setting  aside  noise  and  clamour, 
I  want  to  know  a  reason,  why  intelligent  beings  may  not 
be  as  intimately  and  naturally  united  with  one  another,  as 
unintelligent  and  intelligent!  and  if  so,  why  such  union 
should  spoil  mutual  conversation  and  delight  1  Perhaps 
his  mind  and  mine  might  not  do  well  together  ;  for  he  can- 
not conceive,  and  I,  for  my  part,  cannot  but  conceive,  that 
most  perfect  intelligent  natures,  vitally  united,  must  have 
the  most  delightful  conversation,  harmony,  and  agreement 
together ;  and  so  much  the  more,  by  how  much  the  more 
perfect  they  are,  and  by  how  much  more  perfect  their 
union  is. 

Whereas  then  I  expect  a  reason,  why  intelligent  beings 
cannot  be  capable  of  natural  union,  and  no  other  is  given 
me,  but  because  they  are  intelligent.  And  again,  why  such 
beings  naturally  united  cannot  converse,  and  no  other  is 
given  me,  but  because  they  are  naturally  united,  ?".  e.  such 
things  cannot  be,  because  they  cannot  be.  By  1  ow  much 
the  less  such  reasons  have  to  convince,  they  have  the  more 
to  confirm  me,  that  the  hypothesis  I  have  proposed  is  ncl 


IbS 


A  VIEW  OF  THE  LATE  CONSIDERATIONS 


capable  of  being  disproved.  And  for  my  increased  con- 
fidence I  must  profess  myself  so  far  beholden  to  the  con- 
siderator. 

This,  in  the  mean  time,  I  do  here  declare,  that  I  see  not 
so  much  as  the  shadow  of  a  reason  from  him,  why  three 
spiritual  or  intelligent  beings  cannot  be  natvirally  and 
vitally  united  with  each  other,  with  continuing  distinction, 
so  as  "to  be  really  and  truly  one  thing.  If  they  cannot,  1 
would  know  why  1  i.  e.  Why  they  cannot  as  well,  or  much 
rather  than  the  soul  and  body,  so  as  to  be  one  entire  man. 
If  they  can,  such  a  created  union  is  acknowledged  pos- 
sible; which  is  all  that  part  of  our  discourse  contends  for. 
And  'tis  enough  for  our  present  purpose;  for  this  will  be 
a  union  of  o^ooiitna,  i.  e.  of  things  of  the  same  nature,  the 
soul  and  body  are  hepovaia,  i.  e.  things  of  very  different 
natures.  And  it  sufficiently  prepared  our  way,  as  was  in- 
tended, to  advance  further,  and  add. 

That  if  such  a  created  or  made  union  be  possible,  it 
cannot  be  understood  why  a  like  uncreated  or  unmade 
union  should  be  thought  impossible. 

And  if  it  be  possible,  the  noisy  clamour,  that  a  trinity  in 
the  Godhead  is  impossible,  or  that  it  will  infer  tritheism, 
must  cease,  and  be  hushed  into  everlasting  silence.  Or  if 
it  shall  still  be  resolved  to  be  kept  up,  to  carry  on  the 
begun  humour,  can  only  serve  to  fright  children,  or  un- 
thinking people  ;  but  can  never  be  made  articulate  enough, 
to  have  any  signification  with  men  of  sense.  For  when  the 
Father  is  acknowledged  on  all  hands  to  be  the  original,  or 
fountain-being,  existing  necessarily  and  eternally  of  him- 
self;  the  Son  existing  by  eternal  promanation  necessarily 
of,  and  from,  and  in  the  Father ;  the  Holy  Ghost  of  and 
in  them  both ;  these,  because  they  all  exist  necessarily, 
cannot  but  be  each  of  them  God,  and,  because  they  exist 
in  necessary,  natural,  eternal  union,  cannot  but  be  one 
God. 

And  he  that  shall  attempt  to  make  tritheism  of  this,  will 
sooner  prove  himself  not  a  third  part  of  a  wise  man,  than 
from  hence  prove  three  Gods.  We  may  truly  and  fitly 
say,  the  Father  is  God,  the  Son  is  God,  the  Holy  Ghost  is 
God;  but  that  form  of  speech,  the  Father  is  a  God,  the 
Son  is  a  God,  the  Holy  Ghost  is  a  God,  I  think  unjusti- 
fiable. The  former  way  of  speaking  well  agrees  with  the 
hotiiu-ou.notes  of  the  Deity,  the  substance  whereof  is  con- 
generous. You  may  fitly  say  of  three  drops  of  the  same 
water,  they  are  each  of  ihem  water.  But  if  3'ou  should 
say  they  are  each  of  them  a  water,  one  would  understand 
you  to  mean  they  were  all  drops  of  so  many  dilferent  sorts 
of  water.  I  do  upon  the  whole  judge  the  substance  or 
essence  of  the  three  hypostases,  to  be  as  perfectly  one,  as 
can  possibly  consist  with  the  emanation  of  some  from  other 
of  them.     But  now  next, 

(2.)  In  his  way  to  his  second  topic  of  argumentation,  he 
is  guilty  of  a  strange  sort  of  omission,  i.  e.  he  twice  over 
says  he  will  omit,  what  he  greatly  insists  upon,  as  a  mighty 
matter,  that  this  (meaning  the  inquirer's  hypothesis)  is 
heresy  among  those  of  his  own  party,  whether  they  be  the 
nominal  or  the  real  trinitarians;  who  all  agree,  that  each 
of  the  divine  persons  is  perfect  God,  in  the  most  adequate 
and  perfect  sense ;  and  this  too,  as  such  person  is  con- 
sidered sejunctly,  or,  as  the  Athanasian  creed  speaks,  by 
himself,  &c. 

To  this  I  only  say,  in  the  first  place,  that  if  this  weigh 
any  thing,  it  ought  in  reason  to  be  as  heavy  upon  him,  as 
me;  for  I  believe  the  same  people  that  will  call  this  ac- 
count of  the  trinity  heresy,  will  call  his  denial  of  it  heresy 
much  more.  But  if  he  be  not  concerned  at  that,  I  am  the 
more  obliged  to  him,  that  he  hath  a  kinder  concern  for  me 
than  himself  And  if  he  really  have,  let  it  ease  his  mind 
to  know,  that  let  the  opinion  be  heresy  never  so  much,  I, 
for  my  part,  am  however  resolved  to  be  no  heretic,  as  he 
and  they  may  well  enough  see,  by  the  whole  tenor  of  that 
discourse. 

But  yet  I  humbly  crave  leave  to  differ  from  him  in  this, 
as  well  as  in  greater  matters.  I  am  apt  enough,  indeed,  to 
think  that  the  nominal  trinitarians  will  judge  the  opinion 
of  the  real  trinitarians  to  want  truth;  and  the  real  will, 
perhaps,  more  truly  judge  theirsio  want  sense.  But  neither 
the  one  nor  the  other  will  say  that  each  of  the  divine  per- 
sons is  perfect  God,  in  the  most  adequate  and  perfect 
g  Ciiispsliones  aliie. 


sense.  For  both  cannot  but  agree  that  God,  in  the  most 
adequate  and  perfect  sense,  includes  Father,  Son,  and 
Holy  Ghost ;  but  they  will  none  of  them  say  that  each,  or 
any,  of  the  persons  is  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost.  And 
I  am  very  confident,  he  that  shall  so  represent  them,  will 
betray  them  by  it  into  such  inconveniences,  and  so  much 
against  their  mind  and  intent,  that  if  ever  they  did  trust 
him  as  I  believe  they  never  did  this  considerator,  to  ex- 
press their  sense  for  them,  they  never  will  do  it  more.  As 
for  Athanasius  himself,  whose  creed  he  mentions,  though 
he  often  speaks  of  an  equality  of  the  persons  in  point  of 
Godhead :  (tom.  2.  p.  576.)  yet  he  most  expressly  excepts 
the  differences  (which  I  take  to  be  very  important)  of  being 
unbegotten,  begotten,  and  proceeding.  And,  which  is  a 
difference  with  a  witness,  in  his  questions  and  answers, 
he  asks,  "How  many  causes  are  there  in  God  1"  (p.  11. 
TTdaa  diria,)  and  answers,  "  one  only,  and  that  is  the 
Father."  And  then  asks,  (CL.  12.  vdaa  dinuTa)  "  How 
many  effects,  or  things  caused  1"  And  answers,  "  two,  the 
Son  and  the  Spirit."  ,  And  adds,  •'  the  Father  is  called  a 
cause,  because  he  begets  the  Son,  and  sends  out  the  Spirit; 
the  Son  and  Spirit  are  said  to  be  caused,  because  the  Sou 
is  begotten,  and  doth  not  beget;  the  Spirit  is  sent  forth, 
and  doth  not  send."  Now  can  he  be  thought  all  this 
while  to  mean  an  absolute  equality  1  And  whereas  he  uses 
the  term  inwaSiKois,  which  our  author  renders  sejimdhj,  or 
by  himself,  that  he  may  make  it  seem  opposite  to  what  is 
said  by  the  inquirer,  page  156.  I,  for  my  part,  say,  as 
Athanasius  doth,  that  each  of  the.se  persons  is  nova6tKO!i, 
singly  God,  and  Lord  ;  but  I  say  not,  as  he  doth  not,  (and 
he  denies  what  the  Sober  Inquiry  denies,  in  the  mentioned 
place,)  "  that  any  one  of  the  persons  sejunctly,  is  all  that 
is  signified  by  the  name  of  God  ;"  which  words  this  author 
slily  leaves  out,  for  what  purpose  he  best  knows.  But  liis 
])urpose,  be  it  what  it  will,  can  no  longer  be  served  by  it, 
than  till  the  reader  shall  lake  the  pains  to  cast  back  his 
eye  upon  the  Sober  Inquiry,  vide  page  141.  And  I  must 
here  put  the  considerator  in  mind  of  what  I  will  not  sup- 
pose him  ignorant,  but  inadvertent  only,  at  this  time; 
That  one  may  be  sejoined  or  abstracted  from  another  two 
ways,  or  by  a  twofold  abstraction,  precisive  or  negative  : 
that  we  may  truly  say  of  the  Father,  Son,  or  Holy  Ghost, 
that  the  one  of  them  is  or  is  not  God,  abstracting  from 
both  the  other,  accordingly  as  you  differently  abstract.  If 
you  abstract  any  one  of  the  persons  from  both  the  other  by 
precisive  abstraction,  and  each  of  them  is  God  or  Lord, 
jinmiiKioi  or  Singly  considered  ;  but  if  by  negative  abstrac- 
tion, you  sever  any  one  from  the  other,  so  as  to  say  the 
one  is  God,  and  not  the  other,  or  any  one  is  all  that  is 
signified  by  the  name  of  God,  I  deny  it,  as  before  I  did; 
for  so  you  would  exclude  the  other  two  the  Godhead ; 
which  is  but  what  was  expressly  enough  said.  Sober  In- 
quiry, page  141.  The  Father  is  God,  but  not  excluding 
the  Son  and  the  Holy  Ghost;  the  Son  is  God,  but  not 
excluding — &c. 

And  if  (as  this  author  quotes)  we  are  compelled  by  the 
Christian  verity  so  to  speak,  I  wonder  it  should  not  com- 
pel him,  as  it  is  Christian  verity,  or  at  least  as  it  is  verit}^ 
as  well  as  the  rest  of  Christians,  or  mankind.  Why  hath 
he  only  the  privilege  of  exemption  from  being  compelled 
by  truth  1  Athanasius's  word  is  hvayKa^iiinBa.  we  are  ne- 
cessitated ;  and  if  the  considerator's  own  translation  grieve 
him,  he  might  relieve  himself  by  considering  that  all  ne- 
cessity is  not  compulsive.  And  because  he  hath  brought 
me  to  Athanasius,  I  shall  take  the  occasion  to  say,  I  can- 
not apprehend  him  to  have  any  sentiment  contrary  to  this 
hypothesis.  His  business  was  against  the  Arians,  or  the 
Ariomanites  (as  he  often  called  them,  as  symbolizing  al.so 
with  Manes.)  And  because  Avith  them  the  controversy 
was,  "  whether  the  Son  and  Spirit  were  creatures'?"  m 
opposition  hereto  he  constantly  as.serts  their  consubstan- 
tialitjr  with  the  Father,  never  intending  (for  aught  that 
appears)  that  their  being  was  numerically  the  same  with 
his  ;  but  of  the  same  kind,  uncreated,  coessential,  coeternal 
with  his  own.  For  so  he  expressly  speaks  in  his  '  other  or 
additional  questions,  i.  e.  asking  (quest.  6.)  "  How  many 
essences  ndrra?  ovfria?,  i.  c.  how  many  sorts  of  essence  (as  the 
answer  will  direct  us  to  rmderstnnd  it)  do  you  acknowledge 
in  God  V 


ADDRESSED  TO  H.  H.  ABOUT  THE  TRINITY. 


163 


The  answer  is,  I  say,  "one  essence,  one  nature,  one 
form,"  (iiopfhi',)  and  adds,  "  one  kind,"  (rV  ytw?,)  which 
sufficiently  expounds  all  the  rest.  He  acknowledged  no 
ditferent  kinds  of  essence  or  nature  in  the  Godhead,  but 
that  one  only,  which  was  eternal  and  uncreated  ;  ai,'reea- 
blv  to  what  he  elsewhere  saysh  against  the  followers  of 
Sabellius.  "  'Tis  impossible  things  not  eternal  beings,  not 
partaking  Godhead,  should  be  ranked  or  put  in  the  same 
order  with  the  Godhead."  Afterwards  speaking  of  the 
Father  and  the  Son,  he  says,  T<novTOi  crt"  ^mof  kukuvo^.  the 
one  is  such  (not  the  same)  as  the  other,  the  other  such  as 
he.  And  that  the  Son  was  not  to  be  conceived  under  ano- 
ther species,  (.a9'  'iTt?-}v  tX^os,)  not  under  a  strange  and  fo- 
reign charac:er,  {^h'ov  yapaKriipa,')  but  was  God  as  the  Fa- 
ther. And  I  appeal  to  any  man's  understanding  and  con- 
science, if  that  great  author  believed  a  numerical  sameness 
of  essence,  common  to  the  three  persons,  what  should 
make  him  blame  the  Sabellians  for  i  making  the  Son 
fiovooiaiov,  not  'ojioovaioi>,  when  by  the  latter,  in  that  case,  he 
must  mean  the  same  thing  as  by  the  former  1 

In  the  forecited  questions,  he  expressl}"  says  we  were  to 
acknowledge  in  the  Deity  rpm  arojia,  three  individuals. 
Answ'jr  to  question  7.  nbi  prius.  And  elsewhere  he  as 
distinctly  asserts  rpia  npayfiara,  three  things.  And  what 
could  he  mean  by  three  things,  not  three  deities,  (as  he 
often  inculcates,)  but  he  must  certainly  mean  three  enti- 
ties, three  essences ;  for  by  three  things,  he  could  not  pos- 
sibly mean  three  non-entities,  or  three  nothings.  His 
great  care  plainly  was  to  assert  the  true  Deity  of  the  Son 
and  Spirit,  or  their  pre-eternity,  or  that  it  could  never  be 
said  {nv  ore  o,v  jji)  there  was  a  time  when  they  were  not, 
which  he  inculcates  in  a  hundred  places,  still  insisting 
that  one  deity,  one  essence  was  common  to  them,  but  still 
■with  distinction;  andas  warmly  inveighs  against  Sabellius 
and  P.  Samosatensis,  as  against  Arius,  eveiy  whit. 

And  that  which  puts  his  meaning  quite  out  of  doubt,  k 
speaking  how  the  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit,  though  of  one 
and  the  same  sort  of  essence,  are  three  hypostases,  he  plainly 
says  the  nature  wherein  they  partake  is  so  one,  as  the  hu- 
man nature  is  one  in  all  men.  We  men,  saith  he,  consist- 
ing of  a  body  and  a  soul,  are  all  ^lu?  fiatoi,  *-ui  oiaiac,,  of 
one  nature  and  substance,  or  essence  ;  but  we  are  many  hy- 
postases. And  to  the  same  purpose  (Dial.  2.  de  Trinitate) 
his  anovueos  comparing  the  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit,  to  a 
bishop,  presbyter,  and  deacon,  he  brings  in  the  orthodox 
saying,  they  have  all  the  same  nature,  being  each  of  them 
man  ;  as  an  angel,  a  man,  and  a  horse,  have  different  na- 
tures. 

In  the  mean  time,  because  men  are  not  inseparably  and 
vitally  united  with  one  another,  as  the  Divine  Persons  are, 
and  cannot  but  be,  by  reason  of  the  necessary,  eternal,  per- 
petual emanation  of  the  two  latter  from  the  first,  they  can- 
not admit  to  be  called  one  man,  as  the  three  persons  in  the 
Godhead  are,  and  cannot  but  be  one  God.  Insomuch  a.s 
these  three  Divine  Persons  partake  real  Godhead  (as  ex- 
isting necessarily  each  of  them)  they  are  each  truly  God ; 
but  because  they  partake  it  in  necessary,  eternal,  vital 
union ;  and  so  that  the  first  is  the  radix,  the  second  perpe- 
tually springing  from  the  first,  and  the  third  from  both  the 
other,  the)'  are  therefore  together  one  God  as  branches, 
though  really  distinct  from  each  other,  and  the  root,  are 
altogether  notwithstanding  but  one  tree,  and  all  hfimoousial, 
or  cnnsnbstajttial  to  one  another  :  which  is  an  illustration 
familiar  with  the  ancients.  And  if  there  be  any,  now-a-days, 
that  will  call  this  heresy,  (though  as  I  said,  I  will  be  no  he- 
retic however,)  yet  if  I  must  make  a  choice,  I  had  rather 
be  a  heretic  with  the  Ante-Nicene  and  Nicene  fathers,  and 
Post  Nicene,  for  ought  appears  to  the  contrary,  through 
some  following  centuries,  than  be  reputed  orthodox  with 
P.  Lombard,  &c.  whom  a  German  divine,  not  of  meanest 
account,  calls  "one  of  the  four  evangelists  of  antichrist." 

But  having  now  done  with  what  he  said  he  would  omit, 
but  did  not,  (though  he  might  to  every  whit  as  good  pur- 
pose,) we  come  to  what  he  overlooks  not,  because  (he  inti- 
mates) he  cannot.  And  let  us  see  whether  he  looks  into 
it,  to  any  better  purpose  than  if  he  had  quite  overlooked  it. 
He  is  indeed  the  more  excusable  that  he  overlooks  it  not, 

h  Contra  .Sahellii  Gregatcs. 

i  EkC  -ni-.  Tom   \   ?'.  ^-ll.  EMit  Paris. 

k.  Tractat.  de  Defiiiitionibus,  Tom.  2.  43.  ubi.  vid.  plura. 


because  (he  says)  he  could  not.  In  tliat  ca.se  there  is  no 
remedy.  Nor  do  I  see  how  he  well  could,  when  the  sober 
inquirer  had  once  and  again  so  directly  put  it  in  his  view, 
and,  as  was  said,  objected  it  to  himself.  But  he  thinks, 
however,  to  make  an  irrefragable  battering  ram  of  it, 
wherewith  to  shiver  this  doctrine  of  the  trinity  all  to 
pieces ;  and  he  brings  it  into  play  with  the  two  horns  before 
mentioned.  The  Father,  he  says,  for  instance,  is  either 
infinite  in  his  substance,  his  wisdom,  his  power,  his  good- 
ness, or  he  is  not.  With  the  like  pompous  apparatus,  and 
even  in  the  same  terms, i  1  find  a  series  of  argumentatioc 
is  by  a  noted  sceptic  adorned,  and  set  forth  against  the  be- 
ing, of  any  God  at  all.  If  there  be  any  Divine  Being,  'tis 
either  finite  or  infinite,  tfc.  And  he  reasons  upon  each 
head,  as  the  matter  could  admit,  and  probably  thought  as 
well  of  the  performance  as  our  author  doth  of  his. 

But  let  us  see  how  much  to  the  purpose  our  author  uses 
it  in  the  present  case.  The  inquirer  had  represented»»hree 
really  distinct  subsistents  in  the  Godhead  as  po.ssible,  for 
ought  we  know,  not  presuming  to  determine  herein,  this 
way  or  that,  beyond  what  is  plain  in  itself,  or  plainly  re- 
vealed. And  so  still  he  thinks  it  may  be,  for  ought  he  knows ; 
for  he  professes  not  to  know  any  thing  to  the  contrary.  Yes, 
saith  the  considerator,  but  I  do.  No  doubt,  if  any  man. 
But  say  I,  How  know  you  1  I  know,  saith  he,  they  can 
neither  be  finite  nor  infinite,  therefore  there  can  bo  no  such 
thing  at  all.  But,  say  I,  do  you  know  wliat  infinite  is,  or 
can  you  comprehend  it  1  ™  Yes,  very  well,  says  he,  for  I 
have  an  infinite,  all-comprehending  mind.  What  a  cy- 
clopic  understanding  is  this!  Nay,  and  he  pretends  he 
can  comprehend  the  very  being  of  God  (otherwise  all  re- 
ligion must  cease)  after  he  had  granted,  "we  (including 
himself)  cannot  comprehend  the  least  spire  of  grass." 
And  yet  that  being  of  God  is  nothing  el.'-e  with  him,  but 
existence,  {i.e.  not  to  be  nothing,)  which  he  there  vafrous- 
ly  inserts,  but  very  imprudently  ;  for  every  one  sees  he 
said  it  only  to  avoid  the  purpose  he  was  to  speak  to,  and 
so  said  it  not  to  any  present  good  purpose  at  all ;  as  if  it 
had  been  the  bishop's  word,  and  all  one  with  God's  being. 
'Tis  true  that  his  being  includes  his  existeijce:  but  hath 
he  therefore  a  clear,  distinct,  and  adequate  conception  what 
God  is,  because  he,  indistinctly,  conceives  a  being,  vulgar- 
ly signified  by  the  name  of  God,  doth  exist  1  Bring  the 
matter  to  creatures,  and  because  he  knows,  as  he  may  by 
the  sight  of  his  eye,  that  such  a  creature  exists,  doth  he 
therefore  understand  its  nature  1  Existence  is  to  be  extra 
causas,  and  this  is  common  to  all  creatures;  as  to  be  ne- 
cessarily, and  without  a  cause,  is  peculiar  to  God.  If 
therefore  exi.stence  and  their  beingbe  all  one,  all  creatures 
are  the  same,  and  differ  not  from  one  another  ;  for  to  be 
extra  causas  is  that  wherein  they  all  agree.  And  extend 
it  further,  as  existence  is  to  be,  mrervm  natvra,  abstract- 
ing from  being  caused,  oruncaused  ;  and  so  God  and  crea- 
tures will  be  all  one.  And  see  whether  this  will  not  make 
all  religion  cease  too  % 

But  if  he  say,  though  existence  abstractly  taken  distin- 
guishes not  God  from  creatures;  yet  his  existence  doth 
distinguish  him.  Very  true  ;  but  that  leads  us  hack  to 
the  consideration  of  his  being,  of  what  sort  that  is.  Which, 
therefore,  if  he  had  pleased,  he  might  as  well  have  let 
stand  before  as  it  was;  and  might  have  considered  that 
existence,  and  that  which  doth  exist,  are  not  of  the  same 
import.  Or  that  it  is  not  all  one,  to  say  that  God  doth  ex- 
ist, and  what  he  is  that  doth  exist. 

But  it  will  be  worth  the  while  to  examine  alittle  further 
this  author's  comprehension  of  infinites.  He  says  it  is  to 
have  a  clear,  distinct,  and  adequate  conception  of  them; 
so  he  comprehends  the  infinite  attributes  of  God.  His 
eternity,  i-  e.  that  duration  by  which  he  is  without  all  be- 
ginning and  end.  This  tells  us  what  it  is  not.  But  doth 
it  tell  us  what  it  is?  q.  d.  An  infinite  duration  is  a  bound- 
less duration:  a  grammatical  definition!  or  rather  a  mere 
translation  of  Latin  into  English.  And  so  he  might  teach 
a  mere  Latinisi  what  boundless  is,  by  turning  the  English 
back  again  into  Latin.  And  greatly  hath  he  edified  his 
disciple  !  As  much  as  he  should,  without  such  change  of 
language,  by  saying  invasion  is  invasion.     And  doth  he 

1  £1  eart  ri  Ori-^i;  77701  -KnTepaaftevov  ij  airetpov,  &c.  Sext.  Empir.  advereua 
Matlinnialiro.5,  I.il>.  S. 
ra  Considerations  on  the  Lord  Bishop  of  Worcester's  Scnnon,  p.  7,  8. 


164 


A  VIEW  OF  THE  LATE  CONSIDERATIONS. 


give  any  better  account  of  infinite  wisdom  and  power  1 
Are  his  conceptions  of  them  clear  and  distinct  1  'Tis  pos- 
sible to  know  much,  and  not  be  very  wise.  I  do  not  think 
that  therefore,  which  he  gives,  a  very  good  account  of 
wisdom.  Again,  knowing  is  doing  somewhat.  He  speaks 
not  now  of  making  this  or  that,  but  more  generally  of  do- 
ing any  thing.  Nor  doth  any  one  know  any  thing,  but 
what  he  can  know.  Therefore  his  wisdom  is  power  ;  for 
so  is  an  ability  to  know,  power,  as  truly  as  an  ability  to  do 
any  thing  else.  Here  is  confusion,  therefore,  instead  of 
distinction.  And  to  the  comprehending  any  thing,  I 
should  think  it  as  requisite  a  man's  conception  be  true  as 
distinct.  Now  when  he  pretends  to  have  distmct  concep- 
tions of  God's  infinite  wisdom  and  power,  and  if  also  his 
conceptions  be  true,  those  infinite  attributes  aie  distinct. 
I  am  sure  he  comprehends  them  not,  if,  whereas,  he  clear- 
ly conceives  them  distinct,  they  are  not  so.  But  if  they 
are  dfetinct,  they  are  distinct,  what  1  Substances'?  or  ac- 
cidents 1  If  the  former,  according  to  him,  distinct  divine 
substances  must  be  distinct  Gods.  If  the  latter,  let  him 
weather  the  difliculties  as  he  can  of  admitting  accidents 
in  the  Divine  Being.  Either  way,  he  must  as  little  pre- 
tend to  believe  an  omnimodous  simplicity  there,  as  the  in- 
quirer. But  would  he  then  have  him  give  better  and  ful- 
ler conceptions  of  these  infinite  attributes,  or  rather  of  the 
infinity  of  them,  which  is  his  present  business"?  No,  no, 
tliat  is  none  of  the  inquirer's  part.  He  pretends  not  to 
comprehend  infiniteness.  'Tis  enough  for  o7j,e,  among  mor- 
tals, to  offer  at  that  ingcns  ausum,  so  great  a  thing ! 

When  again  he  says  his  conception  of  the  infinite  di- 
vine wisdom,  power,  &c.  is  adequate,  telling  us  they  are 
those  properties  whereby  God  knows,  and  can  do,  whatso- 
ver  implies  not  a  contradiction  to  be  known,  and  done.  I 
ask,  but  doth  he  comprehend  in  his  mind  all  those  things 
which  it  implies  not  a  contradiction  for  him  to  know  and 
do  !  If  not,  what  is  become  of  his  adequate  conception  1 
He  may  so  comprehend  all  that  the  most  learned  book 
contains,  because  he  knows  the  title,  or  something  of  its 
cover;  and  he  hath  a  very  adequate  conception  of  all  that 
is  contained  in  the  universe,  because  he  has  some  general 
notion  of  what  is  signified  by  the  word  world.  Let  him 
then  pretend  as  long  as  he  please  to  comprehend  infinite- 
ness, no  sober  man  will  believe  him,  and  the  less  because 
he  pretends  it.  If  he  put  his  mind  upon  the  trial,  and  deal 
justly  and  truly  when  he  hath  tried,  I  would  ask  him,  let 
him  put  the  notion  of  infiniteness  upon  what  he  pleases, 
space,  for  instance,  whether,  as  he  thinks  away  any  what- 
soever bounds  of  it,  new  ones  do  not  immediately  succeed ; 
and  let  him  think  away  those,  whetlier  still  he  doth  not 
presently  conceive  new  1  Yes,  but  he  can  divert  and  think 
no  more  of  it,  i.  e.  he  can  think  what  infinite  is,  by  not 
thinking!  And  yet,  if  he  did  understand  infinites  never 
so  well,  it  would  be  no  small  spite  to  him  if  a  man  did  but 
assert  the  infiniteness  of  one  of  the  persons,  (the  Father,) 
and  only  iT^yf'"  as  to  the  other  two,  as  knowing  their  inti- 
mate union  with  him,  makes  his  wisdom,  power,  &c.  as 
truly  theirs,  as  if  it  first  resided  in  themselves;  his  argu- 
ment is  quite  undone  by  it  to  all  intents  and  purposes. 

But  I  shall,  however,  further  state  and  weigh  this  case 
of— knowing,  or  not  knowing,  three  such  hypostases  can- 
not be  infinite;  and, 

1.  Show  what  might  cast  a  thinking  man  upon  suppo- 
sing they  may  be  all  infinite  for  ought  one  knows  : 

2.  Then  consider  the  ditficuUy  that  is  in  it. 

1.  As  to  the  former.  That  the  Father  virtually  (or  emi- 
nently rather)  comprehends  all  being,  created  and  uncrea- 
ted, there  is  no  doubt.  Nor  asrain,  that  what  is  froin  him, 
by  perpetual,  natural,  necessary  emanation,  cannot  but  be 
homoousial  to  himself,  the  Athanasian  differences  only  sup- 
posed, of  being  unbegotten,  and  begotten,  &.c.  Bat  how 
to  understand  these  is  the  difficulty ;  i.  e.  how  the  same 
numerical  nature  is  both  begotten  and  not  begotten ;  nor 
will  I  determine  it.  Let  them  do  it  that  can  better.  I  for  my 
part,  as  I  have  said,  assert  nothing  in  this  matter,  only  have 
proposed  to  be  considered  what  may  be  thought  possible 
nerein. 

But  if  any  would  set  themselves  to  consider  this  matter, 
I  would  have  them  take  the  difficulty  they  are  to  consider, 
entirely,  and  as  it  tinly  is  in  itself;  that  they  may  not  be 
n  Tliese  Considcrationsi,  p.  31,  32. 


short  in  their  reckoning.  And  to  that  purpose  to  bethink 
themselves  what  is  the  proper  character  (as  Athanasius, 
and  before  him  Justin  Martyr,  phrase  it)  or  modus  of  the 
Son  (for  instance)  that  'tis  to  be  begotten.  Thi;;,  methinks, 
should  bear  very  hard  upon  the  mere  modalisls,  who  here- 
upon must  say,  that  to  be  begotten  is  the  only  thing  begot- 
ten ;  and  so,  consequently,  that  to  be  begotten,  is  the  thing 
that  is  peculiarly  said  to  be  incarnate,  and  that  .suflered, 
(fee.  For  they  must  assign  that  which  distinguishes  the 
Son  from  the  Father,  otherwise  they  will  make  the  Father 
be  begotten,  which  is  somewhat  harder  than  to  be  Patri- 
pasxians,  or  to  make  him  to  have  suffered. 

But  it  must  also  be  upon  the  matter  even  the  same  diffi- 
culty, to  say,  "  the  same  numerical  nature,  with  the  modus, 
is  begotten."  For  then  the  same  numerical  nature  must  still 
be  both  unbegotten,  and  begotten,  which  is  very  hard.  And 
if  they  reply,  Yes,  but  under  a  distinct  modus  :  Well ;  but 
what  IS  that  distinct  modus  ?  And  when  they  find  it  is  but 
to  be  begotten,  they  must  be  hugely  abashed,  as  one  of  less 
deep  thought  than  they  would  think.  For  so,  the  nature 
being  common  both  to  the  Father  and  the  Son,  all  that  is 
peculiar  to  the  begotten  from  the  begetter,  will  still  be  but 
to  be  begotten ;  i.  e.  when  the  question  is  asked,  What  only 
is  begottCLn  1  the  answer  will  be  but  as  above.  To  be  begot- 
ten. It  hath  hitherto,  therefore,  been  only  inquired,  whe- 
ther it  will  not  seem  easier  to  suppose  each  subsistent  to 
have  its  own  singular  nature,  though  homoousial,  as  the 
two  latter  being  by  emanation  from  the  first,  it  cannot  but 
be  "?  Which  hath  been  often  inculcated,  and  is  plain  in  it- 
self. Mere  arbitrary  productions  may  be  very  diverse 
from  their  original ;  but  purely  natural,  especially  emana- 
tive,  cannot  be  so.  And  then  the  only  considerable  difficul- 
ty which  remains  is  this  now  before  us,  vi2.  the  finiteness  or 
infiniteness,  of  these  three  hypostases.  'Tis  plain  they  can- 
not all  be  finite.  But  here  our  present  adversary  places 
his  j»rincipal  pains  and  labour,  to  prove,  what  he  knows 
nobody  will  deny,  that  they  cannot  be  so.  And  hence  he 
carries  awa)'  glorious  trophies,  that  three,  or  three  thousand 
finiies,  will  never  make  one  infinite. — Spolia  ampla. 

But  how  knows  he  they  are  not  all  infinite  1  That,  in 
short,  which  he  ha!h  here  to  say,  is  but  this,  and  can  be 
no  more  than  this,  till  his  thoughts  have  run  through  and 
compassed  the  never-utmost  range  of  infiniteness,  Tt^sr.  That 
he  knows  they  are  not  he  knows  not  what !  But  how  can 
he  soberly  say  that  7  How  can  he  either  affirm  or  deny 
of  another  what  he  doth  not  understand  1  Is  this  his  de- 
monstration of  the  im»possibility  of  a  trinity  in  the  God- 
head 1  Suppose  the  Father  infinite,  cannot  the  other  two 
be  infinite  also,  for  ought  he  knows  1  How  doth  he  know 
they  cannot  1  By  the  same  medium,  by  which  he  knows 
it,  he  may  make  other  mortals  know  it  too,  if  he  think  fit  to 
communicate  it.  Which,  from  so  mighty  confidence,  es- 
pecially \^•ilen  he  pretends  it  to  be  so  ea.sy,  I  have  hitherto 
expected,  but  in  vain.  Is  it  because  the  first  is  infinite, 
therefore  the  two  other  cannot  be  sol  I  am  sure  he  ought 
not  to  say  so,  whatever  others  may,  or  whatsoever  the  truth 
of  the  thing  is,  (which  we  shall  inquire  into  by  and  by,) 
for  lie  hath  over  and  over  acknowledged  more  infinites 
than  one;  as  when  he  ascribes  infinite  comprehension  to 
the  mind  of  man,  (as  hath  been  noted,)  page  8.  of  these 
Considerations.  He  doth  not  indeed  say  the  mind  is  sim- 
ply in  itself  infinite,  but  it  is  so  in  respect  of  its  compre- 
hension, which  comprehension  must  therefore  be  infinite. 
How  agreeable  or  consistent  these  terms  are,  the  infinite 
comprehension  of  a  finite  mind,  we  are  not  to  consider  ; 
let  him  take  care  for  that,  who  can  easily  make  light  of 
such  trivial  difficulties  as  these.  But  in  the  meantime  this 
infinite  comprehension  is  an  infinite  something,  not  an  infi- 
nite nothing;  and  then  so  many  minds,  so  many  comprehen- 
sions, and  so  many  infinites.  No  doubt  he  includes  his  OAvn 
mind ;  and  'tis  possible  he  may  think  some  other  minds  as 
comprehensive  as  his  own.  And  ought  not  to  think  it  im- 
possible, supposing  an  imcrealed  eternal  Word,  and  Spirit, 
in  the  Deity,  that  they  may  be  infinite,  as  well  as  the  com- 
prehension of  his  own  and  some  other  minds.  "  Besides 
what  he  seems  to  grant  of  infinite  guilts,  and  punishments 
due,  though  he  doth  not  grant  the  Sacrifice  of  Christ  to  be 
an  equivalent  for  them.  All  .show  he  thinks  there  may  be 
many  infinites,  and  even  in  the  same  kind. 


ADDRESSED  TO  H.  II.  ABOUT  THE  TRINITY. 


165 


But  though  to  him,  to  whom  it  is  not  easy  to  guess  what 
would  be  ditficult,  this  would  seem  a  very  vincible  diffi- 
culty ;  it  is  of  much  greater  importance,  that  we  may  do 
right  to  truth,  to  consider  it  as  it  is  in  itself.  And  I  ac- 
knowledge it  (as  I  have  said  over  and  over)  to  be  in  itself 
a  great  difficulty,  as  all  sober  men  have  been  wont  to  do, 
that  have  had  any  occasion  to  employ  their  thoughts  that 
way. 

But  my  part  herein  hath  less  of  difficulty  in  it ;  which  is 
only  to  expect,  and  examine,  what  another  will  attempt  to 
prove  from  this  topic,  not  to  assert  any  thing  myself.  My 
opponent  takes  upon  him  boldly  to  pronounce,  "  there  can- 
not be  three  distinct  hypostases  in  the  Deity."  Why  1  say  I. 
Because,  saith  he,  that  will  suppose  each  of  them  infinite, 
which  cannot  be.  I  say.  Why  can  it  not  be  1  He  perhaps 
may  tell  me,  If  any  one  be  infinite,  nothing  can  be  added 
thereto,  or  be  without  its  compass,  much  less  can  there  be 
another  infinite  added  to  the  former.  I  only  now  say,  you 
talk  confidently  in  the  dark,  you  know  not  what :  and  so  as 
to  involve  yourself  in  contradictions,  do  what  you  can : 

1.  In  saying  nothing  can  be  added  to  what  is  infinite. 

2.  In  pretending  to  know,  if  any  thing  can  be  added, 
how  much  or  how  little  can. 

1.  In  saying  nothing  can  be  added  to,  or  be  without  the 
compass  of,  what  is  infinite.  For  then  there  could  be  no 
creation,  which  I  cannot  doubt  him  to  grant.  Before  there 
was  any,  was  there  not  an  infinitude  of  being  in  the  eternal 
Godhead  1  And  hath  the  creation  nothing  in  it  of  real 
being?  Or  will  you  sa}''  the  being  of  the  creature  is  the 
being  of  God  1  I  know  what  may  be  said  (and  is  else- 
where said)  to  this,  and  'twill  better  serve  my  purpose 
than  his. 

2.  In  pretending  to  know  what  can  or  cannot  be  added. 
Or  that,  in  the  way  of  necessary  eternal  emanation,  there 
cannot  be  an  infinite  addition ;  though  not  in  the  way  of 
voluntary,  or  arbitrary  and  temporary,  production.  The 
reason  of  the  difference  is  too  obvious  to  need  elucidation 
to  them  that  can  consider.  But  for  your  part  (I  must  tell 
my  antagonist)  you  have  concluded  yourself,  even  as  to 
that  which  carries  the  greatest  appearance  of  impossibility: 
come  off  as  you  can.  You  say,°  "a  body  of  an  inch  square, 
is  not  only  not  infinite  in  extension,  but  is  a  very  small  body; 
yet  it  hath  this  infinite  power,  to  be  divisible  to  infinity." 
So,  I  suppose  you  must  say  of  half  that  inch,  or  a  quarter, 
or  the  thousandth  part  of  it,  much  more  of  two,  or  twenty, 
or  a  thousand  inches.  You  say,  indeed,  "  this  body  itself 
is  not  infinite."  Nor  will  I  insist  upon  the  trite  and  common 
objection  against  5rou:  "How  can  any  thing- be  divisible 
into  parts  which  it  hath  not  in  it  1"  Which  yet  men  have 
not  talked  away,  by  talking  it  often  over.  Still  harct  latcri. 
— Nor  of  an  infinite  power^s  being  lodged  in  a  finite  (and  so 
minute  a)  subject.  But,  in  the  meantime,  here  are  infin- 
ites upon  infinites,  an  infinite  power  upon  an  infinite  power, 
multiplied  infinitely ;  and  still  these  infinite  powers  greater 
and  less  than  other,  as  either  the  inch  is  augmented  or  di- 
minished. And  he  saith, p  "  the  mind  of  man  hath  the 
property  of  infinite  or  eternal  duration."  Therefore  so 
many  minds,  so  many  infinities.  And  he  must  suppose  the 
infinite  duration  of  some  minds  to  be  greater  than  of  others, 
unless  he  think  his  own  mind  to  be  as  old  as  Adam's ;  or 
do  not  only  hold  their  pre-existence,  but  that  they  were  all 
created  in  the  same  moment.  Which  if  he  do,  I  am  sure 
he  can  never  prove.  And  so,  for  ought  he  knows,  there 
may  not  only  be  many  infinites,  but  one  greater  than  ano- 
ther. 

What  therefore  exceeds  all  limits  that  are  assignable,  or 
any  way  conceivable  by  us,  as  we  are  sure  the  Divine 
Being  doth,  it  is  impossible  for  as  to  know  what  differences 
that  vast  infinitude  contains.  And  we  shall,  therefore, 
but  talk  at  random,  and  with  much  more  presumption 
than  knowledge,  when  we  lalce  upon  us  to  pronounce  it 
impossible  there  should  be  three  infinite  hypostases  in  the 
Godhead.  Especially  considering  that  most  intimate  vital 
union  that  they  are  supposed  to  have  each  with  other,  in 
respect  whereof,  the  Son  is  said  to  be  ivz6s-ariH,  existing  in 
the  Father  (as  Athanasius's  phrase  is)  agreeably  to  the  lan- 
guage of  Scripture,  John  xiv.  11.  and  elsewhere.  And 
which,  by  parity  of  reason,  is  to  be  conceived  of  the  Holy 
Ghost  too,  who  is  also  said  to  search  all  things,  even  the 
o  Considerations,  page  B. 
15 


deep  things  of  God,  1  Cor.  ii.  10.  In  respect  of  which 
union,  and  the  ifnrcoixi'P'i'Jii,  which  may  thence  be  collected 
whatever  of  real  perfection,  wisdom,  power,  goodness,  &c! 
is  in  any  one,  is  each  one's  as  truly  as  any  one's,  all  being 
originally  in  the  Father,  as  the  first  and  everliving  Foun- 
tain of  all.  As  was  said.  Sober  Inquiry,  p.  139. 
.  But  whereas  the  considerator  urges,  "  If  the  Father  be 
infinite  in  his  substance,  in  his  wisdom,  his  power,  his 
goodness,  he  is  God  in  the  most  adequate  and  perfect 
sense  of  the  word."  I  say.  Well,  and  what  then  1  If 
therefore  he  mean  the  Son  and  the  Holy  Gho.-t  must  be 
excluded  the  Godhead,  let  him  prove  his-consequence  if 
he  can.  And  he  may  find  the  answer  to  it.  Sober  Inquiry, 
page  141.  I  shall  not  transcribe,  nor  love,  when  I  have 
writ  a  book,  to  write  it  over  again.  His  notion  may  fit 
pagans  well  enough,  or  those  who  are  not  otherwise  taught. 
Christians  are  directed  to  understand  that  the  Deity  in- 
cludes Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost.  Their  equality  I 
acknowledge  with  the  mentioned  Athanasian  exception ; 
notwithstanding  which,  that  they  equally  communicate  in 
the  most  characteristic  difference,  of  the  Deity,  from 
all  creatures,  viz.  necessity  of  existence,  is  conceivable 
enough. 

To  sum  up  all,  the  considerator  I  understand,  even  by 
the  whole  management  of  his  discourse,  and  especially  by 
the  conclusion  of  that  part  wherein  the  inquirer  is  concern- 
ed, to  have  most  entirely  given  up  this  cause,  as  ever  did 
man.  The  inquirer's  onh^  undertaking  was  to  maintain 
"  the  possibility  of  a  trinity  in  the  Godhead,"  in  opposition 
to  his  former  daring  assertion,  of  its  being  impossible,  and 
nonsense. 

He  now,  in  conclusion,  says,  the  inquirer  saw  there 
must  be  a  nexus  ;  intimating,  if  there  can,  that  he  hath 
gained  his  point;  but,  'tis  added,  "he  durst  not  venture 
to  say  what  it  was."     To  which  I  nuist  say. 

That  this  is  most  uncautiously  said ;  I  will  not  say, 
deceitfully,  though  I  know 'tis  said  untruly  :  and  he  might 
have  known  (or  remembered)  too,  that  he,  (the  inquirer) 
often  spoke  of  it,  as  a  necessary,  natural,  eternal,  vital, 
and  most  intimate  imion.  He  further  says,  he  only  ex- 
plains it  by  the  union  of  soul  and  body.     Which  asrain, 

1.  Is  so  great  a  misrepresentation,  that  I  wonder  he 
would  say  it  here,  when  he  himself  but  two  or  three  pages 
off  recites  as  the  inquirer's  words,  "  If  God  could  unite 
into  one,  two  such  contrary  natures,  let  any  man  give  me 
a  reason  why  he  might  not  (much  more)  first  make,  and 
then  unite  two,  and  if  two,  why  not  three,  spirits,"  &c.  Is 
this  only  to  explain  it  by  the  union  of  soul  and  body  ] 

But  by  the  way,  that  "  first  make,  and  then  unite,"  was 
none  of  the  inquirer's,  but  appears  thrust  in  to  make  what 
was  manifestly  po.ssihle,  seem  impossible.  Sic  notus — let 
two  substances  be  created  entire,  with  no  nafural  propen- 
sion  to  each  other,  they  are  capable  of  no  natural  union, 
without  change  of  their  natures.  Who  sees  not,  it  were  a 
contradiction  to  suppose  them  still  the  same,  and  not  the 
same?  But  suppose  them  created  with  mutual  aptitudes 
to  union,  and  united,  what  should  hinder  but  they  may 
continue  united,  without  being  confounded? 

2.  And  'tis  said  impertinently,  as  well  a-s  untruly ;  for 
what  if  he  had  not  explained  it  at  all,  is  it  therefore  im- 
possible, which  it  belonged  to  him  to  prove,  or  he  did 
nothing;  and  he  hath  done  nothing  towards  it.  I  have 
asked  him  before,  and  now  I  put  it  again  seriously  to  him, 
whether  he  do  in  his  conscience  believe  this  a  good  argu- 
ment :  "  such  a  union,  i.  e.  natural,  necessar}"^,  &c.  hath  no 
pattern  or  parallel  in  the  creation  ;  therefore  it  is  impossi- 
ble in  the  nature  of  God  ?" 

For  what  he  adds,  "  That  the  soul  and  body  in  a  man 
are  not  united  into  one  substance  or  essence,  nor  possibly 
can  be  ;"  the  cause  indeed  depends  not  on  it,  but  lies  re- 
mote from  it.  Methinks  however  it  is  very  feat,  and  shows 
him  pinched,  that  he  can  be  brought  to  this  !  Haih  a  man 
no  substance  ?  Is  he  a  shadow  ?  Or  hath  he  no  essence  1 
Is  he  a  non-entity  ?  or  is  his  essence  a  body  ?  Then  a  body 
is  a  man.  Or  his  essence  a  spirit?  Then,  a  spirit  is  a 
man.  If  he  sav  either  of  these,  I  wish  he  would  tell  us 
the  quantitv  of  those  propositions,  that  we  may  know 
whether  hemeans  that  everv  body  is  a  man,  or  every  spirit 
is  a  man  ?  I  am  sure  where  the" essence  is,  there  must  be 
p  Considerations,  p.  S. 


166 


A  VIEW  OF  THE  LATE  CO^^SIBERATIONS,  &c. 


the  essentiatim.  Or  whether  soul  and  body  united,  make 
nothing  different  from  eiiher,  or  boih  disunited  1  Or  whe- 
ther a  man  be  only  such  a  thinj^  as  a  pie  1  Or  why  might 
not  a  pudding  serve  as  well,  if  made  up  of  several  in- 
gredients "?  He  hath  greatly  indeed  obliged  mankind  for 
such  an  honour  done  them  flf  indeed  the  cause  depended 
on  it,  he  would  have  good  store  of  philosophers  to  confute, 
and  ail  that  have  any  concern  for  their  own  kind,  before 
he  could  disprove  the  possibility  of  the  supposed  union  in 
the  Deity  ;  and  you  have  nothing  for  it  but  his  bare  word, 
which  (at  least,  without  the  addition  of  his  name)  will  not 
do  the  business.  -Nor,  if  he  could  also  bring  us  a  demon- 
stration against  the  union  of  soul  and  body,  can  he  thereby 
prove  such  a  union  as  we  suppose  in  the  Godhead  im- 
possible. The  case  is  quite  another.  The  union  of  the 
soul  and  body  was  never  by  me  called  essential ;  for  I 
well  know,  if  they  were  essentially  united,  in  the  strict 
sense,  they  could  never  be  disuniied.  But  'tis  commonly 
called  a  substantial  union,  and  I  called  it  natural  in  respect 
of  the  principle,  nature,  in  contradistinction  to  art.  As 
for  the  supposed  union  we  speak  of  in  the  Deity,  that, 
being  necessary,  original,  eternal,  it  must  be  essential,  or 
none  :  but  with  such  distinction  as  before  was  supposed. 
For  it  was  union,  not  identity,  that  was  meant,  which 
union,  with  such  distinction,  till  they  be  proved  impossible, 
the  inquirer's  cause  is  untouched.  And  is  certainly  to  any 
such  pui-pose,^  not  in  the  least  touched  by  the  considerator. 
Whether  there  be  any  such  union  that  may  admit  to  be 
called  essential  among  the  creatures,  doth  neither  make 
nor  mar.  We  have  never  said  there  was,  nor  doth  the 
stress  of  the  cause  lie  upon  it. 

I  find  indeed  an  ingenious,  merry  gentleman,  animad- 
verts upon  a  postscript  writ  against  the  Sober  Inquiry,  and 
upon  a  letter  in  answer  to  it,  who  at  a  venture  calls  all 
essential  union,  essential  contradiction,  and  substantial 
nonsense.  Who  this  is,  I  will  not  pretend  to  guess,  only 
I  guess  him  not  to  be  the  same  with  the  considerator,  for 
this,  besides  other  reasons,  that  he  calls  the  author  of  the 
considerations  a  great  man  ;  and  I  scarce  think  he  would 
call  himself  so.  His  wit  and  sportful  humour,  I  should 
have  liked  better  in  a  less  serious  affair.  For  this  he  bold- 
Iv  pronounces,  in  immediate  reference  to  the  trinity  itself, 
(that  the  world  might  know  he  hath  a  confidence,  at  least 
equal  to  his  wit,)  I  can  easily  abstain  from  asserting  that 
any  created  unions  are  to  be  called  strictly  essential,  be- 
cause then  they  must  be  simply  indissoluble.  And  I  see 
not  but  whatsoever  things  the  Creator  hath  united,  he  ma}' 
disunite,  if  he  be  so  pleased.  Yet  one  might  have  expected 
this  author  to  have  been  a  little  more  civil  to  him  whom 
he  styles  the  late  famous  Dr.  More,  who  hath  published  to 
the  world  his  express  sentiments  in  this  matter,  that  created 
spirits  have  real  amplitude,  made  up  of  indiscerptible  parts, 
essentially  united,  so  as  not  to  be  separable,  without  an- 
nihilation of  the  whole.  One  would  think  he  should  not 
have  treated  him  so,  as  to  make  his  essential  union  sub- 
stantial nonsense.  But  there  are  those  left  in  the  world, 
who  have  that  veneration  for  the  Doctor,  as  to  think  it  no 
indecent  rudeness  to  this  gentleman,  not  to  put  his  judg- 
ment in  the  balance  against  the  Doctor's,  or  to  distinguish 
between  his  calling  it  nonsense,  and  proving  it  so. 

But  if  any  wonder  that  they  w'ho  think  there  is  no  such 
thing  as  an  essential  union  among  creatures,  do  yet  think 
there  may  be  in  the  uncreated  Being,  they  will  show  them- 
selves mighty  wise  in  their  wonder,  i.  eAn  wondering  that 
the  creatures  are  not  God.  And  if  they  further  hereupon 
inquire,  why  we  will  then  make  use  of  unions  not  essen- 
tial, among  creatures,  to  illustrate  that  which  is  supposed 
essential  in  the  uncreated  being,  and  expect  very  particular, 
distinct  accounts  of  every  thing  so  represented ;  they  w\\{ 
show  themselves  as  wise  in  their  expectations,  i.  e.  that 

p  Mejiepiiriievas  Ex6.  tti^.  r  Liber.  Epist  ad  Atban.    »v  /(ipifsrai. 


they  think  nothing  can  serve  to  illustrate,  unles^it  be  like 
in  all  re>pcc'  ■. 

That  question  still  returns.  Is  every  thing  to  be  judged 
by  any  man  of  sense  impossible  in  God,  whereof  he  hath 
not  given  distinct  and  explicit  accounts,  and  illustrations 
from  somewhat  in  the  creatures'?  And  another  will  be 
added.  Is  there  any  thing  originally  in  God,  not  essential 
to  him  ]  But  when  the  world  is  so  full  of  instances  of 
substantial  unions,  without  confusion,  or  identification, 
that  he  cannot  so  much  as  name  me  a  created  substance, 
that  he  can  be  sirre  exists  absolutely  simple,  I  am  sure  it 
can  be  no  contradiction  to  suppose  that  there  may  be  un- 
created, necessary,  eternal  union,  without  confusion  or 
identification ;  and  that  it  would  be,  as  he  phrases  it,  es- 
sential contradiction,  or  substantial  nonsense,  to  say  that 
things  united  necessarily  (though  distinct)  can  possibly 
ever  admit  of  separation.  And  if  our  modern  anti-trini- 
tarians  (for  I  will  not  call  them  by  the  inept  name  of  uni- 
tarians, which  as  rightfully  belongs  to  them  whose  adver- 
saries the}' are  pleased  to  be,  as  to  themselves,  and  therefore 
cannot  distinguish  the  one  from  the  other)  would  allow  it 
to  be  their  method  to  understand  the  doctrine  of  the  or- 
thodox ancients,  before  they  decry  and  hoot  at  it,  they 
W"ould  find  that  as  they  allow  sufficient  distinction  of  the 
sacred  hi/posfases  ;  so  the  union  they  assert,  is  not  such  as 
identifies  them,  but  only  signifies  them  to  be  inseparable. 
So  speaks  Athanasius  himself,  "  we  think  not,  as  the  Sa- 
bellians,  that  the  Son  is  of  one  and  the  same  essence  with 
the  Father,  but  consubstantial — nor  do  we  assert?  three 
hT/postascs  separated  as  with  men,  bodily,  lest  with  the 
Gentiles,  we  should  admit  polytheism,"  &c. 

So  do  Liberius  and  he  agree  in  sentiment.  The  one 
says,  "■  "  The  Son  is  not  separated  from  the  Father's  hypos- 
tasis." The  other, »  "  We  hold  not  the  Son  divided  from 
the  Father,"  &c. 

And  upon  the  most  impartial,  faithful,  and  diligent  search 
and  consideration,  I  do  solemnly  declare  there  needed  not 
more  of  rationality  or  intelligibleness  in  this  doctrine,  to 
keep  it  from  being  ridiculed,  as  contradictious,  and  non- 
sense; but  only  less  prejudice,  and  more  modesty,  in  the 
opposers  of  it,  with  more  reverence  of  the  Divine  Majesty, 
upon  this  (obvious)  apprehension,  that  if  it  be  true,  it  must 
be  sacred,  divine  truth. 

This  author  would  fain  have  me  with  him  to  the  play- 
house, whither  really  I  have  no  leisure  to  accompany  him, 
nor  much  temptation  ;  for  I  perceive  it  hath  filled  his  mind 
with  ideas  not  useful  to  my  purpose  ;  nor,  I  think,  to  any 
good  one  of  his  own.  If  there  he  learned  to  jest  away 
that  which  should  be  the  best  part  of  himself;  and  of 
which  Socrates,  dying,  told  his  friends  it  would  be  gone 
far  enough  out  of  their  hands,  and  for  that  which  was  left 
behind,  they  might  bury,  or  do  with  it  what  they  pleased  ; 
if  there  he  was  taught  to  ridicule  the  holy  apostle's  dis- 
tinction of  an  h  £V(o,  and  b  t'^w,  an  inner  and  an  outer  man; 
and  when  he  hath  thrown  the  former  of  these  out  of  his 
notion  of  himself ;  for  my  part,  I  must  think  of  that  which 
is  left,  that  the  silly  Indian  is  the  less  silly  creature  of 
the  two. 

And  besides  as  he  is  too  much  given  to  play,  to  mind 
any  thing  of  serious  discourse,  so  I  find  he  is  not  through- 
out honest  in  his  play  neither ;  but  that  even  when  he 
pretends  to  sit  out,  and  be  but  a  spj^ctator,  only  taking  care 
that  there  be  fair  play,  he  falls  in  himself,  and  plays  booty. 
Nor  do  I  find  he  hath  any  thing  of  argument  in  his  dis- 
course, which  hath  not  been  considered  already  in  the  dis- 
course I  have  had  with  the  considerator.  I  therefore  take 
leave  of  them  both  toge'iher,  and  of  you  too,  Sir,  being  in 
great  sincerity, 

Your  affectionate  humble  servant, 

The  Inquirer. 
a  Rescript.  Ath.  ad  Lflienon.  ov  iiaKCx,wpi<7jievov. 


ADVERTISEMENT. 


The  "  Letter  to  the  Clergy  of  both  Universities,"  came  not  to  my  sight,  or  notice,  till  some  hours  after  the  last 
sheet  of  this  discourse  was  brought  to  me  from  the  press ;  I  have  not  time  therefore  to  say  much  to  it,  nor  yet  snould 
say  more  than  I  do  had  I  never  so  much.  The  author  seems  to  think  what  he  was  now  doing,  as  to  the  inquiry,  super- 
fluous, because  he  said  it  was  so  fully  done  by  an  abler  hand,  &c.  In  the  meantime,  he  was  in  ill  case,  tliat  he  was 
neither  able  to  write  to  any  purpose,  nor  be  silent :  a  most  deplorable  double  impotency  !  But  he  hath,  notwithstanding 
his  modesty,  shown  a  double  ability,  to  invent  and  make  an  hypothesis  of  his  own  fingers'  ends,  and  then  most  dexter- 
ously to  combat  that  shadow.  Three  inadequate  Gods  is  indeed  (to  vise  his  own  phrase)  his  own  invention,  constantly 
disavowed  by  the  inquirer,  who  with  the  generality  of  trinitarians,  calls  the  three  subsisients  in  the  Godhead,  God ; 
being  each  of  them  necessarily  existent,  but  none  of  them  alone,  exclusively,  a  God. 

What  art  he  hath,  is  shown  in  fighting  this  his  own  figment.  As  also  that  of  parts  of  the  Deity,  other  than  con- 
ceptible,  which  no  man  can  avoid.  So  we  have  his  dream  of  a  third  part  of  a  God,  about  which  he  so  learnedly  raves 
in  his  dream,  as  to  disprove,  as  effectually,  any  God  at  all.  For  I  appeal  to  what  sense  he  hath  left  himself,  whether 
power  alone  be  God,  exclusive  of  wisdom  and  goodness  1  Then  'tis  an  inadequate,  or  a  not  complete,  notion  of  God  ; 
then,  by  his  profound  reasoning,  not  eternal.  No  more  are  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost  parts,  unless  you  be  ena- 
moured of  the  bull,  impartible  parts,  that  never  were  parted,  nor  ever  can  be.  As  what  are  neces-sarily  united  (though 
unconfounded)  cannot,  without  nonsense  and  contradiction,  be  said  to  be  parted.  His  fiction,  that  what  is  from  the 
eternal  Father  by  neces.sary  emanation,  cannot  be  eternal,  but  must  have  a  beginning,  is  of  the  same  stamp.  He  did 
not  need  when  he  writ,  to  have  abandoned  all  logic  and  common  sense,  that  would  have  told  him  rclata  sunt  simul 
natura.  His  so  confidently  taking  it  for  granted  on  all  hands,  that  all  infinites  are  equal,  shows  his  little  compass  of 
thought,  and  how  unacquainted  he  is  with  the  diificulties  of  a  controversy,  wherein  yet  he  will  be  so  over-meddle- 
some.    Q,ui  pauca  respicit,  tf-c.     But  who  so  bold  as 1  1  leave  him  to  compound  that  difference  with  his  abler  con- 

siderator,  whether  one  inch  and  two  inches  be  equal  1  and  so  bid  him  good  night. 


A  LETTER 


WRITTEN  OUT  OF  THE  COUNTRY  TO  A  PERSON  OF  aUAUTY  IN  THE  CITY,  WHO  TOOK  OFFENCE  AT  THE  LATB 


SERMON    OF   DR.  STILLINGFLEET, 


(DEAN  OF  ST.  PAUL'S,)  BEFORE  THE  LORD  MAYOR. 


CONSIDERING  THYSELF  LEST  THOG  ALSO  BE  TEMPTED.    GAL.  VI.  1. 


JOHANNES  COLETCS,    DECANHS    aUEM   DICUNT,  DIVI    FAULT, — APUD   SUOS    ANGLOS    ALTER    PENE   APOSTOLUS    PAULUS    HABITUS   EST. 

POLYD.  VIRGIL. 


Sir, 
I  PERCEIVE  your  mind  is  disturbed,  which  my  friend- 
s-hip -^'ith  you  can  no  more  let  me  be  unconcerned  for, 
than  if  I  heard  you  were  sick  ;  nor  less  to  study  yovtr  re- 
lief. Such  may  be  the  cause  and  measare  of  your  pas- 
sion, and  such  the  disproportion  between  the  one  and  the 
other,  as  to  need  it  a  great  deal  more,  though  yet  perhaps 
to  deserve  it  less.  For  your  sickness  might  be  3'our  infe- 
licity only,  but  a  perturbation  that  exceeds  its  cause,  can- 
not bat  be  j'our  faiilt.  Which  kind  of  evil,  though  it  be 
much  greater,  and  therefore  needs  no  application  for  the 
removing  of  it ;  yet  it  can  challenge  less  help  from  ano- 
ther, because  you  are  your  own  aiilicter,  and  may,  by  de- 
pendence on  Divine  help,  when  you  please,  cure  yourself, 
which  no  man  else  can  do  for  you.  But  if  another  may 
contribute  towards  it,  by  laying  before  you  apt  considera- 
tions which  you  are  yourself  to  apply,  you  know  you  are  to 
expect  it  from  no  man's  good  will  more  than  mine.  If 
indeed  you  expect  much  from  my  ability,  that  is  another 
fault,  entirely  your  own,  and  whereto  you  could  have  no 
temptation. 

Thus  much  I  freely  profess  to  you,  that  I  have  a  great 
value  of  an  equal  temper  and  composure  of  mind,  not  apt 
to  be  unduly  moved,  or  entertain  anything  that  occurs 
with  indecent  perturbation,  or  other  resentment  than  is 
due  and  suitable  to  the  occasion  :  and  desire  it  more  than 
either  to  be  in  the  best  external  circumstances,  or  not  to 
be  in  the  worst.  As  I  wish  for  myself,  I  wish  for  you  ; 
and  therefore  am  willing  to  place  my  endeavour  accord- 
ingly, where  it  may  be  in  a  possibility  of  effecting  some- 
what to  your  advantage,  and  where  it  is  most  desirable  it 
should. 

In  the  present  case,  the  fault  I  find  with  you  is,  that 
your  resentment  of  the  matter  you  complain  of  is  undue, 
and  not  proportionabfe  to  the  occasion.  And  whereas  you 
seem  to  labour  imder  the  distemper  and  excess  of  a  two- 
fold passion;  of  fear,  lest  a  just  and  good  cause  (as  you 
and  I  do  both  account)  should  suffer  some  erreat  prejudice, 
by  this  opposition  of  Dr.  Stillingfleet;  and  of  anger,  that 
he  from  whom  better  things  might  have  been  expected, 
should  attempt  any  thing  in  this  kind.  I  shall  hereupon 
endeavour  to  represent  to  you  the  causelessness  both  of 
your  fear,  and  (in  great  part)  of  your  anger.  And  first 
defend  the  cause  against  Dr.  Stillingfleet,  and  then  add 
somewhat  in  defence  of  Dr.  Stillingfleet  against  you. 

1.  As  to  the  former  we  are, 

I.  To  give  the  plain  state  of  it,  with  the  Doctor's  judg- 
ment against  us  in  it. 


II.  To  discuss  the  matter  with  the  Doctor,  and  show  ; 
1.  The  indefensibleness  of  that  judgment;  2.  The  ineffi- 
cacy  of  the  Doctor's  attempt  to  defend  it. 

I.  It  is  first  necessary  that  we  have  a  true  state  of  the 
cause  itself  before  our  eyes;  which  is  plainly  this, — That 
as  there  are  very  great  numbers  of  people,  beyond  what 
the  ministers  of  parishes,  in  divers  places,  can  possibly 
perform  ministerial  duty  unto ;  so  there  are  withal  very 
many  that  cannot  be  satisfied  in  conscience,  to  intrust  their 
souls  and  their  spiritual  concernments  to  the  pastoral  care 
and  conduct  of  the  parochial  ministry  only  ;  though  they 
generally  have  a  reverend  esteem  of  divers  who  are  of  it, 
do,  many  of  them,  very  frequently  partake  of  some  part 
of  their  labours,  and  rejoice  in  them  as  great  ornaments 
and  real  blessings  of  the  Christian  church.  But  these  are 
very  unproportionable  in  number  to  the  necessities  of  the 
people,  and  are  by  legal  restraints  tied  up  one  way,  as  they 
by  conscientious  are  another,  in  respect  of  some  principal 
parts  of  Christian  worship ;  without  which  they  should  be 
visibly  in  the  condition  of  pagans. 

There  are  also  many  persons  who  ha  ve  been  devoted  to 
the  service  of  God  and  his  church  in  the  ministerial  func- 
tion ;  some  of  them  in  the  way  which  now  obtains,  others 
in  a  way  which  this  reverend  author  did  not  disapprove, 
who  are  not  satisfied  in  conscience  about  the  terms  upon 
which  they  might  have  continued,  or  may  be  admitted, 
parochial  incumbents.  So  that  here  are  numerous  flocks 
scattered  without  pastors,  here  are  many  pastors  without 
flocks. 

The  people,  it  is  true,  on  whose  behalf  these  papers  are 
more  especially  written,  are  in  this  destitute  condition  by 
their  own  scruples.  Nor  is  it  the  present  design  to  justify 
all  those  scruples.  But  they  are,  with  many,  of  long  con- 
tinuance, and,  for  ought  appears,  unremovable.  If  they 
should  be  deferred,  and  bidden  to  use  patience,  while  such 
further  endeavours  are  used  with  them  as  this  sermon  con- 
tains, yet  death  will  hav^e  no  patience,  nor  be  deferred.  So 
that  there  are  multitudes  passing  into  eternity  out  of  a 
Christian  nation,  having  no  benefit  of  Christian  ordinan- 
ces; no  means  of  instruction  in  the  truth  and  doctrines  of 
the  Christian  religion,  in  order  to  their  salvation.  The 
cau.se  which  is  de  facto  tnken  in  this  distress  for  their  relief, 
is  that  which  the  reverend  author  bends  himself  against  in 
this  sermon.  And  there  are  two  sorts  of  persons  concerned 
in  it.  The  people ;  who,  rather  than  return  to  the  state  of 
paganism,  implore  the  help  of  these  imemployed  ministers, 
desiring  them  to  perform  the  duty  of  Christian  ministers 
towards  them.   And  the  ministers ;  who,  rather  thaii  they 


A  LETTER  CONCERNING  DR.  STILLINGFLEETS  SERMON. 


169 


should  cease  to  be  Christians,  or  themselves  always  cease 
from  the  work  of  ministers,  comply  with  their  desires,  and, 
as  they  can,  allow  them  their  desired  help. 

This  author  doth  more  directly  and  professedly  speak  to 
the  case  of  the  people ;  to  that  of  the  ministers,  only  by 
way  of  oblique  reflection.  You  and  I  who  (among  the 
former)  do  often  partake  in  the  worship  and  ordinances  of 
God,  in  the  separate  assemblies,  (though  we  are  not  so 
squeamish  as  to  balk  the  public,  nor  so  unjust  and  un- 
grateful, as  not  to  thank  God  for  the  excellent  advantages 
that  are  sometimes  to  be  met  with  there,)  are  both  concern- 
ed, and  led  by  the  Doctor's  discourse,  to  consider  what  is 
said  as  to  this  case  of  ours.  Which  yet  I  would  have  us 
consider  not  so  appropriately,  as  to  exclude  them  our  very 
compassionate  consideration,  that  are  more  pinched  and 
contined  to  narrower  limits,  by  their  own  scruples,  than 
we  are  ;  and  whose  number  you  cannot  but  apprehend  to 
be  so  great,  as  to  call  for  a  very  large  compassion  in  con- 
sidering their  case. 

It  is  indeed  a  case  of  far-prospect,  and  which  looks 
down  upon  after-times.  You  know  how  easily  it  may  be 
deduced  all  along  from  the  beginning  of  the  English  re- 
formation, when  some  very  eminent  among  our  reformers 
M'cre  not  well  satisfied  with  the  ceremonial  part  of  the 
constitution  settled  at  that  time;  how  an  unsatisfied  party 
hath  gradually  increased  from  age  to  age  among  the  com- 
mon people  also.  They  are  now  grown  very  numerous. 
And  unless  some  very  overpowering  impression  upon 
men's  minds  (not  reasonably  to  be  expected  according  to 
common  measures)  should  alter  the  case,  it  is  still  likely 
to  increase  in  succeeding  ages.  You  are  ignorant  that  no 
one  thing  is  more  commonly  scrupled  by  this  unsatisfied 
party,  than  the  addition  of  that  federal  rite  in  the  dedicat- 
ing of  Iheir  children  to  God,  the  signing  them  with  the 
sign  of  the  cross;  which  many  (how  justly  or  unjustly  I 
am  not  now  to  discuss)  esteem  so  sinful  a  practice,  tiiat, 
rather  than  admit  it,  they  will  choose  not  to  offer  their 
children  to  baptism.  Nor  is  it  itself  of  less  weight  (per- 
haps 'tis  of  much  greater)  that,  in  this  solemn  dedication, 
they  have  no  opportunity  of  performing  the  parental  duty, 
of  covenanting  with  God  on  behalf  of  their  own  children  ; 
but  that  part  (with  the  exclusion  of  themselves)  is  to  be 
done  by  others  whom  God  hath  not  concerned  in  the 
business;  and  who,  after  the  solemnity  is  over,  are  never 
like  to  concern  themselves.  And  there  are  divers  other 
scruples  besides,  in  reference  to  this  and  other  parts  of 
worship,  that,  with  multitudes,  are  in  no  great  probability 
to  admit  of  cure. 

Now  let  us  see  what  the  reverend  Doctor's  judgment  is 
upon  this  state  of  our  case,  who  dissent  from  the  estab- 
lished way,  whether  the  people,  or  their  ministers ;  and 
that  both  concerning  what  they  do,  and  what,  by  conse- 
quence from  his  judgment  ujion  their  case,  they  are  to 
suffer.  For  the  practice  of  the  people  in  this  case  (at  least 
the  negative  part  of  it)  he  hath  some  charity  in  his  censure, 
for  in  their  declining  to  join  in  the  public  assemblies,  he 
believes  them  generall}^  to  practice  according  to  their  judg- 
ment, as  he  professes,  page  37  of  his  sermon.  For  the 
ministers,  most  of  them,  none  at  all,  who,  as  he  says  in 
the  same  place,  he  believes  go  against  theirs.  His  words 
are,  "  I  dare  say,  if  most  of  the  preachers  at  this  day  in 
the  separate  meetings,  were  soberly  asked  their  judgments, 
whether  it  were  lawful  for  the  people  to  join  with  us  in 
the  public  assemblies,  they  would  not  deny  it ;  and  yet 
the  people  that  frequent  them,  generally  judge  otherwise. 
For  it  is  not  to  be  supposed,  that  faction  among  them 
should  so  commonly  prevail  beyond  interest." 

But  his  judgment  concerning  what  both  are  to  undergo 
is  eventually,  and  in  the  sequel,  as  he  states  their  case, 
much  more  hard  in  respect  of  the  people,  who  cannot  re- 
lieve themselves ;  whereas  the  ministers,  according  to  the 
notion  he  hath  of  them,  presently  may. 

We  are  to  attend  chiefly  to  what  he  says  in  reference  to 
the  lay  people,  and  shall  consider,  I.  How  severe  he  is 
towards  them;  and,  2.  How  well  consistent  he  is  therein 
■with  himself. 

1.  His  severity  towards  those  of  us  in  respect  of  what  we 
practise,  who  put  ourselves  under  the  pastoral  care  of  other 
than  the  parochial  ministers,  is  to  be  seen  in  what  he  pro- 
poses to  himself  to  evince,  page  20.  viz.  That  our  pro- 


ceeding to  the  forming  of  separate  congregations,  t.  e.  under 
other  teachers,  and  by  other  rules,  than  what  the  established 
religion  allows,  is  the  present  case  of  separation  which  he 
uitends  to  consider,  and  to  make  the  sinfulness  and  mischiel 
of  it  appear.  He  doth,  you  see,  in  short,  absolutely  pro- 
nounce our  practice  in  this  case  to  be  sinful  and  mis- 
chievous. 

Now  it  is  hence  also  to  be  collected,  how  hard  things  he 
would  have  us  suffer  upon  supposition  of  our  only  remain- 
ing unsatisfied  to  join  ourselves  into  the  parochial  coc- 
munion.  He  doth  not  indeed  bespeak  for  us  gibbets, 
whipping-posts,  or  dungeons ;  nor  (directl3-)  any  thing 
grievous  to  our  flesh.  But  to  such  as  consider  themselves 
to  have  souls  made  for  an  everlasting  state,  the  doom  which 
his  words  imply,  in  the  mentioned  place,  cannot  be 
thought  gentle.  Which  that^-ou  may  apprehend  the  more 
distinctly;  observe  that  he  hath  nothing  to  say  against  our 
bare  suspending  communion  in  some  particular  riles  which 
we  modestly  .scruple,  while  we  use  it  in  what  we  judge 
lawful,  page  20.  (whereas,  page  37.  he  supposesus generally 
to  judge  it  unlawful  to  join  in  the  public  assemblies,)  to 
which  purpose  he  also  speaks  in  his  late  dialogues,  page 
171.  and  172.  (giving  his  antagonist  an  accoimt  of  what 
he  had  said  in  his  J/cnicitm  to  the  matter  now  in  discourse,) 
viz.  That  some  scrupulous  and  conscientious  men,  after  all 
endeavours  used  to  satisfy  themselves,  may  remain  unsatis- 
fied a,s  trj  tlifi  lawfulness  of  some  imjiosed  rites,  but  dare 
not  proceed  to  positive  separation  from  the  church,  but  are 
willing  to  comply  in  all  other  things  save  in  those  rites 
which  they  still  scruple  :  and  concerning  these  he  puts  the 
question,  whether  such  bare  nonconformity  do  involve 
such  men  in  the  guilt  of  schism.  And  this  he  confesses  he 
resolved  negatively  (approving  or  not  disavowing  that  reso- 
lution.) Thus  far  indeed  he  well  agrees  with  iiimself  j 
and  seems  to  have  no  quarrel  with  u.s. 

But  coiisider  the  fatal  consequence.  He  well  knows 
that  if  we  suspend  communion  in  the  rite  of  the  cross, 
(upon  our  never  so  modest  scruple,)  m'c  cannot  have  our 
children  ministerially  dedicated  to  God  in  the  ordinance 
of  baptism,  nor  be  so  ourselves,  if  being  adult,  we  remain 
any  of  us  unbaptized ;  (as  he  may  well  apprehend  many 
among  us  are ;)  nor  if  we  decline  the  use  of  sponsors  as  to 
what  we  conceive  should  be  performed  by  parents  for  their 
children,  and  by  adult  persons  for  themselves.  Aotl  that 
if  we  kneel  not  before  the  consecrated  elements  at  the 
Lord's  table,  we  are  not  to  partake  of  his  holy  supper. 
Yea,  and  what  if  we  scruple  somewhat  that  is  more  than 
ritual,  to  sit  under  the  ministry  of  a  noted  drunkard,  or 
open  enemy  to  godliness,  as  our  teacher  and  guide,  when 
we  might  enjoy  the  fruitful  labours  of  one  that  hath  not 
his  qualifications  every  Lord's  day  ?  No,  by  no  means, 
without  limitation,  or  the  supposition  of  any  possible  case 
wherein  it  may  be  otherwise,  a  meeting  never  so  little  be- 
sides the  established  course,  he  will  make  appear  is  sinful 
and  mischievous,  and  not  tolerable  upon  any  terms. 

What  then  would  he  have  us  do  1  He  directs  us  indeed 
afterw  ard  to  the  endeavour  of  satisfaction.  But  what  shall 
we  do  if  after  our  utmost  endeavours  our  dissatisfaction 
remain  ?  What,  while  we  are  endeavouring  1  which  may 
be  all  our  days  in  vain.  What  if  we  can  never  be  satisfied 
concerning  the  established  way  of  baptism  for  oui-selves 
and  our  children,  and  of  partaking  the  btxly  and  blood  of 
our  Lord  and  Saviour  1  Nor  to  hear  or  give  countenance 
to  such  a,  one  pretending  to  preach  the  glorious  gospel  of 
the  blessed  God,  who  either  sub.>tantially  perverts  and  de- 
praves it,  or  whose  profligate  life  proclaims  him  an  ojjposer 
and  enemy  to  the  holy  rules  and  design  of  it  1  Nor  to 
commit  ourselves  to  the  pastoral  care  and  charge  of  a  less 
exceptionable  person,  yea  though  otherwise  never  so  de- 
serving, that  hath  tied  his  own  hands,  and  is  under  such 
restraints  that  he  cannot,  or  so  disinclined  that  he  will 
not,  dispense  the  ordinances  of  Christ  in  such  a  way,  as 
wherein  with  satisfaction  to  our  consciences  we  may  enjoy 
them.  ■  .  , 

Read  over  the  Doctor's  sermon  ag-ain  and  agam,  anci 
you  will  find  no  course  is  prescribed  us.  but  to  sit  still 
without  any  enjoyment  of  Christian  ordinances  at  all.  And 
with  how  great  "numbers  must  this  be  the  case!  tor  him- 
self professes  to  believe,  that  the  people  that  Irequent  the 
separate  meetings  (who  vou  know  are  not  a  few)  do  gene- 


170 


A  LETTER  CONCERNING 


rally  judge  it  to  be  unlawful  to  join  in  the  public  assem- 
blies. And  are  we  always  to  sit  still  thus  1  That  is  to 
exchange  visible  Christianity  for  visible  (at  least  negative) 
paganism  !  This,  if  you  take  the  whole  compass  of  it,  is  a 
thing  of  awful  importance  that  so  great  a  limb  of  a  Chris- 
tian nation,  they  and  their  posterity,  should  be  paganized 
from  age  to  age,  and  cut  of  from  the  whole  body  of  the 
Christiancommunity  ,onlybccause  they  scruple  some  things, 
the  least  exceptionable  whereof  are  no  part  of  the  Christian 
institution,  (as  himself,  and  they  whose  advocate  he  is,  will 
freely  confess,)  nor  do  necessarily  belong  to  it,  being  (as 
they  contend)  but  indifferent  things.  He  seems  rather 
contented  we  should  not  be  Christians  at  all,  than  not  to 
be  Christians  of  this  particular  mode:  that  we  should 
rather  want  the  substance  of  Christ's  gospel  and  sacra- 
ments, than  not  have  them  accompanied  with  confessedly 
needless  additions,  and  which  we  fear  to  be  forbidden  us 
by  their  Lord  and  ours. 

We  do  sincerely  profess  wherein  we  decline  the  commu- 
nion he  invites  us  to,  we  only  displease  him,  and  those  of 
his  way  and  mind,  out  of  a  real  fear  of  otherwise  displeas- 
ing God.  We  agree  with  them  in  far  greater  things  than 
we  can  differ  in.  We  are  of  that  one  body  which  they 
themselves  profess  to  be  of,  so  far  as  mere  Christianity  is 
the  distinction,  and  collective  bond  of  it,  and  desire  to  be 
under  the  conduct  and  government  of  that  one  Spirit.  We 
are  called  with  them  in  that  one  hope  of  our  calling,  and 
earnestly  expect  (whatever  hard  tlioughts  they  have  of  us) 
to  meet  many  a  one  of  them  in  the  participation  of  the 
blessed  hoped  end  of  that  calling.  We  acknowledge  that 
one  Lord,  that  one  faith,  that  one  baptism,  (or  covenant 
which  the  bnptism  of  our  Lord"'s  appointment  seals,)  and 
that  one  God  and  Father  of  all,  who  is  above  all,  and 
through  all,  and  in  us  all.  Yet  because  we  cannot,  we 
dare  not  consent  with  them  to  the  additions  wliich  belong- 
not  (and  which  we  fear  are  unduly  affixed)  to  the  religion 
of  Christians,  we  are  adjudged  to  be  (as  much  as  in  them 
is)  cut  off  from  Christ,  deprived  of  the  dear  pledges  of  his 
love,  and  acquisitions  of  his  blood,  are  driven  out  from 
the  inheritance  of  the  Lord,  and  it  is  effect  said  to  us. 
Go  and  serve  other  gods.  Thus  far  the  severity  of  this 
reverend  author  tov/ards  us  extends.  Which  while  we 
thus  truly  represent  and  recount,  let  us  also, 

2.  Consider  what  agreement  it  holds  with  Avhat  we  else- 
where observe  from  him:  We  have  already  taken  notice, 
that  for  our  bare  nonconformity  he  acquits  "us  of  the  guilt 
of  schism.  And,  page  20.  of  this  sermon,  he  says,  he  doth 
"not  confound  bare  suspending  communion  in  some  par- 
ticular rites,  which  persons  do  modestly  scruple,  and  using 
it  in  what  Ihey  judge  to  be  lawful,  with  either  total,  or 
at  least  ordinary  forbearance  of  communion  in  what  they 
judge  to  be  lawful :  and  proceeding  to  the  forming  sepa- 
rate congregations,"  &c.  'Tis  this  latter  he  severs  and 
singles  out  for  his  opposition.  Against  our  suspending 
communion  in  some  particular  rites,  (which  we  judge  un- 
lawful,) if  we  ttse  it  in  what  we  judge  lawful,  (which  I,  with 
him,  presume  the  lay-dissentcrs  in  England  generally  do,) 
he  hath  nothing  to  say:  yea,  and  undertaking  to  "show 
what  error  of  conscience  doth  excuse  a  man  from  sin.  in 
following  the  dictates  of  it ;  he  tells  us,  page  44.  that  '"  if 
the  error  be  wholly  involuntary,  t.  e.  if  it  be  caused  by 
invincible  ignorance,"  (which  he  thus  explains  in  the  fol- 
lowing words,)  "or  after  using  the  best  means  for  due  in- 
formation of  his  conscience;  though  the  act  may  be  a 
fault  in  itself,  yet  it  shall  not  be  imputed  to  him  for  a  sin, 
because  it  wanted  the  consent  of  the  mind  by  which  the  will 
is  determined."     And  now,  Sir,  I  beseech  )'ou  consider, 

(L)  When  he  confesses  if  we  be  willing  to  be  .satisfied, 
and  our  error  be  involuntary,  it  shall  not  be  imputed  to  us 
for  a  sin ;  why  are  Ave  so  severely  dealt  with  for  what  is 
not  to  be  imputed  to  us  for  a  sin  1  If  it  were  any,  rae- 
thinks  it  should  not  deserve  such  rigour  at  tlie  hands  of 
men,  that  are  themselves  also  liable  to  mistakes  a.nd  errors. 
Is  it  so  very  criminal,  if  every  poor  illiterate  dissenter  in 
England  (man  or  woman)  cannot  m  all  their  days  attain 
to  a  better  and  more  seUled  judgment  in  such  "dubious 
matters,  than  this  reverend  person  had  himself  arrived  to 
twenty  years  ago  1  Especially  that  never  had,  or  were  ca- 
pable of  having,  tho.se  peculiar  helps  and  inducements,  to 
temper  and  reform  their  judgments,  that  he  hath  enjoyed. 


'Tis  a  long  time  that  his  own  judgment  has  been  ripening 
to  that  maturity,  as,  at  length,  to  think  it  fit  and  seasonable 
to  say  so  much  as  he  hath,  for  the  reforming  of  ours,  even 
in  this  sermon.  Methinks  he  should  not  be  so  very  quick 
and  hard  towards  us,  upon  so  slender  a  cause,  as  our 
scrupling  .some  particular  rites,  to  adjudge  us  and  ours  to 
be  totally  deprived  of  baptism,  which  themselves  count 
necessary  to  our  salvation,  and  of  the  other  ordinances  of 
Christ,  whichthey  donot  think  unnecessary.  And  consider, 

(2.)  Whereas  he  says,  that  if  a  man  err  after  using  the 
best  means  for  due  information  of  his  conscience, — it  shall 
not  be  imputed  to  him  as  a  sin.  What  if  we  err  this  error 
(as  he  counts  it)  after  using  the  best  means  for  due  infor- 
mation ;  that  we  ought  rather  than  to  return  to  the  state 
of  paganism,  to  bear  our  part  in  the  forming  of  such  meet- 
ings for  the  worship  of  God,  as  wherein  we  may,  with  the 
satisfaction  of  our  own  consciences,  enjoy  all  his  holy 
ordinances  1  It  will  surely  be  within  the  compass  of  this 
his  general  position,  and  not  be  imputable  as  a  sin.  Then  it 
is  to  be  hoped  we  should  rather  choose  to  do  so,  than  pa- 
ganize ourselves,  or  live  in  the  wilful  neglect  of  his  institu- 
tions :  which  to  do  by  our  own  choice,  wlien  we  might  do 
otherwise,  we  cannot  but  think  a  very  great  sin. 

If  here  the  Doctor  should  assume  to  himself  to  tell  us 
not  only  that  we  err  herein,  (whereof  we  are  to  regard  his 
proof,  as  it  shall  be  considered  by  and  by,  more  than  his 
affirmation,)  but  also  that  our  error  is  wilful,  we  shall 
appeal  from  him  to  one  that  better  knows,  how  willingly, 
how  gladly  we  should  receive  information,  and  admit  the 
belief,  tha;t  we  ought  to  content  ourselves  entirely  and  only 
with  such  provisions  as  the  established  religion  (to  use  the 
Doctor's  phrase)  allows  us,  if  the  evidence  of  the  thing  it- 
self did  not  seem  irresistibly  and  unavoidably  to  persuade, 
us  otherwise.  And  for  him  to  say  so,  were  but  to  suppose 
men  wilful,  only  for  not  being  of  his  mind,  who  can  us 
easily  think  him  so,  for  not  being  of  theirs.  But  this  can- 
not be  a  question  between  the  Doctor  and  us;  whom,  as 
we  have  taken  notice  above,  he  hath  so  far  obliged,  as  to 
admit,  (page  37.)  "  that  we  generally  judge  as  we  practise, 
and  that  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  faction  among  us 
should  so  commonly  prevail  bej'ond  interest."  But  since 
this  appears  to  be  his  determination  concerning  us,  and 
that  his  assertion  seems  positive  and  peremptor}',  page  20. 
"  That  in  this  our  case,  to  proceed  to  the  forming  of  con- 
gregations under  other  teachers,  and  by  other  rules  than 
what  the  established  religion  allows,  were  a  sinful  and 
mischievous  separation," — v/e  are  in  the  next  place, 

II.  To  discuss  the  matter  with  the  Doctor;  wherein  we 
shall  endeavour  to  show, —  1.  The  indefensibleness  of  Ihe 
judgment  the  Doctor  hath  given  in  this  case ;  which  will 
both  infer,  (and  in  some  part  excuse)  what  we  are  after- 
wards to  discover ;  viz. — 2.  The  infirmity  of  what  is  alleged 
by  him  in  this  attempt  of  his  to  defend  it. 

1.  For  the  former,  it  being  obvious  to  common  observa- 
tion, that  a  natural  self-indulgence  and  aptness  to  decline 
and  waive  what  is  of  more  terrible  import  to  themselves, 
doth  usually  insinuate  and  influence  men's  minds  in  their 
judging  of  such  cases ;  we  are  the  more  concerned  (because 
a  favourable  false  judgment  will  do  us  no  good)  with  an 
impartial  strictness  to  hold  ourselves  to  the  thing  itself. 
And  when  we  most  strictly  do  so,  methinks  the  doctor 
should  have  somewhat  a  hard  province  of  it.  Foi  his  de- 
termination amounts  to  thus  much,  (ihat  we  ought  to  be 
kept  in  a  .state  of  damnation  for  scrupling  the  ceremonies,) 
i.  e.  to  be  deprived  of  the  necessary  means  of  our  salvation. 
And  that,  while  he  accounts  our  scruple  (after  the  use  of 
due  means  for  our  information)  not  imputable  to  us  as  a 
sin :  and  not  that  only,  but  that  M^e  ought  to  consent  to 
our  own  damnation  for  this  no  sin  of  ours;  inasmuch  as 
it  would  be  sinful  and  mischievous  to  procure  to  ourselves 
the  necessary  means  of  our  salvation  in  another  way,  while 
we  apprehend  that,  without  our  sin,  we  cannot  have  them 
in  the  way  which  he  allows  us. 

We  are  indeed  satisfied,  that  our  sin  one  way  or  other 
would  contribute  little  to  our  salvation.  But  when  also 
we  are  satisfied  that  we  cannot  enjoy  the  means  of  salva- 
tion in  his  way  without  sin  ;  and  he  tells  us,  we  cannot 
without  sin  enjoy  them  in  our  own  :  we  hope  every  door 
is  not  shut  up  against  us,  and  cannot  think  the  merciiul 
and  holy  God  hafh  so  stated  our  case,  as  to  reduce  us  to 


DR.  STILLINGFLEET  S  iiiERMON. 


171 


a  necessity  of  sinning  to  get  out  of  a  state  of  damnation. 
And  therefore  this  reverend  author  having  already  deter- 
mined that  our  remedy  cannot  lie  (as  our  consciences  are 
hitherto  informed)  in  coming  over  to  him  and  his  way  : 
for  he  believes  we  generally  judge  itunlav^lul  to  join  with 
them  in  the  public  assemblies,  page  37.  and  says,  page  43. 
"that  no  man  that  hath  any  conscience  will  speak  against 
the  power  of  it,  and  he  that  will  speak  against  it,  hath  no 
reason  to  be  regarded  in  what  he  .sa3's-"  (as  no  question  }ie 
expected  to  l)e,  otherwise  he  had  not  given  himself  so  much 
trouble;)  and  concludes,  page  M.  "  that  we  should  sin  in 
going  against  it."  As  lie  also  thinks  we  should  in  acting 
with  it,  which  (as  is  necess-arily  implied)  we  as  3'et  see  not. 
Our  great  hope  upon  the  whole  matter  is,  that  our  relief 
must  lie  in  taking  the  way  which  Ave  do  take ;  and  that  it 
cannot  be  proved  to  be  sitiful. 

We  reckon  it  is  not,  and  that  the  Doctor's  judgment 
herein  is  simply  indefensible,  because  whatsoever  is  sin- 
ful must  transgress  some  law  immediately  divine,  or  that 
obliges  by  virtue  of  the  divine  law.  And  we  cannot  find 
that  God  hath  made  an;,'  law,  or  enabled  any  made  by 
others,  to  oblige  us  so  far,  in  our  present  circumstances, 
as  that  we  sh<.)uld  be  involved  in  the  guilt  of  sin,  by  some 
variation  I'rom  the  letter  of  it.  For  any  divine  law  that 
can  be  supposed  to  oblige  us  to  the  use  of  the  things  we 
scruple,  or  else  to  live  without  the  worship  and  ordinances 
of  God,  not  knowing  any  sucli  ourselves,  we  must  wait 
till  we  be  informed  of  it. 

And  that  his  law  doth  give  an  obliging  force  so  far  to 
any  oihei',  we  asj'et  understand  not.  Wheresoever  he  hath 
been  pleased  to  lodge  and  intrust  the  keys  of  tlie  church, 
we  do  not  find  he  hath  appointed  them  to  that  use,  to  ad- 
mit us  into  the  communion  of  his  worship  and  ordinances, 
or  totally  to  exclude  us,  upon  such  terms.  And  herein  v.e 
suppose  we  have  the  Doctor  consenting  with  us;  who,  in 
his  Irenicum,  (j'age  21G.)  plaiTily  a.sserts,  "that  the  dliice 
which  the  power  of  the  keys  implies  is  ministerial,  and  not 
authoritative  ;  declarative,  and  not  juridical."  And  sa3's 
in  the  preface  to  the  same  book,  that  "he  that  tame  to 
take  away  the  unsupportable  yoke  uf  the  Jewis'h  eeremo- 
nies,  did  never  intend  to  gall  the  disciples'  necks  with  an- 
other instead  of  it."  Whereto  he  immediately  adds  in  the 
same  preface:  "And  it  would  be  strange  the  church 
should  require  more  than  Christ  himself  did ;  and  make 
other  condiiions  of  her  communion,  than  our  Saviour  viid 
of  discipleship.  What  possible  reason  can  be  assigned  or 
given  wh}'  such  things  should  not  be  sufficient  for  com- 
munion with  a  church,  which  are  sufficient  for  eternal 
saivalion?  And  certainly  those  things  are  suflieient  [ov 
that,  which  are  laid  down  by  our  Lord  and  Saviour  in  his 
Avord.  AVhat  ground  can  there  be  why  Christians  should 
not  stand  upon  the  same  terms  now,  Avhich  the}'  did  -in  the 
timeof  Christ  and  his  apostles]  Was  not  religion  sutti- 
ciently  guarded  and  fenced  in  them  1  Was  there  ever  moi  e 
true  and  cordial  reverence  in  the  worship  of  God  1  What 
charter  halh  Christ  given  the  church  to  bind  men  up  to 
more  than  himself  hath  done,  or  to  exclude  tho^^e  ficm 
lier  society,  who  may  be  admitted  into  heaven  1  Will 
Christ  ever  thank  men  at  the  great  day  for  keeping  sncli 
out  from  communion  with  his  church,  whom  he  wil! 
vouchsafe  not  only  crowns  of  glory  to,  but  it  may  be  avrc- 
olce  too,  if  there  be  any  such  things  there "?  The  grand 
commission  the  apostles  were  sent  out  with,  was  only  to 
teach  what  Christ  had  commanded  them.  Not  the  least 
intimation  of  any  power  given  them  to  impose  or  require 
any  thing  beyond  what  himself  had  spoken  to  them,  or 
thej'  were  diiected  to  by  the  immediate  guidance  of  the 
Spirit  of  God.  It  is  not  whether  the  things  commanded 
and  required  be  lawful  or  no;  it  is  not  whether  indiffer- 
ences ina^'  be  determined  or  no  ;  it  is  not  how  far  Chris- 
tians are  bound  to  submit  to  a  restraint  of  their  Christian 
lihert}',  which  I  now  inquire  after;  (of  those  things  in  the 
treatise  itself:)  but  whether  they  do  consult  for  the  church's 
peace  and  unitT,'  who  suspend  it  upon  such  thinsrs  1  how 
lareiiher  the  example  of  our  Savio'.ir  or  his  apostles  doth 
warrant  such  rig  irons  impositions  !  We  never  read  the 
anosiles  making  laws  but  of  things  supposed  necessary. 
When  the  council  of  apostles  met  at  Jerusalem  for  deci- 
ding a  case  that  disturbed  the  church's  peace,  we  see  they 
will  lay  no  other  burden  rXfr  nrn-  iTzivayKti  ruvrotv  besides 


these  necessar\'  things.  Acts  xv.  29.  It  was  not  enough 
with  them  that  the  Things  would  be  necessar)-  when  they 
had  required  them,  but  they  looked  on  an  anlecedem 
necessity  either  absolute  or  for  the  present  slate,  Avhich 
was  the  only  groiuid  of  iheir  imposing  those  commands 
upon  the  Gentile  Chi  istians.  There  were,  after  this,  great 
di'^«rsities  of  praciice  and  varieties  of  observations  among 
Christians,  but  the  Holy  Ghost  never  thought  those  things 
fit  to  be  made  matters  of  laws,  to  which  all  parties  should 
conform ;  all  that  the  apostles  required  ai;  to  these,  was 
mutual  forbearance  and  condescen.sion  towards  each  other 
in  them.  The  apostles  valued  not  differences  at  all,  and 
tho.se  thing.s  it  is  evident  they  accounted  such,  which  whe- 
ther men  did  them  or  not,  was  not  of  concernment  to  sal- 
vation. And  what  reason  is  there  why  men  should  be  so 
stiictly  tied  up  to  such  things,  which  they  may  do  or  lei 
alone,  and  yet  be  veiy  good  Christians  still  ?  Without  all 
controversy  the  main  inlet  of  all  the  distractions,  confu- 
sions, and  -divisions  of  the  Christian  world,  halh  "been  by 
adding  other  condiiions  of  church-communion  than  Christ 
hath  clone." 

Nor  am  I  now  inquiring  whether  the  things  commanded 
be  lawful  or  no;  nor  whether  indiderences  may  be  deter- 
mined 01-  no ;  nor  how  far  Christians  are  bound  to  submit 
to  a  restraint  of  their  Christian  liberty  1  But  only  inquir- 
ing (as  he  there  doth)  concerning  the  charter  given  by 
Christ  for  the  binding  men  up  more  than  himself  hath 
done.  And  I  fuither  inquire,  by  what  power  they  can  be 
bound  which  Christ  hath  not  given  1  And  if  iheie  be  no 
such  power  to  bind  them,  suppose  the  tilings  required 
were  all  lawful,  (which  if  it  can  be  evinced,  I  should  re- 
joice to  see  done,)  yet  while,  lliey  cannot  in  conscience 
think  th'Cy  arc,  how  can  they  apprehend  them.selves  bound 
iobewiihout  the  means  of  salvation,  which  Christ's  cliar- 
ier  entitles  them  to"?  I  readily  giant  it  is  fit  a  man  do 
many  things  for  peace  and  common  order's  sake  whiciij 
othenvise,  no  law  doth  formally  oblige  him  to,  i.  e.  suj>- 
po.^ing  he  can  do  those  things  without  intolerable  prejudice 
to  himself.  And  sj  it  is  commonly  determined  in  the 
inalter  of  scandals.  But  can  it  be  thcaight  a  man  is  to  pnt 
himself  out  of  the  state  or  way  of  .salvation  in  the  compli- 
ment to  such  as  will  otherwise  take  offence  ?  and  be  so 
courteous  as  to  perish  for  ever,  rather  than  they  shall  be 
displeased? 

Yea,  and  it  maybe  moreover  added,  that  our  course  be- 
ing accounted  lawful,  must  also  (as  the  Doctor  speak.*;,  in 
another -case)  be  tivought  ^  duty:  for  the  things  that  are 
as  means  necessary  to  our  salvation,  are  al.so  nece.>-sary  by 
divine  precejjt.  We  are  commanded  to  hear  God's  woi  d,  to 
devote  ourselves  and  our  children  to  God  in  baptism;  and, 
at  the  Lord's  own  table,  to  remember  him,  and  show  forth 
his  death  till  he  come.  And  if  we  compare  together  certain 
positions  of  this  reverend  author,  we  cannot  see  but  he 
must,  as  our  case  is,  aclcnowledge  our  obligation  to  the 
piactiee  which  he  here  seems  to  blame.  For  in  his  Ireni- 
cum (pa<re  100.)  he  asserts,  that  every  Chiistian  is  under 
an  oblijiaiii-n  to  join  in  chur<'h  society  with  others;  l.e- 
caiise  it  is  his  duty  to  profess  himself  a  Christian,  and  lo 
own  his  religion  publicly,  and  to  partake  of  the  ordinances 
and  sacraments  of  the  gospel,  which  cannot  be  without  so- 
cieiy  wi:h  some  church  or  other.  And  he  after  adds,  on 
the  same  page.  "  It  had  been  a  cause,  disputed  of  by  some, 
(particularly  by  Grotius,  the  supposed  author  of  a  liiile 
tract,  An  fcmpcr sit  coKumt'iiioinihint  per  sttniiHiki?  when  he 
designed  the  syncretism  with  the  church  of  Rome,)  whe- 
ther in  a  time  when  churches  are  divided,  it  be  a  Chris- 
tian's duty  to  communicate  wiih  any  o{  those  parties 
which  divide  the  church,  and  not  rather  to  suspend  com- 
munion from  all  of  them."  A  case  not  hard  lobe  decided; 
for  either  the  person  questioning  it  doih  suppose  the 
chuiches  di\Tded  lo  remain  true  churches,  but  some  to  be 
more  pure  than  oth^^r;  in  which  case,  by  virtue  of  hisge- 
neial  oblisation  to  communion,  lie  is  bound  to  adhere  to 
that  church  which  appears  most  to  retain  its  evangelical 
purity.  To  which  purpo.'^e  he  further  lells  us.  page  J  10. 
"  he  knows  not  whether  Chrysostom's  act  were  tt>  be  com- 
mended, who  after  being  made  a  deacon  in  the  church  of 
An-ioch  bv  Meletius,  upon  his  dearh,  bccau-^e  Flavianus 
came  in  irreorularlv  as  bishop  of  the  church,  woulil  nei- 
ther communicate  with  him,  nor  with  Paulinu'*,  another 


172 


A  LETTER  CONCERNING 


bishof)  at  tlial  time  in  the  city,  nor  with  the  Meletians ; 
but  for  three  years'  time  withdrew  himself  from  commu- 
nion with  any  of  them."  And,  page  113.  "  Where  any 
church  is  guilty  of  corruptions  both  in  doctrine  and  prac- 
tice, which  it  avoweth  and  professeth,  and  requireth  the 
owning  them  as  necessary  conditions  of  communion  with 
her,  there  a  non-communion  with  that  church  is  necessa- 
ry, and  a  total  and  positive  separation  is  lawful  and  con- 
venient." What  he  discourses  page  HI,  112.  upon  the 
question,  "Whether  it  is  a  sin  to  communicate  with 
churches  true  as  to  essentials,  but  supposed  corrupt  in  the 
exercise  of  discipline  1"  many  of  us  will  no  doubt  heartily 
concur  with  him  in.  But  it  touches  not  the  case  of  many 
more,  who  do  not  so  much  fear  upon  the  account  of  the 
neglect  of  discipline,  to  be  involved  in  the  guilt  of  other 
men's  sin ;  (as  there  seems  to  be  little  cause,  that  part  being 
not  incumbent  upon  us :)  nor,  if  that  be  his  meaning,  when 
he  speaks  of  separating  on  a  pretence  of  great  purity,  is  it 
the  case  with  most  of  us  :  but  we  justly  fear  (and  therefore 
avoid)  to  be  made  to  sin  ourselves,  by  having  such  things 
as  we  judge  to  be  sinful  imposed  on  us,  as  the  conditions 
of  our  communion.  And  as  to  this  case,  this  reverend 
author  speaks  our  sense  in  this  last  cited  proposition,  and 
pleads  our  present  cause.  Nor  need  we  more  to  be  said 
on  behalf  of  it  than  what  is  reducible  to  that  general  pro- 
position ;  or  particularly,  to  that  second  thing,  compared 
with  the  third,  which  (page  115.)  he  says  "  makes  separa- 
tion and  withdrawraent  of  communion  lawful  and  neces- 
sary;  viz.  corruption  of  practice,  where  we  say  as  he  doth, 
we  speak  not  of  practice,  as  relating  to  the  civil  conver.sa- 
lion  of  men,  but  as  it  takes  in  the  agenda  of  religion  ;  when 
unlawful  things  of  that  kind  are  not  only  crept  into  a 
church,  but  are  the  prescribed  devotion  of  it :  thqse  being 
required  (which  he  adds  as  an  accession  to  the  foregoing) 
as  necessary  conditions  of  communion  from  all  the  mem- 
bers of  their  church,  which  makes  our  withdrawing  from 
them  unavoidably  necessary,  as  long  as  we  judge  them  to 
be  such  corruptions  as  indeed  they  are."  And  whereas  he 
instances  only  in  such  things  as  belong  to  the  head  of 
idolatrous  customs,  (suppressing  what  might  be  instanced 
under  the  other  head,  which  he  also  there  mentions,  viz. 
superstitious  practice,)  yet  we  doubt  not  if  other  things 
also,  that  appear  to  be  sinful,  besides  idolatrous  customs, 
be  required  as  necessary  conditions  of  communions,  the 
case  will  be  the  same,  unless  we  will  distinguish  sins  into 
such  as  be  lawful,  and  such  as  be  unlawful.  Or  there  be 
any  that  may  be  committed,  that  we  may  be  admitted  to 
the  communion  of  this  or  that  church. 

Now,  to  reduce  things  to  the  method  which  suits  the  pre- 
sent case ;  if  this  reverend  author  do  still  judge, — that 
where  sinful  conditions  of  communion  are  imposed,  there 
non-communion  is  necessary,  (and  those  things  be  sinful 
to  us  which  our  consciences  judge  to  be  so,)  as  he  hath  ac- 
knowledged:— and  again,  if  he  still  judge, — that  we  are 
under  an  obligation  to  join  in  church-society,  so  as  to  own 
our  religion  publicly,  and  to  partake  of  the  ordinances  and 
sacraments  of  the  gopsel ; — he  must  certainly  account  that 
our  duty,  which  he  taxes  in  this  sermon  as  our  fault,  at 
]east  till  our  consciences  be  otherwise  informed,  whereof 
many  of  us  have  no  great  hope. 

We  are  indeed  not  so  stupid,  as  not  to  apprehend  there 
are  laws,  the  letter  whereof  seems  adverse  to  us.  Nor  are 
we  so  ungrateful,  as  not  to  acknowledge  his  majesty's  cle- 
mency in  not  subjecting  us  to  the  utmost  rigour  of  those 
laws ;  whom  we  cannot,  without  deep  regret,  so  much  as 
seem  not,  in  every  thing,  exactly  to  obey.  Nor  can  it  enter 
into  our  minds  to  imagine,  that  he  expects  to  be  obeyed  by 
us  at  the  expense  of  our  salvation.  Or  that  it  would  be  at 
all  grateful  to  him,  that  being,  as  we  are,  unsatisfied  in 
some  things  that  are  by  the  law  made  necessary  to  our  par- 
taking the  privileges  of  the  Christian  church,  we  should 
become  pagans  in  duty  to  him.  His  majesty  was  once 
pleased  to  give  an  ample  testimony,  by  his  never  to  be 
forgotten  gracious  declaration  of  March  15,  1672,  how  re- 
mote any  such  thought  was  from  his  royal  breast;  and 
though  we  humbly  submit  to  the  exigency  of  those  rea- 
sons of  state  from  whence  it  proceeded,  that  we  enjoy  not 
the  continued  positive  favour  which  his  majesty  was  then 
pleased  to  express  towards  us  ;  yet  we  have  no  reason  to 
doubt,  but  his  pretensions  are  equally  benign  as  they  were. 


Nor,  thoiigh  it  be  uncertain  to  us  what  laws  they  are, 
the  authority  whereof  this  reverend  person  relies  upon  to 
make  our  practice  sinful,  yei  we  hope  he  doth  not  mean  to 
urge  us  herein  with  the  laws  of  the  civil  government,  be- 
cause those  as  much  forbid  our  non-communion,  (and  un- 
der as  severe  penalty,)  for  which,  he  acquits  us  from  the 
guilt  of  schism,  or,  if  we  endeavour  satisfaction,  from  any 
sin  imputable  to  us. 

But  if  that  should  be  his  meaning,  we  desire  it  may  be 
considered  how  unreasonable  it  seems,  that  the  design  of 
the  law  relating  to  that  part  of  our  piactice,  which  the 
Doctor  in  this  sermon  condemns,  being  declaredly  to  pre- 
vent sedition;  they  should  take  themselves  to  be  meant 
who  are  conscious  of  no  such  design  or  disposition. 

And  again,  that  it  is  not  with  any  reason,  charity,  or 
justice,  to  be  supposed,  that  when  that  and  other  restrictive 
laws  were  made,  either  the  temporal  ruin  of  so  great  a 
part  of  the  nation,  as  are  now  found  to  be  dissenters,  was 
intended  by  the  legislators,  or  the  reducing  them  to  the 
condition  of  heathens.  But  a  uniformity  in  the  worship  of 
God,  being  in  itself  a  thing  really  desirable,  this  means 
was  thought  fit  to  be  tried,  in  order  to  that  end.  And  so 
are  human  laws,  about  such  mutable  matters,  generally 
designed  to  be  probationary ;  the  event  and  success  being 
unforeknown.  Whereupon,  after  a  competent  time  of  trial, 
as  his  majesty  was  graciously  pleased  to  declare  his  own 
favourable  sense  and  intention,  so  it  is  very  commonly 
known,  that  the  like  propensions  were  by  common  sufiiage 
expressed  in  parliament,  viz.  to  gr'ant  a  relaxation.  So 
that  the  law,  being  in  its  own  nature  nothing  else  but  an 
indication  of  the  legislator's  will,  we  may  account  the  thing 
was  in  substance  done,  so  far  as  may  satisfy  a  man's  pri- 
vate reason  and  conscience  concerning  the  lawgiver's  m- 
tention  and  pleasure  ;  though  it  were  not  done  with  that 
formality  as  uses  (and  is  generally  needful)  to  be  stood 
upon,  by  them  who  are  the  ministers  of  the  law.  And  that 
it  was  not  done  with  that  formality  also,  seemed  rather  to 
be  from  a  disagreement  about  the  manner  or  method  of 
doing  it,  than  about  the  thing  to  be  done.  And  how  usual 
is  it  for  laws,  without  formal  repeal,  gently  and  gradually 
to  expire,  grow  old,  and  vanish  away,  not  being  longer 
useful,  as  the  ritual  part  of  the  Mosaical  law  did  become 
an  ineffectual  and  unprofitable  thing!  And  how  easy 
were  it  to  instance  in  many  other  laws,  the  letter  of  which, 
they  that  urge  these  against  the  dissenters,  do  without 
scruple  transgress!  and  from  which  no  such  weighty 
reasons  do  urge  to  borrow  now  and  then  a  point.  How 
many  dispense  with  themselves  in  many  parts  of  their  re- 
quired conformity,  that  have  obliged  themselves  to  it ! 
The  priests  in  the  temple  transgress  the  law,  and  are  blame- 
less. Yea,  and  he  that  knows  all  things,  and  who  is  Judge 
of  all,  knows  how  little  scruple  is  made  of  transgressing 
the  laws  by  gross  immoralities  and  debaucheries.  Men 
learn  to  judge  of  the  sacredness  of  laws  by  their  own  in- 
clinations. Any  that  can  be  wire-drawn,  and  made  by  tor- 
ture to  speak  against  religion  not  modified  their  way,  must 
be  most  binding.  Such  as  prohibit  the  vilest  and  most 
open  wickedness,  bind  as  the  withs  did  Samson. 

The  sum  of  all  is,  that  whereas  we  are  under  the  obliga- 
tion of  the  divine  law  to  worship  God  in  the  use  of  those 
his' ordinances  which  require  to  be  dispensed  and  attended 
in  society,  and  that  we  apprehend  we  cannot  do  it  without 
sin  in  the  way  this  reverend  author  invites  us  to.  Where- 
as also  we  do,  with  this  author,  deliberate,  whether  Christ 
hath  given  any  power  to  men  to  oblige  us  to  the  things  we 
scruple,  or  disoblige  us  from  the  things  we  practise,  and 
judge  it  unproved.  We  cannot  but  reckon  the  judgment 
the  Doctor  hath  given  in  our  case  (that  our  practice  is  sin- 
ful) is  erroneous  and  indefensible  by  any  man,  but  least 
fitly,  of  most  other  men,  attempted  to  be  defended  by  him- 
self. From  whom  it  would  little  have  been  expected  that 
he  should  so  earnestly  recommend  that  very  thing  to  us, 
as  the  only  foundation  of  union,  which  he  had  so  publicly 
told  us  in  his  preface  to  the  Irenicum,  "was,  without  con- 
troversy, the  main  inlet  of  all  the  distractions,  confu- 
sions, and  divisions  of  the  Christian  world,  viz.  the  adding 
other  conditions  of  church-communion  than  Christ  hath 
done." 

And  though  he  hath  lately  told  the  world,  there  are  some 
passages  in  that  book  that  show  only  the  inconsiderateness 


DR.  STILLIXGFLEET'S  SERMON. 


173 


of  youth,  and  that  he  seems  to  wish  unsaid,  yet  he  hath 
not,  that  we  know,  declared  that  these  are  some  of  them. 
However,  since  this  present  determination  and  judgment 
of  his  against  us  is  so  peremptory  and  positive,  as  well  as 
severe,  let  us,  in  the  next  place, 

2.  Consider,  and  carefully  examine,  as  we  are  concerned, 
what  he  hath  performed  iii  defence  of  it ;  and,  it  is  to  be 
hoped,  the  inefficacy  and  weakness  of  his  attempt  therein 
will  sufficiently  appear.  What  I  can  find  in  his  sermon 
hath  anv  aspect  or  design  that  way,  is  either  ad  rem,  or 
ad  homhiem.  And,  to  my  apprehension,  his  reasonings, 
of  the  one  kind  or  the  other,  are  altogether  unconcluding. 
(1.)  As  to  what  may  be  supposed  to  be  ad  rem,  if  you 
look  narrowly,  you  w'lll  find,  that  the  principal  things 
allegf^d  by  him, "that  can,  under  that  notion,  give  support 
to  his  cause,  are  only  affirmed,  but  not.  proved.  For  in- 
stance, page  9.  when  he  tells  us,  that  the  "  apostle  sup- 
posed the  necessity  of  one  fixed  and  certain  rule,"  &c. 
This  had  been  very  material  to  his  purpose;  if,  1.  He 
had  told  us,  and  had  proved,  the  apostle  meant  some  rule 
or  o'her  superadded  to  the  sacred  Scriptures ;  for  then  he 
might,  it  is  to  be  presumed,  as  easily  have  let  us  know 
what  that  rule  was,  which,  most  probably,  would  have 
ended  all  our  controversy  ;  it  being  little  to  be  doubted, 
we  should  all  most  readily  have  agreed  to  obey  it :  or, 
secondly,  If  he  had  proved,  that,  because  the  apostle  had 
power  to  make  such  a  rule,  and  oblige  the  churches  to 
observe  it,  that  therefore  such  church-guides  as  they, 
whose  cause  the  Doctor  pleads,  have  an  equal  power  to 
make  other  rules  divers  from  his,  containing  many  new 
things,  which  he  never  enjoined,  and  to  enforce  them  upon 
the  church  (though  manifestly  tending  to  its  destruction, 
rather  than  edification.)  But  these  things  he  doth  but 
suppose  himself,  without  colour  of  proof 

Again,  for  his  notion  of  churches,  page  16,  17,  18,  19. 
examine  as  strictly  as  you  will  what  he  says  about  it;  and 
see  whether  it  come  to  any  thing  more  than  only  to  repre- 
sent a  national  church  a  possible  thing  1  And  whereto  the 
name  church  may  without  absurdity  be  given.  His  own 
words  seem  to  him  no  higher.  "  Why  may  there  not  be 
one  national  church  from  the  consent  in  the  same  articles 
of  religion,  and  the  same  order  of  worship  1"  page  18. 
"  The  word  was  used  in  the  first  ages  of  the  Christian 
church,  as  it  comprehended  the  ecclesiastical  governors, 
and  the  people  of  whole  cities.  And  why  many  of  these 
cities  being  united  together  under  one  civil  government 
and  the  same  rules  of  religion,  should  not  be  called  one 
national  church,  I  cannot  understand,"  page  19. 

But  can  it  now  be  inferred  thence,  that  therefore  God 
hath  actually  constituted  every  Christian  kingdom  or  na- 
tion such  a  church  1  Can  it  further  be  inferred,  that  he 
hath  invested  the  guides  of  this  church,  not  chosen  by  the 
people  (according  to  Scripture,  and  primitive  practice  for 
some  ages)  with  a  power  to  make  laws  and  decrees,  pre- 
scribing not  only  thing  necessary  for  common  order  and 
decency,  but  new  federal  rites,  and  teaching  signs  and 
symbols,  superadded  to  the  whole  Christian  institution; 
with  many  more  dubious  and  unnecessarj^  things  besides  1 
And  to  exclude  sober  and  pious  Christians  from  the  pri- 
vileges that  are  proper  to  the  Christian  church,  as  such, 
merely  for  that  out  of  conscience  towards  God,  they  dare 
not  admit  into  their  ■worship  those  additions  to  the  Chris- 
tian religion  1  To  take  order  they  shall  have  no  pastors, 
no  sacraments,  no  assemblies  for  worship  1  And  because 
they  will  not  be  so  much  more  than  Christians,  that  they 
shall  not  be  Christians  at  all  1 

He  that  would  go  about  to  make  these  inferences  merely 
from  the  forementioned  ground,  would  gain  to  be  laughed 
at  by  all  sober  men,  instead  of  a  conclusion  ;  whatsoever 
better  success  he  should  have,  who  should  undertake  to 
prove  the  same  things  any  other  way. 

This  reverend  author  was  so  wise  as  not  to  attempt 
either  of  these.  But  then,  in  the  meantime,  what  doth  the 
mere  possible  notion  of  such  a  church  advantage  his 
cause  1  Because  it  is  possible,  there  might  have  been  such 
a  Macedonian,  or  such  a  Lydian  church,  is  such  a  one 
therefore  necessary  1  and  any  other  constitution  of  a 
Christian  church  impossible,  or  unlawful  1  Or  because 
the  general  meeting  of  magistrates  of  the  whole  city  and 
people  together  in  pagan  Athens  was  called  'Ev.:,\/;Tia, 


therefore  such  must  be  the  constitution  of  a  Christian 
church?  and  therefore  such  a  church  hath  such  powers 
from  Christ  as  were  above  mentioned  1 

Here  how.soever  we  make  our  stand,  and  say  that  till 
the  Doctor  hath  proved  these  two  things  ; 

[1.]  That  such  a  church  as  he  hath  given  us  the  notion 
of,  as  of  a  thing  merely  possible,  is  actually  a  divine  in- 
stitution ;  and, 

[2]  That  God  hath  given  to  the  ecclesiastical  governors 
in  it  never  chosen  by  the  Christian  community,  or  to  any 
other  power,  to  superadd  institutions  of  the  nature  above 
mentioned,  and  to  enforce  them  under  the  mentioned 
penalties  :  all  his  reasonings  that  pretend  to  be  ad  rem,  are 
to  no  purpose,  and  do  nothing  at  all  advantage  his  cause. 

Yet  there  are  some  passages  in  this  part  of  his  dis- 
course, that  though  they  signify  nothing  to  his  main  pur- 
pose, are  yet  very  remarkable,  and  which  'tis  fit  we  should 
take  some  notice  of. 

As  when,  page  Ki.  he  tells  us  what  he  means  by  whole 
churches ;  viz.  "  The  churches  of  such  nations,  which 
upon  the  decay  of  the  Roman  empire,  resumed  their  just 
power  of  government  to  themselves  ;  and  upon  their  own- 
ing Christianity,  incorporated  into  one  Christian  >ocietv, 
under  the  same  common  ties  and  rules  of  order  and  gov- 
ernment." As  if  there  could  be  no  whole  churches  in  the 
world  that  had  not  been  of  the  Roman  empire,  or  as  if 
those  of  the  Roman  empire  could  not  have  been  \\  hole 
churches  without  resumption  of  the  civil  government ;  as 
wc  suppose  he  means. 

Or,  as  if  (which  he  intimates,  page  19.)  we  needed  this 
(so  dearly  e.spoused  notion  as  a  ground)  to  acquit  us  from 
the  imputation  of  schism,  in  our  separating  from  the  church 
of  Rome.  Which  certainl}'  it  were  not  for  the  advantage 
of  the  protestant  cause  to  admit ;  for  then  all  that  remain 
within  the  empire,  were  bound  to  continue  in  the  com- 
munion of  the  Roman  church.  And  in  the  other  kinsr- 
doms,  where  princes  have  not  resumed  their  just  rieht 
of  reforming  errors  in  doctrine  and  corruptions  in  wur- 
ship,  all  should  be  schismatics  that  should  separate  from 
the  church  of  Rome. 

Again,  when,  page  17.  he  would  confute  that  great 
mistake,  the  making  the  notion  of  a  church  barely  to  re- 
late to  acts  of  worship  ;  (a  mistake  whereof  I  never  knew 
any  man  guilty ;)  he  surely  runs  into  as  great  an  opposite 
mistake,  in  making  the  notion  of  a  church  to  be  no  more 
than  of  a  society  of  men  united  together,  for  their  order 
and  government,  accoiding  to  the  rules  of  the  Christian 
religion.  Now  faith  and  worship  are  quite  excluded  the 
notion  of  a  church  ;  and  order  and  government,  and  the. 
rules  of  the  Christian  religion,  but  as  they  refer  to  these, 
only  included.  Whence  it  will  come  to  pass,  thai  we  can 
have  no  notion  of  one  catholic  church,  fromM'hich  yet  he 
argues  at  the  bottom  of  the  same  page. 

Nor,  though  I  dislike  the  thing,  do  I  understand  the 
strength  of  the  Doctor's  argument,  against  making  the 
notion  of  the  church  barely  to  relate  to  acts  of  worship; 
riz.  That  if  this  held  true,  the  church  must  be  dissolved 
as  soon  as  the  congregation  is  broken  up.  For  will  it  not 
also  follow  as  well,  that  if  the  notion  of  a  church  relate 
only  to  order  and  government,  ever}-  time  any  meeting  for 
afiairs  of  order  and  government  is  broken  up,  the  church 
is  dissolved  7  And  that  an  assembler  of  the  states  in  any 
kingdom  or  nation  cannot  break  up  without  a  dissolution 
of  the  government  ?  A  parliament  (at  least)  not  adjourn 
or  be  prorogued  without  being  dissolved  1  And  whereas 
he  adds.  But  if  they  retain  the  nature  of  a  church,  when 
they  do  not  meet  together  for  worship,  then  there  is  some 
other  bond  that  unites  them,  and  whatever  that  is.  it  con- 
stitutes the  church.  Is  it  not  possible  there  mav  be  such 
a  bond  for  worship,  as  well  as  for  government  1  an  obliga- 
tion to  meet  at  stated  limes  for  that  purpose,  when  they 
are  not  met  1  And  then  (if  this  were  all  that  were  to  be 
said  to  the  contrary)  why  might  not  that  bond  as  well  serve 
to  constitute  the  church  1  But, 

(2.)  For  his  reasonings  ad  hominevi,  they  need  not  de- 
tain us  long ;  he  argues  from  the  judgment  of  the  assembly 
of  divines  and  others.  All  which  arguing  must  suppose, 
if  it  concern  us,  that  we  are  bound  to  be  of  ihe  same  judg- 
ment with  the  ministers  that  are  and  have  been  so  and  so 
minded  ;  which  I  for  my  part  understand  not.    But  I  per- 


174 


A  LETTRR  CONCERNING 


ceive  here  his  intention  is,  having  endeavoured  to  draw 
us  off  Iroin  our  ministers ;  now  to  move  another  stone, 
and  try  if  he  can  draw  them  otf  from  ns. 

For  the  assembly,  I  think  it  fit  those  that  survive  of 
them  should  be  as  much  concluded  by  what  they  then  de- 
termined, as  this  reverend  author  by  the  Irenicum.  But  I 
know  no  reason  that  such  as  they  represented,  nor  who 
ever  pretended  to  be  of  their  party,  should  be  concluded 
to  the  world's  end.  Nor  do  understand  why  even  the 
same  party  may  not  be  as  well  supposed  in  a  possibility  to 
vary  from  itself  in  forty  years,  as  the  same  man  from  him- 
self in  less  than  twenty.  If  they  did  incline  to  deal  too 
hardly  with  their  brethren,  that  will  not  justify  them  who 
deal  more  hardly.  'Tis  hoped  such  as  have  been  so  in- 
clined, have  been  smitten,  and  suffered  the  rebukes  of  the 
Almighty,  repented  it,  and  are  become  wiser :  and  when 
some  think  themselves  grown  wiser  by  prosperity,  others 
by  adversity,  there  is  less  reason  to  suspect  the  latter. 

Yet  also  this  reverend  author  ought  to  have  considered 
the  great  disparity  of  the  cases  he  would  parallel.  For 
when  one  sort  of  men  are  considering  of  having  only  such 
a  frame  of  things  settled,  as  are  imposed  by  Christ  him- 
self, whether  they  judge  rightly  or  no,  that  he  hath  im- 
posed every  part  of  that  frame,  yet  while  they  think  and 
judge  that  he  hath,  and  consequently  that  nothing  is  to  be 
abated  of  it :  'twere  very  unfitly  argued,  that  therefore 
another  sort  professing  to  impose  many  things  never  im- 
posed by  Christ,  should  abate  nothing  of  their  unnecessary 
impositions. 

For  such  as  the  Doctor  quotes  besides  of  the  nonconform- 
ists, acknowledging  the  parish  churches  true  churches, 
and  the  lawfulness  of  holding,  sometimes,  communion 
with  some  of  them  ;  it  is  not  to  be  thought  but  among  so 
many  parlies  as  come  all  under  one  common  notion  of 
dissenters  from  the  public  rule,  (and  whom  that  rule  did 
not  find  one,  but  made  them  so  in  that  common  notion,) 
there  must  be  great  diversity  of  opinions,  and  proportion- 
ably  differing  practices  in  these  matters.  I  heartily  prefer 
the  most  moderate,  as  I  believe  you  do.  But  here  this 
reverend  author  takes  occasion  for  so  ignominious  reflec- 
tions upon  our  preachers,  as  insincere,  dishonest,  and  un- 
conscientious, as  I  doubt  not,  in  one  twenty  years  more, 
his  ingenuity  will  oblige  him  to  repent  more  heartily,  than 
ever  it  permitted  him  to  do  of  his  Irenicum.  Because  he 
can  allege  a  very  few  persons  that  have  spoken  to  this  pur- 
pose, therefore,  first,  it  must  be  represented  to  the  world  as 
their  common  judgment;  next  they  are  charged  with  con- 
cealing this  judgment ;  (why  is  this  kept  up  as  such  a  mighly 
secret  in  the  breasts  of  their  teachers'?  page  37.)  and  then  it  is 
endeavoured  to  make  men  think  they  practise  against  their 
own  judgments,  in  preaching  to  separate  congregations. 

Surely  you  and  I  are  concerned,  as  we  have  occasion,  to 
say  what  we  truly  can,  for  the  just  vindication  of  our 
ministers.  I  doubt  riot  but  you  believe,  and  you  have,  for 
some,  particular  reason  to  be  confident ;  it  is  for  our  .sakes 
they  expose  themselves  to  the  displeasui'e  of  such  men  as 
Dr.  St.     I  must,  for  my  part,  sa}', 

[1.]  That  I  believe  it  to  be  the  judgment  of  very  few, 
that  every  parish  is,  as  such,  a  true  Christian  church.  I 
am  sorry  I  have  such  a  ground  to  fear  it  of  one  kind,  viz. 
that  some  may  not  be  so,  as  not  having  among  them  any 
tolerable  understanding  of  the  most  confessedly  funda- 
mental principles  of  Christian  religion.  What  say  you  to 
such,  where  the  minister  is  grossly  ignorant  of  the  princi- 
ples of  religion,  or  habitually  vicious,  and  of  a  profligate 
life  1  Do  mere  orders  make  him  a  minister,  who  (perhaps 
since  he  received  them)  is  become  destitute  of  the  most  es- 
sential qualifications  1  any  more  tiian  the  habit,  a  monk"?  or 
a  beard,  a  philosopher  1  Can  a  Mercury  be  made  of  every 
log '?  Not  to  insist  that  this  reverend  author  can  scarce 
think  they  are,  from  a  ground  of  another  kind,  because 
they  assemble  only  for  worship,  and  not  for  government. 

[2.]  And-  surely,  a  church  may  be  unfit  to  be  commu- 
nicated with,  although  it  be  a  true  church;  (those  words 
of  the  reverend  and  worthy  dean  of  Canterbury  carry  their 
own  light  with  them  to  this  purpose ;  •')  as  a  man  may  be 
truly  and  really  a  man,  though  he  have  the  plague  upon 
him,  and  for  that  reason  be  fit  to  be  avoided  by  all  that 
wish  well  to  themselves.  'Tis  true,  there  are  vastly  difler- 
a  Scnnon  on  Josh.  xxiv.  15. 


ent  degrees  of  that  unfitness.  But  I  see  not  how  they  can 
apprehend  there  is  the  fitness  which  is  simply  necessary, 
who  judge  there  are  conditions  of  communion  imposed 
that  are  sinful. 

And  I  believe  this  reverend  author  will  think  it  possible 
a  true  church  may  impose  some  sinful  conditions  of  her 
communion ;  in  which  case,  he  hath  determined  a  non- 
communion  with  her  necessary  and  unavoidable. 

[3.]  For  those  that  are  of  that  judgment,  the  parochial, 
a.ssemblies  ought  to  be  communicated  with  so  far  as  is 
alleged  was  declared.  As  I  know  none  of  the  dissenting 
ministers,  that  thought  they  ought  always  and  only  to  be 
communicated  with,  so  I  see  not  wilh  what  pretence  it  can 
be  said  they  keep  up  their  judgment  herein,  as  a  mighty 
secret.  If  it  be  so,  how  came  this  author  to  have  it  re- 
vealed to  him  1  Is  printing  it  to  the  world  keeping  it 
secret  1  Some  have  published  it  in  that  way,  as  we  see  is 
known  to  the  Doctor.  Others,  by  their  frequent  discourses, 
and  their  own  practice.  And,  to  my  observation,  divers  of 
them  have  in  their  sermons  made  it  much  their  business 
to  dispose  the  minds  of  their  hearers  to  a  truly  catholic 
Christian  union,  as  I  have  been  much  pleased  to  take  no- 
tice, some  of  the  conforming  clergy  do  also.  But  if  this 
be  the  Doctor's  quarrel  with  any  of  our  ministers,  (who 
thinly  such  communion  lawful)  that  they  do  not  constantly, 
in  every  sermon,  inculcate  the  business  of  communicating 
in  the  ceremonial  way,  for  my  part,  I  shall  blame  them  as 
much  as  he,  when  once  he  hath  made  it  very  evident,  that 
the  ceremonies  are  more  profitable,  and  likely  to  do  more 
good  to  the  souls  of  men,  than  repentance,  the  faith  of  the 
gospel,  the  fear  of  God,  a  good  life  in  this  world,  and 
eternal  life  in  the  other;  which  I  confess  are  the  more 
usual  subjects,  so  far  as  I  have  had  the  opportunity  to  ob- 
serve, of  their  preaching. 

And,  let  me  add,  that  I  can  tell  you  of  a  secret,  which 
some  might  be  apt  to  think  (as  it  is  really  so)  is  indus- 
triously and  much  more  unrighteously  kept  up  in  one 
man's  breast,  that  may  be  conscious  of  a  great  design  in 
it.  The  author  of  the  book,  entitled,  The  Weapon  Salve, 
or  Irenicum,  seems  to  have  found  it  some  inconveniency 
to  him,  to  have  been  the  author  of  so  good  a  book ;  where- 
upon, in  a  certain  soliloquy,  (though  he  is  pleased  to  re- 
present It  as  a  tripartite  dialogue,)  he  asks  himself  his  own 
opinion  of  it,  and  gives  himself  this  answer  :  I  will  tell 
you  freely  (as  you  know  men  use  great  liberty  in  talking 
with  themselves,  though  prudence  would  direct  that  to  be 
done  in  some  cases  with  great  caution,  and  not  to  talk  in- 
convenient things  too  loud,  le.st  they  be  too  much  over- 
heard) I  believe  there  are  many  things  in  it,  which  if  Dr. 
St.  were  to  write  now,  he  would  not  have  said ;  for  there 
are  some  things  which  show  his  youth,  and  Avant  of  due 
consideration  ;  others,  in  which  he  yielded  too  far,  &c. 
Now  here  (though  I  believe  he  had  begun  to  be  inclined 
to  throw  away  his  salve,  and  use  only  the  weapon  for  the 
wounding  of  sound  parts,  not  the  cutting  off  the  incurable, 
yet)  I  conceive  one  may  safely  enough  take  it  for  granted, 
his  intention  was  not  to  retract  the  whole  book.  But 
whereas  he  tells  us  not  what  he  doth  :  how  would  the 
Doctor  take  it  if  one  should  ask,  Why  is  this  kept  up  as 
such  a  mighty  secret  in  his  own  breast  1  Or,  .say  the  ten- 
derness cf  his  mind  might,  'tis  likely,  out  of  mere  shame- 
facedness,  keep  him  from  declaring  against  what  his  own 
conscience  tells  him  is  truth ;  however,  this  retractation 
cannot  make  that  which  was  true  become  false.  The 
reason  of  things  is  sullen,  and  will  not  niter  to  serve  men's 
conveniences.  Perhaps,  indeed,  his  judgment  is  really 
altered.  If  therefore  he  would  acquit  himself  like  an 
honest  and  conscientious  man,  let  him  tell  the  world 
plainly,  which  be  the  pernicious  principles  of  that  book, 
that  honest  and  conscientious  men,  who  have  thought  well 
of  many  things  in  it,  (and  perhaps  the  same  things  which 
he  now  disapproves,)  may  not  always  be  deceived  by  the 
shows  of  reason  that  deceived  him.self,  and  by  which  he 
deceived  them.  The  same  justice  that  obliges  not  to  lay 
a  stumbling-block  in  the  way  of  the  blind,  doth  also 
oblige  him  to  remove  it  who  hath  laid  it :  which  is  to  be 
done,  not  by  professing  another  opinion,  for  we  depend  not 
on  his  authority,  which  he  hath  himself  so  much  dimin- 
ished ;  but  on  the  reasons  he  alleged,  which  if  they  were 


Dll.  STILLIXGFLEET'S  SERMOX. 


r 


fallacious,  let  him  show  wherein,  and  answer  his  own 
reasons.  To  sa}"-  the  truth,  the  gravity  and  seriousness 
wherewith  that  book  was  written,  appears  to  have  so  little 
of  the  youih  in  it,  in  comparison  of  the  jocularity  and 
sportful  humour  of  some  of  his  latter  writings,  when  he 
hath  been  discussing  the  most  weighty  and  important  cases 
of  conscience,  that  it  seems  as  a  prodigy  in  nature,  and 
that  he  began  his  life  at  tlie  wrong  end  ;  that  he  was  old  in 
his  youth,  and  reserved  his  puerility  to  his  n:iore  grown 
age.  But  we  hope  there  is  a  great  residue  behind,  wherein 
he  may  have  opportunity  and  inclination  to  show  the 
world,  that  he  did  not  repent  the  pious  design  of  that 
book;  or,  at  least,  with  a  repentance  that  (can  as  well  as 
that)  ought  to  be  repented  of 

[4.)  And  whereas  such  of  the  dissenting  ministers,  as 
have  most  openly  declared  for  communicating  at  some 
limes  with  some  of  the  parochial  churches,  have  also  de- 
clared theii'  judgment  of  the  lawfulness  and  necessity  of 
preaching  and  hearing,  and  doing  otlier  religious  duties,  in 
other  congregations  also  :  if  now  either  the  Doctor  discern 
not  the  inconsistency  of  these  things,  or  they  discern  not 
their  inconsistency ;  is  there  nothing  to  be  said  or  thouglit, 
but  that  they  acquit  not  themselves  like  honest  and  con- 
scientious men  '!  Must  it  be  taken  for  a  demonstiation  of 
a  man's  want  of  honesty  and  conscience,  not  to  be  pre- 
senth'  of  the  Doctor's  opinion  in  eveiy  thing  ■?  or  not  to  see 
every  consequence  which  he  sees,  or  thinks  he  sees  1 

But  let  us  consider  the  goodness  of  this  consequence, 
whicli  it  must  be  so  great  a  piece  of  dishonesty  not  to  dis- 
cern. If  it  be  the  duty  of  some  to  communicate  some- 
times with  some  parish  churches,  (for  this  is  the  most  the 
Doctor  could  make  of  that  relator's  concession,  whom  he 
cites  page  21,  22.  of  his  sermon.)  therefore  it  is  the  duly 
of  every  one  to  communicate  with  any  parish  church 
where  his  abode  is,  so  constant!}'  and  entirely  as  never  to 
have  any  communion  with  any  otherwise  constituted  con- 
gregation. 

This  is  the  thing  must  be  to  his  purpose  inferred  ;  yea, 
and  he  would  have  it  be  from  somewhat  a  lower  premise. 
For  he  'ells  us,  page  37.  "that  he  dare  say,  if  most  of  the 
preachers  at  this  day  in  the  separate  meetings  were  soberly 
asked  their  judgments,  whether  it  were  lawful  (only)  for 
the  people  to  join  with  us  in  the  public  assemblies,  the}' 
■would  not  deny  it."  He  surely  dares  not  say  that  their 
meaning  was,  that  it  was  lawful  constantly  to  join  with 
them  in  all  their  parochial  assemblies,  unless  he  dares  say, 
what  he  hath  not,  from  any  of  them,  the  least  ground  io 
think.  Now  hereupon  he  collects,  page  38.  that  our  min- 
isters cannot  declare  so  much  in  a  separate  congregation, 
but  this  truth  must  fly  in  their  faces;  because  he  suppo- 
scth  it  repugnant  to  it,  to  preach  at  all  in  a  separate  con- 
gregation; and  yet  afterwards,  on  the  same  ])age,  he  so 
well  agrees  with  himself  as  to  bid  them,  if  they  \vould  ac- 
quit themselves  like  honest  and  conscientious  men,  tell  the 
people  plainly  that  they  look  on  our  churches  as  true 
churches,  and  that  they  may  lawfully  communicate  with  us 
in  prayers  and  sacranients.  And  where  are  they  to  tell  them 
so,  but  in  the  separate  congregations  1  Singly  and  severallv 
he  knows  it  were  impossible.  Nor  do  I  think  he  would 
reckon  honesty  and  conscience  obli2:ed  them  to  come  and 
tell  the  people  so  in  their  congregations. 

Now  I  am  afraid  there  are  but  a  very  few  honest  and 
conscientious  men  in  the  world  at  this  day,  if  none  are  to 
go  for  such,  but  who  can  perceive  the  strength  and  reason- 
ableness of  the  above-mentioned  consequence. 

And  that  you  mav  farther  see  what  reasons  our  minis- 
ters may  have,  notwithstanding  all  the  alleged  concessions, 
to  administer  in  the  worship  of  God  in  our  assemblies; 
though  it  were  never  so  much  their  common  universal 
judgment,  that  they  and  we  might  sometimes  communicate 
in  some  of  the  parochial ;  let  us  consider,  that  in  the  more 
populous  and  frequented  places,  as  with  you  at  London 
for  instance,  the  churches  cannot  receive,  some  not  a  tenth 
part,  some  not  half  the  people  belonging  to  them,  few  can 
receive  all.  Methinks  good  men  should  not  be  otTended 
that  multitudes  do  in  this  di.^tress  relieve  themselves  bv 
resorting  to  other  places  for  necessary  instruction.  And 
though  they  be  the  inclinations  of  the  people  that  divide 
ihem  this  way,  and  that  (as  it  can  be  nothing  else)  though 
places  for  their  resort  be  not  every  where  mo  it  couveniemly 


situate  for  their  resort,  where  there  is  most  need,  (which 
must  be  taken  not  always  where  it  were  most  desirable, 
but  where  they  can  be  had,)  yet  they  that  have  a  mind,  had 
better  go  to  places  at  a  more  inconvenient  distance,  than 
have  no  whither  to  go;  and  it  is  better  the  necessities  of 
many  should  be  provided  for  in  such  an  exigency,  than  of 
none.  In  the  meantime,  the  churches  of  worthy  "conform- 
ing ministers  in  such  populous  places  are  generally  filled, 
as  I  have  been  informed,  and  have  sometimes  had  occasion 
to  observe. 

Do  not  necessities  of  a  much  lower  nature  oblige  us  to 
recede  from  stated  human  rules  1  It  is  well  known  there 
is  a  law  against  relieving  such  as  begoiu  of  their  own  pa- 
rishes. But  if  one  find  upon  the  road  such  a  poor  wietch 
ready  to  perish,  am  I  not  bound,  notwithstanding,  if  I  can, 
to  relieve  him?  And  who  would  think,  in  such  a  case,  I 
transgressed  the  true  intention  of  the  law? 

Yea,  and  God's  own  laws  respecting  rituals,  common 
order,  and  the  external  part  of  religion,  were  by  his  own 
direction  to  yield  to  far  less  urgent  necessities;  to  the 
plucking  an  ass  or  an  ox  out  of  a  ditch  ;  how  much  more 
the  souls  of  men  !  Have  we  not  read  what  David  did 
when  he  was  an  hungered,  and  they  that  were  with  him, 
how  he  entered  into  the  liouse  of  God,  and  did  eat  the 
shew-bread,  which  it  was  not  lawful  foi'him  lo  eat,  neither 
for  them  which  were  with  him,  but  only  for  the  priests'? 
How  expressly  is  it  alleged  by  our  blessed  Saviour, 
against  those  nice  and  punctilious  observers  and  urgers  of 
the  letter  of  the  law,  the  Pharisees,  I  will  have  mercy  and  not 
sacrifice.  And  if  he  were  willing  to  abate  a  sacrifice  lo 
himself,  that  there  might  be  room  for  the  exercise  of  meicy 
towards  men's  bodies,  how  monitory  and  rcfuehensive 
should  that  be  to  such  merciless  persons,  as  would  have 
the  very  souls  of  men  themselves  be  sacrificed  to  theirsliff 
and  unyielding  humours !  Positive  laws  cease  to  bind 
when,  by  accident,  they  thwart  the  law  of  nature.  Which 
binds  to  nothing  more  deeply  than  the  endeavour  of  saving 
one's  own  soul,  and  (within  the  bounds  of  his  calling)  his 
neisfhbour's  as  his  own. 

What  if  many  of  our  ministers  think  it  lawful,  and,  at 
some  times,  a  duty,  to  join  in  soiue  of  the  public  assem- 
blies! It  is  not  then  their  duty,  when  an  inviiiiig  oppor- 
tunity, and  so  urging  necessities,  lay  betore  them  greater 
duty.  This  reverend  author  tells  us,  very  pertinently  lo 
this  purpose,  when  he  was  declaiming  against  us  and  our 
ministers,  page  31.  of  his  sermon:  "It  is  a  great  fault 
ajuong  some  who  pretend  to  great  niceness  in  some  posi- 
tive duties,  that  they  have  some  little  regard  to  com- 
parative duties;  for  that  which  may  be  a  duty  in  one  case, 
when  it  comes  to  thwart  a  greater  duty,  may  be  none." 
This  doctrine  we  learn  from  our  blessed  Saviour  in  the 
case  of  the  obligation  of  the  Sabbath  ;  which  he  makes  to 
yield  to  duties  of  mercy.  And  can  we  think  that  a  duty 
lying  upon  us,  which,  in  our  circumstances,  makes  a  far 
greater  duty  impracticable  1  We  acknowledse  order  and 
unity  very  lovely  and  desirable  things,  but  we  think  it  of 
greater  importance  that  the  ministers  with  whom  such 
fault  is  found,  conduct  men,  though  not  in  so  accurate 
order,  (which  thev  cannot  help,)  to  heaven,  than  let  them 
go  in  the  best  order,  yea  (and  as  the  case  is)  without  any 
at  all,  lo  hell. 

And  what  though  the  necessity  of  many  of  us  arise  from 
our  own  scruples,  and  what  though  those  scruples  were 
without  ground,  doth  it  therefore  follow  we  must  be  aban- 
doned to  perish  ?  when  our  very  error,  if  we  be  willing  to 
admit  conviction,  (as  we  sincerely  are,  could  the  matter 
admit  it,)  is  not  imputable  to  us  for  a  sin.  This  author 
was  once  pleased  to  make  it  one  of  his  proposals  for  ac- 
commodation, page  64.  of  his  Irenicum  ;  "  That  no  sanc- 
tions be  made,  nor  mulcts  nor  penalties  be  inflicted  en 
sucli,  M'ho  only  dissent  from  the  use  of  some  things,  whose 
lav.tulness  they  at  present  scruple,  till  si'fficient  time  and 
means  be  use<l  for  their  information  of  the  nature  and  in- 
differency  of  the  things  ;  that  it  may  be  seen  whether  it  be 
out  of  wilf'ul  contempt,  and  obstinacv  of  spirit,  or  only 
weakness  of  conscience,  and  dissatisfaction  concerning  the 
things  themselves,  that  they  disobey.  And  if  it  be  made 
evident  to  be  out  of  contempt,  that  only  such  penalties  be 
inflicted  as  answer  to  the  nature  of  the  ofl^ence."  Where 
he  adds,  "  I  am  sure  it  is  contrary  to  the  primitive  practice. 


17G 


A  LETTER  CONCERNING 


and  the  moderation  then  used,  to  suspend  and  deprive  men 
of  their  ministerial  function  for  not  conforming  in  habits, 
gestures,  or  the  like."  Which  he  makes  good  by  follow- 
ing instances  beyond  his  own  present  contradictions.  Ii 
is  strange  that  for  such  like  things,  now,  it  is  thought  so 
highly  jast,  that  our  ministers  are  totally  to  be  kept  out  of 
the  ministry,  and  we  out  of  the  church,  and  way  of  salva- 
tion! Are  these  unproixjrtionable  penalties  even  where 
contempt  appears  1  And  what  are  they  when,  through 
God's  mercy,  there  appears  not  the  least  colour  of  it  1 

Is  mere  scrupling  a  human  device  in  the  worship  of 
God,  an  inability  to  see  with  other  men's  eyes,  and  to 
mould  and  form  our  judgment  and  consciences  as  some 
other  men  can  do  theirs,  a  crime  so  inexpiable,  that  nothing 
less  than  our  eternal  ruin  can  satisfy  for  it  1  They  know, 
who  have  read  the  Turkish  history,  that  mere  scruple 
brought  that  necessity  upon  the  garrison  of  Sfetigrade  in 
Scanderbeg's  days,  that  rather  than  drink  of  water  which 
they  thought  polluted,  they  must  either  surrender  or  perish. 
If  another  possible  way  could  have  been  found  to  supply 
them,  was  it  fit  they  and  the  town  should  rather  be  lost, 
than  their  unreasonable  scruple  be  borne  with  1  Or  should 
they,  in  that  exigency,  be  stid  held  to  it,  to  drink  of  that 
very  water  or  none  1  We  think  we  have  greater  reason  to 
urge  for  our  scruples,  we  think  our  necessity  is  greater, 
the  case  more  important,  and  God  deliver  us  from  such 
pastors,  as  will  not  think  so  too,  and  value  souls  at  a 
higher  rate. 

Our  case  being  thus,  we  apply  ourselves  to  ministers, 
bound  by  their  calling  and  office  to  attend  the  affairs  of 
the  souls  of  men.  They  are  at  leisure,  have  nothing  else  to 
do;  they  may  not  live  idle  and  useless  in  the  world.  This 
is  their  proper  business.  Whatever  their  opinion  is  about 
the  things  we  scruple,  (and  we  believe  it  is  mostly  the  same 
■with  ours,)  we  see  not  how  they  can,  or  dare,  deny  us  the 
help  of  their  ministerial  labours:  we  thank  God  that  they 
dare  not.  And  should  they  daily  .spend  their  pains  upon 
us  to  urge  us  to  the  ceremonial  way,  as  we  believe  they 
would  do  it  very  heartles.sly ;  (wishing  things  to  be,  in  that 
respect,  otherwise  in  the  Christian  church,  as  well  as  we:) 
so  would  their  labour  in  that  kind  be  unprofitable,  and 
therefore  ungrateful  to  us.  Nor  do  we  think  it  needs  any 
sort  of  mortifiedness  in  them  (as  we  find  they  are  jeered 
under  that  notion)  not  to  send  us  away  unedified  and 
grieved  from  their  congregations  ;  so  much  as  a  mortified- 
ness in  their  love  of  souls,  and  their  sense  of  eternal  con- 
cernments; wherein  too  many  others  have  attained  to  a 
great  degree  of  mortification. 

But  now,  my  honoured  friend,  what  think  you  of  our 
cause  1  Let  us  seriously  consider  it,  not  according  to  the 
appearance  which  it  vvill  have  to  a  captious  sophistical 
wit,  but  as  you  will  apprehend  it  to  look  in  the  eyes  of 
our  supreme  and  final  Judge  ;  considering  also  the  same 
blessed  Jesus,  as  that  mighty  Redeemer  and  Lover  of 
souls,  who  once  suffered,  the  just  for  the  unjust,  to  bring 
them  to  God.  Bring  the  matter  before  him,  with  whom 
you  are  to  expect  no  tricks,  but  most  plain  and  equal  deal- 
ing. And  bethink  yourself,  whether  of  these  two  things 
he  will  be  more  likely  to  have  regard  unto, — the  saving  of 
souls,  which  he  bought  with  his  blood  ;  or  the  preserving 
inviolate  certain  human  institutions  and  rules,  confessed  by 
the  devisers  of  them  not  to  be  necessary  to  the  being  of 
the  church,  which  common  reason  sees  unnecessary  to  its 
well-being,  to  its  external  order  and  decency,  (evidently  as 
great  without  them,)  which  this  author  makes  foreign 
thereto,  when  he  tells  us,  that  matters  of  order  and  decency 
are  allowable  and  fitting,  but  ceremonies  properly  taken 
for  actions  significative,  and  therefore  appointed  because 
significative,  their  lawfulness  may  with  better  ground  be 
scrupled,  Iren.  page  G8.  and  which  experience  shows  to 
be  destructive ;  as  whereby  so  great  numbers,  not  only 
of  his  labourers,  are  to  be  discarded,  but  of  living,  flou- 
rishing plants  to  be  torn  up  by  the  roots,  and  all  thrown 
out  of  his  vineyard  together  1 

For  my  own  part,  I  must  profess  not  to  have  the  least 
doubt  concerning  the  thing  itself  which  Ave  and  our  minis- 
ters do,  and  practise ;  it  is  only  our  common  great  concern, 
to  be  very  careful  with  what  temper  of  .spirit,  and  with 
■what  design  we  do  it.  It  sliould  to  the  uttermost  be  en- 
deavoured to  be  done  with  all  meekness  and  humility, 


with  all  possible  reverence  to  authority,  abhorrence  of  the 
least  real  contempt,  and  unfeigned  regret  there  should  be 
any  appearance  of  it,  though  never  so  unavoidable ;  with 
a  design  only  to  glorify  God,  and  promote  the  common 
salvation  :  not  to  make  or  serve  a  party,  or  advance  any 
other  interest  than  that  of  mere  substantial  Christianity  and 
godliness.  Let  us  covet  this  temper  of  mind ;  and  where 
we  see  persons  of  real  worth,  and  of  a  true  latitude  and 
largenessof  spirit,  commensurate  to  the  Christian  interest, 
that  fall  in  with  the  public  constitution,  value  and  love 
them  nothing  the  less,  than  if  their  judgments  about  these 
lesser  things  were  never  so  exactly  squared  with  our  own, 
and  so  much  more,  by  how  much  they  may  excel  us  in 
far  greater  and  more  valuable  things.  And  if  it  be  our  lot 
to  suffer  under  the  notion  of  evil-doers  for  doing  what  we 
take  to  be  our  duty,  let  it  be  according  to  the  Doctor's 
wholesome  counsel,  with  an  unrepining  patience,  and  with 
much  thankfulness  both  to  God  and  our  rulers,  that  we 
have  enjoyed  so  much  tranquillity ;  and  with  that  cheer- 
fulness that  becomes  those  that  expect  a  blessed  eternity, 
and  to  be  translated  ere  long  into  a  pure  and  peaceful  re- 
gion, where  we  are  to  serve  God,  in  society  even  with 
many  of  them  who  have  been  offended  with  us,  without 
scruple  or  trouble  to  ourselves  or  them.  If  with  such  dis- 
positions and  aims  we  persist  in  our  course,  while  our 
case  is  attended  with  such  circumstances  as  now  it  is;  I 
have  no  fear,  I  sincerely  profess  to  you,  of  our  acceptance 
with  God,  and,  sooner  or  later,  with  all  good  men. 

Upon  the  whole  matter,  I  conceive  the  honest  cause  you 
were  so  deeply  concerned  for,  is  really  unharmed,  and  I 
hope  you  apprehend  it  too;  and  that  therefore  your  fear 
and  despondency  was  causeless,  as  if  it  could  not  outlive 
this  attempt  against  it  by  Dr.  St.  As  you  therefore  see 
how  capable  it  is  of  defence  against  him,  I  shall  not  forget 
the  other  part  of  my  undertaking  :  but  shall, 

Secondly,  Say  somewhat  (as  yours  sufficiently  lets  me 
see  there  is  cause)  in  his  just  defence  against  you.  And 
really,  Sir,  though  that  be  an  untoward  thing  to  dispute 
against,  I  find  it  needful  to  defend  him  only  against  your 
anger,  i.  e.  the  excess  of  it:  which,  although  it  can  no 
more  harm  him,  than  he  hath  done  the  cause,  and  con- 
sequently the  blunting  and  breaking  its  edge  (which  is  the 
thing  I  aim  at)  cannot  advantage  him,  yet  it  will  do  him 
right :  and  (which  was  the  thing  I  first  intended)  'twill 
be  an  advantage  and  kindness  to  you. 

I  must  here  indeed  tell  you,  that  I  cannot  blame  you  for 
being  in  some  measure  offended,  as  I  can  excuse  the  Doc- 
tor but  in  part.  I  do  dislike,  as  well  as  you,  two  things 
especially  in  his  way  of  managing  this  business;  viz.  his 
too  great  acrimon)',  and  too  little  seriousness. 

For  the  former,  it  is  too  evident,  and  I  heartily  pity  him 
for  it,  that  he  should  so  forget,  and  suffer  himself  to  be 
transported  beyond,  the  rules  of  Chris- ianity  and  prudence ; 
neither  of  which  would  allow  him,  (and  I  am  sure  within 
the  compass  of  the  former,  his  text  would  not,)  so  as  to 
make  himself  a  standard  to  all  other  men,  as  to  suppose 
no  man  can  be  honest  or  conscientious  that  is  not  of  his 
mind  in  the  matters  he  then  undertook  to  controvert,  or 
that  sliould  not  judge  of  the  connexions  of  things  as  he  did. 
I  cannot  think  it  hath  added  to  his  reputation  to  reflect  so 
grossly  before  such  an  assembly,  upon  a  whole  party  of 
men  that  are,  many  of  them,  well  known  in  the  world  ; 
and  who,  in  point  of  integrity,  are  so  little  liable  to  be 
suspected,  that  an  attempt  to  blemish  them  upon  so  slight 
a  pretence,  and,  in  matter  of  fact,  so  untrue,  could  not  but 
recoil  upon  him.self;  especially  with  them  that  shall  im- 
partially compare  their  inducements  to  prevaricate  with 
what  he  hath. 

And  for  the  other,  it  were  indeed  to  have  been  wished, 
that  upon  so  grave  and  solemn  an  occasion  he  had  forborne 
jests,  especially  of  that  nature;  as  for  instance,  such  mor- 
tified and  conscientious  men,  and  the  most  godly — can 
least  endure  to  be  told  of  their  fauhs,  &c.  AVhich  expres- 
sions, any  one  that  considers  his  scope,  will  understand  to 
be  ironical ;  and  that  considers  the  matter,  to  be  somewhat 
bold  ironies;  and  the  occasion,  to  be  cau.seless  ones.  In- 
asmuch as  it  is  not  impossible,  that  truly  mortified  and 
conscientious  men  may  desire  opportunities  to  do  God 
service  in  the  world,  in  a  way  that  he  dislikes.  And  it 
may  consist  with  real  godliness  not  to  count  all  those 


DR.  STILLINGFLEET"S  SERMON. 


177 


things  faults  which  he  'takes  to  he  siich.  And  indeed,  in 
his  dedication,  his  way  of  averting  the  report  of  lho.se  ill 
men,  that  he  intended  tostirupthe  magistrates  and  judges 
to  a  persecution  of  the  dissenters,  is  to  any  consi(tering 
man,  sportful  and  ludicrous  ;  viz.  ofiering  them  only  such 
a  way  of  escaping  persecution,  as  Avhereupon  a  man  may 
shun  suffering,  if  he  please,  from  any  parly  of  men  in  the 
world,  as  such,  by  being  in  every  thing  of  their  mind  and 
way  :  but  which  in  effect  grants  the  charge  which  he  would 
avoid,  that  if  we  will  not  be  so  united  to  his  party,  we  were 
to  expect  nothing  but  utmost  rigour.  One  would  rather 
have  thought  he  should  have  bedewed  that  discourse  with 
tears,  which  had  in  itself,  most  manifestly,  so  awful  and 
tremendous  a  design,  as  not  only  the  devoting  of  so  great 
Eumbers,  that  might  possibl)'  not  be  convinced  and  per- 
suaded by  him,  to  a  temporal  ruin  ;  but  the  depriving  them 
of  the  ordinary  means  of  their  salvation.  And  that,  if  he 
thought  it  necessary  for  the  preserving  of  order  in  the 
church,  they  should  be  so  dealt  with  ;  he  should  have  spo- 
ken of  their  case  with  the  greatest  compassion  and  ten- 
derness, not  with  dension  and  contempt. 

Yet  I  would  have  you  use  lenitives  with  yourself,  and 
calm  your  own  spirit ;  and  I  wish  you  were  capable  of 
contributing  any  thing  to  the  moderating  and  pacifying 
his  too.  That  though  he  have  been  angry  unprovoked, 
and  with  a  sort  of  men  that  have  ever  respected  and  ho- 
noured him,  as  if  he  had  been  of  themselves;  his  anger 
that  hath  been  without  cause,  (as  you  know  perhaps  who 
in  a  like  expression  blames  the  exorbitancy  of  another  pas- 
sion,) may  not  also  be  without  end.  At  least,  I  pray  you, 
take  heed  you  do  not  deserve  the  like  sharp  repartee, 
which  the  cynic  met  with  from  that  noble  philosopher, 
that  he  taxed  his  pride  with  greater  pride ;  that  you  exceed 
not  the  heats  whereof  you  complain.  If  he  will  still  retain 
his  fervour,  let  him  be  angry  alone;  and  his  displeasure 
have  its  continuance  with  as  little  influence  or  concom- 
itancy  of  yours,  (and  I  could  wish  of  any  other  man's,) 
as  (fur  aught  I  know)  it  had  its  beginning.  And  that 
since  he  thinks  of  being  a  sacrifice,  he  may  only  burn 
gently  in  his  own  flame,  which  he  may  moderate  as  he 
please,  and  I  hope  will  seasonably  extinguish,  before  he 
hath  suffered  much  harm  by  it. 

For  the  qualifying  of  your  own  too  great  resentment  and 
offence  ;  I  would  have  you  consider  how  great  reason  you 
have  to  believe,  that  this  blow  came  only  from  the  (some- 
what misgoverned)  hand  of  a  pious  and  good  man.  Be  it 
far  from  you  to  imagine  otherwise.  If  you  think  he  was  to 
blame  for  intimating  suspicions  of  their  sincerity  whom  he 
opposes,  make  not  yourself  equally  blameable,  by  admit- 
ting hereupon  any  concerning  his.  Which  would  argue  a 
mean  narrow  spirit,  and  a  most  unwarrantable  fondness  of 
a  party,  as  if  all  true  religion  and  godliness  were  bound 
up  in  it. 

And  if  it  look  unlovely  in  your  eyes  to  see  one  of  so 
much  avowed  latitude  and  enlargedness  of  mind,  and  ca- 
pable upon  that  account  of  being  the  more  universally  ser- 
viceable to  the  Christian  church,  forsaking  that  compre- 
hensive interest,  so  far  as  to  be  ingulfed  into  a  party  upon 
a  private  and  distinct  basiS;  consider  what  aspect  the  same 
thing  would  have  in  yourself  And  never  make  his  dif- 
ference with  you  in  this  matter,  a  reason  to  yourself  of  a 
hard  judgment  concerning  him;  who  can,  yoa  must  consi- 
der, differ  no  more  from  us,  than  we  do  from  him. 

Believe  him,  in  the  substance  of  what  he  said,  to  speak 
according  to  his  present  judgment.  Think  how  gradually 
and  insensibly  men's  judgments  alter,  and  are  formed  by 
their  converse ;  that  his  circumstances  have  made  it  neces- 
sary to  him  to  converse  most  for  a  long  time,  with  those 
who  are  fully  of  that  mind  which  he  here  discovers;  that 
his  own  real  worth  must  have  drawn  into  his  acquaint- 
ance the  best  and  most  valuable  of  them,  and  such  for  whom 
he  might  not  only  have  a  kindness,  but  a  reverence ;  and 
who  therefore  mu.st  have  the  more  power  and  influence 
upon  him,  to  conform  his  sentiments  to  their  own. 

We  ourselves  do  not  know,  had  we  been,  by  our  cir- 
cumstances, led  to  associate  and  converse  mostly  with 
men  of  another  judgment,  what  our  own  would  have  been. 
And  they  that  are  wont  to  discover  most  confidence  of 
themselves,  do  usually  but  discover  most  ignorance  of  the 
nature  of  man  ;  and  how  little  they  consider  the  power  of 


external  objects  and  inducements  to  draw  men's  minds 
this  way  or  that.  Nor,  indeed,  as  to  matters  of  this  nature, 
can  any  man  be  confident  that  the  grace  of  God  shall  cer- 
tainly incline  him  to  be  of  this  or  another  opinion  or  prac- 
tice in  these  matters  ;  because  we  find  those  thai  we  have 
no  reason  to  believe  have  greater  assistances  of  divine 
grace  are  divided  about  them,  and  go  not  all  one  wa}-. 

We  may  indeed  be  confident  that  had  the  same  consi- 
derations occurred  to  us  which  have,  we  should  have  been 
of  the  .same  mind  and  judgment  that  we  are.  But  it  is 
very  supposable  that  .some  accidental  occasions  might  pos- 
sibly have  happened,  that  might  hinder  our  actual  taking 
up  such  considerations,  though  the  things  to  be  considered 
were  not  unknown  to  us.  And  not  that  onh',  but  that 
might  prevent  our  knowing  even  matters  of  fact,  that  have 
signified  not  a  little  to  the  determining  our  judgments  that 
way  which  they  now  incline  to. 

And  I  do  particularly  beliex^e,  (as  I  doubt  not  but  God 
is  graciously  present  with  those  that  in  the  sincerity  of 
their  hearts  have  chosen  to  serve  him  in  the  way  which 
the  law  prescribes,  so,)  that  if  Dr.  St.  had  known  what 
proofs  there  are  of  that  same  gracious  presence,  in  these 
so  much  censured  meetings,  his  thoughts  would  have  been 
very  different  of  them  from  that  they  are.  I  do  not  speak 
of  proselj'ting  men  to  a  party,  which  I  heartil}-  despise  a.s 
a  mean  and  inconsiderable  thing:  but  have  known  some, 
and  heard  of  many,  instances  of  very  ignorant  and  profane 
persons  that  have  been  led,  perhaps  b}'  their  own  curiosity, 
or,  it  may  be.  by  the  persuasion  of  some  neighbour  or  friend, 
to  hear  and  see  what  was  done  in  such  meetings,  that  have 
(through  God's  ble-ssing  upon  so  despised  means)  become 
very  much  reformed  men,  and  (for  aught  that  could  be 
jud?ed)  serious  and  sincere  Christians.  And  whereas 
some,  that  have  very  prejudicial  thoughts  of  all  that  fre- 
quent such  meetings,  may  be  apt  to  suspect  all  effects  of 
that  kind,  to  be  nothing  else  but  illusions  of  fancy,  or  a 
disposition  (at  least)  to  enthusiasm,  or  an  artificial  and  in- 
dustrious hypocrisy;  I  am  very  confident  that  if  the  Doc- 
tor had  had  the  opportunity,  frequently  to  observe  and 
converse  with  such,  as  we  have  had,  and  heard  the  so- 
briety and  consistency  of  their  discourse,  and  seen  the 
unaffected  simplicity,  humility,  and  heavenliness  of  their 
conversation,  he  could  not  have  allowed  himself  the  liber- 
ty of  such  hard  censures,  but  would  have  judged  of  many 
such  persons  as  you  and  I  do. 

Upon  supposition  of  all  which,  I  make  little  question 
but  it  would  have  been  very  remote  from  him  to  wish  that 
so  many  persons  had  rather  lived  in  sin,  and  perished  for 
ever;  than  have  been  brought  to  repentance  and  a  good 
life,  by  being  now  and  then  at  a  separate  meeting. 

So  that  for  the  substance  of  what  he  hath  said  against 
such  meetings,  we  have  reason  to  impute  it  to  his  judg- 
ment; and  his  judgment  to  such  circumstances,  veri-mnch, 
as  I  have  mentioned,  that  have  led  him  the  way  he  hath 
taken  ;  and  not  given  him  opportunity  to  know  what  might 
have  begot  a  better  opinion  in  him  of  the  way  which  he 
opposes. 

But  for  the  manner  of  his  treating  this  subject,  that  I 
impute  to  the  prevalency  of  some  present  temptation  ;  and 
hope  he  did  not  express  in  that  sermon  his  habitual  tem- 
per. And  am  highly  confident,  notwithstanding  what  he 
hath  said  in  it ;  if  it  Avere  in  his  power,  we  might  even 
safely  trust  him  to  prescribe  us  terms,  and  should  receive 
no  hard  ones  from  him. 

Somewhat  it  is  likely  he  was  expected  (and  rnisfht  be 
urged)  to  say  to  this  business.  And  his  own  thoughts  be- 
ing set  a  work,  fermented  into  an  intemperate  heat,  Avhich, 
it  is  to  be  hoped,  will  in  time  evaporate. 

If  I  may  freely  speak  to  you  my  own  thoughts,  he  seems 
to  deal  in  this  business,  as  one  that  forced  himself  to  say 
someAvhat.  For  though  I  apprehend  he  speaks  his  judg 
ment,  yet  the  expressing  it  in  this  time  and  manner  he 
might  regret.  And  because  it  might  appear  a  becoming 
thing  to  him  to  seem  earnest,  the  Temptation  prevailed  with 
him,  against  his  habitual  inclination,)  to  supply  with 
sharpness  the  detect  of  reason  :  Avhich  the  poverty  of  the 
cause  afforded  not.  For  really  his  reasonings  are  faint, 
unconcluding,  and  unlike  Dr.  !5tillingflect.  So  that  if  any 
expected  this  performance  from  him,  one  may  think  (and 
this  ought  in  some  part  to  excuse  him)  that,  besides  some 


178 


A  LETTER  CONCERNING 


little  flourishes  of  his  reading  and  wit,  he  seems  only  to 
have  lent  them  his  name.  Which,  however,  I  pray  yoii, 
iCt  still  be  of  great  value  with  you.  And  turn  your  dis- 
pleasure into  serious  earnest  praying  for  him,  and  that  his 
spirit  may  not  be  further  harmed ;  that  amidst  his  many 
temptations,  he  may  be  delivered  and  preserved  from  being 
at  all  pulled  up,  or  any  way  imbittered ;  and  that  so  valu- 
able a  person  be  not  lost,  or  in  the  least  degree  rendered 
less  useful,  to  the  church  of  God.  And  that  all  that  know 
his  more  inward  conversation,  may  discern  in  his  frequent 
savoury  discourses,  in  his  continued  serious  calling  upon 
God  in  his  family,  in  his  readiness  to  do  good,  especially 
to  the  souls  of  men,  in  his  aptness  to  condescend  to  those 
that  are  much  beneath  him,  how  great  the  efficacy  is  of 
divine  grace.  And  that,  through  the  power  of  it,  a  great 
measure  of  wit,  learning,  applause,  and  secular  advanta- 
ges, may  not  only  consist  with  vivid  godliness,  and  sincere 
devotedness  to  the  interest  of  religion,  but  contribute  abun- 
dantly to  the  service  and  diffusion  thereof  in  the  world.  I 
am  very  serious  in  this  advice  to  you.  Nor,  thanks  be  to 
God,  have  so  low  or  profane  thoughts  of  prayer,  (which 
hath  ever  borne  so  great  a  part  in  the  religion  of  all  times, 
nations,  and  sorts  of  men,)  as  to  think  it  will  signify  no- 
thing, especially  when  the  design  of  it  is  not  mean  and 
private,  but  such  wherein  all  good  men  will  unite. 

I  little  doubt,  but  if  ever  there  shall  be  good  days,  and 
a  happy  state  of  things,  on  earth,  a  factious  zeal  for  parties 
will  become  a  contemptible  thing  :  and  all  the  discrimina- 
tive accretions  to  religion,  which  arc  severally  scandalous 
to  all  other  parties  except  their  own,  who  embrace  any 
sort  of  them,  (too  probably  for  the  sake  of  some  secular 
interest  or  other,  which  is  hoped  to  be  gratified  and  en- 
gaged thereby,)  will  be  spontaneously  quitted  and  aban- 
doned by  all  parties,  from  an  overpowering  sense  and 
grateful  relish  of  substantial  religion  itself;  i.  e.  entire  de- 
votedness to  God  and  the  Redeemer,  with  the  joyful  ex- 
Eectation  of  the  blessedness  of  the  other  world  :  and  so  all 
ecome  one. 
But  is  this  to  be  done  while  Ave  sleep  and  do  nothing? 
Or,  have  we  in  our  circumstances  any  thing  to  do,  by 
which  we  may  hope  to  contribute  so  much  towards  it, 
as  b}'^  prayer  1  By  this  means  (if  men  of  sincere  and  pious 
minds,  did  with  universal  and  abstracted  aims,  apply 
themselves  to  this  great  duty)  we  are  to  reckon  the  blessed 
spirit  of  holiness,  love,  and  peace,  would  be  more  and 
more  drawn  into  consent.  Do  you  your  own  part  herein ; 
you  will  find  your  own  present  advantage  by  it ;  it  will 
fill  you  with  good  thoughts,  hopes,  and  expectations.  The 
kindly  benign  influences  whereof,  wiil  pleasantly  qualify 
and  temper  your  spirit,  and  make  you  know  how  much 
more  grateful  an  inhabitant  that  charity  is,  which  think- 
eth  no  evil,  beareth  all  things,  believeth  all  things,  hopeth 
all  things,  endureth  all  things,  than  frowardness,  discon- 
tent, vexation,  and  anger,  at  any  one  that  thinks  and  speaks 
otherwise  than  you  did  expect  or  wish.  Insist  upon  such 
things  in  prayer,  as  wherein  it  may  reasonably  be  expected 
good  men  shall  generally  agree  with  you.  You  have  the 
more  reason  to  expect  being  heard ;  yea,  and  ought  to  hope 
the  spirit  of  this  person,  whom  ytm  have  taken  such  offence 
at,  will  be  rescued  out  of  temptation,  and  be  drawn  into 
full  consent  with  you.  For  you  have  no  cause  to  doubt, 
but  that  he  hath  those  principles  wrought  into  the  temper 
of  his  mind,  which  need  only  resuscitation,  that  they  may 
dispose  him  to  union  with  the  whole  body  of  sober  and  se- 
rious Christians  of  his  own  way,  or  of  others,  (whenso- 
ever that  can  be  seasonably  endeavoured  for,)  upon  more 
probable  and  hopeful  terms  than  he  halh  proposed  in  this 
sermon.  Therefore  be  you  serious  and  fervent  in  requests 
to  this  purpose,  as  you  have  that  love  to  God  and  his 
church,  which  you  profess  ;  and  that  value  for  this  worthy 
person,  which  I  reckon  you  still  ought  to  have:  or  (if  that 
can  be  fit  to  be  added)  any  kindness  for, 
Sir, 

Your  aflectionate  servant,  &c. 


SmcK  my  writing  these  pages,  I  hear  of  answers  to  the 
dean's  sermojv ;  which,  in  so  remote  a  corner,  I  have  had 
no  opportunity  to  see  :  what  is  here  written  may  therefore 


(upon  comparing)  be  communicated,  or  suppressed,  as 
shall  be  thought  fit. 

And  so  I  should  take  leave  of  you,  but  that  it  may  be 
needful,  whereas  I  have  principally  considered  in  these 
papers,  the  case  of  such  as  think  it  unlawful  to  join  in  the 
public  assemblies ;  to  add  somewhat  (whomsoever  it  may 
serve)  in  reference  to  their  case  that  think  otherwise.  For 
to  say  the  truth,  this  is  here  the  more  common  case.  And 
though  the  Doctor  believes  they  that  frequent  the  separate 
meetings,  do  generally  judge  it  unlawful  to  join  in  the 
public  ;  howsoever  it  is  with  you,  (and  it  is  likely  the  Doc- 
tor speaks  of  what  is  more  within  the  compass  of  his  own 
knowledge,  or  theirs  who  inform  him.)  it  is  with  us  in 
this  part  of  the  country  quite  contrary.  And  I  may  truly 
say,  that  in  this  place  (and  others  where  I  have  sometimes 
occasionally  been)  the  generality  of  them  who  come  to 
the  other  meetings  do  also  attend  the  public. 

Now  these  may  perhaps  think  themselves  left  under 
blame,  and  may  apprehend  the  Doctor's  consequence  is 
strong  against  them,  (that  if  occasional  communion  be 
lawful,  constant  communion  must  be  a  duty,)  which  he, 
no  doubt,  understands  exclusively  of  any  distinct  way  of 
communion.  - 

And  if  indeed  they  judge  that  consequence  strong,  I 
would  fain  know  what  hurt  they  can  think  it  doth  theral 
Why  should  any  man  be  afraid  of  his  duty  1  or  of  the 
truth  which  makes  it  known  1  And  if  hereupon  they  can, 
with  the  satisfaction  of  their  own  consciences,  waive  ill 
other  opportunities  of  worshipping  God  with  others  of  tis 
people,  they  have  the  less  to  do:  and  why  should  they 
complain  who  are  satisfied  1 

But  in  short,  either  they  apprehend  such  other  addi- 
tional means  a  real  necessary  help  and  advantage  to  them, 
or  they  do  not.  If  they  do  not,  they  have  no  cause  (o 
trouble  themselves,  nor  to  grudge  that  so  much  is  said  for 
others  ;  whose,  for  ought  I  know,  may,  as  the  Doctor  thinks, 
(for  I  cannot  make  an  estimate  from  this  or  that  little  spot,) 
be  the  much  more  common  case.  If  they  do,  they  have 
little  reason  to  be  concerned  about  the  Doctor's  conse- 
quence :  which  I  must  wonder  if  he  himself  can  think 
strong.  It  hath  not,  you  see,  been  altogether  overlooked 
in  the  foregoing  discourse  :  and  if  any  feel  themselves 
wounded  by  it,  he  is  so  great  an  Achilles,  that  they  may 
have  their  wound  and  healing  from  the  same  hands. 

For,  as  hath  been  noted  from  him  in  his  preface  to  the 
Irenicum,  he  seems  plainly  to  intimate,  that  men  have  no 
charter,  or  grant  of  divine  power,  to  make  other  conditions 
of  church  communion  than  Christ  hath  made.  If  so,  then 
the  conditions  by  which  ihis  way  of  communion  is  distin- 
guished from  the  other,  (supposing  they  be  lawful,)  are 
still,  in  themselves,  matter  of  liberty,  not  of  duty  :  and  so 
'tis  left  to  the  prudence  of  a  Christian  to  determine  him 
(as  in  all  like  cases)  this  way  or  that ;  as  will  make  most 
for  the  common  good,  consistently  with  that  of  his  own 
•soul.  That  is  sin  or  dutv,  which  in  this  or  that  case,  will 
do  more  hurt  or  good.  There  being  no  particular  rule  to 
guide  a  man's  practice,  he  must  have  recourse  to  that  ge- 
neral one  :  by  which  it  may  be  my  duty,  upon  some  great 
reason,  to  do  that,  at  one  time,  which,  for  as  great  reason, 
I  ought  not  to  do  in  a  continued  course.  And  it  is  highly 
commendable,  when  a  Christian  understands  the  latitude 
which  the  law  of  Christ  hath  left  him;  is,  in  his  own  spi- 
rit, exempt  from  servile  restraints,  by  other  imagined 
bonds;  andean  with  a  generous  liberty  (pure  from  base 
self-respects)  turn  himself  this  way  or  that,  as  shall  make 
most  for  the  service  of  the  ends  he  lives  for.  And  when 
any  accordingly  use  that  liberty,  'tis  a  fancy  of  none  but 
half-witted  persons,  to  think  they  must  therefore  addict 
themselves  to  this  or  that  party. 

If  a  man's  case  come  to  be  so  stated,  that  he  hath  rea- 
son to  apprehend  it  will  do  more  good  than  hurt  to  others, 
that  he  own  a  sort  of  Christians,  who  have  particularly 
modified  theiuselves,  otherwise  than  they  needed,  by  any 
divine  injunction,  (or  by  any  tliat  God  hath  empowered 
men  to  put  them  under,)  by  communicating  with  them 
under  the  common  notion  of  Christians,  only,  not  as  so 
modified :  he  doth  but  express  the  genuine  complexion  of 
a  truly  Christian  spirit.  But  he  is  not  to  do  so  in  a  conti- 
nued course,  if  he  find  it  will  be  a  real  damage  to  his  own 
soul,  in  comparison  of  another  way  that  he  finds  more 


DR.  STILLINGFLEET'S  SERMON. 


179 


edifying.  Perhap.s  if  he  will  be  religious  only,  after  the 
mode  of  this  or  that  party,  his  fare  may  be  either  too  fine 
or  too  coarse  for  his  constant  diet.  I  may,  besides  my 
own  inclination,  drink  a  single  glass  of  Avine  out  of  civility 
to  one  person,  or  of  water,  to  another,  when  I  am  not,  for 
any  man's  pleasure,  to  destroy  my  health  by  tying  myself 
to  drink  nothing  else.  And  whatever  Christian  conde- 
scendingness  and  goodness  of  temper  may  prompt  a  man 
to,  who  makes  not  what  others  do,  but  what  they  ought 
to  do,  his  rule  and  measure ;  they  have  least  reason  to 
expect  much  compliance  from  others,  who  bind  them- 
selves up  within  their  own  party,  are  enwrapped  as  levia- 
than in  his  scales,  call  themselves  the  church,  (as  many 
say,  Here  is  Christ  and  there  is  Christ,)  and  call  all  men 
separatists  that  will  not  be  of  their  chuich.  And  perhaps 
they  assume  and  appropriate  the  name  with  no  more  pre- 
tence or  colour,  and  with  no  better  sense,  than  if  a  hu- 
moursome  company  of  men  should  dislingiiish  themselves 
from  others,  by  wearing  a  blue  or  a  yellow  girdle,  and  call 
themselves  mankind !  Do  not  too  many  in  our  days  dis- 
tinguish their  church  and  Christian  communion,  by  things 
no  more  belonging  to  a  church,  or  to  Christianity,  than  a 
girdle  of  this  or  that  colour  to  human  nature'?  And  which 
no  more  qualify  for  Christian  society,  than  that  doth  for 
human  1  If,  however,  an  ingenuous,  free-spirited  man,  out 
of  respect  to  his  present  company,  or  for  any  other  va.u- 
abte  reason,  should  in  such  a  case  put  on  the  blue  girdle,  I 
shd.l  find  no  fault  with  him.  But  if  any  should  go  about 
to  pmch  him  too  close  with  it,  so  as  would  be  inconvenient 


to  his  ease  and  liealth,  or  oblige  him  to  protest  against  the 
true  humanity  of  all  that  neglect  it,  I  doubt  not  he  would 
throw  it  away  with  scorn.  Much  less  would  he  be  a  con- 
federate with  them  that  use  it,  if  they  professedly  combine 
for  the  destruction  of  the  rest  of  mankind  that  use  it  not, 
when  many  of  them  that  refuse  it  apprehend  it  a  real  griev- 
ance. Especially,  when  they  that  would  impose  it,  live 
with  many  of  the  rest  under  the  government  of  a  just  and 
sovereign  prince,  from  whom  they  have  no  charter  for  their 
imposition,  but  who  hath  declared  he  will  not  have  his 
subjects  so  imposed  upon. 

In  sum,  we  are  all  indispensably  obliged  by  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  the  sovereign  Prince  and  Rulerof  his  church, 
to  the  substance  of  all  Christian  ordinances.  As  to  unin- 
stituted  modes  thereof,  we  are  free.  And  they  that  under- 
stand their  liberty,  may  use  or  not  use  them  as  is  more  ft  r 
their  own  and  the  common  good.  They  that  understand 
it  not,  and  think  themselves  under  an  obligation  from 
Christ  not  to  admit  questionable,  devised  additions,  into 
their  worship ;  they  are  not  thei-efore  to  deprive  themselves 
of  the  substantial  ordinances  of  the  Christian  religion, 
whereof  there  is  no  question. 

I  shut  up  all  with  the  words  of  the  great  apostle,  Rom. 
xiv.  2,  3.  One  believeth  that  he  may  eat  all  things :  an- 
other, who  is  weak,  eateth  herbs.  Let  not  him  that  eatetb 
despise  him  that  eateth  not,  for  God  hath  received  him. 
Verse  13.  Let  us  not  therefore  judge  one  another  any 
more:  but  judge  this  rather,  that  no  man  put  a  stumbling- 
block,  or  an  occasion  to  fall,  in  his  brother's  way. 


SOME  CONSIDERATION 


PREFACE  TO  AN  INaUIRY  CONCERNING  THE 


OCCASIONAL  CONFORMITY  OF  DISSENTERS,  &c. 


I  HOPE  your  public  challenge,  Mr.  Prefacer,  (as  you  only 
allow  me  to  call  you,)  was  given  with  an  honest  intention. 
Yet  with  what  kindness,  or  equity,  you  could  make  your 
first  onset  in  the  view  of  the  world ;  by  hiding  your  own 
name,  and  exposing  mine,  designing  yourself  to  fight  in 
the  dark,  and  expecting  me  to  do  it  in  open  light,  I  leave 
to  your  own  (perhaps  calmer)  second  thoughts.  I  might 
hereupon,  as  I  promise  myself,  be  justified  in  the  opinion 
of  competent  and  impartial  judges,  if  I  had  disappointed 
you  in  not  writing;  but  I  am  apt  to  think  I  shall  disap- 
point you  more,  in  what  I  shall  write  upon  this  occasion. 
Yet  not  at  all  for  this  reason :  for  I  thank  God,  I  hold  no 
opinion  which  I  am  ashamed  to  own  to  the  world ;  but 
for  what  is  with  me  of  far  greater  weight.  I  have,  for  a 
long  time,  had  an  habitual  aversion  in  my  own  mind,  from 
perplexing  myself,  or  disturbing  others,  by  being  concern- 
ed in  agitating  the  controversies  that  have  been  on  foot, 
about  the  circumstantials  of  our  religion.  I  hope  it  will 
ofl'end  nobody,  if  I  recite  somewhat  of  what  I  wrote  al- 
most thirty  years  ago,  in  the  epistle  prefixed  to  a  treatise  of 
delighting  in  God,  viz.  thus; 

"  1  have  reflected  and  considered  with  some  satisfaction, 
that  this  hath  been  my  way,  and  the  temper  of  my  mind, 
among  you,"  viz.  to  recommend  the  serious  practice  of  the 
great  things  of  religion,  which  are  known,  and  least  liable 
to  question,  without  designing  to  engage  you  to,  or  against, 
any  party  of  them  that  differ  about  circumstantial  matters. 
Great  reason  I  have  to  repent,  that  I  have  not  with  greater 
earnestness  pressed  upon  you,  the  known  and  important 
things  wherein  serious  Christians  do  generally  agree;  but 
I  repent  not,  that  I  have  so  little  engaged  in  the  hot  con- 
tests of  our  age,  about  the  things  wherein  tliey  differ:  for 
as  I  pretend  to  little  light  in  these  things,  (whence  I  could 
not  have  much  confidence  to  fortify  me  unto  such  an  un- 
dertaking,) so  I  must  profess  have  liltie  inclination  to  con- 
tend about  matters  of  that  kind.  Nor  yet  am  I  indiffer- 
ent as  to  those  smaller  things,  that  I  cannot  discern  to  be 
in  their  own  nature  so.  But  though  I  cannot  avoid  to 
think  that  course  right,  which  I  have  deliberately  chosen 
therein,  I  do  yet  esteem  that  but  a  small  thin?,  upon 
which  to  ground  an  opinion  of  my  excelling  them  that 
think  otherwise,  as  if  I  knew  more  than  they.  For  I  have 
often  recounted  thus  seriously  with  myself,  that  of  every 
differing  party  (in  those  circumstantial  matters)  I  do  par- 
ticularly know  some  persons,  by  whom  I  find  myself 
much  excelled  in  far  greater  things  than  is  the  matter  of  that 
difference.  I  cannot  ('tis  true)  thereupon  say  and  think 
every  thing  that  they  do;  which  is  impossible,  since  they 
differ  from  one  another  as  well  as  me.  And  I  understand 
well,  there  are  other  measures  of  truth,  than  this  or  that 
excellent  person's  opinion.  But  I  thereupon  reckon,  I 
have  little  reason  to  be  conceited  of  any  advantage  I  have 

a  Tlio  inhal)itaiit9  of  Torringtoii,  ma^3frate<!  and  people,  to  whom  tliis  dia-  I 
couree  was  dcclicatcHl- 


of  such,  in  point  of  knowledge,  (even  as  little  as  he  should 
have,  that  can  sing,  or  play  well  on  a  lute,  of  him  that 
knows  how  to  command  armies,  or  govern  a  kingdom,) 
and  can  with  the  less  confidence  differ  from  them,  or  con- 
tend with  them.  Being  thereby,  though  I  cannot  find 
that  I  err  in  these  matters,  constrained  to  have  some  sus- 
picion lest  I  do;  and  to  admit  it  possible  enough,  that 
some  of  them  who  diflTer  from  me,  having  much  more 
light  in  great  matters,  may  have  so,  in  these  also.  Be- 
sides, that  I  most  seriously  think,  humility,  charity,  and 
patience  would  more  contribute  to  the  composing  of  these 
les.ser  differences,  or  to  the  good  estate  of  the  Christian 
interest  under  them,  than  the  most  fervent  disputes  and 
contestations.  I  have  upon  such  considerations  little  con- 
cerned myself,  in  contending  for  one  way,  or  another, 
whilst  I  was  among  you ;  or  in  censuring  such  as  have 
diflTered  from  me  in  such  notions  or  practices  as  might 
consist  with  our  common  great  end,  or  as  imported  not 
manifest  hostility  thereto.  Contenting  myself  to  follow  the 
course,  that  to  my  (preponderating)  judgment  seemed  best, 
without  stepping  out  of  my  way  to  justle  others." 

This  was  long  before,  and  hath  been  ever  since,  the  con- 
stant temper  of  my  mind,  in  reference  to  matters  of  this 
kind.  I  have  contented  myself  by  the  best  means  I  could 
be  furnished  with,  and  the  best  use  God  enabled  me  to 
make  of  them,  so  far  to  form  and  settle  my  judgment,  as 
was  absolutely  necessary  to  my  own  practice;  not  taking 
my  measures  from  what  I  was  to  hope  or  fear,  of  worldly 
advantage  or  disadvantage,  reputation  or  disreputation; 
but  in  what  way,  as  my  case  was  to  be  circumstanced,  I 
might  walk  most  agreeably  to  the  common  Christian  rule, 
the  holy  word  of  God,  and  best  serve  the  proper  ends  of 
life ;  do  most  good  in  the  world,  and,  as  my  calling  obliged 
me,  most  promote  the  common  salvation.  And  that 
judgment,  once  formed,  and  preponderating  to  the  way  I 
chose,  I  have  endeavoured  faithfully  to  follow.  Herein 
my  heart  reproaches  me  not,  and,  I  hope,  shall  not  as  long 
as  I  live. 

In  the  meantime,  I  have  abstained  from  censuring 
others,  who  have  taken  a  difierent  way.  I  have  rejoiced 
in  the  seriousness  and  success  of  any  such,  in  their  minis- 
terial work,  and  in  the  liberty  they  had  for  public  service, 
which  I  had  not.  I  usually  pray  for  a  blessing  upon  their 
labours,  as  upon  my  own.  My  converse  hath  been  as 
free,  and  pleasant,  with  divers  of  them,  as  with  others,  that 
were  entirely  agreed  with  me  in  circumstantial  matters. 
Nor  have  I  felt  any  inclination  in  my  mind,  to  controvert 
with  them  the  matters  of  difference  between  us,  but  have 
even,  in  our  converse,  forgot  what  we  differed,  having  no 
more  cause  to  suspect  hurt  from  them,  than  they  from  me. 
Where  is  the  man  that  can  say,  I  ever  persuaded  him  to 
conform,  or  not  to  conform  1 


CONSIDERATION  ON  A  PREFACE,  &c. 


181 


This  disinclination  wilh  me  to  controversies  of  any  such 
kind,  hath  proceeded  from  sundry  reasons.  My  judgment 
was  already  so  far  settled  in  the,>e  things,  as  was  necessary 
to  my  own  practice.  I  reckoned  an  unproportionable 
measure  of  the  short  time  we  liave  to  live  in  this  world, 
was  not  to  be  taken  up  about  them:  that  it  consisted  not 
with  a  man's  designed  progress  towaids  his  end,  to  be 
always,  or  too  long,  inquiring  about  his  way  :  that  disputes 
of  that  kind  have  little  savour  in  them,  compared  with  the 
great,  agreed  matters  of  our  faith  and  hope.  I  was  loth  to 
disquiet  others,  or  cast  stumbling-blocks  before  them,  who 
seemed  as  well  satisfied,  in  their  way,  as  I  was  in  mine. 
I  observed  such  altercations  seldom  better  men's  spirits, 
but  that  often  they  make  them  worse.  I  had  a  great  reve- 
rence for  divers  that  differed  from  me  in  these  things:  I 
knew  several  of  them  to  be  much  superior  to  me,  in  all 
sorts  of  more  valuable  knowledge ;  as  also  I  did  of  them 
that  therein  agreed  with  me.  Comparisons  I  thought 
odious  and  vain.  I  could  not  be  ol'  every  worthy  and 
good  man's  mind,  when  they  were  not  all  of  the  same 
mind.  I  had  enough,  I  thought,  to  satisfy  myself  in  refer- 
ence to  my  own  practice,  not  enough  to  change  theirs;  or 
enable  me  to  set  up  to  be  a  decider  of  such  controversies. 
It  was  remote  from  me  to  think  sincere  religion,  either  con- 
fined to  any  party,  distinguished  by  these  little  things,  or 
excluded  from  any.  That  the  kingdom  of  God  consisted 
not  in  them,  but  in  righteousness,  peace,  and  joy  in  the 
Holy  Ghost.  I  have  thought,  that  as  things  that  were  most 
necessary  were  most  plain ;  so  things  that  were  so  very 
little  plain  were  the  less  necessary.  Those  particles  of 
matter  must  have  very  little  of  real  entity  in  them,  that 
escape  theacies,  and  discerning,  of  the  finest  and  quickest 
eye.  I  have  hardly  known  any  point  in  metaphysics  or 
scholastic  divinity,  disputed  with  greater  niceness  and  sub- 
tlety, than  our  controversy  about  the  ceremonies;  and 
though  I  never  thought  myself  to  be  any  of  the  quickest  in 
the  art  of  disputing,  yet  I  think,  taking  which  side  I  will 
in  this  disputation,  I  could  easily  puzzle  the  most,  of  plain 
people,  and  that  are  but  of  an  ordinary  understanding,  about 
them;  much  more  easily  than  I  could  convince,  or  satisfy 
them,  (or  perhaps,  did  myself,)  the  one  way,  or  the  other. 
The  matter  were  indeed  easy,  if  (for  instance)  in  a  select 
gathered  church  (of  one  or  other  whereof  I  suppose  you 
are)  one  conscience,  or  a  few  men's,  would  serve  for  the 
whole  body ;  or  by  parity  of  cases,  of  a  whole  parish  or 
nation.  But  when  we  consider,  that  every  one  must  give 
an  account  of  himself  to  God;  and  that  in  matters  which 
concern  our  own  duty  Godward,  we  are  no  more  capable 
of  having  it  done  by  another  for  us,  than  (as  a  noted  per- 
son in  our  time  aptly  speaks)  of  being  represented  by 
another  in  the  day  of  judgment ;  this  will  bring  the  matter 
with  weight,  upon  our  spirits,  lest  we  should  be  found 
transgressors  in  Bethel,  and  to  have  offered  strange  fire,  in- 
stead of  a  sacrifice,  on  the  one  hand ;  or  needlessly,  on  the 
other  hand,  set  on  fire  the  temple  itself.  This  will,  in 
God's  time,  I  doubt  not,  be  considered  by  such  as  can 
make  the  occasion  cease,  of  such  difficulties.  In  the  mean 
time,  it  is  of  great  consolation  to  those  that  sincerely  fear 
God,  that  if  with  upright  minds  they  principally  study  to 
approve  themselves  to  him,  and  if  they  mistake,  do  only 
err  for  fear  of  erring ;  he  will  not  Math  severity  animad- 
vert upon  the  infirmity  of  a  weak  and  merely  misguided 
judgment. 

It  is  a  most  sure  truth,  and  worth  all  this  world,  that  to 
an  honest  unbiassed  heart,  'tis  a  far  easier  thing  to  please 
God,  than  men. — I  have  also  considered,  that  some  that 
can  contend  fervently,  and  conclude  positively,  concerning 
church  power,  where  it  is  lodged,  and  how  far  it  can  ex- 
tend, in  making  rules,  and  inflicting  censures,  discover  too 
often  more  confidence  than  knowledge  and  solid  judgment, 
in  those  very  things  themselves ;  but  much  oftener,  little 
of  the  Spirit  of  Christ  and  the  Gospel ;  little  of  that  meek- 
ness, humility,  charity,  that  are  most  essential,  and  inward 
to  true  Christianity;  and  are  too  apt  to  magnify  the  tithing 
of  mint,  annis  and  cummin,  above  faith,  mercy,  and  the 
love  of  God. — I  have  sometimes  thought  that  to  be  some- 
what instructive,  which  is  storied  of  Plato,i'  that  having  one 
in  his  academy  that  had  great  skill  in  driving  a  chariot, 
wilh  that  exactness,  as  not  to  swerve  one  jot  from  the 

b  5:1.  Var.  Hist. 

16 


lines  on  which  the  wheels  were,  verj'  swiftly  to  move ; 
nor  could  be  satisfied  till  he  had  prevailed  with  that  great 
man  to  be  the  spectator  of  his  performance  herein,  he  was 
so  far  from  applaud mg  him,  that  turning  away  with  con- 
tempt, he  said,  "they  that  mind,  -with  such  exactness, 
little  things,  will  never  mind  great." — I  detract  nothing 
from  the  exact  care  that  ought  to  be  had  in  observing  God's 
own  revelations  and  injunctions,  if  j^ou  understand  aright 
under  what  notion,  anil  for  what  ends,  he  intended  them. 
Nothing  is  to  be  thought  little  in  religion,  that  truly  be- 
longs to  it.  But,  Sir,  if  you  should  take  upon  you  to  de- 
vise rules  and  measures  of  your  own  and  then  put  a 
sacredness  upon  them ;  j'ea  more,  insist  to  have  them 
observed  with  greater  strictness,  and  for  more  distinguish- 
ing purposes,  than  ever  God  intended  divers  of  his  own 
revelations  for  ;  tliis  I  must  tell  you  were  bold,  and  extra- 
vagant. And  how  you  are  concerned  herein,  we  shall  see 
in  the  progress  of  this  discourse. 

To  come  somewhat  closer  to  you  therefore,  Mr.  Prefa- 
cer,  I  shall  first  consider  how  reasonably  and  justly  you 
offer  to  engage  me  in  this  quarrel ;  and  this  will  lead  me 
on  to  take  a  view  of  your  treatment  of  that  honorable  per- 
son, against  whom  your  quarrel  is  more  principally  meanf- 
As  to  your  endeavour  to  involve  me  in  this  affair,  1  iniik' 
before  you  had  offered  at  it,  you  should  have  been  well 
assured  of  these  two  things  ;  at  least  of  the  one  or  the  ol^vr 
of  them:  1.  That  I  really  did  concern  myself  to  advise, 
one  way  or  other,  as  to  the  lawfulness  or  unlawfulness  of 
that  occasional  conformity,  about  which  you  contend. 
2.  That  I  ought  to  have  done  so.  If  neither  of  these  can  be 
made  to  appear,  I  cannot  but  think  it  was  a  distemper  of 
mind,  an  immoderate  scripturiency,  or  what  shall  I  call  it  1 
too  great  an  affectation  of  intermeddling  beyond  any  call 
you  had,  that  could  lead  you  to  it.  And  whereas  you  think 
you  have  not  exceeded,  herein,  the  rules  of  charity  or  good 
manners ;  as  to  the  point  of  manners,  I  will  not  take  upon 
me  to  be  your  judge;  I  believe  you  guess  me  to  be  no 
master  of  ceremonies.  But  as  to  the  much  greater  busi- 
ness of  chanty,  I  must  tal'K  with  you  more  about  that  be- 
fore we  part.  For  it  is  a  matter  of  much  greater  compa.ss. 
And  in  your  measures  and  exercise  whereof  the  generality 
of  serious  Christians  are  concerned  as  well  as  I.  But  as 
concerning  myself,  can  }'0U  make  either  of  these  appear! 

1.  As  to  the  former,  I  am  sure  yon  cannot,  nor  any  man. 
Nor  ought  you  to  have  presumed  it,  unless  j'ou  had  been 
sure  of  the  2nd,  That  I  ought.  I,  for  my  part,  judged  I 
ought  not.  Whether  I  did  truly  judge  or  no,  that  leads 
into  the  main  cause,  that  will  lie  between  us,  wherein  I 
shall  be  no  less  cautious  tfian  you,  though  therein  I  shall 
not  so  far  compliment  you,  as  to  pretend  I  more  follow 
your  example  in  it,  than  my  own  inclination  ;  i.  e.  I  shall 
not  undertake  to  determine,  whether  the  action  (as  circum- 
stanced) of  that  honourable  personage  you  principally  re- 
flect upon,  were  lawful  or  unlawful.  This  I  meddle"  not 
with ;  and  you  pretend  to  decline  it  too ;  (either  j'ou,  or  the 
author  you  recommend  and  follow,  which  is  all  one  to  me ;) 
viz.  the  question,  whether  this  or  that  commiuiion  be  law- 
ful or  unlawful ;  but  are  so  little  true  to  that  pretence,  as 
to  judge  that  person  who  occasionally  partakes  in  the  le- 
gally established  church's  communion,  unfit,  ever  after,  to 
be  received,  otherwise  than  as  a  penitent,  to  any  other 
Christian  communion.  And  I  think  no  man  is  to  do  the 
part  of  a  penitent,  hut  for  what  was  unlawful,  or  a  fault. 

Now  I,  for  my  part,  shall  not  take  so  much  upon  me  as 
to  determine,  not  being  called,  if  I  were  never  so  compe- 
tent, whether  there  were  anything  faulty  in  that  action  or 
no.  But  in  this  I  am  neither  in  doubt,  nor  without  a  suffi- 
cient occasion  to  declare,  that  I  can  judge  it  no  such  fault 
(if  it  be  one)  as  should  exclude  one,  that  in  all  other  re- 
spects appears  a  serious  and  an  orderly  Christian,  from  any 
other  Christian  communion,  to  which  he  may  have  thought 
fit  to  adjoin  himself  And  that  I  may  se"t  in  view  the 
ground  for  my  not  judging  otherwise,  and  for  the  follow- 
ing discourse,  we  must  distinguish, 

I.  Of  the  obligation  of  precepts  negative,  and  affirma- 
tive, or  against  sins,  and  unto  duties,  r/~.  against  or  unto, 
such  things,  as,  bv  those  precepts,  become  sins  or  duties. 
And  of  these,  I  shall  speak  only  so  far,  as  concerns  our 
present  purpose,!,  e.  as  they  are" to  come  under  considera- 


183 


CONSIDERATION  ON  A  PREFACE. 


tion  in  foroecclesia,  or  in  a  visible  church  of  Christ.  And 
so,  there  are  sins  consistent  with  the  Christian  state.  And 
vhere  are  sins  inconsistent  with  it ;  or  destructive  of  it. 
Duties  that  are  matter  of  simple  pTecept,  and  duties  that 
are  also  conditions  of  Christian  communion.  We  are 
also  to  distinguish  the  obligation  of  negative  and  affirm- 
ative precepts,  as  'tis  usual  and  common,  viz.  that  the  for- 
mer bind  (unless  the  precept  were  repealed)  semper,  et  ad 
semper,  always,  and  to  every  point  of  time.  The  latter, 
always,  while  the  precept  stands  in  force,  but  not  to  every 
point  of  time.  Of  this  we  shall  make  the  proper  use,  in  the 
lit  place. 

2.  Of  the  different  notions  under  which,  or  causes  for 
which,  men  of  different  sentiments  or  persuasions  may 
decline  the  communion  of  this  or  that  church  :  viz.  Some 
may  decline  the  communion  of  this  or  that  church,  as 
judging  it  essentially  defective  ;  so  as  not  to  have  in  it  the 
essentials  of  a  Christian  church.  (Whether  that  judgment 
be  right  or  wrong,  true  or  false,  is  not  now  the  question  ; 
or  under  our  present  consideration.)  Others  may  decline 
it,  as  judging  it  defective  in  respect  of  some  accidentals, 
or  circumstances;  either  simply  considered,  or  compared 
with  some  other  Christian  church,  that  they  may  appre- 
hend to  come  nearer  the  Christian  rule ;  and  wherein  the 
administration  of  Christ's  ordinances  may  be  more  profit- 
able, and  tend  more  to  their  advantage  and  benefit,  in  their 
spiritual  concernments. 

These  distinctions  we  shall  consider  severally,  both  by 
way  of  explication  and  application  to  the  present  case. 

1.  For  the  former,  when  we  speak  of  sins  consistent  or 
inconsistent  with  the  Christian  state;  of  duties  that  are 
merely  such ;  or  that  also  are  required  as  necessary  to 
Christian  communion;  we  intend  the  distinction  as  refer- 
ring to  visible  Christianity.  And  mean,  that  as  there  are 
sins  inconsistent  with  visible  Christianity :  avowed  atheism, 
open  idolatry,  infidelity,  apostacy,  total,  or  in  respect  of 
some  or  other  known  fundamental  or  Christian  religion  ; 
contumacious  and  continuing  rebellion  against  the  autho- 
rity and  known  laws  of  Christ;  which,  without  visibly 
serious  repentance  and  reformation,  slur  and  deface  a 
man's  character,  as  a  visible  Christian  :  so  there  may  be 
faults  that  do  it  not ;  which  may  yet  come  under  common 
notice,  or  view.  I  only  instance  in  what  is  more  agreeable 
to  our  present  case,  as  misjudging  in  some  circumstantial 
matters,  and  very  disputable,  that  are  extra-essential  to  the 
substance  of  Christianity ;  and  practising  according  to 
that  erring  and  mistaken  judgment ;  even  though  the  mis- 
take be  continued,  never  discerned,  and  never  repented  of 
or  reformed  as  long  as  one  lives. 

Such  were  the  differences  in  judgment  and  practice  about 
meats  and  days,  Rom.  xiv.  2,  &c.  wherein  there  could  not 
but  be  right  and  wrong.  Both  sides  could  not  be  in  the 
right,  i.  e.  referring  their  practice  to  their  judgment.  The 
question  being,  whether  such  and  such  things  were  lawful 
or  unlawful,  and  that  the  one  side  judged  them  lawful, 
the  other,  unlawful.  The  one  side  must  be  in  the  wrong. 
The  things  about  which  they  differed,  could  not  be  both 
lawful  and  unlawful.  It  must  be  sin  to  judge  and  do 
amiss ;  duty,  to  judge  aright,  and  practice  accordingly. 
And  what  was  now  to  be  done  in  this  easel  Were  they 
to  excommunicate,  and  curse,  and  damn  one  another! 
Some  that  presided  in  the  Christian  church  did,  'tis  true, 
in  process  of  time,  come  to  use  an  unchristian  severity  in 
such  cases.  As  when  some  tied  themselves  to  the  eating 
of  herbs  only,  and  abstained  from  flesh  (whether  they  de- 
rived their  opinion  from  the  school  of  Pythagoras,  or  how- 
ever they  came  by  it,  matters  not.)  And  it  was  determined 
concerning  them,  (I  could  show  where  and  when  were  it 
needful,)  that  if  they  would  use  abstinence,  upon  other 
considerations,  they  might;  but  if  upon  a  judgment,  or 
opinion,  that  the  eating  of  flesh  was  unlawful,  they  should 
be  excommunicated.  And  this  was  thought  a  sufficient 
reason  for  that  hard  censure,  because  they  denied  Christ 
to  have  given  that  liberty,  as  tomcats,  which  he  had  really 
given.  But  was  this  according  to  the  mind  of  God  1  No, 
quite  contrary ;  we  see  it  otherwise  determined  by  apos- 
tolical authority.  Him  that  is  weak  in  the  faith,  receive 
ye,  but  not  to  doubtful  disputations,  Rom.  xiv.  1.  The  case 
follows.  The  charge  is,  Receive  them,  take  them  into 
yx>ur  communion,  and  dispute  not  his  doubting  judgment 


with  him,  or  pass  you  no  judgment  upon  it,  so  as  to  vex 
or  disquiet  him  with  iL  Let  him  alone  with  his  judg- 
ment and  practice  together ;  but  receive  him.  And  the 
forementioned  rigour,  we  find  to  have  been  corrected  in 
after-time. 

And  the  like  charges  are  elsewhere  given  in  reference 
to  the  differences  between  the  Jewish  and  the  Gentile 
Christians,  the  circumcised  and  the  uncircumcised  ;  i.  e. 
that  in  the  Christian  state,  no  distinction  was  to  be  made 
of  Jews  or  Greeks,  circumcision  or  uncircumcision,  them 
that  used  or  disused  the  Jewish  rites  and  ceremonies ;  but 
all  were  to  be  esteemed  as  one  in  Christ  Jesus,  or  Christ 
to  be  all  in  all  among  them.  Gal.  iii.  28.  Col.  iii.  11.  i.  e. 
God  makes  no  difference,  supposing  they  be  good  men, 
sincere  Christians,  or  become  new  creatures ;  he  stands 
neither  upon  their  being  circumcised,  or  uncircumcised, 
Gal.  vi.  15.  Retaining  or  quitting  the  subsequent  judaical 
observances ;  so  tenderly,  and  by  so  gentle  a  hand,  did  the 
Divine  wisdom  and  goodness  draw  off  the  judaizing  Chris- 
tians from  those  things,  whereof  he  designed  the  total 
abolition ;  whereof  they  had  more  pretence  to  be  tenacious, 
being  things  enjoined  by  God  himself.  Therefore  God 
treats  them  with  more  indulgence.  And  what  example 
should  we  rather  choose  to  follow  1  especially,  what  indul- 
gence doth  the  case  itself  challenge,  in  not  pressing,  under 
penalty,  what  there  can  be  no  pretence  of  divine  authority 
for  1  And  we  find  this  is  the  measure  according  to  which 
we  are  to  go,  in  receiving  persons  into  our  communion. 
We  are  to  receive  such  as  we  have  reason  to  think  God 
receives ;  in  the  forecited,  Rom.  xiv.  3.  Do  not  judge, 
but  receive  him,  for  God  hath  received  him. 

There  are  therefore  two  plain  rules,  laid  down  by  that 
great  apostle,  in  reference  to  such  dubious  and  small  mat- 
ters ;  viz.  one  concerning  such  scrupulous  persons  them- 
selves, that  they  be  fully  persuaded  in  their  own  minds, 
(ver.  5.)  and  do  nothing  against  the  judgment  of  their  own 
consciences,  in  those  matters ;  which  he  enforces,  verse 
23.  The  other  concerning  the  carriage  of  fellow  Chris- 
tians tovva-i-ds  them,  that  they  judge  them  not,  but  receive 
them,  verse  1,  2,  3 — 10.  Whereupon  Mr.  Prefacer,  I  con- 
ceive myself  clear  in  not  judging.  And  you  will  be  clear 
in  judging,  if  not  only  you  are  an  abler  judge,  (which  I 
will  never  dispute  with  you,)  but  also,  that  you  were 
called  to  judge ;  and  that  your  judgment  is  most  assuredly 
true.  If  God  have  authorized  you,  and  revealed  to  you,  not 
only  what  was  right  or  wrong,  in  the  case  itself,  but  the 
secrets  of  his  heart,  whom  you  judge  ;  and  that  he  prac- 
tised what  he  thought  to  be  wrong :  i.  e.  that  he  is  a  hypo- 
crite, and  that  he  hath,  against  his  conscience,  yielded  to 
do  that  for  (an  unprofitable)  preferment,  probably  to  his 
great  loss,  (as  some  have  found  it,)  which  he  himself 
thought  unlawful ;  if  you  know  him  to  be  of  so  vam  and 
light  a  mind,  that  not  for  any  real  advantage,  but  for  a  little 
temporary,  evanid  honour  and  gayety,he  hath  offered  this 
violence  to  the  judgment  of  his  own  conscience  ;  if  God 
revealed  this  to  you,  and  charged  you  to  proclaim  it  to  the 
world ;  then  hath  he  indeed  set  you  over  him,  and  far  above 
him  ;  placed  you  in  a  much  higher  seat  of  judicature,  than 
that  wherein  he  is  seated  ;  dignified  you  with  an  authority 
superior  to  what  he  ever  conferred  upon  any  apostle,  or  on 
the  whole  Christian  church,  or  on  any,  besides  his  own  Son. 

But  if  there  be  nothing  of  all  this;  then,  though  your 
judgment  should  happen  to  be  true,  yet  if  it  were  without 
any  ground,  upon  which  you  could  know  it  to  be  true; 
and  so  it  were  only  right  by  chance :  if  it  were  without 
call ;  if  you  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  matter ;  if  it  come 
among  the  exempted  cases  reserved  by  the  great  God  to 
his  o%vn  tribunal,  and  which  he  hath  subjected  to  no 
ecclesiastical  nor  human  cognizance;  being,  as  to  the 
matter  itself,  very  minute,  not  so  much  as  a  doubtful  ac- 
tion; but  the  circumstance  of  an  action,  and  that  touches 
not  any  vital  of  religion  ;  as  to  the  lawfulness  of  that  cir- 
cumstance, disputable ;  a  ceremony ;  one  of  them,  that  were 
not  less  disputed,  by  men  of  excellent  wisdom,  and  piety 
on  both  sides,  than  the  Jewish  ones,  in  the  time  when  they 
were  matter  of  controversy  to  the  Christian  church :  and 
after  all  that  di.sputation,  determinable,  for  aught  I  know, 
chiefly,  by  the  majus  or  minus  btmum  ecclesia ;  as  in  the 
time  when  that  Jewish  rite  of  circumcision  was  the  occa- 
sion of  so  much  disquiet  to  the  primitive  Christians,  St. 


RELATING  TO  OCCASIONAL  CONFORMITY. 


183 


Paul  circumcised  Timothy,  for  the  greater  service  of  the 
Christian  interest;  and  being,  as  to  the  inward  intention, 
motive,  and  inducement,  secret,  and  liable  only  to  the 
Divine  view;  then,  I  say,  upon  all  this,  even  siipposmg 
the  thing  you  censure  were  faulty,  yet  it  is  no  such  fault 
as  can  slur  the  character  of  a  man,  otherwise  appearing  a 
serious  Christian.  If  the  contrary  were  duty,  'tis  no  such 
duty  as  is  necessary  to  entitle  a  man  to  any  Christian  com- 
munion. Yea,  and  I  add,  your  censuring  it,  as  you  do,  is 
a  thousand-fold  (even  unconceivably)  more  faulty.  And 
if  you  could  truly  say,  as  Diogenes  did,  trampling  upon 
Plato's  rich  bed,  calco  Platonisfastum,  I  tread  upon  Plato'' s 
pride,  it  might  more  justly  be  replied,  as  the  latter  did 
reply,  sed  majori  fastu,  bid  you  do  it  ivith  greater  pride. 
You  take  upon  you  to  invade  the  throne  of  the  Most  High ; 
and  may  take  that  as  said  to  you,  Who  art  thou  that  judg- 
est  another's  servant  T  Why  dost  thou  judge  thy  brother"? 
We  must  all  stand  before  the  judgment-seat  of  Christ, 
Rom.  xiv.  4 — 10.  And  I  wonder  you  did  not  dread  those 
awful  words,  of  that  very  Judge,  Matt.  vii.  1.  Judge  not 
that  ye  be  not  judged.  And  shall  more  wonder,  if  yet 
you  perceive  not,  when  you  thought  a  mote  was  in  ano- 
ther's eye,  that  there  was  a  beam  in  your  own,  as  verse  3. 
A  thing  that  among  heathens  ■=  has  been  animadverted  on 
with  just  severity.  Nor  shall  I  recharge  you  in  the  fol- 
lowing words,  Thou  hypocrite,  (for  I  know  not  your  heart 
in  this  matter,)  but  I  would  have  5'ou  re-consider,  with 
how  little  warrant  you  have  broadly  charged  that  worthy 
person  your  quarrel  is  about,  with  hypocrisy ;  that  he  acted 
against  his  own  conscience,  because  he  acted  not  accord- 
ing to  yours:  as  if  yours  were  to  be  the  standard,  and  the 
conscience-general  to  mankind  !  But  that  you  may  appre- 
hend it  not  impossible  for  a  man  to  follow  the  dictate  of 
conscience,  and  perhaps  as  good  a  one  as  yours,  though 
he  do  not  follow  yours;  I  shall  yet  have  recourse  to  a 
second  distinction,  before  laid  down,  viz.  between  the  dif- 
ferent notions  under  which,  or  causes  for  which,  men  of 
different  sentiments  may  decline  the  communion  of  this, 
or  that  church,  viz.  some,  as  thinking  it  essentially  defec- 
tive— others,  as  judging  it  defective  in  some  circumstances 
only. — Now,  Sir,  if  any  man  decline  the  communion  of 
what  is  (however)  vulgarly  called  a  church,  as  counting 
it  really  no  church  at  all,  his  withdrawing  or  abstaining 
from  its  communion,  must  be  total  and  constant,  he  can 
have  no  communion  with  it  as  a  Christian  church  at  all. 
But  if  one  avoid  more  ordinary  communication  with  a 
church,  as  judging  it,  though  not  essentially  defective,  yet 
to  want  or  err  in  some  circumstances  so  considerable,  as 
that  he  counts  another  church  comes  nearer  the  common 
Christian  rule,  the  Holy  Scriptures  ;  and  finds  its  admin- 
istrations more  conducing  to  his  spiritual  advantage;  he 
may  be  led,  by  the  judgment  of  his  conscience ;  both, 
sometimes,  upon  weighty  and  important  reasons,  to  com- 
municate with  the  former,  and  continue  therein,  accord- 
ing as  those  reasons  shall  continue  urgent  upon  him  ;  and 
yet,  sometimes,  as  the  cessant  or  diminished  weight  of 
such  reeisons  shall  allow,  to  communicate  with  the  other. 
They  that  will  not  admit  of  this  distinction,  thus  gene- 
rally proposed,  as  a  ground  of  such  different  practice  in 
the  general,  as  is  here  expressed  ;  hut  judge  not  only  es- 
sential perfection,  but  a  perfection  by  the  concurrence  of 
all  desirable  accidents,  to  be  necessary  also  unto  Christian 
communion,  can  have  no  communion  with  a^y  Christian 
church  on  earth  ;  for  where  is  any  to  be  found  every  way 
perfect  1  'Tis  true,  that  accidental  defects  may  be  more 
or  less,  and  it  requires  great  accuracy  to  apply  what  is 
here  generally  said  to  particular  cases;  nor  shall  that  be 
my  present  business ;  I  have  somewhat  else  of  greater  im- 
portance to  do.  All  that  I  concern  myself  for,  is  only  to 
have  it  considered,  that  a  man  of  conscience  may,  upon 
the  grounds  generally  mentioned,  vary  his  communion  as 
hath  been  said,  while  he  keeps  himself  within  the  limits 
of  a  Christian  church,  essentially  true,  and  that  hath  no 
additions  destructive  of  that  essence.  And  if  he  mistake 
in  making  application  hereof  to  a  particular  case,  it  proves 
him  not  to  be  a  man  of  a  profligate  conscience,  or  of  none 
at  all.   He  may  have  arguments  so  specious,  that,  suppos- 

c  Cum  tua  pemdeas  ociili.<i  mala  lippus  inunctis, 
Cur  in  araicorum  vitiis  tain  cernis  acutuni. 


ing  he  err,  may  impose  upon  the  judgment,  and  thereby 
direct  the  practice  of  a  very  intelligent,  discerning,  and 
upright-hearted  man :  so  as  to  make  him  think  that  which 
is  perhaps  an  error,  his  present  duty;  and  so  not  ofier  vio- 
lence to  his  conscience,  in  what  he  so  doth.  As,  judging 
such  a  church  true,  as  to  essentials,  he  may  think  (occa- 
sion inviting)  he  hath  greater  reason,  though  it  be  defec- 
tive in  accidents,  to  communicate  with  it  sometimes,  than 
to  shun  its  communion  always;  since  those  Christians 
that  agree  in  all  the  essentials  of  Christianity,  agree  in 
far  greater  things  than  it  is  po.ssible  for  them  to  disagree 
in.  He  must  have  mean  and  misshapen  thoughts  of 
Christian  religion,  that  thinks  not  the  great  doctrines  of 
faith,  ordinances  of  worship,  and  rules  of  daily  practice 
(common  to  us  all)  unspeakably  more  valuable,  than  this 
or  that  external  mode,  or  form,  of  religion,  that  is  but  ac- 
cidentally, and  mutably,  adherent  thereto.  And  what  if 
some  have  thought  that  alone  a  sufficient  reason  for  their 
occasional  communion  with  a  church,  with  which  they 
have  not  constant  communion,  that  they  ma}'  do  it  and 
themselves  that  right  before  the  world,  as  to  testify,  they 
decline  it  not  as  no  church ;  but  so  far  practically,  own  it, 
as  the  reason  of  the  thing  requires:  why  may  they  not  be 
supposed  to  do  this,  as  thinking  it  a  good  reason,  whether 
it  be  really  so  or  no,  without  going  against  conscience 
herein  ?  And  yet  the  same  person  may,  perhaps,  think  the 
communion  of  another  church  preferable,  and,  for  ordi- 
nary resort,  rather  to  be  chosen,  as  wherein  he  finds  the 
same  essence,  with  more  regular,  grateful,  and  advanta- 
geous modes  and  ways  of  administration. 

And  if  hereupon  it  should  be  said.  But  since.  Sir,  you 
think  it  not  unlawful  to  communicate  with  such  a  church 
sometimes,  why  should  you  not,  for  common  order's  sake, 
do  it  always  1 

May  he  not  reply,  Pardon  me  in  that,  good  Sir,  if  I 
think  I  owe  more  to  what  I  take  for  Christ's  rule,  and  to 
the  discernible  advantage  of  my  own  soul ;  judging,  in 
these  respects,  that  communion  to  be  best,  which  I  more 
constantly  adhere  to.  I  say,  why  may  not  an  honest  well- 
meaning  man  reason  thus;  and  do  accordingly,  (whether 
his  sentiments  herein  be  right  or  wrong,)  without  gainsay- 
ing his  own  conscience  1  And  the  rather,  for  that  the 
church  itself,  with  which  he  more  ordinarily  communi- 
cates not,  (as  comprehended  in  the  states  of  the  realm,)  so 
far  gives  him  the  liberty  of  his  choice,  a^;  to  reckon  his 
doing  herein  what  is  more  for  his  satisfaction,  and  advan- 
tage, no  punishable  thing.  Why  may  he  not  conscienti- 
ously say,  Let  me  be  excused,  if  I  do  not  compliment  away 
things  that  are,  to  me,  of  so  great  importance  ;  and  which 
they  to  whom  I  give  it,  cannot  but  count  a  profane  sort  of 
compliment  ? 

duestion.  But  should  not  the  latitude  of  a  Christian 
carry  him  to  fix  his  communion  with  the  larger  and  more 
extensive  church  1 

Answer.  What !  Should  the  latitude  of  a  Christian 
bind  him  to  one  sort  of  Christians,  with  exclusion  of  all 
other  ■?  Never  was  that  noble  principle  of  true  Christian 
latitude  more  perverted,  or  turned  even  against  itself,  than 
if  it  be  used  to  train  men  into  a  religious  bigotry  !  As  if 
the  apostle's  professing  to  be  all  things  to  all  men,  to  the 
Jews  as  a  Jew,  &c.  must  signify,  that  he  take  one  side,  and 
engage  with  the  Jews,  against  the  Gentiles !  They  that 
refuse  confinement  to  the  largest  church  may  avoid  it,  not 
because  they  should,  otherwise,  express  too  much  latitude, 
but  too  little. 

Some  may  here,  perhaps,  say,  "  What  one  judges  best, 
ought  to  be  chosen  alwa^-s."  And  indeed  nothing  is  more 
easy,  or  ordinary,  than  for  them  that  have  little  compass 
of  thought,  to  pronounce  hastily,  and  conclude  peremp- 
torily, even  bevond  seven  men  that  can  render  a  reason. 
How  would  such  a  one  stare,  if  one  should  oppose  a  down- 
right negative  to  his  confident  assertion  !  and  say.  What 
is  best,  in  matter  of  practice,  is  not  to  be  chosen  and  done 
always  7  'Tis  not  enough  to  justify  such  a  choice,  and 
practice,  that  it  be  in  itself,  or  simply  best ;  but  that  it  be 
best,  in  present  circumstances,  and  all  things  considered, 
that  ought  to  be  considered,  in  the  present  juncture. 

Quam  aquila,  aut  serpens  Epidaurius? — Hor. 
(And  many  others  of  them  abound  with  like  passaees.) 


184 


CONSIDERATIONS  ON  A  PREFACE. 


Let  here  another  distinction  be  remembered,  before  laid 
down.  Negative  precepts  oblige  to  every  point  of  time. 
Affirmative  do  not  so.  He  that  is  always  under  obliga- 
tion to  pray  solemnlv,  is  not  obliged  to  be  always  solemnly 
at  prayer.  The  worship  of  God  is  better  than  most  actions 
of  our  lives  ;  yet  the  saving  of  a  town  or  house  from  fire, 
yea,  the  plucking  of  a  sheep  or  an  ox  out  of  a  ditch,  is 
sometimes  to  be  preferred.  The  most  sacred  external 
act  of  duty  becomes  a  sin,  when  it  excludes  that  which  is 
more  a  duty  at  that  time.  How  fatal,  how  totally  destruc- 
tive an  error  might  it  have  proved,  before,  to  the  Jewish 
nation,  always  to  have  thought  it  unlawful  to  defend  them- 
selves on  the  sabbath-day !  d  How  long  was  sacramental 
obsignation  in  the  wilderness  omitted  1  How  much  more 
may  attending  upon  such  an  institution,  in,  what  some 
may  think,  a  more  eligible  manner  ;  if  there  be  a  reason 
that  outweighs;  Avhen,  not  the  substance  of  the  ordinance 
is  wanting,  but  what  is  counted  (perhaps  by  you)  a  fitter 
modus  I 

To  be  plain  with  you,  Mr.  Prefacer,  suppose  yon  judge 
kneeling  at  the  Lord's  table  a  sin,  (as  cautious  as  you 
are,  not  to  seem  to  take  this,  or  that  side,  in  these  contro- 
versies, wherein  you,  however,  unwarily  betrayed  your- 
self, as  hath  been  noted ;  yet  my  supposing  it  doth  you  no 
hurt,)  and  suppose  you  judge  another  gesture  a  duty ;  sup- 
pose you  judge  concurrence  in  the  use  of  the  liturgy  a  sin, 
and  the  unprescribed  way  (by  human  authority)  a  duty ; 
yet  who  hath  empowered  you  to  make  such  sins  (if  they 
were  such)  exclusive  from  Christian  communion  1  or  such 
duties,  conditions  of  it  1  Sometime,  surely,  it  will  be  un- 
derstood how  bold  an  adventure  it  is,  to  make  terms  of 
Christian  communion,  which  Christ  hath  never  made. 
There  are  sins  and  duties,  immediately  by  God's  law  itself, 
that  he  never  intended  to  be  so  charaeteristical,  viz.  of  the 
unfit  or  fit  subjects  of  Christian  communion.  For  what ! 
hath  God  forbidden  any  to  be  admitted  to  Christian  com- 
munion, but  such  as  are  perfect  in  knowledge  and  holi- 
ness 1  How  bold  a  self-assuming  then  is  it  in  you,  not  only 
to  make  sins  and  duties  which  God  hath  never  made  so; 
but  also  to  make  them  distinguishing  terms  of  Christian 
communion  !  which  is  far  higher,  and  the  more  insolent 
usurpation  I  You  know,  or  it  is  meet  for  you  so  fo  judge, 
that  many  pious  men  dare  not  partake  of  the  L(  rd's  sup- 
per, otherwise  than  kneeling.  And  I  have  been  sufficiently 
assured  concerning  divers  of  eminent  sanctity,  that  they 
have  been  as  greatly  affected,  and  had  as  high  elevations 
of  soul,  in  the  use  of  the  common  prayer,  as  others  in  any 
other  way  of  devotion. 

Now,  Mr.  Prefacer,  ought  another  man's  gust  to  have 
been  the  measure  of  theirs  1  would  you  have  these  men 
excluded  from  all  Christian  worship,  viz.  in  society  with 
Christian  worshippers  1  To  say,  Let  them  worship  God 
with  those  of  their  own  way,  isto  say  you  know  not  what. 
For  if  (as  by  your  rule  it  seems  to  be  determined)  the 
things  are  unlawful  and  exclusive  from  all  Christian  com- 
munion in  worship,  there  ought  to  be  none  of  any  such 
way,  that  they  can  worship  with.  And  now,  Sir,  if  that 
be  your  conscience,  that  supposing  there  be  never  so  many 
thousands  in  a  Christian  nation  that  cannot  worship  God 
in  your  way,  you  would  have  them  paganized,  made  as 
heathens  and  publicans,  Gk)d  bless  me  from  your  con- 
science !  And  shall  this  be  your  way  of  recommending 
yourself  to  Christian  communion  1  Wheresoever  such  a 
spirit  appears  of  zeal  against  such  and  such  external  forms ; 
(or  if  it  be  for  them,  'tis  all  one  to  me  ;)  of  pride  and  self- 
esteem,  for  so  contemptibly  little  things ;  of  malice  and 
cruelty,  that  they  could  persecute  even  to  the  death,  if  it 
were  in  their  power,  or  into  strange  countries,  such  as 
differ  from  them  in  things  of  no  greater  moment :  I  would 
sooner  be  of  a  fellowship  with  drunkards,  or  other  sensua- 
lists, (though  I  hope  God  will  keep  me  from  both,)  than 
wath  them ;  as  much,  as  I  count  a  devil  somewhat  a  worse 
thing  than  a  brute.  Nor  can  it  be  said,  that  herein  Satan 
is  transformed  into  an  angel  of  light ;  his  transformation 
is,  at  least,  in  this,  very  inartificial.  He  apparently 
enough  show.s  himself  to  belong  to  the  darkest  region. 
And  whereas  some  such  may  talk  of  offering  strange  fire, 
because  it  comes  not  from  their  altar ;  their  fire  is  as  much 

d  As  it  was  once  said  to  have  been,  Plutarch  de  SiipCTst. 


stranger  than  Nadab's  and  Abihu's,  as  common  tmconse- 
crated  fire  differs  from  infernal. 

You  will  say.  These  human  forms,  and  other  devices 
they  are  so  much  set  upon,  are  sins.  Sins  !  but  I  ask,  Do 
they  unchristian  a  man  1  They  will  be  much  more  over- 
magnified,  by  so  fervent  opposition,  than  by  serious  use. 
But  what  would  I  do  in  such  a  case  1  would  I  not  reject 
a  man  from  the  Lord's  table,  how  serious  soever,  that 
would  not  communicate  otherwise  than  kneeling  1  No, 
God  forbid  !  Let  him  use  his  own  freedom,  and  be  fully 
persuaded  in  his  own  mind  ;  he  shall  not  offend  me.  And 
though  there  was  a  time  when  Christians  were  forbidden 
kneeling  at  all  on  the  Lord's  day ;  I  had  rather  that  human 
institution  were  neglected,  than  any  good  man  debarred 
of  so  useful  an  ordinance.  I  should  never  quarrel  with 
any  man  for  that  gesture  itself.  But  I  should  like  no  one's 
choice  of  it  the  better,  that  should  pretend  to  choose  it  for  a 
moral  reason.  For  instance,  as  expressive  of  greater  re- 
verence; because  a  moral  reason  must  immediately  bind 
conscience ;  and  is  of  universal  extent,  must  equally  con- 
cern all ;  whence,  this  would  imply  an  accusation  of  all 
other  Christian  churches  that  use  not  this  gesture,  as  ir- 
reverent, or  less  reverent  than  they  ought  to  be.  Nor  can 
there  be  any  other  measure  of  debitum,  or  of  that  which 
ought  to  be,  but  some  law  or  other ;  nor  can  there  be  any 
law  of  universal  obligation,  but  by  a  universal  law-giver. 
This  would  therefore  insinuate  an  accusation  of  our  Lord 
himself  of  neglect,  in  not  making  such  a  law,  and  in  al- 
lowing a  different  gesture  to  his  disciples,  when  he  first 
appointed  that  ordinance.  For  though  their  gesture  was 
not  sitting,  it  is  more  probable  to  have  been  such,  as  was 
used  in  those  times  and  countries  for  their  ordinary  table 
gesture.  And  this  other  I  should  use,  being  in  commu- 
nion with  those  that  use  it,  rather  not  to  offend  them,  than 
please  the  master  of  the  house,  or  to  satisfy  my  own  con- 
science, as  if  it  were  in  itself  a  sin  not  to  use  it.  But  for 
them  that  use  it  on  that  account,  i.  e.  of  conscience  towards 
God  ;  I  should,  according  to  the  mentioned  rule,  not  judge, 
but  receive  them. 

And  whereas  some  may  think  it  would  introduce  con- 
fusion into  the  church,  that  all  should  not  he  confined  tc 
one  gesture  in  such  an  act  of  worship,  it  would  be  a  worse 
confusion  to  have  serious  Christians,  because  their  con- 
science obliges  them  to  kneel,  when  others  do  not,  mingled 
with  Turks  and  infidels.  Nor  is  that  oneness  of  gesture 
more  necessary  to  any  order  that  is  itself  necessary,  than 
that  all  that  partake  together  in  such  an  ordinance,  be  ol 
one  stature,  size,  or  sex  ;  or  wear  all  garments  of  the  same 
shape  or  colour.  I  hope  for  a  time,  when  Christianity 
will  be  the  religion  of  the  world.  While  it  is  cramped  it 
will  never  grow.  I  hope  it  not  to  prevail  in  the  world,  by 
having  all  the  world,  in  every  minute  thing,  reduced  to  the 
modefof  this  or  that  parly.  How  absurdly  arrogant  would 
he  be,  that  .should  pray  that  all  the  world  might  be  of  one 
mind,  by  being  all  brought  to  be,  in  every  nice  punctilio, 
of  his  mind.  When  Lsee  partition-walls  taken  down, 
truly  catholic  Christianity  coming  into  repute,  a  readiness 
and  promptness  of  mind,  to  be  all  things  to  all  men  in  the 
apostle's  true  meaning;  when  the  great  things  of  religion 
do  more  engage  men's  minds,  and  they  cease  to  magnify 
trifles  ;  when  as  to  faults,  (real  or  supposed,)  men  no  lon- 
ger strain  at  gnats  and  swallow  camels;  when  the  love  of 
God  comes  to  govern  the  Christian  church,  and  reign  in 
the  hearts  of  men  ;  then  will  the  kingdom  of  God  come 
with  power.  For  I  am  sure  the  spirit  of  love  is  the  spirit 
of  poMer,  and  of  a  sound  mind.  In  the  meantime,  I  de- 
clare myself  (as  I  have  often)  to  be  of  no  party,  self-dis- 
tinguished by  so  little  things.  Nor,  when  the  visible 
church  of  Christ  on  earth  comes  to  be  confessedly  com- 
posed (as  of  old)  only  of  three  sorts,  catechumens,  peni- 
tents, and  the  fideles,  with  their  infants,  can  it  be  any 
great  or  insuperable  difficulty,  whom  we  are  to  receive 
into  our  communions,  and  whom  we  are  to  exclude. 

And  thus,  Mr.  Prefacer,  I  have  said  all  I  intend,  as  to 
the  main  of  your  cause,  i.  e.  Whether  they  that  shall  not 
be  of  your  mind,  when  such  a  case  occurs  to  them,  as  that 
about  which  you  litigate,  and  shall  practise  otherwise,  (i. «. 
shall  not  please  you,)  should  therefore,  except  they  repent» 


\ 


RELATING  TO  OCCASIONAL  CONFORMITY, 


im 


be  excluded  all  other  Christian  communion  ?  I  shall  say 
no  more  to  it,  except  what  may  occasionally  fall  in,  upon 
my  giving  some  short  remarks  as  to  the  manner  of  your 
treating  such  worthy  persons,  whose  judgment  and  prac- 
tice agree  not  with  yours.  Herein,  because  I  never  in- 
tended to  answer  your  book,  (thinking  what  I  have  said 
makes  that  needless,)  I  shall  only  note  some  passages  from 
it,  here  and  there. 

And  I  begin  with  the  title-page.  Where,  I  pray  you 
inquire  of  your  own  heart,  what  you  meant  by  that  sug- 
gestion "  in  cases  of  preferment  1"  Was  it  not  to  insinuate, 
that  preferment  was  the  inducement  to  that  worthy  per- 
son, to  act  against  his  own  conscience  in  that  case "?  when 
it  was  his  known  judgment,  testified  by  his  practice  seve- 
ral years  before.  Herein  you  should  have  been  sure.  You 
meddled  with  a  two-edged  weapon,  wherewith  you  vainly 
aimed  to  wound  him,  (for  a  sincere  conscience  is  invnlne- 
rable,)  but  have  most  certainly  wounded  yourself.  You 
may  in  time  feel  the  wound;  'tis  worse  while  you  don't. 
If  he  can  sincerely  appeal  to  the  Searcher  of  hearts,  (as  for 
ought  you  know,  he  can,)  Lord,  thou  knowest  this  man 
hath  wronged  me:  I  would  not  have  such  an  appeal  Ij'ing 
in  heaven  against  me  for  all  the  world !  How  can  you  tell 
but  that  such  a  thing  was  designed,  and  done  with  a  sin- 
cere aim  and  intention  of  mind  1  Among  heathens  it  hath 
not  been  unknown,  that  some  having  honorary  coronets 
conferred  upon  them,  consecrated  them  to  their  gods.«  Is 
It  impossible  somewhat  like  it  should  be  done  by  a  Chris- 
tian to  the  true  and  living  God  1  Are  you  so  much  a 
stranger  to  a  devoted  life,  as  not  to  think  this  possible  1  You 
have  wronged  him,  when,  without  ground,  you  judged 
otherwise :  but  you  wronged  the  great  God  infinitely  more, 
whose  throne  you  presumed  to  usurp.  And  you  should 
have  been  able,  before  you  concluded  with  so  rash  con- 
fidence, to  prove  the  act  in  its  circumstance  unlawful.  If 
it  were  lawful,  go  among  them  }'ou  thought  to  gratify, 
and  inquire  who  of  them  will  think  a  consequent  prefer- 
ment could  make  it  unlawful  ?  Therefore  your  insinua- 
tions, except  wherein  it  is  spiieful  and  mischievous,  is  idle 
and  vain. 

Again,  your  subjoined  text  oi"  Scripture,  "  If  the  Lord 
be  God,  follow  him  ;  but  if  Baal" — for  what  purpose  was 
it  set  there  ■?  What!  to  signify,  that  the  God  of  the  dis- 
senters, and  of  the  established  church,  differ  as  the  living 
God  and  Baall  Did  you  take  this  for  a  piece  of  wit !  'twas 
uncharitable.  Uncharitable!  that's  a  trifle  in  comparison; 
'twas  profane  and  most  impious  wit;  yet  you  are  mighty 
fond  of  the  conceit,  and  we  have  it  over  and  over  in  the 
book,  that  the  conformists  and  dissenters  serve  two  Gods 
(as  the  one  of  them  is  miscalled)  and  have  two  religious! 
The  Lord  that  hath  chosen  Jerusalem,  and  as  truly  the 
congregations  of  England,  to  place  his  name  in  tliem,  (and 
whom,  as  invocated  in  many,  and  for  ought  appears  you 
intend  in  most  of  them,  you  blaspheme  as  a  senseless 
idol,)  rebuke,  and  forgive  you ! 

This  may  occasion  some  idle  people  to  cry  out,  "  What ! 
at  church  in  the  forenoon,  and  at  a  meeting-house  in  the 
afternoon  !  This  is  fine !  and  what  will  now  become  of 
our  religion  7"  And  what  is,  already,  become  of  his  reli- 
gion who  so  exclaims  1  Do  the  religion  of  the  church  and 
of  the  meeting-house  make  two  religions  1  Wherein  do 
they  differ  1  The  substance  of  the  same  religion  is  common 
to  them  both.  Therefore  the  modes  and  accidents,  wherein 
onl)''  they  differ,  are  this  man's  religion.  And  can  any  man 
be  the  better  for  such  a  religion,  that  consists  of  modes 
and  accidents  1  'Tis  true,  that  religion  may  possibly  be  so 
ludicrously  disguised  and  misrepresented,  as  scarce  to  be 
fitly  owned  for  any  religion  at  all.  But  this  cannot  be  said 
of  most  (if  of  any)  of  the  congregations  of  England,  of 
either  sort.  And  they  that  have  any  thing  of  charity,  or 
the  fear  of  God,  about  them,  will  be  very  wary  how,  for  a 
misplaced  word,  or  indecent  action,  or  expression,  they 
censure  one  or  another  of  these  two  sorts  of  solemn  wor- 
shipping a.ssemblies,  as  having  nothing  of  God,  or  true 
religion,  among  them. 

Thirty-nine  articles  are  given  us  for  the  summary  of  our 
religion,  and  of  what  is  thought  to  appertain  to  it.  Thirty- 
six  contain  the  substance  of  it,  wherein  we  agree :  three, 
the  additional  appendices,  about  which  we  have  some 
e  Athen.  Deipnos.  cum  Animadvere.  Is.  Caaaub. 


difference.  With  such  a  man,  the  three  weigh  more  than 
all  the  thirty-six.  And  if  his  eyes  and  understanding  were 
useable  things  with  him,  he  would  see  the  chuich  is  a 
meeting-house,  and  the  meeting-hou.se  a  church.  How 
remote  are  these  men  from  the  temper  of  spirit  they  were 
directed  to  be  of,  that  had  far  greater  diflierences  among 
them  than  ours,  to  count  themselves  all  one  in  Christ 
Jesus !  But  throughout  the  book,  such  as  are  of  this  Chris- 
tian latitude  and  bcnisrnity  of  mind  towards  one  another, 
and  not  so  stingily  bigoted  to  a  party,  as  he,  are  treated 
with  this  sort  of  charity,  to  be  styled  painted  hypocrites; 
such  as  play  bo-peep  with  God  Almighty;  that,  if  such 
an  occasion  offer  it.self  to  any  of  them  to  serve  God  and 
their  country,  in  a  public  station,  do  what  the  law  requires, 
and  which  they  think  they  maj'  sinlessly  do  in  order  to  it, 
do  trespass  upon  their  consciences,  and  danm  their  own 
souls  to  serve  their  country.  And  they  that  censure  them 
not,  as  he  doth,  are  induced  to  forbear  it,  only  by  their 
gold  ring,  or  fine  apparel. 

And  that  he  would  have  all  such  as  use  that  liberty, 
which  their  consciences  and  the  divine  law,  as  they  think, 
allow  them,  in  order  to  their  serving  God  and  their  coun- 
try, to  be  disfranchised,  and  made  incapable  of  doing 
public  service  to  either,  i.  e.  for  doing  that,  which  as  wise 
men  as  he  count  indifferent ;  and  which  can  therefore 
make  no  one  either  a  better  or  worse  man,  or  Christian. 
And  would  draw  that  odium  upon  the  established  church, 
to  represent  it  as  if  it  sought  to  engross  all  power  to  itself^ 
as  such,  even  in  civil  affairs,  upon  so  insignificant  a  pre- 
tence! than  which  he  could  not  attempt  doing  it  a  greater 
mischief,  or  more  directly  tending  to  make  it  intolerable 
to  the  prince,  nobility,  gentry,  and  to  the  whole  body  of 
the  nation  itself.  No  such  arts  need  to  be  used  to  expose 
the  clergy  to  the  ill-will  of  the  people,  and  raise  in  nobler 
minds  what  some  may  count  a  just  and  generous  disdain 
of  being  so  enslaved.  The  nature  of  man,  in  his  lapsed 
state,  is  so  alienated  from  God,  as  to  have  little  regard  for 
an}'  sacredness  of  persons  and  things,  by  which  only  they 
become  related  to  him. 

The  church  of  Rome  hath  not  gained  JHUch  upon  kinss 
and  princes,  of  later  years,  by  affecting  to  make  them  de- 
pendent on  her.  And  it  is  not  difficult  to  pre-apprehei.*, 
what  may  at  length  engage  them  against  her,  to  her  final 
ruin :  i.  e.  to  make  them  hate  her,  eat  her  flesh,  and  bum 
her  with  fire.  In  that  church,  this  caprice  first  began  in 
their  dnmin'mvi  tempo  rale,  in  gratia  fvndalum  ;  and  thence 
by  a  strangely  wide  sort  of  stride  or  skip,  even  of  a  hea- 
venly width,  from  pole  to  pole,  'twas  got  quite  among  an- 
other sort  of  men,  treading  antipodes  to  the  former,  m  the 
immodest,  rude  claim,  and  appropriation  to  themselves,  of 
the  entire  privilege  and  prerogative  of  the  saints'  reign. 
'Tis  the  easiest  thing  in  the  world,  when  any  sort  or  party 
of  men  have  got  power  into  their  hands,  to  saint  them- 
selves, and  unsaint  all  other  men,  at  their  own  pleasure. 
But  do  the  civil  rights  of  men  depend  upon  such  (?'.  e. 
so  easily  abusable)  pretences  ?  We  are  saying  nothing  now 
of  their  rights,  claimable  from  God  himself,  but  from  one 
another ;  and  even  such  rights  none  could  have,  i.  e.  that 
are  claimable  from  their  fellow-creatures,  or  their  (con- 
cives)  felluw-members,  under  any  government,  but  by 
some  original  grant,  one  way  or  other  conveyed  from  the 
Supreme  Ruler,  who  is  the  fountain  of  all  rights. 

But  hath  he  ever  given  Christians,  (or  saints,)  as  such,  a 
right  to  seize  the  rights  and  properties  of  other  menl  The 
notion  of  the  saints'  reign,  because  we  find  it  in  the  Holy 
Bible,  is  not  to  be  torn  out,  but  must  have  its  true  sense 
assigned  it.  And  if  there  be  a  time  yet  to  come,  wherein 
it  shall  have  plfce;  it  must  mean,  that  a  more  general 
pouring  forth  of  the  Spirit  shall  introduce  a  supervening 
sanctity  upon  rulers,  as  well  as  others;  not  to  give  every 
man  a  right  to  rule,  (for  who  should  then  be  ruled  T)  but 
to  enable  and  incluie  them  that  shall  duly  have  a  right,  to 
rule  better.  And  so  the  kingdom  will  be  the  saints,  when 
it  is  administered,  by  some,  and  for  others,  who  are  so.  If 
God  have  allowed  to  men,  as  men,  any  rights,  i.  e.  that  are 
claimable  against  other  men  ;  and  should  again  give  a  right 
to  Christians  in  other  men's  properties;  to  what  a  strait 
and  distress  were  the  rest  of  the  world  reduced  !  Might 
not  any  of  them  say,  Since  one  must  be  a  man  before  he 


186 


CONSIDERATION  ON  A  PREFACE,  &c. 


can  be  a  Christian,  what  am  I  to  do  in  this  case  1  must  I 
umnan  myself,  and  lose  the  rights  I  have,  as  such,  that  I 
may  recover  them  by  being  a  Christian  1  I  had  them  as  a 
man  before,  sufficiently  to  secure  me  against  the  claim  of 
all  others.  What!  but  not  against  Christians'?  Then  are 
they  an  unmanned  sort  of  men  !  And  whereas  obligations 
accompany  rights,  what  lawless  men  are  these  Christians ! 
But  whereas  God  hath  in  great  compassion  to  the  world 
appointed  it  to  be  Christianized,  he  hath  with  equal  wis- 
dom chosen  the  fittest  methods  for  it ;  i.  e.  not  to  commis- 
sion Christians  to  divest  other  men  of  their  all,  unless  they 
become  Christians ;  but  to  let  men  see,  Christianity  had 
no  design  to  disturb  the  world,  or  disquiet  them  in  their 
former  possessions,  though  they  should  not  be  Christians ; 
but  that  they  might  enjoy  them  with  higher  advantage,  if 
they  be,  in  order  to  another  world.  If  God  had  made 
Christianity  the  measure  of  civil  rights  to  mankind,  his 
sovereignty  were  not  to  be  disputed  ;  but  he  never  exerts 
acts  of  sovereignty,  but  by  the  direction  of  his  wisdom. 
Wheresoever  the  sound  of  the  Christian  name  comes,  if  it 
carried  that  avowed  principle  with  it,  that  Christians,  as 
such,  had  a  right  to  out  all  other  men  of  their  birth-rights ; 
instead  of  becoming  the  religion  of  the  world,  nothing 
could  more  directly  tend  to  engage  and  inflame  all  the 
world  against  it,  and  make  them  endeavour  its  utter  extir- 

Eation,  as  a  thing  intolerable  to  mankind.  Nor  could  they 
ave  any  so  plausible  pretence  against  it  besides ;  having 
nothing  in  itself,  but  what  must  render  it  most  amiable 
and  self-recommending.  Did  the  Spaniards'  methods  for 
Christianizing  America,  recommend  the  Christian  faith  to 
that  miserable  people  1  And  if  God  himself  would  never 
give  such  a  power,  for  introducing  the  very  substance  of 
Christian  religion  itself;  how  intolerable  must  it  be  for 
any  sort  or  church  of  Christians,  to  claim  and  use  it  for 
the  inti'oduction  of  their  own  additions  to  Christianity,  as 
the  church  of  Rome  hath  notoriously  long  done  !  And 
lime  will  show  the  event,  as  common  reason  doth  the  ten- 
dency of  it. 

And,  Sir,  though  the  strain  of  your  discourse  shows  your 
no  great  kindness  to  this  established  church,  the  compli- 
ments which  here  and  there  you  besiow  upon  it,  too 
broadly  show,  as  if,  under  a  colour  of  kindness,  you  would 
tempt  it,  to  aim  at  loading  itself  with  such  a  weight  of 
power  and  greatness  as,  you  may  think,  must  finally  sink 
it.  Its  more  real  friends,  our  civil  rulers,  are  more  wisely 
kind  to  it,  and  give  it  no  more  interest  in  the  civil  govern- 
ment, than  it  may  more  safely  bear.  They  never  exact 
jn  order  to  any  one's  having  a  share  therein,  a  total,  con- 
stant conformity  to  all  its  rites,  as  you  would  have  them. 
And  have  only  designed  by  the  limits  they  have  set,  the 
excluding  that  sort  of  men,  whose  known  principles  make 
them  more  incapable  of  human  society,  than  mere  pagans. 
But  especially,  'lis  not  to  be  let  pass,  that  you,  or  your 
author,  industriously  represent  the  primitive  English  puri- 
tans, (concerning  whom  it  were  in  some  respects  well  for 
you,  if,  as  the  great  author  you  mention  speaks,  your 
soul  were  with  theirs,)  as  if  they  were  generally  of  your 
stingy  narrow  spirit.  I  wonder  how  you  could  think  to  im- 
pose upon  the  world  in  a  matter  of  so  recent  memory.    This 


attempt  had  been  more  prudently  deferred  till  three  or 
four  ages  hence  ;  especially  if  great  care  had  been  taken, 
in  the  meantime,  that  all  books  were  burnt,  or  buried, 
that  give  any  account  of  them.  How  notorious  is  it,  that 
generally  they  that  continued  in  their  native  land,  as  far 
the  greater  number  did,  looked  not  upon  the  church  of 
England  as  no  church !  That  they  wished  her  more  re- 
formed ;  but  in  great  part  kept  in  her  communion,  (their 
principal  leaders  and  the  people,)  taking  other  opportimi- 
ties  of  spiritual  improvement,  as  they  could ;  for  which 
they  often  ran  great  hazards.  In  62,  the  same  spirit  and 
sentiment  afresh  appeared;  when  most  of  the  considerable 
ejected  London  ministers  met,  and  agreed  to  hold  occa- 
sional communion  with  the  (now)  re-established  church: 
not  quitting  their  own  ministry,  or  declining  the  exercise 
of  it,  as  they  could  have  opportunity.  And  as  far  as  I  could 
by  inquiry  learn,  I  can  little  doubt  this  to  have  been  the 
judgment  of  their  fellow-sufferers  through  the  nation,  in 
great  part,  ever  since.  How  could  you  have  the  confi- 
dence to  represent  this  as  a  new  thing;  and  an  apostacy 
from  primitive  puritanism!  that  hath  so  much  in  it  of  the 
spirit  of  primitive  Christianity  ;  such  largeness  of  mind  ! 
such  reverence  of  what  bears  a  divine  stamp  and  signa- 
ture upon  it,  undefaced  !  such  benignity,  even  towards 
them  by  whom  they  suffered  !  How  strangely  inverted. 
Sir,  do  things  lie  in  your  mind !  must  we  accordingly 
transpose  the  names  of  virtue  and  vice  1  And  by  how 
much  more  illustrious  any  render  themselves  by  the  emi- 
nent virtues  of  pride,  fury,  self-conceit,  censoriousness,  to 
the  damning  of  every  body,  that  in  all  things  do  not  think, 
and  do,  as  they !  Are  these  things  with  you  characters  of 
the  most  excellent  sorts  of  Christians  '? 

If  I  had  seen  any  thing  in  your  book  that  needed,  or 
deserved,  a  particular  answer,  I  should  not  have  balked 
it.  But  seeing  nothing  that  looks  like  reasoning,  but 
what  is  so  idly  sophistical,  that  any  one  of  common  sense 
can  see  through  it ;  such  as  that,  "  How  can  a  man  dissent 
and  conform  at  the  same  time  V  when  all  the  world 
knows,  or  may,  conformity  consists  of  numerous  parts; 
and  is  it  such  a  miracle  for  a  man  to  conform,  in  some 
part,  and  not  in  every  part?  conscientiously  to  scruple 
constant  entire  conformity,  and  not  scruple  some  part  of 
it,  at  some  time  1  If  any  think  such  talk  needs  further 
answering,  let  them  seek  it  elsewhere.  And  for  your  re- 
plying, I  shall  not  prescribe  to  you ;  only  I  can  as.sure 
you,  that  thereby,  neither  you,  nor  any  man  else,  shall 
divert  me  from  my  much  more  important,  pleasant  work ; 
unless  I  see  somewhat  that  shall  make  it  worth  my  while. 
The  person  you  criminate,  may  yet,  notwithstanding  what 
you  have  said,  be  in  the  right  for  ought  I  see.  And  there- 
fore, to  any  such  whose  case  this  is,  or  may  be,  I  can 
only  say,  that  their  rule  having  been  consulted  with  seri- 
ous diligence,  as  I  hope  it  hath ;  and  their  end  a  secret 
between  God  and  them,  which,  if  it  be  sincere,  is  enough 
for  them  ;  they  have  no  cause  to  be  discouraged,  but  go  on, 
and  prosper.  But,  Mr.  Prefacer,  if  your  judgment,  upon 
the  case  itself,  be  true ;  I  conceive  that  truth,  accompa- 
nied with  your  temper  of  spirit,  is  much  worse  than  their 
error. 


THE 


BLESSEDNESS    OF    THE   RIGHTEOUS   OPENED, 


AND  FORTHBR 


RECOMMENDED  FROM  THE  CONSIDERATION 


VANITY    OF    THIS    MORTAL    LIFE. 
IN  TWO  TREATISES, 

ON  PSALM  XVIL  15.  AND  PSALM  LXXXIX.  47. 


WHEN   HE    SHALL   APPEAR,    WE   SHALL    BE    LIKE    HIM,  FOR    WE  SHALL    SEE    HIM   AS    HE   IS,    1    JOHN    HI.    8. 


AXXo  TO.  xaxa  oi   SvvarSv  in  Benii  l^pv(T6at  ti)i»  Se   OvTjrijv  ^iniv,  icai    tSv8c  rov    rSirov   irtptvoXcT  «|   dvayxni.      Aii   xai  vtipaoBat   XP^ 
iv6ev!c   Utiat  (pnyeiv  on  ravi^a.      $»)J|   ie  hjioiw<Tis  Oc<S  Kara  to  6vvaTev,  bftolaxrti  ie  StKaiov.  xai  S<no»  utra  ^eoirjatoi;  yiytrdoi. 

Plat,  in  Thecet. 


TO    THE    READER. 


1  AM  not  at  all  solicitous,  that  the  world  should  know  the  history  of  the  conception  of  this  treatise.  If  there  be  any 
thing  that  shall  recompense  the  pains  of  such  as  may  think  fit  to  give  themselves  the  trouble  of  perusing  it,  in  the 
work  itself,  I  should  yet  think  it  too  much  an  undervaluing  of  them,  if  I  did  reckon  the  minuter  circumstances  rela- 
ting thereto,  fit  matter  for  their  entertainment.  Nor  am  I  more  concerned  to  have  it  known  what  were  the  induce- 
ments to  the  publication  of  it.  Earnest  protestations  and  remonstrances  of  our  good  intentions  in  such  undertakings, 
as  they  leave  men  still  at  liberty  to  believe  or  doubt  at  their  pleasure;  so  they  gain  us  little  if  they  be  believed.  It  is 
no  easy  matter,  to  carry  one  even,  constant  tenour  of  spirit  through  a  work  of  time.  Nor  is  it  more  easy  to  pass  a 
settled  invariable  judgment  concerning  so  variable  a  subject;  when  a  heart  that  may  seem  wholly  framed  and  set  for 
God  this  hour,  shall  look  so  quite  like  another  thing  the  next,  and  change  figures  and  postures  almost  as  often  as  it 
doth  thoughts.  And  if  a  man  should  be  mistaken  in  judging  himself,  it  would  little  mend  the  matter,  to  have  de- 
ceived others  also  into  a  good  opinion  of  him.  But  if  he  can  approve  himself  to  God  in  the  simplicity  of  an  honest 
and  undeceived  heart,  the  peace  that  ensues  is  a  secret  between  God  and  him.  ♦They  are  theatre  enough  to  one 
another,  as  he  said  to  his  friend.     'Tis  an  enclosed  pleasure  :  a  joy  which  the  stranger  cannot  intermeddle  with. 

'Tis  therefore  any  man's  concernment  herein  rather  to  satisfy  himself  than  the  world.  And  the  world's,  rather  to 
understand  the  design  of  the  work  than  the  author  ;  and  whither  it  tends,  rather  than  whereto  he  meant  it.  And  'tis 
obvious  enough,  to  what  good  purposes  discourses  of  this  nature  may  serve.  This  is,  in  the  design  of  it,  wholly  prac- 
tical ;  hath  little  or  nothing  to  do  with  disputation.  If  there  be  any  whose  business  it  is  to  promote  a  private,  divided 
interest;  or  who  place  the  sum  of  their  religion  in  an  inconsiderable  and  doubtful  opinion;  it  doth  not  unhallow  their 
altars,  nor  ofl'er  any  affront  to  their  idol.  It  intends  no  quarrel  to  any  contending,  angry  party;  but  deals  upon  things 
in  the  substance  whereof  Christians  are  at  a  professed  agreement.  And  hath  therefore  the  greater  probability  of  doing 
good  to  some,  withotit  the  offence  of  any.  'Tis  indeed  equally  matter  of  complaint  and  wonder,  that  men  can  find  so 
much  leisure  to  divert  from  such  things,  wherein  there  is  so  much  both  of  importance  and  pleasure,  unto  (what  one 
would  think  ^ould  have  little  of  temptation  or  allurement  in  it)  contentious  jangling.  It  might  rather  be  thought  its 
visible  fruits  and  tendencies  should  render  it  the  most  dreadful  thing  to  every  serious  beholder.  What  tragedies  hath 
it  wrought  in  the  Christian  church  !  Into  how  weak  and  languishing  a  condition  hath  it  brought  the  religion  of  pro- 
fessed Christians !  Hence  have  risen  the  intemperate,  preternatural  heats  and  angers  that  have  spent  its  strength  and 
spirits,  and  make  it  look  with  so  meagre  and  pale  a  face.  We  have  had  a  greater  mind  to  dispute  than  live ;  and  to 
contend  about  what  we  know  not,  than  to  practise  the  far  greater  things  we  know;  and  which  more  directly  tend  to 
nourish  and  maintain  the  divine  life.  The  author  of  that  ingenious  sentence,t  (whoev^er  he  were,)  hath  fitly  expressed 
what  is  the  noisome  product  of  the  itch  of  disputing.  It  hath  begot  the  ulcerous  tumours,  which,  besides  their  own 
offensive  soreness,  drain  the  body,  and  turn  what  should  nourish  that  into  nutriment  to  themselves.  And  its  effects  are 
not  more  grievous  than  the  pleasures  which  it  affects  and  pursues  are  uncouth  and  unnatural.  *The  rough  touch  of  an 
ungentle  hand.  That  only  pleases  which  exasperates,  (as  the  moralist  aptly  expresses  some  like  disaffection  of  diseased 
minds.)     Toil  and  vexation  is  their  only  delight.     What  to  a  sound  spirit  would  be  a  pain,  is  to  these  a  pleasure. 

Which  is,  indeed,  the  triumph  of  the  disease,  that  it  adds  unto  torment,  reproach,  and  mockery,  and  imposes  upon 
men  by  so  ridiculous  a  delusion  (while  they  are  made  to  take  pleasure  in  punishing  themselves)  that  even  the  most 
sober  can  scarce  look  on  in  a  fitter  posture,  than  with  a  compassionate  smile.  All  which  were  yet  somewhat  more 
tolerable,  if  that  imagined,  vanishing  pleasure  were  not  the  whole  of  their  gain  ;  or  if  it  were  to  be  hoped,  that  so  great 
a  present  real  pain  and  smart,  should  be  recompensed  with  as  real  a  consequent  fruit  and  advantage.  But  we  know, 
that  generally  by  how  much  any  thing  is  more  disputable,  the  less  it  is  necessary  or  conducible  to  the  Christian  life. 
God  hath  graciously  provided  that  what  we  are  to  live  by,  should  not  cost  us  so  dear.  And  possibly,  as  there  is  less 
occasion  of  disputing  aboiu  the  more  momentous  things  of  religion  ;  so  there  may  be  somewhat  more  of  modesty  and 
awe  in  reference  to  what  is  so  confessedly  venerable  and  sacred,  (though  too  many  are  over  bold  even  here  also,)  than 
so  foolishly  to  trifle  with  such  things.  Therefore  more  commonly,  where  that  humour  prevails,  men  divert  from 
those  plainer  things,  with  some  slighter  and  superficial  reverence  to  them,  but  more  heartily  esteeming  them  insipid 
and  jejune,  because  they  have  less  in  them  to  gratify  that  appetite,  and  betake  themselves  to  such  things  about  which 
they  may  more  plausibly  contend  :  and  then,  what  pitiful  trifles  oftentimes  take  up  their  time  and  thoughts ;  ques- 
tions and  problems  of  like  weighty  importance,  very  often,  with  those  which,  the  above  named  author§  tells  us,  this 
disease  among  the  Greeks  prompted  them  to  trouble  themselves  about,  as,  "  What  number  of  rowers  Ulysses  had  1 
Which  was  written  first,  the  Iliad  or  the  Odysses,  &c.  ?  So  that  (as  he  saith)  they  spent  their  lives  very  operously  doing 
nothing.  Their  conceits  being  such,  that  if  they  kept  them  to  themselves,  they  could  yield  them  no  fruit ;  and  if  they 
published  them  to  others,  they  should  not  seem  thereby  the  more  learned,  but  the  more  troublesome"  to  this  purpose 
he  truly  speaks.  And  is  it  not  to  be  resented,  that  men  should  sell  away  the  solid  strength  and  vital  joy  which  a  seri- 
ous soul  would  find  in  substantial  religion,  for  such  toys  !  Yea,  and  not  only  famish  themselves,  but  trouble  the  world, 
and  embroil  the  church  with  their  impertinencies  !  If  a  man  be  drawn  forth  to  defend  an  important  truth  against  an 
injurious  assault,  it  were  treacherous  self-love  to  purchase  his  own  peace  by  declining  it.  Or  if  he  did  sometimes  turn 
his  thoughts  to  some  of  our  petty  questions,  that  with  many  are  so  hotly  agitated,  for  recreation-sake,  or  to  try  his  wit 


Pnuitus  dispntandi  scabies  Ecclesioe. 
nocitiiras  mamis  appetunt  et  tactu  gav  -  -   - 

-    -      ^ velut  malaulcprfl  pninpnint- vnlnntnti  pQo 

§  Sen.  de  Brev.  Vit. 


I  yt  ulcera  piiapdam  nocitiiras  maniis  appetunt  et  tactu  gaudent,  et  fedam  corporum  gcabiem  deleetat  quicquid  exaaperat :  Non  aliter  dixerijn  hi»  menti- 
buain  quas  voluptates  velut  mala  ulcera  eruperunt,  voluptati  esse  laborcm,  vexationemque.    Sen.  de  TranquiUitate  Animi. 


TO  THE  READER.  189 

and  exercise  his  reason,  without  stirring  his  passions  to  the  disturbance  of  others  or  himself;  'twere  an  innocent  di- 
vertisement,  and  the  best  purpose  that  things  of  that  nature  are  capable  of  serving.  But  when  contention  becomes  a 
mail's  element,  and  he  cannot  live  out  of  that  fire  ;  strains  his  wit  and  racks  his  invention  to  find  matter  of  quarrel ; 
is  resolved,  nothing  said  or  done  by  others  shall  please  him,  only  because  he  means  to  please  himself  m  dissenting; 
disputes  only  that  he  may  dispute,  and  loves  dissention  for  itself:  this  is  the  unnatural  humour  that  hath  so  unspeak- 
ably troubled  the  church,  and  dispirited  religion,  and  filled  men's  souls  with  wind  and  vanity  ;  yea,  with  fire  and  fury. 
This  hath  made  Christians  gladiators,  and  the  Christian  world  a  clamorous  theatre,  while  men  have  equally  aflfected 
to  contend,  and  to  make  ostentation  of  their  ability  so  to  do. 

And,  surely,  as  it  is  highly  pleasurable  to  retire  oneself,  so  it  is  charitable  to  call  aside  others  out  of  this  noise  and 
throng'  to  consider  silently  and  feed  upon  the  known  and  agreed  things  of  our  religion  ;  which  immediately  lead  to 
both  the  duties  and  delights  of  it.  Among  which  there  are  none  more  evident  and  undoubted,  none  less  entangled 
•with  controversy,  none  more  profitable  and  pleasant,  than  the  future  blessedness  of  the  righteous,  which  this  discourse 
treats  of  The  last  end  is  a  matter  so  little  disputable,  that  'tis  commonly  thought  (which  is  elsewhere  more  distinctly 
spoken  to)  not  to  be  the  object  of  election,  and  so  not  of  deliberation  consequently,  but  of  simple  intention  only,  because 
men  are  supposed  to  be  generally  agreed  as  touching  that.  And  the  knowledge  and  intention  of  it  is  apparently  the 
very  soul  of  religion ;  animates,  directs,  enlivens,  and  sweetens  the  whole  thereof.  Without  which,  religion  were  the 
vainest,  most  irrational,  and  most  unsavoury  thing  in  the  world.  For  what  were  there  left  of  it,  but  an  empty  unac- 
countable formality,  a  series  of  spiritless  and  merely  scenical  observances  and  actions  without  a  design  1  For  whereas 
all  men's  actions  else,  mediately  tend  to  the  last  end,  but  that  not  being  in  view  with  the  most,  they  pitch  upon  oiher 
intervenient  ends ;  which,  though  abstracted  from  the  last,  should  not  be  ;  yet  they  are  actually  to  them  the  reason  of 
their  actions,  and  infuse  a  vigour  and  liveliness  into  them  :  religion  aiming  immediately  at  the  last  end,  that  being 
taken  away,  hath  no  rational  end  or  design  at  all.  And  it  cannot  but  be  a  heartless  business,  with  great  solemnity,  in 
a  continued  course,  to  do  nothing  but  professedly  trifle,  or  keep  up  a  custom  of  certain  solemn  peiformances  which 
have  no  imaginable  scope  or  end.  And  because  the  more  clearly  this  our  last  end  is  understood,  the  more  powerfully 
and  sweetly  it  attracts  and  moves  the  soul,  this  treatise  endeavours  to  give  as  plain  and  positive  a  state  and  notion  of 
it  as  the  text  insisted  on,  compared  with  other  Scriptures,  would  afford  to  so  weak  an  eye. 

And  because  men  are  so  apt  to  abuse  themselves  with  the  vain  and  self-contradicting  hopes  of  attaining  this  end, 
without  ever  having  their  spirits  framed  to  it,  or  walking  in  the  way  that  leads  thereto,  as  if  they  could  come  to  heaven 
by  chance,  or  without  any  design  or  care  of  theirs  ;  the  proportion  is  endeavoured  to  be  shown,  between  that  Divine 
likeness,  in  the  vision  and  participation  whereof  this  blessedness  consists,  and  the  righteousness  that  disposes  £md  leads 
to  it.  Which  may  it  be  monitory  to  the  ungodly  and  profane,  who  hate  and  scorn  the  likeness  of  Grod  wherever  ihey 
behold  it.  And  let  me  tell  such  from  (better-instructed)  pagans.  That*  there  is  nothing  more  like  or  more  aaept/ible 
to  God,  than  a  man  that  is  in  the  temper  of  his  soul  truly  good,  icho  excels  other  men,  as  he  is  himself  excelled  (pardon  his 
hvperbole)  fry  the  immortal  God.  TTiat  ^' between  God  and  good  men  there  is  a  friendship,  by  means  of  virtue  ;  a  friend- 
ship, yea,  a  kindred,  a  likeness  ;  in  as  much  truly  as  the  good  man  differs  from  God  but  in  time,  (here  sprinkle  a  grain 
or  two,)  being  his  disciple,  imitator,  and  very  off-spring.  That  t  God  is  full  of  indignation  against  such  as  reproach 
one  that  is  like  to  him,  or  that  praise  one  that  is  contra riiy  affected  ;  (or  unlike  ;)  but  such  is  the  good  man  (i.  e.  he  is  one 
like  God.)  A  good  man  (as  it  shortly  after  follows)  is  the  holiest  thing  in  the  world,  and  a  wicked  man  the  most  polluted 
thing. 

And  let  me  warn  such  haters  of  holiness  and  holy  men  in  the  words  of  this  author  immediately  subjoined  ;§  And 
this  I  say  for  this  cause,  that  thou  being  but  a  inan,  the  son  of  a  man,  no  more  offend  in  speaking  against  a  hero,  one  who 
is  a  san,  of  God. 

Methiiiks  men  should  be  a'^hamed  to  profess  the  belief  of  a  life  to  come,  while  they  cannot  behold  without  indigna- 
tion, nor  mention  but  with  derision,  that  holiness  without  which  it  can  never  be  attained,  and  which  is  indeed  the  seed 
and  principle  of  the  thing  itself  But  such  are  not  likely  much  to  trouble  themselves  with  this  discourse.  There  is 
little  in  it  indeed  of  art  or  ornament  to  invite  or  gratify  such  as  the  subject  itself  invites  not.  And  nothing  at  all  but 
what  was  apprehended  might  be  some  way  useful.  The  affectation  of  garnishing  a  margin  with  the  names  of  authors, 
I  have  ever  thought  a  vain  pedantry;  yet  have  not  declined  the  occasional  use  of  a  few  that  occurred.  He  that  writes 
to  the  world,  must  reckon  himself  debtor  to  the  wise  and  unwise.  If  what  is  done  shall  be  found  with  any  to  have 
promoted  its  proper  end  ;  his  praises  to  God  shall  follow  it  (as  his  prayers  do  that  it  may)  who  professes  himself, 

A  well-wilier  to  the  souls  of  men. 

J.  HOWE. 

*  Nihil  est  Deo  siitiilius  ant  gratius  qnam  vir  animo  perfecte  bonus.  &c     Apul.  de  Deo  Socratis. 

*  Intel  bono9  viros  jc  Deum  Aniicilia  est,  nonciliante  \irtute  amicitiam  dico?  etiam  necessitudo,  et  similitudo,  &c   Sen.  de  Pror. 

;  ^i^caa  yap  o  6cos  orai/  m  Ipe}  J]  th.  fa'i7-coi  oy.oiov,  rj  ntaivrj  tov  eavnoi  tcuiriois  c\ovTa,  £$-'  (5'  uvTOi  o  O)  aaoj, — nat'TOJt'  icpdirarov  e^lv  avapciivot 
ayad)s,Kat  ftiapdiTarov  o  TToi'np'i.    Plat,  in  Minoe. 
i  ToVTOv  i'  evixa  (ppacrcu,  ti/a  ur/  anOpwiros  wf  avQpwnov,  £ij  rjpu)  Aioi  vtov  Aoj  w  e^apapravris. 


CHRISTIAN    READER. 


You  whose  hearts  are  set  on  heaven,  who  are  daily  laying  up  a  treasure  there,  here  is  a  welcome  messenger,  to  tell 
you  more  than  perhaps  you  have  well  considered,  of  the  nature  of  your  future  blessedness,  and  to  illustrate  the  map 
of  the  land  of  promise,  and  to  bring  you  another  cluster  of  its  grapes  :  here  is  a  useful  help  to  make  you  know  that 
holiness  doth  participate  of  glory,  and  that  heaven  is  at  least  virtually  in  the  seed  of  grace.  Though  this  life  be 
properly  called  a  life  of  faith,  as  contradistinct  from  the  intuition  and  fruition  hereafter,  as  well  as  from  the  lower 
life  of  sense  ;  yet  is  it  a  great  truth,  and  not  sufficiently  considered  and  improved,  that  we  have  here  more  than  faith, 
to  acquaint  us  with  the  blessedness  expected.  Between  faith  and  glory,  there  is  the  spirit  of  holiness,  the  love  of  God, 
the  heavenly  desires,  which  are  kindled  by  faith,  and  are  those  branches  on  which  the  happy  flower  and  fruit  must 
grow :  they  are  the  name  and  mark  of  God  upon  us :  they  are  our  earnest,  our  pledge,  and  the  first  fruits.  And  is  not 
this  more  than  a  word  of  promise  only  1  Therefore  though  all  Christians  must  live  by  faith,  marvel  not  that  I  tell 
you,  that  you  may,  you  must,  have  more  than  faith.  Is  not  a  pledge  and  earnest,  a  first-fruits,  more  1  Therefore 
have  Christians  not  only  a  Spirit  to  evidence  their  title,  but  also  some  foretaste  of  heaven  itself.  For  faith  in  Christ 
is  to  recover  us  to  God  ;  and  so  much  as  we  have  of  God,  so  much  of  fruition  ;  and  so  much  as  faith  hath  kindled  in 
you  of  the  love  of  God,  so  much  foretaste  you  have  of  heaven  ;  for  you  are  deceived,  if  you  think,  that  anyone  notion 
speaketh  more  to  you  of  heaven,  and  of  your  ultimate  end,  than  the  love  of  God.  And  though  no  unsound  ill-grounded 
faith  will  serve  to  cause  this  sacred  love,  yet  when  it  is  caused,  it  over-tops  this  cause ;  and  he  that  perceiveth  the 
operations  of  a  strong  effectual  love,  hath  an  acquaintance  with  God  and  heaven  which  is  above  that  of  believing. 
Faith  seeth  the  feast,  but  love  is  the  tasting  of  it.  And  therefore  it  is,  that  the  holiest  souls  stick  closest  unto  Grod,  be- 
cause (though  their  reasoning  faculty  may  be  defective)  they  know  him  by  the  highest  and  most  tenacious  kind  of 
knowledge  which  this  world  afibrdeth,  (as  I  have  lately  shown  elsewhere.)  Here  you  have  described  to  you,  the  true 
witness  of  the  Spirit ;  not  that  of  supposed  internal  voices,  which  they  are  usually  most  taken  up  with,  who  have  the 
smallest  knowledge,  and  faith,  and  love,  and  the  greatest  self-esteem,  or  spiritual  pride,  with  the  strongest  phantasies 
end  passions:  but  the  objective  and  the  sealing  testimony,  the  divine  nature,  the  renewed  image  of  God,  whose  children 
are  known  by  being  like  to  their  heavenly  Father,  even  by  being  holy  as  he  is  holy.  This  is  the  Spirit  of  adoption, 
by  which  we  are  inclined,  by  holy  love  to  God,  and  confidence  in  him,  to  cry  Abba  Father,  and  to  fly  unto  him :  the 
Spirit  of  sanctification  is  thereby  in  us  the  Spirit  of  adoption  ;  for  both  signify  but  the  giving  us  that  love  to  God, 
which  is  the  filial  nature,  and  our  Father's  image. 

And  this  treatise  doth  happily  direct  thee  to  that  faithful  beholding  God  in  righteousness,  which  must  here  begin 
this  blessed  assimilation,  which  full  intuition  will  for  ever  perfect.  It  is  a  happy  sign  that  God  is  about  to  repair 
our  ruins  and  divisions,  when  he  stirreth  up  his  servants  to  speak  so  much  of  heaven  ;  and  to  call  up  the  minds  of 
impatient  complainers,  and  contentious  censurers,  and  ignorant  self-conceited  dividers,  and  of  worldly,  unskilful,  and 
unmerciful  pastors,  to  look  to  that  state  where  all  the  godly  shall  be  one;  and  to  turn  those  thoughts  to  the  furtherance 
of  holiness,  to  provoke  one  another  to  love  and  to  good  works,  which  too  many  lay  out  upon  their  hay  and  stubble ; 
and  to  call  men  from  judging  and  despising  each  other  (and  worse  than  both  those)  about  their  meats  and  drinks,  and 
days,  to  study  righteousness  and  peace,  and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost.  For  he  that  in  these  things  serveth  Christ  (in  which 
his  kingdom  doth  consist)  is  acceptable  to  God,  and  approved  of  men,  that  are  wise  and  good.  Let  us  therefore  follow 
after  the  things  which  make  for  peace,  and  things  wherewith  one  may  edify  another.  Whilst  the  contentious  for 
meats  will  destroy  the  work  of  God,  (Rom.  xiv.  17—20.)  the  union  between  peace  and  holiness  is  so  strict,  that  he 
that  truly  promoteth  one  promoteth  both,  Heb.  xii.  14.  Jam.  iii.  17.  The  true  way  of  our  union  is  excellently  de- 
scribed, Eph.  iv.  11 — 16.  If  any  plain,  unlearned  readers  shall  blame  the  accurateness  of  the  style,  they  must  remem- 
ber, that  those  persons  have  not  the  least  need  to  hear  of  heaven,  and  to  be  drawn  up  from  the  vanities  of  earth,  who 
cannot  digest  a  looser  style.  As  God  hath  endued  the  worthy  author  with  a  more  than  ordinary  measure  of  judicious- 
ness, even  soundness  and  accurateness,  of  understanding,  with  seriousness,  spirituality,  and  a  heavenly  mind  ;  so  we 
have  for  our  common  benefit  the  effects  of  all  these  happy  qualifications,  in  this  judicious,  heavenly  discourse.  And 
if  my  recommendations  may  in  any  measure  further  your  acceptance,  improvement,  and  practising  of  so  edifying  a 
treatise,  it  will  answer  the  ends  of  him  who  waiteth  with  you  in  hope  for  the  same  salvation. 

RICHARD  BAXTER. 

Acton,  May  30. 


THE 


BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


PSALM  XVII.  15. 


AS  FOR  ME,  I  WILL  BEHOLD  THY  FACE  IN  RIGHTEOUSNESS  :    I  SHALL  BE  SATISFIED  WHEN  I  AWAKE  WITH  THY  LIKENESS. 


CHAPTER  I. 


A  PROEMIAL  DISCOtTRSE.  A  REFLECTION  UpoN  SOME  FOREGOING  VERSES  OF  THE  PSALM,  BY  WAY  OF  INTRODUCTION  TO  THJ5 
TEXT.  A  CONSIDERATION  OF  ITS  SOMEWHAT  VARIOUS  READINGS,  AND  OF  ITS  LITERAL  IMPORTANCE.  A  DISCCSSION  OF  ITS  REAL 
IMPORTANCE  SO  FAR  AS  IS  NECESSARY  TO  THE  SETTLING  THE  SUBJECT  OF  THE  PRESENT  DISCOURSE. 


The  continual  mixture  of  good  and  evil  in  this  present 
state  of  things,  with  its  uncertain  fluctuations,  and  subjec- 
tion to  perpetual  changes,  do  naturally  prompt  a  con- 
sidering mind  to  the  belief  and  hope  of  another,  that  may 
be  both  more  perfect  and  more  permanent.  For  certainly 
it  could  never  be  a  design  adequate  (or  any  way  agree- 
able) to  the  Divine  wisdom  and  goodness,  that  the  blessed 
God  should  raise  such  a  thing  as  this  lower  creation  out  of 
nothing,  only  to  give  himself  the  temporary  pleasure  of 
beholding  the  alternate  joys  and  sorrows  of  (the  best  part 
thereof)  his  reasonable  creatures  seated  in  it :  nor  a  delight 
at  all  proportionable  to  an  eternally  happy  Being,  when  he 
hath  connaturalized  such  a  creature  to  this  sensible  world ; 
only  to  take  notice  how  variously  the  passions  he  hath 
planted  in  him,  may  be  moved  and  stirred  by  the  variety 
of  occasions  which  he  shall  thence  be  presented  with ;  and 
what  sudden  and  contrary  impressions  may  be  made  upon 
his  easy  passive  senses,  by  the  interchanged  strokes  and 
touches  of  contrary  objects;  how  quickl)' hecan  raise  him 
into  a  transport  of  high  contentment  and  pleasure,  and 
then  how  soon  he  can  again  reduce  him  to  a  very  parox- 
ysm of  anguish  and  despair.  It  would  discover  us  to 
have  very  vile  and  low  thoughts  of  God,  if  we  did  not 
judge  it  altogether  unanswerable  to  his  perfections,  to 
design  no  further  thing  in  creating  this  world,  and  placing 
such  a  creature  as  man  in  it,  than  only  to  please  himself 
for  a  while  with  such  a  spectacle,  and  then  at  last  clear 
the  stage,  and  shut  up  all  again  in  an  eternal,  silent  dark- 
ness. If  we  could  suppose  a  man  furnished  with  such 
power,  he  would  surely  add  little  to  the  reputation  of  his 
being  wise  or  good  be)'ond  other  men,  by  a  design  so  to 
use  it.  Much  less  can  we  think  it  worthy  of  God  to  per- 
petuate such  a  state  of  things  as  this,  and  continue  a  suc- 
cession of  such  persons  and  actions  as  we  now  behold  in 
the  world,  through  eternal  generations,  only  to  perpetuate 
to  himself  the  same  pleasure  in  the  exercise  of  his  im- 
mense power  upon  created  natures,  over  which  he  hath  so 
infinite  advantage. 

And  indeed  nothing  can  be  more  unconceivable,  than 
that  the  great  Creator  and  Author  of  all  things  should 
frame  a  creature  of  so  vast  comprehension  as  the  spirit  of 
man,  put  into  it  a  capacity  of  knowing  and  conversing 
with  himself,  give  it  some  prospect  of  his  own  glory  and 
blessedness ;  raise  thereby,  in  many,  boundless  unsatisfied 
desires  after  him,  and  unexpressible  pleasure  in  the  pre- 
conceived hope  of  being  received  into  the  communion  of 
that  glory  and  blessedness ;  and  yet  defeat  and  blast  so 
great  an  expectation,  by  the  unsuspected  reducement  of 
the  very  subject  of  it  again  to  nothing.  Yea,  and  that  he 
should  deal  herein  (as  in  that  case  he  must)  the  most 


n, 'El  fiev  ovv  a/iO  rati  oaiiiaci  Siakvoftcvoii  xai  to  Tin  ipiixfJio  J"'  ^^  ^ore     sotiv  ekcwo  cvviiaXvtTai,  &c.  Dionys,  Halicar.  Antiq.  Rom.  lib.  S. 


hardly  with  the  best ;  and  that  such  souls,  whose  mere 
love  and  devotedncss  to  him  had  made  them  abandon  the 
pleasures  of  this  life,  and  run  through  whatsoever  diflicul- 
ties  for  his  sake,  should  fare  worse  than  the  very  worst ; 
were,  beyond  all  the  rest,  most  utterly  unimaginable,  and 
a  thought  which  Pagan  reason  hath  not  known  how  to 
digest  or  entertain.  If  (saith  one,"  and  he  speaks  the 
sense  of  many  others,  as  well  as  his  own)  u-ith  the  dissolu- 
tion of  our  bodies,  the  essence  of  the  soul,  whatsoerer  that  be 
shoaild  be  dissolved  too,  and  forever  cease  to  be  any  thing 
I  knoio  not  hoio  I  can  account  them  blessed,  that  never  hat- 
ing enjoyed  any  good  as  the  reward  of  their  virtue,  have 
even  perished  for  virtue  itself. 

Wherefore  it  is  consequent,  that  this  present  state  is  only 
intended  for  a  trial  to  the  spirits  of  men,  in  order  to  their 
attainment  as  of  a  better  state  in  a  better  world:  that  is, 
inasmuch  as  the  infinitely  wise  and  blessed  God  had  given 
being  to  such  a  creature  as  man,  in  which  both  worlds 
(the  material  and  the  immaterial)  did  meet ;  and  who,  in 
respect  of  his  earthly  and  spiritual  natures,  had  in  him 
somewhat  suitable  to  each.  And  whereas  this  creature  had 
lost  (with  his  interest)  his  very  inclination  to  the  spiritual 
objects  and  enjoyments  of  the  purer  immaterial  world, 
(wherein  alone  his  true  blessedness  could  consist,)  suflered 
a  vile  depression  of  his  spirit  unto  this  gross  corporeal 
world,  and  hereby  brought  himself  under  a  necessity  of 
being  miserable,  his  nobler  part  having  nothing  now  to 
satisfy  it,  but  what  it  was  become  unsuitable  and  disaf- 
fected to.  His  merciful  Creator,  being  intent  upon  his 
restitution,  thought  fit  not  to  bring  it  about  by  a  sudden 
and  violent  hand ;  (as  it  were  to  catch  him  into  heaven 
against  his  will;)  but  to  raise  his  spirit  into  its  just  domi- 
nion and  sovereignty  in  him,  bj'  such  gradual  methods  as 
were  most  sititable  to  a  rational,  intelligent  nature ;  that 
is,  to  discover  to  him,  that  he  had  such  a  thing  as  spirit 
about  him;  whence  it  M^as  fallen,  how  low  it  was  sunk,  to 
what  state  it  was  yet  capable  to  be  raised,  and  what  he  had 
designed  and  done  for  its  happy  recover}-.  And  hence,  by 
the  secret  and  powerful  insinuations  of  his  own  light  and 
grace,  to  awaken  his  drowsy  and  slumbering  reason,  and 
incline  his  perverse  and  wayward  will  to  the  consideration 
and  choice  of  such  things  as  that  felicity  consists  in; 
which  that  better  world  can  aflbrd,  and  his  better  part  enjoy. 

And  while  he  propounds  such  things  to  him.  how  rea- 
sonable and  agreeable  was  it,  that  he  should  keep  him 
sometimes  under  a  just  probation,  (yea,  how  much  was 
there  in  it  of  a  gracious  and  compassionate  indulgence,  often 
to  renew  the  trial,)  whether  he  would  yet  bestir  himself,  and 
(having  so  great  hopes  before  him,  and  such  helps  and 
aids  afforded  him,  and  ready  to  be  aflbrded)  apply,  at 


m 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OP  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


Chap.  I. 


last,  his  intellectual  and  elective  powers,  to  mind  and 
close  with  so  gracious  overtures,  in  order  to  his  own 
eternal  advancement  and  blessedness  1  Nor  was  it  an  un- 
reasonable expectation  that  he  should  do  so.  For,  how- 
ever the  temporal  good  and  evil  that  may  constantly  alfect 
his  sensitive  part  and  powers  be  present  and  near,  but 
the  eternal  misery  or  blessedness  of  his  soul,  future  and  re- 
mote ;  yet,  inasmuch  as  he  is  capable  of  understanding  the 
vast  disproportion  of  time  and  eternity,  of  a  mortal  flesh 
and  an  immortal  spirit,  how  preposterous  a  course  were 
it,  and  unworthy  of  a  man ;  yea,  how  dishonourable  and 
reproachful  to  his  Maker,  should  he  prefer  the  momentary 
pleasures  of  narrow,  incapacious  sense,  to  the  everlasting 
enjoyments  of  an  enlarged  comprehensive  spirit !  or,  for 
the  avoiding  the  pains  and  miseries  of  the  former  kind,  in- 
cur those  of  the  latter  !  Whence  also  the  holy  God  doth 
not  expect  and  require  only,  that  men  should  make  that 
v.'iser  choice ;  but  doth  most  justly  lay  the  weight  of  their 
eternal  states  upon  their  doing  or  not  doing  so.  And  in 
that  day  when  he  shallb  render  to  every  one  according  to 
their  works,  make  this  the  rule  of  his  tinal  judgment,  to 
allot  to  them,  who  by  a  patient  continuance  in  well-doing 
seek  for  honour,  glory,  and  immortality,  eternal  life.  To 
the  rest,  indignation  and  wrath,  tribulation  and  anguish, 
&c.  and  that  whether  they  be  Jews  or  Gentiles.  Nor  is  it 
a  new  thing  in  the  world,  that  some  among  the  children  of 
men  should  in  this  comply  with  the  righteous  will  of  God, 
and  so  judge  and  choose  for  themselves,  as  he  is  pleased 
to  direct  and  prescribe.  'Tis  a  course  approved  by  the  con- 
current suffrage  of  all  them,  in  all  times  and  ages,  into 
whose  minds  the  true  light  hath  shined,  and  whom  God 
hath  inspired  with  that  wisdom  whereby  he  maketh  wise 
to  salvation.  That  numerous  assembly  of  the  perfected 
spirits  of  the  just,  have  agreed  in  this  common  resolution; 
and  did  in  their  several  generations,  ere  they  had  passed 
this  state  of  trial,  with  an  heroic  magnanimity,  trample  this 
present  world  under  their  feet,  and  aspire  to  the  glory  of 
the  world  to  come  ;  relieving  themselves  against  all  the 
grievances  they  have  suffered  from  such,  whose  portion  is 
in  this  life,  with  the  alone  hope  and  confidence  of  what 
they  were  to  enjoy  in  another. 

And  hereof  we  have  an  eminent  and  illustrious  in- 
stance in  this  context,  where  the  ground  is  laid  of  the  fol- 
lowing discourse.  For  introduction  whereto,  observe  that 
— the  title  speaks  the  Psalm  a  prayer  of  David.  The  mat- 
ter of  the  prayer  is,  preservation  from  his  enemies.  Not  to 
go  over  the  whole  Psalm,  we  have  in  the  13  and  14  verses, 
the  sum  of  his  desires,  with  a  description  of  the  persons 
he  prays  to  be  delivered  from  :  in  which  description  every 
character  is  an  argument  to  enforce  his  prayer. 

Prom  the  wicked  :  q.  d.  they  are  equally  enemies  to  thee 
and  me ;  not  more  opposite  to  me  by  their  cruelty,  than 
by  their  wickedness  they  are  to  thee.  Vindicate,  then,  at 
once  thyself  and  deliver  me. 

Thy  sivord,  thy  hand.  Thou  canst  as  easily  command 
and  manage  them,  as  a  man  may  wield  his  sword,  or  move 
his  hand.  Wilt  thou  suffer  thine  own  sword,  thine  own 
hand,  to  destroy  thine  own  servant. 

Men  of  the  world,  which  have  their  portion  in  this  life : 
time  and  this  lower  world  bound  all  their  hopes  and  fears. 
They  have  no  serious  believing  apprehensions  of  any  thing 
beyond  this  present  life  ;  therefore  have  nothing  to  with- 
hold them  from  the  most  injurious  violence,  if  thou  with- 
hold them  not :  men  that  believe  not  another  w^orld,  are 
the  ready  actors  of  any  imaginable  mischiefs  and  tragedies 
in  this. 

Whose  belly  thou  fillest :  i.  e.  their  sensual  appetite  ;  as 
oftentimes  that  term  is  used'^  Withthy  hid  treasures:  rf^-.  the 
riches  which  either  God  is  wont  to  hide  in  the  bowels  of 
the  earth,  or  lock  up  in  the  repository  of  Providence,  dis- 
pensing them  at  his  own  pleasure. 

They  are  full  of  children.  So  it  appears,  by  that  which 
follows,  it  ought  to  be  read,  and  not  according  to  that 
gross,d  but  easy  mistake  of  some  transcribers  of  the  Seventy. 

b  Rom.  ii.  6,  7,  8,  9. 

c  Rom.  xvi.  18.    Pliil.  iii.  19. 

d  vui'  for  vtosv.  ,         . 

einji-^n  V'pna  njjaiTN  i^js  nrnN  pi!(2  >3n  Sept.  Ekw^c  ev  diKato(TMt.n 

0(pdrianiint,  twi  Tpr'acJTTi.ii  aov  xopTacQ^anpiai  Cf  rroc  ovqaai  rm'  oofai' 
oov.  The  vuUrar  Latin,  B^o  autein  in  ju-stitia  apparcho  conspecfui  tuo, 
satlnbor  cum  np-paruerit  gloria  ttta.  Exactly  following  the  Seventy,  as 
doth  the  Btiuopic.     The  Chaldee  paraphnue  disagrees  little  ;   the  Arabic 


As  if  in  all  this  he  had  pleaded  thus :  "  Lord,  thou  hast 
abundantly  indulged  those  men  already,  what  need  they 
more  1  They  have  themselves,  from  thy  unregarded  boun- 
ty, their  own  vast  swollen  desires  sufficiently  filled,  enough 
for  their  own  time ;  and  when  they  can  live  no  longer  in 
their  persons,  they  may  in  their  posterity,  and  leave  not 
strangers,  but  their  nmnerous  offspring,  their  heirs.  Is  it 
not  enough  that  their  avarice  be  gratified,  except  their  ma- 
lice be  also  1  that  they  have  whatsoever  they  can  conceive 
desirable  for  themselves,  unless  they  may  also  infer  what- 
ever they  can  think  mischievous  on  me  ?"  To  this  descrip- 
tion of  his  enemies,  he  ex  ojrposito,  subjoins  some  account 
of  himself  in  this  his  closure  of  the  Psalm :  As  for  me. 
Here  he  is  at  his  statique  point;  and,  after  some  appearing 
discomposure,  his  spirit  returns  to  a  consistency,  in  con- 
sideration of  his  own  more  happy  state,  which  he  opposes 
and  prefers  to  theirs,  in  the  following  respects.  Timl  they 
were  wicked,  he  righteous.  "  I  will  behold  thy  face  in 
righteousness."  That  their  happiness  was  worldly,  terrene, 
such  only  as  did  spring  from  the  earth;  his  heavenly  and 
divine,  such  as  should  result  from  the  face  and  image  of 
God.  Theirs  present,  temporary,  compassed  within  this 
life;  his  future,  everlasting,  to  be  enjoyed  when  he  should 
awake.  Theirs  partial,  defective,  such  as  would  but  grat- 
ify their  bestial  part,  fill  their  bellies  ;  his  adequate,  com- 
plete, (the  ivSiii^wvia  Tov  avvBiTov,')  such  as  should  satisfy  the 
man.     "  I  shall  be  satisfied,"  &c. 

The  variety  of  rendering  this  verse  (to  be  seen  by  com- 
paring the  original  and  translation  noted  in  the  margin*^) 
need  not  give  us  any  trouble,  the  differences  not  being  ol 
great  moment,  nor  our  own  reading  liable  to  exception. 
The  word  niion  about  which  is  the  greatest  diversity, 
hath  the  significancy  we  here  give  it,  in  the  second  com- 
mandment, and  constantly  elsewhere.  And  then,  what 
more  proper  English  can  this  text  be  capable  of,  than  it 
hath  in  our  Bibles  1  Each  word  hath  its  true  and  genuine 
import ;  and  the  syntax  is  suflficiently  regular  and  gram- 
matical of  the  whole.  Only  as  to  the  former,  that  usual 
and  obvious  observation  must  here  have  place  ;  that  the  a 
prefixed  to  |5^x  and  which  with  it  we  read  in  righteousness, 
doth  often  signify  among  its  various  acceptations,  by  or 
through ;  and  that  not  only  as  denoting  instrumentality, 
but  more  at  large,  the  place  of  any  medium  necessary  to 
the  attainment  of  the  end  it  subserves  to  ;  whence  the  same 
use  of  the  Greek  v,  that  answers  thereimto,  is  wont  to  go 
for  a  Hebraism. 

And  as  to  the  latter,  the  only  thing  liable  to  controversy, 
is  whether  the  gerundf  ■i>pr^2  is  to  be  construed  with  the 
person  speaking,  when  I  awake ;  or  in  my  awaking ,  or  with 
the  thing ;  the  likeness  or  image  spoken  of  in  the  awaking 
of  thine  image,  or  when  thine  image  shall  awake :  and  I 
conceive  we  need  not  discuss  it,  but  following  our  own 
translation,  leave  the  judgment  of  it  to  the  ear  itself,  which, 
(as  Elihu  tells  us,)  trieth  words. 

In  the  meantime,  the  rea't,  importance  of  this  scrip- 
ture more  calls  for  discussion  than  the  literal ;  concerning 
which,  a  threefold  inquiry  will  be  necessary  tor  the  settling 
the  subject  of  the  following  discourse. — 1.  What  relation 
this  righteousness  must  be  understood  to  have  to  the  vision 
of  God's  face,  and  the  other  consequent  blessedness. — 2. 
What  time  or  state  awaking  refers  to,  and — 3.  What  is 
intended  by  the  likeness  of  God.  To  the  first.  It  is  only 
necessary  to  say  at  present,  that  the  already  noted  import 
of  the  preposition?  in  being  supposed  most  suitable  to  this 
text,  (as  apparently  it  is,)  righteousness  must  be  looked 
upon  in  reference  to  this  vision,  not  as  in  an  idle  or  merely 
casual  concomitancy,  or  as  an  imconcerned  circumstance, 
that  hath  nothing  to  do  with  the  business  spoken  of;  but  as 
in  a  close  and  intimate  connexion  therewith ;  being,  1. 
antecedent,  2.  conducible,  3.  necessary  thereto.  Nor  can 
I  better  express  its  place,  and  reference  to  it,  generally  and 
in  one  word,  than  in  saying  it  qualifies  for  it;  which  how 
It  doth,  will  be  more  proper  to  consider  hereafter.  It  mny 
now  suffice  to  say,  those  words  give  us  the  qualified  sub- 
less  ;  the  SsTiac  mistook,  it  seems, l~i3''Dn  for  ^^3^D^l  and  so  read  that  word 
faith  \vhicl\  we  read  likeness. 

f  HieronymiLS  (juStta  Hebr.)  reads  the  words  exactly  as  we  do:  Ego  in 
juntitia  vklebofaciern  tumii.  i»iiplebor.  cum  evigilaveio, simiHtvdine  tva. 

g  pTS3  seems  best  to  be  rendered  here,  by,  or  through  righteousness,  as  by  the 
condition  in  which  he  may  e.vpect  the  return  of  God's  mercies  here,  or  the  eter- 
nal nsion  of  him  hereafter,  &c.  So  the  learned  Dr.  Hammond,  AJinot.  in  loc. 
quoting  also  Castellio  to  the  same  purpose. 


Chap.  1. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


193 


ject  of  this  blessedness,  "  I  in  righteousness,"  a  righteous 
person  as  such.  To  the  secand :  Taking  it  for  granted, 
that  none  will  understand  this  awakening  as  opposed  to 
natural  sleep;  in  the  borrowed  or  tropical  sense,  it  must 
be  understood  to  intend  either  some  better  state  in  this 
life,  in  comparison  whereof  the  Psalmist  reckons  his  pre- 
sent state  but  as  a  sleep ;  or  the  future  state  of  blessedness 
in  the  other  life.  There  have  been  some  who  have  under- 
stood it  of  the  former,  and  thought  the  Psalmist  to  speak 
only  of  a  hoped  freedom  from  his  present  temporal  afflic- 
tions; but  then,  that  which  will  be  implied,  .seems  not  so 
specious :  that  trouble  and  affliction  should  be  signilied  by 
the  necessarily  pre-supposed  sleep,  which  sure  doth  more 
resemble  rest  than  trouble. 

I  conceive  it  less  exceptionable  to  refer  awaking  to  the 
blessed  state  of  saints  after  this  life.  For,  that  saints,  at 
that  time  when  this  was  writ,  had  the  knowledge  of  such 
a  state,  (indeed  a  saint  not  believing  a  life  to  come,  is  a 
perfect  contradiction,)  no  doubt  can  be  made  by  any  that 
hath  ever  so  liltle  read  and  compared  the  Old  and  New 
Testament.  We  are  plainly  told,  that  those  excellent  per- 
sons mentioned  in  the  famous  roll,h  lived  by  that  faith, 
which  was  the  substance  of  things  hoped  for,  and  the  evi- 
dence of  things  not  seen.  That  of  them,  Abraham,  Isaac, 
and  Jacob,  while  they  lived  in  Canaan,  yet  sought  abetter, 
a  heavenly  country,  confessing  themselves  pilgrims,  and 
strangers  on  earth.  We  know  it  was  the  more  general 
belief  of  the  Jews  in  our  Saviour's  time.  And  whence 
should  they  have  it,  but  from  the  Old  Testament  1  Thither 
our  iSaviour  remits  them  to  search  it  out,  and  the  way  to 
it.  The  apostle  Saint  Paulk  gives  it  as  the  common  faith 
of  the  twelve  tribes,  grounded  upon  ihe  promise  made  to 
their  forefathers;  and  thence  prudentially  he  herein  states 
the  cause  wherein  he  was  now  engaged;  supposing  it 
would  be  generally  resented,  that  he  should  be  called  in 
question  for  avowing  (only)  so  known  and  received  a  truth. 
Sure  they  were  beholden  "to these  .sacred  writings  they  had 
then  among  them,  for  so  common  a  belief;  and  since  it  is 
out  of  question,  from  our  Saviour's  express  words,  they  do 
contain  the  ground  of  that  belief;  what  cause  have  we  to 
be  so  shy  of  so  interpreting  scriptures  that  have  a  fair  as- 
pect that  way  %  It  is,  that  we  can  devise  to  fasten  here  and 
there  another  sense  upon  divers  such  1  I  wonder  what  one 
text  can  be  mentioned  in  all  the  Old  Testament  to  this  pur- 
pose, wherein  one  may  not  do  so.  And  what  then  would 
be  the  tendency  of  this  course,  but  to  deny  in  all  the  par- 
ticulars, what,  upon  so  clear  evidence,  we  are  in  the  general 
forced  to  admit  1  and  to  put  Moses,  and  Abraham,  and 
David,  in  a  lower  class  than  Pythagoras,  and  Socrates,  and 
Plato  1  And  I  think  if  would  not  be  easy  to  find  one  text 
in  all  that  part  of  the  Bible,  where  both  the  words  thereof, 
and  the  context,  do  more  fairly  comply,  than  in  this,  so  as 
not  only  to  admit,  but  even  to  invite,  that  interpretation. 

For  the  term  awake,  about  which  the  present  inquiry  is, 
how  apt  and  obvious  is  the  analog}^  between  our  awaking 
out  of  natural  sleep,  and  the  holy  soul's  rising  up  out  of 
the  darkness  and  torpor  of  its  present  state,  into  the  en- 
livening light  of  God's  presence  1  It  is  truly  said  so  to 
awake,  at  its  first  quitting  these  darksome  regions,  when  it 
lays  aside  its  cumbersome  night-vail.  It  doth  so  more 
perfectly,  in  the  joyful  morning  of  the  resurrection-day, 
when  mortalitjr  is  swallowed  up  in  life,  and  all  the  yet 
hovering  shadows  of  it  are  vanished  and  fled  away.  And 
how  knowTi  and  usual  an  application  this  is  of  the  meta- 
phorical terms  of  sleeping  and  awaking  in  holy  writ,  I 
need  not  tell  them  who  have  read  the  Bible.  Nor  doth 
this  interpretation  less  fitly  accord  to  the  other  contents  of 
this  verse :  for  to  what  state  do  the  sight  of  God's  face, 
and  satisfaction  with  his  likeness,  so  fully  agree,  as  to  that 
of  future  blessedness  in  the  other  world  ?  But  then  the 
contexture  of  discourse  in  this  and  the  foregoing  verse  to- 
gether, seems  plainly  to  determine  us  to  this  sense  :  for 
what  can  be  more  conspicuous  in  them,  than  a  purposed 
comparison  and  opposition  of  two  states  of  felicity  mutually 
each  to  other  1  That  of  the  wicked,  whom  he  calls  7«c?i  of 
time,  (as  the  words  are  rendered  byi  one,  and  do  literall)- 
signify,)  and  whose  portion,  he  tells  us,  is  in  this  life:  and 

h  Heb.  ri.  1,9.  !3,  14,  15,  16.  i  Jolin  v.  39. 

k  Acts  xxvi.  &  6.  7.  compared  with  the  8- 

I  Tyno  OTioO.    Hominee  de  tempore.    Pagnin. 


the  righteous  man's,  his  OAvn ;  which  he  expected  not  to 
be  till  he  should  awake,  i.e.  not  till  after  this  life. 

Thirdly.  It  is  farther  to  be  inquired,  how  we  are  here  to 
understand  the  likeness  of  God  ?  I  doubt  not  but  we  are 
to  understand  by  it,  his  glor\'.  And  the  only  difficulty 
which  it  will  be  necessar)'  at  present  to  consider  about  it, 
is,  whether  we  are  to  take  it  objective!}',  or  subjectively ; 
for  the  glory  to  be  represented  to  the  blessed  soul,  or  the 
glory  to  be  impressed  upon  it ;  the  gloiy  which  it  is  to 
behold,  or  the  glory  it  shall  bear.  And  1  conceive  the 
difference  is  more  easily  capable  of  accommodation,  than 
of  a  strict  decision  on  either  part.  By /«c€  is  undoubtedly 
meant  objective  glory,  and  that  in  iis  most  perfect  repre- 
sentation ;  the  face  being,  as  we  know  with  men,  the  chief 
seat  of  aspectable  majesty  and  beauty.  Hence  when  Moses 
desires  to  see  God's  glory^  though  he  did  vouchsafe  some  d  i  - 
covery  of  it,  yet  he  tells  him  his  face  cannot  be  seen.  Here- 
upon, therefore,  the  next  expression,  thy  likeness,  might 
the  more  plausibly  be  restrained  to  subjective  glor\-,.soas  to 
denote  the  image  of  God  now  in  its  most  perfect  impressiun, 
on  the  blessed  .soul.  But  I  hat  I  insist  not  on.  Supposing, 
therefore,  that  what  is  signified  by  face,  be  repeated  oyer 
again  in  this  word  likeness,  yet  I  conceive  the  expression 
is  not  varied  in  vain ;  but  having  more  to  say  than  only 
that  he  expected  a  stale  of  future  vision,  viz.  that  he  assured 
himself  of  satisfaction  too,  another  word  was  thought  fit 
to  be  used,  that  might  signify  also  somewhat  that  must 
intervene  in  order  to  that  satisfaction.  'Tis  certain  the 
mere  objective  representation  and  consequent  intuition  of 
the  most  excellent  (even  the  Divine)  glory,  cannot  satisfy 
a  soul  remaining  disafl^ected  and  unsuitable  thereunto.  It 
can  only  satisfy,  as  being  represented ;  it  forms  the  soul 
into  the  same  image,  and  attempers  it  to  itself,  q.  d.  "  I 
expect  hereafter  to  see  the  blessed  face  of  God,  and  to  be 
myself  blessed  or  satisfied  by  his  gloiy,  at  once  appearing 
to  me,  and  transfusing  itself  upon  me."  In  short,  there- 
fore, I  understand  by  that  term,  the  glor\'  of  God  a.s  trans- 
forming, or  as  impressive  of  itself.  If  therefore  glory,  the 
object  of  the  soul's  vision,  shall  by  any  be  thought  to  be 
intended  in  it,  I  contend  not;  supposing  only,  that  the 
object  be  taken  not  materially,  or  potentially  only,  for  the 
thing  visibly  in  itself  considered :  but  formally,  and  in 
esse  actuali  objccti,  that  is,  as  now,  actvally  iynprcssing  it- 
self or  as  connoting  such  an  impression  upon  the  behold- 
ing soul;  for  so  only  is  it  productive  of  such  a  pleasure 
and  satisfaction  to  it,  as  must  ensue.  As  in  this  form  of 
speech,  "  such  a  man  takes  pleasure  in  knowledge,"  it  is 
evident  knowledge  must  be  taken  there  both  objec- 
tively, for  the  things  known,  and  subjectively,  for  the 
actual  perception  of  those  things ;  inasmuch  as^  apparently, 
both  must  concur  to  work  him  delight.  So  it  will  appear, 
to  any  one  that  attentively  considers  it,  glory  must  be  taken 
in  that  passage,™  "We  rejoice  in  hope  of  the  glory  of  God." 
'Tis  divine  glory  both  revealed  and  received ;  his  exhibition 
and  communication  of  it,  according  to  his  ivimcnsihr,  and 
our  panicipation  of  it,  accordingto  our  measvrc,  that  must 
concur  to  our  eternal  satisfaction.  Herein  the  Platonic 
adage  »  haih  evident  truth  in  it ;  Pleasure  is  here  certain- 
ly made  vp  of  something  finite  and  something  infinite,  viecting 
together.  'Tis  not  (as  the  philosopher  speaks)  a  ^iooktov, 
but  a  KTTiron  Ti ;  not  any  thing  separate  from  the  soul,  but 
something  it  possesses,  that  can  make  it  happy.  'Tis  not 
happy  by  an  incommunicate  happiness,  nor  glorious  by  an 
incommunicale  irUuy.  Indeed,  the  discovery  of  such  a 
glorv  to  an  inglorious,  unholy  soul,  must  rather  torment 
than  satisfv.  The  future  glory  of  saints  is  therefore  called 
o  a  glory  to  be  revealed  in  them  (or  into  them,  as  the  word 
signifies.)  And  in  the  foregoing  words,  the  apostle  assures 
Christ's  fellow-suffiiers, that  they  shall  be  glorified  toge- 
ther with  him.  Surely  the  notation  of  that  word,  the  for- 
mal no'ion  of  glorification,  cannot  import  so  little  as  only 
to  be  a  .spcctattir  of  glory  ;  it  must  signify  a  being  made 
glorious. 

Nor  is  the  common  and  true  maxim  otherwise  intelligible, 
that  grace  and  glory  difler  only  in  degree.  For  certainly  it 
could  never  enter  into  the  mind  of  a  sober  man  (though 
how  dangerously  some  speak,  that  might  possibly  haTf 

m  Rom.  V  ?. 

n  Vohiptiitis  srenpititio  pst  ex  hifiniti  ct  finiti  copulatione. 

o  Roni.  viii.  IS.  cis  q/Kii. 


194 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


Chap.  II. 


been  so  if  too  much  learning  had  not  made  them  mad,  will 
be  animadverted  in  its  p.ace,)  that  objective  glory,  and 
grace  in  saints,  were  the  same  specific  (much  less  the 
same  numerical)  thing.  'Tis  true,  that  Scripture  often  ex- 
presses the  future  blessedness,  by  vision  of  God.  But  where 
that  phrase  is  used  to  signify  it  alone,  'tis  evident,  (as  within 
the  lower  regions  of  grace,  words  of  knowledge  do  often 
imply  ali'ection,  and  correspondent  impressions  on  the  soul) 
it  must  be  understood  of  afi'ective  transformative  vision, 
such  as  hath  conformity  to  God  most  inseparably  conjunct 
with  it.  And,  that  we  might  understand  so  much,  they 
are  elsewhere  both  expre.ssly  mentioned  together,  as  joint 
ingredients  into  a  saint's  blessedness;  as  in  those  words  so 
full  of  clear  and  rich  sense :  "  When  he  shall  appear,  we 
shall  be  like  him,  for  we  shall  see  him  as  he  is."  Which 
text  1  take  for  a  plain  comment  upon  this  ;  and  methinks 
it  should  not  easily  be  supposable,  they  should  both  speak  so 
near  the  same  words,  and  not  intend  the  same  sense. — 
You  have  in  both,  the  same  season,  "When  he  shall  appear, 
When  I  shall  awake:"  the  same  i-wiyVc^,  The rigAteoMi per- 
son born  of  God ;  (compare  the  close  of  the  former  chapter 
with  the  beginning  of  this ;)  and,  "  I  in  righteousness ;"  the 
same  vision,  "  We  shall  see  him  as  he  is,  I  shall  behold 
his  face:"  the  same  assimiiatimi,  "We  shall  be  like  him  ; 
I  shall  be  satisfied  with  his  likeness"  (concerning  the  x^'^'s 
or  habitude  this  vision  and  assimilation  mutually  have  to 
one  another,  there  will  be  consideration  had  in  its  place.) 
I  therefore  conceive  neither  of  these  notions  of  the  Divine 
likeness  to  exclude  the  other.  If  it  be  inquired,  which  is 
principally  meant  1  That  needs  not  be  determined.  If  the 
latter,  it  supposes  the  former  ;  if  the  former,  it  infers  the 
latter.  Without  the  first,  the  other  cannot  be;  without 
the  other,  the  first  cannot  satisfy. 

If  any  yet  disagree  to  this  interpretation  of  this  text,  let 
them  affix  the  doctrine  propounded  from  it,  to  that  other 
last  mentioned,  (which  only  hath  not  the  express  mention 
of  a  consequent  satisfaction,  as  this  hath ;  whence,  therefore, 
as  being  in  this  respect  fuller,  my  thoughts  were  pitched 
upon  this.)  Only  withal  let  it  be  considered  how  much 
more  easy  it  is  to  imagine  another  sense,  and  suppose  it 
possible,  than  to  disprove  this,  or  evince  it  impossible. — 
5How  far  probable  it  is,  must  be  left  to  the  judgment  of  the 
indifferent :  with  whom  it  may  not  be  insignificant  to  add, 
that  thus  It  hath  been  understood  by  interpreters  (I  might 
adventure  to  say  the  generality)  of  all  sorts.  However,  the 
iew  annexed?  (for  I  neither  apprehend  the  necessity,  nor 
have  the  present  conveniency,  of  alleging  many)  will  suf- 
fice to  avoid  any  imputation  of  singularity  or  novelty. 


CHAPTER  II. 

A  summarj'  proposal  of  the  doctrine  contained  in  tliis  scripture.  A  distri- 
linlion  of  it  into  tliree  distinct  heads  of  discourse  :  viz :  1.  The  qnaUtied 
suliji'Ct.  2.  The  nature.  3.  The  seasoEi  of  tlie  blessedness  here  spoken  of 
The  tirst  of  these  talcen  into  consideration  where  the  qualification,  righte- 
ousness, is  treated  of  About  whicli  is  shown,  1.  What  it  is.  2.  How  it 
quuUfied. 

Now  the  foregoing  sense  of  the  words  being  supposed, 
it  appears  that  the  proper  argument  of  the  scripture  is, — 
The  blessedness  of  the  righteous  in  the  other  life,  consisting 
in  the  vision  and  participation  of  the  Divine  glory,  with  the 
satisfaction  that  resulteth  thence.  In  which  summary  ac- 
count of  the  doctrine  here  contained,  three  general  heads 
of  discourse  offer  tiiemselves  to  our  view : — The  subject, 
the  nature,  and  the  season  of   this  blessedness : — Or   to 

p  A^itur  de  re'iirrectione  et  manifestatione  glorise  ccplestis.  Ruffin  in  loc— 
Cum  appamerit  gloria  tua,  i.  e.  gloria  resurrectionis.  Bed.  Comment,  in 
Psalm.  .      , 

How  the  Jews  were  wont  to  understand  it.  may  be  seen  at  one  view  in  that 
of  Petnis  (iaialinns  in  loc  Duo  mi  Capnio  me  hie  per  prisca.s  Judaorum 
Scripturas  osfendere  liortaris.  et  generalem  mortnonmi  resurrectionem  fijtu- 
ram  esse  et  earn  per  Me.'siam  (actum  in,  prim.um  itaque  patet  non  solum 
ptrsacrae  script  urae  testimonia  venmi  etiam  per  Talmndistarum  dicla.  Nam 
illuil  quidom,  Vfa\.  xvii  dictum  ego  injiislilia— &c.  sic  e.vponunt,  et  presertim 
Ral)l>i  Aliraham  Aven  Ezra  et  Rabbi  .Solomo,  ifcc.  And  so  he  goes  on  to  re- 
cite their  words,  De  Arcanis  Catholicse  veritatis. 

Opponis  hpec,  iis  quae  de  impiis  dixerat.  Illi  Sapiunt  teiTena  Saturantur 
filiis  et  portionem  suam  in  hac  vita  ponunt,  milii  vero  contenipta  est  ha>c 
vita  ;  ad  futuram  festino,  ubi  non  in  divitiis,  sed  in  justitia  yidebo,  non 
tcrrcna  hsec  transitura,  sed  ipsam  faciemtuam.  nee  saturaborin  (iliis  camis  sed 
cum  evi'.'ilavero  tua  similitudine,  sicut.  1  Job.  lii.  2. — Cum  appamerit,  &c. 
Liith.  in  PsnI.  „  .    .,.  ...      , 

R"=uigam  e  mnrtuis — videbo  de  r>erfecti.93ime  sicut  es,  Similis  cro  tibt.  Jun. 
and  Tremel  on  Psalm  17. 


whom  it  belongs,  wherein  it  consists,  and  when  it  shall  be 
enjoyed. 

FHrst,  then,  we  begin  with  the  consideration  of  the  sub- 
ject unto  whom  this  blessedness  appertains.  And  we  find 
it  expressed  in  the  text,  in  these  only  words,  "  I;  in  righte- 
ousness ;"  which  amounts  to  as  much  as,  a  righteous  per- 
son as  such.  They  represent  to  us  the  subject  of  this  bless- 
edness in  its  proper  qualifications  ;  wherein  our  business 
is  to  consider  his  qualification,  righteousness,  under  which 
notion  only  he  is  concerned  in  the  present  discourse  ;  and 
about  which,  two  things  are  to  be  inquired — What  it  im- 
ports, and — How  it  qualifies. 

First,  What  it  imports.  I  take  righteousness  here  to  be 
opposed  to  wickedness  in  the  foregoing  verse  ;  (as  was 
intimated  before;)  and  so  understand  it  in  equal  latitude, 
not  of  particular,  but  of  universal  righteousness.  That  is, 
not  that  particular  virtue  which  inclines  men  to  give  every 
one  their  right,  (unless  in  that  every  one,  you  would  in- 
clude also  the  blessed  God  himself,  the  sovereign  common 
Lord  of  all,)  but  a  universal  rectitude  of  heart  and  life, 
comprehending  not  only  equity  towards  men,  but  piety 
towards  God  also.  A  conformity  to  the  law  in  general,  in 
its  utmost*  extent,  adequately  opposite  to  sin,  (which  is  in- 
deed of  larger  extent  than  wickedness;  and  in  what  dif- 
ferent respects  righteousness  is  commensurate  to  the  one 
and  the  other,  we  shall  see  by  and  by,)  as  that  is,  generally, 
said  to  be  avofna,  ha  transgression  of  the  law.  Among 
■^moralists,  such  a  comprehensive  notion  of  righteousness 
as  is  incliLsive  of  all  other  virtues,  is  not  unknown.  But 
in  Scripture,  it  is  its  much  more  ordinary  acceptation.  To 
give  instances,  were  to  suppose  too  much  ignorance  in 
the  reader ;  and  to  enumerate  the  passages  in  which  this 
term  is  taken  in  that  extensive  sense,  were  too  great  an 
unnecessary  burden  to  the  writer.  It  were  indeed  to  tran- 
scribe a  great  part  of  the  Bible.  How  familiar  is  the  op- 
position of  righteous  and  wicked,  and  righteous  and  sinner, 
in  sacred  language  !  And  how  fully  co-extent  righteousness 
is,  in  the  scripture  notion  of  it,  to  the  whole  law  of  God, 
that  one  passage  sufficiently  discovers  ;  where  'tis  said  of 
Zacharias  and  Elisabeth,  d  that  they  were  both  righteous 
before  God,  walking  in  all  the  commandm.ents  and  ordi- 
nances of  the  Lord  blameless.  'Tis  true,  indeed,  that  when 
the  words  godliness  or  holiness  are  in  conjunction  with  this 
term,  its  significancy  is  divided  and  shared  with  them;  so 
as  that  they  signify  in  that  case,  conformity  to  the  will  of 
God  in  the  duties  of  ihe  first  table,  and  this  is  confined  to 
those  of  the  second:  otherwise, being  put  alone,  it  signifies 
the  whole  duty  of  man,  as  the  other  expressions  also  do  in 
the  same  case,  especially  the  latter  of  them. 

As  it  seems  not  to  be  within  the  present  design  of  the 
context  to  take  notice  of  any  imputed  wickedness  of  the 
opposite  sort  of  persons,  other  than  what  was  really  in 
them;  and  whereby  they  might  be  fitly  characterized;  so 
I  conceive,  that  imputed  righteousness  is  not  here  meant, 
lliat  is  inherent  in  the  person  of  the  Mediator;  but  that 
which  is  truly  subjected  in  a  child  of  God,  and  descriptive 
of  him.  Nor  must  any  ihink  it  strange,  that  all  the  requi- 
sites to  our  salvation  are  not  found  together  in  one  text  of 
Scripture.  The  righteousness  of  him,  whom  we  are  to 
adore  as  made  sin  for  us,  that  we  might  be  made  the 
righteousness  of  God  in  him,  hath  a  much  higher  sphere, 
peculiar  and  appropriate  in  itself.  This  of  v.'hich  we  now 
speak,  in  its  own  inferior  and  subordinate  place,  is  neces- 
sary also  to  be  both  had  and  understood.  It  must  be  un- 
derstood by  viewing  it  in  its  rule,  in  conformity  whereto  it 
stands ;  which  must  needs  be  some  law  of  God.     There 

Mollenis  thinks  it  ought  not  to  be  restrained  to  life  eternal,  hut  saith,  some  un- 
dc-stand  of  the  glory,  qua  nmahuntur  pii  in  \'ita  fetema  And  adds, — etquidem 
non  male  In  — Ego  vero  et  omncs  clecfi  tui — pie  et  juste  vivimus  in  hoc  s«- 
culo,  ut  aliquando  in  fiituro  sseculovideamus  faciem  tuam,  et  easatiemur  cum 
sc  a  pulvere  terrae  e\igila\  erimus  et  reformat!  fuerimus  ad  similitudinem  Christi 
tui.    .Srb    Muiis'er  in  notis  in  loc. 

Ciuii  i-(i  ail  iiiiauinem  tuani  conditus  resurrexero.  Vatablus  :  though  he  adds, 
alii  ail  rrsurrcrTinncni  non  reterunt. 

De  liitm-i  ^]l.•l■  frlicitate^ait,  satiabor  quum  expergiscnr,  i.  e.  quum  resurgam 
e  mortui-i—lSimilitudine  tua,  hoc  est  videbo  de  perfecti.ssime,  sicuti  es  ;  et  Sinii- 
lis  ero  fibi  qiuim  patefactus  Christus  glorioso  adventu  suo.  1  John  iii.  2.  Fabrit. 
Cone,  in  Psal.  17  «lt. 

Descril)it  his  verbis  Psalmographus  beatitudenem  a»temam  filiorum  Dei.  Ges- 
nerus  in  loc. 

a  1  John  i.  9.  x  >    o .  ''1  John  iii.  4. 

c  E  ■  f5f  ci^moavvri  avAAr,pdriv  ttco'  apcr'  lart. 

d  Luke  i.  5,  6. 


Chap.  II. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS 


195 


hath  been  a  twofold  law  given  by  God  to  mankind,  as  the 
measure  of  a  universal  righteousness,  the  one  made  for  in- 
nocent, the  other  for  lapsed  man  ;  which  are  distinguished 
by  the  apostle  under  the  names  of  the  'law  of  works,  and 
the  law  of  faith.  It  can  never  be  possible,  that  any  of  the 
apostate  sons  of  Adam  should  be  denominated  righteous 
by  the  former  of  these  laws,  the  righteousness  thereof  con- 
sisting in  a  perfect  and  sinless  obedience.  The  latter  there- 
fore is  the  only  measure  and  rule  of  this  righteousness,  viz. 
the  law  of  l*aith ;  not  that  part  of  the  gospel-revelation 
which  contains  and  discovers  our  duty,  what  we  are  to  be 
and  do  in  order  to  our  blessedness  ;  being,  as  to  the  mat- 
ter of  it,  the  whole  moral  law,  before  appertaining  to  the 
covenant  of  works,  attempered  to  the  state  of  fallen  sinners, 
by  evangelical  mitigations  and  indulgence,  by  the  super- 
added precepts  of  repentance  and  faith  in  a  Mediator,  with 
all  the  other  duty  respecting  the  Mediator,  as  such ;  and 
clothed  with  a  new  form  as  it  is  now  taken  into  the  con- 
stitution of  the  covenant  of  grace.  This  rule,  though  it  be 
in  the  whole  of  it  capable  of  coming  under  one  common 
notion,  as  being  the  standing,  obliging  law  of  Christ's  me- 
diatory kingdom  ;  yet  according  to  the  different  matter  of 
it,  its  obligations  and  annexed  sanctions  are  different.  As 
to  its  matter,  it  must  be  understood  to  require : 

1.  The  mere  being  and  sincerity  of  those  gracious  prin- 
ciples, with  their  essential  acts  (as  there  is  opportunity) 
expressed  therein,  in  opposition  to  the  nullity  and  insin- 
cerity of  them. 

2.  All  the  possible  degrees  and  improvements  of  such 
principles  and  acts,  in  opposition  to  any  the  least  failure 
or  defect.  In  the  former  respect,  it  measures  the  very 
essence  of  this  righteousness,  and  enjoins  what  concerns 
the  being  of  the  righteous  man  as  such.  In  the  latter,  it 
measures  all  the  super-added  degrees  of  this  righteousness, 
(which  relations,  where  they  have  a  mutable  foundation, 
admit,)  enjoining  what  concerns  the  perfection  of  the  right- 
eous man.  In  the  former  respect,  righteousness  is  opposed 
to  wickedness,  as  in  that  of  the  Psalmist,  fl  have  kept  the 
ways  of  the  Lord,  and  have  not  wickedly  departed  from 
my  God — therefore  hath  the  Lord  recompensed  me  ac- 
cording to  my  righteousness.  In  the  latter  to  sin,  with 
which  the  apostle  makes  unrighteousness  co-extent,  in 
these  words.  If  we  say  we  have  no  sin,  we  deceive  our- 
selves, &c.  If  we  confess  our  sins,  he  is  faithful  and  just 
to  forgive  us  our  sins,  and  to  cleanse  us  from  all  unrighte- 
ousness. Accordingly  are  its  sanctions  divers.  For  wherein 
itenjoins  the  former  of  these,  the  essence  of  this  righteous- 
ness, in  opposition  to  a  total  absence  thereof,  it  is  consti- 
tutive of  the  terms  of  salvation,  and  obligeth  under  the 
penalty  of  eternal  death.  So  are  faith,  repentance,  love, 
subjection,  &c.  required :  "If  ye  believe  not  that  I  am  he, 
ye  shall  die  in  your  sins.  He  that  believeth  not  is  con- 
demned already. — The  wrath  of  God  abideth  on  him. — hlf 
ye  repent  not,  ye  shall  all  likewise  perish.  iRepent,  that 
your  sins  may  be  blotted  out  — Him  hath  God  exalted  to 
be  a  prince  and  a  Saviour,  to  give  repentance  and  remission 
of  sins,  klf  any  man  love  not  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  let 
him  be  anathema  maran-atha.  iHe  that  loveth  father  or 
mother  more  than  me,  is  not  worthy  of  me,  &c.  "'If  any 
man  come  to  me,  and  hate  not  his  father  and  mother,  and 
wife  and  children,  and  brethren  and  sisters,  yea,  and  his 
own  life  also,  (that  is,  as  the  former  scripture  expounds 
this,  loves  them  not  less  than  me,)  he  cannot  be  my  dis- 
ciple ;  i.  e.  while  he  remains  in  that  temper  of  mind  he  now 
is  of,  he  must  needs  be  wholly  unrelated  unto  me,  and 
incapable  of  benefit  by  me,  as  well  as  he  is  indocible,  and 
not  susceptible  of  my  further  instructions,  neither  capable 
of  the  precepts  or  privileges  belonging  to  discipleship.  "He 
is  the  author  of  eternal  salvation  to  all  them  that  obey  him ; 
and  will  come  in  flaming  fire  to  take  vengeance  of  those 
that  know  not  God,  and  obey  not  his  gospel ;  who  shall 
be  punished  with  everlasting  destruction  from  the  presence 
of  the  Lord,  &c.  W-.ere  it  is  only  the  sincerity  of  those 
several  requisites,  »bat  is  under  so  severe  penalty  exacted 
and  called  for  ;  ina,smuch  as  he  that  is  sincerely  a  believer, 
a  penitent,  a  lo^^r  of  God  or  Christ,  an  obedient  subject, 
is  not  capable  ol  the  contrary  denomination,  and  therefore 

f  p."!.  xviii.  21,  St  e  Rom.  iii.  27. 

^  Jolin  viii.  24.  chap.  iii.  18,  26.  h  Luke  xiii  3. 5. 

•  Acts  iii.  19.  chap.  v.  31.  k  1  Cor.  xvi.  22. 


not  liable,  according  to  the  tenor  of  this  law,  to  be  pun- 
ished as  an  infidel,  an  impenitent  person,  an  enemy,  a  rebel. 

When  it  enjoins  the  latter,  viz.  all  the  subsequent  duty, 
through  the  whole  course  whereof  the  already  sincere  soul 
must  be  tending  towards  perfection  ;  though  it  bind  not 
thereto  under  pain  of  damnation,  further  than  as  such  neg- 
lects and  miscarriages  may  be  so  gross  and  continued,  as 
not  to  consist  with  sincerity,  yet  such  injunctions  are  not 
wholly  without  penalty;  but  here  it  obliges,  under  less 
penalties,  the  hiding  of  God's  face,  and  other  paternal  se- 
verities and  castigations.  They  that  thus  only  offend,  "are 
chastened  of  the  Lord,  that  they  may  not  be  condemned 
with  the  world.  Their  iniquity  is  visited  with  the  rod,  and 
their  transgression  with  stripes,  though  loving-kindness  be 
not  taken  away. — Yea,  and  while  they  are  short  of  perfect 
holiness,  their  blessedness  is  imperltect  also  ;  which  is  to 
be  acknowledged  a  very  grievous  penalty,  but  unconceiv- 
ably  short  of  w-hat  befalls  them  that  are  simply  unrighte- 
ous. That  it  obliges  thus  diversely,  is  evident ;  for  it  doth 
not  adjudge  unto  eternal  death  without  remedy,  for  'he 
least  defect ;  for  then  what  other  law  should  relieve  against 
the  sentence  of  this  1  or  wherein  were  this  a  relieving  law  1 
Yet  doth  it  require  perfection,  that  we  Pperfect  holiness  in 
the  fear  of  God  ;  that  we  be  perfect  as  our  Father  in 
heaven  is  perfect.  And  otherAvise,  did  it  bind  to  no  other 
duty  than  what  it  makes  simply  necessary  to  salvation  ; 
the  defects  and  miscarriages  that  consist  with  sincerity 
were  no  sins,  not  being  provided  against  by  any  law  that 
is  of  present  obligation  (unless  we  will  have  the  law  of  na- 
ture to  stand  by  itself  as  a  distinct  law,  both  from  that  of 
works,  and  of  grace ;  which  is  not  necessary ;  but  as  it  did 
at  first  belong  to  the  former,  so  it  doth  now  to  the  latter, 
as  shall  further  be  shown  by  an'  oy.)  For  to  suppose  the 
law  of  works  in  its  own  proper  form  and  tenor,  to  be  still 
obliging,  is  to  suppose  all  under  hopeless  condemnation, 
inasmuch  as  all  have  sinned.  And  besides,  it  should  oblige 
to  cast  off  all  regard  to  Christ,  and  to  seek  blessedness 
without  him ;  yea,  and  it  should  oblige  to  a  natural  im- 
possibility, to  a  contradiction,  to  make  that  not  to  have 
been,  which  hath  been  ;  a  sinner  to  seek  happiness  by 
never  having  sinned.  It  cannot  therefore  entirely,  in  its 
own  form,  as  it  was  at  first  made  and  laid  upon  man,  be 
of  present  and  continuing  obligation  to  him.  But  in  what 
part  and  respect  it  is,  or  is  not,  comes  now  more  distinctly 
to  be  shown.  Here  know,  the  law  of  nature,  with  fit  ad- 
ditionals,  became  one  formed  constitution  ;  which  being 
violated  by  the  apostacy,  became  unuseful  to  the  end  it 
was  made  for,  the  containing  of  man  within  the  bounds  of 
such  duty  as  should  be  conjunct  with  his  ble.sseilness. 
Therefore  was  the  new  constitution  of  the  law  of  grace 
made  and  settled,  which  alters,  adds  to,  takes  from  it,  re- 
laxes, or  re-enforces  it,  according  as  the  matter  of  it,  the 
exigency  of  man's  case,  and  God's  gracious  purpose  and 
design,  could  admit,  and  did  require.  For  the  promise, 
(implied  in  the  threatening)  it  ceased ;  sin  having  disobliged 
the  promiser.  For  the  precept,  the  expressed  positive  part 
is  plainly  abrogated. i  For  the  natural  part,  as  it  was  not 
necessary,  so  nor  was  it  possible  it  should  be  so  ;  its  tbunda- 
tions  being  more  stable  than  heaven  and  earth.  For  the 
commination,  we  must  understand  two  things  in  it :  first, 
that  for  every  transgression,  a  proportionable  punishment 
must  become  due  :  secondly,  that  this  debt  be  in  event 
exacted;  or,  that  God  do  actually  inflict  the  deserved 
penally  entirely  and  fully  upon  the  oft'ending  person. 

The  former  of  these  is  in  the  strictest  and  most  proper 
sense  natural,  and  therefore  also  unalterable.  This  dueness 
arising  immediately  from  the  relation  of  a  reasonable  crea- 
ture offending,  to  his  Maker.  Whence  also  it  is  discern- 
ible to  mere  natural  light.  Pagans  are  said  (Rom.  i.  3'2.) 
to  have  known  the  righteous  judgment  of  God,  that  they 
who  commit  such  things  (as  are  there  mentioned) are  worthy 
of  death.  And  hence  was  the  mention  and  dread  of  a 
Nemesis,  and  an  ti^ifcnv  oftfia.  a  vindictive  Deity,  and  a  re- 
vengeful eye,  over  them,  so  frequent  with  them.  "  If  there- 
fore (as  the  learned  Grolius  speaks')  there  hail  never  been  a 
penal  law ;  yet  a  human  act,  having  in  it.>;elf  a  pravity, 
whether  intrinsical,  from  the  immutable  nature  of  the  thing,- 

1  Matt.  X.  37.         m  Luke  .viv.  56.        n  Hfb.  v.  9.    S  Thes.  1,  S.  9.  &c. 
o  I  Cor.  >i.    Psol.  Ixxxix.  p  2  Cur.  vii.  1.    IVIau.  v. 

q  1  Tim.  ir.  4.  r  Dc  Satisf.  cap.  3. 


19G 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


Chap.  II. 


or  even  extrinsical,  from  the  contrary  command  of  God, 
had  deserved  punishmem,  and  that  very  grievous."  Now 
what  an  arbitrary  constitution  did  not  create,  it  could  not 
nullify ;  but  might  add  strength,  and  give  a  confirmation 
to  ii.  But  now  for  the  latter,  that  this  debt  be  entirely 
and  fully  exacted  of  the  sinner  himself;  though  that  be 
also  natural,  yet  not  in  the  strictest  and  most  proper  sense, 
i.  e.  it  is  convenient  and  agreeable  to  the  nature  of  the 
thing ;  not  what  it  doth  so  necessarily  require,  that  it  can 
upon  no  terms  be  dispensed  with.  It  is  so  natural,  as  that^ 
the  son  inherit  from  his  father,  which  yet  may,  sometimes, 
for  just  causes  be  ordered  otherwise.  It  is  what,  if  it  were 
done,  justice  could  not  but  approve ;  not  what  it  doth 
strictly  and  indispensably  require  ;  or,  is  a  debt  which  it 
might  exact,  but  which  may,  without  injustice,  upon  valu- 
able considerations  be  remitted.  The  former  of  these,  there- 
fore, the  new  constitution  doth  no  way  infringe  or  weaken, 
but  confirm  and  reinforce.  The  latter  it  so  far  dispenses 
with,  as  that,  for  the  satisfaction  made  by  the  Redeemer, 
the  debt  incurred  by  sin,  be  remitted  to  the  sinner  that 
truly  repents  and  believes,  and  continues  sincerely  (though 
imperfectly)  to  obey  for  the  future.  So  that  his  after-de- 
linquencies, consisting  with  such  sincerity,  do  not  actu- 
ally, or  in  event,  subject  him  to  other  penalties,  than  the 
paternal  rebukes  and  chastenings  before  mentioned.  But 
this  latter  part  considerable  in  the  commination,  the  deter- 
mination of  the  full  penalty  to  the  very  person  of  the 
transgressor  :  it  doth  not  dispense  with  to  others  (i.  e.  of 
the  adult,  and  of  persons  in  a  present  natural  possibility 
of  understanding  the  Lawgiver's  pleasure  herein)  than 
such  before  described  ;  but  says  expressly,'  He  that  be- 
lieveth  not  the  Son,  shall  not  see  life,  but  the  wrath  of 
God  abideth  on  him.  That  indignation  and  wrath,  tribu- 
lation and  anguish,  shall  be  upon  every  soul  of  man  that 
doth  evil. 

Therefore  the  morally  preceptive  part  of  the  law  of  works 
is  not  in  force  as  man's  rule  of  duty,  considered  in  con- 
junction with  the  promise:  that  is,  it  doth  not  now  say  to 
any  man,  Do  this,  i.  e.  perfectly  obey  without  ever  hav- 
ing sinned,  that  thou  may'st  live.  Both  which  he  was 
obliged  to  eye  conjunctly;  the  former  as  containing  the 
rule ;  the  other  the  end,  in  part,  of  his  obedience.  But  it  is 
m  force  even  by  the  new  constitution  itself,  as  God's  rule 
of  judgment,  considered  in  conjunction  with  the  commina- 
tion, upon  all  whom  the  law  of  grace  relieves  not,  as  not 
coining  up  to  the  terms  of  it;  whom  also  this  supervening 
law  brings  under  a  supervening  aggravated  condemnation. 
For  where  the  obligation  to  obedience  is  violated,  the  obli- 
gation to  punishment  naturally  takes  place.  We  see  then 
how  far  the  law' of  works  is  in  force,  and  how  far  not.  But 
that  so  far  as  it  is  in  force,  it  is  to  be  looked  on  as  taken 
into  the  new  constitution  of  the  law  of  grace,  is  evident. 
For  it  is  new  modified,  and  hath  received  a  new  mould 
and  stamp  by  this  law  :  which  is  now  become  (so  far  as  it 
is  promulgate)  the  standing  rule  of  government  over  the 
lapsed  world.  The  principal  modifying  act  herein,  is  dis- 
pensation. Now  this,  'tis  true,  may  be  so  understood,  or 
may  be  taken  in  such  a  sense,  as  wherein  it  will  only  be- 
long to  the  executive  part  of  government :  that  is,  when  it 
is  not  the  act  of  the  same  power  that  made  the  law  ;  as 
where  only  the  execution  of  a  deserved  penalty  is  dispensed 
with,  which  may  be  done,  in  some  cases,  by  a  judge  that 
is  only  a  minister  of  the  law,  and  not  the  maker  of  it; 
being  (as  may  be  supposed)  enabled  thereto  by  that  law 
itself,  or  by  an  authority  annexed  to  his  office  ;  or  by  virtue 
of  instructions,  which  leave  to  him  some  latitude  of  man- 
aginglhe  afTairsof  his  judicaturein  a  discretionary  way, as 
present  occasions  shall  dictate.  And  yet  by  none  of  these 
would  any  change  be  made  in  the  laM^ :  but  this  is  dispen- 
sation in  a  le.ss  proper  sense.  In  the  proper  and  more 
famous  sense,  dispensation  belongs  to  the  legislative  part 
of  government,  being  the  act  of  the  same  power  that  made 
the  former  law,  now  dispensed  with  ;  and  an  act  of  the 
same  kind,  viz.  legislation  ;  the  making  of  a  new  law  that 
alters  the  former  which  it  halh  relation  to:  whence  it  was 
wont  to  be  reckoned  among  those  things  that  make  a 
change  in  a  law."  And  so  the  case  is  here.  The  former 
law  is  dispensed  with  by  the  making  of  a  new  one;  which 


a  Grot  Iliid. 

u  Vid.  Suarez  de  Legibiis. 


t  John  iii.  36.  Rom.  ii.  8.  9. 
V  Matt.  V  22. 


so  alters  and  changes  it  in  its  matter  and  frame,  and  more 
immediate  end,  as  hath  been  shown:  and  a  changed  law 
is  not  the  same. 

Nor  is  it  at  all  strange,  that  the  minatory  part  of  the  law 
of  works  related  to  the  preceptive,  so  as  with  it  to  constitute 
the  debt  of  punishment,  should  be  now  within  the  compass 
of  the  Redeemer's  law.  For  by  this  applied  and  urged 
on  the  consciences  of  sinners,  he  performs  a  necessary  pre- 
paratory part  of  his  work  for  their  recovery,  riz.  the  awa- 
kening, the  humbling  them  ;  and  reducing  them  to  a  just 
and  useful  despair  of  relief  and  help,  otherwise  than  by 
his  merciful  hand  and  vouchsafement ;  and  the  rendering 
them  hereby  capable  of  his  following  applications.  Cutting 
or  lancing,  with  other  such  severities,  are  as  proper  and 
useful  a  part  of  the  chirurgeon's  business,  as  the  applying 
of  healing  medicines:  nor  have  they  the  same  design  and 
end  for  which  wounds  are  inflicted  by  an  enemy,  the  taking 
away  of  life,  but  the  .saving  of  it.  And  the  matter  is  out 
of  doubt,  that  the  most  rigorous  determination  of  the  pen- 
alty that  shall  be  understood  duly  belonging  to  the  least 
sin,  hath  a  place,  and  doth  stand  visibly  extant  to  view  in 
the  publicly  avowed  declaration,  and  among  the  placita 
or  decretals  of  the  Redeemer.  We  there  read,  that  who- 
soever shall  say  to  his  brother,"  fool,  shall  be  in  danger  of 
hell-fire  :  (yea,  and  that  lower  degrees  of  the  same  kind 
of  sin,  do  expose  to  lower  degrees  of  the  same  kind  of  pun- 
ishment, as  our  Saviour's  words  must  be  understood,  if  we 
attend  the  plain  meaning  of  his  allusive  and  borrowed 
phrase  of  speech  :)  *That  the  wages  of  sin  is  death.  That 
as  many  as  are  of  the  works  of  the  law,  are  under  the 
curse:  for  it  is  written.  Cursed  is  every  one  that  continueth 
not  in  all  things  written  in  the  book  of  the  law  to  do  them. 
And  we  are  told,^  that  the  Scripture  (which  is  the  word  uf 
Christ,  and  was  written  not  for  innocent  but  lapsed  man) 
hath  concluded  all  under  sin.  Where  also  we  find  what 
is  the  true  intent  and  end  of  this  rough  and  sharp  dealing 
with  men,  the  shutting  them  up,  like  sentenced  malefac- 
tors, as  in  order  to  execution,  (which  seems  to  be  the  im- 
port of  the  word  ^here  used,)  viz.  that  the  promise  by  faith 
of  Jesus  Christ  might  be  given  to  them  that  believe  (or  to 
them  believing,  as  the  words  may  be  read.)  And  more- 
over the  Spirit,  which  breathes  not  in  the  law  of  works, 
as  such,  but  in  the  law  of  grace,  performs  that  operation 
which  belongs  to  it,  as  it  hath  the  name  of  the  spirit  of 
bondage,  by  applying  and  binding  on  the  sentence  of  death, 
as  due  to  the  guilty  person. 

Therefore  we  must  understand  the  Redeemer's  consti- 
tution to  have  two  parts.  1.  An  assertion  and  establish- 
ment of  the  ancient  determined  penalty  due  for  every 
transgression  ;  and  to  be  certainly  inflicted  on  all  such  as 
accept  not  the  following  offer  of  mercy  upon  the  terms 
prescribed.  Whereby  the  honour  and  justice  of  the  Cre- 
ator is  salved  and  vindicated,  in  reference  to  that  first  co- 
venant made  with  man.  And  the  case  of  the  sinner  is 
plainly  stated  before  him,  that  he  may  have  a  distinct  and 
right  apprehension  of  it.  2.  The  grant  of  pardon  and 
eternal  life  to  those  that  repent  unfeignedly  of  their  sins,  and 
turn  to  God ;  believing  in  the  Mediator,  and  resigning 
themselves  to  his  grace  and  government,  to  be  by  him  con- 
ducted, and  made  acceptable  to  God  in  their  return,  and 
that  continue  sincere  herein  to  the  end.  Whereby  the  won- 
derful mercy  of  God  in  Christ  is  demonstrated,  and  the 
remedy  is  provided  and  ascertained  to  the,  otherwise,  lost 
and  hopeless  sinner.  And  these  two  parts  therefore  are  to 
be  looked  on  in  this  constitution,  though  distinctly,  yet  not 
separately.  The  sinner  is,  at  once,  to  consider  the  same 
penalty  as  naturally,  and  by  divine  sanction,  due  to  him  ; 
but  now  graciou.sly  to  be  remitted  :  the  same  blessedness 
as  justly  lost,  but  mercifully  to  be  restored,  with  a  high 
improvement.  And  to  own  both  these  jointly,  as  the  voice 
of  the  Redeemer  in  his  gospel.  Death  is  due  to  thee; 
blessedness  forfeited  by  thy  having  sinned ;  but  if  thou 
sincerely  repent,  believe,  and  obey  for  the  future,  thou  art 
pardoned,  and  entitled  to  everlasting  life. 

It  therefore  now  appears,  that  as  the  law  or  dictates  of 
pure  nature,  comprehended  together  with  other  fit  addi- 
tionals,  became  at  first  one  entire  constituti(m  aptly  suited 
to  the  government  of  man  in  his  innocent  state,  unto  which 


w  Rom  vi  23.    Gal.  iii.  10. 
X  Vers?  22. 


y  avvetycictv.    Ibid. 


Chap.  II. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


197 


the  title  did  well  agree  of  the  law  or  covenant  of  works  ; 
so  the  same  natural  dictates,  transcribed  and  made  express, 
(because  now  sullied,  and  not  so  legible  in  the  corrupted 
nature  of  man,)  do,  with  such  allays  and  additions  as  the 
case  required,  compose  and  make  up  the  constitution  which 
bears  the  title  of  the  law  or  covenant  of  grace,  or  the  law 
of  faith,  or  the  gospel  of  Christ,  and  is  only  suitable  to  the 
state  of  man  lapsed  and  fallen ;  as  the  measure  of  that 
righteousness  which  he  is  now  to  aim  at,  and  aspire  unto. 
The  rule  of  this  righteousness  therefore  being  evidently  the 
law  of  faith,  the  gospel  revelation,  wherein  it  is  perceptive 
of  duty;  this  righteousness  can  be  understood  to  be  no- 
thing but  the  impress  of  the  gospel  upon  a  man's  heart  and 
life:  a  conformity  in  spirit  and  practice  to  the  revelation 
of  the  will  of  God  in  Jesus  Christ ;  a  collection  of  graces 
exerting  themselves  in  suitable  actions  and  deportments 
towards  God  and  man  ;  Christ  formed  in  the  soul,  or  put 
on  ;  the  new  creature  in  its  being  and  operations ;  the 
truth  learned  as  it  is  in  Jesus,  to  the  putting  of!"  the  old 
man,  and  the  putting  on  the  new.  More  distinctly,  we 
may  yet  see  wheiein  it  lies,  upon  a  premised  view  of  some 
few  things  necessary  to  be  fore-known  in  order  thereunto. 
As,  That  this  righteousness  is  a  renewing  righteousness, 
or  the  righteousness  of  one  formerly  a  sinner,  a  lapsed 
perishing  wretch,  who  is  by  it  restored  into  such  a  state 
towards  God,  as  he  was  in  before  that  lapse  (in  respect 
of  certain  great  essentials,  though  as  yet  his  state  be 
not  so  perfectl}^  good,  while  he  is  in  his  tendency  and 
motion ;  and  shall,  by  certain  additionals,  be  unspeak- 
ably better,  when  he  hath  attained  the  end  and  rest  he  is 
tending  to.) 

That  a  reasonable  creature,  yet  untainted  with  sin, 
could  not  but  have  a  temper  of  mind  suitable  to  such 
apprehensions  as  these,  fiz.  That  as  it  was  not  the  author 
of  being  to  itself,  so  it  ought  not  principalh'  to  study  the 
pleasing  and  serving  of  itself,  but  him  who  gave  it  being ; 
that  it  can  no  more  continue  and  perfect  itself  unto 
blessedness,  than  it  could  create  itself;  and  can  therefore 
have  no  expectation  hereof,  but  from  the  same  author  of 
its  being ;  and  hence,  that  it  must  respect  and  eye  the  great 
Grod-,  its  Creator  and  Maker,  as — the  sovereign  authority 
whom  it  was  to  fear  and  obey,  and — the  sovereign  good 
whom  it  was  to  love  and  enjoy.  But  because  it  can  per- 
form no  duty  to  him,  without  knowing  what  he  will  have 
it  to  do;  nor  have  any  particular  expectation  of  favours 
from  him,  without  knowing  what  he  will  please  to  bestow; 
and  is  therefore  obliged  to  attend  to  the  revelations  of  his 
will  concerning  both  these;  it  is  therefore  necessary,  that 
he  eye  him  under  a  notion  introductive  and  subservient 
to  all  the  operations  that  are  to  be  exerted  towards  him, 
under  the  two  former  notions ;  i.  e.  as  the  eternal  never- 
failing  trvth,  safely  to  be  depended  on,  as  intending  no- 
thing of  deceit  in  anj'  the  revelations,  whether  of  his  right- 
eous will,  concerning  matter  of  duty  to  be  done;  or  of 
his  good  will,  concerning  matter  of  benefit  to  be  expected 
and  enjoyed:  That  man  did  apostatize  and  revolt  from 
God,  as  considered  under  these  several  notions;  and  re- 
turns to  him,  when  a  holy  rectitude  is  recovered,  and  he 
again  becomes  righteous,  considered  rmder  the  same :  That 
it  was  not  agreeable  to  God's  wisdom,  truth,  and  legal 
justice,  to  treat  with  man  a  sinner  in  order  to  his  recovery, 
but  through  a  mediator ;  and  that  therefore  he  was  pleased 
in  wonderful  mercy  to  constitute  and  appoint  his  own  Son 
Jesus  Christ,  God-man,  unto  that  office  and  undertaking  ; 
that  through  him,  man  might  return  and  be  reconciled  to 
himself,  whom  he  causelessly  forsook  ;  designing  that  he 
shall  now  become  so  affected  towards  himself,  through  the 
Mediator ;  and  firstly  therefore  towards  the  Mediator's  own 
person,  as  he  was  before,  and  ought  to  have  been  towards 
himself  immediately. 

Therefore,  whereas  God  was  considerable  in  relation  to 
man,  both  in  his  innocency  and  apostacy,  under  that  fore- 
mentioned  twofold  notion  of  the  supreme  authority  and 
goodness ;  he  hath  also  set  up  and  exalted  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  and  represented  him  to  sinners  under  an  answerable 
twofold  notion  of  a  Prince  and  a  Saviour;  i.  e.  a  medi- 
ating Prince  and  Saviour;  to  give  repentance  first,  to  bow 
and  stoop  the  hearts  of  sinners,  and  reduce  them  to  a  sub- 
ject posture  again ;  and  then  by  remission  of  sins  to  restore 
iRom.  av.  IT.  a  PhiJ.  i.  11. 

17 


I  them  to  favour,  and  save  them  from  the  wrath  to  come. 
i  Him  hath  the  father  clothed  with  his  own  authority,  and 
I  filled  with  his  grace;  requiring  sinners  to  submit  them- 
selves to  his  ruling  power,  and  commit  themselves  to  his 
saving  mercy ;  now  both  lodged  in  this  his  Son :  to  pay 
him  immediatclij  all  homage  and  obedience,  and  through 
him  idtimo.ldij  \o  hirnst-lf;  from  him  immediately  to  ex- 
pect salvation  and  blessedness,  and  through  him  ultimately, 
from  himself.  That  whereas  the  spirits  of  men  are  not  to 
be  wrought  to  this  temper,  but  by  the  intervention  of  a 
discover^'  and  revelation  of  the  Divine  will  to  this  purpose ; 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  is  further  appointed  by  the  Father 
to  reveal  all  this  his  counsel  to  sinners,  and  is  eminently 
spoken  of  in  Scripture  upon  this  account,  under  the  notion 
of  the  truth ;  in  which  capacity  he  more  effectually  recom- 
mends to  sinners  both  his  authority  and  his  grace.  So  that 
his  threefold  (so  much  celebrated)  office  of  King,  Priest, 
and  Prophet,  (the  distinct  parts  of  his  general  office  as 
mediator,)  which  he  manages  in  order  to  the  reducement 
of  lost  sinners,  exactly  correspond  (if  you  consider  the  more 
eminent  acts  and  properties  of  each  office)  to  that  threefold 
notion  under  which  the  spirit  of  man  must  always  have 
eyed  and  been  .acted  towards  God,  had  he  never  fallen  : 
and  hence  this  righteousness,  which  consists  in  conformity 
to  the  go.spel,  is  the  former  righteousness,  which  was  lost ; 
with  such  an  accession  as  is  necessary,  upon  considera- 
tion that  it  was  lost,  and  was  only  to  be  recovered  by  a 
mediator. 

Therefore  you  may  now  take  this  short  and  as  compen- 
dious an  account  as  I  can  give  of  it,  in  what  follows.  Il 
includes  so  firm  and  imderstanding  an  assent  to  the  truth 
of  the  whole  gospel  revelation,  as  that  the  soul  is  thereby 
brought,  through  the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  sensibly 
to  apprehend  its  former  di.sobedience  to  God,  and  distance 
from  him,  the  reasonableness  of  subjection  to  him,  and  de- 
sirableness of  blessedness  in  him;  the  necessity  of  a  Re- 
deemer to  reconcile  and  recover  it  to  God ;  the  accomplish- 
ments and  designation  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  to  that 
purpose  :  and  hence,  a  penitent  and  complaccntial  return 
to  God,  as  the  supreme  authority  and  sovereign  good,  an 
humble  and  jovful  acceptance  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  as 
its  Prince  and  Saviour,  with  submission  to  his  authoritj^, 
and  reliance  on  his  grace;  (the  exercise  of  both  which  are 
founded  in  his  blood;)  looking  and  pitching  upon  him,  as 
the  only  medium,  through  which  he  and  his  duties  can 
please  God,  or  God  and'his  mercies  approach  him;  and 
through  wliich  he  hath  the  confidence  lo  venture  upon  a 
covenant  acceptance  of  God,  and  surrender  of  himself  to 
him,  afterward  pursued  to  his  uttermost,  by  a  continiied 
course  of  living  in  his  fear  and  love,  in  obedience  to  him, 
and  communion  with  him  through  the  Mediator;  always, 
while  he  is  passing  the  time  of  his  pilgrimage  in  this  world, 
groaning  under  remaining  sin,  and  pressing  after  perfect 
holiness  ;  with  an  earnest  expectation  (animating  him  to  a 
persevering  patience  through  all  difficulties)  of  a  blessed 
eternity  in  the  other  world.  That  such  a  conformity  to  the 
gospel'should  be  expressed  by  the  name  of  righteousness, 
cannot  seem  strange  to  such  as  acquaint  themselves  with 
the  language  of  the  Scripture.  That  gracious  frame  which 
the  gospel  (made  effectual)  impresses  upon  the  soul,  is  the 
kingdom  of  God,  in  the  passive  notion  of  it,  his  kingdom 
received,  and  now  actually  come  with  power  upon  our 
spirits.  And  this  kingdom  (sometimes  also  by  an  am  s}-nec- 
doche  called  judgment  in  the  same  notion)  is  .said  to  con^ 
sist  in  righteousness ;  whence  then  result  also,^  peace  and 
joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost.  The  same  holy  impressions  and 
consequent  operations  are  mentioned  by  the  apostle  under 
the  name  of^*  fruits  of  righteousness,  wherewith  he  prays 
his  Philippians  might  be  filled.  It  was  Elvmas's  opposi- 
tion to  the  gospel,  that  stigmatized  him  with  that  brand, 
"  Thou  enemy  of  all  righteousness."  To  yield  ourselves 
servants  to  righteousness,  in  opposition  to  a  former  servi- 
tude to  sin,  is"b  obeying  from  the  heart  the  doctrine  of  the 
o-ospel  into  the  type  or  mould  whereof  we  have  been  cast 
or  delivered.  And  sure,  both  the  seal  and  the  impression, 
God's  revelation  and  holiness,  (however  now  more  explicit 
and  distinctlv  conspicuous  in  all  their  parts.)  are  the  same, 
with  us  substantiallv,  and  in  David's  time:  whence  wa 
need  make  no  difficiilty  to  own  this  latter,  when  we  meet 
b  Rom.  \i.  17. 


199 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


Chap.  III. 


with  it,  as  here,  under  the  same  name.  By  what  hath 
hitherto  been  said,  it  may  be  already  seen  in  part,  how 
exactly  this  righteousness  corresponds  to  the  blessedness 
for  which  it  qualities;  whereof  we  shall  have  occasioa 
hereafter  to  take  further  notice.  ■  In  the  meantime,  it  will 
be  requisite  to  show,  which  was  promised  to  be  done  in 
the  next  place. 

How  it  qualifies.  To  which  I  say  (very  briefly)  that  it 
qualifies  for  this  blessedness  two  ways : 

1.  Legally,  or  in  gencre  Morali,  as  it  describes  the  per- 
sons, who  by  the  gospel-grant  have,  alone,  title  thereunto. 
— <=  The  righteous  into  life  eternal.— The  imrighteous  shall 
not  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God.  Say  to  the  righteous  it 
shall  be  well  with  them.  The  righteousness  of  the  righte- 
ous shall  be  upon  him. — In  his  righteousness  he  shall  live. 
In  which  last  words,  how  this  righteousness  conduceth  to 
life,  is  expressed  by  the  same  preposition  as  in  the  text. 
In  this  kind  it  is  not  at  all  casual  of  this  blessedness,  but  'tis 
that  which  the  free,  and  wise,  and  holy  Law-giver  thought 
meet,  by  his  settled  constitution,  (besides  what  necessity 
there  is  of  it,  upon  another  account,)  to  make  requisite 
thereto.  The  conformity  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  to  that 
severer  law,  under  which  he  is  said  to  have  been  made,  is 
that  which  alone  causes,  merits,  purchases,  this  blessed- 
ness ;  which  yet  is  to  be  enjoyed,  not  by  all  indiscrhnina- 
tim,  or  without  distinction,  but  by  such  alone,  as  come  up 
to  the  terms  of  the  gospel ;  as  he  did  fully  satisfy  the 
strict  exactions  of  that  other  rigid  law,  by  doing  and  suffer- 
ing for  their  sakes. 

2.  Naturally,  or  in  gencre  Physico.  In  this  kind  it  may 
be  said  to  be  some  way  casual,  that  is,  to  be  a  ca.usa  male- 
rialis  disposiliva,  by  a  proper  positive  influence,  disposing 
the  siibject  unto  this  blessedness;  which  that  it  shall,  yet, 
enjoy,  is  wholly  to  be  resolved  into  the  Divine  good  plea- 
sure ;  but  it  is  put  by  this  holy  rectitude  in  that  temper  and 
posture  that  it  may  enjoy  it,  through  the  Lord's  gracious 
vouchsafement ;  when  without  it,  'twere  naturally  impossi- 
ble that  any  should.  An  unrighteous  impure  soul,  is  in  a 
natural  indisposition  to  see  God,  or  be  blessed  in  him. 
That  depraved  temper  averts  it  from  him ;  the  steady  bent 
of  its  will  is  set  another  way,  and  'tis  a  contradiction  that 
any  {in  sensu  composiio)  should  be  happy  against  their 
wills,  i.  e.  while  that  aversion  of  will  yet  remains.  The  un- 
righteous banish  themselves  from  God,  they  shun  and  hate 
his  presence.  Light  and  darkness  cannot  have  communion. 
The  sun  doth  but  shine,  continue  to  be  itself,  and  the  dark- 
ness vanishes,  and  is  fled  awa}'.  When  God  hath  so  de- 
termined, that  only  the  pure  in  heart  shall  see  him ;  that 
\vithout  holiness  none  shall ;  he  lays  no  other  law  upon 
unholy  souls,  than  what  their  own  impure  nature  lay  upon 
themselves.  If  therefore  it  should  be  inquired,  Why  may 
not  the  unrighteous  be  subjects  of  this  blessedness,  see 
God,  and  be  satisfied  with  his  likeness,  as  well  as  the 
righteous  1  the  question  must  be  so  answered,  as  if  it  were 
inquired.  Why  doth  the  wood  admit  the  fire  to  pass  upon 
it,  suffer  its  flames  to  insinuate  themselves  till  they  have 
introduced  its  proper  form,  and  turned  it  into  their  own 
likeness  ;  but  we  see  water  doth  not  so,  but  violently  re- 
sists its  first  approaches,  and  declines  all  commerce  with 
it  7  The  natures  of  these  agree  not.  And  is  not  the  con- 
trariety here  as  great  1  We  have  then  the  qualified  subject 
of  this  blessedness,  and  are  next  to  consider  this  blessed- 
ness itself. 


CHAPTER  III. 

The  nature  of  this  blessedness,  propoundetl  unto  consideration,  in  the  three 
ingredients  (here  mentioned)  whereof  it  consists.  1.  Vision  of  God's  face. 
2.  Assimilation  to  him.  3.  The  satisfaction  resulting  thence.  These  pro- 
pounded to  be  considered,  1.  Absolutely  and  singly  each  by  itself.  2.  Rela- 
tively, in  their  mutual  respects  to  each  other.  The  first  of  these,  Vision  of 
God's  face,  discoursed  of    I.  The  object.    2.  The  act. 

Now  for  the  nature  of  this  blessedness,  or  the  inquir}^ 
wherein  it  lies,  so  far  as  the  text  gives  us  any  account  of 
it,  we  are  invited  to  tuiTi  our  thoughts  and  discourse  to  it. 
And  we  have  it  here  represented  to  us  in  all  the  particulars 
that  can  be  supposed  to  have  any  nearer  interest  in  the 

r  Matt.  XXV.     1  Cor  vi.    Isa.  iii.     Ezek.  x\iii. 

d  Numb,  xli  8.    Etseh  i.  28.    Exod.  xxiiv.  xxxv  &c. 


business  of  blessedness,  or  to  be  more  intimate  and  intrin- 
sical  thereimto.  For  (the  beatific  object  supposed)  what 
more  can  be  necessary  to  actual,  complete,  formal  blessed- 
ness, than  the  sight  of  it,  an  adaptation  or  assimilation  to 
it,  (which  is  nothing  else  but  its  being  actually  communi- 
cated and  imparted  to  the  soul,  its  being  united  and  made 
as  it  were  one  with  it,)  and  the  complacential  fruition  the 
soul  hath  of  it  so  communicated,  or  having  so  transformed 
it  into  itself. 

And  these  three  are  manifestly  contained  in  the  text:  (the 
beatific  object  being  involved  with  them :)  the  first  in  the 
former  cause,  "  I  shall  behold  thy  face;"  the  second  and 
third  in  the  latter,  "  I  shall  be  satisfied  with  thy  likeness ;" 
where,  being  made  like  to  God  hath  been  discovered  to  be 
supposed ;  and  the  satisfaction,  the  pleasant  contentful  re- 
lishes consequent  thereto,  plainly  expressed.  We  shall 
therefore  have  stated  the  entire  nature  of  this  blessedness 
in  the  handling  of  these  three  things ; — vision  of  the  face 
of  God, — participation  of  his  likeness,  and — satisfaction 
therein. 

And  I  shall  choose  to  consider  them,  1.  Absolutely,  and 
singly,  each  by  itself.  2.  Relatively,  in  the  mutual  respects 
(by  way  of  influence  and  dependence)  they  may  be  found 
to  have  towards  each  other. 

Therefore  first,  in  the  absolute  consideration  of  them 
severally,  we  begin  with. 

First,  the  \ision  of  God's  face,  where — the  object,  the 
face  of  God,  and — the  act  of  seeing  and  beholding  it,  are 
distinctly  to  be  spoken  to. 

1.  The  face  of  God,  the  object  of  this  vision, -w^hich  is 
his  glory  represented,  offered  to  view.  And  this  object  or 
exhibited  glory  is  twofold: — 1.  Sensible,  such  as  shall 
incur  and  gratify  (after  the  resurrection)  the  bodily  eye — 
2.  Intellectual,  or  intelligible;  that  spiritual  glory  that 
only  comes  under  the  view  and  contemplation  of  the  glo- 
rified mind. 

1.  A  sensible  glory  (to  begin  with  what  is  lower)  is 
fitly  in  our  way  to  be  taken  notice  of,  and  may  well  be 
comprehended  (as  its  less  principal  intendment)  within  the 
significancy  of  the  expression;  the  face  of  God.  So  in- 
deed it  doth  evidently  signify,  Exod.  xxxiii.  11.  And  if 
we  look  to  the  notation  of  the  word,  and  its  frequent  use 
as  applied  to  God,  it  may  commodiously  enough,  and  will 
often,  be  found  to  signify,  in  a  larger  and  more  extended 
sense,  any  aspect  or  appearance  of  God.  And  though  it 
may  be  understood,  ver.  23.  of  that  chapter,  to  signify  an 
overcoming  spiritual  glory,  as  the  principal  thing  there 
intended,  such  as  no  soul  dwelling  in  flesh  could  behold, 
without  rending  the  vail,  and  breaking  all  to  pieces;  yet, 
even  there  also,  may  such  a  degree  of  sensible  glory  be 
secondarily  intended,  as  it  was  not  consistent  with  a  state 
of  mortality  to  be  able  to  bear.  And  supposing  the  other 
expression,  "  Thy  likeness,"  to  signify,  in  any  part,  the 
objective  glory  saints  are  to  behold ;  it  is  veiy  capable  of 
being  extended  so  far,  as  to  take  in  a  sensible  appearance  of 
glory  also,  which  it  doth  in  these  words,d  "  The  similitude 
of  the  Lord  shall  he  behold:"  yet  even  that  glory  also  was 
transformative  and  impressive  of  itself:  Moses  so  long 
conversed  with  it,  till  he  became  incapable,  for  the  present, 
of  converse  with  men,  as  you  know  the  storj'  relates. 

Such  a  glory  as  this,  though  it  belong  not  to  the  being 
of  God,  yet  it  may  be  some  umbrage  of  him,  a  more  sha- 
dowy representation,  as  a  man's  garments  are  of  the  man, 
which  is  the  allusion  in  that  of  the  Psalmist,*  Thou  art 
clothed  with  majesty  and  honour  :  Thou  coverest  thyself 
with  light  as  with  a  garment.  And  inasmuch  as  that  spi- 
ritual body  (f  the  house  not  made  with  hands)  wherewith 
the  blessed  are  to  be  clothed  upon,  must  then  be  under- 
stood to  have  its  proper  sensitive?  powers  and  organs 
refined  to  that  degree,  as  may  be  agreeable  to  a  state  of 
glory ;  so  must  these  have  their  suitable  objects  to  con- 
verse with.  A  faculty  without  an  object,  is  not  possible 
in  nature,  and  is  altogether  inconsistent  with  a  state  of 
blessedness.  The  bodies  of  saints  will  beh  raised  in  glory, 
fashioned  like  Christ's  glorious  body;  must  bear  the 
image  of  the  heavenly;  and  this  will  connaturalize  them 
to  a  region  of  glory,  render  a  surrounding  sensible  glory 
necessary  and  natural  to  them,  their  own  element :  they 

e  Psal.  civ.  1,  2.  f  2  Cor.  v.  1.  g  Cuilibet  potentifp  acti\-ip  respon- 

det  passiva,  sive  objcctiva.  h  i  Cor.  w.  43.    Phil.  iii.  21. 


Chap.  III. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


199 


will,  as  it  were,  not  be  able  to  live  but  amidst  such  a 
glory.  Place  is  conservative  of  the  body  placed  in  it,  by 
its  suitableness  there.  Indeed  every  created  being  (inas- 
much as  it  is  not  self-sufficient,  and  is  obliged  to  feich  in 
continual  refreshings  from  without)  must  always  have 
somevi^hal  suitable  to  itself  to  converse  with,  or  it  presently 
languishes.  By  such  a  harmony  of  actives  and  passives, 
the  world  consists  and  holds  logether.  The  least  defect 
thereof  then,  is  least  of  all  supposablein  the  state  of  bless- 
edness. The  rays  of  such  a  glory  have  often  shone  down 
into  this  lower  world.  Such  a  glory  we  know  showed  itself 
upon  the  Mount  Sinai ;  afterwards  often  about  the  taber- 
nacle, and  in  the  temple  ;  such  a  glory  appeared  at  our 
Saviour's  birth,  baptism,  and  transfiguration  ;  and  will  do 
at  his  expected  appearance  ;  which  leaves  it  no  miimagin- 
able  thing  to  us,  and  shows  how  facile  it  is  to  God  to  (do 
that  which  will  then  be,  in  some  sort,  necessary)  create  a 
glory  meet  for  the  entertainment  and  gratification  of  any 
such  faculty,  as  he  shall  then  continue  in  being.     But, 

2.  The  intellectual  glory,  that  which  perfected  spirits 
shall  eternally  please  themselves  to  behold,  calls  for  our 
more  especial  consideration.!  This  is  the  glory  that  ex- 
celleth,  hyperbolical  glory,  as  that  expression  imports;  .such, 
as  in  comparison  whereof,  the  other  is  said  to  be  no  glory : 
as  the  apostle  speaks,  comparing  the  glory  of  the  legal  with 
that  of  the  evangelical  dispensation ;  M'here  the  former  was, 
we  must  remember,  chiefly  a  sensible  glory,  the  glory  that 
shone  upon  Mount  Sinai ;  the  latter  a  purely  spiritual 
glory  ;  and  surely,  if  the  mere  preludes  of  this  glory,  the 
primordia,  the  beginnings  of  it,  the  glory — yet  shining  but 
through  a  glass,  (as  he  there  also  speaks  of  this  glory,)  were 
so  hyperbolicaliy  glorious,  what  will  it  be  in  its  highest 
exaltation,  in  its  perfected  state  Ik  The  apostle  cannot 
speak  of  that,  but  with  hyperbole  upon  hyperbole  in  the 
next  chapter.  As  though  he  would  heap  up  words  as 
high  as  heaven  to  reach  it,  and  give  a  just  account  of  it. 
Things  are  as  their  next  originals.  This  glory  more  im- 
mediately rays  forth  from  God,  and  more  nearly  represents 
him.  'Tis  his  more  genuine  production.  He  is  styled  thei 
Father  of  glory  :  every  thing  that  is  glorious  issome  way 
like  him,  and  bears  his  image.     But  he  is  as  well  the" 

i  VKcnBaWovBiqi  So^rji.    2Cor.  iii.  10. 

k  Ka9'  V!Tcpl3o\r\v  eis  virepP >\r]ti.    2  Cor.  iv.  17. 

1  Uph.  i. 

m  Heh.  xii. 

n  Not  being  willing  to  trouWe  a  discourse  wholly  of  another  nature  and  de- 
sign with  any  thing  of  controversy,  I  have  chosen  only  to  annex  a  marginal  di- 
pression,  wherein  somewhat  to  animadvert  upon  tlie  over-bold  disputes  and  de- 
finitions of  the  scholastic  generation,  touching  what  we  have  now  under  con- 
.<;i(leratiori  .Some  of  whose  writings  seem  the  very  springs  of  the  putid  conceits 
(there  not  wanting  those,  that  are  ollicions  enough  to  serve  the  illiterate,  in 
accommodating  things  of  that  kind  to  their  genius  and  language)  so  greedily 
imbibed  hy  mcxlern  enthusiasts. 

'Tia  a  question  nnich  a;.'ilatod  among  the  school-men.  Whether  the  Divine 
essence  be  exluliitiii  to  ilic  xipwul'  \\v  blessed  in  heaven,  in  itself  immedi- 
ately, or  by  the  iiiicrvoniiun  iif  any  rn^ated  likeness  or  similitude?  Had  it 
been  agreed  to  Pirbi'ai  looking  within  this  vail,  (the  rude  attempt  whereof, 
rather  rends  than  draws  it  aside,  and  to  shut  up  all  discourse  of  this  kind)  in  a 
modest  awful  silence  ;  or  had  the  adventures  some  have  made  been  foolish  only, 
not  pernicious,  this  present  labour  had  been  sp.ircd.  Cut  when  iiiiii  speak  oi 
things  above  their  reach,  not  to  no  piirpnsf  Imirly.  but  lo  very  bad.  what  they 
say  ought  to  be  considered.  The  Di\  in,  .  --(  w,-:-.  say  Ibc  Thomists.  (and  the 
Scotist-s  here  disagree  not,)  is  itself  iiniiir<li;iii  \\  uni;ed  to  the  inlellcct  of  the 
blessed  rn  ratione  Speciei  intellisihiiis-,  -,,  w-.  ijirre  is  no  place  for  any  inter- 
vening likeness,  or  representation.  Ipia  Divhm  ensentia  fsr.  qiiir  riileliir  et 
quo  ■eidf.tur.  Thorn.  Sum.  prima  parte,  q.  12.  Art.  2.  3.  contr.  (ieiitc^.  c.  15. 
Now  they  assert  concerning  the  species  intelliglhUeii,  in  general,  that  they  have 
not  Locum  objccti,  inteVectionem  terminantes ;  (which  they  make  the  place 
and  office  of  the  verbiim  mentis  per  inteltectione^n  proOuctunt .)  but  former 
tantnm  et  actus  priinr ;  and  that  the  understanding  so  acts  liy  them,  as  fire 
by  its  proper  form.  Thorn.  Sum.  prima  parte,  q.  85.  Art.  Q.  (the  contrary 
whereto  is  asserted  by  Scotus  in  l.  Seutent.  (li.^tinct.  3,  q,  6  )  Yea,  and  Ca- 
jet,  affirms  1.  p.  <\.  "6.  Art.  1.  That  lln-  intellect  and  the  iiuelii^'jlile  species 
are  Tnore  one  than  the  matter  and  form  in  Ihr  ei)iu]iir<)tu)n.  For.  saitli  he,  (or 
to  that  purpose,  not  havinffhim  now  at  hand.)  the  matter  is  not  turned  into  the 
form,  nor  e  contra,  but  the  intellect,  which  is  in  itself  mere  power,  doth,  in 
g'evf.re  inteUicrihiH.  turn  into  its  ver,'  intellieible  object;  and  the  intelligi- 
ble object  iiself  is  after  a  certain  manner  imbibed  in  the  intellect.  So  Le- 
demm  de  Divin.  perfect,  q.  3.  Art.  5.  unum  transit  in  aliud.  exqvn  se- 
qui'ur.  quod  unum  sit  aHurt.  And  h^nce.  say  ibcy,  apiilyinrr  this  doctrine 
to  the  present  purpose,  et  secundum  i.^tum  niodum.  in  cnujunctione  ilia 
inrffabUi  divina-  essevtia-  cum  intellectu  crealo.  Jit  unum  asrens  inte- 
grum, acW.  intellecru.9  crcntu^  factus  Deu<t  mirabili  modo.  Intellccttis  in 
visione  beatijica,  est  potentia  1am  deificata.  per  lumen  s'loria:  Cajet. 
prima  parte,  q.  12.  Art.  2.  ex  I.edes.  q.  s.  Art.  8.  For  besides  this  immedi- 
ate union  of  the  Di\-ine  essence  itself  with  the  intellect,  thev  assert  a  lumen 
^InricF,.  an  accident  superadded,  without  which  the  \'ision  cannot  be  per- 
formed ;  which  additional  the  .-^colists  n-iert.  .'-ionie.  Ilion^h  thev  admit  it. 
think  the  vision  may  be  without  it.  and  that  it  doth  not  iitiplirare  contra- 
dictionem,  viKionem  hentifiram  fieri  sine  lumine  sriorifp.  cum  solo  .^peciali 
Dei  auxilio.  quod  item  n^ierunt  multi  ex  schola.it ids.  Palud.  in  1.  dist.  49. 
q.  1.  Art.  3.  Concl.  2  Thnni.  de  Arsrent.  q.  2.  Art.  1.  Maior.  q.  4.  Henr. 
qunlibet.  7.  Zu)nel.  1.  ;).  q.  12.  Art.  5.  disp.  2.  r.oncl.  3.  Ita  Onuplir.  de  rir- 
tule  prrnitentia.  Whether  there  be  any  ve.rbmn  creatmn,  the  product  of  in- 
tellection, the  Thomists  are  themselves  divided.  Their  more  connnon  opinion 
is,  that  there  is  none,  as  Lede.vna  a.osures  us  ;  telling  us  also  his  reason,  why 
he  conceives  there  can  be  none.    Beati  non  formant  vcrbum  in  videndo 


Father  of  spirits,  as  the  Father  of  glory  ;  and  that  glory 
which  is  purely  .spiritual,  hath  most  in  it  of  his  nature  and 
image  :  as  beams  but  in  the  next  descent  from  the  body  of 
the  sun.  This  is  his  un vailed  face,  and  emphatically,  the 
divine  likeness.  Again,  things  are  as  the  faculties  which 
they  are  to  exercise  and  satisfy  ;  this  glory  must  exercise 
and  satisfy  the  noblest  faculty,  of  the  most  noble  and  ex- 
cellent creature.  Intellectual  nature,  in  the  highest  im- 
provement 'tis  capable  of  in  a  creature,  must  here  be  gra- 
tified to  the  uttermost ;  the  most  enlarged  contemplative 
power  of  an  immortal  spirit  finds  that  wherein  it  termi- 
nates here,  with  a  mo.st  contentful  acquiescence.  'Tis  true 
it  must  be  understood  not  totally  to  exceed  the  capacity 
of  a,  creature,  but  it  must  fully  come  up  to  it.  Should  it 
quite  transcend  the  sphere  of  created  nature,  and  .surpass 
the  model  of  a  human  understanding,  (as  the  Divine  glory 
undoubtedly  vonld,  did  not  God  consider  us  in  the  manner 
of  exhibiting  il  to  our  view,)  it  would  confound,  not  sat- 
isfy. A  creature  even  in  glory  is  still  a  creature,  and  must 
be  treated  as  such.  After  the  blessed  God  hath  elevated 
it  to  the  highest  pitch,  he  must  infinite!}'  condescend;  it 
cannot  otherwise  know  or  converse  with  him.  He  must 
accommodate  his  glory  to  the  weaker  eye,  the  fainter  and 
more  languid  apprehensions,  of  a  poor  finite  thing.  I  had 
almost  said,  nothing;  for  what  is  any  creature,  }'ea,  the 
whole  creation  in  its  best  state,  compared  with  the  I  AM, 
the  being  (as  he  justly  appropriates  to  himself  that  name) 
the  All  in  All  1  We  must  be  careful  then  to  settle  in  our 
own  thought  such  a  state  of  this  glorj',  (in  forming  that 
indeterminate  notion  we  have  now  of  it,)  as  may  render  it 
(though  confessedly  above  the  measure  of  our  present  un- 
(ierstandings  as  to  a  distinct  knowledge  of  it)  not  mani- 
festly incompetent  to  any  created  understanding  whatso- 
ever, and  as  may  speak  us  duly  shy  of  ascribing  a  deilj'  to 
a  worm,  of  affixing  an\'  thing  to  the  creature  which  shall 
be  found  agreeing  to  the  b'essed  God  himself  alone.  Their 
expressions  therefore  who  over-magnify  (even  deify)  the 
creature'assumed  into  glory,  must  be  heard  and  reati  with 
caution  and  abhorrency,  as  the  high-swelling  words  of 
bla,sphemous  vanity."  Is  it  not  enough  that  perishing 
wretches,  that  were  within  one  hand's  breadth  of  hell,  are 

Deo,  sed  plris  vident  qiiam  verba  creato  dicere  posswnt nam  ieatu.i 

per  visionem  beatam  qvamvis  non  videat  infinite  ridet  tamen  infinitum 

(which  is  their  great  argument  against  any  intelligible  species  : )  and  be 

further  adds,  sicut  ri^io  Dei.  quce  est  in  ipso  Deo.  habet  pro  principio  et 
.specie  iutelUsibili  ipsam  dirinam  Essentiam,  et  pro  termino  ipsom  Di- 
vinam  Essentiam  ;  sic  vi.'iio  beatorum  est  ita  supernatural  is.  et  dirini  or- 
dinis.  et  participatio  diviner  risionis  ita  perfecta.  lit  ipsa  etiam  haleat  pro 
principio  et  specie  intelliscihili,  divina?n  Essentiam.  et  pro  tennino  sire 
verba  producto,  ipsamet  dirinam  Essentiam.  So  tirat  the  principal  and  tcmi 
of  this  vision  are  owned  to  be  nothing  else  but  the  simple  Divin"  essonie.  Con- 
cerning thejbmial  act  it.self  it  is  much  disputed,  whether  the  creature's  in- 
tellect do  at  all  effectually  concur  to  it,  or  whether  God  himself  be  not  the  only 
efficient  or  a^ent  in  this  vision.  Some  stick  not  In  affirm  the  latter.  Marsil. 
in  3.  q.  1.  Palud  in  i.  dist.  49._7.  1.  Art.  2.  (rrferrnte  Ledfsma.)  and  say 
plaiidy.  that  the  action  of  the  inferior  agent  wholly  reases.  and  the  su|)erior 
only  acts  ;  the  same  thing  that  D.  i\l.  CausaUiu  in  bis  Enthusiasm  charges 
one  Ma.\imus  with,  who  in  a  book  entitled  Kt^a\aia  StoXo)  uu  writes  thus  : 
rqn  aiuaov  X(</?t.)i'  tfoiatv  —pos  rov  Oet)v  0  vnvi  rqv  rowoeiv  Kai  vneicOat 
Tiii-rfXoij  Si'i'it/Kf  s\£:  cyo^ai^nvaat.  That  the  soul  taken  into  immediate 
union  with  God,  loses  all  its  K-nowinff  potrer  :  (though  this  be  not  distinct 
ively  spoken  of  the  state  fif  sinry  :)  and  what  doth  this  amount  to?  but  tliat 
while  they  are  eagerly  couteuiling  about  the  saints'  blessedness,  and  loo  cu- 
riously labouring  to  explicate  Ihe  manner  of  their  seeing  Goil,  they  unawares 
destroy  the  subject  of  the  ciuestion.  and  deny  that  they  sec  him  at  all  ;  and  .so 
upon  the  whole,  dispute  themselves  into  a  worse  than  paganish  infidelity. 
And  even  the  rest,  that  agree  in  the  sense  of  the  pa--sages  alxive  reciteS 
will  not  be  easily  able  to  avoid  the  charge  of  as  intolerable  consequences 
which  it  is  my  business  here  only  to  discover,  and  not  to  determine  any  thine 
in  this  controversy,  whiles  I  tax  the  too  much  Ixjldness  of  others,  who  adven- 
ture it.  And  here  not  to  insist  on  the  absurdity  of  what  they  say  concerning 
the  inlelliuible  species  in  general,  let  it  be  considered.  1.  That  the  Divine  es- 
si'ucc  is  said  to  Ire  nnileil  to  Ihe  intellect  of  the  ble.sscd.  as  an  intelligiiile  spe- 
cies. 2.  That  the  inlelli^'ilile  species,  in  the  business  of  intellection,  and  tlie 
intellect,  become  one  another;  do  not  remain  distinct  things  uniied.bul  are 
identified  3.  That  hence  in  understanding  GchI,  the  intellect  is  deified  and 
becomes  God.  which  naturally  follows  from  the  two  former,  and  is  moreover 
expressly  asserted  in  plain  words.  What  need  is  there  to  press  this  doctrine 
with  hard  consequences  ?  or  how  can  it  look  worse  than  it  doth  already,  with 
its  owii  natural  face?  Nor  can  I  apprehend  w  hich  way  it  should  be  made  look 
l)etter.  For  should  it  lay  claim  to  that  favour,  to  be  understood  according  to 
the  usual  sense  of  the  peripatetic  maxim,  intellectu.s.  intelli^cndo.  sit  om- 
nia :  it  will  be  fi)und  manifestly  to  have  precludr<l  itself  That  maxim  is  wont 
to  be  understood  thus:  That  the  mtellcct  becomes  that  which  it  understands 
representative,  by  putting-  on  the  species  or  likeness  of  its  nliject.  the  n-presen- 
talionof  it.  For  iust;mce.  when  I  form  in  my  mind  the  notion  of  a  mountain, 
my  understanding  becomes  an  ideal  or  spiritu.al  mountain  :  it  bcfomcs  that 
species  (which  is  liable  to  more  exception  too  than  I  .shall  now  insist  on.  and 
looks  more  like  tlie  laniniace  of  a  poet  than  a  philosonheri  that  is  new  formed 
then':  and  not  ilie  material  mountain  itself  Bnt  how  shall  this  a.ssertion. 
The  undeistanduiL'.  bvits  act  of  undeistandins  GimI.  becomes  God.  l>e  cap,".hle 
of  ibat  intenr.tation  /  e.  It  becomes  his  likeness,  his  idea,  his  representation 
now  f.iirii.-d  in  it.  when  any  such  inter\enins  likeness  or  representation  is  ut- 
lerlv  denied  :  and  Ibatsupposed  si>ecies  is  saiil  to  be  the  sinuMe  Divine  essence 
itself:  and  if  the  Divine  e.ssenw  itselflK!  th.af  s|x-cies  by  which  'tis  mtderslood, 
w  ill  it  n<it  follow  from  that  other  Aristotelian  axiom,  iwhicli  with  them  must 
signify  as  much  as  a  text  from  Saint  Paul,)  scibile  et  sciauia  sunt  idem : 


200 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


Chap.  HI. 


saved,  except  they  oe  also  deified  too  1  that  they  become 
happy,  unless  they  also  become  gods  1  The  distance  even 
of  a  glorified  creature  from  the  glorious  God,  is  still  infi- 
nitely greater,  than  between  it  and  the  silliest  worm,  the 
minutest  atom  of  dust. 

And  by  how  much  moire  we  shall  then  knoAv  of  his 
glory,  so  much  more  shall  we  understand  that  distance. 
Yet  as  he  shall  then  enlarge  the  capacity  of  the  soul  he 
glorifies  to  a  very  vast  comprehension,  so  shall  the  exhibi- 
tion of  his  glory  to  it  be  fully  adequate  to  its  most  enlarged 
capacity.  They  are  as  yet  but  obscure  glimmerings  we 
can  have  of  this  glory ;  but  so  far  as,  without  too  bold  cu- 
riosity, we  may,  and  wherein  Scripture  light  will  give  us 
any  pre-apprehension  of  it,  let  us  consider  awhile  the  na- 
ture and  the  excellency  of  it.  We  cannot  indeed  consider 
these  separately;  for  we  can  no  sooner  understand  it  to 
be  glory,  than  we  conceive  it  excellent :  glory,  in  the 
proper  notion  of  it,  being  nothing  else  but  resplendent  ex- 
cellency, the  lustre  of  excellency,  or  real  worth  made  con- 
spicuous. Yet  as  there  is  an  excellency  conceivable  in 
*he  nature  of  it,  that  excellency  whereof  it  is  the  splen- 
dour and  brightness ;  so  we  must  conceive  a  peculiar  ex- 
cellency of  that  very  radiation,  that  splendour  itself, 
wherewith  it  shines  unto  blessed  souls.  In  its^  very  nature 
it  is  the  brightness  of  divine  excellencies;  in  its  present 
appearance,  it  shines  in  the  highest  excellency  of  that 
brightness ;  in  its  nature  it  excelleth  all  things  else  ;  in  its 
present  exhibition,  compared  with  all  its  former  radia- 
tions, it  excelleth  itself. 

As  to  the  nature  of  this  glory,  'tis  nothing  else  but  the 
conspicuous  lustre  of  divine  perfections.  We  can  only 
guide  our  present  conceptions  of  it,  by  the  discovery  God 
hath  already  given  us  of  himself,  in  those  several  excel- 
lencies of  his  being,  the  great  attributes  that  are  convertible 
and  one  with  him.  When  Moses  besought  him  for  a  sight 
of  his  glory,  he  answers  him  with  this,  "  I  will  proclaim 
my  name  before  thee."  His  name,  we  know,  is.  the  col- 
lection of  his  attributes.  The  notion  therefore  we  can 
hence  form  of  this  glory,  is  only  such  as  we  may  have  of 
a  large  volume  by  a  brief  synopsis  or  table;  of  a  magni- 
ficent fabric,  by  a  small  model  or  platform;  a  spacious 
country,  by  a  little  landscape.  He  hath  here  given  us  a 
true  representation  of  himself,  not  a  full ;  such  as  will  se- 
cure our  apprehensions,  being  guided  thereby,  from  error, 
not  from  ignorance.  So  as  they  swerve  not  in  apprehending 
this  glory,  though  they  still  fall  short.  We  can  now  apply 
our  minds  to  contemplate  the  several  perfections  which  the 
blessed  God  assumes  to  himself,  and  whereby  he  describes 
to  us  his  own  being ;  and  can  in  our  thoughts  attribute 
them  all  to  him,  though  we  have  still  but  low  defective 
conceptions  of  each  one.  As  if  we  could  at  a  distance 
distinguish  the  streets  and  houses  of  a  great  city;  but 
every  one  appears  to  us  much  less  than  it  is.     We  can  ap- 

That  our  very  knowledge  of  God  must  be  God  too  ?  or  would  they  disown  f)iat 
maxim,  sure  when  once  the  faculty  i.-i  su|i|mW(1  d.'ififd,  tlic  ;tct  inunanent  in  it 
cannot  be  a  created  accident:  norcmi  ilint  mii\ini  (niKliTsldiul  ol'tli:' ,«r/' /V: 
representativtim,  or  the  species  scibilis)  \w  ilrnicil  hy  (hmi  And  snrr  if  ilie 
saints' laiowledge  of  God,  the  hkeiicss  of  him  in  tlvir  iiiimls.  lie  Cud;  tlirir 
holiness,  tlie  likeness  of  Iiim  in  their  hearts,  must  be  ho  too  Hmv  yhsiird  then 
would  it  he.  to  use  that  scripture  lansriiase,  and  speak  fif  tlie<:e  under  the 
names  of  God's  image  or  likeness,  when  similitude  and  hinititii  arc  notions 
so  vastly  disaereeing:  and  since  a  saints'  knowledge  and  bdliness  here  and  in- 
heaven  diifer  but  in  degree  :  they  can  tie  here  on  enrth.  ndlliiiii;  hut  God  dwell- 
ing in  them.  And  stspposing  that  Scotus  Imvc  luflir  d.ll mlod  tlian  his  ad- 
Tersaries  impimgedthe  real  identity  of  the  soul  and  its  fiirultics.  that  must  Ije 
deified  too.  However,  what  could  be  imaKJnod  nicur  absurd,  ibari  lliat  tiie 
substance  of  the  soul  should  be  a  creature  ;incl  its  faculty  Uiid  i  V\'hiii(i-,  then. 
io  we  think  that  modem  Famdists  hiLVr  tile  lird  llinr  adndrcd  iicrrseiisc' 
Whom  have  they  had  their  original  insfriictdrs'  nr  who  have  tnuf,'lit  tluni 
thatljrave,  magnificent  language  of  being  (ioddi'd  with  Gdd,  and  ('hristcd 
with  Christ,  but  these  J  Nor,  sure,  need  they  blush  to  l>p  found  t'lulty  of  so  pro- 
foiuidly  learned  inconsistencies,  or  to  speak  ahsurdly  atbr  surb  pnlrims.  And 
what  should  occasion  these  men  so  to  involve  themselves  I  caiinnt  tind  or  di- 
vine uiori-  tbiin  this,  that  they  were  not  able  to  fasten  upon  anv  more  tolrralde 
sense  of  the  word  KnQo>i,  I  Cor.  xiii.  12.  1  John  iii.  2.  but  taking,'  that  in  its 
highest  pit  eh  of  significancy,  all  their  arguments  are  generally  levelled  at  this 
mark,  to  prove  that  no  created  species  can  possibly  n  pn-.^i'iit  God  sicnti  pst, 
aiid  thence  infer,  that  he  cannot  be  seen  by  any  eretitcd  species  in  the  glorified 
state,  where  he  is  to  be  seen  sicuti  est.  But  could  we  rnnlcnt  ourselves  with 
a  moilest  interpretation  of  these  words,  and  understand  them  to  speak  not  of  a 
■parily  but  of  a  similitude  only,  between  God's  knowledge  and  ours,  nor  of  an 
absolute  omnimodous  similitude,  but  comparative  only ;  that  is,  that  comparing 
our  future  with  our  present  state,  the  former  shall  so  fkr  excel  this,  that  m 
comparison  thereof  it  may  be  said  to  be  a  knowing  of  God  as  we  are  known, 
and  as  he  is  ;  insomuch  as  our  future  know  lcdi;c  of  him  shall  approach  so  im- 
.speakalily  nearer  to  his  most  perfect  knowLdj/e  of  iis,  and  the  truth  of  the 
tli>ng,  than  our  present  knowledi'c  dolh  or  can:  by  such  an  interiireta- 
tion  we  are  cast  u|(on  no  such  difficulties.  For  admit  that  no  species 
can  represent  God  as  he  is  in  the  highest  sense  of  these  words  ;  yet  sure  in 
the  same  sense  wherein  he  ran  lie  seen  by  us  as  ho  is,  he  may  he  repre- 
sented to  us  as  he  is.    And  what  can  be  more  frivolous  than  that  fore-recited 


prehend  somewhat  of  whatsoever  he  reveals  to  be  m  him- 
self;  yet  when  all  is  done,  how  little  a  portion  do  we  take 
up  of  him  I  Our  thoughts  are  empty  and  languid,  strait 
and  narrow,  such  as  diminish  and  limit  the  Holy  One. 
Yet  so  far  as  our  apprehensions  can  correspond  to  the 
discovery  he  aflbrds  us  of  his  several  excellencies,  we  have 
a  present  view  of  the  Divine  glory.  Do  but  strictly  and 
distinctly  survey  the  many  pprfections  comprehended  in 
his  name,  then  gather  them  up,  and  consider  how  glorious 
he  is !  Conceive  one  glory  resulting  from  substantial 
wisdom,  goodness,  power,  truth,  justice,  holiness,  that  is, 
beaming  forth  from  him  who  is  all  these  by  his  very  es- 
sence, necessarily,  originally,  infinitely,  eternally,  with 
whatsoever  else  is  truly  a  perfection.  This  is  the  glory 
blessed  souls  shall  behold  for  ever. 

For  the  excellency  of  it,  'tis  called  by  way  of  discrimi- 
nation,o  "  The  excellent  glory."  There  was  glory  put 
upon  Christ  in  the  transfiguration;  of  which,  when  the 
apostle  speaks,  having  occasion  to  rhention  withal  the  glory 
of  heaven  itself,  from  whence  the  voice  came  ;  he  adds  to 
this  latter,  the  distinguishing  note  of  the  excellent.  He 
himself  was  eye-witness  of  the  honour,  and  majesty,  and 
glory,  which  the  Lord  Jesus  then  received ;  but  beyond 
all  this,  the  glory  from  whence  the  voice  came,  was  the 
Pexcellent  or  stately  glory,  as  the  word  imports.  'Tis  a 
great  intimation  how  excellent  a  gloiy  this  is,  that  'tis  said 
to  be  a  glory  lyet  to  be  revealed;  as  if  it  had  been  said, 
whatever  appearances  of  the  Divine  glories  are  now  offered 
to  your  view,  there  is  still  somewhat  undiscovered,  some- 
what behind  the  curtain,  that  will  outshine  all.  You  have 
not  seen  so  much,  but  you  are  still  to  expect  unspeakably 
more.  Glory  is  then  to  shine  in  its  noon-day  strength  and 
vigour :  'tis  then  in  its  meridian.  Here,  the  riches  of 
glory  are  to  be  displayed,  certain  trea-sures  of  glory,  the 
plenitude  and  magnificence  of  glory.  We  are  here  to  .see 
him  as  he  is;  to  know  him  as  we  are  known  of  him. 
Certainly,  the  display  of  himself,  the  rays  of  his  discovered 
excellency,  must  hold  proportion  with  that  vision,  and  be 
therefore  exceeding  glorious. ■"  'Tis  the  glory  Christ  had 
with  the  Father  before  the  foundations  of  the  world  were 
laid  ;  into  the  vision  and  communion  whereof  holy  souls 
shall  now  be  taken,  according  as  their  capacities  can  ad- 
mit :  that  wherewithal  his  great  achievements  and  high 
merits  shall  be  rewarded  eternally ;  that  wherewith  he  is 
to  be  glorified  in  heaven,  in  compensation  of  having  glo- 
rified his  Father  on  earth,  and  finished  the  work  whereto 
he  was  ajtpointed.  This  cannot  but  be  a  most  transcendent 
glory.  'Tis  in  sum,  and  in  the  language  of  the  text,  the 
glory  of  God's  own  face,  his  most  aspectdble,  conspicuous 
glory.  Whose  transforming  beams  are  productive  of  the 
glory  impressed,  the  next  ingredient  into  this  blessedness, 
which  will  presently  come  to  be  spoken  of,  after  we  have 
given  you  some  short  account  of, 

rensotring  to  the  contrary?  "There  can  be  no  created  representation  of  God 
(sicuti  est)  adequate  to  the  vision  the  blfcS9«d  have  of  him  ;  but  they  see  more 
than  any  created  representation  can  contain,  for  they  see  injinitiim,  though 
not  infinite.  For  how  must  we  understand  the  infinitum  they  are  said  to 
see?  Materially  or  formally?  Must  we  understand  by  it  him  that  is  infinite 
oidy,  or  as  he  is  infiiute?  If  it  be  said  the  latter,  that  is  to  say  they  see  infi- 
nite too  If  the  former  only,  do  not  saints  on  earth  see  Wz.  mentally,  which 
is  the  Wsion  we  are  speaking  oO  him  who  is  infinite,  in  their  present  slate, 
where  it  is  acknowledgi'd  the  knowledge  is  by  species. 

Vet  wouH  1  not  hence  conclude  that  the  knowledge  saints  shall  have  of  God 
hereafter  shall  be  by  species;  lor  my  design  in  all  this  is  hut  to  discover  the 
vanity  (jf  too  |iositive  and  definitive  conceptions  concerning  it,  beyond  the 
nieusure  of  (iod's  r<  \elatinn.  and  the  ducture  of  clear  and  unentanglcd  reason. 
All  knowle(L'e  batli  been  thoiight  to  be  by  assimilation,  i.  e.  by  recer\ing  the 
species  or  iina^'es  of  the  tilings  known.  So  the  intellect  is  not  really  turned 
info  the  things  which  it  understands,  hut  only  receives  their  siiecics,  wherewith 
It  is  united  so  closely,  that  it  is  therefore  said  to  be  hke  to  them.  Virtuosi  of 
France,  confer.  65. 

One  way  or  other  it  hath  been  judged  necessary  the  mind  should  he  furnished 
with  such  images  of  fhe  thing  it  is  said  to  understand  ;  which  therefore  some 
have  Ihongbt  aninate  :  others  supplied  by  sense  totally  :  others  by  a  separate 
i»lc!l)Cli/.i  offnis :  which  some  have  thought  to  be  God  himself:  others  one 
common  intelligence  ;  others  a  particular  genius.  So  indispensably  necessary 
it  hath  !)eeu  reckoned  unto  intellection,  that  the  office  of  furnishing  llie  mind 
wirh  the  imasres  of  the  things  to  Ite  understood,  should  be  perfonned  by  one 
or  other  If  any  clearer  exjilication  can  be  given,  or  better  way  assigned,  of 
the  soul's  knowing  tilings,  it  cannot  but  be  welcome  to  rational  men.  But 
I  see  no  necessity  or  reason  it  should  have  a  specifically  distinct  way  ot 
knowing  here  and  in  heaven.  Much  less  that  we  should  imagine  to  our- 
selves such  a  one  as  to  that  other  state,  as  is  altogether  unaccountable  and 
capable  of  no  rational  explication  ;  and  reckon  if  nuich  more  becoming  fo  be 
silent,  than  on  pretence  of  any  mysteriousness  in  the  things  we  discourse  of, 
to  talk  absurdly  and  uninfellipibty  about  them  A  confessed  ignorance  in  this 
case  is  liecoming,  fo  say  with  that  great  apostle.  If  doth  not  apficar  what  «e 
shall  be  ;  but  fo  conclude  and  defuic  such  matters,  is  surely  ippovciv  trap  o  act 
^>p'n>ctv. 

o  2  Pet.  i.  17.  p  McjtXoJrptn-fjf. 

q  1  Pet.  iv.  13.  r  .lohn  xvii. 


Chap.  IV. 


THE  BLESSED^fESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


201 


2.  The  act  of  beholding:  the  vision  or  intuition  itself, 
by  which  intervening  the  impression  is  made.  Glory 
seems  to  carry  in  it  a  peculiar  respect  to  the  visive  power  ; 
(wliether  corporeal  or  mental,  as  it  is  itself  of  the  one  kind 
or  the  other;)  'tis  something  to  be  contemplated,  to  be 
looked  upon.  And  being  to  transmit  an  impression  and 
consequent  pleasure  to  another  subject,  it  must  necessarily 
be  so,  it  can  neither  transform  nor  satisfy  but  as  it  is  be- 
held. And  here  the  sensitive  intuition  I  shall  not  insist 
on,  as  being  less  intended  in  the  text,  and  the  discourse 
of  it  less  suitable  to  such  as  with  a  spiritual  mind  and 
design  set  themselves  to  inquire  into  the  nature  of  the 
saints'  blessedness.  Yet,  as  this  is  the  most  noble,  com- 
prehensive, quick,  and  sprightly  sense,  so  is  the  act  of  it 
more  considerable,  in  the  matter  of  blessedness,  than  any 
other  of  the  outward  man,  and  the  most  perfect  imitation 
of  the  act  of  the  mind  ;  whence  also  this  so  often  borrows 
the  name  of  the  other,  and  is  called  seeing.  'Tis  an  act 
indeed  very  proper  and  pertinent  to  a  state  of  glory.  By 
how  much  more  any  sensible  object  is  glorious,  (supposing 
the  sensorium  to  be  duly  disposed  and  fortified,  as  must  be 
here  supposed,)  so  much  is  it  the  fitter  object  of  sight ; 
hence  when  we  would  express  a  glorious  object,  we  call  it 
conspicuous ;  and  the  less  glorious  or  more  obscure  any 
thing  is,  the  less  visible  it  is,  and  the  nearer  it  approaches 
to  invisibility;  whence  that  saying  in  the  common  phi- 
losophy,' "  To  see  blackness  is  to  see  nothing."  What- 
soever a  glorified  eye,  replenished  with  a  heavenly  vitality 
and  vigour,  can  fetch  in  from  the  many  glorified  objects 
that  encompass  it,  we  must  suppose  to  concur  to  this  bless- 
edness. Now  is  the  eye  satisfied  with  seeing,  which  be- 
fore never  could. 

But  'tis  intellectual  sight  we  are  chiefly  to  consider 
here,  that  whereby  we  see  him  that  is  invisible,  and  ap- 
proach the  inaccessible  light.  tThe  word  here  used,  some 
critics  tell  us,  more  usually  signifies  the  sight  of  the  mind. 
And  then,  not  a  casual,  superficial  glancing  at  a  thing,  but 
contemplation,  a  studious,  designed  viewing  of  a  thing 
when  we  solemnly  compose  and  apply  ourselves  thereto; 
or  the  vision  of  prophets,  or  such  as  have  things  discovered 
to  them  by  divine  revelation,  (thence  called  chozim,  seers,) 
which  imports  (though  not  a  previous  design,  yet)  no  less 
intention  of  mind  in  the  act  itself  And  so  it  more  fitly 
expresses  that  knowledge  which  we  have,  not  by  discourse 
and  reasoning  out  of  one  thing  from  another,  but  by  im- 
mediate intuition  of  what  is  nakedly,  and  at  once,  offered 
to  our  view,  which  is  the  more  proper  knowledge  of  the 
blessed  in  heaven.  They  shall  have  the  glory  of  God  so 
presented,  and  their  minds  so  enlarged,  as  to  comprehend 
much  at  one  view;  in  which  respect  they  may  be  said,  in 
a  great  degree,  to  know  as  they  are  known,  inasmuch  as 
the  blessed  God  comprehends  all  things  at  once,  in  one 
simple  act  of  knowing.  Yet  that  is  not  to  be  understood 
as  if  the  state  of  glory  should  exclude  all  ratiocination, 
more  than  our  present  state  doth  all  intuition  ;  (for  firs.' and 
indemonstrable  principles  we  see  by  their  own  lie-'if,  with- 
out illation  or  argument;)  nor  can  it  be  inco'^venient  to 
admit,  that  while  the  knowledge  the  blesspj  have  of  God, 
is  not  infinite,  there  may  be  use  of  their  discursive  faculty 
-with  great  fruit  and  pleasure.  "Pare  intuition  of  God 
without  anv  mixture  of  reasoni--«g,  is  ack-nowledged  (by 
such  as  are  apt  enough  to  be  over-ascnbmg  to  the  creature) 
peculiar  to  God  alone.  V'^i  as  the  blessed  God  shall  con- 
tinually aflTord  (if  we  «iay  spealf  of  continuity  in  eternity, 
which  yet  we  cannot  otherwise  apprehend)  a  clear  dis- 
covery of  him?rilf,  so  shall  the  principal  exercise  and  fe- 
licity of  the  blessed  soul  consist  in  that  less  laborious  and 
more  pieasant  way  of  knowing,  a  mere  admitting  or  enter- 
taining of  those  free  beams  of  voluntary  light,  by  a  grateful 
intuition ;  which  way  of  knowing,  the  expression  of  sight, 
or  beholding,  doth  most  incline  to,  and  that  is,  we  are  sure, 
the  ordinary  language  of  Scripture*  about  this  matter. 


s  kxiat.  in  3.  Meteorolog.  Cap.  de  Iride. 

tnn. 

u  CoffDoacere  Deum  clare  et  intuitive  eat  proprium  ct  naturale  soli  Deo,  sicut 


CHAPTER  IV. 

The  second  ingredient  into  this  blessedness  considered,  Assimilation  to  Gf«l, 
or  his  glory  imprest.  Wherein  it  consists,  discoveredui  suwii^'proriositiuiis. 
riie  third  infrtdient.  Tho  satisfaction  aiul  pleasure  wliich  r^ulte,  staled 
and  opeiieu. 

And  now,  upon  this  vision  of  the  blessed  face  of  God, 
next  follows,  in  the  order  of  discourse, 

The  soul's  perfect  assimilation  unto  that  revealed  glory, 
or  its  participation  thereof;  (touching  the  order  the  things 
themselves  have  to  one  another,  there  will  be  consideratioa 
had  in  its  proper  place  ;)  and  this  also  must  be  considered 
as  a  distinct  and  necessary  ingredient  into  the  state  of 
blessedness  we  are  treating  of  Distinct  it  is,  for  though 
the  vision  now  spoken  of  doth  include  a  certain  kind  of 
assimilation  in  it,  as  all  vision  doth,  being  only  a  reception 
of  the  species  or  likeness  of  the  object  seen  ;  this  assimi- 
lation we  are  to  speak  of,  is  of  a  very  different  kind.  That, 
is  such  as  affects  only  the  visive  and  cognitive  power,  ajid 
that  not  with  a  real  change,  biU  intentional  <inly,  nor  for 
longer  continuance  than  the  act  of  seeing  lasts;  but  this, 
is  total,  real,  and  permanent.  And  surely  it  is  of  equal 
necessity  to  the  soul's  blessedness,  to  partake  the  glory  of 
God,  as  to  behold  it ;  as  w' ell  as  to  have  the  Divine  likeness 
imprest  upon  it,  as  represented  to  it.  After  so  conta- 
gious and  overspreading  a  depravation  as  sin  hath  diffused 
through  all  its  powers,  it  can  never  be  happy  without  a 
change  of  its  very  crasis  and  temper  throughout.  A  diir- 
eased,  ulcerous  body  would  take  little  I'elicity  in  gay  and 
glorious  sights :  no  more  would  all  the  glory  of  heaven 
signify  to  a  sick,  deformed,  self-loathing  soul. 

It  must  therefore  be  all  glorious  within,  have  the  Divine 
nature  more  perfectly  commimicated,  the  likeness  of  God 
transfused  and  wrought  into  it.  This  is  the  blessed  work 
begun  in  regeneration ;  but  how  far  it  is  from  being  per- 
fected, we  may  soon  find  by  considering,  how  far  short  we 
are  of  being  satisfied  in  our  present  state,  even  in  the  con- 
templation of  the  highest  and  most  excellent  objects.  How 
tasteless  to  our  souls  are  the  thoughts  of  God  !  How  little 
pleasure  do  we  take  in  viewing  over  his  glorious  attributes ! 
the  most  acknowledged  and  adorable  excellencies  of  his 
being]  And  whereunto  can  we  impute  it  but  to  this,  that 
our  spirits  are  not  yet  sufficiently  connaturalized  to  them  1 
Their  likeness  is  not  enough  deeply  iustamped  on  our 
souls.  Nor  will  fJiis  be,  till  we  awake.  When  we  see 
better,  we  shall  become  better  :  wh«n  he  appears,  we  shall 
be  like  him,  for  w"e  shall  see  him  as  he  is.  But  do  we 
indeed  pretend  to  such  an  expectation!  Can  we  think 
Avhat  Gr^  is,  and  what  we  are  in  our  present  state,  and 
not  confess  these  words  to  carry  with  them  an  amazing 
scund  "  we  shall  be  like  him  !"  How  great  a  liope  is  thisi 
How  strange  an  errand  hath  the  gospel  into  the  world ! 
How  admirable  a  design !  to  transform  men  and  make 
them  like  God  !  Were  tlie  dust  of  the  earth  turned  into 
stars  in  the  firmament,  were  the  most  stupendous  poeti- 
cal transformations  assured  realities;  Avhat  could  equal 
the  greatness  and  the  wonder  of  this  mighty  change  ?  Yea, 
and  doth  not  the  expectation  of  it  seem  as  presumptuou.>5, 
as  the  issue  itself  would  he  strange  1  Is  it  not  an  over-bold 
desire;  too  daring  a  thought;  a  thing  unlawful  to  be 
affected,  as  it  seems  impossible  to  be  attained  "?  It  must 
be  acknowledged  there  is  an  appearance  of  high  arrogance 
in  aspiring  to  this,  to  be  like  God.  And  the  very  wish  or 
thought  of  being  so,  in  all  respects,  were  not  to  be  enter- 
tained without  horror.  'Tis  a  matter  therefore  that  requites 
some  disquisition  and  explication,  wherein  that  impressed 
likeness  of  God  consists,  which  must  concur  to  the  saints' 
blessedness.  In  order  hereunto  then  take  the  foDowing 
propositions  : 

Prop.  1.  There  is  a  sense  wherein  to  be  like  God  j^ 
altogether  impossible,  and  the  ver\-  desire  of  it  the  mo- 
horrid  wickedness.  The  prophet"  in  the  name  of  G<i 
charges  the  proud  prince  of  Tyre  with  this,  as  an  incxr.i 
able  arrogance,  that  he  did  set  his  heart  as  the  heart  t 
God;  andupon  this scorechallenges and entersthelistsw/k 

est  pTopriiim  ieni  calefacere  et  soli  iUuminarc.    Ledcsm.  de  dirin.  pertect  ■;  \ 
Art.  7. 
X  Matt.  V.  S.  Ileb.  xii.  14. 


302 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


Chap.  IV 


him :  Come,  you  that  would  fain  be  taken  for  a  god, 
I'll  make  a  sorry  god  of  thee  ere  I  have  done  ;  ^  Because 
thou  hast  set  thy  heart  as  the  heart  of  God,  I  will  set  those 
upon  thee,  that  shall  draw  their  swords  against  the  beauty 
of  thy  wisdom,  and  that  shall  defile  thy  brightness  :  And 
"what  !  Wilt  thou  yet  say  in  the  hand  of  him  that  slayeth 
thee,  I  am  a  godi  Thou  shalt  be  a  man  and  no  god,  in 
the  hand  of  him  that  slayeth  thee  ; — I  have  spoken  it,  saith 
the  Lord  God.  He  will  endure  no  such  imitation  of  him, 
as  to  be  rivalled  in  the  point  of  his  Godhead.  This  is  the 
matter  of  his  jealousy;  b  "  They  have  moved  me  to  jea- 
lousy with  not-God,"  so  'tis  shortly  and  more  smartly 
spoken  in  the  original  text.  And  see  how  he  displays  his 
threats  and  terrors  hereupon  in  the  following  verses.  This 
was  the  design  and  inducement  of  the  first  transgression, 
to  be  as  gods.  And  indeed  all  .sin  may  be  reduced  hither. 
What  else  is  sin  (in  the  most  comprehensive  notion)  but 
an  undue  imitation  of  God  1  an  exalting  of  the  creature's 
will  into  a  supremacy,  and  opposing  it  as  such  to  the  Di- 
vine ?  To  sin,  is  to  take  upon  us,  as  if  we  were  supreme, 
and  that  there  were  no  Lord  over  us;  'tis  to  assume  to 
ourselves  a  deity,  as  if  we  were  under  no  law  or  rule ;  as 
he  is  not  under  any,  but  what  he  is  to  himself.  Herein, 
to  be  like  God,  is  the  very  core  and  malignity  of  sin. 

2.  There  is  a  just  and  laudable  imitation  of  God,  a  like- 
ne.ss  to  him,  that  is  matter  of  command,  praise,  and  pro- 
mise, as  wherein  both  the  duty,  excellency,  and  blessedness 
of  the  reasonable  creature  doth  consist ;  and  which  is  in 
some  respect  inseparable  from  the  nature  of  man.  ^We 
are  required  to  be  followers  of  God,  as  dear  children,  imi- 
tators the  word  is.  David  is  commended  as  a  man  after 
God's  own  heart;  though  but  now  we  saw  in  another, 
with  what  disdain  and  indignation  it  was  resented,  that  he 
did  set  his  heart  as  the  heart  of  God.  The  d new  crea- 
ture, the  new  man,  the  fir.st-fruits,  as  he  is  called,  the 
flower  of  creation,  is  made  after  God.  Saints  expect,  upon 
the  assurance  of  his  word,  to  be  more  fully  like  him,  as 
we  see  in  the  text,  and  parallel  places.  Yea,  man  was 
made  at  first  with  a  concreate  similitude  to  God,  which 
we  know  was  the  counsel  of  heaven,  and  the  result  and 
issue  of  that  counsel.  Gen.  i.  26,  27.  This  is  evident 
enough  in  itself,  and  needs  no  more  words.  But  to  make 
a  further  step  in  this  business,  observe  next, 

3.  There  can  be  no  allowable  imitation  of  any  one, but 
with  an  exception  as  to  some  peculiarities  that  may  belong 
to  his  special  station,  relation,  and  other  circumstances  of 
the  condition  in  which  he  is ;  or  with  limitation  to  such 
things  as  are  of  common  concernment  unio  both.«  'Tis 
commonly  observed  how  naturally  a  people  form  their 
manners  and  fashions  to  the  example  of  the  prm^^e;  and 
there  is  no  well-disposed  ruler,  but  would  take  ii  well, 
to  be  imitated  in  things  that  are  of  common  conceiiw 
ment  to  him  and  his  subjects,  that  is,  that  concern  him, 
not  as  he  is  a  king,  but  as  he  is  a  man,  or  a  Christian.  To 
behold  the  transforming  power  of  his  own  example,  where 
it  is  such  as  begets  a  fair  and  unreproachful  impress  ;f 
how  his  virtues  circulate,  (his  justice,  temperance,  love  of 
religion,)  and  produce  their  likeness  among  his  people ; 
'twill  be  a  glory,  and  cannot  but  be  resented  with  some  de- 
light. We  cast  an  honour  upon  them  whom  we  imitate; 
for  we  acknowledge  an  excellency  in  them,  (which  is  all 
that  honouring  imports  in  the  first  notion  of'  it,)  and  that 
naturally  is  received  with  pleasure.  But  now,  should  sub- 
jects aspire  to  a  likeness  to  their  prince,  in  the  proper  ap- 
pendages and  acts  of  sovereignty;  and  because  he  is  a 
glorious  king,  they  will  be  such  too  ;  and  assume  the  pe- 

a  Ezek.  x.wiii.  6—10. 

b  Dent,  xsxii.  21.  c  Eph.  i.  5.  in/iiiTai.  d  Jam.  i.  18.    Eph.  iv.  24. 

e  Re?is  ad  exemplum  totiis  componiturorbis. 

f  Nam  faci^re  rpct  >  bonus  ririnceps  facieiuio  docet.  Ciimnue  sic  imperio  max- 
iiniis,  r\cm;.l.)  major  e<Jt.    Velleius  Patereulus,  Rom.  Hist.  1.  2. 

s  Intrr  IliMim  it  creaturam  nihil  est  commune. 

li  MiiltH  oriim  mi)dis  dici  res  possunt  similes  Deo;  alias  secundum  virtutem, 
et  saiiientiam,  factfe;  quia  in  ipso  est  virtus  et  sapientia  non  facta  ;  aJiae  in 
quantinn  solum  vivunt,  qui  ille  summe  et  primo  vivit ;  alia;  in  quantum  sunt, 
quia  ille  summe?  et  primitus  est.    Aug.  80  ;  quest,  p.  (milii)  211. 

i  TOii  1  ap  ycvoi;  cctjizv. 

k  P.  ]\Iolineus  de  cognitione  Dei. 

1  Hcatbetis  have  dMained  and  declaimed  asainst  go  unworthy  thoughts  of 
God.  T"  t)c  OiiOf  avTO  anparov  oipOa'Kixoii.  appr\TOv  (pMvn,  avacpes  (raoKt, 
&c.  Maximus  Tyr.  Dissert.  1.  The  same  author  warns  us  to  take  heed,  that 
we  ascribe  to  God,  Mnre  peyetraos,  prjre  xpcJ/'a,  pits  axipa,  piTt  aX\o  Ti 
vXns  TTiidag.     Ibid. 

tJnto  which  purpose  is  that  decantate  distich  of  Homer,  'O')  yap  airov,  &c. 
And  that  savins  of  Pliny,  Qua  prryprer  effigieni  Dei  formamque  qiitBrcre ; 
tmbecUlltatis  humancs  rear,  applied  by  Zaiich  de  opcribus  Dei.    And  we 


culiar  cognizances  of  regality  ;  ascend  the  throne,  sway 
the  sceptre,  wear  the  crown,  enact  laws,  &c.  There  cannot 
be  more  of  dutifulness  and  observance  in  the  former  imi- 
tation than  there  is  of  disloyalty  and  treason  in  this.  A 
father  is  pleased  to  have  his  son  imitate  him,  within  such 
limits  before  mentioned  ;  but,  if  he  will  govern  the  family, 
and  fill  up  his  room  in  all  relations,  this  will  never  be 
endured. 

4.  There  are  some  things  to  be  found  in  the  blessed 
God,  not  so  incommunicable  and  appropriate,  but  that  his 
creatures  may  be  said  to  have  some  participation  thereof 
with  him ;  and  so  far,  to  be  truly  like  him.  This  partici- 
pation cannot  be  univocal ;  as  the  nature  of  a  living  crea- 
ture in  general,  is  equal  in  men  and  brutes ;  so,  it  is  a 
self-evident  principle,  that  s  nothing  can  be  common  to  God. 
and,  an  inferior  being.  Nor  is  it  only  an  equivocal,  a 
participation  of  the  same  name,  when  the  natures  signified 
thereby  are  altogether  diverse ;  but  analogical,  inasmuch 
as  the  things  spoken,  under  the  same  names,  of  God  and 
the  creature,  have  a  real  likeness,  and  conveniency  in  na- 
ture with  one  another:  and  they  are  in  God,  primarily;  in 
the  creature,  by  dependence,  and  derivation :  in  him  es- 
sentially, as  being  his  very  essence;  in  them  but  as  acci- 
dents, (many  of  them,)  adventitious  to  their  beings ;  and 
so  while  they  cannot  be  said  to  be  the  same  things  in  them, 
as  in  him,  are  fitly  said  to  be  his  likeness. 

5.  This  likeness,  as  it  is  principally  found  in  man, 
among  all  the  terrestrial  creatures ;  so  hath  it,  in  man,  for 
its  seat  and  subject,  his  soul  or  spiritual  part.  The  effects 
of  Divine  wisdom,  power,  goodness,  are  every  where  visible 
throughout  the  whole  creation ;  and  as  there  is  no  effect, 
but  hath  something  in  it  corresponding  to  its  cause,  (where- 
in it  was  its  cause,)  so  every  creature  doth,  some  way  or 
other,  represent  God.  Some  in  virtues,  some  in  life,  some 
inbeingh  only.  The  material  world  represents  him,  as  a 
house  the  builder ;  but  spiritual  beings,  as  a  child  the  fa- 
ther." Other  creatures  (as  onek  fitly  expresses  it)  carry 
his  footsteps ;  these,  his  image  ;  and  that,  not  as  drawn 
with  a  pencil,  which  can  only  express  figure  and  colour  ; 
but  as  represented  in  a  glass,  which  imitates  action  and 
motion.  To  give  the  pre-eminence  therefore,!  in  this 
point,  to  the  body  of  man,  was  a  conceit  so  gross,  that  one 
would  wonder  how  it  should  obtain,  at  least  in  the  Chris- 
tian world. 

Yet  we  find  it  expressly  charged  by""  St.  Augustin  upon 
the  anthropomorphites  of  old,  (or  melitonians,  as  he  calls 
them,  from  one  Alelito  the  father  of  them,)  not  only,  that 
they  imagined  God  in  a  human  shape,  (which  was  their 
known  conceit,)  but  that  they  stated  God's  image  in 
man,  in  his  body,  not  his  soul.  Nor  are  Van  Helmont's 
fancies,  about  corporeal  likeness,  capable  of  excuse  by  any 
thing,  but  that  they  were  a  dream,  (as  they  are  fitly  styled,) 
^nd  not  likclv  to  impose  upon  the  waking  reason  of  any 
mt«i. 

6.  This  image  or  likeness  of  God  in  the  spirit  of  man, 
represenim^  what  is  communicable  in  him,  is  either  natural 
or  moral.  'Ihere  is  first  a  natural  image  of  God,  in  the 
soul  of  man,  which  is  inseparable  from  it ;  and  which  it 
can  never  "  divest  >self  of.  Its  very  spiritual,  immortal 
nature  itself,  is  a  representation  of  his.  Its  intellective  and 
elective  powers  are  the  irr.age  of  what  we  are  constrained 
to  conceive  under  the  notion  of  the  same  powers  in  him. 
Yea,  the  same  understanding,  with  the  memory  and  will, 
in  one  soul,  are  thought  a  lively  resemblance  of  the  » tri- 
une Deity.  But  there  is  further  a  similitude  of  him  in 
respect  of  moral  p  virtues   or  perfections  answering  to 

may  see  much  of  the  like  import  alleged  by  Natal.  Com  lib.  i  p  13  Which 
(by  the  way)  discovers  how  flatly  opposite  the  idolatry  forbidden  in  Ae  second 
commandment,  is  to  the  light  of  nature  itself  Which  halh  been  also  iiie  iust 
apology  of  the  ancient  patrons  of  the  Christian  cause,  forthe  simplicity  of  xVeir 
worsiap  in  this  respect ;  and  their  not  Imitating  the  pompous  vanity  of  pagan 
image-worship.  Ovh  Bcias  eiKovas  vn-o\ap0aiiopev  civai  ra  ayaXpara,  arc 
nopipriv  aoparov  Oeov  Kai  aawparov  pr)  SiaypadiopTtS-  Origen  contr.  Cel- 
sum  lib.  7.  ; 

To  which  purpose  see  at  large,  Min.  Felix,  ftuod  simulacnira  Deo  fingam  ? 
&c. 

And  surely  it  is  as  improvable  against  the  same  piece  of  Christian  paganism. 
The  usually  assigned  diflerenccs  would  easily  be  shown  to  be  trifling  miperti- 
nences. 

m  Corpus  hominis  non  animum  esse  imaginem  Dei :  Aug.  (if  it  be  Augus 
tine's)  hb.  de  haeresibus.    See  Dr.  Charleton  of  his  image  of  God  in  man. 

n  Est  Dei  similitudo  qua-dam,  quam  nemo  vivens,  nisi  cum  vita  exuit :  quam 
habct  homo  et  volens,  et  nolens,  «!kc.    Bernard,  de  vita  Solitar. 

o  D.  Aug.  (fuse)  lib.  10.  de  Trinitat. 

p  Se<l  est  alia,  niagis  Deo  propinqua,  similitudo,  quae  in  virtutibus  consistiU 
Bernard. 


Chap.  IV. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


what  we  conceive  ia  him,  under  that  notion  ;  his  wisdom, 
(so  far  as  it  hath  the  nature  of  a  moral  virtue,)  his  mercy, 
truth,  righteousness,  holiness,  &c.  These  two  kinds  or 
parts  (as  they  may  be  called)  of  the  Divine  impress  upon 
the  spirits  of  men,  are  distinguished  by  some  (I  see  not 
how  properly)  by  the  distinct  names  of  image,  denoting 
the  former,  and  similitude  the  latter;  answering,  as  is 
thought,  to  two  Hebrew  words  of  the  like  import;')  but 
the  things  themselves  are  evidently  enough  distinct, 
viz.  what  perfects  the  nature  of  man  in  ge/iere  physico, 
as  he  is  such  a  particular  being  in  the  universe;  and 
what  perfects  him,  in  generemorali,  as  he  is  considerable  in 
reference  to  a  law  or  rule  guiding  him  to  blessedness,  as 
his  end. 

7.  'Tis  a  likeness  to  God  in  respect  of  those  moral  ex- 
cellencies or  perfections,  that  is  especially  considerable  by 
us,  in  reference  to  our  present  purpose;  as  more  immedi- 
ately relating  to  the  soul's  blessedness  in  God.  By  the 
former  it  hath  a  potentiality,  by  the  latter  a  habitude,  in 
reference  thereunto.  Or  (to  use  terms,  more  liable  to  com- 
mon apprehension)  by  the  former  it  hath  a  remoter  capa- 
city, by  the  latter  a  present  fitness;  or,  as  the  apostle 
expresses  it,  is  made  meet  to  be  partaker  of  the  inheritance 
of  the  saints  in  light,  i.  e.  considering  this  likeness  as  be- 
gun in  the  soul. 

8.  Besides  what  is  thus  (in  the  sense  before  expressed) 
communicable  between  God  and  man,  there  are  some 
things  so  peculiarly  appropriate  to  God,  as  that,  in  respect . 
of  them,  there  can  be  no  formal  likeness  in  the  creature  : 
and  it  would  be  impious  boldness  to  aspire  thereto.  Many 
things  of  this  kind  might  be  mentioned;  I  shall  only  in- 
stance in  two,  wherein  there  is  a  manifest  competition  of 
the  apostate  world  with  him  ;  ajid  which  are  therefore  more 
relative  to  practice  ;  his  sovereign  authority,  and  his  inde- 
pendency. In  these,  while  men  affect  to  imitate,  thej' 
wickedly  affront  him.  And  here  is  the  great  controversy 
between  the  glorious  God  and  the  degenerous  children  of 
men.  Every  man  would  catch  at  a  Godhead,  and  either 
assume  it  to  himself,  or  cast  it,  many  times,  upon  other 
creatures  viler  and  more  ignoble  than  himself;  snatch  the 
reigns  of  government  out  of  God's  hand,  and  exalt  their 
own  wills  into  an  absoluteness,  as  liable  to  control  from 
none;  place  and  settle  their  dependence  on  their  own  wit, 
power,  fortitude,  industry ;  or,  if  that  be  a  more  hopeless 
course,  (for  they  often  find  an  entire  Godhead  too  much  for 
one  creature,  and  are  therefore  constrained  to  parcel  it  out 
among  many,)  place  their  confidence  and  expectations  in 
something  else  without  them ;  do  often  that  ridiculous 
thing,  so  worthy  to  be  hooted  at,  make  the  congested  dirt 
of  the  earth  their  trust,  (rthe  righteous  shall  laugh  at  him, 
and  say,  Lo!  this  is  the  man  that  trusted  in  riches,)  their 
wealth  their  strong  tower;  which  only  the  name  of  the 
Lord  is  to  his  righteous  ones.  Yet,  all  the  while,  self  is 
the  centre  and  end  in  which  all  must  meet  and  terminate. 
This  at  last  carries  away  the  assumed  fictitious  deity. 
And  this  thing,  that  is  thus  now  made  like  God,  is  an  idol, 
(which  indeed  signifies  so  much,)  and  this  imitation  of  him, 
wicked  idolatry  ;  than  which  nothing  more  debases  a  rea- 
sonable soul,  or  divests  man  of  himself,  that  till  they  re- 
dress this,^  they  give  no  proof  of  their  being  men.  Thi-^ 
assimilation  of  ourselves  to  God  is  very  remote  then  f.-pra 
being  a  perfection;  it  is  a  most  reproachful  defo-mily: 
as  we  know  imitations,  if  they  be  visibly  affected,  and 
strained  too  far,  are  always  thought  ridicul^tis  by  wise 
men. 

9.  Though,  in  respect  of  these  incoiP'minicable  things, 
there  cannot  be  a  proper,  formal,  im-nediate  similitude  to 
God;  yet,  there  ought  to  be  a  correspondency;  which 
must  be  measured  and  estimatt^t  by  the  consideration  of 
his  state,  and  ours:  whence  it  will  appear,  that  what  so 
properly  appertains  to  him,  and  what  ought  to  correspond 
thereto  in  us,  do  agree  to  each,  upon  one  and  the  same 
intervening  reason. 

For  instance,  is  he  absolutely  supreme  inasmuch  as  he 

q  r-iini  d'?'$  Zancb. 

r  Psal.  lii.  S,  7. 

R  lia.  nlvi.  8. 

t  Tlii'3  .Salmu.  de  Deo  immenso. 

II  v^i'  Which  some  tliink  to  be  theNiphal  of  the  same  word  notwitlistaaidins 
the  (Hflfrrent  pimctimlion  of  the  S'. 

w  How  iit  a  symbol  it  ia  of  God's  sabbatic  rest,  see  Dr.  Moro's  defence  of  his 
Philosophical  Cabbala  from  Philo  Judscus. 


is  the  first  being  1  the  correspondent  impression  with  us, 
and  upon  the  same  reason,  must  be  a  most  profound,  hum- 
ble self-subjfcction,  disposing  our  souls  to  constant  obedi- 
ence to  hiin.  Agaiii,  is  he  simply  independent,  as  being 
self-sufficient  and  all  in  all "?  tb«  impre.ssion  with  us  must 
be  a  nothingness,  and  self-emptiness,  engaging  us  U)  quit 
ourselves,  and  live  in  him.  This  is  the  only  conformity  to 
God,  which  with  res^sect  lo  his  incommunicable  excellen- 
cies, our  creature-state  can  admit.  It  may  be  also  styled  a 
likeness  to  him,  being  a  real  conformity  to  his  will  con- 
cerning us,  and  his  very  nature  as  it  respects  us.  We  may 
conceive  of  it,  as  of  the  likeness  between  a  seal  and  the 
stamp  made  by  it ;  especially,  supposing  the  inequality  of 
parts  in  the  seal  to  be  by  the  protuberancy  of  what  must 
form  the  signature.  In  that  case  there  would  be  a  like- 
ness, aliquatetms^  that  is,  an  exact  correspondency;  but 
what  would  then  be  convex  or  bulging  out  in  the  seal, 
would  be,  as  we  know,  concave  or  hollow  in  the  impres- 
sion. Such  is  the  pro))orlion  between  sovereignty  and  sub- 
jection, between  self-fulness  and  self-emptiness.  Whereas 
a  similitude  to  God,  in  respect  of  his  co;nmunicable  per- 
fections, is  as  that  between  the  face  and  its  picture,  where 
no  such  difference  is  wont  to  appear. 

10.  Assimilation,  ar  conformity  to  God,  in  both  these 
respects,  composes  that  excellent  frame  of  moral  perfections, 
which  the  Divine  glory,  beheld,  impresses  upon  the  soul ; 
and  which  immediately  conduces  to  its  satisfaction  and 
blessedness.  I  say,  moral  perfection,  because  that  only  is 
capable  of  being  impressed  by  the  intervening  ministry  of 
our  own  understanding  ;  viz.  by  its  vision,  intimated,  as 
was  formerly  observed,  in  that  of  the  apostle,  "We  .sliall 
be  like — for  we  shall  see  him,"  &c.  Its  natural  perfections 
are  antecedent  and  presupposed,  therefore  not  so  fitly  to  be 
understood  here.  And  I  say,  both  these  ways ;  for,  as  we 
cannot  form  an  entire  idea  of  God,  withonjt  taking  in,  to- 
gether, his  perfections  of  both  sorts,  communicable  and  in- 
communicable, (the  former  whereof  must  serve  instead  of 
a  genus ;  the  latter  of  a  diffcretitia,  in  composing  ihfi 
notion  of  God  ;')  so  nor  wii^  his  impress  on  us  be  eniiie, 
without  something  in  it  respecting  both,  in  the  senses 
already  given.  What  it  will  contribute  to  future  blessed- 
ness, we  shall  shortly  see,  in  its  place,  when  we  have  made 
a  brief  inquiry  (which  is  the  next  thing,  according  to  our 
order  proposed)  concerning, 

Thirdly,  The  satisfaction  that  shall  hence  accrue.  Where 
it  will  not  be  besides  our  purpose,  to  take  some  notice  of  the 
significancy  of  the  word.  And  not  to  insist  on  its  affinity 
to"  the  word  used  for  swearing,  or  rather,  being  sworn," 
(which,  an  oath  being  the  end  of  controversies,  and  be- 
yond which  we  go  no  further,  nor  expect  more,  in  way  of 
testifying,  would  the  more  fitly  here  represent  to  us  the 
soul  in  it's  non-uUra;  having  attained  the  end  in  all  its 
motions  and  contentions,)  its  equal  nearness  to  the  word 
signifying  the  number  of  seven,  is  not  altogether  un worthy 
observatio'i-  That  number  is,  we  know,  often  used  in 
Scriptiife,  as  denoting  plentitude  and  perfection  ;  and  God 
hath,  as  it  were,  signalized  it,  by  his  rest  on  the  seventh 
day:"  and  if  this  were  not  designedly  pointed  at  here 
in  the  present  use  of  this  word,  (as  it  must  be  acknow- 
ledged to  be  frequently  used  where  we  have  no  reason  to 
think  it  is  with  such  an  intendment)  it  may  \-et  occasicai 
us  to  look  upon  the  holj'  soul  now  entered  into  the  eternal 
sabbath,^  the  rest  of  God:  which  (secluding  all  respect  to 
that  circumstance)  is,  yet,  the  very  .substance  and  true  no- 
tion of  the  thing  itself,  (to  the  consideration  whereof  I  now 
pass,)  under  the  word  held  forth  to  tts.  For  this  satisfac- 
tion is  the  soul's  rest  in  God:  its  perfect  enjoyment  of  the 
most  perfect  good  ;  the  expletion  of  the  whole  capacity  of 
its  will;  the  total  filling  up  of  that  vast  enlarged  appetite ; 
the  perfecting  of  all  its  desires  in  delight  and  joy.  Now 
delight  or  joy  (for  they  differ  not,  save  that  the  latter  word 
is  thought  something  more  appropriate  to  reasonable  na- 
ture) is  fitly  defined,  the  rest  of  the  desiririg  faculti/  in  the 
ihitiir  desircd.y  Desire  and  delight  are  but  two  acts  of  love, 


a.  c   30.  \id.  eund  i\o  civit.  V)i.-\.  1.  17.  c.  4. 
y  Quies  appititiis  in  Hppf>fibili.  Aquin   Sun. 


804 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


Chap.  V. 


diversified  only  by  the  distance  or  presence  of  the  same 
object :  which,  when  'tis  distant,  the  soul,  acted  and 
prompted  by  love,  desires,  moves  towards  it,  pursues  it; 
when  present  and  attained,  delights  in  it,  enjoys  it,  stays 
upon  it,  satisfies  itself  in  it,  according  to  the  measure  of 
goodness  it  finds  there.  Desire  is  therefore  love  in  motion ; 
delight  is  love  in  rest.  And  of  this  latter,  delight  or  joy. 
Scripture  evidently  gives  us  the  notion  ,^  he  will  rejoice 
over  thee  with  joy,  (unto  which  is  presently  added  as  exe- 
getical,)  he  will  rest  in  his  love ;  which  resting  can  be  but 
the  same  thing  with  being  satisfied.  This  satisfaxtion 
then  is  nothing  else  but  the  repose  and  rest  of  the  soul 
amidst  infinite  delights ;  its  peaceful  acquiescence,  having 
attained  the  ultimate  term  of  all  its  motions,  beyond  which 
it  cares  to  go  no  further ;  the  solace  it  finds  in  an  ade- 
quate, full  good ;  v;hich  it  accounts  enough  for  it,  and 
beyond  which,  it  desires  no  more  ;  reckons  its  state  as  good 
as  it  can  be,  and  is  void  of  all  hovering  thoughts,  (which 
perfect  rest  must  needs  exclude,)  or  inclination  to  change. 
And  so  doth  this  being  satisfied,  not  only  generally  signify 
the  soul  to  be  at  rest;  but  it  specifies  that  rest ;  and  gives 
us  a  distinct  account  of  the  nature  of  it.  As,  that  it  is  not 
a  forced,  violent  rest ;  such  as  proceeds  from  a  beguiled 
ignorance,  a  droM'sy  sloth,  a  languishing  weakness,  or  a 
desire  and  hope  of  happiness,  by  often  frustrations  baflled 
into  despair,  (to  all  which,  the  native  import  and  propriety 
of  that  Avord  satisfaction  doth  strongly  repugn.)  But  it 
discovers  it  to  be  a  natural  rest ;  I  mean,  from  an  internal 
principle.  The  soul  is  not  held  in  its  present  state  of  en- 
joyment by  a  strong  and  violent  hand  ;  but  rests  in  it  by 
a  connaturalness  thereunto  ;  is  attempered  to  it,  by  its  own 
inward  constitution  and  frame.  It  rests  not  as  a  descend- 
ing stone,  intercepted  by  something  by  the  M^ay,  that  holds 
and  stop.s  it ;  else  it  would  fall  further :  but  as  a  thing 
would  rest  in  its  own  centre ;  with  such  a  rest  as  the  earth 
is  supposed  to  have  in  its  proper  place  ;  that,  being  hung 
upon  nothing,  is  yet  unmoved,  pondcribus  librata  suis, 
equally  balanced  by  Us  own  weight  every  tcay. 

It  is  a  roMonal,  judicious  rest ;  upon  certain  knowledge 
that  its  present  state  is  simply  best,  and  not  capable  of 
being  changed  for  abetter.  The  soul  cannot  be  held  un- 
der a  perpetual  cheat,  so  as  ahvays  to  be  satisfied  with 
a  shadow.  It  may  be  so  befooled  for  a  while,  but  if 
it  remain  satisfied,  in  a  state  that  never  admits  of  change, 
that  state  must  be  such,  as  commends  itself  to  the  most 
thoroughly  informed  reason  and  judgment.  It  is  hence  a 
free,  voluntary,  chosen  rest;  such  as  God  professes  his  own 
to  be  in  ZionV  This  is  my  rest,  here  will  I  dwell,  for  I 
have  desired  it.  It  is  a  comjilaccntial  rest,  wherein  the 
soul  abides  steady,  bound  only  tr/  the  chords  of  love  ;  a 
rest  in  the  midst  of  pleasantness  ;  i-The  Lord  is  my  por- 
tion, the  lots  are  fallen  to  me  in  arridnitatibus ;  it  cannot 
be  more  fitly  expressed  than  amidst  •pleasantnesses  ;  and  this 
speaks  not  only  what  the  Psalmist's  condition  was,  but 
the  sense  and  account  he  had  of  it.  That  teni-per  of  mind 
gives  us  some  idea  of  that  contentful,  satisfied  aix^de  with 
God,  which  the  blessed  shall  have.  He  intimates,  how 
undesirous  he  was  of  any  change.  <=Their  sorrows  (he  told 
us  above)  should  be  multiplied  that  hasten  after  anothf 
god.  Hereafter  there  will  be  infinitely  less  appearance  of 
reason  for  anv  such  thought.  Now,  it  is  the  sense  of  a 
holy  soul,  "  Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but  thee  1  and  there 
is  none  I  desii'e  on  earth  besides  thee  :"  q.  d.  Heaven  and 
earth  yield  not  a  tempting  object,  to  divert  me  from  thee : 
'tis  now  so,  at  some  times,  when  faith  and  love  are  in  their 
triumph  and  exaltation  (but  the  Lord  knows  how  seldom  !) 
but  mtich  more  when  we  see  him  as  he  is,  and  are  satisfied 
with  his  likeness!  It's  an  active,  vigorous  rest.  Action 
about  the  end  shall  be  perpetuated  "here,  though  action 
towards  it  ceases.  'Tis  the  rest  of  an  awakened,  not  of  a 
drowsy,  sluggish  soul;  of  a  soul  satisfied,  by  heavenly 
sensations  and  fruitions,  not  incapable  of  them,  or  that 

I  Zeph.  iii.  17.  a  Psal.  cxxxii.  14. 

t)  Psal.  xvi.  8.  Q'^n^yn.  c  Ver.  4. 

d  I  think  it  not  worth  the  while  to  engage  in  tlie  dispute  (so  much  agitated 
l)etvvcLMi  the  Thomi?t3  and  Scotists)  whether  blessedness  do  formally  consist 
in  this  sntisfying  fniition,  or  in  the  antecedent  vision  ;  this  satisfaction  is  cer 
tainly  inseparable  from  it,  and  I  see  not  how  to  be  excluded  out  of  its  formal 
notion  ;  'tis  not  vision  as  vision,  but  as  satisfying,  that  makes  us  hapny ;  and 
to  talk  oftlie  satisfaction  or  pleasure  which  the  understanding  hath  in  knowing 
18  uiaipid ;  while  the  soul  understanding,  i.  e.  the  mind,  knows,  'tis  the  soul 
finioyinir,  i.  e.  tlie  wiU,  is  pleased  and  finds  content ;  and  till  tlie  soul  be  fully 


hath  its  powers  bound  up  by  a  stupifying  sleep.  It's  the 
rest  of  hope,  perfected  in  fruition,  not  lost  in  despair ;  of 
satisfied,  not  defeated,  expectation.  dDespair  may  occasion 
rest  to  a  man's  body,  but  not  to  his  mind ;  or  a  cessation 
from  further  endeavours,  when  they  are  constantly  found 
vain,  but  not  from  trouble  and  disquiet ;  it  may  suspend 
from  action,  but  never  satisfy.  This  satisfaction  therefore 
speaks  both  the  reality  and  nature  of  the  soul's  rest  in 
glory;  that  it  rests;  and  with  what  kind  of  rest. 


CHAPTER  V. 

The  relative  consideration  of  these  tliree  ingredients  of  the  saints'  blessedness  ; 
where  it  is  propounded  to  show  particularly,  1.  What  relation  vision  hathte 
assimilation.  2.  What  both  these  have  to  satisfaction.  The  relation  between 
the  two  former,  inqiiired  into.  An  entrance  upon  the  much  larger  discourse, 
what  relation  and  iiiHuence  the  two  former  have  towards  the  third :  What 
vision  of  God's  face  or  glory,  contributes  towards  satisfaction,  estimated  from 
the  consideration,  l.  Of  the  object,  the  glory  to  be  beheld;  as  'tis  divine, 
entire,  permanent,  appropriate. 

Thus  far  have  we  viewed  the  parts  or  necessary  concur- 
rence, of  which  the  blessedness  of  the  saints  must  be 
composed  absolutely  and  severally  each  from  other :  we 
proceed. 

Secondly,  To  consider  them  relatively,  viz.  in  the  mu- 
tual respects  they  bear  one  to  another ;  as  they  actually 
compose  this  blessed  state.  Wherein  we  shall  show  par- 
ticularl}-^ :  1.  The  relation,  by  way  of  influence,  and  de- 
pendence, between  vision,  and  assimilation:  and — Be- 
tween both  these  and  the  satisfaction  that  ensues :  which 
latter  I  intend  more  to  dwell  upon  •  and  only  to  touch  the 
former,  as  a  more  speculative  ana  less  improvable  sub- 
ject of  discourse,  in  my  way  to  this. 

1.  First,  It  may  be  considered — What  relation  there  may 
be  between  vision  of  God,  and  assimilation,  or  being  made 
like  to  him ;  and  it  must  be  acknowledged  (according  to 
what  is  commonly  observed  of  the  mutual  action  of  the 
understanding  and  will)  that  the  sight  of  God,  and  like- 
ness to  him,  do  mutually  contribute  each  towards  other. 
The  sight  of  God  assimilates,  makes  the  soul  like  unto 
him ;  that  likeness  more  disposes  it  for  a  continued  re- 
newed vision.  It  covild  never  have  attained  the  beatifical 
vision  of  God,  had  it  not  been  prepared  thereto,  by  a  gra- 
dual previous  likeness  to  him.^  For  righteousness  (which 
we  have  shown  qualifies  for  this  blessedness)  consists  in  a 
likeness  to  God  ;  and  it  could  never  have  been  so  prepared, 
had  not  some  knowledge  of  God  introduced  that  confor- 
mity and  yielding  bent  of  heart  towards  him.  For  the 
entire  frame  of  thcb  new  man,  made  after  the  image  of  God, 
is  renewed  in  knowledge.  But,  as  notwithstanding  the 
circular  action  of  the  understanding  and  will  upon  one 
another,  there  must  be  a  beginning  of  this  course  some- 
where, and  the  understanding  is  usually  reckoned  the 
hycjioviKov,  the  first  mover,  the  leading  faculty  :  so,  notwith- 
standing the  mutual  influence  of  these  two  upon  each 
other,  seeing  hath  a  natural  precedency,  and  must  lead  the 
way  unto  being  like ;  which  is  sufficiently  intimated  in 
the  text,  "  I  shall  behold  thy  face,"  and  then  "  I  shall  be 
satisfied  with  thy  likeness ;"  and  more  fully  in  that  pa- 
rallel scripture,  "  We  shall  be  like  him,  for  we  shall  see 
him,"  6co,.  From  whence  also,  and  from  the  very  nature 
of  the  thii.jr^  "we  way  fitly  state  the  relation  of  the  first  of 
these  to  the  =^cond,  to  be  that  of  a  cause  to  its  eflect ; 
sight  begets  likeness,  is  antecedent  to  it,  and  productive 
of  it.  That  is,  the  face  or  glory  of  God  seen  ;  that  glory 
in  conjunction  with  our  vision  of  it ;  for  the  vision  ope- 
rates not,  but  according  iq  the  efficaciousness  of  the  thing 
seen  ;  nor  can  that  glory  have  any  such  operation,  but  by 
the  intervention  of  vision.  'Tis  therefore  the  glory  of  God 
seen,  as  seen,  that  assimilates,  and  impresses  its  likeness 

contented,  it  is  not  blessed  ;  and  it  is  by  being  so,  when  it  saith  "Now  I  am 
fully  sati.sfied,  I  have  enough,  I  desire  no  more."  ' 

a  Which  nece.ssity  of  a  iikene,ss  to  God  t/>  dispose  for  the  vi.iion  of  him,  is 
excellently  expressed  by  a  Platonic  pliilosopher.  The  Di\ine  nature  to  (isiov, 
which  he  saith,  is  liable  to  no  sense,  fiovoM  f,c  rwi  ttjj  ij/i)\i??  ),a,\>(s-(tii  Ka\ 
KaQapoiTariM.  Kai  vocp-.naTMi  Kill  kov<j>ot.ii,h,  Kai  TrpeofSxnariM  op'nrov 
df  ofioiornTa,  &c.  is  yet  visible  to  that  in  the  smd,  which  is  most  beavtiful, 
?iiost  pure,  vwst  jien^phuimm.  most  subtmie,  most  noble,  in  respect  ofacer- 
tain  similitiide  and  cognation  that  is  betxceen  thein.  Ma.i  Tyr 

b  Col.  iii.  10. 


Chap.  V. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS, 


205 


upon  the  beholding  soul ;  and  so  its  causality  is  that  of  an 
objective  cause,  (which,  whether  it  belong  to  the  eflicient 
or  final,  I  shall  not  here  dispute)  that  operates  only  as  it  is 
apprehended:  so  introducing  its  own  Ibrm  and  similitude 
into  the  subject  it  works  upon.  Such  a  kind  of  cause 
were  Jacob's  streaked  rods  of  the  production  that  ensued : 
and  such  a  cause  is  any  thing  whatever,  that  begins  an 
impression  upon  an  apprehensive  subject,  by  the  mediation 
and  ministry,  whether  of  the  fancy  or  unders-tanding. — 
This  kind  of  causality  the  word  hath  in  its  renewing, 
transforming  work ;  and  the  sacraments,  wherein  they 
are  causal  of  real  physical  mutations  on  the  subjects  of 
them.  So  much  of  the  image  of  God  as  is  here  impressed 
upon  souls  by  gospel -dispensations,  so  much  is  impressed 
of  his  glory.  The  work  of  grace  is  glory  begun.  And  now, 
as  glory  initial,  and  progressive  in  this  life,  enters  at  the  eye ; 
((^beholding  as  in  a  glass  the  glory  of  the  Lord,  we  are 
changed ;  .so  doth  perfect  and  consummate  glory  in  the  other 
life.  For  we  have  no  reason  to  imagine  to  ourselves  any 
alteration  in  the  natural  order  the  powers  of  the  soul  have 
towards  each  other,  by  its  passing  into  a  state  of  glory. 

The  object  seen,  is  unspeakably  ethcacious;  the  act  of 
intuition  is  full  of  lively  vigour  ;  the  subject  was  prepared 
and  in  a  disposition  before  ;  and  what  should  hinder,  but 
this  glorious  effect  should  immediately  ensue  1  as  the  sun 
no  sooner  puts  up  his  head  above  the  hemisphere,  but  all 
the  vast  space,  whither  it  can  diffuse  its  beams,  is  presently 
transformed  into  its  likeness,  and  turned  into  a  region  of 
light.  What  more  can  be  wanting  to  cause  all  the  dark- 
ness of  atheism,  carnality,  and  every  thing  of  sin,  forever 
to  vanish  out  of  the  awakening  soul,  and  an  entire  frame 
of  holiness  to  succeed;  but  one  such  transforming  sight  of 
the  face  of  God  1  One  sight  of  his  glorious  majesty  pre- 
sently subdues,  and  works  it  to  a  full  subjection ;  one  sight 
of  his  purity  makes  it  pure ;  one  sight  of  his  loveliness 
turns  it  into  love;  and  such  a  sight  always  remaining, 
the  impress  remains  always  actually  (besides  that  it  is  in 
itself  most  habitual  and  permanent,  in  the  soul's  noAV  con- 
firmed state)  fresh  and  lively. 

The  object  hath  quite  another  aspect  upon  a  wicked  soul, 
when  it  awakes;  and  the  act  of  seeing  is  of  another  kind; 
therefore  no  such  effect  follows.  Besides,  the  subject  is 
otherwise  disposed ;  and  therefore  a.s  the  sun  enlightens 
not  the  inward  parts  of  an  impervious  dunghill,  but  it  en- 
lightens air  ;  so  the  sight  of  God  transforms  and  assimi- 
lates at  last,  not  a  wicked,  but  it  doth  a  godly,  soul.  That 
which  here  makes  the  greate.st  difference  in  the  temper  of 
the  subject  is  love.  I  look  upt)n  the  face  of  a  stranger  and 
It  moves  me  not;  but  upon  a  friend,  and  his  face  presently 
transforms  mine  into  a  lively  cheerful  aspect.  dAs  an  iron 
sharpens  iron,  so  doth  the  face  of  a  man  his  friend  ;  puts 
a  sharpness  and  quickness  into  his  looks.  The  soul  that 
loves  God,  opens  itself  to  him,  admits  his  influences  and 
impressions,  is  easily  moulded  and  wrought  to  his  will, 
yields  to  the  transforming  power  of  his  appearing  glory. 
There  is  no  resistant  principle  remaining,  when  the  lov:e 
of  God  is  perfected  in  it;  and  so  overcoming  is  the  first 
sight  of  his  glory  upon  the  awaking  soul,  that  it  perfects 
it,  and  so  his  likeness,  bofh  at  once.  But  enmity  fortifies 
the  soul  against  him,  as  with  bars  and  doors ;  averts  it 
from  him;  carries  with  it  a  horrid,  guilty  consciousness, 
which  fills  it  with  eternal  despair  and  rage,  and  inwraps 
it  in  the  blackness  of  darkness  forever. 

2.  Both  the  vision  of  God,  and  likeness  to  him,  must  be 
considered  in  their  relation  to  the  consequent  sa.tisfaclion. 
and  the  influence  they  have  in  order  thereto.  I  say,  both  ; 
for  though  this  satisfaction  be  not  expre.ssly  and  directlv 
referred  by  the  letter  of  the  text,  to  the  sight  of  God's  face": 
yet  its  relation  thereto,  in  the  nature  of  the  thing,  issurti 
ciently  apprehensible  and  obvious  ;  both  mediate,  in  respect 
of  the  influence  it  hath  towards  the  satisfying  assimilation  ; 
and  immediate,  (which  we  are  now  to  consider,)  a.s  it  is  so 
highly  pleasurable  in  itself;  and  is  plainly  enough  intima- 
ted in  the  text;  being  applied,  in  the  same  breath,  to  a 
thing  so  immediately  and  intimately  conjunct  with  this 
vision,  as  we  find  it  is.  Moreover,  supposing  that  likeness 
here  do  (as  it  hath  been  granted  it  may)  signify  objective 

c  2  Cor.  iu.  18,  d  prov.  xxvii.  17. 

e  Psal.  xv\.  H. 

t  Acta  ii.  38.  which  indeed  is  the  Seventy's  reading  of  llie  PsaUnist's  words. 


glory  also,  as  well  a.s  subjective,  and  repeat  what  is  con- 
tained in  the  former  expression,  "  the  face  of  God,"  the  re- 
ference satisfaction  hath  to  this  vision  (which  the  re-men- 
tion of  its  object,  though  under  a  varied  lorm  ol  expres- 
sion, supposes)  will  be  more  express,  therefore  we  shall 
show,  1.  What  the  vision  of  the  Divine  glory  contributes 
to  the  satisfaction  of  the  blessed  soul,  and  what  felicity  it 
inust  needs  take  herein:  which  caruiot  but  be  very  great, 
whether  we  respect — the  glory  seen,  the  object  of  this 
vision  ;  or — the  act  of  vision,  or  intuition  itself. 

L  The  object,  the  glorj'  beheld.  What  a  spring  of 
pleasure  is  here  !  what  rivers  of  pleasures  flow  hence  ! 
"■In  thy  presence  (saith  the  Psalmist)  is  fulness  of  joy:  at 
thy  right  hand  are  pleasures  for  evermore.  The  awaking 
soul,  having  now  passed  the  path  of  life,  (drawn  through 
Sheol  itself,  the  state  of  deadly-head,)  appears  imme- 
diately in  this  presence;  and  what  makes  this  presence  so 
joyous,  but  the  pleasant  brightness  of  this  face  "?  To  be 
in  the  presence  of  any  one,  and  before  his  face,  in  con- 
spectu,  are  equivalent  expressions  ;  therefore  the  apostle, 
quoting  this  passage,  renders  it  thus,  fThou  hast  filled  me 
with  gladness,  by  thy  countenance  ;  now  in  this  glorious 
presence,  or  within  view  of  the  face  of  God,  is  fulne.ss  of 
joy,  i.  e.  joy  under  satisfaction.  And  the  Apostle  Jude, 
speaking  of  this  presence  under  this  name,  (a  presence  of 
glory,)  tells  as  of  an  '  exceeding  joy,  a  jubilation,  (an 
liyiUtao-i?,")  that  shall  attend  the  presentment  of  saints 
there.  Tne  holy  .soul  now  enters  the  divine  hShechinah, 
the  chamber  o.  presence  of  the  great  King,  the  habitation 
of  his  holiness  and  glory,  the  place  where  his  honour 
dwelleth.  Here  his  glory  surrounds  it  with  encircling 
beams;  'tis  beset  with  glory,  therefore  surely  also  filled 
with  joy.  When  the  vail  is  drawn  a-side;  or  we  are 
within  the  vail;  in  that  very  presence  whither  Jesus  the 
forerunner  is  for  us  entered,  (through  that  path  of  life,)  O 
the  satisfying  overcoming  pleasure  of  this  sight  !  Now 
that  is  to  us  revealed  or  unvailed  glory,  which  was  hid- 
den before.  Here  the  ^glory  set  in  majesty,  (as  the  expres- 
sion is,  concerning  the  glory  of  the  temple)  is  presented  to 
view  openly  and  without  umbrage.  God  is  now  no  longer 
seen  through  an  obscuring  medium.  They  are  not  now 
shadowed  glimmerings,  transient,  oblique  glances,  but  ihe 
direct  beams  of  full-e3'ed  glory,  that  shine  upon  us.  The 
discovery  of  this  glory  is  the  uUimate  product  of  that  in- 
finite wisdom  and  love,  th-at  have  been  working  from  e;er- 
nity,  and  for  so  many  thousand  years,  through  all  the 
successions  of  time,  towards  the  heirs  of  salvation.  The 
last  and  complete  issue  of  the  great  achievements,  sharp 
conflicts,  glorious  victories,  high  merits  of  our  mighty 
Redeemer.  All  these  end  in  the  opening  of  heaven  (the 
laying  of  this  glory  as  it  were  common)  to  all  believers. 
This  is  the  upshot  and  close  of  that  great  design:  will  it 
not,  think  ye,  be  a  satisfying  glory  ?  The  full  blessedness 
of  the  redeemed,  is  the  Redeemer's  reward.  He  cannot 
be  satisfied  in  seeing  his  seed,  if  they  should  be  unsatisfied. 
He  cannot  behold  them  with  content  if  his  heart  tell  him 
not,  that  he  hath  done  well  enough  for  them.  tGod  wouhl 
even  be  ashamed  to  be  called  their  God.  had  he  not  made 
provision  for  their  entertainment  worthy  of  a  God.  'Tis 
the  season  of  Christ's  triumphs,  and  saints  are  to  enter  into 
his  joy.  'Tis  the  appointed  jitbilee,  at  the  finishing  of  all 
God's  works  from  the  creation  of  the  world,  when  he  shall 
purposely  show  himself  in  his  most  adorable  majesty,  and 
when  CTirist  shall  appear  in  his  own  likeness ;  (he  appeared 
in  another  likeness  before  ;)  surely  glory  must  be  in  its 
exaltation  in  that  day.  But  take  a  more  distinct  account, 
how  grateful  a  sight  this  glory  will  be,  in  these  following 
particulars: 

L  It  is  the  Divine  glory.  Let  your  hearts  dwell  a 
little  upon  this  consideratrLin.  'Tis  the  glory  of  God,  i.  e. 
the  glory  which  the  blessed  God  both  enjoys  and  affords, 
which  he  contemplates  in  himself,  and  which  rays  from 
him  to  his  saints;  'tis  the  felicity  of  the  Divine  Being.  It 
satisfies  a  Deity,  will  it  not  a  worm  ?  'Tis  a  glory  that 
results  and  shines  from  him  :  and  in  that  sense  alsi>  divine, 
(which  here  I  mainly  intend,)  the  beauty  of  his  own  face, 
the  lustre  of  divine  perfections ;  every  attribute  bears  a 


I  Ezck,  vii. 


h  Ver  94. 
k  Heb.  zi.  l 


•206 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OP  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


Chap.  V 


part,  all  concur  to  make  up  this  gloi-y.  And  here  pre-  j 
termitting  those  which  are  less  liable  to  our  apprehension,  ' 
his  eternity,  immensity,  simplicity,  &c.  (of  which,  not 
having  their  like  in  us,  we  are  the  more  incapable  to  form 
distinct  conceptions,  and  consequently  of  perceiving  the 
pleasure  that  we  may  hereafter,  upon  the  removal  of 
other  impediments,  find  in  the  contemplation  of  them,)  let 
us  bethink  ourselves,  how  admirable  and  ravishing  the 
glory  will  be. 

1.  Of  his  unsearchable  wisdom,  which  hath  glory  pe- 
culiarly annexed  and  properly  belonging  to  it.  Glory  is, 
as  it  were,  by  inheritance,  due  to  wisdom.  iThe  wise  shall 
inherit  glory.  And  here  now,  the  blessed  souls  behold  it 
in  its  first  seat,  and  therefore  in  its  prime  glory :  wisdom, 
counsel,  understanding,  are  said  to  be  with  him;  as  if  no 
where  else.  Twice  we  have  the  apostle  describing  glory 
to  God,  under  the  notion  of  ™only  wise ;  which  is  but  an 
acknow>3dging  him  glorious  in  this  respect.  Wisdom,  we 
know,  is  the  proper  and  most  connatural  glory  of  intel- 
lectual nature  ;  whether  as  it  relates  to  speculation,  when 
we  call  it  knowledge;  or,  action,  when  'tis  prudence.  How 
pleasant  will  the  contemplation  be,  of  the  Divine  wisdom, 
in  that  former  notion  !  When  in  that  glass,  that  speculum 
alernitatis,  we  shall  have  the  lively  view  of  all  that  truth, 
the  knowledge  whereof  can  be  any  way  possible  and 
grateful  to  our  natures ;  and  in  his  light,  see  light !  When 
all  those  vast  treasures  of  wisdom  and  knowledge  which 
already,  by  their  alliance  to"  Christ,  saints  are  interested 
in,  shall  lie  open  to  us  !  When  the  tree  of  knowledge  shall 
be  without  enclosure  ;  and  the  most  voluptuous  epicurism, 
in  reference  to  it,  be  innocent  !  Where  there  shall  neither 
be  lust,  nor  forbidden  fruit ;  no  withholding  of  desirable 
knowledge,  nor  affectation  of  undesirable  !  When  the 
pleasure  of  speculation  shall  be  without  the  toil ;  and  that 
maxim  be  eternall)'^  antiquated,  that  increased  knowledge 
increases  sorrow !  As  to  the  other  notion  of  it ;  how  can 
it  be  less  grateful  to  behold  the  wisdom  that  made  and 
governed  the  world ;  that  compassed  so  great  designs  "^  and 
this,  no  longer  in  its  effects,  but  in  itself  1  Those  Avorks 
were  honourable  and  glorious,  sought  of  all  them  that  have 
pleasure  in  them.  What  will  be  the  glory  of  their  cause  1 
It  would  gratify  some  men's  curiosity  to  behold  the  unusi;al 
motion  of  some  rare  autcmaton;  but  an  ingenious  person 
would,  with  much  more  pleasure,  pry  into  the  secret  springs 
of  that  motion,  and  observe  its  inward  frame  and  parts, 
and  their  dependence  and  order  to  each  other.  'Tis  come- 
ly to  behold  the  exterior  economy  of  a  well  governed  peo- 
ple, when  great  affairs  are,  by  orderly  conduct,  brought  to 
happy  issues  ;  but  to  have  been  at  the  helm;  to  have  seen 
the  pertinent,  proper  application  of  such  and  such  maxims 
to  the  incident  cases ;  to  have  >.nown  all  the  reasons  of 
state  ;  heard  debates ;  observed  with  what  great  sagacity 
inconveniencies  have  been  foreseen,  and  with  w^hat  dili- 
gence prevented;  would  much  more  gratify  an  inquiring 
genius.  When  the  records  of  eternity  shall  be  exposed  to 
view ;  all  the  counsels  and  results  of  that  profound  wisdom 
looked  into :  how  will  it  transport  !  when  it  shall  be  dis- 
cerned, Lo !  thus  were  the  designs  laid  ;  here  were  the 
apt  junctures,  and  admirable  dependencies  of  things ; 
which,  when  acted  upon  the  stage  of  the  world,  seemed  so 
perplexed  and  cross,  so  full  of  mysterious  intricacy  !  If 
St.  Paul  were  so  ravished  at  those  more  obscure  appear- 
ances of  Divine  wisdom,  which  we  find  him  admiring, 
(Rom.  xi.  33.)  O  the  depths,  &c.  what  satisfaction  will  it 
yield,  to  have  a  perfect  model  of  the  deep  thoughts  and 
counsels  of  God  presented  to  open  view !  How  is  the 
happiness  of  Solomon's  servants  magnified,  that  had  the 
privilege  continually  to  .stand  before  him,  and  hear  his 
wisdom !  But  this  happiness  will  be  proportionably  greater, 
as  Solomon's  God  is  greater  than  he. 

2.  The  glory  of  his  power  will  add  comeliness  to  the 
object  of  this  vision.  Power  duly  placed  and  allayed  is 
lovely.  Beauty  consists  much  in  a  symmetry  or  proportion 
of  parts.  So  must  there  be  a  concurrence  of  Divine  per- 
fections, to  compose  and  make  up  the  beautiful  complexion 
of  his  face ;  to  give  us  a  right  a.spect,  the  true  idea  of  God  : 
and  here  his  power  hath  a  necessary  ingrediency.     How 

1  Prov.  iii  35.    Job  xii.  m  Rom.  xvi.  27.    1  Tim.  i.  17 

n  Col.  ii.  3.  o  Kparoi  rns  dJ^m-  <"ol.  i.  11. 

P  Rom.  vi.  4.  q  Cliap.  iii.  16.  r  Job  %xvi.  9. 


incoherent,  and  disagreeing  with  itself,  were  the  notion 
of  an  impotent  God !  His  power  gives  lively  strokes  to  his 
glor)'.  'Tis  called"  glorious  power,  or  the  power  of  glory; 
yea,  'tis  simply  called  glory  itself:  the  apostle  tells  usp 
Christ  was  raised  from  the  dead  by  the  glory  of  the  Father, 
when  'tis  plain  he  means  power.  And  the  same  apostle 
prays  on  the  behalf  of  the  lEphesians,  'that  God  would 
grant  them  according  to  the  riches  of  his  glory  to  be 
strengthened  with  might,  &c.  How  frequently  are  power 
and  glory  ascribed  to  him  in  conjunction  !  intimating  that, 
as  he  is  powerful,  he  is  glorious.  And  certainly,  even  this 
glory  cannot  but  cast  a  grateful  aspect  upon  the  blessed 
soul,  and  be  infinitely  pleasant  to  behold.  What  triumphs 
doth  it  now  raise  in  gracious  spirits,  to  behold  the  "  exer- 
tions of  it  in  his  works ;  to  read  its  descriptions  in  his 
word  ;  while  as  yet  he  holds  back  the  face  of  his  throne ; 
while  the  countenance  of  enthroned  majesty  cannot  be 
seen  ;  when  so  little  a  portion  is  heard  of  him,  and  the 
thunder  of  his  =  power  so  little  understood  !  The  infi- 
nitely fainter  rays  of  this  power  in  a  creature  ;  power  in 
that  unspeakable  diminution  and  abatement ;  that  derived, 
precarious  power;  when  'tis  innocently  used,  is  observed 
with  pleasure.  Here  is  power  in  the  throne,  power  in  its 
chief  and  highest  seat ;  essential,  and  self-originated  power ; 
the  root  and  fountain,  the  very  element  of  power ;  power 
in  its  proper  situation,  in  its  native  place,  to  which  it  be- 
longs.t  God  hath  spoken  once,  twice  have  I  heard  this, 
that  power  belongeth  unto  God.  It  languishes  in  a  crea- 
ture, as  in  an  alien  subject.  If  I  speak  of  strength,  lo, 
he  is  strong,  "  saith  Job ;  q.  d.  "  Created  power  is  not 
woTth  the  speaking  of;  here  is  the  power  that  deserves 
the  name,  that  is  so  indeed."  How  satisfying  a  pleasure 
will  this  afford,  to  contemplate  this  radical  power  I  this 
all-creating,  all-ruling  power,  the  principle  of  all  action, 
motion  and  life,  throughout  the  whole  creation  !  This  wil. 
be  as  natural  a  pleasure,  as  the  child  takes  in  the  mother's 
bosom,  and  in  embracing  the  womb  that  bare  it.  How 
grateful  to  behold  whence  the  vast  fi  ame  of  nature  sprang . 
what  stretched  out  the  heavens,  established  the  earth,  sus- 
tained all  things  !  what  turned  the  mighty  wheels  of  Pro- 
vidence, throughout  all  the  successions  of  time  !  what  or- 
dered and  changed  times  and  seasons,  chained  up  devils 
restrained  the  outrages  of  a  tumultuous  world,  preserved 
God's  little  flock  !  especially,  what  gave  being  to  the 
new  creation  1^  (the  exceeding  greatness  of  power  that 
wrought  in  them  that  believed,  &c.)  what  made  hearts 
love  God,  embrace  a  Saviour  !  what  it  was  that  over- 
camey  their  own,  and  made  them  a  willing  people  in  that 
memorable  day !  How  delightful  a  contemplation  to 
think,  with  so  enlarged  an  understanding,  of  the  possible 
effects  of  this  power;  and  so  far  as  a  creature  can  range 
into  infinity,  to  view  innumerable  creations,  in  the  creative 
power  of  God  !  And  yet  how  pleasant  to  think,  not  only  of 
the  extents,  but  of  the  restraints  of  this  power ;  and  how, 
when  none  could  limit,  it  became  ordinate,  and  did  limit 
itself!  that  since  it  could  do  so  much,  it  did  no  more ;  turned^ 
not  sooner  a  degenerous  world  ^into  flames ;  withheld  itself 
from  premature  revenge,  that  had  abortived  the  womb  of 
love,  and  cut  off  all  the  hopes  of  this  blessed  eternity  that 
is  now  attained  !  This  also  speaks  the  greatness  of  power : 
"^  Let  the  power  of  my  Lord  be  great,  according  as  thou 
hast  spoken,  the  Lord  is  gracious,  long-suffering,  &c. — 
This  was  his  mightiest  power,  whereby  he  overcame  him- 
self:  Portior  est  qui  se,  &c. 

3.  And  what  do  we  think  of  the  ravishing  aspects  of  his 
love,  when  it  shall,  now,  be  open  faced,  and  have  laid 
aside  its  vail !  when  his  amiable  smiles  shall  be  checkered 
with  no  intermingled  frowns ;  the  light  of  that  pleasing 
countenance  be  obscured  by  no  intervening  cloud  !  when 
goodness,  which  is  love  issuing  into  benefaction,  or  doing 
good ;  grace,  which  adds  freeness  unto  goodness ;  mercy, 
which  is  grace  towards  the  miserable ;  shall  conspire  in 
their  distinct,  and  variegated  appearances  to  set  off  each 
other,  and  enhance  the  pleasure  of  the  admiring  soul ! 
when  the  wonted  doubts  shall  all  cease,  and  the  difficulty 
vanish,  of  reconciling  (once  necessary)  fatherly  severity 
with  love !  when  the  full  sense  shall  be  unfolded  to  the 


s  Ver.  It. 

u  Chap  xxvi. 

z  Posse  et  nolle  iiobilo. 


t  Psal  I.\ii.  11.    Power  to  God,  Hcbr. 
X  Eplu  i.  19,  20.  y  Psal.  ex.  3. 

a  Numb.  xiv.  17,18. 


CriAP.  V. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


207 


life,  ofthatdesci'iption  of  the  Divine  nature,  "God  is  love;" 
and  the  soul  be  no  longer  put  to  rtad  ihe  love  of  God  in 
his  name,  (as  Moses  was  when  the  sight  of  his  face  could 
not  yet  be  obtained,)  shall  not  need  to  spell  it  by  letters  and 
syllables;  but  behold  it  in  his  very  nature  itself,  and  see 
how  intimately  essential  it  is  to  the  Divine  Being !  How 
glorious  will  this  appearance  of  God  be,  (we,  now,  hear, 
something  of  the  glory  of  his  grace,)  and  how  satisfying  the 
tuition  of  that  glory!  Now  is  the  proper  season  for  the  full 
exercise  and  discovery  of  love.  This  day  hath  been  long 
expected,  and  lo,  now  'tis  dawned  upon  the  awakening  soul ; 
it's  now  called  forth;  its  senses  unbound  ;  all  its  powers  in- 
spirited, on  purpose,  for  love-visions  and  enjoyments:  'tis 
now  to  take  its  fill  of  loves.  The  apostle's  ecstatical  prayer 
is  now  answered  to  the  highest  degree  possible  with  re- 
spect to  such  a  one.  He  is  now,  "^according  to  the  riches 
of  Divine  glory,  strengthened  with  might,  by  the  Spirit, 
in  the  inner  man — to  comprehend  with  all  saints,  what 
is  the  breadth,  and  length,  and  depth,  and  height ;  to 
know  that  love  that  passeth  knowledge,  &c.  He  shall  now 
no  longer  stand  amazed,  spending  his  guesses,  what  manner 
of  love  this  should  be ;  and  expecting  fuller  discoveries, 
further  effects  of  it,  that  did  not  yet  appear ;  but  sees  the 
utmost,  all  that  his  soul  can  bear,  or  wish  to  see.  He  hath 
now  traced  home  the  rivulets  to  their  fountain,  the  beams 
to  the  very  sun  of  love.  He  hath  got  the  prospect,  at  last, 
into  that  heart,  where  the  great  thoughts  of  love  were 
lodged  from  everlasting ;  where  all  its  counsels  and  de- 
signs were  formed.  He  sees  what  made  God  become  a 
man ;  what  clothed  a  Deity  with  human  flesh ;  what  made 
eternity  become  the  birth  of  time,  when  come  to  its  partu- 
rient d  fulness ;  what  moved  the  heart  of  the  Son  of  God 
to  pitch  his  tabernacle  among  men ;  what  engaged  him  to 
the  enterprise  of  redeeming  sinners;  what  moved  him  so 
earnestly  to  contest  with  a  perishing  world,  led  him  at  last 
to  the  cross,  made  him  content  to  become  a  sacrifice  to 
God,  a  spectacle  to  angels  and  men,  in  a  bitter  reproachful 
death,  inflicted  by  the  sacrilegious  hands  of  those  whom 
he  was  all  this  while  designing  to  save.  The  amazed  soul 
now  sees  into  the  bottom  of  this  design  ;  understands  why 
itself  was  not  made  a  prey  to  Divine  revenge;  whence  it 
was,  that  it  perished  not  in  its  enmity  against  God ;  that 
he  was  not  provoked  by  the  obstinacy  of  its  disobedience, 
and  malice  of  its  unbelief,  beytmd  the  possibility  of  an 
atonement;  why  he  so  long  suffered  its  injurious  neglects 
of  him,  and  unkind  repulses  of  a  merciful  Saviour;  and 
persuaded,  till  at  last  he  overcame,  made  the  averse  heart 
yield,  the  careless  disaffected  soul  cry  out,  "Where  is  my 
God  ?"  Now  a  Christ,  or  I  perish  1  All  this  is  now  re- 
solved into  love ;  and  the  adoring  .soul  sees  how  well  the 
effects  agree  to  their  cause,  and  are  owned  by  it.  Nothing 
but  heaven  itself,  that  gives  the  sense,  can  give  the  notion 
of  this  pleasure. 

4.  Nor  will  the  glory  of  holiness  be  less  resplendent ; 
that  great  attribute  which,  even  in  a  remote  descent  from 
its  original,  is  frequently  mentioned  with  the  adjunct  of 
"^beauties.  What  loveliness  will  those  beauties  add  to  this 
blessed  face  !  Not  here  to  insist  (which  is  besides  my  pur- 
pose) upon  the  various  notions  of  holiness  :f  real  holiness 
Scripture  states  in  purity,  an  alienation  from  sin ;  'tis  set 
in  opposition  to  all  filthiness,  to  all  moral  impurity:  and 
in  that  notion  it  best  agrees  to  God;  and  comprehends  his 
righteousne.ss  and  veracity,  and  indeed,  whatever  we  can 
conceive  in  him,  under  the  notion  of  a  moral  excellency. 
This  may  therefore  be  styled  a  transcendental  attribute, 
that  as  it  were  runs  through  the  rest,  and  casts  a  glory 
upon  every  one:  'tis  an  attribute  of  attributes.  Those 
are  fit  predications,  holy  power,  holy  truth,  holy  love, 
&c.  And  so  it  is  the  very  lustre  and  glory  of  his  other 
perfections;  ?he  is  glorious  in  holiness.  Hence  in  mat- 
ters of  greatest  moment,  he  is  sometimes  brought  in  i> 
swearing  by  his  holiness,  (which  he  is  not  wont  to  do 
by  any  one  single  attribute,)  as  though  it  were  a.  fuller 

b  Eph.  i.  6.  c  Epti.  iii.  16,  17,  18, 19. 

d  Gal.  iv.  4.  e  Psal.  ex.  3,  &c. 

f  2  Cor.  vii.  I.  s  Exod.  xv.  11. 

li  Psal.  hxxix.  35.    Amos  iv.  2. 

i  1  .Sam.  \i. 

k  Exod.  XV.  11.     1  Sam.  ii.  2.    Psal.  xxx.  ).  xcvii   12. 

I  Si  ergo  pnlihritndo  di\ina  noiidiim  visa,  sed  solum  crcdita  et  sporala,  tan- 
turn  i^em  desiderii  c.xcitat :  Quid  taciet  cum.  romnto  vplo.  ut  est  iu  sp  ron- 
ipicitur'Omiiiiio  id  faciei  ut  torreute  voluptatis  illiua  iiiebriuti,  neijue  veliiiuis. 


ezyression  of  himself,  an  adaquatior  conceptits,  than  any  of 
the  rest. 

What  is  of  so  great  an  account  with  him,  will  not  be  of 
least  account  with  his  holy  ones,  when  they  appear  in  his 
glorious  presence.  Their  own  holiness  is  a  conformity  to 
his ;  the  likeness  of  it.  And  a.s  their  beholding  it  forms 
them  into  that  likem;.ss;  so  that  likeness  makes  them 
capable  of  beholding  it  with  plea.sure.  Divine  holiness 
doih  now  more  ravish  than  affright.  This  hath  been  the 
language  of  sinful  dust.i  Who  can  stand  before  this  holy 
God'!  when  holiness  haih  appeared  armed  with  terrors, 
guarded  with  flames,  and  the  Divine  Majestj'  been  repre- 
sented as  a  consuming  fire.  Such  apprehensions  sin  and 
guilt  naturally  beget;  the  sinners  of  Sion  were  afiaid. 
But  so  far  as  the  new  man  is  put  on,  created  after  God, 
and  they,  who  were  darkness,  are  made  light  in  the  Lord, 
he  is  not  under  any  notion  more  acceptable  to  them,  than 
as  he  is  the  Holy  One.  They  love  his  lav,  because  holy ; 
and  love  each  other  because  holy;  and  hate  themselves 
because  they  are  no  more  so.  Holiness  hath  still  a  pleasing 
aspect  when  they  find  it  in  an  ordinance,  meet  it  in  a  sab- 
bath; every  glimpse  of  it  is  lovely.  But  with  what  tri- 
umphs hath  the  holiness  of  God  himself  been  celebrated 
even  by  saints  on  earth  Ik  Who  is  a  God  like  unto  thee, 
glorious  in  holiness !  There  is  none  holy  as  the  Lord,  for 
there  is  none  besides  thee.  Sing  unto  the  Lord,  all  ye  saints 
of  his,  and  give  thanks  at  the  remembrance  of  his  holiness. 
What  thoughts  will  they  have  of  it,i  when  their  eyes  can 
behold  that  glory ;  when  they  immediately  look  on  the 
archet>T)al  holiness,  of  which  their  own  is  but  the  image ; 
andean  view  that  glorious  pattern,  they  were  so  long  in 
framing  to  1  How  joyfully  will  they  then  fall  in  with  the 
rest  of  the  heavenly  host ;  and  join  in  the  same  adoration 
and  praise,  in  the  same  acclamation  and  triumphant  song, 
Holy,  holy,  holy.  Lord  God  of  Sabaoth  !  How  uncon- 
ceivable is  the  pleasure  of  this  sight ;  when  the  dvrn  Ka>6v, 
the  first  pulchritude,  the  original  beauty  offers  it.self  to 
view!  Holiness  is  intellectual  beauty;  Divine  holiness  is 
the  most  perfect  and  the  measure  of  all  other;  and  what  is 
the  pleasure  and  satisfaction,  of  which  we  speak,  but  the 
perfection  and  rest  of  love  "?  Now"  love,  as  love,  respects 
and  connotes  a  pulchritude  in  its  object.  And  then  the 
most  perfect  pulchritude,  the  ineffable  and  immortal  pul- 
chritude, that  cannot  be  declared  by  words,  or  seen  with 
eyes,  (they  are  a  heathen's"  expressions  concerning  it,) 
how  can  it  but  perfectly  and  eternally  plea.-^e  and  satisfy  1 

And  we  are  told  by  the  great  pagan  theologue,"  in  what 
state  we  can  have  the  felicii}'^  of  that  s^jectacle.  Not  in  our 
present  state;  when  we  have,  indeed,  but  obscure  repre- 
sentations of  such  things  as  are,  with  souls  of  highest  ex- 
cellency ;  but  when  we  are  associated  to  the  llcsscd  quire  ;P 
When  we  are  delivered  from  the  body;  (which  we  now 
carry  about,  as  the  oyster  doth  its'^  shell ;)  M'hen  we  are  no 
longer  sensible  of  the  evils  of  time.  When  we  wholly  ap- 
ply ourselves  to  that  blessed  vision;  are  admitted  to  the 
beholding  of  the  simple  permanent  sights ;  and  behold 
them,''  being  ourselves  pure,  in  the  pure  light :  then  have 
we  the  view  of  the  bright  shining  jmlchriiude,  &c. 

2.  It  is  an  entire  or  united  glory.  We  have  some- 
thing of  the  Divine  glory  shining  now  upon  us;  but  the 
many  interpositions  cause  a  various  refraction  of  its  light. 
We  have  but  its  dispersed  rays,  its  scattered,  dishevelled 
beams :  we  shall  then  have  it  perfect  and  full.  'TIS  the 
eternal  glory  we  are  hereafter  to  behold.  Eternity  (as 
the  notion  of  it  is  wont  to  be  stated)  is  a  duration  that  ex- 
cludes both  succession  and  end.  And  if  it  be  an  unsnc- 
cessive  duration,  (thou£:h  it  is  more  difficult  to  apprehend 
how  the  being  or  enjoyments  of  a  creature  can  come  under 
that  mensuration,  or  how  there  can  he  any  such,)  the  glory 
presented  to  the  view  of  a  blessed  soul,  cannot  be  presented 
by  parcels,  but  at  once.^  In  our  temporary  state,  while  we 
are  under  the  measure  of  time,  we  are  not  capable  of  the 
fulness  of  blessedness  or  misery ;  for  time  exists  not  altc 

neque  possimus,  vcl  nd  punctum  tpmix)ris,  oculos  ab  ea  djvcrtarp.  Bollami- 
dc  asceus.  mentis  ad  Deimi,  grad.  2. 

in  Max.  Tyr  dissert.  11.  n  Id.  ibid. 

o  Plato  in  Phsrdro  pa.4sim.  (Though  he  there  sptalis  these  tilings  as  the 
memoirs  of  his  supix)sed  pre-existciit  soul.) 

p  E"('"i/ioii  \"(J<J. 

q  'Orptov  TfjitTTiif. 

r  'E"  jm  r)t  KaOapai,  iadaooi  nrrf?,  urnAXoj  >a/ir/Ooi'. 

s  .lEteriiitus  est  intemiiiiabiiis  vita  tola  siniul  et  periccta  jiossessio.    Boeth. 


208 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


Chap.  VI 


gether  but  by  parts.  And  indeed  we  can  neither  enjoy 
nor  suffer  more,  at  once,  than  can  be  compassed  within  one 
moment;  for  no  more  exists  together.  But  our  relation 
to  eternity  (according  to  this  notion  of  it)  will  render  the 
same  invariable  appearance  of  glory,  always  presentaneous 
to  us,  in  the  entire  fulness  of  it.  We  read  indeed'  of  cer- 
tain ir^pfifara  iri^  eoj(,  aftcrhigs  of  faith,  {a.s  it  may  he  signifi- 
cantly enough  rendered,  let  but  the  novelty  of  the  expres- 
sion be  pardoned,)  things  lacking  we  read  it ;  but  there 
will  be  here  no  Wf^pftjiara  Jtff/j;,  afte rings  of  glory.  What  is 
perfect  admits  no  increase;  'tis  already  "full :  and  why 
should  not  a  full  glory  satisfy  ?  There  is  here  no  expecta- 
tion of  (greater)  future,  to  abate  the  pleasure  of  present 
discoveries.  Why  therefore  shall  not  this  satisfaction  be 
conceived  full  and  perfect  1     It  must  be  the  fulness  of  joy. 

3.  'Tis  permanent  glory ;  a  never  fading,  unwithering 
glory,"  (a^Oa^ros  anapavTix;,)  glory  that  will  never  be  sullied, 
or  obscured,  never  be  in  a  declination.  This  blessed  face 
never  grows  old ;  never  any  wrinkle  hath  place  in  it.  'Tis 
the  eternal  glory,  (in  the  other  part  of  the  notion  of  eter- 
nity,) as  it  imports  an  endless  duration,  neither  subject  to 
decay,  in  itself,  nor  to  injury,  or  impairment,''  from  with- 
out. As  stable  as  the  Divine  Being;  Thy  God,  thy  glory; 
the  Lord  thy  everlasting  light :  if  that  have  a  true  sense 
with  respect  to  any  of  the  church  militant  on  earth,  it  must 
needs  have  a  more  full  sense,  in  reference  to  it  triumph- 
ing in  heaven.  As,  therefore,  full  entire  glory  affoids  ful- 
ness of  joy ;  permanent,  everlasting  glory  affords  y  plea- 
sures for  evermore. 

4.  An  appropriate  glory,  even  to  them  'tis  so ;  a  glory 
wherein  they  are  really  interested.  'Tis  the  glory  of  their 
God,  and  tlieir  happiness  is  designed  to  them  from  it. 
They  are  not  unconcerned  in  it,  as  'tis  the  glory  of  God. 
It  cannot  but  be  grateful  to  them  to  behold  the  shining 
glory  of  their  God;  whom  they  feared  and  served  before, 
while  they  could  have  no  such  sight  of  him.  That  glory 
of  his  was  once  under  a  cloud,  concealed  from  the  world, 
wrapt  up  in  obscvrrity :  it  now  breaks  the  cloud,  and  jus- 
tifies the  fear  and  reverence  of  his  faithful  and  loyal  ser- 
vants, against  atheistical  rebels,  that  feared  him  not.  'Tis 
infinitely  pleasing  to  see  him  now  so  glorioiis,  whom  they 
thought  to  have  a  glory  beyond  all  their  conceptions  before ; 
while  others  would  not  think  so  of  him,  but  judged  it  safe 
to  slight  and  set  him  at  nought.  Subjects  share  in  their 
prince's  glory,  children  in  their  father's.  But  besides  that 
collateral  interest,  that  interest  by  reflection,  they  have  a 
more  direct  interest  in  this  glory.  A  true  and  real  right, 
upon  a  manifold  title :  the  Father's  gift.  Son's  purchase. 
Holy  Ghost's  obsignation  and  earnest ;  the  promises'  ten- 
der ;  their  faith's  acceptance ;  their  forerunner's  prepos- 
session: yea,  'tis  their  ^  inheritance;  they  are  children  and 
therefore  heirs,  heirs  of  God  and  joint  heirs  with  Christ,  to 
the  same  glory  with  him.  They  are  by  him  received  to 
the  glory  of  God,  called  to  his  kingdom  and  glory.  Will 
it  not  contribute  exceedingly  to  their  satisfaction,  when  they 
shall  look  upon  this  glory,  not  as  unconcerned  spectators, 
but  as  interested  persons'!  This  is  my  happiness,  to  be- 
hold and  enjoy  this  blessed  God !  What  a  rapturous  ex- 
pression is  that,m  God  our  own  God  shall  bless  us ;  and 
that,  Thy  God  thy  glory !  Upon  interest  in  God,  follows 
their  interest  in  his  glory  and  blessedness ;  which  is  so 
much  the  dearer,  and  more  valuable,  as  it  is  theirs:  their 
glory,  from  their  God.  They  shall  be  blessed  by  God, 
their  own  God  ;  drink  waters  out  of  their  own  well.  How 
endearing  a  thing  is  propriety  !  Another  man's  son  is  in- 
genious, comely,  personable,  this  may  be  a  matter  of  envy ; 
but  mine  own  is  so,  this  is  a  joy.  I  read  in  the  life  of  a 
devout  nobleman  of  France,"  that  receiving  a  letter  from  a 
friend,  in  which  were  inserted  these  words,  Dcus  vieus,  et 
omnia;  My  God,  andviy  all ;  he  thus  returns  back  to  him, 
"  I  know  not  what  your  intent  was,  to  put  into  your  letter 
these  words,  Dcus  mens,  et  omnia, ;  My  God,  and  my  all ; 
only  you  invite  me  thereby  to  return  the  same  to  you,  and 

1 1  "DiesB.  iii.  10. 

u  1  Pet.  i.  3.    2  Cor.  iv.  17.    2  Tim.  ii.  10.    1  Pet.  v.  10. 

X  Isa.  Ix.  14.  y  P.sat  xvi.  11. 

z  Rom.  viii.  17.  cli.  rv.  7.    1  Thees.  ii.  12. 

ni  Psalm  Ixvii.  6. 

n  Monsieur  de  Renti. 

a  Res  simt  perfectiores  vel  imperfectiorcs  prout  a  summa  perfecfione  mapiB 
vclminime  abscedunt.  Pet.  Moliii.  <Ie  cogiiitione  Dei.  See  Culvei-wel  of  llie 
lii'ht  of  natiuc,  spcaliing  (as  I  remember)  to  tliw  purpose,  c.  17.    Quocirca  et 


to  all  creatures;  My  God,  and  my  all;  my  God,  and  my 
all ;  my  God,  and  my  all.  If  perhaps  you  take  this  for 
your  motto,  and  use  it  to  express  how  full  your  heart  is  of 
it;  think  you  it  possible  I  should  be  silent  upon  such  an 
invitation,  and  not  express  my  sense  thereof  1  Likewise, 
be  it  known  unto  you  therefore,  that  he  is  my  God  and  my 
all ;  and  if  you  doubt  of  it,  I  shall  speak  it  a  hundred 
times  over.  I  shall  add  no  more;  for  any  thing  else  is 
superfluous,  to  him  that  is  truly  penetrated  with  my  God, 
and  my  all.  I  leave  you  therefore  in  this  happy  state  of 
jubilation ;  and  conjure  you,  to  beg  for  me,  of  God,  the 
solid  sense  of  these  words."  And  do  we  think.  My  God 
and  my  all,  or  my  God,  and  my  glory,  will  have  lost  its 
emphasis  in  heaven  1  or  that  it  will  be  less  significan. 
among  awaked  souls  1  These  things  concur  then,  concern- 
ing the  object:  'tis  most  excellent,  (even  divine,)  entire 
permanent,  and  theirs:  how  can  it  but  satisfy! 


CHAPTER  VL 

What  the  vision  of  God's  face  contributes  to  the  soul's  satisfaction,  estimated 
from  the  consideration  of  tJie  act  of  vision  itself  Wherein  this  pleasure  sur- 
passes that  of  sense.  A  comparison  pursued  more  at  large,  between  thia 
intuition  and  discoiu^e,  between  it  and  faith.  Tlils  intuition  more  absolutely 
con*iidered:  Its  characters,  and  what  they  contribute  to  the  satisfaction  of 
the  blessed  soul;  That  it  is,  Viz.  efficacious,  compreliensive,  lived,  appro- 
priative. 

2.  The  act  of  vision,  or  intuition  itself.  How  great  the 
pleasure  will  be  that  accrues  to  the  blessed  from  this  sight 
of  God's  face,  is  very  much  also  to  be  estimated  from  the=^ 
nature  of  the  act,  as  well  as  the  excellency  of  the  object. 
Inasmuch  as  every  vital  act  is  pleasant,  the  most  perfect 
act  of  the  noblest  faculty  of  the  soul  must  needs  be  at- 
tended with  highest  pleasure.  'Tis  a  pleasure  that  most 
nearly  intimates  divine  pleasure.  And  every  thing  is  more 
perfect,  as  it  more  nearly  approaches  divine  perfections. 
Intellectual  pleasure  is  as  much  nobler  than  that  of  sense, 
as  an  immortal  spirit  is  more  noble  than  a  clod  of  earth. 
The  pleasure  of  sense  is  drossy,  feculent,  the  pleasure  of 
the  mind  refined  and  pure  ;  that  is  faint  and  languid,  this 
lively  and  vigorous  ;  that,  scant  and  limited,  this,  ample 
and  enlarged  ;  that,  temporary  and  fading,  this,  durable 
and  permanent ;  that,  flashy,  superficial,  this,  solid  and  in- 
tense ;  that,  raving  and  distracted,  this,  calm  and  composed. 
Whence  even  that  great  reputed  sensualist,  Epicurus  him- 
self, professedly  disclaims,  or  is  represented  as  disclaim- 
ing, the  conceit  of  placing  happiness  in  sensual  delights. 

And  as  the  pleasure  of  intellection  excels  all  the  plea- 
sure of  sense ;  so  doth  the  pleasure  of  intuition  excel  all 
other  intellectual  pleasure.  Let  us,  to  this  purpose,  but 
consider,  generally,  this  way  of  knowing  things,  and  com- 
pare it  with  those  two  other  ways,  by  discourse  and  by 
faith. 

1.  Discourse.  I  mean  (that  I  be  not  mistaken  by  the 
vulgar  reader)  the  discourse  of  the  mind,  or  ratiocination  ; 
that  way  of  attaining  the  knowledge  of  things,  by  compa- 
ring one  thing  with  another,  considering  their  mutual  rela- 
tions, connexions,  dependencies  ;  and  so  arguing  out,  what 
was  more  doubtful  and  obscure,  from  what  was  more  known 
and  evident.  To  the  altogether  unlearned  it  will  hardly 
be  conceivable,  and  to  the  learned  it  need  not  be  told,  how 
high  a  gratification  this  emplo3anent  of  his  reason  naturally 
)delds  to  the  mind  of  a  man  ;  when  the  harmonious  con- 
texture of  truths  with  truths,  the  apt  coincidence,  the 
secret  links  and  junctures  of  co-herent  notions,  are  clearly 
discerned :  when  effects  are  traced  up  to  their  b  causes, 
properties  lodged  in  their  native  subjects,  things  sifted  to 
their  principles.  What  a  pleasure  is  it,  when  a  man  shall 
apprehend  himself  regularly  led  on  (though  but  by  a  slen- 
der thread  of  discourse)  through  the  labyrinths  of  nature ; 
when  still  new  discoveries  are  successfully  made,  every 
further  inquiry  ending  in  a  further  prospect,  and  every  new 

ciun  universe  voluptatem  beatse  vitae  esse  finem  dicimus  ;  longe  profecto  absu- 
mus,  lit  cas  voUiptates,  (juie  sunt  vironmi  lu.\u  diffluentium,  aut  alioruni  ctioni, 
qiiatenus  spectantur  in  ipsa  motione,  actioneve  fniendi ;  qua  nimimm  seraus 
jiicunde  dulciterque  afficitiu',  inielligamus  ;  veluti  nuidam  rem  ignorantes,  aut  a 
nobis  dissentientes,  aut  ahoquin  adversum  nos  male  aiteeti.  intcrpretantur :  sed 
iiliid  duntnxat  (ut  res  itcrum  dicatur)  intellifimus  :  non  dolen' corpore  ;  animo 
nnn  jierturbari.  Gaseend.  Syntag.  Philos.  Epicur.  See  liis  Epistle  to  Mcno- 
ccus  in  D.  Laert. 
b  Felix  qui  potuit  rerum  cognoscere  causos. 


Chap.  VI. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


309 


scene  of  things  entertaining  the  mind  \\  itli  a  fresh  delight  I 
How  many  have  suffered  a  voluntary  banishment  from  the 
world,  as  if  they  were  wholly  strangers,  and  unrelated  to 
it;  rejected  the  blandishments  of  sen.'re;  macerated  them- 
selves with  unwearied  studies,  for  this  pleasure ;  making 
the  ease  and  heaUh  of  their  bodies  to  give  place  to  the 
content  aird  satisfaction  of  their  minds!  But  how  much 
intuition  hath  tlie  advantage,  above  this  way  of  knowledge, 
may  be  seen  in  these  two  obvious  respects. 

1.  'Tis  a  more  facile  way  of  knowing.  ''Here  is  no  need 
of  a  busy  searcii,  a  tiresome  indagation,  (the  diJiiculty 
whereof  makes  the  more  slothful  rather  trust  than  try,)  a 
ciiaining  together  of  consequences.  The  soul  hath  its 
clothing  (its  vestment  of  light)  upon  as  cheap  terms  as  the 
lilies  theirs;  doth  neither  toil  nor  spin  for  it;  and  yet 
Solomon,  in  all  the  glory  of  his  famed  wisdom,  was  not 
arrayed  like  it.  This  knowledge  saves  the  expense  of 
study ;  is  instantaneous,  not  successive.  The  soul  now  sees 
more,  at  one  view,  in  a  moment,  than  before  in  a  life's-lime : 
as  a  man  hath  a  speedier  and  more  grateful  prospect  of  a 
pleasant  country,  by  placing  himself  in  some  commodious 
station,  that  commandsthe  whole  region,  than  by  travelling 
through  it.  'Tis  no  pains  to  look  upon  what  offers  itself 
to  my  eye.  Where  there  is  a  continued  series  of  conse- 
quences, that  lie  naturally  connected,  the  soul  pleasingly 
observes  this  continuity ;  but  views  the  whole  frame,  the 
whole  length  of  the  line,  at  once,  (so  far  as  its  limited  ca- 
pacity can  extend,)  and  needs  not  discuss  every  particle, 
severally,  in  this  series  of  truths,  and  proceed  gradatim, 
from  the  knowledge  of  one  truth  to  another ;  in  which  case 
only  one,  at  once  would  be  present  to  its  vie■w^  It  sees 
things  that  are  connected,  not  because  they  are  so:  A&  a 
mail,  conrcnienlly  placed  in  sovic  eminent  station,  may  pos- 
sibly sec,  at  one  vicu-',  all  the  successive  parts  of  a  gliding 
stjxam  .-(i  but  he  that  sits  by  the  water's  side,  not  changing 
Ms  place,  sees  the  same  pai'ts,  only  because  they  succeed ;  and 
these  that  pass,  make  way  for  them  that  follow ,  to  come  under 
his  eye :  so  doth  a  learned  man  describe  the  unsucccssive 
knowledge  of  God;  of  which  the  glorified  soul's  way  of 
knowing,  is  an  imitation ;  as  the  very  words  seeing  and 
beholding  (which  it  is  so  frequently  set  forth  by  in  Scrip- 
ture) do  naturally  import.  Yet  that,  as  to  them,  all  ratio- 
cination shall  be  excluded  that  state,  I  see  no  reason  to 
admit;  though  with  God  it  can  have  no  place.  And,  as 
he  is  reckoned  to  live  a  pleasanter  life,  that  spends  upon  a 
plentiful  estate,  than  he  that  gets  his  bread  by  the  sweat 
of  his  brows;  so  thi-s  more  easy  way  of  knowing,  must 
needs  be  reckoned  more  pleasing.  This  knowledge  i.s  as 
Jacob's  venison,  not  hunted  for  but  brought  to  hand.  The 
race  is  not  here  to  the  swift.  The  unlearned  idiot  knows 
as  much  as  the  profoundest  Rabbi ;  (at  least  with  as  much 
satisfaction  ;)">  and  all  arms  are  of  an  equal  size ;  or  are 
content  with  their  own  measure. 

2.  'Tis  more  certain.  For  what  do  we  use  to  reckon  so 
certain  as  what  we  see  with  our  eyes'?  Better  (even  in  this 
respect)  is  the  sight  of  the  eyes,  than  the  wandering  of  the 
desire.  While  here  the  mind  is  carried,  with  most  earnest 
desire,  to  pursue  knowledge,  it  very  often  mistakes  its  way, 
and  miserably  wanders.  In  our  most  wary  ratiocinations, 
we  many  times  shoot  at  rovers ;  but  when  we  know  by 
this  vision,  our  mark  is  immediately  presented  to  our  eye. 
We  are  in  no  danger  to  be  imposed  upon  by  delusive  ap- 
pearances of  things.  We  look  through  no  fallacious  mo- 
diums,  are  held  in  no  suspense ;  puzzled  with  no  doubts, 
whether  such  consequences  will  hold,  such  conclusions  be 
rightly  inferred ;  and  so  are  not  retarded  from  giving  a 
present  unwavering  assent.  Here  are  no  perplexing  in- 
tricacies, no  dubious  hallucinations,  or  uncertain  guesses. 
We  see  things,  as  they  are,  by  a  simple  and  undeceiving 
light,  with  both  subjective  and  objective  certainty,  being 
secure  both  from  doubt  and  error. 

2.  Faith.  How  magnificent  things  doth  Scripture  speak 
of  this  grace !  which  the  experience  also  of  such  as  have 
been  wont  to  live  by  it  {i.  e.  to  make  it  the  governing  prin- 
ciple of  their  lives)  doth  abundantly  confirm.     Hovv  clear 

c  Niinniilli  tapcUo  investisniKias  veritatis,  cuililtet  opinioni  potiii.'s  ignavi 
Bucciimbiiiiti  (inam  in  e.xploranda  veritate,  pertinaci  diligentfa  perseverare 
volunt.     Min.  Folix.  Oct.  9. 

d  Atoue  ut  lioinini  .fedenti  ad  ri(i«m  fluminis.  sola  aqua  presens  est  qufe 
ei  hoc  tennwris  puiictnio  otiyenatiir ;  eidcni  vero  tiomini,  tntnm  flumen 
presens  eswt,  ui  supra  sumniatn  aeris  regionem  crectiis,  iiiio  aspnctii  fontini 


are  its  apprehensions !  f  'tis  the  evidence  of  things  not  .seen : 
how  sweet  its  enjoyments !&  whom  not  seeing  ye  love; 
and  though  now  ye  see  him  not,  yet  believing,  ye  rejoice, 
with  joy  unspeakable,  and  full  of  glory.  Even  the  heathen 
theology  hath  magnified  it  above  knowledge.  "What 
is  it  (saith  one)  that  unites  us  with  the  self-goodne.ss,  and 
so  joins  us  ihet  eto,  that  it  quiets  or  gives  rest  to  all  our 
action  and  motion  1  I  will  express  it  in  one  word ;  'lis 
(ail  h  itself,  which  unspeakably,  and  after  a  hidden  manner, 
doth  unite  and  conjoin  happy  souls  with  the  self-good. 
For  (saith  he)  it  concerns  us  not,  either  in  the  way  of  sci- 
ence,!■  or  tcith  any  imperfection,  to  inqv.ire  after  the  good  ; 
but  to  behold  ourselves  in  the  Divine  light,  and  so  shutting 
our  eyes,  to  be  placed  in  the  un^;nov:n  and  secret  unity  of 
being's."  And  a  later  writer  gives  us  this,  as  a  conclusion 
from  that  former  author,  That  as  faith,  which  is  credulity,i 
is  below  science ;  so  that  faith,  which  is  truly  so  called,  is, 
super-subsianlially,  above  science  and  intelligence,  imme- 
diately uniting  us  to  God.  But  'tis  evident,  intuitive 
knowledge  far  exceeds  even  faith  also. 

1.  'Tis  more  distinct  and  clear.  Faith  is  taking  a  thing 
upon  jeport ;ii  Who  hath  believed  our  report  1  And  they 
are  more  general,  languid  apprehensions  we  have  of  thing.-s 
this  way.  Faith  enters  at  the  ear;'  it  comes  by  hearing. 
And  if  we  compare  the  perceptions  of  these  two  external 
senses,  that  of  hearing,  and  sight ;  the  latter  is  unspeaka- 
bly more  clear,  and  satisfying.  He  that  hath  knowledge 
of  a  Ibreign  country,  only  by  report  of  another,  liath  very 
indistinct  apprehensions  of  if,  in  comparison  of  him  who 
hath  travelled  it  himself  While  the  queen  of  Sheba  only 
heard  of  Solomon's  glory,  she  could  not  .satisfy  herself 
without  an  avri'ipm,  the  sight  of  her  own  eye;  and,  when 
she  saw  it,  she  saith,  the  one  half  was  not  told  her  of  what 
she  now  beheld.  The  ear  more  slowly  and  gradually  re- 
ceives, and  the  tongue  more  defectively  expresses  to  an- 
other, an  account  of  things;  than  one's  ocular  in.spection 
would  take  it  in.  But,  as  to  the  excellency  of  this  intuitive 
knowledge  above  faith ;  the  comparison  "lies  not  between 
knowing  by  the  ministry  of  a  more  noble  sense,  and  a  less 
noble ;  but  knowing  by  dependence  on  a  less  noble,  and 
wiinout  dependence  upon  any  at  all.  When  God  hath  been 
pleased  to  afford  discoveries,  in  that  way  of  vision,  to  men  in 
the  body,  (his  prophets,  &c.)  he  hath  usually  bound  up  their 
senses,  by  sleep  or  trances;  sense  hath  had  no  p>art  or  lot 
in  this  matter;  unto  believing  it  must  necessarily  concur. 

2.  More  effective.  What  we  see,  even  with  our  exter- 
nal eye,  much  more  powerfully  moves  our  heart,  than  what 
we  only  give  credit  to  upon  hearsay.  The  queen  of  Sheba 
much  admired,  no  doubt,  Solomon's  famed  splendour  and 
magnificence,  while  she  only  heard  of  it ;  but  when  she 
saw' it,  it  put  her  into  an  ecstasy;  it  ravished  away  her 
soul ;  she  had  no  more  spirit,  &c.  What  would  the  sight 
of  the  Divine  glory  do,  if  God  did  not  strengthen  with  all 
might;  were  there" not  as  well  glorious  power  to  support, 
as  powerful  glory  to  transform !  Job  had  heard  of  God 
by  the  hearing  of  the  ear,  but  when  once  his  eye  saw  him, 
(whether  that  were  by  the  appearance  of  any  sensible  glory; 
which  is  probable  enough,  for  'tis  said,  the  Lord  answered 
him  out  of  the  whirlwind  ;  or  whether  by  a  more  immedi- 
ate revelation,  'lis  less  material,)  what  work  did  it  make  in 
his  soul !  The  devils  believe,  and  tremble;  so  impressive 
are  the  pre-apprehensions  of  judgment  to  come,  and  the 
consequents  thereof,  with  them;  yet  their  present  torment, 
thence,  is  no  torment,  in  comparison  (art  thou  come  to 
torment  us  before  the  time])  of  what  they  expect.  Let 
wicked  men  consider  this  ;  (they  will  have  their  intuition 
in  hell  too;)  were yourbelief  and  terrortheicupon,  with  re- 
ference to  the  eternal  judgment,  and  the  impendent  wrath 
of  God,  equal  to  what  the  devils  themselves  have,  upon 
the  same  accoimt;  actual  sensation  will  make  you  more 
exceed  yourselves  in  point  of  misery,  than  the  devils  do 
now  exceed  you.  There  is,  no  doubt,  a  proportionable 
difference  between  the  impressions  of  present  faith,  and 
future  vision,  with  holy  souls.  Now,  not  seeing,  yet  be- 
lievi/ig,  they  rejoice,  with  joy  unspeakable.     Their  present 

ct  ostium  fluniinis  posset  aspicere :  Ita  oculo  Di'i.  *c.  P.  INloliiieus  de 
cogiiit.  r>ii. 

e  Hprticrl.  f  EXfj-ynj.     Heb.  xi    1.  g  1  Pet   i.  S. 

hoc  )  r.'CdfWf,  ovAe  aT£>(OS,  aXX'iniOJi'TUf.tavrot'S  rioi  OcKot  vton,  &c. 
Prnrliio   in  Plat   Tiieol. 

i  I'iciw  Mirand.  k  Isa.  liii.  1.  1  Rom.  .x.  16. 


310 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


Ciup.  vr. 


joy  cannot  be  spoken ;  their  future  then  cannot  be  thought ! 
Experience  daily  tells  us,  how  greatly  sensible,  present 
objects  have  the  advantage  upon  us,  beyond  those  that  are 
spiritual  and  distant,  though  infinitely  more  excellent  and 
important.  When  the  tables  are  turned,  the  now  sensible 
things  disappear;  a  new  scene  of  things,  invisible  and 
eternal,  is  immediately  presented  to  our  view  ;  when  the 
excellency  of  the  objects,  the  disposedness  of  the  subjects, 
the  nature  of  the  act,  shall  all  multiply  the  advantages,  on 
this  part.  How  affective  will  this  vision  be,  beyond  what 
we  have  ever  found  the  faint  apprehensions  of  our  so  much 
disadvantaged  faith  to  amount  to !  A  kind  message  from 
an  indulgent  father,  to  his  far-distant  son,  informing  of  his 
welfare,  and  yet  continuing  love,  will  much  affect;  but 
the  sight  of  his  father's  face,  will  even  transport,  and  over- 
come him  with  joy. 

But  further  consider  this  intuition  a  little  more  particu- 
larly and  absolutely  in  itself  So,  you  may  take  this 
somewhat  distincter  account  of  it,  in  some  few  particulars, 
corresponding  to  those,  by  which  the  object  (the  glory  to 
be  beheld)  was  lately  characterized. — 1.  It  will  be  a  vi- 
gorous, cfficacioits  intuition  ;  as  that  which  it  beholds  is  the 
most. excellent ;  even  the  Divine  glory.  Such  an  object 
cannot  be  beheld,  but  with  an  eye  full  of  lively  vigour;  a 
sparkling,  a  radiant  eye :  a  weak  eye  would  be  struck 
blind,  would  fail,  and  be  closed  up  at  the  first  glance. 
We  must  suppose,  then,  this  vision  to  be  accompanied  with 
the  highest  vitality,  the  strongest  energy,  a  mighty  plenitude 
of  spirit  and  power,  no  less  than  the  Divine :  nothing  but 
the  Divine  power  t-an  sufficiently  fortify  the  soul  to  behold 
Divine  glory.  When  the  apostle  speaks  only  of  his  desire 
of  glory,  He  that  hath  wrought  us  to  this  self-same  thing 
(saith  he)  is  God,  he  that  hath  moulded  us,  suitably  framed 
us  (as  the  word  signifieth)  for  this  thing,  is  God :  'tis  the 
work  of  a  Deity  to  make  a  soul  desire  glory :  certainly, 
then,  'tis  his  work  to  give  the  power  of  beholding  it.  And 
by  how  much  the  more  of  power,  so  much  the  more  of 
pleasure  in  this  vision.  Weak  sight  would  afford  but  lan- 
guid joy  :  but  when  the  whole  soul,  animated  with  divine 
power  and  life,  shall  seat  itself  in  the  eye ;  when  it  shall 
be,  as  it  were,  all  eye,  (as  one  said  of  God,  whom  now  it 
perfectly  imitates,)  and  be  wholly  intent  upon  vision  ;  ap- 
ply itself  thereto  with  all  its  might,  as  its  only  business;'" 
what  satisfying  joys  doth  it  now  taste  !  renewed  by  every 
repeated  view!  how  doth  it  now,  as  it  were,  prey  upon 
glory ;  as  the  eye  of  the  eagle  upon  the  beams  of  the  sun  ! 
We  meet  with  the  expression  of  aurcs  bibula ;  here  will  be 
oculi  hibuli,  f.hirsty  eyes;  a  soul  ready  to  drink  in  glory  at 
the  eye.  If  vision  be  by  intromission,  what  attractiv^e  eyes 
are  here,  drawing  in  glory,  feeding  upon  glory !  If  by  ex- 
tramission,  what  piercing,  darting  eyes,  sending  forth  the 
soul  at  every  look  to  embrace  the  glorious  object! 

There  is  a  great  power  that  now  attends  realizing  though  ts 
of  God :  whether  it  appear  in  the  consequent  working  of 
the  soul  directly  towards  God ;  or  by  way  of  reflection 
upon  itself.  If  directly  towards  God  ;  how  mightily  is  he 
admired  !  "  Who  is  a  God  like  unto  thee  1"  If  by  reflec- 
tion upon  our  own  sin,  and  vileness;  how  deeply  doth  it 
humble ! — "  Now  mine  eye  seeth  thee,  therefore  I  abhor 
myself — Wo  is  me,  I  am  undone, — mine  eyes  have  seen 
the  Lord  of  glory."  If  by  way  of  reflection,  upon  our  in- 
terest in  him,  or  relation  to  him ;  how  mightily  doth  it 
support  and  comfort !»  "  I  will  look  to  the  Lord, — my 
God  will  hear  me."  How  full  of  rich  sense  is  that  scrip- 
ture," They  looked  to  him  and  were  lightened  !  One  look 
clothed  them  with  light,  cast  a  sflory  upon  their  souls,  filled 
them  with  life  and  joy ;  'twas  but  a  thought,  the  cast  of  an 
eye,  and  they  were  as  full  as  hearts  could  hold.  O  the 
power  then  of  these  heavenly  visions,  when  we  dwell  in 
the  views  of  that  transforming  glory ! — 2.  This  will  be  a 
comprehensive  intuition ;  as  its  object  is  entire  glory.  I 
mean  comparatively,  not  absolutely  comprehensive.  More 
of  the  Divine  glory  will  be  comprehended,  unspeakably, 
than  before.  'Tis  called,  we  know,  by  the  schoolmen,  the 
knowledge  of  comprehensors,  in  contradiction  to  that  of 
viators.  W^e  shall  better  be  able  to  discern  the  Divine  ex- 
cellencies together;  have   much  more  adequate  concep- 

m  S.  Hipronyni. 
n  Mic.  vii.  7. 
o  P»al.  xx.viv.  .">. 


tions ;  a  fuller,  and  more  complete  notion  of  God :  we  shall 
see  him  as  he  is.  'Tis  too  much  observable,  how  in  our 
present  state,  we  are  prejudiced  by  our  partial  conceptions 
of  him;  and  what  an  inequalit}'  they  cause  in  the  temper 
of  our  spirits.  For  wicked  men,  the  very  notion  they  have 
of  God  proves  fatal  to  their  souls,  or  is  of  a  most  destruc- 
tive tendency ;  because  they  comprehend  not  together  what 
God  hath  revealed  of  himself  Most  usually,  they  confine 
those  few  thoughts  of  God  they  have,  only  to  his  mercy; 
and  that  exclusively,  as  to  his  holiness  and  justice;  hence 
their  vain  and  mad  presumption.  The  notion  of  an  unholy 
(or  a  not-holy,  and  not-just)  God,  what  wickedness  would 
it  not  induce !  "  Thou  thoughtest  I  was  altogether  such  a 
one  as  thyself:"  a  God  after  their  own  hearts;  then  the 
reins  are  let  loose.  More  rarely,  when  the  conscience  of 
guilt  hath  arrested  the  self-condemned  wretch,  God  is 
thought  of  under  no  other  notion,  than  of  an  irreconcilable 
enemy  and  avenger;  as  one  thirsting  after  the  blood  of 
souls,  and  that  will  admit  of  no  atonement.  So  without 
all  pretence,  and  so  flatly  contrary  to  all  his  discoveries  of 
himself,  do  men  dare  to  affix  to  him  black  and  horrid  cha- 
racters, forged  only  out  of  the  radicated  and  inveterate 
hatred  of  their  ow-n  hearts  against  him,  (that  never  take 
up  good  thoughts  of  any  one,)  only  because  they  have  no 
mind  to  acquaint  themselves  with  him ;  and  that  they  may 
have  some  colour  for  their  affected  distance ;  and  so,  per- 
haps, never  return ;  but  perish  under  a  horrid  wilful  despair. 
And  even  the  people  of  God  themselves  are  too  apt  some- 
times, so  wholly  to  fix  their  eye  upon  love  and  grace,  that 
they  gro-w  into  an  unbecoming,  uncreaturely  familiarity ; 
while  the  thoughts  of  infinite  majesty,  adorable  greatness 
and  glory,  are  asleep :  sometimes,  possibly,  ihey  apprehend 
vindictive  justice,  the  indignation  and  jealousy  of  God 
against  sin,  (precluding  meanwhile  the  consideration  of  his 
indulgent  compassions  towards  truly  humble  and  penitent 
souls,)  to  that  degree  of  affrightment  and  dread,  that  they 
grow  into  an  unchildlike  strangeness  towards  him,  and 
take  little  pleasure  in  drawing  nigh  to  him.  But  when, 
nmo,  our  eye  shall  take  in  the  discovery  of  Divine  glory 
equally,  how  sweet  and  satisfying  a  pleasure  will  arise 
from  that  grateful  mixture  of  reverent  love,  humble  joy, 
modest  confidence,  meek  courage,  a  prostrate  magnanimity, 
a  triumphant  veneration;  a  soul  shrinking  before  the  Di- 
vine glory  into  nothing,  yet  not  contenting  itself  W'ith  any 
less  enjoyment,  than  of  him,  who  is  all  in  all ! 

There  is  nothing  here  in  this  complexion,  or  temper  of 
soul,  but  hath  its  warrant,  in  the  various  8ispect  of  the  face 
of  God  comprehensively  beheld ;  nothing  but  what  is  (even 
by  its  suitableness)  highly  grateful  and  pleasing. — 3.  'Twill 
be  fixed,  steady  intuition,  as  its  object  is  permanent  glory. 
The  vision  of  God  can  neither  infer,  nor  admit  weariness. 
The  e)'e  cannot  divert ;  its  act  is  eternally  delectable,  and 
affords  an  unvariable,  undecaying  pleasure.  Sensual  de- 
lights soon  end  in  loathing;  quickly  bring  a  glutting  sur- 
feit ;  and  degenerate  into  torm^ents,?  when  they  are  con- 
tinued and  unintermittent.  A  philosopher,  i  in  an  epistle 
which  he  writes  to  a  friend,  from  the  court  of  Dionysius, 
where  he  was  forcibly  detained,  thus  bemoans  himself, 
"  We  are  unhappy,  O  Anlisthenes,  beyond  measure!  and 
how  can  we  but  be  unha,ppy,  that  are  hirdened  by  the  tyrant 
every  day  with  suviptuons  feasts,  plentifid  compotations, 
precious  ointments,  gorgeous  apparel  ?  and  I  knew  as  soon 
as  I  co.nie  into  this  island  amd  city,  hoxc  unilMppy  my  life 
would  be."  This  is  the  nature  and  common  condition  of 
even  the  most  pleasing  sensible  objects :  they  first  tempt, 
then  please  a  little,  then  disappoint,  and  lastly  vex.  The 
eye  that  beholds  them,  blasts  them  quickly,  rifles  and  de- 
flowers their  glory  ;  and  views  them  with  no  more  delight 
at  first,  than  disdain  afterwards.  Creature-enjoyments 
have  a  bottom,  are  soon  drained  and  drawn  dry:  hence 
there  must  be  frequent  diversions ;  other  pleasures  must 
be  sought  out ;  and  are  chosen,  not  because  they  are  better, 
but  because  they  are  new. 

This  demonstrates  the  emptiness  and  vanity  of  the 
creature.  Affection  of  variety  only  proceeds  from  sense  of 
want;  and  is  a  confession,  upon  trial,  that  there  is  not  in 
suet  an  enjoyment  what  was  expected.     Proportionably, 

p  Proba  istaa.  qiiae  voluptales  vocantiir,  ubi  modum  transcomlorint,  pa'nas 

es.ae.     Sen.  Ep.  83.  „      .  « 

q  K'UoJ(ii/<  .vjvuef,  w  Avriadcve;,  ov  jiSTpius,  &c.  3ocraticorum.  Epist.  9. 


ClTAP.    VII. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  HIGHTEOUS. 


211 


in  the  state  of  glory,  a  constant  indeficient  fulness,  renders 
the  blessed  soul  undesirous  of  any  change.  There  is  no 
need  of  varieties,  or  diversions :  what  did  once  please,  can 
never  cease  to  do  so.  This  glory  cannot  fade,  or  lose  any 
thing  of  its  attractive  power.  The  faculty  cannot  languish, 
or  lose  the  disposition,  by  which  it  is  contempered  and 
made  proportionable  thereto.  Hence  no  weariness  can  en- 
sue. What !  a  soul  in  which  the  love  of  God  is  perfected, 
grow  weary  of  beholding  him  !  The  sun  will  sooner  grow 
weary  of  shining;  the  touched  needle  of  turning  itself  to 
its  wonted  point ;  every  ihing  will  sooner  grow  weary  of 
its  centre  ;  and  the  most  fundamental  laws  of  nature  be 
sooner  antiquated  and  made  void  for  ever.  The  eye  of  the 
fool,  Solomon  tells  as,"-  is  in  the  ends  of  the  earth.  His, 
only,  is  a  rolling  wandering  eye,  that  knows  not  where  to 
fix.  Wisdom  guides,  and  fixes  the  eye  of  the  holy  soul ; 
determines  it  unto  God  only  :«  I  will  bless  the  Lord,  who 
hath  given  me  counsel,  my  reins  also  instruct  me, — I  have 
set  the  Lord  always  before  me.  Surely  heaven  will  not 
render  it  less  capable  of  dijudication;  of  passing  a  right 
judgment  of  the  excellency  and  worth  of  things.  And  here, 
a  rational  judgment  will  find  no  want;  and  an  irrational 
will  find  no  place.  Therefore,  as  permanent  glory  will 
certainly  infer  a  perpetual  vision  ;  perpetuated  vision  will 
as  certainly  perpetuate  the  soul's  satisfaction  and  blessed- 
ness.— 4.  'Twill  be  a  possessive  intuition  :  as  'tis  an  appro- 
priale  glory  which  it  pitches  upon.  'Twill  be  the  language 
of  ever)^  look,  "  This  glory  is  mine."  The  soul  looks  not 
upon  it  shyly,  as  if  it  had  nothing  to  do  with  it ;  or  with 
slight  and  careless  glances  :  but  the  very  posture  of  its  eye 
speaks  its  interest,  and  proclaims  the  pretensions  it  hath 
to  this  glory.  With  how  different  an  aspect  doth  a  stran- 
ger passing  by,  and  the  owner,  look  upon  the  same  house, 
the  same  lands  !  A  man's  e3'e  lays  his  claim  for  him  and 
avows  his  right.  A  grateful  object  that  one  can  say  is  his 
own,  he  arrests  it  with  his  eye;  so  do  saints  with  appropri- 
ative  looks  behold  their  God,  and  the  Divine  glory.  Even 
with  such  an  eye  as  he  was  wont  to  behold  them;'  To 
this  man  will  I  look,  &c.  that  is,  as  the  place  of  my  rest, 
mentioned  before  ;  he  designs  him  with  his  eye.  Which 
is  the  import  of  that  expression,"  The  Lord  knows  who 
are  his;  his  eye  marks  them  out ;  ot\tis  them  as  his  own  : 
as  concerning  others,  whom  he  disowns,  the  phrase  is,  I 
know  you  not.  And  how  vastly  different  is  such  an  intu- 
ition, from  that,  when  I  look  upon  a  thing  with  a  himgry, 
lingering  eye,  which  I  must  never  enjoy,  or  never  expect 
to  be  the  better  for  !  This  vision  is  fruitive,  imites  the 
soul  with  the  blessed  object :  which  kind  of  sight  is  meant, 
when  actual  blessedness  is  so  oflen  expressed  by  seeing 
God.  We  see  then  what  vision,  the  sight  of  God's  face, 
contributes  to  the  satisfaction  of  blessed  souls. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


Wherein  assimilation  (the  likeness  or  glory  of  God  impressed)  contributes  imto 
satisfaction  :  where  is  particularly  propounded  to  be  showTi,  Wliat  pleasure 
it  involves,  what  it  disposes  to  :  What  it  involves  in  the  «.?«(;  of  it,  what  in 
the  cognosci.  1  The  pleasure  of  being  like  God  discovered.  1.  Showing 
concerning  the  image  of  God  (generally  considered)  that  it  is  the  soul's  health 
and  soundness  restored ;  that  it  is  a  vital,  an  intimate,  a  connatiu'al,  a  per- 
fect image. 

2.  OoR  next  business  is  to  discover,  what  assimilation, 
or  the  impressed  likeness  of  God,  may  further  add  to  this 
satisfied  state ;  or,  what  satisfying  pleasure  the  blessed 
soul  finds  in  this,  that  it  is  like  God.  And  here  we  are 
distinctly  to  inquire  into — the  pleasure  which  such  an  as- 
similation to  God  involves  in  itself,  and — that  which  it 
tends  and  disposes  to. 

I.  The  pleasure  it  involves  in  itself;  or,  which  is  taken 
in  it  abstractedly  considered ;  which  we  may  more  par- 
ticularly unfold  by  showing — the  pleasure  involved,  1.  in 
being  like  God :  and — 2.  in  knowing  or  reflecting  upon 
the  same  :  the  esse  and  the  cognosci  of  this  assimilation. 

1.  The  pleasure  in  being  like  God  ;  which  may  be  dis- 

r  Prov.  xvii.  24.  s  Psal.  xvi,  7,  8. 

t  Isa.  Ixvi.  1,9.  ,       H  2  Tim.  ii   19. 

a  TiiJt'tirepov  xpvxri  amnaro';,  to  ie  rifiibiTcpov  ayaQov  fxcti^ov,  to  fie  T(ot 
liCiZovt,  ayaOioi  euavTioi',  ficiZnv  KOKOvayadov  Se  jxet^ovvi  ctn  xpvxm  vyaas 
ooijiaTOi,  jiei^nv  ovv  kukov  vooji  ipv\r}s,  voirov  acofiaTOi,  I'Offos  \pv\rii  fiox- 
dnpia,  &c.    Max.  Tyr.  dissert.  41. 


covered  both  by  a  general  consideration  hereof,  and  by  in- 
stancing in  some  particulars,  wherein  blessed  souls  shall 
be  like  him. 

L  It  is  obvious  to  suppose  an  inexpressible  pleasure  in 
the  very  feeling,  the  inward  sensation,  the  holy  soul  will 
have  of  that  happy  frame  in  general,  whereinlo  it  is  now 
brought ;  that  joyful  harmony,  that  entire  rectitude,  it  finds 
within  itself.  You  may  as  soon  separate  light  from  a  sun- 
beam, as  plea.sure  from  such  a  state.  This  likeness  or 
conformity  to  God  is  an  cvKpaaio,  a  perfect  temperament; 
an  athletic  healthine.ss ;  a  strong  sound  consiitution  of 
soul.  Do  but  imagine,  what  it  is  to  a  man's  body,  after  a 
wasting  sickness,  to  find  himself  well.  Frame  a  notion  of 
the  pleasure  of  health  and  .soundness,  when  both  all  the 
parts  and  members  of  the  body  are  in  their  proper  places 
and  proportions,  and  a  lively,  active  vigour,  a  sprightly 
strength,  possesses  every  part,  and  actuates  the  whole ;  how 
plea.sant  is  this  temper !  If  we  were  all  body,  there  could 
be  no  greater  felicity  than  this.  But  by  how  much  the 
more  noble  an)' creature  is,  so  is  it  capable  of  more  exqui- 
site pains,  or  pleasures.  ''Sin  is  the  sickness  and  disease 
of  the  soul ;  enfeebles  all  its  powers,  exhausts  its  vigour, 
wastes  its  strength.  You  know  the  restless  tossings,  the 
weary  roslings  to  and  fro,  of  a  diseased  languishing  body  ; 
such  is  the  case  of  a  sinful  soul.  Let  it  but  seriously  be- 
think itself,  and  then  speak  its  own  sen.se;  (but  here  is  the 
malignity  of  the  disease,  it  cannot  be  serious,  it  always 
raves ;)  What  will  it  bel  "01  can  take  no  rest !"  The 
way  of  wickedness  is  called  ba  way  of  pain  :  sinners 
would  find  it  so,  if  the  violence  of  the  disease  had  not  be- 
reft them  of  sense:  Nothing  savours  with  me;  I  can  take 
comfort  in  nothing.  The  wicked  are  as  a  troubled  sea  (as 
their  name  imports")  that  cannot  rest,  whose  waters,  &.c. 
The  image  of  God,  renewed  in  holiness  and  righteousness, 
is  health  restored,  after  such  a  consuming  sickness;  which 
■u'hen  we  awake,  when  all  the  drowsiness  that  attends  our 
disease  is  shaken  ofl^,  we  find  to  be  perfect.  The  fear  of  the 
Lord,  (an  ordinary  paraphrase  of  holiness  or  piet\',)  is  said 
to  be  health  to  the  navel  and  marrow  to  the  bones.  Our  Lord 
Jesus  invites'^  wearied  sinners  to  come  to  him,  to  take  his 
yoke  on  them,  to  learn  of  him,  that  is,  to  imitate  him,  to  be 
like  him  ;  and  promises  the}'  shall  find  rest  to  their  souls. 
How  often  do  we  find  grace  and  peace  in  conjunction  in 
the  apostles'  sahitations  and  benedictions  !  We  are  told 
that  the  ways  of  Divine  wisdom  {i.  e.  which  it  prescribeth) 
are  all<J  pleasantness  and  peace.  That  in  keeping  the 
commandments  of  God  there  is  great  reward.  That  they 
are  not  grievous,  i.  e.  (forthereseemstobea7?ic/o.';!5  in  the 
expression,)  are  joyous,  pleasant.  And  what  are  his  com- 
mandments, but  those  expresses  of  himself,  wherein  we  are 
to  be  like  him,  and  conform  to  his  will  1"=  The  kingdom  of 
God  (that  holy  order  which  he  settles  in  the  spirits  of  men, 
his  law  transcribed  and  impressed  upon  the  soul ;  which  is 
nothing  else  but  its  conformation  and  likeness  to  himself:) 
is  righteousness,  and  then  peace.  The  ippovniia  YltivitaTOij 
that  notion,  and  judsmcnt,  and  saroitr  of  things,  that  ex- 
cellent temper  of  mind  and  heart,  (for  that  is  the  extent  of 
the  expression,)  whereof  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God  is  both 
the -author  and  pattern,  is  life  and  peace,  involves  ihcm  in 
itself  When  one  thing  is  thus,  in  casu  recto,  predicated 
of  another,  it  speaks  their  most  intimate  connexii>n,  as 
Rom.  xiv.  17.  above  :  so  1  John  v.  3.  This  is  love  iha', 
&c.  So  here,  such  a  mind  is  life  and  peace  (though  the 
copula  be  not  in  the  original,  it  is  fitly  supplied  in  the 
translation.)  You  cannot  separate  {q.  d.)  life  and  peace 
from  such  a  mind:  it  hath  no  principle  of  death  or  trouble 
in  it.  Let  such  as  know  any  thing  of  this  blessed  temper 
and  complexion  of  soul,  compare  this  scripture  and  their 
own  experience  together  ;  when  at  any  time  they  find  their 
souls  under  the  blessed  empire  and  dominion  of  a  spiritual 
mind,  Avhen  spirituality  wholly  rules  and  denominates 
them.  Arenot  their  souls  the  very  region  of  life  and  peace  1 
both  these  in  conjunction,  life  and  peace  1  not  raging  life, 
not  stupid  peace ;  but  a  placid,  peaceful  life,  a  vital,  vigor- 
ous rest  and  peace:  'tis  not  the  life  of  a  fury,  nor  peace  of 

b  2:f  J7  Tit  Psal.  cxxxix.  84.  V&'"'  Isa.  Uii.  20.  Hinc  ilbid  rt  tspdium  et  di.spli- 
ceutia  sui,  et  nusqiiam  residentis  aiiimi  volutatio,  &c.  Sen.  ile  Tranqu. 
aninii. 

c  Mat,  xi.  2S. 

d  Prov.  iii  1.'?.  P.<al  xix.  1  John  v.  3. 

e  Horn.  .\iv    17.  f  Rom.  viii.  S. 


212 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


Chap.  VII. 


a  stone:  life  that  hath  peace  in  it,  and  peace  that  hath  life 
in  it.  Now  can  the  soul  say,  "  I  feel  myself  well ;  all  is 
now  well  with  me."s  Nothing  afllicts  the  spiritual  mind 
so  far,  and  while  'lis  such;  'tis  wrapt  up  and  clothed  in  its 
own  innocency  and  purity,  and  hereby  become  invulner- 
able, not  liable  to  hurtful  impressions.  Holiness  (under 
the  name  of  light,  for  that  is  by  the  context  the  evident 
meaning  of  the  word  there)  is  by  the  apostle  h  spoken  of  as 
the  Christian's  armour.  Put  on,  saiih  he,  the  armour  of 
light,  in  opposition  to  the  works  of  darkness,  which  he  had 
mentioned  immediately  before.  Strange  armour !  that  a 
man  may  see  through.  A  good  man's  armour  is,  that  i  he 
needs  none:  his  armour  is  an  open  breast;  that  he  can 
pxpose  himself,  is  fearless  of  any  harm.  Who  is  he  that 
shall  harm  you  if  )'e  be  followers  of  that  which  is  good  1 
It  should  be"  read  imitators,  so  the  word  signifies ;  and  so 
whereas  following  is  either  of  a  pattern  or  an  end,  the  for- 
mer must  be  meant  here,  by  the  natural  importance  of  that 
word.  And  hence,  by  k  "  that  which  is  good,"  is  not  to  be 
understood  created  goodness;  for  it  is  not  enough  to  imi- 
tate that  goodness,  for  so  we  must  be  good  ;  but  the  words 
are  capable  of  being  read,  him  that  is  good,  or  (which  is 
all  one)  the  good.i  And  so  'tis  the  increate  good,  the  bless- 
ed God  himself,  formally  considered  under  the  notion  of 
good.  Nothing  can  harm  you  if  you  be  like  God,  that's 
the  plain  sense  of  this  scripture.  Likeness  to  God  is  ar- 
mour of  proof ;  i.  e.  an  imitation  of  him,  viz.  in  his  moral 
goodness,  which  holiness  (as  a  general  name  of  it)  com- 
prehends. A  person  truly  like  God  is  secure  from  any 
external  violence,  so  far  as  that  it  shall  never  be  able  to 
invade  his  spirit.  He  is  in  spirit  far  raised  above  the  tem- 
pestuous stormy  region,  and  converses  where  winds  and 
clouds  have  no  place. 

Nor  can,  so  far  as  this  temper  of  soul  prevails,  any  evil 
grow  upon  such  a  mind  within  itself.  It  is  life  and  peace, 
it  is  light  and  purity,  for  'tis  the  image,  the  similitude  of 
God.™  God  is  light,  and  with  him  is  no  darkness  at  all. 
Holy  souls  were  darkness,  but  they  are  light  in  the  Lord. 
He  the  Father  of  light,"  they  the  children  of  light.  They 
were  darkness:  not  in  the  dark;  but  in  the  abstract, 
"  darkness;"  as  if  that  were  their  whole  nature,  and  they 
nothing  else  but  an  impure  mass  of  conglobated  darkness." 
So,  Ye  are  light :  as  if  they  were  that  and  nothing  else  ;  no- 
thing but  a  sphere  of  light.  Why  suppose  we  sucli  a  thing 
as  an  entire  .sphere  of  nothing  ei.se  but  pure  light  1  What 
can  work  any  disturbance  here,  or  raise  a  storm  within  it : 
A  calm,  serene  thing,  perfectly  homogeneous,  void  of  con- 
trariety, or  any  self-repugnant  quality:  how  can  it  disquiet 
itselfl  We  cannot  yet  say,  that  thus  it  is  with  holy  souls 
in  their  present  state,  according  to  the  highest  literal  im- 
port of  these  words.  Ye  are  light :  but  thus  it  will  be  wlien 
they  awake;  when  they  are  satisfied  with  this  likeness. 
They  shall  then  be  like  God  fully,  and  throughout.  O  the 
joy  and  pleasure  of  a  soul  made  after  such  a  similitude  ! 
Now  glory  is  become  as  it  were  their  being,  they  are  glo- 
rified. Glory  is  revealed  into  them,  transfused  through- 
out them.  Every  thing  that  is  conceivable  under  the  no- 
tion of  an  excellency,  competent  to  created  natur.^,  is  now 
to  be  found  with  them ;  and  they  have  it  in-wrought  into 
their  very  beings.  So  that  in  a  true  sense  it  may  be  said, 
that  they  are  light;  they  not  only  have  such  excellencies, 
but  they  are  them:?  as  the  moralist  saith  of  the  wise  or 
virtuous  man,  that  he  not  so  properly  hath  all  thhigs,  as  is 
all  things.  'Tis  said  of  man,  in  respect  of  his  naturals,  he 
is  the  image  1  and  glory  of  God.  As  for  his  supernatural 
excellencies,  though  they  are  not  essential  to  man,  they 
are  more  expressive  of  God ;  and  are  now  become  so  in- 
separable from  the  nature  of  man  too,  in  this  his  glorified 
state,  that  he  can  as  soon  cease  to  be  intelligent  as  hol5^ 
The  image  of  God,  even  in  this  respect,  is  not  separable 
from  him,  nor  blessedness,  (surely,)  from  this  image.  As 
the  divine  excellencies,  being  in  their  infinite  fulness  in 
God,  are  his  own  blessedness,  so  is  the  likeness,  the  parti- 
cipation of  them  in  the  soul  th.at  now  bears  this  image  its 

glnviilni-rabilft  est  non  quod  non  fpiitur.  scJ  i|ii:)d  iion  lictliliir.  Sen.  de  con- 
Btantial  sat'ion'i?.  aive  qaod  in  ?Rpicnlein  non  cadit  injuria. 

h  Uom    xiil    1-2. 

i  In(o?iT  vjtie  scHlpris'iueiHirna.  fie,.    Hor.  M'/ii77rti.  Wav  ayaOov. 

1  \s  PlaN)  anil  his  followers  uaed  the  e.\prt.'Ssion,  rnyaOov,  fully  according  to 
the  si'n«.-nf  Matt,  xix.  \T. 

m  t  Joliii  i.  n  Ei>h.  v.  Jamea  i. 


blessedness.  Nothing  can  be  necessary  to  its  full  satisfac- 
tion which  it  hath  not  in  itself,  by  a  gracious  vouchsafe- 
ment  and  communication.  The  good  man,  (in  that  de- 
gree which  his  present  state  admits  of,)  Solomon  tells  us,' 
is  satisfied  from  himself:  he  doth  not  need  to  traverse  the 
world,  to  seek  his  happiness  abroad  ;  he  hath  the  matter 
of  satisfaction,  even  that  goodness  which  he  is  now  en- 
riched with,  in  his  own  breast  and  bosom  ;=  yet  he  hath  it 
all  by  participation  from  the  fountain-goodness.  But  that 
participated  goodness  is  so  intimately  one  with  him,  as 
sutficiently  warrants  and  makes  good  the  assertion,  he  is 
satisfied  from  himself:  viz.  from  himself,  not  primarily, 
or  independently  ;  but  by  derivation  from  him  who  is  all 
in  all,  and  more  intimate  to  us  than  we  ourselves.  And 
what  is  that  participated  goodness,  but  a  degree  of  the 
Divine  likeness  1  But  when  that  goodness  shall  be  fully 
participated,  when  this  image  and  imitation  of  the  Divine 
goodness  shall  be  complete  and  entire,  then  shall  we  know 
the  rich  exuberant  sense  of  those  words.  How  fully  will 
this  image  or  likeness  satisfy  then !  And  yet  more  dis- 
tinctly, we  may  apprehend  how  satisfying  this  likeness  or 
image  impressed  will  be,  if,  a  little  further  deferring  the 
view  of  the  particulars  of  this  likeness  which  we  have  de- 
signed to  instance  in,  we  consider  these  general  properties 
ofit. 

1.  'Tis  a  vital  image :  not  the  image  only  of  him  that 
lives,  the  living  God  ;  but  it  is  his  living  and  soul-quick- 
ening image.  'Tis  the  likeness  of  him,  in  that  very  res- 
pect; an  imitation  and  participation  of  the  life  of  God  ;  by 
which,  once  revived,  the  soul  lives  that  wa.s  dead  before. 
'Tis  not  a  dead  picture,  a  dumb  show,  an  unmoving  statue ; 
but  a  living,  speaking,  walking  image  ;  that  wherewith  the 
child  is  like  the  father  :  the  veiy  life  of  the  subject  where 
it  is  ;  and  by  which  it  lives  as  God,  speaks  and  acts  con- 
formably to  him.  An  image,  not  such  a  one  as  is  drawn 
with  a  pencil,  that  expresses  only  colour  and  figure ;  but 
such  a  one  as  is  seen  in  a  glass, '  that  represents  life  and 
motion,  as  v.'as  noted  from  a  worth}^  author  befcue.  'Tis 
even,  in  its  first  and  moi'e  important  draught,  an  analogi- 
cal participation  (as  we  must  understand  it)  of  the"  Divine 
nature;  before  which  first  tincture,  those  preludious 
touches  of  it  upon  the  spirit  of  man,  his  former  state  is 
spoken  of  as  ^  an  alienation  from  the  life  of  God  ;  as  having 
no  interest,  no  communion  therein.  The  y  putting  on  of 
the  new  man,  which  after  God  is  created  in  righteousness 
and  true  holiness,  is  presently  mentioned,  in  direct  oppo- 
sition to  that  dismal  state,  implying  that  to  be  a  participa- 
tion of  the  Divine  life:  and  certainly,  so  far  as  it  is  so, 'tis 
a  participation  of  the  Divine  blessedness  too. 

2.  'Tis  an  image  most  intimate,  therefore,  to  its  subject. 
Glory  it  is  ;  but  not  a  superficial  skin-deep  glory;  such  as 
shone  in  Moses's  face,  which  he  covered  with  a  vail.  'Tis 
thoroughly  transformative  ;  changes  the  soul  throughout; 
not  in  external  appearance,  but  in  its  very  nature.  All 
outward  embellishments  would  add  little  felicity  to  a  ptt- 
trid,  corrupt  soul.  That  would  be  but  painting  a  sepul- 
chre ;  this  adds  ornament  unto  life;  and  both,  especially 
to  the  inward  man.  'Tis  not  paint  in  the  face,  while  death 
is  at  the  heart;  but  'tis  the  radication  of  such  a  principle 
within  as  will  soon  form  and  attemper  the  man  univer- 
sally to  itself.  'Tis  glory,  blessedness,  participated,  brought 
home  and  lodged  in  a  man's  own  soul,  in  his  own  bosom; 
he  cannot  then  but  be  satisfied.  A  man  may  have  a  rich 
stock  of  outward  comforts,  and  while  he  hath  no  heart  to 
enjoy  them,  be  never  the  happier.  But  'tis  impossible, 
that  happiness  should  be  thus  lodged  in  his  soul,  made  so 
intimate,  and  one  with  him ;  and  yet,  that  he  should  not 
be  satisfied,  not  be  happy. 

3.  An  image  connatural  to  the  spirit  of  man.  Not  a 
thing  alien,  and  foreign  to  his  nature,  put  into  him  pur- 
posely, as  it  were,  to  torment  and  vex  him ;  but  an  ancient 
well-known  inhabitant,  that  had  place  in  him  from  the 
beginning.  Sin  is  the  injurious  intruder ;  which  there- 
fore  puts   the  soul   into   a  commotion,  and  permits  it 

o  Xdaipa  t/."XJjf  aiinfM/j?,  orav  firiTe  CKTCivrirai  Jiri  ti,  iirtre  eato  (rvvrpe- 
XI,  finrf  avvi^ai'ri,  aWa  (biOTi  \afi7rr]Tat,  &c.  Marc.  Antonin.  lib.  U. 

p  Omnia  non  tain  habere  quam  esse.    Sen. 

q  I  Cor.  xi.  7.  r  Prov.  xiv.  M. 

s  Intimo  nostro  intimior.  Essenostnim  laudahile.  Giliienf.  He  libertate,  ci. 
Plat   ct.  An?.  tSir  ocnios.  sic  ille  nianns.  sic  era  ferebaf. 

u  2 1'ct.  i.  X  Eph.  iv.  IS.  y  Ver.  83, 34. 


Chap.  v't. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


213 


not  to  rest,  while  it  hath  any  being  there.  This  image 
calms  it,  restores  it,  works  a  peaceful,  orderly  composure 
within;  returns  it  to  itself,  to  its  pristine,  blessed  state; 
being  reseated  there,  as  in  its  proper,  primitive  subject. 
For  though  this  image,  in  respect  of  corrupted  nature,  be 
supernatural;  in  respect  of  institute, and  undefiled  nature, 
it  was  in  a  true  sense  natural,  a.s  hath  been  demonstrated 
by  divers  of  ours  against  the  papists ;  and  upon  the  matter, 
yielded  by  some  of  the  more  moderate  among  themselves.^ 
At  least  it  was  connate  with  human  nature,  consentaneous 
to  it,  and  perfective  of  it.  We  are  speaking,  it  must  be 
remembered,  of  that  part  of  the  Divine  image  that  con- 
sists in  moral  excellencies;  there  being  another  part  of  it, 
as  hath  been  said,  that  is,  even  in  the  strictest  sense  natu- 
ral. There  is  nothing  in  the  whole  moral  law  of  God,  (in 
conformity  whereunto  this  image  did,  ab  origine,  consist,) 
nothing  of  what  he  requires  from  man,  that  is  at  all  destruc- 
tive of  his  being,  prejudicial  to  his  comforts,  repugnant  to 
his  most  innate  principles:  nothing  that  clashes  with  his 
reason,  or  is  contrary  to  his  interest ;  or  that  is  not,  most 
directly  conservative  of  his  being  and  comforts,  agreea- 
ble to  his  most  rational  principles,  subservient  to  his  best 
and  truest  interest,  for  what  "doth  God  the  Lord  require, 
but  fear  and  love,  service,  and  holy  walking  from  an  en- 
tire and  undivided  soul  1  what,  but  what  is  good;  not  only 
in  itself,  but  for  us  ;  and  in  respect  whereof,  his  law  is 
said  to  beb  holy,  just  and  good  1  And  what  he  requireth, 
he  impresseth.  This  law,  written  in  the  heart,  is  this  like- 
ness. How  grateful,  then,  will  it  be,  when,  after  a  long 
extermination  and  exile,  it  returns  and  re-possesses  the 
soul,  is  recognized  by  it,  becomes  to  it  a  new  nature,  (yea, 
even  a  divine, )■=  a  vital,  living  law,  the  law  of  the  spirit 
of  life  in  Christ  Jesus !  What  grievance,  or  burden,  is  it 
to  do  the  dictates  of  nature  1  actions  that  easily  and  free- 
ly flow  from  their  own  principles  1  and,  when  blessedness 
itself  is  infolded  in  those  very  acts  and  inclinations  ■?  How 
infinitely  satisfying  and  delightful  will  it  be,  when  the  soul 
shall  find  itself  connaturalized  to  every  thing  in  its  duty  ; 
and  shall  have  no  other  duty  incumbent  on  it  than  to  be 
happy  !  when  it  shall  need  no  arguments  and  exhortations 
to  love  God:  nor  need  be  urged  and  pressed,  as  hereto- 
fore, to  mind  him,  to  fear  before  him!  when  love,  and  re- 
verence, and  adoration,  and  praise ;  when  delight,  and 
joy,  shall  be  all  natural  acts  !  Can  you  separate  this,  in 
your  own  thoughts,  from  the  highest  satisfaction  ■? 

4.  This  image  will  be  now  perfect;  every  way,  fully 
perfect. — L  In  all  its  parts,  as  it  is  in  the  first  instant  of 
the  soul's  entrance  into  the  state  of  regeneration ;  the 
womb  of  grace  knows  no  defective  maimed  births.  And 
yet  here  is  no  little  advantage,"  as  to  this  kind  of  perfec- 
tion. For  now  those  lively  lineaments  of  the  new  creature 
all  appear,  which  were  much  obscured  before  :  every  line 
of  glory  is  conspicuous,  every  character  legible,  the  whole 
entire  frame  of  this  image  is,  in  its  exact  symmetry  and 
apt  proportions,  visible  at  once.  And  'tis  an  unspeakable 
addition  to  the  pleasure  of  so  excellent  a  temper  of  spirit, 
that  accrues  from  the  discernible  entireness  of  it.  Here- 
tofore, some  gracious  dispositions  have  been  to  seek, 
(through  the  present  prevalence  of  some  corruption  or  temp- 
tation,) when  there  was  most  need  and  occasion  for  their 
being  reduced  into  act.  Hence  the  reward  and  pleasure 
of  the  act,  and  improvement  of  the  principle  were  lost  to- 
gether. Now,  the  soul  will  be  equally  disposed  to  every  holy 
exercise  that  shall  be  suitable  to  its  state.  Its  temper  shall 
be  even  and  symmetral;  its  motions  uniform  and  agree- 
able: nothing  done  out  of  season;  nothing  seasonable 
omitted,  for  want  of  a  present  disposition  of  spirit  thereto. 
There  will  be  not  only  an  habitual,  but  actual  entireness 
of  the  frame  of  holiness  in  the  blessed  soul. — 2.  Again 
this  image  will  be  perfect  in  degree ;  so  as  to  exclude  all 
degrees  of  its  contrary,  and  to  include  all  degrees  of  itself. 
There  will  be  now  no  longer  any  colluctation  with  contra- 
ry principles;  no  law  in  the  members  warring  against  the 
law  of  the  mind  ;  no  lustings  of  the  flesh  against  the  spi- 
rit. That  war  is  now  ended  in  a  glorious  victory,  and 
eternal  peace.     There  will  be   no  remaining  blindness 

z  As  may  \w  seen  liy  rnmparinir  wliat  Estiussaysto  tlic  two  question?.  I.  An 
gratia  fuorit  prirno  liomini  naturalis  ?  2.  Utrum  originalis  justitia  fui-rit  tiomi- 
ni  supematuralis  ?    I.  2.  (list.  25. 

a  Deut.  X.  18.  Mic.  vi.  3.  b  Rom.  ni.  12. 

18 


of  mind,  nor  error  of  judgment,  nor  perver.seness  of  will, 
nor  irregularity  or  rebellion  of  affections  :  no  ignoranceof 
God,  no  aversation  from  him,  or  disaffection  towards  him. 
This  likeness  removes  all  culpable  dissimilitude  orunlike- 
ness.  This  communicated  ^ory  fills  up  the  whole  soul, 
causes  all  clcjuds  and  darkness  to  vanish,  leaves  no  place 
for  any  thing  that  is  vile  or  inglorious  ;  'tis  pure  glory, 
free  from  mixture  of  any  thing  that  is  alien  to  it.  And  it 
is  itself  full.  The  soul  is  replenished,  not  with  air)',  eva- 
nid  shadows;  but  with  substantial,  solid  glor}',(i  a  massive, 
weighty  glory ;  for  I  know  not  but  subjective  glory  may 
be  taken  in  within  the  significancy  of  that  known  scripture, 
if  it  be  not  more  principally  intended  ;  inasmuch  as  the 
text  .speaks  of  a  glory  to  be  wrought  out  by  afflictions,  which 
are  the  files  and  furnaces,  as  it  were,  to  polish  or  refme 
the  soul  into  a  glorious  frame.  'Tis  cumulated  glory,  glory 
added  to  glory.  Here  'tis  growing,  progressive  glory,' we 
are  changed  into  the  same- image  from  glory  to  glory.  It 
shall,  now,  be  stable,  consistent  glory  ;  that  carries  a  self- 
fulness  with  it:  (which  some  include  also  in  the  no- 
tion of  purity  :)f  'tis  full  itself,  includes  every  degree  re- 
quisite to  its  own  perfection.  God  hath  now  put  the  last 
hand  to  this  glorious  image,  added  to  it  its  ultimate  ac- 
complishments. Now  a  conformity  to  Christ,  even  in  the 
resurrection  from  the  dead,  in  his  glorious  state,  is  fully 
attained.  That  prize  of  the  high  calling  of  God  is  now 
won.  And  the  humble  sense  of  not  having  attained  as 
yet,  and  of  not  being  already  perfect,  (in  which  humility 
the  foundation  of  the  temple  of  God  in  a  saint  Ls  laid,  and 
the  building  raised.)  is  turned  into  joyful  acclamations, 
"  Grace,  grace !"  for  the  laying  on  of  the  top  stone,  the 
finishing  of  this  glorious  work.  And  when  ihis  temple  is 
filled  with  the  glory  of  the  Lord,  the  soul  itself  reple- 
nished with  the  divine  fulness,  will  not  its  joys  be  full  tool 
For  here  is  no  sacrifice  to  be  offered  but  that  of  praise, 
and  joy  is  the  proper  seasoning  for  that  sacrifice. 

Now,  the  new  creature  hath  arrived  to  the  measure  of 
the  stature  of  a  perfect  man  in  Christ  Jesus.  The'first 
formation  of  this  spiritual,  as  well  as  of  the  natural  man, 
was  hidden  and  secret,  it  was  curiously  wrought,  and  in  a 
way  no  more  liable  to  observation,  than  that  of  framing 
the  child  in  the  womb;  as  that  is  as  hidden  as  the  con- 
coction of  minerals,  or  precious  stones,  in  the  lower  parts 
of  the  earth.  No  secrets  of  nature  can  outvie  the  mysteries 
of  godliness.  Its  growth  is  also  by  ver}'  insensible  de- 
grees, as  it  is  with  the  products  of  nature :  but  its  arrival 
to  perfection  is  infinitely  more  strange  than  any  thing  in 
nature  ever  was.  How  sudden  and  wonderf'ul  is  the 
change,  when,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  the  blessed 
soul  instantly  awakes  out  of  drowsy  languishings,  and  mi- 
serable weakness,  into  perfect  strength  and  vigour  !?  As  a 
man  is,  so  is  his  strength;  and  as  his  strength  is,  so  is  his 
joy  and  pleasure.  The  sun  is  said  to  go  forth  as  a  strong 
man,  rejoicing  to  run  his  race.  When  a  man  goes,  in  the 
fulness  of  his  strength,  upon  anj'  enterprise,  how  doth  his 
blood  and  spirits  triumph  before-hand!  No  motion  of 
hand  or  foot,  is  without  a  sensible  delight.  The  strength 
of  a  man's  spirit,  is,  unspeakably,  more  than  that  of  the 
outward  man ;  its  faculties  and  powers  more  refined  and 
raised;  and  hence  arc  rational  or  intellectual  exercises 
and  operations  much  more  delightful  than  corporeal  ones 
can  be.  But  (still  as  the  man  is,  so  is  his  strength)  'tis  an 
incomparably  greater  strength  that  attends  the  heaven-born 
man.  This  man  born  of  God,  begotten  of  God,  after  his 
own  likeness ;  this  hero,  this  son  of  God,  was  born  to 
conflicts,  to  victories,  to  triumphs.  While  he  is  yet  but  in 
his  growing  age,  he  overcomes  the  world;  (as  Hercules 
the  serpents  in  his  cradle ;")  overcomes  the  wicked  one,  and 
is  at  last  more  than  conqueror.  A  mighty  power  attends 
godliness;  "a  spirit  of  power,  and  of  a  sound  mind; 
but  how  much  this  divine  creature  grows,  so  much  the 
more  like  God :  and  being  perfect,  conflicts  cease :  he  had 
overcome  and  won  the  crown  before.  And  now  all  his 
strength  runs  out  into  acts  of  plea.^ure.  Now  when  he 
shali  go  forth  in  his  might  to  love  God,  (as  we  are  re- 
quired to  love  him  now  with  all  our  might,  and  every  act 

c  Rom.  viii.  2.  d  2  Cor.  iv.  17.  e  2  Cor.  iii.  18. 

f  Puniin  est  quod  est  plenum  sui,  et  quod  minimum  babet  aUem. 
g  Psal.  xi-x. 


V!14 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


CHip.  VIII. 


of  praise  shall  be  an  act  of  power,  done  with  a  fulness  of 
strength,  (as  'tis  said  their  praises,  at  the  bringing  home  of 
the  ark,  were  with  all  their  might,)  O !  what  will  the 
pleasure  be  that  shall  accompany  this  state  of  perfection  ! 
Perfect  power  and  perfect  pleasure  are  here  met,  and  shall 
for  ever  dwell  together,  and  be  always  commensurate  to 
one  another.  They  are  so  here,  in  their  imperfect  state  : 
our  feeble,  spiritless  duties,  weak,  dead  prayers ;  they  have 
no  more  sweetness  than  strength,  no  more  pleasure  than 
power  in  them.  Therefore  we  are  listless,  and  have  no 
mind  to  duties,  as  we  find  we  are  more  frequently  desti- 
tute of  a  spiritual  liveliness  and  vigour  therein.  When  a 
spirit  of  might  and  power  goes  on  with  us  in  the  wonted 
course  of  our  converses  with  God,  we  then  forecast  oppor- 
tunities, and  gladly  welcome  the  season,  when  it  extraor- 
dinarily occurs,  of  drawing  nigh  to  him.  It  cannot  be 
thought,  that  the  connexion  and  proportion  between  these 
should  fail  in  glory ;  or  that,  when  every  thing  else  is  per- 
fect, the  blessed  soul  itself  made  perfect,  even  as  God  him- 
self is  perfect,  in  this  bearing  his  likeness,  should  be  unlike 
him  in  bliss ;  or  its  satisfaction  be  imperfect. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  satisfaction  carried  in  the  glory  of  God  impressed,  further  shown  by  in- 
stances. Certain  particulars  of  this  ;  impression  instanced  in  a  dependent 
frame  of  spirit,  subjection  or  self  devoting,  love,  purity,  liberty,  tranquil- 
hty. 

But  besides  the  general  consideration  of  this  likeness, 
we  shall  instance  in  some  of  the  particular  excellencies 
comprehended  in  it,  wherein  the  blessed  shall  imitate  and 
resemble  God  :  whence  we  may  farther  estimate  the  plea- 
sure and  satisfaction  that  being  like  God  will  afford. — 
Only  here  let  it  be  remembered,  that  as  we  all  along  in 
this  discourse,  speak  of  likeness  to  God  in  respect  of  mo- 
ral excellencies;  so  by  likeness  to  him,  in  respect  of  these, 
we  understand,  not  only  a  participation  of  those  which  are 
communicable ;  but  a  correspondent  impress  also  as  to 
those  that  are  incommunicable ;  as  hath  been  more  dis- 
tinctly opened  in  the  propositions  concerning  this  likeness. 
"Which  being  premised,  I  shall  give  instances  of  both  kinds, 
to  discover  somewhat  of  the  inexpressible  pleasure  of  being 
thus  conformed  to  God.  And  here,  pretermitting  the  im- 
press of  knowledge  of  which  we  have  spoken  imder  the 
former  head  of  vision,  we  shall  instance, 

1.  In  a  dependent  frame  of  spirit,  which  is  the  proper  im- 
press of  the  Divine  all-sufficiency  and  self-fulness,  duly  ap- 
prehended by  the  blessed  soul.  It  is  not  easy  to  conceive  a 
higher  pleasure  than  this,  compatible  to  a  creature, — the 
pleasure  of  dependance;  yea,  this  is  a  higher  than  we  can 
conceive.  Dependance  (which  speaks  the  creature's 
Tx^c'i  or  habitude  to  its  principle,  as  the  subserviency  which 
imports  its  habitude  to  its  end)  is  two-fold. — I.  Natural  : 
which  is  common  and  essential  to  all  creatures ;  even  when 
no  such  thing  is  thought  on,  or  considered  by  them.  The 
creatures  live,  move,  and  have  their  beings  inGod,  whether 
they  think  of  it  or  no. — 2.  Vohmtary,  or  rational :  which 
is  de facto,  peculiar;  and  de  jure,  common  to  reasonable 
creatures  as  such.  A  dependance  that  is,  Ik  Tzpoaipiinwi, 
elective  f  and,  with  a  foregoing  reason,  (which  I  under- 
stand by  elective,  not  a  liberty  of  doing,  or  not  doing  it,) 
and  concomitant  consideration  of  what  we  do,  and  animad- 
version of  our  own  act  :  when  knov/ingly  and  willingly, 
understanding  ourselves  in  what  we  do,"we  go  out  of  our- 
selves, and  live  in  God.  This  is  the  dependance  of  which 
I  speak.  And  it  cannot  but  be  attended  with  transcendant 
pleasure  in  that  other  state,  when  that  knowledge  and  ani- 
madversion shall  be  clear  and  perfect:  both,  as  this  depen- 
dance imports— a  nullifying  of  self— and  magnifying  (I 
may  call  it  omnifying)  of  God,  a  making  him  all  in  all. — 
As  it  imports  (which  it  doth  most  evidently)  a  self-anni- 
hilation, ap^tre  nullifying  of  self ,  'tis  a  continual  recogni- 
tion of  my  own  nothingness,  a  "momently,  iterated  confes- 
sion, that  my  whole  btnng  is  nothing,  but  a  mere  puff  of 
precarious  breath,  a  bubble  raised  from  nothing,  by  the 
arbitrary  fiat  of  the  great  Creator ;  reducible,  had  he  so 
a  Gal.  ii.  20. 


pleased,  any  moment  to  nothing  again.  These  are  true 
and  just  acknowledgments,  and  to  a  well-tempered  soul 
infinitely  pleasant,  when  the  stale  of  the  case  is  thoroughlj' 
understood,  (as  now  it  is,)  and  it  hath  the  apprehension 
clear  ;  how  the  creation  is  sustained,  how,  and  upon  whai 
terms,  its  own  being,  life  and  blessedness  are  continued  to 
it;  that  it  is  every  moment,  determinable  upon  the  con- 
stancy of  the  creator's  will,  that  it  is  not  simply  nothing. 
'Tis  not  possible  that  any  thing  should  hinder  this  consi- 
deration from  being  eternally  delightful,  but  that  diaboli- 
cal uncreaturely  pride,  that  is  long  since  banished  heaven, 
and  that  banished  its  very  subjects  thence  also.  Nothing 
can  suit  that  temper,  but  to  be  a  god;  to  be  wholly  inde- 
pendent, to  be  its  own  sufficiency.  The  thoughts  of  living 
at  the  will  and  pleasure  of  another,  are  grating;  but  they 
are  only  grating  to  a  proud  heart,  which  here,  hath  no 
place.  A  soul  naturalized  to  humiliations,  accustomed  to 
prostrations  and  self-abasements,  trained  up  in  acts  of 
mortification,  and  that  was  brought  to  glory  through  a 
continued  course  and  series  of  self-denial ;  that  ever  since 
it  first  came  to  know  itself,  was  wont  to  depend  for  every 
moment's  breath,  for  every  glimpse  of  light,  for  every 
fresh  influence,  ("I  live,  yet  not  I — )  with  what  pleasure 
doth  it,  now,  as  it  were,  vanish  before  the  Lord  !  what  de- 
light doth  it  take  to  diminish  itself,  and  as  it  were,  disap- 
pear ;  to  contract  and  shrivel  up  itself,  to  shrink  even  into 
a  point,  into  a  nothing,  in  the  presence  of  the  Divine  glo- 
ry ;  that  it  may  be  all  in  all !  Things  are  now  pleasant, 
(to  the  soul,  in  its  right  mind)  as  they  are  suitable ;  as 
they  carry  a  comeliness  and  congruity  in  them  ;  and  no- 
thing now  appears  more  becoming,  than  such  a  self-annihila- 
tion. The  distances  of  Creator  and  creature,  of  infinite 
and  finite,  of  a  necessary  and  arbitrary  being,  of  a  self- 
originated  and  a  derived  being,  of  what  was  from  ever- 
lasting, and  what  had  a  beginning ;  are  now  better  imder- 
stood  than  ever.  And  the  soul,  by  how  much  it  is  now 
come  nearer  to  God,  is  more  apprehensive  of  its  distance. 
And  such  a  frame  and  posture  doth,  hence,  please  it  best, 
and  doth  most  fitly  correspond  thereto.  Nothing  is  so 
pleasing  to  it,  as  to  be  as  it  ought.  That  temper  is  most 
grateful  that  is  most  proper,  and  which  best  agreed  with 
its  state.  Dependance  therefore  is  greatly  pleasing,  as  it 
is  a  self-nullifying  thing.  And  yet  it  is,  in  this  respect, 
pleasing,  but  as  a  means  to  a  further  end.  The  pleasure 
that  attends  it,  is  higher  and  more  intense,  according  as  it 
more  immediately  attains  that  end,  viz.  the  magnifying 
and  exalting  of  God  :  which  is  the  most  connatural  thing 
to  the  holy  soul ;  the  most  fundamental  and  deeply  im- 
pressed law  of  the  new  creature.  Self  gives  place, 
that  God  may  take  it :  becomes  nothing,  that  he  may  be 
all :  it  vanishes,  that  his  glory  may  shine  the  brighter. — 
Dependance  gives  God  his  proper  glory.  'Tis  the  peculiar 
honour  and  prerogative  of  a  Deity,  to  have  a  world  of 
creatures  hanging  upon  it,  staying  themselves  upon  it ;  to 
be  the  fulcrum,  the  centre  of  a  lapsing  creation.  When 
this  dependance  is  voluntary  and  intelligent,  it  carries  m 
it  a  more  explicit  owning  and  acknowledgment  of  God. 
By  how  much  more  this  is  the  distinct  and  actual  sense  of 
my  soul,  Lord,  I  cannot  live  but  by  thee  ;  so  much  the 
more  openly  and  plainly  do  I  speak  it  out.  Lord,  thou  art 
God  alone;  thou  art  the  fulness  of  life  and  being;  the  only 
root  and  spring  of  life ;  the  everlasting  I  AM ;  the  Being 
of  beings. 

How  unspeakably  pleasant,  to  a  holy  soul,  will  such  a 
perpetual  agnition  or  acknowledgment  of  God  be  !  when 
the  perpetuation  of  its  being  shall  be  nothing  else  than  a 
perpetuation  of  this  acknowledgment;  when  every  renewed 
aspiration,  every  motion,  every  pulse  of  the  glorified  soul, 
shall  be  but  a  repetition  of  it;  when  it  shall  find,  itself,  in 
the  eternity  of  life,  that  everlasting  state  of  life  which  it 
now  possesses,  to  be  nothing  else  than  an  everlasting  testi- 
mony that  God  is  God  :  He  is  so,  for,  I  am,  I  live,  I  act, 
I  have  the  power  to  love  him;  none  of  which  could 
otherwise  be.  When  amongst  the  innumerable  myriads 
of  the  heavenly  host,  this  shall  be  the  mutual,  alternate 
testimony  of  each  to  all  the  rest  throughout  eternity,  will 
not  this  be  pleasant  1  when  each  shall  feel  continually 
the  fresh  illapses  and  incomes  of  God,  the  power  and 
sweetness  of  Divine  influences,  the  enlivening  vigour  of 


Chip.  VIII. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


215 


that  vital  breath,  and  find  in  themselves,  thus  we  live  and 
are  sustained :  and  are  yet  as  secure,  touching  the  con- 
tinuance of  this  state  of  life,  as  if  every  one  were  a  god  to 
himself;  and  did  each  one  possess  an  entire  godhead. 
When  their  sensible  dependance  on  him,  in  their  glorified 
state,  shall  be  a  perpetual  triumph  over  all  the  imaginary 
deities,  the  fancied  AVm/i*/,  wherewith  he  was  heretofore 
provoked  to  jealousy;  and  he  shall  now  have  no  rival  left, 
but  be  acknowledged  and  known,  to  be  all  in  all.     How 

Eleasant  will  it  then  be,  as  it  were,  to  lose  themselves  in 
im  !  and  to  be  swallowed  up  in  the  overcoming  sense  of 
his  boundless,  all-sufficient,  every-where  flowing  fulness ! 
And  then  add  to  this ;  they  do  by  this  dependance  ac- 
tually make  this  fulness  of  God  their  own.  They  are  now 
met  in  one  common  principle  of  life  and  blessedness,  that 
is  sufficient  for  them  all.  They  no  longer  live  a  life  of 
care,  are  perpetually  exempt  from  solicitous  thoughts, 
which  here  they  could  not  perfectly  attain  to  in  their 
earthly  state.  They  have  nothing  to  do  but  to  depend  ;  to 
live  upon  a  present  self-sufficient  good,  which  alone  is 
enough  to  replenish  all  desires  ;  else  it  were  not  self-suffi- 
cient. bHow  can  we  divide,  in  our  most  abstractive 
thoughts,  (he  highest  pleasure,  the  fullest  satisfaction,  from 
this  dependance  ]  'Tis  to  live  at  the  rate  of  a  God  ;  a  God- 
like life  :  a  living  upon  immense  fulness,  as  he  lives. 

2.  Subjection;  which  I  place  next  to  dependance,  as 
being  of  the  same  allay  ;  the  product  of  impre.ssed  sove- 
reignty ;  as  the  other,  of  all-sufficient  fulness.  Both  im- 
pressions upon  the  creature,  corresponding  to  somewhat  in 
God,  most  inconomunicably  appropriate  to  him.  This  is 
the  soul's  real  and  practical  acknowledgment  of  the 
supreme  Majesty  ;  its  homage  to  its  Maker  ;  its  self-dedi- 
cation :  than  which  nothing  more  suits  the  state  of  a  crea- 
ture, or  the  spirit  of  a  saint.  And  as  it  is  suitable,  'tis 
pleasant.  'Tis  that  b}''  which  the  blessed  soul  becomes, 
in  its  own  sense,  a  consecrated  thing,  a  devoted  thing, 
sacred  to  God  :  its  very  life  and  whole  being  referred  and 
made  over  to  him.  With  what  delightful  relishes,  what 
sweet  gusts  of  pleasure,  is  this  done !  while  the  soul  tastes 
its  own  act;  approves  it  with  a  full  ungainsaying  judg- 
ment ;  apprehends  the  condignity  and  fitness  of  it ;  assents 
to  itself  herein;  and  hath  the  ready  suffrage,  the  harmo- 
nious concurrence,  of  all  its  powers !  When  the  words  are 
no  sooner  spoken,  "Worthy  art  thou,  O  Lord,  to  receive 
glory,  honour,  and  power,  for  thou  hast  created  all  things, 
and  for  thy  pleasure  they  are  and  were  created  ;"  but  they 
are  resounded  from  the  penetralia,  the  mmpst  bmreh,  the 
most  intimate  receptacles  and  secret  chambers  of  the  soul, 
O  Lord,  thou  art  worthy:  worthy,  that  I,  and  all  things, 
should  be  to  thee  :  worthy,  to  be  the  Omega,  as  thou  art 
the  Alpha,  the  last,  as  thou  art  the  first ;  the  end,  as  thou 
art  the  beginning,  of  all  things;  the  ocean  into  which  all 
being  shall  flow,  as  the  fountain  from  which  it  sprung.  My 
whole  self,  and  all  my  powers,  the  excellencies  now  im- 
planted in  my  being,  the  privileges  of  my  now  glorified 
state,  are  all  worth  nothing  to  me  but  for  thee ;  please  me 
only,  as  they  make  me  fitter  for  thee.  O  the  pleasure  of 
these  sentiments,  the  joy  of  such  raptures;  when  the  soul 
shall  have  no  other  notion  of  itself,  than  of  an  everlasting 
sacrifice,  always  ascending  to  God  in  its  own  flames. 

For  this  devotedness  and  subjection  speak  not  barely 
an  act,  but  a  state  ;  a  "^being  to  the  praise  of  grace  ;  a  living 
to  God.  And  'tis  no  mean  pleasure  that  the  sincere  soul 
finds,  in  the  imperfect  beginnings,  the  first  essays  of  this 
life,  the  initial  breathings  of  such  a  spirit,  its  entrance  into 
this  blessed  state ;  when  it  makes  the  first  tender  and 
prosent  of  itself  to  God  ;  (as  the  apostle  expresses  it ;)  when 
it  first  begins  to  esteem  itself  a  hallowed  thin?,  separate 
and  set  apart  for  God  ;  its  first  act  of  unfeigned  self-resig- 
nation ;  when  it  tells  God  from  the  very  heart,  "I  now 
give  up  myself  to  thee  to  be  thine."  Never  was  marriage- 
covenant  made  with  such  pleasure,  with  so  complacential 
consent.  This  quitting  claim  to  ourselves,  parting  with 
ourselves  upon  such  terms,  to  be  the  Lord's  for  ever  :  O 
the  peace,  the  rest,  the  acquiescence  of  spirit  that  attends 
it  I  When  the  poor  soul  that  was  weary  of  itself,  knew 
not  what  to  do  with  itself,  hath  now  on  the  sudden  found 

b  T'l  i^t  aiiTO/wrEf  TiOcjxtv,  o  tiovovfievov  aiperov  rroici  tov  fftoi',  oai  ftriSc 
V .?  evocai.    Arist.  dc  mor.  lib.  l.  c.  4. 
c  Rom.  xii.  I.  dRom.  vi.  13.  e  Ver.  16. 


this  way  of  disposing  itself  to  such  an  advantage  ;  there  is 
pleasure  in  this  treaty.  Even  the  previous  breakings  and 
releniings  of  the  .soul  towaids  God  are  pleasant.  But  O 
the  pleasure  of  consent !  ofd  yielding  ourselves  to  God, 
as  the  apostle's  expression  is  ;  when  the  soul  is  overcome, 
and  cries  out,  "  Lord,  now  I  resign,  I  yield  ;  possess  now 
thy  own  right,  I  give  up  myself  to  thee."  That  j-ielding  is 
subjection,  .self-devoiing;  in  order  to  future  service  and 
obedience,  ^To  whom  ye  yield  ourselves  servants  to  obey 
&c.  And  never  did  any  man  enrol  himself,  as  a  servant 
to  the  greatest  prince  on  earth,  with  such  joy.  What  plea- 
sure is  there  in  the  often  iterated  recognition  of  these  trans- 
actions ;  in  multijjlying  such  bonds  upon  a  man's  own 
soul  (though  done  faintly,  while  the  fear  of  breaking 
checks  its  joy  in  taking  them  on  !)  When  in  the  uttering 
of  these  words, f  I  am  thy  servant,  O  Lord ;  thy  servant, 
the  son  of  thine  hand-maid,  i.  e.  thy  born-servant,  (allud- 
ing to  that  custom  and  law-  among  the  Jews,)?  thy  servant 
devoted  to  thy  fear ;  a  man  finds  they  fit  his  spirit,  and 
are  aptly  expressive  of  the  true  sense  of  his  .soul  ;  is  it  not 
a  grateful  thing  "?  And  how  pleasant  is  a  state  of  life  con- 
sequent and  agreeable  to  such  transactions  and  covenants 
with  God !  When  'tis  meat  and  drink  to  do  his  will ! 
When  his  zeal  eats  a  man  up ;  and  one  shall  find  himself 
secretly  consuming  for  God  !  and  the  vigour  of  his  soul 
exhaled  in  his  service  !  Is  it  not  a  pleasant  thing  bo  to 
spend  and  be  spent  1  When  one  can  in  a  measure  find  that 
his  will  is  one  with  God's,  transformed  into  the  Divine  will: 
that  there  is  but  one  common  will,  and  interest,  and  end 
between  him  and  us;  and  so,  that  in  serving  God  we 
reign  with  him  ;  in  spending  ourselves  for  him,  we  are  per- 
fected in  him.  Is  not  this  a  pleasant  Ufe"?  Some  heathens 
have  spoken  at  such  a  rate  of  this  kind  of  life,  as  might 
make  us  wonder  and  blush.  One  speaking  of  a  virtuous 
person  saith,  "  iii/e  is  a  good  soldier  that  bears  wovnds,  and 
numbers  scars;  and  at  last,  smitten  through  with  darts, 
dying,  will  love  the  emperor  for  whom  he  falls ;  he  will 
(saith  he)  keep  in  mind  that  ancient  precept,  Follow  God. 
But  there  are  that  complain,  cry  out  and  groan,  and  arc 
compelled  by  force  to  do  his  commands,  and  hurried  into 
them  against  their  will ;  and  what  a  madness  is  it  (said  he) 
to  be  drawn  rather  than  follow  !"  And  presently  after  sub- 
joins, "  We  are  born  in  a  kingdom  ;  to  obey  God  is  liberty." 
The  same  person  writes  in  a  letter  to  a  friend :  "  ilf  thou 
believe  me  when  I  most  freely  discover  to  thee  the  most 
secret  fixed  temper  of  my  soul,  in  all  things  my  mind  is 
thus  formed :  I  obey  not  God  so  properly  as  I  assent  to 
him.  I  fallow  him  with  all  my  heart,  not  because  I  cannot 
avoid  it."  And  another,  "  kLead  me  to  whatsoever  I  am 
appointed,  and  I  will  follow  thee  cheerfully;  but  if  I  re- 
fuse, or  be  unwilling,  I  shall  follow  notwithstanding." 

A  soul  cast  into  such  a  mould,  formed  into  an  obedien- 
tial subject  frame,  what  sweet  peace  doth  it  enjoy !  how 
pleasant  rest!  Every  thing  rests  most  composedly  in  its 
proper  place.  A  bone  out  of  joint  knows  no  ease,  nor 
lets  the  body  enjoy  any.  The  creature  is  not  in  its  place 
but  when  'tis  thus  subject,  is  in  this  subordination  to  God. 
By  flying  out  of  this  subordination,  the  world  of  mankind 
is  become  one  great  disjointed  body,  full  of  weary  toss- 
ings,  unacquainted  with  ease  or  rest.  That  soul  that  is, 
but  in  a  degree,  reduced  to  that  blessed  state  and  temper, 
is  as  it  were  in  a  new  world  ;  so  great  and  happy  a  change 
doth  it  now  feel  in  itself  But  when  this  transformation 
shall  be  completed  in  it;  and  the  will  of  God  shall  be  no 
sooner  known  than  rested  in  with  a  complacential  appro- 
bation; and  every  motion  of  the  first  and  great  Mover 
shall  be  an  efficacious  law,  to  guide  and  determine  all  our 
motions;  and  the  lesser  wheels  shall  presently  run  at  the 
first  impulse  of  the  great  and  master-wheel,  without  the 
least  rub  or  hesitation ;  when  the  law  of  sin  shall  no 
longer  check  the  law  of  God  ;  when  all  the  contentions  of 
a  rebellious  flesh,  all  the  coimtcr-strivings  of  a  perverse, 
ungovernable  heart,  shall  cea.<e  forever;  O  unconceivable 
blessedne.ss  of  this  consent,  the  pleasure  of  this  joyful  har- 
mony, this  peaceful  accord !  Obedience,  where  'tis  due  but 
from  one  creature  to  another,  carries  its  no  small  advan- 
tages with  it,  and  conducibleness  to  a  pleasant  imsolicit- 

f  Psal.  cxvi.  16.  g  Psal,.  cxix.  33. 

li  8eneca  de  vita  twala,  lib.  .xv.  Et  ut  bonus  miles  teret  vulnera,  &c 

iEpist.  xcvi.  kEpictet.  Etichir. 


216 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


Chap.  VIII. 


ous  life.  To  be  particularly  prescribed  to  in  things 
about  which  our  minds  would  otherwise  be  tost  with 
various  apprehensions,  anxious,  uncertain  thoughts ;  how 
great  a  privilege  is  it !  I  cannot  forget  a  pertinent  passage 
of  an  excellent  person  of  recent  memory. i  And  (saith  he) 
for  pleasure,  I  shall  profess  myself  so  far  from  doting  on 
that  popular  idol  liberty,  that  I  hardly  think  it  possible 
for  any  kind  of  obedience  to  be  more  painful  than  an  un- 
restrained liberty.  Were  there  not  true  bounds  of  magis- 
trates, of  laws,  of  piety,  of  reason  in  the  heart,  every  man 
Avould  have  a  fool,  I  add,  a  mad  tyrant,  to  his  master,  that 
would  multiply  more  sorrows,  than  briers  and  thorns  did 
to  Adam,  when  he  was  freed  from  the  bliss  at  once,  and 
the  restraint  of  paradise  ;  and  was  sure  greater  slave  in  the 
wilderness,  than  in  the  enclosure.  Would  but  the  Scrip- 
ture permit  me  that  kind  of  idolatry,  the  binding  my  faith 
and  obedience  to  any  one  visible  infallible  judge  or  prince, 
were  it  the  Pope,  or  the  Mufti,  or  the  Grand  Tartar ; 
might  it  be  reconcilable  with  my  creed,  it  would  be  certainly 
with  my  interest,  to  get  presently  into  that  posture  of 
obedience.  I  should  learn  so  much  of  the  barbarian  am- 
bassadors in  Appian,  which  came  on  purpose  to  the  Ro- 
mans to  negotiate  for  leave  to  be  their  servants.  'T would 
be  my  policy,  if  not  my  piety ;  and  may  now  be  my  wish, 
though  not  my  faith,  that  I  might  never  have  the  trouble 
to  deliberate,  to  dispute,  to  doubt,  to  choose,  (those  so 
many  proiitless  uneasiness,)  but  only  the  favour  to  re- 
ceive commands,  and  the  meekness  to  obey  them.  How 
pleasurable  then  must  obedience  be  to  the  perfect  will  of 
the  blessed  God,  when  our  wills  shall  also  be  perfectly 
attempered  and  conformed  thereunto  !  Therefore  are  we 
taught.  Thy  will  be  done  in  earth,  as  it  is  in  heaven.™  What 
is  most  jJcrfect  in  its  kind,  gives  rule  to  the  rest. 

3.  Love.  This  is  an  eminent  part  of  the  image  or  like- 
ness of  God  in  his  saints ;  as  it  is  that  great  attribute  of 
the  Divine  being  that  is,  alone,  put  to  give  us  a  notion  of 
God :"  God  is  love.  This  is  an  excellency  (consider  it 
whether  in  its  original,  or  copy)  made  up  of  pleasantnesses. 
All  love  hath  complacency  or  pleasure  in  the  nature  and 
most  formal  notion  of  it.  To  search  for  pleasure  in  love 
is  the  same  thing  as  if  a  man  should  be  solicitous  to  find 
water  in  the  sea,  or  light  in  the  body  of  the  sun.  Love  to 
a  friend  is  not  without  high  pleasure,  when  especially  he 
is  actually  present  and  enjoyed  ;  love  to  a  saint  rises  higher 
in  nobleness  and  pleasure,  according  to  the  more  excellent 
qualification  of  its  object.  'Tisnowinits  highest  improve- 
ment, in  both  the.se  aspects  of  it;  where  whatsoever  tends 
to  gratify  our  nature,  whether  as  human,  or  holy,  will  be 
in  its  full  perfection.  Now  doth  the  soul  take  up  its  staled 
dwelling  in  love,  even  in  God,  who  is  love,  and  as  he  is 
love ;  'tis  now  enclosed  with  love,  encompassed  with  love, 
'tis  conversant  in  the  proper  region  and  element  of  love. 
The  love  of  God  is  now  perfected  in  it.  That  love  which 
is  not  only  participated  from  him,  but  terminated  in  him, 
that  "perfect  love,  casts  out  tormenting  fear;  so  that  here 
is  pleasure  withoixt  mixture.  How  "naturally  will  the 
blessed  soul  now  dissolve  and  melt  into  pleasure!  It  is 
new-framed  on  purpose  for  love-embraces  and  enjoyments. 
It  shall  now  love  like  God,  as  one  composed  of  love.  It 
shall  no  longer  be  its  complaint  and  burden,  that  it  can- 
not retaliate  in  this  kind ;  that  being  beloved  it  cannot 
love. 

4.  Purity.  Herein  also  must  the  blessed  soul  resemble 
God,  and  delight  itself  Every  one  that  hath  this  hope, 
(mz.  of  being  hereafter  like  God,  and  seeing  him  as  he  is,) 
purifieth  himself  as  he  is  pure.  A  God-like  purity  is  in- 
timately connected  with  the  expectation  of  future  blessed- 
ness, niuch  more  with  the  fruition.  "  Blessed  are  the  pure 
in  heart ;"  besides  the  reason  there  annexed,  "  for  they  shall 
see  God  ;"  (which  is  to  be  considered  under  the  other  head, 
the  pleasure  under  which  this  likeness  disposes;)  that  pro- 
position carries  its  own  reason  in  itself  It  is  an  incom- 
parable pleasure  that  purity  carries  in  its  own  nature  ;  as 
sin  hath  in  its  very  nature,  besides  its  consequent  guilt 
and  sorrow,  trouble  and  torment  beyond  expression.  What- 

I  Dr.  Hammond's  Sermon  of  Christ's  easy  yoke. 

m  Pertectissimum  in  siio  genere  est  mensura  reliiiuorum 

"'John  IV.  8,16.  olJohniv. 

p  Whose  doctrme,  as  to  this  matter  of  pleasure,  is  not  so  much  to  be  blamed 
M  his  practice,  if  both  be  nghtly  represented  to  us.  'Ovk  can  n&wc  Cm  avev 
Tov^sontjiMs  Kat  dixaccos.    Ex.  Cicer.  L  de  Fin. 


soever  defiles,  doth  also  disturb;  nor  do  any  but  pure  plea- 
sures deserve  the  name.  An  Epicurus  himself  will  tell  us,p 
there  cannot  be  pleasure  icithout  vrisdom,  honesty,  and  rights 
eousness.  'Tis  least  of  all  possible  there  should,  when  once 
a  person  shall  have  a  right  knowledge  of  himself,  and 
(which  is  the  moral  impurity  whereof  M'e  speak)  the  filthi- 
ness  of  sin.  I  doubt  not  but  much  of  the  torment  of  hell 
will  consist  in  those  too  late  and  despairing  self-loathings, 
those  sickly  resentments,  the  impure  wretches  will  be  pos- 
sessed with,  when  they  see  what  hideous  deformed  mon- 
sters their  own  wickedness  hath  made  them.  Here  the 
gratifications  of  sense  that  attend  it,  bribe  and  seduce  their 
judgments  into  another  estimate  of  sin:  but  then  it  shall 
be  no  longer  thought  of  under  the  more  favourable  notion 
of  a.  y\vKtTTtKp(ii/ ;  they  shall  taste  nothing  but  the  gall  and 
worm-wood.  'Tis  certainly  no  improbable  thing,  but  that 
reason  being  now  so  fully  rectified  and  undeceived,  vizors 
torn  oflT,  and  things  now  appearing  in  their  own  likeness ; 
so  much  will  be  seen  and  apprehended  of  the  intrinsic 
evil  and  malignity  of  their  vitiated  nature,  as  will  serve 
for  the  matter  of  further  torment ;  while  yet  such  a  sight 
can  do  no  more  to  a  change  of  their  temper,  than  the 
devils'  faith  doth  to  theirs.  Such  sights  being  accompanied 
with  their  no-hope  of  ever  attaining  a  better  state,  do 
therefore  no  way  tend  to  mollify  or  demulce  their  spirits, 
but  to  increase  their  rage  and  torment.  It  is  however  out 
of  question,  that  the  purity  of  heaven  will  infinitely  en- 
hance the  pleasure  of  it :  for  'tis  more  certain,  the  intrin- 
sical  goodness  of  holiness  (which  term  I  need  not  among 
these  instances;  inasmuch  as  the  thing  admits  not  of 
one  entire  notion,  but  lies  partly  under  this  head,  partly 
under  the  second,  that  of  devotedness  to  God)  will  be 
fully  understood  in  heaven,  than  the  intrin.sical  evil  of  sin 
in  hell :  and  when  it  is  understood,  will  it  not  effect  1 
will  it  not  please  1  Even  here,  how  pleasing  are  things  to 
the  pure,  (but  in  degree  so,)  that  participate  of  the  Divine 
purity !  "iThy  word  is  very  pure,  saith  the  Psalmist,  there- 
fore thy  servant  loveth  it.  Under  this  notion  do  holy  ones 
take  pleasure  each  in  other;  because  they  see  somewhat  of 
the  Divine  likeness,  their  Father's  image,  in  one  another  : 
will  it  not  be  much  more  pleasing  to  find  it  each  one  per- 
fect in  himself?  to  feel  the  ease,  and  peace,  and  rest,  (hat 
naturally  goes  with  it  ?  A  man  that  hath  any  love  of  clean- 
liness, if  casually  plunged  into  the  mire,  he  knows  not 
what  to  do  with  himself,  he  fancies  his  own  clothes  to 
abhor  him ;  (as  ""Job  rhetorically  speaks ;)  so  doth  as  natural 
a  pleasure  attend  purity :  it  hath  it  even  in  itself  ^The 
words  of  the  pure  (saith  the  wise  man)  are  pleEisant  words ; 
words  of  pleasantnesses,  it  might  be  read.  That  pure 
breath  that  goes  from  him,  is  not  without  a  certain  pleasura- 
bleness  accompanying  it.  And  if  so  to  another,  much 
more  to  himself,  especially  when  everything  corresponds; 
and  (as  the  expression  is)  he  finds  himself  clean  throughout. 
5.  Liberty,  another  part  of  the  Divine  likeness,  wherein 
we  are  to  imitate  God,  cannot  but  be  an  unspeakable 
satisfaction.  Supposing  such  a  state  of  the  notion  of 
liberty  as  may  render  it  really  a  perfection ;  which  other- 
wise it  would  be  a  wickedness  to  impute  to  God,  and  an 
impossibility  to  partake  from  him.  I  here  speak  of  the 
moral  liberty  of  a  saint,  as  such ;  not  of  the  natural  liberty 
of  a  man,  as  a  man :  and  of  the  liberty  consummate  of 
saints  in  glory ;  not  of  the  inchoate,  imperfect  liberty  of 
saints  on  earth.  And  therefore  the  intricate  controversies 
about  the  liberty  of  the  human  will  lie  out  of  our  way, 
and  need  not  give  us  any  trouble.  'Tis  out  of  question 
that  this  liberty  consists  not  (whatever  may  be  said  of  any 
other)  in  an  equal  propension  to  good  or  evil ;  nor  in  the 
will's  independency  on  the  practical  understanding ;  nor 
in  a  various  uncertain  mutability,  or  inconstancy;  nor  is  it 
such  as  is  opposed  to  all  necessity  ;  'tis  not  a  liberty  from 
the  government  of  God,'  nor  from  a  determination  to  the 
simply  best  and  most  eligible  objects.  But  it  is  a  liberty 
from  the  servitude  of  sin,  from  the  seduction  of  a  mis- 
guided judgment,  and  the  allurement  of  any  insnaring 
forbidden  object;  consisting  in  an  abounded  amplitude 

q  Psal.  cxix.  HO.  r  Job  ix. 

s  Prov   XV.  26. 

t  Wliich  is  a  no  more  desirable  state  than  that  which,  I  remember,  the  histo- 
rian tells  us  was  the  condition  of  the  Annenians  ;  who  having  cast  off  the  go- 
vernment that  was  over  them,  became  Incerti,  soluliciue,  et  mngis  sine  Domino 
quam  in  lil'e-fate.    Tacit.  Ann.  t.  8. 


Chap.  VIII. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


217 


and  enlargedness  of  soul  towards  God,  and  indetemiination 
to  any  inferior  good:  resulting"  trom  an  entire  subjection 
to  the  Divine  will,  a  submission  to  the  order  ol  God,  and 
steady  adherence  to  him.  And  unto  which  the  many  de- 
scriptions and  elogies  agree  most  indisputably,  which  from 
sundry  authors  are  congested  together  by  Gibieuf,  in  that 
ingenious  tractate  of  liberty.  As  that,  He  is  free  that  lives 
as  he  will  (from  Cicero,  insisted  on  by  S.  Aug.  de  Civit. 
Dei,  lib.  14.  c.  25.) — i.  c.  who  neither  wishes  any  thing,  nor 
fears  any  thing  ;  who  in  all  things  acquiesces  in  the  will  of 
God;  who  minds  nothing  but  his  own  things,  and  accounts 
nothing  his  own  but  God;  who  favours  nothing  but  God; 
who  is  moved  only  by  the  will  of  God.  Again ;  He  is 
free,  that  cannot  be  hindered,  being  willing,  nor  forced, 
being  unwilling  (from  Epictetus) — i.  e.  who  hath  always  his 
will;  as  having  perfectly  subjected  it  to  the  will  of  God, 
as  the  same  author  explains  himself  Again  ;  He  is  free 
that  is  master  of  himself  (from  the  Civilians)  i.  e.  (as  that 
liberty  respects  the  spirit  of  a  man)  that  hath  a  mind  in- 
dependent on  any  thing  foreign  and  alien  to  himself  That 
only  follows  God  (from  Philo  Judceus ;)  That  lives  accord- 
ing to  his  own  reason  (from  Aristotle:)  with  many  more 
of  like  import ;  that  alone  does  fully  and  perfectly  suit  that 
state  of  liberty  the  blessed  soul  shall  hereafter  eternally 
enjoy  ;  as  that  author  often  acknowledges. 

This  is  the  glorious  liberty  of  the  children  of  God ;  the 
liberty  wherewith  the  Son  makes  free.  Liberty  indeed, 
measured  and  regulated  by  the  royal  law  of  liberty,  and 
which  is  perfected  only  in  a  perfect  conformitj'^  thereto. 
There  is  a  most  servile  "liberty,  a  being  yfree  from  right- 
eousness, which  under  that  specious  name  and  .show, 
2  enslaves  a  man  to  corruption :  and  there  is  as  free  a  ser- 
vice, by  which  a  man  is  still  the  more  free,  by  how  much 
the  more  he  serves,  and  is  subject  to  his  superior's  will, 
and  governing  influences;  and  by  how  much  the  less  pos- 
sible it  is  he  should  swerve  therefrom.*  The  nearest  aj> 
proaches  therefore  of  the  soul  to  God ;  its  most  intimate 
union  with  him,  and  entire  subjection  to  him  in  its  glorified 
state,  makes  its  liberty  consummate.  Now  is  its  deliverance 
complete,  its  bands  are  fallen  ofl';  'tis  perfectly  disentangled 
from  all  the  snares  of  death,  in  which  it  was  formerly 
held;  'tis  imder  no  restraints,  oppressed  by  no  weights, 
held  down  b}^  no  clogs ;  it  hath  free  exercise  of  all  its 
powers ;  hath  every  faculty  and  affection  at  command. 
How  unconceivable  a  pleasure  is  this!  With  what  delight 
d(ith  the  poor  prisoner  entertain  himself,  when  his  manacles 
and  fetters  are  knocked  off!  Avhen  he  is  enlarged  from  his 
loathsome  dungeon,  and  the  house  of  his  bondage  ;  breathes 
in  a  free  air ;  can  dispose  of  himself,  and  walk  at  liberty 
whither  he  will !  The  bird  escaped  from  his  cage,  or  freed 
from  his  line  and  stone,  that  resisted  its  vain  and  too  feeble 
stragglings  before;  how  pleasantly  doth  it  range!  with 
what  joy  doth  it  clap  its  M'ings,  and  take  its  flight !  A 
faint  emblem  of  the  joy,  wherewith  that  pleasant  cheerful 
note  shall  one  day  be  sung  and  chanted  forth.  C)nr  soul 
is  escaped,  as  a  bird  out  of  the  snare  of  the  foAvler ;  the 
.snare  is  broken  and  we  are  escaped.  There  is  now  no 
place  for  such  a  complaint,  I  would,  but  I  cannot ;  I 
would  turn  my  thoughts  to  glorious  objects,  but  I  cannot. 
The  blessed  soul  feels  itself  free  from  all  confinement: 
nothing  resists  its  will,  as  its  will  doth  never  resist  the 
will  of  God.  It  knows  no  limits,  no  restraints;  is  not 
tied  up  to  this  or  that  particular  good ;  but  expatiates 
freely  in  the  immen.se,  universal,  all-comprehending  good- 
ness of  God  himself  And  this  liberty  is  the  perfect  image 
and  likeness  of  the  liberty  of  God,  especially  in  its  con- 
summate state.  In  is  progress  towards  it,  it  increases  as 
the  soul  draws  nearer  to  God :  which  nearer  approach  is 

u  Lilierfas  nostra  non  e^t  sutyectio  ad  Deum  formalifer,  sed  amplitudo  con- 
Beqiiens  earn.     Gibieuf.  De  libcrt.  Dei  et  creatune.  lib.  1.  c.  32. 

X  ftuam  invexere  isibi,  adjuvant  sa-\ituleni.  Et  .sunt,  qiiodammodo,  propria 
Libertate  captivi.    Boeth.  ex  Gib.  Nectit  qua  valcattiuhi  catenam.  ?en.  Trag. 

y  Rom.  vi.  20.  z  2  Peter  ii 

a  Lil)erior  quo  divina;  gratise  subjectior.  Priinum  Libenim  arbitrium,  quod 
homini  datum  est,  quando  primum  creatus  est  rectus,  potuit  non  peccare  ;  sed 
potuit  et  peccare.  Hoc  antem  no\-i8simum  eo  potent  lus  eril,  quo  peccare  non 
potuit.    Aug.  de  Civ  itat.  Dei.  lib.  22  c.  30. 

b  Libertas  nostra  inhseret  di\infE.  utexemplari.  et  in  perpctua  ejus  imifatione 
versatur.  sive  ortum.  sive  progressum,  sivc  cinisunimatidnrni  <iu^  iiiliifaris . 
Liberta-s  nostra,  in  ortu,  est  capacitas  Dei  In  pmsressu.  Uhirlas  rr^  est  lon- 
geclarior:  progre.ssus  enim  attendiuir  penes  acoossum  homini.*  ad  Deum:  (|ni 
quid.-ni  non  locali  pn.pinquitate,  sed  iniitationo  et  a.s.iimiiati<ine  cons'iif ,  el  oa 
utinue  imitatione.  et  assiniilatione  sorundum  quam,  sicuf  Dens  est  sublimis.  ot 
cxcclsu*  scipso  i  italionio  c-tf  sublimis,  ct  cxctlsus  Doo,  ct  altitudo  ejus  Deiu 


not  in  respect  of  place  or  local  nearness,  but  likeness  and 
confoimity  to  him ;  in  respect  whereof,  as  God  is  most 
sublime  and  excellent  in  himself,  so  is  it  in  him.b  Its 
consummate  liberty  is,  when  it  is.^o  fully  transformed  into 
that  likeness  of  God,  as  that  he  is  all  to  it,  as  to  himself: 
so  that  as  he  is  an  infinite  satisfaction  to  himself;  his  like- 
ness in  this  resjject,  is  the  very  satisfaction  itself-  of  the 
blessed  soul. 

6.  Tranquillity.  This  also  is  an  eminent  part  of  that 
assimilation  to  God,  wherein  the  blessedness  of  the  holy 
soul  must  be  understood  to  lie :  a  perfect  composure,  a 
perpetual  and  everlasting  calm,  an  eternal  vacancy  from 
all  unquietness  or  perturbation.  Nothing  can  be  supf<f)sed 
more  inseparably  agreeing  to  the  nature  of  G<xl  ihan  this: 
whom  Scripture  witnesses  to  be  without  variableness  or 
shadow  of  change.  There  can  be  no  commotion  wi'hout 
mutation,  nor  can  the  least  mutation  have  place  in  a  per- 
fectly simple  and  uncompounded  nature:  whence  even 
pagan  reason  hath  been  wont  to  attribute  the  most  undis- 
turbed and  mialterable  tranquillity  to  the  nature  of  God. 
Balaam  knew  it  was  incompatible  to  him  to  lie,  or  repent. 
And  (supj)osing  him  to  .speak  this  from  a  present  inspira- 
tion) it  is  their  common  doctrine  concerning  God.  Any, 
ike  least  Irmibles  and  tempests,  saith  one.^  are  far  exiled 
from  the  tranquillity  of  God ;  for  all  the  inJuibitants  oj 
heaven  do  ever  enjoy  the  same  stable  tenovr,  crcn  an  elemal 
equality  of  mind.  And  a  little  after  speaking  of  God.  saith 
he,  "'Tis  neither  possible  he  should  be  moved  by  the  force 
of  another,  for  nothing  is  stronger  i  ban  God  ;  nor  of  his  own 
accord,  for  nothing  is  perfecter  than  God."  And  wherea.s 
there  is  somewhat  that  is  mutable  and  subject  to  change; 
somewhat  that  is  stable  and  fixed:  In  xrhich  of  those  na- 
tures, saith  another,d  sludl  we  j)larx  God?  riivsl  ve  not  in 
thalwhicJi  is  more  stable  and  fixed,  and  free  from  this  fiuid- 
ness  and  mvtability?  For  vha.t  is  there  among  all  beings, 
that  can  be  stable  or  consist,  if  God  do  not  by  his  own  touch 
stay  and  sustain  the  n-at-are  of  U  2 

Hence  it  is  made  a  piece  of  deformity,  of  likeness  to  God, 
by  another  who  tells  his  friend,"  It  isahigh  and  great  thing 
n-hick  thou  desirest,  and  even  bordermg  upon  a  Deity  :  iiot 
to  be  moved.  Yea  so  hath  this  doctrine  been  insisted  on 
b}'  them,  that  (while  other  Divine  perfections  have  been 
less  understood)  it  hath  occasioned  the  Stoical  assertion  of 
fatality  to  be  introduced  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  Epicurean 
negation  of  providence  on  the  other  ;  lest  any  thing  should 
be  admitted  that  might  seem  repugnant  to  the  tranquillity 
of  their  numina.  But  we  know  that  our  God  doth  what- 
soever pleaseth  him,  both  in  heaven  and  earth;  and  that 
he  doth  all  accoiding  to  the  wise  counsel  of  his  holy  will; 
freely,  not  fatally,  upon  the  eternal  provision  and  foresight 
of  all  circumstances  and  events ;  so  that  nothing  can  occur 
that  is  new  to  him,  nothing  that  he  knows  not  how  to  im- 
prove to  good;  or  that  can  therefore  infer  an3" alteration  of 
his  counsels,  or  occasion  to  him  the  least  perturbation  or 
disquiet  in  reference  to  them. 

Holy  souls  begin  herein  to  imitate  him,  as  soon  as  they 
first  give  themselves  up  to  his  wise  and  gracious  conduct. 
'Tis  enough  that  he  is  wise  for  himself  and  them.  Their 
hearts  safely  trust  in  him.  They  commit  themselves  with 
unsolicitous  confidence  to  his  guidance;  knowing  he  can- 
not himself  be  misled,  and  thai  he  will  not  mislead  ihem: 
as  Abraham  followed  him,  not  knowing  whither  he  went. 
And  thus,  by  faith,  they  enter  into  his  rest.  They  do  now 
in  their  present  state  only  enter  into  it,  or  hover  about  the 
borders:  their  future  assimilation  to  God  in  this,  gives 
them  a  stated  settlement  of  spirit  in  this  rest.  They  before 
did  owe  their  tranquillity  to  their  faith;  now  to  their  actual 
fruition.     Their  former  acquiescency,  and  sedate  temper, 

est,  ut  inquit  D.  Augustinus.  Consummatio  deniqne  liliertatis  est.  cum  honwi 
in  Deum.  lelicisfimo  gloria- ctplcstis  statu  transtbrnuitur;  et  Deus  onuiia  ille 
csseincipit.  Uu!  Muidem  postremus  status,  eo  ditiert  a  priore; — quipjie  lionn) 
turn  noil  nindo  in  illiiratus  est  crcatnris.  sed  iK-c  circa  illas  ncgotialur.  ctiam 
refcrondo  in  tiiiini— nor  in  crcatnris  se  infnndit.  nee  i«^r  illas  proceilit  ut  faeit4iat 
cnni  cssel  viator :  sed  in  solo  Deo.  et  con(|uip.scit  et  eftiindit  se  placn'if.sime-  et 
niotus  ejus,  cum  sit  ad  presentis-.inium  et  cunjunclissununi  Ixiiuun.  similior  ei=t 
quieti  quam  motui.     Gib.  I   2.  c.  14. 

c  Omnes  turbula-  temin^state^  qua-  procul  a  Deonmi  ccelestium  tranqiviutate 
exidant,  &c.    Apuleius de  Deo  Socrafis. 

il  _■£  -,)7(/),i  TO'i'  ipvptwv  TOVTutv  Tov  Btov  TaKTCOv  :  opit  ovK  ti' ^act- 
H(:irep'i  v'li  li'^iKnOuTCpa,  xai  anriWo}  jicvi}  TOV  pcvfiOTOS  tovtov,  4c.  Max. 
Tvr.  disser.  1. 

e  Quod  desidc-as  autem  magnum,  sunimiim  est.  Deocjue  vicnuun  ;  noa 
concuti.    Sen.  do  tranquil.  Animi. 


218 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


Chap  IX. 


was  hence,  that  they  believed  God  would  deal  well  with 
them  at  last;  their  present,  for  that  he  hath  done  so.  Those 
words  have  now  their  fullest  sense,  (both  as  to  the  rest 
itself  which  they  mention,  and  the  season  of  it,)  'Return 
to  thy  rest,  O  my  soul,  for  the  Lord  hath  dealt  bountifully 
with  thee.  The  occasions  of  trouble,  and  a  passive  temper 
of  spirit,  are  ceased  together.  There  is  now  no  fear  with- 
out, nor  terror  within.  The  rage  of  the  world  is  now  al- 
layed, it  storms  no  longer.  Reproach  and  persecution  have 
found  a  period.  There  is  no  more  dragging  before  tribu- 
nals, nor  haling  into  prisons ;  no  more  running  into  dens 
and  deserts ;  or  wandering  to  and  fro  in  sheepskins  and 
goatskins.  And  with  the  cessation  of  the  external  occa- 
sions of  trouble,  the  inward  dispositions  thereto  are  also 
reased.  All  infirmities  of  spirit,  tumultuating  passions, 
unmortified  corruptions,  doubts,  or  imperfect  knowledge 
:)i"  the  love  of  God,  are  altogether  vanished,  and  done 
away  for  ever.  And  indeed,  that  perfect  cure  wrought 
within,  is  the  soul's  great  security  from  all  future  dis- 
quiet. A  well  tempered  spirit  hath  been  wont  strangely  to 
pieserve  its  own  peace  in  this  unquiet  world.  Philosophy 
hath  boasted  mi:ch  in  this  kind ;  and  Christianity  per- 
formed more.  The  philosophical  (yaXrivri,  or)  calnmess  of 
mind,  is  not  without  its  excellency  and  praise :  "  That 
stable  settlement  and  fixedness  of  spirit,  that  aiOv/jin,  (as 
I f,e  moralists  tells  us,  it  was  wont  to  be  termed  among 
ttie  Gtecians,  and  which  he  calls  tranquillity,)  ■when  the 
mind  is  always  equal,  and  goes  a  smooth,  even  course,  is 
propitious  to  itself,  and  beholds  the  things  that  concern  it 
with  pleasure,  and  interi'upts  not  this  joy,  but  remains  in 
a  placid  state,  never  at  any  time  exalting  or  depressing 
itself."  But  how  far  doth  the  Christian  peace  surpass  it ! 
''  that  peace  which  passeth  all  understanding ;  that  amidst 
surrounding  dangers,  enables  'he  holy  soul  to  say,  (with- 
out a  proud  boast,)  'None  of  all  these  things  move  me: 
the  peace  that  immediately  residts  from  that  faith  which 
unites  the  soul  with  God,  and  fixes  it  upon  him  as  its  firm 
basis;  when 'lis  ''kept  in  perfect  peace,  by  being  stayed 
upon  him,  because  it  trusts  in  him ;  when  the  heart  is 
fixed,  trusting  in  the  Lord ;  filled  full  of  joy  and  peace, 
or  of  joyous  peace,  (by  an  in  dia  ivoTn,)  in  believing.  And 
if  philosophy  and  (which  far  transcends  it)  Christianity, 
reason  and  faith,  have  that  statique  power,  can  so  com- 
pose the  soul,  and  reduce  it  to  so  quiet  a  consistency  in 
the  midst  of  storms  and  tempests  ;  how  perfect  and  con- 
tentful a  repose,  will  the  immediate  vision  and  enjoyment 
of  God  afford  it,  in  that  serene  and  peaceful  region, 
where  it  shall  dwell  for  ever,  free  from  any  molestation 
from  without,  or  principle  of  disrest  w^ithin  ! 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Tiio  iiloasiirc  arising  from  knowing, or  consideiiiii?  ourselves  to  be  like  God  ;  from 
riiii-iiliriiiLMl.  1.  Absolutely,  2.  Comparatively,  or  respectively  ;  To  the  for- 
niiM  si. Ill'  of  the  soul,  To  the  state  ot  lost  souls.  To  its  pattern,  To  the  way 
of  aOLiMuitishinent,  To  the  soul's  own  expectations,  To  what  it  secures. 
The  pleasure  whereto  it  disposes,  of  union,  communion.  A  comparison  of 
tliis  righteousness,  with  tliis  blessedness. 

2.  Here  is  also  to  be  considered,  the  pleasure  and  satis- 
faction involved  in  this  assimilation  to  God,  as  it  is  known 
or  reflected  on,  or  that  arises  from  the  cognosci  of  this  like- 
ness. We  have  hitherto  discoursed  of  the  pleasure  of  being- 
like  God,  as  that  is  apprehended  by  a  spiritual  sensation, 
a  feeling  of  that  inward  rectitude,  that  happy  pleasure  of 
souls  now  perfectly  restored  :  we  have  yet  to  consider  a 
further  pleasure,  which  accrues  from  the  soul's  animadver- 
sion upon  itself,  its  contemplating  itself  thus  happily  trans- 
formed. And  though  that  very  sensation  be  not  without 
some  animadversion,  (as  indeed  no  sensible  perception  can 
be  performed  without  it,)  yet  we  must  conceive  a  consequent 
animadversion,  which  is  much  more  explicit  and  distinct ; 
and  which  therefore  yields  a  very  great  addition  of  satis- 
faction and  delight :  as  when  the  blessed  soul  shall  turn 
its  eye  upon  itself,  and  designedly  compose  and  set  itselt 
to  consider  its  present  state  and  frame;  the  consideration 
it  shall  now  have  of  itself,  and  this  likeness  impressed  upon 
it,  may  be  either— absolute,  or— comparative  and  respective. 


f  Psal.  cxvi.  7. 
i  Acts  XX.  24. 


g  Sen.  de  Tranquil.  Anini.  h  Phil.  iv.  7. 

K  Isa.  xx\i.  3.  Psal.  cxii.  7.  Rom.  xv.  13. 


1.  Absolute.  How  pleasing  a  spectacle  will  this  be, 
when  the  glorified  soul  shall  now  inientively  behold  its  own 
glorious  frame !  when  it  shall  dwell  in  the  contemplation 
of  itself!  view  itself  round  on  every  part,  turn  its  eye  from 
glory  to  glory,  trom  beauty  to  beauty,  from  one  excellency 
to  another  ;  and  trace  over  the  whole  draught  of  this  image, 
this  so  exquisite  piece  of  divine  workmanship,  drawn  out 
in  its  full  perfection  upon  itself !  when  the  glorified  eye, 
and  divinely  enlightened  and  inspirited  mind,  shall  apply 
itself  to  criticise,  and  make  a  judgment  upon  every  several 
lineament,  every  touch  and  stroke  ;  shall  stay  itself,  and 
scrupulously  insist  upon  every  part;  view  at  leisure  every 
character  of  glory  the  blessed  God  hath  instamped  upon  it; 
how  will  this  likeness  now  satisfy !  And  that  expression 
of  the  blessed  apostle,  (taken  notice  of  upon  some  other 
occasion  formerly,)  "the  glory  to  be  revealed  in  us,"  .seems 
to  import  in  it  a  reference  to  such  a  self-intuition.  What 
serves  revelation  for,  but  in  order  to  vision  1  what  is  it,  but 
an  exposing  things  to  view?  And  what  is  revealed  in  us, 
is  chiefly  exposed  to  our  own  view.  All  the  time,  from 
the  soul's  first  conversion  till  now,  God  hath  been  as  it 
were  at  work  upon  it,  ("  He  that  hath  wrought  us  to,  &c.) 
hath  been  labouring  it,  shaping  it,  polishing  it,  spreading 
his  own  glory  upon  it,  inlaying,  enamelling  it  with  glory : 
now  at  last,  the  whole  work  is  revealed,  the  curtain  is 
drawn  aside,  the  blessed  soul  awakes.  "  Come  now," 
saith  God,  "  behold  my  work,  see  what  I  have  done  upon 
thee,  let  my  work  now  see  the  light ;  I  dare  expose  it  to 
the  censure  of  the  most  curious  eye  ;  let  thine  own  have  the 
plea.sure  of  beholding  it."  It  was  a  work  carried  on  in  a 
mystery,  secretly  wrought  (as  in  the  lower  parts  of  the 
earth,  as  we  alluded  before)  by  a  spirit  that  came  and 
went  no  man  could  tell  how.  Besides,  that  in  the  general 
only,  we  knew  we  should  be  like  him,  it  did  not  yet  ap- 
pear what  we  should  be ;  now  it  appears  :  there  is  a  reve- 
lation of  this  glory.  O  the  ravishing  pleasure  of  its  first 
appearance !  And  it  will  be  a  glory  always  fresh  and 
flourishing,  (as  Job's  expression  is, "  my  glory  was  fresh  in 
me,")  and  will  afford  a  ft-esh,  undecaying  pleasure  for  ever. 

2.  The  blessed  soul  may  also  be  supposed  to  have  a 
comparative  and  respective  consideration  of  the  impressed 
glory.  That  is,  so  as  to  compare  it  with,  and  refer  il  to, 
several  things  that  may  come  into  consideration  with  it : 
and  may  so  heighten  its  own  delight  in  the  contemplation 
thereof 

1.  If  we  consider  this  impression  of  glory,  in  reference 
to  its  former  loathsome  deformities  that  were  upon  it,  and 
which  are  now  vanished  and  gone;  how  unconceivable  a 
pleasure  will  arise  from  this  comparison  !  When  the  soul 
shall  consider  at  once  what  it  is,  and  what  once  it  was, 
and  thus  bethink  itself:  I  that  did  sometimes  bear  the  ac- 
cursed image  of  the  prince  of  darkness,  do  now  represent 
and  partake  of  the  holy,  pure  nature  of  the  Father  of  lights : 
I  was  a  mere  chaos,  a  hideous  heap  of  deformity,  confu- 
sion, and  darkness,''  but  he  that  made  light  to  shine  out  of 
darkness,  shined  into  me,  to  give  the  knowledge  of  the 
light  of  his  own  glory  in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ ;  and 
since,  made  my''  way  as  the  shining  light,  shining  brighter 
and  brighter  unto  this  perfect  day.  I  was  a  habitation  for 
dragons,  a  cage  for  noisome  lusts,  that,  as  serpents  and 
vipers,  were  winding  to  and  fro  through  all  my  faculties 
and  powers,  and  preying  upon  my  very  vitals.  Then 
was  I  hateful  to  God,  and  a  hater  of  him ;  sin  and  vanily 
had  all  my  heart.  The  charming  invitations  and  allure- 
ments of  grace  were  as  music  to  a  dead  man ;  to  think  a 
serious  thought  of  God,  or  breathe  forth  an  affectionate 
desire  after  him,  was  as  much  against  my  heart,  as  to 
pluck  out  mine  own  eyes,  or  offer  violence  to  mine  own 
life.  After  I  began  to  live  the  spiritual,  new  life,  how  slow 
and  faint  was  my  progress  and  tendency  towards  perfec- 
tion !  how  indisposed  did  I  find  myself  to  the  proper  ac 
tions  of  that  life !  To  go  about  any  holy,  spiritual  work, 
was,  too  often,  as  to  climb  a  hill,  or  strive  against  the 
stream;  or  as  an  attempt  to  fly  without  wings.  I  have 
sometimes  said  to  my  heart.  Come,  now  let's  go  pray, 
love  God,  think  of  heaven;  but.O  how  listless  to  these 
things  !  how  lifeless  in  them !  Impressions  made,  how 
quickly  lost !  gracious  frames,  how  soon  wrought  off  and 


a  2  Cor.  V.  5. 
c  Prov.  iv.  18. 


b  2  Cor.  iv.  6. 


Chap.  IX. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


219 


gone !  characters  of  glory  razed  out,  and  overspread  with 
earth  and  dirt  1  Divine  comeliness  hath  now  at  length 
made  me  perfect :  the  glory  of  God  doth  now  inclothe  me ; 
they  are  his  ornaments  I  now  wear.  He  hath  made  me, 
that  lately  lay  among  the  pots,  as  the  wings  of  a  dove  co- 
vered with  silver,  and  her  feathers  with  yellow  gold ;  he 
hath  put  another  nature  into  me,  the  true  likeness  of  his 
own  holy  divine  nature ;  he  hath  now  perfectly  mastered 
and  wrought  out  the  enmity  of  my  heart  against  him :  now 
to  be  with  God  is  my  very  element ;  loving,  admiring, 
praising  him,  are  as  natural  as  breathing  once  was.  I  am 
all  spirit  and  life,  I  feel  myself  disburdened,  and  unclogged 
of  all  the  heavy,  oppressive  weights  that  hung  upon  me  ; 
no  body  of  death  doth  now  encumber  me,  no  deadness  of 
heart,  no  coldness  of  love,  no  drowsy  sloth,  no  averseness 
from  God,  no  earthly  mind,  no  sensual  inclinations  or 
affections,  no  sinful  divisions  of  heart  between  God  and 
creatures:  he  hath  now  the  whole  of  me :  I  enjoy  and 
delight  in  none  but  him :  O  blessed  change !  O  happy 
day  ! 

2.  If  in  contemplating  itself,  clothed  with  this  likeness. 
It  respect  the  state  of  damned  souls,  what  trani^ports  must 
that  occasion  !  what  ravishing  resentments  !  When  it  com- 
pares human  nature  in  its  highest  perfection,  with  the  same 
nature  in  its  utmost  depravation  ]  An  unspeakably  more 
unequal  comparison  than  that  would  be,  of  the  most  ami- 
able lovely  person,  flourishing  in  the  prime  of  youthful 
strength  and  beauty,  with  a  putrified  rotten  carcass,  de- 
formed by  the  corruption  of  a  loathsome  grave.  When  glo- 
rified spirits  shall  make  such  a  reflection  as  this:  Lo,  here 
we  shine  in  the  glorious  brightness  of  the  Divine  image  ; 
and  behold  yonder  deformed  accursed  souls  :  they  were  as 
capable  of  this  glory  as  we  ;  had  the  same  nature  with  us, 
the  same  reason,  the  same  intellectual  faculties  and 
powers;  but  what  monsters  are  they  now  become  !  They 
eternally  hate  the  eternal  excellency.  Sin  and  death  are 
finished"  upon  them.  They  have  each  of  them  a  hell  of 
horror  and  wickedness  in  itself.  Whence  is  this  amazing 
difference  1  Though  this  cannot  but  be  an  awful  wonder, 
it  cannot  also  but  be  tempered  with  pleasure  and  joy. 

3.  We  may  suppose  this  likeness  to  be  considered  in  re- 
ference to  its  pattern,  and  in  comparison  therewith  ;  which 
will  then  be  another  way  of  heightening  the  pleasure  that 
shall  arise  thence.  Such  a  frame  and  constitution  of  spirit 
is  full  of  delights  in  itself;  but  when  it  shall  be  referred  to 
its  original,  and  the  correspondency  between  the  one  and 
the  other  be  observed  and  viewed;  how  exactly  they  ac- 
cord, and  answer  each  other,  as  face  doth  face  in  the  wa- 
ter; this  cannot  still  but  add  pleasure  to  pleasure,  one  de- 
light to  another.  When  the  blessed  soul  shall  interchange- 
ably turn  its  eye  to  God,  and  it.self;  and  consider  the 
agreement  of  glory  to  glory;  the  several  derived  excel- 
lencies to  the  original:  He  is  wise,  and  so  am  I;  holy, 
and  so  am  I :  I  am  now  made  perfect  as  my  heavenly  Fa- 
ther is:  this  gives  a  new  relish  to  the  former  pleasure. 
How  will  this  likeness  please  under  that  notion,  as  it  is 
his;  a  likeness  to  him!  O  the  accent  that  will  be  put 
upon  those  appropriative  words,  to  be  made  partakers  of 
his  holiness,  and  of  the  Divine  nature  !  Personal  excel- 
lencies in  themselves  considered,  cannot  be  reflected  on, 
but  with  some  pleasure  ;  but  to  the  ingenuity  of  a  child, 
how  especially  grateful  will  it  be,  to  observe  in  itself  such 
and  such  graceful  deportments,  wherein  it  naturally  imi- 
tates Its  father!  So  he  was  wont  to  speak,  and  act,  and 
demean  himself.  How  natural  is  it  unto  love  to  affect  and 
aim  at  the  imitation  of  the  person  loved  !  So  natural  it 
must  be  to  take  complacency  therein-,  when  we  have  hit 
our  mark,  and  achieved  our  design.  The  pursuits  and  at- 
tainments of  love  are  proportionable  and  correspondent 
each  to  other.  And  what  heart  can  compass  the  greatness 
of  this  thought,  to  be  made  like  God  !  Lord,  was  there  no 
lower  pattern  than  thyself,  thy  glorious  blessed  self,  ac- 
cording to  which  to  form  a  worm !  This  cannot  want  its 
due  resentments  in  a  glorified  state. 

4.  This  transformation  of  the  blessed  soul  into  the  like- 
ness of  God,  may  be  viewed  by  it,  in  reference  to  the  way 
of  accomplishment;  as  an  end,  brought  about  by  so  ama- 
zing stupendous  means:  which  will  certainly  be  a  pleasing 
contemplation.  When  it  reflects  on  the  method  and  course 
d  Phil.  ii.  7.  e  2  Pet.  i.  4. 


insisted  on,  for  bringing  this  matter  to  pass ;  views  over 
the  work  of  redemption  in  its  tendency  to  this  end,  dthe 
restoring  God's  image  in  souls;  considersChrist manifest- 
ed to  us,  in  order  to  his  being  revealed  and  formed  in  us: 
that  God  was  made  in  the  likeness  of  man,  to  make  men 
after  the  likeness  of  God;  that  he  partook  with  us  of  the 
human  nature,  that  we  might  with  him  partake  of  the  di- 
vine ;  that  he  assumed  our  flesh,  in  order  to  impart  to  us 
his  Spirit :  when  it  shall  be  con.sidered,  for  this  end  had 
we  so  many  •'great  and  precious  promises;  for  this  end  did 
the  glory  of  the  fLord  shine  upon  us  through  the  glass  of 
the  gospel ;  that  we  might  be  made  partakers,  &c.  that  we 
might  be  changed,  &c.  Yea,  when  it  shall  be  called  to 
mind,  (though  it  be  far  from  following  hence,  that  this  is 
the  only  or  principal  way,  wherein  the  life  and  death  of 
Christ  have  influence,  in  order  to  our  eternal  happiness,) 
that  our  Lord  Jesus  lived  for  this  end,  that  we  might  learn 
so  to  walk,  as  he  also  walked  ;  that  he  died  that  we  might 
be  conformed  to  his  death  ;  that  he  rose  again  that  we 
might  with  him  attain  the  resurrection  of  the  dead  ;  that 
he  was  in  us  the  hope  of  glor>',  that  he  might  be  in  us  (that 
is,  the  same  image  that  bears  his  name)  our  final  consum- 
mate glory  itself  also:  with  what  pleasure  will  these  har- 
monious congruities,  these  apt  correspondencies,  be  looked 
into  at  last !  Now  may  the  glorified  saint  say,  I  here  see 
the  end  the  Lord  Jesus  came  into  the  world  for  ;  I  see  for 
what  he  was  lift  up,  made  a  spectacle  ;  that  he  might  be  a 
transforming  one:  what  the  effusions  of  his  Spirit  were 
for;  why  it  so  earnestly  strove  with  my  wayward  heart. 
I  now  behold  in  my  own  soul,  the  fruit  of  the  travail  cf 
his  soul.  This  was  the  project  of  re<leeming  love,  the  de- 
sign of  all-powerful  gospel-grace.  Glorious  achievement! 
blessed  end  of  that  great  and  notable  undertaking!  happy 
issue  of  that  high  design  ! 

5.  With  a  reference  to  all  their  own  expectations  and 
endeavours.  When  it  shall  be  considered  by  a  saint  in 
glory  ;  the  attainment  of  this  perfect  likeness  to  God,  was 
the  utmost  mark  of  all  my  designs  and  aims;  tli-e  term  of 
all  my  hopes  and  desires :  this  is  that  I  longed  and  laboured 
for;  that  which  I  prayed  and  waited  for  ;  which  I  so  ear- 
nestly breathed  after,  and  restlessly  pursued :  it  was  but  to 
recover  the  defaced  image  of  God ;  to  be  again  made  like 
him,  as  once  I  was.  Now  I  have  attained  my  end  ;  I  have 
the  fruit  of  all  my  labour  and  travails  ;  I  see  nowthe  truth 
of  those  (often)  encouraging  words,  blessed  aK  they  that 
hunger  and  thirst  after  righteousness,  for  they  shall  be 
filled.  Be  not  wearv  in  well-doing,  for  ye  shall  reap,  if 
ye  faint  not.  What  would  I  once  have  given  for  a  steady, 
abiding  frame  of  holiness,  for  a  heart  constantly  bent  and 
biassed  toward  God ;  constantlv  serious,  constantly  tender, 
lively,  watchful,  heavenly,  spiritual,  meek,  humble,  cheer- 
ful, self-denying!  How'have  I  cried  and  striven  for  this, 
to  get  such  a  heart !  such  a  temper  of  spirit!  How  have 
I  pleaded  with  God  and  my  own  soul,  in  order  hereto ! 
How  often  over  have  I  spread  this  desire  before  the 
Searcher  and  Judge  of  hearts!  Turn  me  out  of  all  my 
worldly  comforts,  so  thou  give  me  but  such  a  heart ;  let 
me  spend  my  davs  in  a  prison,  or  a  desert,  so  I  have  but 
such  a  heart ;  I  refuse  no  reproaches,  no  losses,  ne  tortures, 
may  I  but  have  such  a  heart.  How  hath  my  soul  bcea 
sometimes  ravished  with  the  very  thoughts  of  such  a  tem- 
per of  spirit,  as  hath  appeared  amiable  in  my  eye,  but  I 
could  not  attain!  and  what  a  torture  a?ain  hath  it  been 
that  I  could  not !  What  grievance  in  all  the  world,  in  all 
the  days  of  mv  vanitv,  did  I  ever  find  comparable  to  this  ; 
to  be  able  to  tVame  to  myself  by  Scripture,  and  rational 
light  and  rules,  the  notion  and  idea  of  an  excellent  temper 
of  spirit ;  and  then  to  behold  it,  to  have  it  in  view,  and  not 
be  able  to  reach  it,  to  possess  my  soul  of  it  ?  What  indig- 
nation have  I  sometimes  conceived  against  mine  own  soul, 
when  I  have  found  it  wandering,  and  could  not  reduce  ii; 
hoverins,  and  conld  not  fix  it ;  dead,  and  could  not  quicken 
it;  low,  and  could  not  raise  it  !  How  earnestly  have  I  ex- 
pected this  blessed  dav,  when  all  those  distempers  should 
be  perfectly  healed,  and  mvsoul  recover  a  healihv.  lively, 
spiritual  frame  !  What  fresh  ebullitions  of  joy  will  here  be. 
when  all  former  desires,  hopes,  endeavours,  are  crowned 
with  success  and  fruit!'  This  joy  is  the  joy  of  harvest 
?They  that  have  sown  in  tears,  do  now  reap  in  joy.  They 
f  2  Cor.  iii.  IS.  ?  P^a'-  ''"^  ^- 


220 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


Chap.  IX. 


that  went  out  weeping,  bearing  precious  seed ;  now  with 
rejoicing,  bring  their  sheaves  with  them. 

6.  In  reference  to  what  this  impressed  likeness  shall  for 
ever  secure  to  it :  an  everlasting  amity  and  friendship  with 
God;  that  it  shall  never  sin,  nor  he  ever  frown  more. — 
1.  That  it  shall  sin  no  more.  The  perfected  image  of  God 
in  it,  is  its  security  for  this ;  for  'tis  holy  throughout ;  in 
every  point  conformed  to  his  nature  and  will ;  there  re- 
mains in  it  nothing  contrary  to  him.  It  may  therefore  cer- 
tainly conclude,  it  shall  never  be  liable  to  the  danger  of 
doing  any  thing,  but  what  is  good  in  his  sight :  and  what 
solace  will  the  blessed  soul  find  in  this !  If  now  an  angel 
from  heaven  should  assure  it,  that  from  such  an  hour  it 
shall  sin  no  more,  the  world  would  not  be  big  enough  to  hold 
.such  a  soul.  It  hath  now  escaped  the  deadliest  of  dangers, 
the  worst  of  deaths,  (and  which  even  in  its  present  state, 
upon  more  deliberate  calmer  thoughts,  it  accounts  so,)  the 
sting  of  death,  the  very  deadliness  of  death ;  the  hell  of 
hell  itself.  The  deliverance  is  now  complete,  which  can- 
not but  end  in  delight  and  praise.— 2.  That  God  can  never 
frown  more.  This  'tis  hence  also  assured  of.  How  can 
he  but  take  perfect,  everlasting  complacency  in  his  own 
perfect  likeness  and  image;  and  behold  with  pleasure  his 
glorious  workmanship,  now  never  liable  to  impairment  or 
decay !  How  pleasant  a  thought  is  this,  "  The  blessed  God 
never  beholds  me  but  with  delight !  I  shall  always  behold 
his  serene  countenance,  his  amiable  face  never  covered 
with  any  clouds,  never  darkened  with  any  frown  !  I  shall 
now  have  cause  to  complain  no  more;  My  God  is  a  stran- 
ger to  me,  he  conceals  himself,  I  cannot  see  his  face  ;  lo, 
he  is  encompassed  with  clouds  and  darkness,  or  with 
flames  and  terrors."  These  occasions  are  for  ever  ceased. 
God  sees  no  cause,  either  to  behold  the  blessed  soul  with 
displeasure,  or  with  displeasure  to  avert  from  it,  and  turn 
oft"  his  eye.  And  will  not  this  eternally  satisfy  ]  When 
God  himself  is  so  well  pleased,  shall  not  we  "? 

3.  The  pleasure  it  disposes  to.  Besides  that  the  in-be- 
ing and  knowledge  of  this  likeness  are  so  satisfying;  it 
disposes,  and  is  the  soul's  qualification  for  a  yet  further 
pleasure : — that  of  closest  union,  and  most  inward  commu- 
nion with  the  blessed  God. 

1.  Union  :  which  (what  it  is  more  than  relation)  is  not 
till  now  complete.  Besides  relation  it  must  needs  import 
presence :  not  physical,  or  local ;  for  so  nothing  can  be 
nearer  God  than  it  is  :  but  moral  and  cordial,  by  which 
the  holy  soul  with  will  and  affections,  guided  by  rectified 
reason  and  judgment,  closes  with,  and  embraces  him;  and 
he  also  upon  wise  forelaid  counsel,  and  with  infinite  de- 
light and  love,  embraces  it :  so  friends  are  said  to  be  one 
(besides  their  relation  as  friends)  by  a  union  of  hearts.  A 
union  between  God  and  the  creature,  as  to  kind  and  na- 
ture higher  than  this,  and  lower  than  hypostatical  or  per- 
sonal union,  I  understand  not,  and  therefore  say  nothing 
ofit.h 

But  as  to  the  union  here  mentioned:  as,  till  the  image 
of  God  be  perfected,  it  is  not  completed  ;  so  it  cannot  but 
be  perfect  then.  When  the  soul  is  perfectly  formed  ac- 
cording to  God's  own  heart,  and  fully  participates  the  Di- 
vine likeness,  is  perfectly  like  him  ;  that  likeness  cannot 
but  infer  the  most  intimate  imion  that  two  such  natures 
can  admit :  that  is,  (for  nature,)  a  love  union  ;  such  as  that 
which  our  Saviour  mentions,  and  prays  to  the  Father  to 
perfect,  between  themselves  and  all  believers,  and  among 
believers  mutually  with  one  another.  Many  much  trouble 
themselves  about  this:  scripture  ;  but  sure  that  can  be  no 
other  than  a  love-union.  For,  (1.)  'Tis  such  a  union  as 
Christians  are  capable  of  among  themselves  ;  for  surely 
he  would  never  pray  that  they  might  be  one  with  a  union 
whereof  they  are  not  capable.  (2.)  'Tis  such  a  union  as 
may  be  made  visible  to  the  world.  Whence  'tis  an  obvious 
corollary,  that  the  union  between  the  Father  and  the  Son, 
there  spoken  of  as  the  pattern  of  this,  is  not  their  union  or 
oneness  in  essence,  (though  it  be  a  most  acknowledged 
thing  that  there  is  such  an  essential  union  between  them;) 
for,  who  can  conceive  that  saints  should  be  one  among 
themselves,  and  with  the  Father  and  the  Son,  with  such 
a  union  as  the  Father  and  the  Son  are  one  themselves,  if 
the  essential   union  between   Father  and  Son  were  the 

h  1  would  fnin  knowwiiat  tlie  Tertiimt  shall  be,  resuhing  from  the  physical 
union,  some  speak  of. 


union  here  spoken  of:  but  the  exemplary  or  pattern  union, 
here  meniioned  between  the  Father  and  Son,  is  but  a  union 
in  mind,  in  love,  in  design,  and  interest;  wherein  he 
prays,  that  saints  on  earth  might  visibly  be  one  with  them 
also,  that  the  world  might  believe,  &c.  'Tis  yet  a  rich  plea- 
sure that  springs  up  to  glorified  saints  from  that  love-union 
(now  perfected)  between  the  blessed  God  and  them.  'Tis 
mentioned  and  shadowed  in  Scripture,  under  the  name 
and  notion  of  marriage-union  ;  in  which  the  greatest  mu- 
tual complacency  is  always  supposed  a  necessary  ingredi- 
ent. To  be  thus  joined  to  the  kLord,  and  made  as  it  were 
one  spirit  with  him;  for  the  eternal  God  to  cleave  in  love 
to  a  nothing-creature,  as  his  likeness  upon  it  engages  him 
to  do  ;  is  this  no  pleasure,  or  a  mean  one  1 

2:  Communion  :  unto  which  that  union  is  fundamentaJ, 
and  introductive  ;  and  which  follows  it  upon  the  same 
ground,  from  a  natural  propensity  of  like  lo  like.  There  is 
nothing  now  to  hinder  God  and  the  holy  soul  of  the  most  in- 
ward fruitions  and  enjoyments ;  no  animosity,  no  strange- 
ness, no  unsuitableness  on  either  part.  Here  the  glorified 
spirits  of  the  just  have  libert)'-  to  solace  themselves  amidst 
the  rivers  of  pleasure  at  God's  own  right  hand,  without 
check  or  restraint.  They  are  pure,  and  these  pure.  They 
touch  nothing  that  can  defile,  they  defile  nothing  they  can 
touch.  They  are  not  now  forbidden  the  nearest  ap- 
proaches to  the  once  inaccessible  Majesty ;  there  is  no  holy 
of  holies  into  which  they  may  not  enter,  no  door  locked 
up  against  them.  They  may  have  free  admission  into  the 
innermost  secret  of  the  Divine  presence,  and  pour  forth 
themselves  in  the  most  liberal  eflfusions  of  love  and  joy :  as 
they  must  be  the  eternal  subject  of  those  infinitely  richer 
communications  from  God,  even  of  immense  and  bound- 
less love  and  goodness.  Do  not  debase  this  pleasure  by 
low  thoughts,  nor  frame  too  daring,  positive  apprehen- 
sions of  it.  'Tis  yet  a  secret  to  us.  The  eternal  converses 
of  the  King  of  glory  with  glorified  spirits,  are  only  known 
to  himself  and  them.  Tliat  expression,  (which  we  so  often 
meet  in  our  way,)  "  It  doth  not  yet  appear  what  we  shall 
be,"  seems  left  on  purpose  to  check  a  too  curious  and 
prying  inquisitiveness  into  these  unrevealed  things.  The 
great  God  will  have  his  reserves  of  glory,  of  love,  of  plea- 
sure for  that  future  state.  Let  him  alone  awhile,  with  those 
who  are  already  received  into  those  mansions  of  glory, 
those  everlasting  habitations  :  he  will  find  a  time  for  those 
that  are  yet  pilgrims  and  wandering  exiles,  to  ascend  and 
enter  too.  In  the  mean  time,"  what  we  know  of  this  com- 
munion may  be  gathered  up  into  this  general  account,  the 
reciprocation  of  loves ;  the  flowing  and  reflowing  of  ever- 
lasting love,  between  the  blessed  soul  and  its  infinitely 
blessed  God;  its  egress  towards  him,  his  illapses  into  it. 
Unto  such  pleasure  doth  this  likeness  dispose  and  qualify: 
you  can  no  way  consider  it,  but  it  appears  a  most  pleasur- 
able, satisfying  thing. 

Thus  far  have  we  shown  the  qualification  for  this  bles- 
sedness, and  the  nature  of  it;  What  it  prerequires,  and 
wherein  it  lies  :  and  how  highly  congruous  it  is,  that  the 
former  of  these  should  be  made  a  prerequisite  to  the  latter, 
will  sufficiently  appear  to  any  one  that  shall,  in  his  own 
thoughts,  compare  this  righteousness  and  this  blessedness 
together.  He  will  indeed  plainly  see,  that  the  natural  .state 
of  the  case  and  habitude  of  these,  each  to  other,  make  this 
connexion  unalterable  and  eternal;  so  as  that  it  must 
needs  be  simply  impossible,  to  be  thus  blessed  without  be- 
ing thus  righteous.  For  what  is  this  righteousness  other 
than  this  blessedness  begun,  the  seed  and  piinciple  of  it"? 
And  that  with  as  exact  proportion  (or  rather  sameness  of 
nature)  as  is  between  the  grain  sown  and  reaped  ;  which 
is  more  than  intimated  in  that  of  the  apostle, i  Be  not  de- 
ceived, God  is  not  mocked  ;  for  whatsoever  a  man  soweth, 
that  shall  he  also  reap :  for  he  that  soweth  to  his  flesh, 
shall  of  the  flesh  reap  corruption  ;  (there  is  the  same  pro- 
portion too  ;)  but  he  that  soweth  to  the  Spirit,  shall  of  the 
Spirit  reap  life  everlasting  :  which  though  it  be  spoken  to 
a  particular  case,  is  yet  spoken  from  a  general  rule  and 
rea.son  applicable  a  great  deal  further.  And  as  some  con- 
ceive (and  is  undertaken  to  be  demonstrated)  that  the  seeds 
of  things  are  not  virtually  only,  but  ^actually  and  formal- 
ly, the  very  things  themselves;  so  is  it  here  also.  The  very 


i  Jnhnxvii.  21,  vor.  11.  21. 
1  Gill.  vi.  7,  3. 


k  1  Cw.  vi.  16. 
m  Dr.  Haw.  de  Ovo. 


Chap.  X. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


221 


parts  of  this  blessedness  are  discernible  in  this  righteous- 
ness, the  future  vision  of  God  in  present  knowledge  of 
him:  for  this  knowledge  is  a  real  initial  part  of  righteous- 
ness; the  rectitude  of  the  mind  and  aj)prehensions  con 
earning  God,  consisting  in  conformity  to  liis  revelation  of 
himself.  Present  holiness,  including  also  the  future  assi- 
milation to  God:  and  the  contentment  and  peace  that  at- 
tends it,  the  consequent  satisfaction  in  glory.  But  as  in 
glory,  the  impression  of  the  Divine  likenes.-s  is  that  which 
vision  subserves,  and  whence  satisfaction  results  ;  so  is  it 
here  (visibly)  the  main  thing  also.  The  end  and  design  of 
the  gospel  revelation,  "  of  whole  Christianity,  (I  mean 
systematically  considered,)  of  all  evangelical  doctrines  and 
knowledge,  is  to  restore  God's  likeness  and  image ;  from 
whence  joy  and  peace  result  of  course,  when  once  the 
gospel  is  believed.  The  gospel  is  the  instrument  of  im- 
pressing God's  likeness,  in  order  whereunto  it  must  be 
understood,  and  received  into  the  mind.  Being  so,  the 
impression  upon  the  heart  and  life  are  Christianity,  habi- 
tual and  practical,  whereupon  joy  and  pleasure  (the  belief 
or  thorough  reception  of  the  gospel  thus  intervening)  do 
necessarily  ensue,  Rom.  xv.  13.  So  aptly  is  the  only  way 
or  method  of  seeing  God's  face,  so  as  to  be  satisfied  with 
his  likeness,  said  to  be  in  or  through  righteousness. 


CHAPTER   X. 


The  season  of  this  satisfaction,  wliich  is  twofold ;  at  death  and  at  the  re- 
surrection. The  former  spoken  too;  wherein  is  shown,  That  this  life  is 
to  the  soul  (even  of  a  saint)  but  as  a  sleep  :  That  at  death  it  awakes.  As 
to  the  latter ;  Tliat  there  is  a  considerable  accession  to  its  happiness  at  the 
resurrection. 

3.  The  season  of  this  blessedness  comes  next  to  be  con- 
sidered; which  (as  the  words,  "when  I  awake,"  have 
been  concluded  here  to  import)  must,  in  the  general,  be 
stated,  beyond  the  time  of  this  present  life.  Holy  souls 
are  here  truly  blessed,  not  perfectly ;  or  their  present  bless- 
edness is  perfect  only  in  nature  and  kind,  not  in  degree. 
'Tis,  in  this  respect,  as  far  short  of  perfection  as  their  holi- 
ness is.  Their  hunger  and  thirst  are  present,  their  being 
filled  is  yet  future.  The  experience  of  saints  in  their  best 
state  on  earth,  their  desires,  their  hopes,  their  sighs  and 
groans,  do  sufficiently  witness  they  are  not  satisfied  ;  or  if 
they  be  in  point  of  security,  they  are  not  in  point  of  enjoy- 
ment. The  completion  of  this  blessedness  is  reserved  to 
a  better  state,  as  its  being  the  end  of  their  way,*  their  rest 
from  their  labours,  the  reward  of  their  work,  doth  import 
and  require.  Therefore  many  scriptures  that  speak  of  their 
present  rest,  peace,  repose,  satisfaction,  must  be  understood 
in  a  comparative,  not  the  absolute  highest  sense.  More  par- 
ticularly, in  that  other  state,  the  season  of  their  blessedness 
is  twofold ;  or  ihere  are  two  terms  from  whence  (in  respect 
of  some  gradual  or  modal  diversifications)  it  may  be  said 
severally  to  commence,  or  bear  date,  r?ir. — The  time  of  their 
entrance  upon  a  blessed  immortalitj'^,  when  they  shall  have 
laid  down  their  earthly  bodies  in  death ;  and — of  their  con- 
summation therein,  when  they  receive  their  bodies  glorified 
in  the  general  resurrection.  Both  these  may  not  unfitly 
be  signified  by  the  phrase  in  the  text,  "  when  I  awake:" 
for,  though  Scripture  doth  more  directly  apply  the  term 
of  awakmg  to  the  latter,  there  will  be  no  violence  done  to 
the  metaphor,  if  we  extend  its  signification  to  the  former 
also.  To  which  purpose  it  is  to  be  noted,  that  it  is  not 
death  formally,  or  ihedisanimatingof  thebody,  we  would 
have  here  to  be  understood  by  it,  (which  indeed  sleeping 
would  more  aptly  signify  than  awaking,)  but,  what  is  co- 
incident therewith  in  the  same  period,  the  exuscitation, 
and  revival  of  the  soul.  When  the  body  falls  asleep,  then 
doth  the  spirit  awake  ;  and  the  eye-lids  of  the  morning, 
even  of  an  eternal  day,  do  now  first  open  upon  it. 

1.  Therefore  v,'e  shall  not  exclude  from  this  season  the 
introductive  state  of  blessedness,  which  takes  its  beginning 
from  the  blessed  soul's  first  entrance  into  the  invisible 
stale.  And  the  fitness  of  admitting  it  will  appear  by  clearing 

n  U<o{  ovv  yivoucBa  xaO  njioiMoiv;  ta  T<t)v  enay}c\ion',  Ti  rsT'  \pi~iiii'- 
iiTftoi  :  R'lv  nuoihiatf  :  Kara  ro  eiihxniisuon  ai/Opdnrov  ij>voci.  Greg.  Nyss. 
in  vertia  Faciamus  hominein,  &c.  Orat.  l. 

a  Matt.  V.  6.  b  1  Thess.  v.  6.    Eph.  v.  U. 


these  two  things, — 1.  That  its  condition  in  this  life,  even 
at  the  best,  is  in  some  sort  but  a  sleep:  2.  That  when  it 
passes  out  of  it  into  the  invisible  regions,  'tis  truly  said  to 
awake. 

1.  Its  abode  in  this  mortal  body,  is  but  a  continual  sleep ; 
its  senses  are  bound  up;  a  drowsy  slumber  posses.'-es  and 
suspends  all  its  faculties  and  powers.  Before  the  reno- 
vating change,  how  frequently  doth  the  Scripture  speak 
of  sinners  as  men  asleep!  bLet  not  us  sleep  a.s  do  oihers. 
Awake  thou  that  sleepest,  and  stand  up  from  the  dead,  &c. 
They  are  in  a  dead  sleep,  under  the  sleep  of  death:  they 
apprehend  things  a.s  men  asleep.  How  slight,  obscure, 
hovering  notions  have  they  of  the  most  momentous  things ! 
and  which  it  most  concerns  them  to  have  thorough  real 
apprehensions  of!  All  their  thoughts  of  God,  Christ,  hea- 
ven, hell,  of  sin,  of  holiness,  are  but  uncertain,  wild  gues.scs, 
blind  hallucination.s.  incoherent  fancies  ;  the  absurdity 
and  inconcinnity  whereof,  they  no  more  reflect  upon  than 
men  asleep.  They  know  not  these  things,  but  only  dream 
of  them.  They  put  darkness  for  light,  and  light  for  dark- 
ness; have  no  senses  exercised  to  discern  between  good 
and  evil.  The  mo.st  substantial  realities  are  with  them 
mere  shadows,  and  chimeras ;  fancied  and  imagined  dan- 
gers startle  them,  (as  'tis  wont  to  be  with  men  in  a  dream,) 
real  ones,  though  never  so  near  them,  they  as  little  fear 
as  they.  The  creature  of  their  own  imagination,  the  lion 
in  the"  way,  which  they  dream  of  in  their  slothful  slumber, 
aff'rights  them;  but  the  real  roaring  lion  that  is  ready  to 
devour  ihem,  they  are  not  afraid  of 

And  conversion  doth  but  relax,  and  intermit;  it  doth 
not  totally  break  off  this  sleep:  it,  as  it  were,  attenuates 
the  consopiting  fumes,  doth  not  utterly  dispel  them.  What 
a  difficulty  is  it  to  watch  but  one  hour!  There  are  some 
lucid  and  vivid  intervals,  but  of  how  short  continuance  ! 
how  soon  doth  the  awakened  soul  close  its  heavy  eyes  and 
falls  asleep  again !  how  often  do  temptations  surprise  even 
such,  in  their  slumbering  fits,  while  no  sense  of  their  dan- 
ger can  prevail  with  them  to  w'atch  and  pray  (with  due 
care  and  constancy)  lest  they  enter  thereunto!  -^Hitherare 
most  of  the  sins  of  our  lives  to  be  imputed  and  relerred  ; 
not  to  mere  ignorance,  that  we  know  not  sin  from  duty,  or 
what  will  please  God  and  what  displease  him  ;  but  to  a 
drowsy  inadvertency,  that  we  keep  not  our  spirits  in  a 
watchful  considering  posture.  Our  eyes  that  should  be 
ever  towards  the  Lord,  will  not  be  kept  open,  and  though 
w^e  resolve,  we  forget  ourselves  ;  before  we  are  aware,  we 
find  ourselves  overtaken ;  sleep  comes  on  upon  us  like  an 
armed  man,  and  we  cannot  avert  it.  How  often  do  we 
hear,  and  read,  and  prav,  and  meditate  as  persons  asleep, 
as  if  we  knew  not  what  we  were  about?  How  remarkable 
useful  providences  escape  either  our  notice  or  due  improve- 
ment, amidst  our  secure  slumbers!  How  many  visits  from 
heaven  are  lost  to  us,  when  we  are  a-s  it  were,  between 
sleeping  and  waking  !'i  I  sleep,  but  my  heart  waketh,  and 
hardly  own  the  voice  that  calls  upon  us,  till  our  beloved 
hath  withdrawn  himself  1  Indeed,  what  is  the  whole  of 
our  life  but  a  dream"?  the  entire  scene  of  this  sensible  world 
but  a  vision  of  the  night ;  where  every  man-^  walks  but  in 
a  vain  show  1  Where  we  are  mocked  with  shadows,  and 
our  credulous  sense  abused  by  impostures  and  delusive 
appearances  "?  Nor  are  we  ever  secure  from  the  most  de- 
structive, mischievous  deception,  further  than  as  our  souls 
are  possessed  with  the  apprehensions,  that  this  is  the  very 
truth  of  our  case ;  and  thence  instructed  to  consider,  and 
not  to  prefer  the  shadows  of  time  before  the  great  realities 
of  eterniiy. 

Nor  is  this  sleep  casual,  but  even  connatural  to  our  pre- 
sent state,  the  necessarv  result  of  so  strict  a  union  and 
commerce  with  the  bodv,  which  is  to  the  in-dwelling  spirit 
as  a  dormitory  or  charnel-house  rather  than  a  mansion.  A 
soul  drenched  in  sensualitv,)  a  Lethe  that  hath  too  little  of 
fiction  in  it,  and  immured  "in  a  slothful,  putrid  flesh,  ^jeeps 
as  it  were  by  fate,  not  by  chance,  and  is  only  capable  of 
full  relief  by  sufterinir  a  dissolution  ;  which  it  hath  reason 
to  welcome' as  a  jubilee,  and  in  the  instant  of  departure  to 
sacrifice  as  he  did,   f  (with   that   ea^y   and   warrantable 

c  So  well  doth  the  apostle's  watch-word  suit  our  case.  Awake  to  riffhteous- 
no^s.  and  sin  not,  &c.   1  Cor.  xv.  34  ,         •     , 

d  ran'   V  2  e  Psal.  xxnx.  «. 

f  V7-.  Seneca.  Wlw  at  the  time  of  liis  Ut  ath  sprinkled  water  upon  the  ser- 


932 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


Chap.  X. 


change,  to  make  a  heathen  expression  scriptural,)  Jehoi-a. 
libcratori,  to  adore  and  praise  its  great  Deliverer:  at  least 
(accounts  being  once  made  up,  and  a  meetness  in  any  mea- 
sure attained  for  the  heavenly  inheritance,  &c.)  hath  no 
reason  to  regret  or  dread  the  approaches  of  the  eternal 
day,  more  than  we  do  the  return  of  the  sun  after  a  dark 
and  longsome  night.  But  as  the  sluggard  doth  nothing 
more  unwillingly  than  forsake  his  bed,  nor  bears  any  thing 
with  more  regret  than  to  be  awaked  out  of  his  sweet  sleep, 
though  you  should  entice  him  with  the  pleasures  of  a  pa- 
radise to  quit  a  smoky,  loathsome  cottage ;  so  fares  it  with 
a  sluggish  soul,  as  if  it  were  lodged  in  an  enchanted  bed : 
'tis  so  fast  held  by  the  charms  of  the  body,  all  the  glory  of 
the  other  world  is  little  enough  to  tempt  it  out,  than  which 
there  is  not  a  more  deplorable  symptom  of  this  sluggish, 
slumbering  state.  So  deep  an  oblivion  (which  you  know 
is  also  naturally  incident  to  sleep)  hath  seized  it  of  its  own 
country,  of  its  alliances  above,  its  relation  to  the  Father 
and  world  of  spirits,  it  takes  this  earth  for  its  home,  where 
'tis  both  in  exile  and  captivity  at  once :  and  (as  a  prince 
stolen  away  in  his  infancy  and  bred  up  in  a  beggar's  shed) 
so  little  seeks,  that  it  declines  a  better  state.  This  is  the 
degenerous,  torpid  disposition  of  a  soul  lost  in  flesh,  and 
inwrapt  in  stupifying  clay,  which  hath  been  deeply  resented 
by  some  heathens.  So  one  brings  in  Socrates  pathetically 
bewailing  this  oblivious  dreaming  temper  of  his  soul, 
"  which  (saith  he)  had  seen  that  pulchritude  (you  must 
pardon  him  here  the  conceit  of  its  pre-existence)  that  nei- 
ther human  voice  could  utter,  nor  eye  behold  ;  but  that 
now,  in  this  life,  it  had  only  some  little  remembrance 
thereof,  as  in  a  dream ;  being  both  in  respect  of  place  and 
condition,  far  removed  from  so  pleasant  sights,  pressed 
down  into  an  earthly  station,  and  there  encompassed  with 
all  manner  of  dirt  and  filthiness,  &c.  And  to  the  same 
purpose  Plato  often  speaks  in  the  name  of  the  same  person, 
and  particularly  of  the  winged  slate  of  the  good  soul? 
when  apart  from  the  body,  carried  in  its  triumphant  flying 
chariot,  (of  which  he  gives  a  large  description,  somewhat 
resembling  Solomon's  rapturous  metaphor, ii  "  Before  I 
was  aware,  my  soul  made  me  as  the  chariots  of  Ammina- 
dab ;")  but  being  in  the  body,  'tis  with  it  as  with  a  bird  that 
hath  lost  its  wings,  it  falls  a  sluggish  weight  to  the  earth. 
Which  indeed  is  the  state  even  of  the  best,  in  a  degree, 
within  this  tabernacle.  A  sleepy  torpor  stops  their  flight ; 
they  can  fall,  but  not  ascend  ;  the  remains  of  such  drow- 
siness do  still  hang  even  about  saints  themselves.  The 
apostle  therefore  calls  upon  such  toi  awake  out  of  sleep  ; 
from  that  consideration,  (as  we  know  men  are  not  wont  to 
sleep  so  intensely  towards  morning,)  that  now  their  salva- 
tion was  nearer  than  when  they  believed,  i.  e.  (as  some 

vants  about  him,  addita  voce,  se  Uqnorem  ilium  libare  Jovi  lijjeratori.  Tacit 
Aniial. 

e  TT-repiOjia.  In  Ph«dro.  h  Cant,  vi   13.  i  Rom.  xiii.  11. 

k  Aretius,  Beza,  &c.         IPsal  xxx.  5.       m  In  his  Saint's  Rest.  p.  2,  c  10. 

n  Luke  xxiii.  43.  o  2  Cor.  v.  8.  p  Phil.  i.  23.  q  Heb.  xii  23. 

r  'Tis  true,  that  divers  of  the  fathers  and  others  have  spoken,  some  dubiously, 
Bome  very  diminishingly,  of  the  blessedness  of  separate  .souls  ;  many  of  whose 
word.s  may  be  seen  together  in  that  elaborate  tractate  of  the  learned  Parker, 
De  Descena.  1  secund.  p.  77  Yea,  and  his  own  assertion  in  that  very  page  (be 
it  spoken  with  reverence  to  the  memory  of  so  worthy  a  person)  argues  some- 
thing gross,  and  I  conceive,  unwarrantable  tlwjughts  of  the  soul's  dependence 
on  a  body  of  earth.  His  words  are  Tertium  viilnim.  (speaking  of  tlie  preju- 
dices the  soul  receives  by  its  separation  ftoui  the  budy.)  onmes  operationes 
etiam  svoji,  outE^untprasertiinad  extra,  extingiiit.  Wliere  he  makes  it  a 
difliculty  to  allow  it  any  operations  at  all,  as  appears  by  the  prasertim  insert- 
ed. He  first  indeed  denies  it  all  operations,  and  then,  more  confidently  and 
especially,  those  ad  extra.  And  if  he  would  be  understood  to  exclude  it  only 
from  its  operations  ad  extra,  (if  he  takes  operations  ad  extra  as  that  phrase  is 
wont  to  l)e  taken,)  he  must  then  mean  by  it  all  such  operations  as  have  their 
objects,  not  only  those  that  have  their  terms  to  which  without  the  agent,  i.  e.  not 
only  all  transient,  but  all  imminent,  acts  that  have  their  objects  without  them. 
As  when  we  say,  all  God's  acts  ad  ^xtra  are  free  :  we  nn-an  it  even  of  his  im- 
manent acts  that  have  their  objects  without  him.  llviiifli  they  do  not  ponere 
tenninum  extra  Deum;  as  his  election,  hi.^  Icivi"  of  llie  elect  And  so  he 
must  be  understood  to  deny  the  separate  snuN  (and  Ibiit  with  a  pra-^ei-tim  too) 
the  operations  ofknowing  God,  of  loving  him.  anddilieliting  in  him  ;  which  are 
all  operations  ad  extra,  as  having  their  objects  extra  animmn,  though  their 
terminus  ad  quern  be  not  so :  which  makes  the  condition  of  the  separate  souls 
of  saints  unspeakably  inferior  to  what  it  was  in  the  body,  and  what  should 
occasion  so  dismal  thoughts  of  that  state  of  separation.  I  see  not.  Scripture 
gives  no  ground  for  them,  but  evidently  enoughspeaks  Ihe  contrary.  Reason 
and  philosophy  offer  nothing  that  can  render  the  sense  we  put  upon  the  afore- 
mentioned plain  scripture,  self-contradictious  or  impossible.  Yea,  such  as 
had  no  other  light  or  guide,  have  thought  the  facility  of  the  soul's  operations, 
being  separate  from  its  earthly  body,  much  greater  by  that  very  separation. 
And  upon  this  score  doth  St.  Augustine,  with  great  indignation,  inveigh  against 
the  philosophers,  (Plato  more  especially.)  because  they  judged  the  separation 
of  the  soul  from  the  body  necessary  to  its  lili'^^i-dnoss.  Qid  rideUcet  ejusper- 
feetam  beatitudinem  tunc  illi  Jleri  e.rlnlhtwiit  cxni  nnnti  prornis  corpore 
exuta,  ad  Dctim  simplex,  etsola  etr/'irylinnimKln  iimln  rlJierit,  (De  civif  Dei. 
1.  13  c  16. )unto  which  purpose  the  words  ot  PbilolausPythagoricus.of  Plato.of 
Porphyrius,  are  cited  by  Ludovicus  Vives,  in  his  comment  upon  that  above-men- 


judicious  interpretersk  understand  that  place,)  for  that 
they  were  nearer  death  and  eternity  than  when  they  first 
became  Christians;  though  this  passage  be  also  otherwise, 
and  not  improbably,  interpreted.     However, 

2.  The  holy  soul's  release  and  dismission  from  its  earth- 
ly body,  which  is  that  we  propounded  next  to  be  con- 
sidered, will  excuss  and  shake  off  this  drowsy  sleep.  Now 
is  the  happy  season  of  its  awaking  into  the  heavenly,  vital 
light  of  God;  the  blessed  morning  of  that  long  desired  day 
is  now  dawned  upon  it,  the  cumbersome  night-vail  is  laid 
aside,  and  the  garments  of  salvation  and  immortal  glory 
are  now  put  on.  It  hath  passed  through  the  trouble 
and  darkness  of  a  wearisome  night,  and  now  is  joy  arrived 
wiih  the  morning,  as  we  may  be  permitted  to  allude  to 
those  words  of  the  i  Psalmist,  though  that  be  not  supposed 
to  be  the  peculiar  sense.  I  conceive  myself  here  not  con- 
cerned operously  to  insist  in  proving,  that  the  souls  of 
saints  sleep  not  in  the  interval  between  death  and  the  ge- 
neral resurrection,  but  enjoy  present  blessedness.  It  being 
besides  the  design  of  a  practical  discourse,  which  rather  in- 
tends the  propounding  and  improvement  of  things  acknow- 
ledged and  agreed,  for  the  advantage  and  benefit  of  them 
wiih  whom  they  are  so,  than  the  discussing  of  things  du- 
bious and  controversible.  And  what  I  here  propound  in 
order  to  a  consequent  improvement  and  application,  should, 
methinks,  pass  for  an  acknowledged  truth  among  them  that 
professedly  believe,  and  seriously  read  and  consider,  the 
Bible ;  (for  mere  philosophers  that  do  not  come  into  this 
account,  'twere  impertinent  to  discourse  with  them  from  a 
text  of  Scripture  ;)  and  where  my  design  only  obliges  me 
to  intend  the  handling  of  that,  and  to  deliver  from  it  what 
may  fitly  be  supposed  to  have  its  ground  there,  unless 
their  allegations  did  carry  with  them  the  show  of  demon- 
strating the  simple  impossibility  of  what  is  asserted  thence 
to  the  power  of  that  God  whose  word  we  take  it  to  be ; 
which  I  have  not  found  any  thing  thej'  say  to  amount  to. 
That  we  have  reason  to  presume  it  an  acknowledged  thing, 
among  them  that  will  be  concluded  by  Scripture,  That  the 
soul  (ioth  not  sleep  when  it  ceases  to  animate  its  earthly 
body,  many  plain  texts  do  evince,  which  are  amassed  to- 
gether by  the  reverend  Mr.  Baxter  ;">  some  of  the  princi- 
pal whereof  I  would  invite  any  that  waver  in  this  matter 
seriously  to  consider:  as  the  words  of  our  Saviour  to  the 
thief  on  the  cross,"  This  day  shalt  thou  be  with  me  in  pa- 
radise. That  of  the  apostle,"  we  are  Willing  rather  to  be 
absent  from  the  body,  and  present  with  the  Lord.  And 
that,P  I  am  in  a  strait,  having  a  desire  to  depart,  and  to  be 
with  Christ.  That  passage,<)  The  spirits  of  just  men 
made  perfect,  &c.  Which  are  expressions  so  clear,  that  it 
is  hard  for  an  industrious  caviller  to  find  what  to"'  except 

lioned  passage.  The  first  speaking  t\ms—Deposito  corpore  kominem  Deum  rm- 
mortalemfieri.  Thesecond  Mwis—Trahinos  a  corpore  ad  iwa,et  a  cogitatiorte 
superarum  rerwn  subinde  revocari:  ideo  relin/iuendiiin  corpus,  et  hicquan- 
twm  pnssuwus  et  in  altera  vitaprorsum,  ut  libcri  et  expediti,  vervtn  ipsi 
videamus  et  optimum  amemiis.  The  third  denies— AUteryi.eri  beatv-m  quen- 
qiiani  posse,  nisi  relinqvat  corpits  et  affigatitr  Deo.  I  conceive  it  by  tho 
way  not  improbable,  that  the  severity  of  that  pious  father  against  the  dogma  of 
the  philosophers,  tnight  proceed  upon  this  ground,  that  what  they  said  of  the 
impossibiliiv  nf  liring  happy  in  an  earthly  body,  he  unders'ood  meant  by  them 
of  an-inip(nsilijlity  to  be  happy  in  any  body  at  all ;  when  'tis  endently  the  com- 
mon opinion  of  the  Pl.atonists,  that  the  soul  is  always  united  with  some  body 
or  other,  and  that  even  the  daemons  have  bodies,  (aerial  or  sEtherial  ones,)  which 
Plato  himself  is  observed  by  St.  Augustine  to  affirm,  whenre  he  would  fasten  a 
contradiction  on  him.  ibid  not  considering  ('tis  likely)  that  he  would  much 
less  have  made  a  difficulty,  to  concede  such  bodies  also  to  human  souls  after 
they  had  lost  their  terrestrial  ones,  as  liis  sectatots  do  not  ;  who  hold  they 
tlien  presently  become  daemons  In  the  meantime  'tis  evident  enough,  the 
doctrine  of  the  separate  soul's  present  blessedness,  is  not  destitute  of  the  patron- 
age and  suffi-aee  of  philosophers.  And  'tis  indeed  the  known  opinion  of  as  ma- 
ny of  them  as  ever  held  its  immortality,  (which  all  of  all  ages  and  nations  have 
done,  a  very  few  excepted.)  for  inasmuch  as  they  knew  notliingof  the  resurrec- 
tion of  the  body,  they  could  not  dream  of  a  sleeping  intenal.  And  'tis  at  least 
a  shrewd  presumption,  that  nothing  in  reason  lies  against  it,  when  no  one  in- 
stance can  he  given,  among  them  tliat  professedly  gave  up  themselves  to  its 
onlv  guidance,  of  any  one,  that  granting  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  and  its 
separableness  from  its  terre.strial  body,  ever  denied  the  immediate  blessednes.? 
of  good  souls  in  that  state  of  separation.  Nor  (if  we  look  into  the  thing  itselt) 
is  it  at  all  more  unapprehensible  that  the  soul  should  be  independent  on  the  body 
in  its  operations  than  in  its  existence.  If  it  be  possible  enough  to  form  an  un- 
exceptionable notion  of  a  spiritual  being  distinct  and  sef.arable  from  any  cor- 
poreal substance,  (which  the  learned  Doctor  More  hath  sufficiently  demon- 
strated in  his  treatise  of  the  Immortality  of  the  Soul,)  with  its  prmier  attributes, 
and  powers  peculiar  to  itself:  what  can  reasonablji  withhold  me  from  asserting, 
that  being  separate  from  the  body,  it  may  as  well  operate  alone,  (I  mean  exert 
such  operations  as  are  proper  to  such  a  being.)  as  exist  alone?  That  we  find  it 
here  de  facto,  in  its  present  state,  acting  only  with  dependence  on  aboily.  will 
no  more  infer,  that  it  can  act  no  otherwise,  than  its  present  existence  in  a  body 
will  tlutt  it  can  never  e_xist  out  of  it.  neither  whereof  amounts  to  more  than  the 
trifliiiL'PMiloded  argument  «  woness*' ad  «»n  posse,  and  would  be  as  good  sense 
as  to  sav.  .-^nch  a  rme  walks  in  his  clothes,  therefore  out  ofthem  he  cannot  move  a 
foot  Yea.  and  the  very  use  itself  which  the  soul  nowmakesof  corporeal  organs 
I  and  instruments,  plainly  evidences,  that  it  doth  exert  some  action  wherein  they 


Chap.  X. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OP  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


223 


to  them;  and,  indeed,  the  very  exceptions  that  are  put  in, 
arc  so  frivolous  lliat  they  carry  a  plain  confession  there  is 
nothing  colourable  to  be  said.  Yea,  and  most  evident  it 
is  from  those  texts,  not  only  that  holy  souls  sleep  not,  in 
that  state  of  separation ;  but  that  they  are  awaked  i)y  it, 
(as  out  of  a  former  sleep,)  into  a  much  more  lively  and 
vigorous  activity  than  they  enjoyed  befoie;  and  translated 
into  a  state  as  much  better  than  their  former,  as  the  tor- 
tures of  a  cross  are  more  ungrateful  than  the  pleasures 
of  a  paradise;  these  joys  fuller  of  vitality,  than  those  sick- 
ly dying  faintings  ;  as  the  immediate  presence  and  close 
embraces  of  the  Lord  of  life,  are  more  delectable  than  a 
niournlbl  disconsolate  absence  from  him,  (which  the  apos- 
tle therefore  tells  us  he  desired  as  far  better,  and  with  an 
emphasis  which  our  English  too  faintly  expresses:  for  he 
uses  a  double  comparative,  ttoXAu  fiaXXov  Kptiaaoi — by  mvch 
more  better ;)  and,  as  a  perfected,  i.  e.  a  crowned  triumph- 
ant spirit,  that  hath  attained  the  end  of  its  race,  (as  the 
words  import  in  the  agonistical  ^  notion,)  is  now  in  a  more 
vivid  joyous  state,  than  when,  lately,  toiling  in  a  tiresome 
way,  it  languished  under  many  imperfections.  And  it  is 
observable,  that  in  the  three  former  scriptures,  that  phrase, 
of  being  with  Christ,  or,  being  present  with  him,  is  the 
same  which  is  used  by  the  apostle,  (1  Thess.  iv.  17.)  to 
express  the  state  of  blessedness  after  the  resurrection ;  in- 
timating plainly,  the  sameness  of  the  blessedness  before 
and  after.  And  though  this  phrase  be  also  used  to  signify 
the  present  enjoyment  saints  have  of  God's  gracious  pre- 
sence in  this  life ;  which  is  also  in  nature  and  kind  the 
same;  yet  it  is  plainly  used  in  these  scriptures  (the  two 
latter  more  especially)  to  set  out  to  us  such  a  degree  of 
that  blessedness,  that  in  comparison  thereof,  our  present 
being  with  Christ  is  a  not-being  with  him  ;  our  presence 
with  him  now,  an  absence  from  him:  While  we  are  at 
home  in  the  body,  we  are  absent  from  the  Lord,  and,  I  am 
in  a  .strait  betwixt  two,  desiring  to  depart,  (or  having  a  de- 
sire unto  dissolution,)  and  to  be  with  Christ,  &c.  How 
strangely  mistaken  and  disappointed  had  the  blessed  apos- 
tle been,  had  his  absence  from  the  body,  his  dissolution, 
his  release,  set  him  further  oil"  from  Christ,  or  made  him 
less  capable  of  converse  with  him,  than  before  he  was  ! 
And  how  absurd  would  it  be  to  say,  the  spirits  of  the  just 
are  perfected,  by  being  cast  into  a  stupifying  sleep;  yea, 
or  being  put  into  any  state,  not  better  than  they  were  in 
before  !  But  their  stale  is  evidently  far  better.  The  body 
of  death  is  now  laid  aside,  and  the  weights  of  .sin,  that  did 
so  easily  beset,  are  shaken  off  ^  flesh  and  sin  are  laid  down 
together;  the  soul  is  rid  of  its  burthensome  bands  and 
shackles,  hath  quitted  its  filthy  darksome  prison,  (the  usual 
place  of  laziness  and  sloth,)  is  come  forth  of  its  drowsy 
dormitory,  and  the  glory  of  God  is  risen  upon  it.  'Tis 
now  come  into  the  world  of  realities,  where  things  appear 
as  they  are,  no  longer  as  in  a  dream,  or  vision  of  the 
night.  The  vital  quickening  beams  of  Divine  light  are 
darting  in  upon  it  on  every  side,  and  turning  it  into 
their  own  likeness.  The  shadows  of  the  evening  are  va- 
nished, and  fled  away.  It  converses  with  no  objects  but 
what  are  full  themselves,  and  most  apt  to  replenish  it  with 
energy  and  life.     This  cannot  be  but  a  joyful  awaking,  a 

assist  it  not.  For  it  supposes  an  nprration  upon  tlii>ni  antpceilcnt  to  any  opor- 
ation  by  them.  Nothing  can  beth'-  in^triiMimt  wliich  ii  tk.I  first  tlip  sulji-ct  of 
my  action  ;  as  when  I  use  a  pen.  I  m-i  iinim  it  in  order  to  inv  aelion  hv  it,  L  f. 
I  impress  a  motion  upon  it,  in  order  wliereiiiito  I  u.*e  nnl  that  or  any  oiiii  r  such 
instrument ;  and  though  I  cannot  proilircethe  designed  efi'eot. leave  such  charac- 
t<>re  so  and  so  figured,  without  it ;  my  hand  can  yet.  without  it,  perform  its  own 
action,  proper  to  itself,  and  produce  many  nobler  effects  When,  therefore,  the 
soul  makes  use  of  a  bodily  organ,  its  action  upon  it  mivst  needs  at  last  tie  with- 
out tlie  ministry  of  any  organ,  unless  you  multiply  to  it  body  upon  body  '"  hit!- 
nitinm.  And  if,  possibly,  it  perform  not  some  meaner  and  grosser  pieces  of 
drudgery  when  out  of  the  liody,  wherein  it  made  iL«e  of  its  help  and  service  be- 
fore; that  is  no  more  a  disparagement  or  diminution,  than  it  is  to  the  magis- 
trate, that  law  and  decency  permit  him  not  to  apprehenil  or  execute  a  male- 
factor with  his  own  liand.  It  may  yet  perform  those  operations  which  are  pro- 
per to  itself:  that  is.  such  as  are  more  noble  and  excellent,  and  immediately  con- 
ducive to  its  own  felicity.  Which  sort  of  actions,  as  cogitation  for  instance, 
and  dilection,  though  being  done  in  the  body,  there  is  conjunct  w  itli  them  an  agi- 
tation of  the  sjiirits  in  the  brain  and  heart  :  it  yet  seems'  to  me  more  reasona- 
ble, that  as  tn  those  acts,  the  spirits  are  rather  subjects  than  instruments  at  all 
of  tliem  ;  that  the  whole  essence  of  these  acts  is  antecedent  to  the  motion  of 
the  spints  ;  and  that  motion  cert.ainly  (but  accidentallv)  conseoucnt,  only  by 
reason  of  the  present,  but  soluble,  imion  the  soul  hath  with  the  body  And  that 
the  purity  and  refinedness  of  those  spirits  doth  only  remove  what  would  hinder 
such  acts,  rather  than  contribute  posit iveJy  thereto.  And  so  little  is  ttie  alliance 
between  a  thought,  and  any  bodily  tiling,  even  those  very  finest  snirits  tliiio- 
8clves  :  that  I  dare  say  whoev.->r  s.'ts  himself  closely  and  strictly  to  consi- 
der and  debate  the  matter  with  his  own  faeid'ies  will  find  it  much  mor.'  easily 
apprchoHiiible  how  the  acts  of  intelleclionand  volition  may  be  t>erfonne(l  \miIi- 


blesscd  season  of  satisi"action  and  delight  indeed,  to  the 
enlightened,  revived  soul.     But, 

II.  It  must  be  acknowledged,  the  further  and  rore  emi- 
nent season  of  this  blessedness  will  be  the  general  resur- 
rection day,  which  is  more  expressly  signified  in  Scripture 
by  this  term  of  av-aking ;  as  is  manifest  in  many  plain 
texts,  t  where  'tis  either  expressly  thus  used,  or  implied  to 
have  this  meaning  in  the  opposite  sen.se  of  the  word  sleep. 
What  additions  shall  then  be  made  to  the  saints  blessed- 
ness, lies  more  remote  from  our  apprehension ;  inasmuch 
as  Scripture  states  not  the  degree  of  that  blessedness 
which  shall  intervene.  We  know,  by  a  too  sad  instructive 
experience,  the  calamities  of  our  present  state,  and  can 
therefore  more  easi'y  conceive,  wherein  it  is  capable  of 
betterment,  by  the  deposition  of  a  sluggish,  cumbersome 
body,  where  those  calamities  mostly  have  their  spring: 
but  then  we  know  less  where  to  fix  our  foot,  or  whence 
to  take  our  rise,  in  estimating  the  additional  felicities  of 
that  future  state,  when  both  the  states  to  be  compared  are 
so  unknown  to  us.  But  that  there  will  be  great  additions 
is  plain  enough.  The  full  recompense  of  obedience  and 
devotedness  to  Christ,  of  foregoing  all  for  him,  is  affixed 
by  his  promise  to  the  resurrection  of  the  just ;  The  judg- 
ment-day gives  every  one  his  portion  according  to  his 
works.  Then  must  the  holy,  obedient  christian  hear  from 
his  Redeemer's  mouth,  Come  ye  blessed  of  the  father,  in- 
herit the  kingdom,  &c.  Till  then  the  devils  think  their 
torment  to  be  before  their  time.  'Tis  when  he  shall  appear 
we  shall  be  like  him,  and  see  him  as  he  is.  That  noted 
day  is  the  day  of  being  presented  faultless  with  exceeding 
joy.  And  divers  things  there  are  obviously  enough  to  be 
reflected  on,  which  cannot  but  be  understood  to  contribute 
much  to  the  increase  and  improvement  of  this  mchoate 
blessedness.  The  acquisition  of  a  glorified  body.  For 
our  vile  bodies  shall  be  so  far  transfigured,  as  to  be  made 
like  "  [conform  toj  the  glorious  bodyof  the  Saviour,  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ :  and  this  shall  be  when  he  shall 
appear  from  heaven,  where  saints  here  below  are  required 
to  have  their  commerce,  as  the  enfranchised  citizens  there- 
of, and  from  whence  they  are  to  continue  looking  for  him 
in  the  meantime.  When  he  terminates  and  puts  a  period 
to  that  expectation  of  his  saints  on  earth,  then  shall  that 
great  change  he  made,  i.  e.  when  he  actually  appears,  at 
which  time  the  trumpet  sounds,  »  and  even  .sleeping  dust 
itself  awakes;  the  hallowed  dust  of  them  that  slept  in 
Jesus  first,  who  are  then  to  come  with  him.  This  change 
may  well  be  conceived  to  add  considerably  to  their  felici- 
ty. A  natural  congruity  and  appetite  is  now  answered 
and  satisfied,  which  did  either  lie  dormant,  or  was  under 
somewhat  an  anxious  restless  expectation  before;  neither 
of  which  could  well  consist  with  a  state  of  blessedness, 
every  way  already  perfect.  And  that  there  is  a  real  de- 
sire and  expectation  of  this  t^hange,  seems  to  be  plainly  in- 
timated in  those  words  of  Job,  y  All  the  daj's  of  my  ap- 
pointed time  will  I  wait  till  my  change  come ;  where  he 
must  rather  be  understood  to  speak  of  the  resurrection 
than  of  death ;  (as  his  words  are  commonly  mistaken,  and 
mi.sapplied;)  as  will  appear  by  setting  down  the  context 
from  the  seventh  verse,  for  there  is  hope  of  a  tree,  if  it  be 

out  those  very  corporeal  spirits  than  by  IJiem.  However.  euppo.»e  them  never 
so  indisi>ensably  necessarj-  to  those  more  noble  operations  of  the  soul,  it  may 
easily  be  furnished  with  Ihi-m.  and  in  ereater  pleiitv  and  puritv,  fKim  the  am- 
bient air,  <or  a-ther.)  than  from  a  dull,  torpid  body  ;  with  some  part  of  which 
air,  if  we  simpose  if  to  contract  a  vital  union.  I  know  no  rational  principle  that 
is  wronged  by  the  supposition,  thrii-h  neither  do  I  know  any  that  c-nn  neces- 
sarily infer  i'.  As  therefore  the  doctrine  of  the  sou!'-  actintyoul  of  this  earth- 
ly body,  hath  fn\  our  and  friinil-hip  enouch  from  philosoiiliers  :  so  I  doubt  not, 
but  upon  the  nio-t  strict  niiii  ridd  disquisition,  it  would  be  as  much  befViendcd 
(orr,atlier  ru-'lit.ili  by  pliil<.s,ii.ln  itself;  and  that  tlu-ir  reason  would  afford  it 
as  ilirect.  .and  riiore  cnnsi.lerabli'  defence,  than  their  authority. 

In  the  meantime,  it  deserves  to  l)e  considered  with  siune  resentment,  that 
this  doctrine  should  find  the  generali'y  of  learned  p,icans  more  fii'-ward  advo- 
cates than  some  learned  and  worthy  patrons  of  the  Christian  faith  :  wlu'ch 
is  only  imputable  to  the  imdue  measure  and  e.wess  of  an  otherwise  jn.st  zeal, 
in  these  latter,  tor  the  resurrection  of  the  b<idy  ;  so  far  transnortinc  them,  that 
they  became  willing  to  let  so  one  truth,  that  they  mieht  hold  anotWr  the  fast- 
er ;  and  to  r.ansom  this  at  the  too  dear  (and  unnecessary)  expense  of  tlie  tor* 
mer:  accountiu!;,  they  could  ne\er  make  sun^enoushlhervsurrrction  ofthelKxiy, 
without  makiru  tlie  soul's  dependance  on  it  so  alisotutc  and  necessar>-,  that  it 
should  be  able  to  do  nothing-  but  sli>ep  in  tjie  meanwhile.  Whereas  it  seems  a 
gn^at  deal  mon'  unconcei'  able,  how  such  a  being  as  the  -oul  is,  once  auit  of  the 
entanglements  and  encumbrances  of  the  body,  should  sleep  at  all,  than  how  it 
should  act  without  th.-  body. 

s  .-^f)!'  Dr   Hammond's  Annot  in  loc. 

t  nan.  xii.  a.  John  xiv.  12.  2  Cor.  xv.  -2  Thess.  iv.  &c. 

ti  M  '"oyajiaTicsi,  tTvuuooiior.    Phil   iii.  30,  01. 

.X  1  Tlie-ss   iv.  14,  15,  16.  y  Chap.  xiv.  H. 


224 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


Ciup.  XI. 


cut  down,  that  it  will  sprout  again,  and  that  the  tender 
branch  thereof  will  not  cease.  Though  the  root  thereof 
wax  old  in  the  earth,  and  the  slock  thereof  die  in  the 
ground:  yet  through  the  scent  of  water,  it  will  bud  and 
bring  forth  boughs  like  a  plant.  But  man  dieth  and  was- 
teth  away  ;  yea,  man  giveth  up  the  ghost,  and  Avhere  is  he  1 
As  the  waters  fail  from  the  sea,  and  the  flood  decayeth,  and 
drieth  up ;  so  man  lieth  down,  and  raiseth  not  till  the  hea- 
vens be  no  more :  they  shall  not  be  awakened  nor  raised 
out  of  their  sleep.  O  that  thou  wouldst  hide  me  in  the 
grave,  that  thou  wouldestkeep  me  secret  till  thy  wrath  be 
past,  that  thou  wouldest  appoint  me  a  set  time,  and  remem- 
ber me !  If  a  man  die,  shall  he  live  again  ?  All  the  days 
of  my  appointed  time  will  I  wait  tilt  my  change  come. 
Thou  shalt  call,  and  I  will  ansM'er  thee  ;  thou  wilt  have  a 
desire  to  the  work  of  thy  hands.  He  first  speaks  accord- 
ing to  common  apprehension,  and  sensible  appearance, 
touching  the  hopeless  state  of  man  in  death ;  as  though  it 
were  less  capable  of  reparation  than  that  of  some  inferior 
creatures,  unto  the  end  of  ver.  JO.  And  then  gradually 
discovers  his  better  hope ;  betrays  this  faith,  as  it  were, 
obliquely,  touching  this  point;  lets  it  break  out,  first,  in 
some  obscure  glimmerings,  (ver.  II,  12.)  giving  us,  in  his 
protasis,  a  similitude  not  fully  expressive  of  his  seeming 
meaning,  for  waters  and  floods  that  fail  may  be  renewed  ; 
and  in  his  apodosis  more  openly  intimating,  man's  sleep 
should  be  only  till  the  heavens  were  no  more :  which  till 
might  be  supposed  to  signify  never,  were  it  not  for  what 
follows,  ver.  13,  where  he  expressly  speaks  his  confidence 
by  way  of  petition,  that  at  a  set  and  appointed  time,  God 
would  remember  him,  so  as  to  recall  him  out  of  the  grave : 
and  at  last,  being  now  minded  to  speak  out  more  fully,  puts 
the  question  to  himself.  If  a  man  die,  shall  he  live  again  1 
and  answers  it,  All  the  days  of  my  appointed  time,  i.  e. 
of  that  appointed  time  which  he  mentioned  before,  when 
God  should  revive  him  out  of  the  dust,  will  I  wait  till 
ray  change  come ;  i.  e.  that  glorious  change,  when  the  cor- 
ruption of  a  loathsome  grave  should  be  exchanged  for 
immortal  glory;  which  he  amplifies,  and  utters  more 
expressly,  ver.  15.  Thou  shalt  call,  and  I  will  answer; 
thou  shalt  have  a  desire  to  the  work  of  thy  hands  :  Thou 
wilt  not  always  forget  to  restore  and  perfect  thy  own  crea- 
ture. 

And  surely  that  waiting  is  not  the  act  of  his  inanimate 
sleeping  dust ;  but  though  it  be  spoken  of  the  person 
totally  gone  into  hades,  into  the  invisible  state,  'fis  to  be 
understood  of  that  part  that  should  be  capable  of  such  an 
action  ;  q.  d.  I,  in  that  part  that  shall  be  still  alive,  shall 
patiently  await  thy  appointed  time  of  reviving  me  in  that 
part  also,  which  death  and  the  grave  shall  insult  over  (in 
a  temporary  triumph)  in  the  meantime  ;  and  so  will  the 
words  carry  a  facile  commodious  sense,  without  the  unne- 
cessary help  of  an  imagined  rhetorical  scheme  of  speech. 
And  then,  that  this  waiting  carries  in  it  a  desirous  expec- 
tation of  some  additional  good,  is  evident  at  first  sight ; 
which  therefore  must  needs  add  to  the  satisfaction  and  bless- 
edness of  the  expecting  soul.  And  wherein  it  may  do 
so,  is  notaltogether  unapprehensible.  Admit,  that  a  spirit, 
had  it  never  been  embodied,  might  be  as  well  without  a 
body,  or  that  it  might  be  as  well  provided  of  a  body  out 
of  other  materials ;  'tis  no  unreasonable  supposition,  that 
a  connate  aptitude  to  a  body,  should  render  human  souls 
more  happy  in  a  body  sufficiently  attempered  to  their  most 
noble  operations.  And  how  much  doth  relation  and  pro- 
priety endear  things,  otherwise  mean  and  inconsiderable  1 
Or  why  should  it  be  thought  strange,  that  a  soul  connatu- 
ralized  to  matter,  should  be  more  particularly  inclined  to  a 
particular  portion  thereof?  so  as  that  it  should  appropri- 
ate such  a  part,  and  say  'tis  mine  1  And  will  it  not  be  a 
pleasure,  to  have  a  vitality  difflised  through  what  even 
more  remotely  appertains  to  me,  to  have  every  thing  be- 
longing to  the  suppositvvi  perfectly  vindicated  from  the 
tyrannous  dominion  of  death"?  The  returning  of  the  spi- 
rits into  a  benumbed  or  sleeping  toe  or  finger,  adds  a  con- 
tentment to  a  man  which  he  wanted  before.  Nor  is  it 
hence  necessary  the  soul  should  covet  a  re-union  with 
every  effluvious  particle  of  its  former  body:  a  desire  im- 
planted by  God  in  a  reasonable  soul  will  aim  at  what  is 
convenient,  not  what  shall  be  cumbersome  or  monstrous. 

z  1  Cor.  XV  a  2  Thess  i.  10 


And  how  pleasant  will  it  be  to  contemplate  and  admire 
the  wisdom  and  power  of  the  great  Creator  in  this  so  glo- 
rious a  change,  when  I  shall  find  a  clod  of  earth,  a  heap 
of  dust,  refined  into  a  celestial  purity  and  brightness 
'-  when  what  was  sown  in  corruption  shall  be  raised  in  in- 
corruption  ;  what  was  sown  in  dishonour,  is  raised  in  glo- 
ry;  what  was  sown  in  weakness,  is  raised  in  power;  what 
was  sown  a  natural  body,  is  raised  a  .spiritual  body  !  when 
this  corruptible  shall  have  put  on  incorruption,  and  this 
mortal,  immortality,  and  death  be  wholly  swallowed  up  in 
victor}^ !  So  that  this  awaking  may  well  be  understood 
to  carry  that  in  it,  which  may  bespeak  it  the  proper  sea- 
son of  the  saints' consummate  satisfaction  and  blessedness. 
But  besides  what  it  carries  in  itself,  there  are  other  (more 
extrinsical)  concurrents  that  do  farther  signalize  this  sea- 
son, and  import  a  greater  increase  of  blessedness  then  to 
God's  holy  ones.  The  body  of  Christ  is  now  completed, 
the  fulness  of  him  that  filleth  all  in  all,  and  all  the  so  near- 
ly related  parts  caimot  but  partake  in  the  perfection  and 
reflected  glory  of  the  whole.  There  is  joy  in  heaven  at 
the  conversion  of  one  sinner,  though  he  have  a  trouble- 
some scene  yet  to  pass  over  afterwards,  in  a  tempting, 
wicked,  unquiet  world;  how  much  more  when  the  many 
sons  shaJl  be  all  brought  to  glory  together  !  The  designs 
are  all  now  accomplished,  and  wound  up  into  the  most 
glorious  result  and  issue,  whereof  the  Divine  Providence 
had  been,  as  in  travail,  for  so  many  thousand  years.  'Tis 
now  seen  how  exquisite  wisdom  governed  the  world,  and 
how  steady  a  tendency  the  most  intricate  and  perplexed 
methods  of  Providence  had,  to  one  stated  and  most  worthy 
end.  Specially  the  constitution,  administration,  and  ends 
of  the  Mediator's  kingdom,  are  now  beheld  in  their  exact 
aptitudes,  order,  and  conspicuous  glory ;  when  so  blessed 
an  issue  and  success  shall  commend  and  crown  the  whole 
undertaking.  The  Divine  authority  is  now  universally 
acknowledged  and  adored  ;  his  justice  is  vindicated  and 
satisfied;  his  grace  demonstrated  and  magnified  to  the  ut- 
termost. The  whole  assembly  of  saints  solemnly  acquit- 
ted b}"-  public  sentence,  presented  spotless  and  without  ble- 
mish to  God,  and  adjudged  to  eternal  blessedness.  'Tis 
the  day  of  solemn  triumph  and  jubilation,  upon  the  finish- 
ing of  all  God's  works,  from  the  creation  of  the  world 
wherein  the  Lord  Jesus*  appears  to  be  glorified  in  his 
saints,  and  admired  in  all  that  believe :  upon  which  envies 
the  resignation  of  the  Mediator's  kingdom, b  (all  the  ends 
of  it  being  now  attained,)  that  the  Father  himself  may  be 
immediately  all  in  all.  How  aptly  then  are  the  fuller  ma- 
nifestations of  God,  the  more  glorious  display  of  all  his  at- 
tributes, the  larger  and  more  abundant  effusions  of  himself, 
reserved  (as  the  best  wine  to  the  last)  unto  this  joj'ful  day ! 
Created  perfections  could  not  have  been  before  so  absolute, 
but  they  might  admit  of  improvement ;  their  capacities 
not  so  large,  but  they  might  be  extended  further  ;  and  then 
who  can  doubt  but  that  divine  communications  may  also 
have  a  proportionable  increase,  and  that  upon  the  concourse 
of  so  many  great  occasions  they  shall  have  so  1 


CHAPTER  XL 

An  introduction  to  the  use  of  the  doctrine  liitherto  proposed.  The  use  divided 
into  Inferences  of  truth,  Rules  of  duty.  1.  Inference,  That  blessedness  con- 
sists not  in  any  sensual  enjoyment.  2.  Inference.  The  spirit  of  man  (since  'tis 
capable  of  so  high  a  blessedness)  is  a  being  of  high  excellency. 

Use.  And  now  is  our  greatest  work  yet  behind  ;  the  im- 
provement of  so  momentous  a  truth,  to  the  affecting  and 
transforming  of  hearts ;  that  (if  the  Lord  shall  so  far  vouch- 
safe his  assistance  and  blessing)  they  may  taste  the  sweet- 
ness, feel  the  power,  and  bear  the  impress  and  image  of  it. 
This  is  the  work,  both  of  greatest  necessity,  difficulty,  and 
excellency,  and  unto  which,  all  that  hath  been  done  hi- 
therto, is  but  subservient  and  introductive.  Give  me 
leave,  therefore,  reader,  to  slop  thee  here,  and  demand  of 
thee  ere  thou  go  further;  hast  thou  any  design,  in  turning 
over  these  leaves,  of  bettering  thy  spirit,  of  getting  a  more 
refined,  heavenly  temper  of  souH  Art  thou  weary  of  thy 
dross  and  earth,  and  longing  for  the  first  fruits,  the  begin- 
nings of  glory  "?    Dost  thou  wish  for  a  soul  meet  for  the 

b  1  Cor  XV.  28. 


Chap.  XI. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


225 


blessedness  hitherto  described  1  What  is  here  written  is 
designed  for  thy  help  and  lurlherancc.  But  if  thou  art 
looking  on  these  pages  with  a  wanton  rolling  eye,  hunting 
for  novelties,  or  what  may  gratify  a  prurient  wit,  a  coy 
and  squeamish  fancy;  go  read  a  romance,  or  some  piece 
of  drollery  :  know  here's  nothing  for  thy  turn  ;^  and  dread 
to  meddle  with  matters  of  everlasting  concernment  with- 
out a  serious  spirit ;  read  not  another  line  till  thou  liave 
sighed  out  this  request,  "  Lord,  keep  me  from  trifling  with 
the  things  of  eternity.''  Charge  thy  soul  to  consider,  that 
what  thou  art  now  reading;  must  be  added  to  thy  account 
against  the  great  day.  'Tis  amazing  to  think,  with  what 
vanity  of  mind  the  most  weighty  things  of  religion  are 
entertained  amongst  Christians.  Things  that  should 
swallow  up  our  souls,  drink  up  our  spirits,  are  heard  as  a 
tale  that  is  told,  disregarded  by  most,  scorned  by  too  many. 
What  can  be  spoken  so  important,  or  of  so  tremendous 
consequence,  or  of  so  confessed  truth,  or  with  so  awful 
solemnity  and  premised  mention  of  the  sacred  name  of 
the  Lord,  as  not  to  find  either  a  very  .slight  entertainment 
or  contemptuous  rejection  ;  and  this  by  persons  avowing 
themselves  Christians '!  We  seem  to  have  little  or  no 
advantage,  in  urging  men  upon  their  own  principles,  and 
with  things  they  most  readily  and  professedly  assent  to. 
Their  hearts  are  as  much  untouched,  and  void  of  impres- 
sion by  the  Christian  doctrine,  as  if  they  were  of  another 
religion.  How  unlike  is  the  Christian  world  to  the  Chris- 
tian doctrine  !  The  seal  is  fair  and  excellent,  but  the  im- 
pression is  languid,  or  not  visible.  Where  is  that  serious 
godliness,  that  heavenliness,  that  purity,  that  spirituality, 
thai  righteousness,  that  peace,  unto  which  the  Christian 
religion  is  most  aptly  designed  to  work  and  form  the  spi- 
rits of  menl  We  think  to  be  saved  by  an  empty  name; 
and  glory  in  the  show  and  appearance  of  that,  the  life  and 
power  whereof  we  hate  and  deride.  'Tis  a  reproach  with 
us  not  to  be  called  a  Christian,  and  a  greater  reproach  to 
be  one.  If  such  and  such  doctrines  obtain  not  in  our  pro- 
fessed belief,  we  are  heretics  or  infidels;  if  they  do  in  our 
practice,  we  are  precisians  and  fools.  To  be  so  serious, 
and  circum.spect,  and  strict,  and  holy,  to  make  the  prac- 
tice of  godliness  so  much  our  business,  as  the  known  and 
avowed  principles  of  our  religion  do  plainly  exact  from 
us,  (yea,  though  we  come,  as  we  cannot  but  do,  unspeak- 
ably short  of  that  required  measure,)  is  to  make  one's  self 
a  common  derision  and  scorn.  Not  to  be  professedly  reli- 
gious is  barbarous,  to  be  so  in  good  earnest  ridiculous.  In 
other  tilings  men  are  wont  to  act  and  practise  according  to 
the  known  rules  of  their  several  callings  and  professions, 
and  he  would  be  reckoned  the  common  fool  of  the  neigh- 
bourhood that  should  not  do  so ;  the  husbandman  that 
should  sow  when  others  reap,  or  contrive  his  harvest  into 
the  depth  of  winter,  or  sow  fitches  and  expect  to  reap 
wheat ;  the  merchant  that  should  venture  abroad  his  most 
precious  commodities  in  a  lealry  bottom,  without  pilot  or 
compass,  or  to  places  not  likely  to  afiford  him  any  valuable 
return.  In  religion  only  it  must  be  accounted  absurd,  to 
be  and  do  according  to  its  known,  agreed  principles,  and 
he  a  fool  that  shall  but  practise  as  all  about  him  profess  to 
believe.  Lord  !  whence  is  this  apprehended  inconsistency 
between  the  profession  and  practice  of  religion  1  What 
hath  thus  stupified  and  unmanned  the  world,  that  serious- 
ness in  religion  should  bethought  the  character  of  a  fooH 
that  men  must  visibly  make  a  mockery  of  the  most  funda- 
mental articles  of  faith  onlj^  to  save  their  reputation,  and 
be  afraid  to  be  serious  lest  they  should  be  thought  mad  ? 
Were  the  doctrine  here  opened  believed  in  earnest,  were 
the  due  proper  impress  of  it  upon  our  spirits,  or,  (as  the 
pagan  moralist's  expression  is,h)  were  our  minds  transfi- 
gured into  it,  what  manner  of  persons  should  we  be  in  all 
holy  conversation  and  godliness  1  But  'tis  thought  enough 
to  have  it  in  our  creed,  though  never  in  our  hearts ;  and 
such  as  will  not  deride  the  holiness  it  should  produce,  yet 
endeavour  it  not,  nor  go  about  to  apply  and  urge  truths 
upon  their  own  souls  to  any  such  purpose.  What  should 
turn  into  grace  and  spirit  and  life,  turns  all  into  notion  and 
talk;  and  men  think  all  is  well  if  their  heads  be  filled  and 

a  Dis3<)luti  est  pectoris  in  rebus  seriis  quserere  voluptafem.     Amob. 

1)  Srientiam  qui  didicit,  et  facicnda  ct  \itanda  prsecepit,  nondum  sapiens  est, 
ni.si  in  ea  (luae  didicit  transfipirahis  est  animus. 

c  Non  prodeat  cibus,  m.-c  conwri  ucccdit,  (jui  stalim  suniptiis  emittitiir.  Sen. 
Epi^t. 


their  tongues  tipt  with  what  should  transform  their  souls 
and  govern  their  lives.  How  are  the  most  awful  truths, 
and  that  should  have  greatest  power  upon  men's  spirits, 
trifled  with  as  matters  only  of  speculation  and  discourse  ! 
They  are  heard  but  as  empty  airy  words,  and  presently 
evaporate,  pass  away  into  words  again  ;  like  food  (as  "^Se- 
neca speaks)  t/uit  cumes  up  presently,  the  same  that  it  iras 
taken  in  ;  which  (as  he  saith)  profits  not,  nor  makes  any  ac- 
cession to  the  body  at  all.  A  like  case,  (as  another  ingeni- 
ously speaks,'i)  o.s  if  sheep,  when  they  liad  been  feeding, 
should  present  their  shepherds  with  the  very  grass  itself  which 
they  hud  cropt,  and  shoio  how  much  they  liud  eaten.  No, 
.saith  he,  they  concoct  it,  a/iid  so  yield  them  wool  and  milk. 
And  so,  saith  he,  do  not  you  {viz.  when  you  have  been  in- 
structed) presently  go  and  utter  words  among  the  more  ig- 
norant, (meaning  they  should  not  do  so  in  a  way  of  osten- 
tation, to  show  how  much  they  knew  more  than  others,) 
"but  works  that  follow  upon  the  concoction  of  what  hath 
been  by  words  made  known  to  them."  Let  Christians  be 
ashamed  that  they  need  this  instruction  from  heathen 
teachers. 

Thy  words  were  found  and  I  did  eat  them,  (saith  the 
prophet,)  and  thy  word  was  to  mc  the  joy  and  rejoicing  of 
my  heart.  Divine  truth  is  only  so  far  at  present  grateful, 
or  useful  for  future,  as  'tis  received  by  faith  and  consider- 
ation, and  in  the  love  thereof,  into  the  ver}'  h?art,  and 
there  turned  in  succum  et  sangninem — into  real  nutriment 
to  the  soul ;  so  shall  man  live  by  the  word  of  God.  Hence 
is  the  application  of  it  (both  personal  and  ministerial)  of 
so  great  neces.sity.  If  the  truths  of  the  gospel  were  of  the 
same  alloy  with  some  parts  of  philosophy,  whose  end  is 
attained  as  soon  as  they  are  known;  if  the  Scripture  doc- 
trine (the  whole  entire  s)'stem  of  it)  were  not  a  doctrine 
afier  godliness,  if  it  were  not  designed  to  sanctifj'  and 
make  men  holy  ;  or  if  the  hearts  of  men  did  not  reluctate, 
were  easily  receptive  of  its  impressions;  our  work  were  as 
soon  done  as  such  a  doctrine  were  nakedly  proposed  :  but 
the  state  of  the  case  in  these  respects  is  known  and  evident. 
The  tenour  and  aspect  of  gospel  truth  speaks  its  end  ;  and  ex- 
perience too  plainly  speaks  the  oppositeness  of  men's  spirits. 
All  therefore  we  read  and  hear  is  lost  if  it  be  not  urgently 
applied  :  the  Lord  grant  it  be  not  then  too.  Therefore, 
reader,  let  thy  mind  and  heart  concur  in  the  following  im- 
provement of  this  doctrine,  which  will  be  wholly  compre- 
hended under  these  two  heads, — Inferences  of  truth,  and — 
Rulesof  duty, — that  are  consequent  and  connatural  thereto. 

1.  Inferences  of  truth  deducible  from  it. 

1.  Infer.  True  blessedness  consists  not  in  any  sensual 
enjovment.  The  blessedness  of  a  man  can  be  but  one  ; 
most  only  one.  He  can  have  but  one  highest  and  best 
good.  And  its  proper  character  is,  that  it  finally  satisfies 
and  gives  rest  to  his  spirit.  This  the  face  and  likeness  of 
God  doth ;  his  glory  beheld  and  participated.  Here  then 
alone  his  full  blessedness  must  be  understood  to  lie. 
Therefore  as  this  might  many  other  ways  be  evinced  to  be 
true ;  so  it  evidently  appears  to  be  the  proper  issue  of  the 
present  truth,  and  is  plainly  proved  by  it.  But,  alas!  it 
needs  a  great  deal  more  to  be  pressed  than  proved.  O  that 
it  were  but  as  much  considered  as  it  is  known  !  The  ex- 
perience of  almost  six  thousand  years,  hath  (one  would 
think  sufficiently)  testified  the  incompetency  of  every 
worldly  thing  to  make  men  happy  ;  that  the  present  plea- 
sing of  our  senses,  and  the  gratification  of  our  animal  part, 
is  not  blessedness;  that  men  are  still  left  unsatisfied  not- 
withstanding. But  the  practice  and  course  of  the  world 
are  such,  as  if  this  were  some  late  and  rare  experiment; 
which  (for  curiosity)  every  one  must  be  trying  over  again. 
Every  age  renews  the  inquiry  after  an  earthly  felicity:  the 
design  is  entailed,  (as  the  Spanish  designs  are  said  to  be.) 
and  reinforced  with  as  great  a  confidence  and  vigour  from 
age  to  age,  as  if  none  had  been  baffled  or  defeated  in  it  be- 
fore ;  or  that  they  were  very  likely  to  take  at  last.  Had  this 
been  the  alone  folly  of  the  first  age,  it  had  admitted  some 
excuse  ;  but  that  the  world  should  still  be  cheated  by  the 
same  so  oft  repeated  impostures,  presents  us  with  a  sad 
prospect  of  the  deplorable  state  of  mankind.*^     This  their 

d  'Erf(  Kai  ra  -zpojiaTa,  ov  xoprov  (pepov-a  rots  ^oipcoty  crriSttKytvei  iro- 
aovt<payti\  aXXa  Tr)v  vopr)vta(j)  irtxl/avra.  tpiov  e^co  (pfoci  >cat  y  a\a  icat  ov 
TOivvv,pri  ruxcoK  pttpara  rati  tStioratf  iiriSeiKici'r,  oAXaar'  avrtoy  rr^ 
9fvr<ov  Til  fP) ''.     Epictot. 

e  P.-atm  xlix. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


Chap.  XI. 


way  is  their  folly,  yet  their  posterity  approve,  &c.  The 
wearied  wits  and  wasted  estates,  laid  out  upon  the  philo- 
sopher's stone,  aflbrd  hut  a  faint,  defective  representation 
of  this  case.  What  chemistry  can  extract  heaven  out  of  a 
clod  of  clay  1  What  art  can  make  blessedness  spring  and 
grow  out  of  this  cold  earth  1  If  all  created  nature  be  vexed 
and  tortured  never  so  long,  who  can  expect  this  elixir  1 
Yet  after  so  many  frustrated  attempts,  so  much  time  and 
strength  and  labour  lost,  men  are  still  as  eagerly  and  vain- 
ly busy  as  ever  ;  are  perpetually  tossed  by  unsatisfied  de- 
sires, labouring  in  the  fire,  wearying  themselves  for  very 
vanity,  distracted  by  the  uncertain,  and  often  contrary,  mo- 
tions of  a  ravenous  appetite,  and  a  blind  mind,  that  would 
be  happy  and  knows  not  how.  With  what  sounding 
bowels,  with  what  compassionate  tears,  should  the  state  of 
mankind  be  lamented  by  all  that  understand  the  worth  of 
a  soul !  What  serious  heart  doth  not  melt  and  bleed  for 
miserable  men,  that  are  (through  a  just  nemesisf)  so  per- 
petually mocked  with  shadows,  cheated  with  false  dehi- 
sive  appearances,  infatuated  and  betrayed  by  their  own 
senses.  They  walk  but  in  a  vain  show,  disquieting  them- 
selves in  vain ;  their  days  flee  away  as  a  shadow,  their 
strength  is  only  labour  and  sorrow ;  while  they  rise  up 
early  and  lie  down  late,  to  seek  rest  in  trouble,  and  life  in 
death.  They  run  away  fromblessedness  while  they  pretend 
to  pursue  it,  and  suflTer  themselves  to  be  led  down  without 
regret  to  perdition,  "as  an  ox  to  the  slaughter,  and  a  fool 
to  the  correction  of  the  stocks,  till  a  dart  strikes  through 
their  liver:"  descend  patiently  to  the  chambers  of  death, 
not  so  much  as  once  thinking,  whither  are  we  going  ? 
dream  of  nothing  but  an  earthly  paradise,  till  they  find 
themselves  amidst  the  infernal  regions. 

2.  Infer.  The  spirit  of  man,  inasmuch  as  'tis  capable  of 
such  a  blessedness,  appears  an  excellent  creature.'  Its  na- 
tural capacity  is  supposed;  for  the  Psalmist  speaks  of  his 
own  numerical  person,  the  same  that  then  writ ;  I  shall  be- 
hold; shall  be  satisfied  :  take  away  this  supposiium,  and  it 
could  not  be  so  said :  or  as  in  Job's  w^ords  ;  I  shall  behold 
him,  and  not  another  for  me ;  it  would  certainly  be  another, 
not  the  same.  Judge  hence  the  excellency  of  a  human  soul 
(the  principal  subject  of  this  blessedness)  without  addition 
of  any  new  natural  powers ;  'tis  capable  of  the  vision  of 
God  ;  of  partaking  unto  satisfaction  the  Divine  likeness. 
And  is  not  that  an  excellent  creature,  that  is  capable  not 
only  of  surveying  the  creation  of  God,  passing  through  the 
several  ranks  and  orders  of  created  beings  ;  but  of  ascend- 
ing to  the  Being  of  beings,  of  contemplating  the  Divine 
excellencies,  of  beholding  the  bright  and  glorious  face  of 
the  blessed  God  himself;  till  it  have  looked  itself  into  his 
very  likeness,  and  have  his  entire  imagcinwrought  into  it. 
The  dignity  then  of  the  spirit  of  man  is  not  to  be  estimated 
by  the  circumstances  of  its  present  state,  as  'tis  here  clad 
with  a  sordid  flesh,  inwrapped  in  darkness,  and  grovelling 
in  the  dust  of  the  earth  :  but  consider  the  improvableness 
of  its  natural  powers  and  faculties ;  the  high  perfections  it 
may  attain,  and  the  foundations  of  how  glorious  a  state 
are  laid  in  its  very  nature.  And  then  who  can  tell,  whe- 
ther its  possible  advancement  is  more  to  be  admired,  or  its 
present  calamity  deplored.  Might  this  consideration  be 
permitted  to  settle  and  fix  itself  in  the  hearts  of  men ;  could 
any  thing  be  so  grievous  to  them,  as  their  so  vast  distance 
from  such  an  attainable  blessedness  ;  or  any  thing  be  so  in- 
dustriously avoided,  so  earnestly  abhorred,  as  that  viler 
dejection  and  abasement  of  themselves :  when  they  are  so 
low  already  by  Divine  disposition,  to  descend  lower  by 
their  own  wickedness ;  when  they  are  already  fallen  as 
low  as  earth,  to  precipitate  themselves  a.s  low  as  hell.  How 
generous  a  disdain  should  that  thought  raise  in  men's  spi- 
rits, of  that  vile  servitude  to  which  they  have  subjected 
themselves,  a  servitude  to  brutal  lusts,  to  sensual  inclina- 
tions and  desires;  as  if  the  highest  happiness  they  did  pro- 
ject to  themselves  were  the  satisfaction  of  these  1     Would 

f  Ira  Dei  r^t  ista  vita  niortalis,  ubi  homo  vanifati  similis  factu.s  est,  et  dies 
ejus  voliit  iHiilira  iira>tereiint,  &c      Auiz  ilc  Tiv  Oil,  1    •i'i    c.  24. 

p  Nut  thai  thi^^  lilt'ssedness  can  beattairicill)v  incri' liiirnan  iTuIi^avours.  (more 
whfroor.ji'r  uiiiliT  the  next  inference.)  b' it  Ihrrr  is  aiiiiicliiiatioii.  a  certain  pon 
dimnaturiE,  (as  .some  school-men  speali,)  by  which  it  propcnds  towards  it ; 
or  Iliore  is  the  radix,  or  fundamrnf inn.  or  capncitas,  (as  some  others,)  f.  e. 
that  it  not  only  may  receive  it ;  but  that  it  may  be  elevated  by  grace,  actively 
to  concur,  by  its  natural  powers,  as  \ital  principles  towards  the  attainment  of 
it,  according  to  t!iat  known  saying  of  Saint  Augustine  Posse  credere  natnne 
est  hominis,  i-c. 


they  not  with  an  heroic  scorn  turn  away  their  eyes  from 
beholding  vanity,  did  they  consider  their  own  capacity  of 
beholding  the  Divine  glory  ?  could  they  satisfy  themselves 
to  become  b  like  the  beasts  that  perish,  did  they  think  of 
being  satisfied  with  the  likeness  of  God  1  And  who  can 
conceive  unto  what  degree  this  aggravates  the  sin  of  man, 
that  he  so  little  minds  (as  it  will  their  misery,  that  shall 
fall  short  of)  this  blessedness !  They  had  spirits  capable  of 
it.  Consider,  thou  sensual  man,  whose  happiness  lies  in 
colours,  and  tastes,  and  sounds,  (as  the  moralist  ingeniously 
speaks,)  that  herdest  thyself  with  brute  creatures,  and  aim- 
est  no  higher  than  they ;  as  little  lookest  up,  and  art  as 
much  a  stranger  to  the  thoughts  and  desires  of  heaven  :  thy 
creation  did  not  set  thee  so  low  ;  they  are  where  they  were ; 
but  thou  art  fallen  from  thy  excellency.  God  did  not  make 
thee  a  brute  creature,  but  thou  thyself  Thou  hast  yet  a 
spirit  about  thee,  that  might  understand  its  own  original, 
and  alliance  to  the  Father  of  spirits  ;  that  hath  a  designa- 
tion in  its  nature  to  higher  converses  and  employments. 
Many  myriads  of  such  spirits,  of  no  higher  original  excel- 
lency than  thy  own,  are  now  in  the  presence  of  the  highest 
Majest}'^ ;  are  piying  into  the  Eternal  glory,  contemplating 
the  perfections  of  the  Divine  nature,  beholding  the  un- 
vailed  face  of  God,  which  transfuses  upon  them  its  own 
satisfying  likeness.  Thou  art  not  so  low-born,  but  thou 
mightest  attain  this  state  also.  That  sovereign  Lord  and 
Author  of  all  things  calls  thee  to  it ;  his  goodness  invites 
thee,  his  authority  enjoins  thee,  to  turn  thy  thoughts  and 
designs  this  way.  Fear  not  to  be  thought  immodest  or  pre- 
sumptuous: ''tis  but  a  dutiful  ambition  ;  an  obedient  a.s- 
piring.  Thou  art  under  a  law  to  be  thus  happy ;  nor  doth 
it  bind  thee  to  any  natural  impossibility  ;  it  designs  instruc- 
tions to  thee,  not  delusion;  guidance,  not  mockery.  When 
thou  art  required  to  apply  and  turn  thy  soul  to  this  blessed- 
ness, 'tis  not  the  same  thing  as  if  thou  wert  bidden  to  re- 
move a  mountain,  to  pluck  down  a  star,  or  create  a  world. 
Thou  art  here  put  upon  nothing  but  what  is  agreeable  to 
the  primeval  nature  of  man ;  and  thorigh  it  be  to  a  vast 
height,  thou  must  ascend:  'tis  by  so  easy  and  familiar  me- 
thods, by  so  apt  gradations,  that  thou  will  be  sensible  of  no 
violence  done  to  thy  nature  in  all  thy  wa}'.  Do  but  make 
some  trials  with  thyself;  thou  wilt  soon  find  nothing  is  the 
hinderance  but  an  nnwilling  heart.  Try  however  (which 
will  suffice  to  let  thee  discern  thy  own  capacity,  and  will 
be  a  likely  means  to  make  thee  willing)  how  far  thou  canst 
understand  and  trace  the  way  (complying  with  it  at  least 
as  reasonable)  that  leads  to  this  blesseilness.  Retire  a  little 
into  thyself;  forget  awhile  thy  relation  to  this  sensible 
world ;  summon  in  thy  self-reflecting  and  considering  pow- 
ers :  thou  wilt  presently  perceive  thou  art  not  already  hap- 
py, thou  art  in  some  part  unsatisfied ;  and  thence  wilt  easily 
tinderstand,  inasmuch  as  thou  art  not  happy  in  thyself, 
that  it  must  be  something,  as  yet  without  thee,  must  make 
thee  so :  and  nothing  can  make  thee  happy,  but  what  is 
in  that  respect  better  than  thyself;  or  hath  some  perfection 
in  it,  which  thou  findesl  wanting  in  thyself  A  little  fur- 
ther discourse  or  reasoning  with  thyself,  will  easily  per- 
suade thee,  thou  ha.st  something  better  about  thee  than  that 
luggage  of  flesh  thou  goest  with  to  and  fro  ;  for  thou  well 
Imowest,  thatk  is  not  capable  of  reason  and  discourse :  and 
that  the  power  of  doing  so  is  a  higher  perfection  than  any 
thou  canst  entitle  it  to;  and  that  therefore,  besides  thy 
bulky,  material  part,  thou  must  have  such  a  thing  as  a  spi- 
rit or  soul  belonging  to  thee,  to  which  that,  and  thy  other 
perfections,  not  compatible  to  gross  matter,  may  agree. 
Thou  wilt  readily  assent,  that  thou  canst  never  be  happy, 
while  thy  better  and  more  noble  part  is  unsatisfied;  and 
that  it  can  only  be  satisfied  with  something  suitable  and 
connatural  to  it.  That  therefore  thy  happiness  must  lie  in 
something  more  excellent  than  this  material  or  sensible 
world,  otherwise  it  cannot  be  grateful  and  suitable  to  thy 
soul,  yea,  in  something  that  may  be  better,  and  more  ex- 

h  Volnptas  honnm  pecoris  est Hunc  tu  (non  dico  infer  viros  scd)  inter  ho- 
mines numeia-s?  cuius  siimmum  bonum  saporibus,  ac  coloribus,  ac  sonis  con- 
stat? cxcedat  ex  hoc  animalium  nnmoro  pulcberrimo,  ac  diis  secundo  ;  mutis 
ag^cgetur  animal  pabiilo  natiim.    Sen.  Ep.  92. 

i  Hie  Deos  aequat,  illo  tendit,  originis  suae  meraor.  Nemo,  improlx",  eo  co- 
natur  asccndere  unde  descenderat — socii  eis  sumus  et  membra,  &c.  Sen.  Ep. 
92. 

k  \oytt7^o^  ?iZKatvov^^oVK£Ti  raxna  (Toypari  St^byatp  nvra^Kat  •yapep')OV 
auriJi'OD  (!i  upyavoiv  TtXttrat  ron  ooiiiaTOi Cfino^iov  yap  tovto,  £»rif  avro) 
ev  rati  (TKCif/cat  npoxpMTo.    Plotin.  Ennead.  4.  lib.  3. 


Chap.  XII. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


227 


cellent  than  thy  soul  itself,  otherwise  how  can  it  better  and 
perfect  that.i  As  thou  canst  not  but  acknowledge  thy 
soul  to  be  spiritual  and  immaterial,  so  if  thou  attend  ihou 
wilt  soon  see  cause  to  acknowledge  a  spiritual  or  immate- 
rial being,  better  and  more  perfect  than  thy  own  soul.  For 
its  perfections  were  not  self-originate,  they  were  therefore 
derived  from  something,  for  that  reason  confessedly  more 
excellent ;  whence  at  last  also  thou  wilt  find  it  unavoidably 
imposed  upon  thee,  to  apprehend  and  adore  a  Being  abso- 
lutely perfect,  and  than  which  there  cannot  be  a  more 
perfect;  the  first  subject  and  common  fountain  of  all  per- 
fections, which  hath  them  underived  in  himself,  and  can 
derive  them  unio  inferior  created  beings.™  Upon  this  eter- 
nal and  self-essential  Being,  the  infinitely  lilessed  God, 
thou  necessarily  dependest,  and  owest  therefore  constant 
subjection  and  obedience  to  him.  Thou  hast  indeed  of- 
fended him,  and  art  thereby  cut  off"  from  all  interest  in 
him,  and  intercourse  with  him ;  but  he  hath  proclaimed  in 
his  gospel,  his  willingness  to  be  reconciled,  and  that  through 
the  sutferings,  righteousness,  and  intercession  of  his  only- 
begotten  Son,  thy  merciful  Redeemer,  the  way  is  open  for 
th)-^  restitution  and  recovery ;  that  thou  mayst  partake  from 
him  whatever  perfection  is  wanting  to  thy  blessedness. 
Nothing  is  required  from  thee  in  order  hereunto,  but  that, 
relying  on  and  submitting  to  thy  Redeemer's  gracious  con- 
duct, thou  turn  thy  mind  and  heart  towards  thy  God,  to 
know  him,  and  conform  to  him;  to  view  aad  imitate  the 
Divine  perfections;  the  faithful  endeavour  and  inchoation 
whereof,  will  have  this  issue  and  reward,  the  clear  vision 
and  full  participation  of  them.  So  that  the  way  and  work 
differ  not,  in  natttre  and  kind,  from  thy  end  and  reward; 
thy  duty  from  thy  blessedness.  Nor  are  either  repugnant 
to  the  natural  constitution  of  thy  own  soul.  What  violence 
is  there  done  to  reasonable  nature  in  all  this  1  or  what  can 
hinder  thee  herein,  but  a  most  culpably  averse  and  wicked 
heart  1  Did  thy  reason  ever  turn  off  thy  soul  from  God  1 
was  it  not  thj'  corruption  only  1  What  vile  images  dost 
thou  receive  from  earthly  objects,  which  deform  thy  soul, 
while  thou  industriously  avertest  thy  Maker's  likeness 
that  would  perfect  it !  How  full  is  thy  mind  and  heart  of 
vanity!  how  empty  of  God!  Were  this  through  natural 
incapacity,  thou  wert  an  innocent  creature;  it  were  thj^ 
infelicity,  (negative  I  mean,)  not  thy  crime;  and  must  be 
resolved  into  the  sovereign  will  of  thy  Creator,  not  thy  own 
disobedient  will.  But  when  this  shall  appear  the  true 
state  of  thy  case,  and  thou  shalt  hear  it  from  the  mouth 
of  th}^  Judge,  "  Thou  didst  not  like  to  retain  me  in  thy 
knowledge  or  love;  thou  hadst  reason  and  will  to  use 
about  meaner  objects,  but  none  for  me;  thou  couldst 
sometimes  have  spared  me  a  glance,  a  cast  of  thine  eye  at 
least,  when  thou  didst  rather  choose  it  should  be  in  the 
ends  of  the  earth :  a  thought  of  me  had  cost  thee  as  little, 
might  as  soon  have  been  thought,  as  of  this  or  that  vanity; 
but  thy  heart  was  not  with  me.  I  banish  thee,  therefore, 
that  presence  which  thou  never  lovedst.  I  deny  thee  the 
vision  thou  didst  always  shun,  and  the  impression  of  my 
likeness  which  thou  didst  ever  hate.  I  eternally  abandon 
thee  to  the  darkness  and  deformities  which  were  ever 
grateful  to  thee.  Thine  is  a  self-created  hell ;  the  fruit  of 
thy  own  choice ;  no  invitations  or  persuasions  of  mine 
could  keep  thee  from  it."  How  wilt  thou  excuse  thy  fault, 
or  avert  thy  doom!  what  arguments  or  apologies  shall 
defend  thy  cause  against  these  pleadings  1  Naj'',  what  ar- 
mour shall  defend  thy  soul  against  its  ow^n  wounding 
self-reflections  hereupon  1  when  every  thought  shall  be  a 
dart ;  and  a  convicted  conscience  an  ever-gnawing  worm, 
a  fiery  serpent  with  endless  involutions  ever  winding  about 
thy  heart  1 

It  will  now  be  sadly  thought  on,  how  often  thou  sawest 
thy  way  and  declinedst  it ;  knewest  thy  duty  and  didst  waive 
it ;  vmderstoodest  thy  interest  and  didst  slight  it ;  appro- 
vedst  the  things  that  were  more  excellent,  and  didst  re- 
ject them.  How  often  thou  didst  prevaricate  with  thy 
light,  and  run  counter  to  thine  own  eyes;  while  things, 

1  SicHt  non  est  ac  ame,  spd  super  campm,  ouod  camem  facit  vivere  :  sic  non 
est  ab  homme.  «ed  super  hominem,  quod  hominem,  facit  beate  vivere.  D.  Aug. 
de  CiWt.  Dei.  lib.  19.  c.  25. 

m  Ut  in  ordine  causanim  efficientium,  ita  et  in  gradibus  \irtutis  et  perfec- 
tioni?.  non  datur  proereAsus  in  infinitmii :  sed  oportet  sit  aliqua  prima  et  Fumma 
perfpciio:  Pet.  Molin  de  cocniiione  Dei.  Not  to  insist  upon  wlmt  hath  been 
much  urged  by  learned  men  of  farmer  and  latter  (yea,  and  of  the  prvicir) 


confessedly  most  worthy  of  thy  thoughts  and  pursuits, 
were  overlooked,  and  empty  shadows  eagerly  pursued. 
Thy  own  heart  will  now  feelingly  tell  thee,  ii  was  not  want 
of  capacity,  but  inclination,  that  cut  thee  off"  from  blessed- 
ness. Thou  wilt  now  bethink  th5'.self,  that  when  life  and 
immortality  were  brought  to  light  before  thy  eyes  in  the 
gospel,  and  thou  wast  told  of  this  future  blessedness  of  the 
saints,  and  pressed  to  follow  holiness,  as  without  which 
thou  couldst  not  see  God  ;  it  was  a  rea.sonable  man  was 
.spoken  to,  that  had  a  power  to  understand,  and  judge,  and 
choose ;  not  a  stone  or  a  brute.  Thy  capacity  of  this 
blessedness  makes  thee  capable  also  of  the  most  exquisite 
torment;  and  reflected  on,  actually  infers  it.  How  pas- 
sionately, but  vainly,  wilt  thou  then  cry  out,  "O  that  I 
had  filled  up  the  place  of  any  the  meanest  creature  through- 
out the  whole  creation  of  God,  that  I  had  been  a  gnat,  or 
a  fly,  or  had  never  been,  rather  than  to  have  so  noble, 
abused  powers  eternally  to  reckon  for !  Yea,  and  thou 
must  reckon  for  not  only  the  actual  light  and  good  impres- 
sions thou  hadst,  but  even  all  thou  wast  capable  of  and 
mightest  have  attained.  Thou  shalt  now  recount  with  an- 
guish and  horror  (and  rend  thy  own  soul  with  the  thoughts) 
what  thou  mightest  now  have  been  ;  how  excellent  and 
glorious  a  creature !  hadst  thou  not  contrived  thy  own 
misery,  and  conspired  with  the  devil  again.st  thyself,  how 
to  deform  and  destroy  thy  own  soul.  While  this  remem- 
brance shall  always  afresh  ret  urn,  that  nothing  was  enjoined 
thee  as  a  duty,  or"  propounded  as  thy  blessedness,  but  what 
thou  wast  made  capable  of;  and  that  it  was  not  fatal  ne- 
cessity, but  a  walful  choice,  made  thee  miserable. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Inference  3.  That  a  change  of  heart  is  necessary  to  this  blessedness.  The 
pretences  of  ungodly  men,  whereby  they  would  avoid  the  necessity  of  thia 
change  Five  considerations  proposed  in  order  to  the  delecting  the  vanity 
of  such  pretences.  A  particidar  discussion  and  refutation  ol  those  pre- 
tences. 

3.  'Tis  a  mighty  change  must  pass  upon  the  souls  of 
men  in  order  to  their  enjoyment  of  this  blessedness.  This 
equally  follows  from  the  consideration  of  the  nature  and 
substantial  parts  of  it,  as  of  the  qualifying  righteousness 
pre-required  to  it.  A  little  reflection  upon  the  common 
state  and  temper  of  men's  spirits,  will  soon  enforce  an 
acknowledgment  that  the  vision  of  God,  and  conformity 
to  him,  are  things  above  their  reach,  and  which  they  are 
never  likely  to  take  satisfaction  in,  or  at  all  to  savour, 
till  they  become  otherwise  disposed  than  before  the  reno- 
vating change  thev  are.  The  text  expresses  no  more  in 
stating  the  qualified  subject  of  this  blessedness  in  rigUe- 
ousnfus,  than  it  evidently  implies  in  the  account  it  gives  of 
this  blessedness  itself,  that  it  lies  in  seeing  God.  and  being 
satisfied  with  his  likeness.  As  soon  as  it  is  considered, 
that  the  blessedness  of  souls  is  stated  here,  what  can  be  a 
more  obvious  reflection  than  this  ;  Lord,  then  how  great 
a  change  must  they  undergo !  What,  such  souls  he  blessed 
in  seeing  and  partaking  the  divine  likeness,  that  never 
loved  it !  were  so  much  his  enemies!  'Tis  true  they  are 
naturally  capable  of  it,  which  speaks  their  original  excel- 
lency ;  but  they  are  morally  uncapable,  i  e.  indisposed  and 
averse,  whichas  truly,  and  most  sadly  speaks,  their  present 
vileness;  and  the  sordid,  abject  temper  they  now  are  of. 
They  are  destitute  of  no  natural  powers  necessary  to  the 
attainment  of  this  blessedness;  but  in  the  mean  time  have 
them  so"  depraved  by  impure  and  vicious  tinctures,  that 
they  cannot  relish  it,"  or  the  means  to  it.  They  have  rea- 
sonable souls,  furnished  with  intellective  and  elective  fa- 
culties, but  labouring  under  a  manifold  distemper  and  dis- 
affection ;  that  theyb  cannot  receive,  they  cannot  savour, 
the  things  of  God,  or  what  is  spiritual.  They  want  the 
ti'^ea'ta.  (as  we  express  it,)  the  well-disposedncss  for 
the  kingdom  of  Gfod,  intimated  Luke  ix.  62.  the  'iKavorin, 

time.— that  whossoever  denies  the  existence  of  an  absolute  perfect  being,  con- 
tradicts himself  in  the  denial,  inasmucli  as  necessity  of  existence  is  included 
in  tlie  very  suliiecl  of  the  ne^tion, — some  accounting  it  sophism,  and  it  beiop 
uiiso!i.<onal)le  here  to  discuss  it.  j      •  e, 

a  Capa.\  est  noster  animus,  pcrfortiir  illo,  si  \itui  non  depnmant  Sen. 
Ei'ist.  9-2. 

b  I  Cor.  ii.  14.     Rom.-  viii.  5. 


228 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


Chap.  XII, 


the  meetness,  the  aptitude,  or  idoneity  for  the  inheritance 
of  the  saints  in  light,  Col.  i.  12. 

A  settled  aversion  from  God  hath  fastened  its  roots  in 
the  very  spirits  of  their  minds ;  (for  that  is  stated  <=  as  the 
prime  subject  of  the  change  to  be  made ;)  and  how  can  they 
take  pleasure  in  the  vision  and  participation  of  his  glory  1 
Whereas  by  beholding  the  glory  of  the  Lord,  they  should 
be  changed  into  the  same  image;  a  veil  is  upon  the  heart 
till  it  turn  to  the  Lord,  as  was  said  concerning  the  Jews, 
2  Cor.  iii.  11.  The  God  of  this  world  hath  blinded  their 
minds,  lest  (that  transforming  light)  the  light  of  the  glo- 
rious gospel  of  Christ,  who  is  the  image  of  God,  should 
shine  unto  them,  chap.  iv.  4.  They  are  alienated  d  from 
the  life  of  God,  through  their  ignorance  and  blindness  of 
heart.  The  life  they  choose  is  to  be  liOeot  h  Kdafios,  atheists, 
or «  without  God  in  the  world.  They  like  not  to  retain 
God  in  their  knowledge,  are  willingly  ignorant  of  him,  say 
to  him,  "  Depart  from  us,  we  desire  not  the  knowledge  of 
thy  ways."  The  Lord  looks  down  from  heaven  upon  the 
children  of  men,  to  see  if  any  will  understand,  if  any  will 
seek  after  God ;  and  the  result  of  the  inquiry  is,  there  is 
none  that  doth  good,  no  not  one.  They  are  f  haters  of  God, 
as  our  Saviour  accused  the  Jews,  and  Saint  Paul  the  Gen- 
tiles;' are  lovers  of  pleasure  more  than  lovers  of  God. 
Their  understandings  are  dark,  their  minds  vain,  their 
wills  obstinate,  their  consciences  seared,  their  hearts  hard 
and  dead,  their  lives  one  continued  rebellion  against  God 
and  a  defiance  to  heaven.  At  how  vast  a  distance  are 
such  souls  from  such  blessedness !  The  notion  and  nature 
of  blessedness  must  sure  be  changed,  or  the  temper  of 
their  spirits.  Either  they  must  have  new  hearts  created, 
or  a  new  heaven,  if  ever  they  be  happy.  And  such  is  the 
stupid  dotage  of  vain  man,  he  can  more  easily  persuade 
himself  to  belie\  ?,  that  the  sun  itself  should  be  transformed 
into  a  dunghill,  that  the  holy  God  should  lay  aside  his 
nature,  and  turn  heaven  into  a  place  of  impure  darkness ; 
than  that  he  himself  should  need  to  undergo  a  change.  O 
the  powerful  infatuation  of  self-love,  that  men  in  the  gall 
of  bitterness  should  think  'tis  well  with  their  spirits,  and 
fancy  themselves  in  a  case  good  enough  to  enjoy  divine 
pleasure ;  that  (as  the  toad's  venom  offends  not  itself)  their 
loathsome  wickedness,  which  all  good  men  detest,  is  a 
pleasure  to  them;  and  while  'tis  as  the  poison  of  asps 
under  their  lips,  they  roll  it  as  a  dainty  bit,  revolve  it  in 
their  thoughts  with  delight !  Their  wickedness  speaks 
itself  out  to  the  very  hearts  h  of  others,  while  it  never  alTects 
their  own;  and  is  foimd  out  to  be  hateful,  while  they  still 
continue  flattering  themselves.  And  because  they  are 
without  spot  in  their  own  eyes;  they  adventure  so  high, 
as  to  presume  themselves  so  in  the  pure  eyes  of  God  too ; 
and  instead  of  designing  to  be  like  God,  they  already  ima- 
gine him  i  such  a  one  as  themselves.  Hence  their  allot- 
ment of  time  (in  the  whole  of  it,  the  Lord  knows,  little 
enough)  for  the  working  out  of  their  salvation  spends  apace ; 
while  tney  do  not  so  much  as  imderstand  their  business. 
Their  measured  hour  is  almost  out ;  an  immense  eternity 
is  coming  on  upon  them  ;  and  lo  !  they  stand  as  men  that 
cannot  find  their  hands.  Urge  them  to  the  speedy,  serious 
endeavour  of  a  heart-change,  earnestly  to  intend  the  busi- 
ness of  regeneration,  of  becoming  new  creatures;  they  seem 
to  understand  it  as  little  as  if  they  were  spoken  to  in  an 
unknown  tongue  ;  and  are  in  the  like  posture  with  the 
confounded  builders  of  Babel,  they  know  not  what  we 
mean,  or  would  put  them  upon.  They  wonder  what  we 
would  have  them  do.  "  They  are  (say  they)  orthodox 
Christians:  they  believe  all  the  articles  of  the  Christian 
creed :  they  detest  all  heresy  and  false  doctrine :  they  are 
no  strangers  to  the  house  of  God ;  but  diligently  attend 
the  enjoined  solemnities  of  public  worship :  some  possibly 
can  say,  they  are  sober,  just,  charitable,  peaceable;  and 
others  that  can  boast  less  of  their  virtues,  yet  say,  they  are 
sorry  for  their  sins,  and  pray  God  to  forgive  them."  And 
if  we  urge  them  concerning  their  translation  from  the  state 
of  nature  to  that  of  grace,  their  becoming  new  creatures, 
their  implantation  into  Christ :  they  say  they  have  been 
baptized,  and  therein  regenerate,  and  what  would  we  have 
morel 


c  Epli.  iv  23. 
c  Cnnp  ii.  VI. 
f  John  XV. 


d  EpH.  IV.  I^. 
.2^.    2Pei.  Ui.     Jobxxi.  14.    PsaJ.  liii. 
g  Rom.  i.  h  Psal.  xx\i.  1,  2. 


But  to  how  little  purpose  is  it  to  equivocate  with  God ! 
to  go  about  to  put  a  fallacy  upon  the  Judge  of  spirits  !  or 
escape  the  animadversion  of  his  fiery  flaming  eye !  or 
elude  his  determinations,  and  pervert  the  true  intent  and 
meaning  of  his  most  established  constitutions  and  laws ! 
Darest  thou  venture  thy  soul  upon  if?  that  this  is  all  God 
means,  by  k  having  a  new  heart  created,  a  right  spirit 
renewed  in  us :  by  being  made  God's  i  workmanship, 
created  in  Christ  Jesus  unto  good  works;  bym  becoming 
new  creatures,  old  things  being  done  away,  all  things  made 
new ;  by  n  so  learning  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus,  to  the  put- 
ting off  the  old  man,  and  putting  on  the  new  which  after 
God  is  created  in  righteousness  and  true  holiness;  by" 
being  begotten  of  God's  own  will  by  the  word  of  truth,  to 
be  (the  dnapx<^)  the  chief  excellency,  the  prime  glory,  (as 
certainly  his  new  creature  is  his  best  creature,)  the  first- 
fruits,  or  the  devoted  part  of  all  his  creatures ;  by  p  having 
Christ  formed  in  us;  by  partaking  the  Divine  nature,  the 
incorruptible  .seed,  the  seed  of  God;  by  being  born  of  God, 
spirit  of  Spirit,  as  of  earthly  parents  we  are  born  flesh  of 
flesh.  When  my  eternal  blessedness  lies  upon  it,  had  I 
not  need  to  be  sure  that  I  hit  the  true  meaning  of  these 
scriptures'?  especially,  that  at  least  I  fall  not  below  it,  and 
rest  not  in  any  thing  short  of  what  Scripture  makes  indis- 
pensably necessary  to  my  entering  into  the  kingdom  of 
God "?  I  professedly  wave  controversies ;  and  'tis  pity  so 
practical  a  business  as  this  I  am  now  upon,  and  upon  which 
salvation  so  much  depends,  should  ever  have  been  encum- 
bered with  any  controversy.  And  therefore,  though  1  shall 
not  digress  so  far,  as  to  undertake  a  particular  and  distinct 
handling  here  of  this  work  of  God  upon  the  soul,  yet  I 
shall  propound  something  in  general,  touching  the  change 
necessarily  previous  to  this  blessedness,  (wherein  that 
necessity  is  evidenceable  from  the  nature  of  this  blessed- 
ness which  is  the  business  I  have  in  hand,)  that  I  hope 
will  pass  among  Christians  for  acknowledged  truth,  not 
liable  to  dispute,  though  the  Lord  knows  it  he  little  con- 
sidered. My  design  being  rather  to  awaken  souls  to  the 
consideration  of  known  and  agreed  things,  than  to  perplex 
them  about  unknown.     Consider  therefore: 

First,  That  the  Holy  Scriptures,  in  the  forementioned 
and  other  like  passages,  do  plainly  hold  forth  the  necessity  of 
a  real  change  to  be  made  in  the  temper  and  dispositions  of 
the  soul :  and  not  a  relative  only,  respecting  its  state.  This 
cannot  be  doubted  by  any  that  acknowledge  a  real  inherent 
depravation,  propagated  in  the  nature  of  man.  No,  nor 
denied  by  them  that  grant  such  a  corruption  to  be  general 
and  continued  among  men  ;  whether  by  imitation  only,  or 
what  way  soever.  And  willing  I  am  to  meet  men  upon 
their  owii  principles  and  concessions,  however  erroneous 
or  short  of  the  truth  they  may  be,  while  ihey  are  yet  im- 
provable to  their  own  advantage.  Admit  that  regeneration 
or  the  new-birth  includes  a  change  of  our  relation  and  state 
God  ward  ;  doth  it  therefore  exclude  an  intrinsic,  subjective 
change  of  the  inclinations  and  tendencies  of  the  soul  1  And 
if  it  did,  yet  other  terms  are  more  peculiarly  appropriate 
to,  and  mo.st  expressly  point  out,  this  very  change  alone ;  as 
that  of  conversion,  or  of  turning  to  God ;  of  being  renewed 
in  the  spirit  of  the  mind ;  of  putting  off  the  old  man  that 
is  corrupt  by,  &c.  and  putting  on  the  new  man,  which  is 
created  in  righteousness  andtrueholiness,&c.  of  partaking 
the  Divine  nature.  It  matters  not  if  this  or  that  ex- 
pression be  understood  by  some,  more  principally  in 
another  sense,  the  thing  itself,  of  which  we  speak,  is  as 
clearly  expressed,  and  as  urgently  pressed,  (as  there  was 
cause)  as  any  other  matter  whatsoever  throughout  the 
whole  book  of  God.  But  men  are  slower  of  belief,  as 
to  this  great  article  of  the  Christian  doctrine,  than  to 
most  (I  might  say  any)  other.  This  truth  more  directly 
assaults  the  strong  holds  of  the  devil  in  the  hearts  of  men, 
and  is  ofmore  immediate  tendency  to  subvert  his  kingdom; 
therefore  they  are  most  unwilling  to  have  it  true,  and  most 
hardly  believe  it.  Here  they  are  so  madly  bold,  as  to  give 
the  lie  to  all  divine  revelations ;  and  though  they  are  never 
so  plainly  told  without  holiness  none  shall  see  God,  they 
will  yet  maintain  the  contrary  belief  and  hope,  till  "  Go,  ye 
cursed,"  vindicate  the  truth  of  God,  and  the  flame  of  hell 


i  Psal  1.  k  P.sal.  Ii. 

m  2  Tor.  V.  17.  n  Eph.  iv.  23,  24. 

p  Gal.  iv.  19.    2  Pet.  i.  1.     1  Pet.  i.    Joto  iii.  S. 


1  Eph 


o  Jam.  i.  18. 


Chap.  XII. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


229 


be  their  eternal  confutation.  Lord  I  that  so  plain  a  thing 
will  not  enter  into  the  hearts  of  men  ;  that  so  urgent  incul- 
cations will  not  yet  make  them  apprehend  that  their  souls 
must  be  renewed  oi"  perish!  that  they  will  still  go  dream- 
ing on  with  that  mad  conceit,  that  (whatever  the  word  of 
God  says  to  the  contrary)  they  may  yet  with  unsanctified 
hearts  get  to  heaven  !  How  deplorable  is  the  case,  when 
men  have  no  other  hope  left  them,  but  that  the  God  of 
truth  will  prove  false,  and  belie  his  word ;  yea,  and  over- 
turn the  nature  of  things  to  save  them  in  their  sins  !  Thou 
that  livest  imder  the  gospel,  hast  thou  any  pretence  for 
thy  seeming  ignorance  in  this  matter  1  couldst  thou  ever 
look  one  quarter  of  an  hour  into  the  Bible,  and  not  meet 
with  some  intimation  of  this  truth?  What  was  the  ground 
of  thy  mistake  1  What  hath  beguiled  thee  into  so  mischiev- 
ous a  delusion"?  How  could  such  an  imagination  have 
place  in  thy  soul :  that  a  child  of  wrath  by  nature  could 
become  a  child  of  God  without  receiving  a  new  nature  ; 
that  so  vast  a  change  could  be  made  in  thy  stale,  without 
any  at  all  in  the  temper  of  thy  spirit. 

Secondly,  Consider,  that  this  change  is  in  its  own  nature, 
and  the  design  of  God  who  works  it,  dispositive  of  the  soul 
for  blessedness.'  Tis  sufficiently  evident  from  the  consider- 
ation of  the  state  itself  of  the  unrenewed  soul,  that  a  change 
is  necessary  for  this  end  ;  such  a  soul  in  which  it  is  not 
wrought,  when  once  its  drowsy,  stupifying  slumber  is 
shaken  off,  and  its  reflecting  power  awakened,  must  needs 
be  a  perpetual  torment  to  itself.  So  far  it  is  removed  from 
blessedness,  it  is  its  own  hell,  and  can  fly  from  misery  and 
death  no  faster  than  from  itself  Blessedness  composes 
the  soul,  reduces  it  to  a  consistency ;  it  infers,  or  rather  is, 
a  self-satisfaction,  a  well-pleasedness  and  contentment 
with  one's  self,  enriched  and  filled  with  the  Divine  ful- 
ness. Hence  'tis  i  at  rest,  not  as  being  pent  in,  but  content- 
edly dwelling  with  itself,  and  keeping  within  its  own 
bounds  of  its  o^vn  accord.  The  unrenewed  soul  can  no  more 
contain  itself  within  its  own  terms  or  limits,  is  as  little  self- 
consistent,  as  a  raging  flame,  or  an  impetuous  tempest.  In- 
deed its  own  lusts  perpetually,  as  so  man}'  vultures,  rend  and 
tear  it ;  and  the  more  when  they  want  external  objects :  then 
as  hunger,  their  fury  is  all  turned  inward  ;  and  they  prey 
upon  intestines,  upon  their  own  subject ;  but  unto  endless 
torment,  not  satisfaction.  In  what  posture  is  this  soul  for 
rest  and  blessedness  1  The  nature  of  this  change  sufficiently 
speaksitsown  design.  'Tis  an  introduction  of  the^jriraor^^m, 
the  very  principles,  of  blessedness.  And  Scripture  as  plainly 
speaks  the  design  of  God  -j  He  regenerates  to  the  unde- 
filed  inheritance ;  makes  meet  for  it ;  works,  forms,  or 
fashions  the  soul  unto  that  self-same  thing,  viz.  to  desire 
and  groan  after  that  blessed  state  ;  and  consequently  to 
acquiesce  and  rest  therein.  Therefore,  vain  man,  that 
dreamest  of  being  happy  without  undergoing  such  a  change ; 
how  art  thou  trying  thy  skill  to  abstract  a  thing  from  itself! 
for  the  pre-required  righteousness  whereunto  thou  must  be 
changed,  and  this  blessedness,  are  in  kind  and  nature  the 
same  thing,  as  much  as  a  child  and  a  man.  Thou  pretend- 
est  thou  wouldst  have  that  perfected  which  thou  canst  not 
endure  should  ever  be  begun  ;  thou  settest  thyself  to  pre- 
vent and  suppress  what,  in  its  own  nature,  and  by  divine 
ordination,  tends  to  the  accomplishment  of  thy  own  pre- 
tended desires.  Thou  wouldst  have  the  tree  without  ever 
admitting  the  seed  or  pl-ant:  thou  wouldst  have  heat,  and 
canst  not  endure  the  least  warmth :  so  besotted  a  thing  is 
a  carnal  heart ! 

Thirdly,  That  inasmuch  as  this  blessedness  consists  in 
the  satisfactory  sight  and  participation  of  God's  own  like- 
ness, unto  wham  the  soul  is  habitually  averse,  this  change 
must  chiefly  stand  in  its  becoming  holy  or  godly,  or  in  the 
alteration  o£  its  dispositions  and  inclinations  as  to  God. 
Otherwise  the  design  and  end  of  it  is  not  attained.  We 
are  required  to  follow  peace  with  all  men,  (but  here  the 
accent  is  put,)  and  holincxs,  without  which  no  man  shall 
see  God,  Heb.  xii.  14.  'Tis  therefore  a  vain  thing,  in  re- 
ference to  what  we  have  now  under  consideration,  viz.  the 
possibility  of  attaining  this  blessedness,  to  speak  of  any 
other  changes  that  fall  short  of,  or  are  of  another  kind  from, 
the  right  disposition  of  heart  Godward.  This  change  we 
are  now  considering,  is  no  other  than  the  proper  adequate 

rlPer.  i.  3,  4.    2Cor.  V.  «.    Col.  i.  12. 

19 


impress  of  the  gospel  di.scovery  upon  men's  spirits,  as  we 
have  largely  shown  the  righteousness  is,  in  which  it  termi- 
nates. The  sum  of  that  discovery  is,  that  God  is  in  Christ 
reconciling  the  world  unto  himself,*  the  proper  import  of 
it,  therefore,  is  the  actual  reconciliation  of  the  soul  to  God 
through  Christ;  a  friendly  well-affected  posture  of  spirit 
towards  God,  our  last  end  and  highest  good  ;  and  towards 
Christ,  our  only  way,  since  the  apostacy,  of  attaining  and 
enjoying  it.  To  rest  therefore  in  any  other  good  disposi- 
tions or  endowments  of  mind,  is  as  much  besides  the  bu- 
siness, as  impertinent  to  the  present  purpose,  a.s  if  one  de- 
signed to  the  government  of  a  city,  should  satisfy  himself 
that  he  hath  the  skill  to  play  well  on  a  lute,  or  he  that 
intends  physic,  that  he  is  well  seen  in  architecture.  The 
general  scope  and  tenour  of  the  gospel  tells  thee,  O  man, 
plainly  enough,  what  the  busines-s  is  thou  must  intend  (if 
thou  wilfully  overlook  it  not)  in  order  to  thy  blessedne.s.s 
'Tis  wriuen  to  draw  thee  into'  fellowship  with  the  Father 
and  the  Son,  that  thy  joy  may  be  full.  It  aims  at  the 
bringing  of  thee  into  a  state  of  blessedness  in  God  through 
Christ;  and  is  therefore  the  instrument  by  which  God 
would  form  thy  heart  thereto  ;  the  seal  by  which  to  make 
the  first  impression  of  his  image  upon  thee,  which  will 
then  as  steadily  incline  and  determine  thy  soul  towards 
him,  as  the  magnetic  touch  a.scertains  the  posture  of  the 
needle.  Wherefore  doth  he  there  discover  his  own  heart, 
but  to  melt,  and  win,  and  transform  thine  ?  The  word  of 
grace  is  the  seed  of  the  new  creature.  Through  the  ex- 
ceeding great  and  precious  promises,  he  makes  souls  par- 
take of  the  Divine  nature.  Grace  is,  firstly,  revealed  la 
teach  the  denial  of  ungodliness,  &c.  Turn  thy  thoughts 
hither  then,  and  consider  what  is  there  done  upon  thy 
soul  by  the  gospel  to  attemper  and  conform  it  to  God  1 
Wherein  has  thy  heart  answered  this  its  visible  design  and 
intendment  1  Thou  art  but  in  a  delirious  dream  till  thou 
seriously  bethinkest  thyself  of  this.  For  otherwise  how 
can  the  aversion  of  thy  heart  from  him  escape  thy  daily 
observation  1  Thou  canst  not  be  without  evidences  of  it. 
What  pleasure  dost  thou  take  in  retirmg  thyself  with  God ; 
what  care  to  redeem  time  only  for  converse  with  him  1 
hadst  thou  not  rather  be  any  where  elsel  In  a  lime  of 
vacancy  from  business  and  company,  when  thou  hast  so 
great  a  variety  of  things  before  thee,  among  which  to  choose 
an  object  for 'thy  thoughts,  do  they  not  naturally  fall  upon 
any  thing  rather  than  God  1  Nor  do  thou  think  to  shift 
ofi"  this  by  assigning  the  mere  natural  cause;  for  if  there 
were  not  somewhat  more  in  the  matter,  why  is  it  noi  so 
with  all  ?  He  upon  whom  this  change  had  passed  could 
say,"  My  soul  shall  be  satisfied  as  with  marrow  and  fat- 
ness; and  my  mouth  shall  praise  thee  with  joyful  lips, 
when  I  remeriiber  thee  upon  my  bed,  and  meditate  on  thee 
in  the  night-watches.';  My  meditation  of  him  shall  be 
sweet ;  I  will  he  glad  in  the  Lord.y  How  precious  are 
thy  thousfhts  unto  me,  O  God !  how  great  is  the  sum  of 
them  !  If  I  should  count  them,  they  are  more  in  number 
than  the  sand ;  when  I  awake,  I  am  still  with  iliee.^  Yea, 
in  the  way  of  thy  judgments,  O  God,  have  we  wailed  for 
thee;  the'desire  of  our  soul  is  to  thy  name,  and  to  the  re- 
membrance of  thee.  With  my  soul  have  I  desired  thee  in 
the  night,  yea,  with  my  spirit  "within  me  will  I  seek  thee 
earlv,  &c.  "Therefore  plain  it  is,  there  is  a  sinful  distemper 
to  be  wrought  out,  an  ungodly  disposition  of  heart,  which 
it  concerns  thee  not  to  rest  till  thou  see  removed. 

Fourihlv,  Consider,  that  to  become  godly,  or  this  change 
of  inclinations  and  dispositions  towards  God,  is  that  which 
of  all  other  the  soul  doth  most  strongly  reluctate  and 
strive  against ;  and  which  therefore  it  undergoes  Avilh 
greatest  difficulty  and  regret.  'Tis  a  horrid  and  amazing 
thing  it  should  be  so,  but  Scripture  and  experience  leave 
it  undoubted  that  so  it  is.  What !  that  the  highest  excel- 
lency, the  most  perfect  beauty,  loveliness,  and  love  itself, 
should  so  little  attract  a  reasonable,  spiritual  being  that 
issued  thence  1  His  o\m  offspring  so  unkind  !  what  more 
than  monstrous  unnaturalness  is  this,  so  to  disafleot  one's 
own  original!  'Twere  ea^jMo  accumulate  and  heap  up 
considerations  that  would  renderthis  aslonishiugly  strange. 
So  things  are  reckoned  upon  several  accounts,  either  as 
thev  are  more  rare  and  unfrequent,  (which  is  the  vulgar 


1 1  John  i.  1 — t. 

y  Psal.  cxxxix.  17,  19. 


u  Psal.  Lviii.  B,  6. 


X  FsaL  civ.  34. 
:  ba.  xiri.  1 


230 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


Chap.  XII. 


way  of  estimating  wonders,)  or  as  Iheir  causes  are  of  more 
difficult  investigation  ;  or  (if  they  are  moral  wonders)  as 
they  are  more  imreasonable  or  causeless.  Upon  this  last 
account,''  Christ  marvelled  at  the  Jews'  unbelief;  and  so 
is  this  hatred  justly  marvellous;  as  being  t altogether 
without  a  cause.  But  thence  to  infer  there  is  no  such 
thing,  were  to  dispute  against  the  sun.  No  truth  hath 
more  of  light  and  evidence  in  it,  though  none  more  of  ter- 
ror and  prodigy.  To  how  many  thousand  objects  is  the 
mind  of  man  indifferent ;  can  turn  iiself  to  this  or  that ;  nm 
with  facility  all  points  of  the  compass,  among  the  whole 
universe  of  beings :  but  assay  only  to  draw  it  to  God,  and  it 
recoils  ;  thoughts  and  affections  revolt,  and  decline  all  con- 
verse with  that  blessed  object !  Towards  other  objects  it 
freely  opens  and  dilates  itself,  as  under  the  benign  beams 
of  a  warm  sun:  there  are  placid,  complaceutial  emotions; 
amicable,  sprightly  converses  and  embraces.  Towards 
God  only  it  is  presently  contracted  and  shut  up  ;  life  retires, 
and  it  becomes  as  a  stone,  cold,  rigid,  and  impenetrable: 
the  quite  contrary  to  what  is  required,  (which  also  those 
veiy  precepts  do  vainly  imply,)  'tis  alive  to  sin,"^  to  the 
world,  to  vanity ;  but  crucified,  mortified,  dead  to  God  and 
Jesus  Christ. 

The  natures  of  many  men  that  are  harsh,  fierce,  and 
savage,  admit  of  many  cultivations  and  refinings ;  and  by 
moral  precept,  the  exercise  and  improvement  of  reason, 
with  a  severe  animadvei'sion  and  observance  of  themselves, 
they  become  mild,  tractable,  gentle,  meek.  The  story  of 
the  physiognomist's  guess  at  the  temper  of  Socrates  is 
knowTi.  But  of  all  other,  the  disaffected  soul  is  least  incli- 
nable ever  to  become  good-natured  towards  God,  wherein 
grace  or  holiness  doth  consist.  Here  'tis  most  unpersuad- 
able, never  facile  to  this  change.  One  would  have  thought 
no  affection  should  have  been  so  natural,  so  deeply  in- 
wrought into  the  spirit  of  man,  as  an  affection  towards  the 
Father  of  spirits;  but  here  he  most  of  all  discovers  himself 
to  be  without  natural  affection  :  surely  here  is  a  sad  proof, 
that  such  affection  doth  not  ascend.  The  whole  duty  of 
man,  as  to  the  principle  of  it,  resolves  into  love.  That  is 
the  fulfilling  of  the  law.  As  to  its  object;  the  two  tables 
divide  it  bet  ween  God  and  our  neighbour ;  and  accordingly 
divide  that  love.  Upon  those  two  branches  whereof,  love 
to  God,  and  love  to  our  neighbour,  hang  all  the  law  and 
the  prophets.  The  wickedness  oi^  the  world  hath  killed 
this  love  at  the  very  root,  and  indisposed  the  nature  of 
man  to  all  exercises  of  it,  either  way,  whether  towards 
God  or  his  neighbour.  It  hath  not  only  rendered  man 
unmeet  for  holy  communion  with  God,  but  in  a  great 
measure  for  civil  society  with  one  another.  It  hath  de- 
stro3'ed  good  nature :  made  men  false,  envious,  barbarous ; 
turned  the  world,  especially  the  dark  places  of  the  earth, 
where  the  light  of  the  gospel  shines  not,  into  habitations 
of  cruelty.  But  who  sees  not  the  enmity  and  disaffection 
of  men's  hearts  towards  God,  is  the  more  deeply  rooted 
and  less  superable  evill 

The  beloved  apostle  gives  us  a  plain  and  sad  intimation 
how  the  case  is,  as  to  this,  when  he  reasons  thus ;  He  that 
loveth  not  his  brother  whom  he  hath  seen,  how  can  he 
love  God  whom  he  hath  not  seen  1  He  argues  from  the 
less  to  the  greater ;  and  this  is  the  ground  upon  which  his 
argument  is  built,  that  the  loving  of  God  is  a  matter  of 
gj-eater  difficulty,  and  from  which  the  spirit  of  man  is  more 
remote,  than  loving  of  his  neighbour.  And  he  withal  in- 
sinuates an  account  why  it  is  so,  God's  remoteness  from 
our  sense,  which  is  indeed  a  cause,  but  no  excuse  :  it  is  a 
peccant,  faulty  cause.  For  is  our  so  gross  sensuality  no 
sin  1  that  nothing  should  affect  our  hearts,  but  what  we 
can  see  with  our  eyes  1  as  if  our  sense  were  the  only  mea- 
sure or  judge  of  excellencies.  We  are  not  all  flesh :  what 
have  we  done  with  our  souls "?  If  we  cannot  see  God  with 
our  eyes,  why  do  we  not  with  our  minds'?  at  least  so  much 
of  him  we  might,  as  to  discern  his  excellency  above  all 
things  else.  How  come  our  souls  to  lose  their  dominion, 
and  to  be  so  slavishly  subject  to  a  ruling  sense  1  But  the 
reason  less  concerns  our  present  purpose ;  that  whereof  it 
is  the  reason,  that  implied  assertion,  that  men  are  in  a 
less  disposition  to  the  love  of  God  than  their  neighbours, 


a  Mark  vi.  s. 
r  P.om  vi.  11. 
e  Chap.  V.  2. 


b  John  XV.  25. 
d  I  Johii  ui.  H. 


is  the  sad  truth  we  are  now  considering.  There  are  certain 
homiletical  virtues  that  much  adorn  and  polish  the  nature 
of  man,  urbanit}',  fidelity,  justice,  patience  of  injuries,  com- 
passion towards  the  miserable,  &c.  and  indeed  without  these, 
the  world  would  break  up,  and  all  civil  societies  disband  ; 
if  at  least  they  did  not  in  some  degree  obtain.  But  in  the 
mean  time  men  are  at  the  greatest  distance  imaginable 
from  any  disposition  to  society  with  God.  They  have  some 
love  for  one  another,  but  none  for  him.  And  yet  it  must 
be  remembered,  that  love  to  our  neighbour,  and  all  the 
consequent  exertions  of  it,  becoming  duty  by  the  divine 
law,  ought  to  be  performed  as  acts  of  obedience  to  God, 
and  therefore  ought  to  grow  from  the  stock  and  root  of  a 
divine  love  ;  I  mean,  love  to  God.  They  are  otherwise  but 
spurious  virtues,  bastard  fruits,  (men  gather  not  grapes  of 
thorns,  &c.)  they  grow  from  a  tree  of  another  kind  ;  and 
whatever  semblance  they  may  have  of  the  true,  they  want 
their  constituent  form,  their  life  and  soul.  Though  dlove 
to  the  brethren  is  made  a  character  of  the  regenerate  state, 
of  having  passed  from  death  to  life  ;  'tis  yet  but  a  more 
remote,  and  is  itself  brought  to  trial  by  this  higher  and 
more  immediate  one,  and  which  is  more  intimately  con- 
natural to  the  new  creature,  even  the  love  of  God  ;  «By 
this  we  know  we  love  the  children  of  God,  when  we  love 
God,  and  keep  his  commandments.  A  respect  to  God 
f  specifies  every  virtue  and  duty.  Whatever  is  loved  and 
served,  and  not  in  him  and  for  him,  {servato  or  dine  finis,  as 
the  school  phrase  is,)  becomes  an  idol;  and  that  love  and 
service  is  idolatry.  And  what  a  discovery  is  here  of  dis- 
affection to  God  ;  that  in  the  exercise  of  such  (the  above- 
mentioned)  virtues,  one  single  act  shall  be  torn  from  itself, 
from  its  specifying  moral  form,  only  to  leave  out  him.  A 
promise  shall  be  kept,  but  without  any  respect  to  God, 
for  even  the  promises  made  to  him  are  broken  without  any 
scruple.  That  which  is  another's  shall  be  rendered  to  him; 
but  God  shall  not  be  regarded  in  the  business.  An  alms 
given,  for  the  Lord's  sake  left  out.  That  which  concerns 
my  neighbour  often  done,  but  what  concerns  God  therein, 
as  it  were,  studiously  omitted.  This  is  what  he  that  runs 
may  read,  that  though  the  hearts  of  men  are  not  to  one 
another  as  they  should,  they  are  much  more  averse  to- 
wards God. 

Men  are  easier  of  acquaintance  towards  one  another, 
they  slide  insensibly  into  each  other's  bosoms ;  even  the 
most  churlish,  morose  natures,  are  wrought  upon  by  as- 
siduous repeated  kindnesses,  (gutta  cavat  lapidem,)  &c.  as 
often-falling  drops  at  length  wear  and  work  into  very 
stones  ;  towards  God  their  hearts  are  more  impenetrable 
than  rocks,  harder  than  adamants.  He  is  seeking  with 
some  an  acquaintance  all  their  days :  they  live  their  whole 
age  under  the  gospel,  and  yet  are  never  won.  They 
hearken  to  one  another,  but  are  utterly  unpersuadable  to- 
wards God ;  as  the  deaf  adder  that  hears  not  the  voice  of 
the  charmer,  though  charming  never  so  wisely.  The 
clearest  reason,  the  most  powerful  arguments,  move  them 
not ;  no  nor  the  most  insinuative  allurements,  the  sweetest 
breathings  of  love :  s"  Howoften  would  I  have  gathered  thee, 
as  the  hen  her  chickens  under  her  wings,  and  ye  would  not." 
God  draws  with  the  cords  of  a  man,  with  the  bands  of  love ; 
but  they  still  perversely  keep  at  an  unkind  distance.  Men 
use  to  believe  one  another,  (were  there  no  credit  given  to 
each  other's  words,  and  some  mutual  confidence  in  one  ano- 
ther, there  could  be  no  human  converse,  all  must  affect  soli- 
tude, and  dwell  in  dens  and  deserts  as  wild  beasts,)  but 
how  incredulous  are  they  of  all  divine  revelations,  though 
testified  with  never  so  convincing  evidence  !  Who  hath 
believed  our  report !  The  word  of  the  eternal  God  is  re- 
garded (O  amazing  wickedness)  as  we  would  the  word  of 
a  child  or  a  fool ;  no  sober,  rational  man,  but  his  narrations, 
promises,  or  threatenings,  are  more  reckoned  of  Men  are 
more  reconcilable  to  one  another  when  enemies,  more 
constant  when  friends.  How  often  doth  the  power  of  a 
conquering  enemy,  and  the  distress  of  the  conquered,  work 
a  submission  on  this  part,  and  a  remission  on  that.  How 
often  are  haughty  spirits  stooped  by  a  series  of  calamities, 
and  made  ductile ;  proud  arrogants  formed,  bj''  necessity 
and  misery,  into  humble  supplicants,  so  as  to  lie  prostrate 

f  Proinde  Wrtute.s  quas  sil>i  \'idetnr  hat)ore,  nisi  ad  Deumretulcrit,  etiam  iosa 
ntia  suntpotius  qnam  virtutes.     Aug.  de  Civit.  Dei,  1.  19.  r.  25. 
i;  Matt,  xxiii.  37.  See  Psal.  Ix.vxi.  8—13.  Prov.  i.  »)— w,  &c.  Hos.  jii.  4. 


Chap.  XII. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


231 


at  the  feet  of  a  man  that  may  help  or  hurt  them ;  while 
still  the  same  persons  retain  indomitable  unyielding  spirits 
towards  God,  under  their  most  afflictive  pressure.  Though 
his  gracious  nature  and  infinite  fulness  promise  the  most 
certain  and  liberal  relief,  'tis  the  remotest  thing  from  their 
thoughts  to  make  any  address  to  him.  hThey  cry  because 
of  (he  oppression  of  the  mighty,  but  none  says.  Where  is 
God  my  Maker,  who  giveth  songs  in  the  night  1  rather 
perish  under  their  burthens  than  look  towards  God,  when 
his  own  visible  hand  is  against  them,  or  upon  them,  and 
their  lives  at  his  mercy;  they  stand  it  out  to  the  last 
breath;  and  are  more  hardly  humbled  than  consumed; 
sooner  burn  than  weep;  shrivelled  up  into  ashes  sooner 
than  melted  into  tears;  i scorched  with  great  heat,  yet  re- 
pent not  to  give  glory  to  God ;  gnaw  their  tongues  for 
pain,  and  yet  still  more  disposed  to  blaspheme  than  pray 
or  sue  for  mercy.  Dreadful  thought !  As  to  one  another 
reconciliations  among  men  are  not  impossible  or  unfre- 
quent,  even  of  mortal  enemies;  but  they  are  utterly  im- 
placable towards  God !  Yet  they  often  wrong  one  another: 
but  they  cannot  pretend  God  ever  did  them  the  least 
wrong,  yea,  they  have  lived  by  his  bounty  all  their  days. 
They  say  to  God,  "  Depart  from  us,"  yet  he  filleth  their 
houses  with  good  things.  So  true  is  the  historian's  i<  obser- 
vation, "  Hatred  is  sharpest  where  most  unjust." 

Yea,  when  there  seems  at  least  to  have  been  a  recon- 
ciliation wrought,  are  treacheries,  covenant  breakings, 
revolts,  strangeness,  so  frequent  among  men  towards  one 
another,  as  from  them  towards  God  1  How  inconsistent 
with  friendship  is  it,  according  to  common  estimate,  to  be 
always  promising,  never  performing ;  upon  any  or  no  oc- 
casion to  break  off  intercourses,  by  unkind  alienations  or 
mutual  hostilities ;  to  be  morose,  reserved  each  to  other ; 
to  decline  or  disaffect  each  other's  converse;  to  shut  out 
one  another  from  their  hearts  and  thoughts.  But  how 
common  and  unregretted  are  these  carriages  towards  the 
blessed  God  !  It  were  easy  to  expatiate  on  this  argument, 
and  multiply  instances  of  this  greater  disaffection.  But  in 
a  word,  what  observing  person  may  not  see,  what  serious 
person  would  not  grieve  to  see,  the  barbarous  sooner  put- 
ting on  civility;  the  riotous,  sobriety;  the  treacherous, 
fidelity;  the  morose,  urbanity;  the  injurious,  equity;  the 
churlish  and  covetous,  benignity  and  charity ;  than  the  un- 
godly man,  piety  and  sincere  devotedness  unto  God  1  Here 
is  the  principal  wound  and  distemper  sin  hath  infected 
the  nature  of  man  with  :  though  he  have  suffered  a  uni- 
versal impairment,  he  is  chiefly  prejudiced  in  regard  of  his 
habitude  and  tendency  towards  God,  and  what  concerns 
the  duties  of  the  first  table.  Here  the  breach  is  greatest, 
and  here  is  the  greatest  need  of  repair.  True  it  is,  an 
inoffensive,  winning  deportment  towards  men,  is  not 
without  its  excellency,  and  necessity  too.  And  it  doth 
indeed  unsufferably  reproach  Christianity,  and  unbecome 
a  disciple  of  Christ;  j^ea,  it  discovers  a  man  not  to  be 
led  by  his  Spirit,  and  so  to  be  none  of  his;  to  indulge 
himself  in  immoral  deportments  towards  men ;  to  be  un- 
dutiful  towards  superiors ;  unconversable  towards  equals ; 
oppressive  towards  inferiors  ;  unjust  towards  any.  Yet  is 
a  holy  disposition  of  heart  towards  God  most  earnestly 
and  in  the  first  place  to  be  endeavoured,  (which  will  then 
draw  on  the  rest,)  as  having  in  it  highest  equity  and  ex- 
cellency, and  being  of  the  most  immediate  necessity  to  our 
blessedness. 

Fifthly,  Consider,  that  there  may  be  some  gradual  ten- 
dencies, or  fainter  essays,  towards  godliness,  that  fall  short 
of  real  godliness,  or  come  not  up  to  that  thorough  change 
and  determination  of  heart  Godward,  that  is  necessary  to 
blessedness.  There  maj''  be  a  returning,  but  not  to  the 
Most  High, I  and  wherein  men  maybe  (as  the  prophet  im- 
mediately subjoins)  like  a  deceitful  bow,  not  fully  bent,  that 
will  not  reach  the  mark;  they  come  not  home  to  God. 
Many  may  be  almost  persuaded,  and  even  within  reach  of 
heaven,  not  far  from  the  kingdom  of  God ;  may  seek  to 
enter,  and  not  be  able ;  their  hearts  being  somewhat  in- 
clinable, but  more  averse  ;  for  they  can  onlv  be  unable  as 
they  are  unwilling.  The  soul  is  in  no  possibility  of  taking 
up  a  complacential  rest  in  God,  till  it  be  brought  to  this, 

h  Job  xxxv.  i  Rpv.  \\i. 

k  Tacitus  speaking  of  the  hatred  of  Tilx'rius  und  Augiista  against  Gemiaiii- 
eus,  the  causers  whereof,  saith  he,  wcro  acriorcs,  tjuia  iniquie. 


to  niove  toward  him  spontaneously,  and  with,  as  it  were,  a 
self-motion.  And  then  is  it  self-moved  towards  God,  when 
its  preponderating  bent  is  towards  him.  As  a  ma.ssy  stone 
that  one  attempts  to  displace,  if  it  be  heaved  at  till  it  pre- 
ponderate, it  then  moves  out  by  its  own  weight;  other- 
wise it  reverts,  and  lies  where  and  as  it  did  before.  So  'tis 
with  many  men's  hearts,  all  our  lifting  at  them  is  but  the 
rolling  of  the  returning  stone;  they  are  moved,  but  not  re- 
moved :  sometimes  they  are  lifted  at  in  the  public  ministry 
of  the  word;  sometimes  by  a  private,  sea.sonable  admo- 
nition ;  sometimes  God  makes  an  affliction  his  minis- 
ter ;  a  danger  startles  them;  a  sickness  shakes  thern  ;  and 
they  think  to  change  their  course:  but  how  soon  do  they 
change  those  thoughts,  and  are  where  they  were  !  What  en- 
lightenings  and  convictions,  what  awakenings  and  terror, 
what  remorses,  what  purposes,  what  tastes  and  reli.shes, 
do  some  find  in  their  own  hearts,  that  yet  are  blasted  and 
come  to  nothing !  How  many  miserable  abortions  after 
travailing  pangs  and  throes,  and  fair  hopes  of  a  happy  birth 
of  the  new  creature !  Often  somewhat  is  produced  that 
much  resembles  it,  but  is  not  it.  No  gracious  principle  but 
may  have  its  counterfeit  in  an  ungracious  heart;  whence 
they  deceive  not  others  onh',  but  themselves,  and  think  verily 
they  are  true  converts  while  they  are  yet  in  their  sins.  How 
many  wretched  souls,  that  lie  dubiously  struggling  a  long 
time  under  the  contrary  alternate  impressions  of  the  gos- 
pel on  the  one  hand,  and  the  present  evil  world  on  the 
other;  and  give  the  day  to  their  own  sensual  inclinations 
at  last!  In  some  degree,™  escape  the  corruptions  of  the 
world,  by  the  knowledge  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus 
Christ,  but  are  again  entangled  and  overcome,  so  as  their 
latter  end  is  worse  than  their  beginning.  Such  a  man  is 
so  far  from  being  advantaged  by  his  former  faint  inclina- 
tions towards  God,  that  he  M'ould  be  found  at  last  under 
this  aggravated  wickedness  beyond  all  other  men ;  that 
when  others  wandered  from  God  through  inadvertency 
and  inconsideration,  this  man  will  be  found  to  have  been 
his  enemy  upon  deliberation,  and  against  the  various 
strivings  of  his  convinced  heart  to  the  contrary.  This  is 
more  eminent!}^  victorious  and  reigning  enmity ;  such  a 
one  takes  great  pains  to  perish.  Alas  'lis  not  a  slight 
touch,  an  overly  superficial  tincture,  some  evanid  senti- 
ments of  piety,  a  few  good  thoughts  or  wishes,  that  be- 
speak a  new  man,  a  new  creature.  'Tis  a  thorough  pre- 
vailing change,  that  quite  alters  the  habitual  posture  of  a 
man's  soul,  and  determines  it  towards  God,  so  as  that  the 
after-course  of  his  life  may  be  capable  of  that  denomina- 
tion, a  living  to  God,  a  living  after  the  spirit ;  that  exalts 
the  love  of  God  into  that  supremacy  in  him,  that  it  be- 
comes the  governing  principle  of  his  life,  and  the  reason 
and  measure  of  his  actions;  that  as  he  loves  him  above  all 
things  else,  better  than  his  own  life,  so  he  can  truly  (though 
possibly  sometimes  with  a  doubtful,  trembling  heart)  re- 
solve the  ordinary  course  of  his  daily  walking  and  practice 
into  that  love,  as  the  directive  principle  of  it.  1  pray.  I 
read,  1  hear,  because  I  love  God.  I  desire  to  be  just, 
sober,  charitable,  meek,  patient,  because  I  lore  God. 
This  is  the  perfection  and  end  of  the  love  of  God,  (there- 
fore that  must  needs  be  the  principle  hereof.)  obedience  to 
his  will.n  Herein  appears  that  power  of  godliness  de- 
nied (God  knows)  by  too  many  that  have  the  form :  the 
spirit  of  lov^e,  power,  and  of  a  sound  mind.  That  only  is 
a  sound  mind  in  which  such  love  rules  in  such  power. 
Is  not  love  to  God  often  pretended  by  such  that,  whenever 
it  comes  to  an  actual  competition,  discover  they  love  their 
ovm  flesh  a  great  deal  more"?  that  seldom  ever  cross  their 
own  wills  to  do  his,  or  hazard  their  own  fleshly  interest  to 
promote  his  interest  1  We  may  justly  say.  (as  the  apostle, 
in  a  case  fitly  enough  reducible  hither,)"  how  dwells  the 
love  of  God  in  that  man"?  Notwithstanding  such  a  sub- 
dued ineffectual  love  to  God,  such  a  one  shall  be  denomi- 
nated and  dealt  with  as  an  enemy.  'Tis  not  likely  any  man 
on  earth  hates  God  so  perfectly  as  those  in  hell.  And  is  not 
every  quality,  not  yet  perfect  in  its  kind,  and  that  is  yet  grow- 
ing more  and  more  intense,  in  the  meantime  allayed  by 
some  degree  of  its  contrarj'"?  Yet  that  over-masicred  de- 
gree denominates  not  its  subject,  nor  ought  a  man  from 


1  Hos.  \'ii.  16. 

n  John  ii.  5.  TtrfXfiojrai. 


m  SPet.  il 

o  8  Tim.  iii.  5.  chap.  J. 


239 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


Chap.  XII. 


such  a  supposed  love  to  God  to  have  the  name  of  a  lover 
of  him.  That  principle  is  only  capable  of  denominating 
the  man,  that  is  prevalent  and  practical,  that  hath  agovern- 
ing  influence  on  his  heart  and  life.  He  in  whom  the  love 
of  God  halh  not  such  power  and  rule,  whatever  his  fainter 
inclinations  may  be,  is  an  ungodly  man. 

And  now  melhinks  these  several  considerations  com- 
pared and  weighed  together,  should  contribute  something 
to  the  settling  of  right  thoughts  in  the  minds  of  secure 
sinners,  touching  the  nature  and  necessity  of  this  heart- 
change;  and  do  surely  leave  no  place  for  the  foremen- 
tioned  vain  pretences  that  occasioned  thera.  For  (to  give 
you  a  summary  view  of  what  hath  been  propounded  in 
those  foregoing  considerations)  it  now  plainly  appears, — 
That  the  holy  Scripture  requires  in  him  that  shall  enjoy 
this  blessedness,  a  mighty  change  of  the  very  temper  of 
his  soul,  as  that  which  must  dispose  him  thereto;  and 
which  must  therefore  chiefly  consist,  in  the  right  framing 
of  his  heart  towards  God;  towards  whom  it  is  most 
fixedly  averse,  and  therefore  not  easily  susceptible  of  such 
a  change.  And  that  any  slighter  or  more  feeble  inclina- 
tion toward  God  will  not  serve  the  turn ;  but  such  only 
whereby  the  soul  is  prevalently  and  habitually  turned  to 
him.  And  then  what  can  be  more  absurd  or  unsavoury, 
what  more  contrary  to  Christian  doctrine,  or  common 
reason,  than  instead  of  this  necessary  heart-change,  to  in- 
sist upon  so  poor  a  plea,  as  that  mentioned  above,  as  the 
only  ground  of  so  great  a  hope  1  How  empty  and  frivo- 
lous will  it  appear  in  comparison  of  this  great  soul-trans- 
forming change,  if  we  severally  consider  the  particulars  of 
it.  As  for  orthodoxy  in  doctrinals,  'tis  in  itself  a  highly 
laudable  thing;  and  in  respect  of  the  fundamentals  (for 
therefore  are  they  so  called)  indispensably  necessary  to 
blessedness.  As  that  cannot  be  without  holiness,  sonor 
holiness  without  truth.?  But,  (besides  that  this  is  that 
which  every  one  pretends  to,)  is  every  thing  which  is  ne- 
cessary sufftcienf?  As  to  natural  necessity,  (which  is  that 
we  now  speak  to,)  reason  and  intellectual  nature  are  also 
necessary;  shall  therefore  all  men,  yea,  and  devils  too,  be 
saved  1  Besides,  are  you  sure  you  believe  the  grand  arti- 
cles of  the  Christian  religion'l  Consider  a  little, — the 
grounds  and  effects  of  that  pretended  faith. 

First,  Its  grounds.  Every  assent  is  as  the  grounds  of  it 
are.  Deal  truly  here  with  thy  soul.  Can  you  tell  where- 
fore you  are  a  Christian  1  What  are  thy  inducements  to  be 
of  this  religion!  are  they  not  such  as  are  common  to  thee 
with  them  that  are  of  a  false  religion?  (I  am  here  hap- 
pily prevented  by  a  worthy  author,<i  to  which  I  recommend 
thee,  but  at  the  present  a  little  bethink  thyself,)  Is  it  not 
possible  thou  mayest  be  a  Christian  for  the  same  reasons 
for  which  one  may  be  a  Jew,  or  a  Mahometan,  or  a  mere 
pagan?  as,  f  z^.education,  custom,  law,  example,  outward  ad- 
vantage, &c.  Now  consider,  if  thou  find  this  upon  inquiry 
to  be  thy  case,  the  motives  of  thy  being  a  Christian  admit 
of  being  ca.st  together  into  this  form  of  reasoning.  That 
religion  which  a  man's  forefathers  were  of,  which  is  estab- 
lished by  law,  or  generally  obtains  in  the  countrv  where 
he  lives,  the  profes.sion  whereof  most  conduces  to',  or  best 
consists  with,  his  credit,  and  other  outward  advantages, 
that  religion  he  is  to  embrace  as  the  true  religion.  But 
such  I  find  the  Christian  religion  to  be  to  me;  therefore, 
/  &:c.  The  proposition  here  is  manifestly  false ;  for  it  con- 
tains grounds  common  to  all  religions,  publicly  owned, 
and  professed  throughout  the  world ;  and  sure  all  cannot 
be  true  :  and  hence  the  conclusion  (though  materially 
considered  it  be  true,  yet)  formally  considered,  as  a  con- 
clusion issuing  from  such  premises,  must  needs  be  false. 
And  what  then  is  become  of  the  orthodoxy;  when,  as  to 
the  formal  object  of  thy  faith,  thou  believest  but  as  Maho- 
metans and  pagans  do?  when  thou  art  of  this  faith,  by 
fate  or  chance  only,  not  choice  or  rational  inducement? 

Next,  as  to  the  effects  of  thy  faith:  let  them  be  inquired 
into  also,  and  they  will  certainly  bear  proportion  to  the 
grounds   of  it.     The>-   Gospel    is   the  power  of  God  to 

p  John  xvii  17.  q  Mr.  Pink's  Trial  of  sincere  love  to  Christ. 

r  Rom.  1.  10.  1  Thes.  u.  la  s  Heb.  vi.  t  Rom.  vi.  17. 

u  Matt    \ix.  X  1  .John  vi. 

y  That  moral  incapacity  is  also  in  some  sense  tnilv  natural,  that  is,  in  the 
M-iiie  scn-se  vvliPrfin  wp  are  said  to  be  by  nature  the  childrrn  of  WTatli,  Eph.  ii.  3. 
Theretnre  human  natme  miL-st  be  considered  as  created  by  God.  and  a^  pro- 
Pasa'ed  by  man.  In  tlu-  fomipr  sen.se,  as  God  is  the  author  of  it.  'tis  taken  in 
this  distinction,  of  moral  and  natural  impotoQcv,  which  needs  not  furtlier  expli- 


salvation  to  every  one  that  believes ;  to  them  that  believe 
it  not,  it  signifies  nothing.  The  word  of  God  received 
with  a  divine  faith,  as  the  word  of  God,  works  effectually 
upon  all  that  so  receive  it,  i.  e.  all  that  believe.  What 
such  efficacious  workings  of  it  hast  thou  felt  upon  thy 
soul  1  Certainly,  its  most  connatural  efl^ect  is  that  very 
change  of  heart,  and  inclination  Godward,  of  which  we 
have  been  speaking.  What  is  so  suitable  to  the  gospel- 
revelation,  as  a  good  temper  of  heart  Godward  ?  Ani 
how  absurd  is  it  to  introduce  the  cause  on  purpose  to  ex- 
clude its  genuine  inseparable  effect!  But  evident  it  fs, 
(though  true  faith  cannot,)  that  superficial,  irrational  assent, 
in  wliich  alone  many  glory,  may  too  well  consist  with  a 
disaffected  heart  towards  God  :  and  can  it  then  signify 
any  thing  towards  thy  blessedness  ?  Sure  to  be  so  a  solifi- 
dian  is  to  be  a  nullifidian.  Faith  not  working  by  love  is 
not  faith  ;  at  least  profits  nothing.  For  thy  outward  con- 
formity in  the  solemnities  of  worship,  'tis  imputable  to  so 
corrupt  motives  and  principles,  that  the  thing  itself,  ab- 
stractively considered,  can  never  be  thought  characteristical 
and  distinguishing  of  the  heirs  of  blessedness.  The  worst 
of  men  may  perform  the  best  of  outward  duties.  Thy 
most  glorious  boasted  virtues,  if  they  grow  not  from  the 
proper  root,  love  to  God,  they  are  but  splendid  sins,  a.s 
above  appears,  and  hath  been  truly  said  of  old.  Thy  re- 
pentance is  either  true  or  false ;  if  true,  it  is  that  very 
change  of  mind  and  heart  I  speak  of,  and  is  therefore 
eminently  signalized  by  that  note,  'tis  repentance  towards 
God;  if  false,  God  will  not  be  mocked.  For  thy  regene- 
ration in  baptism ;  "  what  can  it  avail  thee,  as  to  this 
blessedness,  if  the  present  temper  of  thy  heart  be  unsuit- 
able thereto?  Didst  thou  ever  know  any  that  held,  that 
all  the  baptized  should  be  saved  ?  Will  thy  infant  sanc- 
tity excuse  the  enmity  and  disaffection  to  God  of  thy 
riper  age? 

In  short,  if  we  seclude  this  work  of  God  upon  the  soul, 
how  inconsiderable  is  the  difference  between  the  Christian 
and  the  heathen  world!  Wherein  can  it  then  be  under- 
stood to  lie,  but  in  some  ineffectual  notions,  and  external 
observances?  And  can  it  be  thought  that  the  righteous, 
holy  God,  will  make  so  vast  a  difference  in  the  states  of 
men  hereafter,  who  differ  so  little  here?  or  that  it  shall  so 
highly  recommend  a  man  to  God,  that  it  was  his  lot  to  be 
born,  and  to  have  lived  upon  such  a  turf  or  soil,  or  in  such 
a  clime  or  part  of  the  world  ?  His  gracious  providence 
is  thankfully  to  be  acknowledged  and  adored,  ihat  hath 
assigned  us  our  stations  under  the  Gospel :  but  then  it 
must  be  remembered,  the  Gospel  hath  the  goodness,  not  of 
the  end,  but  of  the  means ;  which,  as  by  our  improvement 
or  non-improvement,  it  becomes  effectual  or  ineffectual, 
doth  acquit  from,  or  aggravate,  condemnation  :  and  that  it 
works  not  as  a  charm  or  spell,  we  know  not  how,  or  why, 
or  when  we  think  not  of  it ;  but  by  recommending  itself, 
in  the  demonstration  and  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  to  our 
reason  and  consciences,  to  our  wills  and  affections,'  till  we 
be  delivered  up  into  the  mould  or  form  of  it.  Surely 
were  it  so  slight  a  matter,  as  too  many  fondly  dream,  that 
must  distinguish  between  them  that  shall  be  saved  and 
shall  perish,  there  would  need  no  striving  to  enter  in  at  the 
strait  gate ;  and  the  disciple's  question  would  never  have 
been,  Who  then  shall  be  saved?  but  rather.  Who  shall  not 
be  saved?  nor  would  it  have  been  resolved  by  our  Saviour 
into  the  immediate  power  of  him  alone,"  to  whom  all 
things  are  possible,  that  any  are  saved  at  all;  nor  have 
been  so  earnestly  asserted  by  him,  that  "none  could  come 
to  him  hut  whom  his  Father  draws.  The  obvious  import 
of  which  passages  is  such,  that  if  careless  sinners  could 
once  obtain  of  themselves  seriously  to  consider  them, 
methinks  they  would  find  little  rest  in  their  spirits,  till 
they  might  discern  a  work  wrought  there,  in  some  degree 
worthy  of  God ;  an  impression  some  way  proportionable  to 
the  power  of  an  almighty  arm,  and  that  might  speak  God 
its  author.  For  notwithstanding  the  soul's  natural  capa- 
cities before  asserted  and  inferred,  its  y  moral  incapacity, 

cation  ;  yet  you  may  take  this  account  of  it  from  Dr.  Twisse.  Impofenfia  fa- 
ciendi  (|uod  Deo  pratum  est  et  acreiitinn.  non  est  impotentia  natur<e,  sed monun. 
Nulla  eteiiim  nol)is  doest  facultas  natune  per  peocalum  originale,  juxta  iUud 
Augustini ;  Nnlli  agnoscendie  veritatis  abstulit  facultatem.  Adhuc  rpmanet 
potentia,  qua  facerc  possiuniL<  qua'Cimiuie  voliunus.  Vind  I.  3.  errat.  9.  sect.  6. 
Naturalem  potentiani,  quidlriiet  ap'ndi  pro  arhilrio  iiwonmi.  dicimiis  ad  omne3 
transmitti,  non  autem  potentiani  moraaera.  Vindic.  Criminal.  3.  S.  1.  diia-.  i 
chap.  3. 


ClIAP.  XIII. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


233 


I  mean  its  wicked  aversion  from  God,  is  such  as  none  but 
God  himself  can  overcome.  Nor  is  that  aversion  the  less 
culpable,  for  that  it  is  so  hardly  overcome,  but  the  more. 
'Tis  an  aversion  of  will;  and  who  sees  not,  that  every 
man  is  more  wicked,  accordin;^  as  his  will  is  more  wick- 
edly bent  1  Hence  his  impoteucy  or  inability  to  turn  to 
God,  is  not  such  as  that  he  cannot  turn  if  he  would"?  but 
it  consists  in  this,  that  he  is  not  willing.  He  afiectsa  dis- 
tance from  Gud.  Which  shows  therefore  the  necessity 
still  of  this  change.  For  the  possibility  of  it,  and  the  en- 
couragement (according  to  the  methods  wherein  God  is 
wont  to  dispense  his  grace)  the  sinner  hath  to  hope  and 
endeavour  it,  will  more  fuly  fall  into  consideration  else- 
where. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


Fourth  Inference.  That  the  soul  in  wliieh  such  a  change  is  wrought,  rest- 
lessly pursues  this  blessedness  til!  it  he  attained.  Fitlh  Inference.  That  the 
knowing  of  God,  and  conformity  to  him,  are  satisfying  things,  and  do  now 
in  a  degree  satisfy,  according  to  the  measure  wherein  they  are  attained. 
Sixth  Inference.  That  the  love  of  God  towards  his  people  is  great,  tliat  hath 
designed  for  them  so  great,  and  even  a  satisfying  good. 

4.  Infer.  'Tis  further  to  be  inferred,  that  a  soul  wherein 
such  a  change  is  wrought,  pursues  this  blessedness  with 
restless,  supreme  desire,  till  it  attain  to  the  fulness  thereof. 
We  have  here  a  plainly  implied  description  of  the  posture 
and  tendency  of  such  a  soul  (even  of  a  sanctified  holy  soul, 
which  had  therefore  undergone  this  blessed  change)  to- 
wards this  state  of  blessedness.  I  shall  (saith  he)  be  satis- 
fied with  thy  likeness,  q.  d.  I  cannot  be  satisfied  other- 
wise. We  have  seen  how  great  a  change  is  necessary  to 
dispose  the  soul  to  this  blessedness,  which  being  once 
wrought,  nothing  else  can  satisfy  it.  Such  a  thing  is  this 
blessedness ;  (I  speak  now  of  so  much  of  it  as  is  previous 
and  conducing  to  satisfaction,  or  of  blessedness  mate- 
rially considered,  the  Divine  glory  to  be  beheld  and  par- 
ticipated;) 'tis  of  that  nature,  it  makes  the  soul  restless, 
it  lets  it  not  be  quiet,  after  it  hath  got  some  apprehension 
of  it,  till  it  attain  the  full  en]0}^ment.  The  whole  life  of 
such  a  one,  is  a  continual  seeking  God's  face.  So  at- 
tractive is  this  glory  of  a  subject  rightly  disposed  to  it : 
while  others  crave  corn  and  wine,  this  is  the  sum  of  the 
holy  soul's  desires,  ^  Lord,  lift  thou  up  the  light  of  thy 
countenance,  &c.  The  same  thing  is  the  ol)ject  of  its  pre- 
sent desires  tliat  shall  be  of  its  eternal  satisfaction  and  en- 
joyment. This  is  now  its  one  thing,  the  request  insisted 
on,  bto  behold  the  beauty  of  the  Lord,  &c.  and  while  in 
any  measure  it  doth  so,  3''et  'tis  still  looking  for  his  blessed 
hope,  still  hoping  to  be  like  him,  see  him  as  he  is.  The 
expectation  of  satisfaction  in  this  state,  implies  the  restless 
working  of  desire  till  then;  for  what  is  this  satisfaction, 
but  the  fulfilling  of  our  desires,  the  perfecting  of  the  soul's 
motions  in  a  complacential  rest?  Motion  and  rest  do  ex- 
actly correspond  each  to  other.  Nothing  can  naturally 
rest  in  any  place,  to  which  it  was  not  before  naturally  in- 
clined to  move.  And  the  rest  is  proportionably  more  coiu- 
posed  and  steady,  according  as  the  motion  was  stronger 
and  more  vigorous.  By  how  much  the  heavier  any  body 
is,  so  much  the  stronger  and  less  resistible  is  its  motion 
downward  :  and  then  accordingly  it  is  less  moveable  when 
it  hath  attained  its  resting  place.  'Tis  therefore  a  vanity 
and  contradiction,  to  .speak  of  the  soul's  being  satisfied  in 
that  which  it  was  not  before  desirous  of.<=  And  that  state 
which  it  shall  ultimatel}'^  and  eternally  acquiesce  in,  (with  a 
rest  that  must  therefore  be  understood  to  be  most  composed 
and  sedate,)  towards  it  must  it  needs  move  M'ith  the 
strongest  and  most  unsatisfied  desire,  a  desire  that  is  su- 
preme, prevalent,  and  triumphant  over  all  other  desires, 
and  over  all  obstructions  to  itself;  least  capable  of  diver- 
sion, or  of  pitching  upon  any  thing  short  of  the  term  aimed 
at.  Ask  therefore  the  holy  soul.  What  is  thy  supreme  de- 
sire 1  and  so  far  as  it  understands  itself,  it  must  answer, 
"To  see  and  partake  the  Divine  glory;  to  behold  the 
blessed  face  of  God,  till  his  likeness  be  transfused  through 
all  my  powers,  and  his  entire  image  be  perfectly  formed  in 

aPsal.  iv.  bPsal.  xxvii. 

c  Apliludinally.  I  mean,  and  ex  hyi)Othe=i,  i.  e.  supposina  the  knowledge  of 
the  object :  otherwise  as  to  actual  explicit  desires,  God  doth  give  ua  beyond 


me :  present  to  my  view  what  else  you  will,  I  can  be  satis- 
fied in  nothing  else  but  this."  Therefore  this  leaves  a 
black  note  upon  those  wretched  souls  that  are  wtiolly  stran- 
gers to  such  desires;  that  would  be  better  satisfied  to 
dwell  always  in  dust;  that  shun  the  blessed  face  of  God 
as  hell  iuself ;  and  to  whom  the  most  despicable  vanity  is 
a  more  desirable  sight  than  that  of  Divine  glor}'.  Miser- 
able souls !  Consider  your  state :  can  that  be  your  blessed- 
ness which  you  desire  notl  or  do  j'ou  think' God  will  re- 
ceive any  into  his  blessed  presence,  to  whom  it  shall  be  a 
burden!  Methink.s,  upon  the  reading  of  this  3-ou  should 
presently  doom  3'ourselves,  and  see  your  sentence  written 
in  your  breast.  Compare  your  hearts  with  this  holj' 
man's;  see  if  there  be  any  thing  like  this  in  the  temper  of 
your  spirits ;  and  never  think  well  of  yourselves  till  you 
find  it  so. 

5.  Infer.  The  knowledge  of  God,  and  conformity  to 
him,  are  in  their  own  nature  apt  to  satisfy  the  desires  of 
the  soul,  and  even  now  actually  do  so,  in  the  meeisure 
wherein  they  are  attained.  Some  things  are  not  of  a  satis- 
fying nature;  there  is  nothing  tending  to  satisfaction  in 
them.  And  then  the  continual  heaping  together  of  such 
things,  doth  no  more  towards  satisfaction,  than  the  accu- 
mulating of  mathematical  points  would  towards  the  com- 
pacting of  a  solid  body;  or  the  multiplication  of  c\-phers 
only,  to  the  making  of  a  sum.  But  what  shall  one  day 
satisfy,  hath  in  itself  a  power  and  aptitude  thereto.  The 
act,  whenever  it  is,  supposes  the  power.  Therefore  tite 
hungry  craving  soul,  that  would  fain  be  happy,  but  knows 
not  how,  needs  not  spend  its  days  in  making  uncertain 
guesses,  and  fruitless  attempts  and  trials:  it  may  fix  its 
hovering  thoughts;  and  upon  assurance  here  given,  say,  I 
have  now  found  at  la.st  where  satisfaction  ma}- be  had; 
and  have  only  this  to  do,  to  bend  all  my  powers  hither, 
and  intend  this  one  thing,  the  possessing  myself  of  this 
ble.ssed  rest ;  earnestly  to  endeavour,  and  patiently  to  wait 
for  it.  Happy  discovery !  welcome  tidings!  I  now  know 
which  way  to  turn  my  eye,  and  direct  my  pursuit.  I  shall 
no  longer  spend  myself  in  dubious,  toilsome  wanderiiig.s, 
in  anxious,  vain  inquiry.  I  have  found!  I  have  found J 
blessedness  is  here.  If  I  can  but  get  a  lively,  eflicacious 
sight  of  God,  I  have  enough — Show  me  the  Father,  and 
it  sutiiceth.  Let  the  weary,  wandering  soul  bethink  itself, 
and  retire  to  God;  he  will  not  mock  thee  with  shadows, 
as  the  world  hath  done.  This  is  eternal  life,  to  know  him 
the  only  true  God,  and  Jesus  Christ  whom  he  hath  sent. 
Apart  from  Christ  thou  canst  not  know  nor  see  him  with 
fruit  and  comfort;  but  the  gospel  revelation  (which  is  the 
revelation  of  God  in  Christ)  gives  tliee  a  lovely  prospect  of 
him.  His  gloiy  shines  in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ ;  and 
when  bv  beholding  it  thou  art  changed  into  the  samelike- 
ne.ss,  and  findest  thy.self  graduall^v  changing  more  and 
more  from  glory  to  glory,  thou  wilt  find  thyself  accordingly 
in  a  gradual  tendency  towards  satisfaction  and  blessed- 
ness :  that  is,  do  but  seriously  set  thyself  to  study  and  eon- 
lempla'e  the  being  and  attributes  of  God;  and  then  look 
upon  him  as  through  the  Mediator,  he  is  willing  to  be  re- 
conciled to  thee,  and  become  thy  God ;  and  so  long  let 
thine  eye  fix  and  dwell  here,  till  it  affect  thy  heart,  and  the 
proper  impress  of  the  gospel  be  by  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord 
instamped  upon  it ;  till  thou  find  thyself  wrought  to  a  com- 
pliance with  his  holy  will,  and  his  image  formed  in  ihce; 
and  thou  shalt  soon  experience  thou  art  entering  into  his 
rest ;  and  wilt  relish  a  more  satisfying  pleasure  in  this 
blessed  change,  than  all  thy  worldly,  sensual  enjoyments 
did  ever  afford  thee  before. 

Surelv,  if  the  perfect  vision  and  perception  of  his  glo- 
rious likeness  will  yield  a  complete  satisfaction  at  last,  the 
initial  and  progressive  tendencies  towards  the  former  will 
proportionably  infer  the  latter.  'Tis  obvious  hence  to 
collect,  who  are  in  this  world  (ordinarily  and,  ccrteris pari- 
bus, where  more  unusual  violent  temptations  hinder  not)  the 
most  satisfied  and  contented  persons  ;  even  those  that  have 
most  of  the  clarifying  sights  of  G^d,  and  thence  partake 
most  of  his  image  (incleed  Scripture  only  vouchsafes  the 
name  to  such  sights  of  God;  dHe  that  doth  evil  hath  not 
seen  God.)  Such  as  have  most  of  a  godly  frame  wrought 

what  we  can  ask  or  think.    But  'tis  impossible  the  soul  shmdd  r^t  satisfied  in 
thiit.  which  upon  knowledge  it  is  luidesirous  of,  and  doih  or  woind  rejt-ct. 
d  1  John  iii.  6.  3  Julia  11 


234 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


Chap.  XIII. 


into  their  spirits,  and  that  have  hearts  most  attempered  and 
conformed  to  God ;  these  are  the  most  contented  persons 
in  the  world.  Content  is  part  of  the  gain  that  attends  god- 
liness ;  it  concurring,  renders  the  other  a  great  gain ;  'god- 
liness with  contentment :  the  form  of  expression  discovers 
how  connatural  contentment  is  to  godliness ;  as  if  they 
were  not  to  be  mentioned  apart.  Godliness,  as  if  he  had 
said,  is  a  very  gainful  thing,  but  if  you  would  comprehend 
the  gainfulness  of  it  fully,  do  not  abstract  too  curiously, 
take  in  with  it  that  which  is  of  so  near  an  alliance,  that  you 
will  hardly  know  how  to  consider  them  apart ;  let  its  inse- 
parable adjunct,  contentment,  go  along  with  it,  and  you 
will  find  it  a  gainful  thing  indeed.  The  true  knowledge 
of  God  so  directly  tends  to  holiness,  and  that  to  contcnta- 
tion,  that  it  may  be  too  evidently  concluded,  that  a  dis- 
contented person  hath  little  of  the  one  or  the  other,  not 
much  knowledge,  and  less  grace;  he  is  so  far  from  being 
like  God,  that  in  the  apostle's  language  above  we  may 
say,  he  hath  not  seen  him.  Doth  that  person  know  God, 
or  hath  ever  seen  him,  that  falls  not  into  the  dust,  admir- 
ing so  glorious  a  Majesty!  that  subjects  not  himself  to 
him,  with  loyal  affections,  accounting  it  his  only  grand 
concernment  to  please  and  serve  him  1  But  the  discontented 
person  takes  upon  him,  as  if  he  were  God  alone,  and  as  if 
he  expected  every  creature  to  do  him  homage,  and  thought 
the  creation  were  made  for  the  pleasure  and  service  of 
none  but  him.  Hath  that  person  ever  seen  God,  that 
acknowledges  him  not  a  sufficient  portion,  a  full,  all-com- 
prehending good  1  Hath  he  seen  him,  that  sees  not  reason 
to  trust  him,  to  commit  all  his  concernments  to  himl 
Hath  he  seen  him  that  loves  him  not,  and  delights  not  in 
his  love"?  Hath  he  seen  him  thai  quits  not  all  for  him, 
and  abandons  not  every  private  interest  to  espouse  his? 
And  how  evidently  do  these  things  tend  to  quiet  and  com- 
pose the  soul !  Discontent  proceeds  from  idolizing  thoughts 
of  ourselves  :  'tis  rooted  in  self-conceit,  in  self-dependence, 
self-love,  self-seeking,  all  which  despicable  idols  (or  that 
one  great  idol,  self,  thus  variously  served  and  idolized) 
one  sight  of  the  Divine  glory  would  confound  and  bring 
to  nothing.  The  sights  of  God  melt  the  heart,  break  it 
under  a  sense  of  sin,  and  hence  compose  it  to  a  meek, 
peaceful  humility;  but  the  discontented  spirit  is  an  un- 
broken, proud,  imperious  spirit.  The  sights  of  God  pu- 
rify the  soul,  refine  it  from  the  dross  of  this  vile  world, 
make  it  daily  aspire  to  a  conformity  unto  the  pure  and 
spiritual  nature  of  God.  But  a  discontented  spirit  is  a 
sensual,  terrene  spirit  1  (for  what  but  such  objects  are  the 
usual  matter  of  most  men's  discontents  1)  taking  sensuality 
in  its  just  latitude,  'tis  a  low  dunghill  spirit,  fit  for  nothing 
but  to  rake  and  scrabble  in  the  dirt. 

I  insist  upon  this,  apprehending  (what  deserves  more 
lamentations  than  it  hath  observation)  that  too  many  an- 
nex a  profession  of  eminent  godliness  and  spirituality  to 
an  indulged  querulous,  impatient  temper  of  spirit ;  join  a 
splendid  appearance  of  piety,  to  an  unreformed  perverse 
frowardness  ;  (which  agree  as  well  as  a  jewel  of  gold  to  a 
swine's  snout ;)  nothing  pleases  them,  their  mercies  are  not 
worth  the  acknowledgment ;  their  afflictions  intolerable, 
not  to  be  borne.  They  fall  out  and  quarrel  with  all  occur- 
rences, actions,  events;  neither  man  nor  God  doth  any 
thing  good  in  their  sight.  The  world  is  not  well  governed ; 
nothing  falls  out  well  as  to  themselves.  What  can  possi- 
bly be  thought  on  more  repugnant  to  (he  knowledge  of 
God,  the  grand  design  of  all  religion,  and  the  very  spirit 
of  the  Gospel,  than  this  temper  1  Which  way  do  these 
tend  and  aim,  but  to  lead  souls  to  blessedness ;  to  bring 
them  into  a  peaceful,  happy,  satisfied  state  and  frame  1 
And  must  we,  because  that  end  cannot  be  attained  here, 
therefore  go  the  quite  contrary  way  7  or  pretend  we  are 
going  to  heaven  with  our  backs  turned  upon  it  1  Sure  the 
discoveries  God  now  makes  of  himself  to  us,  and  by  which 
he  impresses  his  likeness  upon  his  own:  (though  they 
ultimately  design  our  satisfaction  and  blessedness  in 
heaven,  as  intermediate  thereunto;)  they  aim  at  the  bring- 
ing us  into  a  heaven  upon  earth ;  to  form  us  unto  a 
life  agreeable,  and  that  hath  analogy  with  that  of  heaven; 
unto  which  nothing  is  more  analogous  in  our  present  state, 
than  that  peace  and  serenity  which  result  from  Divine 
knowledge  and  holiness;  nothing  more  inconsistent,  than 
e  1  Tim.  vi.  6. 


a  peevish,  fretful,  turbulent  spirit.  The  one  is  a  partici- 
pation of  a  bright  and  mild  light  from  heaven ;  the  other, 
of  a  dark  and  raging  fire  from  hell.  'Tis  only  God's  face, 
his  glorious  likeness  reflected  on  our  souls,  that  shall  sa- 
tisfy hereafter,  and  make  heaven  heaven.  He  doth  not 
now  wholly  conceal  himself  from  us,  not  altogether  hide 
his  face.  The  shining  of  the  same  face  (in  what  degree  he 
now  vouchsafes  it)  will  make  this  earth  a  heaven  too. 
One  glance  towards  him  may  transmit  a  lively  pleasant 
lustre  upon  our  spirits, f  they  looked  on  him,  and  were 
lightened.  And  we  live  in  the  expectation  of  clearer  and 
more  impressive  eternal  visions.  It  will  become  us  to  ex- 
press a  present  satisfiedness,  proportionable  to  our  present 
sights  and  expectations ;  and  to  endeavour  daily  to  see 
more,  and  to  be  more  like  God;  that  we  may  be  daily 
more  and  more  satisfied;  while  we  cannot  yet  attain,  to 
be  making  gradual  approaches  towards  that  blessed  state. 
By  how  much  any  have  more  of  the  vision  and  likeness 
of  God  in  their  present  state,  so  much  they  approach 
nearer  unto  satisfaction. 

6.  Infer,  We  infer ;  The  love  of  God  to  his  people  is  great, 
Avhich  hath  designed  for  them  so  great,  and  even  a  satisfying 
good.  We  cannot  overlook  the  occasion  this  doctrine  gives 
us,  to  consider  and  contemplate  awhile  the  love  of  God.  If 
this  shall  be  the  blessedness  of  his  saints,  'tis  a  great  love 
that  shall  be  the  spring  and  source  of  it.  Two  things  here 
before  our  eyes  discover  the  greatness  of  his  love : — thai  it 
designs  satisfaction  to  the  persons  meant ;  and — that  they 
shall  be  satisfied  with  the  Divine  vision  and  likeness. 

1.  It  designs  their  satisfaction.  This  is  as  far  as  love 
can  go.  'Tis  love  to  the  uttermost :  it  doth  not  satisfy  itself 
till  it  satisfies  them.  'Tis  love  to  spare  an  enemy,  to  relieve 
a  stranger;  but  to  satisfy  for  ever  them  that  were  both, 
this  sure  exceeds  all  the  wonted  measures  of  love.  Much 
love  is  shown  in  the  forgiveness  of  sin,  in  the  supply  of 
necessities;  but  herein  (as  the  apostle  speaks  in  another 
case)  is  the  love  of  God  perfected,  as  to  its  exercise:  it 
hath  now  perfectly  attained  its  end,  when  it  hath  not  left 
so  much  as  a  craving  desire,  not  a  wish  unsatisfied ;  the 
soul  cannot  say,  "  I  wish  it  were  better ;  O  that  I  had  but 
this  one  thing  more  to  complete  my  happiness."  It  hath 
neither  pretence  nor  inclination  to  think  such  a  thought. 
Divine  love  is  now  at  rest.  It  was  travailling  (big  with 
gracious  designs)  before  ;  it  hath  now  delivered  itself  It 
would  rather  create  new  heavens  every  moment,  than  not 
satisfy;  but  it  hath  now  done  it  to  the  full;  the  utmost 
capacity  of  the  soul  is  filled  up ;  it  can  be  no  happier  than 
it  is.  This  is  love's  triumph  over  all  the  miseries,  wants, 
and  desires  of  a  languishing  soul :  the  appropriate  peculiar 
glory  of  Divine  love.  If  all  the  excellencies  of  the  whole 
creation  besides  were  contracted  into  one  glorious  creature, 
it  would  never  be  capable  of  this  boast,  I  have  satisfied 
one  soul.  The  love  of  God  leaves  none  unsatisfied,  but 
the  proud  despisers  of  it.  Now  is  the  eternal  sabbath  of 
love.  Now  it  enters  into  rest,  having  finished  all  its 
works ;  it  views  them  over  now  with  delight,  for,  lo !  they 
are  all  good :  its  works  of  pardon,  of  justification,  and  adop- 
tion ;  its  works  of  regeneration,  of  conversion,  and  sanc- 
tification ;  its  establishing,  quickening,  comforting  works ; 
they  are  all  good,  good  in  themselves,  and  in  this  their 
end,  the  satisfaction  and  repose  of  blessed  souls.  Now 
Divine  love  puts  on  the  crown,  ascends  the  throne,  and 
the  many  myriads  of  glorified  spirits  fall  down  about  it 
and  adore ;  all  profess  to  owe  to  it  the  satisfying  pleasures 
they  all  enjoy.  Who  can  consider  the  unspeakable  satis- 
faction of  those  blessed  .spirits,  and  not  also  reflect  upon 
this  exalted  greatness  of  Divine  love ! 

2.  'Tis  again  great  love,  if  we  consider  wherewith  they 
shall  be  satisfied.  The  sight  and  participation  of  the  Di- 
vine glory,  his  face,  his  likeness,  his  represented  and  im- 
pressed glory.  There  may  be  great  love  that  never  under- 
takes nor  studies  to  satisfy  all  the  desires  of  the  persons 
we  cast  our  love  upon,  especially  where  nothing  will  satisfy 
but  high  and  great  matters.  The  love  of  God  knows  no 
difficulties  ;  nor  can  be  overset.  The  greater  the  perform- 
ance or  vouchsafement,  the  more  suitable  to  Divine  love. 
It  hath  resolved  to  give  the  soul  a  plenary  satisfaction, 
perfectly  to  content  all  its  desires;  and  since  nothing  else 
can  do  it,  but  an  eternal  beholding  of  the  glorious  face  of 

f  Psal.  x.\xiv.  6. 


Chap.  XIV. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


235 


the  Divine  Majesty,  and  a  transformation  into  his  own 
likeness,  that  shall  not  be  withheld.  Yea,  it  hath  created 
refined,  enlarged  its  capacity  on  purpose,  that  it  might  be 
satisfied  with  nothing  less.  Great  love  may  sometimes  be 
signified  by  a  glance ;  the  ofl[ered  view  ol'  a  willing  face. 
Thus  our  Lord  Jesus  invites  his  church  to  discover  her 
own  love,  and  answer  his,  Let  me  see  thy  face,  &c.  Cant. 
ii.  14.  Love  is  not  more  becomingly  expressed  or  gratified, 
than  by  mutiial  looks,  iili  amor,  ibi  octilus.  How  great  is 
that  love  that  purposely  lays  aside  the  vail,  that  never 
turns  away  its  own,  nor  permits  the  aversion  of  the  behold- 
er's eye  throughout  eternity.  Now  we  see  in  a  glass ;  then 
face  to  face,  as  if  never  weary  of  beholding  on  either  part; 
but  on  that  part  the  condescension  lies,  is  the  transcendant 
admirable  love.  That  a  generous,  beneficent,  the  other 
(till  it  be  satisfied  here)  a  craving,  indigent  love.  And 
how  inexpressible  a  condescension  is  this !  Poor  wretches ! 
many  of  whom,  possibly,  were  once  so  low,  that  a  strutting 
grandee  would  have  thought  himself  affronted  by  their 
look,  and  have  met  with  threatening  rebukes  their  over- 
daring  venturous  eye  -,  lo,  now  they  are  permitted  (to  stand 
before  princes ;  that's  a  mean  thing)  to  feed  their  eyes  with 
Divine  glory,  to  view  the  face  of  God.  He  sets  them  be- 
fore his  face  for  ever.  And  that  eternal  vision  begets  in 
them  an  eternal  likeness ;  they  behold  and  partake  glory 
at  once,  that  their  joy  may  be  full.  They  behold  not  a 
glorious  God  with  deformed  souls  ;  that  would  render 
them  a  perpetual  abomination  and  torment  to  themselves. 
Love  cannot  permit  that  heaven  should  be  their  affliction ; 
that  they  should  have  cause  to  loath  and  be  weary  of  them- 
selves in  that  presence.  It  satisfies  them,  by  clothing  and 
filling  them  with  glory  ;  by  making  them  partake  of  the 
Divine  likeness,  as  well  as  behold  it.  'Tis  reckoned  a  great 
expression  of  a  complying  love,  but  to  give  a  picture  ; 
when  the  parties  loved  only  permit  themselves  to  view  in 
a  mute  representation  a  vicarious  face.  This  is  much  more 
a  vital  image,  (as  before,)  God's  own  livingness  propagated 
in  the  soul ;  the  inchoation  of  it  is  called  the  Divine  love, 
the  seed  of  God.  What  amazing  love  is  this,  of  the  great 
God  to  a  worm !  not  to  give  over  till  he  have  assimilated 
it  to  his  own  glory;  till  it  appear  as  a  ray  of  light  begotten 
of  the  Father  of  lights !  s  Every  one,  saith  the  apostle,  that 
doth  righteousness  is  born  of  him ;  and  then  it  follows, 
h  behold  what  manner  of  love — to  be  the  sons  of  God  ;  to  be 
like  him,  to  see  him  as  he  is,  &c.  How  great  a  word  is  that 
(spoken  in  reference  to  our  present  state) — >  to  make  us 
partakers  of  his  holiness.  And  (as  well  it  might)  'tis  in- 
stanced as  an  efl^ect  and  argument  of  love,  (for  sure  chas- 
tening itself,  abstracted  from  that  end  of  it,  doth  not  import 
love,)  whom  the  Lord  loveth  he  chasteneth, — and  then  by 
and  by,  in  the  same  series  and  line  of  discourse,  is  added, 
— to  make  us  partakers  of  his  holiness.  Love  alwaj's  either 
supposes  similitude,  or  intends  it;  and  is  sufficiently  argued 
by  it  either  way.  And  sure,  the  love  of  God  cannot  be 
more  directly  expressed,  than  in  his  first  intending  to  make 
a  poor  sonl  like  him,  while  he  loves  it  with  compassion ; 
and  then  imprinting  and  perfecting  that  likeness,  that  he 
may  love  it  with  eternal  delight.  Love  is  here  the  first 
and  the  last,  the  beginning  and  end  in  all  this  busmess. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


7.  Inference.  That  since  tliis  blessedness  is  limited  lo  a  qualified  subject,  "  I 
in  righteousness,"  the  unrighteous  are  necessarily  left  excluded.  8.  Inference. 
That  righteousness  is  no  vain  thing,  ina.smuch  as  it  hath  so  happy  an  issue, 
and  ends  so  well. 

7.  Infer.  Considerino  this  blessedness  is  not  common, 
but  limited  to  a  qualified  subject,  "  I  in  righteousness,"  a 
person  clothed  in  righteousness ;  it  evidently  follows,  the 
unrighteous  are  necessarily  excluded  and  shut  out,  can 
have  no  part  nor  portion  in  this  blessedness.  The  same 
thing  that  the  apostle  tells  us,  without  an  inference ;  "Know 
ye  not  that  the  unrighteous  shall  not  inherit  the  kingdom 
of  God,  &c.  Intimating  that  to  be  a  most  confessed  known 
thing :  know  ye  not  1  is  it  possible  ye  can  be  ignorant  of 
this!  The  natural  necessit}' of  what  hath  been  here  in- 
ferred, hath  been  argued  already  from  the  consideration 
g  1  John  ii.  ult.  h  iii.  1.  i  Ilcb,  .vii. 


of  the  nature  of  this  blessedness.  The  legal  necessity  of 
it,  ari.sing  from  the  Divine  will  and  law,  is  that  I  mamly 
intend  at  present.  By  such  a  necessity  also,  they  are  exclil- 
ded,  who  by  God's  rule  (according  to  which  the  supreme 
judgment  must  be  managed)  shall  be  found  unrighteous: 
those  that  come  not  up  to  the  terms  of  the  gospel-covenant ; 
never  accepted  the  oilers,  nor  submitted  to  the  commands 
of  it ;  and  that  hence  consequently  are  unrelated  to  Christ, 
and  ununited  to  him;  no  way  capable  of  advsmtage  by  his 
most  perfect  and  all-sufficient  righteousness,  that  alone 
fully  answers  all  the  exactions  and  demands  of  the  cove- 
nant of  works  :  and  so,  who  are  at  last  found  unrighteous 
by  the  old  law  and  the  new,  the  law  both  of  the  Creator 
and  Redeemer  too.  There  is  the  same  necessity  these 
should  be  excluded,  as  that  God  should  be  just  and  true. 
The  word  is  gone  forth  of  his  mouth  in  righteou.sness,  and 
cannot  return.  He  did  not  dally  with  sinners,  when  he 
settled  those  constitutions,  whence  this  necessity  results. 
He  is  not  a  man,  that  he  should  lie  ;  nor  the  son  of  man, 
that  he  should  repent.  A  heathen  understood  so  much  of 
the  nature  of  God. 

I  have  thought  sometimes,  with  much  wonder,  of  the 
stupid  folly  of  unsanctified  hearts ;  they  are  even  con- 
founded in  their  own  wishes;  and  would  have  (in  order  to 
their  security)  they  know  not  what.  Were  the  question 
faithfully  put  to  the  very  heart  of  such  a  one,  What 
wouldst  thou  have  done  in  order  to  thy  eternal  .safety  from 
Divine  wrath  and  vengeance  1  would  not  the  answer  be,  O 
that  God  would  re-call  those  severe  constitutions  he  nath 
made;  and  not  insist  so  strictly  on  what  he  halh  required 
in  the  gospel,  in  order  to  the  salvation  of  sinners.  But 
foolish  wrelch  !  dost  thou  know  what  thou  sayest?  wouldst 
thou  have  God  repeal  the  Gospel,  that  thou  rnayst  be  the 
more  secure  1  in  what  a  case  art  thou  then  1  Hast  thouno 
hope  if  the  gospel  stand  in  force  1  what  hope  wilt  thou  have 
if  it  do  not  f  Must  the  hopes  of  all  the  world  be  ruined  to 
establish  thine  1  and  yet  leave  them  involved  in  the  com- 
mon ruin  too  1  What  but  the  go.spel  gives  the  least  hope 
to  apostate  sinners'?  There  is  now  hope  for  thee  in  the 
gospel-promise,  if  thou  return  to  God.  tLet  the  wicked 
forsake  his  way,  and  the  unrighteous  man  his  thoughts - 
and  let  him  turn  to  the  Lord,  and  he  will  have  mercy  upon 
him ;  and  to  our  God,  and  he  will  abundantly  pardon.  But 
take  away  the  gospel,  and  where  art  thou  1  Were  it  pos- 
sible for  thee  to  repent,  and  become  a  new  man  ;  what  set- 
tles the  connexion  between  repentance  and  salvation,  but 
the  gospel-promise  1  Will  the  violated  law  of  works  ac- 
cept thy  repentance  instead  of  obedience  1  Doth  it  not  ex- 
pressly'preclude  any  such  expectation  1  Doth  it  give  any 
ground  to  look  for  any  thing  but  death  after  sin  1  Thou 
must  therefore  fly  to  the  Gospel,  or  yield  th5'self  lo*.t.  And 
know,  it  contains  none  but  faithful  and  true  sayings,  that 
have  more  stability  in  them  than  the  foundations  of  heaven 
and  earth :  therefore  expect  notliing  to  be  altered  for  thy 
sake.  The  gospel-constitution  was  settled  long  before 
thou  wast  born  :  thou  comest  loo  late  with  thy  exceptions 
(if  thou  hadst  any)  asrainst  it.  Remember  therefore  this  is 
one  of  the  ui  alterable  determinations  of  this  gospel,  with- 
out holiness  thou  shall  never  see  God,  or  (which  amounts 
to  the  same)  thou  canst  not  behold  his  face  but  in  right- 
eousness. There  is  no  word  in  all  the  Bible  of  more  cer- 
tain truth  than  this.  In  this  also  how  apt  are  sinners  fool- 
ishly to  entangle  themselves  !  The  Gospel  is  true,  and  to 
be  believed,  till  they  meet  with  something  that  crosses 
them,  and  goes  against  the  hair,  and  then  they  hope  it  is 
not  so.  But  vain  man  !  if  once  thou  shake  the  truth  of  God, 
what  wilt  thou  stay  thyself  upon  1  Is  God  true  when  he 
promises  1  and  is  lie  not  as  true  when  he  threatens?  If 
that  be  a  tnic  saving,  "  Say  to  the  righteous,  it  shall  be 
well  with  him," — is  not  that  as  much  to  be  regarded, 
"  Wo  to  the  wicked,  it  shall  be  ill  with  him  1  The  right- 
eousness of  the  risrhteous  shall  be  upon  him.  and  the  wick- 
edness of  the  wicked  shall  he  upon  him."  Are  not  these  of 
equal  authority  1  If  thoTi  hadst  any  reason  to  hope  tboii 
mayst  be  happy  though  thou  never  be  righteous ;  is  there 
not"  as  much  i-eason^  to  fear  thou  mightst  be  miserable 
though  thou  be ;  since  the  one  is  as  much  against  the  flat 
express  word  of  God  as  the  other"?  Let  not  thy  love  to  sin 
betray  thee  out  of  all  religion  and  thy  wits  together. 
a  1  Cor.  vi.  b  Isa.  Iv. 


336 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OP  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


Chap.  XIV. 


Wherein  wilt  thou  beliere  one  upon  the  bare  value  of  his 
word,  that  will  lie  to  thee  in  any  thing!  Yea,  and  as  it  is 
the  same  authority  that  is  affronted  in  every  command, 
whence  disobedience  to  one  is  a  breach  of  all ;  so  is  the 
same  vera'city  denied  in  every  truth,  and  the  disbelief  of  one 
belies  all;  and  wilt  thou  believe  him  in  any  thing,  thou 
hast  proclaimed  a  liar  in  every  thing  1  Therefore,  so  little 
hast  thou  gained  by  disbelieving  the  divine  revelation  in 
this  thing,  that  thou  hast  brought  thyself  to  this  miserable 
dilemma;  If  the  word  of  God  be  false,  thou  hast  no  fotm- 
datmn  of  any  faith  left  thee ;  if  it  be  true,  it  dooms  thee  to 
eternal  banishment  from  his  blessed  face,  while  thou  re- 
mainest  in  thy  unrighteousness.  It  will  not  be  thy  advan- 
tage then  to  disbelieve  this  gospel-record,  but  to  consider 
it  "and  take  it  to  heart ;  'twill  prove  never  the  less  true  at 
last,  fur  that  thou  wilt  not  believe  it ;  shall  thy  unbelief 
make  the  truth  of  God  of  none  effect  1  And  if  thou  wouldst 
but  reasonably  consider  the  case,  methinks  thou  shouldst 
soon  be  convinced.  Since  thou  acknowledgest  (as  I  sup- 
pose thee  to  do)  that  there  are  two  states  of  men  in  the 
other  world,  a  state  of  blessedness,  and  a  state  of  misery ; 
and  two  sorts  of  men  in  this  world,  the  righteous  and  the 
unrighteous  ;  let  thy  reason  and  conscience  now  judge  who 
shall  be  allotted  to  the  one  state,  and  who  to  the  other. 
Sure,  if  thou  acknowledge  a  righteous  Judge  of  all  to  the 
world,  thou  canst  not  think  he  will  turn  men  piomiscu- 
ously  into  heaven  or  hell  at  random,  without  distinction ; 
much  less  canst  thou  be  so  absurd  and  mad,  as  to  think  all 
the  unrighteous  shall  be  saved,  and  the  righteous  perish. 
And  then  what  is  left  thee  to  judge  but  that  which  I  am 
now  urging  upon  thee,  that  when  the  righteous  shall  be 
admitted  to  the  vision  of  God's  blessed  face,  the  unright- 
eous shall  be  driven  forth  into  outer  darkness. 

It  may  be  some  here  will  be  ready  to  say,  "  But  to  what 
purpose  is  all  this,  they  were  of  the  same  mind  before, 
and  cannot  think  that  any  one  would  ever  say  the  contra- 
ry." Nor  do  I  think  so  either ;  but  'tis  one  thing  not  to  be- 
lieve a  conclusion  to  be  true,  and  another  to  profess  a  con- 
trary belief;  and  one  thing  to  believe  a  conclusion,  ano- 
ther to  think  we  believe  it.  Men  often  know  not  their  own 
minds.  In  practical  matters,  'tis  best  known  what  a  man's 
belief  is  by  his  practice:  for  when  any  profess  to  believe 
this  or  that  practical  truth,  relating  to  their  salvation,  if 
they  believe  it  not  practically,  i-  e.  with  such  a  belief  as 
will  command  their  suitable  practice,  it  matters  not  what 
belief  they  are  of,  or  whether  they  were  of  that  judgment 
or  no:  yea,  it  will  prove  in  the  issue  better  for  them  they 
had  been  of  another,  when  their  own  professed  belief  shall 
be  urged  against  them.  But  let  us  consider  a  little,  how  in 
practical  matters  of  less  concernment  we  would  estimate  a 
man's  belief  You  meet  a  traveller  upon  the  way,  who  tells 
you,  the  bridge  over  such  an  unpassable  river  is  broken 
dov/n,  and  that  if  you  venture  you  perish ;  if  you  believe 
him,  you  return  ;  if  you  hold  on,  he  reasonably  concludes 
you  believe  him  not;  and  will  therefore  be  apt  to  say  to 
you,  if  you  will  not  believe  me  you  may  make  trial.  Your 
physician  tells  you  a  disease  is  growing  upon  you,  that  in 
a  short  time  will  prove  incurable  and  mortal,  but  if  you 
presently  use  the  means  he  shall  prescribe,  'tis  capable  of 
an  easy  remedy;  how  would  yoti  yourself  have  your  be- 
lief of  your  physician  judged  of  in  this  case  1  Would  you 
expect  tobe  believed,  if  you  should  say,  you  do  not  at  all  dis- 
trust your  physician's  integrity  and  judgment,  but  yet  you 
resolve  not  to"  follow  his  directions ;  unless  you  would  have 
us  believe  too,  that  you  are  weary  of  your  life,  and  would 
fain  be  rid  of  if?  There  is  no  riddle  or  mystery  in  this. 
How  ridiculous  would  men  make  themselves,  if  in  mat- 
ters of  common  concernment  they  should  daily  practise  di- 
rectly contrary  to  their  professed  belief!  How  few  would 
Believe  them  serious,  or  in  their  wits'?  But  however,  call 
this  believing,  or  what  you  will,  we  contend  not  about  the 
name ;  the  belief  of  such  a  thing  can  no  further  do  you 
pood,  you  can  be  nothing  the  better  for  it,  further  than  as 
it  engages  5^ou  to  take  a  course  suitable  and  consequent  to 
such  a  belief  To  believe  that  there  is  a  hell,  and  run  into 
it;  that  unrighteousness  persisted  in  will  damn  you,  and 
yet  will  live  in  it.  To  what  purpose  is  it,  to  make  your 
boasts  of  this  faith  1  But  since  you  are  willing  to  call  this 
believing:  all  the  foregoing  reasoning  is  to  engage  you  to 

c  Job  XXXV, 


consider  what  you  believe.  Do  you  believe  that  unright- 
eousness will  be  the  death  of  your  soul ;  will  eternally  se- 
parate you  from  God,  and  the  presence  of  his  glory  1  and 
when  you  have  reasoned  the  matter  with  yourself,  you  find 
it  to  be  certainly  so :  should  not  ':ach  a  thing  be  more 
deeply  pondered  1  The  bare  proposal  of  an  evident  truth 
commands  present  assent ;  but  if  I  further  bend  my  mind 
to  reason  out  the  same  thing  to  myself,  I  am  occasioned 
to  take  notice  of  the  grounds,  dependencies,  the  habitudes 
of  it,  what  it  rests  upon,  and  whither  it  tends,  and  thence 
more  discern  its  importance,  and  of  what  moment  it  is, 
than  I  should  have  done,  if  upon  first  view  I  had  Eissented 
only,  and  dismissed  it  my  thoughts.  And  yet  is  it  po.ssi- 
ble,  you  should  think  this  to  be  true,  and  not  think  it  a 
most  important  truth  1  Is  it  a  small  matter  in  your  ac- 
count, whether  you  shall  be  blessed  or  miserable  for  ever! 
whether  you  be  saved  or  perish  eternally  !  Or  is  it  consi- 
dered by  you,  according  as  the  weight  of  the  matter  re- 
quires, that  as  you  are  found  righteous  or  rmrighteous,  so 
will  it  everlastingly  fare  with  you  1 

You  may  possibly  say,  you  already  conclude  yourself 
righteous,  therefore  no  further  employ  your  thoughts  about 
it.  But  methinks,  you  should  hardly  be  able  however  to 
put  such  a  thing  out  of  your  thoughts ;  while  as  yet  the 
final  determination  is  not  given  in  the  case.  If  a  man  have 
a  question  yet  depending,  concerning  his  life  or  estate ; 
though  his  business  be  never  so  clear,  he  will  hardly  forget 
it,  the  trial  not  being  yet  past.  And  though  in  this  matter, 
you  have  no  reason  to  suspect  error  or  corruption  in  your 
Judge,  (through  which  many  honest  causes  may  miscarry 
in  a  human  judicature,)  yet  have  you  no  reason  to  suspect 
yourself!  If  the  Holy  Spirit  hath  assured  you,  it  hath  not 
stupified  you;  but  as  you  have  then  the  less  of  fear,  you 
have  the  more  of  love  and  joy.  Therefore  you  will  not 
thence  mind  such  a  concernment  the  less,  but  with  the 
more  delight ;  and  therefore  also,  most  probably,  with  the 
more  frequency  and  intension.  What  a  pleasure  will  it 
be  to  review  evidences,  and  say,  Lo!  here  are  the  medi- 
ums by  which  I  make  out  my  title  to  the  eternal  inherit- 
ance. Such  and  such  characters  give  me  tne  confidence  to 
number  myself  among  God's  righteous  ones.  And  do  you 
lead  that  heavenly  raised  life  1  do  you  live  in  those  sweet 
and  ravishing  comforts  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  that  may  be.'^]  eak 
you  one  whom  he  hath  sealed  up  to  the  day  of  redemption  1 
If  you  pretend  not  to  any  such  certainty,  but  rely  upon  your 
own  judgment  of  your  case  ;  are  you  sure  you  are  neither 
mistaken  in  the  notion  of  the  righteousness  required,  nor 
in  the  application  of  it  to  )'^our  own  soul  1  Possibly,  you 
may  think  yourself,  because  in  your  ordinar}^  dealing  you 
wrong  no  man,  (yourself  being  judge,)  a  very  righteous 
person.  But  evident  it  is,  when  the  Scripture  uses  this  term 
as  descriptive  of  God's  own  people,  and  to  distinguish  be- 
tween them  that  shall  be  saved  and  perish,  it  takes  it  in 
that  comprehensive  sense  before  explained.  And,  however, 
it  requires  at  least  much  more  of  thee,  under  other  expres- 
sions, as  thou  canst  hardly  be  so  ignorant  but  to  know. 
And  do  but  use  thy  reason  here  a  little,  and  demand  of 
thyself:  Is  he  to  be  accounted  a  righteous  person,  that 
thinks  it  fit  to  avoid  wronging  a  man,  but  makes  no  con- 
science at  all  of  wronging  God  1  More  particularly  :  Is  it 
righteous,  to  live  all  thy  days  in  a  willing  ignorance  of  the 
Author  of  thy  being,  never  once  to  inquire, >=  Where  is  God 
my  Maker  1  Is  it  righteous  to  forget  him  days  without 
number,  not  to  have  him  from  day  to  day  in  all  thy  thoughts'? 
Is  it  righteous  to  estrange  thyself  from  him,  and  live  as 
without  him  in  the  world,  while  thou  livest,  movest,  and 
hast  thy  being  in  him  1  not  to  glorify  him  in  whose  hands 
thy  breath  is  ?  to  be  a  lover  of  pleasure  more  than  God!  a 
worshipper,  in  thy  very  soul,  of  the  creature  more  than  the 
Creator  1  Is  it  righteous  to  harden  thy  heart  against  his 
fear  and  love  "?  to  live  under  his  power,  and  never  reve- 
rence it  1  his  goodness,  and  never  acknowledge  it  1  to  af- 
front his  authority,  to  belie  his  truth,  abuse  his  mercy,  im- 
pose upon  his  patience,  defj'  his  justice ;  to  exalt  thy  own 
interest  against  his  ;  the  trifling  petite  interest  of  a  silly 
worm,  against  the  great  all-comprehending  interest  of  the 
common  Lord  of  all  the  world  1  to  cross  his  will,  to  do  thy 
own  "?  to  please  thyself,  to  the  displeasing  of  him'?  Whence 
hadst  thou  thy  measures  of  justice,  if  this  be  just  1 


Ciup.  XIV. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


237 


Again,  is  it  righteous  to  deny  the  Lord  that  bought  thee, 
to  neglect  that  great  salv^ation  which  he  is  the  author  ol"? 
And  whereas  he  came  to  bless  thee  in  turning  thee  from 
thine  iniquities,  wilfully  to  remain  still  in  an  accursed  ser- 
vitude to  sin?  when  he  was  made  manifest  to  destroy  the 
works  of  the  devil,  still  to  yield  thyself  a  captive  at  his 
will  ■?  Whereas  he  died  that  thou  mighlcst  not  any  longer 
live  to  thyself,  but  to  him  that  died  for  thee,  and  rose 
again;  and  that  he  might  redeem  thee  from  thy  vain  con- 
versation ;  and  that  thou  art  so  expressly  told,  that  such  as 
still  lead  sensual  lives,  mind  earthly  things,  have  not  their 
conversation  in  heaven,  are  enemies  to  the  cross  of  Christ. 
Is  it  no  unrighteousness,  that  in  these  respects  thy  whole 
life  should  be  nothing  else  but  a  constant  contradiction  to 
the  very  design  of  his  dying?  a  perpetual  hostility,  a  very 
tilting  at  his  cross  7  Is  there  no  unrighteousness  in  thy 
obstinate  infidelity,  that  wickedly  denies  belief  to  his  glo- 
rious truths,  acceptance  of  his  gracious  offers,  subjection 
to  his  holy  lawsl  No  mirighteousness  in  thy  obslinate, 
remorseless  impenitency  1  thy  heart  that  cannot  repent  1 
that  melts  not,  while  a  crucified  Jesus,  amidst  his  agonies 
and  dying  pangs,  cries  to  thee  from  the  cross,  O  sinner, 
enough,  thy  hard  heart  breaks  mine  !  yield  at  last,  and  turn 
to  God.  Is  it  righteous,  to  live  as  no  way  under  law  to 
Christ "?  to  persist  in  actual  rebellion  against  his  just  go- 
^'•ernraent,  which  he  died,  and  revived,  and  rose  again,  to 
establish  over  the  livang  and  the  deadl  yea,  and  that 
while  thou.pretendest  thy.self  a  Christian  1  In  a  word  :  Is 
it  righteous  to  tread  imder  foot  the  Son  of  God,  to  vilify 
his  blood,  and  despise  his  Spirit  1  Is  this  the  righteous- 
ness that  thou  talkest  of?  Are  the.se  thy  qualifications  for 
the  everlasting  blessedness  1  If  thou  say,  thou  confessest 
thou  art  in  thyself,  in  these  several  respects,  altogether 
unrighteous,  but  thou  hopest  the  righteousness  of  Christ 
will  be  sufficient  to  answer  for  all ;  no  doubt  Christ's 
righteousness  is  abundantly  available  to  all  the  ends  for 
which  it  was  intended  by  the  Father  and  him;  but  it  shall 
never  answer  all  the  ends  that  a  foolish,  wicked  heart  will 
fondly  imagine  to  itself. 

In  short,  it  serves  to  excuse  thy  non-performance  of, 
and  stands  instead  of  thy  perfect  sinless  obedience  to,  the 
law  of  works;  but  itserv^es  not  instead  of  thy  performance 
of  what  is  required  of  thee,  as  the  condition  of  the  gospel- 
covenant.  That  is,  it  shall  never  supply  the  room  of  faith, 
repentance,  regeneration,  holiness,  the  loving  of  Christ 
above  all,  and  God  in  him;  so  a.s  to  render  these  unneces- 
sary, or  salvation  possible  without  them.  There  is  not 
one  tola  or  little  in  the  Bible,  that  so  much  as  intimates 
an  unregenerate  person,  an  unbeliever,  an  impenitent  or 
unholy  person,  shall  be  saved  by  Christ's  righteousness  ; 
but  enough  to  the  contrary,  everyone  knows,  that  hath  the 
least  acquaintance  with  the  Scriptures.  Vain  man!  what, 
is  Christ  divided,  and  divided  against  himself;  Christ 
without  against  Christ  within  "?  his  sufferings  on  the  cross 
and  foregoing  obedience,  against  his  Spirit  and  govern- 
ment in  the  soul "?  Did  Christ  die  to  take  away  the  neces- 
sity of  our  being  Christians'?  And  must  his  death  serve 
not  to  destroy  sin  out  of  the  world,  but  Christianity  1 
Who  hath  taught  thee  so  wickedly  to  misunderstand  the 
design  of  Christ's  dying  1  And  when  the  Scripture  so 
plainly  tells  thee,  d  that  God  so  loved  the  w^orld,  that  he 
gave  his  only-begotten  Son,  that  whosoever  believeth  in 
him  should  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  life ;  and  •■  that 
he  became  the  author  of  eternal  salvation  to  them  that 
obey  him ;  yea,  and  that  he  will  come  in  flaming  fire 
to  take  vengeance  on  them  that  know  and  obey  him 
not ;  what  should  induce  thee  to  think  thou  mayest  be 
saved  by  him,  whether  thou  believest  and  obeyest  or 
not  ■?  No,  if  ever  thou  think  to  see  God,  and  be  happy 
in  him,  thou  must  have  a  righteousness  in  thee  resembling 
his;  the  very  product,  the  thing  wrought  in  the  work  of 
regeneration,  f  If  ye  know  that  he  is  righteous,  ye  know 
that  every  one  that  doeth  righteousness  is  born  of  him. 
Whereupon  follows  the  description  of  the  blessedness 


d  John  iii.  16. 
K  John  V.  37. 


e  Heb.  v.  9. 
h  Prov.  X.  16. 


fl  Johnii.  29. 
i  Ch.  xi.  14, 18. 


of  such    righteous   ones,   in   the    beginning  of   the  next 

chapter, They   are    sons they   shall   be  like,   &.c. 

So  that  in  a  word,  without  some  sight  oi  God  here,  there 
is  no  seeing  him  hereafter;  without  some  likeness  to  him 
how,  none  hereafter.  And  such  as  are  destitute  of  that 
heart-conformity  to  the  gospel,  wherein  ihe  evangelical 
righteousness  stands,  are  so  far  from  it,  that  we  may  say 
to  them  as  our  Saviour  to  the  Jews,?  Ye  have  neither 
heard  his  voice,  nor  seen  his  shape,  i.  e.  you  have  never 
had  right  notion,  or  any  the  least  true  glimpse  of  him; 
your  hearts  are  wholly  destitute  of  all  divine  impressions 
whatsoever. 

8.  Infer.  We  may  further  infer,  from  this  qualification  of 
the  subject  of  blessedness,  that  righteousness  is  novain 
thing.  That  is  not  in  vain,  that  ends  so  well,  and  ha'th  so 
happy  an  issue  at  last.  Scripture  tells  us,h  that  the  labour 
of  the  righteous  tendeth  to  life :  and  that  we  may  under- 
stand it  of  their  labour  as  they  are  righteous,  we  are  more 
plainly  told,  that  i  righteousness  tendeth  to  life ;  t  and  that 
to  thein  that  sow  righteousness  shall  be  a  sure  reward. 
That  the  righteous  shall  shine  as  the  sun  in  the  kingdom 
of  their  Father.  The  righteous  into  eternal  life,  i  And 
we  here  see  that  righteousness  ends  in  the  bles.sed  sight  of 
God's  glorious  face,  in  being  satisfied  with  the  Divine 
likeness.  Fool-ish  sinners  are  justly  upbraided  that  they 
spend  their  ■"  labour  for  that  which  satisfies  not ;  take 
much  pains  to  no  purpose.  Such  are  all  the  works  of  sin, 
toilsome,  fruitless  :■>  What  fruit  had  ye  of  those  things  {viz. 
which  ye  wrought  when  you  were  free  from  righteousness) 
whereof  ye  are  now  ashamed  ;  for  the  end  of  those  things 
IS  death. "  But  (it  follows)  being  now  made  free  from  sin, 
and  become  servants  to  God,  (which  is  paraphrased  above 
by  servants  to  righteousness,)  ye  have  your  fruit  unto  ho- 
liness, and  the  end  everlasting  life.  The  fruit  is  a  con- 
tinual increase  of  holiness,  a  growing  more  and  more  like 
God  ;  till  at  last  everlasting  life,  satisfaction  with  his  like- 
ness, do  crown  and  consummate  all. 

You  have  now  what  to  answer  to  the  atheist's  profane 
query.  What  profit  is  it  to  serve  Godi  to  what  purpose 
to  lead  so  strict  and  precise  a  life  1  You  may  now  see  to 
what  purpose  it  is  ;  and  whereunto  godliness  (which  right- 
eousness here  includes)  is  profitable,  a*  having,  besides 
what  it  entitles  to  here,  the  promise  of  that  life  which  is 
to  come.  There  needs  no  more  to  discover  any  thing  not 
to  be  vain  (inasmuch  as  nothing  can  be  said  to  be  so, 
but  in  reference  to  an  end,  as  being  good  for  nothing)  than 
the  eviction  of  these  two  things :— that  it  aims  at  a  truly 
worthy  and  valuable  end;  and — that  its  tendency  thereto 
is  direct  and  certain.  In  the  present  case,  both  these  are 
obvious  enough  at  the  first  view.  For  as  to  the  former  of 
them:  all  the  world  will  agree,  without  disputing  the  mat- 
ter, that  the  last  end  of  man  (i.  e.  which  he  ultimately  pro- 
pounds to  himself)  is  his  best  good:  and  that  he  can  de- 
sign no  further  good  to  himself  than  satisfaction  ;  nothing 
after  or  bevond  that :  and  what  can  afford  it,  if  the  vision 
and  participation  of  the  Divine  glory  do  not  1  As  to  the 
latter:  besides  all  that  assurance  given  by  Scriplure-con- 
stitution  to  the  righteous  man,  concerning  his  future  re- 
ward, let  the  consciences  be  consulted  of  the  most  besotted 
sinners,  in  any  lucid  interval,  and  they  will  give  their 
suftYage,  (Balaam,  that  so  earnestly  followed  the  reward 
of  unrighteousness,  not  excepted,)  that  the  way  of  right- 
eousness is  that  only  likely  way  to  happiness ;  and  would 
therefore  desire  to  die,  at  "least,  the  righteous  man's  death, 
and  that  their  latter  end  should  be  like  his.  So  is  wisdom 
(I  might  call  it  righteousness  too;  the  wicked  man  is  the 
Scripture  fool,  and  the  righteous  the  wise  man)  justified 
not  by  her  children  only,  but  by  her  enemies  also.  And 
sure,' 'tis  meet  that  she  should  be  more  openly  justified  by 
her  children,  and  that  they  learn  to  silence  and  repress 
those  misgiving  thoughts;'"  Surely  I  have  washed  my 
hands  in  vain,  &c. ;  and  p  be  steadfast,  unmoveable,  always 
abounding  in  the  work  of  the  Lord,  forasmuch  as  they 
know  their  labour  is  not  in  vain  in  the  Lord. 


k  Matt.  xiii.  13. 
n  Rom.  vi.  20,  21. 


I  Chap.  XXV.  4«. 
o  Psal.  1x301. 


m  Isa.  Iv.  2. 
p  1  Cor.  XV.  58. 


S38 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


Chap.  XV. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Two  other  inferences,  from  the  consideration  of  the  season  of  this  blessedness  : 
The  former,  that  inasmuch  as  this  blessedness  is  not  attained  in  this  life, 
the  present  happiness  of  saints  must  in  a  great  part  consist  in  hope.  The 
latter,  that  great  is  the  wisdom  and  sagacity  of  the  righteous  man,  which 
waives  a  present  temporary  happiness,  and  cliooses  that  which  is  distant  and 
future. 

Inasmuch  as  the  season  of  this  blessedness  is  not  on  this 
side  the  grave,  nor  expected  by  saints  till  they  awake  ;  we 
may  further  infer, 

9.  Infer.  Ninthly,  That  their  happiness  in  the  meantime 
doth  very  much  consist  in  hope ;  or  that  hope  must  needs 
be  of  very  great  necessity  and  use  to  them  in  their  present 
state  for  their  comfort  and  support.  It  were  not  otherwise 
possible  to  subsist  in  the  absence  and  want  of  their  highest 
good,  while  nothing  in  this  lower  world  is,  as  to  kind  and 
nature,  suitable  to  their  desires,  or  makes  any  colourable 
overture  to  them  of  satisfaction  and  happiness.  Others 
(as  the  Psalmist  observes)  have  their  portion  in  this  life ; 
that  good,  which  as  to  the  species  and  kind  of  it,  is  most 
grateful  to  them,  is  present,  under  view,  within  sight ;  and 
(as  the  aposlle^)  Hope  that  is  seen  is  not  hope,  for  what  a 
man  seeth,  why  doth  he  yet  hope  for  it  1  But  those  whose 
more  refined  spirits,  having  received  the  first  fruits  of  the 
Holy  Spirit  of  God,  prompt  them  to  groan  after  something 
beyond  time,  and  above  this  sublunary  sphere ;  of  them 
the  apostle  there  tells  us,  that  they  are  saved  by  hope. 
They  (as  if  he  should  say)  subsist  by  it ;  they  were  never 
able  to  hold  out,  were  it  not  for  their  hope ;  and  that  a 
hope  too,  beyond  this  life,  as  is  the  hope  of  a  Christian  ; 
b  if  in  this  life  only  we  had  hope  in  Christ,  &c.  The  hope 
of  a  Christian,  as  such,  is  suitable  to  its  productive  cause, 
the  resurrection  of  Christ  from  the  dead ;  begotten  to  '^  a 
lively  hope  by  the  resurrection,  &c.  Thence  is  it  the  hope 
of  a  renewed,  never-dying  life,  the  hope  of  a  blessed  im- 
mortality; whereof  Christ's  resurrection  was  a  certain 
argument  and  pledge. 

Indeed  the  new  creature  is,  ab  orighie,  and  all  along,  a 
hoping  creature,  both  in  its  privmvi  and  its  porro  esse  : 
'tis  conceived,  and  formed,  and  nursed  up  in  hope.  In 
its  production,  and  in  its  progress  towards  perfection,  'tis 
manifestly  influenc  d  thereby.  In  the  first  return  of  the 
soul  to  God,  hope,  being  then  planted  as  a  part  of  the  holy, 
gracious  nature,  now  manifestly  discovers  itself;  when  the 
soul  begins  to  act,  (as  turning  after  the  reception  of  the 
Divine  influence  is  its  act,)  hope  insinuates  itself  into  (or 
induces  rather)  that  ver}^  act.  Returning  is  not  the  act  of 
a  despairing,  but  hoping  soul.  'Tis  God  apprehended  as 
reconcilable,  that  attracts  and  wins  it;  while  he  is  looked 
upon  as  an  implacable  enemy,  the  soul  naturally  shuns 
him,  and  comes  not  nigh,  till  drawn  d  with  those  cords  of 
a  man,  the  bands  of  love.  While  it  says.  There  is  no  hope, 
it  says  withal,  (desperately  eaough,) "  I  have  loved  stran- 
gers, and  after  them  will  I  go.  But  if  there  be  any  hope 
in  Israel,  concerning  this  thing :  if  it  can  yet  apprehend 
God  willing  to  forgive,  then  f  Let  us  make  a  covenant,  &c. 
This  presently  draws  the  hovering  soul  into  a  closure  and 
league  with  him.  And  thus  is  the  union  continued,  s  Un- 
Eteadfastness  in  the  covenant  of  God,  is  resolved  into  this 
not  setting  or  fixing  of  hope  in  him ;  or  (which  amounts  to 
the  same)  setting  of  hope  in  God  is  directed  as  a  means  to 
h  steadfastness  of  spirit  with  him,  and  a  keeping  of  his 
covenant.  Revolting  souls  are  encouraged  to  turn  to  the 
Lord  upon  this  consideration,  that  salvation  is  i  hoped  for 
in  vain  from  any  other ;  the  case  being  indeed  the  same  in 
all  after-conversions  as  in  the  first.  God  as  multipljungto 
pardon,  and  still  retaining  the  same  name,k  The  Lord,  the 
Lord  gracious  and  merciful,  (which  name  in  all  the  seve- 
rals  that  compose  and  make  it  up,  is  in  his  Christ,)  invites 
back  to  him  the  backsliding  sinner,  and  renews  his  thoughts 
of  returning.  And  so  is  he  afterwards  under  the  teachings 
of  grace,  led  on  by  hope,  through  the  whole  course  of  re- 
ligion towards  the  future  glory.  Grace  appears,  teaching 
sinners  to  deny  ungodliness,  &c.  and  in  the  i  looking  for 
the  blessed  hope,  the  glorious  appearing  of  the  great  God, 


a  Rom.  viii.  24. 

b  1  Cor.  XV.  19. 

c  1  Pet.  i.  3. 

n  1  John  iii.  3. 

d  Hos.  xi. 

e  Jer.  ii. 

f  Ezra  X.  2,  3. 

(]  1  Thess.  V.  8. 

r  Psal.  Ixxnii.  7,  13. 
K  Exod.  xxxiv.  6. 

h  Vcr.  10. 

i  Jer.  iii.  22,  23. 

s  Hab.  u.  4. 

ITit.  ii.  1),  12,  13. 

m  Rom.  ii.  7. 

u  2  Cor.  iv.  16,  18 

&c.  So  do  they  keep  themselves  in  the  love  of  God,  look- 
ing for  the  mercy  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  unto  eternal 
life.  Thus  is  the  new  creature  formed  in  hope,  and  nour- 
ished in  hope  ;  and  if  its  eye  were  upon  pardon  at  first,  'tis 
more  upon  the  promised  glory  afterwards.  And  yet  that 
last  end  hath  in  a  degree  its  attractive  influence  upon  it, 
from  the  first  formation  of  it ;  'tis  even  then  taught  to  de- 
sign for  glory.  'Tis  begotten  to  the  lively  hope,  (where 
though  hope  be  taken  objectively,  as  the  apposition  shows 
of  the  following  words,  to  an  inheritance,  yet  the  act  is 
evidently  connoted ;  for  the  thing  hoped  for,  is  meant  under 
that  notion,  as  hoped  for,)  and  its  whole  following  course 
is  an  aiming  at  glory;  a'"  seeking  glory,  honour,  immor- 
tality, &c.  Thus  is  the  workof  sanctification  carried  on ;" 
He  that  hath  this  hope  purifieth  himself  Thus  are  losses 
sustained ;  °  The  spoiling  of  goods  taken  joyfully  through 
the  expectation  of  the  better  and  enduring  substance.  The 
most  hazardous  services  undertaken,  even  an  apostleship 
to  a  despised  Chri.st, — p  In  the  hope  of  eternal  life,  which 
God  that  cannot  lie  hath  promised.  All  difficulties  en- 
countered and  overcome,  while  thei  helmet  is  the  hope  of 
salvation.  All  worldly  evils  are  willingly  endured  ;  and  all 
suc/i  good  things  quitted  and  forsaken,  for  Christ's  sake  and 
his  elect's.  And  if  the  question  be  asked,  (as  it  was  once  of 
Alexander,  when  so  frankly  distributing  his  treasures 
among  his  followers,)  What  do  vou  reserve  for  yourself  1 
The  resolved  Christian  makes  (with  him)  that  short  and 
brave  reply,  HOPE.  He  lives  upon  things  future  and  un- 
seen. The  objects  any  one  converses  with  most,  and  in  which 
his  life  is  as  it  were  bound  up,  are  suitable  to  the  ruling 
principles  of  life  in  him.  '  They  that  are  after  the  flesh,  do 
.savour  the  things  of  the  flesh ;  they  that  are  after  the  Spirit, 
the  things  of  the  Spirit.  The  principle  of  the  fleshly  life  is 
sense  :  the  principle  of  the  spiritual  life  is  faith.  Sense  is 
a  mean,  low,  narrow,  incomprehensive  principle,  limited  to 
a  point,  this  centre  of  earth,  and  to  vw,  this  note  of  time ;  it 
can  reach  no  higher  than  terrene  things,  nor  further  than 
present  things  ;  so  brutish  is  the  life  of  him  that  is  ltd  by 
it ;  wholly  confined  to  matter  and  time.  But  the  righteous 
live  by  faith.  Their  faith  governs  and  maintains  their  life. 
They  steer  not  their  course  according  to  what  they  see,  but 
according  to  what  they  believe :  and  their  daily  sustenance 
is  by  the  same  kind  of  things.  Their  faith  influences  not 
their  actions  only,  but  their  comforts  and  enjoyments. 
They  subsist  by  the  things  they  believe,  even  invisible  and 
eternal  things ;  but  it  is  by  the  intervening  exercise  of  hope, 
whose  object  is  the  same.  The  apostle  having  told  us  from 
the  prophet,  that  the  ^  just  shall  live  by  faith,  presently  sub- 
joins a  description  of  that  faith  they  live  by,  I'iz.  that  it  is 
'  the  substance  of  things  hoped  for,  and  the  evidence  of 
things  not  seen;  it  substantiates  and  realizes,  evidences 
and  demonstrates  those  glorious  objects,  so  far  above  the 
reach  and  sphere  of  sense.  It  is  constantly  sent  out  to 
forage  in  the  invisible  regions  for  the  maintenance  of  this 
life;  and  thence  fetches  in  the  provisions  upon  which  hope 
feeds,  to  the  strengthening  of  the  heart,  the  renewing  of  life 
and  spirits.  Our  inward  man,  (saiththe  apostle)"  is  renewed 
day  by  day ;  while  we  look,  or  take  aim  (which  is  next  in 
the  series  of  the  discourse,  for  the  intervening  vei'se  is  ma- 
nifestly parenthetical)  not  at  the  things  that  are  seen,  but 
at  the  things  that  are  not  seen;  for  the  things  that  are  seen 
are  temporal,  but  the  things  that  are  not  seen  are  eternal. 
And  the  word  here  rendered^  ^ooA:  doth  plainly  signify  the 
act  of  hope  as  well  as  that  of  faith ;  for  it  doth  not  import 
a  mere  intuition  or  beholding,  a  taking  notice  or  assenting 
only  that  there  are  such  things,  but  a  designing  or  scoping 
at  them  (which  is  the  very  word)  with  an  appropriative 
eye ;  as  things  that,  notwithstanding  their  distance,  or  what- 
soever imaginable  difficulty,  are  hoped  to  be  attained  to  and 
enjoyed.  And  here  are  evidently  the  distinct  parts  of  fait li 
and  hoj)e  in  this  business ;  faith,  upon  the  authority  and 
credit  of  the  Divine  word  and  promise,  persuades  the  heart 
that  there  is  such  a  glorious  state  of  things  reserved  for  the 
saints  in  general,  (faith  can  go  no  further,  for  the  word  of 
promise  goes  no  further,)  and  so  serves  instead  of  eyes  in 
the  Divine  light,  to  view  those  glories;  or  it  presents  them 

o  Heb.  X.  34.  p  Tit.  i.  1,  a. 

r  Rom.  vlii.  5. 
t  Heb.  xi.  1. 

X  CKOTTOVVTbll/. 


j 


Chap.  XV. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


239 


(as  so  many  substantial  realities,)  demonstrates  tliem,  sub- 
mits them  to  view,  whence  hope  reaches  Ibrih  to  them ; 
contends  against  and  triumphs  over  all  attending  difficul- 
ties, and  pcvssesses  them;  gives  the  soul  an  early  antici- 
pated fruition  of  them,  for  its  present  support  and  relief. 
So  that  it  y  rejoices  m  the  hope  of  the  glory  of  God.  It 
might  well  therefore  be  said,  I  had  fainted,  if  I  had  not 
believed,  or  who  can  express  how  sad  my  case  had  been, 
if  I  had  not  believed  1  for  there  is  an  elegant  aposiopesis 
in  the  Hebrew  text,  the  words  "  I  had  fainted"  being  sup- 
plied in  the  translation.  If  I  had  not  believed,  what  had  be- 
come of  me  then  '\  q.  d.  Inasmuch  as  faith  feeds,  as  it 
were,  those  hopes  wliich  more  immediately,  the  Lord  makes 
use  of,  for  the  strengthening  his  people's  hearts,  as  it  was 
intimated  in  the  following  words,  compared  with  Psal.  xxxi. 
24.  In  the  present  case;  faith  a.scertains  the  heart  of  the 
truth  of  the  promises,  so  that  thus  the  soul  states  the  case 
to  itself.  Though  I  have  not  walked  to  and  fro  in  those 
upper  regions,  nor  taken  a  view  of  the  heavenly  inheri- 
tance; though  I  have  not  been  in  the  third  heavens,  and 
seen  the  ineffable  glory;  yet  the  gospel  revelation,  which 
hath  brought  life  and  immortality  to  light,  the  word  of  the 
eternal  God,  who  hath  told  me  this  is  the  state  of  things  in 
the  other  world,  cannot  but  be  true :  my  faith  may  therefore 
be  to  me  instead  of  eyes :  and  the  Divine  testimony  must 
supply  the  place  of  light :  both  together,  give,  methinks,  a 
fair  prospect  of  those  far  distant,  glorious  objects  which  I 
have  now  in  view.  Now  this  awakens  hope,  and  makes 
it  revive,  and  run  to  embrace  what  faith  hath  discovered 
in  the  promise  :  ^  In  the  hope  of  eternal  life,  which  God 
that  cannot  lie  hath  promised.  'Tis  "  the  word  of  God  that 
causes  the  soul  to  hope,  (i.  e.  believed,  for  disbelieved,  it 
signifies  nothing  with  it,)  and  that  not  only  as  it  contains 
a  narration,  but  a  promi.se  concerning  a  future  state.  I 
may  without  much  emotion  of  heart,  hear  from  a  travel- 
ler the  description  of  a  pleasant  country,  where  I  have  not 
been;  but  if  the  lord  of  that  country  give  me,  besides  the 
account  of  it,  an  assurance  of  enjoying  rich  and  ample 
possessions  there,  this  presently  begets  a  hope,  the  plea- 
sure whereof  would  much  relieve  a  present  distressed  es- 
tate ;  and  which  nothing  but  that  of  actual  possession,  can 
exceed.  That  'tis  not  more  so  with  us  here,  admits  of  no 
excuse.  Is  God  less  to  be  believed  than  a  manl  Will 
we  deny  him  the  privilege  of  being  able  to  discover  his 
mind,  and  the  truth  of  things  credible,  which  we  ordina- 
rily allow  to  any  one  that  is  not  a  convicted  liar  1  Christ 
expects  his  disciples  should  very  confidently  assure  them- 
selves of  the  preparations  made  for  them  in  another  world, 
upon  that  very  ground  alone,  that  he  had  not  told  them  the 
contrary  :  b  Let  not  your  hearts  be  troubled,  ye  believe  in 
God,  believe  also  in  me.  In  my  Father's  house  are  many 
mansions,  if  it  were  not  so,  I  would  have  told  you.  I  go 
to  prepare,  &c.  intimating  to  them,  they  ought  to  have 
that  opinion  of  his  plainness  and  sincerity,  as  never  to 
imagine  he  would  have  proselyted  them  to  a  religion  that 
should  undo  them  in  this  world,  if  there  were  not  a  suffi- 
cient recompense  awaiting  them  in  the  other,  but  he  would 
certainly  have  let  them  knov\Ti  the  worst  of  their  case  : 
much  more  might  he  expect,  they  should  be  confident 
upon  his  so  often  and  expressly  telling  them,  that  so  it  is. 
If  his  silence  might  be  a  ground  of  hope,  much  more  his 
word.  And  surely  so  grounded  a  hope  cannot  but  be  con- 
solatory and  relieving  in  this  sad  interval,  till  the  awa- 
jjing  hour. 

10.  Infer.  Lastly,  Since  this  blessedness  of  the  riglite- 
ous  is,  as  to  the  season  of  it.  future,  not  expected  till  they 
awake,  we  may  infer,  that  'tis  great  wisdom  and  sagacity 
that  guides  the  righteous  man's  choice  ;  while  he  waves  a 
present  and  temporary,  and  chooses  this  future  and  ex- 
pected, blessedness.  'Tis  true,  that  philosophy  hath  been 
wont  to  teach  us,  that  choice  or  election  hath  no  place 
about  the  end,  because  that  is  but  one,  and  choice  always 
implies  a  competition.  But  that  very  reason  evinces,  that 
in  our  present  stale  and  case,  choice  must  have  place  about 
the  end.  That  philosophy  might  have  suited  better  the 
state  of  innocent  Adam  ;  when  there  was  nothing  to  blind 
and  bribe  a  man's  judgment,  or  occasion  it  to  deliberate 


about  the  supreme  end,  (then  it  might  be  truly  said,  deli- 
beration itself  was  a  defection,)  nor  to  pervert  and  misin- 
cline  his  will ;  and  so  its  action,  in  proposing  its  end, 
would  be  simple  intention,  not  choice.  But  so  hath  the 
apostacy  and  sin  of  man  blinded  and  befooled  him,  that  he 
is  at  a  loss  about  nothing  more  than  what  is  the  chief  good. 
And  though  St.  Augustine  "=  reduce  Varro's  two  hundred 
and  eighteen  differing  .sects  about  it  to  twelve,  that's  enough 
to  prove  (but  daily  experience  doth  it  more  convincing- 
ly, and  sadly)  a  real,  though  most  unjust  competition. 
Therefore  a  sinner  can  never  be  blessed  without  cnoosing 
his  blessedness ;  and  therein  it  highly  concerns  him  to 
choose  aright,  and  that  a  spirit  of  wisdcjrn  and  counsel 
guide  his  choice.  While  man  had  not  as  yet  fallen,  to  de- 
liberate whether  he  should  adhere  to  God  or  no,  was  a 
gradual  declension,  the  very  inchoation  of  his  fall ;  but 
having  fallen,  necessity  makes  that  a  virtue  which  was 
a  wickedness  before.  There  is  no  returning  to  God 
without  considering  our  ways.  The  so  much  altered 
state  of  the  case,  quite  alters  the  nature  of  the  things. 
It  was  a  consulting  to  do  evil  before ;  now  to  do  good. 
And  hence  also,  d  choosing  the  Lord  to  be  our  God,  be- 
comes a  necessary  duty.  Which  is  to  make  choice  of  this 
very  blessedness,  that  consists  in  the  knowledge,  likeness, 
and  enjoyment  of  him.  And  now,  inasmuch  a.s  this  bless- 
edness is  not  fully  attained  by  the  longing  soul,  till  time 
expire  and  its  eternity  commence  ;  here  is  a  great  disco- 
very of  that  wisdom  which  guides  this  happy  choice.  This 
is  great  wisdom  in  prospect  ion;  in  taking  care  of  the  future; 
and  at  how  much  the  further  distance  one  can  provide,  so 
much  the  greater  reputation  of  wisdom  is  justly  acquired 
to  him ;  yea,  we  seem  to  place  the  sum  of  practical  wisdom 
in  this  one  thing,  while  we  agree  to  call  it  providence,  un- 
der the  contracted  name  of  prudence.  The  wise  man  makes 
it  at  least  an  evidence  or  part  of  wisdom,  when  he  tells  us ' 
the  prudent  foreseeth,  &c.  The  righteous  man  so  far  ex- 
cels in  this  faculty,  as  that  his  eye  looks  through  all  the 
periods  of  time,  and  penetrates  into  eternity,  recommends 
to  the  soul  a  blessedness  of  that  same  stamp  and  alloy,  that 
will  endure  and  last  forever.  It  will  not  content  him  to  be 
happy  for  an  hour,  or  for  any  space  tliat  can  have  an  end; 
after  which  it  shall  be  possible  to  him  to  look  back  and 
recount  with  himself  how  happy  he  was  once:  nor  is  he 
so  much  solicitous  what  his  present  state  be,  if  he  can  but 
find  he  is  upon  safe  terms  as  to  his  future  and  eternal  slate. 
As  for  me,  saith  the  Psalmist,  (he  herein  sorts  and  severs 
himselt  from  them  whose  portion  was  in  this  life.)  ( I  shall 
behold — I  shall  be  satisfied,  when  I  awake  ;  he  cauld  vot 
say  it  u-as  veil  with  him,  bid  shall  be,  q.  d.  Let  the  purblind, 
short-sighted  sensualist  embrace  this  present  world,  who 
can  see  no  further:  let  me  have  my  portion  in  the  world 
to  come ;  may  my  soul  always  lie  open  to  the  imprecision 
of  the  powers  of  the  coming  world  ;  and  in  this,  .':o  use 
every  thing  as  to  be  under  the  power  of  nothing.  What 
are  the  pleasures  of  sin,  that  are  but  for  a  season  ;  or  what 
the  sufferings  of  this  nmo,  this  moment  of  affliction,  to 
the  glory  that  shall  be  revealed,  to  the  exceeding  and  eter- 
nal glory  1  He  considers,  patient  afflicted  godliness  will 
triumph  at  last,  when  riotous  raging  wickedness  shall  la- 
ment for  ever.  He  may  for  a  time  weep  and  mourn,  while 
the  world  rejoices;  he  may  be  sorrowful,  but  his  sorrow 
shall  be  turned  into  joy,  and  his  joy  none  shall  take  from 
him.  Surely?  here  is  wisdom;  this  is  the  wisdom  that  is 
from  above,  and  tends  thither.  This  is  to  be  wise  unto 
salvation.  The  righteous  man  is  a  judicious  man  ;  he 
hafh  in  a  measure  that  judgment  (wherein  the  apostle 
prays  the  Philippians  might  ii  abound)  to  approve  things 
that  are  excellent,  and  accordingly  to  make  his  choice. 
This  is  a  sense  (little  thought  of  by  the  author)  wherein 
that  sober  speech  of  the  voluptuous  philosopher  is  most 
certainly  true,  >  A  man  cannot  live  happily,  without  living 
•wisely.  No  man  shall  ever  enjoy  the  eternal  plea.sures 
hereafter,  that  in  this  acquits  not  himself  wisely  here,  even 
in  this  choosing  the  better  part,  that  shall  never  be  taken 
from  him.  In  this  the  plain  righteous  man  outvies  the 
greatest  sophies,  the  scribe,  the  disputer,  the  politician,  thr, 
prudent  mammonisi,  the  facete  wit;  who,  in  their  several 


y  Rom.  V.  2.  xii. 
fa  John  xiv.  1,2. 
d  Josh.  xxiv.  15. 


P.9al.  x.\vii.  13.  14.       7.  Tit.  i.  2.       a  Psal.  xi.\.  49. 
c  DeCivit.  Dei,  lib.  19. 

e  Prov.  xxii.  3. 


f  E.St  bene  non  potuit  dir«re  dicit  erit. 

g  John  xn.  20,  22.  h  Phil.  i.  9,  10. 


i  EviiruruB. 


240 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OP  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


Chap.  XVI. 


kinds,  all  think  themselves  highly  to  have  merited  to  be 
accounted  wise  :  and  that  this  point  of  wisdom  should  es- 
cape their  notice,  and  be  the  principal  thing  with  him,  can 
be  resolved  into  nothing  else  but  the  Divine  good  pleasure! 
In  this  contemplation  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  is  said  to  have 
rejoiced  in  spirit,  (it  even  put  his  great  comprehensive  soul 
into  an  ecstacy,)  k  Father  1  thank  thee,  Lord  of  heaven  and 
earth,  that  thou  hast  hid  these  things  from  the  wise  and 
prudent,  and  revealed  them  to  babes;  even  so  Father, 
because  it  pleased  thee  !  Here  was  a  thing  fit  to  be  reflect- 
ed on,  as  a  piece  of  Divine  royally  ;  a  part  worthy  of  the 
Lord  of  heaven  and  earth.  And  what  serious  spirit  would 
it  not  amaze,  to  weigh  and  ponder  this  case  awhile ;  to 
see  men  excelling  in  all  other  kinds  of  knowledge,  so  far 
excelled  by  those  they  most  contemn,  in  the  highest  point 
of  wisdom ;  such  as  know  how  to  search  into  the  most  ab- 
struse mysteries  of  nature ;  that  can  unravel,  or  see  through 
the  most  perplexed  intrigues  of  state ;  that  know  how  to  save 
their  own  stake,  and  secure  their  private  interest  in  what- 
soever times  ;  yet  so  little  seen,  (often,  for  not  many  wise) 
in  the  matters  that  concern  an  eternal  felicity  !  It  puts  me 
in  mind  of  what  I  find  observed  by  some,  the  particular 
madness,  (a  dementia  quo  ad  hoc,)  as  'tis  called  ;  when  per- 
sons, in  every  thing  else,  capable  of  sober,  rational  dis- 
course, when  you  bring  them  to  some  one  thing,  (that  in 
reference  to  which  they  became  distempered  at  first)  they 
rave  and  are  perfectly  mad.  How  many  that  can  manage 
a  discourse  with  great  reason  and  judgment  about  other 
matters,  who,  when  you  come  to  discourse  with  them 
about  the  affairs  of  practical  godliness,  and  which  most 
directly  tend  to  that  future  state  of  blessedness,  they  are 
as  at  their  wit's  end,  know  not  what  to  say;  they  savour 
not  those  things  !  These  are  things  not  understood,  but  by 
such  to  whom  it  is  given ;  and  surely  that  given  Avisdom  is 
the  most  excellent  wisdom.  Sometimes  God  doth,  as  it 
were,  so  far  gratify  the  world,  as  to  speak  their  own  lan- 
guage, and  call  them  wise  that  affect  to  be  called  so,  and 
that  wisdom  which  they  would  fain  have  go  under  that 
name  ;  Moses,  it  is  said,  was  skilled  in  all  the  i  wisdom  of 
Egypt,  &c.  But  at  other  times  he  expressly  calls  those 
wise  men  fools,  and  their  wisdom,  folly  and  madness  ;  or 
annexes  some  disgraceful  abject  for  distinction  sake ;  or 
applies  those  appellatives  ironically,  and  in  manifest  deri- 
sion. No  doubt,  but  any  such  person  as  was  represented 
in  the  parable,  would  have  thought  himself  to  have  done 
the  part  of  a  very  wise  man,  in  entertaining  such  delibe- 
ration and  resolves,  as  we  find  he  had  there  with  himself. 
How  strange  was  that  to  his  ears,  >"  Thou  fool,  this  night 
shall  they  require  thy  soul,  &c.  Their  wisdom  is  some- 
times said  to  be  foolish ;  or  else  called  the  wisdom  of  the 
flesh,  or  fleshly  wisdom;  said  to  be  earthly,  sensual,  devil- 
ish ;  they  are  said  to  be  wise  to  do  evil ;  while  to  do  good 
they  have  no  understanding ;  they  are  brought  sometimes 
as  it  were  upon  the  stage  with  their  wisdom,  to  be  the 
matter  of  Divine  triumph  ;  where  is  the  wise  7  and  that 
which  they  account  foolishness  is  made  to  confound  their 
wisdom.  And  indeed  do  they  deserve  to  be  thought  wise, 
that  are  so  busily  intent  upon  momentary  trifles,  and  trifle 
with  eternal  concernments  1  that  prefer  vanishing  shadows 
to  the  everlasting  glory "?  that  follow  lying  vanities,  and 
forsake  their  own  mercies  1  Yea,  will  they  not  cease  to  be 
wise  in  their  own  eyes  also,  when  they  see  the  issue,  and 
reap  the  fruits  of  their  foolish  choice  1  when  they  find  the 
happiness  they  preferred  before  this  eternal  one  is  quite 
over ;  and  nothing  remains  to  them  of  it,  but  an  afflictive 
remembrance  1  that  the  torment  they  were  told  would  fol- 
low, is  but  now  beginning,  and  without  end  1  when  they 
hear  from  the  mouth  of  their  impartial  Judge,  Remember, 
you  in  your  life-time  had  your  good  things,  and  my  faith- 
ful servants  their  evil;  now  they  must  be  comforted,  and 
you  tormented  1  when  they  are  told,  "  you  have  received 
the  consolation  ;  you  were  full,  ye  did  laugh,  now  you  must 
pine,  and  mourn,  and  weep'?  Will  they  not  then  be  as 
ready  to  befool  themselves,  and  say  as  they,  "  See,  those 
(righteous  ones)  are  they  whom  we  sometimes  had  in  de- 
rision, and  for  a  proverb  of  reproach:  we  fools  counted 
their  life  madness,  and  that  their  end  was  without  honour; 
but  now,  how  are  they  numbered  among  the  sons  of  God, 


k  Luke  X.  21. 
II  Luke  xi.  at,  i». 


1  Aotg  vii.  22. 

o  Wisd.  V.  3.  &c. 


ra  Luke  .\ii.  20. 
p  1  Cor.  i.  21. 


and  their  lot  is  among  the  saints  ?  They  that  were  too  wise 
before,  to  mind  so  mean  a  thing  as  religion  (p  the  world 
through  wisdom  knew  not  God ;  strange  wisdom  !)  that 
could  so  wisely  baffle  conscience,  and  put  fallacies  upon 
their  own  souls ;  that  had  so  ingenious  shifts  to  elude  ■> 
conviction,  and  divert  any  serious  thought  from  fastening' 
upon  their  spirits ;  that  were  wont  so  slyly  to  jeer  holi- 
ness, seemed  as  they  meant  to  laugh  religion  out  of  coun- 
tenance ;  ithey  will  now  know,  that  a  circumspect  walk- 
ing, a  faithful  redeeming  of  time,  and  improving  it  in  or- 
der to  eternity,  was  to  do,  not  as  fools,  but  as  wise;  and  be- 
gin to  think  of  themselves,  now  at  last,  as  all  wise  and  so- 
ber men  thought  of  them  before. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

The  second  general  head  of  the  improvement  or  use  of  the  doctrine  propound- 
ed from  the  text,  containing  certam  rules  or  prescriptions  of  duty  connatural 
thereto.  1.  That  we  settle  in  our  minds  the  true  notion  of  this  blessedness. 
2.  That  we  compare  the  temper  of  our  own  spirits  with  it,  and  labour  thence 
to  discern  whether  we  may  lay  claim  to  it  or  no. 

Thus  far  we  have  the  account  of  the  truths  to  be  con- 
sidered and  weighed  that  have  dependence  on  the  doctrine 
of  the  text. 

Next  follow  the  duties  to  be  practised  and  done  in  refer- 
ence thereto,  which  I  shall  lay  down  in  the  ensuing  rules 
or  prescriptions. 

1.  That  we  admit  and  settle  the  distinct  notion  of  this 
blessedness  in  our  own  minds  and  judgments ;  that  we  fix 
in  our  own  souls  apprehensions  agreeable  t-o  the  account 
this  scripture  hath  given  us  of  it.  This  is  a  counsel  lead- 
ing and  introductive  to  the  rest;  and  which  if  it  obtain 
with  us,  will  have  a  general  influence  upon  the  whole 
course  of  that  practice  which  the  doctrine  already  opened 
calls  for.  As  our  apprehensions  of  this  blessedness  are 
more  distinct  and  clear,  it  may  be  expected  more  powe>r- 
fully  to  command  our  hearts  and  lives.  Hence  it  is,  in 
great  part,  the  spirits  and  conversations  of  Christians  have 
so  little  savour  and  appearance  of  heaven  in  them.  We 
rest  in  some  general  and  confused  notion  of  it,  in  which 
there  is  little  either  of  efficacy  or  pleasure ;  we  descend 
not  into  a  particular  inquiry  and  consideration  what  it  is. 
Our  thoughts  of  it  are  gloomy  and  obscure ;  and  hence 
it  is  our  spirit  is  naturally  listless  and  indifferent  towards 
it,  and  rather  contents  itself  to  sit  still  in  a  region  all  light- 
some round  about,  and  among  objects  it  hath  somepresent 
acquaintance  with,  than  venture  itself  forth  as  into  a  new 
world  which  it  knows  but  little  of.  And  hence  our  lives 
are  low  and  carnal ;  they  look  not  as  though  we  were 
seeking  the  heavenly  country ;  and  indeed  who  can  be  in 
good  earnest  in  seeking  after  an  unknown  state  ?  This 
is  owing  to  our  negligence  and  infidelity.  The  blessed 
God  hath  not  been  shy  and  reserved ;  hath  not  hidden  or 
concealed  from  us  the  glory  of  the  other  world ;  nor  locked 
up  heaven  to  us ;  nor  left  us  to  the  uncertain  guesses  of 
our  own  imagination,  the  wild  fictions  of  an  unguided 
fancy ;  which  would  have  created  us  a  poetical  heaven 
only,  and  have  mocked  us  with  false  elysiums  :  but  though 
much  be  yet  within  the  vail,  he  hath  been  liberal  in  his 
discoveries  to  us.  Life  and  immortalit)'  are  brought  to 
light  in  the  gospel.  The  future  blessedness  (though  some 
refined  heathens  have  had  near  guesses  at  it)  is  certainly 
apprehensible  by  the  measure  only  of  God's  revelation  of 
it ;  for  who  can  determine,  with  certainty,  of  the  eflfects 
of  Divine  good  pleasure  ('tis  your  Father's  good  pleasure 
to  give  you  a  kingdom  ?)  Who  can  tell  beforehand  what 
so  free  and  boundless  goodness  will  do,  further  than  as 
he  himself  discovers  it  ?  The  discovery  is  as  free  as  the 
donation.  The  things  "that  eye  hath  not  seen,  and  ear  not 
heard,  and  which  have  not  entered  into  the  heart  of  man, 
God  hath  revealed  to  us  by  his  Spirit ;  and  it  follows,  ver. 
12.  We  have  received  the  spirit  of  God,  that  we  might 
know  the  things  freely  given  us  of  God.  The  Spirit  is  both 
the  principle  of  the  external  revelation,  as  having  inspired 
the  Scriptures  which  foreshow  this  glory,  and  of  the  inter- 
nal revelation  also,  to  enlighten  blind  minds  that  would 
otherwise  (/luuml^sn')  never  be  able  to  discover  things  at  so 

n  Folly  is  joy  to  him  that  is  destitute  of  wisdom.    Prov.  xv. 
a  1  Cor.  ii.  9. 


Chap.  XVI. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


341 


great  a  distance,  see  afar  off;  therefore  called  the  spirit  of 
wisdom  and  revelation,  by  which  bihe  eyes  of  the  under- 
standing are  enlightened  to  know  tiie  hope  of  that  calling, 
and  the  riches  of  the  glory  of  his  inheritance  among  the 
saints,  as  the  ck  there  is  most  fitly  to  be  rendered. 

But  this  internal  discovery  is  made  by  the  mediation 
and  interveniency  of  the  external ;  therefore  having  that 
before  our  eyes,  we  are  to  apply  our  minds  to  the  study  and 
consideration  of  it ;  and  in  that  way  to  expect  the  free 
illumination  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  In  the  meantime  we  must 
charge  our  ignorance,  and  the  darkness  of  our  cloudy 
thoughts,  touching  these  things,  upon  our  carelessness, 
lhat\vc  do  not  attend;  or  our  incredulity,  that  we  will 
not  believe  what  God  hath  revealed  concerning  them  :  'tis 
therefore  a  dutiful  atlenlion,  and  reverential  faith,  that  must 
settle  and  fix  the  notion  of  this  blessedness.  If  we  will 
not  regard  nor  give  credit  to  what  God  hath  discovered 
concerning  it,  we  may  sit  still  in  a  torpid,  disconsolate 
darkness,  which  we  ourselves  are  the  authors  of,  or  (which 
is  no  less  pernicious)  compass  ourselves  with  sparks  beaten 
out  of  our  own  forge,  walk  in  the  light  of  our  own  fire, 
cheat  our  souls  with  the  fond  dream  of  an  imagined 
lieaven,  no  where  to  be  found,  till  we  at  length  lie  down 
in  soriow.  How  perverse  are  the  imaginations  of  men 
in  this  (as  in  reference  to  the  way,  so)  in  respect  of  the 
end  also;  for  as  they  take  upon  them  to  fancy  another  way 
to  happiness  quite  besides  and  against  the  plain  word  of 
God ;  so  do  they  imagine  to  themselves  another  kind  of 
happiness,  such  as  shall  gratify  only  their  sensual  desires ; 
a  Alahometan,  indeed  a  fool's,  paradise;  or  at  best  'tis  but 
a  negative  heaven  ;  they  many  times  entertain  in  their 
thoughts  (of  which  their  sense  too  is  the  only  measure)  a 
state  wherein  nothing  shall  offend  or  incommode  the  flesh  ; 
in  which  they  shall  nor  hunger,  not  thirst,  nor  feel  want : 
and  when  they  have  thus  stated  the  matter  in  their  own 
thoughts,  we  cannot  beat  them  out  of  it,  but  that  they  desire 
to  go  to  heaven;  {viz.  the  heaven  of  their  own  making;) 
when,  did  they  conceive  it  truly  and  fully,  they  would  find 
their  hearts  to  abhor  from  it,  even  as  hell  itself  Therefore 
here  we  should  exercise  an  authority  over  ourselves,  and 
awaken  conscience  to  its  proper  work  and  business  ;  and 
demand  of  it.  Is  it  not  reasonable  these  divine  discoveries 
should  take  place  with  rael  hath  not  God  spoken  plainly 
enough  1  why  should  my  heart  any  longer  hang  in  doubt 
with  me,  or  look  wishly  towards  future  glory,  as  if  it  were 
an  uncouth  thing  1  or  is  it  reasonable  to  confront  my  own 
imaginations  to  his  discoveries  1  Charge  conscience  with 
the  duty  it  owes  to  God  in  such  a  case ;  and  let  his  reve- 
lations be  received  with  the  reverence  and  resignation  which 
they  challenge ;  and  in  them  study  and  contemplate  the 
blessedness  of  awakened  souls ;  till  you  have  agreed  with 
yourself  fully  how  to  conceive  it.  Run  over  every  part  of 
it  in  your  thoughts ;  view  the  several  divine  excellencies 
which  you  are  hereafter  to  see  and  imitate ;  and  think 
v/hat  every  thing  will  contribute  to  the  satisfaction  and 
contentment  of  your  spirits.  This  is  a  matter  of  unspeak- 
able consequence.  Therefore,  to  be  as  clear  as  is  possible, 
you  may  digest  what  is  recommended  to  you  in  these  more 
particular  directions. 

1.  Resolve  with  yourselves,  to  make  the  divine  reve- 
lation of  this  blessedness  the  prime  measure  and  reason 
of  all  your  apprehensions  concerning  it.  Fix  that  purpose 
in  your  own  hearts,  so  to  order  all  your  conceptions  about 
It,  that  when  you  demand  of  yourselves,  what  do  I  con- 
ceive of  the  future  blessedness  1  and  why  do  I  conceive 
sol  the  divine  revelation  may  answer  both  the  questions. 
I  apprehend  what  God  hath  revealed,  and  because  he  hath 
so  revealed.  The  Lord  of  heaven  sure  best  understands 
it,  and  can  best  help  us  to  the  understanding  of  it.  If  it 
be  said  of  the  "^origin  of  this  world,  7rts-£<  vooiitcv,  it  may 
much  more  be  said  of  the  state  of  the  other,  we  under- 
stand it  by  faith  :  that  must  inform  and  perfect  our  intel- 
lectuals in  this  matter. 

2.  Therefore  reject  and  sever  from  the  notion  of  this 
blessedness,  whatsoever  is  alien  to  the  account  Scripture 
gives  us  of  it.  Think    not   that  sensual  pleasure,  that  a 

b  Eph.  i.  17.  c  Heb.  xi.  3. 

d  Yvl^riv  dtois  'Zvl^n  ('t  Oenis  o  avvcxbis  Scikvvs  cavTOi;  rriv  cavTov  \lAi\r]v 
apcTKOfitvrjv  fitvTZ  roii  airovtjiopicvoif  :  -noiovrrav  6e  oaa  Pox'Xctoi  n  iai/iMV, 
ovCKa^uiTrpos'aTm't&c.—.'vroifees'iveKas'ovvovsKat  Xoyof.  Marc.  Ant.  1.  5. 


liberty  of  sinning,  that  an  exemption  from  the  divine 
dominion,  distance  and  estrangedness  from  God  (which  by 
nature  you  wickedly  aflect)  can  have  anyingrediency  into, 
or  consistency  with,  this  stale  of  blessedness. 

3.  Gather  up  into  it  whatsoever  you  can  find  by  the 
Scripture-discovery  to  appertain  or  belong  thereto.  Let 
your  notion  of  it  be  to  your  uttermost,  not  only  true^  but 
comprehensive  and  full,  and  as  particular  and  positive,  as 
God's  revelation  will  warrant  :  especially  remember  'tis  a 
spiritual  blessedness,  that  consists  in  the  refining  and  per- 
fecting of  your  spirits  by  the  vision  and  likeness  of  the 
holy  God,  and  the  satisfying  of  them  thereby  for  ever. 

4.  Get  the  notion  of  this  blessedness  deep  imprinted 
in  your  minds;  .so  as  to  abide  with  you,  that  you  may  not 
be  always  at  a  loss,  and  change  your  apprehensions  every 
time  you  come  to  think  of  it.  Let  a  once  well-formed 
idea,  a  clear,  full  state  of  it  be  preserved  entire,  and  be  (as 
a  lively  image)  always  before  your  eyes,  which  you  may 
readily  view  upon  all  occasions. 

2.  J?K^^.  That  having  well  fixed  the  notion  of  this  blessed- 
ness in  your  minds,  you  seriously  reflect  upon  yourself,  and 
compare  the  temper  of  your  spii  it  with  it ;  that  you  may 
find  out  how  it  is  affected  thereto;  and  thence  judge  in 
what  likelihood  you  are  of  enjoying  it.  The  general  aver- 
sion of  men's  spirits  to  this  so  necessary  work  of  self- 
refleclion,  is  one  of  the  most  deplorable  s],Tnptoms  of 
lapsed  degenerated  humanity.  The  wickedne.ss  that  hath 
overspread  the  nature  of  man,  and  a  secret  consciousness 
and  misgiving,  hath  made  men  afraid  of  themselves,  and 
studiously  to  decline  all  acquaintance  with  their  own  souls ; 
to  shun  themselves  as  ghosts  and  spectres;  they  cannot 
endure  to  appear  to  themselves.  You  can  hardly  impose 
a  severer  task  upon  a  wicked  man,  than  to  go  retire  an 
hour  or  two,  and  commune  with  himself :  he  knows  not 
how  to  face  his  own  thoughts ;  his  own  soul  is  a  devil  to 
him,  as  indeed  it  will  be  in  hell,  the  most  frightful,  tor- 
menting devil.  Yet,  what  power  is  there  in  man,  more 
excellent,  more  appropriate  to  reasonable  nature,  than  that 
of  reflecting,  of  turning  his  thoughts  upon  himself!  Sense 
must  here  confess  itself  outdone.  The  eye  that  sees  other 
objects  cannot  see  itself:  but  the  mind,  a  rational  sun, 
cannot  only  project  its  beams,  but  revert  them ;  make  its 
thoughts  turn  inward.  It  can  see  its  own  face,  contemplate 
itself  And  how  useful  an  endowment  is  this  to  the  nature 
of  man  !  If  he  err,  he  might  perpetuate  his  error,  and 
wander  infinitely,  if  he  had  not  this  self-reflecting  power; 
and  if  he  do  well,  never  know  without  it  the  comfort  of  a 
rational  self-approbation :  which  comfort  paganish  morality 
hath  valued  so  highly,  as  to  account  it  did  associate  a  man 
with  the  inhabitants  of  heaven,  and  make  him  lead  his  life 
as  among  the  gods  (as  their  pagan  language  is) ;  though  the 
name  of  the  reflecting  power,  conscience,  they  were  less  ac- 
quainted with;  the  thing  itself  they  reckoned  as  a  kind  of 
indwelling  deity,  as  may  be  seen  at  large  in  those  discourses 
of  Maximus  Tyrius,  and  Apuleius,  both  upon  the  same 
subject,  concerning  the  god  of  Socrates.  And  another 
giving  this  precept,  a  Familiarize  thyself  with  the  gods, 
adds,  (ind  this  shall  thou  <to  if  thou  bear  thy  viind  bc- 
emningly  tovards  ihcvi,  being  icell  pleased  %i-ilh  the  things 
they  give,  and  doing  the  things  that  mny  please  thy  damon 
or  genius,  irhovi  (saiih  he)  the  most  high  God  (which  they 
mean  by  Jupiter)  hath  put  into  ever}'  viati  as  a  deriration 
or  extraction  from  himself  {ii-dtrrrnaim)  to  he  his  president 
and  guide ;  viz.  every  one's  own  viind  and  reason.  And  this 
mind  or  reason  in  that  notion'of  it,  as  we  approve  ourselves 
to  it,  and  study  to  please  it,  is  the  same  thing  we  intend 
by  the  name  of  conscience.  And  how  high  account  they 
had  of  this  work  of  self-reflection,  may  appear  in  that  they 
entitled  the  oracle  to  that  document,  'inotr  thyself,  esteem- 
ing it  above  human  discovery,  and  that  it  could  have  no 
lower  than  a  divine  original ;  and  therefore  con.secrating 
and  Mriting  it  up  in  golden  characters  in  their  Delphic 
temple  (as  Pliny  informs  f  lis)  for  a  heavenly  inspired 
dictate. 

Among  Christians  that  enjoy  the  benefit  of  the  gospel- 
revelation,  in  which  men  may  behold  themselves,  as  one 

e  F.  civlo  desceiidif,  yvomOc  ataVTOv. 

f  Hi.st.  Miiniii.  Tlie  wisdom  and  sigaiificancy  of  which  dedication  Plato  also 
(in  Alcibiad.  1.)  takes  notice  of. 


a42 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


Chap.  XVI. 


may  his  natural  face  in  a  glass,  how  highly  should  this 
self-knowledge  be  prized,  and  how  fully  attained  !     The 
gospel  discovers,  at  the  same  time,  the  ugly  deformities  of 
a  man's  soul,  and  the  means  of  attaining  a  true  spiritual 
comeliness ;  yea,  it  is  itself  the  instrument  of  impressing 
the  Divine  image  and  glory  upon  men's  spirits ;  which  when 
it  is  in  any  measure  done,  they  become  most  sociable  and 
conversable  with  themselves,  and  when  'tis  but  in  doing, 
it  so  convincingly,  and  with  so  piercing  energy,  lays  open 
the  very  thoughts  of  men's  hearts,  so  thoroughly  rips  up 
and  dissects  the  soul,  .^so  directly  turns  and  strictly  holds 
a  man's  eye  intent  upon  himself;  so  powerfully  urges  and 
obliges  the  sinner  to  mind  and  study  his  own  soul ;  that 
where  it  hath  effected  any  thing,  been  any  way  operative 
upon  men's  spirits,  they  are  certainly  supposed  to  be  in  a 
good  measure  acquainted  with  themselves,  whatever  others 
are.     Therefore  the  apostle  bids  the  Corinthians,  if  they 
desire  a  proof  of  the  power  and  truth  of  his  ministry,  to 
consult  themselves :  n  Examine  yourselves,  and  presently 
subjoins,  know  ye  not  your  own  selves  1  intimating,  it  was 
an  insupposable  thing  they  should  be  ignorant.     What ! 
Christians  and  not  know  yourselves!    Can  you  have  been 
imder  the  gospel  so  long,  and  be  strangers  to  yourselves  1 
none  can  think  it.     Sure  'tis  a  most  reproachful  thing,  a 
thing  full  of  ignominy  and  scandal,  that  a  man  should 
name  himself  a  Christian,  and  yet  be  under  gross  ignorance, 
touching  the  temper  and  bent  of  his  soul.     It  signifies,  that 
such  a  one  understands  little  of  the  design  and  tendency 
of  the  very  religion  he  pretends  to  be  of,  that  he  was  a 
Christian  by  mere  chance,  that  he  took  up  and  continues 
his  profession  in  a  dream.     Christianity  aims  at  nothing, 
it  gets  a  man  nothing,  if  it  do  not  procure  him  a  better 
spirit;  'lis  an  empty  insignificant  thing,  it  hath  no  design 
in  it  at  all,  if  it  do  not  design  this.     It  pretends  to  nothing 
else.     It  doth  not  offer  men  secular  advantages,  emolu- 
ments, honours ;  it  hath  no  such  aim  to  make  men  in  that 
sense  rich,  or  great,  or  honourable,  but  to  make  them  holy, 
and  fit  them  for  God.     He  therefore  loses  all  his  labour 
and  reward,  and  shows  himself  a  vain  trifler  in  the  matters 
of  religion,  that  makes  not  this  the  scope  and  mark  of  his 
Christian  profession  and  practice;  and  herein  he  can  do 
nothing  without  a  constant  self-inspection.     As  it  therefore 
highly^concerns,  it  well  becomes,  a  Christian  under  the 
gospel,  to  be  in  a  continual  observation  and  study  of  him- 
self, that  he  may  know  to  what  purpose  he  is  a  Christian ; 
and  take  notice,  what  (or  whether  any)  good  impressions 
be  yet  made  upon  his  spirit ;  whether  he  can  gain  any 
thing  by  his  religion.     And  if  a  man  enter  upon  an  in- 
quiry into  himself,  what  more  important  question  can  he 
put  than  this,   In  what  posture  am  I  as  to  my  last  and 
chief  end  1  how  is  my  spirit  framed  towards  it  1  This  is  the 
intendment  and  business  of  the  gospel,   to  fit   souls  for 
blessedness ;  and  therefore,  if  I  would  inquire.  What  am  I 
the  better  for  the  gospell  this  is  the  sense  and  meaning 
of  that  very  question,  Is  my  soul  wrought  by  it  to  any 
better  disposition  for  blessedness  1    Upon  which  the  reso- 
lution of  this  depends,  Am  I  ever  likely  to  enjoy  it,  yea  or 
no  1  That  which  may  make  any  heart  not  deplorably  stu- 
pid, shake  and  tremble,  that  such  a  thing  should  be  drawn 
into  question ;  but  the  case  with  the  most  requires  it,  and 
it  must  be  so.     'Tis   that   therefore    I    would   fain   here 
awaken  souls  to,  and  assist  them  in;    that  is,  propound 
something,  (in  pursuance  of  the  present  direction,)  which 
might  both  awaken  them  to  move  this  great  question,  and 
help  them  in  discussing  it.     Both  which  will  be  done  in 
showing  the  importance  of  this  latter  ultimate  question  in 
itself,  and  then  the  subserviency  of  the  former  subordinate 
one,  towards  the  deciding  it.     iThese  two  things  therefore 
I  shall  a  little  stay  upon  :— -1.  To  show  and  urge  the  re- 
quisiteness  of  debating  with  ourselves,  the  likelihood  or 
hopefulness  of  our  enjoying  this  blessedness.     2.  To  dis- 
cover that  the  present  habitude,  or  disposedness  of  our 
spirits  to  it,  is  a  very  proper    apt   medium,  whereby  to 
judge  thereof 

First,  As  to  the  former  of  these.  Methinks  our  business 
should  do  itself;  and  that  the  very  mention  of  such  a 
blessedness,  should  naturally  prompt  souls  to  bethink 
themselves,  Doth  it  belong  to  mel  have  I  any  thing  to 
do  with  it  ?  Methinks  every  one  that  hears  of  it  should  be 


8  Hob.  iv    13. 


h  2  Cor.  xiii.  5, 


beforehand  with  me,  and  prevent  me  here.  Where  is  that 
stupid  soul  that  reckons  it  an  indifferent  thing  to  attain 
this  blessed  state,  or  fall  short  of  if?  When  thou  hearest 
this  is  the  common  expectation  of  saints,  to  behold  the 
face  of  God,  and  be  satisfied  with  his  likeness,  when  th-ey 
awake;  canst  thou  forbear  to  say  with  thyself,  And  what 
shall  become  of  me  when  I  awake  1  what  kind  of  awaking 
shall  I  havel  shall  I  awake  amidst  the  beams  of  glory,  or 
flames  of  wrath  1  If  thou  canst  be  persuaded  to  think 
this  no  matter  of  indifferency,then  stir  up  thy  drowsy  soul 
to  a  serious  inquiry,  how  'tis  likely  to  fare  with  thee  for 
ever ;  and  to  that  purpose  put  thy  conscience  to  it  to  give 
a  free,  sincere  answer  to  these  few  queries. 

1.  Canst  thou  say  thou  art  already  certain  of  thy  eter- 
nal blessedness  1  Art  thou  so  sure,  that  thou  needest  not 
inquire  ]  I  know  not  who  thou  art  that  now  readest  these 
lines,  and  therefore  cannot  judge  of  thy  confidence  whether 
it  be  right  or  wrong;  only  that  thou  mayst  not  cinswer  too 
hastily,  consider  a  little,  that  i  certainty  of  salvation  is  no 
common  thing ;  not  among  (I  speak  you  see  of  subjective 
certainty)  the  heirs  of  salvation  themselves.  How  many 
of  God's  holy  ones,  that  cannot  say  they  are  certain  ;  yea, 
how  few  that  can  say  they  are !  That  exhortation  to  a 
church  of  saints,  Work  out  your  salvation  with  fear  and 
trembling,  (they  of  whom  he  expresseth  such  confidence, 
chap.  i.  6.  over  whom  he  so  glories,  chap.  iv.  1.)  implies 
this  to  be  no  common  thing ;  so  doth  Christ's  advice  to 
his  disciples,  Strive  to  enter  in  at  the  strait  gate  ;  and  St. 
Peter  to  the  scattered  Jews,  (that  he  saith  had  obtained 
like  precious  faith,  &c.)  Give  diligence  to  make  your  call- 
ing and  election  sure ;  with  many  more  passages  of  like 
import.  Yea,  how  full  is  the  Scripture  of  the  complaints 
of  such  crying  out  of  broken  bones,  of  festering  woimds,  of 
distraction  by  divine  terrors.  Now  what  shall  we  say  in 
this  case,  when  so  eminent  saints  have  left  us  records  of 
the  distresses  and  agonies  of  their  spirits,  under  the  appre- 
hended displeasure  of  God  ?  May  it  not  occasion  us  to 
suspend  awhile,  and  consider!  have  we  much  more  reason 
to  be  confident  than  theyl  and  do  we  know  none  that 
lead  stricter  and  more  holy  lives  than  w^e,  that  are  yet  in 
the  dark,  and  at  a  loss  in  judging  their  spiritual  states  1  I 
will  not  say,  that  we  must  therefore  think  ourselves  bound 
lo  doubt,  because  another  possibly  better  than  we  doth  so. 
UnknoMTi  accidents  may  much  vary  the  cases.  But  who 
would  not  think,  that  reason  and  modesty  had  quite  for- 
saken the  world,  to  hear  (where  the  odds  is  so  vastly 
great)  the  vain  boast  of  the  loose  generality,  compared 
with  the  humble,  solicitous  doubts  of  many  serious  know- 
ing Christians'?  to  see  such  trembling  about  their  soul- 
concernments,  who  have  walked  with  God,  and  served 
him  long  in  prayers  and  tears  ;  when  multitudes  that  have 
nothing  whereon  to  bottom  a  confidence  but  pride  and  ig- 
norance, shall  pretend  themselves  certain !  If  drawing 
breath  awhile,  thou  wilt  suspect  thou  have  reason  not  to 
be  peremptory  in  thy  confidence,  thou  wilt  sure  think 
thyself  concerned  to  inquire  further.  Urge  thy  soul  then 
with  this  question  again  and  again,  Art  thou  yet  certain, 
yea,  or  no  1 

2.  Is  it  a  comfortable  slate  to  be  uncertain,  or  to  have 
before  thee  apparent  grounds  of  a  rational  and  just  doubt  1 
For  causeless  doubts  may  sooner  vanish,  when  their  cause- 
lessness  is  once  discovered ;  and  so  they  are  less  likely  to 
keep  a  person  that  is  capable  of  understanding  his  own 
case,  under  a  stated  discomfort.  But  I  suppose  thee,  in 
order  to  the  ansM-ering  the  foregoing  query,  to  have  in  some 
measure  considered  the  c£ise ;  and  that  with  a  preponder- 
ating apprehension  of  danger  in  it,  thou  returnest  it  uncer- 
tain. Uncertain,  man!  And  what,  wilt  thou  remain  un- 
certain 1  wilt  thou  sit  still  so,  till  thou  perish  1  shall  thy 
life  hang  in  doubt,  and  thy  soul  be  in  jeopardy  every 
hour,  till  the  everlasting  flames  resolve  the  doubt,  and  put 
the  matter  out  of  question  with  theel  What  course  canst 
thou  apply  thyself  to,  but  to  inquire  and  search  further 
into  thy  own  state,  to  avoid  the  torture  of  thy  own  fears, 
the  pangs  and  dreadful  expectation  of  a  palpitating,  mis- 
giving heart  1  'Tis  true,  that  inquisitive  diligent  doubtful- 
ness hath  hope  and  comfort  in  it ;  but  doubtfulness  joined 
with  a  resolution  of  casting  off  all  further  care,  is  utterly 
desperate  and  disconsolate.   What  remains  to  thee  in  that 

i  Phil.  u.  12. 


Chap.  XVI. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


243 


case,  but  a  fearful  looking  for  of  fiery  indiemation  1  How 
canst  thou  pass  an  hour  in  peace,  while  thou  apprehendest 
it  unlikely,  thou  shalt  see  the  face,  and  be  saiisiied  with 
the  image  of  God  1  Do  not  thy  own  thoughts  represent  to 
thee  the  amazing  sights,  the  horrid  images  which  shall  for 
ever  entertain  and  possess  thy  soul  1  Art  thou  not  daily 
haunted  with  divine  horrors  ?  When  thou  say'st  at  night, 
thy  bed  shall  refresh  thee,  art  thou  not  terrified  with  dreams 
and  aflVighted  with  visions  1  Dost  thou  not  say  in  the  morn- 
ing, Would  to  God  it  were  evening;  and  in  the  evening 
say.  Would  to  God  it  were  morning"?  and  while  thou  know- 
est  not  what  else  to  do,  meditate  only  changes  instead  of 
remedies  1  Or  if  thou  find  no  such  trouble  invading  thy 
mind,  let  me  further  ask: 

3.  Is  it  reason.able  to  be  secure  in  such  a  state  of  uncer- 
tainty 1  Debate  this  matter  a  little  while  with  thyself  Is 
It  thy  reason,  or  thy  sloth,  that  makes  thee  sit  still  and  for- 
bear to  look  into  thy  spiritual  afiairs  1  Is  it  any  rational 
consideration,  or  not  rather  the  mere  indisposition  of  a 
soul,  afraid  to  know  its  own  state,  that  suspends  thee  from 
inquiring  1  What  hast  thou  to  say,  that  looks  like  a  reason  1 
Is  it  that  it  will  disturb  thy  thoughts,  interrupt  thy  plea- 
sures, fill  thee  with  anxious  cares  and  fears,  which  thou 
art  as  loth  to  admit,  as  burning  coals  into  thy  bosom  1  Is  it 
that  thou  canst  not  endure  to  look  upon  so  dreadful  an  ob- 
ject, as  the  appearing  danger,  or  possibility  of  thy  being 
miserable  to  eternity  1  And  art  thou  therefore  resolved  to 
shut  thine  eyes,  and  cry  peace,  peace  1  This  is  to  avoid 
a  present  inconvenience,  by  an  eternal  mischief,  (a  gross 
overstraining  the  paradox  !)  for  avoiding  the  present  fear 
of  hell  to  run  into  it ;  as  if  because  a  man  cannot  bear  the 
thoughts  of  dying,  he  should  pri^sently  cut  his  own  throat. 
Vain  man !  canst  thou  not  bear  the  thoughts  of  eternal 
misery  ;  how  wilt  thou  bear  the  thing  ?  And  how  long- 
lived  dost  thou  think  that  peace  shall  be,  that  thou  purchasest 
upon  so  dear  and  hard  terms'?  canst  thou  promise  thyself 
an  hour  1  mayst  thou  not  lose  thy  purchase  and  price  to- 
gether the  next  moment  1  canst  thou  defer  thy  misery  by 
forgetting  it ;  or  will  thy  judgment  linger,  and  thj^  damna- 
tion slumber,  while  thou  securely  lingerest  and  slumber- 
est  1  canst  thou  wink  hell  into  nothing  ;  and  put  it  out  of 
being,  by  putting  it  out  of  thy  thoughts  1  Alas,  man ! 
open  thy  eyes  when  thou  wilt,  thou  shalt  find  thou  hast 
not  bettered  thy  case  by  having  them  fast  closed.  The 
bitterness  of  death  is  not  yet  past.  The  horrid  image  is 
still  before  thee.  This  is  not  a  fancied  evil,  ■which  a  man 
mav  dream  himself  into,  and  eudem  opera,  with  as  little 
difficulty,  dream  himself  out  of  it  again.  No,  thy  case  is 
miserable  and  dangerous  when  thou  composest  thyself  to 
sleep ;  if  thou  awakest  thou  wilt  find  it  still  the  same ; 
only  thou  did'st  not  apprehend  it  before,  for  then  thou 
woiildst  not  have  slept :  as  the  drunkard  that  kills  a  man, 
and  after  falls  asleep  in  his  drunken  fit,  he  awakes  and  un- 
derstands his  wretched  state.  Would  his  sleeping  on,  till 
the  officer's  arrest  had  awaked  him,  have  mended  the  matter 
with  him  1  But  thou  wilt  possibly  say,  is  it  not  better  here 
to  have  a  little  quiet  now,  than  to  be  miserable  by  sad 
thoughts  here,  and  miserable  by  actual  sufl^ering  hereaf- 
ter too  1  Is  not  one  death  enough  7  Why  should  one 
kill  himself  so  often  over;  and  hasten  misery,  as  if  it 
came  on  too  slowly  7  Better,  man  1  A  hard  choice.  Sup- 
posing thou  art  to  be  eternally  miserable,  (if  thou  imder- 
standest  that  word  eternity,)  the  good  or  evil  of  this  little 
inch  of  time,  will  signify  so  little  with  thee,  as  hardly  to 
weigh  any  thing  in  the  scale  of  a  rational  judgment.  But 
what,  art  thou  now  dreaming  while  thou  thus  reasonest  1 
Dost  thou  yet  no  better  understand  thy  case  ?  Art  thou 
not  under  the  Gospel  1  Is  it  not  the  day  of  thy  hope,  and 
of  the  Lord's  grace  and  patience  towards  thee  1  It  was 
said  that  sleeping  would  not  better  thy  case  ;  but  it  was  not 
said  that  awaking  would  not ;  but  all  that  is  here  said,  is 
designed  to  the  awakening  of  thee,  that  thou  mayst  know 
thy  case,  and  endeavour  a  redress.  Dost  thou  think  any 
man  in  his  sober  wits  would  take  all  this  pains  thus  to  rea- 
son with  thee,  if  that  were  the  acknowledged  and  agreed 
state  of  thy  case,  that  it  were  already  taken  for  granted 
thou  must  perish "?  We  might  as  well  go  preach  to  devils, 
and  carry  down  the  Gospel  into  hell.  But  dost  thou  think 
the  hoh^  merciful  God  sent  his  Son  and  his  ministers  to 
mock  men  ;  and  to  treat  with    them  about  their  eternal 


concernments,  when  there  is  no  hope  "?  Were  that  thy 
case,  thou  hadst  as  good  a  pretence  as  the  devil  had,  to 
complain  of  being  tormented  before  thy  time.  But  if  thou 
be  not  wilfully  perverse,  in  mistaking  the  matter  we  are 
reasoning  about,  thou  mayst  understand,  thy  reason  is  here 
appealed  to  in  this  ;  whether  having  so  fair  hopes  before 
thee,  as  the  gospel  gives,  of  this  blessedness  we  are  dis- 
coursing of,  it  be  leasonable  from  the  apprehension  of  a 
mere  possibility  of  miscarrying,  (which  can  only  be 
through  thy  wilful  security  and  neglect,)  to  give  up  thy- 
self to  a  supine  negligence,  and  indulge  that  security 
which  is  so  sure  to  ruin  thee,  and  exchange  a  pcssible 
hoped  heaven  for  a  certain  hell ;  or  whether  rather  it  be 
not  reasonable  to  stir  up  thy  soul  to  consider  in  what  pos- 
ture thou  art,  towards  the  attamment  uf  this  blessedness, 
that  thou  may'st  accordingly  steer  thy  course  in  order  to 
it  7  If  an  accusation  or  a  disease  do  threaten  thy  life,  or  a 
suspected  flaw  thy  title  toth)'  estate,  wouldst  thou  not  think 
it  reasonable  to  inquire  into  thy  easel  And  is  it  not  much 
more  desirable,  in  a  matter  of  this  consequence,  to  be  at 
some  certainty  1  and  prudent  to  endeavor  it,  if  it  may  pos- 
sibly be  attained  1     Whence  let  me  further  ask  : 

4.  Canst  thou  pretend  it  to  be  impossible  1  Hath  God 
left  thee  under  a  necessitated  ignorance  in  this  matter  1  or 
denied  thee  sufficient  means  of  knowing  how  'tis  with  thee 
in  respect  of  thy  spiritual  estate  "?  Though  he  have  not  gi- 
ven thee  a  list,  or  told  thee  the  number  or  names  of  his  sanc- 
tified ones,  yet  hath  he  not  sufficiently  described  the  persons, 
and  given  the  characters  b}-  which  they  may  be  known  1 
And  hath  he  not  furnished  thee  with  a  self-reflecting  power, 
by  which  thou  art  enabled  to  look  into  thyself,  and  di.scern 
whether  thou  be  of  them  or  no  1  Doth  he  not  offer  ami 
affbid  to  serious,  diligent  souls,  the  assisting  light  of  his 
blessed  Spirit  to  guide  and  succeed  the  inquiry  1  And  if 
thou  find  it  difficult  to  come  to  a  speedy,  clear  issue,  to 
make  a  present  certain  judgment  of  thy  case  ;  ought  not 
that  to  engage  thee  to  a  patient  continued  diligence,  rather 
ihan  in  a  rash  despairing  madness  to  desist  and  cast  off 
all  1  inasmuch  as  the  difficulty,  though  great,  is  not  insu- 
perable ;  and  the  necessity  and  advantage  incomparably 
greater.  And  (though  divers  other  things  do  confessedly 
fall  in)  the  principal  difficulty  lies  in  thy  aversation  and 
unwillingness.  Thou  art  not  put  to  traverse  the  creation  1 
to  climb  heaven,  or  dig  through  the  earth ;  but  thy  work 
lies  nigh  thee,  in  th}'  own  heart  and  spirit;  and  what  is  so 
nigh,  or  should  be  so  familiar  to  thee,  as  thyself?  'Tis 
but  casting  thy  eye  upon  thy  own  soul,  to  discern  which 
way  'tis  inclined  and  bent,  thou  art  urged  to.  Which  is 
that  we  propounded  next  to  discover  :  viz. 

Secondly,  That  we  are  to  judge  of  the  hopefulness  of  our 
enjoying  this  blessedness,  by  the  present  habitude  or  dispo- 
sedness  of  our  spirits  thereto.  For  what  is  that  righteous- 
ness which  qualifies  for  it,  but  the  impress  of  the  Gfospel 
upon  the  minds  and  hearts  of  men  1  The  gospel-revela- 
tion is  the  only  rule  and  measure  of  that  righteousnes  - :  it 
must  therefore  consist  in  conformity  thereto.  And  look 
to  the  frame  and  design  of  the  gospel-revelation,  and 
what  doth  so  directly  correspond  to  it,  as  that  veiy  ha- 
bitude and  disposcdness  of  spirit  for  this  blessedness  where- 
of we  speak  1  Nothing  so  answers  the  Gospel,  as  a  pro- 
pension  of  heart  towards  God  gratified,  in  part  now,  and 
increasing  till  it  find  a  full  satisfaction:  a  desire  of  know- 
ing him  and  of  being  like  him.  'Tis  the  whole  design  of 
the  Gospel,  which  reveals  his  glory  in  the  face  of  Jesus 
Christ,  to  work  and  form  the  spirits  of  men  to  this.  They 
therefore  whose  spirits  are  thus  wrought  and  framed,  are 
righteous  by  the  gospel-measure,  and  by  that  righteousness 
are  evidently  entitled  and  fitted  for  this  blessedness.  Yea, 
that  righteousness  hath  in  it  (or  rather  is)  the  elements,  the 
first  principles,  the  seed  of  this  blessedness.  There  can 
therefore  be  no  surer  rule  or  mark  whereby  to  judge  our 
states,  whether  we  have  to  do  Avith  this  blessedness,  may  ex- 
pect it  vea  or  no,  than  this.  How  stand  we  affected  towards 
it  1  in  what  disposition  are  our  hearts  thereto  1  Those  fruits 
of  righteousness,  by  which  the  soul  is  qualified  to  appear 
without  offence  in  the  day  of  Christ,  the  several  graces  of 
the  sanctifying  Spirit,  are  nothing  else  but  so  many  holy 
principles,  all  disposing  the  soul  towards  this  blessedness, 
and  the  way  to  it ;  mortification,  self-denial,  and  godlj 
sorrow,  take  it  off  from  other  objects,  the  world,  self,  ana 


244 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


Chap.  XVII. 


sin ;  repentance  (that  part  of  it  which  respects  God)  turns 
the  course  of  its  niution  towards  God  the  end  ;  faith  dii'ects 
it  through  Christ  the  way ;  love  makes  it  move  freely;  de- 
sire, earnestly;  joy,  pleasantly;  hope,  confidently;  humili- 
ty, evenly ;  fear,  circumspectly ;  patience,  constantly  and 
pe'rseveringly.  All  conspire  to  give  the  soul  a  right  dis- 
position towards  this  blessedness.  The  result  of  them  all 
is  heavenliness,  a  heavenly  temper  of  spirit.  For  they  all, 
(one  way  or  other,)  as  so  many  lines  and  rays,  have  respect 
to  a  blessedness  in  God  (which  is  heaven)  as  the  point  at 
which  they  aim  ;  and  the  cuspis,  the  point  in  which  they 
meet,  in  order  to  the  touching  of  that  objective  point,  is 
heavenliness.  This  is  the  ultimate  and  immediate  aispo- 
sition  of  heart  for  this  blessedness  ;  the  result,  the  terviinus 
prodiiclus,  of  the  whole  work  of  righteousness  in  the  soul ; 
by  which  'tis  said  to  be,  as  it  were,  nata  ad  gloriam,  begot- 
ten to  the  eternal  inheritance.  Concerning  this  therefore 
chiefly  institute  thy  inquiry.  Demand  of  thyself,  Is  my 
soul  yet  made  heavenly,  bent  upon  eternal  blessedness,  or 
no  "?  "  And  here  thou  mayst  easily  apprehend,  of  how  great 
concernment  it  is,  to  have  the  right  notion  of  heaven,  or 
future  blessedness,  as  was  urged  under  the  foregoing  rule. 
For  if  thou  take  for  it  another  thing,  thou  missest  thy 
mark,  and  art  quite  beside  thy  business  ;  but  if  thou  retain 
a  right  and  scriptural  notion  of  it,  the  rule  thou  art  to  judge 
by  is  sure.  They  shall  have  heaven  whose  hearts  are  intent 
upon  it,  and  framed  to  it.  Scripture  is  every  where  preg- 
nant and  full  of  this. 

The  apostle  plainly  intimates,  this  will  be  the  rule  of  God's 
final  judgment.  Certainly  it  cannot  be  unsafe  for  us  to 
judge  ourselves  by  the  same  rule.  He  tells  us,  when  God 
shall  judge  every  one  according  to  his  works,  (the  great 
business  of  the  judgment  day,  eternal  life  shall  be  the  por- 
tion of  them,  k  who,  by  patient  continuance  in  well-doing, 
sought  glory,  and  honour,  and  immortality ;  which  are  but 
other  expressions  of  the  same  thing.  What  can  be  more 
plain  1  They  shall  have  eternal  life  and  glory  that  seek 
it ;  whose  hearts  are  towards  it.  Again,  speaking  of  true 
Christians,  oiaKotTiK'ji;,  {i.  e.  in  a  way  of  contradistinction 
from  Pseudo-Christians,  such  as  he  saith  were  enemies' of 
the  cross,)  he  gives  us  among  other,  this  brand  of  these 
•alter,  that  they  did  mind  earthly  things,  and  tells  us, 
their  end  should  be  destruction ;  but  gives  us  this  opposite 
character  of  the  other,  i  our  conversation  is  in  heaven ; 
our  trade  and  business,  our  daily  negocialions,  as  well  as 
the  privileges  of  our  citizenship,  lie  there,  as  his  expres- 
sion imports;  and  thence  intimates  the  opposite  end  of 
such,  whence  we  look  for  a  Saviour  ;  not  destruction,  but 
salvation.  And  in  the  same  context  of  Scripture,  where 
they  that  are  risen  with  Christ,  m  and  who  shall  appear  with 
him  in  glory,  are  required  to  set  their  mind  on  things  above, 
and  not  on  things  on  the  earth.  That  we  may  understand 
this,  not  to  be  their  duty  only,  but  their  character,  we  are 
immediately  told,  they  who  follow  not  this  counsel,  and 
mortify  not  their  earthly  members,  (those  lusts  that  dis- 
pose men  towards  the  earth,  and  to  grovel  in  the  dust,  as 
the  graces  of  the  Spirit  dispose  them  heavenward,  and  to 
converse  with  glofy,)  are  the  children  of  disobedience, 
upon  whom  the  wrath  of  God  cometh.  The  faith  the  just 
live  by,  "  is  the  substance  of  things  hoped  for,  &c.  Such 
believers  are  confessed,  avowed  strangers  on  earth  ;  and 
seekers  of  the  better,  the  heavenly  country,  whence  'tis 
said  God  will  not  be  ashamed  to  be  called  their  God ; 
plainly  implying,  that  as  for  low,  terrene  spirits,  that  love 
to  creep  on  the  earth,  and  embrace  dunghills,  God  will  be 
ashamed  of  them ;  he  will  forever  disdain  a  relation  to 
them,  wAiZe  and  as  such.  And  if  we  will  be  determined  by 
the  express  word  of  our  great  Redeemer,  to  whom  we  owe 
all  the  hopes  of  this  blessedness  ;  when  he  had  been  advi- 
sing not  to  lay  up  treasure  on  earth,  but  in  heaven,  he 
presently  adds,  <>  where  your  treasure  is,  there  will  your 
hearts  be  also.  If  thy  treasure,  thy  great  interest,  thy  pre- 
cious and  most  valuable  good  be  above,  that  will  attract 
thy  heart,  it  will  certainly  be  disposed  thitherward. 

"Yet  here  it  must  carefully  be  considered,  that  inasmuch 
as  this  blessedness  is  thy  end,  i.  e.  thy  supreme  good,  (as 
the  notion  of  treasure  also  imports,)  thy  heart  must  be  set 
upon  it  above  any  other  enjoyment ;  else  all  is  to  no  pur- 
pose. 'Tis  not  a  faint,  slight,  over-mastered  inclination  that 

k  Rom.  ii.  6,  7.  1  Phil.  iii.  18,  19,  20.  m  Col.  ill.  1,2,  3,  4. 


will  serve  the  turn,  but  (as  all  the  fore-mentioned  Scrip- 
tures import)  such  as  will  bespeak  it  a  man's  business  to 
seek  heaven,  his  main  work ;  and  give  ground  to  say  of 
him,  his  heart  is  there.  If  two  lovers  solicit  the  same  per- 
son, and  speaking  of  them  in  comparisons  she  say,  this 
hath  my  heart;  is  it  tolerable  to  understand  her,  as  mean- 
ing him  she  loves  less  1  So  absurd  would  it  be  to  under- 
stand Scriptures,  that  speak  of  such  an  intention  of  heart 
heaven-ward,  as  if  the  faintest  desire,  or  coldest  wish,  or 
most  lazy  inconstant  endeavour,  were  all  they  meant.  No, 
'tis  a  steady, prevalent,  victorious  direction  of  heart  towards 
the  future  glory,  in  comparison  whereof,  thou  despisest  all 
things  else,  (all  temporal  terrene  things,  that  must  be  the 
evidential  ground  of  thy  hope  to  enjoy  it.  And  therefore 
in  this,  deal  faithfully  with  thy  own  soul,  and  demand  of  it. 
Dost  thou  esteem  this  blessedness  above  all  things  else  1 
Do  the  thoughts  of  it  continually  return  upon  thee,  and  thy 
mind  and  heart,  as  it  were,  naturally  run  out  to  it  1  Are 
thy  chiefest  solicitudes  and  cares  taken  about  it,  lest  thou 
shouldst  fall  short  and  suffer  a  disappointment "?  Dost  thou 
savour  it  with  pleasure  1  hath  it  a  sweet  and  grateful  relish 
to  thy  soul  ■?  Dost  thou  bend  all  thy  powers  to  pursue  and 
press  on  towards  it  1  Urge  thyself  to  give  answer  truly 
to  such  inquiries ;  and  to  consider  them  seriously,  that 
thou  mayst  do  so.  Such  whose  spirits  are  either  most 
highly  raised  and  lifted  up  to  heaven,  or  most  deeply  de- 
pressed and  sunk  into  the  earth,  may  make  the  clearest 
judgment  of  themselves.  With  them  that  are  of  a  middle 
temper,  the  trial  will  be  more  difficult,  j'et  not  fruitless,  if  it 
be  managed  with  serious  diligence,  though  no  certain  con- 
clusion or  judgment  be  made  thereupon.  For  the  true  de- 
sign and  use  of  all  such  inquiries  and  reflections  upon  our- 
selves (which,  let  it  be  duly  considered)  is,  not  to  bring  us 
into  a  state  of  cessation  from  further  endeavours  ;  as  if  we 
had  nothing  more  to  do  (suppose  we  judge  the  best  of  our 
state  that  can  be  thought)  but  to  keep  us  in  a  wakeful  tem- 
per of  spirit ;  that  we  may  not  forget  ourselves  in  the  great 
business  we  have  yet  before  us,  but  go  on  M'ith  renewed 
vigour  through  the  whole  course  of  renewed  endeavours, 
wherein  we  are  to  be  still  conversant,  till  we  have  attained 
our  utmost  mark  and  end.  Therefore  is  this  present  in- 
quiry directed,  as  introductive  to  the  further  duty,  that  in 
the  following  rules  is  yet  to  be  recommended. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

Rule  3  Directing  such  as  upon  inquiry  find,  or  see  cause  to  suspect,  a  tolal 
aversalion  in  themsolves  to  ttiis  blesseitness,  to  be  speedy  and  restless  in  their 
endeavours  to  have  the  temperof  their  spirits  altered  and  made  suitable  to  it. 
Doubts  and  objections  concemine  the  use  of  such  endeavours,  in  such  a 
case,  answered.  Some  considerations  to  enforce  this  direction  propounded 
and  pressed. 

3.  Rule.  That  if  upon  such  reflection  we  find  or  suspect 
ourselves  wholly  disaffected  and  unsuitable  to  this  blessed- 
ness, we  apply  ourselves  to  speedy,  incessant  endeavours  to 
get  the  temper  of  our  spirits  changed  and  fitted  thereto.  The 
state  of  the  case  speaks  itself,  that  there  is  no  sitting  still  here. 
This  is  no  condition,  soul,  to  be  rested  in  ;  unless  thou  art 
provided  to  encounter  the  terrors  of  eternal  darkness,  and 
endure  the  torture  of  everlasting  burnings.  Yet  am  I  not 
unapprehensive  how  great  a  difficulty  a  carnal  heart  will 
make  of  it  to  bestir  itself  in  order  to  any  redress  of  so  de- 
plorable a  case.  And  how  real  a  difiiculty  it  is,  to  say  arty 
thing  that  will  be  thought  regardable  to  such  a  one.  Our 
sad  experience  tells  us,  that  our  most  efficacious  words  are 
commonly  wont  to  be  entertained  as  neglected  pufts  of 
wind  ;  our  most  convictive  reasonings  and  persuasive  ex- 
hortations lost  (yea,  and  though  they  are  managed  too  in 
the  name  of  the  great  God)  as  upon  the  deaf  and  dead: 
which  is  too  ofte.i  apt  to  tempt  into  that  resolution,  of 
"  speaking  no  more  in  that  name."  And  were  it  not  that 
the  dread  of  that  great  Majesty  restrains  us,  how  hard 
were  it  to  forbear  such  expostulations ;  "  Lord,  why  are  we 
commonly  sent  upon  so  vain  an  errand  1  why  are  we  re- 
quired to  speak  to  them  that  will  not  hear,  and  expose  thy 
sacred  truths  and  counsels  to  the  contempt  of  sinful  worms ; 
to  labour  day  by  day  in  vain,  and  spend  our  strength  for 
nought  1" — Yea,  we  cannot  forbear  to  complain,  "None  so 

n  Heb.  xi.  1,  13, 16.  o  Matt.  \\.  19,  20,  21. 


Chap.  XVII. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


245 


labour  in  vain  as  we :  of  all  men  none  so  generally  un- 
prosperous  and  unsuccessful.  Others  are  wont  to  see  the 
fruit  of  their  labours,  in  proportion  to  the  expense  of 
strength  in  them :  but  our  strength  is  labour  and  sorrow 
(for  the  most  part)  without  the  return  of  a  joylul  fruit. 
The  husbandman  ploughs  in  hope,  and  sows  in  hope,  and 
is  commonly  partaker  of  his  hope :  we  are  sent  to  plough 
and  sow  among  rocks  and  thorns,  and  in  the  high-Avay; 
how  seldom  fall  we  upon  good  ground  !  Where  have  we 
any  increase  1  Yea,  Lord,  how  often  are  men  the  harder 
for  all  our  labours  with  them,  the  deader  for  all  endeavours 
to  quicken  them  1  Our  breath  kills  them  whom  thou  send- 
est  us  to  speak  life  to;  and  we  often  become  to  them  a 
deadly  savour.  Sometime,  when  we  think  somewliat  is 
done  to  purpose,  our  labour  all  returns,  and  we  are  to  begin 
again  ;  and  when  the  duties  we  persuade  to,  come  directly 
to  cross  men's  interests  and  carnal  inclinations,  the)'  revolt 
and  start  back,  as  if  we  were  urging  them  upon  flames,  or 
the  sword's  point ;  and  their  own  souls  and  the  eternal 
glory  are  regarded  as  a  thing  of  nought :  then  heaven  and 
hell  become  with  them  fancies  and  dreams ;  and  all  that 
we  have  said  to  them  false  and  fabulous.  We  are  to  the 
most  as  men  that  mock,  in  our  most  serious  warnings  and 
cotmsels ;  and  the  word  of  the  Lord  is  a  reproach.  We 
sometimes  fill  our  mouths  with  arguments,  and  our  hearts 
with  hope,  and  think,  sure  they  will  now  yield ;  but  they 
esteem  our  strongest  reasonings  (as  Leviathan  doth  iron 
and  brass)  but  as  straw  and  rotten  wood ;  and  laugh  at  Di- 
vine threatenings  as  he  doth  at  the  shaking  of  the  spear. 
Yea,  and  when  we  have  convinced  them,  yet  we  have  done 
nothing ;  though  we  have  got  their  judgments  and  con- 
sciences on  our  side  and  their  own,  their  lusts  only  reluc- 
tate and  carry  all.  They  will  now  have  their  way  though 
they  perish.  We  see  them  perishing  under  our  very  eye, 
and  we  cry  to  them  (in  thy  name,  O  Lord)  to  return  and 
live,  but  they  regard  us  not.  For  these  things,  sometimes 
we  weep  in  secret,  and  our  eyes  trickle  down  with  tears  ; 
yea,  we  cry  to  thee,  O  Lord,  and  thou  hearest  us  not ;  thy 
hand  seems  shortened,  that  it  cannot  save ;  it  puts  not  on 
strength  as  in  the  days  of  old :  it  hath  snatched  souls  by 
thousands,  as  firebrands  out  of  the  fire  ;  but  now  thou  hidest 
and  drawest  it  back.  Who  hath  believed  our  report  1  To 
whom  is  the  arm  of  the  Lord  revealed  1  Meanwhile  even 
the  devil's  instruments  prosper  more  than  we ;  and  he  that 
makes  it  hisbusiness  to  tempt  and  entice  down  souls  to  hell, 
succeeds  more  than  we  that  would  allure  them  to  heaven." 

But  we  must  speak,  whether  men  will  hear  or  forbear  ; 
though  it  concerns  us  to  do  it  with  fear  and  trembling. 
Oh,  how  solemn  a  business  is  it  to  treat  with  souls  !  and 
how  much  to  be  dreaded,  lest  they  miscarry  through  our 
imprudence  or  neglect !  I  write  with  solicitude  what  shall 
become  of  these  lines  ;  with  what  effect  they  will  be  read 
(if  they  fall  into  such  hands)  by  them  whom  they  most 
concern  :  yea,  and  with  some  doubt,  whether  it  were  best 
to  write  on  or  forbear.  Sometimes  one  would  incline  to 
think  it  a  merciful  omission,  lest  Ave  add  to  the  account 
and  torment  of  many  at  last ;  but  sense  of  duty  towards  all, 
and  hope  of  doing  good  to  some,  must  oversway.  Consi- 
dering therefore  the  state  of  such  souls  I  am  now  dealing 
with,  I  apprehend  there  may  be  obstructions  to  the  enter- 
tainment of  the  counsel  here  recommended,  of  two  sorts; 
partly  in  their  minds,  partly  in  their  hearts  ;  something  of 
appearing  reason,  but  more  of  real  perverse  will.  That 
which  I  shall  do  in  pursuance  of  it,  will  fall  under  two 
answ^erable  heads;  1.  A  reply  to  certain  doubts  and  ob- 
jections, wherein  to  meet  with  the  former  :  and — 2.  The 
proposal  of  some  considerations,  wherein  to  contend 
against  the  latter. 

As  to  the  first :  It  appears,  men  are  grown  ingeniously 
wicked,  and  have  learned  how  to  dispute  themselves  into 
hell ;  and  to  neglect  what  concerns  their  eternal  blessed- 
ness with  some  colour  and  pretence  of  reason.  It  will 
therefore  be  worth  the  while  to  discuss  a  little  their  more 
specious  preteno^e,  and  consider  their  more  obvious  (sup- 
posable)  scruples,  which  will  be  found  to  concern,  either 
the  po.ssibility,  lawfulness,  advantage,  or  necessity  of  the 
endeavours  we  persuade  to. 

Doubt  1.  Is  it  a  possible  undertaking  you  put  us  upon  ; 
or,  is  there  any  thing  we  can  do  in  order  to  the  change  of 
our  own  hearts'?  We  find  ourselves  altogether  undesirous 
20 


of  those  things  wherein  you  state  blessedness,  and  they  are 
without  savour  to  us.  If  therefore  the  notion  you  give  us 
of  blessedness  be  right,  all  the  work  necessary  to  qualify 
us  for  it  is  yet  to  be  done  ;  we  yet  remain  wholly  destitute 
of  any  principle  of  life,  that  may  dispose  us  to  such  re- 
lishes and  enjoyments.  If  the  new  creature  (as  you  say) 
consist  in  a  suitable  temper  of  spirit  unto  such  a  state  as 
this,  'lis  as  yet  wholly  unformed  in  us  :  and  is  there  any 
thing  to  be  done  by  a  dead  man  in  order  to  lifel  Can  a 
child  contribute  any  thing  to  its  first  formation"?  or  a 
creature  to  its  coming  into  being  1 

Reply.  If  you  were  serious  in  what  you  say,  methinks 
you  should  have  little  mind  to  play  the  sophisters,  and 
put  fallacies  upon  yourselves,  in  a  matter  that  concerns 
the  life  of  your  soul.  And  what  else  are  you  now  doing! 
For  sure,  otherwise  one  would  think  it  were  no  such  diffi- 
culty to  understand  the  difference  between  the  esse  simpli- 
citer,  the  viere  being  of  any  thing,  and  the  esse  tale,  its  Icing 
such  or  such ;  by  the  addition  of  somewhat  afterward  to 
that  being.  Though  nothing  could  contribute  to  its  own 
being  simply;  yet  sure  when  it  is  in  being,  it  may  contri- 
bute to  the  bettering  or  perfecting  of  itself,  (even  as  the 
unreasonable  creatures  themselves  do :)  and  if  it  be  a  crea- 
ture naturally  capable  of  acting  v.ith  design,  it  may  act 
designedl}'  in  order  to  its  becoming  so  or  so  qualified,  or 
the  attaining  of  somewhat  yet  wanting  to  its  perfection. 
You  cannot  be  thought  so  ignorant,  but  that  3'ou  know  the 
new  creature  is  only  an  additional  to  your  former  being  ; 
and  though  it  be  true,  that  it  can  do  no  more  to  its  own  pro- 
duction than  the  unconceived  child,  (as  nothing  can  act 
before  it  is,)  doth  it  therefore  follow,  that  3'our  reasonable 
soul,  in  which  it  is  to  be  formed,  cannot  use  God's  pre- 
scribed means  in  order  to  that  blessed  change  1  You  can- 
not act  holily  as  a  saint ;  but  therefore  can  you  not  act  ra- 
tionally as  a  manl  I  appeal  to  your  reason  and  conscience 
in  some  particulars.  Is  it  impossible  to  you  to  attend  upon 
the  dispensation  of  that  gospel,  which  is  God's  power 
unto  salvation,  the  seal  bj-  which  he  impresses  his  image, 
the  glass  through  which  his  glory  shines  to  the  changing 
souls  into  the  same  likeness  1  Are  you  not  as  able  to  go  to 
church  as  the  tavern ;  and  to  sit  in  the  assembly  of  saints  as 
of  mockers'?  Is  it  impossible  to  you,  to  consult  the  written 
word  of  God,  and  thence  learn  what  you  must  be,  and  do, 
in  order  to  blessedness  "?  Will  not  )'our  eyes  serve  you  to 
read  the  Bible  as  well  as  a  gazette  or  play-book  1  Is  it 
impossible  to  inquire  of  j'our  minister,  or  an  understand- 
ing Christian  neighbour,  concerning  the  way  and  terms  of 
blessedness "?  Cannot  your  tongue  pronounce  these  words, 
What  shall  I  do  to  be  saved,  as  well  as  those,  Pray  what 
do  you  think  of  the  weather  "?  or.  What  news  is  there  go- 
ing 1  Yet  further :  Is  it  impossible  to  apply  your  thoughts 
to  what  you  meet  with  suitable  to  your  case,  in  your  at- 
tendance upon  preaching,  reading,  or  discourse  1  Have 
all  such  words  a  barbarous  sound  in  your  ear  "?  Can  you 
not  consider  what  sense  is  carried  under  them  ;  what  they 
import  and  signify  1  Can  you  not  bethink  yourself,  Do 
the  doctrines  of  God  and  Christ  and  the  life  to  come, 
signif}'  something  or  nothing '?  or  do  they  signifj'  any 
thing  worth  the  considering,  or  that  'tis  fit  for  me  to  take 
notice  of  1 

And  yet  to  proceed  a  little  further  with  you :  I  pray  you 
once  more  demand  of  yourselves,  and  put  j'our  consciences 
closely  to  it.  whether,  when  they  have  told  you  (as  no 
doubt  the}' will)  that  such  things  deserve  your  considera- 
tion, it  be  impossible  to  you  to  use  your  considering  power 
thus,  and  employ  it  even  about  these  things'?  Do  but 
make  this  easy  trial,  and  then  say,  whether  it  be  impossi- 
ble. See  if  you  cannot  select  one  hour  on  purpose,  where- 
in to  sit  down  by  yourselves  alone,  with  this  resolution  ; 
Well,  I  will  now  spend  this  hour  in  considering  my  eter- 
nal concernments.  When  you  have  obtained  so  much  of 
j'ourself ;  set  your  thoughts  on  work,  (you  will  find  them 
voluble  and  unfixed,  very  apt  to  revolt  and  fly  ofl^  from 
things  you  have  no  mind  to,  but)  use  vour  authority  with 
yourself,  tell  your  soul  (or  let  it  tell"  itself)  these  things 
concerning  tliy  life.  At  least,  taking  this  prepared  matter 
alons:  with  thee,  (that  thou  mavst  not  have  this  pretence, 
thouknowcst  not  what  to  think  of,)  try  if  thou  canst  not 
think  of  these  things,  now  actually  suggested  and  offered 
to  thy  thoughts :  as  namely,  Consider,  that  thou  hast  a  rea- 


246 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OP  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


Chap.  XVII. 


sonable,  immortal  soul,  which  as  it  is  liable  to  eternal 
misery,  so  it  is  capable  of  eternal  blessedness:  that  this 
blessedness  thou  dost  understand  to  consist  only  in  the 
vision  of  the  blessed  God,  in  being  made  like  to  him,  and 
in  the  satisfaction  that  is  thence  to  result  and  accrue  to 
thee.  Consider,  (what  thy  very  objection  snpposeth,)  that 
thou  findest  the  temper  of  thy  spirit  to  be  altogether  indis- 
posed and  averse  to  such  blessedness.  Is  it  not  sol  is  not 
this  thy  very  easel  feel  now  again  thy  heart ;  try,  is  it  not 
at  least  coldly  affected  towards  this  blessed  state  1 

Is  it  not  then  obvious  to  thee  to  consider,  that  the  tem- 
per of  thy  Spirit  must  be  changed,  or  thou  art  undone  1 
that  inasmuch  as  thy  blessedness  lies  in  God,  this  change 
must  lie  in  the  alteration  of  thy  dispositions  and  the  pos- 
ture of  thy  spirit  towards  himl  Further,  Canst  thou  not 
consider  the  power  and  fixedness  of  thy  aversation  from 
God,  and  with  how  mighty  a  weight  thy  heart  is  carried 
and  held  down  from  him  1  Try,  lift  at  thy  heart,  see  if  it 
will  be  raised  God- ward  and  lieaven-ward  1  Dost  thou  not 
find  it  is  as  if  thou  wert  lifting  at  a  mountain,  that  it  lies 
as  a  dead  Aveight  and  stirs  not  1  Ponder  thy  case  in  this  re- 
spect. And  then,  is  it  not  to  be  considered,  that  thy  time 
is  passing  away  apace  1  that  if  thou  let  thyself  alone,  'tis 
likely  to  be  as  bad  with  thee  to-morrow  as  this  day,  and  as 
bad  next  day  as  to-morrow  1  And  if  thy  time  expire  and 
thou  be  snatched  away  in  this  state,  what  will  become  of 
thee  1  And  dost  thou  not  therefore  see  a  necessity  of  con- 
sidering whatever  may  be  most  moving  and  most  likely  to 
incline  thy  heart  God-ward,  of  pleading  it  more  loudly  and 
importunately  with  thyself  1  And  canst  thou  not  consider 
and  reason  the  matter  thus  1  "  O  my  soul,  what  is  the  rea- 
son that  thou  so  drawest  back  and  hangest  off  from  thy 
God  1  that  thou  art  so  unwillmg  to  be  blessed  in  him  1  that 
thou  shouldst  venture  to  rim  thyself  upon  eternal  perdition 
rather  1  What  cause  hath  he  ever  given  thee  to  disaffect 
him  1  What  is  the  ground  of  thy  so  mighty  prejudice? 
Hath  he  ever  done  thee  hurt  1  Dost  thou  think  he  will  not 
accept  a  returning  soull  That  is  to  give  the  lie  to  his  Gos- 
pel! and  it  becomes  not  a  perishing  wretch  so  to  provoke 
him  in  whom  is  all  its  hope.  Is  the  eternal  glory  an  un- 
desirable thing  1  or  the  everlasting  burnings  tolerable  1 
Canst  thou  find  away  of  being  forever  blessed  without  God; 
or  whether  he  will  or  no  1  or  is  there  a  sufficient  pleasure  in 
thy  sinful  distance  from  God,  to  outweigh  heaven  and  hell  1 
Darest  thou  venture  upon  a  resolution  of  giving  God  and 
Christ  their  last  refusal ;  or  say,  thou  wilt  never  hearken  to, 
or  have  to  do  with  them  morel  or  darest  thou  venture  to 
do  what  thou  darest  not  resolve;  and  act  the  wickedness 
thou  canst  not  think  ofl  scorn  eternal  majesty  and  love; 
spurn  and  trample  a  bleeding  Saviour  1"  Commune  thus 
awhile  with  thyself ;  but  if^'et  thou  find  thy  heart  relent 
nothing,  thou  canst  yet  further  consider,  that  it  lies  not  in 
thy  power  to  turn  thy  own  heart,  (or  else  how  comest  thou 
thus  to  object  1)  And  hence,  canst  thou  avoid  considering 
this  is  a  distressed  case  1  that  thou  art  in  great  straits ;  liable 
to  perish,  (yea,  sure  to  do  so  if  thou  continue  in  that  ill  tem- 
per of  spirit,)  and  wholly  vmable  to  help  thj-self  1  Surely 
thou  canst  not  but  see  this  to  be  a  most  distressed  case. 

I  put  it  now  to  thy  conscience,  whether  being  thus  led 
on,  thou  canst  not  go  thus  far  1  See  whether  upon  trial  thy 
conscience  give  thee  leave  to  say,  I  am  not  able  thus  to  do 
or  think :  and  be  not  here  so  foolish,  as  to  separate  the 
first  cause  and  the  second,  in  judging  thy  ability.  Thou 
mayst  say,  No,  I  cannot  think  a  good  thought  without  God ; 
true,  so  I  know  thou  canst  not  move  thy  finger  without 
God  ;  but  my  meaning  in  this  appeal  to  thy  conscience  is, 
■whether  upon  trial  thou  findest  not  an  assistance  sufficient 
to  carry  thee  thus  far  1  Possibly  thou  wilt  say,  Yea,  but 
what  am  I  the  better  1  I  am  only  brought  to  see  myself  in 
a  distressed  perishing  condition,  and  can  get  no  further.  I 
answer,  'Tis  well  thou  art  got  so  far,  if  thou  indeed  see 
thyself  perishing,  and  thy  drowsy  soul  awake  into  any 
sense  of  the  sadness  of  thy  case.  But  I  intend  not  thus  to 
leave  thee  here;  therefore  let  me  furthermore  demand  of 
thee,  What  course  wouldst  thou  take  in  any  other  distress, 
wherein  thou  knowest  not  what  to  do  to  help  thyself  1 
would  not  such  an  exigency,  when  thou  findest  thyself 
pinched  and  urged  on  every  side,  and  every  way  is  shut 
up  to  thee,  that  thou  art  beset  with  calamities",  and  canst  no 

a  Audio  vulgiis  cum  ad  coelum  manu9  tendunt  nilul  aliud  quet*  Deum  dicunt, 


way  turn  thyself  to  avoid  them ;  would  not  .such  an  exigency 
force  thee  down  on  thy  knees,  and  set  thee  a-crying  to  the 
God  of  mercy  for  relief  and  help  1  Would  not  nature  itself 
prompt  to  this  1  Is  it  not  natural  to  lift  up  hands  and  eyes  to 
heaven  when  we  know  not  what  to  do  1  "^  Therefore  having 
thus  far  reasoned  with  thee  about  thy  considering  power; 
let  me  demand  of  thee  if  thou  canst  yet  go  somewhat  further 
than  considering  1  that  i-s,  in  short,  Is  it  impossible  to  thee  to 
obey  this  dictate  of  nature  1  Imean,  represent  the  deplorable 
case  of  th}'  soul  before  him  that  made  it :  and  crave  his  mer- 
ciful relief.  Do  not  dispute  the  matter  ;  thou  canst  not  but 
see  this  is  a  possible  and  a  rational  course  as  thy  case  is. 
Should  not  a  people  seek  unto  their  God  1  Fall  down 
therefore  low  before  him ;  prostrate  thyself  at  the  foot- 
stool of  his  mercy  seat.  Tell  him,  thou  understandest  him 
to  be  the  Father  of  spirits,  and  the  Father  of  mercies  ;  that 
thou  hast  heard  of  his  great  mercy  and  pity  towards  the 
spirits  of  men  in  their  forlorn  lapsed  state  :  what  a  bless- 
edness he  hath  designed  for  them  ;  what  means  he  hath  de- 
signed to  bring  them  to  it.  Tell  him  thou  only  needest  a 
temper  of  spirit  suitable  to  this  blessedness  he  invites  thee 
to  1  that  thou  canst  not  master  and  change  thy  sensual, 
earthly  heart ;  thou  knowest  he  easily  can  ;  thou  art  to  im- 
plore his  help,  that  his  blessed  and  Holy  Spirit  may  de- 
scend and  breathe  upon  thy  stupid,  dead  soul ;  and  may 
sweetly  incline  and  move  it  towards  him ;  that  it  may 
eternally  resi  in  him ;  and  that  thou  may'st  not  perish, 
after  so  much  done  in  order  tO  thy  blessedness,  only  for 
want  of  a  heart  to  entertain  it.  Tell  him,  thou  comest 
upon  his  gracious  encouragement,  having  heard  he  is  as 
ready  to  give  his  Spirit  to  them  that  ask  him,  as  parents 
bread  to  their  craving  children  rather  than  a  stone  :  that 
'tis  for  life  thou  beggest :  that  'tis  not  so  easy  to  thee,  to 
think  of  perishing  for  ever;  that  thou  canst  not  desist  and 
give  up  all  thy  hopes ;  that  thou  shalt  be  in  hell  shortly  if 
he  hear  and  help  thee  not.  Lastly,  If  thus  thou  obtain 
any  communication  of  that  holy,  blessed  Spirit,  and  thou 
find  it  gently  moving  thy  dead  heart,  let  me  once  more  de- 
mand of  thee :  Is  it  impossible  to  forbear  this  or  that  ex- 
ternal act  of  sin  at  this  time,  when  thou  art  tempted  to  it  1 
sure  thou  canst  not  say,  'tis  impossible.  What  necessitates 
thee  to  it  1  And  then  certainly  thou  may'st  as  well  ordi- 
narily withhold  thyself  from  running  into  such  customary 
sensualities,  as  to  tend  to  grieve  the  Spirit,  debauch  con- 
science, stupify  thy  soul,  and  hide  God  from  thee.  And 
if  thou  canst  do  all  this,  do  not  fool  thy  slothful  soul  with 
as  idle  a  conceit,  that  thou  hast  nothing  to  do,  but  to  sit 
still,  expecting  till  thou  drop  into  hell. 

Doubt  2.  But  have  I  not  reason  to  fear,  I  shall  but  add 
sin  to  sin  in  all  this  1  and  so  increase  the  burden  of  guilt 
upon  my  soul ;  and  by  endeavouring  to  better  my  case, 
make  it  far  worse.  Two  things  I  consider,  that  suggest  to 
me  this  fear, — the  manner  and  end  of  the  duties  you  put 
me  upon,  as  they  will  be  done  by  me  in  the  case  wherein 
I  apprehend  myself  yet  to  lie. — 1.  Manner.  As  to  the 
positive  action  you  advise  to,  I  have  heard,  the  be.st  actions 
of  an  unregenerate  person  are  sins,  through  the  sinfulness 
of  their  manner  of  doing  them  ;  though  as  to  the  matter  of 
the  thing  done,  they  be  enjoined  and  good  :  and  though  it 
be  true,  that  the  regenerate  cannot  perform  a  sinless  duty 
neither;  yet  their  persons  and  works  being  covered  over 
with  the  righteousness  of  Christ,  are  looked  upon  as  having 
no  sin  in  them,  which  I  apprehend  to  be  none  of  my  case. 
— 2.  End.  You  put  upon  me  these  things  in  order  to  the 
attaining  of  blessedness;  and  to  do  such  things  with  intu- 
ition to  a  reward,  is  to  be  (as  maybe  doubted)  unwarrant- 
able, mercenary,  and  servile. 

Rcphi.  First,  As  to  this  former  reason  of  your  doubt, 
methinks  the  proposal  of  it  answers  it.  Forasmuch  as  you 
acknowledge  the  matter  of  these  actions  to  be  good  and 
duty,  (and  plain  it  is  they  are  moral  duties,  of  common 
perpetual  concernment  to  all  persons  and  times,)  dare  you 
decline  or  dispute  against  your  duty  1  Sure  if  we  compare 
the  evil  of  what  is  so  substantially  in  itself,  and  what  is 
so  circumstantially,  only  by  the  adherence  of  some  undue 
modus  or  manner :  it  cannot  be  hard  to  determine  which 
is  the  greater  and  more  dreadful  evil.  As  to  the  pre.'^ent 
case ;  shouldst  thou  when  the  great  God  sends  abroad  his 
proclamation  of  pardon  and  peace,  refuse  to  attend  it, 
vulgi  iste  naturalis  est  genno.    Min.  FeJ.  Octav. 


Chap.   XVII. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


247 


to  consider  the  contents  of  it,  and  thy  own  case  in  re- 
ference thereto,  and  thereupon  to  sue  to  him  lor  the  life  of 
thy  own  souH  Dost  thou  not  plainly  see  thy  refusal  must 
needs  be  more  provoking  than  thy  defective  performance"? 
This,  speaks  disability,  but  that,  rebellion  and  contempt.b 
Besides,  dost  thou  not  see,  that  thy  objection  lies  as  much 
against  every  other  action  of  thy  life  ']  The  wise  man  tells 
us,<=  the  ploughing  of  the  wicked  is  sin  ;  (if  that  he  literally 
to  be  understood  ;)  and  what,  wouldst  thou  therefore  sit  still 
and  do  nothing  1  Then  how  soon  would  that  idleness 
draw  on  gross  wickedness !  And  would  not  that  be  a 
dreadful  confutation  of  thyself,  if  thou  who  didst  pretend 
a  scruple,  that  thou  mightest  not  pray,  read,  hear,  meditate, 
shalt  not  scruple  to  play  the  glutton,  the  drunkard,  the 
wanton,  and  indulge  thyself  in  all  riot  and  excess  1  Yea,  if 
thou  do  not  break  out  into  such  exorbitancies,  would  any 
one  think  him  serious  that  should  say,  it  were  against  his 
conscience  to  be  working  out  his  salvation,  and  striving  to 
enter  in  at  the  strait  gate ;  seeking  first  the  kingdom  of 
God,  &c.  Would  not  this  sound  strangely  1  And  espe- 
cially, that  in  the  meantime  it  should  never  be  against 
his  conscience,  to  trifle  away  his  time,  and  live  in  perpetual 
neglects  of  God,  in  persevering  atheism,  infidelity,  hardness 
of  heart,  never  regretted  or  striven  against;  asif  these  were 
more  innocent  1  And  what  thou  sayst  of  the  different 
case  of  the  regenerate,  is  impertinent ;  for  as  to  this  matter 
the  case  is  not  diflerent,  they  that  take  themselves  to  be 
such,  must  not  think  that  by  their  supposed  interest  in  the 
righteousness  of  Christ,  their  real  sins  cease  to  be  such, 
they  only  become  pardoned  sins  ;  and  shall  they  therefore 
sin  more  boldly  than  other  men,  because  they  are  surer  of 
pardon  1 

Secondly,  As  to  the  other  ground  of  this  doubt,  there 
can  only  be  a  fear  of  sinning,  upon  this  account,  to  them 
that  make  more  sins  and  duties  than  God  hath  made.  The 
doubt  supposes  religion  inconsistent  with  humanity  :  and 
that  God  were  about  to  rase  out  of  the  nature  of  man,  one 
of  the  most  radical  and  fundamental  laws  written  there, — 
a  desire  of  blessedness ; — and  supposes  it  against  the  ex- 
press .scope  and  tenor  of  his  whole  gospel  revelation.  For 
what  doth  that  design,  but  to  bring  men  to  blessedness  1 
And  how  is  it  a  means  to  compass  that  design,  but  as  it 
tends  to  engage  man's  spirits  to  design  it  too  1  unless  we 
would  imagine  they  should  go  to  heaven  blindfold,  or  be 
rolled  thither  as  stones  that  know  not  whither  they  are 
moved;  in  which  case  the  gospel,  that  reveals  the  eternal 
glory,  and  the  way  to  it,  were  a  useless  thing.  If  so  express 
words  had  not  been  in  the  Bible,  as  that  Moses  had  respect 
to  the  recompense  of  reward ;  yea,  that  our  Lord  Jesus 
himself,  for  the  joy  set  before  him  endured  the  cross,  &c., 
this  had  been  a  little  more  colourable,  or  more  modest. 
And  what,  do  not  all  men,  in  all  the  ordinary  actions  of 
their  lives,  act  allowably  enough,  with  intuition  to  much 
lower  endsl  even  those  particular  ends  which  the  works 
of  their  several  callings  tend  to,  else  they  should  act  as 
brutes  in  every  thing  they  do.  And  would  such  a  one  scru- 
ple, if  he  were  pining  for  want  of  bread,  to  beg  or  labour 
for  it  for  this  end,  to  be  relieved  1  'Tis  the  mistaking  of  the 
notion  of  heaven  that  hath  also  an  ingrediency  into  this 
doubt,  if  it  be  really  a  doubt.  Whaf?  is  it  a  low  thing  to  be 
filled  with  the  Divine  fulness  1  to  have  his  glory  replenish- 
ing our  souls  1  to  be  perfectly  freed  from  sin?  in  every 
thing  conformed  unto  this  holy  nature  and  will  1  That  our 
minding  our  interest  in  this,  or  any  affairs,  should  be  the 
principal  thing  with  us,  is  not  to  be  thought;  our  supreme 
end  must  be  the  same  with  his,  who  made  all  things  for 
himself,  of  whom,  through  whom,  and  to  whom  all  things 
are,  that  he  alone  might  have  the  glory.  But  subordinates 
need  not  quarrel.  A  lower  end  doth  not  exclude  the  higher, 
but  serves  it :  and  is,  as  to  it,  a  means.  God  is  our  end  as 
he  is  to  be  glorified  and  enjoyed  by  us :  our  glorifying 
him  is  but  the  agniiion  of  his  glory ;  which  we  do  most  in 
beholding  and  partaking  it;  which  is  therefore  in  direct 
subordination  thereto. 

Doitbt  3.  But  it  may  further  be  doubted.  What  if  it  be 
acknowledged,  that  these  are  both  things  possible  and  law- 
ful ;  yet  to  what  purpose  will  it  be  to  attempt  any  thing  in 

b  Therefore  as  to  that  fbnn  of  expression— tliat  such  acts  of  unregenerate 
men  are  sm<i.~that  is  a  catachrestical  piece  of  rhetoric,  whicli  boineso  under- 
■tood,  is  harmless ;  but  to  use  it  iii  propriety  of  speech,  and  thence  to  go 


this  kind  1  O  what  assurance  have  I  of  success  1  Is  there 
any  word  of  pr(.iinise  lor  the  encouragement  of  one  in  my 
case  1  Or  is  God  under  any  obligation  to  reward  the  en- 
deavours of  nature  with  special  grace  1  Wherefore,  when 
I  have  done  all  I  can,  he  may  withhold  his  influence,  and 
then  I  am  but  where  I  was,  and  may  perish  notwithstand- 
ing. And  suppose  thou  perish  notwithstanding  ■?  Do  but 
yet  consult  a  little  with  thy  own  thoughts:  which  is  more 
tolerable  and  easy  to  thee  ;  to  perish,  as  not  attaining  what 
thy  fainter  stragglings  could  not  reach  ;  or  lor  the  most 
direct,  wilful  rebellion,  doing  wickedly  as  thou  couldst  1 
Or  who  shall  have,  thinkest  thou,  the  more  fearful  con- 
demnation 1  He  that  shall  truly  say  when  his  Master 
comes  to  judgment,  "  I  never  had  indeed,  Lord,  a  heart  so 
fully  changed  and  turned  to  thee,  as  should  denote  me  to 
be  the  subject  of  thy  saving,  pardoning  mercy;  but  thou 
knowest  (whoknowest  all  things)  I  longed  (and  with  some 
earnestness)  did  endeavour  it.  Thou  hast  been  privy  to 
my  secret  desires  and  moans,  to  the  weak  strivings  of  a 
listless  distempered  spirit,  not  pleased  with  itself,  aiming 
at  a  better  temper  towards  thee.  I  neglected  not  thy  pre- 
scribed means ;  only  that  grace  which  I  could  not  chal- 
lenge, thou  wast  pleased  not  to  give:  thou  didst  require 
what  I  must  confess  myself  to  have  owed  thee ;  thou  didst 
withhold  only  what  thou  owedst  me  not ;  therefore  must  I 
yield  myself  a  convicted,  guilty  wretch,  and  have  nothing 
to  say  why  thy  sentence  should  not  pass."  Or  he  that  shall 
as  truly  hear  from  the  mouth  of  his  Judge,  "  Sinner,  thou 
wast  often  fore-warned  of  this  approaching  day,  and  called 
upon  to  provide  for  it ;  thou  hadst  precept  upon  precept, 
and  line  upon  line.  The  counsels  of  life  and  peace  were 
with  frequent  importunity  pressed  upon  thee,  but  thou  re- 
jectedst  all  with  proud  contempt,  didst  despise  with  the 
same  profane  scorn  the  ofi'ers,  commands,  and  threats,  of 
him  that  made  thee  ;  hardenedst  thy  heart  to  the  most  ob- 
stinate rebellion  against  his  known  laws;  didst  all  the 
wickedness  to  which  thy  heart  prompted  thee,  without  re- 
straint ;  declinedst  every  thing  of  duty  which  his  autho- 
rity, and  the  exigency  of  thy  owTi  case,  did  oblige  thee  to; 
didst  avoid  as  much  as  thou  couldst  to  hear  or  know  any 
thing  of  my  will;  couldst  not  find  one  serious,  considering 
hour  in  a  whole  life-time,  to  bethink  thyself,  what  was 
likely  to  become  of  thee  when  thy  place  on  earth  should 
know  thee  no  more.  Thou  mightst  know,  thou  wast  at  my 
mercy,  thy  breath  in  my  hand,  and  that  I  could  easily 
have  cut  thee  ofl^  an}^  moment  of  that  large  space  of  time 
my  patience  allowed  thee  in  the  world ;  yet  thou  never 
thoughtest  it  worth  the  while  to  sue  to  me  for  thy  life.  De- 
struction from  the  Lord  was  never  a  terror  to  thee.  Thou 
wouldst  never  be  brought  upon  thy  knees  ;  I  had  none  of 
thy  addresses  ;  never  didst  thou  sigh  out  a  serious  request 
for  mercy ;  thy  soul  was  not  worth  so  much  in  thy  ac- 
count. Thy  blood,  wretch,  be  upon  thy  guilty  head  :  De- 
part, accursed,  into  everlasting  flames,"  &c. 

Come  now^,  use  thy  reason  awhile,  employ  a  few  sober 
thoughts  about  this  matter ;  remember,  thou  wilt  have  a 
long  eternity  wherein  to  recognise  the  passages  of  thy  life, 
and  the  state  of  thy  case  in  the  last  judgment.  Were  it 
supposable,  that  one  who  had  done  as  the  former,  should 
be  left  finally  destitute  of  Divine  grace  and  perish;  yet  in 
which  of  these  cases  wouldst  thou  choose  to  be  found  at 
last  1  But  why  yet  should.st  thou  imagine  so  bad  an  issue, 
as  that  after  thine  utmost  endeavours,  grace  should  be 
withheld,  and  leave  thee  to  perish  ;  because  Grod  hath  not 
bound  himself  by  promise  to  thee  1  What  promise  have 
the  ravens  to  be  heard  when  they  cryl  But  thou  art  a 
sinner:  true,  otherwise  thon  wert  not  without  promise;  the 
promises  of  the  first  covenant  would  at  least  belong  to  thee. 
Yet  experience  tells  the  world,  his  unpromised  mercies 
freely  flow  everywhere  :  The  whole  earth  is  full  of  his 
goodness;  yea,  but  his  special  grace  is  conveyed  b)-  pro- 
mise only,  and  that  only  through  Christ ;  and  how  can  it 
be  communicated  Ihrough  him  to  any  but  those  that  are  in 
him  1  What  then,  is  the  first  in-being  in  Christ  no  special 
grace  1  or  is  there  any  being  in  him  before  the  first,  that 
should  be  the  ground  of  that  gracious  conmiunication  % 
Things  are  plain  enough,  if  we  make  them  not  intricate, 

alx)ut  to  make  men  believe,  that  'tis  a  sin  to  do  their  duty,  is  void  bioth  of 
trutli  and  sense,  and  full  of  danger  unto  tlwj  souls  of  men. 
c  Prov.  xsi.  4. 


248 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  I'HE  RIGHTEOUa 


CiiAP.  XVII. 


or  entangle  ourselves  by  foolish  subtleties.  God  promises 
sinners  indefinitely,  pardon  and  eternal  lite,  fortiie  sake  of 
Christ,  on  condition  that  they  believe  on  him.  He  gives 
of  his  good  pleasure  that  grace  whereby  he  draws  any  to 
Christ,  without  promise  directly  made  to  them,  whether 
absolute  or  conditional ;  though  he  give  it  for  the  sake  of 
Christ  also.  His  discovery  of  his  purpose  to  give  such 
grace  to  some,  indefinitely,  amounts  not  to  a  promise 
claimable  by  any :  for  if  it  be  said  to  be  an  absolute  pro- 
mise to  particular  persons,  who  are  they  1  whose  duty  is 
it  to  believe  it  made  to  him  1  If  conditional,  what  are  the 
conditions  upon  which  the  first  grace  is  certainly  promis- 
ed 1  who  can  be  able  to  assign  them  1  Bnt,  poor  soul ! 
thou  needest  not  stay  to  puzzle  thyself  about  this  matter. 
God  binds  himself  to  do  what  he  promises;  but  hath  he 
any  where  bound  himself  to  do  no  morel  Did  he  promise 
thee  thy  being ;  or  that  thou  shouldst  live  to  this  day  1  did 
he  promise  thee  the  bread  that  sustains  thee,  the  daily 
comforts  of  thy  life  1  Yea,  (what  is  nearer  the  present 
purpose,)  did  he  promise  thee  a  station  under  the  gospel  7 
or  that  thou  shouldst  ever  hear  the  name  of  Christ  1  If 
ever  his  Spirit  have  in  any  degi'ee  moved  upon  thy  heart, 
inclined  thee  at  all  seriously  to  consider  thy  eternal  con- 
cernments, did  he  before-hand  make  thee  any  promise  of 
that  1  A  promise  would  give  thee  a  full  certainty  of  the 
issue,  if  it  were  absolute,  out  of  hand  ;  if  conditional,  as 
soon  as  thou  findest  the  condition  performed.  But  what! 
canst  thou  act  upon  no  lower  rate  than  a  foregoing  cer- 
tainty, a  pre-assurance  of  the  event  1  My  friend,  consider 
a  little,  (what  thou  canst  not  but  know  already,)  that  'tis 
hope  (built  with  those  that  are  rational,  upon  rational  pro- 
babilities, with  many,  oftentimes  upon  none  at  all)  is  the 
great  engine  that  moves  the  world,  that  kee])s  all  sorts  of 
men  in  action.  Doth  the  husbandman  foreknow  when  he 
plows  and  sows,  that  the  crop  will  answer  his  cost  and 
pains  1  Doth  the  merchant  foreknow,  when  he  embarks 
his  goods,  he  shall  have  a  safe  and  gainful  return  1  Dost 
thou  foreknow,  when  thou  eatest,  it  shall  refresh  theel 
when  thou  takest  physic,  that  it  shall  recover  thy  health, 
and  save  thy  life  1  Yea,  further,  can  the  covetous  man 
pretend  a  promise,  that  his  unjust  practices  shall  enrich 
him"?  the  malicious, that  he  shall  prosper  in  his  design  of 
revenge  1  the  ambitious,  that  he  shall  be  great  and  ho- 
nourable 1  the  voluptuous,  that  his  pleasure  shall  be  always 
unmixed  with  gall  and  wormwood  1  Can  any  say,  they 
ever  had  a  promise  to  ascertain  them  that  profaneness  and 
sensuality  would  bring  them  to  heaven  1  that  an  ungodly, 
dissolute  life  would  end  in  blessedness  1  Here  the  Lord 
knows  men  can  be  confident  and  active  enough  without  a 
promise,  and  against  many  an  express  threatening.  Wilt 
thou  not  upon  the  hope,  thou  hast  before  thee,  do  as  much 
for  thy  soul,  for  eternal  blessedness,  as  men  do  for  uncer- 
tain riches,  short  pleasures,  an  airy,  soon  blasted  name  1 
yea,  as  much  as  men  desperately  do  to  damn  themselves, 
and  purchase  their  own  swift  destruction  1  Or  canst  thou 
pretend,  though  thou  hast  no  pre-assuring  promise,  thou 
hast  no  hope  1  Is  it  nothing  to  have  heard  so  much  of 
God's  gracious  nature  1  Is  it  suitable  to  the  reports  and 
discoveries  he  hath  made  of  himself,  to  let  a  poor  wretch 
perish  at  his  feet,  that  lies  prostrate  there,  expecting  his 
mercy  1  Didst  thou  ever  hear  he  was  so  little  a  lover  of 
souls  ?  Do  his  giving  his  Son,  his  earnest  unwearied 
strivings  with  sinners,  his  long  patience,  the  clear  beams 
of  Gospel  light,  the  amiable  appearance  of  his  grace,  give 
ground  for  no  better,  no  kinder  thoughts  of  him  1  yea, 
hath  he  not  expressly  styled  himself  the  God  hearing 
prayers,  taking  a  name  on  purpose  to  encourage  dall  flesh 
to  come  to  him.  Wilt  thou  dare  then  to  adopt  those  pro- 
fane words,  « What  profit  is  it  to  pray  to  him"?  and  say, 
'tis  better  to  sit  still,  resolving  to  perish,  than  address  "to 
him,  or  seek  his  favour,  because  he  hath  not  by  promise 
assured  thee  of  the  issue,  and  that,  if  he  suspend  his  grace, 
all  thou  dost  will  be  in  vain  1  How  wouldst  thou  judge  of 
the  like  resolution,  if  the  husbandman  should  say,  When 
I  have  spent  my  pains  and  cost  in  breaking  up  and  pre- 
paring the  earth,  and  casting  in  my  seed  ;  if  the  sun  shine 
not,  and  the  rain  fall  not  in  season,  if  the  influences  of 
heaven  be  suspended,  if  God  withhold  his  blessing,  or  if 

d  Psal.  \%v.  3.  e  Job  xxi.  15. 

1  NcctiSBitas  tnedii 


an  invading  enemy  anticipate  my  harvest,  all  I  do  and  ex- 
pend is  to  no  purpose  ;  and  God  hath  not  ascertained  me  of 
the  contrary,  by  express  promise  ;  'lis  as  good  therefore  sit 
still  1    Censure  and  answer  him  and  thyself  both  together. 

Dovbt  4.  But  thou  wilt  yet,  it  may  be,  say,  that  though 
all  this  may  be  possible  true,  yet  thou  canst  not  all  this 
while  be  convinced  of  any  need  so  earnestly  to  busy  thy- 
self about  this  affair.  For  God  is  wont  to  surprise  souls 
by  preventing  acts  of  grace,  to  be  found  of  them  that 
sought  him  not,  to  break  in  by  an  irresistible  power,  which 
they  least  thought  of  And  to  go  about  to  anticipate  his 
grace,  were  to  detract  from  the  freeness,  and  so  from  the 
glory,  of  it. 

Ri:ply.  But  art  thou  not  in  all  this  afraid  of  charging 
God  foolishly  1  When  the  merciful  God,  in  compassion 
to  the  souls  of  men,  hath  given  his  Gospel ;  constituted 
and  settled  a  standing  office  to  be  perpetuated  through  all 
ages  for  the  publication  of  it ;  invited  the  world  therein  to 
a  treaty  with  him,  touching  the  concernments  of  their 
eternal  peace  ;  required  so  strictly  their  attendance  to,  and 
most  serious  consideration  of  his  proposals  and  offers;  en- 
couraged and  commanded  their  addresses  to  him,  set  up 
a  throne  of  grace  on  purpose ;  wilt  thou  dare  to  say,  all 
this  is  needless  1  When  God  speaks  to  thee,  is  it  needless 
for  thee  to  hear  him,  or  regard  what  he  saith  %  or  when 
he  commands  thee  to  pour  forth  thy  soul  to  him,  wilt  thou 
say,  'tis  a  needless  thing  1  Dost  thou  not  plainly  see,  that 
the  peculiar,  appropriate  aptitude  to  the  things  pressed 
upon  thee,  speaks  them  fnecesxary,  as  means  to  their  de- 
signed end ;  whence  they  are  fitly  called  s  means  of 
grace  1  Is  not  the  word  of  God  the  immortal  seed  1  Are 
not  souls  begotten  by  that  word  to  be  the  first-fruits  of  his 
creatures  l  Is  it  not  the  type,  the  mould,  or  print  by 
which  Divine  impressions  are  put  upon  the  soul;  the  in- 
strument by  which  he  sanctifies!  Are  not  the  exceeding 
great  and  precious  promises,  the  vchicula,  the  conveyancers 
h  of  the  Divine  nature  1  And  what  can  be  the  means  to 
mollify  and  melt  the  obdurate  heart  of  a  sinner,  to  assuage 
its  enmity,  to  overcome  it  into  the  love  of  God,  to  trans- 
form it  into  his  image,  but  the  gospel  discovery  of  God's 
own  gracious  and  holy  nature  1  And  can  it  operate  to  this 
purpose  w^ithout  being  heard,  or  read,  or  understood,  and 
considered,  and  taken  to  heart  1  Do  but  compare  this 
means  God  works  by,  with  the  subject  to  be  wrought  upon, 
and  the  effect  to  be  wrought,  and  nothing  can  be  conceived 
more  adequate  and  fitly  corresponding.  But  inasmuch 
as  there  hath  been  an  enmity  between  God  and  sinners, 
and  that  therefore  the  whole  entire  means  of  reconcilia- 
tion must  be  a  treaty;  and  that  a  treaty  cannot  be  ma- 
naged or  conceived  without  mutual  interlocution  ;  there- 
fore must  the  sinner  have  a  way  of  expressing  its  own 
sense  to  God,  as  well  as  he  speaks  his  mind  to  it ;  which 
shows  the  necessity  of  prayer  too ;  and  therefore,  because 
the  peace  begins  on  his  part,  (though  the  war  began  on 
ours,)  he  calls  upon  sinners  to  open  themselves  to  him ; 
i  Come  now,  let  us  reason  together  ;  he  invites  addresses  ; 
Seek  the  Lord  while  he  may  be  found,  and  call  upon  him 
while  he  is  nigh,  &c.  And  doth  not  the  natural  relation 
itself  between  the  Creator  and  a  creature  require  this,  be- 
sides the  exigency  of  our  present  easel  Every  creature 
is  a  supplicant ;  its  necessary  dependance  is  a  natural 
prayer.  The  eyes  of  all  things  look  up,  &c.  'Tis  the 
proper  glory  of  a  Deity  to  be  depended  on  and  addressed 
to.  k  Should  not  a  people  seek  unto  their  God  1  'Tis  an 
appeal  to  reason;  is  it  not  a  congruous  thing  1 

Further,  Dost  thou  not  know  thy  maker's  will  i  made 
known  infers  upon  thee  a  7iecessity  of  obeying  ;  unless  thou 
think  the  breach  between  God  and  thee  is  better  to  be 
healed  by  rebellion ;  and  that  the  only  way  to  expiate 
wickedness,  were  to  continue  and  multiply  it.  Is  it  a 
needless  thing  to  comply  with  the  will  of  him  that  gave 
thee  breath  and  being?  and  whose  power  is  so  absolute 
over  thee,  as  to  all  thy  conceinments,  both  of  time  and 
eternity  1  Again,  while  thou  pretendest  these  things  are 
needless,  come  now,  speak  out  freely;  what  are  the  more 
necessary  affairs  wherein  thou  art  so  deeply  engaged,  that 
thou  canst  not  suffer  a  diversion "?  What,  is  the  service 
and  gratification  of  thy  flesh  and  sense  so  important  a 

g  1  Pet  i  23.  Jam  i.  IS.  Rom.  n.  17.    Jolin  xvii.  17.  h  2  Pet.  i. 

I  Isa.  i  chap.  Iv.  k  Isa.  viit.  19.  1  Necexsitas  pnecepti. 


Chap.  XVII. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


219 


business,  that  thou  canst  be  at  no  leisure  forthat  more  need- 
less work  of  saving  thy  soul  1  Where  is  thy  reason  and  mo- 
desty 1  Dost  ihou  mind  none  other,  from  day  to  da)'^,  but 
necessary  ailairs  1  Dost  thou  use,  when  thou  art  templed 
to  vain  dalliances,  empty  discourses,  intemperate  indul- 
gence to  thy  appetite,  so  to  answer  the  temptation.  Is  it 
not  necessary  1  Or  art  thou  so  destitute  of  all  conscience 
and  shame,  to  think  it  unnecessary  to  work  out  thy  salva- 
tion, to  strive  to  enter  in  at  the  strait  gate  that  leads  to 
life  1  but  most  indispensably  necessary  to  be  very  critically 
curious  about  what  thou  shalt  eat  and  drink,  and  put  on; 
and  how  to  spend  thj'  time  with  greatest  ease  and  pleasure 
to  thy  flesh,  that  it  may  not  have  the  least  cause  to  complain 
it  is  "neglected  1  Thy  pretence,  "•  that  God  is  wont  to  be 
found  of  them  that  sought  him  not,  to  the  purpose  thou 
intendest  it,  is  a  most  ignorant  or  malicious  abuse  of 
Scripture.  The  prophet  is,  in  that  text,  foretelling  the 
calling  of  the  Gentiles,  who,  while  they  remained  such, 
did  not  ('tis  true)  inquire  after  God ;  but  "then  he  expressly 
tells  us,  (personating  God,)  I  am  sought  of  them  that 
asked  not  for  me,  (that  is,  after  the  gospel  came  among 
them,)  and  then  it  is  added,  I  am  found  (upon  this  seek- 
ing, plainly)  of  them,  that  sought  me  not  (i.  e.  who  once 
in  their  former  darkness,  before  I  revealed  myself  in  the 
Gospel  dispensation  to  them,  sought  me  not:)  q.  d.  I  am  now 
sought  of  a  people  that  lately  sought  me  not,  nor  asked 
after  me,  and  I  am  found  of  them.  But  what  is  this  to 
thy  case;  whom  God  hath  been,  in  the  Gospel,  earnestly 
inviting  to  seek  after  him,  and  thou  all  this  while  refusest 
to  comply  with  the  invitation '? 

And  suppose  thou  hear  of  some  rare  instances  of  per- 
sons, suddenly  snatched  by  the  hand  of  grace  out  of  the 
midst  of  their  wickedness,  as  fire-brands  out  of  the  fire,  is 
it  therefore  the  safest  course  to  go  on  in  a  manifest  rebel- 
lion against  God,  till  possibly  he  may  do  so  by  thee  also  1 
How  many  thousands  may  have  dropped  into  hell  since 
thou  heardest  of  such  an  instance  1  as  a  worthy  person 
speaks  to  that  purpose,  n  If  thou  hast  heard  of  one  Elijah 
fed  by  ravens,  and  of  some  thousands  by  our  Saviour's 
miracles,  canst  thou  thence  plead  a  repeal  of  that  law  to 
the  world,  They  that  will  not  labour  shall  not  eat  1  Or  is 
it  a  safer  or  wiser  course  to  wait  till  food  drop  into  thy 
mouth  from  heaven,  than  to  use  a  prudent  care  for  the 
maintenance  of  thy  life  'I  If  thou  say,  thou  hearest  but  of 
few  that  are  wrought  upon  in  this  way,  of  their  own  fore- 
going expectation  and  endeavour  ;  remember,  (and  let  the 
thought  of  it  startle  thee,)  that  there  are  but  few  that  are 
saved.  And  therefore  are  so  few  wrought  upon  in  this 
way,  because  so  few  will  be  persuaded  to  it.  But  canst 
thou  say,  (though  God  hath  not  bound  himself  to  the  mere 
natural  endeavours  of  his  creature  neither,)  that  ever  any 
took  this  course,  and  persisted  with  faithful  diligence,  but 
they  succeeded  in  it  1  What  thou  talkest  of  the  freeness  of 
God's  grace,  looks  like  a  hypocritical  pretence.  Is  there 
no  way  to  honour  his  grace,  but  by  aflfronting  his  autho- 
rity! but  to  sin,  that  grace  may  abound  1  Sure  grace  will 
be  better  pleased  by  obedience,  than  by  such  sacrifice. 
For  a  miserable,  perishing  wretch,  to  use  GckI's  means  to 
help  it.self,  doth  that  look  like  merit  1  Is  the  beggar  afraid 
thou  shouldst  interpret  his  coming  to  thy  door  and  seeking 
thy  alms,  to  signify,  as  if  he  thought  he  had  deserved  them  1 
I  hope  thou  wilt  acknowledge  thyself  less  than  the  least 
of  all  God's  mercies,  and  that  thou  canst  not  deserve  from 
him  a  morsel  of  bread;  mayst  thou  not  therefore  in  thy 
necessity  labour  for  thy  living,  lest  thou  shouldst  intrench 
upon  tlie  freeness  of  Divine  bounty"?  With  as  much  wis- 
dom and  reeison  mightst  thou  decline  the  use  of  all  other 
means  to  pneserve  thy  life,  (which  thou  must  owe  always 
to  free  mercy,)  to  eat  when  thou  art  hungry,  to  take  physic 
when  thou  art  sick,  lest  thou  shouldst  intimate  thyself  to 
have  merited  the  strength  and  health  sought  thereby.  Nor 
can  I  think  of  any  rational  pretence  that  can  more  platisi- 
bly  be  insisted  on,  than  these  that  have  been  thus  briefly 
discussed.  And  it  must  needs  be  difficult  to  bring  any 
appearance  of  reason  for  the  patronage  of  so  ill  a  cause, 
xs  the  careless  giving  up  of  a  man's  soul  to  perish  eternally, 
that  is  visibly  capable  of  eternal  blessedness.  And  cer- 
tainly were  we  once  apprehensive  of  the  case,  the  attempt 
of  di.sputing  a  man  into  such  a  resolution,  would  appear 
m  ba.  Ixv.  I.  n  Mr.  Baxter. 


much  more  ridiculous,  than  if  one  should  grav<r]y  urge 
arguments  to  all  the  neighbourhood,  to  persuade  them  to 
burn  their  houses,  to  put  out  their  eyes,  to  kill  their  chil- 
dren, and  cut  their  own  throats.  And  sure,  let  all  ima- 
ginable pretences  be  debated  to  their  uttermost,  and  it 
will  appear,  that  nothing  withholds  men  from  putting  forth 
all  their  might  in  the  endeavour  of  getting  a  spirit  suitable 
to  this  blessedness,  but  an  obstinate!}' perverse  and  sluggish 
heart,  despoiled  and  naked  of  all  show  of  reason  and  ex- 
cuse. And  though  that  be  a  hard  teusk  to  reason  against 
mere  will,  yet  that  being  the  way  to  make  men  willing, 
and  the  latter  part  of  the  work  proposed  in  pursuance  of 
this  direction,  1  shall  recommend  only  such  considerations 
as  the  text  itself  will  suggest,  for  the  stirring  up  and  per- 
suading of  slothful,  reluctant  hearts,  choosing  those  as  the 
most  proper  limits,  and  not  being  willing  to  be  infinite 
herein,  as  amidst  so  great  a  variety  of  considerations  to 
that  purpose,  one  might. 

That  in  general  which  I  shall  propose,  shall  be  only  the 
misery  of  the  unrighteous ;  whereof  we  may  take  a  view 
in  the  opposite  blessedness  here  described.  The  contra- 
dictories whereto  will  afford  a  "negative,  the  contraries  a 
positive,  description  of  this  misery.  So  that  each  consider- 
ation will  be  double;  which  I  shall  now  rather  glance  at 
than  insist  upon. 

1.  Consider  then.  If  thou  be  found  at  last  unqualified 
for  this  blessedness,  how  wilt  thou  bear  it  to  be  banished 
eternally  from  the  blessed  face  of  God  1  There  will  be 
those  that  shall  behold  that  face  in  righteousness ;  so  shalt 
not  thou:  the  wicked  is  driven  away  in  his  wickedness, 
with  a  "  Never  more  see  my  face."  Again,  What  amazing 
visions  wilt  thou  have!  What  ghastly,  frightful  objects  to 
converse  with,  amidst  those  horrors  of  eternal  darkness; 
when  the  devil  and  his  angels  shall  be  thy  everlasting 
associates  !  What  direful  images  shall  those  accursed, 
enraged  spirits,  and  thy  own  fruitful  parturient  imagina- 
tion, for  ever  entertain  thee  witli,  and  present  to  thy  view! 

2.  Is  it  a  small  thing  with  thee,  to  be  destitute  of  all 
tho.se  inherent  excellencies  which  the  perfected  image  ol  - 
God,  whereof  thou  wast  capable,  comprehends  1  View 
them  over  in  that  (too  defective)  account  some  of  the  for- 
mer pages  gave  thee  of  them.  Thou  art  none  of  those 
bright  stars,  thcee  sons  of  the  morning,  those  blessed,  glo- 
rified spirits  taou  mightest  have  been.  But  consider, 
What  art  thou  1  What  shalt  thou  for  ever  be  1  What 
image  or  likeness  shalt  thou  bear!  Alas,  poor  wretch, 
thou  art  now  a  fiend!  conformed  to  thy  hellish  partners; 
thou  bearest  their  accursed  likeness.  Death  is  now  finish- 
ed in  thee ;  and  as  thou  sowedst  to  the  flesh,  thou  reapest 
corruption.  Thou  art  become  a  loathsome  carcass;  the 
worms  that  never  die,  abound  in  thy  putrified,  filthy  soul. 
Thou  hast  a  hell  in  thee.  Thy  venomous  lusts  are  now 
grown  mature,  are  in  their  full-grown  state.  If  a -world 
of  iniquity,  a  fulness  of  deadly  poison,  tempered  by  hell- 
fire,  is  here  sometimes  to  be  found  in  a  little  member, 
what  will  there  then  be  in  all  thy  parts  and  powers! 

3.  Consider,  how  blessed  a  satisfaction  dost  thou  lose  % 
how  pleasant  and  delightful  a  rest,  arising  both  from  the 
sight  of  so  much  gloiy,  and  so  peaceful  a  temper  and 
constitution  of  spirit !  Here  thou  mightst  have  enjoyed 
an  eternal  undisturbed  rest.  But  for  rest  an  J  satisfaction, 
thou  hast  vexation  and  endless  torment,  both  by  what  thoti 
beholdest,  and  what  thou  feelest  wiihin  thee.  Thy  dread- 
ful visions  shall  not  let  thee  rest ;  but  the  chiefcst  matter 
of  thy  disquiet  and  torment  is  in  the  verj'  temper  and  con- 
stitution of  thv  soul.  Thy  horrid  lusts  are  fuller  of  poison- 
ous energy,  and  are  destitute  of  their  wonted  objex"ts, 
whence  they  turn  all  their  power  and  lim*  upon  thy  mise- 
rable self.  Thy  enraged  passions  would  fly  in  the  face  of 
God,  but  they  spend  themselves  in  tormenting  the  soul 
that  bred  them.  Thy  curses  and  blasphemies,  the  en- 
venomed dans  pointed  at  heaven,  are  reverberated  and 
driven  back  into  thv  own  heart.     And  therefore, 

4.  Consider,  what  awaking  hast  rhou  !  Thou  awakest 
not  into  the  mild  and  cheeri'ul  light  of  that  blessed  day, 
wherein  the  saints  of  the  Most  High  hold  their  solemn, 
joyful  triumph.  But  thou  awakest  into  that  great  and 
tei-rible  dav  of  the  Lord,  (dost  thou  desire  it,  for  what  end 
is  it  to  thee  !)  a  day  of  darkness,  and  not  light ;  a  gloi'iny 

o  PcMia  Damni— Sensm. 


250 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


Chap.  XVIII. 


and  stormy  day.  The  day  of  thy  birth  is  not  a  more  hate- 
ful than  this  is  a  dreadful  day.  Thou  awakest  and  art 
beset  with  terrors,  presently  apprehended  and  dragged  be- 
fore thy  glorious,  severe  Judge,  and  thence  into  eternal 
torments.  O  happy  thou,  mightst  thou  never  awake, 
might  the  grave  conceal,  and  its  more  silent  darkness 
cover  thee  for  ever.  But  since  thou  must  awake  then, 
how  much  more  happy  wert  thou,  if  thou  wouldst  suffer 
thyself  to  be  awakened  now  !  What,  to  lose  and  endure 
so  much,  because  thou  wilt  not  now  a  little  bestir  thyself, 
and  look  about  thee  1  Sure  thy  conscience  tells  thee,  thou 
art  urged  but  to  what  is  possible,  and  lawful,  and  hope- 
ful, and  necessary.  Methinks,  if  thou  be  a  man,  and  not 
a  stone,  if  thou  hast  a  reasonable  soul  about  thee,  thou 
shouldst  presently  fall  to  work,  and  rather  spend  thy  days 
in  serious  thoughts,  and  prayers,  and  tears,  than  run  the 
hazard  of  losing  so  transcendent  a  glory,  and  of  suffering 
misery,  which  as  now  thou  art  little  able  to  conceive, 
thou  wilt  then  be  less  able  to  endure. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Rule  4.  Directing  to  the  endeavour  of  a  gradual  improvement  in  such  a  dis- 
posedness  of  spirit  (as  shall  be  found  in  any  measure  already  attained)  to- 
wards this  blessedness.  That  'tis  blessedness  begim  which  disposes  to  the 
consummate  state  of  it.  That  we  are  therefore  to  endeavour  the  daily  increase 
of  our  present  knowledge  of  God,  conlbrmity  to  him,  and  the  satisfiedness  of 
our  spirits  therein. 

4.  Rule.  That  when  we  find  ourselves  m  any  disposition 
towards  this  blessedness,  we  endeavour  a  gradual  improve- 
ment therein,  to  get  the  habitual  temper  of  our  spirits 
made  daily  more  suitable  to  it.  We  must  still  remember 
we  have  not  yet  attained,  and  must  therefore  continue 
pressing  forward  =^  to  this  mark,  for  the  prize  of  the  high 
calling  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus.  That  prize  (not  price,  as 
we  commonly  mis-read  it  in  our  Bibles)  of  which  the 
apostle  here  speaks,  is  (as  may  be  seen  by  looking  back  to 
Yerse  8,  9,  &c.)  the  same  with  the  blessedness  in  the  text. 
Such  a  knowledge  of  Christ,  as  should  infer  at  last  his 
participation  with  him  in  his  state  of  glory;  or  of  the  re- 
surrection of  the  dead.  This  is  the  ultimate  term,  the 
scope  or  end  of  that  high  calling  of  God  in  Christ;  so  'tis 
also  stated  elsewhere.  Who  hath  b  called  us  unto  his  eter- 
nal glory  by  Christ  Jesus.  Now  we  should  therefore  fre- 
quently recount  how  far  short  we  are  of  this  glory,  and  stir 
up  our  souls  to  more  vigorous  endeavours  in  order  to  it. 
Our  suitableness  to  this  blessedness  stands  in  our  having 
the  elements  and  first  principles  of  it  in  us ;  'tis  glory  only 
that  fits  for  glory ;  some  previous  sights  and  impressions 
of  it,  and  a  pleasant  complacential  relish  thereof,  that 
frame  and  attemper  us  by  degrees  to  the  full  and  consum- 
mate state  of  it.  This  is  that  therefore  we  must  endeavour, 
A  growing  knowledge  of  God,  conformity  to  him,  and 
satisfiedness  of  spirit  therein.  What  we  expect  should  be 
one  day  perfect,  we  must  labour  may  be,  in  the  meantime, 
always  growing. 

1.  Our  knowledge  of  God.  The  knowledge  of  him  I 
here  principally  intend,  is  not  notional  and  speculative, 
but  (which  is  more  ingredient  to  our  blessedness,  both  in- 
choate and  perfect)  that  of  converse,  that  familiar  know- 
ledge which  we  usually  express  by  the  name  of  acquaint- 
ance. See  that  this  knowledge  of  him  be  increased  daily. 
Let  us  now  use  ourselves  much  with  God.  Our  know- 
ledge of  him  must  aim  at  conformity  to  him;  and  how 
powerful  a  thing  is  converse  in  order  hereto  !  How  insen- 
sibly is  it  wont  to  transform  men,  and  mould  anew  their 
spirits,  language,  garb,  deportment !  To  be  removed  from 
the  solitude  or  rudeness  of  the  country  to  a  city  or  univer- 
sity, what  an  alteration  does  it  make  1  How  is  such  a 
person  divested  by  degrees  of  his  rusticity,  of  his  more 
uncomely  and  agrest  manners !  Objects  we  converse 
with,  beget  their  image  upon  us;<^  They  walked  after 
vanity,  and  became  vain,  said  Jeremiah;  and  Solomon, d 
lie  that  walketh  with  the  wise,  shall  be  wise.  Walking 
is  a  usual  expression  of  converse.  So  to  converse  with 
the  holy  is  the  way  to  be  holy,  with  heaven,  the  way  to 

a  Pha.  iii.  14.    Bpa0€iov.  b  1  Pet.  v.  10. 

c  Jer.  ii.  5.  d  Prov.  xiii  20.  e  Prov.  iv.  13.  f  Hos.  vi.  3. 


be  heavenly,  with  God,  the  way  to  be  God-like.  Let  us 
therefore  make  this  our  present  business,  much  to  ac- 
quaint ourselves  with  God.  We  count  upon  seeing  him 
face  to  face,  of  being  always  in  his  presence  beholding  his 
glory;  that  speaketh  very  intimate  acquaintance  indeed. 
How  shall  we  reach  that  pitch  1  What,  to  live  now  as 
strangers  to  him  1  Is  that  the  way  1 «  The  path  of  the 
righteous  is  as  the  shining  light,  that  shineth  more  and 
more  unto  the  perfect  day.  The  text  shows  us  the  right- 
eous man's  end.  To  behold  the  glory  of  God's  face,  &c. 
'tis  easy  to  apprehend  then,  his  way  must  needs  have  in  it 
a  growing  brightness,  as  he  comes  still  nearer  this  end. 
Every  nearer  approach  to  a  lucid  thing  infers  (to  us)  an 
increase  of  light  from  it.  We  should  therefore  be  follow- 
ing on  to  know  the  Lord,  and  we  shall  see  his  going  forth 
will  be  before  us  as  the  morning,  f  He  will  be  still  visit- 
ing us  with  renewed,  increasing  light,  (for  such  is  rnorning- 
light,  fresh  and  growing-light,)  and  ere  long  it  will  be  per- 
fect day.  Labour  we  to  improve  our  knowledge  of  God 
to  such  a  degree  of  acquaintance  as  our  present  state  can 
admit  of:  to  be  as  inward  with  him  as  we  can,  to  fami- 
liarize ourselves  to  him.  His  gospel  aims  at  this,  to  make 
those  that  were  afar  off  nigh.  Far-distant  objects  we  can 
have  no  distinct  view  of.  He  can  give  us  little  account  of 
a  person  that  hath  only  seen  him  afar  off;  so  God  beholds 
the  proud  afar  off,  that  is,  he  will  have  no  acquaintance 
with  them:  whereas  with  the  humble  he  will  be  familiar; 
'  he  will  dwell  (as  in  a  family)  with  them.  So  the  ungodly 
behold  God  till  he  bring  them  in,  and  make  them  nigh ; 
then  they  are  no  longer  strangers,  but  of  his  family  and 
hou.sehold,  now  thoroughly  acquainted.  Several  notes 
there  are  of  a  thorough  acquaintance  which  we  should 
endeavour  may  concur  in  our  acquaintance  with  God,  in 
that  analogy  which  the  case  will  bear: — To  know  his 
natvre ;  or  (as  we  would  speak  of  a  man)  what  will  please 
and  displease  him,  so  as  to  be  able  in  the  whole  course  of 
our  daily  conversation  to  approve  ourselves  to  him  :  to 
have  the  skill  so  to  manage  our  conversation,  as  to  con- 
tinue a  correspondence,  not  interrupted  by  any  of  our  offen- 
sive unpleasing  demeanours :  to  walk  worthy  of  God  unto 
all  well-pleasing.  It  concerns  us  most  to  study  and  en- 
deavour this  practical  knowledge  of  the  nature  of  God ; 
what  trust,  and  love,  and  fear,  and  purity,  &c.  his  faithful- 
ness and  greatness,  his  goodness  and  holiness,  &c.  do 
challenge  from  us:  what  may  in  our  daily  walking  be 
agreeable,  what  repugnant,  to  the  several  attributes  of  his 
being.  To  know  his  secrets  ;  to  be  as  it  were  of  the  cabi- 
net-council, h  (The  word  used  by  the  Psalmist  hath  a  pecu- 
liar significancy  to  that  purpose;  to  signify,  not  only 
counsel,  but  a  council,  or  the  consessus  of  persons  that 
consult  together.)  This  is  his  gracious  vouchsafemcnt,  to 
humble  reverential  souls.  The  secret  of  the  Lord  is  with 
them  that  fear  him  ;  such  acquaintance  with  him  is  to  be 
sought,  to  know  the  (communicable)  secrets  both  of  his 
mind  and  heart.  Of  his  mind ;  his  truths,  gospel-myste- 
ries, that  were  kept  secret  from  ages  and  generations. 
We  have  the  mind  of  Christ.  This  is  great  inwardness. 
Of  his  heart ;  his  love,  his  good-will,  his  kind  bosom 
thoughts  towards  our  souls.  To  know  his  methods,  and  the 
course  of  his  dispensations  towards  the  world,  his  church, 
and  especially  our  own  spirits.  This  is  great  knowledge  of 
God,  to  have  the  skilLto  trace  his  footsteps,  and  observe 
by  comparing  times  with  times,  that  such  a  course  he  more 
usually  holds ;  and  accordingly,  with  great  probability, 
collect  from  what  we  have  seen  and  observed  what  we  may 
expect.  What  order  and  succession  there  is  of  storms  of 
wrath,  to  clouds  of  sin  ;  and  again  of  peaceful,  lucid  inter- 
vals, when  such  storms  have  inferred  penitential  tears. 
In  what  exigencies,  and  distresses,  humble  mourners  may 
expect  God's  visits  and  consolations.  To  recount  in  how 
great  extremities  former  experience  hath  taught  us  not  to 
despair;  and  from  such  experience  still  to  argue  ourselves 
into  fresh  reviving  hopes,  when  the  state  of  things  (whether 
public  or  private,  outward  or  .spiritual)  seems  forlorn.  To 
know  the  proper  seasons  of  address  to  him  ;  and  how  to 
behave  ourselves  most  acceptably  in  his  presence,  in  w'hat 
dispositions  and  postures  of  spirit  we  are  fittest  for  his 
converse,  so  as  to  be  able  to  come  to  him  in  a  good  hour,  i 


g  Isa.  Ivii.  15. 
1  Psal.  xxxii.  6. 


h  Psal.  XYV.  14. 


Chap.  XVIII. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


251 


in  a  time  when  he  maybe  found.  To  know  hisroice;  this 
discovere  acquaintance,  k  The  ear  trieih  word.s,  as  the 
mouth  tasteth  meats.  God's  righteous  ones,  that  are  filled 
with  the  fruits  of  righteousness,  do  proportionably  abound 
in  1  kiioiolcdge,  and  in  all  sense.  They  have  quick,  naked, 
unviiiated  senses,  to  discern  between  good  and  evil ;  yea, 
and  can  have  the  suffrage  of  several  senses  concerning  ihe 
same  object ;  they  have  a  kind  of  taste  in  their  ear.  They 
taste  the  good  word  of  God,  even  in  his  previous  workings 
on  them.  Being  new-born,  they  are  intimated  to  have  tasted 
in  the  word  how  gracious  the  Lord  is.  As  they  grow  up 
thereby,  they  have  still  a  more  judicious  sense,""  and  can 
more  certainly  distinguish,  when  God  speaks  to  them,  and 
when  a  stranger  goes  about  to  counterfeit  his  voice. "  They 
can  tell  at  first  hearing,  what  is  grateful  and  nutritive, 
what  offensive  and  hurtful,  to  the  di\ine  life  ;  what  is  har- 
monious and  agreeable,  what  dissonant,  to  the  gospel 
already  received,  so  that  an  angel  from  heaven  must  expect 
no  welcome,  if  he  bring  another.  To  know  his  inward  mo- 
tions and  impulses;  when  his  hand  toucheth  our  hearts, 
to  be  able  to  say.  This  is  the  finger  of  God,  there  is  some- 
thing divine  in  this  touch.  "My  beloved  put  in  his  hand 
by  the  hole  of  the  door,  and  my  bowels  were  moved.  This 
.speaks  acquaintance,  when  the  soul  can  say,  I  know  his 
very  touch;  the  least  impression  from  him,  I  can  distin- 
guish it  from  thousands  of  objects  that  daily  beat  upon  my 
heart.  To  understand  his  looks;  to  know  the  meaning 
of  his  aspects,  and  glances  of  the  various  casts,  as  it  were, 
of  his  eye.  p  Such  things  intimate  friends  can,  in  a  sort, 
talk  by,  Avith  one  another;  I  will  guide  thee  by  mine  eye  ; 
that  implies  an  intelligent  teachable  subject.  We  have 
now  no  full-eyed  appearances  of  God;  he  shows  himself, 
looks  in  upon  us  through  the  lattice,  through  a  veil  or  a 
shadow,  or  a  glass.  That  measure  of  acquaintance  with 
him  to  be  able  to  discern  and  own  him  in  his  appearances,  is 
a  great  participation  of  heaven,  utter  unacquaintancewiih 
God  is  expressed  by  the  denial  of  these  two.  Ye  have  neither 
heard  his  voice,  nor  seen  his  shape,  John  v.  37. 

Finally,  which  brings  us  home  to  the  text,  to  keep  our 
eye  intentively  fixed  on  him,  not  to  understand  his  looks 
only  as  before,  but  to  return  our  own.  Intimate  acquaint- 
ance (when  such  friends  meet)  is  much  expressed  and  im- 
proved by  the  eye,  by  a  reciprocationof  glances,  or  (which 
speaks  more  inwardness)  more  fixed  views;  when  their 
eyes  do  even  feed  and  feast  upon  each  other.  Thus  we 
should  endeavour  to  be  as  in  a  continual  interview  with 
God.  How  frequent  mention  have  we  of  the  fixed  posture 
of  his  eye  towards  saints.  To  this  man  will  I  ok;  I  have 
Ibund  out,  q.  d.  that  which  shall  be  ever  the  delight  of 
mine  eye,  do  not  divert  me.  Towards  him  I  will  look. 
What  he  speaks  of  the  material  temple  is  ultimately  to  be 
referred  to  that  which  is  typified,  "J  his  church,  his  saints, 
united  with  his  Christ,  Mine  eyes  and  my  heart  shall  be 
there  perpetually;  and  elsewhere.  He  withdraweth  not 
his  eyes  from  the  righteous  ;  he  cannot  (admirable  grace) 
allow  himself  to  look  off,  to  turn  aside  his  eye :  and  he 
seems  impatient  of  the  aversion  of  theirs,  ^  Let  me  see  thy 
countenance,  (saiih  he,)  for  it  is  comely. 

Is  it  not  much  more  reasonable  it  should  be  thus  with 
us  towards  him  1  that  we  should  be  more  delighted  to  be- 
hold real  comeliness  than  he  with  what  is  so,  only  by  his 
gracious  vouchsafement  and  estimation  1  How  careful 
should  we  be,  that  our  eye  may  at  every  turn  meet  his; 
that  he  never  look  toward  us,  and  find  it  in  the  ends  of  the 
earth,  carelessly  wandering  from  him  !  How  well  doth  it 
become  us,  «to  set  the  Lord  always  before  us;  to  have 
our  eye  ever  towards  the  Lord  !  This  you  see  is  the  initial, 
leading  thing  in  this  blessedness  of  heaven.  So  it  must 
have  also  a  prime  ingrediency  into  our  heav^en  on  earth. 
It  is  a  part  of  celestial  blessedness  ;  but  it  is  not  peculiar  to 
it.  The  present  blessedness  the  righteous  enjoy  here  is  a 
participation  of  heaven.  It  hath  something  in  it  of  every 
thing  that  is  ingredient  into  that  perfect  blessedness.  Our 
present  knowledge  of  God  is  often  expressed  by  vision,  or 
sight,  as  we  have  had  occasion  to  observe  in  many  pas- 
sages of  Scripture.  He  hath  given  us  such  a  visive  power, 

k  Job  .\ii.  II, 

1  Phil  i.  9.  atadnrnpta  ycyv^vniTutva.  Heb.  v.  all.  Heb.  \-i. 
ra  1  Pet.  i.  2. 3.  n  John  \.  o  Cant.  v.  4. 

pSo  we  apprehend  God  proporlioiiablyniore  clearly,  as  the  idea  we  have  of 
nperaon  is  moro  distinct  that  we  have  of  him  by  thesi^lit  of  hi:f  picture  or  face 


and  made  it  connatural  to  that  heavenly  creature,  begotten 
of  lum,  in  all  the  true  subjects  of  his  blessedness.  '  We 
know  that  we  are  of  God,  and  presently  it  follows,  He  hath 
giv^en  us  an  understanding  to  know  him  that  is  true.  This 
new  man  is  not  born  blind.  The  bles.sed  God  himself  is 
become  liable  to  the  view  of  his  regenerate,  intellectual 
eye,  clarified,  and  filled  with  vigour  and  spirit  fron.  him- 
self. He  therefore  that  hath  made,  that  hath  new-formed 
this  eye,  shall  not  he  be  seen  by  it  1  shall  not  we  turn  it 
upon  him  1  Why  do  not  we  more  frequently  bless  our  eye 
with  that  sight "?  This  object  (though  of  so  high  excellen- 
cy and  glory)  will  not  hurt,  but  perfect  and  strengthen  it. 
They  are  refreshing,  vital  beams  thatis.sue  from  it.  Sure 
M'e  have  no  excuse  that  we  eye  God  so  little,  t.  e.  that  we 
mind  him  no  more.  Why  have  we  so  few  thoughts  of 
him  in  a  day?  What,  to  let  .so  much  time  pa.ss,  and  not 
spare  him  a  look,  a  thought  1  Do  we  intend  to  employ 
ourselves  an  eternity  in  tlie  visions  of  God,  and  is  our 
present  aversion  from  him,  and  intention  upon  vanity,  our 
best  preparation  thereto  1  This  loudly  calls  for  redress. 
Shall  God  be  wailing  all  the  day,  as  on  purpose  to  catch 
our  eye,  to  intercept  a  look,  and  we  studiouslj''  decline 
him,  and  still  look  another  way,  as  of  choice  1  And  what 
is  it  but  choice  1  Can  we  pretend  a  necessity  to  forget  him 
all  the  day  1  How  cheap  is  the  expense  of  a  look !  How 
little  would  it  cost  us  J  And  yet  how  much  of  duty  might 
it  express  1  how  much  of  comfort  and  joy  might  it  bring 
into  us ! 

How  great  is  our  offence  and  loss,  that  we  live  not  in 
such  more  constant  views  of  God !  Herein  we  sin  and 
suffer  both  at  once,  things  both  very  unsuitable  to  heaven. 
Mindfulness  of  God  is  the  living  spring  of  all  holy  and 
pleasant  affections  and  deportments  towards  him;  sets  all 
the  wheels  a  going ;  makes  the  souls  a^  the  chariots  of 
Aminadab.  These  wheels  have  their  e3'es  also,  are  guided 
by  mind,  by  an  intellectual  principle.  Knowing,  intelli- 
gent beings  (as  we  also  are  by  participation  and  accoiding 
to  our  measure)  so  act  mutually  towards  one  another.  We 
cannot  move  towards  God  but  with  an  open  eye,  seeing 
him  and  our  way  towards  him.  If  we  close  our  eyes  we 
stand  still,  or  blindly  run  another  course,  we  know  not 
whither.  All  sin  is  darkness,  whether  it  be  neglect  of 
good,  or  doing  of  evil :  its  way  is  a  way  of  darkness;  as  a 
course  of  holy  motion  is  walking  in  the  light.  Our  shut- 
ting our  eyes  towards  God  creates  that  darkness ;  surrounds 
us  with  a.  darkness  comprehensive  of  all  sin.  Now  is  every 
thing  of  enjoined  duty  waived,  and  any  evil  done,  that  sin- 
ful nature  prompts  us  to.  Well  might  it  be  said,  "  He  that 
sinneth  hath  not  seen  God.  When  we  hare  made  our- 
selves this  darkness,  we  fall  of  course  under  Satan's  em- 
pire, and  are  presently  within  his  dominions.  He  is  the 
prince  of  darkness,  and  can  rule  us  now  at  his  will. 
Perishing  lost  souls  are  such  as  in  whom  the  god  of  this 
world  hath  blinded  their  minds. — To  open  their  eyes,  and 
turn  them  from  darkness  to  light,  is,  to  turn  them  also 
from  the  power  of  Satan  unto  God.  What  a  hell  of  wick- 
edness are  we  brought  into,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye! 
We  are  without  God  in  the  world,  as  if  a  man  wink,  though 
at  noo:.-day  he  hath  as  it  were  put  out  the  sun,  'tis  with 
him  as  if  there  were  no  such  thing.  When  we  have 
banished  God  out  of  our  sight  and  Ibrgotten  him,  'tis  wiih 
us  as  if  there  were  no  God.  If  such  a  state  grow  habitual 
to  us,  (as  \ve  know  every  sinful  aversi^)n  of  our  eye  from 
God  tends  thereto.)  what  wickedness  is  there  that  will  not 
lurk  in  this  darkness  ?  How  often  in  Scripture  is  forget- 
ting God  used  as  a  character,  yea,  as  a  paraphrase,  a  full, 
thousfh  summary  expression  of  sin  in  general !  as  if  the 
wickedness,  the  malignity,  the  very  hell  itself  of  sin,  were 
whollv  included  (and  not  connoted  only)  here.  ^  Now 
consider  this,  (after  so  dreadful  an  enumeration,  so  black 
a  catalogue,)  all  that  forget  God.  And  (as  deep  calleth  to 
deep,  one  hell  to  another.)  >"  The  wicked  shall  he  turned 
into  hell,  and  all  the  people  that  forget  God.  That  heap, 
that  mass  of  wickedness,  of  pride,  of  persecution,  cursins:, 
blasphemv,  deceit,  and  mischief,  all  meet  in  one  that  hath. 
not  God  in  all  his  thoughts. 

fh'onpha  glass,  beyond  that  which  we  have  by  hearing  a  reported  descriptioB 
of  him.  thoiiijh  by  himself  unseen.    This  is  acquaintance  with  God. 

q  1  Kinffs  ix  3.    Job  x.xxvi.  7.    Psal  .wxiii- 18.  and  ixxiv.  IS. 

r  Cant  ii  u.  s  Psal.  rvi  ?.  xw.  15.  1 1  John  v.  19,  SO. 

u  1  John  iii.  S.  x  Psal.  1.  T  P««'  ix. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


Chap.  XVIII 


But  who  is  so  hardy  to  look  the  holy  God  in  the  face, 
and  sin  against  him  !  What  an  astonishment  is  it,  when 
he  watches  over  present  sin,  or  brings  forth  former  sins 
out  of  secret  darkness,  and  sets  them  in  the  light  of  his 
countenance !  Who  that  understands  any  thing  of  the  na- 
ture and  majesty  of  God,  dare  call  him  for  a  witness  of 
his  sinning"?  The  worst  of  men  would  find  themselves 
under  some  restraint,  could  they  but  obtain  of  themselves, 
to  sit  down  sometimes,  and  soleimaly  think  of  God.  Much 
more  would  it  prove  an  advantage  to  them,  (whom  I  most 
intend,)  such  as  sin  within  the  nearer  call  and  reach  of 
mercy  ;  that  sin  not  to  the  utmost  latitude  ;  even  such  as 
lead  the  strictest  lives,  and  are  seldomer  found  to  transgress. 
Are  not  their  sins  wont  to  begin  with  forgetting  Godl 
Did  they  eye  God  more,  would  they  not  sin  less  frequent- 
ly, and  with  greater  regret  1  You  his  saints,  that  have 
made  a  covenant  with  him  by  sacrifice,  that  profess  the 
greatest  love  and  devotedness  to  him,  and  seem  willing 
yourselves  to  become  sacrifices,  and  lay  down  your  lives 
for  his  sake  ;  what,  is  it  a  harder  thing  to  give  him  a  look, 
a  thought !  or  is  it  not  too  common  a  thing,  without  ne- 
cessity, (and  then  not  without  injury,)  to  withhold  these 
from  him  "?  Let  us  bethink  oui'selves,  are  not  the  princi- 
pal distempers  of  our  spirits,  and  disorders  yet  observable 
in  our  lives,  to  be  referred  hither  1  As  to  enjoined  ser- 
vices ;  what  should  we  venture  on  omissions,  if  we  had 
God  in  our  eye  1  or  serve  him  with  so  declining,  backward 
hearts  1  Should  we  dare  to  let  pass  a  day,  m  the  even 
whereof  we  might  write  down,  Nothing  done  for  God  this 
day  1  Or  should  we  serve  him  as  a  hard  master,  with 
sluggish,  despondent  spirits  1  The  apostle  forbids  ser- 
vants to  serve  with  eye-service,  as  men-pleasers  ;  meaning 
they  should  eye  men  less,  and  God  more.  Sure,  as  to 
him,  our  service  is  not  enough  eye-service.  We  probably 
eye  men  more  than  we  should ;  but  we  do  not  eye  him 
enough.  Hence  such  hanging  of  hands,  such  feebleness 
of  knees,  such  laziness  and  indifferenc}',  so  little  of  an  ac- 
tive zeal  and  laborious  diligence,  so  little  fervency  of  spirit 
in  serving  the  Lord.  Hence  also  such  an  aversion  to 
hazardous  services,  such  fear  of  attempting  any  thing 
(though  never  so  apparent  important  duty)  that  may  prove 
costly,  or  hath  danger  in  it.  We  look  not  to  him  that  is 
invisible.  And  as  to  forbidden  things  ;  should  we  be  so 
proud,  so  passionate,  so  earthly,  so  sensual,  if  we  had  God 
more  in  view  1  should  we  so  much  seek  ourselves,  and 
indulge  our  own  wills  and  humours,  drive  a  design  with 
such  solicitude  and  intention  of  mind  for  our  private  in- 
terests "?  Should  we  walk  at  such  a  latitude,  and  more  con- 
sult our  own  inclination  than  our  rule,  allow  ourselves  in 
so  much  vanity  of  conversation,  did  we  mind  God  as  we 
ought  1  And  do  we  not  sensibly  punish  ourselves  in  this 
neglect  1  What  a  dismal  chaos  is  this  world  while  we  see 
not  God  in  it !  To  live  destitute  of  a  Divine  presence,  to 
discern  no  beam  of  the  heavenly  glory ;  to  go  up  and 
down  day  by  day,  and  perceive  nothing  of  God,  no  glim- 
mering, no  appearance;  this  is  disconsolate  as  well  as 
sinful  darkness.  What  can  we  make  of  creatures,  what 
of  the  daily  events  of  Providence,  if  we  see  not  in  them 
the  glory  of  a  Deity  ;  if  we  do  not  contemplate  and  adore 
the  Divine  wisdom,  power,  and  goodness,  diffused  every 
where  1  Our  practical  atheism,  and  inobservance  of  God, 
make  the  world  become  to  us  the  region  and  shadow  of 
death,  states  us  as  among  ghosts  and  spectres,  makes  all 
things  look  with  a  ghastly  face,  imprints  death  upon  every 
thing  we  see,  encircles  us  with  gloomy,  dreadful  shades, 
and  with  uncomfortable  apparitions.  To  behold  the 
tragical  spectacles  always  in  view,  the  violent  lusts,  the 
rapine  and  rage  of  some,  the  calamitous  sufferings,  the 
miseries  and  ruins  of  others;  to  hear  every  corner  re- 
sounding Avith  the  insultations  of  the  oppressor,  and  the 
mournful  groans  of  the  oppressed  ;  what  a  painful  con- 
tinuing death  were  it  to  be  in  the  world  without  God !  At 
the  best,  all  things  were  but  a  vanishing  scene,  an  image 
seen  in  the  dark.  The  creation  a  thing  the  fashion  whereof 
were  passing  away,  the  whole  contexture  and  system  of 
Providence  were  mere  confusion,  without  the  least  con- 
cinnity  or  order;  religion  an  acknowledged  trifle,  a  mere 
mockery  !  What,  to  wink  ourselves  into  so  much  darkness 

z  Sio  certe  vivendura  est  tanciuam  in  conspectu  vivamus,  &c.    Sen.  Epist 
lifxiu. 


and  desolation,  and  by  sealing  up  our  eyes  against  the  Di- 
vine light  and  glory,  to  '•'.nfirm  so  formidable  mis?rie? 
upon  our  own  soul*  '  How  dreadfully  shall  we  herein  re- 
venge our  own  folly,  in  nullifying  him  to  ourselves,  who 
is  the  all  in  all !  Sure  there  is  little  of  heaven  in  all  this ! 
But  if  now  we  open  our  eyes  upon  that  all-comprehending 
glory,  apply  them  to  a  steady  intuition  of  God,  how  heaven- 
ly a  life  shall  we  then  live  in  the  world  !  To  have  God 
always  in  view,  as  the  director  and  end  of  all  our  actions ; 
to  make  our  eye  crave  leave  of  God,  to  consult  him  ere  we 
adventure  upon  any  thing,  and  implore  his  guidance  and 
blessing;  upon  all  occasions  to  direct  our  prayers  to  him 
and  look  up ;  to  make  our  eye  wait  his  commanding  look, 
ready  to  receive  all  intimations  of  his  will ;  this  is  an  an- 
gelic life.  To  be  as  those  ministers  of  his  that  are  always 
ready  to  do  his  pleasure ;  to  make  our  eye  do  him  homage, 
and  express  our  dependance  and  trust ;  to  approve  our- 
selves in  every  thing  to  him,  and  act  as  always  in  his  pre- 
sence, observing  still  how  his  eye  observes  us,  and  expo- 
sing ourselves  willingly  to  its  inspection  and  search,  con- 
tented always  he  should  see  through  and  tlirough  us ; 
surely  there  is  much  of  heaven  in  this  life;  so  we  should 
endeavour  to  live  here.  I  cannot  omit  to  give  you  this 
instruction  in  the  words  of  a  heathen. ^  We  ought,  (saith 
he)  so  to  live,  as  always  within  view,  order  our  cogitatiims 
as  if  some  one  might  or  ca.n  look  into  the  very  inwards  of  our 
breast.  Por  to  what  purpose  is  it,  to  hide  any  thing  from 
man  7  from  God  nothing  can  he  hid  ;  he  is  continually  pre- 
sent to  our  spirits,  and  comes  amidst  our  inmost  thoughts,  &c. 

This  is  to  walk  in  the  light,  amidst  a  serene,  placid, 
mild  light,  that  infuses  no  unquiet  thoughts,  admits  no 
guilty  fears,  nothing  that  can  disturb  or  annoy  us.  To 
eye  God  in  all  our  comforts,  and  observe  the  smiling  as- 
pects of  his  face,  when  he  dispenses  them  to  us ;  to  eye  him 
in  all  our  afflictions,  and  consider  the  paternal  wisdom 
that  instructs  us  in  them ;  how  would  this  increase  our 
mercies,  and  mitigate  our  troubles  !  To  eye  him  in  all 
his  creatures,  and  observe  the  various  prints  of  the  Cre- 
ator's glory  stamped  upon  them;  with  how  lively  a  lustre 
would  it  clothe  the  world,  and  make  every  thing  look  with 
a  pleasant  face  !  What  a  heaven  were  it  to  look  upon  God, 
as  filling  all  in  all !  and  how  sweetly  would  it,  ere-while, 
raise  our  souls  into  some  such  sweet  seraphic  strains, 
""  Holy,  holy, — the  whole  earth  is  full  of  his  glory  !  To 
eye  him  in  his  providences,  and  consider  how  all  events  are 
with  infinite  wisdom  disposed  into  an  apt  subserviency  to 
his  holy  will  and  ends;  what  difficulties  would  hence  be 
solved  !  what  seeming  inconsistencies  reconciled !  and 
how  much  would  it  contribute  to  the  ease  and  quiet  of  our 
minds !  To  eye  him  in  his  Christ,  the  express  image  of 
his  person,  the  brightness  of  his  glory  ;  and  in  the  Chris- 
tian economy,  the  gospel  revelation  and  ordinances, 
through  which  he  manifests  himself;  to  behold  him  in  the 
posture  wherein  he  saves  souls,  clad  with  the  garments  of 
salvation,  girt  with  power,  and  apparelled  with  love, 
travelling  in  the  greatness  of  his  strength,  mighty  to  save  : 
to  view  him  addressing  himself  to  allure  and  win  to  him 
the  hearts  of  sinners,  when  he  discovers  himself  in  Christ, 
upon  that  reconciling  design,  makes  grace  that  brings  sal- 
vation appear,  teaching  to  deny  ungodliness,  &c.  to  behold 
him  entering  into  human  flesh,  pitching  his  tabernacle 
among  men,  hanging  out  his  ensigns  of  peace,  laying  his 
trains,  spreading  his  net,  the  cords  of  a  man,  the  bands  ol 
love:  to  see  him  in  his  Christ,  ascending  the  cross,  lifted 
up  to  draw  all  men  to  him  ;  and  consider  that  mighty  love 
of  justice  and  of  souls,  both  so  eminently  conspicuous  in 
that  stupendous  sacrifice;  here  to  fix  our  eyes  looking  to 
Jesus,  and  beholding  him  whom  we  have  pierced :  to  see 
his  power  and  glory,  as  they  were  wont  to  be  seen  in  his 
sanctuaries;  to  observe  him  in  the  solemnities  of  his  wor- 
ship, and  the  graceful  postures  wherein  he  holds  com- 
munion with  his  saints,  when  he  seats  himself  amidst  them 
on  the  throne  of  grace,  receives  their  addresses,  dispenses 
the  tokens  and  pledges  of  his  love :  into  what  transports 
might  these  visions  put  us  every  day! 

Let  us  then  stir  up  our  drowsy  souls,  open  our  heavy 
eyes,  and  turn  them  upon  God,  inure  and  habituate  them 
to  a  constant  view  of  his  (yet  veiled)  face,  that  we  may  not 

a  laa.  vi,  %  3. 


Chap.  XVIII. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


253 


see  him  only  by  casual  glances,  but  as  those  that  seek  his 
face,  and  make  it  ourbusine.ss  to  gain  a  thorough  knowledge 
of  him.  But  let  us  remember,  that  all  our  present  visions 
of  God  must  aim  at  a  furtlier  conformity  to  him;  they 
must  design  imitation,  not  the  satisfying  of  curiosity  :  our 
looking  must  not  therefore  be  an  inquisitive,  bu.sy  prying 
into  the  unrevealed  things  of  God.  Carefully  abstain  from 
.such  over-bold  presumptuous  looks.  But  remember,  we 
are  to  eye  God  as  our  pattern.  Wherein  he  is  to  be  so, 
he  hath  plainly  enough  revealed  and  proposed  himself  to 
us.  And  consider,  this  is  the  pattern,  both  to  which  we 
ought  and  to  which  we  shall  be  conformed,  if  we  make  it 
our  business  ;  so  will  sense  of  duty  and  hope  of  success 
concur  to  fix  our  eye  and  keep  it  steady.  Especially,  let 
us  endeavour  to  manage  and  guide  our  eye  aright,  in  be- 
holding him,  that  our  sight  of  him  may  most  effectually 
subserve  this  design  of  being  like  him ;  and  herein  nothing 
will  be  more  conducible,  than  that  our  looks  be  qualified 
with — reverence,  and — love. 

1.  Let  them  be  reverential  looks.  We  shall  never  be 
careful  to  imitate  a  despised  pattern,  or  that  we  think  meanly 
of  When  this  is  the  intimate  sense  of  our  soul.  Who  is  a 
God  like  unto  thee  in  holiness  "?  there  is  none  holy  as  the 
Lord  :  this  will  set  our  powers  on  work  ;  such  sights  will 
command  and  over-awe  our  souls  into  conformity  to  him. 
Subjects  have  sometimes  afliected  to  imitate  the  very  im- 
perfections and  deformities  of  their  adored  prince.  Let  us 
greaten  our  thoughts  of  God.  Look  to  him  with  a  sub- 
missive, adoring  eye.  Let  every  look  import  worship  and 
subjection.  Who  can  stand  before  apprehended  sovereign 
majesty  with  such  a  temper  of  soul  as  shall  signify  an  aff"ront 
to  it  ?  This  will  make  every  thing  as  suitable  to  God,  yield 
and  render  our  souls  susceptible  of  all  divine  and  holy  im- 
pre.ssions. 

2.  Let  them  be  friendly  and  (as  far  as  may  consist  with 
that  reverence)  amorous  looks.  'Tis  natural  to  affect  and 
endeavour  likeness  to  them  we  love.  Let  love  always  sit 
in  our  eye,  and  inspirit  it ;  this  will  represent  God  always 
amiable,  will  infinitely  commend  us  to  his  nature  and  at- 
tributes, and  even  ravish  us  into  his  likeness.  The  loving 
spouse  often  glories  to  wear  her  beloved  husband's  picture 
on  her  breast.  The  love  of  God  will  much  more  make  us 
affect  to  bear  his  image  in  our  hearts.  His  law  is  a  true 
representation  of  him,  and  lave  is  the  fulfilling  of  that  law, 
an  exemplification  of  it  in  ourselves.  Love  will  never 
enter  a  quarrel,  nor  admit  of  any  disagreement  with  God. 
His  more  terrible  appearances  will  be  commendable  in  the 
eye  of  love.  It  thinks  no  evil.  But  so  interprets  and  com- 
ments upon  his  severer  aspects,  whether  through  his  law 
or  providence,  as  to  judge  all  amiable,  and  frame  the  soul 
to  an  answerable  deportment. 

2.  In  this  way  then  let  us  endeavour  a  growing  con- 
formity unto  God.  It  hath  been  much  (and  not  unneces- 
sarily) inculcated  already,  that  the  blessedness  of  the  right- 
eous hereafter,  doth  not  consist  merely  in  beholding  an  ex- 
ternal, objective  glory,  but  in  being  also  glorified.  They 
are  happy  by  a  participated  glory;  by  being  made  like 
God,  as  well  as  seeing  his  glorious  likeness ;  whereby  the 
constitution  of  their  spirits  is  changed  and  reduced  to  that 
excellent,  harmonious,  agreeable  temper,  that  holy  com- 
posure and  peaceful  state,  from  which  blessedness  is  inse- 
parable. As  far  as  we  are  capable  of  blessedness  in  this 
world,  it  must  be  so  with  us  here.  Glory  without  us  will 
not  make  us  happy  in  heaven;  much  less  will  any  thing 
without  us  make  us  happy  on  earth.  'Tis  an  idle  dream, 
of  sickly,  crazy  minds,  that  their  blessedness  consists  in 
some  external  good,  that  is  separable  and  distant  from  them ; 
which  therefore  as  they  blindly  guess,  they  uncertainly  pur- 
sue ;  never  aiming  to  become  good,  without  which  thev 
can  never  know  what  it  is  to  be  blessed  What  felicity  are 
men  wont  to  imagine  to  themselves  in  this  or  that  change 
of  their  outward  condition  !  were  their  state  such  orsuch, 
then  they  were  happy,  and  should  desire  no  more.  As  the 
child's  fancy  suggests  to  it,  if  it  were  on  the  top  of  such  a 
hill,  it  could  touch  the  heavens,  but  when  with  much  toil 
It  hath  got  thither,  it  finds  itself  as  far  off  as  before.  We 
have  a  shorter  and  more  compendious  way  to  it,  would  we 

b  Epist.  92. 

c  Max.  Tjr.  dissert.  2.  who  adds,  For  a  good  man  cannot  receive  detiimeiit 
from  an  evil  man. 


allow  ourselves  to  understand  it.  A  right  temper  fif  mind 
involves  blessedness  in  itself;  'tis  this  only  change  we 
need  to  endeavour.  We  wear  out  our  days  in  vanity  and 
misery,  while  we  neglect  this  work,  and  busy  ourselves  to 
catch  a  fugitive  shadow,  that  hovers  about  us.  It  can 
never  be  well,  till  our  own  souls  be  a  heaven  to  us.  and 
blessedness  be  a  domestic,  a  home  dwelling  inhabitant 
there.  Till  we  get  a  settled  principle  of  holy  quietude  into 
our  own  breasts,  and  become  the  sons  of  peace,  with  whom 
the  peace  of  God  may  find  entrance  and  abode ;  till  we 
have  that  treasure  within  us,  that  may  render  us  insensible 
of  any  dependence  on  a  foreign  good,  or  fear  of  a  foreign 
evil.  Shall  that  be  the  boa.st  and  glory  of  a  philosojdier 
only,  I  carry  all  my  goods  with  me  wherever  I  go  1  and 
that,  A  virtuous,  good  man,  is  liable  to  no  hurt  1  f  Seneca 
thinks  "they  discover  a  low  spirit,  that  .say,  exieri.als  can 
add  any  thing  (though  but  a  very  liule)  to  the  felicity  of  an 
honest  "mind;  asif(saith  he)  men  could  not  be  content 
with  the  light  of  the  sun  without  the  help  of  a  candle  or  a 
spark."  And  speaking  of  the  constancy  of  the  virtuous  man, 
(saith  he,)  "  They  do  ill  that  say,  such  an  evil  is  tolerable 
to  him,  such  a  one  intolerable,  and  that  confine  the  great- 
ness of  his  mind  within  certain  bounds  and  limits.  Adver- 
sity (he  tells  us)  overcomes  us,  if  it  be  not  wholly  over- 
come. Epicurus,  (saith  he,)  the  very  patron  of  your  sloth, 
acknowledges  yet,  that  unhappy  events  can  seldom  disturb 
the  mind  of  a  virtuous  person,  (and  he  adds,)  how  had  he 
almost  uttered,  the  voice  of  a  man  !  1  pray,  (saith  he,)speak 
out  a  little  more  boldly,  and  say  he  is  above  them  altoge- 
ther."=  Such  apprehensions  the  more  virtuous  heathens 
have  had  of  the  efficacy  and  defensative  power  of  n;oral 
goodness,  however  defective  their  notion  might  be  of  the 
thing  itself  Hence  Socrates  the  pagan  martyr  is  reported  to 
have  cried  out,  (when  those  persons  were  persecuting  him  to 
death,)  Anytus  and  Meletus  can  kill  me,  but  they  cannot 
hurt  me.  And  Anaxarchus  the  philosopher,  having  sharply 
reproved  Nicocreon,  and  being  by  him  ordered  to  be  beaten 
to  death  with  iron  mallets,  bids.  Strike  on,  strike  on,  thou 
mayest  (saith  he)  J  break  in  pieces  this  vessel  of  Anaxar- 
chus, but  Anaxarchus  himself  thou  canst  not  touch. 

Shall  Chri-stianity  here  confess  itself  outvied  ?  shall  we, 
to  the  reproach  of  our  religion,  yield  the  day  to  pagan  mo- 
rality, and  renew  the  occasion  of  the  ancient  complaint, 
« that  the  faith  of  Christians  is  out-done  by  the  huithcn  infide- 
lity'} It  is,  I  remember,  the  challenge  of  Cicilius  in  Mi- 
nutius.  "  There  is  Socrates  (saith  he)  the  prince  of  wis- 
dom, whosoever  of  you  Christians  is  great  enough  to  at- 
tempt it,  let  him  imitate  him  if  he  can."  Methinks  we  should 
be  ambitious  to  tell  the  world  in  our  lives,  (for  Christians 
should  live  great  things,  not  speak  them,f)  that  a  greater 
than  Socrates  is  here  :  to  let  them  see  in  us  our  represent- 
ed pattern:  to  show  forth  higlier  virtues  than  those  of 
Socrates;  even  his,  who  hath  called  us  out  of  darkness 
into  his  glorious  and  marvellous  light.  Certain  it  is,  thai 
the  sacred  oracles  of  the  gospel  set  before  us  a  more  ex- 
cellent pattern,  and  speak  things  not  less  magnificent,  but 
much  more  modest  and  perspicuous;  with  less  pomp  of 
words  they  give  us  a  much  clearer  account  of  a  far  more 
excellent  temper  of  mind,  and  prescribe  the  direct  and 
certain  way  of  attaining  it.  (Do  but  view  over  the  many 
passages  of  Scripture  occa.sionally  glanced  ai.  Chap.  7.) 
But  we  grope  as  in  the  dark  for  blessedness;  we  stumble 
at  noon-day  as  in  the  night,  and  wander  as  if  we  had  no 
eyes ;  we  mistake  our  business,  and  lay  the  scene  of  a 
happy  state  at  a  great  distance  f'rom  us,  in  thines  which 
we  cannot  reach,  and  which  if  we  could  it  were  to  little 
purpose. 

Not  to  speak  of  greater  sensualists,  (whom  at  present  I 
have  less  in  my  eye,)  is  there  not  a  more  refined  sort  of 
persons,  that  neglecting  the  great  business  of  inspecting, 
and  labouring  to  better  and  improve  their  spirits,  are 
wholly  taken  up  about  the  affairs  of  another  sphere  ;  that 
are  more  solicitous  for  better  times,  for  a  better  world,  than 
better  spirits ;  that  seem  to  think  that  all  the  hajipiness  they 
are  capable  of  on  earth,  is  bound  up  in  this  or  that  exter- 
nal state  of  things  1  Not  that  the  care  of  all  public  con- 
cernments should  be  laid  aside;  least  of  all,  a  just  solici- 

d  Dio?en.    Laert.  Anaxarctius. 

e  Non  pnnstat  fides  quod  pra-stitit  infidelitas. 

r  A3  tliis  author's  exprc.-sioii  is. 


254 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OP  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


Chap.  XVIII. 


tude  for  the  church's  welfare :  but  that  should  not  be  pre- 
tended, when  our  own  interest  is  the  one  thing  with  us. 
And  when  we  are  really  solicitous  about  the  church's  in- 
terests, we  should  state  them  aright.  God  designs  the  af- 
flictions of  his  people  for  their  spiritual  good,  therefore 
that  is  a  much  greater  good,  than  their  exemption  from 
suffering  these  evils  ;  otherwise  his  means  should  cat  up 
his  end,  and  be  more  expensive  thaji  that  will  countervail ; 
which  were  an  imprudence  no  man  of  tolerable  discretion 
would  be  guilty  of  We  should  desire  the  outward  pros- 
perity of  Sion,  for  it  is  a  real  good;  but  inasmuch  as  it 
hath  in  it  the  goodness,  not  of  an  end,  but  only  (and  that 
but  sometimes  neither)  of  a  means  ;  not  a  constant,  but  a 
mutual  goodness;  not  a  principal, but  a  lesser  subordinate 
goodness ;  we  must  not  desire  it  absolutely,  nor  chiefly, 
but  with  submissive  limited  desires.  If  our  hearts  are 
grieved  to  hear  of  the  sufl^erings  of  the  church  of  God  in 
the  world,  but  not  of  their  sins  ;  if  we  more  sensibly  re- 
gret, at  any  time,  the  persecutions  and  oppressions  they 
undergo,  than  their  spiritual  distempers,  their  earthliness, 
pride,  cold  love  to  God,  fervent  animosities  towards  each 
other;  it  speaks  an  uninstructed  carnal  mind.  We  take 
no  right  measure  of  the  interests  of  religion,  or  the  church's 
welfare,  and  do  most  probabl}'  mistake  ourselves  as  much 
in  our  judging  of  our  own ;  and  measure  theirs  by  our  own 
mistaken  model. 

And  this  is  the  mischievous  cheat  many  put  upon  their 
own  souls,  and  would  obtrude  too  often  upon  others  too ; 
that  overlooking  the  great  design  of  the  gospel,  to  trans- 
form men's  spirits  and  change  them  into  the  Divine  like- 
ness, they  think  'tis  religion  enough  to  espouse  a  party, 
and  adopt  an  opinion;  and  then  vogue  themselves  friends 
to  religion  according  to  the  measure  of  their  zeal  for  their 
own  party  or  opinion ;  and  give  a  very  pregnant  proof  of 
that  zeal,  by  magnifying  or  inveighing  against  the  times, 
according  as  they  favour  or  frown  upon  their  empty,  un- 
spirited  religion.  It  being  indeed  such  (a  secret  conscious- 
ness whereof  they  herein  bewray)  as  hath  no  other  life 
in  it,  than  what  it  owes  to  external  favour  and  countenance. 
And  therefore  all  public  rebukes  are  justly  apprehended 
mortal  to  it ;  whereas  that  substantial  religion  that  ade- 
quately answers  the  design,  and  is  animated  by  the  spirit 
of  the  gospel,  possesses  the  souls  of  them  that  own  it,  with 
a  secure  confidence,  that  it  can  live  in  any  times,  and  hold 
their  souls  in  life  also.  Hence  they  go  on  their  way  with 
a  free  unsolicitous  cheerfulness,  enjoying  silently  in  their 
own  bosoms  that  repose  and  rest  which  naturally  results 
from  a  sound  and  well-composed  temper  of  spirit.  They 
know  their  happiness  depends  upon  nothing  without  them.s 
That  they  hold  it  by  a  better  tenure  than  that  of  the 
world's  courtesy.  They  can  be  quiet  in  the  midst  of 
storms,  and  abound  in  the  want  of  all  things.  They  can  in 
patience  possess  their  own  souls,  and  in  them  a  vital  spring 
of  true  pleasure,  when  they  are  driven  out  of  all  other 
possessions.  They  know  the  living  sense  of  these  words. 
That  the  good  man  is  satisfied  from  himself:  That  to  be 
spiritually-minded  is  life  and  peace:  That  nothing  can 
harm  them  that  are  followers  of  the  good :  That  the  way 
to  see  good  days,  is  to  keep  their  tongues  from  evil,  and 
their  lips  from  speaking  guile,  to  depart  from  evil  and  do 
good,  to  seek  peace  and  pursue  it.  They  cannot  live  in 
bad  times ;  they  carry  that  about  them  that  will  make  the 
worst  days  good  to  them.  Surely  they  can  never  be  happy 
in  the  best  times,  that  cannot  be  so  in  any.  Outward 
prosperity  is  quite  besides  the  purpose  to  a  distempered 
soul ;  when  nothing  else  troubles,  it  will  torment  itself 
Besides,  we  cannot  command  at  pleasure  the  benign  as- 
pects of  the  world,  the  smiles  of  the  times  ;  we  may  wait 
a  life's-time,  and  still  find  the  same  adverse  posture  of 
things  towards  us  from  without.  What  dotage  is  it  to 
place  our  blessedness  in  something  to  us  impossible,  that 
lies  wholly  out  of  our  power ;  and  in  order  v.'hereto  we 
have  nothing  to  do,  but  sit  down  and  wish ;  and  either 
faintly  hope,  or  ragingly  despair  1  We  cannot  change  times 
and  seasons,  nor  alter  the  course  of  the  world,  create  new 
heavens  and  new  earth.  Would  we  not  think  ourselves 
mocked,  if  God  should  command  us  these  things  in  order 

gl^itOTOV  s'aaii  Kai  xapaKrrip,ov6i:7roTC  £j  eavTov  TrpoaioKa  axpcXciav  r/ 
fi\il3riv,  aXX'  aiTO  tuivcI^m  <pt\o(TO(pnvTC'<"i  Kai  x<ipo-KTr\p,  irairav  upeXctav 
Kat  ffXajiriv  c^  caiTOV  TzooaSoKa.     Epict. 


to  our  being  happy  1  'Tis  not  our  business,  these  are  not 
the  affairs  of  our  own  province  (blessed  be  God  'tis  not  so 
large)  further  than  as  our  bettering  ourselves  may  conduce 
thereto,  and  this  is  that  which  we  may  do  and  ought,  'tis 
our  proper  work,  in  obedience  and  subordination  to  God 
as  his  instruments,  to  govern  and  cultivate  our  own 
spirits,  to  intend  the  affairs  of  that  his  kingdom  in  us, 
(where  we  are  his  authorized  viceroys,)  that  consists  in 
righteousness,  and  peace,  and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost.  We 
can  be  benign  to  ourselves,  if  the  world  be  not  so  to  us ; 
cherish  and  adorn  our  inward  man  ;  that  though  the  out- 
ward man  be  exposed  daily  to  perish,  (which  we  cannot 
help,  and  therefore  it  concerns  us  not  to  take  thought 
about  it,)  the  inward  may  be  renewed  day  by  day.  We 
can  take  care  that  our  souls  may  prosper,  that  through  our 
oscitant  neglect  they  be  not  left  to  languish  and  pine  away 
in  their  own  iniquities.  They  may  be  daily  fed  with  the 
heavenly  hidden  manna,  and  with  the  fruits  of  the  para- 
dise of  God  ;  they  may  enjoy  at  home  a  continual  feast, 
and  with  a  holy  freedom  luxuriate  in  divine  pleasures,  the 
joys  wherewith  the  strangers  intermeddle  not,  if  we  be  not 
unpropitious  and  unkind  to  ourselves. 

And  would  we  know  wherein  that  sound  and  happy 
complexion  of  spirit  lies,  that  hath  so  much  of  heaven  in 
it :  'Tis  a  present  gradual  participation  of  the  Divine  like- 
ness. It  consists  in  being  conformed  to  God ;  'tis,  as  the 
moralist  tells  us,h  If  one  would  give  a  short  compendious 
model  of  it,  such  a  temper  of  mind  as  becomes  God  ;  or  to 
give  an  account  of  it  in  his  own  words  who  prescribes  it, 
and  who  is  himself  the  highest  pattern  of  this  blessed 
frame,i  'Tis  to  be  transformed  intherenewingof  our  minds, 
so  as  to  be  able  to  prove  what  is  the  good,  and  perfect,  and 
acceptable  will  of  God  ;  that  is,  experimentally  to  find  it 
in  ourselves,  impressed  and  wrought  into  our  own  spirits, 
so  as  to  have  the  complacential  relish  and  savour  of  its 
goodness,  excellency,  and  pleasantness  diff'used  through 
our  souls.  Where  remember,  this  was  written  to  such  as 
were  supposed  saints ;  whence  it  must  be  understood,  of  a 
continued  progressive  transformation,  a  renewing  of  the 
inward  man  day  by  day  (as  is  the  apostle's  expression 
elsewhere.)  ^Tis  a  more  perfect  reception  of  the  impress 
of  God,  revealing  himself  in  the  gospel ;  the  growth  and 
tendency  of  the  new  creature,  begotten  unto  the  eternal 
blessedness,  towards  its  mature  and  most  perfect  state  and 
stature  in  the  fruition  thereof. 

And  'tis  this  I  am  now  pressing ;  inasmuch  as  some  ac- 
count hath  been  already  given  (according  as  we  can  now 
imperfectly  guess  at  it,  and  spell  it  out)  what  the  constitu- 
tion of  the  holy  soul  is  in  its  glorified  state,  when  it  per- 
fectly partakes  the  Divine  likeness  ;  that  when  we  find  in 
ourselves  any  principles  and  first  elements  of  that  blessed 
frame,  we  would  endeavour  the  gradual  improvement 
thereof,  and  be  making  towards  that  perfection.  This  there- 
fore being  our  present  work,  let  it  be  remembered  wherein 
this  participated  likeness  of  God  hath  been  said  to  consist, 
and  labour  now  the  nearest  approach  to  that  pitch  and 
state.  Your  measures  must  be  taken  from  what  is  most 
perfect,  come  now  as  near  it  as  you  can,  and  as  that  pa- 
gan's advise  is  ;  k"  If  yet  thou  art  not  Socrates,  however, 
live  as  one  that  would  fain  be  Socrates."  Though  yet  thou 
art  not  perfect,  live  as  one  that  aims  at  it,  and  M^ould  be  so. 
Only  it  must  be  considered,  that  the  conformity  to  God,  of 
our  present  state,  is  in  extent  larger  and  more  comprehen- 
sive than  that  of  our  future  ;  though  it  be  unspeakably  less 
perfect  in  degree.  For  there  is  no  moral  excellency  (that 
we  have  any  present  knowledge  oi'^  belonging  to  our  glori- 
fied state,  which  is  not  in  some  degree  necessarily  to  be 
found  in  saints  on  earth.  But  there  are  some  things  which 
the  exigency  of  our  present  state  makes  necessary  to  us 
here,  which  will  not  be  so  in  the  state  of  glory ;  repent- 
ance, faith,  as  it  respects  the  Mediator,  in  order  to  our  fu- 
ture happiness  ;  patience  of  injuries,  pity  to  the  distressed, 
&c.  These  things,  and  whatsoever  else,  whose  objects 
cease,  must  be  understood  to  cease  with  them.  In  short, 
here  is  requisite  all  that  moral  good  which  concerns  both 
our  end  and  way  ;  there,  what  concerns  our  end  only. 

Yet  is  the  whole  compass  of  that  gracious  frame  of  spirit, 

h  Doniniip  iit  breviter  tibi  fomiiilnm  scribam  ;  talis  animis  sapioritis  viri  ossc 
debet  qualis  Deum  deceat.    Sen.  Epiat. 
i  Kom.  xii.  2.  k  Epictet. 


Chap.  XVIII. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


2S5 


requisite  in  this  our  present  state,  all  comprehended  in 
conformity  to  God.  Partly,  ina-smuch  as  .some  of  these 
graces  which  will  cease  hereafter  in  their  exercise,  as  not 
having  objects  to  draw  them  forth  into  act,  have  their  pat- 
tern in  some  communicable  attributes  of  God,  which  will 
cease  also,  a-s  to  their  denomination  and  exercise;  their 
objects  then  ceasing  loo,  as  his  patience  towards  siimers, 
his  mercy  to  the  miserable.  Partly  inasmuch  as  other  of 
those  graces  now  required  in  us,  though  they  correspond 
to  nothing  in  God  that  is  capable  of  the  same  name,  as 
faith  in  a  Saviour,  repentance  of  sin,  (which  can  have  no 
place  in  God,)  they  yet  answer  to  something  in  his  nature, 
that  goes  under  other  names;  and  is  ihe  reason  wherefore 
he  requires  such  things  in  us.  He  hath  in  his  nature  that 
faithfulness  and  all-sutficient  fulness,  that  challenges  our 
faith;  and  that  hatred  of  sin,  wliich  challenges  our  repent- 
ance for  it,  having  been  guilty  of  it.  His  very  nature 
obliges  him  to  require  those  things  from  us,  the  state  of 
our  case  being  considered.     So  that  the  sum  even  of  our 

f resent  duty  lies  in  receiving  ihis  entire  impression  of  the 
>ivine  likeness  (in  some  part  invariablj'  and  eternally  ne- 
cessary to  us,  in  some  part  necessarj'  with  respect  to  our 
present  state.)  And  herein  is  our  present  blessedness  also 
involved.  If  therefore  we  have  any  design  to  better  our 
condition  in  point  of  blessedness,  it  must  be  our  business 
to  endeavour  after  a  fuller  participation  of  that  likeness,  in 
all  the  particulars  it  comprehends.  You  can  pitch  your 
thoughts  upon  no  part  of  it,  which  hath  not  an  evident 
direct  tendency  to  the  repose  and  rest  of  your  spirits.  I 
shall  commend  only  some  few  instances,  that  you  may  see 
how  little  reason  and  inducement  a  soul  conformed  to  the 
holy  will  of  God,  hath  to  seek  its  comforts  and  contents 
elsewhere.  Faith  corresponds  to  the  truth  of  God,  as  it 
respects  divine  revelations.  How  pleasant  is  it  to  give 
Up  our  understandings  to  the  conduct  of  so  safe  a  guide ; 
to  the  view  of  so  admirable  things  as  he  reveals !  It  cor- 
responds to  his  goodness,  as  it  respects  its  offers.  How 
delectable  is  it  to  be  filling  an  empty  soul  from  the  Divine 
fulness  1  What  pleasure  attends  the  exercise  of  this  faith 
towards  the  person  of  the  Mediator,  viewing  him  in  all  his 
glorious  excellencies,  receiving  him  in  all  his  gracious 
communications  by  this  eye  and  hand.  How  pleasant  is 
it  to  exercise  it  in  reference  to  another  world  !  living  by  it 
in  a  daily  prospect  of  eternity  ;  in  reference  to  this  world, 
to  live  without  care  in  a  cheerful  dependance  on  him  that 
hath  undertaken  to  care  for  us ! 

Repentance  is  that  by  which  we  become  like  the  holy 
God ;  to  whom  our  sin  hath  made  us  most  unlike  before. 
How  sweet  are  kindly  relentings,  penitential  tears,  and  the 
return  of  the  soul  to  its  God,  and  to  a  right  mind  !  And 
who  can  conceive  the  ravishing  pleasures  of  love  to  God ! 
wherein  we  not  only  imitate,  but  intimately  unite  with  him 
who  is  love  itself  How  pleasant  to  let  our  souls  dissolve 
here,  and  flow  mto  the  ocean,  the  element  of  love  !  Our 
fear  corresponds  to  his  excellent  greatness.  And  is  not 
(as  it  is  part  of  the  new  creature  in  us)  a  tormenting  ser- 
vile passion,  but  a  due  respectfulness  and  observance  of 
God-^  and  there  is  no  mean  pleasure  in  that  holy  awful 
seriousness  unto  which  it  composes  and  forms  our  spirits. 
Our  humility,  as  it  respects  him,  answers  his  high  excel- 
lency ;  as  it  respects  our  own  inferiors,  his  gracious  con- 
descension. How  pleasant  is  it  to  fall  before  him !  And 
how  connatural  and  agreeable  to  a  good  spirit,  to  stoop 
low,  upon  any  occasion  to  do  good  !  Sincerity  is  a  most 
God-like  excellency  ;  an  imitation  of  his  truth,  as  ground- 
ed in  his  all-sufliciency  ;  which  sets  him  above  the  neces- 
sity or  possibility  of  any  advantage  by  collusion  or  deceit ; 
and  corresponds  to  his  omnisciency  and  heart-searching 
eye.  It  heightens  a  man's  spirit  to  a  holy  and  generous 
boldness ;  makes  him  apprehend  it  beneath  him  to  do  an 
unworthy,  dishonest  action,  that  should  need  a  palliation, 
or  a  concealment. 1  And  gives  him  the  continual  pleasure 
of  self-approbation  to  God,  whom  he  chieflv  studies  and 
desires  to  plea.se.  Patience,  a  prime  glory  of  the  Divine 
Majesty,  continues  a  man's  possession  of  his  own  soul,  his 
liberty,  his  dominion  of  himself     He  is  (if  he  can  suffer 

1  A3  that  noble  Roman  whom  his  architect  (about  to  build  liim  a  house) 
promised  to  contrive  it  free  from  all  his  neighbours'  inspection  ;  he  replies,  Nay, 
if  thou  have  any  art  in  thee,  build  my  house  so  that  all  may  see  what  I  do. 
Veil.  Pal  p.  82. 


nothing)  a  slave  to  his  vilest  and  most  sordid  passions  at 
home,  his  own  base  fear,  and  brutish  anger,  and  etlcminate 
grief,  and  to  any  man's  lusts  and  humours  besides  that  he 
ajiprehends  can  do  him  hurt.  It  keeps  a  man's  soul  in  a 
peaceful  calm,  delivers  him  from  (that  most  unnatural) 
self-torment,  defeats  the  impotent  malice  of  his  most  im- 
placable enemy,  who  fain  would  vex  him,  but  cannot. 
Justice,  the  great  attribute  of  the  judge  of  all  the  earth,  as 
such ;  so  far  as  the  impression  of  it  takes  place  among 
men,  preserves  the  common  peace  of  the  world,  and  the 
private  peace  of  each  man  in  his  own  bosom,  so  that  the 
former  be  not  disturbed  by  doing  of  mutual  injuries,  nor 
the  latter  by  the  conscience  of  having  done  them.  The 
brotherly  love  of  fellow-Christians;  the  impression  of  that 
special  love,  which  God  bears  to  them  all,  admits  them 
into  one  another's  bosoms,  and  all  the  endearments  and 
pleasures  of  a  mutual  communion.  Love  to  enemies,  the 
express  image  of  our  heavenly  Father;  by  which  we  ap- 
pear his  children,  begotien  of  him;  overcomes  evil  by 
goodness,  blunts  the  double  edge  of  revenge;  at  least  the 
sharper  edge;  (which  is  always  towards  the  author  of  it ;) 
secures  ourselves  from  wounding  impressions  and  resent- 
ments; turns  keen  anger  into  gentle  piiy  ;  and  substitutes 
mild  pleasant  forgiveness,  in  the  room  of  the  much  un- 
easier  thoughts  and  study  of  retaliation.  Mercifulness  to- 
ward the  distressed,  as  our  Father  in  heaven  is  merciful, 
heaps  blessing  upon  our  souls,  and  evidences  our  title  to 
what  we  are  to  live  by,  the  Divine  mercy.  A  universal  be- 
nignity and  propension  to  do  good  to  all :  an  imitation  of 
the  immense,  diffusive  goodness  of  God,  is  but  kindness 
to  ourselves,  rewards  it.self  by  that  greater  pleasure  is  in 
giving  than  in  receiving;  and  associates  us  with  God  in 
the  blessedness  of  this  work,  as  well  as  in  the  disposition 
to  it;  who  exercises  loving-kindness  in  the  earth,  because 
he  delighteth  therein. 

Here  are  some  of  the  //ifiijf/ara  r^s  Qcias  ^oii??,  or  the  things 
vhercin  consists  that  our  conformity  to  the  Divine  nature 
and  irili,  which  is  proper  to  our  present  state.  And  now, 
who  can  estimate  the  blessedness  of  such  a  soul"?  Can  (in 
a  word)  the  state  of  that  soul  be  imhappy  that  is  full  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,  full  of  love,  joy,  peace,  long-suffering,  gentle- 
ness, goodness,  faith,  meekness,  temperance,  those  blessed 
fruitsof  that  blessed  Spirit?  Blessedness  is  connaturalized 
unto  this  soul;  every  thing  doth  its  part,  and  all  conspire 
to  make  it  happy.  This  soul  is  a  temple,  a  hahiiaiion  oi 
holiness.  Here  dwells  a  Deity  in  his  glory.  'Tis  a  para- 
di'^e,  a  garden  of  God.  Here  he  walks  and  converses 
daily,  delighted  with  its  fragrant  fruitfulness.  He  that  hath 
those  things  and  aboundeth,  is  not  barren  or  unfruitful  in 
the  knowledge  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus;  he  is  the 
sun,  and  the  knowledge  of  him  the  quickening  beams  that 
cherish  and  ripen  these  fruits.  But  the  soul  that  lacketh 
these  things  is  a  desert,  a  habitation  of  devils.  Here  is 
stupid,  disconsolate  infidelity,  inflexible  obstinacy  and  re- 
solvedness  for  hell,  hatred  and  contempt  of  the  Sovereign 
Majesty;  whom  3'et,  its  secret  misgiving  thoughts  tell  it, 
will  be  too  hard  for  it  at  last.  Here  is  swollen  pride  and 
giddy  vain-glory,  disguised  hypocrisy  and  pining  en\y, 
raging  wrath  and  ravenous  avarice,  with  what  you  can 
imagine  besides,  leading  to  misery  and  desolation. 

You  have  then  some  prospect  of  a  happy  temper  of 
spirit.  It  can  now  be  no  difficulty  to  you,  to  frame  an 
idea  of  it  in  your  thoughts,  to  get  a  notional  image  (or  this 
likeness  in  the  notion  of  it)  into  your  minds  ;  but  that  will 
avail  you  litile,  if  you  have  not  the  real  image  also ;  that 
is,  your  spirits  really  fashioned  and  formed  according 
thereto:  if  having  the  knowledge  of  these  things,  (as  the 
pagan  moralist's  expression,  before  mentioned,  is  of  virtu- 
ous rules  and  precepts,)™  they  become  not  habitual  to  \'ou, 
and  yiiur  spirits  be  not  transfigured  in  them.  But  now,  I 
treat  with  such  as  are  supposed  to  have  some  such  real  im- 
pressions, that  they  may  be  stirred  up  to  endeavour  a  fur- 
ther perfecting  o4'  them.  In  order  whereto,  I  shall  add  but 
this  two-fold  advice : 

1.  Be  very  careful  that  this  living  image  (such  you 
have  been  formerly  told  it  is)  may  grow  equally  in  every 

m  Pliilosophia  h«c  dividitur  in  scientiam.  et  hsbitum  animi.  unam  illam  qui 
didicit  et  facitnda  ac  viianda  piaccpit  nondum  sapiens  est.  nisi  in  ea  quae  di- 
dicit  animus  ejus  tr&nstiguiatus  est    Sen.  ex  Aerippa,  Epist  94. 


S56 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


Chap.  XVIII, 


part.  See  that  the  impression  of  this  likeness  be  entire, 
that  it  be  not  a  maimed  thing ;  if  it  be,  God  will  never  own 
it  as  his  production.  Integrity  is  the  glory  of  a  Christian  ; 
to  be  entire,  lacking  nothing.  This  is  the  soundness  of 
heart  that  excludes  a  blushing  consciousness  and  misgiv- 
ing, exempts  it  from  the  fear  of  a  shameful  discovery. 
"Let  my  heart  be  sound  in  thy  statutes,  is  paraphrased,  by 
having  respect  to  all  God's  commandments ;  to  which  is 
opposite,  that  being  "  partial  in  the  law,  spoken  of  by  the 
prophet,  by  way  of  complaint  concerning  the  priests  of 
that  time.  A  thing  hateful  in  the  eye  of  God,  and  as  un- 
comfortable to  ourselves,  as  to  be  without  a  leg  or  an  arm. 
And  see  that  it  be  preserved  entire  by  a  proportional  and 
uniform  growth,  that  fresh  life  and  motion  may  daily  ap- 
pear in  every  limb  of  this  heavenly  new  creature.  How 
odious  a  deformity  is  it,  when  a  show  of  moral  virtues  ex- 
cludes godliness  :  And  how  much  more  odious  (inasmuch 
as  there  is  more  impudent  falsehood  in  it,  and  more  dis- 
honourable reflection  upon  God)  when  under  a  high  pre- 
tence of  godliness,  any  shall  allow  themselves  in  visible 
immorality  1  What,  to  be  oppressive,  envious,  conten- 
tious, deceitful,  proud,  turbulent,  wrathful,  morose,  mali- 
cious, fretful,  and  peevish,  and  yet  a  Christian  1  What 
serious  person,  that  shall  have  no  fairer  representation  of 
Christianity  than  such  do  give,  would  not  be  ready  to  say 
rather,  Sit  anima  tnea  cum  philosophis,  If  this  be  Ckristian 
religion,  give  me  honest  paganism  ?  A  Christian  that  hath 
received  the  proper,  uniform,  entire  impress  of  the  gospel 
of  Christ,  is  the  most  meek,  mild,  calm,  harmless  thing  in 
the  world  Never  mention  ,so  venerable  a  name,  if  you 
will  not  be  very  jealous  of  the  honour  of  it.  Will  you  give 
God  occasion  to  charge  you,  Wretch,  I  never  had  had  this 
dishonour,  if  thou  hadst  never  been  called  a  Christian  ; 
thou  art  a  Christian  to  no  purpose,  or  to  very  had;  it  does 
thee  no  good,  and  it  injures  me  7  But  (which  is  more 
directly  considerable  as  to  our  present  purpose)  the  neglect 
and  consequent  decay  of  any  gracious  principle,  infers  a 
languor,  a  consumption  and  enfeeblement  of  all.  Any 
such  perverse  disposition  doth  not  affect  that  part  only,  is 
not  only  an  impairment  to  the  contrary  gracious  principle, 
but  (as  a  cancer  in  some  exterior  part  of  the  body)  it  gra- 
dually creeps  up  till  it  invade  the  vitals.  Can  the  love  of 
God  live  and  grow  in  an  unquiet,  angry,  uncharitable 
breast  1     Consider  Jam.  i.  26.    1  John  iii.  17. 

2.  Be  constantly  intent  upon  this  business  of  spiritual 
growth.  Mind  it  as  a  design,  make  a  solemn  purposed 
business  of  it,  your  great  daily  business.  You  do  not  till 
your  ground  by  chance,  as  a  casual  thing;  but  you  do  it 
industriously,  and  of  set  purpose.  The  apostle  speaking  of 
his  own  method  of  pursuing  conformity  to  Christ,  tells  us, 
P  he  did,  in  comparison,  count  all  things  else  loss  and  dog's 
meat;  he  threw  every  thing  else  aside.  Then  next  he  re- 
counts with  himself,  how  far  short  he  was ; '  not  as  if  I 
had  already  attained,  &e.  (where  by  the  waj'^  he  intimates, 
that  to  stand  still,  and  give  over  further  endeavours,  im- 
plies that  gross  absurdity,  as  if  we  thought  ourselves  to  have 
attained  already,  to  be  already  perfect ;  are  we  not  ashamed 
to  seem  so  conceited  of  ourselves  1)  and  then,  ■" still  as  he 
did  attain  in  this  pursuit  he  forgot  what  was  behind  ;  and 
held  on  his  course  with  fresh  and  constant  vigour,  slill 
reaching  forth  and  pressing  onward  towards  his  designed 
mark. 

In  this  great  business  we,  alas  !  seem  to  dream.  He  that 
hath  been  observed  ten  or  twenty  years  ago  to  be  proud, 
and  covetous,  or  passionate,  still  remains  so,  and  we  ap- 
prehend not  the  incongruity  of  it.  What,  always  learn- 
ing, and  yet  never  come  to  the  knowledge  of  the  truth  as 
it  is  in  Jesus,  to  the  putting  off  the  old  man,  and  putting 
on  the  new ']  Who  would  meddle  with  any  profession 
upon  such  terms,  to  be  always  doing  and  yet  to  do  no- 
thing 1  Surely  it  must  he  imputed  to  this,  we  design  not, 
we  do  not  seriously  intend  the  perfecting  of  holiness,  to 
make  a  real  progress  in  our  way  and  work,  and  to  get  still 
nearer  heaven,  as  we  draw  nearer  to  the  end  of  our  days  on 
earth.  We  too  contentedly  confine  ourselves  within  certain 
limits,  and  aim  not,  as  we  should,  at  a  spiritual  excellency. 

n  Psal.  cxix.  G,  80.  o  Mai.  ii.  9. 

p  Phil.  iii.  8  q  Ver.  9, 10.  r  Ver.  12,  13. 

s  Tiheriiis.  Npque  enim  eminentes  virtules  scctalialur,  et  rursiim  vitia 
oderat.    Tacit.  Aiinal. 


This  is  the  temper  of  many  that  have  long  trodden  the 
path  of  (at  least  an  external)  religion  ;  they  will  go  but 
their  own  pace,  and  that  within  a  self-prescribed  round  or 
circle.  They  perform  their  stated  task  of  religious  exer- 
cises, and  shun  the  grosser  vices  of  the  time  ;  and  resolve 
never  of  go  higher  :  much  like  the  character  that  was  once 
given  of  a  great  man,^  that  he  folloivednot  the  more  eminent 
virtues,  and  yet  that  he  hated  vice.  And  'tis  a  true  censure 
that  a  '  barbarian  is  said  to  have  given  of  that  middle  tem- 
per, that  dull  indifferency  :  What  is  equally  distant  from 
being  the  matter  either  of  praise  or  punishment,  is  upon  no 
terms  to  be  accounted  a  virtue.  At  least,  we  drive  not  on  a 
design  of  growth  and  self-improvement  in  our  spiritual 
states  with  that  constancy  we  ought ;  we  are  off  and  on  ; 
our  spirits  are  not  steadily  intent  "  we  are  unstable  as 
water,  how  can  we  excel "?  God  hath  not  put  us,  sure, 
upon  so  fruitless  a  task,  wherein  our  utmost  labour  and 
diligence  shall  profit  nothing.  Therefore  strive  more  vi- 
gorously, and  pray  with  more  earnest  importunity.  Con- 
sider and  plead  it  with  God,  that  he  hath  set  before  thee 
the  hope  of  such  a  state,  wherein  thou  art  to  be  perfectly 
like  him ;  and  shalt  thou  (that  must  hereafter  be  like  God) 
be  now  like  a  clod  of  earth  1  Thou  art  now  a  child  begot- 
ten of  him  ;  and  though  thou  art  yet  in  the  minority,  yet 
may  not  somewhat  be  spared  out  of  so  fair  an  estate,  here- 
after designed  for  thee,  as  that  thou  mayst  now  live  worthy 
of  such  a  Father,  and  suitable  to  thy  expected  inheritance. 
3.  And  now,  a  contented,  satisfied  temper  of  spirit,  as 
I  have  told  you,  results  from  the  other  two;  and  will 
therefore  follow,  of  course,  upon  growing  knowledge  of 
God,  and  conformity  to  him,  as  the  latter  of  these  also 
doth  upon  the  former.  Yea,  'tis  a  part  of  our  conformity 
to  God ;  but  a  part  consequent  to  the  impression  of  the 
things  mentioned  under  the  former  head,  as  knowledge  also 
is  a  part  previous  and  antecedent  thereto.  'Tis  in  the  state 
of  glory  we  see  something  superadded.  The  likeness  im- 
pressed is  pre-supposed ;  satisfaction  follows  thereupon. 
The  case  is  so  too  in  our  present  state;  contentment  is 
spoken  of  as  a  thing  consequent  and  superadded ;  godli- 
ness with  contentment.  A  satisfied  contented  spirit,  when 
'tis  the  result  of  godliness,  (of  the  Divine  image  impress- 
ed,) is  indeed  great  gain.  Yet  as  to  this  I  shall  only  say 
these  two  things. 

1.  Be  distinct  and  explicit  in  the  proposal  of  it  as  an 
end.  Religion  doth  not  brutify  men,  but  make  men  more 
rational.  Its  business  is  to  guide  them  to  blessedness.  It 
must,  therefore,  pitch  their  eyes  upon  it,  as  the  mark  and 
end  they  are  to  aim  at,  and  hold  them  intent  there.  'Tis 
ingenuous  and  honourable  to  God,  that  we  should  express- 
ly avow  it.  We  come  to  him  for  satisfaction  to  our 
spirits,  not  knowing  whither  else  to  apply  ourselves.  We 
turn  our  eyes  upon  him,  we  lay  open  our  souls  to  receive 
impressions  from  him,  for  this  very  end.  This  is  an  ex- 
plicit acknowledgment  of  him  as  God,  our  highest  sove- 
reign good. 

2.  Actually  apply  and  accommodate  divine  visions  and 
communications  to  this  purpose.  Say,  "  O  my  soul,  now 
come,  solace  thyself  in  this  appearance  of  God  ;  come, 
take  thy  allowed  pleasure  in  such  exertions  of  God,  as 
thou  dost  now  experience  in  thyself."  Recount  thy  hap- 
piness ;  think  how  great  it  is,  how  rich  thou  art;  on  pur- 
pose that  thy  .spirit  may  grow  more  daily  into  a  satisfied, 
contented  frame.  Often  bethink  thyself,  What  is  the  great 
God  doing  for  me,  that  he  thus  reveals  and  imparts-  him- 
self to  my  soul  1  O  how  great  things  do  those  present 
pledges  pre-signify  to  me  1  that  thou  mayst  still  more  and 
more  like  thy  portion,  and  account  it  fallen  in  pleasant 
places,  so  as  never  to  seek  satisfaction  in  things  of  another 
kind ;  though  thou  must  still  continue  expecting  and  desiring 
more  of  the  same  kind.  And  remember  to  this  purpose, 
there  cannot  be  a  greater  participation  of  the  misery  of 
hell  before-hand,  than  a  discontented  spirit  perpetually 
restless  and  weary  of  itself;  nor  of  the  blessedness  of 
heaven,  than  in  a  well-pleased,  satisfied,  contented  frame 
of  spirit. 


t  Thespesion,  Tlav  yap  n  Tijirff  tc,  Kai  Tti-iO'pias  wov  al'ts-rixev,  ovvu  apt- 
rn.    Pliiioiitr.  in  vit.  Apollon.  Tyan. 
u  Goti.  xli.v.  4 


Chap.  XIX. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


257 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

Rule  5.  Directing  to  raise  our  desires  above  the  actual  or  possible  attain- 
nieiits  of  this  our  present,  and  terminate  tliem  upim  the  future  (■onsMui- 
mate  state  of  blessedness.  The  rule  explained  and  pressed  by  sundry 
considerations.  Rule  6.  That  we  add  to  a  desirous  pursuit,  a  joyful  ex- 
piectation  of  tliis  blessedness,  which  is  pursued  in  certain  subordinate  direc- 
tions. 

Rule  5.  That  notwith.standing  all  our  pre.'jent  or  passi- 
ble attainments  in  this  imperfect  state  on  earth,  we  direct 
fervent  vigorous  desires  towards  the  perfect  and  consum- 
mate state  of  glory  itself;  not  designing  to  ourselves  a 
plenary  satisfaction  and  rest  in  any  thing  on  this  side  of 
it.  That  is,  that  forgetting  what  is  behind,  we  reach  forth 
not  only  to  what  is  immediately  before  us,  the  next  step 
to  be  taken  ;  but  that  our  eye  and  desire  aim  forward  at 
the  ultimate  period  of  our  race,  terminate  upon  the  eternal 
glorj''  itself;  and  that  not  only  as  a  measure,  according  to 
which  we  would  some  way  proportion  our  present  attain- 
ments, but  as  the  very  mark,  M-hich  (itself)  we  would  fain 
hit  and  reach  home  to.  And  that  this  be  not  only  the 
habitual  bent  and  tendency  of  our  spirits;  but  that  we 
keep  up  such  desires,  in  frequent  (and,  as  much  as  is  po.s- 
sible)  continual  exercise.  Yea,  and  that  such  actual  de- 
sires be  not  only  faint  and  sluggish  wishes,  but  full  of 
lively  efficacy  and  vigour;  in  some  measure  proportion- 
able to  our  last  end  and  highest  good ;  beyond  and  above 
which  we  neither  esteem  nor  expect  any  other  enjoyment. 
Whatsoever  we  may  possibly  attain  to  here,  we  should 
still  be  far  from  projecting  to  ourselves  a  state  of  rest  on 
this  side  consummate  glory,  but  still  urge  ourselves  to  a 
continual  ascent ;  so  as  to  mount  above,  not  only  all  enjoy- 
ments of  any  other  kind,  but  all  degrees  of  enjoyment  in 
this  kind,  that  are  beneath  perfection. 

Still  it  mu.st  be  remembered,  this  is  not  the  state  of  our 
final  rest.  The  ma.ss  of  glory  is  yet  in  reserve  ;  we  are 
not  yet  so  high  as  the  highest  heavens.  If  we  gain  but  the 
top  of  mount  Tabor,  we  are  apt  to  say,  'Tis  good  to  be 
here,  and  forget  the  longer  journey  yet  before  us,  loth  to 
think  of  a  further  advance;  when,  were  our  .spirits  right, 
how  far  soever  we  may  suppose  ourselves  to  have  attained, 
it  would  be  matter  of  continual  joy  to  us  to  think,  high 
perfections  are  still  attainable ;  that  we  are  yet  capable  of 
greater  things  than  what  we  have  hitherto  compassed ;  our 
souls  can  yet  comprehend  more.  Nature  intends  what  is 
most  perfect  in  every  creature ;  methinks  the  divine  nature 
in  the  new  creature,  should  not  design  lower,  or  cease 
aspiring,  till  it  have  attained  its  ultimate  perfection,  its 
culminating  point;  till  grace  turn  into  glory.  Let  us, 
therefore.  Christians,  bestir  ourselves;  let  us  open  and 
turn  our  eyes  upon  the  eternal  glory.  Let  us  view  it 
well,  and  then  demand  of  our  own  souls,  whj''  are  our  de- 
sires so  faint  and  slothful  1  why  do  they  so  seldom  pierce 
through  the  intervening  distance,  and  reach  home  to  what 
they  professedly  level  at;  so  rarely  touch  this  blessed 
mark  1  How  can  we  forbear  to  be  angry  with  ourselves, 
that  so  glorious  an  end  should  not  more  powerfully  attract ; 
that  our  hearts  should  not  more  sensibly  find  themselves 
drawn,  and  all  the  powers  of  the  soul  be  set  on  work  by 
the  attractive  power  of  that  glory  1  It  certainly  concerns 
us,  not  to  sit  still  under  so  manifest  a  distemper.  But  if 
the  proposal  of  the  object,  the  discourse  (all  this  while)  of 
this  blessed  state,  do  not  move  us  to  make  some  further 
trials  with  ourselves,  see  what  urging  and  reasoning  with 
our  souls,  what  rubbing  and  chafing  our  hearts  will  do. 
And  there  is  a  two-fold  trial  we  may  in  this  kind  make 
upon  our  spirits : — "What  the  sense  of  s/wme  will  work 
with  us;  whether  our  hearts  cannot  be  made  sensible  to 
suppose  how  vile  and  wretched  a  temper  it  is  to  be  unde- 
sirous  of  glory.  And  then  what  sense  of  praise  can  elfect, 
or  what  impression  it  may  make  upon  us  to  consider  the 
excellency  and  worth,  the  high  reasonableness,  of  that  tem- 
per and  posture  of  soul  which  I  am  now  persuading  to,  a 
continual  desirousness  of  that  blessed,  glorious  state. 

I.  As  to  the  former:  Let  us  bethink  ourselves,  Can 
we  answer  it  to  God  or  to  our  own  souls,  that  we  should 
indulge  ourselves  in  a  continual  negligence  of  our  eternal 
blessedness  1  a  bles.sedness  consisting  in  the  vision  and 
participation  of  the  Divine  glory  1    Have  we  been  dream- 


mg,  all  this  while,  that  God  hath  been  revealing  to  us  this 
glorious  state,  and  setting  this  lovely  prospect  before  our 
eyes'?  Did  it  become  us  not  to  open  our  eyes  while  he 
was  opening  heaven  to  us,  and  representing  the  state 
which  he  designed  to  bring  us  to"?  or  will  we  say.  We 
have  .seen  it  and  yet  desire  it  notl  Have  we  been  deaf 
and  dead  while  he  hath  been  calling  us  into  eternal 
glory  1  have  all  our  senses  been  bound  up  all  this  while  1 
Hath  he  been  speaking  all  along  to  senseless  slalues,  to 
stocks  and  .stones,  while  he  expected  reasonable,  living 
souls  should  have  received  the  voice,  and  have  relumed 
an  obedient,  complying  answer  1  And  what  answer  could 
be  expected  to  such  a  call  (a  call  to  his  glory)  below  this, 
We  desire  it,  Lord,  we  would  fain  be  there.  And  if  we 
say  we  have  not  been  all  this  while  asleep,  we  saw  the 
light  that  shone  upon  us,  we  heard  the  voice  that  called  to 
us;  wherewith  shall  we  then  excuse  ourselves,  that  our 
desires  were  not  moved,  that  our  souls  were  not  presently 
in  a  flame  1  Was  it  then,  that  we  thought  all  a  mere 
fiction;  that  we  dur.st  not  give  credit  to  his  word,  when 
it  brought  us  the  report  of  the  everlasting  glory  1  Will  we 
avow  this?  Is  this  that  we  will  stand  by  1  Or  what  else 
have  we  left  to  say  1  Have  we  a  more  plausible  reai^on  to 
allege,  that  the  discovery  of  such  a  glory  moved  us  not 
to  desire  it,  than  that  we  believed  it  notl  Sure  this  is  the 
truth  of  our  case.  We  should  feel  this  heavenly  fire 
always  burning  in  our  breasts,  if  our  infidelity  did  not 
quench  the  coal.  If  we  did  believe,  we  could  not  but  de- 
sire. But  doth  not  the  thoughts  of  this  shake  our  verj' 
souls,  and  fill  us  with  horror  and  trembling  1  We  that 
should  be  turned  into  indignation,  and  ready  to  burn  our- 
selves with  our  own  flame,  and  all  about  us,  if  one  should 
give  us  the  lie;  that  we  should  dare  to  put  the  lie  upon 
the  ctertml  tndfi:  upon  him  whose  word  gave  stability 
and  being  to  the  world,  who  made  and  sustains  all  things 
by  it !  That  awful  word  !  That  word  that  shivers  roclcs, 
and  melts  down  mountains,  that  makes  the  animate  crea- 
tion tremble,  that  can  in  a  moment  blast  all  things,  and 
dissolve  the  frame  of  heaven  and  earth  (which  in  the  mean- 
time it  upholds:)  is  that  become  with  us  fabulous,  lying 
breath  1  Those  God-breathed  oracles,  those  heavenly  re- 
cords, which  discover  and  describe  this  blessed  state,  are 
they  false  and  foolish  legends  1  Must  that  be  pretended  at 
last  (if  men  durst)  that  is  so  totally  void  of  all  pretences'? 
What  should  he  the  gain  or  advantage  accruing  to  that 
eternal,  all-sufficient  Being'?  What  accession  should  be 
made  to  that  infinite  self-fulness  by  deluding  a  worm"? 
Were  it  consistent  with  his  nature;  what  could  be  his 
design  to  put  a  cheat  upon  poor  mortal  dust  ?  If  thou  dare 
not  impute  it  to  him ;  such  a  deception  had  a  beginning, 
but  what  author  canst  thou  miagine  of  it,  or  what  end  ■? 
Did  it  proceed  from  a  good  man  or  a  bad'?  Could  a  good 
and  honest  mind  form  so  horribly  wicked  a  design,  to 
impose  a  universal  delusion  and  lie  upon  the  world,  in 
the  name  of  the  true  and  holy  Godi  Or  could  a  wicked 
mind  frame  a  design  so  directly  levelled  against  wicked- 
ness'? Or  is  there  any  thing  so  aptly  and  naturally  tend- 
ing to  form  the  world  to  sobriety,  holiness,  purity  of  con- 
versation, as  the  discovery  of  this  future  state  of  glory  "? 
And  since  the  belief  of  future  felicity  is  knox^ii  to  obtain 
universally  among  men,  whu  could  be  the  author  of  so 
common  a  deception  1  If  thou  hadst  the  mind  to  impose 
a  lie  upon  all  the  world,  what  course  wouldst  thou  lake  1 
HoM"  wouldst  thou  lay  the  design  1  Or  why  dost  thou  in 
this  case  imagine,  what  thou  knowest  not  how  to  imagine'? 
And  dost  thou  not  without  scruple  believe  many  things 
of  which  thou  never  hadst  so  unquestionable  evidence  1 
Or  must  that  fiiith,  which  is  the  foundation  of  thy  religion 
and  eternal  hopes,  be  the  most  suspected,  shaking  thing 
with  thee  ;  and  have,  of  all  other,  the  least  stabiliiy  and 
rootedness  in  thy  soul  ?  If  thou  canst  not  excuse  thy  in- 
fidelir\',  be  a.shamed  of  thy  so  cold  and  sluggish  desires  of 
this  glorious  state. 

And  doth  it  not  argue  a  low,  sordid  spirit,  not  to  desire 
and  aim  at  ihe  perfection  thou  art  capable  of;  not  to  desire 
that  blessedness  which  alone  is  suitable  and  satisfying  to 
a  reasonable  and  spiritual  being"?  Bethink  thyself  a  little; 
How  low  art  tliou  sunk  into  the  dirt  of  the  earth !  how 
art  thou  plunged  into  the  mirv  ditch,  that  even  thine  own 
clothes  might  abhor  thee !     Is  the  Father  of  spirits  thy 


258 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


Chap.  XIX. 


father  1  is  the  world  of  spirits  thy  country  1  hast  thou  any 
relation  to  that  heavenly  progeny  1  art  thou  allied  to  that 
blessed  family ;  and  yet  undesirous  of  the  same  blessed- 
ness 1  Canst  thou  savour  nothing  but  what  smells  of  the 
earth  1  Is  nothing  grateful  to  thy  soul,  but  what  is  cor- 
rupted by  so  vicious  and  impure  a  tincture  1  Are  all  thy 
delights  centred  in  a  dunghill ;  and  the  polluted  pleasures 
of  a  filthy  world  better  to  thee  than  the  eternal  visions 
and  enjoyments  of  heaven?  What,  art  thou  all  made  of 
earth?  Is  thy  soul  stupified  into  a  clodl  Hast  thou  no 
sense  with  thee  of  any  thing  better  and  more  excellent  1 
Canst  thou  look  upon  no  glorious  thing  with  a  pleased 
eye  1  Are  things  only  desirable  and  lovely  to  thee,  as  they 
are  deformed  1  O  consider  the  corrupted,  distempered 
state  of  thy  spirit,  and  how  vile  a  disposition  it  hath  con- 
tracted to  itself!  Thine  looks  too  like  the  vmndane  spirit ; 
the  spirit  of  the  world.  The  apostle  speaks  of  it  *  <5ia(cpiTC(fi?s, 
by  wa7j  of  distiiiction ;  We  have  not  received  the  spirit  of 
the  world,  but  the  spirit  that  is  from  God,  that  we  might 
know,  or  see  (and  no  doubt  'tis  desire  that  animates  that 
eye ;  'tis  not  bare  speculative  intuition  and  no  more)  the 
things  freely  given  us  of  God.  Surely  he  whose  desire 
doth  not  guide  his  eye  to  the  beholding  of  those  things, 
hath  received  the  spirit  of  the  world  only.  A  spirit  that 
conforms  him  to  this  world,  makes  him  think  only  thoughts 
of  this  world,  and  drive  the  designs  of  this  world,  and 
speak  the  language  of  this  world.  A  spirit  that  connatur- 
alizes  him  to  the  world,  makes  him  of  a  temper  suitable  to 
it :  he  breathes  only  worldly  breath,  carries  a  worldly  as- 
pect, is  of  a  worldly  conversation.  O  poor  low  spirit, 
that  such  a  world  should  withhold  thee  from  the  desire 
and  pursuit  of  such  glory!  Art  thou  not  ashamed  to  think 
what  thy  desires  are  wont  to  pitch  upon,  while  they  de- 
cline and  waive  this  blessedness  1  Methinks  thy  very 
shame  should  compel  thee  to  quit  the  name  of  a  saint  or  a 
man:  to  forbear  numbering  thyself  with  any  that  pretend 
to  immortality,  and  go  seek  pasture  among  the  beasts  of 
the  field,  with  them  that  live  that  low,  animal  life  that 
thou  dost,  and  expect  no  other. 

And  when  thou  so  fallest  in  with  the  world,  how  highly 
dost  thou  gratify  the  pretending  and  usurping  god  of  it ! 
The  great  fomenter  of  the  sensual,  worldly  genius  ;b  the 
spirit  itself  that  works  in  the  children  of  disobedience,  and 
makes  them  follow  the  course  of  the  world,  holds  them 
fast  bound  in  worldly  lusts,  and  leads  them  captive  at  his 
will ;  causes  them  (after  his  own  serpentine  manner)  to 
creep  and  crawl  in  the  dust  of  the  earth.  He  is  most  inti- 
mate to  this  apostate  world ;  informs  it  (as  it  were)  and 
actuates  it  in  every  part;  is  even  one  great  soul  to  it. 
<^  The  whole  world  lies  in  that  wicked  one;  as  the  body, 
by  the  best  philosophers,  is  said  to  be  in  the  soul.  The 
world  is  said  to  be  d  convicted  when  he  is  judged.  He 
having  fallen  from  a  state  of  blessedness  in  God,  hath  in- 
volved the  world  with  himself  in  the  same  apostacy  and 
condemnation  ;  and  labours  to  keep  them  fast  in  the  bands 
of  death.  The  great  Redeemer  of  souls  makes  this  his 
business,  «to  loose  and  dissolve  the  work  of  the  devil. 
With  that  wicked  one  thou  compliest  against  thy  own  soul 
and  the  Redeemer  of  it,  while  thou  neglectest  to  desire 
and  pursue  this  blessedness.  This  is  thy  debasement,  and 
his  triumph  ;  the  vile  succumbency  gives  him  the  day  and 
his  will  upon  thee.  He  desires  no  more  than  that  he  may 
suppress  in  thee  all  heavenly  desires,  and  keep  thee  thus  a 
slave  and  a  prisoner  (confined  in  thy  spirit  to  this  low, 
dark  dimgeon)  by  thy  own  consent.  While  thou  remain- 
est  without  desire  after  heaven,  he  is  secure  of  thee,  as 
knowing  then  thou  wilt  take  no  other  way,  but  what  will 
bring  ihee  unto  the  same  eternal  state  with  himself  in  the 
end.  He  is  jealous  over  thee,  that  thou  direct  not  a  de- 
sire nor  glance  an  eye  heaven-ward.  While  thou  dost 
not  so,  thou  art  entirely  subject,  and  givest  as  full  obe- 
dience to  him,  as  thy  God  requires  to  himself  in  order  to 
thy  blessedness.  But  is  it  a  thing  tolerable  to  thy  thoughts, 
that  thou  shonldst  yield  that  heart-obedience  to  the  devil 
against  God  1  And  this  being  the  state  of  thy  case,  what 
more  significant  expression  canst  thou  make  of  the  con- 
tempt of  Divine  goodness  1  O  the  love  that  thou  neglect- 
est, while  the  most  glorious  issue  and  product  of  it  is  with 
thee  an  undesired  thing!     Yea,  this  the  thing  itself  speaks, 

a  1  Cor.  ii.  12.    tiioifiev.  b  Epb.  ii.  2,  3. 


were  there  no  such  competition.  What,  that  when  eter- 
nal love  hath  conceived,  and  is  travailing  to  bring  forth 
such  a  birth  ;  that  when  it  invites  thee  to  an  expectation  of 
such  glory  shortly  to  be  revealed,  the  result  of  so  deep 
counsels  and  wonderful  works,  this  should  be  the  return 
from  thee,  I  desire  it  not?  Is  this  thy  gratitude  to  the 
Father  of  glory,  the  requital  of  the  kindness,  yea,  and  of 
the  blood,  of  thy  Redeemer  1  If  this  blessedness  were  not 
desirable  for  itself,  methinks  the  offerer's  hand  should  be 
a  sufficient  endearment.  But  thou  canst  not  so  divide  or 
abstract,  it  consists  in  beholding  and  bearing  his  glorious 
likeness  who  invites  thee  to  it;  and  therefore  in  the  neg- 
lect of  it  thou  most  highly  aff'rontest  him. 

Yea,  further,  is  it  not  a  monstrous  unnaturalness  towards 
thyself,  as  well  as  impiety  towards  God,  not  to  desire  that 
perfect,  final  blessedness  '\  Doth  not  every  thing  naturally 
tend  to  its  ultimate  perfection  and  proper  end!  What 
creature  would  not  witness  against  thee,  if  thou  neglect, 
in  thine  own  capacity  and  kind,  to  aim  at  thine  1  Surely 
thou  canst  not  allow  thyself  to  think  any  thing  beneath 
this,  worthy  to  be  owned  by  thee,  under  that  notion,  of  thy 
highest  good  and  thy  last  end.  But  that  thy  spirit  should 
labour  under  an  aversion  towards  thy  highest  good,  to- 
wards thy  blessedness  itself,  is  not  that  a  dismal  token 
upon  theel  If  thou  didst  disaffect  and  nauseate  the  things 
in  which  thy  present  life  is  bound  up,  and  without  which 
thou  canst  not  live,  wouldst  thou  not  think  thy  case  de- 
plorate  ?  What  dost  thou  think  will  become  of  thy  soul, 
whose  everlasting  life  is  bound  up  in  that  very  good  which 
thou  desircst  not ;  which  cannot  live  that  life  without  that 
good,  nor  with  it,  if  thou  hast  no  desire  to  it  1  O  the  eternal 
resentments  thy  soul  will  have  of  this  cruelty !  to  be  witli- 
held  from  that  wherein  its  life  lies !  Wouldst  thou  not 
judge  him  unnatural  that  should  kill  his  brother,  assassin 
his  father,  starve  his  child  1  What  shall  be  said  of  him 
that  destroys  himself?  How  may  that  soul  lament  that  ever 
it  was  thine ;  and  say,  O  that  I  had  ratlier  been  of  any  such 
lower  kind,  to  have  animated  a  fly,  to  have  inspirited  a 
vile  worm,  rather  than  to  have  served  a  reasonable  beast, 
that  by  me  knew  the  good  it  would  never  follow,  and  did 
not  desire!  But  if  thou  hast  any  such  desires,  in  a  low 
degree,  after  this  blessedness,  as  thou  thinkest  may  entitle 
thee  to  the  name  thou  bearest,  of  a  saint,  a  Christian ;  is 
it  not  still  very  unnatural  to  pursue  a  good,  approved  by 
thy  stated  judgment  as  best  in  itself,  and  for  thee,  with  so 
unproportionable,  so  slothful  desires  ?  For  the  same  rea- 
son thou  dost  desire  it  at  all,  thou  shouldst  desire  it  much; 
yea,  and  still  more  and  more,  till  thou  attain  it,  and  be 
swallowed  up  into  it.  Thy  best  and  last  good  thou  canst 
never  desire  too  much.  And  let  it  be  considered  by  thee, 
that  the  temper  thou  thinkest  thyself  innocent  of,  an  habi- 
tual prevalent  disafl'ection  to  the  true  blessedness  of  saints, 
may  for  ought  thou  knowest  be  upon  thee  ;  while  it  ap- 
pears thou  art  so  very  near  the  borders  of  it ;  and  it  appears 
not  with  such  certainty  that  thou  partakest  not  in  it.  It  is 
not  so  easy  a  matter,  critically  to  distinguish  and  conclude 
of  the  lowest  degree  (in  hypothesi,  or  with  application  to 
thy  own  case)  of  that  desire  which  is  necessary  to  qualify 
thee  for  the  enjoyment  of  this  blessedness.  And  is  it  not 
a  matter  both  of  shame  and  terror,  that  thou  shouldst  de- 
sire thy  blessedness  so  faintly,  as  not  to  know  whether  thou 
truly  desire  it  at  all.  'Tis  true,  that  a  certainty,  amongst 
such  as  may  be  sincere,  is  very  little  common ;  but  whence 
proceeds  it,  but  from  their  too  common,  indulged  sloth; 
out  of  which  all  this  is  designed  to  awaken  thee.  And  the 
commonness  whereof  doth  as  little  detract  from  the  re- 
proach and  sinfulness,  as  from  the  danger  of  it.  'Tis  but 
a  poor  defence,  for  what  is  intrinsically  evil  in  itself,  that 
it  is  common. 

But  further,  as  the  case  is,  this  is  so  reproachful  a  thing, 
even  in  common  estimate, — not  to  desire  heaven  and  eter- 
nal glory,  or  to  desire  it  with  very  cold  and  careless  desires 
— that  there  are  few  will  profess  it,  or  own  it  to  be  their 
temper ;  much  fewer  that  will  undertake  to  excuse  or 
justify  it.  'Tis  so  evilly  thought  of,  that  among  merely 
sober  and  rational  men,  it  can  never  find  an  advocate,  or 
any  that  will  afford  it  patronage.  The  generality  pretend 
a  desire  of  going  to  heaven,  and  being  with  God.  If  any 
be  so  observant  of  themselves  as  to  Know,  and  so  ingenu- 


c  1  John  V.  19. 


i  John  xvi. 


e  1  John  iii  8. 


Chap.  XIX. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


259 


ous  as  to  confesi  it  otherwise  with  them,  they  complain  of 
it  as  their  fault,  and  say,  they  would  fain  have  it  redressed, 
but  are  far  from  assuming  that  conlidence,  to  defend  or 
plead  for  it.  Consider  then,  wilt  thou  persist  in  such  a 
temper  and  disposition  of  mind  as  all  men  condenm  ;  and 
be  guilty  of  so  odious  a  thing,  as  shall  be  censured  and 
blamed  by  the  common  concurrent  vote  and  judgment  of 
mankind  1  Thou  wouldst  be  ashamed  to  stand  forth  and 
profess  openly  to  men,  that  thou  desirest  an  earthly  feli- 
city more  than  a  blessedness  in  heaven  ;  or  at  least,  that 
thou  art  so  indifferent,  and  the  scales  hang  so  even  with 
thee,  that  thou  canst  hardly  tell  which  way  they  incline 
most.  And  art  thou  not  ashamed  that  this  should  be  thy 
usual  temper;  how  much  soever  thou  conceal  it  from  the 
notice  and  observation  of  the  worlds  Moreover,  how  can 
it  escape  thy  serious  reflection,  that  if  thou  pretend  it 
otherwise  with  thee,  'tis  but  to  add  one  sin  to  another,  and 
cover  thy  carnality  with  hypocrisy  and  dissimulation  ! 
Yea,  while  thou  continuest  in  that  temper  of  spirit,  not  to 
desire  this  blessedness  as  thy  supreme  end,  the  whole  of 
thy  religion  is  but  an  empty  show,  an  artificial  disguise; 
it  carries  an  appearance  and  pretence,  as  if  thou  wast  aim- 
ing at  God  and  glory,  while  thy  heart  is  set  another  way, 
and  the  bent  of  thy  soul  secretly  carries  thee  a  counter- 
course.  Hath  not  religion  an  aspect  toM'ards  blessedness'! 
What  mean  thy  praying,  thy  hearing,  thy  sacramental 
communion,  if  thou  have  not  a  design  for  eternal  glory  1 
What  makest  thou  in  this  way,  if  thou  have  not  thy  heart 
set  towards  this  end  1 

Nor  is  it  more  dishonest  and  unjust,  than  it  is  foolish 
and  absurd,  that  the  disposition  and  tendency  of  thy  soul 
should  be  directly  contrary  to  the  only  design  of  the  reli- 
gion thou  professest  and  doth  extei'nally  practise.  Thy 
profession  and  desires  are  nothing  but  self-contradiction. 
Thou  art  continually  running  counter  to  thyself;  outward- 
ly pursuing  what  thou  inwardl}^  declines!.  Thy  real  end 
(which  can  be  no  other  than  what  thou  really  desirest  and 
seltest  thy  heart  upon)  and  thy  visible  way  are  quite  con- 
trary :  so  that  while  thou  continuest  the  course  of  religion, 
in  which  thou  art  engaged,  having  taken  ilown  from  before 
thine  eyes  the  end  which  thou  shouldst  be  aiming  at,  and 
which  alone  religion  can  aptly  subserve,  thy  religion  hath 
no  design  or  end  at  all,  none  at  least  which  thou  wouldst 
not  be  ashamed  to  profess  and  own.  Indeed  this  temper 
of  heart  I  am  now  pleading  against,  an  undesirousness  or 
indilTerency  of  spirit  towards  the  eternal  glory,  renders  re- 
ligion the  vainest  thing  in  the  world.  For  whereas  all  the 
other  actions  of  our  lives  have  their  stated,  proper  ends, 
religion  hath  in  this  case  none  at  all ;  none  to  which  it 
hath  any  designation  in  this  nature,  or  any  aptness  to  sub- 
serve. This  monstrous  absurdity  it  infers,  (and  howslrange 
is  it,  that  it  should  not  be  reflected  on  1)  That  whereas  if 
you  ask  any  man  of  common  understanding,  what  he  doth 
this  or  that  action  for,  especially  if  they  be  stated  actions, 
done  by  him  in  an  ordinary  course,  he  can  readily  tell 
you,  for  such  and  such  an  end  :  but  ask  him  why  he  con- 
tinues any  practice  of  religion,  he  cannot  say  (in  this  case) 
for  what.  For  can  any  man  imagine  what  other  end  reli- 
gion naturally  serves  for,  but  to  bring  men  to  blessedness  1 
W  nich  being  no  other  thing  than  what  hath  been  here  de- 
scribed ;  such  as  are  found  not  to  desire  it  really  and  su- 
premely, as  their  end,  can  have  no  real  attainable  end  of 
their  being  religious  at  all.  To  drive  on  a  continued 
course  and  series  of  actions  in  a  visible  pursuit  of  that 
W'hich  they  desire  not,  and  have  no  mind  to,  is  such  apiece 
of  folly,  so  fond  and  vain  a  trifling,  that  as  I  remember 
Cicero  reports  Cato  to  have  said  concerning  the  sooth- 
sa3^ers  of  his  time,  he  did  wonder  they  could  look  in  one 
another's  faces  and  not  laugh ;  (being  conscious  to  each 
other's  impostures,  and  the  vanity  of  their  profession  ;)  so 
one  would  as  justly  wonder  that  the  generality  of  carnal 
men  (who  may  shrewdly  guess  at  the  temper  of  one  an- 
other's minds,)  do  not  laugh  at  each  other,  that  they  are 
jointly  engaged  in  such  exercises  of  religion,  to  the  design 
whereof  the  common  and  agreed  temper  of  their  spirits  do 
so  little  correspond.  As  if  all  were  in  very  good  earnest 
for  heaven,  when  each  one  knows  for  himself,  and  may 
(possibly  with  more  truth  than    charity)  suppose  of  the 


f  Heb  xi.  16. 
h  2  Cor.  V.  i. 


e »  Theas.  ii.  12. 
i  Heb.  iii.  I. 


rest,  that  if  they  might  alwa)'s  continue  in  their  earthly 
stations,  they  had  rather  never  come  there.  And  therefore 
that  they  desire  it  not  supremely,  and  so  not  a.s  their  end 
at  all;  consider  it  then,  that  thy  no-desire  of  this  blessed 
state  quite  dispirits  thy  religion,  utterly  ravishes  away  its 
.soul,  leaves  it  a  dead,  foolish,  vain  thing,  renders  it  an  idle 
iinpertinency,  not  a  mean  to  a  valuable  end.  This  desire 
is  the  life  of  religion  ;  all  duties  and  exercisesof  piety  are 
without  it,  but  empty  formalities,  solemn  pieces  of  pagean- 
try; every  service  done  to  God,  but  the  sacrifice  of  a  fool, 
if  not  animated  by  the  desire  of  linal  blessedness  in  bim, 
and  be  not  part  of  our  way  thither,  a  means  designed  to 
the  attainment  of  it ;  which  nothing  can  be,  that  we  are 
not  put  upon  by  the  virtue  of  the  desired  end.  Without 
this,  religion  is  not  itself.  A  continuance  in  well-doing 
is  as  it  were  the  body  of  it ;  and  therein  a  seeking  honour, 
glory,  and  immortality,  the  soul  and  .spirit.  The  desire  of  a 
heavenly  country  must  run  through  the  whole  course  of 
our  earthly  pilgrimage :  it  were  olherwi.se  a  continued  er- 
ror, an  uncertain  wandering,  no  steady  tending  towards  our 
end  :  so  that  thou  art  a  mere  vagrant,  if  this  desire  do  not 
direct  thy  course  towards  thy  Father's  house.  And  me- 
thinks  ail  this  should  make  thee  even  ashamed  of  thyself, 
if  thou  canst  not  find  this  desire  to  have  a  settled  resi- 
dence, and  a  ruling  power  in  thy  soul.     Then, 

2.  Sense  of  praise  should  signify  something  too,  as  the 
apostle,  Whatsoever  things  are— pure,  lovely,  &c.  If  there 
be  any  virtue, — any  praise,  think  of  these  things.  And 
hath  not  the  eternal  glory  those  characters  upon  it  of  pu- 
rity and  loveliness  beyond  all  things  1  Is  it  not  a  laudable 
and  praiseworthy  thing,  to  have  a  heart  and  mind  set 
upon  that  1  The  blessed  God  puts  a  note  of  excellency 
upon  this  temper  of  spirit :  f  But  they  desire  a  better  coun- 
trv,  that  is,  a  heavenly ;  wherefore  God  is  not  ashamed  to 
be  called  their  God,  &c.  This  renders  them  a  people  wor- 
thy of  him  who  hath  called  them  to  his  kingdom  and  glo- 
ry;  =  fit  for  him  to  own  a  relation  to.  Had  they  been  of 
low,  terrene  spirits,  he  would  have  accounted  it  a  shame 
to  him,  to  have  gone  under  the  name  and  cognizance  of 
their  God.  But  ina.smuch  as  they  desire  the  heavenly 
country,  have  learned  to  trample  this  terrestrial  world, 
cannot  be  contained  within  this  lower  sphere,  nor  satisfy 
themselves  in  earthly  things  ;  they  now  discover  a  certain 
excellency  of  spirit,  in  respect  whereof,  God  is  not  ashamed 
to  own  a  relation  to  them,  before  all  the  world  to  be  callefl 
their  God;  to  let  men  see  what  account  he  makes  of  such 
a  spirit.  Yea,  this  is  the  proper,  genuine  spirit  and  tem- 
per of  a  saint,  which  agrees  to  him  as  he  is  such.  He  is 
begotten  to  the  eternal  inheritance.  A  disposition  (and 
therein  a  desire)  to  it  is  in  his  very  nature,  (the  new  nature 
he  hath  received,)  implanted  there  from  his  original.  He 
is  born  spirit  of  Spirit,  and  by  that  birth  is  not  entitled 
only,  but  adapted  and  suited  also  to  that  pure  and  spirit- 
ualstate  of  blessedness.  That  grace,  by  the  appearance 
whereof  men  are  made  Christians,  teaches  also,  instructs 
to  this  very  thing,  to  look  for  this  blessed  hope,  the  glori- 
ous appearance  of  the  great  God  and  our  Saviour  Jesus 
Christ ;  that  which  ymi  know  consummates  that  blessed- 
ness. For  when  Christ,  who  is  their  life,  shall  appear, 
then  shall  they  also  appear  with  him  in  glory  ;  by  the  par- 
ticipation of  the  divine  nature,  their  spiiiis  escape  and  get 
up  above  this  corrupt,  impure  world.  That  new  nature 
is  a  holy  flame  that  carries  their  hearts  upwards  towards 
heaven. 

Further,  such  desires  appear  hence  to  be  of  divine  ori- 
ginal, an  infusion  from  the  blessed  God  himself  That 
nature  is  from  him  immediately  in  which  they  are  implant- 
ed. The  apostle  speaking  of  his  earnest,  panting  desire  h 
to  have  mortality  swallowed  up  of  life,prcsentl3'  adds,  He 
that  wrought  us  to  the  self-same  thing  is  God.  They  arc 
obedient  desires ;  the  soul's  present  answer  >  to  the  heaven 
ly  call,  by  which  God  calls  it  to  his  kingdom  and  glory 
k  This  glory  is  (as  hath  been  formerly  noted)the  very  term 
of  that  callin?.  i  The  God  of  all  grace  hath  called  ns  into 
his  eternal  glory,  by  Christ  Jesus\  The  glorified  state  if 
"'the  mark,  the  prize  of  the  high  callingof  God  in  Christ 
'Tis  the  matter  of  the  apostle's  thanksgiving  unto  God. 
on  the  behalf  of  the  Thessalonians,  that  "  they  were  called 


k  1  Tlioss.  ii.  15. 
Ill  Phil.  iii.  U. 


I  1  Pet.  V.  15. 
n  8  Thess.  ii.  12. 


260 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


Chap.  XIX. 


by  his  Gospel,  to  the  obtaining  of  the  glory  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  ChriM.  When  the  soul  desires  this  glory,  it  obedi- 
ently answers  this  call.  This  is  a  compliance  and  subjec- 
tion of  heart  to  it.  How  lovely  and  becoming  a  thing  is 
this,  when  God  touches  the  heart  with  a  stamp  and  im- 
press of  glory,  and  it  forthwith  turns  itself  to  that  very 
point,  and  stands  directly  bent  towards  the  state  of  glory ; 
is  not  wayward  or  perverse,  bat  herein  yields  itself  to 
God,  and  complies  with  the  Divine  pleasure.  Such  de- 
sires have  much  in  them  of  a  child-like  ingenuity  ;  to  de- 
sire the  sight  of  a  father's  face  ;  when  this  is  the  intimate 
sense  of  the  soul.  Show  me  the  Father  and  it  suffices. 
To  desire  the  fullest  conformity  to  his  nature  and  will,  to 
be  perfect  as  that  heavenly  Father  is  perfect,  what  doth 
better  become  a  child "?  They  are  generous  desires  ;  they 
aim  at  perfection,  the  highest  that  created  nature  is  capa- 
ble of;  not  contented  to  have  had  some  glances  of  Divine 
glory,  some  strokes  and  lines  of  his  image,  but  aspiring  to 
lull-eyed  visions,  a  perfect  likeness.  They  are  victorious 
desires ;  they  (as  it  were)  ride  in  triumph  over  the  world 
and  every  sublunary  thing;  they  must  be  supposed  to 
have  conquered  sensual  inclinations,  to  have  got  the  mas- 
tery over  terrene  dispositions  and  affections.  With  what 
holy  contempt  and  scorn  of  every  earthly  thing  doth  that 
lofty  sou!  quit  this  dirty  world  and  ascend,  that  is  power- 
fully carried  by  its  own  desire  towards  that  blessed  state  1 
The  desire  of  such  a  knowledge  of  Christ,  as  might  trans- 
form into  his  likeness,  and  pass  the  soul  through  all  degrees 
of  conformity  to  him,  till  it  attain  the  resurrection  of  the 
dead,  and  become  like  a  risen,  glorified  Jesus  ;  such  a  de- 
sire I  say,  if  it  make  all  things  seem  as  loss  and  dung  in 
comparison,  (even  a  formal,  spiritless  religion  itself,)  will 
it  not  render  this  world  the  most  despicable  dunghill  of  all 
the  resf?  Try  such  a  soul  if  you  can,  tempt  it  down  to 
enjoy  a  flattering,  kind  world,  or  to  please  it  when  angry 
and  unkind.  When  desires  after  this  glory  are  once  awa- 
kened into  an  active,  lively  vigour,  when  the  fire  is  kin- 
dled, and  the  flame  ascends,  and  this  refined  spirit  is  jo)^- 
fully  ascending  therein,  see  if  you  can  draw  it  back,  and 
make  it  believe  this  world  amoreregardabie  thing.  Why 
should  not  all  those  considerations  make  thee  in  love  with 
this  blessed  frame  of  spirit,  and  restless  till  thou  find  thy- 
self incapable  of  being  satisfied  with  any  thing  but  divine 
Jikeness  1 

6.  Rule.  That  while  we  cannot  as  yet  attain  the  mark 
and  end  of  our  desires,  we  yield  not  to  a  comfortless  des- 
pondency in  the  way,  but  maintain  in  our  hearts  a  lively 
joy,  in  the  hope  that  hereafter  we  shall  attain  it.  We  are  not 
all  this  while  persuading  to  the  desire  and  pursuit  of  an 
imattainable  good.  Spiritual  desires  are  also  rational,  and 
do  therefore  involve  hope  with  them  ;  and  that  hope  ought 
to  infer  and  cherish  joy.  Hopeless  desire  is  full  of  tor- 
ment, and  must  needs  banish  joy  from  that  breast  which  it 
hath  got  the  possession  of.  'Tis  a  disconsolate  thing,  to 
desire  what  we  must  never  expect  to  enjoy,  and  are  utter- 
ly unlikely  ever  to  compass.  But  these  desires  are  part 
of  the  new  creature,  which  is  not  of  such  a  composition, 
as  to  have  a  principle  of  endless  trouble  and  disquiet  in  it- 
self. The  Father  of  mercies  is  not  so  little  merciful  to 
his  own  child,  to  lay  it  under  a  necessity,  from  its  very 
natural  constitution,  of  being  for  ever  miserable  by  the  de- 
sire of  that  which  it  can  never  have.  It  had  been  verj' 
unlike  the  workmanship  of  God,  to  make  a  creature  to 
which  it  should  be  necessary  to  d  sire,  and  impossible  to 
enjoy  the  same  thing.  No ;  but  as  he  has  given  holy  souls, 
(as  to  the  present  case,)  great  incentives  of  desire,  so  dolh 
he  afford  them  proportionable  encouragement  of  hope 
also;  and  that  hope  intervening,  can  very  well  reconcile 
desire  and  joy,  and  lodge  them  together  in  the  same  bosom. 
So  that  as  it  is  a  thing  capable  of  no  excuse,  to  hear  of  this 
blessedness  and  not  desire  it ;  so  it  would  be,  to  desire  and 
not  expect  it,  to  expect  it,  and  not  rejoice  in  it,  even  while 
we  are  under  that  expectation.  And  it  must  be  a  very 
raised  joy  that  shall  answer  to  the  expectation  of  so  great 
things.  Kone  should  give  a  stranger  to  Christianity  an 
account  of  the  Christian  hopes,  and  tell  him  what  they 
expect  to  be  and  enjo}',  ere  long;  he  would  sure  promise 
himself,  lo  find  so  many  angels  dwelling  in  huuian  flesh, 
and  reckon  when  he  came  among  them  he  should  be  as 
o  P9al.  i  3. 


amidst  the  heavenly  choir  ;  every  one  full  of  joy  and 
piaise.  He  would  expect  to  find  us  living  on  earth,  as  the 
inhabitants  of  heaven,  as  so  many  pieces  of  immortal 
glory  lately  dropped  down  from  above,  and  shortly  again 
returning  thither.  He  would  look  to  find,  everywhere  in 
the  Christian  world,  incarnate  glory  sparkling  through  the 
over-shadowing  veil ;  and  wonder  how  this  earthly  sphere 
should  be  able  to  contain  so  many  great  souls.  But  when 
he  draws  nearer  to  us,  and  observes  the  course  and  carriage 
of  our  lives,  when  he  sees  us  walk  as  other  men,  and  con- 
siders the  strange  disagreement  of  our  daily  conversation 
lo  our  so  great,  avowed  hopes,  and  how  little  sense  of  joy 
and  pleasure  we  discover  ourselves  to  conceive  in  them; 
would  he  not  be  ready  to  say,  "  Sure  some  or  other  (will- 
ing only  to  amuse  the  world  with  the  noise  of  strange 
things)  have  composed  a  religion  for  these  men,  which  they 
themselves  understand  nothing  of.  If  they  do  adopt  and 
own  it  for  theirs,  they  understand  not  their  own  pretences; 
they  are  taught  to  speak  some  big  words,  or  to  give  a  faint 
or  seeming  assent  to  such  as  speak  them  in  their  names, 
but  'tis  impossible  they  should  be  in  good  earnest,  or  be- 
lieve themselves  in  what  they  say  and  profess."  And  what 
reply  then  should  we  be  able  to  make  1  For  who  can  think 
that  any  who  acknowledge  a  God,  and  understand  at  all 
what  that  name  imports,  should  value  at  so  Ioav  a  rate,  as 
we  (visibly)  do,  the  eternal  fruition  of  his  glory,  and  a  pre- 
sent sonship  to  him,  the  pledge  of  so  great  a  hope.  He  that 
is  born  heir  to  great  honours  and  possessions,  though  he 
be  upon  great  uncertainties  as  to  the  enjoyment  of  them, 
(for  how  many  interveniences  may  prevent  him  !)  yet 
when  he  come  to  understand  his  possibilities  and  expec- 
tancies, how  big  doth  he  look  and  speak  !  Avhat  grandeur 
doth  he  put  on !  His  hopes  form  his  spirit  and  deportment. 
But  is  it  proportionably  so  with  us  1  Do  our  hopes  fill  our 
hearts  with  joy,  our  mouths  with  praise,  and  clothe  our 
faces  with  a  cheerful  aspect,  and  make  a  holy  alacrity  ap- 
pear in  all  our  conversations'? 

But  let  not  the  design  of  this  discourse  be  mistaken.  'Tis 
not  a  presumptuous  confidence  I  would  encourage,  nor  a 
vain  ostentation,  nor  a  disdainful  over-looking  of  others 
whom  we  fancy  ourselves  to  excel.  Such  things  hold  no 
proportion  with  a  Christian  spirit.  His  is  a  modest,  hum- 
h\e  exultation  ;  a  serious,  severe  joy  ;  suitable  to  his  solid, 
stable  hope.  His  spirit  is  not  pufled  up  and  swollen  with 
air,  it  is  not  big  by  an  inflation,  or  a  light  and  windy  tu- 
mour, but  'tis  really  filled  with  effectual  pre-apprehensions 
of  a  weighty  glory.  His  joy  accordingly  exerts  itself  with 
a  steady,  lively  vigour,  equally  removed  from  vain  light- 
ness ami  stupidity,  from  conceitedness,  and  insensiblencss 
of  his  blessed  state.  He  forgets  not  that  he  is  less  than  the 
least  of  God's  mercies,  but  disowns  not  his  title  to  the 
greatest  of  them.  He  abases  himself  to  the  dust,  in  the 
sense  of  his  own  vileness;  but  in  the  admiration  of  Divine 
grace,  he  rises  as  high  as  heaven.  In  his  humiliation  he 
affects  to  equal  himself  with  worms,  in  his  joy  and  praise, 
M'ith  angels.  He  is  never  unwilling  to  diminish  himself, 
but  afraul  of  detracting  anything  from  the  love  of  God,  or 
the  issues  of  that  Jove.  But  most  of  all  he  magnifies  (as 
he  hath  cause)  this  its  last  and  mo.st  perfect  issue.  And 
by  how  much  he  apprehends  his  own  unworthiness,  he  is 
the  more  wrapt  up  into  a  wonderful  joy,  that  such  bless- 
edness should  be  his  designed  portion.  But  now,  how  lit- 
tle do  we  find  in  ourselves  of  this  blessed  frame  of  spirit ! 
How  remote  are  we  from  it !  Let  us  but  inquire  a  little 
into  our  own  souls  :  are  there  not  too  apparent  .symptoms 
with  us  of  the  little  joy  we  take  in  the  fore-thoughts  of  fu- 
ture blessedness?     For, 

First,  How  few  thoughts  have  we  of  it !  What  anj'-  delight 
in,  they  remember  often.  'Tis  said  of  the  same  person, 
that  "his  delight  is  in  the  law  of  the  Lord,  and  that  in  his 
law  he  doth  meditate  day  and  night.  And  when  the 
Psalmist  professes  his  own  delight  in  God's  statutes,  he 
adds,  P  I  will  not  forget  thy  word.  Should  we  not  be  as 
unapt  to  forget  heaven,  if  our  delight  were  there  '?  But  do 
not  days  pass  with  us,  wherein  we  can  allow  ourselves  no 
leisure  to  mind  the  eternal  glory;  when  yet  vanities  throng 
in  upon  us,  without  any  obstruction  or  check?  And  (what 
is  consequent  hereupon)  how  seldom  is  this  blessed  state 
the  subject  of  our  discourse !  How  oAen  do  Christians 
p  PsaL  cxu.  16. 


Chap.  XIX. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


261 


meet,  and  not  a  word  of  heaven  !  O  heavy,  carna)  hearts  ! 
Our  home  and  eternal  blessedness  in  this,  appears  to  be 
forgotten  among  us.  How  often  may  a  person  converse 
with  us,  ere  he  understood  our  relation  to  the  heavenly 
country !  If  exiles  meet  in  a  foreign  land,  what  pleasant 
discourse  have  they  of  home  !  They  suffer  not  one  ano- 
ther to  forget  it.  Such  was  their  remembrance  of  Sion, 
who  sat  together  bemoaning  themselves  by  the  rivers  of 
Babylon,  a  making  mention  of  it,  as  the  phrase  is  often 
used.  And  methinks  (even  as  to  this  remembrance)  it 
should  be  our  own  common  resolution  too;  If  we  forget 
thee,  O  Jerusalem  ;  if  we  forget  to  make  mention  of  thee, 
O  thou  city  of  the  luang  God  ;  let  our  right  hand  forget 
her  cunning ;  our  tongue  shall  sooner  cleave  to  the  roof 
of  our  mouth :  and  so  it  would  be,  did  we  prefer  that  hea- 
venly Jerusalem  above  our  chief  joy. 

Again,  How  little  doth  it  weigh  with  us!  It  serves  not 
to  outweigh  the  smallest  trouble;  if  we  have  not  our  car- 
nal desire  in  every  thing  gratified,  if  any  thing  fall  out 
cross  to  our  inclinations,  this  glory  goes  for  nothing  with 
us.  Our  discontents  swallow  up  our  hopes  and  joys  ;  and 
heaven  is  reckoned  as  a  thing  of  nought.  If  when  outward 
troubles  afflict  or  threaten  us,  we  could  have  the  certain 
prospect  of  better  days,  that  would  sensibly  revive  and 
please  us.  Yea,  can  we  not  please  ourselves  with  very 
uncertain  groundless  hopes  of  this  kind,  without  promise 
or  valuable  reason  1  But  to  be  told  of  a  recompense  at 
the  resurrection  of  the  just,  of  a  day  when  we  shall  see  the 
face  of  God,  and  be  satisfied  M-ith  his  likeness ;  this  is  in- 
sipid and  without  savor  to  us,  and  affords  us  but  cold  com- 
fort. The  imcertain  things  of  time  signify  more  with  us 
than  the  certain  things  of  eternity.  Can  we  think  'tis  all 
this  while  well  with  us  1  Can  we  think  this  a  tolerable 
evil,  or  suffer  with  patience  such  a  distemper  of  spirit  1 
Methinks  it  should  make  us  even  weary  of  ourselves,  and 
solicitous  for  an  effectual,  speedy  redress. 

The  redress  must  be  more  in  our  own  doing  (striving 
with  our  souls  and  with  God  for  them)  than  in  what  any 
man  can  say.  Most  of  the  considerations  under  that  fore- 
going rule;  are  with  little  variation  applicable  to  this  pre- 
sent purpose.  I  shall  here  annex  only  some  few  subordi- 
nate directions;  which  may  lead  us  into  this  blessed  state 
of  life,  and  give  us  some  joyful  foretastes  of  the  future 
blessedness,  according  as  our  spirits  shall  comply  with 
them.  But  expect  not  to  be  cured  by  prescriptions,  with- 
out using  them  ;  or  that  heavenly  joy  can  be  the  creature 
of  mortal,  unregarded  breath  ;  we  can  only  prescribe 
means  and  methods  through  which  God  maybe  pleased  to 
descend,  and  in  which  thou  art  diligently  to  insist  and 
wait.  And  because  I  cannot  well  suppose  thee  ignorant, 
where  much  is  said  to  this  purpose,  I  shall  therefore  say 
little. 

1.  Possess  thy  soul  with  the  apprehension,  that  thou  art 
not  at  liberty  in  this  matter;  but  that  there  is  a  certain 
spiritual  delectation,  which  is  incumbent  on  thee  as  indis- 
pensable duty.  Some,  whose  morose  tempers  do  more 
estrange  them  from  delights,  think  themselves  more  espe- 
cially concerned,  to  banish  every  thing  of  that  kind  from 
their  religion,  and  fancy  it  only  to  consist  in  sour  and 
righteous  severities.  Others  seem  to  think  it  arbitrary  and 
indifferent;  or  that,  if  they  live  in  a  continual  sadness  and 
dejection  of  spirit,  'tis  only  their  infelicity,  not  their  fault ; 
and  apprehend  not  the  obligation  that  is  upon  them  by  a 
divine  law,  otherwise  to  manage  and  order  their  spirits. 
But  what  then,  are  such  words  thought  to  be  spoken  at 
random :  Her  i  ways  are  ways  of  pleasantness  ;  The  Lord 
is  the  portion  of  mine  inheritance  :  The  lines  are  fallen  to 
me  in  pleasant  places,  (or,  in  the  midst  of  pleasantness,  as 
the  expression  hath  been  noted  to  signify:)  Do  such  pre- 
cepts carry  no  sense  with  them  1  '  Delight  thyself  in  the 
Lord  :  Rejoice  in  the  Lord  alwa3's,  and  again  I  say,  re- 
joice;  with  many  more"?  Do  all  passages  of  this  kind  in 
Scripture  stand  for  ciphers,  or  were  they  put  in  them  by 
chance  7  Is  there  sucii  a  thing  as  an  aptitude  to  delecta- 
tion in  our  natures  ;  and  doth  the  sanctification  thereof  en- 
title the  joy  of  saints  to  a  place  among  the  fruits  of  the 
Spirit ;  « and  yet  is  the  exercise  of  it  to  have  no  place  in 
their  hearts  and  practice  ?  Do  not  think  you  are  permitted 


q  Prov.  iii.  17. 
s  Gal.  V.  22. 


21 


r  Psal.  x.\x\Ti.  4. 
t  1  John  i.  4. 


Pliil.  iv.  4. 

u  2  Cor.  iv 


SO  to  extinguish  or  frastrate  so  considerable  a  principle  of 
the  divine  life.  Know,  that  the  due  exercise  of  it  is  a  part 
of  the  order  and  discipline  of  God's  family :  that  it  is  a 
constitution  of  the  Divine  goodness  and  wisdom  both  to 
cherish  his  own,  and  invite  in  strangers  to  him  :  yea,  that 
is  the  scope  and  aim  of  the  whole  gospel  revelation,  that 
what  is  discovert;d  to  us  of  the  word  of  life,  wa.s  purposely 
written  to  draw  souls  into  fellowship  with  the  Father  and 
the  Son,  that  their  joy  might  be  full:  'that  the  ministers 
of  this  go.spel  are  therefore  styled  the  "  helpers  of  tiieir  joy. 
Therefore,  though  here  it  be  not  required  nor  allowed,  that 
you  should  indulge  a  vain,  trifling  levity,  or  a  sensual  joy, 
or  that  you  should  rejoice  )-ou  know  not  why,  (imitating 
the  laughter  of  a  fool,)  or  inopportunely,  when  your  state 
admits  it  not,  or  when  the  Lord  calls  to  mourning ;  yet 
settle  however  this  persuasion  in  your  hearts,  that  the  se- 
rious, rational,  regular,  seasonable  exercise  of  delight  and 
joy  is  matter  of  duty,  to  be  charged  upon  conscience,  from 
the  authority  of  God ;  and  is  an  integral  part  in  the  reli- 
gion of  Christians.  And  then  sure  )'ou  will  not  think  any 
obj(^ct  more  proper  and  suitable  for  it  to  be  exercised  upon, 
than  the  foreseen  state  of  blessedness,  which  is  in  itself  a* 
fulness  of  joy  ;  the  joy  of  our  Lord.  And  is,  in  the  pre- 
apprehensionsof  it,  a  more  considerable  matter  of  joy  than 
our  present  state  affords  us  besides  ;  and  without  relation 
whereto  we  have  no  rational  joy  at  all. 

2.  Keep  faith  in  exercise;  both  in  that  act  of  it  which 
persuades  the  soul  of  the  truth  of  the  gospel  revelation, 
and  that  act  of  it  which  unites  it  to  God  through  the  Me- 
diator. The  apostle  prays  on  the  behalf  of  his  Roman 
Christians,  that  they  might  be  y  filled  with  joy  and  peace 
in  believing;  and  we  are  told,  how  efiectually  (as  to  this) 
it  supplied  the  place  of  sight.  Such  as  had  not  seen 
Christ,  (which  was  the  privilege  of  many  other  Christians 
of  that  time,)  yet  ^  believing,  did  rejoice  with  joy  unspeak- 
able and  glorious.  Faith  directly  tends,  in  that  double 
office  before  mentioned,  to  excite  and  foment  this  joy. 
As  it  assents  to  the  truth  of  the  gospel  revelation,  it 
realizes  the  object,  is  the  substance  and  evidence  of  the 
invisible  glory."  As  it  unites  the  soul  wuh  God  through 
Chri.st,  in  a  fiducial  and  obediential  closure,  it  ascertains 
our  interest  therein,  and  is  our  actual  acceptance  of  our 
blessedness  itself;  for  when  we  take  God  through  Christ 
to  be  our  God,  what  is  it,  but  to  accept  him  as  our  eter- 
nal and  satisfying  portion,  whom  we  are  after  fully  to  en- 
joy, in  the  vision  and  participation  of  his  glorious  excel- 
lencies and  infinite  fulness  1  Which  two  acts  of  faith  we 
have  mentioned  together  in  one  text, — the)'  were  per- 
suaded of  the  promises,  and  embraced  them;  the  former 
respecting  the  truth  of  the  promises,  the  latter  the  good- 
ness of  the  thin?  proniised.  And  hereupon  they  confessed 
themselves  (as  it  follows)  pilgrims  and  strangers  on  earth; 
which  abdication  of  the  earth,  as  none  of  their  counir)--, 
could  not  be,  but  that  through  their  faith  they  had  a  joy- 
ous pre-apprehension  of  that  betterstate.  That  confession 
did  manifestly  involve  in  it  a  lively  joy,  springing  from 
the  sight  and  embrace  of  that  more  taking,  distant  good, 
which  the  promise  presented  them  with  ;  whence  they 
could  not  think  it  enough,  to  be  such  to  themselves  iii 
their  own  thoughts  and  the  temper  of  their  minds;  but 
they  cannot  forbear  (so  overcomins:  were  their  sights  and 
tastes)  to  give  it  out,  to  speak,  and  look,  and  live,  as  those 
that  were  carried  up  in  their  spirits  above  this  earth,  and 
who  did  even  disdain  to  own  themselves  in  any  other  re- 
lation to  it  than  that  of  foreigners  and  strangers. 

Set  thy  faith  on  work,  soul,  and  keep  it  a-work,  and 
thou  wilt  hnd  this  no  riddle;  it  will  be  so  with  thee  too. 
We  have  much  talk  of  faith  among  us,  and  have  the  name 
often  in  our  mouths,  but  how  few  are  the  real  lively  be- 
lievers !  Is  it  to  be  thought  that  such  blessedness  should 
not  more  aflect  our  hearts  1  nay,  would  it  not  ravish  away 
our  very  souls,  did  we  thoroughly  believe  it  1  And  were 
it  our  present  daily  work,  to  renew  the  bonds  of  a  vital 
union  with  the  blessed  God,  in  whom  we  expect  to  be 
blessed  for  ever,  could  that  be  without  previous  gusts  of 
pleasure?  'Tis  not  talking  of  faith,  but  living  by  it,  that 
will  give  us  the  experience  of  heavenlv  delights  and  jo}'^. 

3.  Take  heed  of  going   in  thy  practice  against  thy 


X  Psal.  x\i.    Matt.  xxv. 
z  1  Pet.  i.  8. 


y  Rom.  XV.  13. 
a  Heb.  xi.  1- 


262 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OP  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


Chap.   XX. 


light ;  of  persisting  in  a  course  of  known  or  suspecteJ  sin, 
that  states  thee  in  a  direct  hostility  and  rebellion  against 
heaven,  and  can  never  siitfer  thee  to  think  of  eternity  and 
the  other  world  with  comfort ;  will  fill  thy  mind  with 
frightful  apprehensions -of  God,  render  the  sight  of  his 
face  the  most  terrible  thing  to  thy  thoughts  thou  canst 
imagine,  and  satisfaction  with  his  likeness  the  most  im- 
possible thing.  Let  a  good  understanding  and  correspond- 
ence be  continued  between  God  and  thee,  (which  is  not 
possible,  if  ihoa  disobeyest  the  dictates  of  thy  conscience, 
and  takest  the  liberty  to  do  what  thou  judgest  God  hath 
forbidden  thee,)  that  this  may  be  ttiy  rejoicing, b  the  testi- 
mony of  a  good  conscience ;  that  in  simplicity  and  godly 
sincerity,  not  according  to  fleshly  wisdom,  but  the 
grace  of  God,  thou  hast  had  thy  conversation.  Take  God 
for  a  witness  of  thy  ways  and  walkings ;  approve  thyself 
to  his  jealous  eye  ;  study  lo  carry  thyself  acceptably  to- 
wards him,  and  unto  all  well  pleasing.  Let  that  be  thy 
ambition,  to  stand  right  in  his  thoughts,  to  appear  gracious 
in  his  eyes.  Hold  fast  thine  integrity,  that  thy  heart  may 
not  reproach  thee  as  long  as  thou  livest.  If  iniquity  be  in 
thy  hand,  put  it  away ;  then  shalt  thou  lift  up  thy  face 
without  spot  and  without  fear.  Be  a  faithful  subject  of 
that  kingdom  of  God,  (and  here  conscience  rules  under 
him,)  which  consists  first  in  righteousness,  and  then  in 
peace  and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost.  Thou  wilt,  so,  daily 
behold  the  face  of  God  in  righteousness  and  with  pleasure ; 
but  wilt  most  of  all  please  thyself  to  think  of  thy  final 
appearance  before  him,  and  the  blessedness  that  shall 
ensue. 

4.  Watch  and  arm  thyself  against  the  too  forcible 
strokes  and  impressions  of  sensible  objects.  Let  not  the 
savour  of  such  low  vile  things  corrupt  the  palate  of  thy 
soul.  A  sensual  earthly  mind  and  heart  cannot  taste 
heavenly  delights ;  they  that  are  after  the  flesh  do  savour 
the  thmg-s  of  the  flesh;  they  that  are  after  the  Spirit,  the 
things  of  the  Spirit.  Labour  to  be  thoroughly  mortified  '■ 
towards  this  world  and  the  present  state  of  things.  Look 
upon  this  scene  and  pageant  d  as  passing  away ;  keep  na- 
tural appetites  under  restraint,  (the  world  and  the  lusts  of 
it  pass  away  together,)  sensuality  is  an  impure  thing. 
Heavenly  refined  joy  cannot  live  amidst  so  much  filth. 
Yea,  and  if  thou  give  thy  flesh  liberty  too  far  in  things 
that  are  (in  specie)  lawful,  it  will  soon  get  advantage  to 
domineer  and  keep  thy  soul  in  a  depres^sing  servitude. 
Abridge  it  then,  and  cut  it  short,  that  thy  mind  may  be 
enlarged  and  at  liberty,  may  not  be  thronged  and  prepos- 
sessed with  carnal  imaginations  and  aflections.  ^  "  Let 
thy  soul"  (if  thou  wilt  take  this  instruction  from  a  heathen) 
"  look  with  a  constant  erect  mind  into  the  undefiled  light, 
neither  darkened  nor  borne  down  towards  the  earth  ;  but 
stopping  its  ears,  and  turning  its  eyes,  and  all  other  senses 
back  upon  itself;  and  quite  abolishing  out  of  itself  all 
earthly  sighs,  and  groans,  and  pleasures,  and  glories,  and 
honours,  and  disgrace ;  and  having  forsaken  all  these, 
choose  for  the  guides  of  its  way,  true  reason  and  strong 
love,  the  one  whereof  will  show  it  the  way,  the  other 
make  it  easy  and  pleasant." 

5.  Having  voided  thy  mind  of  what  is  earthly  and  car- 
nal, apply  and  turn  it  to  this  blessed  theme.  The  most 
excellent  and  the  vil(•^t  objects  are  alike  to  thee,  while 
thou  mindest  them  not.  Thy  thoughts  possibly  bring  thee 
in  nothing  but  vexation  and  trouble,  which  would  bring 
in  as  soon  joy  and  pleasure,  didst  thou  turn  them  to  proper 
objects.  A  thought  of  the  heavenly  glory  is  as  soon  thought 
as  of  an  earthly  cross.  We  complain  the  w«  Id  troubles 
us  ;  then  what  do  we  there  1  Why  get  we  not  up,  in  our 
spirits,  into  the  quieter  region  1  What  trouble  would  the 
thoughts  of  future  glory  be  to  us  1  How  are  thoughts  and 
wits  set  on  v/ork  for  this  flesh!  BiU  we  would  have  our 
souls  flourish  as  the  lilies,  without  any  thing  of  their  own 
care.  Yea,  we  make  them  toil  for  torture,  and  not  for 
joy,  revolve  an  affliction  a  thousand  times  before  and  after 
it  comes,  and  have  never  done  with  it,  when  eternal  bless- 
edness gains  not  a  thought. 

6.  Plead  earnestly  with  God  for  his  Spirit.  This  is 
joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost ;  or  whereof  he  is  the  author. 
Many  Christians  (as  they  must  be  called)  are  such  stran- 


b  2  Cor.  i.  12.  c  1  Cor.  tii.  31, 

e  Max,  TjT.  in  Duseit  n  o  dcoi  Kara  nXarcovof. 


d  I  John  ii   17. 


gers  to  this  work  of  imploring  and  calling  in  the  blessed 
Spirit,  as  if  they  were  capable  of  adopting  these  words, 
We  have  not  so  much  as  heard  whether  there  be  a  Holy 
Ghost.  That  name  is  with  them  as  an  empty  sound. 
How  hardly  are  we  convinced  of  our  necessary  depend- 
ance  on  that  free  Spirit,  as  to  all  our  truly  spiritual  opera- 
tions! The  Spirit  is  the  very  earnest  of  our  inheritance. 
The  foretastes  and  first-fruits  we  have  here  of  the  future 
blessedness,  the  joy  and  pleasure, the  complacential  relishes 
we  have  of  it  beforehand,  are  by  the  gracious  vouchsafe- 
ment  and  work  of  this  blessed  Spirit.  The  things  that  eye 
hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  and  which  have  not  entered 
into  the  heart  of  man,  are  revealed  by  this  Spirit. 
Thereforp  doth  the  apostle  direct  his  prayer  on  the  behalf 
of  the  Ephesians,  to  the  Father  of  this  glory,f  that  he 
would  give  them  this  Spirit  of  wisdom  and  revelation, — 
to  enlighten  the  eyes  of  their  undeistanding,  that  they 
might  know  the  hope  of  his  calling,  and  the  riches  of  the 
glory  of  his  inheritance  in  (or  among)  the  saints.  And 
its  revelation  is  such  as  begets  an  impression ;  in  respect 
whereof,  'tis  said  also,  to  seal  up  to  the  day  of  redemption. 
Therefore,  pray  earnestly  for  this  Spirit ;  not  in  idle, 
dreaming  words  of  course,  but  as  being  really  apprehen- 
sive of  the  necessity  of  prevailing ;  and  give  not  over  till 
ihou  find  that  sacred  fire  diffusing  itself  through  thy  mind 
and  heart,  to  enlighten  the  one  and  refine  the  other,  and 
so  prepossess  both  of  this  glory,  thot  thy  soul  may  be  all 
turned  into  joy  and  praise.  And  then  let  me  add  here, 
(without  the  formality  of  a  distinct  head,)  that  it  concerns 
thee  to  lake  heed  of  quenching  that  Spirit,  by  either  resist- 
ing or  neglecting  its  holy  dictates,  or,  as  the  same  precept 
is  otherwise  given,  of  grieving  the  Spirit  :  he  is  by  name 
and  ofllce  the  Comforter.  The  primitive  Christians,  'tis 
said,  walked  in  the  fear  of  God,  and  in  the  comfort  of  the 
Holy  Ghost.  Is  it  equal  dealing,  to  grieve  him  whose 
business  it  is  to  comfort  thee  1  Or  canst  thou  expect  joy 
where  thou  causest  grief?  AValk  in  the  Spirit:  adore  its 
power.  Let  thy  soul  doit  homage  within  thee.  Wait  for 
its  holy  influences,  and  yield  thyself  to  its  ducture  and 
guidance;  so  wilt  thou  go  as  the  redeemed  of  the  Lord, 
with  everlasting  joy  upon  thy  head,  till  thou  enter  that 
pre-ence  where  is  fulness  of  joy,  and  pleasures  for  ever- 
more. 

Nor  do  thou  think  it  improper  or  strange,  that  thou 
shouldst  be  called  upon  to  rejoice  in  what  thou  dost  not 
yet  possess.  Thy  hope  is  instead  of  fruition  ;  'tis  an  an- 
ticipated enjoyment.  We  are  commanded  to?  rejoice  in 
hope;  and  saints  have  professed  to  do  so,  toh  rejoice  even 
in  the  hope  of  the  glory  of  God.  Nor  is  it  unreasonable 
that  should  be  thy  present  highest  joy.  For  though  yet  it 
be  a  distant  thing,  and  distinctly  revealed,  the  excellency 
of  the  object  makes  compensation  for  both,  with  an  abun- 
dant surplusage.  As  any  one  would  much  more  rejoice 
to  be  assured  by  a  great  person  of  ample  possessions  he 
would  make  him  his  heir  to,  (though  he  knew  not  distinct- 
ly what  they  should  be,)  than  to  see  a  shilling  already  Ms 
own,  with  his  own  eyes. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

Tlie  aditilion  of  two  niJes.  ttiat  more  specially  respect  the  yet  future  season  of 
this  blessedness,  after  this  life  ;  viz.,  Rule  7.  That  we  patiently  wait  for  it 
until  death.    Rule  8.  That  we  love  not  too  much  this  present  life. 

There  are  yet  two  more  rules  to  be  superadded,  that 
respect  the  season  of  this  blessedness, — when  we  awake, — 
i.  e.  not  till  we  go  out  of  time  into  eternity,  not  till  we 
pass  out  of  the  drowsy  darkness  of  our  present  state,  till 
the  night  be  over  with  us,  and  the  vigorous  light  of  the 
everlasting  day  do  shine  upon  us.  Hence  therefore  it  will 
be  further  necessary, 

Rule  7.  That  while  the  appointed  proper  season  of  this 
blessedness  is  not  yet  come,  (i.  e.  till  God  shall  vouchsafe 
to  translate  us  from  our  present  earthly  state,)  we  compose 
our  spirits  to  a  patient  expectation  of  it.  Upon  a  twofold 
account,  the  exercise  of  patience  is  very  requisite  in  the 


f  Eph.  i. 


g  Rom.  rii.  12. 


h  Rom.  V.  S. 


Chap.  XX. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OP  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


263 


present  case,  viz.  both  in  respect  of  this  very  expectation 
Itself,  and  also  in  respect  of  the  concomitant  miseries  of 
this  expecting  state,  la  ihe  forjticr  respect,  an  absent  good 
is  the  matter  o{  our  patience;  in  the  latter,  present,  and  incum- 
bent evil.  It  fails  more  directh'  in  our  way,  to  speak  to  the 
exercise  of  patience  upon  the  former  account,  yet  as  to  the 
latter,  (though  it  be  more  collateral  as  to  our  present 
purpose,)  it  cannot  be  unseasonable  briefly  to  consider 
that  also. 

First,  therefore,  The  very  expectation  itself  of  this  bless- 
edness, renders  patience  very  requisite  to  our  present 
state.  Patience  hath  as  proper  and  necessary  an  exercise 
in  expecting  the  good  we  want  and  desire,  as  in  enduring 
the  evil  that  is  actually  upon  us.  The  direction,  (it  must 
be  remembered,)  intends  such  only  as  apprehend  and  de- 
sire this  blessedness  as  their  greatest  good,  whose  souls 
are  transported  with  earnest  longings  fully  to  enjoy  what 
they  have  foretasted.  I  am  apprehensive  enough,  that 
others  need  it  not.  There  is  no  use  of  patience  in  expect- 
ing what  we  desire  not.  But  as  to  those  who  desire  it 
most,  and  who  therefore  are  most  concerned  in  this  ad- 
vice, it  may  possiblj"^  become  a  doubt,  how  since  there  is 
sin  in  our  present  ignorance  of  God  and  unlikeness  to 
him,  this  can  be  ihe  matter  of  any  patience.  We  must 
therefore  know,  that  as  our  knowledge  of  God,  and  con 
formity  to  him,  are  both  our  duty  and  blessedness,  the  mat- 
ter both  of  our  endeavour  and  of  God's  vouchsafement ; 
so  our  ignorance  of  him,  and  unlikeness  to  him,  are  both 
our  sin  and  our  misery;  which  misery,  though  God  hath 
graciously  removed  it  in  part,  yet  also  he  continues  it  up- 
on us  in  part",  (as  our  sad  experience  tells  us,)  by  his  just 
and  wise  dispensation,  which  we  cannot  except  against. 
Now  therefore,  looking  upon  the  defect  of  our  knowledge 
of  God  and  likeness  to  him,  under  the  former  noti'jn, 
though  we  are  to  reflect  upon  ourselves  with  great  displea- 
sure and  indignation ;  yet  looking  on  them  in  the  latter 
notion,  we  are  to  submit  to  the  righteous  dispensation  of 
God  with  a  meek,  unrepining  patience.  By  this  patience, 
therefore,  I  mean  not  a  stupid  succumbency  under  the  re- 
maining disease  and  distemper  of  our  spirits,  in  this  our 
present  state  ;  a  senseless  indiflerency  and  oscitant  cessa- 
tion from  continual  endeavours  of  further  redress;  but  a 
silent  and  submissive  veneration  of  Divine  wisdom,  and 
justice,  and  goodness,  that  are  sweetly  complicated  in  this 
procedure  with  us,  with  a  quiet,  peaceful  expectation  of 
the  blessed  issue  of  it.  This  being  premised,  I  shall  briefly 
show, — that  we  have  need  of  patience,  and — that  we  have 
reason  for  it  in  this  present  case. 

I.  That  we  have  need  of  it,  (supposing  our  souls  are  in- 
tent upon  glory,  that  we  are  in  earnest  in  this  pursuit,) 
will  appear  upon  sundry  accounts. 

First,  The  greatness  of  the  thing  we  expect.  To  be- 
hold the  face  of  God,  to  be  satisfied  with  his  likeness. 
What  serious  heart,  apprehensive  of  its  own  concerns, 
can  without  much  patience,  hold  out  under  such  an  ex- 
pectation 1  How  do  lovers  that  expect  the  marriage-da)^, 
tell  the  hours,  and  chide  the  sun  that  it  makes  no  more 
haste!  But  how  can  that  soul  contain  itself,  that  expects 
the  most  intimate  fruition  of  the  Lord  of  glory. 

Again,  consider  the  continual  representation  and  fre- 
quent inculcations  of  this  glory.  Its  vigorous,  powerful 
beams  are,  by  often  repeated  pulsations,  continually  beat- 
ing upon  such  souls  as  are  intent  towards  it.  Life  and 
immortality  are  brought  to  light  in  the  Gospel ;  and  they 
are  obliged  by  command  and  inclijiation  to  attend  its  dis- 
coveries. The  eye  that  's  once  smitten,  looks  again  and 
again, 'tis  not  satisfied  with  seeing;  and  every  renewed 
look  meets  with  still  fresh  rays  of  glory ;  thej''  have  fre- 
quent foretastes  and  prelibaiions,  which  still  give  life  to 
new  desires.  To  lie  under  the  direct  stroke  of  the  powers 
of  the  world  to  come,  this  requires  mttch  patience,  to  sus- 
tain the  burden  of  such  an  expectation.  Life  itself  were 
otherwise  a  bitter  and  a  wearisome  thing.  *  And  the  want 
of  such  foretastes,  (for  alas  they  are  not  constant,)  makes 
desire  sometimes  more  restless,  and  expectation  moie  bit- 
ter and  grievous. 

a  Canerem  tibi  angelica  voce  thmnomm  ;  qimm  mirifica,  semper  in  patria 
dulcedine  repleamur ;  nisi  vercrer,  ne  forte,  ponlhac.  lantaa dulcedinis  hujus  cum- 
paralione,  Iota  tibi  in  terria  \-ita  non  Fgoliimamarisaima,  verumetiam  amaiitudo 
ipso  penitus  videatur.    M.  Ficin.  Epist. 


Moreover,  Consider  the  nature  and  spring  of  these  de- 
sires, that  work  in  heavenly  souls  towards  this  glcrj'.  They 
are  of  a  divine  nature  and  original  ;  he  that  hath  wrought 
us  to  this  self-same  thing  is  God,  2  Cor.  v.  5.  Observe  the 
tenor  of  this  proposition;  God  is  not  the  subject  of  pre- 
dication, but  the  predicate.  The  action  is  not  predicated 
of  God,  a-s  it  would  in  this  form  of  words,  God  hath 
wrought  us,  &c.  but  God  is  predicated  of  this  agent,  q.  d. 
this  is  the  work  of  a  Deity ;  none  but  God  could  be  the  au- 
thor of  such  desires.  That  a  soul  .should  be  acted  towards 
glory  by  the  alone  power  of  an  almighty  hand!  here 
needs  a  divine  patience  to  .sustain  it,  and  make  it  strong 
and  able  to  endure  such  a  motion,  where  there  is  divine 
power  to  act  and  move  it  forward.  The  frame  could  aot 
hold  else,  it  must  dissolve.  The  apostle,  li  therefore,  pray- 
ing for  the  Thessalonians,  that  God  would  direct  their 
hearts  into  the  love  of  him.self,  (which  could  not  but  in- 
flame their  souls  with  a  desire  of  a  perfect  vision  and  en- 
joyment,) presently  adds,  and  into  the  patient  waiting  for 
of  Christ.  Where  we  cannot  by  the  way  but  reflect  upon 
the  admirable  constitution  and  equal  temper  of  the  new 
creature,  as  to  the  principles  that  are  ingredient  into  the 
composition  of  it,  fervent  desires  allayed  with  meek  sub- 
mission, mighty  love  with  strong  patience.  If  we  consi- 
der it  in  actu  signato,  or  in  its  abstract  idea,  this  is  its  tem- 
perament; and  of  these  there  is  a  gradual  participation, 
wherever  )'ou  find  it  actually  existing.  God  hath  other- 
wise formed  a  creature  (the  prime  of  his  creatures)  so  as 
by  its  most  intrinsical  constituent  principles  to  be  a  tor- 
ment to  itself 

Lastly,  The  tiresome  nature  of  expectation  in  itself,  is 
not  least  considerable.'  It  carries  ('tis  true)  pleasure  (if  it 
be  hoping  expectation)  wuth  it ;  but  not  without  a  great 
admixture  of  pain.  It  brings  a  kind  of  torture  to  the  mind, 
as  a  continued  exertion  or  stretching  forth  of  the  neck  (by 
which  it  is  expressed)  <■  doth  to  the  body.  Therefore  it  is 
most  significantly  said  b}'  the  wise  man,  <i  Hope  deferred 
makes  the  heart  sick.  All  these,  I  say,  together  discover 
the  truth  of  what  the  apostle  tells  us.  ^  We  have  need  of 
patience,  that  when  we,  &c.  we  may  inherit  the  promise. 

2.  And  as  we  have  need  of  it,  so  we  have  also  reason 
for  it  upon  many  accounts.  It  is  no  piece  of  rigorous  se- 
verity to  be  pitt  upon  the  exercise  of  some  patience,  to  be 
kept  awhile  in  a  waiting  posture  for  the  completion  of  this 
blessedness.     For, 

First,  The  thing  you  expect  is  sure.  You  have  not  to 
do  in  this  matter  with  one  who  is  inconstant,  or  likely  to 
change.  If  such  a  one  should  make  us  large  promises, 
we  should  have  some  cause  never  to  think  ourselves  se- 
cure, till  we  had  them  made  good  to  us.  But  since  we 
f  live  in  the  hope  of  eternal  life,  which  God  who  cannot 
lie,  and  who  we  =  know  is  faithful,  hath  promised,  we  may 
be  confident,  and  this  confidence  should  quiet  our  hearts. 
What  a  faithful  friend  keeps  for  us,  we  reckon  as  safe  in 
his  hands,  as  in  our  own.  He  that  believes  makes  not 
haste.  An  impatient  haste  argues  an  unbelieving  jealou- 
sy and  distrust.  Surely,  there  is  an  er.d,  and  thy  expecta- 
tion will  not  be  cut  ofli". 

And  then  'tis  a  happiness  that  •will  recompense  the  most 
wearisome  expectation.  'Twere  good  sometimes  to  con- 
sider with  ourselves,  what  is  the  object  of  our  hope  ?  are 
our  expectations  pitched  upon  a  valuable  good,  that  will 
be  worth  while  to  expect  1  So  the  Psalmist,  h  What  wait 
I  for  1  and  he  answrrs  himself.  My  hope  is  in  thee.  Sure 
then  that  hope  will  not  make  ashamed.  'Twere  a  con- 
founding thing  to  have  been  a  long  time  full  of  great  hopes 
that  at  last  dwindle  into  some  petite  trifle,  but  when  we 
know  beforehand  the  business  is  such  as  will  defray  itself, 
bear  its  own  charges,  who  would  not  be  contented  to 
wait! 

Nor  will  the  time  of  expectation  be  long — when  I  shall 
awake — when  he  shall  appear.  Put  it  to  the  longest  term,  it 
was  said,  sixteen  hundred  years  ago,  to  be  but  a  little  while : 
three  times  over  in  the  shutting  up  of  the  Bible,  he  tells  us,  I 
come  quicklv.  He  seems  to  foresee  he  should  be  something 
impatiently  expected :  and  at  last,  Surely  I  come  quickly, 


b  2  Thess.  iii.  5. 
d  Prov.  ra\.  12. 
f  Tit   i.  2. 
h  Psal.  .xxxix.  7. 


c  1  Rom.  viiL  19. 
e  Heb.  x  36. 
g  Heb.  X.  33. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OP  IHE  RIGHTEOUS. 


264 

p.  d.  What  will  you  not  believe  me  1  Be  patient,  saith  the 
apostle,  i  to  the  coming  of  the  Lord  :  and  presently  he 
adds,  be  patient,  slablish  your  hearts,  for  the  coming  ot 
the  Lord  draweth  nigh. 

Yea,  and  amidst  the  many  troubles  of  that  short  time  of 
expectation  many  present  comforts  are  intermixed.  Hea- 
ven is  open  to  us.  We  have  constant  liberty  of  access  to 
God.  He  disdains  not  our  present  converse.  We  may 
have  the  constant  pleasure  of  the  exercise  of  grace,  the 
heavenly  delights  of  meditation,  the  joy  of  the  public  so- 
lemnities of  worship,  the  communion  and  encouragement 
of  fellow-Christians,  the  light  of  that  countenance  where- 
of we  expect  the  eternal  vision,  the  comforts  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  the  continual-  prospect  of  glory  all  the  way  thither. 
What  cause  have  we  of  impatience  or  complaint  1 

Further,  Saints  of  all  ages  have  had  their  expecting 
time.  We  are  required  to  be  followers  of  them  who  through 
faith  and  patience  have  inherited  the  promises.  Our  Sa- 
viour himself  waited  a  life's  time  for  his  glorification.  I 
have  (saith  he)  glorified  thee  on  earth  ;  I  have  finished 
the  work  thou  gavest  me  to  do !  And  now.  Father,  glori- 
fy me  with  thine  own  self,  &c. 

And  while  we  are  waiting,  if  it  be  not  our  fault,  our 
glory  will  be  increasing.  We  may  be  glorifying  God  in 
the  meantime,  which  is  the  end  of  our  beings :  we  need 
not  live  here  to  no  purpose. 

Again,  we  were  well  enough  content,  till  God  more 
clearly  revealed  that  other  state,  to  live  always  as  we  do. 
'Tis  not  now  ingenious  to  be  impatiently  querulous  about 
the  time  of  our  entering  into  it.  'Tis  his  free  vouchsafe- 
ment;  we  never  merited  such  a  thing  at  his  hands.  'Tis 
not  commendable  among  men,  to  be  over  qtiick  in  exact- 
ing debts  even  where  there  was  an  antecedent  right,  much 
less  where  the  right  only  shall  accrue  by  promise,  not  yet 
sueable;  would  it  not  shame  us  to  have  God  say  to  us. 
Have  patience  with  me,  and  I  will  pay  you  all  1  And  our 
former  state  should  be  often  reflected  on.  If  you  had  pro- 
mised great  things  to  a  wretch  lately  taken  off  the  dung- 
hill, and  he  is  every  day  impatiently  urging  you  to  an  un- 
timely accomplishment,  would  you  not  check  his  over-bold 
haste,  by  minding  him  of  his  original  1  It  becomes  not 
base  and  low-born  persons  to  be  transported  with  a  prepos- 
terous, over-hasty  expectation  of  high  and  great  things. 
And  if  God  k  bear  with  the  sinfuhiess  of  our  present  state, 
is  it  not  reasonable  we  should  bear  with  the  infelicity  of  it 
to  his  appointed  timel  Besides  that,  we  should  much  in- 
jure ourselves  by  our  impatiency;  imbitter  our  present 
condition,  increase  our  own  burden,  dissipate  our  strength, 
retard  our  progress  towards  the  perfection  we  profess  to 
aim  at ;  for  patience  must  have  its  perfect  work,  that  we 
may  be  perfect. 

And  others,  that  have  had  as  clear  apprehensions  and 
vigorous  desires  (at  least)  of  the  future  state  of  glory  as  we 
can  with  modesty  pretend  to,  have  yet  herein  moderated 
themselves  so,  as  to  intend  their  present  work  with  com- 
posed spirits.  Take  that  one  instance  of  the  blessed  apos- 
tle, who,  whilst  in  this  earthly  tabernacle  he  groaned, 
being  burthened,  to  be  clothed  with  glory,  and  to  have 
mortality  swallowed  up  of  life,  being  sensible  enough,  that 
during  his  abode  or  presence  in  the  body,  he  was  absent 
from  the  Lord ;  yet  notwithstanding  the  fervour  and  vehe- 
mency  of  tJiese  longings,  with  the  greatest  calmness  and 
resignation  imaginable,  as  to  the  termination  or  continu- 
ance of  his  present  state,  he  adds,  that  though  he  had  ra- 
ther be  absent  from  the  body,  i  to  be  present  with  the  Lord, 
it  was  yet  his  chief  ambition,  (as  the  word  he  uses  signifies,) 
whetlier  present  or  absent,  (as  if  in  comparison  of  that,  to 
be  present  or  absent  were  indifl^erent,  though  otherwise, 
out  of  that  comparison,  he  had  told  us,  he  would  be  absent 
rather,)  to  be  ™  accepted,  to  appear  grateful  and  well- 
pleasing  in  the  eye  of  God ;  such  that  he  might  delight 
and  take  content  in,  as  his  expression  imports.  As  if  he 
had  said,  Though  I  am  not  apprehensive  of  the  state  of 
my  case,  I  know  well  I  am  kept  out  of  a  far  more  desira- 
ble condition,  while  I  remain  in  this  tabernacle  ;  yet,  may 
I  but  please  and  appear  acceptable  in  the  sight  of  God, 
whether  I  be  sooner  dismissed  from  this  thraldom,  or  long- 
er continued  in  it,  I  contend  not.     His  burden  here,  that 

i  Jam,  V.  k  Jam.  i.  1  2  Cor.  v.  8.  tpi^orijiovficda. 


Chap.  XX 


so  sensibly  pressed  him,  was  not  a  present  evil  so  much  as 
an  absent  good.  He  was  not  so  burthened  by  what  he  felt 
and  could  not  remove,  as  by  what  he  saw  and  could  not 
enjoy.  His  groans  accordingly  were  not  brutal,  as  those 
of  a  beasi  under  a  too  heavy  load ;  but  rational,  the  groans  of 
an  apprehensible  spirit  panting  after  an  alluring,  inviting 
glory,  which  he  had  got  the  prospect  of  but  could  not  yet 
attain.  And  hence  the  same  spiritual  reason  which  did 
exercise,  did  also,  at  once,  moderate  his  desires ;  so  that, 
as  he  saw  there  was  reason  to  desire,  so  he  saw  there  was 
reason  his  desires  should  be  allayed  by  a  submissive,  inge- 
nious patience,  till  they  might  have  a  due  and  seasonable 
accomplishment.  And  that  same  temper  of  mind  we  find 
in  him,  when  he  professes  to  be  in  a  »  strait  between  two, 
having  a  desire  to  be  dissolved,  and  to  be  with  Christ, 
which  he  thought  to  be  far  better,  and  yet  apprehended 
his  longer  abode  in  the  world  to  be  needful  for  the  service 
of  the  church ;  whereupon  he  expresses  his  confidence, 
that  he  should  abide  longer,  and  therein  discovers  how 
well  contented  he  was  it  should  be  so.  Therefore,  as  in 
reference  to  this  very  expectation  itself,  there  is  great  need 
of  patience  ;  so  the  exerci.se  of  it  in  this  case  hath  nothing 
harsh  or  unreasonable  in  it,  or  which  the  spirit  of  a  sain' 
may  not  well  comport  with. 

2.  And  for  the  exercise  of  patience  upon  the  latter  ac- 
count ;  the  concomitant  miseries  of  this  our  present  ex- 
pecting state  ;  I  need  not  insist  to  show  how  needful  it  is, 
this  being  that  which  our  own  sense  will  sufficiently  in- 
struct us  in.  We  are  not  to  expect  the  future  stateof  bless- 
edness in  a  state  of  present  ease  and  rest,  in  a  quiet,  friend- 
ly world,  in  a  calm  and  peaceful  region,  under  placid  and 
benign  influences  from  men  and  times ;  but  amidst  storms, 
and  tempests,  and  troubles  on  every  side,  under  frowns  and 
displeasure,  threats  and  dangers,  harsh  and  rough  severi- 
ties, ill  and  ungentle  usages,  flouts  and  scorns,  wrongs  and 
injurious  dealings,  wants  and  pressures  in  many  kinds. 
When  the  world  is  once  forsaken  by  us,  it  grows  angry ;  it 
we  disclaim  it,  and  avow  ourselves  not  to  be  of  it,  become 
confessed  strangers  and  pilgrims  in  it,  set  ourselves  se 
riously  and  visibly  to  mind  and  design  something  abovi^ 
and  beyond  it,  discover  ourselves  to  be  of  them  that  aro 
callL-d  out  of  it:  from  the  same  principle  that  it  loves  its 
ov/ti,  it  will  hate  us;  Vvhen  once  God  calls  us  his  sons, 
the  world  will  not  know  us."  We  see  in  this  context  we 
are  discoursing  from,  what  the  Psalmist's  condition  was, 
while  as  yet  he  remained  under  this  blessed  expectation ; 
he  found  the  men  of  time,  whose  portion  was  in  this  life, 
to  be  deadly  enemies,  wicked  oppressors,  proud  insulters ; 
they  were  to  him  as  greedy  lions,  as  a  blood-thirsty  sword. 
His  cries  to  be  delivered  from  them,  show  what  he 
met  with  at  their  hands,  or  thought  he  had  reason  to 
fear.  Nor  can  so  raging  enmity  and  hate  ever  cease 
to  meditate  mischiefs  and  cruelties.  The  same  principle 
still  remains  in  all  the  serpent's  brood,  and  will  still  be  put- 
ling  forth  itself  in  suitable  practices,  which  cannot  but  in- 
fer to  the  contrary  seed  continual  trouble  and  matter  of 
complaint. 

And,  in  short,  whatever  is  here  the  matter  of  your  com- 
plaint, ought  to  be  the  matter  of  y(  ur  patience.  Whence 
it  cannot  be  doubted  the  matter  of  it  will  be  very  copious; 
so  as  to  require  the  all  of  patience ;  (as  the  apostle  speaks ;) 
which  his  addressing  this  solemn  request  to  God  on  the 
behalf  of  these  Colossian  Christians  plainly  intimates. 
He  prays  that  p  they  may  be  strengthened  with  all  mi^ght 
according  to  the  glorious  power  of  God  unto  all  patience, 
«&c.  Patience  is  the  Christian's  sulferingpower,  'tis  passive 
fortitude,  an  ability  to  suffer:  and  so  apprehensive  he  is  of 
their  great  need  of  a  full  and  ample  supply  of  this  power, 
that  he  prays  that  they  might  be  strengthened  in  this  kind 
with  might,  with  all  might:  that  they  might  be  even  al- 
mighty sufl^erers  ;  strengthened  M'ith  a  might  according  and 
corresponding  to  the  gloriouspowers  of  God  himself ;  such 
as  might  appear  the  proper  impress  and  image  of  Divine 
power, "whereof  the  Divine  power  might  be  both  the  prin- 
ciple and  the  pattern  (for  the  patience  whereby  God  bears 
the  wrongs  done  to  him  is  called  the  power  too;  Let  the 
power  of  the  Lord  be  great  as  thou  hast  spoken,  saying. 
The  Lord  is  long  suffering,  forgiving,  &c.)  And  this  unto 


ul  craoCTOi. 


o  1  John  iii.  1. 


p  Col.  i.  11. 


Chap.  XX. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


CG5 


all  patience,  where  patience  is  put  for  an  act  of  this  power, 
or  must  be  understood  of  patience  in  exercise,  actual  bear- 
ing. Nor  are  we  to  look  upon  the  expressions  of  this 
prayer  as  so  many  hyperbolical  strains,  or  rhetorical 
schemes  of  speech.  He  prays  according  to  the  apprehen- 
sion he  had  of  the  necessity  of  suffering  Christians. 

And  yet  how  much  soever  the  need  is,  the  reason  is  not 
less,  'tis  a  thing  as  possible  as  it  is  necessary ;  yea,  there 
is  more  in  the  power  of  the  cause,  than  to  work  this  single 
effect.     I  mean  it  not  only  of  the  efficient  cause  mentioned 
before,  but  of  the  objective  or   final  (as  having  such  a 
superabundant  sufficiency  in  its  kind  also)  hinted  in  the 
close  of  the  following  verse.     He  doth  not  utter  vain  and 
groundless  wishes,  when  he  prays,  that  to  that  all  of  pa- 
tience they  might  add  joyfulness  too,  and  giving  of  thanks; 
no,  the  matter  (as  if  he  had  said)  will  bear  it,  even  the 
inheritance  of  the  saints  in  light,  the  very  expectation  ob- 
jective, I  am  speaking  of.     It  hath  enough  in  it  to  induce, 
not  only  patience,  but  joy,  not  a  contented  bearing  only, 
but  giving  of  thanks  too,  i  to  him  that  hath  made  you  meet 
for  that  inheritance.     True  it  is  indeed,  that  the  very  need 
we  have  of  patience,  and  the  gain  that  would  accrue  by  it, 
is  itself  a  reason,  why  we  should  labour  to  frame  our  spi- 
rits to  it:  for  if  such  evils  must  be  undergone,  how  much 
better  is  it  to  bear  them  alone,  than  to  have  the  disease  of 
a  wounded,  impatient  spirit  to  bear  also  as  an  additional 
burden.     The  law  of  patience  is  certainly  a  most  indul- 
gent, merciful  law,  a  gracious  provision  (as  much  as  can 
be  made  by  a  law)  for  the  quiet  and  ease  of  our  spirits, 
under  the   sharpest  and   most    aillictive   sufferings.     As 
might  at  large  be  shown,  were  it  suitable  to  fall  into  a  dis- 
course of  patience  in  itself  considered ;  and  to  treat  of 
that  rest  and  pleasure,  that  liberty  of  spirit,  that  possession 
and  dominion  of  one's  own  soul,  which  it  carries  in  it . 
but  that  were  too  much  a  digression.  It  only  falls  directly 
here  in  our  way  to  consider,  that  as  we  have  many  griev- 
ances and  pressures  to  undergo,  while  we  are  expecting 
the  future  blessedness,  which  render  the  exercise  of  pa- 
tience very  requisite,  so  that  there  is  enough  of  v/eight  and 
worth  in  that  very  expectation  {i.  e.  in  what  we  expect) 
to  outweigh  them  all,  and  to  render  the  exercise  thereof 
highly  reasonable  upon  that  account.     •■  I  reckon  (saith 
the  apostle)  that  the  sufferings  of  this  present  time  are  not 
worthy  to  be  compared  with  the  glory  that  shall  be  reveal- 
ed in  us.     Thus  (saith  he)  I  reckon,  i.  e.  it  is  my  stated, 
settled  judgment,  not  a  sudden,  rash  thought.     When  I 
have  reasoned  the  matter  with  myself,  weighed  it  well, 
considered  the  case,  turned  it  round,  viewed  it  exactly  on 
every  side,  balanced  advantages  and  disadvantages,  pon- 
dered all  things  which  are  fit  to  come  into  consideration 
about  it,  this  is  the  result,  the  final  determination^  that 
which  I  conclude  and  judge  at  last,  (judgment  is  the  last 
product  and  issue  of  the  most  exquisite  inquiry  and  de- 
bate, the  ultimate  and  most  perfect  act  of  reason,)  that  the 
sufferings  of  this  now  of  time  are  of  no  value  ;  things  not 
fit,  as  it  were,  to  be  mentioned  the  same  day  with  the  glory 
to  be  revealed,  &c.     It  can  therefore  be  no  hard  law,  no 
unreasonable  imposition,  that  shall  oblige  us  to  the  exer- 
cise of  patience,  under  such  sufferings,  in  the  expectation 
of  so  transcendent  glory.     For,  consider, — First,  These 
sufferings  are  but  from  men;  (for  the  sufferings  of  which 
the  apostle  here  speaks,  are  such  as  wherein  we  suffer 
together  with  Christ,  i.  e.  for  his  name  and  interest,  on 
behalf  of  the  Christian  cause;)  but  this  glory  is  from  God. 
How  disproportionable  must  the  effects  be  of  a  created 
and  increated  cause. — Again,  these  sufferings  reach  no 
further  than  the  bone  and  flesh,  (fear  not  them  that  kill 
the  body,  and  after  they  have  done  that,  can  do  no  more, 
&c.)  but  this  glory  reaches  unto  and  transforms  the  soul. 
How  little  can  a  clod  of  earth  suffer,  in  comparison  of 
what  an  immortal  spirit  may  enjoy  ! — And  further,  There 
is  much  mixture  in  our  present  sufferings  ;  the  present 
state  of  suffering  saints  is  not  a  state  of  total  misery;  there 
are,  as  it  were,  rays  of  glory  interlaced  with  their' present 
afflictions :  but  there  will  be  nothing  of  affliction  mingled 
with  their  future  glory. 

Yea,  and  (what  may  not  only  convince,  but  even  trans- 
port us  too)  these  suifferings  are  but  temporary,  nay  but 


q  Col.  i.  13. 
8  3  Cor.  iv.  17. 


r  Rom.  viii  19. 
t  Heb.  xii.  1. 


momentary,  this  glory  eternal.     What  heart  is  big  enough 
lo  comprehend  the  full  sense  of  these  words,"  Our  light 
affliction  which  is  but  for  a  moment,  workcth  for  us  a  far 
more  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of  glory.     How  might 
I  dwell  here  upon  every  syllable,  light  affliction,  weighty 
glory,  exceeding  v^eipht,  affliction  for  a  moment,  eternal 
weight  of  glory  !  O  then,  how  unworthy  is  it  of  the  Chris- 
tian name  and  hopes,  that  we  should  have  an  impatient 
resentment  of  this  method  God  follows  with  us,  (as  he  did 
with  our  great  Redeemer  and  Lord,)  that  we  should  suffer 
first,  and  then  enter  into  glory !  Heaven  were  a  poor  hea- 
ven, if  it  would  not  make  us  savers.     It  were  high  time 
for  us  to  give  over  the  Christian  profession,  if  we  do  not 
really  account,  that  its  reward  and  hope  do  surmount  its 
reproach  and  trouble;  or  do  think  its  cross  more  weighty 
than  its  crown.     Is  the  price  and  worth  of  eternal  glory 
fallen  1    It  hath  been  counted  worth  suffering  for.    There 
have  been  those  in  the  world  that  would  not  accept  de- 
liverance from  these  sufferings,  that  they  might  obtain  the 
better  resurrection.     Are  we  grown  wiser  1    Or  would  we 
indeed  wish  God  should  turn  the  tables,  and  assign  us 
our  good  things  here,  and  hereafter  evil  things  1  Ungrate- 
ful souls!     How  severe  should  we  be  to  ourselves,  that 
we  should  be  so  apt  to  complain  for  what  we  should  ad- 
mire and  give  thanks!     What,  because  purer  and  more 
refined  Christianity  in  our  time  and  in  this  part  of  the 
world,  hath  had  public  favour  and  countenance,  can  we 
therefore  not  tell  how  to  frame  our  minds  to  the  thoughts 
of  sufferings  1     Are  tribulation  and  patience  antiquated 
names,  quite  out  of  date  and  use  with  us,  and  more  un- 
grateful to  our  ears  and  hearts,  than  heaven  and  eternal 
g\orj  are  acceptable  1     And  had  we  rather  (if  we  were  in 
danger  of  suffering  on  the  Christian  account)  run  a  hazard 
as  to  the  latter,  than  adventure  on  the  former  1     Or  do  we 
think  it  impossible  we  should  ever  come  to  the  trial,  or 
be  concerned  to  busy  ourselves  with  such  thoughts'?     Is 
the  world   become  so   stable  and  so   unacquainted  with 
vicissitudes,  that  a  state  of  things  less  favourable  to  our 
profession  can  never  revolve  upon  us  1  It  were,  however, 
not  unuseful  to  put  such  a  case  by  way  of  supposition  to 
ourselves.  For  every  sincere  Christian  is  in  affection  and 
preparation  of  his  mind  a  mart}-r.      He  that   loves  not 
Christ  better  than  his  own  life,  cannot  be  his  disciple.  We 
should  at  least  inure  our  thoughts  more  to  a  suffering  state, 
that  we  mav  thence  take  some  occasion  to  reflect  and  judge 
of  the  temper  of  our  hearts  towards  the  name  and  cause 
of  Christ.     'Tis  easy  suffering  indeed,  in  idea  and  contem- 
plation ;  but  something  may  be  collected  from  the  obser- 
vation, how  we  can  relish  and  comport  with  such  thoughts. 
'Tis  as  training  in  order  to  fight;  which  is  done  often  upon 
a  verv  remote  supposition,  that  such  occasions  may  possi- 
bly fall  out. 

Therefore,  What  now  do  we  think  of  it  if  our  way  into 
the  kingdom  of  God  shall  be  through  many  tribulations  1 
If,  before  we  behold  the  smiles  of  his  blessed  face,  we 
must  be  entertained  with  the  less  pleasing  sight  of  the 
frowning  aspect  and  visage  of  an  angry  world  1  If  we 
first  bear  the  imaffe  t/  a  crucified  Christ,  ere  we  partake 
of  the  likeness  of  a  glorious  God  1  What,  do  we  regret 
the  thoughts  of  it  ?  Do  we  account  we  shall  be  ill  dealt 
with,  and  have  a  hard  bargain  of  it  1  O  how  tender  are 
we  grown,  in  comparison  of  the  hardiness  and  magna- 
nimitv  of  primitive  Christians!  We  have  not  the  patience 
to  think  of  what  they  had  the  patience  to  endure.  We 
should  not  yet  forgctourselvea,  that  such  a  thing  belongs 
to  our  profession,  even  in  this  way  to  testify  our  fidelity  to 
Christ,  and  our  value  of  the  inheritance  purchased  by  his 
blood,  if  he  call  us  thereunto.  We  must  know  it  is  a  thing 
inserted  into  the  religion  of  Christians,  and  (with  respect 
to  their  condition  in  this  world)  made  an  essential  thereto. 
He  cannot  be  a  Christian,  that  doth  not  deny  himself  and 
take  tip  the  cross.  How  of^en  when  the  active  part  of  a 
Christian's  duty  is  spoken  of,  is  the  passive  part  studiously 
and  expresslv  annexed!  Let  us  run  ui-ith  patience  the 
race  that  is  set  before  us.  The  good  ground  brought  forth 
fruit,  ^loUh  patience,  eternal  life  is  for  them  that  by»  a 
patient  continuance  in  well-doing  seek  after  it.  Yea,  and 
hence  the  word  of  Christ  is  called  ^the  word  of  his  pa- 

u  Matt.  XV*  X  Rom.  u. 

y  Ror.  iii. 


266 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


Chap.  XX. 


Hence.  And  the  stj'le  -wherein  the  beloved  disciple  speaks 
of  himself  and  his  profession,  is  this,  ^  1  John,  a  companion 
in  tribulation  and  in  the  kingdom  and  patience  of  Jesus 
Christ.  Do  we  mean  to  plead  prescripiion  against  all 
this  ■?  or  have  we  got  an  express  exemption  1  Have  we  a 
discharge  to  show,  a  manumission  from  all  the  suftcring 
part  of  a  Christian's  duty"?  and  is  it  not  a  discharge  also 
from  being  Christians  as  much'?  Will  we  disavow  our- 
selves to  belong  to  that  noble  society,  of  them  that  through 
faith  and  patience  inherit  the  promises'?  Surely  we  are 
highly  conceited  of  ourselves,  if  we  think  we  are  too  good 
to  be  numbered  among  them  of  whom  the  w^orld  was  not 
worthy.  Or  we  design  to  ourselves  a  long  abode  here, 
while  we  so  much  value  the  world's  favour,  and  a  freedom 
from  worldly  trouble:  or  eternity  is  with  us  an  empty 
sound,  and  the  future  blessedness  of  saints  an  airy  thing, 
that  we  should  reckon  it  insufficient  to  counterpoise  the 
fiufferings  of  a  few  hasty  days  that  will  soon  have  an  end. 
'Tis  X  sad  symptom  of  the  declining  state  of  religion,  when 
the  powers  of  the  world  to  come  are  so  over-mastered  by 
the  powers  of  this  present  world,  and  objects  of  sense  so 
much  outweigh  those  of  faith.  And  is  not  this  appa- 
rently the  case  with  the  Christians  of  the  present  age  "?  Do 
not  your  thoughts  run  the  same  course  with  theirs  that 
meditated  nothing  but  sitting  on  the  right  and  left  hand  of 
Christ,  in  an  earthly  dominion,  while  they  never  dreamt 
of  drinking  of  his  cup,  or  being  baptized  with  his  baptism  ! 
How  many  vain  dreamers  have  we  of  golden  mountains, 
and  (I  know  not  what)  earthly  felicity  ;  whose  pretended 
prophecies  about  a  (supposed)  near  approaching  prosperity 
to  the  church  on  earth,  gain  easier  belief,  or  are  more 
savoury  and  taking,  with  too  many,  than  all  that  the  sacred 
oracles  discover  about  its  glorious  state  in  heaven  !  Hence 
are  our  shoulders  so  unfitted  to  Christ's  yoke,  (like  the  un- 
accustomed heifer,)  and  the  business  of  suffering  will  not 
enter  into  our  hearts.  Methinks  the  belief  and  expectation 
of  such  a  slate  hereafter,  should  make  us  even  regardless 
of  what  we  see  or  sulTer  here;  and  render  the  good  or  evil 
things  of  time  as  indifferent  to  us.  Yet  neither  plead  I  for 
an  absolute  stoical  apathy,  but  for  patience.  A  great  fol- 
lower of  that  sect  acknowledges,  »  "  It  is  not  a  virtue  tobear 
what  we  feel  not,  or  have  no  sense  of.  Stupidity  under 
Providence  is  not  a  Christian  temper  ;"  as  that  moralist 
says  of  the  wise  man,  "  'Tis  not  the  hardness  of  stone  or 
,iron  that  is  to  be  ascribed  to  him."  But  lest  any  should 
'run  into  that  more  dangerous  mistake,  to  think,  that  by  the 
patience  we  have  been  all  this  while  persuading  to  (in  the 
expectation  of  tlie  blessedness  yet  to  come)  is  meant  a  love 
of  tlus  present  world,  and  a  complacential  adherence  of 
heart  to  the  earth ;  (which  extreme  the  terrene  temper  of 
many  souls  may  much  incline  them  to ;)  it  will  be  necessary 
upon  that  account  to  add  (in  reference  also  to  the  yet 
future  expected  season  of  this  blessedness)  this  further  and 
concluding  instruction,  i-iz. 

8.  Rule.  That  (however  we  are  not  to  repine  at  our  being 
held  so  long  in  this  world  in  an  expecting  state,  yet)  we  let 
not  our  souls  cleave  too  close  to  their  terrestrial  stations, 
nor  be  too  much  in  love  with  the  body,  and  this  present 
low  state  of  life  on  earth.  For  evident  it  is,  that  notwith- 
standing all  the  miseries  of  this  expecting  state,  the  most 
are  yet  loth  to  leave  the  world,  and  have  hearts  sordidly 
hankering  after  present  things.  And  surely  there  is  much 
difference  between  being  patient  of  an  abode  on  earth,  and 
being  fond  of  it.  Therefore  since  the  true  blessedness  of 
saints  consists  in  such  things  as  we  have  shown,  and  can- 
not be  enjoyed  till  we  awake,  not  within  the  compass  of 
time  and  this  lower  world  ;  it  will  be  very  requisite  to  in- 
sist here  awhile  in  the  prosecution  of  this  last  rule.  And 
what  I  shall  say  to  it  shall  be  by  way  of — caution — and 
enforcement. 

I.  For  caution  :  that  we  misapprehend  not  that  temper 
and  disposition  of  spirit,  we  are  in  this  thing  to  endeavour 
and  aim  at.  And  it  especially  concerns  us  to  be  cautious 
about  the — inducements,  and — degree,  of  that  desire  of 
leaving  this  world,  or  contempt  of  this  present  life,  which 
we  either  aspire  to,  or  allow  ourselves  in. 

First,  Inducements.     Some  are  desirous,  others  at  least 

«  Re».  i.  a  Sen.  do  Constant,  sapientis. 

b  Jonah  iv.  S  c  Job  vii.  15. 

d  Demite  naufragium,  mors  mibi  muniis  crit.    0\i<l 


content,  to  quit  the  world  upon  ver}'  insufficient,  or  indeed 
wicked  considerations. 

1.  There  are,  who  desire  it  merely  to  be  out  of  the  way 
of  present  troubles,  whereof  they  have  either  too  impatient 
a  sense,  or  an  unworthy  and  impotent  fear.  Many  times 
the  urgency  and  anguish  of  incumbent  trouble  impresses 
such  a  sense,  and  utters  itself  in  such  language,  as  that, 
b  Now,  O  Lord,  take  I  beseech  thee  my  life  from  me,  for 
it  is  better  for  me  to  die  than  to  live.  Or  that,  ^  My  soul 
chooseth  strangling  and  death  rather  than  life :  makes 
men  long  for  death,  and  dig  for  it  as  for  hid  treasure;  re- 
joice and  be  exceeding  glad  when  they  can  find  the  grave. 

Yea,  and  the  very  fear  of  troubles  that  are  but  impend- 
ent and  threatening,  makes  some  wish  the  grave  a  sanc- 
tuary, and  renders  the  clods  of  the  valley  sweet  unto  their 
thoughts.  They  lay  possibly  .so  humoursome  and  fanciful 
stress  upon  the  mere  circumstances  of  dying,  that  they  are 
earnest  to  die  out  of  hand  to  avoid  dying  so  and  so  ;  as 
the  poet  would  fain  persuade  himself^  it  was  not  death 
he  feared,  but  shipacreck :  it  would  not  trouble  Ihcni  to  die, 
but  to  die  by  a  violent  hand,  or  to  be  made  a  public  spec- 
tacle ;  they  cannot  endure  the  thoughts  of  dying  so.  Here 
is  nothing  commendable  or  worthy  of  a  Christian  in  all 
this.  It  were  a  piece  of  Christian  bravery  to  dare  to  live 
in  such  a  case,  even  when  there  is  a  visible  likelihood  of 
dying  a  sacrifice  in  the  midst  of  flames.  How  much  this 
glory  was  affected  in  the  earlier  days  of  Christianity  is 
sufficiently  known :  though  I  confess  there  were  excesses 
in  that  kind,  altogether  unimitable.  But  if  God  call  a 
man  forth  to  be  his  champion  and  witness,  to  lay  down  a 
life,  in  itself  little  desirable,  in  a  truly  worthy  cause,  the 
call  of  his  providence  should  be  as  the  sound  of  the  trum- 
pet to  a  truly  martial  spirit ;  it  should  fill  his  soul  with  a 
joyful  courage  and  sense  of  honour,  and  be  complied  with 
cheerfully,  with  that  apprehension  and  resentment  a  stout 
soldier  would  have  of  his  general's  putting  him  upon  some 
very  hazardous  piece  of  service,  viz.  he  would  say,  «  (as 
the  moralist  expresses  his  sense  for  him,)  My  general  hath 
not  deserved  ill  of  me,  Imt  it  appears  he  judged  well.  It 
should  be  counted  all  joy  f  to  fall  into  such  trials  ;  that  is, 
when  they  become  our  lot  by  a  providential  disposition,  not 
by  a  rash  precipitation  of  ourselves.  And  as  it  is  a  wicked- 
ness inconsistent  with  Christianity,  to  be  of  that  habitual 
temper,  to  choose  to  desert  such  a  cause  for  the  saving  of 
life ;  so  it  is  a  weakness  very  reproachful  to  it,  to  lay  down 
one's  life  in  such  a  case  with  regret,  as  unwilling  in  this  kind 
to  glorify  him  who  laid  down  his  for  us.  We  are  no  more 
to  die  to  ourselves  than  to  live  to  ourselves.  Our  Lord  Jesus 
hath  purchased  to  himself  a  dominion  over  both  states,  of 
the  living  and  dead,  and  whether  'we  live,  we  must  live 
to  him,  or  die,  we  must  die  to  him.  'Tis  the  glory  of  a 
Christian  to  live  so  much  above  the  world,  that  nothing 
in  it  may  make  him  either  fond  of  life,  or  weary  of  it. 

2.  There  are  others  who  are  (at  least)  indifferent  and 
careless  how  soon  they  die,  out  of  either  a  worse  than 
paganish  infidelity,  disbelieving  the  concernments  of  an- 
other world  ;  or  a  brutish  stupidity,  not  apprehending 
them;  or  a  gross  conceited  ignorance,  misunderstanding 
the  terms  of  the  g  spel,  and  thinking  themselves  to  be  in 
a  good  condition,  as  to  eternity,  when  the  case  is  much 
otherwise  with  them.  Take  heed  thy  willingness  to  die 
be  from  no  such  inducements,  but  a  mere  desire  of  being 
with  God,  and  of  attaining  this  perfection  and  blessedness, 
which  he  hath  engaged  thee  in  the  pursuit  and  expecta- 
tion of  And  then,  having  made  sure  it  be  right  as  to  the 
rise  and  principle. 

Be  careful  it  be  not  undue  in  point  of  degree  ;  i.  e.  a 
cold  intermittent  velleity  is  too  little  on  the  one  hand,  and 
a  peremptory,  precipitant  hastiness  is  too  much  on  the 
other.  The  middle  and  desirable  temper  here  is  a  com- 
placential submission  to  the  Divine  will  in  that  affair, 
with  a  preponderating  inclination  on  our  part,  towards 
our  eternal  home,  if  the  Lord  see  good.  For  we  have  two 
things  to  attend  in  this  business,  and  by  which  our  spirits 
may  be  swayed  this  way  or  that,  i.  c.  the  goodness  of  the 
object  to  be  chosen,  and  the  will  of  God  which  must 
guide  and  overrule  our  choice;  the  former  whereof  we 

e  Imperator  de  me  non  male  meruit,  sed  bene  judicavit.    Sen. 
f  Jam.  i.  S.  g  Rom.  xiv.  8. 


Chap.  XX. 


THE  BLESSEDXESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


2C7 


are  permitted  to  eye  in  subordination  to  the  latter,  and  not 
otherwise.  Now  our  apprehension  uC  tlie  desirableness  and 
intrinsic  goodness  of  the  object  ought  to  be  such,  (we  are 
infidels  else,  if  we  have  not  that  account  of  it,)  that  no- 
thing we  can  e)'e  under  the  notion  of  a  good  to  us,  may 
be  reckoned  so  eligible  as  that,  ri^.  our  final  and  complete 
blessedness  in  the  olher  world;  which  because  we  know 
we  cannot  enjoy  without  dying,  death  also  must  be  judged 
more  eligible  than  life,  that  is,  our  blessedness  must  be 
judged  eligible  for  itself,  and  death  as  requisite  to  make  it 
present.  So  that  the  entire  object  we  are  discoursing  of 
being  present  blessedness,  consider  it  in  comparison  with 
any  thing  else,  that  can  be  looked  upon  by  us  as  a  good 
which  we  ourselves  are  to  enjoy,  it  ought  to  be  preferred 
and  chosen  out  of  hand,  inasmuch  as  nothing  can  be  so 
great  a  present  good  to  us  as  that.  And  this  ought  to  be 
the  proper  habitual  inclination  of  our  spirits,  their  con- 
stant frame  and  bent,  as  they  respect  only  our  interest  and 
welfare.  But  considering  God's  dominion  over  us,  and 
interest  in  our  lives  and  beings,  and  that  as  well  ingenuity 
as  necessity  binds  us  to  be  subject  to  his  pleasure,  we 
should  herein  patienth'  sufl'er  ourselves  to  be  overruled 
thereby,  and  not  so  abstractly  mind  our  own  interest  and 
contentment  in  this  matter,  as  if  we  were  altogether  our 
own,  and  had  no  Lord  over  us.  Plato,  who  a,bounds  in 
discourses  of  the  desirableness  of  d3dng,  and  of  the  blessed 
change  it  makes  with  them  that  are  good,  yet  hath  this 
apt  expression  of  the  subjection  we  ought  to  be  in  to  the 
Divine  pleasure  as  to  this  matter,  h  •'  That  the  soul  is  in 
the  body  as  soldiers  in  a  garrison,  from  whence  they  may 
not  withdraw  themselves  without  his  order  and  direction 
who  placed  them  there:"  and  expostulates  thus,  "  If  (saith 
he)  a  slave  of  yours  should  destroy  his  own  life  without 
your  consent,  would  you  not  be  displeased  ;  and  if  there 
had  been  any  place  lefi  for  revenge,  been  apt  enough  for 
that  too  V  So  he  brings  in  Socrates  discoursing  ;  and  dis- 
covers himself  herein  to  have  had  more  light  in  this  mat- 
ter, touching  that  subordinate  interest  only  men  have  in 
their  own  lives,  and  the  unlawfulness  of  self-murder,  (as 
he  had  in  other  things  too,)  than  most  heathens  of  the 
mure  refined  sect  ever  arrived  to. 

If  therefore  God  would  give  us  leave  to  die,  we  should 
upon  our  own  account  be  much  more  inclined  to  choose  it ; 
but  while  he  thinks  fit  to  have  it  deferred,  should  yield  to 
his  will  wiih  an  unrepining  submission.  Only  it  ought 
not  to  resi  at  all  on  our  part,  or  that  as  to  ourselves  we  find 
any  thing  more  grateful  to  us  in  this  world,  that  we  are 
willing  to  stay  a  day  longer  in  it.  That  for  our  own  sakes 
we  should  affect  a  continuance  here,  would  argue  a  ter- 
rene, sordid  spirit.  But  then  such  should  be  our  dutiful 
filial  love  to  the  Father  of  our  spirits,  that  in  pure  dcvoted- 
ness  to  his  interests,  we  would  be  content  to  dwell  (if  he 
would  have  it  so)  a  Methuselah's  age  in  an  earthly  taber- 
nacle for  his  service ;  that  is,  that  we  may  help  to  pre- 
serve his  memorial  in  a  lapsed  world,  (overrun  with  athe- 
ism and  ignorance  of  its  Maker,)  and  win  him  hearts  and 
love  (to  our  uttermost)  among  his  apostate,  disloyal  crea- 
tures ;  and  in  our  capacities  be  helpful  to  the  encourage- 
ment of  such  as  he  continues  in  the  world  for  the  same 
purposes.  This  is  the  very  temper  the  apostle  expresses; 
when  in  that  strait.  Which  way  the  poise  of  his  own 
spirits  inclined  him,  in  the  consideration  of  his  own  inte- 
rest, and  what  was  simply  more  eligible  to  him,  he  ex- 
presses with  high  emphasis  ;  To  be  with  Christ,  saith  he, 
is  more,  more  desirable  to  be,  (for  there  are  two  compara- 
tives in  the  Greek  text,)  and  therefore  he  professes  his  own 
desire  in  order  thereto,  to  be  dissolved ;  but  that  private  de- 
sire was  not  so  peremptory  and  absolute,  but  he  could  make 
it  yield  and  give  place  to  his  duty  towards  God  and  his 
church,  as  it  follows.  So  we  know  'tis  possible,  that  re- 
spects to  a  friend  may  overswaj'a  man's  own  particular  in- 
clination ;  and  the  inclination  remain  notwithstanding,  but 
is  subdued  only;  otherwise,  had  any  reason  or  argument 
that  did  respect  myself  persuaded  me  to  change  it,  I 
should  then  follow  but  ray  own  proper  inclmatiou  still, 
and  so  my  friend  hath  nothing  to  thank  me  for. 

So  it  ought  to  be  with  us  here.     Our  inclination  should 
preponderate  towards  a  present  change  of  our  slate  ;  only 
our  dcvotedness  to  his  interest  and  pleasure,  whose  we 
b  In  Phaed.  Vid.  ct  Plotin.  T£Ot  tlayioyrjs,  Encad   I. 


are,  should  easily  overrule  it.  This  is  the  lovely  tempei 
of  a  giacious  spirit,  as  to  this  thing,  that  to  die  inight  be 
our  choice,  and  to  live  in  the  meantime  submitted  to  as 
our  duty.  As  an  ingenuous  son  whom  his  father  hath  em- 
ployed abroad  in  a  foreign  country,  though  duty  did  bind 
him  cheerfully  therein  to  comply  with  his  father's  will, 
and  the  necessity  of  his  affairs;  yet,  when  his  father  shall 
.signify  to  him,  that  now  he  understands  no  necessity  of  his 
longer  continuance  there,  and  therefore  he  may  if  he 
please  return,  but  he  shall  have  leave  to  follow  his  own 
inclination,  'lis  not  hard  to  conjecture,  that  the  desire  of 
seeing  a  father's  face  would  soon  determine  the  choice  of 
such  a  son  that  way.  But  how  remote  are  the  generality 
of  them  that  profess  themselves  God's  children  from  that 
pious  ingenuity  !  We  have  taken  root  in  the  earth,  and 
forgotten  our  heavenly  originals  and  alliances.  We  are  £is 
inhabitants  here,  not  pilgrims  ;  hardly  persuaded  to  enter- 
tain with  any  patience  the  thoughts  of  leaving  our  place.-? 
on  earth;  which  yet,  do  we  what  we  can,  shall  shortly 
know  us  no  more.  In  short,  then,  that  vile  temper  of 
spirit,  against  which  I  professedly  bend  mvself  in  the  fol- 
lowing discourse,  is,  when  men,  not  out  of  any  sense  of 
duly  toward  God,  or  solicitude  for  their  own  souls,  but  a 
mere  sordid  love  to  the  body,  and  affixedness  of  heart  to 
the  earth  and  terrene  things,  cannot  endure  the  thoughts 
of  dying.  And  that  which  I  persua-de  to  is,  that  having 
the  true  prospect  of  the  future  blessedness,  before  our  ej-es, 
and  our  hearts  possessed  with  the  comforia'ble  hope  of  at- 
taining to  it,  we  shake  off  our  earthlj-  inclinations,  and 
expect  with  desire  and  joy  the  time  of  our  dismission 
hence,  that  we  may  enjoy  it ;  which  is  the  design  of  what 
was  promised  in  the  next  place,  viz. 

2.  The  inforceraent  of  this  instruction.  Suffer  we  there- 
fore ourselves  to  be  reasoned  with  about  this  matter  ;  and 
let  us  consider  whether  we  can  in  good  earnest  think  such 
an  aversation,  as  we  discover,  to  our  blessed  translation 
hence,  an  excusable,  a  tolerable  temper  ;  or  wliether  it  be 
not  highl)'  reasonable,  that  we  should  entertain  the 
thoughts,  at  least,  with  more  content  and  patience  (if  not 
with  more  fervent  desire)  of  our  departure  hence  and  in- 
troduction into  that  other  state.  Let  me  demand  of  thee, 
dost  thou  thus  regret  the  thoughts  of  death,  as  being  un- 
willing to  die  at  all,  or  as  being  unwilling  to  die  as  yet  1 
Is  it  the  thing  itself,  or  only  the  circumstance  of  time  that 
thou  exceptest  against  1  'Tis  likely  thou  wilt  say  that  which 
will  seem  more  plausible,  and  so  fix  only  on  the  latter;  and 
that  thou  wilt  not  profess  to  desire  an  eternity  on  earth, 
but  onl)'^  more  time.  Well,  let  that  for  the  present  be  sup- 
posed, as  It  is  a  more  modest,  so  to  be  a  true  account  ol 
thy  desires  :  yet  what  is  the  reason  of  this  moderation 
v/ith  thee  herein;  and  that  thou  so  limitest  thyself?  Is  it 
thai  thou  believest  the  blessedness  of  the  other  state  will 
prove  better  than  any  thing  thou  canst  enjoy  here ;  and 
that  thou  art  not  willing  eternally  to  be  deprived  of  1  But 
dost  thou  not  think  it  is  noic  better  also  1  And  what  canst 
thou  pretend,  whv  what  is  now  the  best  and  most  desirable 
good,  should  not  be  now  chosen  and  desired  out  of  hand  1 
Or  is  it  that  thou  thinkest  it  unbecomes  t'nee  to  cross  the 
supreme  will  of  him  that  made  thee,  who  hath  determined, 
that  all  men  once  shall  die  I  And  then,  how  knowest  thou 
but  he  hath  also  determined  concerning  thee  that  thou  shalt 
die  the  next  davor  hour?  and  it  is  only  a  present  willing- 
ness to  die,  in  subordination  to  the  Divine  will,  or  upon 
supposition  of  it,  thou  art  persuaded  to.  AVhy,  art  thou 
not  afraid,  lest  thy  present  unwillingness  should  cross  his 
present  will  1  Dost  thou  not  think  that  sovereign  power 
is  as  sufficient  to  determine  of  the  circumstance,  as  the 
thin*^  itseJf  1  And  art  thou  not  ashamed  to  pretend  an 
a?ree"ient  with  God  about  the  thing  itself,  and  yet  differ 
^^n;h  him  about  a  circumstance  1  Shall  that  be  a  ground  of 
■quarrel  between  him  and  thee  1 

But  while  thou  only  professes!  that  more  modest  desire 
of  more  lime  in  the  world,  what  security  canst  thou  give, 
that  when  that  desire  hath  been  liberally  gratified,  it  shall 
be  at  lenglh  laid  down,  and  tumultuaieno  more  1  What 
bounds  wilt  thou  fix  to  it,  which  thou  darest  undertake  it 
shall  no;  ]>ass  1  Art  thou  sure,  when  thou  shalt  have  kin 
at  the  world's  breast  ten  or  twenty  years  longer,  thou  Tilt 
then  imagine  thyself  to  have  drawn  it  dry ;  or  that  -.ten 
i  Phil.  i. 


268 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGFITEOUS. 


Chap.    XX. 


thou  shall  begin  to  nauseate  the  w&rld  and  wish  for  heaven  1 
Or  hast  thou  not  reason  from  thy  former  experience  to 
suspect,  that  the  longer  thou  dwellest  on  earth,  the  more 
terrene  thou  wilt  grow ;  and  that  if  thou  be  indisposed  to 
leave  it  this  day  or  year,  thou  wilt  be  more  so  the  next ; 
and  so  thy  desire  become  boundless  and  infinite,  which  is 
to  desire  to  be  here  always,  the  thing  which  thou  seemedst 
so  unwilling  to  own  1  And  if  that  prove  at  last  the  true 
state  of  thy  case,  art  thou  then  a  Christian,  or  art  thou  a 
man,  that  thou  harbourest  in  thy  breast  so  irreligious  and 
irrational,  yea,  so  sordid  a  wish  1  What !  wish  eternally 
to  be  affixed  to  a  clod  of  earth  1  Is  that  at  length  become 
thy  Godi  Or  wilt  thou  say,  he  is  thy  God  whom  thou 
never  desirest  to  enjoy  1  Or,  that  thou  hast  already  enough 
of  him,  but  not  of  the  world,  and  yet  that  he  is  thy  God  1 
Or  wouldst  thou  overturn  the  laws  of  nature,  and  subvert 
the  most  sacred  divine  constitutions,  abortive  the  designs 
of  eternal  wisdom  and  love,  evacuate  and  nullify  the  great 
achievements  of  thy  merciful  and  mighty  Redeemer,  only 
to  gratify  a  sensual,  brutish  humour  1  But  evident  it  is, 
thou  dost  only  in  vain  disquiet  thyself,  thou  canst  not  dis- 
turb the  settled  order  of  things.  Eternal  laws  are  not  re- 
pealable  by  a  fond  wish.  Thou  settest  that  dreadful  thing, 
death,  at  nothing  the  further  distance,  by  thine  abhorrency 
of  it.  It  will  overtake  thee  whether  thou  wilt  or  no ;  and 
methinks  thine  own  reason  should  instruct  thee  to  attemper 
and  form  thyself  to  what  thou  canst  not  avoid,  and  possess 
thee  with  such  thoughts  and  desires  as  those  of  tliat  dis- 
creet pagan. k  "  Lead  me,  O  God,  (saith  he,)  whither  thou 
wilt,  and  I  will  follow  thee  willingly  ;  but  if  I  be  rebel- 
lious and  refuse,  I  shall  follow  thee  notwithstanding." 
What  we  cannot  decline,  'tis  better  to  bear  willingly,  than 
with  a  regret,  that  shall  be  both  vain  and  afflictive. 

And  what  hast  thou  hitherto  met  M'ith  in  the  world,  that 
should  so  highly  endear  it  to  tliee  1  Examine  and  search 
more  narrowly  into  thy  earthly  comforts  ;  what  is  there  in 
them  to  make  them  self-desirable,  or  to  be  so  for  their  own 
sakes  ]  What  is  it  to  have  thy  flesh  indulged  and  pleased  1 
to  have  thy  sense  gratified  ?  thy  fancy  tickled '?  What  so 
great  good,  worthy  of  an  immortal,  reasonable  spirit,  can.st 
thou  find  in  meats  and  drinks,  in  full  barns  and  coflers,  in 
vulgar  fame  and  applause,  that  should  render  these  things 
desirable  for  themselves  7  And  if  there  were  any  real  fe- 
licity in  these  things  for  the  present,  whilst  thou  art  per- 
mitted to  enjoy  them,  yet  dost  thou  not  know,  that  what 
thou  enjoyest  to-day  thou  mayst  lose  to-morrow,  and  that 
such  other  unthought-of  evils  may  befall  thee,  as  may  in- 
fuse a  bitterness  into  all  thou  enjoyest,  which  causes  im- 
mediately the  enjoyment  to  cease,  while  the  things  them- 
selves remain,  and  will  be  equal  to  a  total  loss  of  all  1 
And  thus,  as  the  moralist i  ingeniously  speaks,  "thou  wilt 
continually  need  another  happiness  to  defend  the  former, 
and  new  wishes  must  still  be  made  on  the  behalf  of  those 
which  have  already  succeeded."  But  canst  thou  indeed 
think  it  worth  the  while  that  the  Maker  of  the  universe 
should  create  a  soul,  and  send  it  down  into  the  world  on 
purpose  to  superintend  these  trivial  affairs,  to  keep  alive  a 
silly  piece  of  well-figured  earth  Mobile  it  eats  and  drinks, 
to  move  it  to  and  fro  in  chase  of  shadows,  to  hold  it  up 
while  others  bow  the  knee  and  do  it  homage,  if  it  had  not 
some  higher  work  to  mind  in  reference  to  another  state  1 
Art  thou  contented  to  live  long  in  the  world  to  such  pur- 
poses 1  What  low  worthless  spirit  is  this,  that  had  rather 
be  so  employed  than  in  the  visions  of  his  Maker's  face  • 
that  chooses  thus  to  entertain  itself  on  earth  rather  thari 
partake  the  effusions  of  Divine  glory  above  ;  that  had 
rather  creep  with  worms  than  soar  with  angeW;  associate 
with  brutes  than  with  the  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect  1 
Who  can  solve  the  phenomenon,  or  give  a  rational  account 
why  there  should  be  such  a  creature  as  man  upon  the 
earth,  abstracting  from  the  hopes  of  another  world  7  Who 
can  think  it  the  effect  of  an  infinite  wisdom  ;  or  accoitnt 
it  a  more  worthy  design,  than  the  repre.senting  of  such  a 
scene  of  actions  and  affairs  by  puppets  on  a  stage  1  For 
my  part,  upon  the  strictest  inquiry,  I  see  nothing  in  the 
life  of  man  upon  earth,  that  should  render  it,  for  itself, 
more  the  matter  of  a  rational  election  (supposing  the  free 
option  given  him  in  the  first  moment  of  his  being)  than 
presently  again  to  cease  to  be  the  next  moment. 
k  Epiclet.  1  Sen.  de  Brev.  Vit. 


Yea,  and  is  there  not  enough  obvious  in  every  man's  ex- 
perience, to  incline  him  rather  to  the  contra  y  choice  ;  and 
supposing  a  future  blessedness  in  another  world,  to  make 
him  passionately  desirous  (with  submission  to  the  Divine 
pleasure)  of  a  speedy  dismi.?.sion  into  it  1  Do  not  the  bur- 
dens that  press  us  in  this  earthly  tabernacle  teach  our  very 
sense,  and  urge  oppressed  natures  into  involuntary  groans, 
while  as  yet  our  consideration  doth  not  intervene  1  And 
if  we  do  consider,  is  not  every  thought  a  sting,  making  a 
much  deeper  impression  than  what  only  toucheth  our  flesh 
and  bones  1  Who  can  reflect  upon  his  present  state  and 
not  presently  be  in  pangs  1  The  troubles  that  follow  hu- 
manity are  many  and  great,  those  that  follow  Christianity 
more  numerous  and  grievous.  The  sickness,  pains,  losses, 
disappointments,  and  whatsoever  afflictions  that  are,  in  the 
apostle's  language,™  human,  or  common  to  men,  (as  are 
all  the  external  sufferings  of  Christians,  in  nature  and 
kind,  though  they  are  liable  to  them  upon  an  account  pe- 
culiar to  themselves,  which  there  the  apostle  intimates,) 
are  none  of  our  greatest  evils  ;  yet  even  upon  the  account 
of  them,  have  we  any  reason  to  be  so  much  in  love  with  so 
unkind  a  world  1  Is  it  not  strange,  our  very  bridewell 
should  be  such  a  heaven  to  us  1  But  these  things  are  little 
considerable  in  comparison  of  the  more  spiritual  grievances 
of  Christians,  as  such  ;  that  is,  those  that  afflict  our  souls 
while  we  are  (under  the  conduct  of  Christ)  designing  for 
a  blessed  eternity;  if  we  indeed  make  that  our  business, 
and  do  seriously  intend  our  spirits  in  order  thereto.  The 
darkness  of  our  beclouded  minds ;  the  glimmering  ineffec- 
tual apprehension  we  have  of  the  most  important  things; 
the  inconsistency  of  our  shattered  thoughts,  when  we  would 
apply  them  to  spiritual  objects ;  the  great  difficulty  of 
working  off  an  ill  frame  of  heart,  and  the  no  less  difficulty 
of  retaining  a  good;  our  being  so  frequently  tossed  as  be- 
tween heaven  and  hell ;  when  we  sometimes  think  our- 
selves to  have  even  attained  and  hope  to  descend  no  more, 
and  all  on  a  .sudden  plunged  in  the  ditch,  so  as  that  our 
own  clothes  might  abhor  us ;  fall  so  low  into  an  earthly 
temper,  that  we  can  like  nothing  heavenly  or  divine,  and 
because  we  cannot,  are  enforced  justly  most  of  all  to  dislike 
ourselves  1  are  these  things  little  with  us?  How  can  we 
forbear  to  cry  out  of  the  depths,  to  the  Father  of  our  spirits, 
that  he  would  pity  and  relieve  his  own  offspring !  Yea,  are 
we  not  weary  of  our  crying ;  and  yet  more  weary  of  hold- 
ing in  ■?  How  do  repelled  temptations  return  again,  and 
vanquished  corruptions  recover  strength  !  We  know  not 
when  our  work  is  done.  We  are  miserable  that  we  need 
to  be  always  watching,  and  more  miserable  that  we  cannot 
watch,  but  are  so  often  .surprised  and  overcome  of  evil. 
We  say  sometimes  with  ourselves,  we  will  seek  relief  in 
retirement,  but  we  cannot  retire  from  ourselves;  or  in 
converse  with  godly  friends,  but  they  sometimes  prove 
snares  to  us  and  we  to  them,  or  we  hear  but  our  own  mise- 
ries repeated  in  their  complaints.  Would  we  pray  1  How 
faint  is  the  breath  we  utter !  How  long  is  it  ere  we  can 
get  our  souls  possessed  with  any  becoming  apprehensions 
of  God,  or  lively  sense  of  our  own  concernments'?  Would 
we  meditate  1  We  sometimes  go  about  to  compose  our 
thoughts,  but  we  may  as  well  assay  to  hold  the  winds  in 
our  fist.  If  we  venture  forth  into  the  world,  how  do  our 
senses  betray  us  1  how  are  we  mocked  with  their  impos- 
tures ?  Their  nearer  objects  become  with  us  the  only  real- 
ities, and  eternal  things  are  all  vanished  into  airy  shadows. 
Reason  and  faith  are  laid  asleep,  and  our  sense  dictates  to 
us  what  we  are  to  believe  and  do,  as  if  it  were  our  only 
guide  and  lord.  And  what,  are  we  not  yet  weary  1  Is  it 
reasonable  to  continue  in  this  state  of  our  own  choice  1  Is 
misery  become  so  natural  to  us,  so  much  our  element,  that 
we  cannot  aflfect  to  live  out  of  it  1  Is  the  darkness  and 
dirt  of  a  dungeon  more  grateful  to  us  than  a  free  open  air 
and  sun  1  Is  this  flesh  of  ours  so  lovely  a  thing,  that  we 
had  rather  suffer  so  man}'  deaths  in  it,  than  one  in  putting 
it  off  and  mortality  with  it  1  While  we  carry  it  about  us, 
our  souls  impart  a  kind  of  life  to  it,  and  it  gives  them  death 
in  exchange.  Why  do  we  not  cry  out  more  feelingly,"  O 
wretched  man  that  I  am,  who  shall  deliver  me  from  this 
body  of  death  1"  Is  it  not  grievous  to  us  to  have  so  cum- 
bersome a  yoke-fellow,  to  be  tied  (as  Mczenlius  is  said  to 
have  done)  the  living  and  the  dead  together.  Do  we  not 
m  I  Cor.  X.  13. 


Chap.  XX. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


269 


find  the  distempers  of  our  spirits  are  mostly  from  these 
bodies  we  are  so  in  love  with,  either  as  the  proper  springs 
or  as  the  occasion  of  them  ?  From  what  cause  is  our 
drowsy  sloth,  our  eager  passions,  our  aversion  to  spiritual 
objects,  but  from  this  impure  flesh  ;  or  what  else  is  the 
subject  about  which  our  vexatious  cares,  or  torturing  fears, 
our  bitter  griefs,  are  taken  up  day  by  day  1 

And  why  do  we  not  consider,  that  'tis  only  our  love  to  it 
that  gives  strength  and  vigour  to  the  most  of  our  tempta^ 
tions,  as  wherein  it  is  most  immediately  concerned,  and 
which  makes  them  so  often  victorious,  and  thence  to  be- 
come our  after-afflictions  1  He  that  hath  learned  to  mortify 
the  inordinate  love  of  the  body,will  he  make  it  the  business 
of  his  life  to  purvey  for  it  ?  "Will  he  offtiv  violence  to  his 
own  soul,  to  secure  it  from  violence  1  Will  he  comply  with 
men's  lusts  and  humours  for  its  advantage  and  accommo- 
dation ;  or  yield  himself  to  the  tyranny  of  his  own  avarice 
for  its  future,  or  of  his  more  sensual  lusts  for  its  present, 
content  1  Will  it  not  rather  be  pleasing  to  him,  that  his 
outward  man  be  exposed  to  perish,  while  his  inward  man 
is  renewed  day  by  day  1  He  to  whom  the  thoughts  are 
grateful  of  layingit  down,  will  not  (though  he  neglect  not 
duty  towards  it)  spend  his  days  in  its  continual  service, 
and  make  his  soul  a  hell  by  a  continual  provision  for  the 
flesh  and  the  lusts  of  it.  That  is  cruel  love  that  shall  en- 
slave a  man,  and  subject  him  to  so  vile  and  ignoble  a  ser- 
vitude. And  it  discovers  a  sordid  temper  to  be  so  imposed 
upon.  How  low  are  our  spirits  sunk,  that  we  di,sdain  not 
so  base  a  vassalage !  God  and  nature  hath  obliged  us  to 
live  in  bodies  for  a  time,  but  they  have  not  obliged  us  to 
measure  ourselves  by  them,  to  confine  our  desires  and  de- 
signs to  their  compass,  to  look  no  further  than  their  con- 
cernments, to  entertain  no  previous  joys  in  the  hope  ot 
being  one  day  delivered  from  them.  No  such  hard  law  is 
laid  upon  us.  But  how  apt  are  we  to  become  herein  a 
most  oppressive  law  to  ourselves ;  and  not  only  to  lodge 
in  filthy  earthen  cottages,  but  to  love  them  and  confine 
ourselves  to  them,  loth  so  much  as  to  peep  out.  'Tis  the 
apt  expression  of  a  ■>  philosopher,  upbraiding  that  base, 
low  temper.  The  degenerous  soul,  (saith  he,)  buried  in  the 
body,  is  as  a  slothful  creeping  thing,  that  loves  its  hole  and 
is  loth  to  come  forth. 

And  methinks,  if  we  have  no  love  for  our  better  and  more 
noble  self,  we  should  not  be  altogether  unapprehensive  of 
an  obligation  upon  us,  to  express  a  dutiful  love  to  the  Au- 
thor of  our  beings.  Doth  it  consist  with  the  love  we  owe  to 
him,  to  desire  always  to  lurk  in  the  dark,  and  never  come 
into  his  blessed  presence  1  Is  that  our  love,  that  we  never 
care  to  come  nigh  him "?  Do  we  not  know, "  that  while  we 
are  present  in  the  body,  we  are  absent  from  the  Lord"? 
Should  we  not  therefore  be  willing  rather  to  be  present 
with  the  Lord,  and  absent  from  the  bodyl  Should  we 
not  put  on  a  confidence,  a  holy  fortitude,  (as  'tis  there 
expressed,  we  are  confident,  or  of  good  courage,  and 
thence,  willing,  &c.)  that  might  carry  us  through  the  grave 
to  him.  As  is  the  brave  speech  of  that  last-mentioned 
philosopher,  God  will  call  thee  ere  long,  expect  his  call,  p 
Old  age  will  come  upon  thee,  and  show  thee  the  vmy 
thither ;  and  death,  which  he  that  is  possessed  with  a  base 
fear,  lameiils  and  dreads  as  it  draws  on,  but  he  that  is  a 
lover  of  God  e.zpecls  it  loith  joy,  and  with  courage  meets  it 
when  it  comes.  Is  our  love  to  God  so  faint  and  weak,  that 
it  dares  not  encounter  death,  nor  venture  upon  the  imagin- 
ary terrors  of  the  grave,  to  go  to  him  ?  How  unsuitable  is 
this  to  the  character  which  is  given  i  of  a  saint's  love  ! 
And  how  expressly  are  we  told,  that  he  who  loves  his  life 
better  than  Christ,  or  that  even  hates  it  not  for  his  sake, 
(as  certainly  he  cannot  be  said  to  do,  that  is  not  willing  to 
part  with  it  to  enjo}"^  him,)  cannot  be  his  disciple  !  If  our 
love  to  God  be  not  supreme  'tis  none,  or  not  such  as  can 
denominate  us  lovers  of  him;  and  will  we  pretend  to  be 
so,  when  we  love  a  putrid  flesh  and  this  base  earth  better 
than  himl  And  have  we  not  professedly,  as  a  fruit  of  our 
avowed  love  to  him,  surrendered  ourselves "?  Are  we  not 
his  devoted  ones'?  Will  we  be  his,  and  yet  our  own  1 
or  pretend  ourselves  dedicated  to  his  holy  pleasure,  and 
will  yet  be  at  our  own  dispose,   and  so  dispose  of  our- 

n  H  Ji"  iziKr]  xpuxn  KarOjXdpvyfjtvrj  cv  oMfiaTi,  <o{  epnerov  V(o6ei  eis 
(pixiXcov,  lii^et  Tov  ipuiXeov,  &c.     Max.  Tyr.  Diss.  41. 
o  i  Cor.  V.  6  B.  p  .:\:(Xo(  oivficrai,  tie.    Itfm.  Dibs.  1. 


selves  too,  as  that  we  may  be  most  ungrateful  to  him,  and 
most  incapable  of  converse  with  him  ?  How  doth  this 
love  of  a  perishing  life  and  of  a  little  animated  clay  stop 
all  the  effusions  of  the  love  of  God,  suspend  its  sweet 
and  pleasant  fruits,  which  should  be  always  exerting 
themselves  towards  him  I  Where  is  their  love,  obedi- 
ence, joy,  and  praise,  who  are  through  the  fear  of  death 
all  their  lives  subject  to  bondage,  and  kept  under  a  con- 
tinual dismal  expectation  of  an  unavoidable  dissolution! 
But  must  the  great  God  lose  his  due  acknowledgments 
because  we  will  not  understand  wherein  he  deals  well  with 
us!  Is  his  mercy  therefore  no  mercy  1  As  we  cannot 
nullify  his  truth  by  our  imbelief,  so  nor  his  goodness  by 
our  disesteem.  But  yet  consider,  doth  it  not  belter  become 
thee  to  be  grateful  than  repine  that  God  will  one  day  un- 
bind thy  soul  and  set  thee  free,  knock  off"  thy  fetters  and 
deliver  thee  out  of  the  house  of  thy  bondage ;  couldst  thou 
upon  deliberate  thoughts  judge  it  tolerable,  should  he  doom 
thee  to  this  earth  for  ever  1  He  hath  hovever  judged  other- 
wise, (as  the  pagan  emperor  and  philosopher  excellently 
speaks, r)  who  is  the  author  both  of  the  first  compositio-a  of 
thy  present  being  and  noio  of  the  dissolution  of  it;  thou 
wert  the  cause  of  neither,  therefore  depart  and  be  thankful, 
for  he  that  dismisseth  thee  dealelh  kindly  with  thee.  If  yet 
thou  understandest  it  not,  yet  remember,  it  is  thy  Father 
that  disposes  thus  of  thee.  How  unworthy  is  it  to  dis- 
trust his  love  ;  what  child  would  be  afraid  to  compose  it- 
self to  sleep  in  the  parent's  bosom?  It  expresses  nothing 
of  the  duty  and  ingenuity,  but  much  of  the  frowardness 
and  folly,  of  a  child :  they  sometimes  cry  vehemently  in 
the  undressing ;  but  should  their  cries  be  regarded  by  the 
most  indulgent  parent  1  or  are  they  fit  to  be  imitated  by  us  1 

We  have  no  excuse  for  this  our  frowardness.  The 
blessed  God  hath  told  us  his  gracious  purposes  concerning 
us,  and  we  are  capable  of  understanding  him.  What  if 
he  had  totally  hidden  from  us  our  future  state  1  and  that 
we  knew  nothing,  but  of  going  into  an  eternal,  silent  dark- 
ness 1  the  authority  of  a  Creator  ought  to  have  awed  us 
into  a  silent  submission.  But  when  we  are  told  of  such 
a  glory,  that  'tis  but  drawing  aside  the  fleshly  veil  and  we 
presently  behold  it,  methinks  the  blessed  hour  should  be 
expected  not  with  patience  only,  but  with  ravishing  joy. 
Did  we  hear  of  a  country  in  this  world,  where  we  might 
live  in  continual  felicity,  without  toil,  or  sickness,  or  grief, 
or  fear,  who  would  not  wish  to  be  there,  though  the  pas- 
sage were  troublesome  1  Have  we  not  heard  enough  of 
heaven  to  allure  us  thither?  Or  is  the  eternal  truth  ot 
suspected  credit  with  us  ?  Are  God's  own  reports  of  the 
future  glory  unworthy  our  belief  or  regard  ?  How  many, 
upon  the  credit  of  his  word,  are  gone  already  triumphantly 
into  glory !  '  that  only  by  seeing  the  promises  afar  off",  were 
persuaded  of  them,  and  embraced  them;  and  never  after 
owned  themselves  under  any  other  notion  than  of  pilgrims 
on  earth,  longing  to  be  at  home  in  their  most  desirable, 
heavenly  country.  We  are  not  the  first  that  are  to  open 
heaven  ,  the  main  body  of  saints  is  already  there ;  'tis,  in 
comparison  of  their  number,  but  a  scattering  remnant  that 
are  now  alive  upon  the  earth.  How  should  we  long  to  be 
associated  to  that  glorious  assembh' !  Methinks  we  should 
much  more  regret  our  being  left  behind. 

But  if  we  should  desire  still  to  be  so,  why  may  not  all 
others  as  well  as  we,  and  as  much  expect  to  be  gratified  as 
we"?  And  then  we  should  agree  in  desiring,  that  our  Re- 
deemer's triumph  might  be  deferred,  that  his  body  might 
vet  remain  incomplete,  that  he  might  still  be  debarred  of 
the  long  expected  fruit  of  the  travail  of  his  soul,  that  the 
name  of  God  might  be  still  subjected  to  the  blasphemy 
and  reproach  of  an  atheistical  world,  who  have  all  along 
said  with  derision.  Where  is  the  promise  of  his  coming  1 
Would  we  have  all  his  designs  to  be  still  unfinished,  and 
so  mighty  wheels  stand  still  for  us,  while  we  sport  ourselves 
in  the  diist  of  the  earth,  and  indulge  our  sensual  inclina- 
tion, which  sure  this  bold  desire  must  argue  to  he  very 
predominant  in  us;  and  take  heed  it  argue  not  its  habitual 
prevalency.  At  least,  if  it  discover  not  our  present  sen- 
suality, it  "discovers  our  former  sloth  and  idleness.  It  may 
be,  we  may  excuse  our  averseness  to  die  by  our  unpre- 

q  Cant,  v-iii.  ^     .  .  . 

r  .'NI.  Aurel.  Ant.  de  Vit.  Sua,  1. 18.  airiSi  iXeuf  ot  aroAvuy  (Arcjf. 

g  Heb.  xi.  13,  16. 


27d 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  'J'HE  RIGHTEOUS. 


Ciup.  XX, 


paredness,  i.  e.  one  fault  with  another ;  though  that  be  be- 
sides the  case  I  am  speaking  of.  What  then  have  we 
been  doing  all  this  while  1  What !  were  the  affairs  of  thy 
soul  not  thought  of  till  now  '\  Take  then  thy  reproof  from 
a  heathen,  that  it  may  convince  thee  the  more:  "  No  one 
(saith  he)  '  divides  away  his  money  from  himself,  biU  yet 
men  divide  away  their  very  life. — But  doth  it  not  sliame 
thee  (he  after  adds)  to  reserve  only  the  relics  of  thy  life 
to  thyself,  and  to  devote  that  time  only  to  a  good  mind 
which  thou  canst  emjjloy  upon  no  other  thing  ;  How  late 
is  it  to  begin  to  live  when  we  should  make  an  end;  and 
defer  all  good  thoughts  to  such  an  age  as  possibly  few  do 
ever  reach  to.  The  truth  is  (as  he  speaks)  we  have  not 
little  time,  but  we  lose  much,  we  have  time  enough  were 
it  well  employed,  therefore  we  cannot  say  we  receive  a 
short  life,  but  we  make  it  so,  we  are  not  indigent  of  time, 
but  prodigal :  what  a  pretty  contradiction  is  it  to  complain 
of  the  shortness  of  time,  and  yet  do  what  we  can  to  pre- 
cipitate its  course  ;  to  hasten  it  by  that  we  call  pastime  ! 
If  it  have  been  so  with  thee,  art  thou  to  be  trusted  with 
more  time  1"  But  as  thy  case  is,  I  cannot  wonder  that 
the  thoughts  of  death  be  most  unwelcome  to  thee ;  who 
art  thou  that  thou  shouldst  desire  the  day  of  the  Lord  ?  I 
can  only  say  to  thee,  hasten  thy  preparation,  have  recourse 
to  rule  second,  and  third,  and  accordingly  guide  thy.self 
till  thou  find  thy  spirit  made  more  suitable  to  this  blessed- 
ness ;  that  it  become  savoury  and  grateful  to  thy  soul,  and 
thy  heart  be  set  upon  it.  Hence  thoumayst  be  reconciled 
to  the  grave,  and  the  thoughts  of  death  may  cease  to  be  a 
terror  to  thee. 

And  when  thou  art  attained  so  far,  consider  thy  great 
advantage  in  being  willing  and  desirous  to  die  upon  this 
further  account,  That  thy  desire  shall  now  be  pitched  upon 
a  thing  so  certain.  Thine  other  desires  have  met  with 
many  a  disappointment.  Thou  hast  set  thy  heart  upon 
other  things,  and  they  have  deceived  thy  most  earnest, 
thirsty  expectations.  Death  will  not  do  so.  Thou  wilt 
now  have  one  certain  hope  ;  one  thing  in  reference  whereto 
thou  mayst  say,  "  I  am  sure."  Wait  awhile,  this  peaceful 
sleep  will  shortly  seize  thy  body  and  awaken  thy  soul.  It 
will  calmly  period  all  thy  troubles,  and  bring  thee  to  a 
blessed  rest.  But  now,  if  only  the  mere  terror  and  gloom- 
iness of  dying  trouble  thy  thoughts,  this  of  all  othei  seems 
the  most  inconsiderable  pretence  against  a  willing  surren- 
der of  ourselves  to  neath.  Reason  hath  overcome  it,  natu- 
ral courage,  yea,  some  men's  atheism;  shall  not  faith '? 
Are  we  not  ashamed  to  consider,  what  confidence  and  de- 
sire of  death  some  heathens  have  expressed  1  Some  that 
have  had  no  pre-apprehension  or  belief  of  another  state, 
(though  there  were  very  few  of  them,)  and  so  no  hope  of  a 
consequent  blessedness  to  relieve  them,  have  yet  thought  it 
unreasonable  to  disgust  the  thoughts  of  death.  What 
wouldst  thou  think  if  thou  hadst  nothing  but  the  sophisms 
of  such  to  oppose  to  all  thy  dismal  thoughts  1  I  have  met 
with  one  "  arguing  thus,  "  Death,  which  is  accounted  the 
most  dreadful  of  all  evils,  is  nothing  to  us,  (saith  he,)  be- 
cause while  we  are  in  being  death  is  not  yet  present,  and 
when  death  is  present  we  are  not  in  being  ;  so  that  it  neither 
concerns  us,  as  living,  nor  dead ;  for  while  we  are  alive,  it 
hath  not  touched  us,  when  we  are  dead  we  are  not. — 
Moreover  (saith  he)  the  exquisite  knowledge  of  this,  that 
death  belongs  not  to  us,  makes  us  enjoy  this  mortal  life 
with  comfort ;  not  by  adding  any  thing  to  our  imcertain 
time,  but  by  taking  away  the  desire  of  immortality."  Shall 
they  comfort  themselves  upon  so  wretched  a  ground,  with 
a  little  sophistry,  and  the  hope  of  extinguishing  all  desire 
of  immortality  ;  and  shall  not  we,  by  cherishing  this  bless- 
ed hope  of  enjoying  shortly  an  immortal  glory  1 

Others  of  them  have  spoken  magnificently  of  a  certain 
contempt  of  this  bodily  life,  and  a  not  only  not  fearing 
but  desiring  to  die,  upon  a  fixed  apprehension  of  the  dis- 
tinct and  purer  and  immortal  nature  of  the  soul,  and  the 
preconceived  hope  of  a  consequent  felicity.  I  shall  set 
down  some  of  their  words,  added  to  what  have  been  occa- 
sionally mentioned,  (amongst  that  plentiful  variety  where- 

t  Sen.  u  Epicurus  in  Gassend.  Sjiit. 

X  Plato  in  Pliedone;  from  whom  I  adjoin  what  (to  tliem  that  understand 
it)  is  more  elegant  in  his  own  language :  oi/  i^rn  ayavaKTovvTa  ficXXovra 
anoOavetaOat  ovK  ap  <ptXoao(j>oi  aWa  ns  ^lAoooj^aros.  Ibid.  Ajpiwi" 
epojToiv. 

y  Porphyrius.    Plotinus  EnneaJ.  vii.  lib.  6.  whom,  though  a  just  admirer  of 


with  one  migni  fill  a  volume,)  purposely  to  shame  the 
more  terrene  temper  of  many  Chiistians. 

"  The  soul  (saith  one  of  them  ==)  is  an  invisible  thing, 
and  is  going  into  another  place,  suitable  to  itself,  that  is 
noble,  and  pure,  and  invisible,  even  into  hades,  indeed,  to 
the  good  and  whe  God,  whither  also  my  soul  shall  shortly 
go,  if  he  see  good.  But  this  (he  saith  in  what  follows)  be- 
longs only  to  such  a  soul  as  goes  out  of  the  body  pure, 
that  draws  nothing  corporeal  along  with  it,  did  not  will- 
ingly communicate  with  the  body  in  life,  but  did  even  fly 
from  it,  and  gather  up  itself  into  itself,  always  meditating 
this  one  thing.  A  soul  so  affected,  shall  it  not  go  to  some- 
thing like  itself,  divine,  (and  what  is  divine,  is  immortal 
and  wise,)  whither  when  it  comes,  it  becomes  blessed,  free 
from  error,  ignorance,  fears,  and  wild  or  enormous  loves, 
and  all  other  evils  incident  to  men." 

y  One  writing  the  life  of  that  rare  person  Plotinus,  says, 
That  he  seemed  as  if  he  were  in  some  sort  ashamed  that 
he  was  in  the  body ;  which,  (however  it  would  less  become 
a  Christian,  yet,)  in  one  that  knew  nothing  of  an  incarnate 
Redeemer,  it  discovered  a  refined,  noble  spirit.  The  same 
person  speaks  almost  the  language  of  the  apostle,  concern- 
ing his  being  wrapt  up  into  the  third  heaven,  and  tells  of 
such  an  alienation  of  the  soul  from  the  body :  "  That 
when  once  it  finds  God  (whom  he  had  before  been  speak- 
ing of  under  the  name  of  the  to  AoXof,  or  the  beauty)  shi- 
ning in  upon  it,  it  now  no  longer  feels  its  body,  or  lakes 
notice  of  its  being  in  the  body,  but  even  forgets  its  own 
being,  thai  it  is  a  man,  or  a  living  creature,  or  any  thing 
else  whatsoever,  for  it  is  not  at  leisure  to  mind  any  thing 
else,  nor  doth  it  desire  to  be:  yea, and  having  sought  him 
out,  he  immediately  meets  it  presenting  itself  to  him.  It 
only  views  him  instead  of  itself, — and  would  not  now 
change  its  state  for  any  thing,  not  if  one  could  give  it  the 
whole  heaven  in  exchange." 

"  And  elsewhere  discussing,  whether  life  in  the  body  be 
good  and  desirable,  yea  or  no,  he  concludes  it  to  be  good, 
not  as  it  is  a  union  of  the  soul  and  body,  but  as  it  may 
have  that  virtue  annexed  to  it,  by  which  what  is  really  evil 
may  be  kept  off'.  But  yet,  that  death  is  a  greater  good  : 
that  life  in  the  body  is  in  itself  evil ;  but  the  soul  is  by  vir- 
tue stated  in  goodness;  not  as  enlivening  the  body  with 
which  it  is  compounded,  but  as  it  severs  and  sejoins  itself 
from  it ;  meaning  so,  as  to  have  as  little  communion  as 
possibly  it  can  with  it."  To  which  purpose  is  the  expres- 
sion of  another:  "  Th  t  the  soul  of  a  happy  man  so  col- 
lects and  gathers  up  itself  out  from  the  bod}'  while  it  is 
yet  contained  in  it ; — and  that  it  was  possessed  of  that  for- 
titude, as  not  to  dread  its  departure  from  it."^ 

Another  gives  this  character  of  a  good  man :  "  That  as 
he  lived  in  simplicity,  tranquillity,  purity,  not  being  of- 
fended at  any  that  they  believed  him  not  to  live  so;  he 
also  comes  to  the  end  of  his  life,  pure,  quiet,  and^  easy  to 
be  dissolved,  disposing  himself  without  any  constraint  to 
his  lot."  Another  is  brought  in  speaking  thus:b  "  If  God 
should  grant  me  to  become  a  child  again,  to  send  forth 
my  renewed  infant  cries  from  my  cradle,  and  having  even 
run  out  my  race,  to  begin  it  again,  I  should  most  earnestly 
refuse  it;  for  what  profit  hath  this  life'?  and  how  much 
toil !  Yet  I  do  not  repent  that  I  have  lived,  because  I  hope 
that  I  have  not  lived  in  vain.  And  now  I  go  out  of  this 
life,  not  as  out  of  mv  dwelling-house,  but  my  inn.  O 
blessed  day  !  when  I  shall  enter  into  that  council  and  as- 
sembly of  souls,  and  depart  from  this  rude  and  disorderly 
rout  and  crew,"  &c. 

I  shall  add  another,  (of  a  not  much  unlike  strain"  and 
rank,  as  either  being  not  an  open,  or  no  constant  friend  to 
Christianity,)  that  discoursing  who  is  the  heir  of  divine 
things,  saith,  "  He  cannot  be,  who  is  in  love  with  this  ani- 
mal, sensitive  life  ;  but  only  that  purest  mind  that  is  in- 
spired from  above,  that  partakes  of  a  heavenly  and  divine 
portion,  that  oirly  d&spises  the  body,"«fcc.  with  much  more 
of  like  import. 

Yea,  so  have  some  been  tran.sported  with  the  desire  of 
immortality,  that  (being  wholly  ignorant  of  the  sin  of  self- 

hini,  would  fain  have  men  reckon  to  have  been  a  Christian,  because  he  writes 
much  against  the  pseudo-Cbristian  gnostics,  nothing  against  Chrislianity,  vet 
it  appears  not  be  ever  made  profession  of  it.     Ennead.  i.  lib.  7. 

z  Marin.  Proclus. 

a  EuXiirof.     M.  Aur.  Ant. 

b  Cato  in  Cicerone  do  Senect  c  Philo  Judajus. 


Chap.  XX. 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  THE  RIGHTEOUS. 


271 


murder)  they  could  not  forbear  doing  violence  on  them- 
selves. Among  the  Indians,(t  two  thousand  years  ago, 
were  a  sort  of  wise  men,  as  they  were  called,  that  held  it 
a  reproach  to  die  of  age,  or  a  disease,  and  were  wont  to 
burn  themselves  alive,  thinking  the  flames  were  polluted 
if  they  came  amidst  them  dead.  The  story  of  "Cleorn- 
brotus  is  famous,  who  hearing  Plato  discourse  of  the  im- 
mortality of  the  soul,  by  the  sea-side,  leaped  from  him  into 
the  sea,  that  he  might  presently  be  in  that  state.  And  'tis 
storied,  that  fNero  refused  to  put  ApoUonius  to  death, 
though  he  were  very  much  incensed  again.st  him,  only 
uj)on  the  apprehensions  he  had  that  he  was  very  desirous 
to  die,  because  he  would  not  so  far  gratify  him. 

I  only  make  this  improvement  of  all  this : — Christian 
principles  and  rules  do  neither  hurry  nor  mi.sguide  men, 
but  the  end  (as  we  have  it  revealed)  should  much  more 
powerfully  and  constantly  attract  us.  Nothing  is  more 
unsuitable  to  Christianity  our  way,  nor  to  that  blessedness 
the  end  of  it,  than  a  terrene  .spirit.  They  have  nothing  of 
the  true  light  and  impress  of  the  gospel  now,  nor  are  they 
ever  like  to  attain  the  vision  of  the  blessed  face  of  God, 
and  the  impress  of  his  likeness  hereafter,  that  desire  it  not 
above  all  things,  and  are  not  willing  lo  quit  all  thingselse  for 
it.  And  is  it  not  a  just  exprobation  of  our  earth liness  and 
carnality,  if  mere  philosophers  and  pagans  should  give 
better  proof  than  we  of  a  spirit  erected  above  the  world, 
and  alienated  from  what  is  temporary  and  terrene  1  Shall 
their  Gentilism  outvie  our  Christianity  1  Methinks  a  gene- 
rous indignation  of  this  reproach  should  inflame  our  souls, 
and  contribute  somewhat  to  the  refining  of  them  to  a  bet- 
ter and  more  spiritual  temper. 

Now,  therefore,  O  all  you  that  name  yourselves  by  that 
worthy  name  of  Christians,  that  profess  the  religion  taught 
by  l.im  that  was  not  of  the  earth,  earthly,  but  the  Lord 
from  heaven;  you  that  are  partakers  of  the  heavenly  call- 
ing, consider  the  great  Apostle  and  High  Priest  of  your 
profession,  who  only  took  our  flesh  that  we  might  partake 
of  his  Spirit,  bore  our  earthly,  that  we  might  bear  his 
heavenly  image,  descended  that  he  might  cause  us  to  as- 
cend. Seriously  bethink  yourselves  of  the  scope  and  end 
of  his  apostleship  and  priesthood.  He  was  sent  out  from 
God  to  invite  and  conduct  you  to  him,  to  bring  you  into 
the  communion  of  his  glory  and  blessedness.  He  came 
upon  a  message  and  treaty  of  peace  :  to  discover  his 
Father's  love  and  wi)i  yours:  to  let  you  know  how  kind 
thoughts  the  God  of  love  had  conceived  to  you-wards; 
and  that,  however  you  had  hated  him  without  cause,  and 
were  bent  to  do  so  without  end,  he  was  not  so  afl'ected  to- 
wards you :  to  settle  a  friendship,  and  to  admit  you  to 
the  participation  of  his  gloi}'.  Yea,  he  came  to  give  an 
instance,  and  exemplify  to  the  world,  in  his  own  person, 
how  much  of  heaven  he  could  make  to  dwell  in  mortal 
flesh ;  how  possible  he  could  render  it  to  live  in  this  world 
a.s  unrelated  to  it;  how  gloriously  the  divine  life  could 
triumph  over  all  the  infirmiiies  of  frail  humanity.  And  so 
leave  men  a  certain  proof  and  pledge  to  what  perfections 
human  nature  should  be  improved  by  his  grace  and  Spirit, 
in  all  them  that  should  resign  themselves  to  his  conduct, 
and  follow  his  steps;  that  heaven  and  earth  were  not  so 
far  asunder  but  he  knew  how  to  settle  a  commerce  and  in- 
tercourse between  them;  that  a  heavenly  life  M'as  possible 
to  be  transacted  here,  and  certain  to  be  gloriously  rewarded 
ajid  perfected  hereafter. 

And  having  testified  these  things,  he  seals  the  testi- 
mony, and  opens  the  way  for  the  accomplishment  of  ail 
by  his  death.  Your  heavenly  Apostle  becomes  a  Priest 
and  a  Sacrifice  at  once ;  that  no  doubt  might  remain 
among  men  of  his  sincerity,  in  what,  even  d3'ing,  he 
ceased  not  to  profess  and  avow.  And  that  by  his  own 
propitiatory  blood  a  mutual  reconciliation  might  be 
wroiight  between  God  and  you;  that  your  hearts  might 
be  won  to  him,  and  possessed  with  an  ingenuous  shame 
of  your  ever  having  been  his  enemies.  And  that  his  dis- 
pleasure might  ever  cease  towards  you,  and  be  turned  into 
everlasting  friendship  and  love:  that  eternal  redemption 
being  obtained,  heaven  might  be  opened  to  you,  and  you 
finally  be  received  to  the  glory  of  God;  your  hearts  being 
bent  thitherward,  and  made  willing  to  rim  through  what- 

d  a.  Curt,  lili  8.  e  Cicor  Qutest   TusciU. 

f  Scil.  Dominanus  aliquofica  ."iic  <lictu3.  Pliiloslr.  in  vit.  Apoil.  Tyxn^t. 


soever  difficulties  of  life  or  death  to  attain  it.  Do  not 
think  that  Christ  came  mio  the  world  and  died  to  procure 
the  pardon  of  your  sins,  and  so  translate  you  to  heaven 
while  your  hearts  should  still  remain  cleaving  lo  the  earth 
He  came  and  returned  to  prepare  a  way  for  you  ;  and  then 
call,  not  drag  you  thither  :  that  by  his  precepts,  and  pro- 
mises, and  example,  and  Spirit,  he  might  form  and  fashion 
your  souls  to  that  glorious  state;  and  make  you  willing  tc 
abandon  all  things  for  it.  And  lo!  now  the  God  of  all 
grace  is  calling  3'ou  by  Jesus  Christ  unto  his  eternal 
glory.  Direct  then  your  eyes  and  hearts  to  that  mark,  the 
prize  of  the  high  calling  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus.  'TLs 
ignominious,  by  the  common  sufi'rage  of  the  civilized 
world,  not  to  intend  the  proper  business  of  our  calling. 
'Tis  your  calling  to  forsake  this  world  and  mind  the  other; 
make  haste  then  to  quit  yourselves  of  your  entanglements, 
of  all  earthly  dispositions  and  affections.  Learn  to  live  in 
this  world  as  those  that  are  not  of  it,  that  expect  every  day, 
and  wish  to  leavo  it,  whose  hearts  are  gone  already. 

'Tis  dreadful  to  die  with  pain  and  regret;  to  be  forced 
out  of  the  body;  to  die  a  violent  deaih,  and  go  away  with 
an  unwilling  reluctant  heart.  The  wicked  is  driven  away 
in  his  wickedness.  Fain  he  would  stay  longer,  but  can- 
not. He  hath  not  power  over  the  spirit,  to  retain  the  spirit, 
nor  hath  he  power  in  death.  He  must  away  whether  he 
will  or  no.  And  indeed  much  against  his  will.  So  it 
cannot  but  be,  where  there  is  not  a  previous  knowledge 
and  love  of  a  better  state,  where  the  soul  understands  it 
not,  and  is  not  eflfectually  attempered  and  framed  to  it. 

O  get  then  the  lovely  image  of  the  future  glory  into 
your  minds.  Keep  it  ever  before  your  eyes.  Make  it 
familiar  to  your  thoughts.  Imprint  daily  there  these 
words,  I  shall  behold  thy  face,  I  shall  be  satisfied  with 
thy  likeness.  And  see  that  your  souls  be  enriched  with 
that  righteousness,  have  inwrought  into  them  that  holy 
rectitude,  that  may  dispose  them  to  that  blessed  state. 
Then  will  you  die  with  your  own  consent,  and  go  away, 
not  driven,  but  allured  and  drawn.  You  will  go,  as  the 
redeemed  of  the  Lord,  with  everlasting  joy  upon  their 
heads  ;  as  those  that  know  whither  you  go,  even  to  a  state 
infinitely  worthy  of  your  desires  and  choice,  and  where 
'tis  best  for  you  to  be.  You  will  part  with  your  souls, 
not  by  a  forcible  separation,  but  by  a  joyful  surrender  and 
resignation.  They  will  dislodge  from  this  earthly  taber- 
nacle, rather  as  putting  it  off" than  having  it  rent  and  torn 
away.  Loosen  yourselves  from  this  body  by  degrees,  as 
we  do  any  thing  we  would  remove  from  a  place  where  it 
sticks  fast.  Gather  up  your  spirits  into  themselves.  Teach 
them  to  look  upon  themselves  as  a  distinct  thing.  Inure 
them  to  the  thoughts  of  a  dissolution.  Be  continually  as 
taking  leave.  Cross  and  disprove  a  conmion  maxim, 
and  let  your  hearts,  which  they  use  to  say  are  wont  to  die 
last,  die  first.  Prevent  death,  and  be  mortified  towards 
every  earthly  thing  beforehand,  that  death  may  have  no- 
thing to  kill  but  your  body;  and  that  you  may  not  die  a 
double  death  in  one  hour,  and  suffer  the  death  of  your 
body  and  of  your  love  to  it  both  at  once.  Much  less  that 
this  should  survive  to  your  greater,  and  even  incurable, 
misery.  Shake  off  your  bands  and  fetters,  the  terrene 
aff^ections  that  so  closely  ronfine  you  to  the  house  of  your 
bondage.  And  lift  up  your  heads  in  expectation  of  the 
approaching  jubilee,  the  day  of  your  redemption  ;  when 
you  are  to  go  out  free,  and  enter  into  the  glorious  liberty 
of  the  sons  of  God  ;  when  you  shall  serve,  and  groan,  and 
complain  no  longer.  Let  it  be  your  continual  song,  and 
the  matter  of  your  daily  praise,  that  the  time  of  your  happy 
deliverance  is  hastening  on  ;  that  ere  long  you  shall  be 
absent  from  the  body,  and  present  with  the  Lord.  That 
he  hath  not  doomed  you  to  an  everla5ting  imprisonment 
within  those  close  and  clayey  walls,  wherein  you  have 
been  so  long  shut  up  from  the  beholding  of  his  sight  and 
glory.  In  (he  thoughts  of  this,  M-hile  the  outward  man 
is  sensibly  perishing,  let  the  inward  revive  and  be  renewed 
day  by  day.  "  What  prisoner  would  be  sorry  to  see  the 
walls  of  his  prison-house  (so  a  heathen  speaks?)  moulder- 
ing down,  and  the  hopes  arriving  to  him  of  being  delivered 
out  of  that  darknc'is  that  had  buried  him,  of  recovering  his 
liberty,  and  enjoying  the  free  air  and  light.  What  cham- 
e  Max.  TjT  Dissert.  41. 


272 


THE  BLESSEDNESS  OF  I'HE  RIGHTEOUS. 


Chap.  XX. 


pion  inured  to  hardship,  would  stick  to  throw  ofi  rotten 
rags,  and  rather  expose  a  naked,  placid,  free  body,  to  naked, 
placid,  free  air  1  The  truly  generous  soul  (so  he  a  little 
above)  never  leaves  the  body  against  its  will."  Rejoice 
that  it  is  the  gracious  pleasure  of  thy  good  God,  thou 
shalt  not  always  inhabit  a  dungeon,  nor  lie  amidst  so  im- 
pure and  disconsolate  darkness ;  that  he  will  shortly  ex- 


change thy  filthy  garments  for  those  of  salvation  and  praise. 
The  end  approaches.  As  you  turn  over  these  leaves,  so 
are  your  days  turned  over.  And  as  you  are  now  arrived 
to  the  end  of  this  book,  God  will  shortly  write /wis  to  the 
book  of  your  life  on  earth,  and  show  you  your  names 
written  in  heaven,  in  the  book  of  that  life  which  shall 
never  end. 


THE 


VANITY    OF     THIS     MORTAL    LIFE; 


OF  MAN,  CONSIDERED  IN  HIS  PRESENT  MORTAL  STATE. 


TO  THE  DESERVEDLY  HONOURED 

JOHN   UPTON,  OF   LUPTON,   ESCt- 

WITH  THE  MANY  SURVIVING  BRANCHES  THAI   FORMERLY  SPRUNG  OUT  OF  THAT  RELIGIOUS  FAMILY,  AND  THE  WORTHY 

CONSORTS  OF  ANY  OF  THEM. 

Since  it  is  the  lot  of  the  following  pages  to  be  exposed  to  public  view,  there  is  somewhat  of  justice  in  it,  to  yourselves 
or  me,  that  the  world  do  also  know  wherein  divers  of  you  have  contributed  thereto;  that  if  anything  redound  hence 
to  public  advantage,  it  may  be  understood  to  be  owing  in  part  to  you;  or  if  it  shall  be  reckoned  a  useless  trouble,  in 
this  way  to  represent  things  so  obvious  to  common  notice,  and  whereof  so  much  is  already  said,  all  the  blame  to  the 
publication  be  not  imputed  (as  it  doth  not  belong)  to  me  only.  But  I  must  here  crave  your  excuse,  that,  on  this  ac- 
count, I  give  you  a  narrative  of  what  (for  the  most  part)  you  already  know,  and  may  possibly  not  delight  to  remem- 
ber; both  because  it  is  now  become  convenient  that  others  should  know  it  too,  and  not  necessary  to  be  put  into  a  dis- 
tinct preface ;  and  because  to  yourselves  the  review  of  those  less  pleasing  passages  may  be  attended  with  a  fruit  which 
may  be  some  recompense  for  their  want  of  pleasure. 

Therefore  give  the  reader  leave  to  take  notice,  and  let  it  not  be  grievous  to  you  that  I  remind  you,  that  after  this 
}our  near  relation*  (whose  death  gave  the  occasion  of  the  ensuing  meditations)  had  from  his  youth  lived  between 
twenty  and  thirty  years  of  his  age  in  Spain,  your  joint  importunity  had  at  length  obtained  from  him  a  promise  of  re- 
turning; whereof,  when  you  were  in  somewhat  a  near  expectation,  a  sudden  disease  in  so  few  days  landed  him  in 
another  world,  that  the  first  notice  you  had  of  his  death  or  sickness,  was  by  the  arrival  of  that  vessel  (clad  in  mourn- 
ing attire)  which,  according  to  his  own  desire  in  his  sickness,  brought  over  the  deserted  body  to  its  native  place  of 
Lupton;  that  thence  it  might  find  a  grave,  where  it  first  received  a  soul ;  and  obtain  a  mansion  in  the  earth,  where 
first  it  became  one  to  a  reasonable  spirit.  A  little  before  this  time,  the  desire  of  an  interview  among  yourselves  (which 
the  distance  of  your  habitations  permitted  not  to  be  frequent)  had  induced  divers  of  you  to  appoint  a  meeting  at  some 
middle  place,  whereby  the  trouble  of  a  long  journey  might  be  conveniently  shared  among  you.  But,  before  that 
agreed  resolution  could  have  its  accomplishment,  this  sad  and  most  unexpected  event  intervening,  altered  the  place, 
the  occasion,  and  design  of  your  meeting;  but  eflected  the  thing  itself,  and  brought  together  no  less  than  twentv,  the 
brothers  and  sisters  of  the  deceased,  or  their  consorts,  besides  his  many  nepheM-s  and  nieces  and  other  relations,  "to  the 
mournful  solemnity  of  the  interment.  Within  the  time  of  our  being  together  upon  this  sad  account,  this  passage  of 
the  Psalmist  here  insisted  on,  came  into  discourse  among  us;  being  introduced  by  an  occasion,  which  (though  then, 
it  may  be  unknown  to  the  most  of  you)  was  somewhat  rare,  and  not  unworthy  observation  ;  viz.  that  one  of  your- 
selves having  been  some  time  before  surprised  with  an  unusual  sadness,  joined  with  an  expectation  of  ill  tidings, 
upon  no  known  cause,  had  so  urgent  an  inculcation  of  these  words,  as  not  to  be  able  to  forbear  the  revolving  them 
much  of  the  former  part  of  that  day,  in  the  latter  part  whereof  the  first  notice  was  brought  to  that  place  of  this  so 
near  a  relation's  decease. 

Certain  months  after,  some  of  you  with  whom  I  was  then  conversant  in  London,  importuned  me  to  have  somewhat 
from  me  in  writing  upon  that  subject.  Whereto  I  at  length  agreed,  with  a  cautionary  request,  that  it  might  not  come 
into  many  hands,  but  might  remain  (as  the  occasion  was)  among  yourselves.  Nor  will  I  deny  it  to  have  been  some 
inducement  to  me  to  apply  my  thoughts  to  that  theme,  that  it  had  been  so  suggested  as  was  said.  For  such  presages  and 
abodings,  as  that  above  mentioned,  may  reasonably  be  thought  to  owe  themselves  to  some  more  steady  and  univer- 
sal principle  than  casualty  or  the  party's  own  imagination  :  by  whose  more  noble  recommendation  (that  such  a  gloomy 
premonition  might  carry  with  it  not  what  should  only  afflict,  but  also  instruct  and  teach)  this  subject  did  seem  oflered 
to  our  meditation.  Accordingly,  therefore,  after  my  return  to  the  place  of  my  abode,  I  hastily  drew  up  the  substance 
of  the  following  discourse  ;  which,  a  year  ago,  I  transmitted  into  their  hands  who  desired  it  from  me,  without  reserving 
to  myself  any  copy.  Hereby  it  became  diihcult  to  me  presently  to  comply  (besides  divers  considerations  I  might  have 
against  the  thing  itself)  with  that  joint  request  of  some  of  you,  (in  a  letter,  which  my  removal  into  another  kingdom 
occasioned  to  come  long  after  to  my  hands,)  that  I  would  consent  these  papers  might  be  made  public.  For  as  1  have 
reason  to  be  conscious  to  myself  ofdisadvantages  enough  to  discourage  any  undertaking  of  that  kind;  so  I  am  more 

*  Mr.  Anthony  Upton,  the  son  of  John  L'pton,  of  Lupton,  Esq. 


274  THE  EPISTLE  DEDICATORY. 

especially  sensible,  that  so  cursory  and  superficial  a  management  of  a  subject  so  important,  (though  its  private  occasion 
and  design  at  first  might  render  it  excusable  to  those  few  friends  for  whom  it  was  meant,)  cannot  but  be  liable  to  the 
hard  censure  (not  to  say  contempt)  of  many  whom  discourses  of  this  kind  should  more  designedly  serve.  And  there- 
fore, though  my  willingness  to  be  serviceable  in  keeping  alive  the  apprehension  and  expectation  of  another  slate,  my 
value  of  your  judgments  who  conceive  what  is  here  done  may  be  useful  thereto,  and  my  peculiar  respects  to  your- 
selves, the  members  and  appendants  of  a  family  to  which  (besides  some  relation)  I  have  many  obligations  and  endear- 
ments, do  prevail  with  me  not  wholly  to  deny;  yet  pardon  me  that  I  have  suspended  my  consent  to  this  publication, 
till  I  should  have  a  copy  transmitted  to  me  from  some  of  you,  for  m)^  necessary  view  of  so  hasty  a  production,  that  I 
might  not  offer  to  the  view  of  the  world,  what,  after  I  had  penned  it,  had  scarce  passed  my  own.  And  now,  after  so 
long  an  expectation,  those  papers  are  but  this  last  week  come  to  my  hands :  I  here  return  them  with  little  or  no  alte- 
ration ;  save,  that  what  did  more  directly  concern  the  occasion,  towards  the  close,  is  transferred  hiiher ;  but  with  the 
addition  of  almost  all  the  directive  part  of  the  use :  which  I  submit  together  to  your  pleasure  and  dispose. 

And  I  shall  now  take  the  liberty  to  add,  my  design  in  consenting  to  this  request  of  yours  (and  I  hope  the  same  of 
you  in  making  it)  is  not  to  erect  a  monument  to  the  memory  of  the  deceased,  (which  how  little  doth  it  signify  !)  nor  to 
spread  the  fame  of  your  family ;  (though  the  visible  blessing  of  God  upon  it,  in  the  fruitfulness,  piety,  and  mutual  love, 
wherein  it  hath  flourished  for  some  generations,  do  challenge  observation,  both  as  to  those  branches  of  it  which  grow 
in  their  own  more  natural  soil,  and  those,  as  I  have  now  occasion  to  take  further  notice,  that  I  find  to  have  been  trans- 
planted into  another  country ;)  but  that  such  into  whose  hands  this  little  treatise  shall  fall,  may  be  induced  to  consider 
the  true  end  of  their  beings;  to  examine  and  discuss  the  matter  more  thoroughly  with  themselves,  what  it  may  or  can 
be  supposed  such  a  sort  of  creatures  was  made  and  placed  on  this  earth  for :  that  when  they  shall  have  reasoned  them- 
selves into  a  settled  apprehension  of  the  worthy  and  important  ends  they  are  capable  of  attaining,  and  are  visibly  de- 
signed to,  they  may  be  seized  with  a  noble  disdain  of  living  beneath  themselves  and  the  bounty  of  their  Creator. 

It  is  obvious  to  common  observation,  how  flagrant  and  intense  a  zeal  men  are  often  want  to  express  for  their  per- 
sonal reputation,  the  honour  of  their  families,  yea,  or  for  the  glory  of  their  nation  :  but  how  few  are  acted  by  that 
more  laudable  and  enlarged  zeal  for  the  dignity  of  mankind  !  How  few  are  they  that  resent  the  common  and  vile 
depression  of  their  own  species  !  Or  that,  while  in  things  of  lightest  consideration  they  strive  with  emulous  endeavour, 
that  they  and  their  relatives  may  excel  other  men,  do  reckon  it  a  reproach  if  in  matters  of  the  greatest  consequence 
they  and  all  men  should  not  excel  beasts!  How  few  that  are  not  contented  to  confine  their  utmost  designs  and  ex- 
pectations within  the  same  narrow  limits  !  through  a  mean  and  inglorious  self-despiciency  confessing  in  themselves 
(to  the  truth's  and  their  own  wrong)  an  incapacity  of  greater  things  ;  and  with  most  iry'urious  falsehood,  proclaiming 
the  same  of  all  mankind  besides. 

If  he  that  amidst  the  hazards  of  a  dubious  war  betrays  the  interest  and  honour  of  his  country  be  justly  infamous, 
and  thought  worthy  severest  punishments  ;  I  see  not  why  a  debauched  sensualist,  that  lives  as  if  he  were  created  only 
to  indulge  his  appetite  ;  that  so  vilifies  the  notion  of  man,  as  if  he  were  made  but  to  eat,  and  drink,  and  sport,  to 
please  only  his  sense  and  fancy  ;  that  in  this  time  and  state  of  conflict  between  the  powers  of  this  present  world,  and 
those  of  the  world  to  come,  quits  his  party,  bids  open  defiance  to  humanity,  abjures  the  noble  principle  and  ends,  for- 
sakes the  laws  and  society  of  all  that  are  worthy  to  be  esteemed  men,  abandons  the  common  and  rational  hope  of 
mankind  concerning  a  future  immortality,  and  herds  himself  among  brute  creatures ;  I  say,  I  see  not  why  such  a 
one  should  not  be  scorned  and  abhorred  as  a  traitor  to  the  whole  race  and  nation  of  reasonable  creatures  as  a  fugitive 
from  the  tents,  and  deserter  of  the  common  interest  of  men  ;  and  that  both  for  the  vileness  of  his  practice,  and  the 
danger  of  his  example. 

And  who,  that  hath  open  eyes,  beholds  not  the  dreadful  instances  and  increase  of  this  defection  1  When  it  hath 
prevailed  to  that  degree  already,  that  in  civilized,  yea,  in  Christian  countries,  (as  they  yet  affect  to  be  called,)  the 
practice  is  become  fashionable  and  in  credit,  which  can  square  with  no  other  principle  than  the  disbelief  of  a  future 
state,  as  if  it  were  but  a  mere  poetic  or  (at  best)  a  political  fiction.  And  as  if  so  impudent  infidelity  would  pretend 
not  to  a  connivance  only  but  a  sanction,  'tis  reckoned  an  odd  and  uncoiUh  thing  for  a  man  to  live  as  if  he  thought 
otherwise;  and  a  great  presumption  to  seem  to  dissent  from  the  profane  infidel  crew.  As  if  the  matter  -were  already 
formally  determined  in  the  behalf  of  irreligion,  and  the  doctrine  of  the  life  to  come  had  been  clearly  condemned  in 
open  council  as  a  detestable  heresy.  For  what  tenet  was  ever  more  exploded  and  hooted  at,  than  that  practice  is 
which  alone  agrees  with  this  1  Or  what  series  or  course  of  repeated  villanies  can  ever  be  more  ignominious  than  (in 
vulgar  estimate)  a  course  of  life  so  transacted  as  doth  become  the  expectation  of  a  blessed  immortality  1  And  what, 
after  .so  much  written  and  spoken  by  persons  of  all  times  and  religions  for  the  immortality  of  the  human  soul,  and  so 
common  an  acknowledgment  thereof  by  pagans,  Mahomedans,  Jews,  and  Christians,  is  man  now  at  last  condemned 
and  doomed  to  a  perpetual  death,  as  it  were,  by  the  consent  and  suff'rage  even  of  men  ;  and  that  too  without  trial  or 
hearing ;  and  not  by  the  reason  of  men,  but  their  lusts  only"?  As  if  (with  a  loud  and  violent  cry)  they  would  assas- 
sinate and  stifle  this  belief  and  hope,  but  not  judge  it.  And  shall  the  matter  be  thus  given  up  as  hopeless  ;  and  the 
victory  be  yielded  to  prosperous  wickedness,  and  a  too  successful  conspiracy  of  vile  miscreants  against  both  their 
Maker  and  their  own  stock  and  race1 

One  would  think  whosoever  have  remaining  in  them  any  conscience  of  obligation  and  duty  to  the  common  Parent 
and  Author  of  our  beings,  and  remembrance  of  our  divine  original,  any  breathings  of  our  ancient  hope,  any  sense  of 
human  honour,  any  resentments  of  so  vile  an  indignity  to  the  nature  of  man,  any  spark  of  a  just  and  generous  indig- 
nation for  so  opprobrious  a  contumely  to  their  own  kind  and  order  in  the  creation,  should  oppose  themselves  with  an 
heroic  vigor  to  this  treacherous  and  unnatural  combination.  And  let  us  (my  worthy  friends)  be  provoked,  in  our 
several  capacities,  to  do  our  parts  herein  ;  and,  at  least,  .so  to  live  and  converse  in  this  world,  that  the  course  and  tenor 
of  our  lives  may  import  an  open  asserting  of  our  hopes  in  another  ;  and  maj'  let  men  see  we  are  not  ashamed  to  own 
the  belief  of  a  life  to  come.  Let  us  by  a  patient  continuance  in  well-doing  (how  low  designs  soever  others  content 
themselves  to  pursue)  seek  honour,  glory,  and  immortality  to  ourselves  ;  and  by  our  avowed,  warrantable  ambition 
in  this  pursuit,  justify  our  great  and  bountiful  Creator,  who  hath  made  us  not  in  vain,  but  for  so  high  and  great 
things;  and  glorify  our  blessed  Redeemer,  who  amidst  the  gloomy  and  disconsolate  darkness  of  this  wretched  world, 
when  it  was  overspread  with  the  shadow  of  death,  hath  brought  life  and  immortality  to  light  in  the  Gospel.  Let  us 
labour  both  to  feel  and  express  the  power  of  that  religion  which  hath  the  inchoation  of  the  (participated)  divine  life 
for  its  principle,  and  the  perfection  and  eternal  perpetuation  thereof  for  its  scope  and  end. 

Nor  let  the  time  that  hath  since  elapsed  be  found  to  have  worn  out  with  you  the  useful  impressions  which  this 
monitory  .surprising  instance  of  our  mortality  did  first  make.  But  give  me  leave  to  inculcate  from  it  what  was  said  to 
you  when  the  occasion  was  fresh  and  new :  that  we  labour  more  deeply  to  apprehend  God's  dominion  over  his  crea- 
tures; and  that  he  made  us  principally  for  himself,  and  for  ends  that  are  to  be  compassed  in  the  future  state  ;  and  not 
for  the  temporary  satisfiiction  and  pleasure  of  one  another  in  this  world.  Otherwise  providence  had  never  been  guilty 
of  such  a  solecism,  to  take  out  one  from  a  family  long  famous  for  its  exemplary  mutual  love,  and  dispose  him  into  so 
remote  a  part,  not  permitting  to  most  of  his  near  relations  the  enjoyment  of  him  for  almost  thirty  years  (and  therein  all 
the  flower)  of  hi.5  age,  and  at  last  when  we  were  expecting  the  man,  send  you  home  the  breathless  frame  wherein  he 


J 


THE  VANITY  OF  MAN  AS  MORTAL, 


2-^5 


lived.  Yet  it  was  not  contemptible  thai  you  had  that,  and  that  dyin;?(as  Joseph) in  a  strange  land,  he  gave  also  com- 
mandment concerning  his  bones;  that  though  in  his  life  he  was  (n)ostly)  separated  from  his  brethren,  he  mit'ht  in 
death  be  gathered  to  his  fathers.  It  was  some  evidence  (though  you  wanted  not  better)  that  amidst  the  traffic  of  Spain 
he  more  esteemed  the  religion  of  England,  and  therefore  would  rather  his  dust  should  associate  with  theirs,  with 
whom  also  he  would  rather  his  spirit  should.  But  whatever  it  did  evidence,  it  occasioned  so  much,  that  you  had  that 
so  general  meeting  with  one  another,  which  otherwise  probably  you  would  not  have  had,  nor  are  likely  again  to 
have,  (so  hath  Providence  scattered  you,)  in  this  woild ;  and  that  it  proved  a  more  serious  meeting  than  otherwise  it 
might:  for  however  it  might  blamelessly  have  been  designed  to  have  met  together  at  a  cheerful  table,  God  saw  it 
fitter  to  order  the  meeting  at  a  mournful  grave;  and  to  make  the  house  that  received  you  (the  native  place  to  many 
of  you)  the  house  of  mourning  rather  than  of  feasting.  The  one  would  have  had  more  quick  relishes  of  a  present 
pleasure,  hut  the  other  was  likely  to  yield  the  more  lasting  sense  of  an  after  profit.  Nor  was  it  an  ill  errand  to  come 
together  (though  from  afar  for  divers  of  you)  to  learn  to  die.  As  you  might,  by  being  so  sensibly  put  in  mind  of  it, 
though  you  did  not  see  that  very  part  acted  itself.  And  accept  this  endeavour,  to  further  you  in  your  preparations 
for  thatchange,  as  some  testimony  of  the  remembrance  I  retain  of  your  most  obliging  respects  and  love,  and  of  my 
still  continuing 


Your  affectionate  and  respectful  kinsman, 

and  servant  in  our  common  Lord 


J.  HOWE. 


Antrim, 
April  12,  1671, 


THE 


VANITY   OF  MAN  AS   MORTAL 


PSAL.  LXXXIX.  47,  48. 


REMEMBER   HOW  SHORT  MY  TIME  IS  :    WHEREFORE    HAST   THOU    MADE    ALL    MEN  IN  VAIN.       WHAT  MAN  IS  HE  THAT  LIVETH,  AND 
SHALL  NOT  SEE  DEATH  1       SHALL  HE  DELIVER  HIS  SOUL  FROM  THE  HAND  OF  THE  GRAVE  1       SELAH. 


We  are  not  concerned  to  be  particular  and  curious  in 
the  inquiry,  touching  the  special  reference  or  occasion  of 
the  foregoing  complaints,  from  the  37th  verse.  It  is  enough 
to  take  notice,  for  our  present  purpose,  that  besides  the 
evil  which  had  already  befallen  the  plaintiff,  a  further 
danger  nearly  threatened  him,  that  carried  death  in  the 
face  of  it,  and  suggested  somewhat  frightful  apprehensions 
of  his  mortal  state,  which  drew  from  him  this  quick  and 
sensible  petition  in  reference  to  his  own  private  concern, 
"Remember  how  short  my  time  is,"  and  did  presently  di- 
rect his  eye  with  a  sudden  glance  from  the  view  of  his 
own.  to  reflect  on  the  common  condition  of  man,  whereof 
he  expresses  his  resentment,  first,  in  a  hasty  expostulation 
with  God,  "  Wherefore  hast  thou  made  all  men  in  vain  V 
— Then,  secondly,  in  a  pathetic  discourse  with  himself, 
representing  the  reason  of  that  rough  charge,  "  What 
man  is  he  that  liveth,  and  shall  not  see  death  7  shall  he 
deliver,"  &c.  q.  cl.  When  I  add  to  the  consideration  of  my 
short  time,  that  of  dying  mankind,  and  behold  a  dark  and 
deadly  shade  universally  overspreading  the  world,  the 
whole  species  of  human  creatures  vanishing,  quitting  the 
stage  round  about  me,  and  disappearing  almost  as  soon  as 
they  showMhemselves;  have  I  not  a  fair  and  plausible 
ground  for  that  (seemingly  rude)  challenge  1  Why  is 
there  so  unaccountable  a  phenomenon,  such  a  creature 
made  to  no  purpose  1  the  noblest  part  of  this  inferior  cre- 
ation brought  forth  into  being  without  any  imag-inable  de- 
sign 1  I  know  not  how  to  untie  the  knot,  upon  this  only 
view  of  the  case,  or  avoid  the  absurdity.  'Tis  hard  sure 
to  design  the  supposal,  (of  what  it  may  yet  seem  hard  to 
suppose,)  that  all  men  were  made  in  vain. 

It  appears,  the  expostulation  was  somewhat  passionate, 
and  did  proceed  upon  the  sudden  view  of  this  disconsolate 


case,  very  abstractly  considered,  and  by  iteslf  only :  and 
that  he  did  not  in  that  instant  look  bej'ond  it  to  a  better 
and  more  comfortable  scene  of  things.  An  eye  bleared 
with  present  sorrow,  sees  not  so  far,  nor  comprehends  so 
much  at  one  view,  as  it  would  at  another  time,  or  as  it 
doth,  presently,  when  the  tear  is  wiped  out,  and  its  own 
beams  have  cleared  it  up.  We  see  he  did  quickly  look 
further,  and  had  got  a  more  lightsome  prospect,  when  in 
the  next  words  we  find  him  contemplating  God's  "  sworn 
loving-kindness  unto  David :  the  truth  and  stability 
whereof  he  at  the  same  time  expressly  acknowledges,  while 
only  the  form  of  his  speech  doth  but  seem  to  import  a 
doubt — "  Where  are  they  1"  But  yet — they  were  sworn  in 
truth.  Upon  which  argument  he  had  much  enlarged  in  the 
former  part  of  the  psalm  ;  and  it  still  lay  deep  in  hissoul, 
though  he  were  now  a  little  diverted  from  the  present  con- 
sideration of  it.  Which,  since  it  turns  the  scales  with  him, 
it  will  be  needful  to  inquire  into  the  weight  and  import  of 
it.  Nor  have  we  any  reason  to  think,  that  David  was 
either  so  little  a  prophet  or  a  saint,  as  in  his  own  thoughts 
to  refer  those  magnificent  things  (the  instances  of  that 
loving-kindness,  confirmed  by  oath,  which  he  recites  from 
the  19th  verse  of  the  psalm  to  the  38ih,  as  spoken  from  the 
motxth  of  God,  and  declared  to  him  by  vision)  to  the  dig- 
nity of  his  own  person,  and  the  grandeur  and  perpetuity 
of  his  kingdom ;  as  if  it  were  ultimately  meant  of  himself, 
that  God  would  b  make  him  his  first-born,  higher  than  the 
kings  of  the  earth, when  there  were  divers  greater  kings, and 
(in  comparison  of  the  little  spot  over  which  he  reigned)  a 
vastly  spreading  monarchy  that  still  overtopped  him  aJl 
his  time;  (as  the  same  and  successive  monarchies  did  his 
successors;)  or  that  it  was  intended  of  the  secular  glory 
and  stability  of  his  throne  and  family ;  that  God  would 


276 


THE  VANITY  OF  MAN  AS  MORTAL. 


luake  them  «=to  endure  for  ever,  and  be  as  the  days  of  hea- 
ven ;  that  they  should  be  as  the  sun  before  him,  and  be  es- 
tablished forever  as  the  moon,  and  as  a  faithful  witness  in 
heaven. 

That  God  himself  meant  it  not  so,  experience  and  the 
event  of  things  hath  shown ;  and  that  these  predictions 
cannot  otherwise  have  had  their  accomplishment,  than  in 
the  succession  of  the  spiritual  and  everlasting  kingdom  of 
the  Messiah  (^whom  God  raised  up  out  of  his  loins  to  sit 
on  his  throne)  unto  his  temporal  kingdom.  Wherein  'tis 
therefore  ended  by  perfection  rather  than  corruption. 
These  prophecies  being  then  made  good,  not  in  the  kind 
which  they  literally  imported,  but  in  another  (far  more 
noble)  kind.  In  which  sense  God's  covenant  with  him 
must  be  understood,  which  he  insists  on  so  much  in  this 
psalm, ^  even  unto  that  degree,  as  to  challenge  God  upon 
it,  as  if  in  the  present  course  of  his  providence  he  were 
now  about  to  make  it  void  :  though  he  suflicienlly  express- 
es his  confideucef  both  before  and  after,  that  this  could 
never  be.  But  'tis  plain  it  hath  been  made  void  long 
enough  ago,  in  the  subversion  of  David's  kingdom,  and  in 
that  we  see  his  throne  and  family  not  been  established  for 
ever,  not  endured  as  the  days  of  heaven  ;  if  those  words 
had  no  other  than  their  obvious  and  literal  meaning.  And 
if  any,  to  clear  the  truth  of  God,  would  allege  the  wick- 
edness of  his  posterity,  first  making  a  breach  and  disoblig- 
ing him,  this  is  prevented  by  what  we  find  inserted  in  re- 
ference to  this  very  case:  ^If  his  children  forsake  my  law, 
and  walk  not  in  my  judgments,  &c.  Then  will  I  visit 
their  iniquity  with  the  rod,  &c.  Nevertheless  my  loving- 
kindness  will  I  not  ujterly  take  from  him,  nor  suffer  my 
faithfulness  to  fail.  My  covenant  will  I  not  break,  nor 
alter  the  thing  that  is  gone  out  of  my  lips.  All  which  is 
solemnly  sealed  up  with  this,  hOncc  have  I  sworn  in  my 
holiness,  that  I  will  not  lie  unto  David.  So  that,  they  that 
will  make  a  scruple  to  accuse  the  holy  God  of  falsehood, 
in  that  which  with  so  much  solemnity  he  hath  promised 
and  sworn,  must  not  make  any  to  admit  his  further  in- 
tendment in  these  words.  And  that  he  had  a  further 
(even  a  mystical  and  spiritual)  intendment  in  this  cove- 
nant with  David,  is  yet  more  fully  evident  from  that  of 
the  prophet  Isaiah  :  sHo  every  one  that  thirsteth,  come  ye 
to  the  waters,  <fec.  Incline  your  ear  and  come  to  me.  And 
I  will  make  an  everlasting  covenant  with  3'ou,  even  the 
sure  mercies  of  David.  Behold,  I  have  given  him  for  a 
witness  to  the  people,  a  leader  and  commander,  &c.  What 
means  this  universal  invitation  to  all  thirsty  persons,  with 
the  subjoined  encouragement  of  making  with  them  an 
everlasting  covenant,  (the  same  which  we  have  here,  no 
doubt,  as  to  the  principal  parts,  and  which  we  find  him 
mentioning  also,  2  Sam.  xxiii.  5.  with  characters  exactly 
corresponding  to  these  of  the  prophet,)  even  the  sure  mer- 
cies of  David  7  The  meaning  sure  could  not  be,  that 
they  should  be  all  secular  kings  and  princes,  and  their 
posterity  after  them  for  ever ;  which  we  see  is  the  verbal 
sound  and  tenor  of  this  covenant. 

And  now  since  it  is  evident  God  intended  a  mystery  in 
this  covenant,  we  may  be  as  well  assured  he  intended  no 
deceit,  and  that  he  designed  not  a  delusion  to  David  by 
the  vision  in  which  he  gave  it.  Can  we  think  he  went 
about  to  gratify  him  with  a  solemn  fiction,  and  draw  him 
into  a  false  and  fanciful  faith ;  or  so  to  hide  his  meaning 
from  him,  as  to  tempt  him  into  the  belief  of  what  he  never 
meant  1  And  to  what  purpose  was  this  so  special  revela- 
tion by  vision,  if  it  were  not  to  be  understood  truly,  at 
least,  if  not  yet  perfectly  and  fully  1  It  is  left  us  therefore 
to  collect  that  David  was  not  wholly  uninstructed  how  to 
refer  all  this  to  the  kingdom  of  the  Messiah.  And  he  hath 
given  sufficient  testimony  in  that  part  of  sacred  writ, 
whereof  God  used  him  as  a  penman,  that  he  was  of 
another  temper  than  to  place  the  sum  and  chief  of  his  ex- 
pectations and  consolations  in  his  own  and  his  posterity's 
worldly  greatness.  And  to  put  us  out  of  doubt,  our  Sa- 
viour (who  well  knew  his  spirit)expressly  enough  tells  us, 
tiiat  khe  in  spirit  called  him  Lord,  when  he  said,  iThe 
Lord  said  unto  my  Lord,  Sit  thou  at  my  right  hand,  till  I 
make  thy  enemies  thy  foot-stool.     A  plain  discovery  how 


c  Verse  29,  36,  37. 

d  Acts  ii.  30. 

e  Verse  28—34. 

I  Psal.  c.T. 

f  Verse  39. 

g  Verse  30—34. 
k  Matt.  xxji. 

Ii  Verse  35. 

n  Vorse  25 

ilsa.  Iv.  1-6. 

p  Verse  31 

he  understood  God's  revelation  touching  the  future  con- 
cernments of  his  kingdom, (and  the  covenant  relating  there- 
to,) viz.  as  a  figure  and  type  of  Christ's,  who  must  reign 
till  all  his  enemies  be  subdued.  Nor  was  he  in  that  igno- 
rance about  the  nature  and  design  of  Christ's  kingdom, 
but  that  he  understood  its  reference  to  another  world,  and 
siate  of  things,  even  beyond  all  the  successions  of  time,  and 
the  mortal  race  of  men ;  so  as  to  have  his  eye  fixed  upon 
the  happy  eternity  which  a  joyful  resurrection  must  intro- 
duce, and  whereof  Christ's  resurrection  should  be  the  great 
and  most  assuring  pledge.  And  of  this  we  need  no  fuller 
an  evidence  than  the  express  words  of  the  apostle  St.  Pe- 
ter,>n  who  after  he  had  cited  those  lofty  triumphant  strains 
of  David,  Psal.  xvi.  8 — 11.  I  have  set  the  Lord  always 
before  me  :  because  he  is  at  my  right  hand,  I  shall  not  be 
moved.  Therefore  my  heart  is  glad,  and  my  glory  re- 
joiceth  :  my  flesh  also  shall  rest  in  hope.  For  thou  wilt 
not  leave  my  soul  in  hell,  (or  in  the  state  of  darkness,) 
neither  wilt  thou  suffer  thy  Holy  One  to  see  corruption. 
Thou  wilt  show  me  the  path  of  life.  In  thy  presence  is 
fulness  of  joy,  at  thy  right  hand  there  are  pleasures  for 
evermore.  All  which,  he  tells  us,  "was  spoken  concern- 
ing Christ.  He  more  expressly  subjoins,"  that  David  be- 
ing a  prophet,  and  knowing  that  God  had  sworn  with  an 
oath  to  him,  that  of  the  fruit  of  his  loins,  according  to 
the  flesh,  he  would  raise  up  Christ  to  sit  on  his  throne. 
He  seeing  this  before,  spake  of  Pthe  resurrection  of  Christ, 
(it  appears  he  spake  not  at  random,  but  as  knowing  and 
seeing  before  what  he  spake,)  that  his  soul  was  not  left  in 
hell,  &c.  nor  can  we  think  he  thus  rejoices,  in  another's 
resurrection,  forgetting  his  own. 

And  yet  we  have  a  further  evidence  from  the  apostle  St. 
Paul,  who  affirms,  ''that  the  promise  made  to  the  fathers, 
God  had  fulfilled  to  their  children,  in  that  he  had  raised 
up  Jesus  again ;  as  it  is  also  written  in  the  second  psalm. 
Thou  art  my  Son,  this  day  have  I  begotten  thee.  And  as 
concerning  that  he  raised  him  up  from  the  dead,  now  no 
more  to  return  to  corruption  ;  he  said  on  this  wise,  I  will 
give  you  the  sure  mercies  of  David.  Which  it  is  now  ap- 
parent must  be  understood  of  eternal  mercies ;  such  as 
Christ's  resurrection  and  triumph  over  the  grave  doth  in- 
sure to  us.  He  therefore  looked  upon  what  was  spoken 
concerning  his  kingdom  here,  as  spoken  ultimately  of 
Christ's,  the  kingdom  whereby  he  governs  and  conducts 
his  faithful  subjects  through  all  the  troubles  of  life  and  ter- 
rors of  death  (through  both  whereof  he  himself  as  their 
king  and  leader  hath  shown  the  way)  unto  eternal  blessed- 
ness ;  and  iMon  the  covenant  made  with  him  as  the  co- 
venant of  God  in  Christ,  concerning  that  blessedness  and 
the  requisites  thereto.  And  (to  say  no  more  in  thLs  argu- 
ment) how  otherwise  can  we  conceive  he  should  have  that 
fulness  of  consolation  in  this  covenant  when  he  lay  a  dy- 
ing, as  we  find  him  expressing,  2  Sam.  xxiii.  5.  (for  these 
were  some  of  the  last  words  of  David,  as  we  see,  verse  1.) 
He  hath  made  with  me  an  everlasting  covenant,  ordered 
in  all  things  and  sure;  for  this  is  all  my  salvation,  and  all 
my  desire."  Wliat  so  great  joy  and  solace  could  a  dying 
man  take  in  a  covenant  made  with  him,  when  he  had  done 
with  this  world,  and  was  to  expect  no  more  in  it,  if  he  took 
it  not  to  concern  a  future  blessedness  in  another  world  1 
Was  it  only  for  the  hoped  prosperity  of  his  house  and  fa- 
mily when  he  was  gone  ?  This  (which  is  the  only  thing 
we  can  fasten  on)  he  plainlj--  secludes  in  the  next  words, — 
although  he  make  it  not  to  grow.  Therefore  it  was  his  re- 
flection upon  those  loving-kindnesses  mentioned  in  the  for- 
mer part  of  the  psalm,  contained  in  God's  covenant,  and 
confirmed  by  his  oath,  but  understood  according  to  the 
sen^e  and  import  already  declared,  that  caused  this  sudden 
turn  in  David's  spirit -^^  and  made  him  that  lately  spoke  as 
out  of  a  Golgotha,  as  if  he  had  nothing  but  death  in  his 
eye  and  thoughts,  to  speak  now  in  so  different  a  strain, 
and  (after  some  additional  pleadings,  in  which  his  faith 
further  recovers  itself)  to  conclude  this  psalm  with  solemn 
praise ;  Blessed  be  the  Lord  for  evermore.  Amen  and  Amen. 

We  see  then  the  contemplation  of  his  own  and  all  men's 
mortality,  abstractly  and  alone  considered,  clothed  his  soul 
with  black,  wrapped  it  up  in  gloomy  darkness,  makes  the 


m  Acts  ii.  v.  25,  &o- 

o  Verse  30. 

q  Acts  xiii.  38—34. 


THE  VANITY  OF  MAN  AS  MORTAL. 


277 


whole  kind  of  human  creatures  seem  to  him  an  obscure 
shadow,  an  empty  vanity ;  but  his  recalling  into  his 
thoughts  a  succeeding  stale  of  immortal  life,  clears  up  the 
day,  makes  him  and  all  things  appear  in  another  hue, 
gives  a  fair  account  why  such  a  creature  as  man  was  made ; 
and  therein  makes  the  whole  frame  of  things  in  this  inferior 
world  look  with  a  comely  and  well-composed  aspect,  as 
the  product  of  a  wise  and  rational  design.  Whence  there- 
fore we  have  this  ground  of  discourse  fairly  before  us  in 
the  words  themselves :— that  the  short  time  of  man  on 
earth,  limited  by  a  certain  unavoidable  death,  if  we  con- 
sider it  abstractly  by  itself,  without  respect  to  a  future  state, 
carries  that  appearance  and  a.spect  with  it,  as  if  God  had 
made  all  men  in  vain. — That  is  said  to  be  vain,  according 
to  the  importance  of  the  word  here  used,  "•  which  is  either 
false,  a  fiction,  an  appearance  only,  a  shadow,  or  evanid 
thing;  or  which  is  useless,  unprofitable,  and  to  no  valuable 
purpose.  The  life  of  man,  in  the  case  now  supposed,  may 
be  truly  styled  vain,  either  way.  And  we  shall  say  some- 
what to  each ;  but  to  the  former  more  briefly. 

1.  It  were  vain,  i.  e.  little  other  than  a  show,  a  mere 
shadow,  a  semblance  of  being.     We  must  indeed,  in  the 

K resent  case,  even  ahstract  him  from  himself,  and  consider 
im  only  as  a  mortal,  dying  thing  ;  and  as  to  that  of  him 
which  is  so,  what  a  contemptible  nothing  is  he  !  There  is 
an  appearance  of  somewhat ;  but  search  a  little,  and  in- 
quire mto  it,  and  it  vanishes  into  a  mere  nothing,  is  found 
a  lie,  a  piece  of  falsehood,  as  if  he  did  but  feign  a  being, 
and  were  not.  And  so  we  may  suppose  the  Psalmist 
speaking,  upon  the  view  of  his  own  and  the  common  case 
of  man,  how  fast  all  were  hastening  out  of  life,  and  laying 
down  the  being  which  they  rather  seemed  to  have  assumed 
aud  borrowed,  than  to  possess  and  own  :  Lord,  why  hast 
thou  made  man  such  a  fictitious  thing,  given  him  such  a 
mock-being  "?  Why  hast  thou  brought  forth  into  the  light 
of  this  world  such  a  sort  of  creatures,  that  rather  seem  to 
be  than  are ;  that  have  so  little  of  solid  and  substantial 
being,  and  so  little  deserve  to  be  taken  for  realities ;  that 
only  serve  to  cheat  one  another  into  an  opinion  of  their 
true  existence,  and  presently  vanish  and  confess  their  false- 
hood! What  hovering  shadows,  what  uncertain  entities 
are  they !  In  a  moment  they  are  and  are  not,  I  know  not 
when  to  say  I  have  seen  a  man.  It  seems  as  if  there  were 
some  such  things  before  my  eyes;  I  persuade  myself  that 
I  see  them  move  and  walk  to  and  fro,  that  I  talk  and  con- 
verse with  them ;  but  instantly  my  own  sense  k  ready  to 
give  my  sense  the  lie.  They  are  on  the  sudden  dwindled 
away,  and  force  me  almost  to  acknowledge  a  delusion.  I 
am  but  mocked  with  a  show  ;  and  what  seemed  a  reality 
proves  an  imposture.  Their  pretence  to  being,  is  but  fic- 
tion and  falsehood,  a  cozenage  of  over-credulous,  unwary 
sense.  They  only  personate  what  they  are  thought  to  be, 
and  quickly  put  off  their  very  .selves  as  a  disguise.  This 
is  agreeable  to  the  language  of  Scripture  elsewhere,  ^  Surely 
men  of  low  degree  are  vanity,  and  men  of  high  degree  are 
a  lie,  &c.  In  two  respects  may  the  present  state  of  man 
seem  to  approach  near  to  nothingness,  and  so  admit  this 
rhetorication  of  the  Psalmist,  as  if  he  were  in  this  sense  a 
vain  thing,  a  figment,  or  a  lie,  viz.  in  respect  to  the — mi- 
nuteness,  and — instability  of  this,  his  material  and  perish- 
able being. 

1.  The  minuteness,  the  small  portion  or  degree  of  be- 
ing which  this  mortal  part  of  man  hath  in  it.  It  is  truly 
said  of  all  created  things.  Their  non-esse  is  more  than  their 
esse,  they  have  more  no-being  than  being.  It  is  only 
some  limited  portion  that  they  have,  but  there  is  an  infi- 
nitude of  being  which  they  have  not.  And  so  coming 
infinitely  nearer  to  nothingness  than  fulness  of  being,  they 
may  well  enough  wear  the  name  of  nothing.  Wherefore 
the  first  and  fountain-being  justly  appropriates  to  himself 
the  name,  I  am ;  yea,  tells  us,  He  is,  and  there  is  none  be- 
sides him ;  therein  leaving  no  other  name  than  that  of 
nothing  unto  creatures.  And  how  much  more  may  this 
be  said  of  the  material  and  mortal  part,  this  outside  of 
man,  whatever  of  him  is  obnoxious  to  death  and  the  grave  ! 
Which  alone  (abstractly  looked  on)  is  the  subject  of  the 
Psalmist's  present  consideration  and  discourse.  By  how 
much  any  thing  hath  more  of  matter,  it  hath  the  less  of 


r  tf^v. 

t  Plotin.  En.  2. 1.  6. 

22 


u  lBa.xI. 


B  Psal.  Ixii.  9. 

X  Job  xx\ii.  19. 


actual  essence.  Matter  being  rather  a  capacity  of  being, 
than  being  itself,  or  a  dark  umbrage  or  shadow  of  it,  actu- 
ally nothing,  but  tuiwXuv,  xptviui,  (as  are  the  expressions  of  a 
noble  '  philosopher,)  a  mere  semblance,  or  a  lie.  And  it  is 
the  language  not  of  philosopliers  only,  but  of  the  Holy 
Ghost  concerning  all  the  nations  of  men,  "  They  are  as 
nothing,  less  than  nothing,  and  vanity.  What  a  scarcity 
then,  aud  penury  of  being,  must  we  suppose  in  each  indi- 
vidual !  especially  if  we  look  alone  upon  the  outer  pait, 
or  rather  the  umbrage  or  shadow  of  the  man. 

2.  The  instability  and  fluidness  of  it.  The  vi.sible  and 
corporeal  being  of  man  hath  nothing  steady  or  consistent 
in  it.  Consider  his  exterior  frame  and  composition,  he  is 
no  time  all  him.self  at  once.  There  is  a  continual  deflu- 
ence  and  access  of  parts;  so  that  some  account,  each 
climacteric  of  his  age  changes  his  whole  fabric.  Whence 
it  would  follow,  that  besides  his  statique  individuating 
principle,  (from  which  we  are  now  to  abstract,)  nothing  of 
him  remains;  he  is  another  thing;  the  former  man  is 
vanished  and  gone;  while  he  is,  he  hastens  away,  and 
within  a  little  is  not.  In  respect  to  the  duration  as  well 
as  the  degree  of  his  being,  he  is  next  to  nothing.  He  opens 
his  eye,  and  is  not.  »Gone  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye. 
There  is  nothing  in  him  stable  enough,  to  admit  a  fixed 
look.  So  it  is  with  the  whole  scene  of  things  in  this  ma- 
terial world.  As  was  the  true  maxim  of  an  ancient, t 
All  things  flow,  nothing  stays;  after  the  manner  of  a 
river.  The  same  thing  which  the  apostle's  words  more 
elegantly  express ;  ^  The  fashion  of  this  world  passeth 
away.  The  scheme,  the  show,  the  pageantry  of  it.  He 
speaks  of  it  but  as  an  appearance,  as  if  he  knew  not  whe- 
ther to  call  it  something  or  nothing,  it  was  so  near  to 
vanishing  into  nothinsr.  And  therefore  he  tliere  requires, 
that  the  aflections  which  mutual  nearness  in  relation  chal- 
lenges, be  as  if  tiiej'  were  not ;  that  we  rejoice  in  reference 
to  one  another,  (even  most  nearly  related,  as  the  occasion 
and  scope  of  his  discourse  teach  us  to  understand  him,) 
but  as  if  we  rejoiced  not,  and  to  weep  as  if  we  wept  not. 
Which  implies,  the  objects  merit  no  more,  and  are  them- 
selves as  if  they  were  not.  Whence,  therefore,  a  continued 
course  of  intense  passion,  were  very  incongruous  towards 
so  discontinuing  things.  And  the  whole  state  of  man  be- 
ing but  a  show,  the  pomp  and  glittering  of  the  greatest 
men  make  the  most  splendid  and  conspicuous  part  of  it ; 
yet  all  this  we  find  is  not  otherwise  reckoned  of,  'than  an 
image,  a  dream,  a  vision  of  the  sight;  every  man  at  his 
best  state  is  altogether  vanity,  walketh  in  a  vain  show, 
disquieteth  himself  in  vain,  &c.  Of  all  without  exception, 
'tis  pronounced,  Man  is  like  to  vanity,  his  days  are  as  a 
shadow  that  passeth  away.  As  Ecclesiastes  often,  of  all 
sublunary  things.  Vanity  of  vanities,  &c. 

2.  But  yet  there  is  another  notion  of  i:ain,  as  it  signi- 
fies useless,  unprofiiable,  or  to  no  purpose.  And  in  this 
sense  also,  if  we  consider  the  universal  mortality  of  man- 
kind without  respect  to  a  future  state,  there  was  a  spe- 
cious ground  for  the  expostulation,  Why  hast  thou  made  all 
men  in  vain  1  Vanity  in  the  lormer  notion  speaks  the 
emptiness  of  a  thing,  absolutely  and  in  itself  considered ; 
in  this  latter  relatively,  as  it  is  referred  to  and  measured 
by  an  end.  That  is,  in  this  sense,  vain,  which  serves  to 
no  end ;  or  to  no  worthy  and  valuable  end,  which  amounts 
to  the  same.  For  inasmuch  as  all  ends,  except  the  last, 
are  means  also  to  a  further  end ;  if  the  end  immediately 
aimed  at  be  vain  and  worthless,  that  which  is  refer- 
red to  it,  as  it  is  so  referred,  cannot  but  be  also  vain. 
Whereupon  now  let  us  make  trial  what  end  we  could  in 
this  case  think  man  made  for.  Which  will  best  be  done  by 
taking  some  view, — 1.  Of  his  nature. — 2.  Of  the  ends  for 
which,  upon  that  supposition,  we  must  suppose  him  made. 

1.  Of  the  former  (neglecting  the  strictness  of  philo.^o- 
phical  disquisition)  no  more  is  intended  to  be  said  than 
may  comport  with  the  design  of  a  popular  discourse. 
And  it  shall  suffice,  therefore,  only  to  take  notice  of  what 
is  more  obvious  in  the  nature  of  man,  acid  subservient  to 
the  jiresent  purpose.  And  yet  we  are  here  to  look  fur- 
ther than  the  mere  surface  and  outside  of  man,  which  we 
only  considered  before  ;  and  to  ^iiew  his  nature,  as  it  is  in 
itself;  and  not  as  the  supposition  of  its  having  nothing 

y  Heracl.  z  I  Cor.  vii. 

a  Job  XX.  7,  8,  9.  Psal.  Ixxiii.  80.  XAiut.  8,  0. 


278 


THE  VANITY  OF  MAN  AS  MORTAL. 


but  what  is  mortal  belonging  to  it,  would  make  it :  for  as 
the  exility  (and  almost  nothingness)  of  man's  being,  con- 
sidered according  to  that  supposition,  did  best  serve  to  ex- 
press the  vanity  of  it,  in  the  former  notion  that  hath  been 
given  of  a  vain  thing;  so  the  excellency  and  solid  sub- 
stantiality of  it,  considered  as  it  is  in  itself,  will  conduce 
most  to  the  discovery  of  its  vanity  in  this  latter  notion 
thereof.  That  is,  if  we  first  consider  that,  and  then  the 
supposition  of  such  a  creature's  being  only  made  to  perish. 
And  if  what  shall  be  said  herein,  do  in  the  sequel  tend  to 
destroy  that  above-mentioned  disposition,  (as  it,  being 
established,  would  destroy  the  prime  glory  of  human  na- 
ture,) it  can  only  be  said  magna  est  Veritas,  4'C-  In  the 
meantime  we  may  take  a  view,  in  the  nature  of  man, 

1.  Of  his  intellective  powers.  Hereby  he  frames  notions 
of  things,  even  of  such  things  as  are  above  the  sphere  of 
sense ;  of  moral  good  and  evil,  right  and  wrong,  what  is 
virtuous  and  what  is  vicious;  of  abstract  and  universal 
natures.  Yea,  and  of  a  first  being,  and  cause,  and  of  the 
wisdom,  power,  goodness,  and  other  perfections,  which 
must  primarily  agree  to  him.  Hereby  he  atiirms  and  de- 
nies one  thing  of  another,  as  he  observes  them  to  agree  and 
disagree,  and  discerns  the  truth  and  falsehood  of  what  is 
spoken  or  denied.  He  doth  hereby  infer  one  thing  from 
another,  and  argue  himself  into  firm  and  unwavering  as- 
sent to  many  things,  not  only  above  the  discovery  of  sense, 
but  directly  contrary  to  their  sensible  appearances. 

2.  His  power  of  determining  himself,  of  choosing  and 
refusing,  according  as  things  are  estimated,  and  do  appear 
to  him.  Where  also  it  is  evident  how  far  the  objects  which 
this  faculty  is  sometimes  exercised  about,  do  transcend  the 
reach  of  all  sensible  nature ;  as  well  as  the  peculiar  noble- 
ness and  excellency  is  remarkable  of  the  faculty  itself. 
It  hath  ofien  for  its  object  things  of  the  highest  nature, 
purely  spiritual  and  divine,  virtue,  religion,  God  himself. 
So  as  that  these  (the  faculty  being  repaired  only  by  sancti- 
fying grace,  not  now  first  put  into  the  nature  of  man)  are 
chosen  by  some,  and,  where  it  is  not  so,  refused  ('tis  true) 
by  the  most;  but  not  by  a  mere  not-willing  of  them,  (as 
mere  brutal  appetite  also  doth  not-will  them,  which  no 
way  reaches  the  notion  of  a  refusal,)  but  by  rejecting  them 
with  a  positive  aversion  and  dislike,  wherein  there  is  great 
iniquit}''  and  sin :  which  could  not  be  but  in  a  nature 
capable  of  the  opposite  temper.  And  it  is  apparent,  this 
facult}'  hath  tiie  privilege  of  determining  itself,  so  as  to  be 
exempt  from  the  necessitating  influenceof  any  thing  foreign 
to  it ;  upon  the  supposal  whereof,  the  manager)'-  of  all 
human  affairs,  all  treaties  between  man  and  man,  to  induce 
a  consent  to  this  or  that,  the  whole  frame  of  government, 
all  legislation  and  distribution  of  public  justice,  do  depend. 
For  take  away  this  supposition,  and  these  will  presently 
appear  most  absurd  and  unjust.  With  what  solemnity  are 
applications  and  addresses  made  to  the  will  of  man  upon 
all  occasions  !  How  is  it  courted,  and  solicited,  and  sued 
unto  !  But  how  absurd  were  it  so  to  treat  the  other  crea- 
tures, that  act  by  a  necessity  of  nature  in  all  they  do  !  to 
make  supplications  to  the  wind,  or  propound  articles  to  a 
brute !  And  how  unjust,  to  determine  and  inflict  severe 
penalties  for  unavoidable  and  necessitated  actions  and 
omissions !  These  things  occur  to  our  first  notice,  upon 
any  (a  more  sudden  and  cursory)  view  of  the  nature  of 
man.  And  what  should  hinder,  but  we  may  infer  from 
these,  that  there  is  farther  in  his  nature, 

3.  A  capacity  of  an  immortal  state,  i.  e.  that  his  nature 
is  such,  that  he  may,  if  God  so  please,  by  the  concurrent 
influence  of  his  ordinary  power  and  providence,  without 
the  help  of  a  miracle,  subsist  in  another  state  of  life  after 
this,  even  a  state  that  shall  not  be  liable  to  that  impairment 
and  decay  that  we  find  this  subject  to.  More  is  not  (as 
yet)  contended  for ;  and  so  much  methinks  none  should 
make  a  difficulty  to  admit,  from  what  is  evidently  found 
in  him.  For  it  may  well  be  supposed,  that  the  admitting 
of  this  (at  least)  will  seem  much  more  easy  to  any  free  and 
unprejudiced  reason,  than  to  ascribe  the  operations  before 
mstanced  in,  to  alterable  or  perishable  matter,  or  indeed 
to  any  matter  at  all.  It  being  justly  presumed,  that  none 
will  ascribe  to  matter,  as  such,  the  powers  of  ratiocination 
or  volition.  For  then  every  particle  of  matter  must  needs 
be  rational  and  intelligent  (a  high  advance  to  what  one 
would  never  have-thought  at  all  active.)     And  how  un- 


conceivable is  it,  that  the  minute  particles  of  matter,  in 
themselves,  each  of  them  destitute  of  any  such  powers, 
should  by  their  mutual  intercourse  with  one  another,  be- 
come furnished  with  them  1  that  they  should  be  able  to 
understand,  deliberate,  resolve,  and  choose,  being  assem- 
bled and  duly  disposed  in  counsel  together ;  but,  apart, 
rest  all  in  a  deep  and  sluggish  silence !  Besides,  if  the 
particles  of  matter,  howsoever  modified  and  moved,  to  the 
utmost  subtilty  or  tenuity,  and  to  the  highest  vigour,  shall 
then  become  intelligent  and  rational,  how  is  it  that  we 
observe  not,  as  any  matter  is  more  subtil  and  more  swiftly 
and  vigorously  moved,  it  makes  not  a  discernibly  nearer 
approach  (proporlionably)  to  the  faculty  and  power  of  rea- 
soning! And  that  nothing  more  of  an  aptitude  or  tendency 
towards  intelligence  and  wisdom  is  to  be  perceived  in  an 
aspiring  flame  or  a  brisk  wind,  than  in  a  clod  or  a  stone  1 
If  to  understand,  to  define,  to  distinguish,  to  syllogize,  be 
nothing  else  but  the  agitation  and  collision  of  the  minute 
parts  of  rarified  mailer  among  one  another ;  methinks,  some 
happy  chemist  or  other,  when  he  hath  missed  his  designed 
mark,  should  have  hit  upon  some  such  more  noble  pro- 
duct, and  by  one  or  other  prosperous  sublimation  have 
caused  some  temporary  resemblance  (at  least)  of  these 
operations.  Or,  if  the  paths  of  nature,  in  these  affairs  of 
the  mind,  be  more  abstruse,  and  quite  out  of  the  reach  and 
road  of  artificial  achievement,  whence  is  it,  that  nature 
herself  (that  is  vainly  enough  supposed  by  some  to  have 
been  so  happy,  as  by  some  casual  strokes  to  have  fabricated 
the  first  of  human  creatures,  that  have  since  propagated 
themselves)  is  grown  so  effete  and  dull,  as  never  since  to 
hit  upon  any  like  effect  in  the  like  way:  and  that  no  re- 
cords of  any  time  or  age  give  us  the  notice  of  some  such 
creature  sprung  out  of  some  epicurean  womb  of  the  earth, 
and  elaborated  by  the  only  immediate  hand  of  nature,  so 
disposing  the  parts  of  matter  in  its  constitution,  that  it 
should  be  able  to  perform  the  operation  belonging  to  the 
mind  of  man.  But  if  we  cannot,  with  any  tolerable  pre- 
tence or  show  of  reason,  attribute  these  operations  to  any 
mere  matter,  that  there  must  be  somewhat  else  in  man  to 
which  they  may  agree,  that  is  distinct  from  his  corruptible 
part,  and  that  is  therefore  capable,  by  the  advantage  of  its 
own  nature,  of  subsisting  hereafter  (while  God  shall  con- 
tinue to  it  an  influence  agreeable  to  its  nature,  as  he  doth 
to  other  creatures.)  And  hence  it  seems  a  modest  and 
sober  deduction,  that  there  is  in  the  nature  of  man,  at  least, 
a  capacity  of  an  immortal  state. 

2.  Now,  if  we  yet  suppose  there  is  actually  no  such 
•State  for  man  hereafter,  it  is  our  next  business  to  view  the 
ends  for  which,  upon  that  supposition,  he  may  be  thought 
to  have  been  made.  Whence  we  shall  soon  see,  there  is 
not  any  of  them  whereof  it  may  be  said,  this  is  that  he  was 
created  for,  as  his  adequate  end.  And  here  we  have  a 
double  agent  to  be  accommodated  with  a  suitable  end ; — 
Man  now  made ;  and — God  who  made  him. 

1.  Man  himself  For  it  must  be  considered,  that  inas- 
much as  man  is  a  creature  capable  of  propounding  to  him- 
self an  end,  and  of  acting  knowingly  and  with  design  to- 
wards it,  (and  indeed  incapable  of  acting  otherwise  as  a 
man,)  it  would  therefore  not  be  reasonable  to  speak  of  him 
in  this  discourse,  as  if  he  were  merely  passive,  and  to  be 
acted  only  by  another:  but  we  must  reckon  him  obliged, 
in  subordination  to  his  Maker,  to  intend  and  pursue  (him- 
self) the  proper  end  for  which  he  appointed  and  made  him. 
And  in  reason  we  are  to  expect  that  what  God  hath  ap- 
pointed to  be  his  proper  end,  should  be  such  as  is  in  itself 
most  highly  desirable,  suitable  to  the  utmost  capacity  of 
his  nature,  and  attainable  by  his  action;  so  carrying  with 
it  sufficient  inducements,  both  of  desire  and  hope,  to  a 
vigorous  and  rational  prosecution  of  it.  Thus  we  must, 
at  least,  conceive  it  to  have  been  in  the  primitive  institu- 
tion of  man's  end,  unto  which,  the  expostulation  hath  re- 
ference,— Wherefore  hast  thou  made  all  men  in  vain  1  And 
we  can  think  of  no  ends  which  men  either  do  or  ought  to 
propound  to  themselves,  but  by  the  direction  of  one  of 
these  principles,  sense,  reason,  or  religion. 

1.  Sense  is  actually  the  great  dictator  to  the  most  of 
men,  and  de  facto,  determines  them  to  the  mark  and  scope 
which  they  pursue,  and  animates  the  whole  pursuit.  Not 
that  sense  is  by  itself  capable  of  designing  an  end,  but  it 
too  generally  inclines  and  biasses  reason  herein.    So  that 


THE  VANITY  OF  MAN  AS  MORTAL. 


279 


reason  hath  no  other  hand  in  the  business,  that  only  as  a 
slave  to  sense,  to  form  the  design  and  contrn-e  the  methods 
which  may  most  conduce  to  it,  I'ur  the  graiificaiion  of  sen- 
sual appetite  and  inclination  at  last.  And  the  appeiitions 
of  sense  (wherein  it  hath  so  much  mastery  and  dominion) 
are  but  such  as  we  find  enumerated,  1  John  ii.  16.  The 
last  of  the  flesh,  the  lust  of  the  eye,  the  pride  of  life.  Or 
(if  we  understand  the  apostle  to"  use  the  name  of  lust  ob- 
jectively) the  objects  sutficiently  connote  the  appeiitions 
themselves.  All  which  may  fitly  be  referred  to  sense: 
either  the  outward  senses,  or  the  fancy  or  imagination, 
which  as  deservedly  comes  under  the  same  common  de- 
nomination. 

Now,  who  can  think  the  satisfying  of  these  lusts  the 
commensurate  end  of  man  1  Who  would  not,  upon  the 
supposition  of  no  higher,  say  with  the  Psalmist,  Where- 
fore hast  thou  made  all  men  in  vain  1  To  w^hat  purpose 
was  it  for  him  to  live  in  the  world  a  few  years,  upon  this 
account  only,  and  so  go  down  to  the  place  of  silence? 
What  is  there  in  the  momentary  satisfaction  of  this  mortal 
flesh;  in  his  pleasing  view  of  a  mass  of  treasure,  (which 
he  never  brought  with  him  into  the  world,  but  only  heaped 
together,  and  so  leaves  not  the  world  richer  or  poorer  than 
he  found  it,)  what  is  there  in  the  applause  and  admiration 
of  fools,  (as  the  greater  part  always  are,)  that  we  should 
think  it  worth  the  while  for  man  to  have  lived  for  these 
things'?  If  the  question  were  put.  Wherefore  did  God 
make  man  1  Who  would  not  be  ashamed  so  to  answer  it, 
He  made  him  to  eat,  and  drink,  and  take  his  pleasure,  to 
gather  up  w^ealth  for  he  knows  not  who;  to  use  his  in- 
ventions, that  each  one  may  become  a  talk  and  wonder  to 
the  rest;  and  then  when  he  hath  fetched  a  few  turns  upon 
the  theatre,  and  entertained  the  eyes  of  beholders  with 
a  short  scene  of  impertinencies,  descend  and  never  be 
heard  of  more  1  What,  that  he  should  come  into  the  world 
furnished  with  such  powers  and  endowments  for  this  1  It 
were  like  a  case,  as  if  one  should  be  clad  in  scarlet  to  go 
to  plough,  or  curiously  instructed  in  arts  and  sciences  to 
tend  hogs. 

Or,  2dly,  If  we  rise  higher,  to  the  view  of  such  ends  as 
more  refined  reason  may  propose,  within  the  compass  only 
of  this  present  state :  we  will  suppose  that  it  be  either, 
the  acquisition  of  much  knowledge,  the  furnishing  his 
understanding  with  store  of  choice  and  well-digested  no- 
tions; that  he  may  please  himself  in  being  (or  in  having 
men  think  him)  a  learned  wight.  Death  robs  away  all  his 
gain.  And  what  is  the  world  the  better  1  How  little  shall 
he  enrich  the  clods,  among  which  he  must  shortly  lie 
down  and  have  his  abode  !  Or  how  little  is  the  gain,  when 
the  labour  and  travail  of  so  many  years  are  all  vanished 
and  blown  away  with  the  last  puff  of  his  dying  breath, 
and  the  fruit  that  remains,  is  to  have  it  said  b)'^  those  that 
survive,  "  There  lies  learned  dust  ?"  That  an}' part  of  his 
acquisitions,  in  that  kind,  descends  to  others,  little  betters 
the  case,  Avhen  thej''  that  succeed  are  all  hastening  down 
also  into  the  same  ignoble  dust.  Besides,  that  the  increase 
of  sorrow,  both  because  the  objects  of  knowledge  do  but 
increase  the  more  he  knows,  do  multiply  the  more  upon 
aim,  so  as  to  beget  a  despair  of  ever  knowing  so  much 
as  he  shall  know  himself  to  be  ignorant  of;  and  a  thou- 
sand doubts,  about  things  he  hath  more  deeply  consider- 
ed, which  his  more  confident  (undiscovered)  ignorance 
never  dreamt  of  or  suspected.  And  thence  an  unquiet- 
ness,  an  irresolution  of  mind,  w^hich  they  that  never  drove 
at  any  such  mark  are  (more  contentedly)  unacquainted 
with.  And  also,  because  that  by  how  much  knowl- 
edge hath  refined  a  man's  soul,  so  much  it  is  more  sen- 
sible and  perceptive  of  troublesome  impressions  from  the 
disorderly  state  of  things  in  the  world;  -which  they 
that  converse  only  with  earth  and  dirt,  have  not  spirits 
clarified  and  fine  enough  to  receive.  So  that,  except  a 
man's  knowing  more  than  others  were  to  be  referred  to 
another  state,  the  labour  of  attaining  thereto,  and  other 
accessary  disadvantages,  would  hardlv  ever  be  compen- 
sated by  the  fruit  or  pleasure  of  it.  And  unless  a  man 
would  suppose  himself  made  for  torment,  he  would  be 
shrewdly  tempted  to  think  a  quiet  and  drowsy  ignorance 
a  happier  state. 

Or  if  that  man's  reason,  with  a  peculiarity  of  temper, 
guide  him  to  an  active  negociating  life,  rather  than  that  of 


contemplation  ;  and  determine  him  to  the  endeavour  of 
serving  mankind,  or  the  community  to  which  he  belongs: 
by  how  much  the  worthier  actions  he  performs,  and  by 
how  much  more  he  hath  perfected  and  accomplished  him- 
self with  parts  and  promptitude  for  such  actions;  the  loss 
and  vanity  is  but  the  greater  thereby,  since  he  and  those 
he  affected  to  .serve,  are  all  going  down  to  the  silent  grave. 
Of  how  little  use  are  the  politician,  the  statesman,  the  se- 
nator, the  judge,  or  the  eloquent  man,  if  we  lay  aside  the 
consideration  of  their  subserviency  to  the  keeping  the 
world  in  a  more  composed  and  orderly  stale,  for  the  prose- 
cution of  the  great  designs  of  eternity,  w^hen  ere  long  all 
their  thoughts  shall  perish  1  what  matter  were  ii  what  be- 
came of  the  world,  whether  it  be  wise  or  foolish,  rich  or 
poor,  quiet  or  unquiet,  governed  or  ungoverned  1  Who- 
ever should  make  their  order  and  tranquillity  their  study, 
or  that  should  intend  their  thoughts  and  endeavours  to  the 
finding  out  the  exactesl  methods  and  rules  of  gtivernment 
and  policy,  should  but  do  as  they  that  should  use  a  great 
deal  of  pains  and  art  in  the  curious  adorning  and  trimming 
up  of  a  dying  person ;  or  as  if  some  one,  among  many  con- 
demned persons,  should  be  very  solicitous  to  have  them 
march  with  him  in  very  exact  order  to  the  place  of  execu- 
tion. If  the  world  be  not  looked  upon  as  a  tiring  room  to 
dress  one's  self  in,  for  an  appearance  on  the  eternal  stage; 
but  only  as  a  great  charnel-house,  where  they  undress  and 
put  off"  themselves,  to  sleep  in  everlasting  darkness ;  how 
can  we  think  it  worth  a  thought,  or  to  be  the  subject  of 
any  rational  design  or  care  1  Who  would  not  rather  bless 
himself  in  a  more  rational  neglect  and  regard lessness  of 
all  human  affairs;  and  accoimt  an  unconcerned  indiffer- 
ency  the  highest  wisdom"? 

Yea,  3dlij,  If  we  suppose  religion  (which  we  need  not 
(because  it  is  mentioned  in  this  order)  conceive  exclusive 
of  reason,  but  rather  perfective  of  it:  reason  having  first 
found  out  God,  religion  adores  him)  to  become  with  any  the 
ruling  principle,  and  to  have  the  direction  and  government 
of  the  man,  as  to  his  way  and  end:  how  would  even  that 
languish  with  the  best,  were  the  consideration  of  a  future 
slate  laid  aside,  which  with  so  few,  notwithstanding  it,  hath 
any  efficacy  at  all  to  command  and  govern  their  lives'. 
Religion  terminates  upon  God ;  and  upon  him  under  a 
double  notion,  either  as  we  design  service  and  honour  to 
him,  or  as  from  him  we  design  satislaction  and  blessedness 
to  ourselves.  Now  if  a  man's  thoughts  and  the  intention 
of  his  mind  be  carried  towards  God  under  the  former  no- 
tion, how  great  an  allay  and  abatement  must  it  needs  be  to 
the  vigour  and  zeal  of  his  affection,  who  shall  with  the 
most  sincere  devotedness  apply  himself  to  serve  his  inter- 
est and  glory,  to  reflect  upon  the  universal  mortalit)'  of 
himself  and  mankind,  without  anj'  hope  of  compensation 
to  it  by  a  future  immortality  ! 

It  is  agreed  on  all  hands,  that  the  utmost  contributions 
of  creatures  can  add  nothing  to  him  ;  and  that  our  glorify- 
ing him  doth  only  consist,  either  in  our  acknowledging 
him  glorious  ourselves,  or  representing  him  so  to  others. 
But  how  little  doth  it  signify,  and  how  flat  and  low  a  thing 
would  it  seem,  that  1  should  onl}-  turn  mine  eye  upwards 
and  think  a  few  admiring  thoughts  of  God  this  hour,  while 
I  apprehend  myself  liable  to  lose  my  very  thinking  power 
and  whole  being  the  next !  Or  if  we  could  spread  his  just 
renown,  and  gain  all  the  sons  of  men  to  a  concurrence 
with  us  in  the  adoring  of  his  sovereign  excellencies,  how 
would  it  damp  and  stifle  such  loyal  and  dutiful  affection, 
to  consider,  that  the  universal  testimony,  so  deservedly 
given  him,  shall  shortly  cease  for  ever,  and  that  infinitelj' 
blessed  Being  be  ere  long  (again,  as  he  was  from  eternity 
before)  the  only  witness  of  his  own  glory  !  And  if  the  pro- 
pension  of  a  man's  soul  be  towards  God  under  the  latter 
notion  also,  in  order  to  a  satisfaction  that  shall  thence  ac- 
crue to  himself,  (which  design,  both  in  the  pursuit  and  exe- 
cution of  it,  is  so  conjunct  with  the  former  that  it  cannot 
be  severed,)  it  cannot  but  he  an  unspeakable  diminution 
and  check  to  the  highest  delights  in  this  kind,  to  think  how 
soon  they  shall  have  an  end  ;  that  the  darkness  and  dust  of 
the  grave  shall  shortl}'  obscure  and  extinguish  the  glory  of 
this  lightsome  scene. 

To  think  every  tinje  one  enters  that  blessed  presence, 
for  ought  I  know  I  shall  approach  it  no  more!  This  is 
possibly  my  last  sight  of  that  pleasant  face,  my  last  taste 


2ei^ 


THE  VANITY  OF  MAN  AS  MORTAL, 


of  those  enravishing  pleasures !  "What  bitterness  must  this 
infuse  into  the  most  delicious  sweemess  our  state  could 
then  admit!  And  by  how  much  more  free  and  large  grace 
should  be  in  its  present  communications,  and  by  how 
much  any  soul  should  be  more  experienced  in  the  life  of 
God  and  inured  to  divine  delights,  so  much  the  more  grie- 
vous and  afflictive  resentments  it  could  not  but  have  of  the 
approaching  end  of  all ;  and  be  the  more  powerfully  tempt- 
ed to  say,  Lord,  why  was  I  made  in  vain  1  How  faint  and 
languid  would  endeavours  be  after  the  knowledge  of  that 
God  whom  I  may  but  only  know  and  die  !  How  impotent 
and  ineflectual  would  the  attractions  of  this  end  be  to  man 
in  this  terrene  state  to  raise  him  above  the  world,  and  res- 
cue him  from  the  power  of  sensible  things,  to  engage  him 
in  the  pursuit  of  that  sanctity  and  purity  which  alone  can 
qualify  him  for  converse  with  God,  to  bear  him  out  in  a 
conflict  against  the  (more  natural)  inclinations  of  sense, 
when  if  with  much  labour  and  painful  striving,  much 
self-denial  and  severity  to  the  flesh,  any  disposition  should 
be  attained  to  relish  divine  pleasures,  it  be  considered  all 
the  while,  that  the  end  of  all  may  be  as  soon  lost  as  it  is 
gained ;  and  that  possibly  there  may  be  no  more  than  a 
moment's  pleasure  to  recompense  the  pains  and  conflicts  of 
many  years!  Although,  in  this  case,  the  continual  hope 
and  expectation  of  some  further  manifestation  and  fruition 
might  much  influence  a  person  already  holy,  and  a  great 
lover  of  God,  unto  a  steadfast  adherence  to  him ;  yet  how 
little  would  it  do  to  make  men  such,  that  are  yet  unsuit- 
able and  disaffected  to  him  !  or  even  to  recover  such 
out  of  their  lapses  and  drowsy  fits,  that  are  not  altoge- 
ther so ! 

And  'tis  further  to  be  considered,  that  since  God  hath 
given  man  a  being  capable  of  subsisting  in  another  state ; 
(as  doth  appear  by  what  hath  been  already  said ;)  and 
since  he  is  therefore  capable  of  enjoying  a  greater  happi- 
ness than  his  present  state  can  admit  of;  that  capacity  will 
draw  upon  him  a  most  indispensable  obligation  to  intend 
that  happiness  as  his  end.  For  admit  that  there  be  no  fu- 
ture state  for  him,  it  is  however  impossible  any  man  should 
know  there  is  none;  and  upon  an  impartial  view  of  the 
whole  case,  he  hath  enough  to  render  it,  (at  least)  far  more 
likely  to  him  that  there  is.  And  certainly  he  cannot  but 
be  obliged  to  pursue  the  highest  good  (even  by  the  law  of 
nature  itself)  which  his  nature  is  capable  of;  which  pro- 
bably he  may  attain,  and  which  he  is  no  where  forbidden 
by  his  Creator  to  aspire  unto.  Whence  therefore,  if  we 
now  circumscribe  him  within  the  limits  of  this  present 
mortal  state  ;  or  if,  for  argument's  sake,  we  suppose  even- 
tually there  is  no  other;  we  must  not  only  confess  that  ca- 
pacity to  be  given  him  in  vain,  but  that  he  is  obliged  also 
to  employ  the  principal  endeavours  of  his  life  and  all  his 
powers  in  vain ;  (for  certainly  his  principal  endeavour 
ought  to  be  laid  out  in  order  to  his  principal  end  ;)  that  is, 
to  pursue  that  good  which  he  may  attain,  but  never  shall ; 
and  which  is  possible  to  him,  but  not  upon  any  terms  fu- 
ture. And  if  it  be  admitted,  that  the  subject  state  of  man 
must  silence  all  objections  against  any  such  inconsisten- 
cies, and  make  him  content  to  act  in  pure  obedience  to  his 
Maker,  (whether  he  signify  his  will  by  the  law  of  nature 
only, or  by  any  positive  precept,)  though  he  shall  not  here- 
after enjoy  any  permanent  state  of  blessedness  as  the  con- 
sequent reward :  that  virtue  and  goodness,  a  holy  recti- 
tude of  inclinations  and  actions,  are  reward  enough  to 
themselves  :  and  there  is  that  justice  and  sweetness  in  re- 
ligion, to  oblige  him  to  love  and  reverence  and  adore  the 
Divine  Majesty  this  moment,  though  he  were  sure  to  perish 
for  ever  and  be  reduced  to  nothing  the  next ;  I  say,  admit- 
ting all  this,  yet, 

2.  Since  the  blessed  God  himself  is  to  be  considered  as 
the  principal  Agent  and  Designer  in  this  inquiry,  "  Why 
hast  thou  made  all  men  in  vain  V  It  is  with  modest  and 
humble  reverence  to  be  considered,  what  end  worthy  of 
that  infinitely  perfect  Being,  he  may  be  supposed  to  have 
propounded  to  himself  in  forming  such  a  creature  of  so 
improveable  a  nature,  and  furnished  with  so  noble  faculties 
and  powers,  for  so  transient  and  temporary  a  state  ?  and 
how  well  it  will  consist  with  the  most  obvious  and  unques- 
tionable notions  we  can  have  of  an  absolutely  perfect  Be- 
ing and  the  attributes  which  he  most  peculiarly  challenges 
b  Jor.  iz.  9i. 


and  appropriates  to  himself,  (so  as  not  only  to  own,  but  to 
glory  in  them,)  that  he  should  give  being  not  to  some  few 
only,  but  to  the  whole  species  of  human  creatures,  and 
therein  communicate  to  them  a  nature  capable  of  know- 
ing, of  loving,  and  enjoying  himself  in  a  blessed  eternity 
with  a  design  to  continue  them  only  for  some  short  space 
on  earth,  in  a  low,  imperfect  state,  wherein  they  shall  be 
liable  to  sink  still  lower,  to  the  vilest  debasement  of  their 
natures;  and  yet  not  for  their  transgression  herein,  (for 
'tis  the  mortality  of  man,  not  by  sin,  but  by  creation  or  the 
design  of  the  Creator  only,  that  is  now  supposed,)  but  for 
his  mere  pleasure  to  bereave  them  of  being,  and  reduce 
them  all  again  to  nothing  1  It  is  to  be  considered ,  Whether, 
thus  to  resolve  and  do,  can  any  way  agree  to  God,  accord- 
ing to  our  clearest  and  most  assured  conceptions  of  him  ; 
not  from  our  reasoning  only,  but  his  discovery  of  him- 
self 1  For  otherwise  we  see  the  imputation  falls  where 
we  should  dread  to  let  it  rest,  of  having  made  man  in 
vain. 

He  is,  in  common  account,  said  to  act  vainly,  who  acts 
beneath  himself,  so  as  to  pursue  an  end  altogether  unwor- 
thy of  him,  or  none  at  all.  'Tis  true,  that  some  single  acts 
may  be  done  by  great  persons  as  a  divertisement,  without 
dishonourable  reflection, that  may  seem  much  beneath  them. 
And  if  any  do  stoop  to  very  mean  offices  and  employ- 
ments to  do  good,  to  help  the  distressed  and  relieve  the 
miserable,  it  is  a  glorious  acquest;  and  the  greater  they 
are,  the  higher  is  the  glory  of  their  condescending  good- 
ness. Benignity  of  nature  and  a  propension  to  the  most 
imexpected  acts  of  a  merciful  self-depression,  when  the 
case  may  require  it,  are  the  most  comely  ornaments  of 
princely  greatness,  and  outshine  the  glory  of  the  richest 
diadem.  But  a  wonted  habitual  cour.«e  of  mean  actions 
in  great  persons,  that  speak  a  low  design  or  no  design  at 
all,  but  either  a  humour  to  trifle,  or  a  mischievous  nature 
and  disposition,  w-ould  never  fail  to  be  thought  inglorious 
and  infamous;  as  may  be  seen  in  the  instances  of  Sarda 
napalus's  spinning,  and  Domilian's  killing  of  flies. 

When  wisdom  and  goodness  are  in  conjunction  with 
power  and  greatness,  they  never  persuade  a  descent  but 
upon  such  terms  and  for  such  purposes  that  a  more  glo- 
rious advancement  shall  ensue.  Wisdom  foreseeing  that 
end,  and  goodness  readily  taking  the  way,  which  (though 
it  were  most  undesigned,  or  not  aimed  at  as  an  end)  could 
not  fail  to  effect  it.  Nor  are  any  attributes  of  the  Divin** 
Being  more  conspicuous  than  these ;  more  testified  by 
himself,  or  more  generall)^  acknowledged  b}'^  all  men  that 
have  not  denied  his  existence.  Or  if  any  have  done  that 
violence  to  their  own  minds,  as  to  erase  and  blot  out  thence 
the  belief  of  an  existing  Deity,  yet  at  least,  while  they  de- 
ny it,  they  cannot  hut  have  this  notion  of  what  they  deny, 
and  grant  that  these  are  great  perfections,  and  must  agree 
to  God,  upon  supposition  that  he  do  exist.  If  therefore  he 
should  do  any  thing  repugnant  to  these,  or  we  should 
suppose  him  to  do  so,  we  should  therein  suppose  him 
to  act  below  a  God,  and  so  as  were  very  unworthy  of 
him.  And  though  it  becomes  us  to  be  very  diffident  of 
our  own  reasonings  concerning  the  counsels  and  designs 
of  that  eternal  Being;  so,  as  if  we  should  find  him  to 
assert  any  thing  expressly  of  himself,  which  we  know  not 
how  to  reconcile  with  our  own  preconceived  thoughts, 
therein  to  yield  him  the  cause,  and  confess  the  debility  of 
our  understandings  ;  yet  certainly,  it  were  great  rashness 
and  void  of  all  pretence,  to  suppose  any  thing  which  nei- 
ther he  saith  of  himself,  nor  we  know  how,  consistently, 
to  think.  Nor  are  we,  in  judging  of  his  designs,  to  bring 
him  down  to  our  model,  or  measure  him  by  man,  w^hose 
designs  do  for  the  most  part  bespeak  only  his  own  indi- 
gency, and  are  levelled  at  his  own  advantage  and  the  bet- 
tering some  way  or  other  of  his  present  condition.  What- 
soever the  great  God  doth  towards  his  creatures,  we  must 
understand  him  to  do,  though  with  design,  yet  from  an 
exuberant  fulness  of  life  and  being,  by  which  he  is  inca- 
pable of  an  accession  to  himself  And  hence  that  he 
can,  in  reference  to  himself,  have  no  other  inducement  to 
such  action,  besides  the  complacency  which  he  takes  in 
diffusing  his  free  communications,  (for  ^  he  exercises  loving 
kindness,  judgment,  and  righteousness  in  the  earth,  be- 
cause he  delighteth  in  these  things,)  and  the  maintaining 


i 


THE  VANITY  OF  MAN  AS  MORTAL. 


281 


the  just  honour  and  reputation  of  his  government  over  his 
creatures,  who  as  they  are  '^of  him,  and  through  him, 
must  be  all  to  him,  that  he  may  have  glory  for  ever. 

Now,  though  it  be   most   undoubtedly   true,  that   the 
sovereignty  of  his  power  and  dominion  over  his  creatures 
(of  which  he  hath  no  need,  and  to  whom  he  so  freely  gave 
being)  is  so  absolute  and  unlimited,  that  if  we  consider 
that  only,  we  must  acknowledge,  he  might  create  a  man 
or  an  angel,  and  annihilate  him  presently ;  yea,  that  he 
might,  if  he  so  pleased,  raise  up  many  thousand  worlds  of 
intelligent   and    innocent   creatures    into   being    in   one 
moment,  and  throw  them  into  nothing  again  the  very  next 
moment.     Yet  how  unwarrantably  should  we  maim  the 
notion  of  God,  if  we  should  conceive  of  him  only  accord- 
ing to  one  attribute,  secluding  the  consideration  of  the 
rest !  How  misshapen  an  idea  should  we  bear  of  him  in 
our  minds  !     And  how  would  it  deform  the  face  of  Pro- 
vidence, and  spoil  the  decorum  of  his  administrations,  if 
ihey  should  be  the  effects  of  one  single  attribute  only,  the 
other  having  no  influence  on  the  affairs  of  the  world  !  If 
nothing   but  viercy  should   appear   in   his  dispensatiims 
towards  sinful  man,  so  that  ev'ery  man  might  do  what  were 
good  in   his  own  eyes,  without  cause  of  fear  to  be  called 
to  account;  if  the  most  dissolute  and  profane  were  equally 
assured  of  his  favour,  with  those  who  are  most  holy  and 
strictly  regular  in  all  their  conversation,  what  would  be 
thought  of  God  and  religion  1     Or  how  should  we  savour 
ihe  notion  of  an  impure  deity,  takmg  pleasure  to  in<lulge 
the  wickedness  of  men  1     And  if  jiistice  alone  have  the 
whole  management  of  affairs,  and  every  act  of  sin  be  fal- 
lowed with  an  act  of  sudden  vengeance,  and  the  whole 
world  become  a  flaming  theatre,  and  all  men  held  in  a 
hopeless  expectation  of  fiery  indignation  and  of  judgment 
without  mercy,  what  would  become  of  that  amiable  repre- 
sentaiion,  and  the  consolatory  thoughts  we  have  of  God, 
and  of  that  love  and   duly   which   some   souls   do  bear 
towards  him  1     Or  if  poicer  should  affect  daily  to  show 
itself  in  unusual  appearances  and  effects,  in  changing  ever}' 
hour  the  shapes  of  the  terrestrial  creatures,  in  perpetual 
quick  innovations  of  the  courses  of  the  celestial,  with  a 
■:..ousand  more  kinds  of  prodigious  events  that  might  be 
the  hourly  effects  of  unlimited  power,  how  were  the  order 
of  the  world  disturbed,  and  how  unlovely  an  idea  would 
It  beget  in  every  intelligent  creature,  of  him  that  made  and 
rules  it !     Yet  is  it  from  no  defect  of  meraj,  that  all  men 
are  not  equally  favoured  and  blessed  of  God;  nor  oi  jus- 
tice, that  a  speedy  vengeance  is  not  taken  of  all ;  nor  of 
pov)er,  that  the  world  is  not  filled  with  astonishing  won- 
ders every  day ;  but  rather  from  their  unexcessiveness, 
and  that  they  make  that  blessed  temperature  where  they 
reside,   and  are  exercised   in   so  exact  proportion,   that 
nothing  is  ever  done  unworthy  of  him,  who  is,  at  once, 
both  perfectly  merciful,  and  just,  and  powerful,  and  wise, 
and  hath  all   perfections  eminently  comprehended   and 
united  in  his  own  most  simple  Being.     It  were  therefore 
besides  the  purpose  to  insist  only  what  sovereign  power, 
considered  apart,  might  do ;  but  we  are  to  consider  what 
may  be  congruous  to  him  to  do,  who  is  infinitely  wise  and 
good,  as  well  as  powerful. 

1.  And  first,  let  it  be  weighed,  how  it  may  square  with  the 
Divine  wisdom,  to  give  being  to  a  world  of  reasonable  crea- 
tures, and  giving  them  only  a  short  time  of  abode  in  being, 
to  abandon  them  to  a  perpetual  annihilation.  Wisdom 
in  any  agent  must  needs  suppose  the  intention  of  some 
valuable  end  of  his  action.  And  the  Divine  wisdom, 
wherein  it  hath  any  end  diverse  from  that  which  his  pure 
goodness  and  benignity  towards  his  creatures  would  in- 
cline him  to,  (which  also  we  must  conceive  it  most  intent 
to  promote  and  further,)  cannot  but  have  it  chiefly  in  de- 
.sigii ;  it  being  determined  that  his  goodness  should  open 
itself  and  break  forth  into  a  creation,  and  that  of  reason- 
able creatures,  so  to  manage  his  government  over  these 
(which  indeed  are  the  only  subjects  of  government  in  the 
strict  and  proper  notion  of  it)  as  may  most  preserve  his 
authority,  and  keep  up  his  just  interest  in  them,  both  by 
recommending  him  to  their  fear  and  love ;  to  pos.sess  them 
with  that  due  and  necessary  reverence  of  him  that  mav 
restrain  them  from  contemptuous  sinning;  and  so  endear 
his  government  to  them,  as  to  engage  them  to  a  placid  and 

c  Rom.  in.  38. 


free  obedience.     But  how  little  would  it  agree  with  this 
design  of  the  Divine  wisdom,  to  have  made  man  only  for 

this  temporary  state  !     For, 

1.  How  little  would  it  tend  to  the  begetting  and  set- 
tling that  fear  of  God  in  the  hearts  of  men,  that  were  ne- 
cessary to  preserve  his  authority  and  government  from  a 
profane  contempt ;  whereas  daily  experience  shows,  that 
there  is  now  no  difTcrence  made  between  them  that  fearGod 
and  them  that  tear  him  not,  unless  wherein  the  former  are 
worse  dealt  with  and  more  exposed  to  sufferings  and 
wrongs:  that,  at  least,  'tis  often  (3'ea  for  the  most  part) 
so,  that  to  depart  from  iniquity  is  to  make  oneself  a  yrey  ; 
that  those  who  profess  and  evidence  the  most  entire  devot- 
edness  to  God,  and  pay  the  greatest  observance  and  duly 
to  him,  become  a  common  scorn  upon  this  very  account, 
and  are  in  continual  danger  to  be  eaten  up  as  bread  by 
those  that  call  not  upon  God;  while  in  the  meantime  the 
tabernacles  of  robbers  prosper,  and  they  that  provoke  God 
are  secure,  are  not  plagued  as  other  men,  nor  in  trouble  as 
other  men.  And  judgment  is  not  here  executed  for  wicked 
works  in  this  world.  If  also  nothing  is  to  be  expected, 
either  of  good  or  evil,  in  another,  who  is  likely  to  be  in- 
duced, in  this  case,  to  fear  God  or  to  be  subject  to  him  1 
And  how  unlike  is  this  to  the  wisdom  of  the  Supreme 
Ruler,  to  expose  his  most  rightful  and  sovereign  authority 
to  the  fearless  and  insolent  affronts  of  his  own  revolted 
creatures,  without  any  design  of  future  reparation  to  it ;  as 
if  he  had  created  ihem  on  purpose  only  to  curse  him  and 
die !  But  he  hath  prevented  the  occasion  of  so  reproach- 
ful a  censure,  and  thought  fit  to  fill  his  word  and  the 
consciences  of  guilty  sinners  with  threats  and  dreadftil 
presages  of  a  future  judgment  and  slate  of  punishment. 
To  which  he  is  no  less  concerned,  both  in  point  of  wisdom 
and  veracity,  (and  I  may  add  of  legal  justice,)  to  make 
the  event  correspond,  that  he  may  neither  be  found  to 
have  omitted  any  due  course  for  preventing  or  redress 
of  so  great  an  evil;  and  that,  if  the  threatening  do 
not  effectually  over-awe  sinners,  the  execution  may  at 
least  right  himself:  and  that,  in  the  meantime,  he  do 
not  (that  which  would  least  of  all  become  him,  and  which 
were  most  repugnant  to  his  nature)  make  use  of  a  solemn 
fiction  to  keep  the  world  in  order,  and  maintain  his  govern- 
ment by  falsehood  and  deceit,  that  is.  by  threatening  what 
he  knows  shall  never  be. 

2.  Nor  were  there  (in  the  case  all  along  supposed)  a 
more  probable  provision  made,  to  conciliate  and  procure  to 
the  Divine  majesty  the  love  which  it  is  requisite  he  should 
have  from  the  children  of  men.  And  this  cannot  but  be 
thought  another  apt  method  for  his  wisdom  to  pitch  upon, 
to  render  his  government  acceptable,  and  to  engage  men  to 
that  free  and  complaceniial  subjection  which  is  suitable  to 
God.  For  how  can  that  filial  and  dutiful  affection  ever 
be  the  genuine  product  or  impress  of  such  a  representation 
of  the  case  between  God  and  them;  that  is,  that  they  shall 
be  most  indispensably  obliged  to  devote  their  whole  being 
and  all  their  powers  entirely  to  his  service  and  interest; 
exactly  to  observe  his  .strictest  laws,  to  keep  under  the  se- 
verest restraint  their  most  innate,  reluctant  inclinations; 
and  in  the  meantime  expect  the  administrations  of  Provi- 
dence to  be  such,  towards  them,  that  they  shall  find  harder 
usage  all  their  days  than  his  most  insolent  and  irreconcil- 
able enemies,  and  at  last  lose  their  very  beings,  they  know 
not  how  soon,  and  therewith  (necessarily)  all  possibilities 
of  any  future  recompense.  Is  this  a  likely  way  to  procure 
love,  and  to  captivate  hearts  into  an  affectionate  and  free 
obedience  '?  Or  what  is  it  probable  to  produce,  but  a  sour 
and  sullen  despondency,  the  extinction  of  all  generous 
affection,  and  a  temper  more  agreeable  to  a  forced  enthral- 
ment  to  some  malii^nant,  insulting  genius,  than  a  willing 
subjection  to  the  God  of  all  grace  and  lovel  And  every 
one  will  be  ready  to  say.  There  is  little  of  wisdom  in  that 
government,  the  administration  whereof  is  neitlier  apt  to 
beget  fear  nor  love  in  those  that  are  subject  to  it ;  but 
either  through  the  want  of  the  one  to  he  despised,  or 
to  be  regretted  through  the  want  of  the  other.  And  this 
being  the  very  case,  upon  supposition  of  no  future  state,  it 
seems  altogether  unworthy  of  the  Divine  Avisdom,  that  such 
a  creature  should  ever  have  been  made  as  man,  upon 
which  no  end  is  attainable,  (as  the  course  of  providence 


283 


THE  VANITY  OF  MAN  AS  MORTAL. 


commonly  runs  in  this  world,)  in  comparison  whereof,  it 
were  not  better  and  more  honourable  to  his  Maker,  (whose 
interest  it  is  the  part  of  his  wisdom  to  cunsult,)  that  he 
had  never  been.  And  therefore,  as  to  God  and  the  just 
and  worthy  designs  of  his  glory,  he  would  seem,  upon  this 
supposition,  wholly  made  in  vain. 

2.  And  secondly.  How  congruous  and  agreeable  would 
this  supposition  prove  to  the  goodness  of  Godi  As  that 
other  attribute  of  wisdom  doth  more  especially  respect  his 
own  interest,  so  doth  this  the  interest  of  his  creatures : 
that  is,  if  it  be  understood,  not  in  a  metaphysical,  but  in  a 
moral,  sense ;  as  it  imports  a  propensity  and  steady  bent 
of  will  unto  benefaction,  according  to  that  of  the  Psalmist, 
Thou  art  good,  and  dost  good.d  And  this  free  and  gene- 
lous  principle  it  is,  which  gives  the  first  rise  and  begin- 
ning to  all  the  designs  any  way  respecting  the  well-being 
and  happiness  of  creatures ;  which  then  infinite  wisdom 
forms  and  manages  to  their  full  issues  and  accomplishment, 
guiding  (as  it  were)  the  hand  of  almighty  power  in  the  ex- 
ecution of  them. 

That  there  should  be  a  creation,  we  may  conceive  to  be 
the  first  dictate  of  this  immense  goodness,  which  afterwards 
diflTuses  itself  through  the  whole,  in  communications  agree- 
able to  the  nature  of  every  creature.  So  that  even  this  in- 
ferior and  less  noble  part,  the  earth,  is  full  of  the  goodness 
of  the  Lord.«  It  creates  first  its  own  object,  and  then  pours 
ibrth  itself  upon  it  with  infinite  delight,  rewarding  the  ex- 
pense with  the  pleasure  of  doing  good.  Now  if  we  should 
suppose  such  a  creature  as  man  made  only  for  that  short 
time  and  low  state  which  we  see  to  be  allotted  him  in  this 
world,  it  were  neither  difficult  nor  enough  to  reconcile  the 
hypothesis  with  strict  justice,  which  upon  the  ground  of  ab- 
solute dominion  may  do  what  it  will  with  its  own :  but  the 
ill  accord  it  seems  to  have  with  so  large  and  abounding 
goodness,  renders  it  very  unlike  the  dispensation  of  the 
blessed  God  ;  no  enjoyment  being  in  that  case  afforded  to 
this  sort  of  creatures,  agreeable  to  their  common  nature 
and  capacity,  either  in  degree  or  continuance. 

Not  in  degree. :  for  who  sees  not,  that  the  nature  of  man 
is  capable  of  greater  things  than  he  here  enjoys "?  And 
where  that  capacity  is  rescued  from  the  corruption  that 
narrows  and  debases  it,  how  sensibly  do  holy  souls  resent 
and  bewail  their  present  state,  as  a  state  of  imperfection  ! 
With  how  fervent  and  vehement  desires  and  groans  do 
they  aspire  and  pant  after  a  higher  and  more  perfect !  We 
that  are  in  this  tabernacle  do  groan,  being  burdened  ;  not 
for  that  we  would  be  unclothed, f  (that  is  not  enough,  to 
be  delivered  out  of  the  miseries  of  life,  by  laying  doAvn 
this  passive  part,  is  not  that  which  will  terminate  their  de- 
sires,) but  clothed  upon,  that  mortality  might  be  swallowed 
up  of  life.  Theirs  are  not  brutal  groans,  the  complaint  of 
oppressed  sensitive  nature  under  a  present  evil ;  but  ra- 
tional and  spiritual,  the  expressions  of  desire  strongly  car- 
ried to  pursue  an  apprehended  suitable  good.  The  "truest 
notion  we  can  yet  have  of  the  primitive  nature  and  capacity 
of  man,  is  by  beholding  it  in  its  gradual  restitution.  And 
is  it  agreeable  to  the  goodness  of  God,  to  put  such  a  nature 
into  any,  and  withhold  the  suitable  object  1  As  if  it  were 
a  pleasure  to  him,  to  behold  the  work  of  his  hands  spending 
itself  in  weary  strugglings  towards  him,  and  vexed  all  the 
while  it  continues  in  being,  with  the  desire  of  what  it  shall 
never  enjoy ;  and  which  he  hath  made  it  desire,  and  there- 
in encouraged  it  to  expect  1 

Nor  in  contlnvance:  for  I  suppose  it  already  evident, 
that  the  nature  of  man  is  capable  (in  respect  of  his  principal 
part)  of  perpetuity,  and  so  of  enjoying  a  felicity  hereafter 
that  shall  be  permanent  and  know  no  end.  And  it  seems 
no  way  congruous  to  so  large  goodness,  to  stifle  a  capacity 
whereof  it  was  itself  the  author,  and  destroy  its  own  work. 
For  if  the  being  of  man  is  intended  for  so  short  a  continu- 
ance, either  he  may  have  the  knowledge  of  this  determina- 
tion concerning  him,  or  not.  If  he  cannot  have  the  know- 
ledge of  it,  why  should  any  one  say  what  they  cannot 
know  ;  or  put  such  a  thing  upon  God,  that  is  so  vilely 
reflecting  and  dishonourable  to  him  1  If  he  may  have  the 
knowledge  of  it,  then  doth  he  seem  a  creature  made  for 
torment,  while  by  an  easy  reflection  upon  himself  he  may 
discern,  he  is  not  incapable  of  a  perpetual  stale,  and  is  yet 
brought  forth  into  the  light  to  be  ere  long  extinguished 
d  P3al.  exix.  S8.  e  Psal.  xxxiii.  5. 


and  shut  up  in  everlasting  darkness.  And  who  can  thmk 
this  a  thing  worthy  of  infinite  and  eternal  goodness  1  Be- 
sides, (as  hath  been  insisted  before,)  that  this  torture,  pro- 
ceeding from  so  sad  an  expectation,  cannot  but  be  most 
grievous  and  afflictive  to  the  best.  Whence  the  apostle 
tells  us,'  that  Christians,  if  in  this  life  only  they  had  hope, 
were  of  all  men  most  miserable :  so  that  it  were  more  de- 
sirable never  to  have  been.  If  any  yet  fall  hereafter  into  a 
state  to  which  they  would  prefer  perpetual  annihilation, 
inasmuch,  as  it  is  wholly  by  their  own  default,  it  no  way 
reflects  upon  Divine  goodness.  But  it  would  be  a  dis- 
honourable reflection  rather  upon  that  Author  and  Foun- 
tain of  all  goodness,  if  he  should  not  express  himself  wise 
and  just  as  well  as  good  ;  as  it  would  upon  a  man,  espe- 
cially a  ruler  over  others,  if  that  which  we  call  good-nature 
were  conjunct  with  stolidity,  or  an  insensibleness  of  what- 
soever affronts  to  his  person  and  government.  Upon  the 
Avhole,  therefore,  it  seems  most  repugnant  to  these  great 
attributes  of  the  Divine  Being,  to  have  made  man  only  for 
this  present  state.  That  to  think  so,  were  to  conceive  un- 
worthily, of  him,  as  if  he  had  acted  much  beneath  himself, 
and  done  a  vain  thing  in  making  such  a  creature,  no  end 
being  attainable  by  it,  which  we  can  suppose  either  his 
wisdom  or  goodness  to  aim  at. 

If  any  would  imagine  to  themselves  an  expedient,  by 
supposing  an  eternal  succession  of  human  generations, 
upon  whom  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  God  might  have  a 
perpetual  exercise  in  the  government  and  sustentation  ol 
them  for  their  appointed  times :  this  would  be  far  from  sa- 
tisfying as  to  either,  but  would  rather  increase  the  difficulty ; 
for  there  would  be  the  same  temptation  upon  all  the  indi- 
viduals, to  contemn  or  regret  the  government  of  their 
Maker.  So  that  he  should  hereby  even  eternize  his  own 
reproach  ;  and  should  always,  in  every  succession,  have 
still  the  same  craving  appetites  returning,  and  expectations 
never  to  be  satisfied,  which  were  as  repugnant  to  all  he 
hath  discovered  to  us  of  his  nature,  as  any  thing  we  can 
suppose.  Though  some  persons  of  a  light  and  desultory 
humour,  might  imagine  to  themselves  a  pleasure  in  it,  if 
they  had  the  power  to  make  such  a  rotation  of  things, 
rising  and  falling,  coming  and  passing  awa)',  at  their  beck 
and  command  ;  and  such  as  were  of  a  .'sanguinary  temper, 
might  sport  themselves  in  raising  up  and  lopping  ofif  lives 
at  pleasure  with  an  arbitrary  hand  :  yet  sure  they  would 
never  gain  by  it  the  esteem  of  being  either  wise  or  good; 
and  would,  'tis  like,  in  time  grow  weary  of  the  sport.  But 
to  form  to  ourselves  such  ideas  of  the  blessed  God,  were 
an  injury  not  inferior  to  the  very  denial  of  his  being. 

His  providence  towards  the  inferior  creatures  hath  no 
resemblance  of  any  such  thing ;  whom  his  bounty  sustains 
agreeably  to  their  natures,  who  have  no  foresight  of  their 
own  cessation  from  being,  to  keep  them  in  a  continual 
death  by  the  expectation  of  it ;  and  who  serve  to  valuable 
and  reasonable  purposes  while  they  are  continued  ;  for  they 
are  useful,  partly  to  the  sustentation  of  man,  and  partly  to 
his  instruction,  in  order  to  his  higher  ends.  And  though 
each  individual  of  them  do  not  actually  so,  it  is  sufficient 
that  the  several  kinds  of  them  are  naturally  apt  thereto, 
which  are  propagated  according  to  a  settled  course  and  law 
of  nature,  in  their  individuals.  And  if  all  immediately 
serve  not  man,  yet  they  do  it  mediately,  in  serving  those 
that  more  immediately  do.  Besides,  that  when  such  a 
work  was  to  be  done,  as  the  furnishing  out  and  accom- 
plishing this  lower  world;  it  was  meet  all  things  should 
be  in  number,  weight,  and  measure,  and  correspond  in 
every  part.  As  if  one  build  a  house  for  entertainment, 
though  the  more  noble  rooms  only  do  come  in  view,  yet  all 
the  rest  are  made  answerably  decent,  on  supposition  that 
they  may.  It  was  becoming  the  august  and  great  Lord  of 
this  world,  that  it  have  in  it,  not  only  what  may  sustain 
the  indigent,  but  gratify  the  contemplative  by  fresh  variety ; 
who  would  be  apt  to  grow  remiss  by  conversing  only  with 
what  were  of  every  day's  observation.  Nor  was  that  a  low 
end,  when  such  contemplation  hath  so  direct  a  tendency  to 
raise  a  considering  mind  to  the  sight,  and  love,  and  praise 
of  the  Supreme  Being,  that  hathstamped  so  lively  signatures 
and  prints  of  his  own  perfections  upon  all  his  works.  If  it 
be  said,  man  might  be  in  the  same  kind  serviceable  to  the 
contemplation  of  angels,  though  he  were  himself  never  to 

f  1  Cor.  V.  4.  g  1  Cor.  xv.  19. 


THE  VANITY  OF  MAN  AS  MORTAL. 


•2S3 


knoTV  any  other  than  this  mortal  state ;  'tis  true  that  he 
might  so;  but  yet  the  incongruities  were  no  way  salved, 
of  God's  putting  a  capacity  and  expectation  into  his  na- 
ture of  a  better  state:  of  his  dealing  so  hardly  with  them, 
that  he  hath  procured  to  love  him:  of  his  never  vindica- 
ting their  high  contempt  that  spent  their  days  in  rebellion 
against  him.  Besides,  that  these  were  ill  precedents,  and 
no  pleasant  themes  for  the  view  of  an  angelical  mind. 
And  if  they  see  a  nature  extinct,  capable  of  their  stale, 
what  might  they  suspect  of  their  own  1  So  that,  which 
■way  soever  we  turn  our  thoughts,  we  still  see  that  man's 
mortality  and  Uableness  to  an  unavoidable  death,  ab- 
stracted from  the  thoughts  of  another  state,  carry  that 
constant  aspect,  as  if  all  men  were  made  in  vain. 

Wtiat  remains  then,  but  that  we  conclude  hence,  we 
ought  not  too  much,  or  too  long,  thus  to  abstract,  nor  too 
closely  confine  our  eye  to  this  dark  and  gloomy  theme, 
death  and  the  grave,  or  withhold  it  from  looking  further. 
For  far  be  it  from  us  to  think  the  wise  and  Hol)^  God  hath 
given  being  to  man  (and  consequently  exercised  a  long 
continued  series  of  providence  through  so  many  successive 
ages  towards  him)  in  vain.  Nothing  but  a  prospect  of  an- 
other state  can  solve  the  knot  and  work  through  the  pre- 
sent ditiiculty,  can  give  us  a  true  account  of  man  and  what 
he  was  made  for.  Therefore  since  it  would  be  profane 
and  impious,  sad  and  uncomfortable,  a  blasphemy  to  our 
Maker,  a  torture  to  ourselves,  to  speak  it  as  our  settled  ap- 
prehension and  judgment,  that  God  hath  made  man  to  no 
purpose;  we  are  obliged  and  concerned,  both  in  justice  to 
him  and  compassion  to  ourselves,  so  to  represent  the  case, 
as  that  we  may  be  able  to  remove  so  unworthy  and  black 
a  thought  to  the  greatest  distance  from  us,  both  in  itself 
and  whatsoever  practice  would  be  consequent  thereto :  that 
is,  to  conclude,  That  certainly  there  must  be  another  state 
after  this,  and  accordingly  steer  our  course. — The  Im- 
provement then  of  the  foregoing  discourse  will  have  a  dou- 
ble aspect : — on  our  judgments,  and  practice. 

1.  On  our  judgments.  To  settle  this  great  principle  of 
truth  in  them.  The  certam  futurity  of  another  state  after 
this  lite  is  over,  unto  which  this  present  state  is  only  pre- 
paratory and  introduetive.  For  whereas  we  can  nevergive 
a  rational  account  why  such  a  creature  as  man  was  made, 
if  we  confine  all  our  apprehensions  concerning  him  to  his 
present  state  on  earth:  let  them  once  transcend  those  nar- 
row limits,  fly  over  into  eternity,  and  behold  him  made  for 
an  everlasting  state  t'creafter,  and  the  difficulty  now  van- 
ishes, the  whole  affair  looks  with  a  comely  and  befitting 
aspect. 

For  we  may  now  represent  the  case  thus  to  ourselves  : 
that  man  was  put  into  this  terrestrial  state  and  dwelling,  by 
the  wise  and  righteous  designation  of  his  great  Creator  ami 
Lord,  that  his  loyalty  to  him,  amidst  the  temptations  and 
enticements  of  sensible  things,  might  be  tried  awhile :  that 
revolting  from  him,  he  is  only  left  to  feel  here  the  just 
smart  of  his  causeless  defection;  that  yet  such  further  me- 
thods are  used  for  his  recovery,  as  are  most  suitable  to  his 
so  unpaired  state.  An  allayed  light  shines  to  him  in  the 
midst  of  darkness,  that  his  feebler  eye  may  receive  a  gra- 
dual illumination,  and  behold  God  in  those  more  obscure 
discoveries  which  he  now  vouchsafesof  himself  till  by  de- 
grees he  be  won  to  take  up  ^ood  thoughts  of  him,  and  re- 
turn into  an  acquaintance  and  friendship  with  him  ;  which 
once  begun  here,  shall  be  hereafter  perfected  in  eternal 
fruitions.  The  offence  and  wrong  done  to  his  Maker,  he 
in  a  strange  unthought-of  way  makes  compensation  of  to 
himself;  and  testifies  his  reconcileableness,  and  persuades 
a  reconciliation  upon  such  terms,  and  b}^  so  endearing  me- 
diums, as  might  melt  and  mollify  hearts  of  adamant ;  and 
shall  effectually  prevail  with  many  to  yield  themselves 
the  subjects  and  instances  of  his  admired  goodness  for  ever; 
while  others  lie  only  under  the  natural  consequents  and 
just  resentments  of  their  unremedied  enmity  and  folly.  So 
are  the  glorious  issues  of  God's  dis^pensation  towards  man, 
and  the  wise  and  merciful  conduct  of  his  equal  govern- 
ment, worthily  celebrated  through  the  days  of  eternity  with 
just  acclamation  and  praises.  We  can  fasten  upon  nothing 
exceptionable  or  unaccountable,  yea,  or  that  is  not  highly 
laudable  and  praise-worthy,  in  this  course  of  procedure. 
Therefore,  though  now  we  behold  a  dark  cloud  of  mortal- 
ity hanging  over  the  whole  human  race  ;  though  we  see  the 


grave  still  devouring  and  still  unsatisfied,  and  that  all  are 
successively  drawn  down  into  it ;  and  we  puzzle  ourselves 
to  assign  a  reason  why  such  a  creature  was  made  a  rea- 
.sonable  being,  capable  of  an  everlasting  duration,  to  visit 
the  world  only  and  vanish,  to  ccm verse  a  short  space  with 
objects  and  affairs  so  far  beneath  it,  and  retire  we  know 
not  whither:  if  yet  our  eye  follow  him  thmugh  the  dark 
paths  of  the  region  of  death,  till  at  the  next  appearance  we 
behold  him  clothed  with  inimorlality  and  fitted  to  an  end- 
less state,  the  wonder  is  over,  and  our  amasement  quickly 
ceases. 

Wherefore  let  us  thus  bethink  ourselves,  and  consider : 
Surely  he  that  made  this  great  universe,  and  disposed  all 
the  sorts,  stations,  and  motions  of  creatures  in  it  in  so  ex- 
quisite order  and  method,  cannot  but  be  a  most  perfectly 
wise  and  intellectual  agent,  and  therefore  cannot  be  sup- 
posed to  have  done  any  thing  to  no  purpose;  much  less 
when  all  the  inferior  creatures  have  ends  visibly  answer- 
ing the  exigency  of  their  natures,  to  have  made  so  excel- 
lent a  creature  as  man  (the  nobler  part  of  his  lower  crea- 
tion) in  vain;  that  he  only  should  be  without  his  propor- 
tionable end,  and  after  a  .short  continuance  in  being,  re- 
turn to  nothing,  -without  leaving  it  conjeclurable  what  he 
was  made  for.  This  were  so  intolerable  an  incongruity,  and 
.so  unlike  the  footsteps  that  every  where  else  appear  in  the 
Divine  wisdom  and  goodness,  that  we  cannot  but  inquire 
further  into  this  matter,  and  conclude  at  la.st,  that  he  was 
made  for  some  higher  purposes  than  arc  within  the  reach  of 
our  sight,  and  hath  his  principal  part  3-et  to  act  upon  an- 
other stage,  within  the  veil,  that  shall  never  be  taken  down. 
The  future  immortality  of  man  seems  therefore  so  cer- 
tainly grounded  upon  what  is  discovered  and  generally  ac- 
knowledged touching  the  nature  of  God  and  his  most  pe- 
culiar and  essential  perfections,  that  unless  we  were  fur- 
ther put  to  prove  the  existence  of  a  God,  (which  to  them 
that  are  rational  need  not,  and  to  them  that  are  not  were  in 
vain,)  there  can  no  reasonable  doubl  remain  concerning  it 

2.  Wherefore  the  further  use  we  have  to  make  of  the 
matter  proposed,  is  in  reference  to  our  practice  :  which  it 
may  fitly  serve  both  to  correct  and  reprove,  and  also  U> 
direct  and  guide. 

I.  It  administers  the  ground  of  just  rebuke ;  that  since, 
if  we  terminate  our  thoughts  and  designs  upon  things  onl)' 
on  this  side  the  grave,  it  would  seem  we  were  wholly 
made  in  vain;  and  we  do  yet  so  generally  employ  our 
cares  and  endeavours  about  such  things,  and  even  the  vi- 
lest and  most  despicable  of  these;  and  so  live  not  to  our 
own  dishonour  only,  but  to  tiie  reproach  of  our  IMaker,  as 
if  he  made  us  for  no  more  worthy  ends.  And  let  us  but 
impartiall)'  debate  the  matter  with  ourselves  ;  Can  we,  in 
sober  reason,  think  we  were  made  only  for  such  eiids  as 
the  most  only  pursue?  have  we  an)'  pretence  to  think  sol 
or  can  it  enter  into  our  souls  to  believe  it  ?  Would  not 
men  be  ashamed  to  profess  such  a  belief;  or  to  have  it 
written  in  their  foreheads,  these  are  the  onVy  ends  they  ar-e 
capable  of?  Then  might  one  read,  such  a  man  born  to  put 
others  in  mind  of  his  predecessor's  name,  and  only  lest 
such  a  family  should  want  an  heir  :  such  a  one  loconsvune 
such  an  estate,  and  devour  the  provenue  of  so  man}' farms 
and  manors:  such  a  one  to  fill  so  man}'  bags  and  coffers 
to  sustain  the  riot  of  him  that  su'-ceeds;  some  created  lo 
see  ai)d  make  sport;  to  run  after  hawks  and  dogs,  or  spend 
the  time  which  their  weariness  redeems  from  converse 
with  brutes,  in  making  themselves  such,  by  drinking 
away  the  little  residue  of  wit  and  reason  they  liave  left; 
mixing  with  this  genteel  exercise,  their  impure  and  scur- 
rilous drolleries,  thai  they  may  !  efriend  one  another  \\\\h. 
the  kind  occasion  of  proving  themselves  to  be  yet  of  human 
race,  by  this  only  demonstration  remaining  to  them,  that 
they  can  laugh  ;  which  medium,  if  the  wisdom  of  (he  just 
were  known,  would  be  found  sopregnant  as  to  afford  them 
a  double  conclusion,  and  be  as  effectual,  oftentimes,  to 
{)rove  them  fools  as  men.  Others  one  might  read  born  to 
trouble  the  world,  to  disquiet  the  neighbourhood,  and  be 
the  common  plague  of  all  about  them ;  at  least,  if  they 
have  any  within  their  reach  and  power  that  are  wiser  and 
more  sober  than  tliemselvcs,  or  that  value  not  their  souls 
at  so  cheap  a  rate  as  they  :  others  made  to  blaspheme  their 
Maker,  to  rent  the  sacred  name  of  God,  and  make  proof 
of  their  high  valour  and  the  gallantry  of  their  bravespirits. 


284 


THE  VANITY  OP  MAN  AS  MORTAL. 


by  bidding  a  defiance  to  Heaven,  and  proclaiming  their 
heroic  contempt  of  the  Deity  and  of  all  religion.  As  if 
they  had  persuaded  themselves  into  an  opinion,  that  be- 
cause they  have  had  so  prosperous  success  in  the  high 
achievements  of  conquering  their  humanity,  and  baffling 
their  own  fear,  and  reason,  and  conscience,  death  also  will 
yield  them  as  ea.sy  a  victory,  or  be  afraid  to  encounter  men 
of  so  redoubted  courage;  that  the  God  of  heaven,  rather 
than  offend  them,  will  not  stick  to  repeal  his  laws  for  their 
sakes,  or  never  exact  the  observance  of  them  from  persons 
of  their  quality;  that  they  shall  never  be  called  to  judg- 
ment, or  be  complimented  only  there  with  great  respect, 
as  persons  that  bore  much  sway  in  their  country,  and  could 
number  so  many  hundreds  or  thousands  a  year;  that  at 
least,  the  infernal  flames  will  never  presume  to  touch  so 
worthy  personages;  that  devils  will  be  awed  by  their 
greatness,  and  fear  to  seize  them,  lest  they  should  take  it 
for  an  affront.  No  conceit  can  be  imputed  to  these  men 
absurd  enough  to  over-match  the  absurdity  of  their  prac- 
tice. They  can  themselves  think  nothing  more  gross  and 
shameful  than  what  they  daily  are  not  ashamed  to  act. 
For  what  absurdity  can  be  compassed  in  a  thought  greater 
than  what  appears  in  acourseof  life  managed  in  perpetual 
hostility  to  all  principles  of  reason  and  humanity  1  And 
either  they  must  own  all  the  impious  folly  of  such  thoughts, 
or  confess,  upon  other  accounts,  an  equal  infatuation  in 
their  thinking  faculty  itself.  For  either  they  think  their 
course  justifiable,  or  they  do  not.  If  they  do,  how  fatally 
are  all  things  inverted  in  their  depraved  minds !  Wisdom 
and  folly,  virtue  and  vice,  good  and  evil,  seem  to  them 
transformed  into  one  another,  and  are  no  longer  to  be 
known  by  their  own  names.  The  common  notions  of  all 
mankind  are  but  blind  fancies  in  comparison  of  their  later 
and  clearer  illumination  :  and  the  ancient  religious  senti- 
ments of  all  former  ages,  dreams  and  follies  to  their  ad- 
mired new  light.  Their  wise  and  rare  discoveries,  that 
they  and  all  things  came  by  chance,  that  this  world  hath 
no  owner  or  Lord,  (because  they  never  had  wit  or  patience 
to  consider  the  nonsense  of  them  ;  and  though  they  never, 
any  of  them,  had  the  luck  to  see  one  clod  of  earth,  or 
grain  of  sand,  start  up  into  being  out  of  nothing  ;  much 
less  ground  to  think,  that  such  a  world  should  of  itself  do 
so.)  are  reason  enough  with  them,  to  mock  at  the  Eternal 
Being,  and  attempt  to  jeer  religion  out  of  the  world,  and 
all  other  men  out  of  their  reason  and  wits,  as  they  have 
themselves.  And  sure  this  must  be  their  only  pretence, 
and  their  atheism  the  best  reason,  upon  which  to  justify 
their  constant  practice.  For  who  can  think  (while  he  sees 
them  not  yet  in  chains)  they  should  be  so  perfectly  mad,  as 
to  acknowledge  only  such  a  Deity  (the  Author  and  Ruler 
of  all  things)  whose  favour  were  worth  nothing,  or  to  be 
procured  by  affronts  ;  to  whom  contempt  were  a  sacrifice, 
and  the  violation  of  whatsoever  is  sacred,  the  most  effect- 
ual propitiation  1  or  acknowledge  him  for  a  God,  whom 
they  hope  to  overpower,  and  to  prosper  in  a  war  against  him  1 
And  if  they  acknowledge  none  at  all,  and  this  be  the 
fundamental  article  of  their  creed,  that  there  is  indeed 
none :  (hen  can  no  man  charge  them  with  any  thought  more 
grossly  foolish  than  their  own  ;  nor  can  they  devise  to  say 
any  thing,  by  which  more  certainly  to  argue  themselves 
bereft  of  the  common  understanding  of  men.  For  who 
that  is  not  so,  if  he  only  take  notice  of  his  own  being,  may 
not  as  certainly  conclilde  the  existence  of  a  God,  as  that 
two  and  two  make  four  1  Or  what  imagination  can  be  too 
absurd  to  have  place  in  that  mind,  that  can  imagine  this 
creation  to  be  a  casualty?  He  would  be  thought  besides 
himself  that  should  say  the  same  of  the  composition  of  a 
clock  or  a  watch,  though  it  were  a  thousand  times  more 
supposable.  But  if  they  do  not  jtistify  themselves,  to  what 
purj)ose  is  it  further  to  press  them  with  absurdities,  that 
persist  in  constant  self-contradiction;  or  that  have  not  so 
much  left  them  of  rational  sensation,  as  to  feel  in  their  own 
minds  the  pressure  of  the  very  greatest  absurdity  1  If  they 
only  presume  they  do  well,  because  they  have  never  asked 
themselves  the  question,  or  spent  any"thoughts  about  it; 
this  speaks  as  much  a  besotted  mind  as  any  of  the  rest, 
and  is  as  unworthy  of  a  reasonable  creature.  Why  have 
they  the  power  of  thinking  1  Or  who  do  in  any  case  more 
generally  incur  the  censure  of  imprudence  and  folly,  than 
they  who  have  only  this  plea  for  their  actions,  that  they 


did  not  consider  1  Especially  when  the  case  is  so  plain, 
and  the  most  sudden  reflection  would  discover  the  iniquity 
and  danger  of  their  course.  And  one  would  think  nothing 
should  be  more  obvious,  or  more  readily  occur  to  the  mind 
of  a  man,  than  to  contemplate  himself,  and  taking  notice 
there  is  such  a  creature  in  the  world,  furnished  with  such 
abilities  and  powers  to  consider,  what  was  I  made  for  1 
what  am  I  to  pitch  upon  as  my  proper  end  1  nor  any  thing 
appear  more  horrid  to  him,  than  to  cross  the  very  ends  oi 
his  creation. 

2.  It  may  also  be  improved  to  the  directing  of  our  prac- 
tice. For  which  purpose  we  may  hence  take  this  general 
rule,  that  it  be  such  as  becomes  the  expectation  of  a  future 
state  : — for  what  else  is  left  us,  since  in  our  present  state 
we  behold  nothing  but  vanity  1  We  see  thus  stands  out 
case,  that  we  must  measure  ourselves  by  one  of  these  ap- 
prehensions; either — we  are  made  in  vain,  or — we  are 
made  for  a  future  state.  And  can  we  endure  to  live  ac- 
cording to  the  former,  as  if  Me  were  impertinencies  in  the 
creation,  and  had  no  proper  business  in  if?  What  ingen- 
uous person  would  not  blush  to  be  always  in  the  posture 
of  a  useless  hang-by  ;  to  be  still  hanging  on,  where  he  hath 
nothing  to  do  ;  that  if  he  be  asked.  Sir,  what's  your  busi- 
ness here  1  he  hath  nothing  to  sa)\  Or  how  can  we  bear 
it,  to  live  as  if  we  came  into  the  world  by  chance,  or  rather 
by  mistake,  as  though  our  creation  had  been  a  misadven- 
ture, a  thing  that  would  not  have  been  done  had  it  been 
better  thought  on  1  And  that  our  Maker  had  overshot 
himself,  and  been  guilty  of  an  oversight  in  giving  us  such 
a  being  1  Who,  that  hath  either  just  value  for  himself,  or 
any  reverence  for  his  Maker,  could  endure  either  to  un- 
dergo the  reproach,  or  be  guilty  of  the  blasphemy,  which 
this  would  import  1  And  who  can  acquit  himself  of  the 
one  or  the  other,  that  lives  not  in  some  measure  agreeably 
to  the  expectation  of  somewhat  beyond  this  present  lifel 
Let  us,  therefore,  gird  up  the  loins  of  our  minds,  and  set 
our  faces  as  persons  designing  for  another  world  ;  so  sha- 
ping our  course,  that  all  things  may  concur  to  signify  to 
men  the  greatness  of  our  expectations.  We  otherwise 
proclaim  to  the  world  (to  our  own  and  our  Creator's 
wrong)  that  we  have  reasonable  souls  given  us  to  no  pur- 
pose. We  are,  therefore,  concerned  and  obliged  both  to 
aim  at  that  worthy  end,  and  to  discover  and  make  it  visi- 
ble that  we  do  so. 

Nor  is  a  design  for  an  immortal  state  so  mean  and  in- 
glorious, or  so  irrational  and  void  of  a  solid  ground,  that 
we  have  any  cause  either  to  decline  or  conceal  it ;  either 
not  to  retain,  or  to  be  ashamed  of  our  hope.  Nor  is  there 
any  thing  to  be  done  in  prosecution  of  it,  so  unworthy  as 
to  need  a  comer,  or  merit  to  be  done  as  a  work  of  dark- 
ness. Neither  yet  is  it  a  vain- glorious  ostentation,  or  the 
affectation  of  making  show  of  an  excellency  above  the  vul- 
gar pitch,  that  I  persuade  to,  but  a  modest  sober  avowing 
of  our  design  and  hope;  neither  making  any  near  approach 
to  a  proud  arrogance  on  the  one  hand,  nor  a  mean  pusil- 
lanimity on  the  other.  Truly  great  and  generous  spirits 
know  how  to  carry  under  secular  honour  with  that  pru- 
dent and  graceful  decorum,  as  shall  signify  a  just  owning 
of  themselves  without  insolence  towards  others.  Real 
worth,  though  it  do  not  vaunt,  will  show  itself;  and  while 
it  doth  not  glare,  yet  cannot  forbear  to  shine.  We  should 
endeavour  the  excellency  of  a  spirit  refined  from  earth  and 
dross,  and  aspiring  towards  a  state  of  immortalitj^,  may  ex- 
press itself,  and  shine  in  its  native  lustre ;  with  its  mvn, 
not  with  borroved  beams;  with  a  constant,  even,  natural, 
not  with  an  unequal,  artificial  light;  that  all  that  will  may 
see,  by  the  steady  tendency  of  our  course,  that  we  are  aim- 
ing at  the  great  things  of  another  world ;  though  we  all 
the  while  are  not  so  much  solicitous  to  have  our  end  and 
purpose  known,  as  to  obtain  it. 

And  verily,  since  the  vile  sons  of  the  earth,  the  men  of 
sense,  that  aim  at  no  other  end  than  to  gratify  their  brutal 
appetite  with  such  pleasure  as  is  only  to  be  compassed 
within  a  short  life's  time  in  this  world,  and  who  live  to  the 
reproach  of  their  Maker  and  of  mankind ;  do  not  go  about 
to  hide  the  infamy  of  their  low  design,  or  conceal  the  de- 
generous  baseness  of  their  mean  spirits;  but  while  they 
make  their  belly  their  God,  and  only  mind  earthly  thing.s, 
do  also  glory  in  their  shame ;  how  much  were  it  beneath 
the  state  and  spirit  of  the  sons  of  God,  that  are  worthily 


THE  VANITY  OF  MAN  AS  MORTAL. 


285 


designing  for  a  glorious  immortality,  to  be  ashamed  of 
their  glory,  or  think  of  stealing  a  passage  to  heaven  in  the 
dark !  No  :  let  them  know,  it  is  not  only  too  mean  a  thing 
for  them  to  involve  themselves  in  the  common  spirit  of  the 
sensual  world,  but  even  to  seem  to  do  so :  and  that  this  is 
so  foul  and  ignominious  a  thing,  as  vi'hereof  they  are 
concerned,  not  to  be  free  from  the  guilt  only,  but  the  sus- 
picion. Those  worthy  souls  that  in  former  and  darker 
days  were  engaged  in  seeking  the  heavenly  country, 
thought  it  became  them  to  confess  themselvesn  pilgrims 
and  strangers  on  the  earth  ;  and  therein  to  declare  plainly, 
that  they  were  seeking  that  better  country.  Which  con- 
fession and  plain  declaration  we  need  not  understand  to  be 
merely  verbal,  but  practical  and  real  also ;  such  as  might  be 
understood  to  be  the  language  of  their  lives,  and  of  a  con- 
stant uniform  course  of  actions  agreeable  to  such  a  design. 

Let  us,  therefore,  bethink  ourselves,  what  temper  of 
mind  and  manner  of  life  may  be  most  conformable  to  this 
design,  and  best  become  persons  pretending  to  it;  where- 
upon we  should  soon  find  our  own  thoughts  instructing  us, 
that  such  things  as  these  would  be  most  becoming  and  fit 
in  reference  thereto  ;  and  which  we  may  therefore  take  as 
so  many  particular  directions  how  to  govern  our  spirits, 
and  behave  ourselves  answerable  to  so  great  an  expectation. 

1.  That  we  endeavour  for  a  calm  indifferency  and  dis- 
passionate temper  of  mind  towards  the  various  objects  and 
affairs  that  belong  to  this  present  life.  They  are  very  nar- 
row limits  already  set,  by  the  nature  of  the  things  them- 
selves, to  all  the  real  objective  value  that  such  things  have 
in  them ;  and  it  is  the  part  of  wisdom  and  justice  to  set 
the  proportionable  bounds  to  all  the  thoughts,  cares,  and 
passions  we  will  suffer  to  stir  in  our  minds  in  reference  to 
them.  Nothing  is  a  more  evident  acknowledged  character 
of  a  fool,  than  upon  every  slight  occasion  to  be  in  a  trans- 
port. To  be  much  taken  with  empty  things  betokens  an 
empty  spirit.  It  is  a  part  of  manly  fortitude  to  have  a  soul 
so  fenced  against  foreign  impressions,  as  little  to  be  moved 
with  things  that  have  little  in  them  :  to  keep  our  passions 
under  a  strict  and  steadj' command,  that  they  be  easily  re- 
tractable and  taught  to  obey ;  not  to  move  till  severe  reason 
have  audited  the  matter,  and  pronounced  the  occasion 
just  and  valuable.  In  which  case  the  same  manly  temper 
will  not  refuse  to  admit  a  proportionable  stamp  and  im- 
press from  the  occurring  object.  For  it  is  equally  a  pre- 
varication from  true  manhood  to  be  mov^ed  with  every 
thing  and  with  nothing  :  the  former  would  speak  a  man's 
spirit  a  leather,  the  latter  a  stone.  A  total  apathy  and  in- 
sensibleness  of  external  occurrents  hath  been  the  aim  of 
some,  but  never  the  attainment  of  the  highest  pretenders. 
And  if  it  had,  yet  ought  it  not  to  have  been  their  boast ; 
as  upon  sober  thoughts  it  cannot  be  reckoned  a  perfection. 
But  it  should  be  endeavoured,  that  the  passions  which  are 
not  to  be  rooted  up,  (because  they  are  of  nature's  plant- 
ing,) be  yet  so  discreetly  checked  and  depressed,  that  they 
grow  not  to  that  enormous  tallness  as  to  overtop  a  man's 
intellectual  power,  and  cast  a  dark  shadow  over  his  soul. 
A  rational  authority  must  be  maintained,  a  conlinency  and 
dominion  of  one's  self,  that  there  be  not  an  impotent  pro- 
fusion, and  we  be  never  so  affected  with  any  thing,  but 
that  the  object  may  still  be  able  to  warrant  and  justify  the 
affection,  both  for  the  nature  and  degree  of  it.  Which 
rule,  if  we  strictly  observe  and  apply  it  to  the  present  case, 
we  shall  rarely  meet  with  any  temporal  concern  that  ought 
to  move  us  much ;  both  for  the  littleness  of  such  things 
themselves,  and  that  we  have  so  unspeakably  greater 
things  in  our  view  and  design. 

In  conformity  therefore  to  our  so  great  expectation,  we 
ought  more  particularly  to  watch  and  repress  our  inclina- 
tions, appetites,  and  affections  towards  each  several  sort 
and  kind  of  objects,  which  time  and  this  present  state  hath 
within  the  confines  of  it.  As,  how  contemptuouslv  should 
we  look  upon  that  empty  vanity  of  being  rich  'l  How 
coldly  and  carelessly  should  we  pursue,  how  unconcern- 
edly should  we  lose,  any  thing  that  might  entitle  us  to  that 
name  !  The  pursuit  of  so  despicable  a  trifle,  with  violent 
and  peremptory  desire,  so  as  hereby  to  suffer  a  diversion 
from  our  design  for  another  world,  as  to  make  our  eternal 
hope  less  than  nothing  (for  to  any  man's  calm  and  .sober 
thoughts,  this  will  be  found  as  little  ;)  and  so  will  amount 
b  Heb.  xi. 


to  a  total  quitting  of  all  our  pretensions  to  a  better,  future 
state;  that  is,  wiien  so  we  indulge  this  odd  irrational, this 
wildly  fanciful,  and  purely  hurnoursome  appetite,  (of  which 
no  man  can  give  any  tolerable  account,)  that  it  becomes 
ravenous,  when  it  devours  a  man's  time,  his  thoughts,  the 
strength  and  vigour  of  his  spirit,  swallows  up  his  nobler 
designs,  and  makes  an  idle  doting  about  he  knows  not 
■what,  or  why,  his  main  business.  Especially  when  con- 
science itself  becomes  a  sacrifice  to  this  impure  unhallowed 
idol ;  and  the  question  is  wholly  waived,  "  is  this  thing  just 
and  honest  V  and  nothing  is  considered,  but  that  it  is  com- 
modious and  gainful.  Yet,  (if  herein  we  will  take  upon 
us  to  pass  a  judgment  upon  other  men,)  it  will  be  no  way 
ingenuous  or  just,  that  in  smaller  and  disputable  matters, 
we  make  our  own  apprehensions  a  measure  and  standard 
to  them.  They  are  commonly  aptest  to  do  so,  who  liave 
least  studied  the  matter,  and  have  nothing  but  their  igno- 
rant confidence  to  entitle  them  to  the  dictator's  chair ; 
M'here,  however,  having  placed  themselves,  they  liberally 
besiow  their  censures  and  reproaches  on  all  that  think  it 
not  fit  to  throw  away  their  own  eyes,  and  see  with  their 
bad  ones ;  and  conclude  them  to  have  no  conscience,  who 
go  not  according  to  theirs  ;  and  that  they  cannot  but  have 
some  ba.se  design,  who  in  any  thing  presume  to  swerve 
from  their  judgment,  especially  if  the  advantage,  in  any 
temporal  respect,  happen  to  lie  on  that  side  from  which 
they  dissent. 

Nothing  can  indeed  so  comport  with  the  spirit  and  de- 
.sign  of  one  who  believes  himself  made  for  another  world, 
as  a  brave  and  generous  disdain  of  stooping  to  the  lure  of 
present  emolument,  so  as  thereby  to  be  drawn  into  any  the 
least  thing  which  he  judges  not  defensible  by  the  severest 
rules  of  reason  and  religion;  which  were  to  quit  a  serene 
heaven  for  mire  and  dirt.  There  is  nothing  in  this  world 
of  that  value,  or  worthy  to  be  bought  so  dear,  as  with  the 
loss  and  forfeiture  of  the  rest  and  repose  of  a  mind,  quiet, 
benign,  peaceful,  and  well  pleased  with  itself.  It  is 
enough,  if  one  find  himself,  by  difficulties  which  he  can- 
not master,  constrained  to  dissent  from  persons  above  ex- 
ception wise  and  pious,  placidly,  and  without  unbecoming 
confidence,  to  go  on  in  the  way  which  his  present  judg- 
ment allows,  carr3'ing  with  him  a  modest  sense  of  human 
infirmity,  and  how  possible  it  is,  the  error  may  lie  on  his 
o^^^l  part ;  having  yet  to  relieve  him  against  that  supposi- 
tion, the  clearness  of  his  own  spirit,  the  conscience  of  his 
innocency  of  any  ill  disposition  or  design,  of  his  instruct- 
ibleness  and  preparedness  to  admit  a  conviction  if  he  err. 
And  be  he  never  so  full}'  persuaded  about  the  thing  in 
difference,  yet  to  consider  the  smallness  of  it,  and  how 
little  cause  he  hath  of  glorying,  if  he  know  in  this  matter 
more  than  others,  who  possibly  know  ten  times  more  than 
he,  in  far  greater  and  more  important  matters.  But,  in 
matters  clearly  determined  by  common  agreed  principles, 
to  prevaricate  out  of  an  indulgence  to  mere  appetite,  tc 
give  up  oneself  to  practices  apparently  immoral  and  fla- 
gitious, only  to  comply  with,  and  lest  he  should  not  satisfy 
sensual  desires,  is  the  character  of  one  who  hath  abandon- 
ed the  common  hope  of  all  good  men  ;  and  who,  that  he 
may  have  his  lot  with  beasts  in  this  world,  dreads  not  to 
have  it  with  devils  in  the  other.  And  it  is  upon  the  same 
ground,  equallv  unbecoming  them  that  pretend  to  this 
hope,  to  be  visiblv  concerned  and  discomposed  for  losses 
and  disappointments  they  mav  meet  with  in  this  kind, 
when  unexpected  events  withstand  their  having  much  oi 
this  world,  or  deprive  them  of  what  they  have.  It  becomes 
them  that  reckon  their  good  things  are  to  come  hereafter, 
to  show  by  their  equal  deportment  and  cheerful  aspect  ir. 
any  such  case,  that  they  apprehend  not  themselves  touch- 
ed in  their  most  considerable  interests.  Yea,  though  they 
suffer  not  losses  only,  but  injuries ;  and  besides  that  they 
are  damnified,  (as  much  as  such  things  can  signifv.)  they 
find  themselves  wronged  •,  and  thouirh  further  trouble  and 
danger  threaten  them  in  the  same  kind,  they  should  evi- 
dence how  much  it  is  above  the  power  either  of  chance  or 
malice,  not  only  to  make  them  miserable,  but  even  to  dis- 
turb or  make  them  sad;  that  they  are  not  happy  by  n 
casualty ;  and  that  their  happiness  is  not  in  the  command 
of  them  who  cannot  command  their  own  ;  that  it  only  de- 
pends on  the  inward  constitution  and  frame  of  their  own 


iJ8C 


THE  VANITY  OF  MAN  AS  MORTAL. 


spirits,  attempered  to  the  blessed  objects  of  the  invisible 
world,  whereby  they  have  the  assurance  of  enjoying  them 
fully  hereafter,  and  the  present  grateful  relishes  thereof  in 
the  meantime.  And  hence,  that  they  can  be  happy  with- 
out the  world's  kindness,  and  in  despite  of  its  imkindness ; 
that  they  hav^e  somewhat  within  them,  by  which  they  are 
enabled  to  rejoice  in  tribulation ;  being  troubled  on  every 
side,  yet  not  to  be  distressed;  to  "  take  joyfully  the  spoil- 
ing of  goods,  knowing  within  themselves  they  have  in 
heaven  a  better  and  enduring  substance;"  not  to  suffer  or 
discover  any  perturbation  or  disquiet;  not  to  have  their 
souls  ruffled,  or  put  into  disorder ;  nor  let  any  cloud  sit  on 
their  brow,  though  dark  and  dismal  ones  seem  to  hang 
over  their  heads. 

And  the  same  absurdity  it  would  be  to  indulge  to  them- 
selves an  unbounded  liberty  of  sensual  pleasures.  For 
that  looks  like  a  despair  of  futurity;  as  if  a  day  were  a 
mighty  gain  for  eating  and  drinking,  because  to-morrow 
we  must  die.  An  abstemious  shyness  here  is  comely;  a 
tasting  only  the  delights,  whereof  others  suffer  themselves 
to  be  ingulfed ;  a  prudent  reservedness  and  restraint,  so  as 
that  what  shall  cause  with  others  an  unbeseeming  transport 
and  diffusion  of  themselves,  be  entertained  not  with  a 
cynical  morosity,  but  a  pleasant  composure  and  well-order- 
ed complacence  ;  keeping  a  due  and  even  distance  between 
levity  and  sourness.  Yet  there  is  a  natural  retiredness  in 
some  men's  tempers;  and  in  others  an  aversion  to  plea- 
sures, proceeding  only  of  a  rational  estimate  of  their 
emptiness  and  vanity  m  themselves  ;  which  may,  however, 
much  fall  short  of  what  the  present  case  requires  ;  the  ex- 
igency whereof  is  no  way  satisfied,  but  where  such  a  mo- 
deration is  the  product  of  a  comparative  judgment  be- 
tween the  delights  of  the  present  and  those  of  the  future 
state ;  when  one  so  enjoys  any  thing  in  this  world,  as  to  be 
under  the  power  of  nothing  because  of  the  more  prevailing 
influence  he  is  under  from  the  power  of  the  world  to  come ; 
when  his  faith  is  the  parent  of  his  sobriety,  and  his  denial 
of  worldly  lusts  flows  from  the  expectation  of  the  blessed 
hope;  when,  because  he  more  highl}'  prizes,  and  lest  he 
forfeit,  eternal  pleasures,  he  so  behaves  himself  towards  all 
temporary  ones,  as  neither  to  abu.se  those  that  are  lawful, 
nor  to  be  abused  by  the  unlawful ;  not  to  exceed  in  the  one, 
nor  to  touch  with  the  other. 

Thus  also  ought  we  to  look  upon  secular  honours  and 
dignity;  neither  to  make  them  the  matter  of  our  admira- 
tion, affectation,  or  envy.  We  are  not  to  behold  them  with 
a  libidinous  eye,  or  let  our  hearts  thirst  after  them  ;  not  to 
value  ourselves  the  more  for  them,  if  they  be  our  lot,  nor 
let  our  eye  be  dazzled  with  admiration,  or  distorted  with 
envy,  when  we  behold  them  the  ornaments  of  others.  We 
are  not  to  express  that  contempt  of  them,  which  may  make 
a  breach  on  civility,  or  disturb  the  order  and  policy  of  tlie 
communities  whereto  we  belong.  Though  this  be  none  of 
our  own  country,  and  we  are  still  to  reckon  ourselves  but 
as  pilgrims  and  strangers  while  we  are  here ;  yet  it  becomes 
not  strangers  to  be  insolent  or  rude  in  their  behaviour, 
where  they  sojourn,  how  much  soever  greater  value  they 
may  justly  have  of  their  own  country.  We  should  pay  to 
secular  greatness  a  due  respect,  without  idolatry,  and 
neither  despise  nor  adore  it ;  considering,  at  once,  the  re- 
quisiteness  of  such  a  thing  in  the  present  state,  and  the  ex- 
celling glory  of  the  other.  As  though  in  prudence  and 
good  manners  we  would  abstain  from  provoking  affronts 
towards  an  American  sachem,  or  sagamore,  if  wedid  travel 
or  converse  in  their  country;  yet  we  could  have  no  great 
veneration  for  them,  having  beheld  the  royal  pomp  and 
grandeur  of  our  own  prince ;  especially  he  who  were  him- 
self a  courtier  and  favourite  to  his  much  more  glorious 
sovereign,  whom  he  is  shortly  to  attend  at  home,  could 
have  no  great  temptation  to  sue  for  oflices  and  honours,  or 
bear  a  very  profound  intrinsic  homage,  to  so  mean  and  un- 
expressive  an  image  of  regality. 

It  can  surely  no  way  become  one  who  seeks  and  expects 
the  i  honour  and  glory  which  is  conjunct  with  immortality, 
to  be  fond  of  the  airy  titles  that  poor  mortals  are  wont  to 
please  themselves  with ;  or  to  make  one  among  the  obse- 
quious servile  company  of  them  whose  business  it  is  to 
court  a  vanishing  shadow,  and  tempt  a  dignified  trifle 
into  the  belief  it  is  a  deity :  to  sneak  and  cringe  for  a 
i  Rom  ii.  7. 


smile  from  a  supercilious  brow,  and  place  his  heaven  in 
the  disdainful  favors  of  him,  who,  it  may  be,  places  his 
own  as  much  in  thy  homage,  so  that  it  befalls  into  the  sup- 
plicant's power  to  be  his  creator,  who.se  creature  he  affects 
to  be.  What  eye  would  not  soon  spy  out  the  grossness  of 
this  absurdity!  And  what  ingenuity  would  not  blush  to 
be  guilty  of  it  ■?  Let  then  the  joyful  expectants  of  a  bless- 
ed immortality  pass  by  the  busy  throng  of  this  fanciful 
exchange;  and  behold  it  with  as  little  concern,  as  a  grave 
statesman  would  the  sports  and  ludicrous  actions  of  little 
children ;  and  with  as  little  inclination  of  mind,  as  he 
would  have  to  leave  his  business  and  go  play  with  them; 
bestowing  there  only  the  transient  glance  of  a  careless  or 
a  compassionate  eye,  and  still  reserving  their  intent  steady 
views  for  the  glorious  hope  set  before  them.  And  with  a 
proportionable  unconcernedness  should  they  look  on,  and 
behold  the  varied  alterations  ol  political  affairs,  no  fur- 
ther minding  either  the  constitution  or  administration  of 
government,  than  as  the  interest  of  the  universal  Ruler, 
the  weal  and  safety  of  their  prince  or  country,  are  con- 
cerned in  them.  But  how  many  under  the  specious  pre- 
tence of  a  public  spirit,  make  it  their  whole  business  to 
inspect  and  pry  into  these  affairs,  even  with  a  most  meanly 
private  and  interested  one;  watching  over  the  public  be- 
yond the  bounds  of  their  own  calling ;  and  with  no  other 
design,  than  to  catch  at  an  opportunity  of  serving  their 
own  turns  !  How  many  that  stand  perpetually  at  a  gaze, 
in  a  suspenseful  expectation  how  things  will  go ;  either 
joying  or  hoping  to  behold  any  favourable  prognostics  to 
the  party  -whereto  they  have  thought  fit  to  addict  them- 
selves !  glad  or  desirous  to  see  it  engross  power,  and  grasp 
the  sum  of  things,  not  from  any  sense  of  duties  towards 
God's  vicegerents,  not  from  love  of  justice  or  study  of 
public  advantage,  but  that  the  happier  lot  may  befall  or  re- 
main to  themselves.  These  men  are  absorbed,  and  .swal- 
lowed up  by  the  spirit  of  this  world,  contempered  only  to 
this  sublunary  region,  concorporate  with  the  earth,  so  as  to 
partake  in  all  its  pangs,  and  paroxysms,  and  tremulous 
motions.  By  the  beating  of  their  pulse  you  may  know  the 
state  of  things  in  this  lower  world,  as  if  they  were  of  the 
same  piece,  and  had  but  one  soul  with  it.  Let  them  see 
times  and  a  state  of  things  on  earth  suitable  to  their  genius, 
and  you  put  a  new  life  and  soul  into  them.  Reduce  them 
to  a  despair  here,  and  (so  little  communion  have  they  with 
the  affairs  of  that  other  country)  the  most  specious  inviting 
representation  that  can  be  made  to  them  of  the  world  to 
come  hinders  not,  but  their  hearts  languish  and  die,  and 
become  as  stones  within  ihcm. 

But  that  lofty  soul  that  bears  about  with  it  the  living 
apprehensions  of  its  being  made  for  an  everlasting  state, 
so  earnestly  intends  it,  that  it  shall  ever  be  a  descent  and 
vouchsafemeni  Avith  it,  if  it  allow  itself  to  take  notice  what 
busy  mortals  are  doing  in  their  (as  they  reckon  them)  grand 
negociations  here  below.  And  if  there  be  a  suspicion  of 
an  aptness  or  inclination  to  intermeddle  in  them  to  their 
prejudice  to  whom  that  part  belongs,  can  heartily  say  to  it, 
(as  the  philosopher  to  the  jealous  tyrant,)  We  of  this  aca- 
demy are  not  at  leisure  to  mind  so  mean  things;  we  have 
somewhat  else  to  do  than  to  talk  of  you.  He  hath  still  the 
image  before  his  eye,  of  this  world  vanishing  and  passing 
away ;  of  the  other,  with  the  everlasting  affairs  and  con- 
cernments of  it,  even  now  ready  to  take  place  and  fill  up  all 
the  stage:  and  can  represent  to  himself  the  vision  (not 
from  a  melancholic  fancy  or  crazed  brain,  but  a  rational 
faiih  and  a  sober  well  instructed  mind)  of  the  world  dis- 
solving, monarchies  and  kingdoms  breaking  up,  thrones 
tumbling,  crowns  and  sceptres  lying  as  neglected  things. 
He  hath  a  telescope  through  which  he  can  behold  the  glo- 
rious appearance  of  the  Supreme  Judge;  the  solemn  stale 
of  his  majestic  person;  the  splendid  pomp  of  his  magnifi- 
cent and  vastly  numerous  retinue;  the  obsequious  throng 
of  glorious  celestial  creatures,  doing  homage  to  their 
eternal  King;  the  swift  flight  of  his  royal  guards,  sent 
forth  into  the  four  winds  to  gather  the  elect,  and  covering 
the  face  of  the  heavens  with  their  spreading  wings ;  the 
universal  silent  attention  of  all  to  that  loud  sounding 
trumpet  that  shakes  the  pillars  of  the  world,  pierces 
the  inward  caverns  of  the  earth,  and  resounds  from  every 
part  of  the   encircling   heavens;    the  many  myriads  of 


THE  VANITY  OF  MAN  AS  MORTAL. 


28": 


joyful  expectants  arising,  changing,  putting  on  glory,  taking 
wing,  and  contending  upwards,  to  join  themselves  to  the 
triumphant  heavenly  host:  the  judgment  set;  the  books 
opened  ;  the  Irightlul  amazed  looks  of  surprised  wretches ; 
the  equal  administration  of  the  final  judgment;  the  ad- 
judication of  all  to  their  eternal  stales;  the  heavens  rolled 
up  as  a  scroll;  the  earth  and  all  things  therein  consumed 
and  burnt  up. 

And  now,  what  spirit  is  there  any  more  left  in  him  to- 
wards the  trivial  atl'airs  of  a  vanishing  world  ?  How  in- 
different a  thing  is  it  with  him  who  bears  himself  highest 
in  a  state  of  things  whereof  he  foresees  the  certain  hasten- 
ing end !  Though  he  will  not  neglect  the  duty  of  his  own 
place,  is  heartily  concerned  to  have  the  knowledge  and  fear 
of  God  more  generally  obtained  in  this  apostate  world, 
and  is  ready  to  contribute  his  utmost  regular  endeavours 
for  the  preservation  of  common  peace  and  order  in  sub- 
serviency hereto;  yet  abstractedly  from  these  considera- 
tions, and  such  as  have  been  before  mentioned,  he  is 
no  more  concerned  who  is  uppermost,  than  one  would, 
passing  by  a  swarm  of  flies,  which  hath  the  longest  wings, 
oi  which  excels  the  rest  in  sprightliness  or  briskness  of 
motion.  And  for  himself,  he  can  insert  this  amongst  his 
most  serious  thanksgivings,  that  while  the  care  is  incum- 
bent on  others,  of  watching  over  the  public  peace  and 
safety,  he  may  sit  siill  and  converse  with  God  and  his 
own  more  sedate  thoughts.  How  secure  is  he  in  this,  that 
infinite  wisdom  governs  the  world!  that  all  things  shall 
be  disposed  the  best  way,  to  the  best  and  most  valuable 
ends!  that  an  afflicted  state  shall  never  befall  unto  good 
men,  but  when  it  is  fittest  and  most  conducible  it  should 
do  sol  that  the  prosperity  carnal  appetite  covets,  is  never 
denied  them,  but  when  it  would  be  pernicious  !  How  calm 
is  he  in  the  midst  of  external  troubles !  how  placid  and 
serene  a  spirit  inhabits  his  peaceful  breast!  When  all 
things  are  shaken  round  about  him,  he  is  not  shaken.  He 
bears  all  sorts  of  troubles,  but  creates  none  to  others,  nor 
is  disturbed  by  any  himself.  But  they  that  delight  to  see 
this  world  rolling  or  fixed,  as  they  most  serve  their  private 
purposes,  and  have  a  perpetual  quarrel  with  it,  while  it 
looks  not  kindly  upon  them  ;  their  life  is  bound  up  in  it, 
and  their  pretences  to  another  are  but  the  languid,  faint  no- 
tions of  what  they  never  heartily  believe  nor  desire.  Upon 
the  whole  matter;  nothing  is  more  agreeable  to  this  great 
expectation,  than  a  steady  restraint  and  moderation  of  our 
passions  towards  things  without  us  ;  that  is,  all  the  seve- 
ral sorts  of  external  objects  and  affairs,  that  so  variou.sly 
invite  and  tempt  our  observation  and  regard  in  this  our 
present  state. 

2.  I  next  add:  a  further  congruity,  if  we  pretend  to 
this  expectation,  is,  that  we  be  not  over-much  taken  up  in 
minding  the  body.  For  this  looks  like  a  design  (or  that 
inconsistent  wish)  to  have  our  present  state  perpetuated; 
and  that  the  thoughts  are  remote  from  us  of  a  change  for 
a  better.  As  if  notwithstanding  all  that  the  Divine  good- 
ness hath  promised  concerning  the  future  inheritance  of 
the  free  and  heaven-born  seed,  this  did  still  lie  nearest  to 
our  hearts,  O  that  Ishmael  might  live  in  thy  sight !  And 
that  the  belief  did  miserably  languish  with  us,  of  any 
better  portion  than  what  our  eyes  do  already  behold;  to- 
gether with  the  apprehension  of  a  spiritual  being  in  us,  to 
be  ripened  into  a  complete  and  actual  capacity  of  enjoy- 
ing what  is  better.  It  is  true,  that  all  the  exorbitant  work- 
ing of  those  meaner  and  ignoble  passions  that  are  moved 
by  objects  and  occasions  without  and  foreign  to  us,  have 
the  body  for  their  first  and  last,  their  spring  and  source, 
their  centre  and  end.  But  thence  it  becomes  the  more 
proper  and  requisite,  that  we  draw  nearer  this  their  seat 
and  centre,  and  strike  at  the  root ;  and  in  killing  that  inor- 
dinate love  and  solicitude  for  the  body,  mortifj'  them  all  at 
once.  We  are  indeed  so  far  to  comply  with  the  pleasure 
of  our  Maker,  as  not  to  despise  the  mean  abode  which  he 
hath  assigned  us  for  awhile  in  the  body.  But  withal,  to 
take  heed  lest  we  so  cross  and  resLst  it,  asto  make  caring  for 
the  body  our  whole  business  ;  which  he  hath  only  enjoined 
us  in  subserviency  to  an  unspeakably  greater  "and  more 
important  business.  Its  health  and  "welfare  ought  upon 
very  valuable  accounts  to  be  carefully  preserved  bv  all 
prudent  means ;  but  to  indulge  its  slothful  desires,"  and 
k  Noil  qua  euiidum  est  Bed  qua  itur.    Sen. 


comply  with  its  licentious  wild  cravings,  is  far  beneath  us, 
a  base  unmanning  of  ourselves,  and  would  signify,  as  ii 
so  absurd  a  conceit  had  passed  with  us  into  a  settled 
judgment,  that  a  reasonable  immortal  spirit  was  created 
only  to  tend  and  serve  a  brute.  It  is  monstrous  to  behold, 
with  how  common  consent  multitudes  that  professedly 
agree  in  the  belief  of  the  immortal  nature  of  their  souls, 
do  yet  agree  to  debase  and  enslave  them  to  the  meanest 
servility  to  their  mortal  bodies ;  so  as  these  are  permitted 
to  give  laws  to  them,  to  ])rescribe  them  rules  of  living,  and 
what  their  daily  employment  shall  be.  For  observe  the 
designs  they  drive,  and  what  is  the  tendency  of  their  ac- 
tions and  affairs,  (whence  the  judgment  is  to  be  made 
concerning  their  inward  thoughts,  deliberations,  and  re- 
.•<olves,)  and  is  not  the  body  the  measure  and  mark  of  them 
all  1  What  import  or  signification  is  there  in  this  course, 
of  a  design  for  futurity  "?  And  (which  incresises  the  folly 
of  it  to  a  wonder)  they  can  make  a  shift  to  go  on  thus 
from  year  to  year,  and  take  no  notice,  of  the  absurdity  ! 
They  agree  to  justify  each  one  himself,  and  one  another. 
The  commonness  of  the  course  takes  away  all  sense  of  the 
horrid  madness  of  it.  And  because  each  doth  as  the  rest 
do,  they  seem  to  imagine  they  all  do  well,  and  that  there 
is  nothing  exceptionable  in  the  case  ;  and  go  on,  as  the  silly 
sheep,!'  7iot  the  way  they  ought,  but  which  they  see  others  go 
before  them. 

But,  if  any  place  could  be  found  for  calm  and  sober 
thoughts,  what  would  be  reckoned  a  greater  impertinency, 
than  to  be  at  so  great  pains  for  maintaining  a  bodily  life, 
without  considering  what  that  life  shall  serve  fori  to  em- 
ploy our  utmost  care  to  live,  but  to  live  for  we  know  not 
what  1  It  becomes  us  to  be  patient  of  the  body,  not  fond  : 
to  treat  and  use  our  bodies  as  things  shortly  to  be  put  off 
and  laid  aside:  to  care  for  them,  not  for  their  own,  but 
the  work's  sake  we  have  to  do  in  them,  and  leave  it  to  them 
to  indulge  and  pamper  the  body,  who  expect  never  to  live 
out  of  it:  not  to  concern  ourselves,  that  the  circumslance.s 
of  our  bodily  stale  be  such  as  will  gratify  our  appetites, 
but  answer  the  ends  for  which  our  Maker  thought  fit  we 
should  live  awhile  in  the  body  :  reckoning  with  ourselves, 
we  are  lodged  in  these  mean  receptacles  (though  some- 
what commodiously,  yet)  but  for  a  little  while,  and  fc-r 
great  purposes;  and  more  minding  our  journey  and  home, 
than  our  entertainment  in  our  inn:  contentedly  beaiii.g 
the  want  of  bodilj'  accommodations  that  are  not  easily  to 
be  compassed,  and  the  pressure  of  unavoidable  bodily  in- 
firmities ;  not  much  pitying  ourselves  because  of  them  ; 
nor  deeply  regretting  it,  if  wants  and  pains  pinch  our 
flesh  ;  nay,  though  we  seethe  outward  man  perishing,  so 
we  can  but  find  the  inward  renewing  day  by  day. 

3.  That  we  set  ourselves  with  the  whole  intention  of 
our  souls,  to  mind  the  concernments  of  the  future  state, 
the  invisible  things  of  the  other  world  ;  and  direct  the 
main  stream  of  our  thoughts,  desires,  hopes,  and  joys, 
thitherward.  For  how  highly  justifiable  and  becoming  is 
it,  that  we  principally  mind  the  state  and  things  we  are 
made  fori  We  should  therefore  make  these  familiar  to 
ourselves,  and  use  our  spirits  to  those  more  noble  and 
pleasant  themes:  recounting  often,  how  unworthy  it  is  of 
them  to  grovel  in  the  dust,  or  choose  the  objects  of  their 
converse  by  such  measures  only  as  are  taken  from  sense. 
It  is  an  iniquity  which,  though  God  may  be  so  gracious 
to  us  as  to  forgive,  we  should  not  easily  forgive  to  our- 
selves, that  we  have  so  often  chosen  to  converse  with  empty 
trifles,  while  so  great  things  have  invited  our  thoughts  in 
vain.  Their  remoteness  from  sense  hath  little  of  excuse 
in  it,  and  unworthy  a  reasonable  creature.  Meihinks  they 
should  be  ashamed  to  allege  it,  who  consider  themselves 
furnished  with  an  intellectual  power,  that  doih,  in  many 
'  other  instances,  control  the  judgment  of  sense,  and  im- 
peach it  of  falsehood.  Would  we  not  b  ush  to  profess  it 
for  a  principle,  that  there  is  nothing  real  that  exceeds  the 
sphere  of  our  sense  1  We  would  reckon  it  a  part  of  mo- 
desty not  to  ascribe  too  much  to  our  own  understandings, 
or  presume  too  far  upon  our  intellectual  ability,  against  the 
judgment  of  sage  and  knowing  persons.  How  is  it  then, 
that  we  think  it  not  immodest,  to  oppose  the  apprehensions 
of  our  dull  and  incapacious  sense  to  the  common  faith  and 
reason  of  all  good  and  wise  men  that  are  or  have  been  in 


288 


THE  VANITY  OF  MAN  AS  MORTAL. 


the  world,  as  well  as  our  own  1  If  we  have  not  seen  what 
the  state  of  things  is  in  the  other  world,  are  we  not  told  ? 
and  have  we  not  enough  to  assure  us,  that,  'tis  he  hath 
told  us,  whose  nature  cannot  suffer  him  to  impose  upon 
us,  or  represent  things  otherwise  than  they  are  1  Who  else 
can  be  the  author  of  so  common  a  persuasion  1  If  any 
man  had  been  the  first  inventor  of  the  opinion, — that  there 
is  another  state  of  things  to  succeed  to  this,  would  he  not 
have  assumed  it  lo  himself,  that  he  was  so?  would  he  not 
have  owned  it,  and  gloried  in  iti  Or  would  not  some  or 
other  of  his  proselyted  disciples  have  preserved  his  name 
and  memory,  and  transmitted  them  to  posterity  1  Could 
so  vast  a  sect  be  without  a  head  or  master,  known  and 
celebrated  among  men  1 

Less  plausible  opinions  find  some  owners;  why  is  it 
not  said,  who  was  the  first  broacher  of  this  ?  And  if  he 
can  find  no  other  parent  for  it,  but  he  who  was  the  Parent 
of  our  beings,  how  grateful  should  such  a  discovery  be  to 
us,  both  for  his  sake  and  its  own  1  Upon  his  account,  we 
should  surely  think  it  worthy  to  be  believed ;  and  upon 
its  own,  to  be  considered  and  seriously  thought  on,  with 
greatest  delight  and  sense  of  pleasure. 

Many  things  that  we  reckon  considerable  upon  much 
lower  accounts,  we  so  believe,  as  to  let  them  engage  our 
hearts,  and  influence  our  practice,  upon  much  lower  evi- 
dence. How  entirely  are  men'.s  spirits  taken  up  many 
times  about  meaner  matters,  whereof  they  have  only  a 
(much  more  uncertain  and  fallible)  report  from  one  ano- 
ther 1  What  pretence  can  we  have,  less  to  regard  the  tes- 
timony of  him  that  made  us,  discovering  to  us  things  so 
great,  so  important,  so  rational  in  themselves,  even  though 
they  had  not  been  so  expressly  revealed  ?  Let  us  there- 
fore drive  the  matter  to  a  clear  and  short  issue,  and  come 
to  a  resolution  with  ourselves.  Have  we  reason  to  believe 
such  things,  or  no  "?  If  we  can  so  far  impose  upon  our- 
selves, as  to  think  we  have  not;  or  be  tempted  into  so 
abject,  so  unrequired,  and  so  unwarrantable  a  self-denial, 
so  base  an  esteem  of  our  own  beings,  as  to  account  the 
things  of  this  earth  and  present  world  have  enough  in 
them  to  answer  any  ends  we  can  suppose  ourselves  made 
for;  let  us  no  longer  mock  the  world,  by  pretending  to 
believe  what  we  believe  not.  But  if  this  be  our  settled 
judgment,  and  we  will  avow  and  own  it,  that  we  believe 
these  things;  let  us  no  longer  expose  and  make  ourselves 
ridiculous,  by  counteracting  our  own  professed  belief  in 
matters  of  such  moment,  pretending  to  believe  and  disre- 
garding them  at  the  same  time.  'Tis  absurd  and  foolish, 
to  believe  such  things,  and  not  mind  them  much,  or  not 
let  our  souls  and  our  practice  be  commanded  and  govern- 
ed by  them :  not  to  have  our  desires,  and  cares,  and  hopes, 
and  joys,  influenced  thereby  to  the  uttermost.  How 
rational  is  it,  here  to  be  deeply  solicitous,  that  by  the  un- 
suitableness  of  our  own  spirits  we  defeat  not  our  own  ex- 
pectations !  How  pleasant  and  delectable  (that  danger 
being  provided  against)  to  sit  down  and  compare  our  pre- 
sent with  our  expected  state,  what  we  are,  with  what  we 
hope  to  be  ere  long!  to  think  of  exchanging  shortly,  in- 
firmity, pollution,  darkness,  deformity,  trouble,  complaint ; 
for  power,  purity,  light,  beauty,  rest,  and  praise !  How 
pleasant,  if  our  spirits  be  fitted  to  that  state  !  The  endea- 
vour whereof  is  a  further  congruity  in  the  present  case, 
viz. 

4.  That  we  make  it  our  principal  business  to  intend  our 
spirits,  to  adorn  and  cultivate  our  inward  man.  What 
can  more  become  us,  if  we  reckon  w^e  have  somewhat 
about  us  made  for  immortality,  than  to  bestow  our  chief 
care  upon  that  immortal  part?  Therefore,  to  neglect  our 
spirits,  confessedly  capable  of  so  high  an  estate,  to  let  them 
languish  under  wasting  distempers,  or  lie  as  the  sluggard's 
field,  overgrown  with  thorns  and  briers,  is  as  vile  a  slur  as 
we  can  put  upon  ourselves  and  our  own  profession.  We 
should  therefore  make  this  the  matter  of  our  earnest  study. 
What  would  be  the  proper  improvements  and  ornaments 
of  our  spirits,  and  will  most  fitly  qualify  them  for  the  state 
we  are  going  into ;  and  of  our  daily  observation  how  such 
things  thrive  and  grow  in  us.  Especially,  we  should  not 
be  satisfied,  till  we  find  in  ourselves  a  refinedness  from 
this  earth,  a  thorough  purgation  from  all  undue  degrees  of 
sensual  inclination  and  affection,  the  consumption  of  our 
dross  by  a  sacred  fire  from  heaven,  a  spirit  of  judgment 


and  of  burning,  an  aptitude  to  spiritual  exercises  and  en- 
joyments, high  complacency  in  God,  fervent  love,  a  wor- 
shipping posture  of  soul,  formed  to  the  veneration  of  the 
eternal  wisdom,  goodness,  power,  holiness ;  profound  hu- 
mility and  abnegation  of  ourselves,  a  praiseful  frame  of 
spirit,  much  used  togratulations  and  thanksgivings,  a  large 
and  universal  love,  imitating  as  much  as  is  possible  the 
divine,  a  proneness  to  do  good  to  all,  a  steady  composure 
and  serene  temper  of  spirit,  the  repose  and  rest  of  a  con- 
tented mind,  not  boisterous,  nor  apt  unto  disquiet,  or  to 
create  storms  to  ourselves  or  the  world,  every  way  suitable 
to  the  blissful  regions,  where  nothing  but  perfect  purity, 
entire  devotedness  to  God,  love,  goodness,  benignity,  well- 
pleasedness,  order,  and  peace,  shall  have  place  for  ever. 

This  we  ought  to  be  constantly  intent  upon,  as  the 
business  of  our  lives,  our  daily  work,  to  get  our  spirits  so 
attempered  and  fitted  to  heaven,  that  if  we  be  asked. 
What  design  we  drivel  What  are  we  doing  1  we  may  be 
able  to  make  this  true  answ^er,  We  are  dressing  ourselves 
for  eternity.  And  since  nothing  is  required  hereto,  that 
is  simply  impossible,  nothing  but  what  is  agreeable  to  our 
natures,  and  would  be  a  perfection  to  them:  how  worthy 
and  commendable  an  ambition  were  it,  to  be  always  aspir- 
ing !  not  to  rest  or  take  up  beneath  the  highest  pitch 
of  attainable  excellency  in  these  kinds  !  reckoning  every 
degree  thereof  a  due  to  our  natures,  and  that  they  have 
not  what  belongs  to  them,  while  any  thing  of  real  intrinsic 
moral  goodness  is  yet  wanting  ;  and  not  only  due  but  ne- 
cessary, and  what  we  shall  have  need  of  in  reference  to  the 
state  we  are  shortly  to  enter  upon  ;  that  except  such  things 
be  in  us,  and  abound,  we  cannot  have  an  abundant  en- 
trance into  the  everlasting  kingdom.  And  should  we, 
pretending  to  such  an  expectation,  omit  such  endeavours 
of  preparing  ourselves,  it  were  a  like  thing  as  if  an  unbred 
peasant  should  go  about  to  thrust  himself,  with  an  expec- 
tation of  high  honours  and  preferments,  into  the  prince's 
court ;  or  as  if  a  distracted  man  should  expect  to  be  em- 
ployed in  the  greatest  and  most  intricate  affairs  of  state  ; 
or  an  uninstructed  idiot  take  upon  him  to  profess  and 
teach  philosophy. 

Therefore  let  us  consider:  Are  we  conscious  of  no  un- 
fitness for  that  blessed  state?  to  dwell  in  the  presence  of 
the  holy  God  ?  to  be  associated  with  the  heavenly  assem- 
bly of  pure  intellectual  spirits?  to  consort  and  join  with 
them  in  their  celebrations  and  triumphant  .songs  1  Can  we 
espy  no  such  thing  in  ourselves,  as  an  earthly  mind,  aver- 
sation  to  God,  as  pride,  disdain,  wrath,  or  envy,  admira- 
tion of  ourselves,  aptness  to  seek  our  own  things  with  the 
neglect  of  others,  or  the  like  ?  And  do  not  our  hearts  then 
misgive,  and  tell  lis  we  are  unready,  not  yet  prepared  to 
approach  the  Divine  presence,  or  to  enter  into  the  habita- 
tion of  his  holiness  and  glory?  And  what  then  have  we 
to  do,  but  set  ourselves  to  our  preparatory  works;  to  set 
our  watches,  make  our  observations,  take  strict  notice  of 
all  the  deflections  and  obliquities  of  our  spirits,  settle  our 
methods,  hasten  a  redress  ?  Do  not  we  know  this  is 
the  time  and  state  of  preparation  ?  And  since  we  know  it, 
how  would  the  folly  torture  us  by  reflection,  of  having  be- 
trayed ourselves  to  a  surprisal !  None  are  ever  wont  to 
enter  upon  any  new  state  without  some  foregoing  prepara- 
tion. Every  more  remarkable  turn  or  change  in  our  lives, 
is  commonly  (if  at  all  foreknown)  introduced  by  many 
serious  forethoughts.  If  a  man  be  to  change  his  dwelling, 
employment,  condition,  common  discretion  will  put  him 
thinking  how  to  comport  with  the  place,  business,  con- 
verse, and  way  of  living  he  is  next  to  betake  himself  to. 
And  his  thoughts  will  be  the  more  intense,  by  how  much 
more  momentous  the  change.  If  he  be  to  leave  his  coun- 
try, with  no  probability  of  returning;  if  he  be  designed  to 
a  station,  the  circumstances  whereof  carry  any  thing  of 
awfulness  inthem;  if  to  public  business;  if  on  court  atten- 
dances; with  what  solemnity  and  address  are  such  things 
undertaken  !  How  loth  and  ashamed  would  one  be  to  go 
into  such  a  condition,  being  totally  unapt,  not  at  all  know- 
ing how  to  behave  himself  in  it !  But  what  so  great 
change  as  this  can  the  nature  of  man  admit,  that  a  soul 
long  shut  up  in  flesh,  is  now  to  go  forth  from  its  earthly 
mansion,  and  return  no  more;  expecting  to  be  received 
into  the  glorious  presence  of  the  Eternal  King,  and  g:o 
act  its  part  among  the  perfected  spirits  that  attend  his 


THE  VANITY  OF  MAN  AS  MORTAL. 


289 


throne !  How  solicitous  endeavour  of  a  very  thorough 
preparation  doth  this  case  call  for  !  But  how  ill  doth  the 
common  coarse  of  men  agree  to  this,  who  never  have  such 
matters  in  their  thoughts,  who  so  much  neglect  not  their 
very  hogs  as  they  do  their  spirits  ! 

5.  That  we  have  much  conversation  with  God.  He  is 
the  only  full  and  permanent  good ;  therefore  the  endea- 
vour of  becoming  very  inward  with  him,  doth  best  agree 
with  the  expectation  of  a  state  perfectly  good  and  happy. 
To  expect  this,  and  converse  only  with  sliadows  and  van- 
isiiing  things,  is  to  expect  to  be  happy  without  happiness ; 
or  that  our  happiness  should  betide  us  as  a  casual  thing, 
or  be  forced  upon  us  at  last  whether  we  will  or  no.  But 
since  our  happiness  in  God  is  on  his  part  not  necessary, 
but  vouchsafed  and  gratuitous,  dependmg  on  mere  good 
pleasure ;  is  it  our  best  way  of  ingratiating  ourselves  with 
him,  to  neglect  him  and  live  as  without  him  in  the  Avorld ; 
to  keep  ourselves  strangers  to  him  all  our  days,  with  a 
purpose  only  of  flying  to  him  at  last,  when  all  things  else 
that  were  wont  to  please  us  are  vanished  and  gone  1  And 
if  we  could  suppose  his  wisdom  and  justice  to  admit  his 
forgiving  so  provoking  contempt  of  him,  and  receiving  an 
exiled  soul  forced  out  of  its  earthly  abode,  that  to  the  last 
moment  of  if  would  never  look  after  him,  or  have  to  do 
with  him ;  yet,  can  it  be  supposed  that  his  own  habitual 
aversation  to  him  could  allow  it  to  be  happy  in  him  1  Es- 
pecially being  increased  and  confirmed  by  its  conscious- 
ness and  sense  of  guilt  1  How  can  these  but  make  it  banish 
itself,  and  in  a  sullen  enmity  and  despair  perpetually  flee 
the  Divine  presence  1  What  can  in  this  case  be  more  na- 
tural to  it,  than  to  give  up  itself  to  eternal  solitary  wan- 
derings, as  a  fugitive  from  God  ;  to  affect  to  be  ever  in- 
wrapt  in  its  own  darkness,  and  hidden  from  his  sight,  and 
be  an  everlasting  tormentor  to  itself  1  Can' we  be  happy 
in  him  whom  we  do  not  love  1  or  love  whom  we  will  not 
know,  or  be  acquainted  with  1 

What  sure  ground  of  hope  can  we  imagine  to  ourselves, 
that  our  reconciliation  and  acquaintance  with  God  shall 
ever  be  brought  about,  if  it  be  not  done  while  we  are  here 
in  the  body  1  Will  we  be  so  vain  as  to  cherish  a  hope  that 
not  only  affronts  the  visible  import  of  God's  revelation, 
but  the  very  reason  of  things,  and  the  natural  tendency  of 
our  own  spirits  ■?  Nor  indeed  (if  we  would  consider  belter) 
can  we  possibly  hope  for  what  we  desire  not,  or  whereto 
our  hearts  are  in  an  habitual  disaffection,  otherwise  than 
(in  the  present  case)  negatively,  and  that  our  infidelity 
permits  us  not  to  fear  the  contrary.  Yea,  and  the  lively 
hope  of  a  blessedness  in  God,  as  it  includes  desire,  would 
certainly  infer  that  purity  (the  image  of  his  own)  that 
could  never  fail  to  incline  our  hearts  to  him,  and  which 
would  habituate  us  to  a  course  of  walking  with  him  in 
inward  communion.  And  this  were  comely  and  agreea- 
ble to  our  pretences,  if  while  we  profess  ourselves  made 
for  another  state,  we  retire  ourselv^es  from  the  fading 
things  that  put  a  vanity  into  this,  and  single  out,  by  our 
own  choice,  the  stable  good  which  we  expect  ever  to  en- 
joy. How  befitting  is  it,  to  pass  by  all  things  with  neglect, 
and  betake  ourselves  hither  with  this  sense  !  "  Lord,  I 
have  viewed  the  world  over,  in  which  thou  hast  set  me  ; 
I  have  tried  how  this  and  that  thing  will  fit  my  spirit  and 
the  design  of  my  creation  ;  and  can  find  nothing  in  which 
to  rest,  for  nothing  here  doth  itself  rest,  but  such  things 
as  please  me  for  awhile,  in  some  degree,  vanish  and  flee 
as  shadows  from  before  me.  Lo,  I  come  to  thee,  the  eter- 
nal Being,  the  Spring  of  life,  the  Centre  of  rest,  the  Stay 
of  the  creation,  the  Fulness  of  all  things!  I  join  myself 
to  thee,  with  thee  I  will  lead  my  life  and  spend  my  days, 
with  whom  I  am  to  dwell  for  ever,  expecting  Avhen 
my  little  time  is  over  to  be  taken  up  ere  long  into  thy 
eternity." 

And  since  we  who  live  under  the  Gospel,  have  heard 
of  the  Redeemer,  of  the  dignity  of  his  person,  of  his  high 
oflSce  and  power,  of  his  merciful  design  and  great  achieve- 
ments for  the  restoring  of  lapsed  and  lost  souls. 

6.  It  is  most  agreeable  to  our  apprehensions  of  the  va- 
nity of  this  present  slate,  and  our  expectations  for  the  fu- 
ture, that  we  commit  ourselves  to  him  :  that  with  entire 
tru.st  and  love,  devotedness  and  subjection,  we  give  our- 
selves up  to  his  happy  conduct,  to  be  led  by  him  to  God, 
and  instated  into  that  eternal  blessedness  which  we  look 


for.  His  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world  ;  as  we  profess  not 
to  be.  We  cannot  be  innocently  ignorant,  that  its  consti- 
tution and  frame,  its  laws  and  ordinances,  its  aspect  and 
tendency  in  itself,  and  the  whole  course  of  its  administra- 
tion, are  directed  to  that  other  state.  "  He  hath  overcome 
death,  and  him  that  had  the  power  of  it ;  hath  brought 
life  and  immortality  to  light ;  is  the  first-begotten  from  the 
dead,  and  the  finst-fruits  of  them  that  .slept;  hath  opened 
heaven  to  us,  and  is  himself  ascended  and  entered  as  our 
victorious,  triumphant  Captain  and  Forerunner.  He  is 
adorned  with  highest  power,  and  hath  set  up  a  universal 
kingdom,  extended  to  the  utmost  bounds  of  this  apostate 
world,  and  the  vaster  regions  of  innocent  and  constantly 
loyal  spirits.  His  proclamations  are  issued  out,  his  en- 
signs displayed,  to  invite  and  call  in  whosoever  are  weary 
of  the  sin  and  v^anity  of  this  wretched  world,  of  their  alien- 
ation from  the  life  of  God,  of  living  in  the  midst  of  death; 
to  join  themselves  to  him,  the  Prince  and  Lord  of  life, 
and  be  led  by  him  to  the  immortal  state.  If  the  present 
state  of  things  appear  dismal  to  us  ;  if  we  reckon  it  a  wo- 
ful  spectacle  to  behold  sin  and  death  reigning,  wickedness 
and  immorality  acting  their  combined  parts,  to  waste  the 
world  and  lay  it  desolate  ;  if  we  would  deliver  ourselves 
and  escape  from  the  common  ruin,  are  seriously  designing 
for  heaven,  and  that  world  in  which  death  hath  no  place, 
nor  any  shadow  of  death;  let  us  betake  ourselves  to  him, 
enroll  our  names,  put  ourselves  under  his  banners  and 
discipline,  strictly  observing  the  laws  and  following  the 
guidance  of  that  our  invisible  Lord,  who  will  be  Author 
of  eternal  salvation  to  them  that  obey  him,  and  save  to  the 
utmost  all  that  come  to  God  through  him.  How  dear 
should  he  be  to  us !  How  cheerfully  should  we  trust  him, 
how  dutifully  serve  him,  how  faithfully  adhere  to  him, 
both  for  his  own  sake,  and  that  of  the  design  he  ha'h  in 
hand  for  us,  and  the  pleasant  savour  of  heaven  and  immor- 
tality which  breathes  in  both  !  But  if  we  neglect  him,  and 
disown  our  relation  to  him  ;  or  if  we  let  days  or  years  go 
over  our  heads,  wherein  we  drowsily  slumber;  roll  our- 
selves in  the  dust  of  the  earth ;  and  while  we  call  ourselves 
Christians,  forget  the  reason  and  importance  of  our  ovra 
name,  and  think  not  of  our  being  under  his  call  and  con- 
duct to  the  eternal  kingdom  and  glory  :  this  is  perversely 
to  reject  what  we  say  (only)  we  seek  ;  to  disclaim  and  re- 
nounce our  pretences  to  immortality ;  to  blast  and  damn 
our  own  great  hopes. 

7.  Lastly,  It  is  congruous  to  our  expectation  of  so  great 
things  after  death,  that  we  live  in  a  cheerful,  pleasant  ex- 
pectation of  it.  For  what  must  necessarily  intervene, 
though  not  grateful  in  itself,  should  be  reckoned  so,  for  the 
sake  of  that  which  is.  This  onl}'  can  upon  the  best  teims 
reconcile  us  to  the  grave,  that  our  greatest  hopes  lie  be- 
yond it ;  and  are  not  hazarded  by  it,  but  accomplished. 
Although,  indeed,  nothing  were  to  be  expected  hereafter; 
)'et  so  little  suitable  entertainment  doth  this  world  aflbrd 
to  a  reasonable  spirit,  that  the  mere  weariness  of  behold- 
ing a  scene  of  vanity  and  folly,  might  well  make  a  recess 
acceptable.  For  is  it  so  grateful  a  thing  to  observe  the 
confused  scramble  and  hii^rry  of  the  world  1  how  almost 
every  one  makes  it  his  business  to  catch  from  another 
what  is  worth  nothing'?  With  what  toil,  and  art,  and  vio- 
lence men  pursue,  what  when  they  embrace  they  find  a 
shadow!  To  see  deluded  mortals,  each  one  intent  upon 
his  own  particular  design,  and  most  commonly  interfering 
with  another's:  some  imposed  upon  bv others' over-reach- 
ing wit,  and  all  by  their  own  folly  :  some  lamenting  their 
losses,  others  their  short  and  unsatisfying  acquisitions  : 
many  pleasing  themselves  with  being  mocked,  and  con- 
tentedly hugging  the  empty  cloud,  till  death  comes  and 
ends  the  story,  and  ceases  the  busy  agitation  ;  that  is,  with 
so  many  particular  persons,  not  with  the  world  :  a  new 
succession  still  springing  up,  that  continue  the  interlude, 
and  still  act  ore?-  the  same  parts,  ad  iadivm  iisquc  ! 

What  serious  person,  who  that  is  not  in  love  with  imper- 
tinencyand  foolery,  Avould  much  regret  it,  to  close  his  eyes, 
to  have  the  curtains  drawn,  and  bid  good-night  to  the  world 
without  ever  wishing  to  see  the  morning  of  such  another 
day1  And  even  they  that  have  the  world  most  in  their 
power,  and  can  command  what  they  please  for  the  gratify- 
ing of  their  appetites,  without  the  contradiction  and  con- 
trol of  othei-s,  what  can  they  enjoy  more  to-morrow  than 


290 


THE  VANITY  OF  MAN  AS  MORTAL. 


they  did  yesterday  ;  or  the  next  year  than  this  1  Is  it  so 
much  worth  the  while  lo  live,  to  see  a  few  more  persons 
bow  the  knee ']  to  extend  power  a  little  further  1  to  make 
another  essay,  what  pleasure  sense  can  taste  in  some  or 
other  hitherto  unexperimented  rarity  1  What  more  pecu- 
liar gusto  this  or  that  thing  will  afford  ;  and  try  the  other 
dishl  or  to  renew  the  same  relishes  over  again!  He 
wliose  creative  fancy  could  make  him  golden  moimtains 
in  a  dream,  create  him  a  prince  of  nations,  g:ive  him  to  en- 
joy the  most  delicious  pleasures  of  the  world  in  idea,  might, 
with  some  plausible  show  of  reason,  be  deemed  the  hap- 
pier man,  than  he  that  hath  and  is  all  this  mdeed  :  for  his 
toil  is  less,  and  his  victories  imbloody,  his  pleasures  not 
so  impure.  However,  one  would  think,  that  to  such  whose 
utmost  attainments  end  only  in  the  pleasure  of  their  sense, 
and  have  but  this  epiphonema,  "  Now  let  us  sit  down,  eat, 
drink,  and  be  merry."  A  little  time  might  suffice  for  bu- 
siness of  no  more  weight ;  and  that  no  man,  after  he  hath 
once  seen  the  course  of  the  world  and  tasted  of  its  best 
delicacies,  should  greatly  wi.sh  for  a  renewal  or  long-con- 
tinued repetition  of  so  fulsome  vanities. 

But  the  most  find  not  the  world  so  kind,  and  are  not  so 
much  exercised  in  the  innovating  of  pleasures  as  miseries ; 
(changes  being  their  only  remedies,  as  the  moralist  speaks ;) 
or  in  bearing  (more  sadly)  the  same  every  day's  burden  ; 
and  drawing  out  the  series  of  their  calamities  in  the  same 
kind  through  the  whole  course  of  their  time.  And  surely, 
these  things  considered,  there  wants  not  what  might  per- 
suade a  sceptic,  or  even  a  perfect  infidel,  as  to  another 
world,  not  much  to  be  in  love  with  this.  For  upon  the 
whole,  let  but  the  case  be  'bus  put ;  is  it  not  as  good  to  do 
nothing,  as  to  be  busy  to  no  purpose  1  And  again,  is  it 
not  as  good  to  be  nothing,  as  to  be,  and  do  nothing  1 
Sober  reason  would  judge,  at  least,  there  were  but  little 
odds.  But  now;  if  such  considerations  as  have  been  men- 
tioned, would  suffice  to  state  the  matter  in  cequilibrio,  to 
make  the  scales  even  ;  ought  the  rational  sober  belief  of  a 
blessed  immortality  to  do  nothing  to  turn  the  balance! 
Ought  the  love  of  God  to  do  nothing'?  The  desire  and 
hope  of  a  state  perfectly  good  and  happy,  quiet  and  peace- 
ful ;  of  living  in  the  region  of  undefiled,  innocent  love  and 
pleasure;  in  the  communion  of  holy  and  blessed  spirits; 
(all  highly  pleased,  not  in  their  own  only,  but  one  another's 
happiness ;  and  all  concentring  in  the  admiration  and 
praise  of  their  common  Parent  and  Lord ;)  ought  all  this 
nottiing  to  alter  the  case  with  us ;  or  signify  nothing  to 
the  inclining  our  minds  to  the  so  unspeakably  better  part  1 
Meihinks  since  we  acknowledge  such  an  order  of  intelli- 
gent (and  already  happy)  creatures,  we  should  even  blush 
to  think  they  should  be  spectators  of  our  daily  course  and 
^loo  plainly  discovered)  inclinations,  so  difform  and  un- 
agreeable to  all  the  laws  and  dictates  of  reasonable  nature. 
What  censures,  may  we  think,  do  they  pass  upon  our  fol- 
lies 1  Are  those  things  great  in  their  eyes,  that  are  so  in 
ours  1  In  lesser  matters  (as  some  interpret  that  passage) 
I  indecencies  are  to  be  avoided,  because  of  those  blessed 
spirits.  May  we  not  then  be  ashamed,  that  they  should 
discern  our  terrene  dispositions  ;  and  see  us  come  so  un- 
willingly into  their  comfort  and  happy  slate  1  Although 
our  present  depressing  circumstances  will  not  suffer  us  to 
oe  in  all  things,  as  yet,  conformable  to  their  high  condi- 
tion, we  should  however  carry  it  as  candidates  thereto, 
studying  to  approve  ourselves,  waiting  and  longing  to  be 
transumed  and  taken  up  into  it. 

And  since  we  have  so  high  and  great  an  expectation, 
and  'tis  understood  and  known,  that  the  very  perfection 
and  end  of  our  beings  is  no  otherwise  attainable,  than  by 
putting  off  our  sordid  flesh,  and  laying  aside  this  earthly 
appurtenance  ;  that  yet  there  should  be  so  fixed  and  pre- 
vailing an  aversion  to  it,  is  a  most  unaccountable  thing, 
and  one  of  the  greatest  problems  in  nature.  I  say,  pre- 
vailing; for  admit,  what  is  like  to  be  alleged,  that  an  ad- 
dictedness  to  the  body  is  by  natural  inclination,  ought  not 
the  laws  of  a  superior  to  prevail  over  those  of  the  inferior 
nature  1  And  is  not  the  love  of  God  a  higher  natural  law 
than  that  of  the  body;  to  whom  here  our  service  is  little, 
yea,  our  disservice  much ;  and  from  whose  most  desirable 
commerce  we  suffer  so  uncomfortable  a  disclusion  by  the 
sad  circumstance  of  our  bodily  state  1  Are  we  more 
1  1  Cor.  viii. 


nearly  allied  to  a  piece  of  clay,  than  to  the  Father  of  ou.* 
spirits'?  And  again,  is  not  every  '.hing  nearest  tc  itself 
and  obliged  to  place  love  there,  rather  than  on  an  inferior 
thing  (at  least)  how  nearly  soever  tmited  ;  since  there  can 
be  no  pretence  of  any  such  nearer  union,  than  of  a  thing 
with  itself?  And  are  not  our  souls  and  our  bodies  (though 
united,  yet)  distinct  things  1  Why  then  should  not  our 
souls,  that  are  capable  of  understanding  their  own  interest, 
mind  that  first,  intend  most  their  own  perfection  and  im- 
provement, and  begin  their  charity  at  home"?  It  is  not 
strange,  that  what  is  weaker  and  more  ignoble,  should 
affect  union  with  what  is  above  it,  and  a  spring  of  life  to 
it ;  but  when  it  is  found  burdensome,  nothing  forbids,  but 
that  the  superior  being  may  be  well  content,  upon  fair  and 
allowabhe  terms,  to  be  rid  of  the  burden.  Therefore, 
though  flesh  and  blood  may  reluctate  and  shrink  at  it, 
when  we  think  of  laying  it  down  ;  yet  it  becomes  immor- 
tal spirits  to  consider  their  own  affairs,  and  be  (more 
principally)  intent  upon  what  will  be  their  own  advantage. 
If  so  mean  a  creature  as  a  sorry  flea,  finding  it  can  draw 
a  suitable  aliment  from  our  bodies,  affect  to  dwell  there, 
and  is  loath  to  leave  us ;  it  were  a  ludicrous  pity  to  be  there- 
fore content  to  endure  its  troublesome  vellications,  because 
we  fear  the  poor  animal  should  be  put  to  its  shifts,  and 
not  be  otherwise  able  to  find  a  subsistence. 

'Tis  true,  that  the  great  Creator  and  Lord  of  the  uni- 
verse, hath  not  permitted  us  the  liberty  of  so  throwing  off 
our  bodies  when  we  will,  which  otherwise  are  in  dignity 
far  more  beneath  our  spirits  than  so  despicable  a  creature 
is  beneath  them.  And  to  his  dispose  that  hath  ordered 
this  conjunction  for  a  time  (whether  we  look  upon  it  as 
an  effect  of  his  simple  pleasure,  or  of  his  displeasure)  we 
must  yield  an  awful  and  a  patient  submission,  till  this 
part  of  his  providence  towards  us  have  run  its  course  and 
attained  its  ends.  And  then,  how  welcome  should  the 
hour  of  our  discharge  and  freedom  be,  from  so  troublesome 
an  associate "?  Which  upon  no  other  account,  than  that  ol 
duty  towards  the  Author  of  our  beings,  one  would  more 
endure  ;  than  to  have  the  most  noisome  offensive  vermin 
always  preying  upon  his  flesh.  At  least,  (though  the  con- 
sideration of  our  own  advantage  had  no  place  with  us  in 
this  matter,)  the  same  sense  of  duty  towards  our  great 
Creator,  which  should  make  us  patient  of  an  abode  in  the 
body  while  he  will  have  it  so,  should  also  form  our  spirits 
to  a  willing  departure  when  it  shall  be  his  pleasure  to  re- 
lease us  thence.  But,  that  neither  a  r^ard  to  his  pleasure, 
nor  our  own  blessedness,  should  prevail  against  our  love 
to  the  body,  is  the  unaccountable  thing  I  speak  of.  And 
to  plead  only,  in  the  case,  the  corruption  of  our  natures 
that  sets  us  "at  odds  with  God  and  ourselves,  is  to  justify 
the  thing  by  what  is  itself  most  unjustifiable ;  or  rather 
(as  some  that  have  affected  to  be  styled  philosophers  hare 
been  wont  to  expedite  difficulties,  by  resolving  the  matter 
into  the  usual  course  of  nature)  to  resolve  the  thing  into 
itself,  and  say,  it  is  so  because  it  is  so,  or  is  wont  to  be  ; 
and  indeed,  plainly  to  confess  there  is  no  account  to  be 
given  of  it.  This  being  the  very  thing  about  which  we 
expostulate,  that  reasonable  nature  should  so  prevaricate. 
The  commonness  whereof  doth  not  take  away  the  wonder, 
but  rather  render  it  more  dreadful  and  astonishing. 

The  truth  is,  the  incongruity  in  the  present  case  is  only 
to  be  solved  by  redress;  by  earnest  strivings  with  God, 
and  our  own  souls,  till  we  find  ourselves  recovered  into  a 
right  mind  ;  into  the  constitution  and  composure  whereof 
agenerous  fortitude  halh  a  necessary  ingrediency;  that 
usually  upon  lower  motives  refuses  no  change  of  climate, 
and  will  carry  a  man  into  unknown  countries,  and  through 
greatest  hazards  in  the  pursuit  of  honourable  enterprises, 
of  a  much  inferior  kind.  It  is  reckoned  a  brave  and  manly 
thin?,  to  be  in  the  temper  of  one's  mind  a  citizen  of  the 
world  ;  (meaning  it  of  this  lower  one  ;)  but  why  not  rather 
of  the  universe  1  And  'tis  accounted  mean  and  base,  that 
one  should  be  so  confined  by  his  fear  or  sloth  to  that  spot 
of  ground  where  he  was  born,  as  not  upon  just  inducement 
to  look  abroad,  and  go  for  warrantable  and  worthy  pur- 
poses (yea,  if  it  were  only  honest  self-advantage)  as  far  as 
the  utmost  ends  of  the  earth:  but  dare  we  not  venture  a 
little  further'?  These  are  too  narrow  bounds  for  a  truly 
great  spirit.     Anv  thing  that  is  tinctured  with  earth,  or 


THE  VANITY  OF  MAN  AS  MORTAL. 


291 


savours  of  mortality,  we  should  reckon  too  mean  for  as ; 
and  not  regret  it,  that  heaven  and  immortaliiy  are  not  lo 
oe  attained  but  b\j  dying :  so  should  the  love  of  our  own 
souls,  and  the  desire  of  a  perpetual  state  of  lif^,  triumph 
over  the  fear  of  death  But  it  may  be  alleged  by  some, 
tji at 'tis  only  a  solicitous  love  to  their  souls,  that  makes 
them  dread  this  change.  They  know  it  will  no!  fare  with 
all  alike  hereafter,  and  know  not  what  their  own  lot  shall 
be.  And  is  this  indeed  our  case"?  Then,  what  have  we 
been  doing  all  this  while  7  And  how  are  we  concerned 
to  lose  no  more  time  1  But  too  often  a  terrene  spirit  lurks 
under  tliis  pretence ;  and  men  allege  their  want  of  assur- 
ance of  heaven,  when  the  love  of  this  earth,  which  they 
cannot  endure  to  think  of  leaving,  holds  their  hearts. 

And,  (a  little  to  discuss  this  matter,)  what  would  Ave 
have  to  assure  usl  Do  we  expect  a  vision  or  a  voice  1 
Or  are  we  not  to  try  ourselves  ;  and  search  for  such  cha- 
racters in  our  own  souls,  as  may  distinguish  and  note  us 
out  for  heaven  1  Among  these,  what  can  be  more  clear 
and  certain  than  this,  that  we  have  our  hearts  much  set 
upon  it"?  They  that  have  their  conversations  in  heaven, 
may  from  thence  expect  the  Saviour,  ■"  who  shall  change 
their  vile  bodies,  ("the  bodies  of  their  humiliation,  or  low 
abject  state,)  and  make  them  like  his  own  glorious  body. 
God,  who  will  render  to  every  man  according  to  his  works, 
will  give  them  °  that  by  patient  continuance  in  well-dning 
seek  honour  and  glory  and  immortality,  eternal  life.  They 
that  P  set  their  affections  (or  minds)  on  the  things  above, 
not  those  on  the  earth;  when  Christ  shall  appear,  who  is 
their  life,  shall  appear  with  him  in  glory.  Mistake  not  the 
notion  of  heaven,  or  the  blessedness  of  the  other  world  ; 
render  it  not  to  yourselves  a  composition  of  sensual  en- 
joyments: understand  it  (principally)  to  consist  in  perfect 
holiness  and  communion  with  God  ;  (as  his  own  word  re- 
presents it,  and  as  reason  hath  taught  even  some  pagans 
to  reckon  of  it ;)  and  you  cannot  judge  of  your  own  right 
by  a  surer  and  plainer  rule,  than  that  eternal  blessedness 
shall  be  theirs,  whose  hearts  are  truly  bent  and  directed 
towards  it.  Admit  we  then  this  principle  ;  and  now  let 
us  Treason  with  ourselves  from  it :  We  have  a  discovery 
made  to  us  of  a  future  state  of  blessedness  in  God,  not  as 
desirable  only  in  itself,  but  as  attainable  and  possible  to 
oe  enjoyed,  (the  Redeemer  having  opened  the  way  to  it 


m  Phil.  iiL  20, : 


n  Gr. 


by  his  blood,  and  given  us,  at  once,  both  the  prospect  and 
the  offer  of  it,)  so  that  it  is  before  us  as  the  object  of  a 
reasonable  desire.  Now  either  our  hearts  are  so  taken 
with  this  discovery,  that  we  above  all  things  desire  this 
state,  or  not.  If  they  be,  we  desire  it  more  than  our 
earthly  stations  and  enjoyments,  are  willing  to  leave  the 
world  and  the  body  to  enjoy  it;  and  so  did  falsely  accuse 
ourselves  of  a  prevailing  aversion  to  this  change.  If  they 
be  not,  the  thing  is  true,  that  we  are  upon  no  terms  will- 
ing to  die  :  but  the  cause  is  falsely,  or  partially,  assigned. 
It  is  not  so  much  because  we  are  unassured' of  heaven, 
but  (as  was  above  suspected)  because  we  love  this  world 
better,  and  our  hearts  centre  in  it  as  our  most  desirable 
good. 

Therefore  we  see  how  unreasonably  this  is  often  said, 
we  are  unwilling  to  change  states,  because  we  are  unas- 
sured. The  truth  is,  they  are  unassured,  because  they  are 
unwilling.  And  w-hat  then  ensues"?  They  are  unwilling 
because  they  are  unwilling.  And  so  they  may  endlessly 
dispute  themselves  round,  from  unwillingness  to  unwill- 
ingness. But  is  there  no  way  to  get  out  of  this  unhappy 
circle  1  In  order  to  it,  let  the  case  be  more  fully  under- 
stood :  either  this  double  unwillingness  must  be  referred 
to  the  same  thing,  or  to  divers  :  if  to  the  same  thing,  it  is 
not  sense;  they  saj' what  signifies. nothing ;  for  being  to 
assign  a  cause  of  their  unwillingness  to  quit  the  body,  to 
say,  because  they  are  unwilling,  {viz.  of  that,)  is  to  assign 
no  cause,  for  nothing  can  be  the  cause  of  itself:  but  if 
they  refer  to  divers  things,  and  say,  they  are  unwilling  to 
go  out  of  the  body,  because  they  are  unwilling  to  forsake 
earth  for  heaven  ;  the  case  is  then  plain,  but  sad,  and  not 
alterable,  but  with  the  alteration  of  the  temper  of  their 
spirits.  Wherefore  let  us  all  apply  ourselves  (since  with 
none  this  is  so  fully  done  that  no  more  is  needful)  to  the 
serious  endeavour  of  getting  our  souls  purged  from  the 
di'oss  of  this  world,  and  enamoured  of  the  purity  and 
blessedness  of  heaven.  So  the  cause  and  effect  will 
vanish  together ;  w^e  shall  find  that  suitableness  and  m- 
clination  in  our  spirits  to  that  blessedness  as  may  yield 
us  the  ground  of  a  comfortable  persuasion  that  it  be- 
longs to  us ;  and  then  not  be  unwilling,  though  many 
deaths  stood  in  our  way,  to  break  through  to  attam  it. 


9  Rom.  ii  6, 7. 


p  Col.  iii.  2, 3, 4. 


DISCOURSE 


! 


RELATING  TO  THE 


EXPECTATION  OF  FUTURE  BLESSEDNESS. 

WITH  AN  APPENDIX. 


HEBREWS  X.  36. 

FCR  YE  HAVE  NEED  OP  PATIENCE,  THAT,  AFTER  VE  HAVE  DONE  THE  WILL  OF  GOD,  YE  MIGHT  RECEIVE  THE  PROMISE. 


It  is  evident,  the  Creator  of  this  lower  world  never  in- 
tended it  to  be  the  perpetual  dwelling-place  of  its  inha- 
bitants, if  man  had  continued  innocent;  inasmuch  as  sin 
and  death,  by  inseparable  connexion,  entered  together; 
had  sin  never  entered,  aeath  would  never  have  had  place 
here.  And  wheieas,  by  the  blessing  of  God,  multitudes 
had  been  continually  born  into  this  world,  and  none  have 
ever  died  out  of  it ;  by  consequence  it  must  have  been,  in 
time,  so  over-peopled,  as  not  to  contain  its  inhabitants. 
Whereupon,  man  having  been  created  in  a  state  of  proba- 
tion, as  his  fall  showed,  and  a  candidate  for  a  better  state 
in  some  nobler  region  ;  the  time  of  probation  being  over 
(the  limits  whereof,  considering  the  sad  events  that  soon 
ensued,  it  was  to  no  purpose  for  us  to  know,  nor  conse- 
quently for  God  to  reveal)  it  could  not  be,  but  that  nature 
itself,  being,  in  every  one,  pure  and  genuine,  must  prompt 
him  to  continual  aspirings  towards  the  highest  perfection, 
whereof,  by  the  Divine  will,  he  should  find  himself  ca- 
paole.  Though  yet  it  could  not  consist  with  the  sinful- 
ness of  his  present  state  to  be  over-hasty  ;  but  the  con- 
science of  his  being  a  debtor  for  all  his  present  attainments 
to  the  freest  and  most  munificent  bounty,  must  oblige  him 
to  a  dutiful  compliance  with  the  wise  and  sovereign  plea- 
sure of  his  blessed  Lord;  to  a  cheerful  contentation,  and 
willingness,  that  he  should  make  what  further  use  ol  him 
he  should  see  fit,  for  transmitting  a  holy  life  and  nature  to 
such  as  should  come  after  him ;  and  to  a  most  calm,  se- 
rene, and  pleasant  expectation  of  being  seasonably  trans- 
lated higher. 

But  now  sin  and  death  having  invaded  this  world  and 
spread  through  it,  into  how  horrid  a  gulf  have  they  turned 
this  part  of  God's  creation  !  Men  having  by  their  own 
apostacy  cut  themselves  off  from  God,  do  each  of  them 
grasp  at  deity  ;  every  one  attempts  to  fill  up  his  room,  and 
is  so  profanely  insolent,  as  to  affect  being  a  god  to  him- 
self, his  own  first  and  last.  And  all  having  withdrawn 
themselves  from  God,  and  abandoned  his  interest,  which 
the  law  of  their  creation,  and  their  dependent  state,  obliged 
them  to  serve;  they  have  no  common  interest  left:  where- 
upon every  one  makes  his  own  his  only  interest.  And  that 
sovereign  principle  of  divine  love  being  extinct,  whereby 
they  were  to  love  God  with  all  their  hearts,  souls,  minds, 
and  might,  which  is  the  first  and  great  command;  the 
second  branch,  like  the  former,  by  which  they  were  all,  for 
his  sake,  to  love  each  other,  as  himself,  naturally  fails  and 
dies.  Whence  every  one  sets  up  himself,  in  exclusion  to 
God,  and  all  oilier  men.  And  that  self  (all  concern  for 
their  better  and  nobler  part,  which  could  only  have  its 
support  and  satisfaction  in  God, being sup))ressed  and  lost) 
»s  only  their  baser,  their  carnal  self  'Tis  this  alone  they 
are  concerned  lor.  And  every  one  seeks  to  catch  and  en- 
gross all  that  he  can,  for  the  service  and  gratification  of 
this  vile,  sensual  self,  out  of  this  sensible  world ;  which, 


because  it  is  all  empty  vanity,  and  hath  not  enough  in  it  to 
satiate  so  enormous  and  ungoverned  an  appetite,  this 
makes  them  tear  this  world  in  pieces;  every  one  snatching 
what  he  can  of  it  for  himself  Hence  are  wars,  and  fight- 
ings, James  iv.  1,  4.  And  as  by  friendship,  every  one 
seeks  to  contract  with  this  world  separately,  and  alone,  so 
as  to  engross  it  to  himself,  apart  from  other  men,  they 
make  themselves  enemies  to  God ;  so  they  become  devils 
to  one  another.  And  thus  are  men  generally  drowned  in 
perdition  and  destruction.  But  the  merciful  God  hath  ap- 
pointed his  own  Son  a  Redeemer  for  us,  who  gave  himself 
for  our  sins,  to  deliver  us  (to  take  us  out  from.  Gal.  i.4.  as 
the  word  signifies)  this  present  evil  world;  whose  first  law, 
and  most  deeply  fundamental  to  the  whole  Christian  state, 
as  the  case  before  stated  required,  is  that  of  self-denial; 
which,  so  far  as  it  obtains,  doth  truly  restore  us  to  our- 
selves, and  to  our  first  and  primitive  state,  and  place,  in 
God's  Creation.  For  having  suffered  once  for  us,  the  just 
for  the  unjust,  to  bring  us  to  God,  1  Pet.  iii.  18.  and 
having  redeemed  us  to  God  by  his  blood.  Rev.  v.  9.  when 
he  shall  have  obtained  this  his  end  upon  us,  all  things  fall 
right  with  us  as  to  him,  ourselves,  and  one  another. 

Yet  because  the  wise  and  God-becoming  methods,  which 
are  used  in  pursuance  of  the  Redeemer's  design,  do  not 
generally  take  place,  or  prevail  against  the  spirit  of  this 
world ;  but  men,  through  their  own  wicked  inclination, 
obstinately  adhere  to  this  world,  seeking  their  all  from  it; 
and  the  usurping  God  of  this  world  blinding  their  minds, 
that  the  glorious  light  of  the  gospel  of  Christ  should  not 
shine  to  them,  (2  Cor.  iv.  4.)  and  being  an  in  working  spirit 
in  (he  children  of  disobedience,  (Ephes.  ii.  2.)  leading  them 
captive  at  his  will,  (2  Tim.  ii.  ult.)  and  that  this  prince  of 
the  darkness  of  this  world,  made  up  of  malice  and  envy 
against  God,  and  of  malignity  and  mischief  against  men, 
as  their  common  Apollyon,  and  destroyer,  doth  with  all 
his  legions  haunt  and  infest  this  lower  world,  till  the  time 
of  their  torment  come  ;  and  that  thus  enmity  against  God 
and  his  Christ  is  fomented,  and  naturally  propagated  from 
age  to  age  in  this  world  ;  it  is  therefore  God's  righteous 
and  declared  pleasure,  to  put  an  end  to  this  state  of  things ; 
not  to  continue  this  world,  as  the  stage  of  his  perpetuated 
dishonours  ;  but  to  shut  it  up  by  the  final  judgment,  and 
at  last  consume  it  with  fire.  In  the  meantime,  while  he  is 
gradually  consuming  sinners  out  of  this  earth,  he  is,  by 
equal  degrees,  gathering  home  his  own  out  of  it.  And  to 
them,  how  great  a  privilege  is  it  to  be  taken  out  from  this 
present  evil  world  !  Which  that  they  may  apprehend  with 
savour  and  relish,  their  blessed  Lord  hath  let  them  have  a 
foiesight  of  death  abolished,  and  of  life  and  immortality 
brought  to  light  in  his  gospel ;  and  gives  them  the  spirit  of 
wisdom  and  revelation,  that  they  may  know  the  hope  of 
their  calling,  (Ephes.  i.  17,  18.)  endowing  them  Aviih  that 
faith,  which  is  the  substance  of  the  things  they  hope  for 


OF  PATIENCE,  IN  EXPECTATION  OF  FUTURE  BLESSEDNESS. 


293 


Heb.  xi.  1.  Whereupon,  having  all  the  glories  of  the 
other  world  in  v'iew,  and  the  representation  of  a  state, 
which  they  have  reason  to  apprehend  as  much  more  bliss- 
ful and  glorious,  than,  in  the  way  of  even  primitive  nature, 
they  could  have  attained  to ;  in  proportion  as  the  second 
Adam  duth  excel  the  first  in  dignity,  performances,  and 
glory.  Here,  therefore,  their  need  of  patience,  in  expecting 
this  "fin al^ issue  of  things,  to  themselves  in  particular,  and 
to  the  whole  redeemed  community,  is  most  conspicuous, 
and  appears  great,  even  as  it  relates  to  this  expecialion, 
though  they  did  not  labour  under  the  pressure  of  very 
grievous  evils  besides,  which  yet  must  increase  that  need. 

But  it  is  this  expectation  itself,  to  which  I  intend  prin- 
cipally to  confine  the  present  discourse.  In  reference 
whereunto,  the  greater  the  pleasure  is  of  our  fore-sight,  the 
greater  need  we  sfiall  have  of  this  patience ;  i.  e.  as  our 
fore-sight,  though  beholding  the  tei  rible  things,  death,  and 
the  final  dissolution  of  all  things,  which  must  intervene, 
doth  yet  terminate  on  the  blessed  consequents  thereof 
And  those  consequents,  viz.  the  enjoyments  and  blessed- 
ness of  the  future  state,  it  is  plain  the  apostle  did  intend 
in  these  words,  as  the  context  evidently  shows,  i.  e.  whe- 
ther you  consider  the  foregoing  or  the  following  context. 
For  that  great  recompense  of  reward,  mentioned  in  the 
immediately  foregoing  ver.  35.  and  the  salvation  of  our 
souls,  in  the  close  of  this  chapter;  and  the  things  hoped 
for,  and  not  seen,  in  the  very  beginning  of  the  next,  do 
plainly  show,  the  discourse  being  of  a  piece,  that  the  pro- 
viise  to  be  received,  must  be  the  promise  of  that  blessed- 
ness, that  is  not  to  be  enjoyed,  in  the  fulness  of  it,  but  by 
intervening  death;  nor  by  all  holy  men  together  till  the 
end  of  all  things,  chap.  xi.  13.  And  whereas  we  have  here 
the  expression  oi  receiving  i\ie  promise,  it  is  plain  the  pro- 
mise must  be  understood  objectively  ;  i.  e.  that  transcen- 
dent good  that  was  promised ;  viz.  that  principally,  where- 
in all  the  promises  do  finally  and  lastly  centre  :  which,  it 
is  plain,  the  apostle  here  most  especially  intends,  as  being 
eminently  called  the  promise.  Whereupon,  there  are 
now  two  things  that  offer  themselves  to  our  observation 
from  this  Scripture  : — 1.  That  the  business  of  a  sincere 
Christian  in  this  world,  is  to  be  doing  the  will  of  God: — 
2.  That  patience,  in  expecting  the  consequent  blessedness 
of  the  future  state,  is  a  needful  requisite  in  every  sincere 
and  thorough  Christian.  The  former  of  these  I  shall  not 
insist  upon ;  but  only  touch  transiently. 

I  need  not  tell  you  that,  by  the  will  of  God,  we  are  to 
understand  the  object  of  his  will,  or  that  which  he  wills, 
viz.  the  thing  willed ;  not  his  will  itself,  which  is  not  a 
thing  yet  to  be  done,  but  eternal,  as  his  own  very  being 
itself.  And  again,  that  you  may  easily  apprehend,  it  is 
our  duty  willed  by  him,  and  not  mere  events,  that  must  be 
understood  to  be  the  object  of  this  will,  -viz.  wherein  we 
have  a  part  to  act ;  otherwise,  how  are  we  said  to  do  his 
will!  Of  this,  every  sincere  Christian  must  be  the  active 
instrument.  All  creatures,  whether  they  will  or  no,  whe- 
ther they  design  any  such  thing,  or  design  it  not,  must  be 
the  passive  .subjects,  upon  which  his  will  takes  place.  But 
10  be  the  active  instrument  thereof,  is,  in  fact,  the  business 
only  of  a  devoted  person,  one  given  up  to  God  in  Christ. 
Such  only  are  in  an  immediate  capacity  or  promptitude  to 
do  the  will  of  God,  intentionally,  and  with  their  own  de- 
sign ;  though  it  be  the  imdoubted  duty  of  all,  who  are 
naturally  capable  thereof. 

Will  this  rebel-world  never  consider  this,  that  are  in  a 
continual  war  with  him  in  whose  hands  is  their  breath,  on 
this  high  point,  whose  will  shall  be  supreme  1  and  dread 
not  the  i.ssue  of  so  unequal  a  combat,  between  omnipotence 
and  an  earthen  potsherd  1  Nor  bethink  themseh^es  what 
woes  impend  and  hang  over  their  gitilly  heads,  for  so  mad 
insolence,  as  striving  with  their  maker  1  Isa.  xlv.  9.  Will 
they  never  consider  it,  that  pretend  subjection  to  him, 
when  their  very  pretence  is  a  mockery'?  and  that  aff"ront 
him  with  the  frequent  repetition  of  that  ludicrous  petition, 
"  Thy  will  be  done  on  earth,"  amidst  their  open,  con- 
temptuous oppositions  thereto  1 

2.  But  I  shall  apply  myself  to  consider  the  latter  of 
these  ;  that  patience,  in  the  expectation  of  the  blessedness 
of  the  heavenly  estate,  is  very  needful  to  every  sincere 
and  thorough  Christian. — And  in  speaking  to  this,  I  shall 
— 1.  Give  .some  account  of  this  patience,  according  as  it 
23 


is  to  have  this  exercise,  in  expecting  future  blessedness  ; 
— 2.  Labour  to  evince  to  you  the  necessity  of  it;  how 
needful  a  thing  it  is  to  any  serious  and  thorough  Chris- 
tian.    And  so  the  use  will  ensue. 

I.  I  .shall  give  some  account  of  this  patience,  as  it  is  to 
be  exercised  in  the  present  case.  We  might,  indeed,  as- 
sign a  third  occasion  of  exercising  patience,  besides  suffer- 
ing present  incumbent  evils,  and  expecting  a  future  hoped 
good,  riz.  doing  the  good  which  belongs  to  the  duty  of  our 
present  slate,  which  the  text  points  out  to  us  in  what  it  in- 
terposes, "after  ye  have  done  the  willof  God, "and  which 
is  intimated,  when  we  are  charged  not  to  be  weary  of 
well-doing,  (Gal.  vi.  9.)  and,  by  a  patient  continuance  in 
well-doing  to  seek  honour,  glory,  immortality,  &c.  (Pcom. 
ii.  7.)  and  to  run  with  patience  the  race  set  before  us, 
(Heb.  xii.  1.)  when  also  the  good  ground  is  .said  to  bring 
forth  with  patience,  Luke  viii.  15.  But  Coii^iiicring  the 
pleasure  which  doing  good  contains  in  itself,  and  that  the 
patience  it  gives  occasion  for  is  accidental,  and  arises 
from  the  other  two;  either  the  sufferings  to  which  doing 
good  often  exposes,  or  the  expectation  of  a  greater  good 
in  a  perfect  state  ;  when  also  all  indisposition  and  lassi- 
tude shall  perfectly  cease  ;  we  need  not  make  this  a  dis- 
tinct head.  Or,  however,  our  present  design  confines  us, 
chiefly,  to  the  patience  that  is  to  be  exercised  in  the  ex- 
pectation of  our  final  good, — viz.  blessedness.  And  in 
speaking  hereto,  I  shall — 1.  Lay  down  some  things  more 
generally,  and — 2.  Thence  proceed  to  what  will  more 
particularly  concern  the  matter  in  hand. 

1.  There  are  some  things  more  generally  to  be  consi- 
dered which,  though  more  remotely,  will  aptly  serve  our 
purpose. 

1.  That  the  natural  constitution  of  the  human  soul  dis- 
poseth  it,  equally  to  covet  and  pursue  a  desirable  good,  as 
to  regret  and  shun  a  hurtful  evil.  This  is  plain  to  any 
that  understand  their  own  natures,  and  take  any  notice  of 
the  most  connatural  motions  and  operations  of  their  in- 
ward man. 

2.  That  the  want  of  such  a  desirable  and  suitable  good, 
understood  to  be  so,  is  as  truly  afflicting  and  grievous,  as 
the  pleasure  of  a  present  evil. 

3.  That  an  alii'lity  to  bear  that  want,  is  as  real  and 
needful  an  endowment,  as  the  fortitude  by  which  we  en- 
dure a  painful  evil.  Yea,  and  it  maybe  as  sensibly  pain- 
ful, the  pain  of  thirst  being  as  grievous  as  that  of  a  wound 
or  bruise.  Therefore  the  ability  to  bear  it  without  des- 
pondencv,  or  any  perturbation  or  discomposure  of  spirit, 
call  it  by  what  name  you  wall,  is  a  most  desirable  advan- 
tage and  benefit  to  any  man. 

4.  That,  therefore,  it  equally  belongs  to  patience,  to  be 
exercised  in  the  one  case,  as  well  as  in  the  other.  And 
the  general  nature  of  it  being  found  in  each,  as  we  shall 
further  see  hereafter,  the  name  is,  with  equal  fitness,  com- 
mon to  both,  and  to  be  given  alike  to  either  of  them.  For 
what  do  names  serve  for,  but  to  express  the  natures  of 
things  as  near  as  we  can"?  These  generals  being  thus 
premised,  I  shall, 

2.  Proceed  more  distinctly  to  give  account  of  patience, 
according  to  this  notion  of  it,  by  showing — what  it  sup- 
poses, and — wherein  it  consists. 

1.  What  it  supposes,  as  it  hath  its  exercise  this  way, 
viz.  in  the  expectation  of  the  blessedness  of  the  future 
state. 

2.  Wherein,  so  considered,  it  consists. 
1.  What,  thus  taken,  it  supposes. 

1.  That  blessedness,  truly  so  called,  be  actually  under- 
stood and  apprehended  by  the  expectants,  as  a  real  and 
most  desirable  good  to  them.  They  can,  otherwise,  never 
think  themselves  to  need  patience,  in  expecting  it.  To  the 
blind,  befooled  world,  true  blessedness  is  a  frightful  thing. 
They  run  from  it  as  a  wo/wo,  or  some  terrible  appearance. 
Religion,  i.  e.  nearness  to  God,  and  inward  conversation 
with'him,  (which  we  will  not  say  hath  affinity  with  it,  but 
contains  it,  or  is  the  same  thing^)  thev  dread  as  a  formi- 
dable dark-ness,  or  the  shadow  of  death.  Therefore  they 
say  to  God.  "  Depart  from  us."  Whereupon  it  is  not  the 
want  of  this  blessedness,  but  the  thing  itself,  so  monstrous- 
Iv  misunderstood,  that  gives  exercise  to  their  patience; 
nor  have  they  patience  enough  for  it.  The  Di-vine  pre- 
sence they  cannot  endure. 


294 


OF  PATIENCE,  IN  EXPECTATION 


2.  The  delays  and  deferring  of  this  blessedness  must  be 
an  afflicting  and  felt  grievance.  Otherwise  patience  can 
have  no  place  or  exercise  about  it.  Paganish  morality 
hath  taught  us,^  Nulla  est  Virtus  quiz  noti  sentis  perpeti : 
it  is  no  virtue  at  all  to  bear  that  which  J  do  not  feel.  A 
stone,  if  it  bears  the  most  heavy  weight,  yet  feels  it  not. 
And,  saith  that  instructive  writer,  we  ascribe  not  to  the 
virtuous  man  the  hardness  of  a  stone.  If  I  have  no  feel- 
ing of  a  grievance  in  the  deferred  blessedness  of  the  future 
State,  I  have  no  use  for  patience  in  expecting  it.  Hope 
deferred  (saith  one  divinely  wise)  makes  the  heart  sick. 
There  will  be  a  sickness  at  the  heart,  by  the  delay  of  what 
I  hope  for,  most  of  all,  when  the  sum  of  my  blessedness 
is  the  thing  hoped  for,  and  still  deferred.  The  delay  must 
be  as  grievous,  as  the  attainment  is  pre-apprehended  to  be 
pleasant  and  joyous ;  viz.  that  when  it  comes,  it  is  a  tree 
of  life  :  so  iiie  gratefulness  of  enjoyment  is,  in  the  oppo- 
site sentence,  (Prov.  xiii.  12.)  set  against  the  heart-sick- 
ness of  expectation.  They  that  never  felt  their  hearts 
sick  with  the  desire  of  heaven,  and  the  blessedness  of  that 
state,  cannot  conceive  of  it  a  tree  of  life  before-hand,  nor 
ever  know  what  patience  in  expecting  it  signifies,  in  the 
meantime.  These  things  being  supposed  unto  this  pa- 
tience, we  next  come  to  show, 

2.  Wherein  it  consists.  And  are  here  to  consider,  that 
its  more  special  nature  cannot  be  understood,  without 
taking  some  previous  short  notice  of  its  general  nature, 
or  what  it  hath  in  it  common  to  it  with  other  patience  un- 
der the  same  name.  Its  more  general  notion  seems  not 
capable  of  any  fitter  expression,  than  an  ability  becoming- 
ly to  endure.  But  because  that  may  be  without  or  with 
reference  to  God ;  this  latter  we  are  to  single  out,  for  the 
subject  of  our  present  discourse,  as  that  which  the  text 
expressly  intends :  Ye  have  need  of  patience,  that  after  ye 
have  done  the  will  of  God  ye  may  receive  the  promise. 
And  its  reference  to  God  may  be  twofold,  viz.  both  as  he 
is  the  Author  and  the  Object  of  it. 

1.  As  he  is  the  Author.  Inasmuch  as  it  is  a  most  tise- 
ful  principle  and  disposition  of  soul,  which,  with  a  com- 
passionate regard  to  the  exigency  of  our  present  state,  God 
is  pleased  to  implant  in  such  as  he  hath  a  favour  for,  that 
they  may  not  be  exposed,  as  a  vessel  in  a  wide  and  stormy 
sea,  unable  otherwise  to  endure,  and  under  a  necessity  of 
sinking,  or  of  being  broken  in  pieces.  In  their  make  and 
frame  they  are  fitted  to  their  state,  even  by  gracious  vouch- 
safement ;  and  therefore  is  this  fitly  reckoned  a  divine 
grace.  We  find  it  placed  among  the  fruits  of  the  Spirit, 
(Gal.  V.  22.)  and  are  therefore  to  count  it,  as  that  is  the 
Spirit  of  grace,  a  most  needful  and  excellent  grace  of  that 
blessed  Spirit,  by  which,  duly  exercised,  the  soul  is  com- 
posed unto  a  right  temper,  not  only  in  bearing  the  evils  of 
this  present  .state,  but  in  waiting  for  the  blessedness  of  the 
future.  And  thus  we  consider  it  as  not  only  a  rational 
temperament,  that  may,  in  great  part,  take  its  rise  from 
ourselves,  and  the  sober  use  of  our  own  thoughts,  (which 
yet  it  unbecomes  us  not  to  employ  to  this  purpose,)  but 
also  as  a  gratuitous  donation,  a  gift  of  the  good  Spirit  of 
God.  And  hereof  there  is  anot  obscure  intimation  in  the 
text,  telling  us  we  have  need  of  patience.  'Tis  grace,  of 
merciful  vouchsafement,  that  considers  what  we  do  need. 
Whence,  therefore,  we  hear  of  a  throne  of  grace,  whither 
we  are  to  come  for  mercy  and  grace  to  help  in  time  of 
need,  Heb.  iv.  16. 

And,  as  such,  how  fitly  is  its  nature  signified  in  the 
mentioned  place  by  the  word  jiaKpoBvfiin/longanimitv ; 
which  we  read,  less  properly,  long-suffering,  there  being 
no  notion  of  suffering  in  the  word  ;  taking  also  B\<fto(,  or 
animus,  in  present  composition,  as  not  only  signifying 
mind,  as  that  denotes  the  understanding  faculty,  or  mere 
intellect ;  but  lively  desire,  a  certain  vigour  and  strength 
of  spirit,  zeal,  hope,  courage,  fortitude,  an  unaptness  to  a 
yielding  succumbency ;  and  this  (as  the  other  word  signi- 
ifies)  through  a  long  space  or  tract  of  time.  When  desire 
and  hope  are  lengthened  and  continued,  without  despon- 
dency, even  to  the  appointed  term,  and  during  the  pre- 
scribed season  of  expectation.  And  so  the  word  doth 
rather  incline  to  express  patience,  as  it  refers  unto  a 
desired  good,  that  we  are  expecting  and  wailing  for.  And 
yon  find  it  mentioned  with  other  graces,  (2  Pet.  i.  5,  6.) 
a  Seneca. 


by  the  word  in  the  text,  imfiovh,  which  is  equally  apt  to  ex- 
press a  permanent  waiting,  or  expectation  of  good,  as  suf- 
fering of  incumbent  evil.  But  also,  if  we  consider  that 
context,  we  there  may  discern  its  heavenly  descent,  and 
its  being  a  part  of  the  offspring  of  God  among  men.  For 
immediately  upon  the  mention  of  a  divine  nature  partici- 
pated, (or  a  godly  frame  and  habit  of  soul,)  that  carries  a 
man  up,  or  enables  him  to  emerge  and  escape  the  pollu- 
tions of  this  impure  world  ;  besides  this  escape  are  to  be 
added  (not  without  our  own  intervening  diligence)  the 
several  following  gracious  principles,  as  branches,  into 
which  that  divine  nature  shoots  forth,  exerts,  and  spreads 
itself,  of  which  this  patience  is  one. 

And,  to  show  its  divine  original,  God  is  pleased  to  style 
himself  in  his  word,  the  God  of  patience,  (Rom.  xv.  5.)  it 
is  his  very  image  in  the  soul.  For  is  not  the  Divine  pa- 
tience one  of  the  great  attributes  by  which  we  are  to  know 
him,  and  for  which  we  are  to  adore  him  1  It  is  that,  by 
which  he  suffers  not  hurt,  whereof  the  Divine  Being  is 
not  capable;  but  by  which  he  bears  much  wrong  from  his 
injurious  revolted  creatures.  Whence  it  is  a  mighty 
power  that  is  said  to  lie  in  the  Divine  patience.  Let  the 
power  of  my  Lord  be  great,  according  as  tliou  hast  spoken, 
the  Lord  is  long-suffering,  &c.  Numb.  xiv.  17,  18.  It  is, 
indeed,  his  power  over  himself,  by  which  he  restrains  his 
anger,  his  omnipotent  anger,  that  would  otherwise  go 
forth  to  consume  offending  creatures.  We  cannot,  in- 
deed, conceive  any  such  passion  in  God  which  he  finds  a 
difficulty  in  restraining,  though  speaking  to  men,  he  uses 
their  language,  and  bespeaks  them  in  their  own  idioms 
and  forms  of  speech.  But  'tis  owing  to  the  necessary 
self-originate  concurrence  of  all  perfections  in  his  nature 
and  being,  that  nothing  unbecoming  Deity  can  have  place 
there.  In  the  meantime,  since  the  new  creature  is  God- 
like, the  image  of  God,  we  hence  are  taught  to  conceive 
of  patience,  (a  part  of  ihat  production,)  not  under  the  no- 
tion of  dull  and  sluggish  impotency,  but  of  power,  an 
ability  to  endure,  as  before,  and  that  as  having  its  original 
and  pattern  in  the  blessed  God  himself 

2.  And  it  is  also  specified  by  a  respect  to  God  as  the  ob- 
ject. For  a  deference  to  his  holy  pleasure  in  ordering  the 
occasions  of  such  exercise,  is  carried  in  the  notion  of  it. 
It  hath  in  it  submission  to  the  will  of  God.  And  by  this 
it  comes  to  be  taken  into  religion,  or  religion  must  be 
taken  into  it,  and  be  comprehended  in  our  conception  of 
it.  True  and  gracious  patience,  and  every  exercise  of  it, 
is  to  be  looked  upon  as  a  part  of  piety  and  godliness. 
We  are  here  not  to  suppose  that  patience,  in  expecting 
good,  and  in  bearing  evils,  must  have  distinct  notions,  but 
exercises  only.  And,  though  these  exercises  are  distinct, 
yet  as  the  suffering  of^  many  incumbent  evils  is,  in  our  pre- 
sent state,  complicated  with  the  absence  and  expectation 
of  the  good  we  desire  ;  these  exercises  are  scarce  ever  to 
be  separated.  It  is,  therefore,  the  less  to  surprise  us,  that 
this  ingredient  into  the  nature  of  patience,  submission  to 
God,  should  run  into  both,  as  we  find  a  mixture  in  the 
occasions  thereof.  As  when  the  Psalmist  complains  of 
them  that  breathed  cruelty  against  him,  he  says,  '  he  had 
fainted'  (as  we  translate,  for  those  words  "  I  had  fainted" 
are  not  in  the  Hebrew  text,  but  concealed  in  a  more  em- 
phatical  aposiopcesis :  q.d.  it  cannot  be  expressed  how  de- 
plorable my  case  had  been,  if  I  had  not  believed)  to  see 
the  goodness  of  the  Lord.  And  adds.  Wait  on  the  Lord, 
he  shall  strengthen  thine  heart,  &c.     Psal.  xxvii.  13,  14. 

This,  in  the  meantime,  is  the  voice  of  patience.  It  is 
the  Lord ;  and,  in  the  present  case,  'tis  he  that  disposes, 
and  orders  I  should  so  long  bear  and  wait ;  that  overawes 
my  soul,  and  brings  it  down  to  a  peaceful  and  dutiful  ac- 
quiescence in  his  good  pleasure;  peaceful  to  myself,  duti- 
ful toM'ards  him.  Let  him  do  what  seems  him  good.  Since 
it  is  his  pleasure  that  I  should  wait  so  long,  before  I  shall 
become  a  blessed  creature,  I  shall  admire  and  praise  him, 
that  I  hope  I  shall  be  so  at  last :  but,  with  profound  sub- 
mission unto  his  purpose  and  determination  herein,  wait, 
till  he  .shall  think  fit  to  fulfil  this  good  pleasure  of  his 
goodness  towards  me,  in  accomplishing  my  desires,  and  in 
answering  my  expectations  fully  at  la,st ;  when  I  shall  be 
brought  into  that  state  where  is  fulness  of  joy,  and  be 
placed  at  thy  right  band,  O  Lord,  where  are  rivers  of 


OF  FUTURE  BLESSEDNESS. 


295 


pleasure  for  evermore  I  The  thing  is  wholly  from  him, 
and  it  is  fit  the  time  should  be  also.  And  now,  as  true 
patience  hath  belonging  to  it  what  is  so  special,  viz.  a 
respect  to  God,  which  we  understand  to  be  casual  of  it,  in 
its  proper  kind;  so  we  may  give  a  further  short  account  of 
ii,  considering  it — 2dly,  In  its  peculiar  effect ;  (or,  as  it  is 
called,  James  i.  4.)  the  work  of  patience,  viz.  that  it  gives 
a  man  a  mastery  and  conquest  over  all  undue  and 
disorderly  passions.  It  fixes  the  soul  in  a  composed 
serenity,  creates  it  a  region  of  sedate  and  peaceful  rest ; 
infers  into  it  a  silent  calm;  allays  or  prevents  all  turbu- 
lent agitations ;  excludes  whatsoever  of  noisy  clamour; 
permits  no  tumults,  no  storm  or  tempest  within ;  whatso- 
ever of  that  kind,  in  this  our  expecting  state,  may  beset  a 
man  from  without.  And  this  most  connatural  effect  of  pa- 
tience, we  see  how  most  aptly  it  is  expressed  by  our  Sa- 
viour, (Luke  xxi.  19.)  In  your  patience  possess  ye  your 
souls,  q.  d.  it  is  patience  that  must  give  a  man  the  domi- 
num  sui ;  and  keep  him,  under  God,  in  his  own  power. 
He  intimates,  if  you  have  not  patience,  you  are  outed  of 
yourselves  ;  you  are  no  longer  masters  of  your  own 
souls,  can  have  no  enjoyment  of  yourselves,  and  there- 
fore are  much  less  to  expect  a  satisfying  enjoyment  of  him. 

Thetemper  of  spirit  it  introduces,  in  oppo.sition  to  angry 
and  querulous  repinings,  is  a  pitiful  silence.  I  was 
dumb,  and  opened  not  my  mouth,  because  thou  didst  it, 
Psal.  xxxix.  'J.  In  opposition  to  fear,  it  is  fortitude.  Wait 
on  the  Lord;  be  of  good  courage,  and  he  shall  strengthen 
thine  heart;  wait,  I  say,  on  the  Lord,  Psal.  xxvii.  14.  In 
opposition  to  a  despairing  dejection  of  mind,  confidence ; 
as  in  this  context.  Cast  not  away  your  confidence,  you 
have  need  of  patience.  In  opposition  to  immoderate  sor- 
row, for  your  deferred  felicity,  complacency.  Strength- 
ened with  all  might,  according  to  his  glorious  power,  unto 
all  patience  and  long-suffering,  with  joyfulness;  giving 
thanks  to  the  Father,  who  hath  made  us  meet  to  be  parta- 
kers of  the  inheritance  of  the  saints  in  light,  (Col  i.  11, 
12.)  q.  d.  O  blessed  be  God  for  our  prospect !  and  that  we 
have  a  firm  ground  whereupon  to  live,  rejoicing  in  hope 
of  the  glory  of  God,  Rom.  v.  2.  It  is  that  by  which,  with 
this  composure  of  soul,  we  expect,  and  are  still  looking 
for,  the  blessed  hope,  and  the  glorious  appearing  of  the 
great  God,  and  our  Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  (Titus  ii.  13.) 
knowing,  that  to  them  who  look  for  him,  he  shall  appear 
the  second  time,  without  sin  unto  salvation, (Heb.  ix.  28.)  for 
then  it  is  that  our  blessedness  is  complete,  when  he  shall  ap- 
pear a  second  time.  Then  all  those  many  things  concur, 
that  are  requisite  to  the  making  the  work  of  our  salvation 
most  perfect  and  consummate  work.  And  patience  is  to 
have  its  perfect  work,  in  commensuration  thereto.  But 
while  we  are  present  in  these  earthly  bodies,  we  are  ab- 
sent from  the  Lord;  and  many  things  are  wanting  to  the 
happiness  we  expect.  This  is  the  patience  we  are  to  ex- 
ercise in  the  meantime.  We  may  thus  shortly  sum  up  the 
matter,  viz.  that  in  reference  to  the  delay  of  the  blessed- 
ness we  expect — 1.  We  ought  not  to  be  without  sense,  as 
if  it  were  no  grievance,  which  were  stupidity,  and  not  pa- 
tience ;  and — 2.  That  we  ought  not  to  have  an  excessive 
sense  of  it,  which  were  mere  peevishness  and  impatience. 
Therefore  having  given  this  account  what  this  patience, 
considered  in  this  exercise,  imports;  I  come, 

2.  To  show  the  necessity  of  it,  in  a  serious  and  thorough 
Christian,  from  the  consideration  of — the  principles,  from 
whence  this  necessity  arises,  and — the  ends,  which  it  is 
necessary  unto.  It  must,  indeed,  be  acknowledged,  that 
the  form  of  speech  here  used  in  the  Greek,  ■xphai'  e^en', 
doth  directly  lead  us  to  consider  the  latter  of  these,  useful- 
ness to  such  or  such  purposes,  rather  than  the  intrinsical 
necessity  of  a  thing  in  itself  But  it  cannot  be  denied, 
that,  to  make  a  man  a  complete  Christian,  must  be  taken 
in,  as  a  primary  and  fundamental  part,  the  use  of  patience, 
subservient  to  all  the  re.st.  And  we  find  it  recommended 
upon  this  account,  (James  i.  4.)  Let  patience  have  its  per- 
fect work,  that  ye  may  be  perfect,  and  entire,  lacking  no- 
thing. Therefore,  what  shows  its  necessitv,  as  belonging 
to  the  inward  frame  and  constitution  of  a  Christian,  can- 
not be  irrelative  to  our  purpose. 

And  this  appears  from  its  intimate  connexion  with  se- 
veral things,  that  most  confessedly  belong,  as  principles,  to 
the  most  inward  frame  and  constitution  of  a  Christian. 


The  principles  we  shall  here  refer  to,  are  either  subordi- 
nate, or  sovereig-n  and  supreme.  And  they  both  make  it 
necessary,  and  produce  it. 

1.  Those  that  are  subordinate,  concur  in  the  constitu- 
tion of  a  truly  Christian  frame,  and  thereDpon,both  make 
this  exercise  of  patience  necessary,  and  exi.stent ;  or  make 
way  for  it,  that  it  may  obtain,  and  take  place  with  them  in 
a  man's  soul.     They  are  such  as  these  : 

1.  raith  of  the  unseen  state.  That  faith,  which  in  this 
very  context,  the  beginning  of  the  next  chapter,  is  called 
the  substance  of  things  hoped  for,  and  the  evidence  of 
things  not  seen.  This  faith  of  a  Christian  tells  him,  God 
hath  made  report  to  me  of  the  glory  and  blessedness  of 
the  unseen  world ;  and  I  believe  it,  take  his  word,  rely 
upon  it.  I  do,  as  the  apostle  says,  hope  for  eternal  life, 
which  God,  that  cannot  lie,  hath  prcjmised,  Titus  i.  2. 
This  realizes  Ihe  things  themselves,  makes  them  that  are 
future  as  present.  It  serves  me  instead  of  eyes,  and  pre- 
sent sense.  They  are  things,  in  reference  whereto,  we 
must  walk  by  faith,  and  not  by  sight.  That  faith  makes 
a  supply  for  vision,  as  we  find  it  did,  in  reference  to  an 
unseen  Christ,  1  Pet.  i.  8.  One  great  part  of  the  expected 
blessedness  of  the  other  state  is  that  beatific  sight  of  him 
which  we  shall  have;  and  which  believed,  and  hoped  for, 
maintains  present  life  and  vigour  in  us  towards  him; 
though  we  have  not  had  the  privilege  of  seeing  him  in 
the  flesh  as  divers  had  in  time  past;  yet,  not  having  so 
seen,  we  love  him ;  and,  for  that  other  sight  of  him  in  glo- 
ly,  how  far  off  that  may  be,  in  time  to  come,  we  know 
not.  But  though  so  too  we  now,  or  as  yet,  see  him  not, 
believing,  we  rejoice,  with  jov  unspeakable,  and  full  of 
glory,  1  Pet.  i.  8.  If  I  do,  with  my  whole  heart  and  soul, 
believe  God,  telling  me  that  thus  it  shall  be,  this  faith  will 
operate  to  this  height,  a  glorious  joy  ;  much  more  to  this 
depth,  a  soul-composing  patience.  Therefore  are  these 
two,  faith  and  patience,  so  often  paired,  and  put  tosether 
in  Scripture ;  and  particularly,  with  reference  to  this  ex- 
pectation of  inheriting  the  promises,  Heb.  vi.  12.  And 
how  plainly  is  the  affinity  and  near  alliance  of  these  two 
signified,  (James  v.  7,  8.)  where  the  apostle  exhorting  to 
the  patience  of  expectants  saith,  Bepatieni,  brethren,  behold 
the  husbandman  waiteth, — be  you  also  patient, — subjoins 
the  proposal  of  the  great  object  of  their  faith,  the  coming 
of  the  Lord  draws  nigh.  It  is  the  faith  of  the  unseen 
state  (which  commences  to  the  whole  Christian  commu- 
nity, at  their  Lord's  coming)  that  makes  patience,  at  once, 
both  necessary  and  possible;  yea,  and  actual  too:  neces- 
sary, because  the  prospect  it  gives  is  so  glorious ;  possible, 
because  it  is  so  sure.  Upon  the  former  account,  without  pa- 
tience, the  delay  could  not  be  endured ;  upon  the  latter,  be- 
cause it  afibrds  continual  relief,  and  strength,  that  one  may 
be  capable  of  enduring,  and  actually  endure.  We  more 
easily  bear  the  delay  of  the  most  excellent  things,  where- 
of we  are  sure  at  last.  Out  of  the  very  eater  itself  comes 
forth  meat  and  sweetness. 

2.  Nor  shall  we  unfitly  add  hope  to  faith.  We  learn 
them  to  be  distinguishable,  finding  them  distinctly  men- 
tioned, as  two  of  that  great  triad  of  principles,  said  to 
abide,  1  Cor.  xiii.  13.  Nor  shall  he  at  a  loss  how  to  dis- 
tinguish them,  if  we  consider  faith,  as  more  directly  re- 
specting the  ground  upon  which  we  rest,  the  divine  testi- 
mony or  revelation ;  hope,  the  object  unto  which  we, 
thereupon,  reach  forward  in  desire  and  expectation.  And, 
as  we  see  how  this  latter  is  complicated  with  faith :  so  we 
may  see  how  it  connects  with  patience,  Rom.  viii.  24,  25. 
We  are  saved  by  hope ;  but  hope  that  is  seen  is  not  hope  ; 
for  what  a  man  seeth  why  doth  he  yet  hope  for  it.  But  if 
we  hope  for  that  which  we  see  not,  then  do  we,  with  pa- 
tience, wait  for  it. 

And  if  we  follow  the  thread  of  discourse  through  this 
context,  and  observe  how  it  begins ;  We  are  saved  hyfiope; 
and  how  it  terminates  in  patience :  it  is  obvious  to  collect, 
that  were  it  not  for  patience,  we  were  lost  !  And  may  so 
learn  how  further  to  understand  our  Saviour's  words, 
Luke  xxi.  19.  In  your  patience  possess  you  your  own 
souls;  viz.  as  possessing,  or  keeping,  stands  opposed  to 
losing.  They  that  cannot  endure  to  the  end,  cannot  be 
saved.  So  is  the  new  creature  composed  by  a  contexture 
of  principles,  to  be,  under  God,  a  self-preserving  thing 

3.  Love   is  another  great  constituent  of  the  Christian 


296 


OF  PATIENCE,  IN  EXPECTATION 


frame,  as  such,  that  makes  patience  necessary  ;  as  much 
patience  is  requisite  to  make  them  endure  one  another's 
absence,  who  are  very  cordial  lovers  of  one  another.  No- 
thing is  more  essential  in  the  constitution  of  a  sincere 
Christian,  than  divine  love:  it  is  the  very  heart  and  soul 
of  the  new  creature.  Love  desiring  after  God,  as  my  su- 
preme good ;  love  delighting  and  acquiescing  in  him  above 
all,  according  to  my  present  measureof  enjoyment  of  him; 
which  being  very  imperfect,  makes  my  patience  most  ab- 
solutely necessary,  till  it  can  be  perfect.  If  I  have  not  pa- 
tience, how  can  I  endure  the  absence  of  him,  whom  I  love 
better  than  myself"?  And  that  love  of  him  doth  connote, 
and  carry  along  with  it,  the  extinction  of  the  love  of  this 
present  world,  so  that  it  shall  not  longer  be  predominant; 
its  predominancy  being  inconsistent  with  the  love  of  God. 
Love  not  this  world — if  any  man  love  this  world,  the  love 
of  the  Father  is  not  in  him,  1  John  ii.  15.  Now  when  a 
soul  is  mortified  to  the  love  of  this  world,  it  is  not  hereby 
quite  stupified  ;  love  is  not  destroyed,  but  turned  to  ano- 
ther, and  its  more  proper  object ;  and  is  so  much  the  more 
intense  Godward,  by  how  much  the  more  it  is  drawn  and 
taken  off  from  all  inferior  things.  Thereupon  it  must  be 
so  much  the  more  grievous  to  be  kept  off  from  him ;  and 
that  grievance  cannot  be  borne  without  patience.  For 
that  which  aggrieves  is  the  absenceof  my  best  good,  which 
can  have  no  equivalent;  and  the  want  whereof  nothing 
can  supply,  or  fill  up  its  room.  God  cannot  be  loved  with- 
out" being  known ;  nor  can  he  be  known  to  be  God,  biU  as 
the  best  good.  Though  I  can  never  know  him  perfectly, 
yet  so  much  I  must  be  supposed  to  know  of  him,  that  he  is 
better  than  all  things  else ;  that  nothing  that  is  not  supe- 
rior in  goodness  to  all  things  besides,  even  infinitely  supe- 
rior, can  be  God ;  and  nothing  but  such  an  uncreated  good 
can  make  me  a  happy  creature.  And  what  patience  do  I 
need,  to  make  me  content  not  to  be  happy  1  But  he  were 
not  such  a  good,  goodness  itself,  if  he  could  impose  it  up- 
on me  to  choose  to  be  miserable,  or  never  to  be  happy. 
He  only  requires,  that  I  wait  awhile,  that  I  be  patient  of 
some  delay. 

And  hereupon,  if  my  love  be  such  as  it  ought,  it  doth 
not  only  make  patience  necessary,  but  facile  too.  It  cor- 
responds not  to  its  glorious  and  most  excellent  object,  if  it 
be  not  very  reverential  and  most  obsequious  love,  full  of 
duty  towards  him  on  whom  it  is  placed;  if  it  hath  not  in 
it  a  regard  to  the  blessed  God,  as  well  under  the  notion  of 
the  sovereign  Ruler,  as  the  sovereign  Good.  And  there- 
upon my  patience,  as  hath  been  said,  carrying  religion  in 
it,  t.  e.  a  dutiful  di.sposition  towards  God ;  the  same  princi- 
ple which  makes  it  necessary,  makes  it  practicable  also. 
When  he,  whose  devoted  servant  I  am,  hath  signified  to 
me  his  good  pleasure,  viz.  he  finally  intends  me  to  able.s.s- 
ed  state  ;  but  that  in  the  state,  wherein  I  now  am,  he  hath 
present  service  for  me  to  do ;  or  that  he  sees  it  requisite 
before  he  translates  me  out  of  this  state,  further  to  prepare 
me  for  abetter;  and  requires,  in  the  meantime,  I  seek  ho- 
nour, glory,  and  immortality,  by  a  patient  continuance  in 
well-doing  :  my  love  to  him  itself,  which  makes  it  to  ap- 
pear necessary,  makes  it  also  appear  to  me  the  most  rea- 
sonable thing  in  all  the  world ;  and  that  my  heart  say 
within  me,  even  from  the  power  and  spirit  of  Divine  love, 
when  he  imposes  this  expectation,  though  tedious,  and 
when  he  inflicts  any  thing  grievous,  I  was  dumb,  O  Lord, 
and  opened  not  my  mouth,  because  thou  didst  it,  (Psal. 
xxxix.  8.)  though  I  could  not  have  taken  it  from  another. 
We  further  add,  not  as  a  single,  but  most  comprehensive 
principle, 

4.  Holiness,  which  impressed  upon  the  soul,  suits  it  un- 
to the  heavenly  slate,  and  so  makes  it  covet  it  more  ear- 
nestly. All  things  naturally  tend  to  the  perfection  of  that 
state,  unto  which  they  are  predisposed,  which  is  more  con- 
generous to  them,  or  whereto  they  have  an  agreement  in 
their  natures.  It  is  so  in  the  new  nature,  as  well  as  that 
which  is  common  toother  creatures.  All  things  naturally 
tend  to  their  like.  It  cannot  be  less  thus  with  the  new 
creature,  whose  nature  is  improved,  heightened,  and  per- 
fected beyond  that  of  other  creatures.  It  is  the  Divine  ho- 
liness impressed  upon  the  soul,  that  suits  it  unto  the  parti- 
cipation of  the  heavenly  inheritance.  None  ever  come  to 
heaven,  but  they  that  are  made  meet  to  partake  of  the 
inheritance  of  the  saints  in  light,  Col.  ii.  12.  They  that  are 


made  meet  for  heaven,  suited  in  the  temper  of  their  spirits 
to  it,  cannot  but  long  for  it,  and  do  therefore  need  patience, 
while  they  are  wailing.  It  is  indeed  but  that  to  which  they 
are  begotten.  Holiness  in  general  is  the  product  of  rege- 
neration. And  we  find,  that  in  1  Pet.  i.  3.  we  are  said  to  be 
begotten  unto  the  lively  hope.  Hope  must  be  taken  there  ob- 
jectively by  what  follows.  To  an  inheritance  incorruptible, 
and  undefiled,  and  that  fadeth  not  away,  reserved  in  heaven 
for  you,  ver.  4.  A  disposition  to  it  is  in  our  very  nata- 
litia :  we  are  begotten  lo  it  by  the  implantation  of  this  prin- 
ciple, of  the  new,  divine,  and  heavenly  birth.  Such  are 
born  for  that  country,  born  with  a  suitableness  to  that  in- 
heritance, therefore  cannot  but  have  earnest  longings  after 
it ;  and  therefore  cannot  but  need  patience,  that  they  may  en- 
dure the  delay.  And  that  also  connotes  and  carries 
with  it  these  two  things, — 1.  Hatred  of  the  opposite, 
and — 2.  A  tendency  unto  the  improvement  and  perfection 
of  itself. 

1.  Hatred  of  the  opposite,  sin.  And  this  makes  a  serious 
Christian  groan  :  I  have  a  body  of  death  hanging  about 
me.  I  cannot  get  rid  of  the  impurities  which  I  hate.  And 
because  the  very  habit  of  their  soul  is  now  so  far  changed, 
that  they  are  made  holy,  they  cannot  but  hate  the  contrary. 
You  that  love  the  Lord,  hate  evil ;  it  belongs  to  your  cha- 
racter to  do  so,  Psal.  xcvii.  10.  And  they  know,  that  they 
shall  never  be  quite  rid  of  it,  as  long  as  they  are  here. 
And  though  as  sin  is  an  evil  against  God,  it  is  not  to  be 
the  object  of  their  patience;  yet,  as  it  is  a  grievance  to 
themselves,  the  remainders  of  it  are,  so  far,  to  be  the  ob- 
ject about  which  their  patience  may  be  exercised,  that  they 
are  not  to  enter  into  any  quarrel,  that  he  doth  not  imme- 
diately made  them  perfect  in  the  very  first  moment  of  their 
conversion.  And  as  there  is  conjunct  with  this  frame  of 
holiness,  hatred  of  the  opposite,  so  there  is, 

2.  A  tendency  to  the  improving  and  heightening  itself: 
for  every  thing  naturally  affects  its  own  perfection,  or  the 
perfection  of  its  own  proper  kind.  As  nature,  in  every 
thing  that  grows,  aims  at  a  certain  pitch,  at  a  certain  u*^*; ; 
so  where  there  is  an  inchoate  holiness,  there  cannot  bu* 
be  a  tendency  unto  consummate  perfect  holiness.  The  pre- 
cept, therefore,  agrees  to  the  temper  of  their  mind,  to 
whom  it  is  given,  perfecting  holiness,  in  the  fear  of  God,  2 
Cor.  vii.  1.  This  is  having  the  law  written  in  our  heart, 
and  put  into  the  inward  part.  But  as  holiness  includes 
conformity  to  the  preceptive  will  of  God,  so  it  doth  to  his 
disposing  will,  being  made  known.  Therefore,  when  we 
understand  it  to  be  his  pleasure,  we  should  wait :  the  holy 
nature  itself,  which  prompts  us  so  earnestly  to  desire  the 
perfection  of  our  state,  must  also  incline  us  (it  were  other- 
wise made  up  of  contradictions)  patiently  to  expect  it,  our 
appointed  time.  Herein  we  are  to  be  subject  to  the  Father 
of  our  spirits  ;  as  to  the  fathersof  our  flesh,  when  they  shall 
think  fit  to  give  a  full  portion,  Heb.  xii.  9. 

2.  Besides  all  these  subordinate  principles,  we  are  to 
consider  the  co-operation  of  a  sovereign  and  supreme 
principle  with  them,  and  that  is  the  blessed  spirit  of  God 
himself.  He  begets,  raises,  and  cherisheth  such  desires 
after  the  blessedness  of  the  heavenly  state,  as  makes  this 
patience  most  absolutely  necessary.  You  find  in  2  Cor.  v.  4. 
where  the  apostle  is  speaking  of  his  earnest  aspiring,  and 
groaning,  not  tobe  unclothed  of  this  flesh,  this  earthly  taber- 
nacle; but  tobe  clothed  upon,  q.  d.  To  be  unclothed,  is  too 
low  and  mean  a  thing  ;  hereby  I  only  avoid  the  troubles  of 
life.  This  can  by  no  means  terminate  desires  of  so  high  a 
kind,  and  of  so  divine  and  heavenly  an  original.  These  were 
only  the  desires  of  a  brute,  oppressed  by  a  sensible,  too 
heavy  burthen.  But  the  thing  I  aspire  to,  and  groan  after, 
is  to  be  clothed  upon.  'Tis  somewhat  positive,  and  much 
higher,  viz.  the  perfection  of  that  state  I  am  designed  to, 
and  by  grace  made  capable  of,  wherein  mortality  is  to  be 
swallowed  up  of  life.  These  are  desires  proceeding  not 
from  the  sense  of  what  we  feel,  but  from  the  attraction  of 
what  we  see  ;  and  not  from  a  brutal,  but  a  divine  nature. 
So  he  next  tells  us,  ver.  5,  whence  they  were.  Now  he 
that  hath  wrought  us  for  this  self  same  thing  is  God,  who 
also  hath  given  unto  us  the  earnest  of  the  Spirit.  It  is  the 
Spirit  of  God  working  in  us,  that  makes  us  thus  restlessly 
aspire  and  groan.  He  that  hath  wrought  us  for  this  self- 
same thing  is  God.  It  is  more  than  if  it  had  been  barely 
said,  God  hath  wrought  us  for  this  selfsame  thing.  So  he 


OF  FUTURE  BLESSEDNESS. 


297 


might  express  a  work  common  to  him  with  other  agents; 
as  if  it  had  been  said,  He  hath  wrought  us  for  this  self- 
same thing,  and  so  might  another.  But  Ae  that  hath 
wrought  us  for  this  self-same  thing  is  God.  This  is  a  far 
more  emjihatica)  way  of  speaking,  i.  e.  it  doth  assert  Deity 
to  him  that  doth  this  work,  q.  d.  "None  but  God  could  do 
such  a  thing."  Therefore  observe  the  form  of  expression 
here  used,  that  we  lose  not  the  emphasis  of  it.  The  act — 
working  us  for  the  same  thing — is  not  affirmed  of  God,  as 
it  would  in  this  form, — God  hath  wrought  us. — But  being 
God,  or  Godhead,  is  affirmed  of  the  agent,  q.  d.  he  cannot 
but  be  a  God,  that  doth  work  this  upon  us.  The  other 
way  of  expression  would  serve  to  represent  an  action  that 
were  common,  indefinitely,  to  one  or  another  agent ;  as  if 
we  say,  "  The  king  walks,  speaks,"  &c.  but  to  express  an 
act  peculiar  to  majesty,  we  would  say,  "  He  that  reigns  is 
'he  king."  This  expression,  then,  doth  not  only  ascribe 
nut  appropriate  the  work  done  to  God.  What  1  that  moles, 
such  dunghill  worms,  should  thus  aspire!  He  is  a  God 
that  hath  done  this !  For  that  such  a  work  should  be  done 
upon  such  creatures!  to  mould  them  into  such  a  frame, 
that  now  nothing  terrestrial,  nothing  temporary,  nothing 
wiihin  the  region  of  mortality,  will  satisfy;  but  they  are 
restless  for  that  state,  wherein  mortality  shall  be  swallow- 
ed up  of  life.  He  that  hath  wrought  us  for  this  self-same 
thing  is  God.     This  is  the  work  of  a  Deity. 

Therefore  also,  are  so  solemn  thanksgivings  tendered  to 
the  Father,  for  his  having  made  us  meet  to  be  partakers 
of  the  inheritance  of  the  saints  in  light,  (Col.  i.  12.)  which 
he  doth  not  only  by  bringing  life  and  immortality  to  light 
in  the  gospel,  (I  Tim.  ii.  10.)  but  by  giving  the  Spirit  of 
wisdom  and  revelation — by  enlightening  the  eyes  of  our 
understanding,  that  we  may  know  the  hope  of  our  calling. 
(Eph.  i.  17,  18.)  shining  into  our  souls  with  such  a  vivific, 
penetrative,  and  transforming  light,  as  should  change  their 
whole  frame,  and  fully  attemper  them  thereto.  Now  if  it 
be  a  divine  power  that  hath  excited  such  desires,  and  given 
such  a  disposition ;  it  must  be  a  divine  power  that  must 
moderate  them  too;  by  giving  also  that  patience,  that  shall 
enable  us  to  wait  for  the  fulfilling  of  them.  And  the  ra- 
ther doth  there  need  the  interposition  of  a  God  in  the  case, 
to  make  us  endure  and  patiently  expect  the  state  he  hath 
wrought  us  for,  inasmuch  as  the  same  Spirit  that  frames 
us  for  that  state  (as  we  see  recurring  to  the  place  before 
mentioned)  doth  assure  us  of  it;  who  hath  given  us  the 
earnest  of  the  Spirit.  His  Spirit,  working  in  us.  not  only 
gives  us  a  clear  signification  of  the  truth  of  the  thing,  but 
of  our  title  ;  and  therefore  makes  us  so  earnestly  aspire, 
and  groan  for  it.  Wherefore  patience  cannot  but  be  the 
more  necessary;  and  (the  whole  being  entirely  his  work, 
who  doth  no  inconsistent  things)  the  easier  too.  And  so 
we  find  in  Rom.  viii.  23,  24.  where  it  is  said.  That  they 
that  have  received  the  first-fruits  of  the  Spirit,  do  groan 
within  themselves ;  they  have  the  same  aspirings  that  this 
apostle  here  speaks  of,  they  groan  earnestly  within  them- 
selves, waiting  for  the  adoption,  the  redemption  of  their 
body.  The  adoption ;  that  is  an  allusion  unto  a  known 
usage  among  the  Romans,  to  whom  the  apostle  here  writes ; 
and  therefore  they  were  the  more  capable  of  understanding 
it.  There  was  anjong  them  a  twofold  adoption  : — 1.  Pri- 
vate ;  when  such  a  patron  did  design  to  adopt  such  a  one 
for  his  son,  and  express  his  purpose  to  such  as  were  con- 
cerned, as  he  judged  it  convenient ;  which  was  but  to  in- 
choate adoption  : — 2.  Public  ;  when  the  action  was  solemn, 
in  fore,  and  enrolled,  a  register  kept  of  it.  And  this  was 
the  adoption  the  apostle  here  alludes  to;  the  manifestation 
of  the  sons  of  God,  as  ver.  If),  of  this  chapter.  Whereto 
agrees  the  expression  of  another  apostle,  Yet  it  doth  not 
appear  what  we  shall  be ;  but  when  he  shall  appear,  we 
shall  be  like  him,  1  John  iii.  2.  When  the  sons  of  God 
are  to  be  manifested,  they  shall  appear  like  themselves, 
and  like  their  Father.  This  is  their  public  solemn  adop- 
tion, when  before  men  and  angels  they  are  declared  sons 
of  God.  And  this  is  that  we  groan  for,  says  the  apostle, 
having  received  the  first-fruits  of  the  Spirit.  We  groan 
for  this,  the  perfection  of  our  state  ;  and  thereupon  would 
accordingly  enter  upon  the  inheritance,  being  a.-isured  that 
all  his  chilclren  are  heirs,  heirs  of  God,  and  joint-heirs  with 
Christ  (as  before  in  the  same  chapter,  ver.  17)  But  now, 
whereas,  from  these  passages,  He  that  wrought  us  for  the 


self-same  thing  is  God;  that  it  is  he  that  made  us  meet  for 
this  inheritance;  that  the  first-fruits  of  tiis  Spirit  made  us 
groan  for  it ;  we  collect,  that  it  is  divine  power  which  gives 
this  aptitude  and  inclination,  and  limits  it.  What  is  it, 
that  doth  so  qualify  divine  power,  but  divine  power  1 

It  is,  indeed,  twj  plain,  that  the  influence  of  this  power 
received  into  such  a  subject,  a  mind  in  too  great  part  yet 
carnalized,  and  situated  amidst  a  sensible  templing  woiid, 
meets  with  sufficient  allays,  and  enough  to  obstruct  its 
tendencies  towards  an  object  )-et  out  of  sight.  But  all  this 
obstruction,  such  a  power  can  easily  overcome.  There- 
fore we  are  equally  to  admire  the  wisdom  of  God,  as  his 
power  ;  nor  as  simply  omnipotent,  though  it  be  so ;  but  as 
having  its  place  and  exercise  in  the  most  perfect  Divine 
nature,  in  which  all  excellencies  meet;  and  which  there- 
fore is  not  exerted  ad  idtivium,  so  as  to  do  all  that  almighty 
power  can  do,  but  what  is  convenient  and  fit  to  be  done ; 
that  can  moderate  it.self,  can  move  forward,  and  sistere  se, 
stop  its  motion  at  pleasure,  so  as  to  provide  that  desire  and 
patience  may,  in  our  present  state,  consist ;  and  that  whilst 
God  hath  work  for  us  to  do,  and  a  station  to  fill  up  in  this 
present  world,  wc  may  not  be  weary  of  life  ;  or  by  the  ex- 
pectation of  blessedness  in  the  other  world,  be  made  im- 
patient of  serving  his  purposes  here,  as  long  as  it  is  his 
pleasure  to  continue  us  in  this.  So  doth  he  all  things,  ac- 
cording to  the  coun.sel  of  his  will !  Thus  from  the  prin- 
ciples whence  patience  proceeds,  you  may  collect  how 
absolutely  necessar}^  it  is. 

2.  You  may  collect  it  too,  from  the  ends  which  it  serves. 
And  I  shall  mention  but  these  two,  which  are  in  the  text: 
that  which  is  nearer  and  more  immediate — our  doing  the 
will  of  God  ; — remoter,  and  ultimate — our  inheriting  the 
promise. 

1.  This  nearer  end  is  manifestly  supposed  to  be  so ;  and 
withal,  that  patience  is  necessary  thereto.  For  when  we 
are  told,  "  Ye  have  need  of  patience,  that  when  ye  have 
done  the  will  of  God,"  it  is  plainly  signified,  patience  con- 
duces to  our  doing:  God's  will ;  and  that  without  patience 
we  cannot  do  it.  Not  that  patience  is  the  proper  principle 
of  doing  it,  but  active  vigour ;  yet  the  concomitancy  of 
patience  is  requisite  hereto;  not  directly,  in  respect  to  the 
thing  to  be  done;  but  the  time  through  which  the  doin?  of 
it  must  be  continued,  and  the  expectation  which,  as  ha'h 
been  said,  is  complicated  therewith.  To  the  former,  vigor- 
ous activity,  a  promptitude  and  suitableness  of  mind  and 
spirit  to  the  Divine  will,  even  a  love  of  holiness,  whereof 
that  will  revealed  is  the  measure,  must  be  reckoned  the 
genuine,  requisite  principle  ;  as  patience  is  to  the  latter. 
Therefore  do  we  find  labour  ascribed  to  love,  and  patience 
to  hope,  1  Thess.  i.  3.  !f  v:t  have  run  Tvell ;  and  :'. ::.  ±z 
will  of  God  we  shall  lengthen  out  our  course  by  a  patient 
continuance  in  well-doing;  and  not  express  only  a  present 
agility,  but  patience  in  running  the  race;  without  this  we 
do  not  the  will  of  God. 

2.  But  we  are  more  largely  to  insist  on  the  remoter  and 
more  ultimate  end — that  we  may  inherit  that  promise— 
which  we  see  is  represented,  as  the  end  of  that  former 
end :  and  patience  made  necessary  to  the  latter,  as  it  is  ne- 
cessary to  the  former.  And  can  we  in  good  earnest  think 
of  inheriting  the  promise,  which  is  all  of  grace,  whether 
God  will  or  nol  And,  if  he  will  the  end,  doth  it  not  equally 
belons:  to  him  to  will  the  way  and  method  of  our  attaining 
ill  To  he  here  somewhat  particular.  Two  things,  we  may 
conclude,  God  doth  ordinarilv  will  concerning  the  wav, 
wherein  he  conduc's,  and  leads  on  those  that  peculiarly 
belong  to  him,  to  the  blessed  end,  and  consummate  state  he 
designs  them  to.  the  one  whereof  is  also  requisite  to  the 
other,  viz. — 1.  Their  gradual  growth  and  improvement  in 
holine.'^s,  and  all  dutiful  dispositions  towards  him,  till  they 
come  nearer  to  maturity  for  glory,  and  a  meekness  for  the 
heavenly  state :  and — 2.  Their  maintaining  an  intercourse 
with  himself,  in  order  hereto. — These  things  he  wills  us  to 
design  through  our  whole  course,  though  te  is  at  liberty 
to  shorten  or  lengthen  our  course,  as  to  him  seems  meet. 

1.  Our  own  gradual  improvement.  Hereto  such  pa- 
tience is  necessary  ;  for  perpetual  fretting  must  naturally 
hinder  our  growth.  Let  patience  have  its  perfect  work, 
that  ye  may  be  perfect,  James  i.  4.  It  cannot  have  its  per- 
fect work,  if  it  have  not  its  work  and  exercise  this  way,  as 
well  as  others ;  that  ye  may  be  perfect,  and  entire,  wanting 


SOS 


OF  PATIENCE,  IN  EXPECTATION 


nothing.  If  you  have  not  patience,  that  you  can  endure 
such  a  delay,  you  will  never  grow,  will  be  always  starve- 
lings. Do  we  not  observe  the  method,  wherein  the  Divine 
wisdom  brings  all  things  to  their  d-c,if),  or  perfect  state '? 
vegetables'?  sensitive  creatures'?  in  the  several  kinds  of 
bofh'?  Do  we  not  observe  it  in  ourselves"?  and  in  our  chil- 
dren 1  whom  (as  the  comedian)  we  should  most  absurdly 
expect  to  be  born  old  men.  And  as  to  our  spiritual  states, 
after  conversion,  or  regeneration,  what  are  the  gifts  vouch- 
safed by  our  glorified  Lord  meant  for,  but  our  growth  to  a 
perfect  man"?  Conversion,  'tis  true,  till  work  of  that  kind 
be  all  over,  perfects  the  whole  body ;  but  the  increase  of 
knowledge,  and  grace,  perfects  each  particular  member 
or  part. 

And,  besides  the  improvement  of  habitual  principles, 
there  is  a  fulness  of  actual  duty  and  service,  to  be  to  our 
utmost  endeavoured,  that  we  may  stand  complete,  and  per- 
fect in  all  the  will  of  God,  Col.  iv.  12.  Every  one  hath 
his  pensu7?i,  his  allotment  of  work  and  time  assigned  him 
in  this  world,  though  some  come  not  into  the  vineyard  till 
the  eleventh  hour.  What  a  sharp  reproach  is  that,  (Rev. 
iii.  2.)  I  have  not  found  thy  works  filled  up !— How  glori- 
ous a  character  is  that  of  the  man  after  God's  own  heart, 
that  after  he  had — by  the  will  of  God — served  his  genera- 
tion, run  through  the  course  of  service,  which  the  Divine 
will  had  measured  out  to  him  for  his  own  age  wherein  he 
lived,  he  at  length  so  seasonably  fell  asleep ;  was  gathered 
to  his  fathers,  as  a  shock  of  corn  fully  ripe.  This  is  the 
state  of  growth  and  service ;  the  other,  the  state  of  perfec- 
tion and  retribution.  And  to  improvement  and  progress, 
patience  is  necessary,  not  only  as  being  itself  a  part  of  our 
duty,  the  want  whereof,  therefore,  must  infer  a  maim;  but 
as,  also,  it  hath  influence  upon  all  other  garts,  and  without 
which,  therefore,  there  would  be  a  universal  languor  and 
debility  upon  the  whole  new  man ;  which  is  evident  from 
what  is  to  be  added.  'Tis  through  the  Lord  alone  we  are  to 
make  mention  of  his  name,  Isa.  xxvi.  13.  Without  him 
we  can  do  nothing,  (John  xv.  5.)  neither  grow,  nor  serve. 
Therefore  further  is  our  patience  necessary, 

2.  That  so  our  communion  and  intercourse  with  God 
here,  according  as  in  our  present  state  we  are  capable,  may 
be  continued,  and  his  communications  to  us  therein,  which 
we  daily  need,  may  not  be  obstructed.  Herein  lies  the 
very  life  of  our  spirits,  a  continued  intercourse  between 
God  and  us.  But  of  this,  without  such  patience,  we  shall 
be  incapable.  See  how  the  apostle  argues,  (Heb.  xii.  9.) 
The  fathers  of  your  flesh  chastised  you,  and  you  gave  them 
reverence  ;  how  inuch  more  shall  we  not  be  subject  to  the 
Father  of  our  spirits  and  live '?  Shall  we  not  be  subject 
IG  the  F"thsr  of  cur  spiri'.s?  W'^  Jiitis^t  reiTieoiber,  that  he, 
whom  the  apostle  here  calls  by  a  more  general  title,  the 
Father  of  spirits,  doth  elsewhere  vouchsafe  to  be  styled 
(Numb,  xxvii.  16.)  the  God  of  the  spirits  of  all  flesh.  A 
most  condescending  expression !  That  he,  who  hath  so 
innumerable  myriads  of  spirits,  whose  dwelling  is  not 
with  flesh,  replenishing  the  spacious  realms  and  regions 
of  light  and  bliss  above,  should  also  not  disdain  to  own  a 
relation  to  this  inferior  sort  of  spirits,  that  are  so  meanly 
lodged,  even  in  frail  and  mortal  flesh ;  and  to  express  a  con- 
cern about  them,  that  somewhat  of  tolerable  order  might 
be  preserved  among  them,  in  their  low  and  abject  state; 
and  therefore  allow  himself  to  be  called  the  God  of  such 
spirits !  This  is  admirable  vouchsafement.  And,  because 
he  is  (in  this  other  place)  generally  called  the  Father  of 
spirits,  comprehending  these  with  the  rest ;  upon  both  ac- 
counts, it  belongs  to  him  by  prerogative,  to  determine  what 
spirits  shall  dwell  in  flesh,  and  what  shall  not ;  how  long 
any  such  spirits  shall  dwell  in  flesh,  and  when  they  shall  be 
removed,  and  taken  out  of  this  fleshly  state.  And  observe 
what  follows,  "shall  we  not  be  subject  to  the  Father  of 
spirits,  and  live'?"  The  impatient  will  contend;  they  that 
cannot  bear  delay  will  quarrel,  and  that  will  be  deadly  to 
Ihem.  If  we  be  not  subject,  we  cannot  live.  He  is  the  uni- 
versal Father  of  spirits;  all  spirits  are  his  offspring.  And 
shall  not  he  determine  concerning  the  spirits  he  hath  made, 
which  shall,  and  how  long  they  shall,  inhabit  flesh ;  as  well 
the  time,  as  the  thing  itself;  or  who  shall,  and  who  shall 
not  1  It  is  his  pleasure,  that  my  spirit  should  so  long  ani- 
mate and  inhabit  such  a  piece  of  clay;  if  I  am  not  subject 
to  him,  I  shall  not  live.  This  is  severely  monitory !  and  ex- 


tends far.  It  admonishes  me  of  danger,  as  to  my  final  state. 
For  what  is  here  said,  hath  reference  to  what  is  after  said 
of  the  future  vision  of  God  ;  and  our  association  to  the  in- 
numerable compan}'  of  angels,  and  the  spirits  of  just  men 
made  perfect ;  whereof  want  of  the  patience  prescribed, 
(ver.  1.)  through  all  the  whole  race  set  before  us,  hazards 
our  falling  short.  But  how  are  we,  by  impatience,  endan- 
gered, as  to  our  final  and  eternal  state  of  life !  'Tis  inti- 
mated, that  without  being  patient,  and  subject,  we  cannot 
live  now.  Intercourse  will  be  broken  off  between  him  and 
us;  he  will  retire,  and  withhold  his  influence:  and  if  he 
do  so,  and  we  pine  away  in  our  sins,  how  shall  we  then 
live  1  (as  their  misgiving  hearts  presage,  Ezek.  xxxiii.  10.) 

But  if  spiritual  life  already  fail,  which  is  of  the  same 
kind  with  blessed  eternal  life,  and  is  therein  perfected, 
what  shall  become  of  that  life  itself,  which  is  but  the  per- 
fection of  the  other"?  If  we  cannot  live  now,  how  shall  we 
live  eternally  "?  If  not  a  day,  how  for  ever  1  'Tis  true,  we 
are  kept  by  the  power  of  God ;  but  it  is,  through  faith, 
vmto  salvation,  (1  Pet.  i.  5.)  and  faith  is  necessary  to  sup- 
port our  patience,  as  hath  been  noted.  This  our  Saviour 
prayed  for  to  Peter,  that  amidst  all  his  winnowings,  his 
faith  might  not  fail.  And  all  this  with  this  final  reference, 
that  we  might  be  followers  of  them,  who,  through  faith 
and  patience,  have  inherited  the  promises,  (Heb.  vi.  12.) 
which  plainly  shows  what  is  God's  ordinary  method  of 
bringing  his  own,  at  last,  to  that  inheritance.  And  this,  in 
the  context,  which  we  were  last  considering,  (Heb.  xii.)  is 
copiously  illustrated  by  the  method  observed  in  families ; 
wherein  a  prudent  father  considers  how  long  it  is  fit  a  son 
should  be  under  discipline,  whereof,  while  he  is  patient,  he 
is  under  paternal  care,  and  enjoys  the  provisions  of  the 
family ;  but,  if  he  will  not  be  subject,  how  shall  he  live "? 
This  prudent  conduct  is  not  always  observed  by  the  fathers 
of  our  flesh.  They  use,  sometimes,  harsh  severities,  more 
for  their  own  pleasure,  and  to  gratify  their  own  passion, 
than  the  child's  profit.  But  with  the  Father  of  spirits  no 
rash  passions  can  have  place.  He  only  designs  our  profit, 
and  improvement,  in  the  highest  and  most  excellent  kind, 
i.  e.  to  make  us  partakers  of  his  holiness ;  to  make  us  more 
and  more  God-like,  and  fit,  at  length,  to  be  admitted  into 
the  presence  of  his  glory.  And  whereas  the  mere  defer- 
ring of  our  expected  felicity  is  some  chastisement  and  re- 
buke upon  us,  for  our  yet-continuing  impurities  and  dis- 
orders; there  are  also  other  afflictions  that  befall  us  in  this 
our  expecting  state,  which,  though  they  proceed  from  this 
world's  hatred,  may  proceed  from  the  love  of  God,  and  are 
meant  to  work  out  for  us  greater  glory,  (2  Cor.  iv.  17.)  as 
now  they  tend  to  make  us  partakers,  in  a  greater  measure, 
of  his  holiness;  which,  as  it  is  his  glory,  will  be  ours;  and 
by  his  influence,  a  peaceful  fruit  of  righteousness  accrues 
to  us,  and  grows  up  in  us,  upon  which  we  are  to  feed  and 
live.  Now  what  conversation  can  there  be  between  a  fa- 
ther in  a  family,  and  a  son  in  minority  and  under  disci- 
pline, but  by  wise  and  tender  care  on  the  part  of  the  former, 
and  the  dutiful  submission  of  the  latter'?  Or  can  the  son 
hope  the  sooner  to  come  by  his  inheritance,  by  wayward 
and  contentious  behaviour  towards  such  a  father  1  So  that 
both  from  the  principles  whence  such  patience  proceeds, 
and  the  e7ids  which  it  serves,  we  may  collect  the  necessity 
of  it  unto  every  serious  Christian. 

And  now  how  copious  use  might  we  make  of  so  impor- 
tant subject !  But  we  must  contract.  We  may  learn  from  it, 

1.  The  desperate  condition  of  those  wretched  creatures, 
that  are  of  terrene  minds,  whose  hearts,  by  habitual  and 
prevailing  inclination,  cleave  to  this  earth,  and  this  earthly 
state.  They  can  apprehend  no  need  of  patience,  in  ex- 
pecting the  blessedness  of  heaven.  It  is  no  grievance  to 
them  not  to  partake  therein.  They  had  rather  live  where 
they  are ;  are  better  pleased  with  their  present  state  of  life. 
Tell  them  of  patience  in  waiting  for  the  heavenly  felicity ! 
'Tis  language  they  understand  not !  Oh  the  wretched 
state  of  those  forlorn  souls,  whose  habitual  temper  makes 
them  incapable  of  the  exercise  or  need  of  this  patience ! 
It  may  be  said  indeed,  of  many  a  good  man,  that  he  doth 
not  covet  death,  (which,  for  itself,  no  man  can,)  but  it 
cannot  be  said  of  any  good  man,  that  he  doth  not  covet 
blessedness,  which,  in  a  general,  indeterminate  notion, 
every  man  covets.  But  there  is  no  truly  good  man,  none 
that  is  regenerate,  and  born  of  God,  who  doth  not  particu- 


OF  FUTURE  BLESSEDNESS. 


2oy 


larly  covet  that,  wherein  blessedness  truly  lies,  and  doth 
consist.  For  all  such  are  begotten  to  the  lively  hope — of 
the  undefiled  inheritance,  reserved  in  heaven  for  them, 
(1  Pet.  i.  3,  4.)  nor  can  be  supposed,  when  they  covet  bless- 
edness, not  to  covet  perfect  blessedness.  Such  may,  indeed, 
not  yet  covet  to  die  ;  because  yet  they  may  be  under  some 
doubt  concerning  their  present  state  God-ward.  And  so 
such  a  one  doth  not  know,  whether,  if  he  die,  he  shall 
enter  upon  a  blessed  state,  or  no.  But,  in  the  meantime, 
it  cannot  be  said  of  any  good  man,  that  he  doth  not  covet 
to  be  blessed  ;  though  tor  that  single  reason,  because  he 
doubts  of  his  title  io  the  heavenly  blessedness,  he  covets 
not  death.  Therefore  that  doubt  doth  not  extinguish  his 
desire  of  blessedness,  but  suspends  only  the  desire  of  death, 
as  an  uncertain  way  to  it ;  because  it  is  equally  the  en- 
trance to  a  state  of  misery,  to  them  who  have  no  title  to 
blessedness,  as  it  is  unto  a  blessed  state,  to  them  that  have 
a  title.  And  concerning  their  present  title,  they  are  still 
in  doubt ;  which  way  they  hope,  by  Divine  assistance,  if 
they  have  more  time,  may  yet  be  gained.  Whereas,  upon 
supposition  that  doubt  were  removed,  they  would  be  glad 
to  be  gone.  But  this  is  their  miserable  case,  whose  hearts 
cleave  to  this  earth,  that  they  prefer  it  before  all  the  bless- 
edness and  glory  of  heaven-,  and  rather  bless  themselves 
from  it,  than  desire  to  be  blessed  by  it.  If  they  can  but 
live  pleasantly,  and  as  long  as  they  would  do  here,  take 
heaven,  and  all  the  blessedness  and  glory  of  it,  that  will 
for  them  !  I  would  fain  have  you  apprehend  the  deplora- 
ble condition  of  such  men,  upon  sundry  accounts. 

1.  Their  temper  differs  from  that  of  all  the  children  of 
God;  they  are  quite  of  another  complexion  from  the 
whole  family  that  belongs  to  him.  For  all  that  are  the 
sons  of  God,  as  they  are  born  from  above,  (/ivajeti-,  John  iii. 
3.)  they  are  born  with  a  disposition  heavenward.  There- 
fore, if  such  a  man  could  but  view,  and  behold  himself,  he 
could  not  but  cry  out,  affrighted  and  amazed,  God  be  mer- 
ciful to  me  !  what  sort  of  creature  am  1 1  If  God  be  not 
merciful  to  me,  to  change  me,  his  mercy  can  never  own 
me  for  his  ;  I  am  quite  of  a  different  make  from  all  that 
ever  had  leave  to  call  him  Father!  They  all  love  heaven 
more  than  earth,  and  I  love  earth  more  than  heaven ! 
That  a  man's  own  temper  should  distinguish  him  from  all 
the  Divine  offspring !  Methinks  it  should  be  considered 
v/itli  dread  and  horror !  That  there  should  be  a  sort  of 
men  in  this  world,  that  are  all  lovers  of  God,  as  their  best 
good,  and  longing  to  be  at  home  with  him  in  the  heavenly 
state,  and  I  to  be  severed  from  them  all !  My  heart  being 
strange  to  him,  and  always  tending  downward!  This  is 
a  dismal  thing;  a  sad  reflection  to  any  one,  that  can,  and 
will  reflect ;  and  be  so  true  to  himself,  as  to  own  this  to  be 
his  sense,  "  I  had  rather  live  amidst  the  vanities  of  this 
world,  than  partake  in  the  glories  of  heaven !  I  had  rather 
please  my  flesh  and  sense  on  earth,  than  enjoy  the  felicity 
of  saints  and  angels  above!"  A  fearful  case  !  For  now 
you  have  nothing  to  do  with  this  character,  belonging  to 
holy  men,  of  standing  in  sensible  need  of  patience,  that 
you  may  inherit  the  promise!  nor, 

2.  Can  you  inherit.  For  as  all,  so  only,  God's  children 
are  his  heirs.  They  are  no  heirs  who  are  not  his  children. 
Cast  out  the  bondwoman  and  her  son ;  he  cannot  inherit 
with  the  son  of  the  promi,se.  The  children  of  Jerusalem 
above  are  free;  the  rest  are  slaves.  Can  it  be  thought 
worthy  of  God  to  have  bondmen,  and  slaves  to  vile  ter- 
rene affections,  for  his  sons'?  can  they  inherit  the  blessed- 
ness of  heaven,  that  never  loved,  desired,  or  chose  it;  that 
always  preferred  this  earth  before  it  ?  Can  any  be  brought 
to  heaven  violently,  whether  they  will  or  no  1  Whoever 
have  come  thither,  first  sought  it,  as  the  better  country. 
Therefore  God  was  not  ashamed  to  be  called  their  God, 
(Heb.  xi.  16.)  which  implies  he  would  be  ashamed  to  be 
called  the  God  of  an  earthly-minded  generation  of  men. 
And  will  he  ever  do  the  thing  that  he  would  be  ashamed 
of?  so  ignominious  a  thing  as  to  take  base  sons  of  the 
earth  into  his  kingdom  (who  may  all  say  in  regno  vMi  fu- 
vius,  we  are  horn  of  the  kingdom  we  belong  to)  for  his  chil- 
dren and  heirs  1 

3.  Notwithstanding  their  obstinate  inclination  and  ad- 
herence to  this  earth,  they  still  live  in  the  continual  fear  of 
being  removed  out  of  it,  viz.  if  they  bethink  themselves. 
And  what  .sort  of  felicity  is  that,  that  can  be  blasted  and 


extinguished  by  a  thought!  that  depends  cily  upon  a 
present  forgetfulness!  How  afflicting  a  mi-ery  lo  be 
united  in  affection  with  that,  as  my  best  good,  which  1 
continually  fear  to  lose,  and  to  have  rent  away  from  me ! 

4.  Such  addictedness  to  this  earth,  i.  e.  the  desire  of  a 
perpetual  abode  here;  which  is  the  complexion  of  all 
earthly-minded  men,  who  herein  never  limit  themselves; 
but  .should  they  live  here  never  so  many  ages,  they  would 
be  always  of  the  same  mind,  I  say,  their  earthly  propen- 
sion  is  liable  to  be  encountered  continually,  not  with  fear 
only,  but  despair;  and  is  therefore  most  vain,  irrational, 
absurd,  and  tormenting  to  themselves.  Vain,  for  it  contri- 
butes nothing  to  their  end.  Can  any  man's  adhesion  to 
this  earth,  be  it  never  so  peremptorj',  perpetuate,  or  pro- 
long his  abode  upon  it"?  Irrational,  for  what  is  there  in 
this  state  itself,  to  be  alleged  as  a  plausible  reason,  why 
one  should  desire  it  to  be  everlasting  1  Absurd,  for  it  is  to 
set  one's  heart  upon  a  known  impo.ssibility.  What  can  be 
more  ludicrous,  than  to  contend  with  necessity,  which  will 
at  last  be  too  hard  for  me "?  lo  cherish  a  desire  in  my  soul, 
wherein  I  know  I  must  at  length  be  disappointed'?  And 
it  cannot,  in  the  issue,  but  be  tormenting,  and  even  in  the 
foresight  of  it;  fear  afflicts,  but  despair  cannot  do  less 
than  torment.  How  amazing  is  the  forethought  of  being 
plucked  away  from  one's  dwelling-place  ;  rooted  out  from 
the  land  of  the  living!  (Psal.  lii.  5.)  An  immortal  spirit 
torn  out  of  mortal  flesh,  unto  which  'tis  now,  however,  so 
inwardly  connaturalized,  as  to  have  no  thought,  but  witli 
abhorrence,  of  any  other  state  or  dwelling!  That  one's 
soul  should  sit  trembling  on  the  lip,  and  muttering,  "  I  fain 
would  stay,  but  must  go,  and  leave  behind  me  whatsoever 
I  loved  best  !  and  not  only  quit  all  my  former  known  de- 
lights and  wonts,  but  pass  into  unknown  darkness  and 
woes  !"  Animula  vagula,  blandula,  <f«c.  (as  he  desperately) 
Omy  poor  wandering,  self-Jl altering  soul,  whit/ier  art  thou, 
going — into  what  dismal,  horrid  places,  where  thou  shall 
not  jest  as  thou  wast  wont ! 

That  a  man  should  thus  recount  with  himself;  I  have 
had  my  good  things  !  my  pleasant  days  are  all  over,  never 
to  return  more  !  And  now  must  I  finish  them  by  so  vio- 
lent a  death  !  Driven  away  (as  the  wicked  is  said  to  be) 
out  of  light  into  darkness,  and  chased  out  of  the  world, 
John  xviii.  5,  18.  How  calamitous  is  this  case !  And 
how  much  the  more,  that  it  scarce  leaves  room  for  a 
rational,  or  even  for  a  religious  pity.  For  we  read  in  the 
mentioned  Psal.  lii.  when  we  are  told,  ver.  5.  of  God's 
plucking  and  rooting  such  out  of  their  dwelling-place,  &c 
That  the  righteous  shall  see  and  fear,  and  laugh  at  them. 
At  once  they  reverence  God,  and  deride  them,  ver.  6. 
And  are  justified  herein  W  what  follows,  ver.  7.  Lo, 
this  is  the  man  that  made  not  God  his  strength,  but  trusted 
in  the  abundance  of  his  riches,  and  strengthened  himseli 
in  his  wickedness,  riz.  that  he  acted  so  foolish  a  part,  in 
so  plain  a  case ;  imagining,  that  wealth  and  wickedness, 
in  conjmiciion,  could  signify  more  than  all  the  mercy  and 
justice  of  a  Deity  \  And  did  therefore  that  ridiculous 
thing,  so  deservedl}'  to  be  laughed  at  by  all  that  are  wise 
and  just,  as  to  attempt  by  so  much  earth  to  fill  up  the  room 
of  God  '  That  a  reasonable  and  immortal  mind  should 
place  its  supreme  desire  np'^n  a  terrene  good,  from  which 
it  shortly  must  be  plucked  away,  against  the  stroiigest 
reluctance  !  Veneration  of  the  Divine  juviesis  orercomes 
comjiassion  in  this  ease.  Pity  towards  them  is  not  ex- 
tinguished, but  its  exercise  suspended  only,  by  religion 
towards  God. 

5.  This  temper  of  mind  (which  ought  to  signifv'  with 
professed  Christians)  hath  in  it  a  downright  repugnancy 
unto  whole  Christianity.  For  consider,  and  compare 
things.  Here  is  a  heart  cleaving  to  this  earth  :  but  did 
Christ  establish  his  religion  to  plant  men  in  the  earth  1 
Was  it  not  to  prepare  them  for  heaven,  and  then  translat-e 
them  thither'?  He  died,  the  just  for  the  unjust,  to  bring 
us  to  God,  1  Pet.  iii.  18.  And  he  hath  redeemed  us  to 
God  by  his  blood.  Rev.  v.  9.  And  to  deliver  us  from  this 
present  world,  Gal.  i.  4.  His  kingdom,  in  the  whole  con- 
stitution and  frame  of  it,  is  avowedl}'  not  of  this  world; 
but  terminates  upon  eternity,  and  an  everlasting  state. 
And,  therefore,  they  that  mind  earthly  things,  are  said  tc 
be  enemies  to  the  cross  of  Christ,  Phil.  iii.  18,  19.  Their 
whole  business  is  nothing  else  but  fighting  again?';  tilting 


300 


OF  PATIENCE,  IN  EXPECTATION 


at  the  cross!  i.  e.  counteracting  the  design  for  which 
Christ  was  crucified.  And  can  it  enter  into  the  imagina- 
tion of  any  man,  that  hath  not  forfeited  the  repute  of  an 
intelligent  creature,  or  quite  lost  his  understanding ;  or 
(if  he  retain  any  thing  of  reason)  that  hath  not  abandoned 
his  religion;  to  think,  that  the  Son  of  God  should  come 
down  from  heaven,  and  die  on  earth,  to  counteract  him- 
self, or  only  to  procure,  that  such  as  we  might  be  rich 
men,  be  in  friendship  with  this  world  and  enmity  with 
Qodi  here  live,  eat,  drink,  trade,  gather  wealth;  and 
forget  who  made  us,  and  redeemed  us  with  his  blood! 
Was  this  the  end  for  which  the  world  was  to  be  Christian- 
ized 1  and  Christianity  set  up  among  men  1  and  for  the 
founding  whereof,  the  Head  and  Author  of  this  profession 
died  upon  the  cross  1  What  an  insolent  absurdity  is  it  in 
such  as  call  themselves  Christians,  to  live  in  so  open,  con- 
'inual,  and  direct  opposition  to  the  very  end  for  which 
Christ  died. 

6.  And  in  the  mentioned  case,  their  very  frame  carries 
with  it  a  direct  opposition  and  contradiction  to  their  own 
profession,  i.  e.  supposing  they  live  under  the  gospel,  and 
profess  the  Christian  religion.  They  fight  not  only  against 
Christ,  even  dying,  but  themselves.  And  this  is  that 
which  the  apostle  considers  with  so  deep  sense,  and  ten- 
derness, in  that  mentioned,  Phil.  iii.  There  are  some,  of 
whom  I  have  told  you  often,  and  now  tell  you  weeping, 
they  are  enemies  to  the  cross  of  Christ — they  mind  earthly 
things.  But,  in  opposition  to  men  of  this  character,  he 
adds.  Our  conversation  is  in  heaven.  All  runs  into  this 
at  last,  they  that  are  Christians  indeed,  have  their  conver- 
sation in  heaven.  I  now  tell  you  of  these  earthly-minded 
ones,  even  weeping,  that  they  unchristian  themselves! 
What  compassion  doth  it  challenge !  to  see  men  baptized 
into  Christ's  death;  to  behold  immortal  spirits  united  with 
bodies  washed  with  pure  water,  therein  renouncing  this 
world,  and  all  its  pollutions,  yet  sunk  into  carnality ! 
buried  in  flesh !  where  they  should  but  dwell ;  living  under 
the  gospel,  where  life  and  immortality  are  brought  to  light, 
regardless  of  immortal  life  ;  afraid  to  die,  yet  void  of  any 
inclination  to  the  way  of  living  for  ever !  And  that  while 
they  pretend  to  it,  and  do  really  love  their  death,  which 
their  profession  obliges  them  to  shun,  and  dread !  (Prov. 
viii.  36.)  So  are  they  made  up  of  contradictions,  and  in- 
consistencies with  themselves  !  In  the  foremenlioned  con- 
text, (Phil,  iii.)  the  way  and  course  of  walking,  which  the 
blessed  apostle  observed,  and  lamented  with  tears,  was 
such,  as  none  of  them  that  took  it  could  be  supposed  to 
avow.  They  were  not  professed  enemies  to  Christ  and 
Christianity,  of  whom  he  complains.  It  could  be  no  sur- 
prise to  him,  or  strange  thing,  to  sec  men  practise  accord- 
ing to  their  known  principles.  But  that  enmity  to  Christ, 
and  his  great  design,  should  appear  in  the  lives  of  Chris- 
tians, pierced  his  very  soul ;  and  the  more  for  what  there 
follows : 

7.  That  their  end  will  be  destruction.  For  they  w^ere 
to  be  treated,  and  dealt  with  at  last,  not  according  to  what 
they  did  falsely  pretend,  but  what  they  truly  were  ;  besides, 
that  their  destruction  naturally  follows  their  earthly  incli- 
nation. They  have  that  dealli-mark  upon  them,  w'hich  is 
also  the  true  cause  why  ihcy  eariUot  live.  All  their  de- 
signs and  inclinations  terminale  upon  earth,  that  hath 
nothing  in  it  that  souls  can  live  by  ;  and  they  are  enemies 
to  the  cross  of  Christ,  i.  e.  to  the  design  of  his  death  there- 
on, in  compliance  wherevv-ith  stands  their  very  life.  For, 
if  they  are  crucified  with  him,  they  live,  Gal.  ii.  20.  The 
love  of  this  world  must  be  deadly  to  them  excluding  Di- 
vine love,  which  is  their  life.  In  the  same  degrees  where- 
in this  world,  and  all  worldly  lusts,  are  crucified  by  the 
cross  of  Christ,  (Gal.  vi.  14.)  their  true  life  is  renewed  and 
improved.  Who  can  think  less  is  meant  by  saying  so  ex- 
pressly, to  be  carnally  minded  is  death — to  be  spiritually 
minded  is  life,  and  peace  1  Rom.  viii.  6.  When  death  is 
consummate,  and  finished,  their  lusts  grown  mature,  and 
wanting  external  objects,  turn  inward  with  most  intense 
fury,  as  never-dying  worms,  on  the  miserable  creature 
itself;,  here  is  the  fulness  of  death  ! 

8.  Their  destruction  must  be  so  much  the  more  grievous 
for  having  lived  under  the  Gospel,  where  the  state  and  the 
way  of  life  are  so  plainly  revealed.  There  God's  design 
is  laid  open,  only  to  continue  them  under  such  a  dispen- 


sation here,  as  the  means  of  discovery,  and  operation,  to 
reveal  heaven  to  them,  and  prepare  and  fit  them  for  the 
heavenly  state,  that  they  may  seasonably  be  removed 
thither.  But  this  would  never  enter  into  their  hearts,  while 
the  amusements  of  their  present  earthly  state  have  more 
powerfully  diverted  them,  disposed  them  to  dream  and 
trifle  away  the  precious  hours  of  their  gospel-day,  rather 
than  improve  them  to  their  proper  end.  To  have  their 
spirits  remain  imimpressed  by  the  Gospel;  they  have  got 
nothing  by  it,  of  what  is  intended,  and  aimed  at :  to  have 
lived  so  many  years,  twenty,  thirty,  forty  years,  or  more, 
under  the  Gospel,  and  have  got  nothing  of  a  correspondent 
frame  to  so  glorious  a  ministration :  a  Gospel,  which  calls 
men  to  God's  eternal  kingdom  and  glory,  to  be  so  defeated 
of  its  great  design  !  how  is  this  to  be  accounted  fori  That 
is  the  final  term  of  this  call,  viz.  the  eternal  kingdom,  and 
glory  of  God,  1  Thess.  ii.  12.  1  Pet.  v.  10.  He  calls  to 
repentance,  faith,  and  holiness,  and  to  the  fellowship  of  his 
Son  Jesus  Christ:  but  the  ultimate  term  of  this  calling  is, 
his  eternal  kingdom,  and  glory,  and  by  Jesus  Christ,  as  it 
is  there  expressed,  and  from  the  all  or  fulness  of  grace; 
the  God  of  all  grace.  But  now,  to  have  an  ear  invincibly 
deaf  to  this  call,  that  stones  might  as  well  have  been  called 
to  heaven,  clogs  of  earth  to  turn  themselves  into  stars,  and 
fix  themselves  in  the  highest  orbs  ;  what  a  deplorable  case 
is  this !  what  serious  heart  would  it  not  melt,  and  dissolve 
into  tears,  that  from  under  such  a  Gospel  souls  should  be 
dropping  down  into  perdition  continually,  and  we  have  no 
way  to  help  it!  And  if  this  be  a  compassion  able  case  to 
them  that  behold  it,  their  misery  is  great  that  shall  endure 
it. 

Great,  if  we  consider  how  great  the  salvation  was 
which  they  neglected.  Great,  if  it  be  considered,  how  pro- 
voking the  affront  was  to  its  great  prime  Revealer,  as 
well  as  Author,  which  began  to  be  spoken  by  the  Lord ; 
and  the  divine  attestation  afforded  to  the  after-publishers, 
being  confirmed  by  them  that  heard  him  ;  God  also  bear- 
ing thein  witness,  Heb.  ii.  3,  4.  Whereupon  it  is  demand- 
ed, how  can  the  ncglecters  escape  1  Great,  if  we  consider 
their  odious  and  ignominious  comparison,  and  preference 
of  the  vanities  of  this  earth,  to  the  Divine  and  heavenly 
glory  !  And  add,  that  they  perish  in  sight  of  this  glorious 
state  ;  not  far  from  the  kingdom  of  God !  having  it  in 
view  ! 

2.  Let  us  see,  on  the  contrary  hand,  the  blessedness  of 
them,  whose  hearts  are  supremely  set  upon  the  heavenly 
felicity  ;  and  who,  therefore,  only  need  patience,  that  they 
may  wait  till  God  sees  fit  to  translate  them  to  it.  There 
are  many  things  to  be  considered  here. 

1.  Their  spirits  are  attempered  to  the  heavenly  state ; 
hereupon  they  may  daily  reflect,  and  view  the  kingdom  of 
God  begun  within  them,  and  live  in  a  very  pleasant,  com- 
fortable expectation,  that  the  first-fruits  will  be  followed 
by  a  blessed  harvest;  that  the  kingdom  within  them,  con- 
sisting in  righteousness,  peace,  and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost, 
(Rom.  xiv.  17.)  will  issue  in  their  being  at  last  received 
into  a  most  perfectl}'  glorious  kingdom  ;  that  he,  who  is 
working  them  for  that  self-same  thing,  (the  state,  wherein 
mortality  shall  be  swallowed  up  of  life,)  hath  given  them 
the  earnest  of  the  Spirit,  and  thereby  assured  to  them  the 
inheritance  itself,  2  Cor.  v.  4,  5. 

2.  They  feel,  therefore,  within  themselves,  that  their 
patience  is  not  indiflerence ;  much  less,  that  it  imports 
aversion  to  the  state  they  profess  to  be  waiting  for ;  that 
they  love  not  this  present  world,  and  are  loth  to  leave  it. 
Herein  communing  with  themselves,  they  can  appeal  to 
the  kind  eye  of  their  gracious  Lord  ;  and  say,  thou  know- 
est  all  things,  thou  knowest  that  I  love  thee  :  and  that  with 
so  superlative  a  love,  that  there  is  nothing  in  all  this 
world,  which  I  hey  would  not  willingly  leave,  to  be  with 
him,  as  that  which  for  themselves,  and  considering  their 
own  interest  only,  they  count  to  be  best  of  all.  Whereupon 
also,  therefore, 

3.  Their  hearts  will  bear  them  this  testimony,  that  their 
expectation  with  patience  is  imderstood,  and  designed  by 
them,  as  their  duty.  They  exercise  it  in  compliance  with 
the  Divine  pleasure.  They  dare  notprescribe  to  him  about 
the  time,  when  he  will  take  them  up.  He  enables  them 
patiently  to  wait,  as  having  formed  their  hearts  to  a  govern- 
able temper,  and  to  be  subject  to  the  Father  of  spirits. 


OF  FUTURE  BLESSEDNESS. 


301 


And  apprehending,  that  as  he  is  also  peculiarly  styled  the 
God  ol'the  spirits  of  all  flesh,  it  must  belong  to  him  to  de- 
termine, both  what  spirits  shall  sojourn  in  flesh,  and  what 
shall  not;  as  also  to  limit  the  time  of  their  abode  there; 
how  long  they  shall  continue  in  that  mean  (hvelling,  and 
when  they  shall  leave  it.  Conscience  of  duty,  in  this  very 
case,  is  in  itself  a  pleasant  reflection,  and  sensation! 
Whence  it  appearing,  that  it  is  a  matter  of  duty;  this  is 
further  to  be  considered  by  them, 

4.  That  their  very  expectation  itself  will  be  rewarded  ; 
that  since  they  were  willing  to  wait,  though  they  had  real, 
vivid  desires  to  be  dissolved,  and  to  be  with  Christ;  and 
that  their  willingness  to  wait  was  not  idle,  but  conjunct 
with  a  willingness  also  to  serve  him  in  this  world,  they 
shall  have  so  much  the  more  ample  reward  in  heaven; 
their  very  heaven  itself  will  be  so  much  the  more  grateful ; 
and  they  shall  have  so  much  the  more  abundant  entrance 
into  the  everlasting  kinerdom  and  glory.  They  may,  there- 
fore, encourage  themselves  from  that  consolatory  exhorta- 
tion of  the  apostle,  1  Cor.  xv.  ult.  Therefore,  my  beloved 
brethren,  be  steadfast,  unmoveable,  always  abounding  in  the 
work  of  the  Lord ;  forasmuch  as  you  know  3'our  labour 
shall  not  be  in  vain  in  the  Lord.  And  if  no  part  of  that 
work  shall  be  in  vain,  nothing  of  it,  according  to  that  con- 
nexion which  tiie  grace  of  God  hath  settled  between  work 
and  reward,  shall  be  without  its  recompense ;  nor  conse- 
quently any  part  of  that  time,  in  this  our  state  of  expecta- 
tion, which  we  had  for  the  doing  of  such  work,  shall  pass 
without  its  relative  consideration  thereto;  if  only  we  had 
opportunity  to  give  one  cup  of  cold  water  to  a  disciple,  in 
the  name  of  a  disciple. 

Therefore,  to  shut  up  all :  let  us  now  appl}''  and  bend 
ourselves  to  this  one  thing ;  to  get  into  such  a  temper  of 
soul,  as  that  we  may  find,  and  feel,  we  need  patience  to 
wait  for  the  blessedness  of  heaven.  If  we  do  not  sensibly 
need  patience,  we  are  dead,  there  is  no  life  in  us.  If  we 
live  that  life  that  tends  towards  God,  and  will  end  in  eter- 
nal life,  that  life  will  have  sense  belonging  to  it,  and  that 
sense  will  make  us  feel  our  need  of  patience ;  we  shall 
wait,  not  like-stupid  stocks,  but  like  obedient  children. 
And  when  we  see  this  to  be  the  genuine  temper  of  a  Chris- 
tian spirit,  how  uneasy  should  it  be  to  us,  not  to  be  able  to 
say,  Bles.sed  be  God,  it  is  our  temper !  Which,  if  we  do 
find,  our  own  sense  not  letting  us  doubt,  that,  upon  the 
mentioned  account,  we  need  patience  ;  our  next  care  must 
be,  that  we  have  it;  which  will  not  exclude  our  feeling 
the  need  of  it.  For  when  we  find,  that  through  (he  mercy 
of  God,  in  some  competent  measure,  we  have  it,  our  sense 
of  the  need  of  it  will  not  cease,  i.  c.  we  shall  never  account 
that  we  have  it  as  an  unnecessar}'^  or  needless  thing.  We 
shall,  indeed,  truly  judge,  with  just  gratitude,  that  we  do 
not  altogether  want  it ;  but  shall  apprehend  we  need  it 
still,  as  that  we  cannot  be  without.  Yea,  and  the  more  v>'e 
have  of  it,  and  are  under  its  dominion  and  possessive 
power,  the  more  we  shall  apprehend  its  value  and  excel- 
lency, and  how  needful  it  is  to  us.  But  that  when  we 
feel  our  need,  we  piay  not  he  destitute  of  it,  ought  to  be 
our  great  and  verj' principal  care.  Nor  are  we  to  content 
ourselves  with  the  mere  self-indulgent  opinion,  that  we 
have  it  laid  up  (as  in  a  napkin)  in  he  dull  and  lazy  habit ; 
but  must  take  care,  that  we  have  it  in  act  and  exercise ; 
which  is  the  express  import  of  that  apostolical  exhortation, 
James  i.  4.  Let  patience  have  its  perfect  work,  q.  d.  take 
care,  not  merely,  that  you  have  the  principle;  as  where 
one  good  and  holy  principle  belonging  to  the  new  creature 
is,  there  all  are  ;  but  that  we  have  it  in  its  present  use  and 
operation,  or  in  an  acttial  prompiiitule,  and  readiness  for 
use  and  exercise,  as  the  occasions  that  call  for  it  shall 
occur;  that  then  we  be  not  as  men  of  might  that  (though 
not  supposed  to  want)  cannot  find  their  hands,  i.  e.  have 
them  not  ready  for  present  use. 

Moreover,  we  are  here  also  to  consider,  that  though 
patience  is  needful  as  that  text  imports,  upon  the  account 
of  mere  absence,  and  expectation  of  the  good,  i.  e.  princi- 
pally the  final  blessedness  contained  in  fhc  promise;  and 
that  this  alone  is  a  true  ground,  upon  which  patience  is 
necessary,  if  we  look  upon  the  ca.se  abstractly,  and  in  thest, 
or  in  the  theoric,  and  conteinplation  :  vet  when  we  come 
to  the  exercise  of  patience,  we  actuallv  find  no  such  case, 
wh'^rein  the  expectation  of  this  promised  good  is  alone ; 


but  variously  complicated  with  many  other  occasions,  in 
this  our  present  state,  while  we  dwell  in  such  a  woild,and 
in  such  bodies,  that  must  increase  our  need  of  patience. 
For,  taking  the  whole  matter,  as  may  be  said,  in  concrelo, 
and  as  comprehending  all  our  present  circumstances,  we 
may  be  put  to  expect  the  promised  good,  under  much  suf- 
fering for  the  sake  of  Christ  and  a  good  conscience,  as  is 
signified  in  this  context,  ver.  32,  33,  34.  Enduring  a  great 
fight  of  afflictions — made  gazing  stocks,  by  reproaches  on 
ourselves,  and  as  the  companions  of  others  so  used — su!- 
fering  the  spoiling  of  our  goods,  even  our  all,  as  to  this 
world;  so  as  nothing  shall  remain  to  us,  but  the  (expected) 
better,  the  enduring  heavenly  substance.  And  we  may 
thus  be  obliged  to  expect,  amidst  great  bodily  pains  and 
languishings,  the  concussions  and  shakings  of  our  earthly 
tabernacles,  while,  as  yet,  they  come  not  down;  the  out- 
ward man  daily  perishing,  but  we  know  not  how  long  it 
will  be  ere  it  actually  perish  ;  besides,  the  more  grievous 
distempers  of  the  inw  ard  man,  that  not  being  so  sensibly 
renewed,  as  with  many  it  is  not,  da)''  by  day,  2  Cor.  iv.  16. 
And  thus,  if  we  had  not  others'  burdens,  we  are  burden 
enough  to  ourselves.  Whereupon,  the  greater  our  need  of 
patience  is,  the  more  earnestly  we  should  endeavour  for 
it.  And  we  are  to  use  very  earnest  endeavours  in  order 
hereto,  both  with  God,  and  with  ourselves. 

With  God,  by  incessant  prayer,  as  the  God  of  all  grace  ; 
that,  as  the  apostle  speaks  in  another  instance,  we  may 
abound  in  this  grace  also.  Another  apostle,  St.  James,  (ch. 
i.  4,  5.)  speaks  of  this  Christian  excellency  under  the  name 
of  wisdom.  'Tis  plain  he  .so  intends;  for  having  (ver.  4.) 
given  the  exhortation.  Let  patience  have  its  perfect  work — 
he  subjoins,  (ver.  5.)  If  any  man  lack  wisdom,  i.  c.  as  is 
evident,  this  wisdom,  patiently  to  acquiesce  in  the  Divine 
pleasure,  under  whatsoever  exercises,  or  of  what  continu- 
ance soever  ;  than  which  no  part  of  wisdom  can  be  more 
necessary,  or  any  thing  more  apparently  wise.  But  we 
see  what  his  further  direction  is  upon  that  suppo^^ition,  if 
any  man  lack  this  wisdom,  let  him  ask  it  of  God,  &c. 
Agreeably  whereto  he  is  pleased  to  be  styled  the  God  of 
patience,  (Rom.  xv.  5.)  to  let  us  know  whether,  in  this 
apprehended  and  felt  necessity,  our  great  resort  must  be. 
And  how  kind  and  compassionate  is  the  encouragement 
given  in  the  following  words  of  that  former  text,  James  i. 
5.  that  he  giveth  to  all  men  liberally,  and  upbraideth  not ; 
is  not  apt  to  reproach  frail  creatures  with  the  folly  of  their 
impatient  freltings,  but  freely,  upon  their  request,  to  give 
them  that  composure  of  mind  which  may  show  them  to  be 
truly  wise ;  and  wherein  their  wisdom  doth  eminently 
consist.  Moreover,  we  find  that  elsewhere  experience  is 
appealed  to  for  further  encouragement,  and  as  a  demon- 
stration of  God's  faithfulness  in  this  case,  1  Cor.  x.  13. 
No  temptation  hath  befallen  you  but  what  is  common  to 
man,  or  incident  to  our  present  state,  and  for  the  bearing 
whereof  you  had  divine  support.  And  God  is  faithful,  who 
will  not  suffer  you  to  be  tempted,  or  tried,  above  what  you 
are  able,  or  beyond  the  alnlity  which  he  will  graciously 
afford  you  ;  but  will,  with  tlie  trial,  make  a  wav  to  escape, 
that  you  be  able  to  bear  it ;  i.  e.  such  a  wa)-  of  escape, 
as  will  not  avoid  bearing,  but  consist  with  it;  and  wherein 
a  vouchsafed  ability  to  bear  shall  consist;  so  as  that  you 
come  off"  unharmed,  and  without  real  hurt  or  prejudice. 
And  since  patience  is  this  ability  to  bear,  how  rea5onable 
is  it,  with  a  filial  faith  and  (onfidence,  to  supplicate  for  it. 

Yet,  as  we  are  thus  by  fervent  prayer  to  strive  and 
wrestle  with  God  ;  it  will  argue  we  are  grossly  neglectful, 
or  very  ignorant  of  God's  usual  methods  of  communicat- 
ing his  gracious  assistances,  if  also  we  do  not,  by  proper 
and  suitable  means,  strive,  and  take  pains  with  ourselves, 
that  we  may  obtain  what  we  praj'  for.  And  nothing  can 
be  more  suitable  to  reasonable  creatures,  that  are  not  to 
he  wrought  upon  as  stocks  or  stones,  but  as  men  and 
Christians,  capable  of  consideration  and  thought :  and  of 
such  thoughts  and  considerations,  as  God"s  own  word, 
which  we  profess  to  believe,  hath  given  ground  for;  of 
which  considerations  there  are  many,  wherewith  we  should 
urge  our  own  souls  to  the  exercise  of  such  patience  as  the 
present  case  calls  for;  i.e.  while  as  vet  we  are  to  continue 
expectants,  waiting  his  time,  for  our  receiving  the  promise. 
In  this  way  we  should  therefore  commune,  and  discourse 
this  matter  with  ourselves  :  Am  not  I  God's  creature,  the 


302 


OF  PATIENCE,  IN  EXPECTATION,  &c. 


work  of  his  hands  1  Hath  he  not  given  nie  breath  and 
being?  "Was  it  not  for  his  pleasure,  or  by  his  will,  that  I, 
with  the  rest  of  his  creatures,  am  and  was  created?  Did  it 
not  depend  upon  his  will,  whether  I  should  be  or  not  be  ? 
have  any  place  in  his  creation  1  be  any  thing  or  nothing 
for  ever?  Did  not  his  own  free  choice  determine  in  what 
rank  or  order  of  creatures  I  should  be  placed  ?  Whether 
among  frogs,  toads,  serpents,  or  men  ?  Could  I  choose  my 
place  and  station  in  the  creation  of  God  ?  How  favourable 
a  vouchsafement  was  it,  that  he  made  me  a  creature  capa- 
ble of  thought,  of  design,  of  felicity,  of  immortality,  and 
eternal  life!  of  receiving  such  a  promise,  as  I  am  now 
expecting  to  be  accomplished  and  fulfilled  unto  me  !  What 
could  be  considered  here  but  the  good  pleasure  of  God's 
goodness  ?  How  impossible  was  it  that  no  arbitrary  and 
royal  bounty  should  be  prescribed  unto !  And  shall  I 
not  now  wait  with  patience  for  the  final  result  and  issue 
of  it? 

But  how  overpowering  a  consideration  should  it  be 
with  me,  to  think,  I  am  not  only  his  creature,  but  one  that 
had  offended  him,  and  how  unexpressibly  what  I  expect 
is  above  the  condition  of  a  revolted  creature !  One  fallen 
from  God!  in  rebellion  against  him!  and  by  nature  a 
child  of  wrath !  One  engaged  in  the  common  conspiracy 
of  the  apostate  sons  of  Adam,  against  their  sovereign 
rightful  Lord  !  that  were  agreed,  in  one  sense,  to  say 
to  God,  Depart  from  us,  we  desire  not  the  knowledge 
of  thy  ways  :  and  were  all  best  pleased,  to  be  as  without 
God  in  the  world  !  Whence  is  it  to  me  !  one  of  that  vile, 
degenerate,  rebellious  crew !  that  a  promise  should  be  be- 
fore me,  and  in  view,  pointed  at  me,  (as  it  is  to  all  that 
do  not  disbelieve  or  despise  it)  of  entering  into  the  blessed 
rest  of  God  himself!  Heb.  iv.  1.  Or,  according  to  the 
nearer  and  more  immediate  reference  of  the  words  we 
have  in  hand,  chap.  x.  ver.  34.  of  having  in  heaven  the 
better  and  enduring  substance  !  And  shall  I  not  patiently 
wait  for  it  ?  Why  am  I  so  over  hasty,  to  snatch  at  what  I 
am  but  dutifully  to  receive!  and  with  highest  admiration, 
of  the  rich  grace  of  the  glorious  Giver  ! 

Is  the  gift  itself  wholly  in  his  power,  and  not  the  time? 
Did  it  not  entirely  depend  upon  his  pleasure,  to  give,  or 
not  to  give  ?  And  doth  it  not  as  much  belong  to  him  to 
determine  when  his  gift  shall  take  place  ?  Is  the  substance 
in  his  choice,  and  not  the  circumstance  ?  The  thing  itself 
was  infinitely  above  expectation ;  and  shall  it  now  be 
grievous  to  expect  the  appointed  time?  There  was  a  time 
and  state  of  things,  when  with  me,  an  offender,  an  ob- 
stinate, impenitent  rebel,  no  other  expectation  could  re- 
main, but  of  wrath,  and  fiery  indignation.  It  is  of  mere 
gracious  vouchsafement  that  I  comfortably  expect  at  all ; 
and  shall  I  count  it  a  hardship,  that  I  am  not  presently 
told  how  long  ?  And  how  relieving  a  thing  should  it  be 
agamst  the  weariness  of  such  an  expectation,  that  so  great  a 
good  IS  sure  at  last,  tnz.  as  that  contained  in  the  promise  ! 
For  is  not  he  faithful  who  hath  promised  ?  And  hath  he 
not  so  graciously  condescended,  as  to  add  to  his  promise 
his  oath,  that  by  two  immutable  things,  by  which  it  is  im- 
possible for  God  to  lie,  the  heirs  of  promise  might  have 
strong  consolation  ?  Heb.  vi.  17,  18.  And  when  this 
assurance  is  given  to  the  heirs  of  promise,  ver.  17.  i.  e.  to 
the  regenerate;  for  if  children  then  heirs,  Rom.  viii.  17. 
nothing  can  he  surer  than  this,  in  the  general,  (hat  all  that 
are  regenerate,  or  sincere  Christians,  .shall  inherit  at  one 
time,  or  other.  Nothing  is  left  doubtful,  but  the  time 
when,  i.  e.  the  time  when  they  shall  die.  For  they  that 
die  in  Christ  are  past  danger.  And  the  method  is  pre- 
scribed us,  of  making  our  calling  and  election  sure. 

When,  therefore,  this  is  done,  how  great  is  the  consola- 
tion, that  one  time  or  other  I  am  sure  to  die  !  What  can 
be  surer  ?  It  is  not  in  the  power  of  all  the  world,  not  of  the 
greatest  enemy  I  can  hav^e  in  it,  to  keep  me  alM'ays  there, 
or  hinder  my  going  out  of  ir,  at  my  appointed  time.  Such 
therefore  our  Saviour,  under  the  name  of  his  friends,  (Luke 
xii.)  forbids  to  fear  them  that  kill  the  body,  and,  after  that, 
have  no  more  that  they  can  do.  Which  is  a  triumph  over 
the  impotency  of  the  utmost  human  malice  against  good 
men ;  the  greatest  hurt  they  have  it  in  their  own  power  to 
do  them,  is  to  put  it  out  of  their  own  power  ever  to  hurt 

b  Miser  est  quicunq  ;  nonvult,  mundo  secum  meriente,  mori.    Sen-  Trag. 


them  more  !  and  to  put  them  into  the  possession  of  the 
most  blesstxl  state  ! 

This  consideration,  therefore,  should,  at  once,  both  make 
us  patient  of  death,  when  expected  as  an  apprehended 
evil ;  and  of  the  expectation  of  the  consequent  good,  to 
which  it  is  an  appointed,  unalterable  introduction.  Of 
death,  as  that  which  must  intervene,  and  in  reference 
whereto  itself,  we  have  need  of  patience,  that  we  may  in- 
herit the  promise.  For  that  which  is  sown  is  not  quick- 
ened, except  it  die.  It  is  necessary  we  be  reconciled  to 
this  wise  and  equal  law  of  our  sovereign  Lord,  by  which 
it  is  appointed  for  all  men  once  to  die  : — that  we  be  satis- 
fied and  well  pleased,  that  this  world  be  not  continued 
always,  for  the  production  and  s^rstenance  of  men  born  in 
sin  :  that  rebels  against  heaven  are  not  to  be  everlastingly 
propagated  here  on  earth  :  that  God  shall  not  thus  perpe- 
tuate his  own  dishonours,  and  prevent  the  judgment  that 
is  to  shut  up  this  scene,  and  set  all  things  right  between 
him  and  his  revolted  creatures,  after  apt  and  suitable 
means  used  for  their  reduction  and  recovery.  With  how 
dutiful  submission  and  complacency  should  we  yield,  for 
our  parts,  to  this  constitution  !  so  as  for  ourselves,  not  to 
wish  for  an  exemption.  For  how  can  we  harbour  a  desire 
in  our  hearts,  which  we  cannot  form  into  a  prayer  ?  And 
how  would  such  a  prayer  sound,  "  Lord,  when  all  this 
world  is  to  die  round  about  me,  let  me  be  an  excepted  in- 
stance ?  Let  me  live  here  always?"  How  presumptuous  a 
request  were  it !  And  how  foolish  !  For  is  not  the  course 
of  God's  procedure  herein,  from  age  to  age,  a  constant 
avowing  of  the  righteousness  and  of  the  immutability  of 
his  counsel,  in  reference  to  it?  'Tis  a  wretched  thing  to 
be  engaged  in  a  war  with  necessity  made  by  righteousness 
itself,  and  the  most  invincible  reason  !  A  pagan,  repre- 
sented in  the  heig'ht  of  madness,  was  not  so  mad  as  not  to 
see  this,i>  that  he  is  a  ivretched  creature,  that  is  vnvrilling 
to  die,  when  the  world  is  every  where  dying  with  him  !  Our 
patience  possessing  our  souls,  will  not  endure  there  should 
be  such  a  pugna,  a  reluctant  disposition,  not  overcome 
against  this  inviolable  statute  and  determination ;  which 
disposition  must  be  equally  disloyal  to  our  Maker  and 
uncomfortable  to  ourselves. 

And  this  consideration  should  make  us  patient  in  ex- 
pecting the  consequent  good,  whereto  death  is  the  intro- 
duction ;  that  the  expected  good  is  so  ascertained  to  the 
friends  of  Christ,  that  death  intervening  cannot  be  hurtful, 
or  be  any  bar  to  our  attainment  of  the  good  promised; 
nor  is  rationally  formidable  ;  since  we  cannot  suppose  our 
Lord  would  forbid  our  fearing  what  we  have  reason  to  fear. 
But  unto  his  friends  he  forbid  the  fearing  of  them  that 
can  kill  the  body  only,  and  after  that  have  no  more  that 
they  can  do  ;  but  requires  them  to  fear  him,  that  can  cast 
soul  and  body  into  hell.  It  is  plainly  implied,  that  killing 
the  body  is  no  hurt  or  damage  to  the  soul;  it  cannot  se- 
parate from  the  love  of  God,  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus  our 
Lord,  Rom.  viii.  38,  39.  No,  nor  the  principalities  and 
powers  which,  in  that  juncture,  in  that  very  article,  or  in- 
stant of  dying,  will  be  sure  to  do  their  uttermost  to  work 
that  separation.  And  considering  this  bodily  death  as  an 
introduction  to  blessedness,  it  not  only  can  infer  no  dam- 
age, but  it  must  be  our  great  advantage.  Which  is  implied 
in  the  mentioned  context,  Luke  xii.  8.  Whosoever  shall 
confess  me  before  men,  him  will  the  Son  of  man  confess 
before  the  angels  of  God.  For  though  it  is  not  the  lot  of 
every  Christian  to  be  an  actual  martyr,  yet  every  true 
Christian  is  an  habitual  one.  Whosoever,  therefore,  dies 
with  a  fixed  disposition  of  spirit  never  upon  any  terms,  to 
deny  Christ,  he  a.ssures  us  he  will  solemnly  own  them, 
even  before  all  the  angels;  which  must  include  their  being 
admitted  into  a  most  blessed  state.  When  also  such  are 
expressly  told,  that  all  things  are  theirs,  (lCor.iii.21,  22.) 
and  death  is  reckoned  into  the  account  of  the  all  things, 
this  cannot  but  signify  ihat  death  is  to  be,  not  only  no  de- 
triment to  them,  but  their  advantage  and  gain  ;  which  is 
also  plainly  spoke  out,  Phil.  i.  21.  For  to  me  to  live  is 
Christ,  and  to  die  is  gain.  And  that  most  gainful  good 
being  so  fully  assured  to  them,  they  have  all  the  reason  in 
the  world  to  expect  it  with  patience. 

Moreover,  how  consolatory  must  it  be  to  them,  that 


AN  APPENDIX  TO  THE  PRECEDING  DISCOURSE. 


303 


have  any  taste  of  spiritual  and  heavenly  things,  that  so 
pleasant  a  way  is  prescribed  them  of  living,  through  the 
whole  time  of  their  expecting  state,  i.  e.  as  long  as  they 
liv£  in  the  flesh,  tnz.  to  live  by  faith  in  the  Son  of  God, 
Gal.  ii.  20.  How  unspeakable  is  the  joy  and  pleasure  of 
that  way  of  living !  That  all  the  days  of  our  abode  in  the 
flesh,  we  have  so  great  a  one  as  the  glorious  ever-ble.ssed 
Son  of  God  to  depend  upon ;  by  continual,  and  often  re- 
peated vital  acts,  resigning  ourselves  to  his  conduct  and 
government,  and  deriving  from  that  fulness,  which  it 
pleased  the  Father  should  dwell  in  him,  all  needful  sup- 
plies of  grace,  spirit,  life,  and  righteousness;  and  that  we 
are  taught  to  consider  him,  not  as  a  stranger,  or  one  un- 
related to  us,  or  unconcerned  for  us  ;  but  who  hath  loved 
us,  and  (which  is  the  highest  evidence  hereof)  given  him- 
self for  us,  that  great,  rich,  and  glorious  self!  In  whom, 
therefore,  our  faith  may  not  only  repose,  and  acquiesce, 
but  triumph  and  glory ! "  And  that  we  may  do  thus,  not  by 


rare,  unfrequent,  and  long  intermitted  intervals;  but  as 
long  as  we  breathe  in  mortal  flesh,  even  to  the  last  breath! 
Should  such  a  way  of  living  be  tedious,  and  irksome  to 
usl  Though  we  expect  long,  we  are  not  toexpect  as  for- 
lorn creatures,  without  Chri.st,  and  without  hope,  and 
without  God  in  the  world!  Therefore,  in  how  high  trans- 
ports of  spirit  should  we  exult,  and  bless  God,  who  hath 
so  stated  our  case  ;  endeavouring  to  our  uttermost  and  ear- 
nestly aspiring  to  that  excellent  temper  of  spirit,  (Col.  i. 
11,  1'2.) — to  be.  strengthened  with  all  might,  according  to 
his  glorious  power,  unto  all  patience,  and  long-suffering, 
with  joyfnlness,  giving  thanks. — And  how  overpowering  a 
consideration  should  this  be  with  us  '.  What !  am  I  to 
aim  at  that  high  pitch  of  all  patience,  and  long-suffering 
with  joyfuIne.ss;  and,  in.stead  of  repining,  to  give  thanks; 
and  have  I  not  attained  so  far,  as  to  meet  patience  1  My 
not  being  able  to  endure  the  enjoined  expectation,  should 
make  me  not  endure  myself! 


AN   APPENDIX, 


CONTAINING    SOME    MEMORIAL 


OF  DOCTOR  HENRY  SAMPSON, 


A  LATE  NOTED  PHYSICIAN  IN  THE  CITY  OF  LONDON- 


Although  the  foregoing  discourse  is  grounded  upon 
the  same  text  of  Scripture  that  was  insisted  on  soon  after 
the  notice  was  brought  me  of  this  worthy  person's  decease, 
and  upon  the  occasion  thereof;  yet  this  discourse  itself 
cannot  admit  to  be  called  a  funeral  sermon.  The  frequent 
and  inward  conversation  I  had  with  him,  divers  years, 
gave  me  ground  to  apprehend,  that  the  temper  and  com- 
plexion of  his  mind  and  spirit  did  very  much  agree  with 
the  sense  and  import  of  this  text  ;  which,  when  I  heard  of 
his  death,  first  led  my  thoughts  to«t;  and  was  my  induce- 
ment to  say  something  of  it  in  public,  with  some  particu- 
lar reference  to  him,  in  whom  I  had  seen  an  exemplifi- 
cation of  it  in  an  eminent  degree.  But  of  what  was  then 
said,  I  could  now  give  no  distinct  account.  For  having 
then  no  thought  of  its  further  publication,  and  my  own 
long  languishings  presently  ensuing,  what  was  spoken 
upon  that  occasion,  was  with  me  lost.  Nor  was  it  after- 
wards decent  to  olTer  at  publishing  a  sermon,  for  the 
funeral  of  one,  though  very  dear  to  me,  that  was  deceased 
so  long  before.  Yet  God  affording  me,  at  length,  some 
respiration  from  the  extremity  of  those  painful  distempers 
that  had  long  afflicted  me;  apprehending,  that  a  discourse 
upon  this  subject  might  be  of  some  use  to  divers  others 
besides  the  present  hearers,  I  did,  by  intervals,  set  myself 
to  reconsider  it.  And  only  now  take  this  occasion  to 
annex  some  memorial  of  this  excellent  person,  that  first 
drew  my  thoughts  to  it.  He  was  long  a  member,  and 
lived  in  communion  Avi'th  many  of  us,  in  the  same  church, 
viz.  by  the  space  of  thirty  years,  under  the  pastoral  inspec- 
tion of  the  Reverend  Doctor  Jacomb,  and  of  him  who, 
with  great  inequality,  succeeded  him.  This  he  signified 
himself,  in  a  paper  written  by  his  own  hand,  and  delivered 
to  me  when  we  were  entering  upon  the  administration  of 
the  Lord's  supper,  the  last  time  that  God  ordered  him 
that  opportunity  with  ns.     The  paper  was  thus : 

"  Sir, 
"It  is  my  request  to  you,  that  you  will  please  to  ac- 
quaint the  congregation  with  the  great  sense  I  have  of 
the  mercy  of  God,  that  hath  afforded  me  communion 
with  them,  and  their  ministry,  for  thirty  years  together. 
But  now  being,  by  the  providence  of  God,  deprived  of 


my  health  in  the  city,  I  am  to  seek  relief  thereof  in  the 
country  air,  and  shall  thereby  be,  in  a  great  measure,  de- 
prived of  those  blessings ;  yet  I  earnestly  desire  their 
prayers  for  me,  and  my  family,  that  in  some  sort  of  such 
intercourse,  our  communion  may  continue  still,  if  not  in 
body,  yet  in  spirit. 

Your  servant, 

HENRY  SAMPSON." 

He  now  found  himself  constrained  by  his  declining  age, 
and  growing  distempers,  to  retire  from  us  (but  not  with- 
out very  great  reluctancy)  into  a  village  at  no  great  dis- 
tance from  the  city;  but  which,  for  change  of  air,  was 
necessary,  and,  as  he  found,  relieving  to  him.  From 
thence  his  earnest  desire  to  visit  his  relations,  and  native 
country,  engaged  him  in  a  long  journey,  as  far  as  Notting- 
hamshire. And  that  journey  brought  him  into  the  better, 
even  the  heavenly  country:  God  so  ordering  it,  that  near 
the  place  where  he  drew  his  first  breath,  he  should  draw 
his  last;  and  end  a  very  holy  useful  life,  not  far  from  the 
very  spot  where  he  began  to  live.  For  reaching  the  seat 
of  a  reverend  brother  of  his,  near  to  that  of  his  birth,  he 
there  found,  but  for  a  very  few  days,  a  temporal,  and  there 
entered  upon  his  eternal  rest.  So  falling  a  liiile  short  ol 
the  {patrias  sede^)  the  place  that  had  been  the  dwelling  ot 
his  earthly  parents,  by  a  joyful  anticipation,  he  sooner  ar- 
rived at  his  heavenly  Father's  house,  and  found  his  place 
among  the  many  mansions,  and  everlasthig  habitations, 
where  was  to  be  his  proper  and  perpetual  home.  It 
is  not  now  my  design  to  write  the  history  of  his  life,  the 
former  part,  and  therefore  the  longer  course  and  tract 
whereof,  must  have  been  more  known  to  divers  of  our 
society,  than  it  could  be  to  me ;  though  I  have  had  much 
opportunity  also,  within  the  space  of  twenty  years  past,  to 
understand  and  know  much  of  it.  But  that  must  contain 
many  things  which,  though  useful  in  their  kind,  my  cir- 
cumstances allow  me  not  to  relate.  Nor  shall  I  enlarge 
in  giving  his  character,  though  the  subject  is  copious;  for 
my"  present  infirmities  will  make  my  limits  narrow, 
whether  I  will  or  no. 

But  a  man  of  so  real  value,  and  usefulness  in  his  sta- 
tion, and  of  so  instructive,  and  exemplary  a  conversation, 


304 


APPENDIX  TO  THE  PRECEDING  DISCOURSE. 


ought  not  to  be  neglected,  or  be  let  slide  off  the  stage  from 
among  us,  without  some  such  observation,  as  may  some 
way  answer  a  debt  owing  to  his  memory;  and  be  a  real 
gain  and  advantage  to  ourselves.  He  began  his  course, 
favoured  by  the  Author  of  nature,  with  very  good  natural 
parts;  and  very  early  enriched  with  communications  of 
the  more  excellent  kind,  by  the  God  of  all  grace.  Here- 
with, having  his  spirit  seasoned,  and  deeply  tinctured  be- 
times, the  fear  of  the  Lord,  which  is  the  beginning  of 
wisdom,  became,  near  the  beginning  of  liis  course,  the 
governing  principle  thereof.  His  choice  was,  therefore, 
of  that  way  and  state,  wherein  he,  in  the  general,  conceived 
he  might  most  glorify  God,  and  do  most  good  to  men.  And 
because,  he  thought,  he  might  serve  those  ends  best,  in 
that  high  and  noble  emplo^^nent,  wherein  he  should  be 
obliged  principally,  and  most  directly,  to  intend  the  saving 
of  men's  souls,  thither  he  more  immediately  bent  and  di- 
rected his  preparatory  endeavours. 

And,  therefore,  though  in  his  academical  studies,  wherein 
he  spent  several  years,  he  neglected  no  part  of  that  rational 
learning,  which  was  most  fitly  conducing  and  serviceable 
to  this  his  purpose  ;  yet  he  most  earnestly  applied  himself 
to  the  gaining  a  thorough  acquaintance  with  those  lan- 
guages, wherein  the  Holy  Scriptures  were  originally  wjit- 
ten ;  and  spared  no  cost  to  procure  great  variety  of  the 
best  and  most  celebrated  editions  of  both  the  testaments, 
with  other  helps,  for  the  attaining  of  that  most  necessary 
knowledge ;  whereof  his  library,  so  richly  furnished  in 
that  kind,  did  appear,  after  his  decease,  a  full  evidence  ;  to 
the  bettering  of  divers  other  libraries,  of  such  as  he  had 
formerly  been  wont  to  hear,  and  among  them,  as  I  must 
with  gratitude  acknowledge,  by  his  special  kindness  and 
bequest,  my  own.  Accordingly  this  had  been  his  calling, 
if  the  way  of  managing  it  could  as  much  have  been  the 
matter  of  his  choice,  guided  by  his  judgment  and  con- 
science, as  the  calling  itself  had  been. 

But  things  falling  out,  in  this  respect,  otherwise,  before 
he  could  solemnly  enter  upon  it ;  he  seasonably  diverted 
from  it,  to  that  which  he  judged  the  ne.xt  best;  and 
wherein  the  persons  of  men  were  still  to  be  the  objects  of 
his  care.  Things  of  higher  excellency  than  lands  and 
riches  ;  as  life  and  the  body  are,  by  the  verdict  of  our  Sa- 
viour, of  more  worth  than  their  perquisites,  food  and  rai- 
ment, unto  which,  ample  estates  and  revenues  are  but 
more  remotely  subservient.  And  the  vicinity  of  this  to 
that  other  most  excellent  calling,  is  so  near,  that  it  is  an 
easy  step  from  it  to  the  affairs  of  the  other.  Which  we  see 
exemplified  in  that  excellent  person,  a  dear  and  most 
worthy  *  relative  of  the  deceased  ;  unto  whose  historical 
account  of  him,  subjoined  to  this  discourse,  I  refer  the 
reader  for  fuller  information  :  whose  most  useful  and 
elaborate  works  may  not  only  occasion  us  to  consider  the- 
ology as  every  one's  business,  or  the  calling  of  a  divine  as 
in  some  respect  transcendental,  and  running  through  ev^ery 
man's  calling ;  but  that  of  a  physician,  as  more  nearly 
allied  to  it  than  any  other ;  many  excellent  speculations 
being  common,  and,  as  those  works  show,  of  great  impor- 
tance, to  both.  And  in  which  performance  that  accurate 
writer  doth  not,  indeed,  preach  to  the  vulgar,  but  instructs 
a  Dr.  Grew. 


preachers.  And,  as  it  hath  been  sometime  thought  a 
greater  thing  to  make  a  king,  than  to  be  one,  he  hath  at- 
tained a  higher  degree,  above  being,  himself,  one  single 
preacher,  in  doing  that  whereby  now,  and  in  future  time, 
he  may  contribute  to  the  making  of  many. 

These  are  some  instances,  and  blessed  be  God,  'lis  to 
be  hoped  there  are  others,  which  show,  that  Religio  Me- 
dici is  not  always  opprobrious,  or  a  note  of  ignominy  and 
reproach ;  and  that  a  beloved  physician,  on  the  best  ac- 
count, was  not  appropriate  to  the  first  age.  That  calling 
gives  very  great  opportunity  to  a  man  of  a  serious  spirit,  of 
doing  good  to  men's  souls;  and  I  know,  it  hath  been 
improved  by  some,  to  discourse,  and  to  pray  with  their 
dying  patients  ;  and  when  their  art  could  not  immortalize 
their  bodies,  they  did  all  that  in  them  lay  for  the  saving 
their  immortal  souls.  And  this,  I  have  reason  to  think, 
was  a  great  part  of  the  practice  of  this  worthy  man.  In 
the  proper  business  of  this  calling,  he  sincerely  studied  the 
good  of  mankind ;  endeavouring  to  his  utmost,  to  lengthen 
out  their  time  in  this  world,  in  order  to  their  further  pre- 
paration for  the  other.  And  herein  his  skill  v/as  not 
unequal  to  his  sincerity  ;  nor  his  charity  to  his  skill :  for 
being  applied  to,  upon  no  former  acquaintance,  when  the 
cases  of  extreme  illness  and  extreme  poverty  have  met  to- 
gether, he  hath  most  cheerfully  embraced  the  opportunity 
of  doing  such  good ;  declaring,  he  was  ready  as  well  to 
serve  the  poor,  when  he  was  to  receive  nothing,  as  the  rich, 
from  whom  he  might  expect  the  largest  fees :  his  visits 
have  been  there  repeated  with  equal  constancy  and  dili- 
gence. He  equally  rejoiced  in  the  success  of  such  endea- 
vours, whereof  he  had  no  other  recompense,  than  the  satis- 
faction of  having  relieved  the  distressed  and  the  miserable. 
And  of  such,  some  do  survive  him,  to  whom  the  remem- 
brance of  his  name  is  still  grateful  and  dear.  Nor  were 
the  great  advantages  lost,  which  he  had  gained,  for  the 
instructing  a  congregation,  (had  the  state  of  things  and  his 
judgment  concurred  thereto,)  for  they  eminently  appeared 
to  such  as  had  the  privilege  of  living  under  his  roof,  and 
of  partaking  in  the  instructions  which  his  great  acquaint- 
ance with  the  Holy  Scriptures  enabled  him  to  giv^e  ihem 
from  time  to  time  :  which,  together  with  his  daily  fervent 
prayers,  and  holy  conversation,  made  his  family  as  a  well 
ordered  and  a  watered  garden,  compared  with  the  howling 
wilderness  of  too  many  others. 

But  in  all  my  conversation  with  him,  nothing  was  more 
observable,  or  more  grateful  to  me,  than  his  pleasant  and 
patient  expectation  of  the  blessed  state,  which  he  now 
possesses.  The  mention  whereof  would  make  joy  sparkle 
in  his  eye,  and  clothe  his  countenance  with  cheerful  looks; 
accompanied  with  such  tokens  of  serenity,  and  a  composed 
temper  of  mind,  as  showed  and  signified  submission,  with 
an  unreluctant  willingness  to  wait  for  that  time,  which  the 
wisdom  and  goodness  of  God  should  judge  seasonable  for 
his  removal  out  of  a  world,  which  he  loved  not;  nor  yet 
could  disatfect  from  any  sense  of  its  unkindness  to  him, 
but  only  from  the  prospect  he  had  of  a  better.  Which 
made  rne  think  him  a  fit  example  of  what  is  treated  of  in 
the  foregoing  discourse. 


THE  WORTHY 


DOCTOR   GREW'S    ACCOUNT 


OF  THIS  HIS  EXCELLENT  BROTHER-IN-LAW. 


Doctor  Henry  Sampson  was  the  son  and  heir  of  a  reli- 
gious gentleman,  Mr.  William  Sampson  of  South-Lever- 
lon,  in  Nottinghamshire ;  and  nephew  to  those  two  emi- 
nent linguists,  Mr.  John  and  Mr.  Samuel  Vicars,  the  joint 
authors  of  the  Decapla  on  the  Psalms.  In  his  minoritj^, 
he  was  first  under  the  government  of  his  most  virtuous 
mother.  Upon  her  re-marriage  of  his  father-in-law,  the 
very  reverend  Doctor  Ohadiah  Grew  of  Coventry ;  by 
whom  he  was  committed,  at  the  age  of  fifteen,  to  the  tutor- 
age of  Mr.  William  Moses,  then  fellow,  and  some  time 
after  the  learned  and  worthy  master,  of  Pembroke  Hall, 
in  Cambridge.  Under  whom,  his  proficiency  was  such, 
as  preferred  him  to  be  the  moderator  of  his  year.  So  soon 
as  he  was  of  sufficient  standing,  he  was  chosen  fellow  of 
the  same  Hall.  And,  not  long  after,  had  one  of  the  best 
livings  in  the  gift  of  the  college  bestowed  upon  him,  viz. 
that  of  Framlingham  in  Suflfolk.  Here  he  wa.s,  when  he 
published  that  correct  edition  of  the  learned  Thesis  of 
Mr.  Thoma.s  Parker,  entitled,  Methodus  Divinse  Gratiae, 
&c.  a  golden  book,  with  a  golden  epistle  of  his  own  pre- 
fixed to  it ;  both  of  them  havinc  a  great  deal  of  weight  in 
a  little  room.  While  he  continued  here,  he  made  several 
visits  to  Coventry,  where  he  often  preached  for  the  Doctor, 
his  father-in-law,  with  great  acceptation,  as  well  as  among 
his  own  people.  In  both  which  places  his  name  is  as  a  pre- 
cious ointment,  and  his  memory  had  in  honour  unto  this 
day.  Upon  the  restoration  of  King  Charles,  being  obliged 
to  leave  his  people,  he  resolved,  as  well  because  he  was 
never  a:!iained,  as  tor  ^cv.\s  other  reasons,  to  qualify  him- 


self for  the  practice  of  physic.  In  order  whereunto, 
having  visited  several  universities,  famous  for  medicine 
abroad,  he  stayed  first  at  Padua,  and  then  at  Leyden,  for 
some  time.  In  the  latter  of  which  he  became  very  well 
acquainted  with  that  eminent  person,  the  Lord  Chief  Jus- 
tice St.  John,  who  bore  a  singular  respect  to  him,  as  long 
as  he  lived.  Having  here  taken  his  degree,  he  returned 
home  and  settled  in  this  city.  Where  also,  for  order's 
sake,  he  entered  himself  of  the  College  of  Physicians,  as 
an  honorary  fellow.  Among  the  members  whereof,  he 
justly  obtained  the  repute  of  being  substantially  learned  in 
all  the  parts  of  his  profession  Besides  other  improvements 
he  aimed  at,  he  laid  up  a  considerable  treasure  of  obser- 
vations made  of  diseased  bodies,  dis.sected  with  his  own 
hand.  Nor  did  he  lose  any  of  his  spare  hours :  as  ap- 
pears by  many  historical  papers  relating  to  theology,  left 
behind  him.  All  which,  though  they  have  been  long  sup- 
pressed, partly  through  his  own  great  modesty,  and  partly 
the  infirmities  of  his  latter  years,  which  permitted  him  to 
finish  but  few,  if  any,  of  them;  3'et  it  is  hoped,  that  some 
of  both  kinds  may  ere  long  see  the  light.  His  reading 
and  speculation  were  ever  in  order  unto  action.  By 
which  means,  as  he  became,  under  all  relations,  in  every 
station  of  his  life,  desirable  and  exemplary  unto  others ;  so 
he  cnjoj^ed  the  happiness  of  continual  peace  within.  And 
as  he  lived,  he  died;  his  last  hours  being  very  composed, 
and  concluding  with  that  ivOavaaia,  euthanasia,  for  which 
he  had  often  prayed. 


A     DISCOURSE 

CONCERNING  THE 

REDEEMER'S  DOMINION  OVER  THE  INVISIBLE   WORLD, 

AND  THE  ENTRANCE  THEREINTO  BY  DEATH. 

SOME  PART  WHEREOF  WAS  PREACHED  ON  OCCASION  OF  THE  DEATH  OF  JOHN  HOGHTON,  ESa 

ELDEST  SON  OF  SIR  CHARLES  HOGHTON,  OF  HOGHTON  TOWER,  IN  THE 

COUNTY  OF  LANCASTER,  BARONET. 


TO  THE  MOST  DESERVEDLY  HONOURED  AND  TRULY  HONOURABLE 

SIR  CHARLES  AND  THE  LADY  MARY  HOGHTON, 

OF  HOGHTON  TOWER. 
Grace,  mercy,  and  peace,  &c. 

Yon  will,  I  know,  covmt  it  no  indecency,  that,  when  God  hath  so  nearly,  many  years  ago,  joined  you  in  relation,  In 
affection,  and  now  so  lately,  in  the  affliction  equally  common  to  you  both,  I  do  also  join  your  names  on  the  same 
paper,  and  make  this  solemn  address  to  you  together. 

It  is  by  the  inestimable  favour  of  Heaven,  that  the  mutual  interest  God  hath  given  you  in  each  other,  as  it  obligeth, 
d>th  also  (as  I  have  great  reason  to  hope)  effectually  dispose  and  enable  you  so  not  only  to  partake  in  the  comforts, 
but  in  the  sorrows,  that  are  common  to  you  both,  as  that  the  former  shall  be  greatly  increased,  and  the  latter  propor- 
tionably  allayed  and  mitigated,  thereby.  Thus  is  the  advantage  of  your  conjugal  state  both  represented  in  God's  de- 
signation, and  apprehended  in  your  own  experience. 

And  you  are  to  consider  the  blessing  of  God  herein  as  having  a  peculiarity  in  it,  not  being  extended  to  all  so  related, 
neither  to  all  that  were  great  in  this  world,  nor  to  all  that  were  pious  and  good.  Great  worldly  felicity  hath  been 
rendered  insipid  and  spiritless,  great  calamities  much  the  more  bitter,  by  the  want  of  a  meet  mutual  helpfulness  be- 
tween such  relations. 

A  great  and  a  good  man,*  in  his  time,  a  prince,  as  he  is  thought  to  have  been,  in  his  country ;  "  a  man  that  was  per- 
fect and  upright,  one  that  feared  God,  and  eschewed  evil ;"  when  he  lost  not  one,  not  the  eldest  only,  of  his  numerous 
offspring,  (as  you  have,)  but  all  at  once,  seven  sons  and  three  daughters,  with  such  concomitant  circumstances  of  ac- 
cumulated afflictions,  as,  blessed  be  God,  are  not  in  your  case  ;  and  might  now  expect  some  relief  from  his  other  self, 
the  nearest  and  most  inward  companion  of  his  life,  and  partaker  of  his  joys  and  sorrows;  all  the  succour  he  had  from 
her,  was  an  impious  endeavour  to  provoke  and  irritate  his  spirit ;  that  taunting  scoff,  "  Dost  thou  still  retain  thy  in- 
tegrity 1"  and  that  horrid  advice,  "Curse  God  and  die."  "Whereas  that  rational,  religions,  soul-composing  thought, 
"  Shall  we  receive  good  things  at  the  hand  of  God,  and  not  also  evil  things?"  was  deeply  fixed  in  the  mind  of  the  one  . 
how  much  more  effectually  relieving  had  it  been,  if  it  had  circulated  between  both  the  relatives;  and  they  had  alter- 
nately propounded  and  enlarged  upon  it  to  one  another  ! 

With  you,  I  cannot  doubt,  it  hath  been  so  ;  and  that  you  have  made  ii.  your  business  to  improve  your  mutual  interest, 
not  to  aggravate,  but  to  alleviate  your  affliction  each  to  other. 

You  have  both  of  you  great  occasion  and  obligation  to  revolve  and  recount  to  each  other  the  many  good  things  you 
have  received  at  the  hand  of  God,  to  mitigate  what  there  is  of  evil  in  this  dispensation. 

Both  of  you  have  sprung  of  religious  and  honourable  families,  favoured  of  God,  valued  and  beloved  in  the  countries 
where  he  had  planted  them.     They  have  been  both  seats  of  religion,  and  of  the  worship  of  God  :  the  resorts  of  his  ser- 

ants:  houses  of  mercy  to  the  indigent,  of  justice  to  the  vicious,  of  patronage  to  the  sober  and  virtuous,  of  good  ex- 
ample to  all  about  them. 

You  were  both  dedicated  to  God  early,  and  he  gave  early  testimony  of  his  accepting  the  dedication.  He  began 
with  you  both  betimes,  blessing  your  education,  and  owning  you  for  his,  by  disposing  and  forming  your  spirits  to  own 
betin  ps  the  God  of  your  fathers.  He  hath  blessed  you  indeed,  adding  the  spiritual  blessings  in  heavenly  things  to 
your  many  earthly  comforts.  Which  Jabez  might  mean,  not  content  with  a  common  blessing;  and  the  more  proba- 
bly, from  the  acceptance  he  found,  1  Chron.  iv.  9,  10.  God  granted  his  request,  as  Solomon's,  when  his  request  was 
as  little  vulgar,  1  Kings  iii.  10. 

You  both  concurred  in  the  dedication  of  this  ycur  son,  as  in  the  rest  of  yonrs ;  and  I  doubt  not  with  great  serious- 
ness, 5'ou  covenanted  with  God  in  Christ,  to  be  his  God.  And  if  he  enabled  you  to  be  in  good  earnest  herein,  even 
that  was  of  special  grace  and  favour,  and  ought  to  come  into  the  account  of  the  many  good  things  you  have  received 
of  God's  hand  ;  as  offering  to  God  willingly  did  in  the  estimate  of  David,  when  the  oblation  was  of  a  meaner  kind, 
1  Chron.  xxix.  14. 

But  then  you  ought  to  consider,  what  the  import  and  meaning  was  of  that  your  covenant,  wherein  you  accepted  God 
in  Christ  to  be  the  God  of  your  so.i  ;  and  dedicated  him  to  God  through  Christ  to  be  his.     Was  it  not  absolute,  and 

»  Job  i.  1. 


DEDICATION.  307 

without  limitation,  that  God  should  be  a  God  to  him  entirely  and  without  reserve,  and  that  he  should  be  his  absolutely, 
and  be  disposed  of  by  him  at  his  pleasure'?  Otherwise,  there  was  a  repugnancy  and  contradiction  in  the  very  terms 
of  your  covenant.  To  be  a  God  to  him  !  Is  not  God  the  name  of  a  Beinj^  incapable  of  limitation  1  Doth  it  not  sig- 
nify infinite,  unlimited  power  and  goodness  ?  To  be  a  God  to  any  one,  therefore,  under  restriction,  is  to  be  a  God  \o 
him,  and  no  God.  And  so  to  covenant  with  God,  can  neither  have  sincerity  in  it,  nor  good  sense.  He  can  be  under 
no  restraint  in  the  exercises  of  his  power  and  gooaness  towards  any  to  whom  he  vouchsafes  to  be  their  God  in  cove- 
nant; but  what  he  is  pleased  to  lay  upon  himself,  which  must  be  from  his  own  wisdom  and  good  pleasure,  to  which 
in  covenanting  we  refer  ourselves;  with  particular  i'diiih. — in  reference  to  what  he  hath  expressly  promised;  and  with 
general — that  all  shall  be  well,  where  his  promise  is  not  express.  But  from  ourselves,  nothing  can  be  prescribed  to 
him.  He  must  be  our  all,  or  nothing  ;  in  point  of  enjoyment,  as  our  sovereign,  all-comprehending  good ;  in  point  of 
government,  as  our  sovereign,  all-disposing  Lord.  So  we  take  him,  in  covenanting  with  him  for  ourselves  and  ours : 
for  he  sij  propounds  and  otfers  himself  to  us.  If  we  accept  and  take  him  accordingly,  there  is  a  covenant  between 
him  an;,  us  ;  otherwise  we  refuse  him,  and  there  is  no  covenant.  When  he  promises,  as  to  his  part,  he  promise.-  hi.-> 
all  ;  to  be  God  all-sutficient  to  us  ;  to  be  ours  in  all  his  fulness,  according  lo  our  measure  and  capacity  :  we  are  not 
straitenei  in  him,  but  in  ourselves.  He  undertakes  to  be  to  us,  and  do  for  us,  all  that  it  belongs  to  him,  as  a  G.  ',  to 
be  and  do.  To  give  us  ♦  grace  and  glory,  about  which,  there  can  be  no  dispute  or  doubt :  they  are  always  and  immu- 
tably good ;  and  to  withhold  from  us  no  good  things:  here,  are  comprehended,  with  the  former,  inferior  good  things, 
aboiit  which,  because  they  are  but  mutably,  and  not  always  good,  there  may  be  a  doubt,  whether  now,  and  in  present 
circumstances,  they  will  be  good  for  us,  or  no.  And  now,  it  belongs  to  him,  as  he  is  to  do  the  part  of  a  God  to  us,  to 
judge  and  determine  for  us,  (for  which  he  alone  is  competent,  as  being  God  onl}'  wise,  and  otherwise  he  were  not  God 
all-sufficient,)  and  not  to  leave  that  lo  us,  who  are  so  apt  to  be  partial  and  mistaken  in  our  judgment. 

But  when  he  makes  his  demand  from  us,  of  what  we  on  our  part  are  to  be,  and  do,  he  demands  our  all,  absolutely  ; 
that  we  surrender  ourselves  and  ours,  whatsoever  we  are  and  have,  to  his  pleasure  and  dispose,  without  other  excep- 
tion or  restriction  than  by  his  promise  he  hath  laid  upon  himself. 

Nor  are  we  to  think  it  strange  there  should  be  this  difference,  in  the  tenor  of  his  covenant,  between  his  part  and  ours. 
For  we  are  to  remember,  that  the  covenant  between  him  and  us  is  not  as  of  equals.  He  covenants  as  God ;  we,  as 
creatures:  He,  according  to  the  universal,  infinite  perfection  and  all-sufficiency  of  a  God ;  we,  according,  to  the  insuf- 
ficiency, imperfection,  and  indigency  of  creatures. 

These  things  were,  I  doubt  not,  all  foreknown,  and  I  hope  considered,  by  you,  when  you  so  solemnly  transacted 
with  God,  concerning  this  your  son;  wherein  you  could  not  but  then  take  him  for  your  God,  as  well  as  his  God.  It 
needs  now  cniy  to  be  applied  to  the  present  case  ;  and  it  manifestly  admits  this  application,  viz.  That  this  his  disposal 
of  him,  in  taking  him  now  up  to  himself,  to  be  glorified  by  him,  and  to  glorify  him  in  the  heavenly  state,  was  a  thing 
then  agreed  upon  by  solemn  covenant,  between  God  and  you.  It  was  done  by  your  own  virtual  and  unretracted  con- 
sent. The  substance  of  the  thing  was  agreed  to  expressly  ;  that  God  should  be  his  God,  and  finally  make  him  happy 
and  blessed  in  himself  But  if  you  say,  you  would  only  have  had  his  complete  blessedness  yet  a  while  deferred ; 
I  will  only  say.  Could  you  agree  with  that  God  whose  he  was,  and  whose  you  are,  about  the  substance  of  so  great  a 
transaction  ;  and  now  differ  with  him  about  a  circumstance  1  And  besides,  all  circumstances  must  be  comprehended 
in  your  agreement.  For,  taking  him  to  be  your  God,  you  take  him  to  be  supreme  Disposer  in  all  things,  and  his  will 
to  be  in  every  thing  the  rule  and  measure  of  yours;  which  you  have  expressly  consented  to  as  often  as  you  have 
prayed,  either  in  the  words,  or  after  the  tenor,  of  that  prayer,  wherein  our  Lord  hath  taught  us  to  sum  up  our  desires, 
and  represent  the  sense  of  our  hearts. 

But  besides  the  duty  that  is,  both  by  his  law,  and  by  covenant-agreement,  owing  to  God,  it  is  also  to  be  considered 
as  a  high  dignity  put  upon  yoa,  to  be  the  covenanted  parents  of  a  glorified  son  ;  a  matter  of  greater  boast,  than  if  you 
could  say,  "  Our  son"  (to  repeat  what  I  formerly  wrote)  "  is  one  of  the  greatest  princes  on  earth  !" 

How  far  should  paganism  be  outdone  Iry  Christianity,  which  exhibits  to  our  view  death  abolished,  life  and  immor- 
tality brought  to  light,  by  Jesus  Christ,  in  the  Gospel !  2  Tim.  i.  10.  "Which  sets  before  us  all  the  glories  of  the  other 
world  in  a  bright  representation  !  Which,  if  we  believe,  that  faith  will  be  to  us  the  substance  of  what  we  hope  for, 
and  the  evidence  of  what  we  see  not.  Thus,  though  you  saw  not  the  kind  reception  and  abundant  entrance  of  this  son 
of  your  delights  into  the  everlasting  kingdom,  it  will  yet  be  a  thing  evident  to  you,  and  your  faith  will  render  it  a 
great  and  most  substantial  reality.  Pagans  had  but  obscure  glimmerings  of  such  things  ;  and  in  such  afflicting  cases, 
when  they  have  occurred,  comparatively  lank  and  .slender  supports;  yet  such  as  were  not  to  be  despised. 

Should  I  transcribe  what  I  find  written  in  way  of  consolatio'n,  by  Plutarch  to  Apollonius,  upon  the  loss  of  a  son,  you 
would  see  what  would  give  both  instruction  and  admiration.  I  shall  mention  some  passages.  He  praises  the  young 
person  deceased,  for  his  comeliness,  sobriety,  piety,  dutifulness  towards  parents,  obligingness  towards  friends ;  acknow- 
ledges that  sorrow,  in  the  case  of  losing  such  a  son,  hath  {>pv<T.Khv  lipx''")  ^  principle  in  nature,  and  is  of  the  things  thai 
are  {ovk  i(p'  jV''")  not  in  our  poioer,  or  which  we  cannot  help ;  that  to  be  destitute  of  it  is  neither  possible  nor  fit ;  that 
an  apathy,  or  insensibleness,  in  such  a  case,  is  no  more  desirable  than  that  we  should  endure  to  have  a  limb,  a  part  of 
ourselves,  cut  or  torn  oflTfrom  us,  without  feeling  it.  But  yet  affirms,  that  immoderate  sorrow,  upon  such  an  occasion, 
is  (tuoo  (pvcriv)  preternatural,  and  hath  a  pravity  in  it,  and  proceeds  from  a  misinformed  mind  :  that  we  ought  in  any 
such  case  to  be  neither  {inraBeii,  nor  ^va-naQni')  uimffccted,  nor  ill  affected.  He  tells  his  friend  a  story  (the  meaning 
whereof  is  more  considerable  to  us,  than  the  credit  of  it,  as  perhaps  it  was  to  him)  concerning  two  Grecian  youths, 
Cleobis  and  Biton,  whose  mother  having  a  duty  to  perform  in  the  temple  of  .Tuno,  and  the  mules  not  being  at  hand,  in 
the  instant  when  she  expected  them  to  draw  her  chariot  thither,  they  most  officiously  drew  it  themselves  ;  with  which 
act  of  piety,  their  mother  was  so  transported,  that  she  made  her  request  to  Juno,  on  their  behalf,  that  if  there  were  any 
thing  more  desirable  unto  mortals  than  other,  she  would  therewith  reward  her  sons  ;  who,  thereupon,  threw  them  into 
a  sleep,  out  of  which  they  awaked  no  more :  thereby  signifying,  that  death  was  the  best  gift  that  could  be  bestowed 
upon  persons  of  such  supposed  piety  as  they! 

To  which  purpose,  is  what  he  relates  concerning  the  death  of  Euthraous,  an  Italian,  referred  to  towards  the  close 
of  the  following  discourse,  son  and  heir  to  the  ample  estate  of  Elysius,  a  person  of  principal  dignity  amc  ng  the  Teri- 
nae.ans;  to  whom,  anxiously  inquiring  of  diviners  concerning  the  cause  of  this  calamity,  the  spectre  of  his  son,  intro- 
duced by  the  father  of  the  latter,  appeared  in  his  sleep,  showing  him  certain  Greek  verses,  the  sum  whereof  was.  Thy 
inquiry  was  foolish. 

The  minds  of  men  are  vain,  Euthvnous  rests  by  a  kindly  decreed  death, 
Because  his  living  longer  had  neither  been  good  for  him  nor  his  parents. 

He  afterwards  adds,  A  good  man,  when  he  dies,  is  worthy,  not  so  much  of  lamentations,  as  of  hymns  and  praises. 

He  animadverts  upon  the  aptness  of  parents  to  quarrel  with  any  circumstances  of  a  son's  death,  bo  they  what  they 
will.  If  he  die  abroad,  then  the  aggravation  is,  that  neither  the  father  nor  the  mother  had  opportunity  to  close  Ms 
eyes;  if  at  home,  then.  How  is  he  plucked  away,  even  out  of  our  hands  ! 

»  Ps.  l.\.\xiv.  u 


308  DEDICATION. 

He  gives  divers  memorable  instances,  of  sundry  great  persons,  bearing,  with  strange  composure  of  mind,  the  same 
kind  of  affliction  ;  1  umit  what  he  wrote  to  his  wife  on  their  loss  of  a  child  ;  as  also  to  recite  many  very  instructive 
passages  out  of  Seneca  writing  to  Marcia,  on  the  same  account,  viz.  by  way  of  consolation  for  her  loss  of  a  son,  and 
to  Helvia,  for  her  loss  in  the  same  kind;  to  Polybius,  having  lost  a  near  relation,  &c. 

But  we  have  the  oracles  of  God,  and  do,  too  commonly,  less  need  to  receive  instruction  from  Heathens  than  deserve 
to  be  reproached  by  them ;  that  there  is  so  frequent  cause  for  the  complaint  of  that  ancient  worthy  *  in  the  Christian 
church  ;  Non  prccdat  fides  quod  prccslitit  infidelitas — 7%e  infidelity  of  pagans  perfonns  greater  things  than  the  faith, 
of  Christians.  Their  sedate  temper,  their  mastery  over  turbulent  passions,  n>ay  in  many  instances  shame  our  impo- 
ency  and  want  of  self-government,  in  like  cases. 

For  who  of  them  have  ever  had,  or  could  have,  so  great  a  thing  to  say,  as  is  said  to  us  by  the  word  of  the  Lord, 
1  Thess.  iv.  13.  for  this  very  purpose,  "  that  we  may  not  sorrow  conc-erning  them  that  are  asleep,  even  as  others  who 
have  no  hope :"  i.  e.  ver.  14.  "  If  we  believe  that  Jesus  died,  and  rose  again,  even  so,  them  also  which  sleep  in  Jesus 
will  God  bring  with  him.  For  (ver.  15.)  this  we  say  to  you,"  (and  'tis  said  by  the  forementioned  authority ;  the  Lord 
himself  having  revealed  it  to  this  great  apostle,  and  directed  him  to  say  it,)  "  that  we  who  are  alive,  and  remain  unto 
the  coming  of  the  Lord,  shall  not  prevent  them  which  are  asleep."  Ver.  16.  "  For  (he  Lord  himself  shall  descend  from 
heaven  with  a  shout,  with  the  voice  of  the  archangel,  and  with  the  trump  of  God  ;  and  the  dead  in  Christ  shall  rise  first." 
Ver.  17.  "  Then  we  which  are  alive,  and  remain,  shall  be  caught  up,  together  with  them,  in  the  clouds,  to  meet  the 
Lord  in  the  air  :  and  so  shall  we  ever  be  with  the  Lord."     Ver.  18.  "  Wherefore  comfort  one  another  with  these  words." 

I  have  transcribed  these  few  verses,  that  they  might  readily  appear  to  present  view.  And  because  all  their  efficacy, 
and  all  our  advantage  by  them,  depend  upon  our  believing  them,  let  us  closely  put  the  question  to  ourselves,  Do  we 
believe  them,  or  do  we  not  1  The  apostle  seems  to  design  the  putting  us  upon  this  self-reflection,  ver.  14.  by  inserting 
the  supposition,  Jfjoe  believe,  q.  d.  This  will  effectually  do  the  business  of  allaying  all  our  hopeless  sorrow.  For  if  we 
believe  that  one  fundamental  truth,  (and  therefore  let  us  see  whether  we  do  or  no,)  of  Christ's  dying  and  rising  again, 
it  will  draw  such  a  train  of  consequences,  all  tending  to  fill  our  souls  with  a  vital  joy,  as  will  leave  no  place  for  undue 
sorrow  any  longer.  That  faith  will  be  still  urging  and  carrying  us  forward,  will  make  us  wholly  intent  upon  pros- 
pect and  expectation.  What  are  we  now  to  look  for  upon  such  a  foundation,  so  firmly  laid,  and  fully  believed  1  If 
we  believe  that  Jesus  died  !  He  did  not  submit  to  die  without  a  design  ;  and  his  rising  again,  speaks  him  master  of 
his  design,  and  that  he  hath  it  now  entirely  in  his  power.  He  died  not  for  himself,  but  for  them  he  was  to  redeem  ! 
And  being  now  risen  again,  what  must  become  of  them  1     All  that  follows,  is  now  matter  of  glorious  triumph  ! 

If  Plato,  Plutarch,  or  Seneca,  had  but  once  had  such  a  revelation  from  heaven  as  this,  and  had  that  ground  to  be- 
lieve it  that  we  have,  ho\v  full  would  their  writings  have  been  of  it !  How  had  they  abounded  in  lofty  paraphrases 
upon  every  period  and  word  of  it ! 

The  faith  of  such  things  would  surely  make  a  trul}^  Christian  heart  so  earnestly  press  forward  in  the  expectation  of 
the  great  things  still  to  ensue,  as  to  leave  it  little  leisure  for  retrospection.  And  this  is  the  source  of  all  our  intempe- 
rate sorrow,  in  such  a  case  as  this — our  framing  to  ourselves  pleasing  suppositions  of  being  as  we  were,  with  such  and 
such  friends  and  relatives  about  us  as  we  heretofore  enjoined.  As  hope  of  what  is  future  and  desirable  feeds  our  joy; 
so  memory  of  good  things  past  doth  our  sorrow.  In  such  a  case  as  this,  which  the  apostle  here  speaks  to,  the  decease 
of  our  dear  friends  and  relatives  fallen  asleep,  we  are  apt  to  look  back  with  a  lingering  e)'e  upon  that  former  state  of 
things,  and  to  say,  as  he,  O  mihi  preteritos — O  that  God  would  recall  for  me  the  years  that  are  gone  over  ! — Or,  as  in  sa- 
cred language,  "  O  that  I  were  as  in  months  past — when  the  t secret  of  God  was  upon  my  tabernacle;  when  the 
Almighty  was  yet  with  me;  when  my  children  were  about  mc  !" 

What  pleasant  scenes  do  we  form  to  ourselves  afresh,  of  past  things,  on  purpose  to  foment  present  sorrow!  And 
whether  we  have  that  design  or  no,  we  are  more  prone  to  look  back  to  former  things  we  have  known,  than  forward 
to  future  we  know  not ;  especially,  if  the  further  we  look  back  the  less  we  find  of  trouble  intermingled  in  our 
former  course.  A  smooth  and  pleasant  path  we  would  go  over  again,  if  reason  and  the  necessity  of  afiairs  do  not 
recall  us,  and  urge  us  forward. 

And  so.  Sir,  might  you  find  matter  for  a  very  copious  and  not  ungrateful  recollection,  to  call  over  again,  and  re- 
volve in  your  thoughts,  the  pleasures  of  your  youth,  (more  innocent  than  of  many  others,)  when  you  were  encumber- 
ed with  no  cares,  entertained  with  various  delights  of  one  sort  and  another,  in  this  or  that  pleasant  seat  of  your  pa- 
riQts.  But  how  remote  is  it  from  you,  upon  consideration,  to  wish  yourself  back  into  your  juvenile  state  and  circum- 
stances !  How  much  more  generous  and  Godlike  pleasure  is  it,  to  be  doing  good  in  the  world,  and  still  to  abound 
therein ;  to  go  forward,  and  do  still  more  and  more  ! 

And,  Madam,  who  could  have  a  more  pleasant  retrospect  upon  former  days  than  you'?  recounting  your  Antrim  de- 
lights, the  delight  you  took  in  your  excellent  relations,  your  garden-delights,  your  closet-delights,  j^our  Lord's-days  de- 
lights !  But  how  a  much  greater  thing  is  it  to  serve  God  in  your  present  station  ;  as  the  mother  of  a  numerous  and 
hopeful  offspring ;  as  the  mistress  of  a  large  family ;  where  you  bear  your  part,  with  your  like-minded  consort,  in  sup- 
porting the  interest  of  God  and  religion,  and  have  opportunity  of  scattering  blessings  round  about  you! 

But  our  business  is  not  recurring,  or  looking  back.  God  is  continually  calling  us  forward.  Time  is  a  stream  run- 
ning on  towards  the  vast  ocean.  Tending  backward,  is  vain  striving  against  the  stream.  And  as  it  is  the  course  and 
method  of  nature,  of  providence,  and  grace,  to  tend  forward,  and  carry  us  from  less  to  greater  things  in  this  world; 
so  do  all  these  conspire  to  carry  us  on  (because  our  av/i?;,  our  highest  pitch,  cannot  be  here)  to  yet  far  greater  things  in 
the  greater  world.  Of  which  vast  world,  it  is  the  design  of  the  following  discourse  to  give  you  some  account ;  though, 
God  knows,  it  is  but  a  very  imperfect  one.  Such  as  it  is,  if  God  only  make  it  an  occasion  to  you,  of  fixing  your 
minds  and  hearts  upon  that  mighty  theme,  you  will  find  it  easy  and  pleasant  to  you  to  amplify  upon  it  and  enlarge  it 
to  yourselves.  And  thereby,  through  God's  blessing,  I  doubt  not,  arrive  to  a  fulness  oi'  satisfaction  concerning  this 
late  dispensation,  which  hath  a  gloominess  upon  it ;  but  is  in  very  deed  only  gloom}^  on  one  side,  viz.  downwards, 
and  towards  this  wretched  world,  this  region  of  sorrow  and  darkness  :  but  on  the  side  upwards,  and  towards  that  other 
world  which  casts  its  lu.stre  upon  it,  its  phasis  and  appearance  will  be  altogether  bright  and  glorious.  And  the  more 
you  look  by  a  believing  intuition  into  that  other  world  where  our  blessed  Redeemer  and  Lord  hears  rule  in  so  tran- 
scendent glory,  the  more  will  you  be  above  all  the  cloudy  darkness  of  this  event  of  Providence  towards  yourselves 
and  your  family.  Herein  your  perusal  of  this  very  defective  essay  may  be  of  some  use  to  you.  And  I  reckoned  it 
might  be  of  more  lasting  and  permanent  use  to  you,  and  yours  after  you,  and  to  as  many  others  into  whose  hands  it 
might  fall,  as  a  little  book,  than  as  one  single  sermon. 

You  will,  however,  I  doubt  not,  apprehend  in  it  the  sincere  desire  to  assist  you  in  this  your  present  difiicult  trial ; 
followed  by  the  faithful  endeavour  of. 

Most  honoured  in  the  Lord, 
Your  very  respectful  and  obliged  servant, 

in  him,  and  for  his  sake,  JOHN  HOWE. 

•  Hierom.  t  Job  xxu.  1—5. 


THB 


REDEEMER'S   DOMINION,  &c. 


REV.  I.  18. 

AND  HAVE  THE  KEYS  OF  HELL  (haDES,  OR  THE  UNSEEN  WORLd)  AND  OF  DEATH. 


The  peculiar  occasion  of  this  present  solemnity  (I  mean, 
;hat  is  additional  to  the  usual  business  of  the  Lord's  day) 
may  be  somewhat  amusing  to  narrower  and  less  consider- 
ing minds;  i.  e.  That  I  am  now  to  take  notice  to  you  of 
'what  the  most  would  call)  the  premature  or  untimely 
death  of  a  most  hopeful  young  gentleman,  the  heir  of  a 
very  considerable  family,  greatly  prepared  by  parts  and 
pious  sentiments,  and  further  preparing  by  study  and  con- 
versation, to  be  useful  to  the  age,  cut  off  in  his  prime,  when 
the  mere  showing  him  « to  the  world  had  begun  to  raise 
an  expectation,  in  such  as  knew  him,  of  somewhat  more 
than  ordinary  hereafter  from  him,  his  future  advantageous 
circumstances  being  considered,  of  which  you  will  hear 
further  towards  the  close  of  this  discourse. 

Nor  did  I  know  any  passage  in  the  whole  sacred  volume, 
more  apt  to  serve  the  best  and  most  valuable  purpose  in 
such  a  case,  than  the  words  now  read  ;  none  more  fitted  to 
enlarge  our  minds,  to  compose  them,  and  reduce  to  a  due 
temper  even  theirs  who  are  most  concerned,  and  most 
liabl'^  CO  be  disturbed,  or  to  instruct  us  all  how  to  interpret 
and  comment  aright  upon  so  perplexing  and  so  intricate  a 
providence  as  this,  at  the  first  and  slighter  view,  may  seem 
unto  us. 

In  order  whereto,  our  business  must  be  to  explain  and 
apply  this  most  weighty  awful  saying, 

First,  For  the  explication,  these  three  things  are  to  be 
inquired  into. 

I.  Who  it  is  that  claims  and  asserts  to  himself  this 
power  here  spoken  of 

II.  What  it  is  about  which  this  claimed  power  is  to  be 
conversant. 

III.  What  sort  of  power  it  is  that  this  emblematical  ex- 
pression signifies  to  belong  to  him. 

I.  Who  it  is  that  claims  the  power  here  spoken  of; 
where  the  inquiry  is  not  so  much  concerning  the  person 
that  makes  this  claim,  which  all  the  foregoing  context 
puts  out  of  question  to  be  our  Lord  Christ ;  but  touch- 
ing the  special  notion  and  capacity  wherein  he  claims  it, 
and  according  whereto  it  must  be  understood  to  belong  to 
him. 

And  whereas  he  is  described  by  very  distinct  titles  and 
attributes,  promiscuously  interwoven  in  the  preceding 
verses  of  the  chapter,  viz.  that  sometimes  he  is  introduced 
speaking  in  the  style  of  a  God;  (as  v.  8.  I  am  Alpha  and 
Omega,  the  beginning  and  the  ending,  saith  the  Lord, 
which  is,  and  which  was,  and  which  is  to  come,  the  Al- 
mighty. And  again,  v.  IL  I  am  Alpha  and  Omega  ;)  but 
that  sometimes  he  is  represented  in  the  form  of  a  man, 
and  accordingly  described  even  from  head  to  foot,  and 
a  Ostendunt  terns  hunc  tantum,  fata  nee  ultra  ease  sinunt. 

24 


said  to  appear  in  the  vision  that  exhibits  him  as  one  .iKe 
unto  the  Son  of  man,  that  we  might  certainly  understand 
him  so  to  be,  v.  13 — 16.  And  such  things  said  of  him  as 
are  incident  to  a  mortal  man,  the  sheddmgof  his  blood,  ■». 
5.  and  that  he  was  dead,  v.  IS,  fonner  part.  Yea,  and  ex- 
pressions of  this  different  import  intermingled,  that  we 
might  know  it  was  the  same  Person  that  was  continually 
spoken  of  under  these  so  vastly  different  characters  ;  as,  I 
am  the  first  and  the  last;  I  am  he  that  liveth  and  was 
dead,  v.  17,  18.  We  may  thereupon  very  reasonably  con- 
clude that  he  is  not  here  to  be  conceived  under  the  one  no- 
tion or  the  other,  neither  as  God  nor  as  man,  separately 
or  exclusively  of  each  other  ;  but  as  both  together,  as  Gf-h- 
dptoKOf,  as  God-man,  under  which  conjunct  notion,  he  re- 
ceives and  sustains  the  office  of  our  Redeemer,  and  Medi- 
ator between  God  and  man. 

Which  will  enable  us  the  more  clearly  to  answer  the 
third  inquir)',  when  we  come  to  it,  concerning  the  kind  of 
that  power  Avhich  is  here  claimed;  and  which,  because 
there  can  be  no  doubt  of  the  justice  of  his  claim,  we  are 
hereby  taught  to  ascribe  to  him. 

For  the  management  whereof,  we  are  also  hence  to 
reckon  him  every  way  competent ;  that  he  was  parvegotio, 
that  it  was  not  too  big  for  him :  no  expressions  being  used 
to  signify  his  true  humanity,  but  which  are  joined  with 
others,  as  appropriate  to  deity.  And  that  nothing  therefore 
obliges  us  to  narrow  it  more  than  the  following  account 
imports,  which  we  are  next  to  inquire  abotu  ;  viz. 

II.  The  large  extent  of  the  object  about  which  the  power 
he  here  claims  is  to  be  conversant;  i.  c.  Hades  (as  we  read 
hell,  but  which  is  truly  to  be  read  the  unseen  world)  and 
death. 

The  formerof  these  we,  with  a  debasing  limitation,  and 
(as  I  doubt  not  will  appear)  very  unreasonablv,  do  render 
hell. 

The  power  belonging  to  Christ,  we  are  elsewhere  taught 
to  conceive,  is  of  unspeakably  greater  latitude.  And  here 
we  are  not  taught  to  confine  it  to  so  vile  and  narrow  limits, 
as  this  translation  gives  it.  All  things  in  the  context  con- 
spire to  magnify  him,  and,  agreeably  hereto,  to  magnifj' 
his  dominion.  When  therefore  the  apparent  design  is  to 
speak  him  ureal,  that  he  should  only  be  represented  as  the 
Jailer  of  devils,  and  their  companions,  is.  tome,  unaccount- 
able; unless  a  very  manifest  necessity  did  induce  to  it. 

For  the  word  '',^t<:,  there  can  be  no  pretence  for  it. 
Though  it  ought  to  be  extended,  it  is  by  no  means  to  be  re- 
strained to  that  sense ;  which  as  it  is  the  ignoblest,  so  it 
will  appear  but  a  very  small,  minute  part  of  its  significa- 
tion ;  whether  we  consider  the  literal  import,  or  the  com- 
mon use,  of  the  word. 


3HJ 


THE  REDEEMER'S  DOMINION 


Literally,  it  signifies  but  what  we  see  not,  or  what  is 
out  of  our  sight.  And  as  the  word  of  which  it  is  compound- 
ed signifies  also  to  know,  as  well  as  to  see,  it  may  lurther 
signily,  thai  state  of  things  which  lies  without  the  compass 
of  our  knowledge,  even  out  of  the  reach  of  our  mental 
sight ;  or  concerning  which,  though  we  are  to  believe  what 
is  revealed,  we  cannot  immediately  or  distinctly  know  it; 
and  in  reference  whereto,  therefore,  we  are  to  walk  by 
faith,  not  by  sight,  2  Cor.  v.  7. 

And  the  common  use  of  the  word  hath  been  very  agree- 
able hereto,  with  the  writers  of  all  sorts ;  i.  e.  to  signify 
indefinitely  the  unseen  world  ;  or  the  state  of  the  deceased 
out  of  our  world,  who  are,  consequently,  gone  out  of  our 
sight,  whether  they  were  good  or  bad;  so  as  not  peculiarly 
to  signify  hell,  or  any  place  or  state  of  torment  only. 

It  were  easy  to  abound  in  quotations  to  this  purpose,  if 
It  were  either  needful  or  proper  in  a  discourse  of  this  na- 
ture. 

What  I  intend  in  this  kind,  I  shall  only  set  dawn  on  the 
bye  in  the  margin,  upon  which  they  that  will  may  cast 
their  eye  ;  b  that  the  discourse  be  not  interrupted  as  to 
others,  that  either  have  no  need  to  be  informed  in  this 
matter,  having  known  as  much  before  as  can  be  now  told 
them ;  or  no  inclination  to  be  diverted  from  their  present 
purpose  in  reading;  apprehending  that  what  is  generally 
told  them,  only  concerning  the  usual  signification  of  a 
word,  is  not  said  without  some  ground.  And  let  texts  of 
Scripture  be  consulted  about  that,  how  hades,  and  the  cor- 
respondent word  in  the  Old  Testament,  sheol,  are  used 
there.  If  we  take  the  help  of  interpreters,  the  impartial 
reader  is  to  judge  of  their  fidelity  and  ability  who  go  our 
way.'^ 

Upon  the  whole,  it  being  most  evident  that  hell  is  but  a 
small  and  mean  part  of  what  is  signified  by  hades,  it  will 
be  very  unreasonable  to  represent  or  conceive  of  the 
power  here  ascribed  to  our  Lord,  according  to  that  nar- 
row notion  of  it.  And  would  be  a  like  incongruity,  as  if, 
to  magnify  the  person  of  highest  dignity  in  the  court  of  a 
mighty  prince,  one  should  say,  "  He  is  the  keeper  of  the 
dungeon." 

The  word  itself,  indeed,  properly  taken,  and  according 
to  its  just  extent,  mightily  greatens  him,  i.  e.  'lis  as  much 

b  And  here  it  may  suffice  to  take  notice,  that  Greek  writers,  poets,  philo.so- 
phers,  historian.^,  and  other  wrilors,  that  have  made  only  occasional  mention 
of  this  word  udm,  or  of  the  words  ne.\t  akin  to  it,  ati,  or  atSni,  or  lexicogra- 
phers, that  have  purposely  given  an  account  of  it,  from  Greek  authors,  that 
mu^t  bo  supposed  be.st  to  uJidcrstand  tlie  use  of  words  in  their  own  tongue  ; 
generally  such  as  have  not  been  engaged  in  a  contniversv,  that  obliges  men 
usually  to  tortui-e  words  to  tlieir  own  sense,  or  to  ^itm-  the  hypothesis  which 
they  had  espoused;  have  lieen  remote  from  cunliuini;  tins,  or  the  cognate 
words,  to  that  narrow  sense  as  only  to  signify  a  place  or  stale  of  torment  for 
bad  men,  but  understood  it  as  comprehending,  also,  a  state  of  felicity  for  the 
pious  and  gO(jd. 

For  such  as  have  been  concerned  in  interpreting  this  or  other  like  words  with 
reference  to  the  known  and  famous  controversy,  which  I  need  not  metition, 
their  judgments  must  weigh  according  to  tlie  reputation  they  are  of  with  the 
reader. 

The  Greeks  no  doubt,  best  understood  their  own  language.  And  among 
them  can  we  think  that  Ilomer  in  the  beginning  of  his  1  Iliad'y  when  he  speaks 
of  the  many  brave  souls  of  liis  heroes,  those  iipOijioi  ipvxai,  which  the  war  he 
is  describing  sent  into  the  invisible  regions,  aiii  7i/)0(ni//£r,  that  he  ever  dreamt 
they  were  all  promiscuously  despatched  away  to  a  place  of  tormenf  Not  to 
mention  otlier  passages  where  he  uses  I  lie  words  aim  to  the  same  purpose. 
Divers  others  of  the  Greek  poets  are  cited  by  several  ready  to  our  hands,  with 
which  I  shall  not  cumber  tliese  pages  That  one  is  enough,  and  nothing  can 
be  luller  to  our  purpose,  which  is  quoted  bv  Clem.  Alexand.  Str.  1.  5  as  well  as 
by  sum  ry  others,  and  ascribed  to  the  comic  Diphilus,  though  by  others  to  an- 
otlior  Philemon. 

Ki(  yap  KaQ'  nSriv  Svo  rpil^ovivojiii^Ojicv 
Miav  6iKaiu)v,  Kintpav  aaeffuiv  oian. 

In  hades  we  reckon  there  are  two  paths,  the  one  of  the  righteous,  the  other 
ol  the  wicked  :  plainly  showiiiL'  that  liaries  was  understood  to  contain  heaven 
and  hell.  Plato,  vvlwn  m  hi.;  Plnn/n  lie  tells  us  that  he  that  comes  into  hades, 
anunms  Km  arfXcs-"?,  not  iiHl„iti.,l  aiidduly  prepared,  is  thrown  into  Bofl/?o- 
flof,  a  stinking, ake.  hut  he  that  comes  into  it  fitly  puntied,  shall  dwell  with 
the  gods  ;  as  expressly  signihes  /lades  to  include  the  same  opposite  states  of 
mis«ry  and  felicity.  In  that  dialogue  called  Axiochus,  though  supposed  not  to 
be  his,  written  by  one  that  sufficiently  knew  the  meaning  of  such  a  word,  we 
are  told  that  when  men  die  they  are  brought  into  tlie  Utiiuv  aXr^detag,  the  field 
of  truth,  where  sit  judges  that  examine  Tiva  (iiiiv,  what  manner  of  life  every 
one  lived  while  he  dwelt  in  the  body,  that  they  who,  while  they  lived  here,  were 
inspired  by  a  good  ge^niiis  or  spirit,  go  into  the  resion  of  nious  men,  having  be- 
fijre  they  came  into  ft(w/es  been  purified.  Such  as  led  their  lives  wickedly  are 
hurried  by  tunes  up  and  down  chaos,  in  the  region  of  tlie  wicked  In  the  Ihhd 
Book  de  Repub  Plato  blames  the  poets  that  they  represent  the  state  of  things 
m/wte  too  frightfully,  when  they  should  /mXXoi/ ETrai-cir,  pr.aise  it  rather. 
P/imrchde  Su.perst.  bnngs  m  Plato  si.eaking  of  fwdes.  as  a  person  or  a  god, 
/)«,  or  P/«?o.  as  they  frequently  do,  and  says  he  is  (iX  nep-.jTr  .5,  beni:rn  or 
friemUytomen;  therefore  not  a  tormenlor  of  them  only.  Cce.UvsKhndii^in 
fiuoles  this  saiTie  passage  ol  Plutarch,  and  takes  no'ice  that  our  Saviour  speaks 
i;-l,'i  ?.  "*^?°™fnl  by  another  word,  not  hade^Mxt  Gehenna;  which  suffi- 
ciently shows  how  he  understood  it  himself 

„^^',.  '^J'J^e  ^^t^^  "^  "■'"'  ^^^V,^l  to  "'i^  notation  of  this  word,  that 
nak^-s  It  signify  unsieii  as  some  will  fetch  from  the  Hebrew,  ajid  go  as  far 


as  to  say.  His  dominion  is  of  unknown  limits;  such  as  no 
eye  can  measure.  We  think  with  a  sort  of  veneration,  of 
what  is  represented  as  too  big  for  our  knowledge.  We 
have  a  natural  awe  and  reverence  for  unsearchable  dark- 
ness. But  in  tlte  meantime  we  herein  suifer  a  just  dimi- 
nution of  ourselves,  that  when  our  inquiry  stops,  and  can 
proceed  no  further,  it  being  but  a  very  little  part  of  the 
universe  that  lies  within  our  compass,  having  tired  our 
inquiring  eye  and  mind  ;  upon  all  the  rest  we  write, 
Hades;  call  it  ii-nsccn,  or  wnknmcn.  And  because  we  call 
it  so,  in  reference  to  us,  God  himself  calls  it  so  too  ;  it  be- 
ing his  way,  (as  is  observed  by  that  noted  d  Jew)  speaking 
to  men,  to  use  the  tongue  of  the  children  of  men,  to  speak 
CO  them  in  their  own  language,  and  allow  them  10  coin 
their  own  words  :  which  at  first  they  often  do  very  occa- 
sionally ;  nor,  as  to  this,  could  they  have  a  fairer  or  a 
more  urgent  occasion,  or  that  is  more  self-justifying,  than 
in  one  word  to  say  of  that  other  world,  that  it  is  hades,  or 
invisible,  when  that  is  truly  all  that  they  have  to  say,  or 
can  have  an}'  immediate  notice  of  about  it. 

It  hath  therefore  its  rise  from  ourselves,  and  the  penury 
of  oitr  knowledge  of  things ;  and  is  at  once  both  an  inge- 
nuous confession,  with  some  sort  of  modest  cover,  and  ex- 
cuse of  our  own  ignorance :  as  with  geographers,  all  that 
part  of  this  globe  which  they  cannot  describe,  is  terra  in- 
cognila  ;  and  with  philosophers,  such  phenomena  in  na- 
ture as  they  can  give  no  account  of,  they  resolve  shortly 
and  in  the  most  compendious  way  into  some  or  other  oc- 
cult quality,  or  somewhat  else,  as  occult. 

How  happy  were  it,  if  in  all  matters  that  concern  reli- 
gion, and  in  this,  as  it  doth  so,  they  would  shut  up  in  a 
sacred  venerable  darkness  what  they  cannot  distinctly 
perceive;  it  being  once  by  the  undeceiving  word  expressly 
asserted  that  it  is,  without  therefore  denying  its  reality, 
because  they  clearly  apprehend  not  what  it  is. 

With  too  many  their  religion  is  so  little,  and  their  pride 
and  self-conceit  so  great,  that  they  think  themselves  fit  to 
be  standards ;  that  their  eye  or  mind  is  of  a  size  large 
enough  to  measure  the  creation,  yea,  and  the  Creator  too. 
And  by  how  much  they  have  the  less  left  them  of  mind,  or 
the  more  it  is  sunk  into  earth  and  carnality,  the  more  ca- 
pable it  is  of  being  the  measure  of  all  reality,  of  taking 

back  aa  Adam  in  their  search,  alleging  for  this  the  authority  of  an  old  sibyl, 
will  have  it  go  for  a')o»)s,  and  signify  as  aTCpTrris,  unpleasant ;  nothing  is, 
plainer  than  that  this  other  is  the  common  notion,  w  hich  (though  fancy  hath 
not  a  greater  dominion  in  any  thing  than  in  etjmology)  would  make  one  shy  ol 
stretching  invention  to  find  now  to  difl'er  from  the  generality.  Therefore  Cale- 
pin,  upon  this  word,  tells  us  that  the  Greek  grammarians  do,  against  the  na- 
ture of  the  EtytiKni,  (which  plainly  enough  shows  what  they  understood  that 
to  be,)  generally  direct  its  beginning  to  be  written  with  the  asper  spirit,  but  yet 
he  makes  it  signify  obscure,  or  not  visible.  And  though  Plato  is  endeavoured 
to  be  hooked  in  to  the  deriving  it  from  Adam  ty  a  very  far  fetch  ;  yet  it  is  plain 
that  his  calling  it  roiruv  a6ri\ov,  in  a  place  bef(>re  referred  to,  shows  he  under- 
stood it  to  signify  invisible;  and  so  lexicons  will  commonly  derive  it  (Ytilgo, 
says  Ceelius  Rhodig.)  But  its  extensiveness,  as  comprehending  a  state  ol 
happiness,  is  our  principal  concern,  which  way  (as  we  might  show  by  many 
more  instances)  the  common  stream  carries  it  Pausanias  in  his  'APKAiil- 
KA.  speakingof  Hermes  (according  to  Homer)  as  Aiof  <!ia*0'ni/,  and  that  he 
dill  l,"ad  souis  "to  tov  fSl",  could  not  be  thought  to  mean  that  they  were  then 
univrr-ally  miserable.  Sext  Empir.  is  an  authority  good  enough  for  the  mean- 
ing of  a  Greek  word.  When  (Adversus  Mat  hem  )  he  tells  us,  though  by  way 
of  objection,  all,meu  have  a  common  notion  ircpi  tmv  tv  aiiv,  (using  the  gen- 
itive wilh  ti,  as  Homer  and  others  do,  another  word,  house  or  abode,  in  the 
dative,  belng,understood,)  and  yet,  as  to  the  Ihing,  he  afterwards  distinguishes 
poets'  fables,  and  what,  from  the  nature  of  the  soul  itself,  all  have  a  coniinon 
apprehension  of  As  also  Diog  La^rt.  hath  the  same  phrase,  mentioning  the 
WTitings  of  Protagoras,  who,  he  says,  wrote  one  book  Trcpi  tmv  cv  niiv,  using 
the  genitive,  as  here,  after  £'',  as  hath  been  usual,  on  the  mentioned  account. 
And  though  his  books  were  burnt  by  the  Athenians,  because  of  thedul  ious  title 
of  one  of  them  concerning  the  gods,  so  that  we  have  not  opportunity  to  know 
what  his  opinion  uf  hades  was,  we  have  reason  more  than  enough,  to  think 
he  understood  it  not  of  a  state  of  torment  only  for  evil  spirits. 

c  Primate  Usher's  judgment  may  be  seen  in  his  answer  to  the  Jesuits'  chal- 
tenge,  that  this  word  properly  signifies  the  other  world,  the  place  or  state  of  th.e 
dead — so  that  heaven  itself  may  be  comprehended  in  it.  Grot  on  Luke  xvi. 
23.  makes  hades  most  certainly  to  signify  a  place  withdrawn  from  cur  sight  ; 
si)oken  ofthe  body,  the  grave  ;  of  the  soul,  all  that  region  wherein  'tis.^ei  a'ate 
from  the  body-  So  (bat  as  Dives  was  in  hades,  so  was  Lazanis  too,  hut  in  se- 
parate roL'iiins  :  for  botli  paradise,  and  hell,  or,  as  the  Grecians  were  wont  to 
speak,  E'.i/sii,  and  Tartara,  were  in  hades.  You  may  have  in  him  more  nuo- 
tationsfrom  the  poets,  the  sense  ofthe  Essenes  from  Josephus,  and  passagis 
from  divers  ofthe  fathers  to  the  same  f)urpose.  Dr  Hammond's  mind  was  the 
same,  copiously  expressed  on  Matt,  xi.  23.  but  differs  from  Grot,  i"  ascribing  to 
Philemon  the  iniiibirks;  above  ncitf-d,  which  the  other  rives  to  Dirhihis  Dr 
I.iL'hiC.ol  j<  full  to  Dip  s.-inie  i..npos.-.on  the  -lib  Artr-le  of  the  Creed  And 
IlKiiiL'bBelliiniihiwill  li.Mve  Ibis  word  alvvavs  signily/;  (7/;  (which,  if  it  do  wilh 
nheol  the  rorrespondriit  word  ;  .Tacob  desired  lo  go  to  hell  to  his  son,  as  D-  H. 
arsnies  ;)  Camero,  as  good  a  judge,  thinks,  except  once,  it  never  does  If  any 
desire  to  see  more  to  this  purpose  with  little  trouble  to  themselves,  let  them  pe 
ruse  Marlinius's  Lexic  en  tlie  word  inferus,  or  infernus.  I  could  refer  to 
many  more  whom  I  forbear  to  mention. 

Only  if  any  think  in  some  or  other  text  of  Scripture  this  wod  must  signify 
hell  only,  since  it  is  of  that  latitude  as  to  signify-  heaven  m  other  places,  an 
impartial  view  of  the  circumstances  of  the  text  must  determine  whether  there 
it  be  meant  ofthe  one,  or  the  other  or  both. 

d  Matmonides, 


OVER  THE  INVISIBLE  WORLD. 


311 


the  compass  of  all  being,  created  and  uncreated.  And  so 
that  of  the  philosopher  takes  place  in  the  worst  sense  that 
can  be  put  upon  it;  "to  see  darkness  is  to  see  nothing." 
All  is  nullity  that  their  sense  reaches  not.  Hades  is  with 
such,  indeed,  empt\',  imaginary  darkness ;  or  in  plainer 
English,  there  is  neither  heaven  nor  hell,  because  they  see 
them  not. 

But  we  ought  to  have  the  greater  thoughts  of  it,  not  the 
less,  for  its  being  too  big,  too  great,  too  glorious,  for  our 
present  view ;  and  that  it  must  as  yet  rest  as  to  us,  and  so 
let  it  rest  awhile,  under  the  name  of  Hades,  the  unknown 
dominion  of  our  great  Lord ;  according  to  that  most  ex- 
press account  he  at  his  ascension  gave  of  the  existence  of 
both  parts  together,  that  less  known  to  us,  and  that  more 
known.  Matt,  xxviii.  18.  All  power  is  given  to  me  both  in 
heaven  and  earth. 

That  death  is  added,  as  contained  also  within  the  limits 
of  our  Lord's  dominion,  doth  expressly  signify  his  custody 
of  the  passage  from  this  visible  world  to  the  invisible,  viz. 
as  he  commands  the  entrance  into  each  distinct  part  of 
hades,  the  invisible  icorld,  consisting  of  both  heaven  and 
hell,  so  he  hath  power  over  death  too,  which  is  the  common 
outlet  from  this  world,  and  the  passage  unto  both. 

But  it  withal  plainly  implies  his  very  absolute  power 
over  this  visible  world  of  ours  also  ;  for  it  signifies  he  hath 
the  power  of  measuring  every  one's  time  here,  and  how 
long  each  inhabitant  of  this  world  shall  live  in  it.  If  it 
belong  to  him  to  determine  when  anyone  shall  die,  it  must 
by  consequence  belong  to  him  to  assign  the  portion  and 
dimensum  of  time  that  every  one  shall  live.  Nor  is  there 
any  conceivable  moment  in  ihe  time  of  any  one's  life, 
wherein  he  hath  not  this  power  of  putting  a  period  by  death 
thereunto,  at  his  own  pleasure.  He  is  therefore  signified 
to  have  the  power  of  every  man's  life  and  death  at  once  : 
and  the  power  of  life  and  death  is  very  high  and  great 
power.  He  therefore  herein  implicitly  claims,  what  is  else- 
where expressly  ascribed  to  him,  Rom.  xiv.  7 — 9.  None 
— lives  to  himself,  {i.  e.  de  jure,  no  man  should,)  or  dies 
to  himself:  for  "whether  we  live,  we  live  unto  the  Lord, 
or  whether  we  die,  we  die  to  the  Lord  ;  whether  we  live 
therefore  or  die,  we  are  the  Lord's.  For  to  this  end  Christ 
both  died,  and  rose  again,  and  revived,  that  he  might  be 
Lord,  both  of  the  dead  and  livin?." 

In  sum,  here  is  asserted  to  him  a  dominion  over  both 
worlds;  this  in  which  we  live,  and  that  into  which  we  die, 
whether  the  one  or  the  other  part  of  it.  And  so  in  refer- 
ence to  men,  who  once  have  inhabited  this  world,  the  sense 
of  this  text,  and  that  we  are  insisting  on,  is  the  same. 
Though  hades  is  of  vastly  larger  extent  than  only  to  be  the 
receptacle  of  such  as  have  lived  here;  it  having  also,  in 
both  the  parts  of  it,  innumerable  inhabitants  who  never 
had  a  dwelling  assigned  them  in  this  world  of  ours  at  all. 

But  thus  far  we  have  the  vast  extent  of  our  Lord  Christ's 
dominion  completely  cleared  to  be  the  proper  intendment 
of  this  text ;  and  that  it  never  meant  so  faint  and  minute 
a  representation  of  it,  as  only  to  make  him  Keeper  of  the 
bottomless  pit ;  thoiigh  of  that  also  he  hath  the  kej'',  as  we 
shall  further  take  notice  :  but  we  are  now  to  inquire  of, 
what  will  take  up  less  time, 

III.  The  kind  of  that  power  over  so  vast  a  realm,  or 
manifold  realms,  signified  by  this  emblematical  expression, 
of  having  the  keys,  tf-c. 

Every  one  knows  that  the  keys  are  insignia ;  some  of 
the  tokens  of  power ;  and  according  to  the  peculiarity  of 
the  object,  may  be  of  Divine  power. 

The  .Tews,  as  some  writers  of  their  affairs  say,  appro- 
priate the  keys  of  three,  others  of  four  things,  to  God  only  : 
of  life,  or  the  entrance  into  this  world  ;  of  the  rain,  or  the 
treasures  of  the  clouds;  of  the  earth,  say  some,''  as  of  the 
granary  of  corn  ;  and  of  the  grave  ;  "  Of  which, "says  one 
of  their  own,f  "  the  Holy,  Blessed  One  hath  the  kej^s  of 
the  sepulchres  in  his  hand,"  &c.  And  as  we  may  be  sure 
he  admits  thither,  so  he  emits  from  thence ;  and,  as  he 
says,  "  In  the  future  age,  the  H.  B.  One  will  unlock  the 
treasures  of  souls,~  and  will  open  the  graves,  and  bring 
every  soul  back  into  its  own  body,"  &o. 

Nor  is  this  key  of  the  vast  hades,  when  it  is  in  the  hand 
of  our  Redeemer,  the  less  in  the  hand  of  the  Holv,  Blessed 
One  ;  for  so  is  he  too.  But  it  is  in  his  hand  as  belonging 
e  Wecras. 


to  his  office  of  Mediator  between  God  and  man,  as  was 
before  said.  And  properly  the  phrase  signifies  ministerial 
power,  being  a  manifest  allusion  to  the  common  usage,  La 
the  courts  of  princes,  of  intrusting  to  some  great  minister 
the  power  of  the  keys;  as  it  was  foretold  of  Eliakim,  (Isa. 
xxii.)  that  he  should  be  placed  in  the  same  high  station  in 
Hezekiah's  court,  wiierein  Shebna  was,  of  whom  so  severe 
things  are  there  said  ;  and  that  the  key  of  the  house  of 
David  should  be  laid  upon  his  shoulder,  &c.  v.  20 — 22. 
And  the  house  of  David  being  a  known  type  of  the  house 
or  church  of  God,  and  he  himself  of  Christ,  who  as  the 
Son,  hath  power  over  the  whole  house,  according  to  this 
typical  way  of  speaking,  our  Lord  is  said  (Rev.  iii.  7.)  to 
have  the  key  of  David,  to  open  so  as  none  can  shut,  to  shut 
so  as  none  can  open  ;  i.  e.  to  have  a  final,  decisive  power 
in  all  he  doth,  from  which  there  is  no  appeal. 

Nor  could  any  thing  be  more  congruous,  than  that 
having  the  keys  of  the  celestial  house  of  God,  the  heavenly 
palace  of  the  Great  King,  the  habitation  of  his  holiness  and 
glory,  (in  which  are  the  everlasting  habitations,  the  many 
mansions,  the  places  prepared  for  his  redeemed,)  he  should 
also  have  the  keys  of. the  terrestrial  Bethel;  which  is  but 
a  sort  of  portal,  or  vestHulum,  to  the  other ;  the  house  of 
God,  and  the  gate  of  heaven.  And  as  he  is  implied  to  have 
the  keys  of  this  introductive,  preparatory  kingdom  of  hea- 
ven, (as  the  keys  of  the  king's  palace,  where  is  the  throne 
or  seat  of  government,  and  the  ke3'S  of  the  kingdom,  must 
mean  the  same  thing,)  when  he  is  said  to  give  them  to  the 
apostle  Peter,  and  the  other  apostles  ;  this  was  but  a  pre- 
lude, and  a  minute  instance  of  his  power  of  those  ke3's  of 
hades,  and  of  the  glorious  heavenly  kingdom  itself  contain- 
ed therein,  which  he  was  not  to  delegate,  but  to  manage 
himself  immediately  in  his  own  person. 

If  moreover  he  were  signified  b^'  the  angel,  (Rev.  xx.  1.) 
who  was  said  to  have  the  key  of  the  bottomless  pit ;  that> 
also  must  import  a  power,  though  great  in  itself,  verv  little 
in  comparison  of  the  immense  hades,  of  which  he  is  here 
said  to  have  the  keys.  So  remote  is  it.  that  the  power  Eis- 
cribed  to  him  there,  should  be  the  measure  of  what  he  here 
asserts  to  himself;  and  the  difference  must  be  vastly  greater 
than  it  is  possible  for  us  to  conceive,  or  parallel  by  the 
difference  between  having  power  over  the  palace,  and  all 
the  most  delightful  and  most  spacious  territories  in  the 
vastest  empire  of  the  greatest  prince,  and  onh'  having 
power  over  a  dungeon  in  some  obscure  corner  of  it ;  which, 
for  the  great  purposes  whereto  all  this  is  to  be  applied,  wp 
can  scarcely  too  much  inculcate. 

And  to  such  application  let  us  now,  with  all  possible  seri- 
ousness and  intention  of  spirit,  address  ourselves.  Which 
will  consist  in  sundry  inferences  or  deductions,  laying  be- 
fore us  some  suitable  matter,  partly  of  our  meditation, 
partly  of  practice;  the  former  whereof  are  to  prepare  and 
lay  a  ground  for  the  latter. 

1.  Divers  things  we  may  collect,  that  will  be  verj'  proper 
for  deep  mediation;  wiiich  I  shall  propose  not  as  things 
that  we  can  be  supposed  not  to  have  kno^^Ti  before,  but 
which  are  too  commonly  not  enough  thought  on  or  con- 
sidered. 

And  here  Ave  shall  somewhat  invert  the  order  wherein 
things  lie  in  the  text,  beginning  with  what  is  there  latter 
and  lower,  and  thence  arisnig,  with  more  advantage,  to 
what  is  higher  and  of  greater  concernment ;  as, 

1.  That  men  do  not  die  at  random,  or  by  some  uncer- 
tain, accidental  bye-stroke,  that,  as  by  a  slip  of  the  hand, 
cuts  off  the  thread  of  life :  but  by  an  act  of  divine  deter- 
mination, and  judgment,  that  passes  in  reference  to  each 
one's  death.  For  as  the  key  signifies  authority  and  power, 
the  turning  this  key  of  death,  that  gives  a  man  his  exit 
out  off  this  world,  is  an  authoritative  act.  And  do  we  con- 
sider in  what  hand  this  power  is  lodged"?  We  cannot  but 
apprehend  every  such  act  is  the  effect  of  counsel  and  judg- 
ment. 

What  philosophers  are  wont  to  discourse  of  fortuitous 
events  in  reference  to  rational  agents,  or  casual,  in  refer- 
ence to  natural,  must  be  understood  but  with  relation  tc 
ourselves,  and  signifies  only  our  own  ignorance  of  futuri- 
ties, but  can  have  no  place  in  the  all-comprehending  mind, 
as  if  anv  thing  were  a  contingency  unto  that.  For  them 
that  live  as  if  they  thought  they  came  into  this  world  by 
f  Pirke.  R.  Eliezer.  Edit,  pei  G.  H.  Vorst.  C.  F. 


Sl-i 


THE  REDEEMER'S  DOMINIOIS 


chance,  'tis  very  natural  to  them  to  think  they  shall  die 
and  go  out  of  it  by  chance  too,  but  when  and  as  it  happens. 
This  is  worse  than  paganish  blindness;  for  besides  what, 
from  their  poets,  the  vulgar  have  been  made  to  believe  con- 
cerning the  three  fatal  Sisters,  to  whom  they  ascribed  no 
less  than  deity  concerned  in  measuring  every  one's  life, 
the  grave  discourses  which  some  of  them  have  writ  con- 
cerning Providence,  and  its  extent  to  the  lesser  interme- 
diate concerns  of  life,  much  more  to  that  their  final  great 
concern  of  death,  will  be  a  standing  testimony  against  the 
too  prevailing  Christian  scepticism  (they  ought  to  excuse 
the  solecism  who  make  it)  of  this  wretched  age  !  But  such 
among  us  as  will  allow  themselves  the  liberty  to  thin'i, 
want  not  opportunity  and  means  by  which  they  maybe  as- 
sured, that  not  an  imaginary,  but  real,  deity  is  immediately 
and  constantly  concerned  in  measuring  our  time  in  this 
world.  What  an  awful  thought  is  this  !    And  it  leads  to  a 

2.  Inference.  That  it  is  a  great  thing  to  die.  The  Son 
of  God,  the  Redeemer  of  man,  hath  an  immediate  presi- 
dency over  this.  He  signalizes  himself  by  it,  who  could 
not  suppose  he  should  be  magnified  by  a  trifle  !  We  slightly 
say,  Such  a  one  is  dead  !  Consider  the  matter  in  itself, 
and  'tis  great.  A  reasonable  soul  hath  changed  states ! 
An  intelligent  spirit  is  gone  out  of  our  world  !  The  life 
of  a  gnat,  a  fly,  (those  little  auloviata,  or  self-moving 
things,)  how  admirable  a  production  is  it  1  It  becomes  no 
man  to  despise  what  no  man  can  imitate.  We  praise  the 
pencil  that  well  describes  the  external  figure  of  such  an 
OMimalculum,  such  a  little  creature ;  but  the  internal, 
vital,  self-moving  power,  and  the  motion  itself,  what  art 
can  express !  But  a  human  life,  how  important  a  thing  is 
it !  'Twas  one  of  Plato's  thank.sgivings,  that  God  had 
made  him  a  man  !  How  careful  a  guard  hath  God  set 
over  every  man's  life,  fencing  it  by  the  severest  law  !  "  If 
any  man  shed  man's  blood,  by  man  shall  his  blood  be 
shed  ;"  and  how  weighty  is  the  annexed  reason  !  "  For  in 
the  image  of  God  he  made  man."  This  then  highly 
greatens  this  matter.  He  therefore  reserves  it  wholly  to 
himself,  as  one  of  his  peculiarities,  to  dispose  of  such  a 
life.  "  I  am  he  that  kills  and  makes  alive."  We  find  it 
one  of  his  high  titles — "  The  God  of  the  spirits  of  all  flesh." 
He  had  what  was  much  greater  to  glory  in,  that  he  was 
"  the  Father  of  spirits,"  indefinitely  spoken.  When  he 
hath  all  the  heavenly  regions,  the  spacious  hades,  peopled 
with  such  inhabitants,  "  whose  dwelling  is  not  with  flesh ;" 
and,  for  vast  multitudes  of  them,  never  was,  that  yet,  look- 
ing down  into  this  little  world  of  ours,  this  minute  spot  of 
his  creation,  and  observing  that  here  were  spirits  dwelling 
in  flesh,  he  should  please  to  be  styled  also  the  God  of 
those  spirits,  signifies  this  to  be  with  him  too  an  appro- 
priate glory,  a  glory  which  he  will  not  communicate  fur- 
ther than  he  communicates  Godhead  ;  .and  that  he  held  it 
a  divine  right  to  measure  the  time  unto  each  of  them  of 
their  abode  in  flesh,  and  determine  when  they  shall  dis- 
lods'e. 

This  cannot  be  thought  on  aright,  without  a  becoming 
most  profound  reverence  of  him  on  this  account.  How 
sharp  a  rebuke  is  given  to  that  haughty  prince,»  "  The 
God  in  whose  hands  thy  breath  is,  hast  thou  not  glorified." 
That  would  prepare  the  way,  and  we  should  be  easily  led 
on,  were  we  once  come  to  think  with  reverence,  to  think 
also  with  pleasure  of  this  case,  that  our  life  and  every 
breath  we  draw  are  under  such  a  divine  superintendency. 
The  holy  Psalmist  speaks  of  it  with  high  complacency,  as 
the  matter  of  his  song,  that  he  had  a  God  presiding  over 
his  life.  So  he  tells  us  he  would  have  each  vvxQfiiiit:(>ov, 
composed  not  more  of  night  and  day,  than  of  prayer  and 
prais^,  directed  to  God  under  this  notion,  as  the  God  of 
his  life,  Psal.  xlii.  8.  And  he  speaks  it  not  grudgingly,  but 
as  the  ground  of  his  trust  and  boast,  Psal.  xxxi.  14,  15. — 
"  I  trusted  in  thee,  O  Lord;  I  said.  Thou  art  my  God,  my 
times  are  in  thy  hand."  That  this  key  is  in  the  hand  of 
the  great  EmmaniiM — God  with  us,  will  be  thought  on  with 
frequency,  when  it  is  thought  on  with  delight. 

3.  Our  life  on  earth  is  under  the  constant  strict  observa- 
tion of  our  Lord  Christ.  He  waits  when  to  turn  the  key, 
and  shut  it  up.  Through  the  whole  of  that  time,  which, 
by  deferring,  he  measures  out  to  us,  we  are  under  his  eye 
as  in   a  state  of  probation.     He  takes  continual  notice 

g  Dan.  7.  23. 


how  we  quit  ourselves.  For  his  turning  the  key  at  last  ii 
a  judicial  act ;  therefore  supposes  diligent  observation, 
and  proceeds  upon  it.  He  that  hath  this  key,  is  also  said 
in  the  next  chapter,  {v.  18.)  to  have  eyes  like  a  flame  of 
fire.  With  these  he  observes  what  he  hath  against  one 
or  another,  (y.  20.)  and  with  most  indulgent  patience 
gives  a  space  of  repentance,  (v.  21.)  and  notes  it  down  if 
any  then  repent  not,  as  we  there  also  find.  Did  secure 
sinners  consider  this,  how  he  beholds  them  with  a  flame  in 
his  eye,  and  the  key  in  his  hand,  would  they  dare  still  to 
trifle!  If  they  did  apprehend  how  he,  in  this  posture, 
stands  over  them,  in  all  their  vain  dalliances,  idle  imper- 
tinencies,  bold  adventures,  insolent  attempts  against  his 
-aws  and  government,  presumptuous  affronts  of  his  high 
authority;  yea,  or  but  in  their  drowsy  slumberings,  their 
lingering  delays  ;  did  they  consider  what  notice  he  takes 
how  they  demean  themselves  under  every  sermon  they 
hear,  in  every  prayer  wherein  they  are  to  join  with  others, 
or  which,  perhaps,  for  custom's  sake,  they  put  up  alone  by 
themselves;  how  their  hearts  are  moved,  or  unmoved,  by 
every  repeated  call  that  is  given  them  to  turn  to  God,  and 
get  their  peace  made  by  application  of  their  Redeemer's 
reconciling  blood  ;  in  what  agonies  would  they  be,  what 
pangs  of  trembling  would  they  feel  within  themselves, 
lest  the  key  should  turn  before  their  great  work  be 
done ! 

4.  Whatsoever  ill  designs  by  this  observation  he  dis- 
covers, 'tis  easy  to  him  to  prevent.  One  turn  of  this  key 
of  death,  besides  the  many  other  ways  that  are  obvious  to 
him,  disappoints  them  all,  and  in  that  day  all  their 
thoughts  perish.  'Tis  not,  therefore,  from  inadvertency, 
indifference,  or  impotency,  but  deep  counsel,  that  they  are 
permitted  to  be  driven  on  so  far.  He  that  sitteth  in  the 
heavens  laughs,  and  he  knows  their  day  is  coming.  Fie 
can  turn  this  key  when  he  will. 

5.  His  power  as  to  every  one's  death  cannot  be  avoided 
or  withstood.  The  act  of  this  key  is  definitive,  and  ends 
the  business.  No  man  hath  power  over  the  spirit  to  retain 
the  spirit;  nor  hath  he  power  in  death,  Eccl.  viii.  8.  'Tis 
in  vain  to  struggle  when  the  key  is  turned;  the  power  of 
the  keys,  where  'tis  supremely  lodged,  is  absolutely  deci- 
sive, and  their  effect  permanent  and  irrevocable.  That 
soul,  therefore,  for  Avhose  exit  the  key  is  turned,  must 
thereupon  then  forthwhh  depart,  willing  or  unwilling, 
ready  or  unready. 

6.  Souls  that  go  out  of  this  world  of  ours,  on  the  turn 
of  this  key,  go  not  out  of  being.  He  that  hath  this  key  of 
death  hath  also  the  key  of  hades,  a  key  and  a  key.  When 
he  uses  the  former,  to  let  them  out  from  this,  he  uses  the 
latter,  to  give  them  their  inlet  into  the  other  world,  and 
into  the  one  or  the  other  part  of  it ;  into  the  upper  or  the 
lower  hades,  as  the  state  of  their  case  is,  and  doth  require. 

Our  business  is  not  now  with  Pagans,  to  whom  the 
oracles  of  God  are  unknown.  If  it  were,  the  best  and 
wisest  of  them  who  so  commonly  speak  of  souls  going  into 
hades,  never  thought  of  their  going  no  whither;  nor  there- 
fore that  they  were  nothing.  They  had  reasons,  then, 
which  they  thought  cogent,  they  induced  them,  though  un- 
assisted with  divine  revelation,  to  conclude  they  survived 
their  forsaken  bodies.  And  what  else  could  any  unbribed 
understanding  conclude  or  conceive  "?  When  we  find  they 
have  powers  JDelonging  to  them,  which  we  can  much  more 
easily  apprehend  capable  of  being  acted  without  help  from 
the  body  than  by  it,  we  are  sure  that  can  form  thoughts, 
purposes,  desires,  hopes ;  for  it  is  matter  of  fact  they  do 
it ;  and  coherent  thoughts,  and  thoughts  arising  from 
thoughts,  one  from  another:  yea,  and  thoughts  abstracted 
from  any  thing  corporeal,  the  notions  of  right  and  wrong, 
of  virtue  and  vice,  of  moral  good  and  evil,  with  some 
agreeable  resolves ;  thoughts  quite  above  the  sphere  oi 
matter,  so  as  to  form  a  notion  of  the  mind  itself  of  a  spi- 
ritual iieing,  as  unexceptionable  a  one  as  we  can  form  of 
a  body;  yea,  of  an  original  self-subsist ent  Mind  and 
Spirit,  the  Former  and  Maker  of  all  other.  'Tis  much 
more  apprehensible,  since  we  certainly  know  that  all  this 
is  done,  that  it  is  done  without  any  help  of  the  body,  than 
how  flesh,  or  blood,  or  bones,  or  nerves,  or  brains,  or  any 
corporeal  thing,  should  contribute  to  such  methods  of 
thinking,  or  to  any  thought  at  all.    And  if  it  can  be  con- 


OVER  THE  INVISIBLE  WORLD. 


313 


«eived  that  a  spirit  can  act  without  dependence  on  a 
body,  what  should  hinder  but  we  may  as  well  conceive  it 
lo  subsist  and  live  without  such  dependence  1  And  when 
we  find  this  power  of  thought  belongs  to  somewhat  in  us 
that  lives,  since  the  deserted  carcass  thinks  not;  how  rea- 
sonable is  it  to  suppose,  that  as  the  body  lives  not  of  itself, 
or  life  is  not  essential  to  it,  for  life  may  be  retired  and  gone, 
and  it  remain,  as  we  see  it  doth,  the  same  body  still ;  that 
the  soul  to  which  the  power  of  thought  belongs,  lives  of 
itself,  not  independently  on  the  first  cause,  but  essentially, 
so  as  to  receive  life  and  essence  together  from  that  cause, 
or  life  includad  in  its  essence,  so  as  that  it  shall  be  the 
same  thing  to  it  to  be  and  to  live.  And  hereupon  how 
obvious  is  it  to  apprehend  that  the  soul  is  such  a  thing  as 
can  live  in  the  body,  which  when  it  doth,  the  body  lives 
by  it  a  precarious,  borrowed  life  ;  and  that  can  live  out  of 
the  body,  leaving  it,  when  it  doth  so,  to  drop  and  die. 

These  sentiments  were  so  reasonable,  as  generally  to 
prevail  with  the  more  deeply-thinking  part  of  mankind, 
philosophers  of  all  sorts,  (a  few  excepted,  whose  notions 
were  manifestly  formed  by  vicious  inclination,)  in  the 
pagan  world,  where  was  nothing  higher  than  reason  to 
govern.  But  we  have  life  and  immortality  brought  to  light 
in  the  gospel, h  and  are  forewarned  by  it  that  these  will  be 
the  measures  of  the  final  judgment,  to  give  eternal  life  at 
lasti  to  them  who,  by  a  patient  continuance  in  well-doing, 
seek  honour,  glory,  and  immortality.  To  the  rest,i<  indig- 
nation and  wrath,  &c.  because!  there  is  no  respect  of  per- 
sons with  God.  As  supposing  the  discovery  of  another 
world,  even  by  natural  light,  much  more  by  the  addition 
of  supernatural,  to  be  so  clear,  as  that  the  rule  of  the  uni- 
versal judgment,  even  for  all,  is  most  righteou.sly  lo  be 
taken  from  hence,  and  that  there  is  nothing  but  a  resolu- 
tion of  living  wickedly,  to  be  opposed  to  it. 

It  is  also  no  slight  consideration,  that  a  susceptibleness 
of  religion  should,  among  the  creatures  that  dwell  on 
earth,  be  so  appropriate  and  peculiar  to  man,  and  (some 
rare  instances  excepted)  as  far  diffused  as  human  nature  ; 
so  as  to  induce  some  very  considering  men,  of  the  an- 
cients as  well  as  moderns,  both  pagans  and  Christians, 
to  think  religion  the  more  probable  specifying  difference 
of  man  than  reason.  And  whence  should  so  common  an 
impression  be,  but  from  a  cause  as  common  1  Or  how  can 
we  avoid  to  think  that  this  signature  upon  the  soul  of  man, 
a  capacity  of  religion,  should  be  from  the  same  hand  that 
formed  the  spirit  of  man  within  him,  and  that  a  natural 
religiousness,  and  human  nature  itself,  had  the  same  Au- 
thor ?  But  who  sees  not  that™  religion,  as  such,  hath  a 
final  reference  to  a  future  state  1  He  was  no  despicable 
writer,  though  not  a  Christian,  that  positively  affirmed 
hope  towards  God  to  be  essential  to  man  ;  and  that  they 
that  had  it  not,  were  not  partakers  of  the  rational  nature. 

'Tis  so  much  the  moreadeplorable  and  monstrous  thing, 
that  so  many,  not  only  against  the  light  of  their  own  rea.son, 
but  of  divine  revelation,  are  so  industrious  to  unman  them- 
selves :  and  having  so  effectually  in  a  great  degree  done  it 
really  and  in  practice,  aim  to  do  it  in  a  more  compendious 
way  notionally  and  in  principle  too;  and  make  use  or  show 
of  reason  to  prove  themselves  not  to  be  reasonable  creatures ; 
or  to  divest  themselv^es  of  the  principal  dignity  and  distinc- 
tion of  the  rational  nature :  and  are  incomparably  herein 
more  unnatural  than  such  as  we  commonly  count  felons 
upon  themselves,  who  only  act  against  their  own  bodily 
life,  but  these  against  the  much  nobler  life  of  their  soul ; 
they  against  the  life  of  an  individual,  these  against  their 
own  whole  species  at  once.  And  how  deplorable  is  their 
case,  that  count  it  their  interest  to  be  in  no  possibility  of 
being  happy  !  when  yet  their  so  great  dread  of  a  future 
state,  as  to  urge  them  upon  doing  the  most  notorious  vio- 
lence to  their  own  faculties  to  rid  themselves  of  it,  is  a 
very  convictive  argument  of  its  reality;  for  their  dread 
still  pursues  and  sticks  close  to  them.  This  shows  it  lies 
deep  in  the  nature  of  things  which  they  cannot  alter.  The 
terrible  image  is  still  before  their  eyes ;  and  their  principal 
refuge  lies  only  in  diverting,  in  not  attending  to  it.  And 
they  can -SO  little  trust  to  their  sophistical  reasonings  against 
It,  that  when  they  have  done  all  they  can,  they  must  o^\■Tl 
what  they  have  of  ease  and  quiet  in  their  own  minds,  not 


h  2  Tim.  i.  10. 
k  Veriio  3. 


i  Rom.  ii.  7. 
1  Veree  11. 


so  much  to  any  strength  of  reason  they  apprehend  in  their 
own  thoughts,  as  in  not  thinking.  A  buld  je.-^i  may  .some- 
times provoke  others'  laughter,  when  it  doth  not  extinguish 
their  own  fear.  A  suspicion  a  formido  oppositi  will  still 
remain  ;  a  mi.sgiving  that  they  cannot  nullify  the  great 
kades,  pull  down  the  spacious  labric  of  heaven,  or  under- 
mine the  profound  abyss  of  hell,  by  a  profane  scoff.  They 
will  in  time  discern  the  difference  between  the  evanid  pas- 
sion of  a  sudden  fright,  that  takes  its  rise  from  imagination, 
and  the  reason  of  things;  as  one  may  between  a  fright  in  a 
dream,  and  the  dread  of  a  condemned  criminal,  with  whom, 
sleeping  and  waking,  the  real  state  of  his  case  is  still  the 
same. 

Nor  are  the  things  themselves  remote  or  unconnected  ; 
God's  right  to  punish  a  reasonable  creature  that  hath  lived 
in  contempt  of  him,  and  his  own  reasonable  apprehension 
hereof,  of  his  conscience  both  of  the  fact  and  desert.  They 
answer  as  face  to  face,  as  the  stamp  on  the  seal,  and  the 
impression  on  the  wax.  They  would  fain  make  their  rea- 
son a  protection  against  their  fear,  but  that  cannot  serve 
both  ways;  the  reason  of  the  thing  lies  against  them  al- 
ready, and  there  cannot  be  an  eternal  war  between  the 
faculty  and  the  object.  One  way  or  other  the  latter  will 
overpower  the  former,  and  draw  it  into  consent  with  it.self ; 
either  by  letting  it  see  there  is  a  just,  true  cause  of  fear, 
or,  assisted  by  Divine  grace,  prevail  for  the  change  of 
the  sinners'  course.  Whereupon  that  troublesome  fear, 
and  its  cause,  will  both  upon  the  best  terms  cease  to- 
gether. And  that  what  hath  been  proposed  to  consideralioa 
under  this  head,  may  be  the  more  effectually  considered, 
to  this  ble.ssed  purpose,  I  add  that, 

7.  The  discovery  of  the  invisible  world,  and  the  disposal 
of  affairs  there,  ha^e  a  most  encouraging  aspect  upon  tliis 
world ;  for  both  the  discovery  and  the  disposal  are  by  our 
blessed  Redeemer,  in  whom  mercy  and  might  are  met  in 
highest  perfection.  How  fragrant  breathings  of  grace,  how 
glorious  a  display  of  power,  are  there  in  what  he  here  sa)'s  ! 
"  Fear  not  J  I  am  the  first  and  the  last ;  I  am  he  that  liv- 
eth  and  was  dead,  and  I  am  alive  for  evermore.  Amen. 
And  I  have  the  keys  of  hades  and  of  death."  He  hath 
opened  the  ce'^stial  hades  to  our  view,  that  it  might  be 
also  open  to  our  safe  entrance  and  blissful  inhabitation. 
He  who  was  dead,  but  liveth,  and  had  made  his  victorious 
triumphant  entrance  before  us,  and  for  us;  he  who  had 
overcome  him  that  had  the  power  of  death, — conquered  the 
gigantic  mon.ster  at  the  gate,  gained  the  keys,  and  designed 
herein  their  deliverance  from  the  fear  of  death,  who  were 
therebv  subject  to  bondage ;  (Heb.  ii.  14,  15.)  he  who 
hath  abolished  death,  and  brought  life  and  immortality  to 
light  in  the  Gospel;  (-2  Tim.  i.  10.)  'tis  he  who  bids  us 
lift  up  our  eyes,  and  behold  the  heavens  opened,  and  him- 
self standing  at  the  right  hand  of  God.  The  horrid  infer- 
nal hades  he  hath  discovered  too,  only  that  we  might  fear 
and  shun  it.  But  yet  more  distinctly  consider,  why  doth 
he  here  represent  himself  under  this  character,  "  He  that 
liveth  and  was  dead,"  but  that  he  might  put  us  in  mind  of 
that  most  convictive  argument  of  his  love,  his  submitting 
to  die  for  us;  "  Greater  love  hath  no  man:"  and  that  he 
might  at  once  put  us  out  of  doubt  concerning  hi^  power, 
that  he  yet  survives,  and  is  sprung  up  alive  out  of  that 
death,  victorious  over  it.  How  amiable  is  the  representa- 
tion of  such  power  in  conjunction  with  such  love!  The 
same  person  having  a  heart  so  replenished  with  love,  a 
hand  so  armed  with  power,  neither  capable  of  ■unkind  de- 
sign, nor  unable  to  effect  the  most  kind.  Behold  him  in 
this  representation  !  Who  would  not  now  fall  at  his  foot 
and  adore  1  Who  would  hesitate  at  resigning  to  him,  or  be 
appalled  at  his  disclosure  of  this  unknoT^Ti  world  1 

Do  but  consider  him  who  makes  the  discovery,  and 
who  would  not  expect  from  him  the  utmost  efforts  of  love 
and  goodness?  From  him  who  is  the  Brightness  of  his 
Father's  glory,  and  the  express  Image  of  his  person!  His 
essential  image,  who  is  Love  !  From  him  who  came  into 
this  wretched  world  of  ours,  full  of  grace  and  truth!  And 
who  could  not  have  come  but  by  the  inducement  of  com- 
passion to  our  miseries.  From  "him  who  knows  all  things, 
and  whose  eve  penetrates  into  every  recess  of  the  vast 
hades;  all  his  own  empire;    in   whom  are   hid   all  the 

m  Philo  Judsptis,  Quod  deter,  potion  insid.  soleat,  «s  tojv  fin  sXtiCoih-wk 


314 


THE  REDEEMER'S  DOMINION. 


treasures  of  wisdom  and  knowledge  ;  but  who  only  knows 
not  to  deceive :  who  hath  told  us,  in  his  Father's  house 
are  many  mansions,  and  if  it  were  not  so,  would  have  told 
US  that,  John  xiv.  2.  From  him  into  whose  mouth  guile 
never  entered,  but  into  whose  lips  grace  was  poured,  and 
is  poured  out  by  them  ;  so  that  the  ear  that  hath  heard 
him  hath  borne  him  witness,  and  filled  with  wonder  those 
that  heard  the  gracious  words  which  came  out  of  his 
mouth.  Who  haih  told  us  all  concerning  that  nnseen 
world,  that  in  this  our  present  state  it  was  fit  for  us  to 
know;  and  enough,  in  telling  all  that  will  be  his  fol- 
lowers, that  where  he  is,  there  he  will  have  them  be,  John 
xvii.  24. 

And  consider  the  manifest  tendency  of  the  discovery 
itself.  What  doth  it  mean  or  tend  to,  but  to  undeceive 
miserable  mortals,  whom  he  beholds  from  his  high  throne 
mocked  with  shadows,  beguiled  with  most  delusive  im- 
postures, and  easily  apt  to  he  imposed  upon  1  foolish, 
deceived,  serving  divers  lusts  and  pleasures ;  feeding  upon 
ashes,  and  wearying  themselves  for  very  vanity  ;  sporting 
themselves  in  the  dust  of  this  minute  spot  of  earth  ;  wast- 
ing their  little  inch  of  time,  wherein  they  should  prepare 
for  translation  into  the  regions  of  imseen  glory.  To  these 
he  declares  he  hath  formed  a  kingdom  for  all  that  covet  to 
mend  their  states,  and  that  his  kingdom  is  not  of  this 
world  ;  that  for  such  as  will  be  of  this  kingdom,  he  will 
provide  better,  having  other  worlds,  the  many  heavens, 
above  all  which  he  is  ascended,  at  his  dispose,  Eph.  iv. 
10.  But  they  must  seek  this  kingdom  and  the  righteous- 
ness of  it  in  the  first  place,  and  desist  from  their  care 
about  other  things.  He  counsels  and  warns  them  not  to 
lay  up  their  treasure  on  earth,  but  in  heaven;  and  to  let 
their  hearts  be  there  with  their  treasure.  And  what  can 
withstand  his  power,  who  having  been  dead,  liveth  victo- 
rious over  him  that  had  the  power  of  death,  and  is  alive 
for  evermore,  possessed  of  an  eternal  state  of  life  1 

And  have  we  not  reason  to  expect  the  most  equal  and 
most  benign  disposal  of  things  in  that  unseen  wotld,  when 
he  also  declares,  I  have  the  keys,  righful  authority,  as 
well  as  mighty  power,  to  reward  and  punish  1  None  but 
who  have  a  very  ill  mind  can  fear  from  him  an  ill  manage- 
ment. He  first  became  capable  of  dying,  and  then  yielding 
himself  to  die,  that  he  might  obtain  these  keys  for  gracious 
purposes.  He  had  them  befi)re  to  execute  just  vengeance, 
as  he  was  originally  in  the  form  of  God,  and  without  rob- 
bery equal  with  God ;  an  equal  sharer  in  .sustaining  the 
wrong  that  had  been  done  by  apostate  rebels,  and  an 
equal  sharer  in  the  right  of  vindicating  it. 

But  that  he  might  have  these  keys  to  open  the  heavenly 
hades  to  reduced  apostates,  to  penitent,  believing,  self-de- 
voting sinners,  for  this  it  was  necessary  he  should  put  on 
man,  be  found  here  in  fashion  as  a  man,  take  on  him  the 
form  of  a  servant,  become  obedient  to  death,  even  that  ser- 
vile punishment  the  death  of  the  cross,  Phil.  ii.  7,  8.  For 
this  he  is  highly  exalted  into  this  power,  that  every  knee 
might  bow  to  him,  in  hope  of  saving  mercy,  i\  9,  10.  com- 
pared with  Isa.  xlv.  22,  23.  He  "had  the  keys  without 
this  of  the  supernal  hades,  to  shut  out  all  offenders,  and 
of  the  infernal,  to  shut  them  up  for  ever.  But  that  he 
might  have  them  to  absolve  repenting  believers,  ad- 
mit them  into  heaven,  and  only  to  shut  up  in  hell  implac- 
able enemies— for  this  he  must  die,  and  live  again.  He 
was  to  be  slain  and  hanged  on  a  tree,  that  he  might  be  a 
Prince  and  a  Saviour  to  give  repentance  and  remission  of 
sin,  Acts  V.  30,  31.  That  to  this  intent  he  might  be  the 
Lord  of  the  dead  and  the  livmg,  he  must  both  die  and 
ri,se,  and  live  so  as  to  die  no  more,  Rom.  xiv.  9.  The.se 
keys  for  this  purpose,  he  was  only  to  have  upon  these 
terms.  He  had  a  right  to  punish  as  an  offended  God, 
but  to  pardon  and  save  as  a  meditating,  sin-expiating 
God-man. 

But  as  he  was  to  do  the  part  of  a  Mediator,  he  must 
act  equally  between  the  disagreeing  parties:  he  was  to 
deal  impartially  on  both  sides.  To  render  back  entire  to 
the  injured  Ruler  of  the  world  his  violated  rights,  and  to 
obtain  for  us  his  forfeited  favour,  as  entire.  And  under- 
took therefore,  when  as  a  sacrifice  he  was  to  be  slain,  to 
redeem  us  to  God  by  his  blood,  Rev.  v.  9.  To  give  him 
back  his  revolted  creature,  holy,  pure,  subject,  and  service- 
n  Gal  iii.  13,  U.  Rom.  .wui.  3,  4. 


able,  as  by  his  methods  he  shall  be  at  last ;  and  procure 
for  him  pardon,  acceptance,  and  eternal  blessedness. 

When  therefore  he  was  to  do  for  us  the  part  of  a  Re- 
deemer, he  was  to  redeem  us  from  the  curse  of  the  law, 
not  from  the  ccmmand  of  it;  to  save  us  from  the"  wrath 
of  God,  not  from  his  government.  Had  it  been  otherwise, 
so  firm  and  indissoluble  is  the  connexion  between  our 
duty  and  our  fel'/:ity,  that  the  sovereign  Ruler  had  been 
eternally  injured,  and  we  not  advantaged.  Were  we  to 
have  been  set  free  from  the  preceptive  obligation  of  God's 
holy  law,  then  most  of  all  from  that  most  fundamental  pre- 
cept, "  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thine 
heart,  soul,  might,  and  mind."  Had  this  been  redemption, 
which  supposes  only  what  is  evil  and  hurtful,  as  that  we  are 
to  be  redeemed  from  1  This  were  a  strange  sort  of  self-re- 
pugnant redemption,  not  from  sin  and  misery,  but  from 
our  duty  and  felicitJ^  This  were  so  to  be  redeemed  as  to 
be  still  lost,  and  every  way  lost,  both  to  God  and  to  our- 
selves for  ever.  Redeemed  from  loving  God  !  What  a  mon- 
strous thought !  Redeemed  from  what  is  the  great  active 
and  fruitive  principle  ;  the  source  of  obedience  and  bless- 
edness; the  eternal  spring,  even  in  the  heavenly  state,  of 
adoration  and  fruition  I  This  had  been  to  legitimate  ever- 
lasting enmity  and  rebellion  against  the  blessed  God,  and 
to  redeem  us  into  an  eternal  hell  of  horror  and  misery  to 
ourselves  !  This  had  been  to  cut  off"  from  the  Supreme 
Ruler  of  the  world  for  ever,  so  considerable  a  limb  of  his 
most  rightful  dominion,  and  to  leave  ns  as  miserable  a.s 
everlasting  separation  from  the  Fountain  of  life  and  bless- 
edness could  make  us. 

When  therefore  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  was  to  redeem 
us  from  the  curse  of  the  law,  it  was  that  the  promised 
Spirit  might  be  given  to  us,  (Gal.  iii.  13,  14.)  who  should 
write  the  law  in  our  hearts  ;  (Jer  xxxi.  33.  Ezek.  xxxvi. 
27.)  fulfil  the  righteousness  of  it  in  us,  by  causing  us  to 
walk  after  his  dictates,  according  to  that  law ;  regenerating 
us,  begetting  us  after  God's  image,  and  making  us  par- 
takers of  a  Godlike  nature.  So  we  through  the  law  be- 
come dead  to  the  malediction  and  curse  of  it,  that  we 
may  live  to  God  more  devoted  lives  than  ever.  Gal.  ii.  19. 
Thus  is  God's  lost  creature  given  back  to  him  with  the 
greatest  advantage  also  to  itself. 

With  this  design  it  is  apparent  our  Lord  redeemed  us, 
and  by  his  redemption  acquired  these  keys.  Nor  are  we 
to  doubt,  but  in  the  use  of  them,  he  will  dispense  exactly 
according  to  this  just  and  merciful  design.  And  what  "a 
perverse  distorted  mind  is  that,  which  can  so  much  as 
wish  it  should  be  otherwise  !  tiz.  That  he  should  save  us 
to  the  eternal  wrong  of  him  that  made  us,  and  so  as  that  we 
should  be  nothing  the  belter  ;  i.  e.  that  he  should  save  us 
without  saving  us. 

And  hath  this  no  pleasant  comfortable  aspect  upon  a 
lost  world,  that  he  who  hath  the  keys  will  use  them  for 
such  purposes!  i.  e.  to  admit  to  eternal  bliss,  and  save  to 
the  uttermost,  all  that  will  come  to  God  by  him ;  (not  will- 
ing to  be  everlastingly  alienated  from  the  life  of  God  ;)  be- 
cause he  ever  li-es  to  make  intercession,  or  to  transact  and 
negociate  for  them,  (a.s  that  word  signifies,)  and  that  in  a 
rightful  way,  and  even  by  the  power  of  these  keys ! 

8.  That  there  must  be  some  important  reason  why  the 
other  world  is  to  us  unseen,  and  so  truly  bears  the  name 
of  Hades.  This  expresses  the  state  of  the  case  as  in  fact  it  is, 
that  it  is  as  a  world  lying  out  of  our  sight,  and  into  which  our 
dim  and  weak  eye  cannot  penetrate.  That  other  state  of 
things  is  spoken  of  therefore  as  hidden  from  us  b);-  a  vail. 
When  our  Lord  Jesus  is  said  to  have  passed  into  the  heavens, 
(Heb.  iv.  14.)  he  is  also  said  to  have  entered  into  that  within 
the  veil ;  (Heb.  vi.  19,  20.)  alluding  to  that  in  the  temple  of 
Solomon,  and  before  that,  in  Moses's  tabernacle ;  but  ex- 
pressly signifying,  that  the  holy  places  into  which  Christ 
entered,  not  those  made  with  hands,  which  were  the  figure 
of  the  true,  but  heaven  itself,  filled  with  the  glorious  pre- 
sence of  God,  where  he  appears  for  us,  (Heb.  ix.  24.)  is 
also  veiled  from  us.  As  also  the  glory  of  the  other  state 
is  said  to  be  a  glorv  as  yet  to  be  revealed,  Rom.  viii.  18. 
And  we  are  told,  (Job  xxvi.  9)  the  g-reat  God  holdeth 
back  the  face  of  his  throne  ;  and  above,  v.  6.  'tis  represent- 
ed as  a  divine  prerogative,  thatsAe^/,  which  is  there  ground- 
lessly  rendered  hell,  the  vast  hades,  is  only  naked  before 


OVER  THE  INVISIBLE  WORLD. 


3iS 


him,  lies  entirely  open  to  his  view,  and  therein  the  dark 
and  horrid  part  of  it,  dcslruclion,  by  which  peculiarly  must 
be  meant  hell,  is  to  him  without  a  covering,  not  more  hid- 
den from  his  eye. 

Which  shows  this  to  be  the  Divine  pleasure ;  so  God 
will  have  it  be,  who  could  have  exposed  all  to  common 
view,  if  he  had  pleased. 

But  because  he  orders  all  things  according  to  the  coun- 
sel of  his  will,  (Eph.  i.  11.)  we  must  conceive  some 
weighty  reason  did  induce  hereto,  that  whatsoever  lies  be- 
yond this  present  state  of  things  should  be  concealed  from 
our  immediate  view,  and  so  come  iino  nomme,  to  be  call- 
ed hades.  And  if  the  reason  of  God's  conduct,  and  the 
course  of  his  dispensation  herein,  had  been  equally  hidden, 
as  that  state  itself  is,  it  had  been  a  bold  presumption  to 
inquire  and  pry  into  it;  modesty  and  reverence  should 
have  restrained  us.  But  when  we  find  it  holds  a  manifest 
agreement  with  other  parts  of  his  counsel,  that  are  suffi- 
ciently revealed;  and  that  the  excellency  of  the  Divine 
wisdom  is  most  conspicuous,  and  principally  to  be  beheld 
and  admired,  in  ordering  the  apt  congruities  and  corres- 
pondencies of  things  with  each  other,  and  especially  of 
the  ends  he  proposes  to  himself,  with  the  methods  and 
ways  he  takes  to  effect  them ;  'twere  very  great  osci- 
tancy,  and  an  undutiful  negligence,  not  to  observe  them, 
when  they  stand  in  view,  that  we  may  render  him  his  due 
acknowledgments  and  honour  thereupon. 

'Tis  manifest  that  as  God  did  not  create  man,  at  first,  in 
that  which  he  designed  to  be  his  final  state;  but  as  a  pro- 
bationer, in  a  state  of  trial,  in  order  to  a  further  state ;  so 
when  he  apostatized  and  fell  from  God,  he  was  graciously 
pleased  to  order  for  him  a  new  trial,  and  put  him  into  the 
hands  of  his  merciful  Redeemer,  who  is  intrusted  with 
these  keys,  and  with  the  power  of  life  and  death  over  him, 
to  be  managed  and  exercised  according  to  the  terms  plainly 
set  down  and  declared  in  his  Gospel.  AVheresoever  he  is 
with  sufficient  evidence  revealed  ana  made  known,  men  im- 
mediately come  under  obligation  lo  believe  in  him;  to  in- 
trust and  commit  themselves  into  the  same  hands;  to  rely 
upon  the  truth  of  his  word  in  every  thing  he  reveals,  as  the 
ground  of  their  submitting  to  his  authority  in  every  thing 
he  requires.  What  concerns  their  present  practice  he  hath 
plainly  shown  them  ;  so  much  as  it  was  requisite  they 
should  pre-apprehend  of  future  retributions,  rewards  and 
punishments,  he  hath  revealed  also;  not  that  they  should 
have  the  knowledge  hereof  bj'  immediate  inspection,  but 
by  taking  his  word.  That  as  their  first  transgression  was 
founded  in  infidelity,  that  they  did  not  believe  God,  but  a 
Iving  spirit  against  him  ;  their  first  step  in  their  recovery 
and  return  to  God  should  be  to  believe  him,  and  take  his 
word  about  things  they  have  themselves  no  immediate 
sight  or  knowledge  of.  This  point  was  by  no  means  lo  be 
quitted  to  the  first  apostates.  As  if  God's  saying  to  them, 
"  If  you  transgress,  you  shall  die,  or  go  into  hades,  was 
no  sufficient  enforcement  of  the  precept,  unless  he  had 
given  them  a  distinct  view  of  the  state  of  felicity  or 
miserj'^,  which  their  obedience  or  disobedience  would  lead 
them  into.  This  had  been  to  give  away  the  whole  cause 
to  the  revolted  rebels,  and  rather  to  confess  error  and  over- 
sight in  the  Divine  government,  than  impute  fault  to  the 
impugners  of  it ! 

This  being  the  state  of  the  case,  how  suitable  had  it 
been  to  the  design  of  this  second  trial  to  be  made  with 
men,  to  withdraw  the  veil,  and  let  every  one's  own  eyes 
be  their  informers  of  all  the  glories  of  the  heavenly  statel 
and  hereupon  proclaim  and  preach  the  Go.spel  to  them, 
that  they  should  all  partake  herein  that  would  entirely 
deny  themselves,  come  off  from  their  own  bottom,  give 
themselves  up  absolutely  to  the  interest,  love,  service,  and 
comnmnion  of  their  Redeemer,  and  of  God  in  him  1  To 
fortify  themselves  against  the  a.ssaults  and  dangers  of  their 
earthly  pilgrimage  by  reversing  that  rule,  The  just  shall 
livi  by  faith  ;  even  that  "  faith  which  is  the  substance  of 
things  hoped  for,  and  the  evidence  of  things  not  seen;  or 
by  inverting  the  method,  that  in  reference  to  such  things? 
we  are  to  walk  by  faith,  not  by  sight,  and  letting  it  be, 
We  are  to  walk  by  sight,  not  by  faith  1  And  that  lest  any 
should  refuse  such  compliance  with  their  ijreat  Lord, 
whole  hades  should  be  no  longer  so,  but  made  naked  be- 

o  Heb.  X.  3S.— ch.  ri.  I.  p  S  Cor.  v.  r. 


fore  them,  and  the  covering  of  hell  and  destruction  be 
taken  off,  and  their  own  e3'es  behold  the  infernal  horrors, 
and  their  own  ears  hear  the  shrieks  and  bowlings,  of  ac- 
cursed creatures,  that  having  rejected  their  Redeemer,  are 
rejected  by  him.  We  ar  not  here  to  consider,  what 
course  would  most  certainly  efiect  their  salvation,  but 
what  most  became  the  wise  holy  God,  to  preserve  the  dig- 
nity of  his  own  government,  and  save  them  too;  other- 
wise Almighty  power  could  save  all  at  once.  As  therefore 
we  have  cause  to. acknowledge  the  kindness  and  compas- 
sion of  our  bles.sed  Lord,  who  hath  these  keys,  in  giving 
us  for  the  kind,  such  notices  as  he  hath,  of  the  state  of  the 
things  in  hades ;  so  we  have  equal  cause  to  admire  his 
wisdom,  that  he  gives  us  not  those  of  another  kind,  (hat 
should  more  powerfully  strike  the  sense  and  amaze  us 
more,  but  instruct  us  less;  that  continues  it  lo  he  hades 
still,  a  state  of  things  to  us  unseen  as  yet.  As  the  case 
would  have  been  on  the  other  supposition,  the  most  gene- 
rous, noble  part  of  our  religion  had  been  sullied  or  lost; 
and  the  trial  of  our  faith,  which  is  to  be  found  unto  praise, 
honour,  and  glory,  at  the  appearing  of  Jesus  Christ,  even 
upon  this  acroimf ;  that  they  who  had  not  seen  him  in  his 
mean  circumstances  on  earth,  nor  did  lujw  see  bim,  amidst 
all  the  glories  of  his  exalted  state,  yet  believing,  loved 
him,  and  rejoiced  in  him  with  joy  unspeakable,  and  full 
of  glory,  1  Pet.  i.  7,  8.  This  faith,  and  all  the  glorious 
trials  of  it,  with  its  admirable  achievements  and  perform- 
ances, whereby  the  elders  heretofore  'i  obtained  so  good  a 
report,  and  high  renown  on  earth,  and  which  filled  the 
world  with  wonder,  had  all  vanished  into  obscurity  and 
darkness  ;  i.  e.  if  they  had  believed  no  more,  or  no  greater 
things,  than  every  man  besides  had  Llie  iminediale  view  of 
by  his  own  eye-sight. 

And  j'et  the  trial  had  been  greater,  on  another  account, 
than  the  Divine  wisdom,  in  conjrmction  with  goodness  and 
compassion,  thought  fit  ordinarily  to  put  sincere  Chris- 
tians upon.  For  who  could  with  any  tolerable  patience 
have  endured  longer  abode  on  earth,  after  they  should 
once  have  had  the  glory  of  the  heavenly  state  immediately 
set  in  view  before  Uieir  ej'es  %  especially  considering,  not 
so  much  the  sufferings,  as  the  impurities,  of  their  present 
slate  1  What,  for  great  reason,  was  a  special  vouchsafe- 
ment  to  one  aposlle,  was,  for  as  great,  to  be  common  to 
all  Christians.  How  great  is  the  wisdom  and  mercy  of 
our  blessed  Lord  in  this  partial  concealment  of  our  future 
state,  and  that  while  so  much  as  is  sufficient  is  revealed, 
there  is  yet  a  hades  upon  it,  and  it  may  still  be  said,  It 
doth  not  yet  appear  what  we  shall  be,  1  John  iii.  2. 

But  as  these  majestic  life-breathing  words  of  our  great 
Lord  do  plainly  offer  the  things  that  have  been  mentioned, 
and  many  more  such  that  might  occur,  to  our  thoughts 
and  meditation ;  so  will  tl>ey  be  thought  on  in  vain,  if 
they  be  not  followed  and  answered  by  suitable  disposi- 
tions and  actions  of  heart  and  life.  Therefore  the  further 
use  we  are  lo  make  of  this  great  subject  will  be  to  laj'  down, 

2.  Divers  correspondent  things  to  be  practised  and 
done,  which  must  also  suppose  dispositions  and  frames  of 
heart  and  spirit  agreeable  thereto. 

1.  Let  us  live  expecting  a  period  to  be  ere  long  put  to 
our  life  on  earth.  For  remember,  there  are  keys  put  into 
a  great  hand  for  this  ver)-  purpose,  that  holds  them  not  in 
vain.  His  power  is  of  equal  extent  with  the  law  he  is  to 
proceed  b)'.  And  by  that  it  is  ■•  appointed  for  all  once  to 
die.  Therefore,  as  in  the  execution  he  cannot  exceed,  so 
he  will  not  come  short  of  this  appointment:  when  that 
once  shall  be,  it  belongs  to  him  to  determine.  And  from 
the  course  we  may  observe  him  to  hold,  as  it  is  uncertain 
to  all,  it  can  be  very  remote  to  none.  How  short  is  the 
measure  of  a  span !  'Tis  an  abs\ird  vanity  to  promise 
ourselves  that  which  is  in  the  power  of  another.  How 
wise  and  prudent  a  thing  to  accommodate  ourselves  com- 
posedly to  his  pleasure,  in  whose  power  we  are;  and  to 
live  as  men  continually  expecting  to  die  !  There  are  bands 
of  death  out  of  whichwhen  they  once  take  hold,  we  can- 
not free  ourselves.  But  there  are  also  bands  of  life,  not 
less  troublesome  or  dangerous.  'Tis  our  great  concern 
to  be  dailv,  bv  decrees,  loosening  and  disentangling  our- 
selves from  these  bands;  and  for  preventing  the  necessity 
of  a  violent  rupture,  to  be  daily  disengaging  our  hearts 

q  Heb.  xi,  9.  r  Heb.  u.  27. 


316 


THE  REDEEMER'S  DOMINION 


from  an  ensnaring  world,  and  the  too  close  embraces  of  an 
over-mdulged  body.  Tell  them  resolutely,  I  must  leave 
them  whensoever  my  great  Lord  turns  the  key  for  me ;  aud 
I  know  not  how  soon  that  may  be.  It  is  equally  unhappy 
and  foolish  to  be  engaged  in  the  pursuit  of  an  impossibility, 
or  in  a  war  with  necessity  ;  the  former  whereof  cannot  be 
obtained,  the  latter  cannot  but  overcome.  We  owe  so 
much  to  ourselves,  and  to  the  ease  and  quiet  of  our  own 
minds,  to  be  reconciled,  at  all  times,  to  that  which  may  befall 
us  at  any  time.  How  confounding  a  thing  is  surprisal  by 
that  which  ourselves  regret  and  dread  !  How  unaccount- 
able and  ignominious  must  it  be  to  pretend  to  be  surprised 
with  what  we  have  so  great  reason  always  to  expect,  and 
whereof  we  are  so  oft  forewarned  !  Is  it  no  part  of  Chris- 
tian watchfulness  to  wait  for  such  an  hour  1  Though  that 
waiting  all  the  days  of  our  appointed  time,  mentioned  Job 
xiv.  14.  refers  to  another  change  than  that  of  death,  viz. 
(as  the  foregoing  and  following  verses  show,)  that  of  the 
resurrection,  yet  it  cannot  but  be  equally  requisite,  upon 
a  no  less  important  reason.  And  the  requests  that  the 
Lord  would  make  us  know  our  end,  and  the  measure 
of  our  days,  that  we  may  know  how  frail  we  are,  (Ps. 
xxxix.  4.)  and  that  he  would  teach  us  so  to  number  our 
days  that  we  may  apply  our  hearts  to  wisdom,  (Ps.  xc. 
12.)  are  equally  monitory  to  the  same  purpose,  as  the 
most  express  precepts ;  as  also  the  many  directions  we 
have  to  watch  and  wait  for  our  Lord's  appearance  and 
coming  are  as  applicable  to  this  purpose.  For  whensoever 
his  key  opens  our  passage  out  of  this  world,  and  these 
bodies,  hades  opens  too,  and  he  particularly  appears  to  us, 
jn  as  decisive  a  judgment  of  our  case,  as  his  universal  ap- 
pearance and  judgment  will  at  last  give  for  all.  The 
placid  agreement  of  our  minds  and  spirits  with  divine 
determination,  both  as  to  the  thing,  and  time,  of  our  de- 
parture hence,  will  prevent  the  trouble  and  ungratefulness 
of  being  surprised ;  and  our  continual  expectation  of  it, 
will  prevent  any  surprisal  at  all.  Let  this  then  be  an 
agreed  resolution  with  us,  to  endeavour  being  in  a  posture, 
as  that  we  may  be  capable  of  saying,  "  Lord,  whensoever 
thou  shalt  move  thy  key,  and  tell  me  this  night,  or  this 
hour,  I'll  require  thy  soul,  thou  shalt  not,  O  Lord,  pre- 
vent mine  expectation,  or  ever  find  me  counting  upon 
many  years'  enjoyment  of  any  thing  this  w^orld  can  enter- 
tain me  with." 

In  further  pursuance  hereof, 

2.  Be  not  over-intent  on  designs  for  this  present  world  ; 
which  would  suppose  you  to  count  upon  long  abode  in 
it.  Let  them  be  always  laid  with  a  supposition,  you  may 
this  way,  even  by  one  turn  of  this  key,  be  prevented  of 
bringing  them  about:  and  let  them  be  pursued  with  indif- 
ferency,  so  as  that  disappointment  even  this  way  may  not 
be  a  grievance.  A  thing  made  up  of  thought  and  design, 
as  our  mind  and  spirit  naturally  is,  will  be  designing  one 
way  or  other;  nor  ought  we  to  attempt  that  violence  upon 
our  own  natures,  as  to  endeavour  the  stupifying  of  the  in- 
telligent, designing  mind,  which  the  Author  of  nature  hath 
put  into  us.  Only  let  us  so  lay  our  designs,  as  that  how- 
many  soever  we  form  that  may  be  liable  to  this  sort  of 
disappointment,  we  may  still  have  one  greater  and  more 
important,  so  regularly  and  surely  laid,  that  no  turn  of  this 
key  shall  be  in  any  possibility  to  frustrate,  but  promote  it 
rather.  The  design  for  the  kingdom  of  God  to  be  first 
sought,  with  his  righteousness,  (Matt.  vi.  33.)  or  which  is 
pursued  by  seeking  glory,  honour,  and  immortality,  to  the 
actual  attainment  of  eternal  life,  (Rom.  ii.  7.)  may,  if  pre- 
scribed methods  be  duly  observed,  have  this  felicity  always 
attending  it,  to  be  successfully  pursued  while  we  live,  and 
effected  when  we  die. 

But  this  is  an  unaccountable  vanity  under  the  sun,  that 
men  too  generally  form  such  projects,  that  they  are  disap- 
pointed both  when  they  do  not  compass  theni,  and  when 
they  do.  If  they  do  not,  they  have  lost  their  labour;  if 
they  do,  they  are  not  worth  it.  They  dream  they  are  eat- 
ing, and  enjoying  the  fruit  of  their  labour ;  but  they  awake, 
and  their  soul  is  empty.  And  if  at  length  they  think  of 
laying  wiser  and  more  valuable  designs,  the  key  turns,  and 
pot  having  fixed  their  resolution,  and  begun  aright,  they 
and  all  their  thoughts,  foolish,  or  more  wise,  perish  toge- 
ther. Because  there  is  a  fit  season  t'^^  "very  fit  undertak- 
8  Jam.  iv.  13— lb 


ing,  a  time  and  judgment  for  every  purpose,  or  a  critical 
time,  such  as  is  by  judgment  affixed  to  every  such  purpose, 
fEccl.  viii.  6.)  and  because  also  men  know  not  their  time, 
(ch.  ix.  12.)  therefore  their  misery  is  great  upon  the  earth, 
and  as  birds  caught  in  a  snare,  they  are  snared  in  an  evil 
time  that  falleth  suddenly  upon  them.  O  miserable, 
miserable  mortals  !  So  are  your  immortal  spirits  misem- 
ployed and  lost ! 

Their  most  valuable  design  for  another  world  is  seldom 
thought  on  in  season ;  their  little  designs  for  this  world 
they  contrive  and  prosecute  with  that  confidence,  as  if 
they  thought  the  world  to  be  theirs,  and  themselves  their 
own,  and  they  had  no  Lord  over  them.  This  rude  inso- 
lence that  holy  apostle  animadverts  uj)on,  of  such  as  say,» 
"  To-day  or  to-morrow  we  will  go  to  such  a  city,  and  con- 
tinue there  a  year,  and  buy  and  sell,  and  get  gain ;  where- 
as they  know  not  what  shall  be  on  the  morrow :  and 
what  is  their  life  1  A  vapour,"  &c.  So  much  of  duty  and 
becoming  behaviour  is  in  the  meantime  forgotten,  as  to 
say,  "  If  the  Lord  will  we  shall  live,"  &c.  This  is  to 
bear  themselves  as  absolute  masters  of  their  own  lives 
How  bold  an  affront  to  their  sovereign  Lord  !  They  feel 
themselves  well  in  health,  strength,  and  vigour,  and  seem 
resolved  it  shall  be  a  trial  of  skill  who  hath  the  power,  or 
to  whom  the  keys  belong,  till  it  come  to  the  last  irrefrag- 
able demonstration,  that  he  changes  their  countenance, 
and  sends  them  aw^ay ;  (Job  xiv.  20.)  and  then  they  go, 
driven,  plucked,  and  torn  away  from  their  dwelling-place, 
rooted  out  from  the  land  of  the  living,  Ps.  lii.  5. 

But  if  any  premonitory  decays  make  them  doubt  the 
perpetuity  of  their  own  abode  here,  they  somewhat  ease 
their  minds  by  the  pleasure  they  take  in  thinking,  when 
they  have  filled  their  own  bellies,  (Ps.  xvii.  14.)  what  they 
shall  leave  of  their  substance  to  their  babes,  and  to  them 
that  shall  come  after.  And  "  their  inward  thought  is, 
that  their  houses  shall  continue  for  ever,  and  their  dwell- 
ing-places to  all  generations;  and  they  call  their  lands 
after  their  own  names,  and  their  posterity  approve  their 
sayings,"  think  and  act  as  wisely  as  they,  (Ps.  xlix.  11, 
12.)  Thus  they  take  upon  them,  and  reckon  they  for 
their  time,  and  theirs  after  them,  shall  still  dwell  in  theii 
own.  A  wise  thought !  They  are  the  owners,  when  an- 
other keeps  the  keys. 

Several  other  things  of  like  import  I  shall  more  lightly 
touch,  that  may  be  collected  from  what  hath  been  already 
more  largely  said,  and  leave  to  be  further  enlarged  upon 
in  your  own  thoughts ;  and  shall  dilate  more  upon  some 
other,  as  they  are  either  more  material,  or  less  thought  on 
by  the  most. 

3.  Be  not  prodigal  of  your  time  on  earth,  which  is  so 
little  in  your  power.  Because  you  are  not  to  expect 
much,  make  the  best  use  you  can  of  your  little.  'Tis  so 
precious  a  thing  that  it  is  to  be  redeemed ;  'tis  therefore 
too  precious  to  be  embezzled  and  trifled  away.  The  con- 
nexion of  those  two  precepts,  (Eph.  v.  15,  16.)  of  walking 
circumspectly,  not  as  fools,  but  as  wise,  and  that  of  redeem- 
ing the  time,  more  than  intimates,  that  to  squander  time 
is  a  foolish  thing.  Of  the  several  sorts  of  things  that  we 
make  ourselves,  their  shape  and  frame  show  their  use  and 
end.  Are  we  to  make  a  less  judicious  estimate  of  the 
works  of  God  1  If  we  therefore  contemplate  ourselves,  and 
consider  what  a  sort  of  production  man  is,  can  we  allow 
ourselves  to  think  God  made  him  a  reasonable  creature  on 
purpose  to  play  the  fool  1  Or  can  we  live  as  if  we  thought 
so,  without  reproaching  otir  Maker  1  But  whereas  he  who 
hath  been  the  Author  to  us  of  such  a  nature,  capable  of 
improving  a  life's  time  in  this  world  unto  most  valuable 
purposes,  hath  also  been  the  Author  of  such  a  law,  re- 
quiring us  to  redeem  time ;  the  reproach  will  be  wholly 
turned  off  from  him  upon  ourselves,  and  our  consequent 
ruin  be  upon  our  own  guilty  heads.  And  he  will  find 
some  among  ourselves,  who  by  the  advantage  only  of  the 
reasonable  nature,  common  to  us  and  them,  that  are  in- 
structors to  us  not  to  waste  our  days  in  vanity,  and  will 
be  witnesses  against  us  if  we  so  foolishly  consume  what 
we  cannot  command. 

Some  such  have  unanswerably  reprehended  the  com- 
mon folly  of  those  that  dread  the  thought  of  throwing 
away  their  whole  life  at  once,  that  yet  have  no  regret  at 


OVER  THE  INVISIBLE  WORLD. 


317 


throwing  it  all  away  by  parcels  and  piecemeal.  Aiid  hare 
told  us,  A  wise  mo.n  can  find  nothing  of  that  value,  for 
which  to  barter  away  his  time.'- 

And  we  are  to  consider,  that  as  we  are  reasonable 
creatures,  we  are  accountable.  That  we  are  shut  up  in 
these  bodies  as  in  workhouses.  That  when  he  that  keeps 
the  keys  lets  us  out,  we  are  to  "  receive  the  things  done 
in  the  body,  according  to  what  we  have  done,  whether 
good  or  evil,"  2  Cor.  v.  10.  That  it  belongs  to  him  that 
measures  our  time  to  censure  it  too,  and  the  use  we  have 
made  of  it. 

4.  Let  him  be  at  once  both  great  and  amiable  in  our 
eyes,  who  hath  so  absolute  power  over  us,  and  so  gracious 
propensions  towards  us;  i.  e.  who  hath  these  key.s,  and 
who  acquired  them  with  so  merciful  intentions,  even  upon 
such  terms  as  could  not  but  signify  the  greatest  compas- 
sion and  good  will  towards  such  as  we. 

Reconsider  what  hath  been  offered  as  matter  of  medita- 
tion, to  both  these  purposes.  And  now,  hereupon,  let  us 
endeavour  to  have  a  correspondent  sense  inwrought  into 
our  hearts,  and  to  bear  ourselves  towards  him  accordingly. 
The  power  and  efficacy  of  whole  Christianity  depends 
upon  this,  and  do  very  principally  consist  in  it.  What  a 
faint,  impotent,  languishing  thing  is  our  religion,  how  doth 
it  dwindle  into  spiritless,  dead  form,  without  it !  The 
form  of  knowledge  is  nothing  else  but  insipid,  dead  no- 
tion, and  our  forms  of  worship  only  fruitless,  unpleasant 
formality,  if  we  have  not  a  vivid  sense  in  our  hearts  both 
of  his  glorious  greatness,  and  of  his  excellent  loving-kind- 
ness. As  much  as  words  can  signify  towards  the  impress- 
ing such  a  sense  into  our  hearts,  we  have  in  these  words, 
uttered  from  his  own  mouth ;  so  that  he  may  say,  as  that 
memorable  type  of  him  once  did,  You  may  plainly  per- 
ceive," "  It  is  my  mouth  that  speaketh  to  you.  I  am  the 
first  and  the  last.  I  am  he  that  liveth  and  was  dead,  and 
behold  I  am  alive  for  evermore."  And  hereto  he  now 
sets  his  solemn  ratifying  seal.  Amen.  Wherewith  he 
leaves  us  to  pause,  and  collect,  that  thus  it  was  brought 
about,  that  he  could  add,  "  And  I  have  the  keys  of  the 
vast  hades,  the  whole  unseen  v^orld,  and  of  death." 

And  God  forbid  that,  now,  these  words  should  be  with 
us  an  empty  sound,  or  a  dead  letter  !  Let  us  cast  in  our 
minds  what  manner  of  salutation  this  should  be  !  Doth 
the  Son  of  God  thus  vouchsafe  to  bespeak  miserable  ab- 
jects,  perishing,  lost  wretches  1  How  can  we  hereupon 
but  bow  our  heads  and  worship  1  What  asfitations  of  af- 
fection should  we  feel  within!  How  sliould  all  our  inter- 
nal powers  be  moved,  and  our  whole  souls  made  as  the 
chariots  of  Amminadab !  What  can  we  he  now  unwilling 
of,  that  he  would  have  us  be,  or  do  1  And  as  that,  where- 
of we  may  be  assured  he  is  most  willing. 

5.  Let  us  entirely  receive  him,  and  absolutely  resign 
ourselves  to  him,  as  our  Prince  and  Saviour.  Who 
would  not  covet  to  be  in  special  relation  to  so  mighty  and 
so  kind  a  Lord"?  And  can  you  think  to  be  related  to  him 
upon  other  terms'?  And  do  you  not  know  that  nyion  these 
you  may,  when  in  his  Gospel  he  offers  himself,  and  de- 
mands you  1  What  can  that  mean,  but  that  you  are  to 
receive  him,  and  resign  yourselves  1  The  case  is  now 
brought  to  this  state,  that  you  must  either  comply,  or  re- 
bel. And  what !  rebel  against  him  who  hath  these  keys, 
who  is  in  so  high  authority  over  the  whole  unseen  world, 
who  is  the  Head  of  all  principality  and  power,  who  is 
gone  into  the  heavens,  the  glorious  upper  hades,  and  is 
at  the  right  hand  of  God,  angeh,  authorities,  powers,  be- 
ing made  subject  to  him!  1  Pet.  iii.  22.  We  little  know 
or  can  conceive,  as  yet,  the  several  orders  and  distinc- 
tions of  the  celestial  inhabitanis,  and  their  great  and  illus- 
trious princes  and  potentates,  thrones,  dominions,  &c.  that 
all  pay  him  a  dutiful  and  a  joyful  subjection  and  obedi- 
ence. But  do  we  not  know  God  hath  given  him  a  name 
above  every  name  !  and  ihat  in  his  name,  or  at  it,  as  it 
mav  be  read,  i.  e.  in  acknowledgment  of  his  sovereign 
power,  ev^ery  knee  must  bow,  of  things  in  heaven,  on 
earth,  and  under  earth,  and  all  confess  that  he  is  Lord,  to 
the  praise  and  glory  of  God  the  Father  ?  And  who  art 
thou,  perishing  wrech!  that  darest  dispute  his  title"?  or 
that,  when  all  the  creation  must  be  subject  to  him,  wilt 
except  thy.self* 

t  Neque  qiucquamreperttdi^um.quod  cviin  tempore  suo  permutarct.    Sen. 


And  when  it  cost  him  so  dear,  tliat  his  vast  power  might 
be  subservient  to  a  design  of  grace,  and  thou  must  at  last 
be  saved  by  him,  or  lost  for  ever,  wliat  can  tempt  thee  to 
stand  out  against  such  power  and  such  grace  1 

If  thou  wert  to  gratify  thy  ambiiion,  how  glorious  a 
thing  is  it  to  be  a  Christian  !  a  subject,  a  devoted  homager, 
to  so  mighty  a  Prince !  If  to  provide  against  thy  necessity 
and  distress,  what  course  can  be  so  sure  and  successful, 
as  to  fly  for  refuge  to  so  compa.'^sionate  a  Saviour  1  And 
dost  thou  not  know  there  must  be,  to  this  purpose,  an  ex- 
press transaction  between  him  and  thee  1  Wonder  he 
will  condescend  to  it !  To  capitulate  with  du.st  and  ashes  ! 
To  article  with  his  own  creature,  with  whom  he  may  do 
what  he  will !  But  his  merciful  condescension  herein  is 
declared  and  known.  If  there  shall  be  a  special  relation 
settled  between  him  and  thee,  he  hath  told  thee  in  what 
way  it  must  be,  i.  e.  by  way  of  covenant-transaction  and 
agreement,  as  he  puts  his  people  of  old  in  mind  his  way 
was  with  them  ;  "  I  entered  into  covenant  with  thee,  and 
thou  becamest  mine,"  Ezek.  xvi.  8.  This  I  insi.st  upon 
and  press,  as  a  thing  of  the  greatest  importance  imagin- 
able, and  the  least  thought  of:  nor  the  strange  incongruity 
animadverted  on,  viz.  that  we  have  the  seals  of  such  a 
covenant  among  us;  but  the  covenant  itself  slips  through 
our  hands.  Our  baptism  soon  after  we  were  born,  with 
some  federal  words  then,  is  thought  enough,  as  if  we  were 
a  nation  of  always  minors.  Whoever  therefore  thou  art, 
that  hearest  these  words,  or  readcst  these  lines,  know  that 
the  great  Lord  is  express  towards  thee  in  his  gospel-pro- 
posal—" Wilt  thou  accept  me  for  thine,  and  resign  thysell 
as  mine  V  He  now  expects  and  requires  thy  express  an- 
swer. Take  his  gospel  as  from  ih°  cross,  or  take  it  as  from 
the  throne,  or  as  from  both,  'tis  the  same  Gospel,  inter- 
woven of  grace  and  authority  ;  the  richest  grace,  and  the 
highest  authority,  at  once  inviting  and  requiring  thee  to 
commit  and  submit  thyself  unto  him.  Take  heed  lest  his 
key  turn  before  thou' hast  given  thy  complying  answer, 
importing  at  once  both  thy  trust  and  thy  subjection. 

Give  not  over  pleading  with  thyself,  with  thy  wayward 
stupid  heart,  till  it  can  say  to  him,  "  Lord,  I  yield  ;  thou 
hast  overcome."  Till  with  tender  relentings  thou  hast 
thrown  thyself  at  his  feet,  and  told  him,  •'  Lord,  1  am 
ashamed,  I  am  confounded  within  myself,  thai  thou 
shouldsl  die  upon  a  cross  to  obtain  thy  high  power,  and 
that  thou  art  now  ready  to  use  it  for  the  saving  so  vile  a 
miscreant  as  I :  that  when  thou  hast  so  vast  an  unknown 
world,  so  numberless  myriads  of  excellent  creatures  in  thy 
obedience,  thou  shouldst  yet  think  it  worth  thy  while  to 
look  after  me  ;  and  that  I  should  so  long  have  withstood 
thy  kind  and  gracious  overtures  and  intendments  !  O  for- 
give my  wicked  aversion !  I  now  accept  and  resign."^ 

And'now  this  being  sincerely  done,  with  fulness  of  con- 
sent, with  deep  humility,  with  yearning  bowels,  with  un- 
feigned thankfulness,  and  an  "inward  complacency  and 
gladness  of  heart ; 

6.  Let  your  following  course  in  this  world  be  ordered 
agreeably  hereto,  in  continued  dependence  and  subjection. 
As  we  have  received  Christ  Jesus  the  Lord,  so  we  are  to 
walk  in  him.  Col.  ii.-  6.  Take  him  according  to  the  titles 
here  given  him,  as  Christ,  a  Person  anointed,  authorized, 
qualified  to  be  both  Jesus,  a  Saviour,  so  we  are  to  walk, 
according  to  our  first  reception  of  him,  in  continual  de- 
pendence on  his  saving  mercy,  and  to  be  a  Lord,  or,  as 
'tis  here  exprest,  with  eminency,  the  Lord,  so  we  are  to 
walk  in  continual  subjection  to  his  governing  power. 
Otherwise  our  receiving  him,  at  first,  under  these  notions, 
hath  nothing  in  it  but  mockery  and  collusion. 

But  if  his  obtaining  these  keys,  upon  the  terms  here  ex- 
prest, as  having  been  dead,  and  now  living,  and  having 
overcome  death,  as  'tis  also  Rom.  xiv.  9.  did  signity  his 
having  them  for  saving  purposes,  as  it  must,  .since  for 
other  purposes  he  had  them  sufficiently  before :  and  if  w 
reckon  this  a  reasonable  inducement  to  receive  him.  and 
commit  and  intrust  ourselves  to  him  as  a  Saviour,  that  he 
died,  and  overcame  death  :  (for  his  grace  in  yielding  to 
die,  had  not  rendered  him  a  competent  object  of  trust, 
otherwise  than  in  conjunction  with  his  power  in  overcom- 
ing death,  and  so  gaining  into  his  hands  these  keys  ;)  then 
the  same  reason  still  remaining,how  constant  an  encourage- 
u  Gen.  xlv. 


318 


THE  REDEEMERS  DOMINION 


ment  have  we  to  continue  accordingly  walking  in  him  all 
our  days!  How  potent  an  argumeni  should  it  be  to  us,  to 
live  that  life  which  we  live  in  ihe  flesh, by  faith  in  the  Son 
of  God,  who  loved  us,  and  gave  himself  for  us !  (Gal.  ii. 
20.)  i.  e.  inasmuch  as  having  been  crucified  with  him, 
(wnich  is  also  there  exprest,)  we  feel  ourselves  to  live  ne- 
vertheless; yet  so  as  that  'tis  not  so  much  we  that  live,  as 
Christ  that  liveth  in  us;  who  could  not  live  in  us,  or  be 
to  us  a  spring  of  life,  if  he  were  not  a  perpetual  spring  of 
life  in  himself 

And  consider,  how  darest  thou  live  otherwise  in  this 
flesh,  in  this  earthly  house,  whereof  he  keeps  the  keys, 
and  can  fetch  thee  out  at  his  pleasure "?  When  he  hath 
warned  thee  to  abide  in  him,  that  when  he  shall  appear, 
thou  mayst  have  confidence,  and  not  be  ashamed  at  his 
coming,  1  John  ii.  28.  He  will  certainly  then  appear, 
when  he  comes  to  open  the  door,  and  dislodge  thee  from 
this  flesh;  (though  there  be  here  a  further  and  final  refe- 
rence to  another  appearance  and  coming  of  his ;)  and  if 
he  then  find  thee  severed  and  disjoined  from  him,  (thy  first 
closure  with  him  not  having  been  sincere,  truly  unitive 
and  vital, ^  how  terribly  will  he  look !  how  confoundedly 
wilt  thou  look  in  that  hour ! 

Neither  hast  thou  less  reason  to  live  in  continual  subjec- 
tion to  him,  considering  that  as  he  died,  and  overcame 
death,  that  he  might  have  these  keys,  so  he  now  hath  them, 
and  thou  art  under  his  governing  power.  The  more  thou 
considerest  his  right  to  govern,  the  less  thou  wilt  dispute 
it.  When  he  was  spoken  of  as  a  Child  to  us  born,  that 
he  might  become  a  Maa  of  sorrows,  and  be  sorrowful 
unto  the  death,  and  have  all  the  sorrows  of  death  come 
upon  him,  he  is  at  the  same  time  said  to  be  the  mighty 
God,  and  it  was  declared  the  »  government  should  be  upon 
his  shoulders.  As  he  was  the  first-begotton  from  the  dead, 
■viz.  both  submitting  to  death,  and  conquering  it,  so  he  was 
the  Prince  of  the  kings  of  the  earth,  (a  small  part  of  his 
kingdom  too,)  his  throne  being  founded  on  his  cross,  his 
governing  power  in  his  sacrifice;  i.  e.the  power  whereby 
he  so  governs,  as  that  he  may  also  save ;  making  these 
two  things,  the  salving  the  rights  of  the  Godhead,  injured 
by  sin,  and  the  delivering  of  the  sinner  from  an  eternal 
ruin,  to  agree  and  consist  with  one  another. 

What  an  endearing  obligation  is  this  to  obey!  That  he 
will  be  the  author  of  eternal  salvation  to  them  that  obey 
him  I  Inasmuch  as,  while  our  obedience  cannot  merit  the 
least  thing  from  him,  yet  his  vouchsafing  to  govern  us  doth 
most  highly  merit  from  us.  For  he  governs  by  writing  his 
law  in  the  heart,  which  makes  our  heart  agree  with  the 
law ;  and  by  implanting  divine  love  in  us,  which  van- 
quishes enmity  and  disaffection,  and  virtually  contains  in 
itself  our  obedience,  or  keeping  his  commandments,  John 
xiv.  15,  23.  and  1  John  v.  3.  Therefore  this  government 
of  his,  over  us,  is  naturally  necessary  to  our  salvation  and 
blessedness,  and  is  the  inchoation  and  beginning  of  it:  as 
our  perfected  lov^e  to  God,  and  conformity  to  his  nature  and 
will,  do  involve  and  contain  in  themselves  our  complete 
and  perfect  blessedness,  with  which  a  continued  enmity, 
or  a  rebellious  mutinous  disposition  against  God,  is  natu- 
rally inconsistent,  and  would  be  to  us,  and  in  us,  a  per- 
petual, everlasting  hell. 

There  can  therefore  be  no  enthralling  servitude  in  such 
obedience,  but  the  truest  liberty,  that  by  which  the  Son 
makes  us  free  indeed,  John  viii.  36.  Yea,  a  true  sort  of 
royalty :  for  hereby  we  come,  in  the  most  allowable  sense, 
to  live  as  we  will,  our  will  being  conformed  to  the  will  of 
God.  Whereupon  that  was  no  high  extravagant  rant,  but 
a  sober  expression,  "  We  are  born  in  a  kingdom  ;  to  serve 
God  is  to  reign." 

And  we  know  this  to  be  the  will  of  God,  y  that  all 
should  honour  the  Son,  as  they  honour  the  Father.  Here- 
with will  the  evangelically  obedient  comport  with  high 
complacency;  accounting  him  most  highly  worthy  that  it 
should  be  so.  Wherein  therefore  the  Christian  law  seems 
strictest  and  most  rigorous  in  the  enjoined  observance  of 
our  Lord  Christ,  herein  we  shall  discern  an  unexception- 
able reasonableness,  and  comply  with  a  complacential  ap- 
probation. And  let  us  put  our  own  hearts  to  it,  and  see 
that  without  regret  or  obmurmuration  they  can  readily 
consent  to  the  equity  of  the  precept. 

S  Isa.  ix.  6,  y  John  v.  23. 


'Tis  enjoined  us,  constructively  at  least,  that  because 
Christ  died  for  us,  when  we  were  dead,  quite  lost  in  death, 
we  that  live,  hereupon  should  settle  this  with  ourselves  as 
a  fixed  judgment,  and  upon  that  intervening  judgmeilt 
yield  to  the  constraint  of  his  love,  so  as  hencel'orth  no  more 
to  live  to  ourselves:  q.  d.  God  forbid  we  should  henceforth 
be  so  profane  !  We  must  now  for  ever  have  done  with  that 
impious,  unlawful  way  of  living.  What !  after  thi?,  that 
we  have  so  fully  understood  the  state  of  our  case,  that  we 
should  be  so  assuming  as  ever  again  to  offer  at  such  a  thing 
as  living  to  ourselves,  to  make  ourselves  deities  to  our- 
selves; or  to  live  otherwise  than  unto  him  who  died  for 
us,  and  rose  again  !  2  Cor.  v.  14,  15.  This  is  high  and 
great,  and  may  seem  strict  and  severe.  What  1  to  have  the 
whole  stream  of  all  the  actions  and  aims,  the  strength  and 
vigour  of  our  lives,  to  be  carried  in  one  entire,  undivided 
current  unto  him,  and  (as  it  must  be  understood.  Gal.  ii. 
19.)  to  God  in  him,  so  as  never  more  to  live  to  ourselves, 
a  divided,  separate  life  apart  from  him,  or  wherein  we  shall 
not  finally  and  more  principally  design  tor  him !  How  higl 
is  his  claim,  but  how  equal  and  grateful  to  a  right  mind 
With  what  a  plenitude  of  consent  is  every  divine  command 
(taking  this  into  the  account)  esteemed  to  be  right  in  all 
things  !  So  as  that  whatsoever  is  opposite,  is  hated  as  a  false 
way,  Psal.  cxix.  128.  And  as  the  precept  carries  its  own 
visible  reason,  the  keeping  of  it  carries  its  own  reward  in 
itself,  Psal.  xix.  11.  And  is  it  too  much  for  him  who 
bears  these  keys,  and  obtained  them  on  such  terms,  and 
for  such  ends,  to  be  thus  aflfected  towards  himi 

We  are  required,  without  exception,  without  limitation 
or  reserve,  whatsoever  we  do,  whether  in  word  or  work,  to 
do  all  in  the  name  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  Col.  iii.  17. 

Inquire  we.  Do  our  hearts  repine  at  this  law  ■?  Do  not 
we  1  Doth  not  this  world  owe  so  much  to  him  1  Whj'' 
are  we  allowed  a  place  and  a  time  here  1  Why  is  not 
this  world  a  flaming  theatre  1  Is  it  not  fit  every  one  should 
know  under  whose  government  they  live;  by  whose  bene- 
ficence, under  whose  protection,  and  in  whose  name  they 
may  act  so  or  so,  and  by  whose  authority  ;  either  obliging, 
or  not  restraining  them,  requiring,  or  licensing  them  to  do 
this  or  that  1  Doth  this  world  owe  less  to  him,  that  bears 
these  keys,  than  Egypt  did  to  Joseph,  when  thus  the  royal 
word  went  forth  in  reference  to  him,  "  I  am  Pharaoh,  and 
without  thee  shall  no  man  lift  up  his  hand  or  foot  in  all 
the  land  of  Egypt  1"  How  pleasant  should  it  be  to  our 
souls,  olten  to  remember  and  think  on  that  name  of  his 
which  we  bear,  (Isa.  xxvi.  8.  Mai.  iii.  16.)  and  draw  in  as 
vital  breath,  the  '  sweet  odours  of  it,  Cant.  i.  3.  How  glo- 
rious a  thing  should  we  count  it,  because  he  is  the  Lord 
our  God,  to  walk  in  his  name  forever  and  ever,  as  all  peo- 
ple will  walk  every  one  in  the  name  of  their  god,  Mic.  iv. 
5.  And  then  we  shall  account  it  no  hard  law,  whatever 
we  do,  to  do  all  in  the  name  of  our  Lord  Jesus,  giving 
thanks  to  God  the  Father  by  him,  and  for  him;  blessing 
God  every  day,  that  we  are  put  by  him  under  the  mild 
and  merciful  government  of  a  Redeemer.  Then  we  shall 
rejoicingly  avow,  as  the  apostle  doth,  (1  Cor.  ix.  21.)  that 
we  are  not  without  law  to  God,  but  under  law  to  Christ. 

Whereupon,  when  you  find  your  special  relation  is  thus 
settled  atid  fixed  unto  the  great  Lord  both  of  this  present 
visible  world,  and  of  hades,  or  the  invisible  world,  also  by 
your  solemn  covenant  with  him,  and  evidenced  by  the 
continued  correspondency  of  your  heart  and  life,  3'our  dis- 
positions and  actions,  thereunto, 

7.  Do  not  regret  or  dread  to  pass  out  of  the  one  world 
into  the  other  at  his  call,  and  under  his  conduct,  though 
through  the  dark  passage  of  death ;  remembering  the  ke)'^s 
are  in  so  great  and  so  kind  a  hand;  and  that  his  good 
pleasure  herein  is  no  more  to  be  distrusted,  than  to 
be  disputed  or  withstood.  Let  it  be  enough  to  you, 
that  what  you  cannot  see  yourself,  he  sees  for  you. 
You  have  oft  desired  your  ways,  your  motions,  your 
removals  from  place  to  place,  might  be  directed  by  him 
in  the  world.  Have  you  never  said.  If  thou  go  not 
with  me,  carry  me  not  hence  1  How  safely  and  fear- 
lessly may  you  follow  him  blindfold  or  in  the  dark  any 
whither;  not  only  from  place  to  place  in  this  world,  but 
from  world  to  world  ;  how  lightsome  soever  the  one,  rmd 
gloomy  and  dark  the  other  may  seem  to  you.    Darkness 

I  Psal.  slv.  6—11,     John  XX.  23. 


OVER  THE  INVISIBLE  WORLD. 


319 


and  light  are  to  him  alike.  To  him,  hades  is  no  Iuide$,  nor 
is  the  dark  way  lliat  leads  into  it  lu  him  an  untrodden  path. 
Shrink  not  at  ilie  thoughts  of  this  translation,  though  it  be 
not  by  escaping  death,  but  even  through  the  jaws  of  it. 

We  commonly  e.vcuse  our  aversion  to  die,  by  alleging 
that  nature  regrets  it.  But  we  do  not  enough  consider, 
that  in  such  a  compounded  sort  of  creature  as  we  are,  the 
word  nature  must  be  ambiguous.  There  is  in  us  a  sensi- 
tive nature  that  regrets  it ;  but  taking  the  case  as  it  is  now 
stated,  can  we  think  it  tolerable,  that  it  should  be  regretted 
by  the  reasonable  nature  ?  Unto  which,  if  we  appeal,  can 
we  suppose  it  so  untrue  to  itself,  as  not  to  assert  its  own 
superiority "?  Or  to  judge  it  fit  that  an  intelligent,  im- 
mortal spirit,  capable  of  so  great  things  in  another  world, 
should  be  content  with  a  long  abode  here,  only  to  keep  a 
well-figured  piece  of  flesh  from  putrelying,  or  give  it  the 
satisfaction  of  tasting  meats  and  drinks  that  are  grateful 
to  it,  for  a  few  years  ?  And  if  for  a  few,  why  not  for  ma- 
ny 1  And  when  those  many  were  expired,  why  not  for  as 
many  more  ]  And  the  same  reason  always  remaining, 
why  not  for  always  1  The  case  is  thus  put,  because  the 
common  meaning  of  this  allegation,  that  nature  regrets  or 
abhors  this  dissoluiion,  is  not  that  they  are  concerned  for 
their  souls  how  it  may  fare  with  them  in  another  world, 
which  the  most  little  mind  or  trouble  themselves  about ; 
but  that  they  are  lo  have  what  is  grateful  to  them  in  this 
world.  And  was  this  the  end  a  reasonable  spirit  was  made 
for,  when,  without  reason,  sense  were  alike  capable  of  the 
same  sort  of  gratifications  ?  What  law,  what  equity,  what 
rule  of  decency,  can  oblige  the  soul  of  a  man,  capable  of 
the  society  and  enjoyment  of  angels,  to  this  piece  of  self- 
denial,  for  the  sake  of  his  incomparably  baser  body  "?  or 
can  make  it  fit  that  the  nobler  and  more  excellent  nature 
should  be  eternally  subservient  to  the  meaner  and  more 
ignoble  1  Especially,  considering  thai  if,  according  to  the 
case  supposed,  the  two  last  foregoing  directions  be  com- 
plied with,  there  is  a  sort  of  divine  nature  superadded  to 
the  whole  human  nature,  that  cannot  but  prompt  the  soul 
ennobled  by  it,  to  aspire  to  suitable,  even  to  the  highest, 
operations  and  enjoyments  whereof  it  is  capable,  and  which 
are  not  attainable  in  this  present  bodily  state. 

And  if  there  were  still  a  dispute  between  nature  and 
nature,  'tis  enough  that  the  great  Lord  of  hides,  and  of  this 
present  sensible  world  too,  will  determine  it.  In  a  far 
lower  instance,  when  the  general  of  an  army  commands 
it  upon  an  enterprise,  wherein  life  is  to  be  hazarded,  it 
would  be  an  ill  excuse  of  a  cowardly  beginning,  lo  .'ay, 
their  nature  regrets  and  dreads  the  adventure.  The  thing 
is  necessary.  Against  what  is  so  unavoidable  as  death, 
that  is  an  abject  mind  that  reluctales.'' 

Come,  then,  let  us  imbolden  ourselves  ;  and,  when  he 
brings  the  key,  dare  to  die.  It  is  to  obey  and  enjoy  him, 
who  is  our  life  and  our  all.  Say  we  cheerfully  each  of 
us,  Lord  Jesus,  receive  my  spirit ;  into  thy  hands  I  com- 
mit it,  who  hast  redeemed  it. 

8.  Let  us  quietly  submit  to  Divine  disposal,  when  our 
dear  friends  and  relatives  are  by  death  taken  away  from 
us.  For  consider  into  what  hands  this  affair  is  put,  of  or- 
dering ever}'  one's  decease,  and  removal  out  of  this  into 
the  other  world,  and  who  hath  the^e  keys.  'Tis  such  a 
one,  whose  right,  if  we  use  our  thou<jhts,  vve  w  ill  not  allow 
ourselves  to  dispute;  or  to  censure  his  administration.  His 
original  right,  is  that  of  a  Creator  and  a  God.  "  For  all 
things  were  created  for  him,  and  by  him,"  Col.  i.  16. 
"And  without  him  was  nothing  made  that  was  made," 
John  i.  3.  "  The  first  and  the  last"  to  all  things,  Rev.  i.  17. 

His  supervening  right  was  tliat  of  a  Redeemer,  as  hath 
been  already  noted  from  this  context,  and  as  such  he  had 
it  by  acquisition,  dying  to  obtain  it,  and  overcoming  death  ! 
"I  am  he  that  liveth  and  was  dead."  And  tlien,  as  he 
elsewhere  declares,  by  constitution,  "All  power  is  given 
me  bo'h  in  heaven  and  on  earth,"  Matt,  xxviii.  18.  The 
word  (;^«ai/i)  imports  rishtfnl  pnirer.  And  who  are  we,  or 
any  relatives  of  ours,  whom  all  ihe  power  of  heaven  and 
earth  ha'h  no  right  to  touch  1  What  exempt  jurisdiction 
can  we  pretend  ourselves  to  belong  unto  1 

Or  will  we  adventure  to  say,  not  denying  his  right.  He 
did  not  use  it  well  in  this  case  ]  Who  is  more  fitly  quali- 
fied to  judge,  than  he  that  hath  these  keys?     And  let  this 

a  Miser  est  quicunque  non  vult,  Muiido  secummorionle,  inori.  .Sen.  Tr. 


matter  be  yet  more  thoroughly  discussed.  What  is  it  that 
we  find  fault  with  in  the  renjoval  of  this  or  that  person, 
that  was  near  and  delightful  to  usl  Is  it  that  he  was  to 
die  at  all  1  Or  that  he  died  .so  soon  1  If  we  say  the  for- 
mer ;  do  we  blame  the  constitution  appointing  all  men 
once  to  die,  by  which  this  world  is  made  a  portal  to  ano- 
ther, for  all  men,  and  whence  it  was  necessary  none  should 
stay  long  in  this,  but  only  pass  through,  into  that  world 
wherein  every  one  is  to  have  his  everlasting  abode  1  Or 
is  it  that,  when  we  think  it  not  unfit  this  should  be  the  ge- 
neral and  common  course,  there  should  yet  have  been  a 
particular  di.'<pensation  for  this  friend  or  relation  of  mine  1 

Let  the  former  be  supposed  the  thing  we  quarrel  at,  and 
consider  the  intolerable  consequences  of  the  matter's  being 
otherwise,  as  the  case  is  with  this  apostate  sinful  world. 
Such  as  upon  second,  better  weighed  thoughts,  we  would 
abhor  to  admit  into  our  mind^,  even  as  the  matter  of  a 
wish.  What !  would  we  wish  lo  mankind  a  sinning  im- 
mortality on  this  earth,  before  which  a  wise  heathen  ''pro- 
fessed to  prefer  onedayvirttiously  spent  1  Would  we  wish 
this  world  to  be  the  everlasting  stage  of  indignities  and 
affronts  to  him  that  made  hi  Would  we  wish  there  should 
never  be  a  judgment-day,  and  that  all  the  wi.se  and  righte- 
ous counsels  of  heaven  should  be  transversed  and  over- 
turneil,  only  to  comport  with  our  terrene  and  sensual  incli- 
nations 1  Is  this  our  dutifulness  and  loyal  affection  to  our 
blessed  Lord,  the  Author  of  our  beings,  and  the  God  of  our 
lives,  whose  rights  and  honours  should  be  infinitely  dear- 
er to  us  than  ourselves  1  Is  it  our  kindness  to  ourselves, 
and  all  others  of  our  kind  and  order,  that  are  all  naturally 
capable,  and  many,  by  gracious  vouchsafement,  fitly  qua- 
lified, to  enjoy  a  perfect  felicity  in  another  world,  that  we 
would  have  altogether  confined  for  ever  lo  this  region  of 
darkness,  impurity,  and  misery  1 

Or  if  it  displease  us,  that  our  relatives  are  not,  by  some 
special  dispensation,  excepted  from  the  common  law  of 
mortality,  we  would  surely  as  much  have  expected  an  ex- 
emption ourselves  ;  otherwise,  our  dying  away  from  them, 
would  make  the  so  much  regretted  separati*n,  as  well  as 
theirs  from  us.  And  what  then,  if  we  were  required  to 
draw  up  our  petition,  to  put  it  into  express  words,  to  U:rn 
our  wish  for  ourselves,  and  all  our  relatives  and  pe'u- 
liar  friends,  into  a  formed,  .solemn  prayer,  lo  this  eflect, 
that  we  are  content  the  law  stand  in  "force,  that  all  the 
world  should  die,  with  only  the  exception  of  some  few 
names;  viz.  our  own,  and  of  our  kindred  and  more  in- 
ward friends'?  What  ashamed  confounded  creatures  should 
we  be  upon  the  view  of  our  own  request  I  Wouhl  we  not 
presently  be  for  quelling  and  suppressing  it,  and  easily 
yield  to  be  non-suited,  without  more  ado  ?  What  pretence 
can  we  have  not  to  think  others  as  api  to  make  ihe  same 
request  for  them  and  theirs  ^.  And  if  all  the  rest  of  the 
world  shall  die,  would  we  and  our  friends  dwell  here  alone, 
or  would  we  have  this  world  be  continued  habitable  only 
on  this  private  account,  to  gratify  a  family  1  And  if  we 
and  our  friends  be  holy,  heavenly-minded  per.sons,  how 
unkind  were  it  lo  wish  to  ourselves  and  them,  when  fit  for 
the  .society  of  angels  and  blessed  spirits  above,  a  perpetual 
abode  in  this  low  earthly  state  !  Would  we  not  row,  upon 
riper,  second  thoughts,  rather  be  content  that  things  should 
rest  as  they  are,  and  he  that  hath  these  keys,  use  ihem  his 
own  way. 

But  if  by  all  this  we  are  put  quite  out  of  conceit  with 
the  desire  of  a  terrestrial  immortality,  all  that  the  matter 
finallv  results  into  is,  that  we  think  such  a  relative  of 
ours  died  too  soon.  We  would  not  have  coveted  for  him 
an  eternity  on  earth,  but  only  more  time.  And  how 
much  more  1  Or  for  what  1  If  we  were  lo  set  the  time, 
'tis  like  that  when  it  comes,  we  should  be  a.s  averse  to  a  se- 
paration, if  coexistent,  then,  as  now  ;  and  so  we  revolve 
into  the  exploded  desire  of  a  terrestrial  immortality  back 
again  at  last.  If  we  were  to  assign  the  rea.son  of  our  de- 
sire, that  would  seem,  as  in  the  present  case,  a  plausible 
one  lo  some,  which  is  mentioned  by  Plutarch  in  his  con- 
solation to  Apollonius  for  the  loss  of  his  son,  concerning 
another  such  ca^e,  (as  he  instances  in  many,)  of  one  Ely- 
sius,  an  Italian,  whose  loss  of  his  .son  Euthynouswas  much 
aggravated  by  this,  that  he  was  a  great  heir.  But  what 
was  said  to  that,  there,  and  what  is  further  to  be  said  to 
b  Cicero. 


320 


THE  REDEEMER'S  DOMINION 


any  thing  of  that  kind,  I  shall  reserve  to  a  more  proper 
place. 

It  is  a  more  weighty  allegation,  and  of  more  common 
concernment,  when  a  useful  person  is  gone,  and  one  very 
capable  of  becoming  very  eminently  so.  And  this  re- 
quires deeper  consideration,  and  sundry  things  ought  to  be 
considered,  in  order  to  the  quieting  their  minds,  who  are 
apt  to  behold  such  darker  dispensations,  in  the  course  of 
providence,  with  amusement,  and  disturbance  of  .spirit; 
i.  e.  when  they  see  persons  of  excellent  endowments  and  ex- 
ternal advantages  beyond  the  most,  cut  off  in  their  prime, 
while  the  world  is  cumbered  with  drones  never  likely  to 
do  good,  and  pestered  with  such  as  are  like  to  prove 
plagues  to  it,  and  do  great  hurt  and  mischief  to  the  age 
wherein  they  live:  an  ancient  and  not  uncommon  scruple 
to  pious  observers  heretofore.  "  Wherefore,"  says  holy 
Job,  "  do  the  wicked  live,  become  old,  yea,  are  mighty  in 
power  ?  Their  seed  is  established  in  their  sight,"  ch.  xxi. 
7,  8.  when  his  seed  was  cut  off  before  his  eyes.  And  here 
let  us  consider, 

1.  That  this  world  is  in  apostacy  from  God ;  and  though 
he  is  pleased  to  use  apt  means  for  its  recovery,  he  doih 
what  he  thinks  fit  herein,  of  mere  grace  and  favour,  and 
is  under  no  obligation  to  do  all  that  he  can.  His  dispen- 
sation herein  must  correspond  to,  and  bear  upon  it,  the 
impress  of  other  divine  perfections,  his  wisdom,  holi- 
ness, justice,  as  well  as  grace.  And  for  grace  itself, 
whereas  all  since  the  apostacy  lie  together  in  a  fearful 
gulf  of  impurity  and  misery ;  and  some,  made  more  ear- 
ly spBsible  hereof  than  the  most,  do  stretch  out  a  craving 
hand,  and  cry  for  help.  If  now  a  merciful  hand  reached 
down  from  heaven  take  hold  of  them,  and  pluck  tliem 
sooner  out;  is  this  disagreeable  to  the  God  of  all  grace,  to 
make  some  such  instances,  and  vouchsafe  them  an  earlier 
deliverance  ;  though  they  might,  being  longer  delayed,  be 
some  way  helpful  to  others,  that  continue  stupid  and  in- 
sensible 1 

2.  When  he  hath  done  much,  in  an  age  still  obstinately 
unreclaimable,  he  may  be  supposed  to  let  one  appear,  only 
with  a  promising  a.spect,  and  in  just  displeasure  presently 
withdraw  him,  that  they  may  understand  they  have  forfeit- 
ed such  a  blessing,  to  this  or  that  country,  as  such  a  one 
might  have  proved. 

3.  This  may  awaken  some,  the  more  to  prize  and  im- 
prove the  encouragements  they  may  have  frOm  such  as 
remain,  or  shall  spring  up  in  their  stead,  who  are  gone, 
and  to  bless  God  that  the  weight  of  his  interest,  and  of  the 
cause  of  religion,  doth  not  hang  and  depend  upon  the  slen- 
der thread  of  this  man's  life.  "  The  God  of  the  spirits  of 
all  flesh"  can  raise  up  instruments  as  he  pleases;  and  will, 
to  serve  his  own  purposes,  though  not  ours. 

4.  He  will  have  it  known,  that  though  he  uses  instru- 
ments, he  needs  them  not.  'Tis  a  piece  of  divine  royalty 
and  magnificence,  that  when  he  hath  prepared  and  polished 
such  a  utensil,  so  as  lo  be  capable  of  great  service,  he  can 
lay  it  by  without  loss. 

5.  They  that  are  most  qualified  to  be  of  greatest  use  in 
this  world,  are  thereby  also  the  more  capable  of  blessed- 
ness in  the  other.  'Tis  owing  to  his  most  munificent  boun- 
ty, that  he  may  vouchsafe  to  reward  sincere  intentions,  as 
highly  as  great  services.  He  took  David's  having  it  in  his 
heart  to  build  him  a  house,  as  kindly  as  Solomon's  build- 
ing him  one:  and  as  much  magnifies  himself  in  testifying 
his  acceptance  of  .such  as  he  discharges  from  his  service 
here,  at  the  third  hour,  as  of  them  whom  he  engages  not 
in  it  till  the  eleventh. 

6.  Of  their  early  piety  he  makes  great  present  use  in 
this  world,  testifying  his  acceptance  of  their  works,  gene- 
rally in  his  word,  and  particularly  by  the  reputation  he 
procures  to  them  in  the  minds  and  consciences  of  such  as 
were  best  able  to  judge,  and  even  of  all  that  knew  them, 
which  may  be  truly  accounted  a  divine  testimony  ;  both  in 
respect  of  the  object,  which  hath  on  it  a  divine  impress, 
and  speaks  a  self-recommending  power  of  true  goodness, 
which  is  the  image  of  God,  and  in  respect  of  the  subject, 
shows  the  dominion  God  hath  over  minds;  engaging  not 
only  good  men  to  behold  with  complacency  such  pleasant, 
blooming  goodness,  correspondent  to  their  own,  but  even 


bad  men  to  approve  in  these  others  what  they  entertain 
not  in  themselves.  "  The  =  same  things  are  accepted  with 
God,  and  approved  of  men,"  Rom.  xiv.  18.  "  Thus  b«;ing 
dead,  they,  as  Abel,  yet  speak." 

7.  And  it  is  a  brighter  and  more  unsullied  testimony, 
which  is  left  in  the  minds  of  men,  concerning  such  very 
hopeful  persons  as  die  in  their  youth.  They  never  were 
otherwise  known,  or  can  be  remembered,  than  as  excel- 
lent young  persons.  This  is  the  only  idea  which  remains 
of  them.  Had  ihey  lived  longer,  to  the  usual  age  of  man, 
the  remembrance  of  what  they  were  in  youth  would  have 
been  in  a  great  degree  effaced  and  worn  out  by  latter  things; 
perhaps  blackened,  not  by  what  were  less  commendable, 
but  more  ungrateful  to  the  greater  part,  especially  if  they 
lived  to  come  into  public  stations.  Their  just  zeal  and 
contestations  against  the  wickedness  of  the  age,  might  dis- 
oblige many,  and  create  them  enemies,  who  would  make 
it  their  busmess  to  blast  them,  and  cast  upon  their  name 
and  memory  all  the  reproach  they  could  invent.  Where- 
as the  lustre  of  that  virtue  and  piety  which  had  provoked 
nobody,  appears  only  with  an  amiable  look,  and  leaves  be- 
hind nothing  of  such  a  person  but  a  fair,  unblemished,  al- 
luring, and  instructive  example;  which  they  that  observed 
them  might,  witli  less  prejudiced  minds,  compare  with  the 
useless,  vicious  lives  of  many  that  they  see  to  have  filled 
up  a  room  in  the  world,  unto  extreme  old  age,  either  to  no 
purpose,  or  to  very  bad.  And  how  vast  is  the  difference 
in  respect  of  usefulness  to  the  world,  between  a  pious 
young  gentleman  dying  in  his  youth,  that  lived  long  in  a 
little  time,  untainted  by  youthful  lusts  and  vanities,  and 
victorious  over  them,  and  an  accursed  sinner  of  a  hundred 
years  old  :  (Isa.  Ixv.  20.)  one  that  was  an  infant  of  days, 
and  though  a  hundred  years  old,  yet  still  a  child,  that  had 
not  filled  up  his  days  with  any  thing  of  real  value  or  pro- 
fit to  himself  or  others,  (as  some  very  judicious  expositors 
understand  '^  that  text,)  that,  as  he  aptly  speaks,  had  no- 
thing besides  gray  hairs,  and  wrinldcs,  to  make  him  be  thoitght 
a,  long  liver;  but  who  might  truly  be  said  not  to  have 
lived  long,  but  only  to  have  been  long,  in  the  world.  How 
sweet  and  fragrant  a  memory  doth  the  one,  how  rotten  and 
stinking  a  name  doth  the  other,  leave  behind  him  to  survi- 
vors ! 

Therefore  such  very  valuable  young  persons  as  are  taken 
hence  in  the  flower  of  their  age,  are  not  to  be  thought,  upon 
that  account,  of  usefulness  to  this  world,  to  have  lived  in  it 
that  shorter  time  in  vain. 

They  leave  behind  them  that  testimony  which  will  turn 
to  account,  both  for  the  glory  of  God's  grace,  which  he 
hath  exemplified  in  them,  and  which  may  be  improved  to 
the  good  of  many  who  shall  have  seen  that  a  holy  life, 
amidst  the  temptations  that  a  youthful  age  is  exposed  to,  is 
no  impracticable  thing;  and  that  an  early  death  is  as  pos- 
sible also  to  themselves. 

But  besides  their  no  little  usefulness  in  this  world,  which 
they  leave,  we  must  know, 

8.  That  the  affairs  and  concernments  of  the  other  world, 
whither  they  go,  are  incomparably  greater  every  way,  and 
much  more  considerable.  And  to  this  most  unquestion  • 
able  maxim  must  be  our  last  and  final  resort,  in  the  present 
case.  All  the  perturbation  and  discomposure  of  mind 
which  we  suffer  upon  any  such  occasion,  arises  chiefly  from 
our  having  too  high  and  great  thoughts  of  this  world,  and 
too  low  and  diminishing  thoughts  of  the  other ;  and  the 
evil  must  be  remedied  by  rectifying  our  apprehensions  in 
this  matter.  Because  that  other  world  is  hades,  unseen, 
and  not  within  the  verge  of  our  sense,  our  sensual  minds 
are  prone  to  make  of  it  a  very  little  thing,  and  even  next 
to  nothing,  as  too  many  will  have  it  to  be  quite  nothing  at 
all.  We  are  concerned,  in  duty  to  our  blessed  Redeemer 
and  Lord,  and  for  his  just  honour,  to  magnify  this  his 
prefecture,  and  render  it  as  great  to  ourselves  as  the  mat- 
ter requires,  and  as  our  very  narrow  minds  can  admit: 
and  should  labour  to  correct  it  as  a  great  and  too  common 
fault,  a  very  gross  vulgar  error,  to  conceive  of  persons 
leaving  this  world  of  ours,  as  if  they  hereby  became  useless; 
and,  upon  the  matter,  lost  out  of  the  creation  of  God.  So 
is  our  fancy  prepossessed  and  filled  with  delusive  images, 
that  throng  in  upon  it  through  our  unwary  senses,  that  we 

d  Not!  est  quod  qiienquam  propter  canos  aut  niffas.  ni>to»  ■*'• 

ille  dm  v!Mt^.>.i  "-•  <•-•*     ■• 


OVER  THE  INVISIBLE  WORLD. 


321 


imagine  this  little  spot  of  our  earth  to  be  -the  only  place 
of  business,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  creation  to  be  mere 
vacuity,  vast  empty  space,  where  there  is  nothing  to  do, 
and  nothing  to  be  enjoyed.  Not  that  these  are  formed, 
positive  thoughts,  or  a  settled  judgment,  with  good  men, 
but  they  are  floating  imaginations,  so  continually  obtruded 
upon  them,  from  (what  lies  next)  the  objects  of  sense,  that 
they  have  more  influence  to  aflcct  the  heart,  and  infer 
suitable,  sudden,  and  indeliberate  emotions  of  spirit,  than 
the  most  formed  judginent,  grounded  on  things  that  lie 
without  ihe  sphere  of  sense,  can  outweigh. 

And  hence  when  a  good  man  dies,  elder  or  younger, 
the  common  cry  is,  among  the  better  sort,  (for  the  other 
do  less  concern  themselves,)  "  O  what  a  loss  is  this  !  Not 
to  be  repaired !  not  to  be  borne !"  Indeed  this  is  better 
than  the  common  stupidity,  not  to  consider,  not  "  to  take 
it  to  heart,  when  the  righteous  man  perisheth,  or  is  taken 
away."  And  the  law  of  our  own  nature  obliges  and 
prompts  us  to  feel  and  regret  the  losses  which  afflicts  us. 
But  such  resentments  ought  to  be  followed  and  qualified 
by  greater  thoughts,  arising  from  a  superior  nature,  tliat 
ought  presently  to  take  place  with  us,  of  the  nobler  em- 
ployments which  God  calls  such  unto,  "  of  whom  this 
world  was  not  worthy,"  Heb.  xi.  38.  And  how  highly  his 
great  and  all-comprehending  interest  is  to  be  preferred  be- 
fore our  own,  or  the  interest  of  this  or  that  family,  countrj', 
or  nation,  on  earth  ! 

And  at  once  both  to  enlarge  and  quiet  our  minds,  on 
such  occasions,  we  should  partit-ularly  consider, 

I.  The  vast  amplitude  of  the  heavenly  hades,  in  com- 
parison of  our  minute  spot  of  earth,  or  of  that  dark  region, 
wheresoever  it  is,  reserved  for  the  just  punishment  of  delin- 
quents, according  to  such  intimations  as  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures give  us  hereof;  which  being  writ  only  for  the  use  of 
us  on  earth,  cannot  be  supposed  to  intend  the  giving  us 
more  distinct  accounts  of  the  state  of  things  in  the  upper 
world,  than  were  necessary  for  us  in  this  our  present  state. 
But  it  is  no  obscure  hint  that  is  given  of  the  spacious- 
ness of  the  heavenly  regions,  when  purposely  to  represent 
the  Divine  immensity,  'tis  said  of  the  unconfined  presence 
of  the  great  God,  that  even  heaven,  and  the  heaven  of 
heavens,  cannot  contain  him,  1  Kings  viii.  27.  2Chron. 
vi.  18.  How  vast  scope  is  given  to  our  thinking  minds, 
to  conceive  heavens  above  heavens,  encircling  one  another, 
till  we  have  quite  tired  our  faculty,  and  yet  we  know  not 
how  far  short  we  are  of  the  utmost  verge !  And  when 
our  Lord  is  said  to  have  ascended  far  above  all  heavens, 
(Eph.  iv.  10.)  who.se  arithmetic  will  suflice  to  tell  how 
many  they  are  1  whose  uranography  to  describe  how  far 
that  is  1 

We  need  not  impose  it  upon  ourselves  to  judge  their 
rules  infallible,  who,  being  of  no  mean  understanding,  nor 
indiligent  in  their  inquiries,  have  thought  it  not  impro- 
bable that  there  may  be  fixed  stars  within  view,  at  that 
distance  from  our  earth,  that  if  moveable  in  as  swift  motion 
as  that  of  a  bullet  shot  from  a  cannon,  would  be  fifty 
thousand  years  in  passing  from  one  to  the  other.  <=  But 
howmuch  remoter  that  star  maybe  from  the  utmost  verge 
of  the  universe,  is  left  altogether  unimaginable.  I  have 
been  told  that  a  very  ingenious  artist  going  about,  in  exact 
proportions,  to  describe  the  orb  or  vortex  to  which  our 
sun  belongs,  on  as  large  a  table  as  could  be  convenient 
for  him  to  work  upon,  was  at  a  loss  to  find  a  spot  not  too 
big,  in  proportion,  for  our  earth,  and  big  enough,  where- 
upon to  place  the  point,  made  very  fine,  of  one  foot  of  his 
compasses. 

If  any  .suspect  extravagancy  in  our  modern  computa- 
tions, let  him  take  a  view  of  what  is  discoursed  to  this 
purpose  by  a  writer  of  most  unexceptionable  wisdom  and 
sobriety,  as  well  as  most  eminent  sanctity,  in  his  time,  f 

Now  when  the  Lord  of  this  vast  universe  beheld  upon 
this  little  spot  intelligent  creatures  in  tran.sgression  and 
misery,  that  he  did  so  compassionately  concern  himself 
for  the  recovery  of  such  as  should,  by  apt  methods,  be  in- 

e  Computation liy  tlip  Hon  Francis  Rot>crU,  Esq.  Philosophical  Transactions 
for  the  months  of  March  and  April.  1691 

f  Bolton,  in  his  Four  Last  Things,  who  spealiing  of  lieaven.  directs  us  to 

guRss  tlie  iinniea,surahle  mairnitude  of  it,  (as  ollierwise so)  hv  the  incredilde 

di-itance  from  the  earth  totlio  starrj' tirmament ;  and  adds,  "ifl  should  here 
tell  you  the  several  conumtatiDiis  of  astronomers,  in  this  kind,  the  sums  would 
seem  to  exceed  alt  possihilityufhelief  "  And  he  annexes  in  his  marj^in  sundry 
computations  whicli  I  shall  not  here  recite :  you  may  find  tliem  in  the  author 


duced  to  comply  with  his  merciful  design;  and  appomt 
his  own  eternal  Son  to  be  their  Redeemer,  in  order  whereto, 
as  he  was  God  with  God,  he  must  also  become  Man 
among  men,  one  of  themselves;  and  so,  as  God-man,  for  his 
kindne.ssto.-iome,  be  constituted  universal  Lord  of  all  Shall 
mere  pity  towards  this  World  greaten  it  above  the  other  1 

But  we  are  not  left  without  ground  to  apprehend  a  more 
immediate  reason  for  his  being,  as  Redeemer,  made  Head 
and  Lord  of  all  those  creatures  that  were  the  original 
inhabitants  of  the  invisible  world.  For  when  it  had  been 
said,  (Col.  i.  16)  that  all  things  -were  created  by  him,  not 
only  the  visible  tilings  on  earth,  )>ut  the  invisible  things  in 
heaven,  here  is  a  regression  to  these  latter,  who  wei  e  before, 
for  their  greater  dignity,  generally  first  raent  ioned,  and  now 
.some  enumeration  given  of  them,  whether  they  be  thrones, 
or  dominions,  or  principalities,  or  powers;  and  all  things 
again  repeated,  that  these  might  appear  expressly  includ- 
ed ;  said  over  again  to  be  created  by  him,  and  for  him, 
which  was  sufficient  to  express  his  creative  right  in  them. 
'Tis  presently  subjoined,  (r.  17.)  "  And  he  is  before  all 
things,  and  by  him  all  things  consist."  All  owe  their  sta- 
bility to  him  ;  viz.  the  mentioned  thrones,  dominions,  &c. 
as  well  as  other  things.  But  how  ?  or  uprm  what  terms  1 
That  we  might  understand  his  redemptory  right  was  not 
here  to  be  overlooked,  'tis  shortly  after  added,  "  And  hav- 
ing made  peace  by  the  blood  of  his  cross,  it  pleaded  the 
Father"  (to  be  repeated  out  of  what  went  before)  "  by 
him  to  reconcile  all  things  to  himself;"  and  this  ^  Am, 
iterated;  q.  d.  "  B}'  him  shedding  his  blood  on  the  cross, 
whether  they  be  things  on  earth,  or  things  in  heaven ;" 
lest  the  thrones,  dominions,  mentioned  before,  should  be 
forgot.  And  a  word  is  used  accommodable  enough  to  the 
several  purposes  before  expressed,  -iTMaraXXofu,  which 
doth  not  always  suppose  enmity,  but  more  generallv  sig- 
nify, upon  a  sort  of  commutation,  or  valuable  considera- 
tion, to  procure  or  conciliate,  or  make  a  thing  more  firmly 
one's  own,  or  assure  it  to  himself;  though  'tis  afterwards 
used  in  a  stricter  sense,  v.  21. 

I  have  often  considered  with  wonder  and  pleasure,  that 
whereas  God  is  called  by  that  higher  and  far  more  exten- 
sive name,  the  Father  of  spirits,  he  is  also  pleased  so  gra- 
ciously to  vouchsafe,  as  to  be  styled  the  God  of  the  spirits 
of  all  flesh;  and  thereby  to  signify,  that  having  an  order 
of  spirits  so  meanly  lodged  that  inhabit  frail  and  mortal 
flesh,  though  he  have  a  world  of  spirits  to  converse  with 
whose  dwelling  is  not  with  flesh,  3'el  he  disdains  not  a  re- 
lation to  so  mean  and  abject  spirits,  his  offspring  also,  in 
our  world.  And  that,  because  this  was  the  place  of  offend- 
ing delinquents  that  he  would  recover,  the  Redeemer 
should  sort  himself  with  them,  and,  as  they  were  partakers 
of  flesh  and  blood,  himself  likewise  take  part  of  the  same  ! 
This  was  great  and  Godlike,  and  speaks  the  largeness  and 
amplitude  of  an  all-comprehending  mind,  common  to  Fa- 
ther and  Son,  and  capable  of  so  applying  itself  to  the 
greatest  things,  as  not  to  neglect  the  least ;  and  therefore 
so  much  the  more  magnifies  God  and  our  Redeemer,  by 
how  much  the  less  considerable  we  and  our  world  are. 
But  that  hence  w^e  should  so  over-magnify  this  world,  as 
if  nothing  were  considerable  that  lies  without  its  compass, 
is  most  perversely  to  misconstrue  the  most  amazing  con- 
descension. 

The  Spirit  of  God  by  holy  David,  teaches  us  to  reason 
the  quite  contrary  wa}' ;  and  from  the  consideration  he  bad 
of  the  vastness  and  .splendour  of  the  upper  world,  of  the 
heavens,  the  moon  and  stars,  &c.  not  to  magnify,  but  di- 
minish, our  world  of  mankind,  and  say.  What  is  man? 

And  let  us  further  consider, 

2.  The  inexpressible  numerousness  of  the  other  world's 
inhabitants,  with  the  excellencies  wherein  they  shine,  ana 
the  orders  they  are  ranked  into,  and  how  unlikely  is  it, 
that  holy  sotrls  that  go  thither  should  want  employment. 
Great  concourse  and  multitudes  of  people  make  places  of 
business  in  this  world,  and  must  much  more  do  so,  where 
creatures  of  the  most  spiritual  and  active  natures  must  be 

himself,  p-  -21  And  yet  liosidcs,  as  he  further  adds,  the  late  leaniedest  of  trtem 
place  al«ive  tlie  SIh  spheR'.  wherein  all  thse  glorious  lamps  .«lriiie  so  hridit, 
three  niovinr  (mIis  nionv  Now  Ihe  empyrean  neaven  conijirehends  alF  iFiese-: 
how  tncouiprcluMisilile.  then,  musl  its  compass  and  £n*atness  necessarily  bet 
But  he  snpiK)ses  it  possilile.  theadvenliire  oi'malhematiciane  may  1k^  too  auda- 
cious and  peremptory,  &c  and  c  ncludcstlie  height  and  extent  of  the  hokvess 
to  be  beyop.d  all  human  investigation. 


322 


THE  REDEEMER'S  DOMINION 


supposed  to  have  their  residence.  Scripture  speaks  of 
myriads,  which  we  lead,  an  innumerable  company,  of  an- 
gels, besides  all  the  spirits  of  just  men ;  (Heb.  xii.)  who  are 
sometimes  said  to  be  more  than  tmy  one — which  we  cause- 
lessly s  render  maji,  could  number,  Rev.  vii.  And  when 
we  are  told  of  many  heavens,  above  all  which  our  Lord 
Jesus  is  said  to  have  ascended,  are  all  those  heavens  only 
amply  solitudes  1  uninhabited  glorious  deserts  1  When 
we  find  how  full  of  vitality  this  base  earth  of  ours  is  ;  how 
replenished  with  living  creatures,  not  only  on  the  .surface, 
but  within  it ;  how  unreasonable  is  it  to  suppose  the  nobler 
parts  of  the  universe  to  be  less  peopled  wiih  inhabitants, 
of  proportionable  spirituality,  activity,  liveliness,  and  vi- 
gour to  the  several  regions,  which  the  remoter  they  are 
from  dull  earth,  must  be  supposed  still  the  finer,  and 
apt  to  afford  fit  and  suitable  habitations  to  such  creatures'? 
Whether  we  suppose  pure  unclothed  spirits  to  be  the  na- 
tives in  all  those  heavens,  all  comprehended  under  the  one 
name  o{ angels,  or  whether,  as  .some  think  of  all  created 
spirits,  that  they  have  all  vital  union  with  some  or  other 
vehicles,  etherial  or  celestial,  more  or  less  fine  and  pure, 
as  the  region  is  to  which  they  belong,  having  gradually 
associated  unto  them  the  spirits  of  holy  men  gone  from  us, 
which  are  said  to  be  iaayyiXoi — angels' fellows,  {LM^e  xx. 
36.)  it  is  indifferent  to  our  purpose. 

Let  us  only  consider  them  all  as  intelligent,  spiritual 
beings,  full  of  holy  light,  life,  active  power,  and  love  to 
their  common  Lord  and  one  another.  And  can  we  ima- 
gine their  state  to  be  a  state  of  torpid  silence,  idleness,  and 
inactivity,  or  that  they  have  not  much  higher  and  nobler 
work  to  do  there,  than  they  can  have  in  such  a  world  as 
this,  or  in  such  bodies  as  here  they  lug  to  and  frol 

And  the  Scriptures  are  not  altogether  silent,  concerning 
the  distinct  orders  of  those  glorious  creatures  that  inhabit 
all  the  heavens  Avhich  this  upper  hades  must  be  understood 
to  contain ;  though  it  hath  not  provided  to  gratify  any  one's 
curiosity,  so  far  as  to  give  us  particular  accounts  of  their 
differences  and  distinctions.  And  though  we  are  not  war- 
rantable to  believe  such  conjectures  concerning  them  as 
we  find  in  the  supposititious  Dionysius's  Celestial  Hierar- 
chy, or  much  less  the  idler  dreams  of  Valentinus  and  the 
Gnosticks  about  their  ^Eo^ies,  with  divers  more  such  fic- 
tions; yet  we  are  not  to  neglect  what  God  hath  expressly 
told  us,  viz.  That  giving  us  some  account  of  the  creation 
in  the  hades,  or  the  invisible  part  of  it,  there  are  thrones, 
dominions,  principalities,  powers,  angels,  (and  elsewhere 
arch-angels,)  authorities;  (Col.  i.  16.  with  1  Pet.  iii.  21.) 
which  being  terms  that  import  order  and  government,  can 
scarce  allow  us  not  to  conceive,  that  of  all  those  numberless 
multitudes  of  glorious  creatures  that  replenish  and  people 
those  spacious  regions  of  light  and  bliss,  there  are  none 
who  belong  not  to  some  or  other  of  those  principalities  and 
dominions. 

Whence  therefore,  nothing  is  more  obvious  than  to  con- 
ceive, that  whosoever  is  adjoined  to  them,  ascending  out 
of  our  world,  presently  hath  his  station  assigned  him,  is 
made  to  know  his  post,  and  how  is  to  he  be  employed,  in 
the  service  and  adoration  of  the  sovereign  Lord  of  all,  and 
in  paying  the  most  regular  homage  to  the  throne  of  God 
and  the  Lamb  :  it  being  still  to  be  remembered,  that  God 
is  not  worshipped  there,  or  here,  as  an  hSdn,  or  as  though 
he  needed  any  thing,  since  he  gives  to  all  breath  and  be- 
ing, and  all  things;  (Acts  xvii.)but  that  the  felicity  of  his 
most  excellent  creatures  dolh  in  great  part  consist  in  act- 
ing perpetually  according  to  the  dictate  of  a  just  and  right 
mind ;  and  that  therefore  they  take  highest  pleasure  in 
prostration,  in  casting  down  their  crowns,  in  shrinking 
even  into  nothing,  before  the  original,  eternal,  siibsistent 
Being,  that  he  may  be  owned  as  the  All  in  all,  because 
they  follow,  herein,  a  most  satisfied  judgment,  and  express 
it  when  they  say,  "  Thuu  art  worthy,  O  Lord,  to  receive 
glory,  and  honour,  and  power,  for  thou  hast  created  all 
things,  and  for  thy  pleasure  they  are,  and  were  created, 
Rev.  iv.  IL  And  worthy  is  the  Lamb  that  was  slain,  to 
receive  riches,  and  wisdom,  and  strength,"  &c.  cA.  v.  12. 

And  they  that  rest  not  night  or  day  from  such  high  and 
glorious  employments,  have  they  nothing  to  do?  Or  will 
we  say  or  think,  because  we  see  not  how  the  henvenly  po- 
tentates lead  on  their  bright  legions,  to  present  themselves 

g  nvdeis. 


before  the  throne,  to  tender  their  obeisance,  or  receire 
commands  and  despatches  to  this  or  that  far  remote  dy- 
nasty ;  or  suppose  to  such  and  such  a  mighty  star,  (whereof 
there  are  so  numberless  myriads ;  and  why  should  we 
suppose  them  not  replenished  with  glorious  inhabitants'?) 
whether  they  fiy  as  quick  as  thought,  with  joyful  speed, 
under  the  all-seeing  Eye,  glad  to  execute  wise  and  just 
commands  upon  all  occasions.  But  alas !  in  all  this  we 
can  but  darken  counsel  with  words  without  knowledge. 
We  cannot  pretend  to  knowledge  in  these  things:  yet  it 
from  Scripture  intimations,  and  the  concurrent  reason  of 
things,  we  only  make  suppositions  of  what  may  be,  not 
conclusions  of  what  is;  let  our  thoughts  ascend  as  much 
higher  as  they  can.  I  see  not  why  they  should  fall  lower 
than  all  this.  And  because  we  cannot  be  positive,  will  we 
therefore  say  or  think  there  can  be  no  such  thing,  or  noth- 
ing but  dull  inactivity,  in  those  regions  1  Because  that 
other  world  is  hades,  and  we  see  nothing,  shall  we  make 
little  or  next  to  nothing  of  it  1  We  should  think  it  very 
absurd  reasoning,  (if  we  should  use  it  in  reference  to  such 
mean  trifles  in  comparison,  and  say,)  There  is  no  such 
thing  as  pomp  and  slate,  no  such  thing  as  action  or  busi- 
ness, in  the  court  of  Spain  or  France,  of  Persia  or  Japan, 
because  no  sound  from  thence  strikes  our  ear,  or  tht; 
beams  of  majesty  there  dazzle  not  our  eye. 

I  should  indeed  think  it  very  unreasonable  to  make  mere 
magnitude,  or  vast  extent  of  space,  filled  up  with  nothing 
but  void  air,  ether,  or  other  fine  matter,  (call  it  by  what 
name  you  will,)  alone,  or  by  itself,  a  very  considerable 
note  of  excellency  of  the  other  invisible  world,  above  this 
visible  world  of  ours.  But  I  reckon  it  much  more  unrea- 
sonable and  uniiiforced,  (to  say  no  more,)  by  any  princi- 
ples, either  of  philosophy  or  religion,  finding  this  world  of 
ours,  a  baser  part  of  the  creations,  so  full  of  life,  and  of 
living  inhabitants,  of  one  degree  or  another  ;  to  suppose 
the  nobler  parts  of  the  universe,  still  ascending  upwards, 
generally  unpeopled,  and  desert,  when  it  is  so  conceivable 
in  itself,  and  so  aptly  tending  to  magnify  our  Creator  and 
Redeemer,  that  all  the  upper  regions  be  fully  inhabited 
with  intelligent  creatures;  whether  mere  spirits,  unclothed 
wilh  any  thing  material,  or  united  with  some  other  matter, 
we  need  not  determine. 

And  whereas  Scripture  plainly  intimates,  that  the  apos- 
tate revolted  spirits  that  fell  from  God,  and  kept  not  their 
first  stations,  were  vastly  numerous;  we  have  hence  scope 
enough  for  our  thoughts  to  conceive,  that  so  spacious  re- 
gions being  replenished  with  intelligent  creatures,  always 
innocent  and  happy,  the  delinquents,  compared  with  them, 
may  be  as  despicable  for  their  paucity,  as  they  are  detest- 
able for  their  aposlacy  :  and  that  the  horrid  hades,  wherein 
they  are  reserved  to  the  blackness  of  darkness  for  ever, 
may  be  no  more  in  proportion,  nay,  unexpressibly  less, 
than  some  little  rocky  island,  appointed  as  a  place  of  pun- 
ishment for  criminals,  in  comparison  of  a  flourishing,  vast 
empire,  fully  peopled  with  industrious,  rich,  sober-minded, 
and  happy  inhabitants. 

We  might  further  consider, 

3.  The  high  perfection  they  presently  attain  to,  who  are 
removed,  thougji  in  their  younger  years,  out  of  this  into 
that  other  world. 

The  spirits  of  just  men  are  there  said  to  be  made  per- 
fect. Waiving  the  Olympic  metaphor,  which  is,  at  most, 
but  the  thing  signifying  ;  that  which  is  signified,  cannot  be 
less  than  the  concurrence  of  natural  and  moral  perfec- 
tion: the  perfecting  of  all  our  faculties,  mind,  will,  and 
active  power,  and  of  all  holv  and  gracious  excellencies, 
knowledge,  wisdom,  love,  holiness.  The  apastle  makes 
the  difference  be,  as  that  of  a  child,  and  that  of  a  man,  1 
Cor.  xiii.  And  would  any  one  that  hath  a  child  he  de- 
lights in,  wish  him  to  be  a  child  always,  and  only  capable 
of  childish  things?  Or  is  it  a  reasonable  imagination, 
thai  by  how  much  we  are  more  capable  of  action,  we  shall 
be  the  more  useless,  and  have  the  less  to  dol 

We  may  further  lastly  add,  that  which  is  not  the  least 
considerable, 

4.  That  all  the  active  services  and  usefulness  we  are 
capable  of  in  this  world,  are  but  transitory,  and  lie  within 
the  compass  of  this  temporary  state  of  things,  which  mu't 
have  an  end.     Whereas  the  business  of  the  other  world 


OVER  THE  INVISIBLE  WORLD. 


323 


belongs  to  our  final  and  eternal  state,  which  shall  never  be 
at  an  end.  The  most  extraordinary  qualifications  for  ser- 
vice on  earth,  must  hereafter;  if  not  by  the  cessation  of  the 
active  powers  and  principles  themselves,  as  tongues,  pro- 
phecies, and  such  knowledge  as  is  uncommon,  and  I'y  pe- 
culiar vouchsafement  afforded  but  to  a  few,  for  the  help  ol^ 
manv:  these  endowments,  designed  for  the  propagation  of 
the  Christian  faith,  and  for  the  stoppmg  the  rnouihs  of 
gainsayers,  must  in  the  use  and  exercise,  at  least  by  the 
cessation  of  the  objects  and  occasions,  fail,  and  cease,  and 
vanish  away,  1  Cor.  xiii.  8.  The  iike  may  be  said  of 
courage  and  Ibrtitude  to  contend  against  prevailing  wick- 
edness ;  skill,  ability,  with  external  advantages,  toprom.o'e 
the  impugned  interest  of  Christ,  and  Christian  religion  ;  of 
all  these  there  will  be  no  further  use  in  that  other  world. 
They  are  all  to  be  considered  as  means  to  the  end.  But 
how  absurd  were  it  to  reckon  the  means  of  greater  import- 
ance than  the  end  itself!  The  whole  present  constitution 
of  Christ's  kingdom  on  earth,  is  but  preparatory  and  in- 
troductive  to  the  celestial  kingdom.  And  how  absurd 
were  it  to  prefer  this  temporary  kingdom  to  the  eternal 
one,  and  present  serviceableness  to  this,  to  perpetual  ser- 
vice in  the  other  ! 

'Tis  true,  that  service  to  God  and  our  Redeemer  in  this 
present  state,  is  necessary  in  its  own  kind,  highly  accept- 
able to  God,  and  justly  much  valued  by  good  men.  And 
we  ought  ourselves  willingly  to  submit  to  serve  God  in  a 
meaner  capacity  in  this  world,  while  it  is  his  pleasure  we 
shall  do  so  ;  especially  if  God  should  have  given  any  sig- 
nification of  his  minil,  concerning  our  abode  in  the  flesh 
some  longer  time,  as  'tis  likely  he  had  done  to  the  apostle 
Paul,  (Phil.  i.  24.)  because  he  says,  he  was  confident,  and 
did  know,  that  so  it  should  be,  (;•.  25.)  we  .should  be  abun- 
dantly satisfied  with  it,  as  he  was.  But  to  suppose  an 
abode  here  to  be  simply  and  universally  more  eligible,  is 
very  groundless  and  unreasonable;  and  were  a  like  case, 
as  if  a  person  of  very  extraordinary  abilities  and  accom- 
plishments, because  he  was  u.seful  in  some  obscure  coun- 
try village,  is  to  be  looked  upon  as  lost,  because  his  prince, 
being  informed  of  his  great  worth,  calls  him  up  to  his 
court,  and  finding  him  every  way  fit,  employs  him  in  the 
greatest  affairs  of  state  ! 

To  sum  up  this  matter,  whereas  the  means  are  alwa)'s, 
according  to  usual  estimate,  wont  to  derive  their  value 
from  their  end;  time,  from  eternity;  this  judgment  of  the 
case,  that  usefulness  in  this  present  stale  is  of  greater  con- 
sequence and  more  important  than  the  affairs  of  the  other 
world,  breaks  all  measures,  overturns  the  whole  frame,  and 
inverts  the  order  of  things;  makes  the  means  more  valu- 
able than  the  end;  time  more  considerable  than  eternity; 
and  the  concernments  of  a  state  that  will  soon  be  over, 
greater  than  those  of  our  fixed,  permanent,  everlasting 
state,  that  will  never  be  over. 

If  we  would  allow  ourselves  the  liberty  of  reasoning, 
according  to  the  measure  and  compass  of  our  narrow 
minds,  biassed  and  contracted  by  private  interest  and  in- 
clination, we  should  have  the  like  plausible  things  to  think, 
concerning  such  of  ours  as  die  in  infancy,  and  that  when 
they  have  but  newly  looked  into  this  M'orld,  are  presently 
again  caught  out  of  it;  that  if  they  had  lived,  what  might 
they  have  come  to  !  How  pleasant  and  diverting  might 
their  childhood  have  been !  How  hopeful  their  youth  I 
How  useful  their  riper  age!  But  these  are  commonly 
thoughts  little  wiser  than  theirs,  and  proceed  from  gene- 
ral infidelity,  or  misbelief,  that  whatsoever  i.^  not  w^ithin 
the  compass  of  this  little,  sorry  world,  is  all  emptiness  and 
nullity !  Or  if  such  be  pious  and  more  considering,  'tis 
too  plain  they  do  not,  however,  consider  enough,  liow 
great  a  part  of  it  is  of  Divine  magnificence,  to  take  a  rea- 
sonable immortal  spirit  from  animating  a  piece  of  well- 
figured  clay,  and  presently  adjoin  it  to  the  general  assem- 
bly above  !  How  glorious  a  change  is  made  upon  their 
child  in  a  moment !  How  much  greater  a  thing  it  is  to 
be  adoring  God  above,  in  the  .society  of  angels,  than  to  be 
dandled  on  their  knee,  or  enjoy  the  best  provisions  they 
can  make  for  them  on  earth  !  That  they  have  a  part  to 
act  upon  an  eternal  stage!  and  though  thev  are  hut  lately 
come  into  being,  are  never  to  go  out  of  being  more,  but  to 
be  everlasting  monuments  and  instruments  of  the  glory 
of  their  great  Crea'or  and  Lord .' 


Nor,  perhaps,  is  it  considered  so  deeply  as  it  ought,  that 
it  hath  seemed  meet  to  the  Supreme  Wi^dom,  upon  a  most 
important  reason,  in  the  case  of  lengthening  or  shortening 
the  lives  of  men,  not  ordinarily,  or  otherwise  than  upon  a 
great  occasion,  to  interrupt  the  tendencies  of  natural 
causes.  But  let  nature  run  its  course:  for  otherwise, 
very  frequent  innovations  upon  nature  would  make  mira- 
cles cheap  and  common,  and  con>equently  useless  to  their 
j)roper,  great  ends,  which  may  lie  of  greater  significancy 
in  the  course  of  God's  government  over  the  world,  than 
some  addition  to  this  or  that  life  can  be  worth.  And  there- 
fore should  this  consideration  repress  our  wonderment, 
why  God  doth  not,  when  he  so  easily  can,  l)y  one  touch 
upon  this  or  that  second  cause,  prevent  or  ease  the  grievous 
pains  wliicli  they  often  suffer  that  love  him,  and  whom  he 
loves.  He  reckons  it  filter,  and  they  will  in  due  time  reckon 
so  too  themselves,  when  the  wise  methods  of  his  govern- 
ment come  to  be  unfolded  and  understood,  that  we  should 
any  of  us  bear  what  is  ungrateful  to  us,  in  point  of  pain, 
loss  of  friends,  or  other  unpleasing  events  of  Providence, 
than  that  he  should  make  frequent  and  less  necessary 
breaches  upon  the  common  order  and  course  of  government 
which  he  hath  established  over  a  delinquent,  sinful  world. 

Whereupon  it  is  a  great  piece  of  wisdom  and  dutiful- 
ness  towards  our  great  Lord,  not  to  pray  absolutely,  pe- 
remptorily, or  otherwise  than  with  great  submissifm  and 
deference  to  his  wise  and  holy  pleasure,  for  our  own  or 
our  friends'  lives,  ease,  outward  juosperity,  or  any  exter- 
nal or  temporary  good  thing.  For  things  that  concern  oar 
spiritual  and  eternal  welfare,  his  good  and  acceptable  will 
is  more  expressly  declared,  and  made  known  already  and 
before-hand. 

But  as  to  the  particular  ca.se  of  the  usefulness  of  any 
friend  or  relative  of  ours  in  this  or  the  other  state,  the 
matter  must  be  finally  left  to  the  arbilrement  and  disposal 
of  him  who  hath  the  keys  of  hodcs  and  of  death.  And 
when  by  his  turn  of  them  he  hath  decided  the  matter,  we 
then  know  what  his  mind  and  judgment  are,  which  it  is 
no  more  fit  for  us  to  censure,  than  possible  to  disannul. 
Whatever  great  purposes  we  might  think  one  cut  off"  in 
the  flower  of  his  age  capable  of  serving  in  this  world,  we 
may  be  sure  he  judged  him  capable  of  serving  greater  in 
the  other. 

And  now  by  this  time  I  believe  you  will  expect  to  have 
somewhat  a  more  particular  account  of  this  excellent 
young  gentleman,  whose  early  decease  hath  occasioned  my 
discoursing  so  largely  on  this  subject ;  not  more  largely 
than  the  importance,  but  much  less  accurately  than  the 
dignity,  of  it  did  challenge. 

He  "was  the  eldest  son  of  Sir  Charles  Hoghton,  of  Hogh- 
ton-Tower,  in  the  county  of  Lancaster,  Baronet,  and  of 
the  Lady  Mary,  daughter  of  the  late  Lord  Viscount  Ma.s- 
sarine,  his  very  pious  consort ;  a  family  of  eminent  note 
in  that  northern  part  of  the  kingdom,  for  its  antiquity,  opu- 
lenc}',  and  interest  in  the  country  where  it  is  seated  ;  and 
which  hath  intermarried  with  some  or  other  of  the  nobili- 
ty, one  generation  after  another ;  but  hath  been  most  of  all 
considerable  and  illustrious,  as  having  been  itself,  hmg, 
the  immemorial,  known  seat  of  religion,  sobriety,  and  good 
order,  from  father  to  son  ;  giving  example,  countenance, 
and  patronage,  to  these  praiseworthy  things  to  the  country 
round  about  ;  and  wherein,  hitherto,  through  the  singular 
favour  and  blessing  of  Heaven,  there  hatli  not  been  that 
visible  degeneracy  that  might  be  so  plainly  observed,  and 
sadly  deplored,  in  divers  great  families.  As  if  it  were 
an  exemption  from  what  was  so  anciently  remarked  by  the 
y^oe^,  ^fJin  parcntvm,  pcjor  oris.  cf-r.  But,  on  the  C(intrai y, 
such  as  have  succeeded,  have,  by  a  laudable  ambition  and 
emulation,  as  it  were,  striven  to  outshine  sueh  as  have 
gone  before  them,  in  piety  and  virtue. 

In  this  bright  and  lucid  tract  and  line,  was  this  most 
hopeful  voung  gentleman,  now  arrived  to  the  age  wherein 
we  use  to  write  man,  beginning  to  stand  up  in  view,  and 
to  draw  the  eyes  anti  raise  the  hopes  of  observers  and  well- 
wishers,  as  not  likely  to  come  short  of  any  of  his  worthy 
ancestors  and  predecessors.  But  Heaven  had  its  eye  upon 
him  too,  and  both  made  and  judged  him  meet  for  an  earlier 
translation,  to  a  more  eminent  station  there. 

He  was  from  his  childhood  observed  to  be  above  the 


324 


THE  REDEEMER'S  DOMINION 


common  rate,  docile,  of  quick  apprehension,  solid  judg- 
ment, and  retentive  memory,  and  betimes  a  lover  of  books 
and  learning. 

For  religion,  his  knowledge  of  the  principles  of  it  con- 
tinually grew,  as  his  capacity  did  more  and  more  admit, 
under  the  eye  and  endeavours  of  his  parents,  and  such 
other  instructors  as  they  took  care  he  should  never  want. 
But  his  savour  and  relish  thereof,  and  the  impression  made 
thereby  upon  his  soul,  was  so  deep,  and  so  early,  as  to  be 
apparently  owing  to  a  higher  cause,  the  gracious  opera- 
tion of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  a  singular  blessing  thereby, 
upon  his  pious  education.  And  in  this  way,  it  could  not 
be  easy,  to  such  as  were  his  most  diligent  and  constant 
observers,  to  conclude  or  conjecture  when  God  first  began 
to  deal  with  his  spirit. 

Above  ten  years  ago,  I  had  opportunity,  for  a  few  days, 
to  have  some  converse  with  him  in  his  father's  house ; 
and  as  I  could  then  perceive  his  spirit  wa-s  much  tinctured 
with  religion  ;  so  I  received  information,  that  for  a  con- 
siderable time  before,  there  constantly  appeared  to  him 
such  specimiiia  of  serious  piety,  as  were  very  comfortable 
to  his  parents,  and  might  be  instructive  to  others  that  took 
notice  of  them. 

In  the  course  of  divers  following  years,  he  greatly 
improved,  under  domestic  and  private  instruction,  both 
in  grammar-learning  and  academical  studies,  for  which 
he  wanted  not  apt  helps.  When  there  was  great  reason  to 
hope  he  was  so  well  established  in  religion  and  virtue  as 
neither  to  be  shocked  by  the  importunate  temptations  of  a 
sceptical  vicious  age  in  the  general,  or  betrayed  by  the 
facility  of  his  own  youthful  age,  his  prudent,  worthy 
father  judged  it  requisite,  and  not  unsafe,  to  adventure 
him  into  a  place  of  more  hazard,  but  greater  advantage  for 
his  accomplishment  in  that  sort  of  culture  and  polishing 
that  might,  in  due  time,  render  him  both  in  reality,  and 
with  better  reputation,  serviceable  in  apublic  station  ;  i.  e. 
where  he  might  gain  such  knowledge  of  the  world,  of  men, 
and  of  the  laws  of  his  countr}^  as  was  proper  for  his  rank, 
and  one  that  was  to  make  such  a  figure  in  the  nation,  as 
it  was  to  be  hoped  he  might :  and  upon  that  account,  not 
yet  a  year  ago,  brought  him  up  to  London,  entered  him  in 
the  Temple,  took  for  him  convenient  lodging  there,  and 
left  him  settled  unto  mutual  satisfaction. 

He  was  little  diverted  by  the  noise,  novelties,  or  the 
gayeties  of  the  town,  but  soon  betook  himself  to  a  course 
of  close  study;  discontinued  not  his  converse  with  God, 
and  thereby  learned,  and  was  enabled,  to  converse  with 
men  warily  and  with  caution  so  as  he  might  be  continu- 
ally improving  and  gaining  good,  without  doing  or  re- 
ceiving hurt. 

The  substance  of  the  following  account  I  received  from 
a  pious  intelligent  young  man,  who  several  years  attended 
him  before  his  coming  to  town,  and  afterwards,  to  the 
finishing  of  his  course. 

"  Mr.  Hoghton's  early  seriousness,  increased  with  his 
years.  His  deportment  was  grave,  composed,  without  any 
appearance  of  pride,  which  he  carefully  avoided.  His 
diligence  in  study  was  unusual,  and  his  proficiency  very 
great :  neither  was  this  less  an  effect  of  his  conscientious- 
ness in  the  improvement  of  his  time,  than  of  his  desire 
after  knowledge. 

"As  to  his  demeanour  and  performance  of  duties  to- 
wards his  several  relations,  his  self-denial,  his  sedateness 
of  mind,  his  fear  of  sin,  his  tenderness  of  conscience,  love 
of  the  best  things,  and  unconcernedness  about  things  of  an. 
inferior  nature,  so  far  as  hath  fallen  under  my  observation, 
in  near  six  years'  time,  I  believe  few,  if  any,  of  his  years, 
did  exceed  him. 

"  In  his  sickness  he  was  very  patient,  submissively  un- 
dergoing those  heavy  strokes  ii  pleased  God  to  lay  upon 
him. 

"  Upon  his  apprehension  of  death,  he  seemed  very  little 
discouraged,  but  quietly  resigned  himself  into  the  hands 
of  the  all-wise  Disposer  of  all  things. 

"  Some  time  before  his  sickness,  and  in  the  time  of  it, 
he  said,  afflictions  were  verv  proper  for"  God's  children; 
and  those  that  were  never  afflicted,  had  reason  to  question 
the  truth  of  their  crrace,  and  God's  love  to  them;  quoting 
that  scripture,  '  If  ye  are  without  chastening,  then  are  ye 
bastards  anJ  not  sons.' 


"He  often  repeated  those  words,  in  the  beginning  of  his 
illness:  'It  is  a  hard  thing  to  make  our  calling  and  our 
election  sure.' — '  I  desire  to  glorify  God.' 

"  When  he  understood,  from  some  expressions  of  his 
physician,  how  dangerous  his  distemper  was,  he  said  he 
knew  very  well  the  meaning  of  his  physician's  words  ;  but 
that  however  it  proved,  he  hoped  he  was  safe. 

"  He  was  so  strict  in  the  observation  of  the  Lord's  day, 
that  if  he  happened  to  lie  longer  than  ordinary  in  the 
morning,  he  would  continue  the  later  in  duties  in  the 
evening;  saying,  we  ought  not  to  make  that  day  shorter 
than  other  days. 

"  Though  he  was  very  intent  on  his  .studies,  yet  on  Sa- 
turdays he  always  broke  them  off  at  noon,  and  spent  the 
afternoon  in  reading  divinity,  and  preparing  himself  for 
the  Lord's  day. 

"  He  was  always  constant  in  his  secret  duties,  and  suf- 
fered nothing  to  hinder  him  from  the  performing  of  them. 

"  Before  he  expired,  he  spoke  with  great  assurance  of 
his  future  happiness,  and  hopes  of  meeting  his  relations  in 
glory."     Thus  far  goes  that  account. 

His  sickness  was  short.  When,  hearing  of  it,  I  went  to 
visit  him,  I  was  met  in  an  anti-chamber,  by  his  ingenious, 
dear  brother,  to  whom  it  is  no  reproach  to  be  second  to 
him,  and  who,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  will  be  at  least  truly  so : 
making  him,  though  a  fair  example,  yet  not  a  standard  ; 
who  hath  for  divers  years  been  most  intimately  conjunct 
and  conversant  with  him,  known  his  way,  his  spirit,  his 
manner  of  life,  his  purity  ;  and  maybe  led  on  and  excited 
thereby,  wherein  he  hath  observed  him  to  excel  others,  to 
endeavour  not  to  come  short,  but  if  it  were  possible,  to  ex- 
cel him  ;  remembering,  he  is  to  be  the  next  solace  of  his 
parents,  hope  of  his  family,  and  resort  of  his  country,  if 
God  shall  vouchsafe  to  continue  him,  in  succeeding  time. 

From  him,  I  had  little  expectation  of  finding  his  .sick 
brother  in  a  conversable  condition,  the  malignity  of  his 
fever  having  before  seized  his  head,  and  very  much  disor- 
dered his  intellectuals;  but  going  in,  I  was  much  sur- 
prised to  find  it  so  far  otherwise.  He  presently  knew  me, 
and  his  understanding,  that  served  him  for  little  else, 
failed  him  not  in  the  concernments  of  religion  and  of  his 
soul.  There  was  not  an  improper  or  misplaced  word, 
though  the  case  could  not  admit  of  interchanging  many, 
that  came  from  him.  Concerning  the  substance  of  the 
Gospel  of  Christ,  as  it  could  be  shortly  summed  up  to  him, 
he  said  he  had  no  doubt.  And  his  transactions  with  Christ 
him.self,  accepting  him,  resigning  and  intrusting  himself 
absolutely  and  entirely  to  him,  and  God  in  him,  were  so 
explicit,  distinct,  and  clear,  as  could  leave  no  place  of 
doubt  concerning  him.  He  professed  his  concurrence  to 
such  requests  as  were  put  up  to  God  concerning  him,  and 
the  next  morning  slept  quietly  in  the  Lord. 

Nor  now  will  it  be  unfit  to  shut  up  the  discourse  with 
some  few  suitable  reflections  upon  this  double  subject :  the 
text,  and  this  jirovidencc,  taken  together. 

1.  How  happy  is  it,  when  this  power  of  our  great  Re- 
deemer and  Lord,  mentioned  in  the  text,  and  a  prepara- 
tion, with  cheerful  willingness,  dutifully  to  comport  with  it, 
concur  and  meet  together,  as  they  have  done  in  this  in- 
stance !  Our  Lord  hath  shown  his  power :  he  asserted  it 
in  the  text ;  in  this  instance  he  used  it ;  giving  an  open 
testimony  that  he  takes  it  to  belong  to  him,  to  make  such 
translations  from  one  world  to  another,  whensoever  he 
judges  it  a  fit  season  ;  nor  is  solicitous  whether  men 
acknowledge  his  right  so  to  do,  or  no;  or  what  censures 
they  will  pass  upon  what  he  hath  done.  He  doth  his  own 
work,  and  leaves  men  to  their  own  talk,  or  mutterings,  or 
wonder,  or  amusement  at  it,  as  they  will.  So  it  becomes 
sovereign  power  to  do,  established  upon  the  most  unques- 
tionable foundations,  exercised  according  to  the  wisest  and 
most  righteous  measures.  He  hath  used  his  owm  right, 
and  satisfied  himself  in  the  use  of  it.  He  thought  not  him- 
self concerned  to  advise  with  any  of  us  about  it,  who,  a^ 
his  counsellor,  should  instruct  him,  Isa.  xl.  13.  Rom.  xi. 
34.  He  owes  so  much  to  himself,  to  act  as  accountable  to 
no  one,  nor  liable  to  any  one's  control. 

Here  is  most  rightful,  resistless  power,  justly  and  kindly 
used  on  the  one  hand;  and  on  the  other,  how  placid,  how 
calm  a  resignation !  Here  was  no  striving,  no  crying,  no 
reluctant  motion,  no  querulous,  repining  voice ;  nothing; 


OVER  THE  INVISIBLE  WORLD. 


325 


bat  peaceful,  filial  submission ;  a  willingness  to  obey  the 
summons  given. 

This  was  a  happy  accord,  the  willingness  of  this  depart- 
ing soul  proceeding  not  from  stupidity,  but  trust  in  him 
who  kept  these  keys  ;  and  sucJi  preparedness  for  removal, 
as  the  Gospel  required.  O  happy  souls!  that  finduig  the 
key  is  turning,  and  opening  the  door  for  them,  are  willing 
to  go  forth  upon  such  terms,  as  "  knowing  whom  they 
have  believed,"  &c.  And  that  neither  "  prmcipalilies  or 
powers,  life  or  death,  &c.  can  ever  separate  them  from  the 
love  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus  their  Lord."  Life,  they  fuid, 
hath  noi  separated — whereof  was  the  greater  danger ;  and 
death  is  so  far  from  making  this  separation,  that  it  shall 
complete  their  union  with  the  blessed  God  in  Christ,  and 
lay  them  infolded  in  the  everlasting  embraces  of  Divine 
love !  Happy  they,  that  can  hereupon  welcome  death,  and 
say,  "  Now,  Lord,  lettest  thou  thy  servant  depart  in  peace  !" 
that  before  only  desired  leave  to  die,  and  have  now  obtain- 
ed it ;  that  are,  with  certainty  of  the  issue,  at  the  point  of 
becoming  complete  victors  over  the  last  enemy,  and  are 
ready  to  enter  upon  their  triumph,  and  take  up  their 
tmvtKtot',  "  Death  is  swallowed  up  in  victory.  O  death, 
where  is  thy  sting"?  O  grave,  where  is  thy  victory  "?  Thanks 
be  to  God,  who  giveth  us  the  victory  through  Jesus  Christ 
our  Lord."  Happy  soul !  here  will  be  a  speedy  end  of  all 
thy  griefs  and  sorrows;  they  will  be  presently  swallowed 
up  in  an  absolute  plentitude  and  fulness  of  joy.  There  is 
already  an  end  put  to  thy  tormenting  cares  and  fears ;  for 
what  object  can  remain  to  thee  of  a  rational  fear,  when 
once,  upon  grounds  such  as  shake  not  under  thee,  thou  art 
reconciled  to  death  !  This  is  the  most  glorious  sort  of  vic- 
tory, viz.  by  reconciliation.  For  so  thou  hast  conquered, 
not  the  enemy  only,  but  the  enmity^  itself,  by  which  h«  was 
30.  Death  is  become  thy  friend,  and  so  no  longer  to  be 
feared;  nor  is  there  any  thing  else,  from  whence  thou  art 
to  fear  hurt ;  for  death  was  thy  last  enemy,  even  this  bodi- 
ly death.  The  whole  region  beyond  it  is,  to  one  in  thy 
case,  clear  and  serene,  when  to  others  is  reserved  the 
blackness  of  darkness  for  ever.  There  are  no  terrible 
vrepn/'ara,  no  formidable  consequences,  no  reserves  of  mi- 
sery, no  treasures  of  wrath,  to  be  feared  by  thee.  To  one 
in  thy  condition,  may  that,  without  hesitation,  be  applied, h 
Nihil  nietuit,  qui  opt  at  viori — He  fears  nothing  n-ho  desires 
to  die.  What  is  the  product  of  some  men's  infidelity,  is 
the  genuine  product  of  their  faith.  From  so  contrary 
causes  may  proceed  the  same  effect.  The  effect,  a  Avill- 
ingness  to  die,  or  a  bold  adventure  upon  death,  is  the  same, 
but  only  in  respect  of  the  general  kind;  with  great  differ- 
ences in  the  special  kind,  according  to  the  difference  and 
contrariety  of  the  causes,  whereof  they  discernibly  taste 
and  savour.  With  infidels,  it  is  a  negative,  dead,  stupid, 
partial  willingness,  or  but  a  non-aversion ;  and  in  a  lower 
and  much  diminished  degree  :  or  if  some  present  intoler- 
able, disgraceful  calamity  urge  them,  a  rash,  obstinate,  pre- 
sumptuous rushing  upon  death  ;  because  they  do  not  con- 
sider consequences.  With  believers,  such  as  in  reference  to 
the  concernments  of  the  other  world  do  walk  by  faith,  while 
as  yet  they  cannot  walk  by  sight,  in  reference  to  those 
things,  (2  Cor.  v.  7.)  'tis  a  positive,  vital  courage, i  {v.  8.) 
We  arc  confident;  and  a  preponderating  inclination  of 
will,  "We  are  willing  rather  to  be  absent  from  the  body 
and  to  be  present  with  the  Lord  ;  because,  as  is  manifest, 
they  do  consider  consequences,  and  how  blessed  a  state  will 
certainly  ensue  !  How  vast  are  these  special  differences, 
of  the  same  thing  in  the  general,  willingness  to  die  ! 

O  the  transports  of  joy  that  do  now  most  rationally  re- 
sult from  this  state  of  the  case,  when  there  is  m)thing  left 
lying  between  the  dislodging  soul,  and  the  glorious  un- 
seen world,  but  only  the  dark  passage  of  death,  and  that 
so  little  formidable,  considering  who  hath  the  keys  of  the 
one,  and  the  other  !  How  reasonable  is  it  upon  the  ac- 
count of  somewhat  common  herein  to  the  Redeemer  and 
the  redeemed,  although  every  thing  be  not,  to  take  up  the 
following  words,  that  so  plainly  belong  to  this  very  case  : 
"  Therefore  my  heart  is  glad,  and  my  glory  rejoiceth;  my^ 
flesh  also  shall  rest  in  hope.  For  thou  wilt  not  leave  my 
soul  in  sheol,  or  hades ;  thou  wilt  not  forsake  or  abandon 
it  in  that  wide  world,  neither  wilt  thou  suffer  thine  Holy 
One  to  see  corruption  Thou  wilt  siiow  me  the  path  of 
h  Sen.  Tr.  i  Qappooucv. 

25  '^ 


life  ;  the  path  that  leads  unto  that  presence  of  thine,  where 
is  fulness  of  joy,  and  to  those  pleasures  which  are  at  thy 
right  hand,  or  in  thy  power,  and  which  are  lor  evermore : 
and  shall  never  admit  either  of  end  or  diminution,"  Psalm 
XVI.  9.— 11. 

Now  what  do  we  mean  to  let  our  souls  hang  in  doubt  1 
Why  do  we  not  drive  things  for  them  to  an  i.s.>uel  Put 
them  into  those  same  safe  hands  that  hold  these  keys  ;  ab- 
?olutely  resign,  devote,  intrust,  and  subject  them  to  him; 
get  them  bound  up  in  ihu  bundle  of  life;  so  adjoin  and 
unite  them  to  him,  (not  doubling  but  as  we  give  them  up, 
he  will  and  doth,  in  that  instant,  take  hold  of  them,  and 
receive  them  into  union  with  himself,)  as  that  we  may  as- 
sure our  hearts,  that  because  k  he  lives  we  shall  live'ahio. 
Thus  the  ground  of  our  hope  becomes  sure,  and  of  that  i 
joy  which  springs  from  such  a  hope.  Our  lile,  we  may 
now  say,  is  hid  with  Christ  in  God  ;  even  though  we  are, 
in  ourselves,  dead,  or  dying  creatures.  Col.  iii.  3.  Yea, 
Christ  is  our  Life ;  and  when  he  "  who  is  our  Life  shall 
appear,  we  shall  appear  with  him  in  glory,"  r.  4.  He  hath 
assured  us,  that  because  "  he  is  the  Resurrection  and  the 
Life,  he  that  believeih  in  him,  though  he  were  dead,  shall 
yet  live;"  and  that  "whosoever  lives,  and  believes  in 
him,"  hath  thereby  a  life  already  begun  in  him,  in  respect 
whereof  "  he  shall  never  die,"  John  xi.  25,  26.  What 
now  can  be  surer  than  this  1  So  far  we  are  at  a  certain- 
ty, upon  the  included  supposition,  i.  e.  that  we  believe  in 
him. 

And  what  now  remains  to  be  ascertained!  What  1 
Only  our  own  intervening  death.  We  must,  'tis  true,  be 
absent  from  these  bodies,  or  we  cannot,  as  we  would,  be 
present  with  the  Lord.  And  is  that  all"?  Can  any  thing 
now  be  more  certain  than  that  1  O  happy  stale  of  our 
case!  How  should  our  hearts  spring  and  leap  for  joy, 
that  our  affairs  are  brought  into  this  posture  ;  that  in  or- 
der to  our  perfect  blessedness,  nothing  is  further  wanting 
but  to  die  ;  and  that  the  certainty  of  death  completes  our 
assurance  of  it !  What  should  now  hinder  our  brea'king 
forth  into  the  most  joyful  thanksgivings,  that  it  is  so  little 
doubtful  we  shall  die  ;  that  we  are  in  no  danger  of  a  ter- 
restrial immortality  ;  and  that  the  only  thing  that  it  re- 
mained we  should  be  assured  of,  is  so  very  sure,  that  we 
are  sure  it  is  not  in  the  power  of  all  this  world  to  keep  us 
always  in  it ;  that  the  most  spiteful  enemy  we  have  in  all 
the  world,  cannot  do  us  that  .spite  to  keep  us  from  dying  1 
How  gloriously  may  good  men  triumph  over  the  impotent 
malice  of  their  most  mischievous  enemies !  viz.  that  the 
greatest  mischief,  even  in  their  own  account,  that  it  can 
ever  he  in  their  power  to  do  them,  is  ..)  put  it  out  of  their 
power  ever  to  hurt  them  more  ;  for  they  now  go  quite  out 
of  their  reach.  They  can  (beingpermitted)  kill  the  body, 
and  after  that  (Luke  xii.  4.)  have  no  more  that  they  can  do. 
What  a  remarkable,  significant  after  that  is  this  !  what  a 
defiance  doth  it  import  of  the  utmost  effort  of  human 
power  and  spite,  that  here  it  terminates!  'Tis  now  come 
to  its  ne  plus  ultra  '. 

And  so  we  are  to  look  upon  all  the  other  trials  and  af- 
flictions, that  in  any  providential  way  may  befall  us  ;  we 
may  be  sick,  in  pain,  in  poverty,  in  disgrace,  but  we  shall 
not  be  always  in  mortal  flesh,  which  is  the  sulstralum  and 
the  root  of  all  the  rest.  Can  we  be  upon  better  terms, 
having  but  two  things  to  be  concerned  about,  as  necessary 
to  our  complete  felicity,  union  with  Christ,  and  disunion 
from  these  bodies  ?  God  is  graciously  ready  to  assist  us 
in  reference  to  the  former,  though  therein  he  requires  our 
care,  subserviently  hereto :  in  reference  to  the  latter,  he 
will  take  care  himself,  in  his  own  fit  season,  without  any 
care  or  concern  of  ours  in  the  matter;  and  only  expects 
us  to  wait  with  patience,  till  that  fit  season  ccme.  And 
come  it  will,  perhaps  sooner  than  we  may  think.  He  doth 
not  always  go  h\  our  measures  in  judging  of  the  fit  sea- 
son, as  this  present  instance  shows. 

2.  From  the  text,  taken  in  conjunction  with  this  act  of 
Providence,  we  may  observe  the  great  advantage  of  apious 
education.  Though  the  best  means  of  such  education  do 
not  alwavs  prove  efloctual ;  vet  this  heinsr  much  the  more 
probable  course  upon  which  to  expect  God's  blessin?,  than 
the  parents'  profane  negligence  of  the  souls  of  their  ci;il- 
dren,  such  an  example,  wherein  God  by  his  blessing  testi- 
k  John  siv.  19.  1  Rom.  t.  % 


326 


THE  REDEEMER'S  DOMINION 


fied  his  approbation  of  parental  care  and  diligence,  should 
greatly  quicken  the  endeavours  of  parents  herein;  as  hoping 
hereby  to  serve  his  great  and  merciful  and  most  principal 
design,  who  hath  these  keys,  and  whose  office  it  is  to  trans- 
mit souls,  when  they  are  T3repared  and  ready,  out  of  this 
world  of  ours  into  that  blessed,  glorious  world  above. 
And  though  they  may  think  themselves  disappointed  when, 
through  God's  blessing  upon  their  endeavours,  they  have 
educated  one  to  such  a  pitch  as  this  young  gentleman  was 
raised  and  brought  up  unto,  with  a  prospect  and  hope  of 
his  having  a  long  course  of  service  to  run  through  here 
on  the  earth,  yet  let  parents  hence  learn  to  correct  what 
was  amiss  or  what  was  wrong,  not  what  was  right  and 
well.  Their  action  and  endeavour  were  what  ought  to  be ; 
their  error  or  mistake,  if  there  were  any,  was  more  prin- 
cipally, as  the  case  is  here  stated,  about  their  design  and 
end.  Not  that  they  designed  such  an  end,  for  that  also 
was  very  justifiable  and  laudable  ;  but  if  they  designed  it 
as  their  more  principal  end,  which  the  case,  as  it  is  now 
put,  supposes  ;  that  is,  that  they  take  themselves  to  be  dis- 
appointed; for  no  man  complains  of  it  as  a  disappoint- 
ment, if  he  miss  of  an  inferior  end,  and  attain  that  which 
is  far  nobler  and  more  excellent.  Our  great  aim  should 
be  the  subserving  the  design  of  the  great  Lord  of  heaven 
and  earth,  which  ultimately  and  supremely  refers  to  the 
heavenly,  eternal  state  of  things;  and  that  souls  maybe 
ripened  and  titted  for  that,  and  to  do  service  here  on  earth, 
subordinately  to  the  other,  and  while  they  are  in  prepara- 
tion for  the  heavenly  state.  His  principal  design  must  be 
for  that  which  is  principal:  and  concerning  that,  as  was 
formerly  argued,  there  can  be  no  more  doubt,  than  whether 
heaven  or  earth,  eternity  or  time,  a  fixed,  permanent, 
everlasting,  or  a  temporary,  transitory,  vanishing  state  of 
things,  be  more  valuable,  and  to  be  preferred. 

Our  Redeemer  hath  acquired  and  doth  use  these  keys, 
for  the  translating  of  souls,  as  soon  as  he  shall  judge  them 
"meet  to  be  partakers  of  the  inheritance  of  saints  in 
light,"  Col.  i.  12.  Some  he  makes  meet  much  earlier  than 
others.  His  design,  so  far  as  it  is  known,  or  may  be  sup- 
posed, should  give  measure  to  ours  ;  therefore  ours  must 
be  to  make  them  meet,  as  early  for  his  purposes  as  possi- 
ble, as  knowing  it  cannot  be  too  early:  they  were  devoted 
to  him  early,  and  pursuantly  hereto,  no  time  should  be  lost 
from  the  great  business  of  fitting  and  forming  them  for 
him;  inasmuch  also,  as  the  same  qualifications,  viz.  that 
are  of  highest  excellency  and  value,  do  equally  prepare 
them  to  serve  and  glorify  him,  in  either  world,  as  he  shall 
choose  to  di.spose  of  them.  And  it  unquestionably  belongs 
to  him  to  make  his  choice,  as  it  does  to  us  to  endeavour  to 
make  them  ready.  If  any  of  us,  having  purposely  edu- 
cated a  .son  for  the  service  of  his  prince,  and  present  him 
accordingly,  we  would  submit  it  to  his  pleasure,  to  choose 
the  station  wherein  he  shall  serve  him  ;  especially  if  he 
be  a  prince  of  celebrated  wisdom  and  goodness.  And 
should  we  complain,  that  he  is  put  early  into  a  station  of 
much  higher  dignity  than  we  thought  of? 

How  little  is  this  matter  considered  by  most  that  go  un- 
der the  name  of  Christian  parents,  that  are,  more  general- 
ly, very  solicitous  to  have,  as  they  call  it,  their  children 
christened,  but  never  have  it  in  their  thoughts  lo  have  them 
educated  in  the  knowledge  of  Christ,  or  trained  up  for 
Christ.  As  if  their  baptism  were  intended  for  a  mock- 
ery, their  education,  in  the  whole  course  of  it,  hath  no 
such  reference.  'Tis  how  they  may  with  better  reputa- 
tion bear  up  not  the  name  of  Christbut  their  own.  Their 
aim  looks  no  higher  than  that  they  may  inherit  their  lands, 
maintain  the  honour  of  their  families^  appear,  if  such  be 
their  own  rank,  well-accompli.shed  gentlemen :  and  of 
some  of  those  little  things  that  are  thought  requisite  here- 
to, we  may  say,  as  our  Saviour  did  in  another  case.  These 
things  ought  ye  to  have  done,  and  not  to  have  left  the 
other,  the  much  greater  things,  undone. 

What  should  hinder,  but  that  learning  to  sing,  or  dance, 
or  fence,  or  make  a  modish  leg,  might  consist  with  learn- 
ing to  know  God  in  Christ,  in  which  knowledge  stands 
eternal  life!  Whatsoever  hath  real  excellency,  or  hath 
any  thing  in  it  of  true  ornament,  will  no  way  disagree  with 
the  most  serious  Christianity.  And  how  lovely  is  the  con- 
junction of  the  %vell-accomplished  gentleman  "and  the  seri- 
ous Christian!  Only  sever  inconsistencies,  as  how  fashion- 


ably to  curse,  and  swear,  and  damn,  and  debauch,  whicil 
are  thought  to  belong  to  good  breeding  in  our  age. 

Let  not  religion,  rea.son,  shame,  and  common  sense,  be 
so  totally  abandoned  all  at  once,  as  that  the  same  persons 
shall  take  care  to  have  their  children  baptized  into  Christ's 
name,  and  be  taught  to  renounce,  by  their  deeds,  that  great 
name,  almost  as  soon  as  they  can  pronounce  the  woid. 

Where  so  direct  a  course  is  not  taken  to  make  those  of 
the  succeeding  age  ignominiously  bad,  yet  Tiow  little  is 
done  towards  the  making  of  them  truly  and  usefully  good ! 
Much  care  is  taken  to  shape  and  adorn  the  outside  of  the 
man  ;  how  little  to  form  and  furnish  their  minds  !  Here, 
if  they  can  be  brought  to  make  or  judge  of  a  verse,  or  a 
jest,  or  a  piece  of  wit,  'tis  a  great  attainment.  Or  if,  at 
home,  they  can  have  them  taught  so  much  law  as  shall 
hereafter  enable  them  to  squeeze  their  tenants,  and  quar- 
rel with  their  neighbours,  or  so  much  of  behaviour  as 
shall  qualify  them  to  keep  gentlemen  company;  or  if,  as 
our  pious  poet  phrased  it,  they  ship  them  over,  the  thing 
is  done  :  then  they  shall  be  able  to  talk  a  little  of  the  fa- 
shions of  this  or  that  foreign  country,  and  make  much  the 
better  figure  in  their  own. 

But  if,  with  all  otherparts  of  useful  knowledge  and  good 
breeding  that  are  thought  requisite  for  this  world,  they  be 
also  well  instructed  touching  their  Redeemer's  dominion 
over  it,  and  the  other  world  also  ;  and  concerning  the  na- 
ture, con,stitution,  design,  laM's,  and  privileges  of  his  king- 
dom ;  if  it  be  seriously  endeavoured  to  make  them  apt 
and  prepared  instruments  of  serving  his  interest  here,  as 
long  as  he  shall  please  to  continue  them  in  any  station  on 
earth  ;  and  that  they  may  also  be  made  meet  to  be  parta- 
kers, at  length,  of  a  far  more  excellent  inheritance  than 
an  earthly  parent  could  entitle  them  to,  that  of  the  saints 
in  light;  (Col.  i.  12.)  if  they  can  be  fitted  to  stand  in  the 
presence  of  the  Eternal  King,  and  to  keep  company  with 
angels  and  blessed  spirits  above — how  worthy  and  noble  a 
design  is  this !  And  with  what  satisfaction  is  it  to  be  re- 
flected on,  if  the  parents  have  ground  to  apprehend  they 
are  herein  neither  unaccepted  nor  disappointed ! 

3.  It  is  of  ill  presage  to  our  land,  that  when  he  that 
hath  these  keys,  uses  them  in  the  so  early  translation  of  so 
hopeful  a  person  as  this  young  gentleman  was,  so  few 
such  are  observed  to  spring  up  for  the  support  of  the  truly 
Christian  interest  in  the  succeeding  generation.  That  the 
act  of  our  great  Redeemer  and  Lord  herein  was  an  act  of 
wisdom  and  counsel,  we  cannot  doubt.  Against  the  right- 
eousness of  it,  we  can  have  no  exception.  The  kind  de- 
sign of  it  towards  them  whom  he  so  translates,  is  so  evi- 
dent in  the  visible  agreement  of  their  .spirit  and  way  with 
the  heavenly  state  as  their  end,  as  puts  that  matter  out  of 
question.  But  we  are  so  much  the  more  to  dread  the  con- 
sequences, and  to  apprehend  what  may  make  our  hearts 
meditate  terror. 

By  the  Christian  interest,  I  am  far  from  meaning  that 
of  a  party :  but  what  every  one  must  take  for  Christiani- 
ty, that  will  acknowledge  there  is  any  .such  thing.  And 
for  the  support  of  that,  in  the  most  principal  doctrines  and 
laws  of  it,  what  is  our  prospect  1 

To  go  down  here  somewhat  lower. 

Let  us  suppose  a  rational  susceptibleness,  or  capacity  of 
religion,  to  be  the  difl^erence  of  man,  wherein  the  contro- 
versy may  seem  to  admit  of  being  compromised ;  whether 
it  be  religion  alone,  or  reason  alone,  of  which  this  must  be 
said,  that  it  distinguishes  man  from  the  inferior  creatures. 
And  let  it  be  reason,  with  this  addition,  an  aptness,  sus- 
picere  nnmen,  to  be  impressed  with  some  religious  senti- 
ment, or  to  conceive  of,  and  adore,  an  original  Being;  the 
wise  and  mighty  Author  and  Cause  of  all  things.  And 
now,  how  near  akin  are  religion  and  humanity  1 

Let  us  next  understand  Christianity  to  be  the  religion  of 
fallen  man,  designing  his  recovery  out  of  a  lapsed  and  lost 
state;  i.  e.  man  having  violated  the  law  of  his  creation, 
and  ofl^ended  against  the  throne  and  government  of  his 
Creator,  the  supreme  and  universal  Lord  of  all,  it  was 
reckoned  not  becoming  so  great  a  Majesty  (though  it  was 
not  intended  to  abandon  the  ofl^enders  to  a  universal  ruin, 
without  remedy)  to  be  reconciled,  otherwise  than  by  a 
mediator  and  a  reconciling  sacrifice.  For  which,  none 
being  found  competent  but  the  Eternal  Son  of  God,  the 
Brightness  of  his  giory,  and  the  express  Image  of  his  own 


OVER  THE  INVISIBLE  WORLD. 


327 


person,  who  was  also  the  first  and  the  last,  the  Lord 
God  Almighty  ;  and  partaking  witn  us  of  flesh  and  blood, 
was  capable,  and  undertook  to  be  both  Mediator  and 
Sacrifice.  It  seemed  meet  to  the  offended  Majesty,  to 
vouchsafe  pardon  and  eternal  life,  and  renewing  grace 
requisite  thereto,  to  none  of  the  offenders,  but  through 
him ;  and  accept  from  them  no  homage,  but  on  his  ac- 
count. Requiring,  wheresoever  the  go.spel  comes,  not 
only  repentance  towards  God,  but  faith  in  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  as  the  summary  of  the  counsel  of  God  contained 
therein ;  (Acts  xx.  21 — 27.)  and  that  all  should  honour 
the  Son,  as  he  the  Father  requires  to  be  honoured,  John 
V.  23. 

Whereas  now  so  apt  a  course  as  this  was  established  for 
restoring  man  to  himself  and  to  God,  through  the  influ- 
ence of  the  blessed  Spirit,  flowing  in  the  gospel  dispensa- 
tion from  Christ  as  the  Fountain ;  what  doth  it  portend 
when,  amidst  the  clear  light  of  the  Gospel,  that  aflijrds  so 
bright  a  discovery  of  the  glorious  Redeemer,  and  of  all 
his  apt  methods  for  bringing  to  full  effect  his  mighty  work 
of  redemption,  an  open  war  is  commenced  against  him 
and  his  whole  design,  by  persons,  under  seal,  devoted  to 
him  !  If  there  were  but  one  single  mstance  hereof  in  an 
age,  who  would  not  with  trembling  expect  the  issue  1 

But  when  the  genius  of  a  Christian  nation  seems,  in  the 
rising  generation,  to  be  leading  to  a  general  apostacy  from 
Christianity,  in  its  principal  and  most  substantial  parts ; 
and  they  are  only  patient  of  some  external  rituals,  that 
belong,  or  are  made  appendant,  to  it,  so  as  but  to  endure 
them,  either  with  reluctancy,  or  contempt :  when  the  juve- 
nile wit  and  courage  which  are  thought  to  belong  to  a 
gentleman  entering  upon  the  stage  of  the  world,  are  em- 
ployed in  satirizing  upon  the  religion  into  which  they  have 
been  baptized,  in  bold  efforts  against  the  Lord  that  bought 
them  !  whither  doth  this  tend  1 

Some  would  seem  so  modest,  as  in  the  midst  of  their 
profane  oaths,  and  violations  of  the  sacred  name  of  God, 
to  beg  his  pardon,  and  say,  God  forgive  them.  But  so  lu- 
dicrously, as  he  whom  Cato  animadverts  upon,  for  begging 
pardon,  that  he  wrote  in  Greek,  which  he  was  unacquaint- 
ed with,  saying,m  he  had  rather  ask  pardon,  than  be  inno- 
cent ;  for  what  should  induce  him  to  do  so  unnecessary  a 
thing,  for  which  pardon  should  be  necessary  1  These  men 
think  pardons  very  cheap  things.  B  ut  will  God  be  mocked "? 
or  doth  he  not  observe  1  'Tis  the  prevailing  atheistical 
spirit  we  are  to  dread,  as  that  which  may  provoke  jealousy, 
and  to  make  himself  known  by  the  judgments  he  shall 
execute. 

There  is  great  reason  to  hope  God  wil  1  not  finally  abandon 
England.  But  is  there  not  equal  reason  to  fear,  that  be- 
fore the  day  of  mercy  come,  there  may  be  a  nearer  day  of 
wrath  coming  1  A  day  that  shall  burn  as  an  oven,  and 
make  the  hemisphere  about  us  a  fiery  vault !  In  our  re- 
covery from  a  lapsed  state,  which  the  religion  professed 
among  us  aims  at,  there  are  two  things  to  be  effected ;  the 
restoring  reason  to  its  empire  over  the  sensiti .  e  nature, 
that  it  may  govern  that,  and  the  restoring  religion  and  love 
to  God  to  their  place  and  power,  that  he  may  govern  us. 
While  the  former  is  not  done,  we  remain  sunk  into  the  low 
level  with  the  inferior  creatures ;  and  till  the  latter  be 
effected,  we  are  ranked  with  the  apostate  creatures  that 
first  fell  from  God.  The  sensuality  of  brutes,  and  the  en- 
^  mity  of  devils,  rising  and  springing  up  observably  among 
us,  import  the  directest  hostility  against  the  Redeemer's 
design.  And  them  that  bid  this  open  defiance  to  him,  he 
hath  every  moment  at  his  mercy ! 

In  the  meantime,  is  this  Emmanuel's  landl  His  right 
in  us  he  will  not  disclaim.  And  because  he  claims  it,  we 
may  expect  him  to  vindicate  himself.  His  present  patience 
we  are  to  ascribe  to  the  wisdom  and  greatness  of  an  all- 
comprehending  mind.  He  counts  net  a  heap  of  impotent 
m  Com.  Nep.  Frag. 


worms  his  match  !  But  when  the  besom  of  destruction 
comes,  one  stroke  of  it  will  sweep  away  multitudes:  then 
contempt  will  be  answered  with  contempt.  They  cannot 
express  higher,  than  to  oppose  and  militate  against  a  re- 
ligion, introduced  and  brought  into  the  world  by  so  clear, 
divine  light,  lustre,  and  glory,  not  by  arguments,  but  by 
jests  !  O  that  we  could  but  see  their  arguments,  to  dispute 
those  keys  out  of  his  hands  that  holds  them  !  But  do  they 
think  to  laugh  away  the  power  of  the  Son  of  God  ]  "  He 
also  will  laugh  at  their  calamity,"  &c.  (Prov.  i.)ur  expose 
them  to  the  laughter  of  men  wiser  than  they,  Psal.  lii.  5, 6. 
'Tis  little  wit  to  despise  what  they  cannot  disprove.  When 
we  find  a  connexion  between  death  and  judgment,  how 
will  they  contrive  to  disjoin  them  1  They  will  be  as  little 
able  to  disprove  the  one,  as  withstand  the  other. 

But  a  great  residue,  'tis  to  be  hoped,  our  blessed  Re- 
deemer will,  in  due  time,  conquer  in  the  most  merciful 
way,  inspiring  them  with  divine  wisdom  and  love,  detecting 
their  errors,  mollifying  their  hardness,  subduing  their  en- 
mity, making  them  gladly  submit  to  his  easy  yoke  and 
light  burthen.  He  is,  before  the  world  end,  to  have  a  nu- 
merous seed,  and  we  are  not  to  despair  of  their  rising  up 
more  abundantly  than  hitherto  among  ourselves,  so  as  no 
man  shall  be  therefore  ashamed  to  be  thought  a  serious 
Christian,  because  'lis  an  unfashionable  or  an  ungenteel 
thing. 

Then  will  honour  be  acquired,  by  living  as  one  that 
believes  a  life  to  come,  and  expects  to  live  for  ever,  as  de- 
voted ones,  to  the  Ruler  of  both  worlds,  and  candidates 
for  a  blessed  immortality,  under  his  dominion.  Nor  will 
any  man  covet  to  leave  a  better  name  behind  him  here,  or 
a  more  honourable  memorial  of  himself,  than  by  having 
lived  a  holy,  virtuous  life.  It  signifies  nothing,  with  the 
many,  to  be  remembered  when  they  are  gone :  therefore 
is  this  trust  wont  to  be  committed  to  marbles  and  monu- 
mental stones.  Some  have  been  so  wise,  to  prefer  a  re- 
membrance, among  them  that  are  so,  from  their  having 
lived  to  some  valuable  purpose.  When  Rome  abounded 
with  statues  and  memoralive  obelisks,  Cato  forbade  any  to 
be  set  up  for  him,  because  (he  said)  he  had  rather  it  should 
be  asked,"  wh}'  he  had  not  one,  than  why  he  had. 

What  a  balmy  memory  will  one  generation  leave  to 
another,  when  "  the  savour  of  the  knowledge  of  Christ 
shall  be  diffused  in  everyplace,"  (2  Cor.  ii.  14.)  and  every 
thing  be  counted  as  dross  and  dung,  that  is  in  any  compe- 
tition with  the  excellency  of  that  knowledge ;  when  that 
shall  overflow  the  world,  and  one  age  praise  his  mighty 
works,  and  proclaim  his  power  and  greatness,  to  the  next : 
and  the  branches  of  religious  families,  whether  sooner  or 
later  transplanted,  shall  leave  an  odour,  when  they  are 
cut  off,  that  shall  demonstrate  their  nearer  union  with  the 
true  Vine,  or  speak  their  relation  to  the  "  Tree  of  life, 
whose  leaves  are  for  the  healing  of  the  nations ;"  even 
those  that  were  deciduous,  and  have  dropped  off,  may 
(without  straining  a  borrowed  expression)  signify  some- 
what towards  this  purpose. 

4.  From  both  the  mentioned  subjects,  good  parents  may 
learn  to  do  God  and  their  Redeemer  all  the  service  they 
can,  and  have  opportunity  for,  in  their  own  time  ;  without 
reckoning  loo  much  upon  what  shall  be  done,  by  a  well- 
educated,  hopeful  .son,  after  the}'  are  gone,  unless  the  like, 
dispensation  could  be  pleaded  unto  that  which  God  gave 
to  bavid,  to  reserve  the  building  of  the  temple  to  his  son 
Solomon,  which,  without  as  express  a  revelation,  no  man 
can  pretend.  The  great  keeper  of  these  keys  may  cross' 
such  purposes,  and  without  excusing  the  father,  dismiss 
the  son  first.  But  his  judgments  are  a  great  deep,  too 
deep  for  our  line:  and  his  mercy  is  in  the  heavens,  (Psal 
xxxvi.)  extending  from  everlasting  to  everlasting,  upon 
them  that  fear  him  ;  and  his  righteousness  unto  children's 
children,  Psal.  ciii. 

n  Plutarch  de  geraud.  Repub. 


OF 


THOUGHTFULNESS  FOR  THE  MORROW; 

WITH  AN  APPENDIX, 

CONCERNING  THE  IMMODERATE  DESIRE  OF  FOREKNOWING  THINGS  TO  COME. 


TO  THE  RIGHT  HONOURABLE 

ANNE,    LADY  WHARTON. 

It  was,  Madam,  the  character  an  ancient  worthy  in  the  Christian  church  gave  of  a  noble  person  of  your  sex,  that,  in 
reference  to  the  matters  of  religion,  she  was  not  only  a  learner,  but  a  judge.  And  accordingly,  he  inscribes  to  her 
divers  of  his  writings,  (even  such  as  did  require  a  very  accurate  judgment  in  the  reading  of  them,)  which  remain,  unto 
this  day,  dispersedly,  in  several  parts  of  his  works,  dignified  with  her  (often  prefixed")  name.  A  greater,  indeed,  than 
he,  mentions  it  as  an  ill  character,  to  be  not  a  doer  of  the  law,  but  a  judge.  It  makes  a  great  difference  in  the  exercise 
of  the  same  faculty,  and  in  doing  the  same  thing,  with  what  mind  and  design  it  is  done.  There  is  a  judging  that  we 
may  learn,  and  a  judging  that  we  may  not ;  a  judgment  subservient  to  our  duty,  and  a  judgment  opposite  to  it. 
Without  a  degree  of  the  former  no  one  can  ever  be  a  serious  Christian ;  by  means  of  the  latter,  many  never  are.  The 
world  through  wisdom  knew  not  God.  A  cavilling  litigious  wit,  in  the  confidence  whereof  any  set  themselves  above 
the  rule,  and  make  it  their  business  only  to  censxire  it,  as  if  they  would  rather  find  faults  in  it  than  themselves,  is  as 
inconsistent  with  sincere  piety,  as  an  humbly  judicious  discerning  mind  is  necessary  to  it.  This  proceeds  from  a  due 
savour  and  relish  of  divine  things,  peculiar  to  them  in  whom  a  heavenly  spirit  and  principle  have  the  possession,  and 
a  governing  power.  They  that  are  after  the  Spirit,  do  savour  the  things  of  the  Spirit.  The  other  from  the  preposses- 
sion and  prejudice  of  a  disaffected  carnal  mind.     They  that  are  after  the  flesh,  do  only  savour  the  things  of  the  flesh. 

The  ability  God  hath  endowed  your  Ladyship  with  to  judge  of  the  truth  that  is  after  godliness,  is,  that  you  are  better 
pleased  to  use,  than  hear  of.  I  shall,  therefore,  be  silent  herein,  and  rather  displease  many  of  them  that  know  you, 
who  will  be  apt  to  think  a  copious  subject  is  neglected,  than  say  any  thing  that  may  o/Tend  either  against  your  Lady- 
ship's inclination  or  my  own.  Here  is  nothing  abstruse  and  difficult  for  you  to  exercise  a  profound  judgment  upon  ; 
nor  any  thing  curious  to  gratify  a  pleasant  wit.  But  plain  things,  suitable  to  you,  upon  accounts  common  to  the 
generality  of  Christians,  not  that  are  peculiar  to  yourself.  'Tiseasy  to  a  well  tempered  mind  (of  how  high  intellectual 
excellencies  soever)  to  descend  to  the  same  level  with  the  rest ;  when  for  them  to  reach  up  to  the  others'  pitch,  is  not 
so  much  as  possible.  Our  heavenly  Father  keeps  not  (as  to  the  substantials  of  our  nutriment)  distinct  tables  for  his 
children,  but  all  must  eat  the  same  spiritual  meat,  and  drink  the  same  spiritual  drink.  He  hath  not  one  Gospel  for 
great  wits,  and  another  for  plainer  people ;  but  as  all  that  are  bom  of  him  must  meet  at  length  in  one  end,  so  they 
must  all  walk  by  the  same  rule,  and  in  the  same  way,  thither.  And  when  I  had  first  mentioned  this  text  of  Scripture 
in  your  hearing,  the  savour  you  expressed  to  me  of  the  subject,  easily  induced  me,  when,  afterwards,  I  reckoned  a 
discourse  upon  it  might  be  of  common  use,  to  address  that  also  (such  as  it  is)  in  this  way,  to  your  Ladyship.  Account- 
ing the  mention  of  your  name  might  draw  the  eyes  of  some  to  it,  that  have  no  reason  to  regard  the  author's,  and  that 
by  this  means,  if  it  be  capable  of  proving  beneficial  to  any,  the  beoefit  might  be  diffused  so  much  the  further. 

The  aptness  of  the  materials  and  subject  here  discoursed  of,  to  do  good  generally,  I  cannot  doubt.  Neither  our 
present  duty  or  peace,  nor  our  future  safety  or  felicity,  can  be  provided  for  as  they  ought,  till  our  minds  be  more  ab- 
stracted from  time,  and  taken  up  about  the  unseen,  eternal  world.  While  our  thoughts  are  too  earnestly  engaged 
about  the  events  of  future  time,  they  are  vain,  bitter,  impure,  and  diverted  from  our  nobler  and  most  necessary  pur- 
suits. They  follow  much  the  temper  and  bent  of  our  spirits,  which  are  often  too  intent  upon  what  is  uncertain,  and 
perhaps  impossible.  All  good  and  holy  persons  cannot  live  in  good  times.  For  who  should  bear  up  the  name  of  God 
in  bad,  and  transmit  it  to  succeeding  times?  Especially  when  good  men  are  not  of  the  same  mind,  it  is  impossible. 
And  more  especially,  when  they  have  not  learned,  as  yet,  to  bear  one  another's  differences.  The  same  time  and  state 
of  things  which  please  some,  must  displease  others.  For  some  that  will  think  themselves  much  injured  if  they  be  not 
thought  very  pious  persons,  will  be  pleased  with  nothing  less  than  the  destruction  of  them  that  differ  from  them.  So 
that  while  this  is  designed  and  attempted  only,  generally  neither  sort  is  pleased  ;  the  one  because  it  is  not  done,  the 
other  because  it  is  in  doing. 

It  must  be  a  marvellous  alteration  of  men's  minds,  that  must  make  the  times  please  us  all ;  while,  upon  supposition 
of  their  remaining  unaltered,  there  is  nothing  will  please  one  sort,  but  to  see  the  other  pagans  or  beggars,  who  in  the 
meantime  are  not  enough  mortified  either  to  their  religion,  or  the  necessary  accommodations  of  human  life,  as  to  be 
well  pleased  with  either. 


THE  EPISTLE  DEDICATORY, 


329 


To  trust  God  cheerfully  with  the  government  of  this  world,  and  to  live  in  the  joyful  hope  and  expectation  of  a  bet- 
ter, are  the  only  means  to  relieve  and  ease  us;  and  give  us  a  vacancy  for  the  proper  work  and  business  of  ourpres  .  t 
time.  This  is  the  design  of  the  following  discourses.  The  former  whereof  is  directed  against  the  careful  thoughts, 
which  are  apt  to  arise  in  our  minds  concerning  the  events  of  future  time,  upon  a  fear  what  they  rnay  be.  The  other, 
which  by  way  of  appendix  is  added  to  the  former,  tends  to  repress  the  immoderate  desire  of  knowing  what  they  shall 
be.  Which  latter  I  thought,  in  respect  of  its  affinity  to  the  other,  fit  to  be  added  to  it;  and  in  respect  of  the  com- 
monness, and  ill  tendency  of  this  distemper,  very  necessary.  And  indeed  both  the  extremes  in  this  matter  are  very 
unchristian,  and  pernicious:  a  stupid  neglect  of  the  Christian  interest,  and  of  God's  providerrcc  about  it,  on  the  one 
hand;  and  an  enthusiastic  phrensy, carrying  men  to  expect  they  well  know  not  what,  or  why,  on  the  other. 

Our  great  care  should  be  to  serve  that  interest  faithfully  in  our  own  stations,  for  our  little  time,  that  will  soon  be 
over.  Your  Ladyship  hath  been  called  to  serve  it  in  a  family  wherein  it  hath  long  flourished.  And  which  it  hath 
dignified,  beyond  all  the  splendour  that  antiquity  and  secular  greatness  could  confer  upon  it.  The  Lord  grant  it  may 
long  continue  to  flourish  there,  under  the  joint  influence  of  your  noble  consort,  and  your  own;  and  afterwards,  in  a 
posterity,  that  may  imitate  their  ancestors  in  substantial  piety,  and  solid  goodness.  Which  is  a  glory  that  will  not 
fade,  nor  vary ;  not  change  with  time«,  but  equally  recommend  itself  to  sober  and  good  men  in  all  times.  Whereas 
that  which  arises  from  the  esteem  of  a  party  can  neither  be  difi"usive  nor  lasting.  'Tis  true  that  I  cannot  but  reckon 
it  apart  of  any  one's  praise  in  a  time  wherein  there  are  different  sentiments  and  ways,  in  circumstantial  matters  re- 
lating to  religion,  to  incline  most  to  that  which  I  take  to  come  nearest  the  truth  and  our  common  rule.  But,  as  was 
said  by  one  that  was  a  great  and  early  light  in  the  Christian  church ;  "  That  is  not  philosophy,  which  is  professed  by 
this  or  that  sect,  but  that  which  is  true  in  all  sects."  So  nor  do  I  take  that  to  be  religion  which  is  peculiar  to  this  or 
that  party  of  Christians,  (many  of  whom  are  too  apt  to  say,  here  is  Christ,  and  there  is  Christ,  as  if  he  were  divided,) 
but  that  which  is  according  to  the  mind  of  God  among  them  all.  And  I  must  profess  to  have  that  honour  for  your 
Ladyship,  which  I  sincerely  bear,  and  most  justly  owe  unto  you,  chiefly  upon  the  account  not  of  the  things  wherein 
you  differ  from  many  other  serious  Christians,  (though  therein  you  agree  also  with  myself,)  as  for  those  things  whereia 
you  agree  with  them  all.  Under  which  notion  (and  under  the  sensible  obligation  of  your  many  singular  favours,)  I  am, 

Madam, 
Your  Ladyship's  very  humble 

And  devoted  servant  in  the  Gospel, 

JOHN  HOWE. 


THOUGHTFULNESS  FOR  THE  FUTURE 


MATTHEW  VL  34. 

TAKE  THEREFORE  NO  THOUGHT  FOR  THE  MORROW  :    FOR  THE  MORPiW  SHAIX  T.4KE  THOTTGHT  FOR  THE  THINGS 
OF  ITSELF.      SUFFICIENT  FOR  THE  DAY  IS  THE  EVIL  THEREOF. 


The  negative  precept,  or  the  prohibition,  in  the  first 

Words  of  this  verse,  I  shall  take  for  the  principal  groimd 

of  the  intended  discourse.     But  shall  make  use  of  the  fol- 

owing  words,  for  the  same  purpose  for  which  they  are 

here  subjoined  by  our  Lord,  viz.  the  enforcement  of  it. 

For  our  better  understanding  the  import  of  the  precept, 
two  things  in  it  require  explication.  How  we  are  to  un- 
derstand the  morrow ;  and  what  is  meant  by  the  thought- 
fulness  we  are  to  abstain  from  in  reference  thereto. 

L  By  the  morrow  must  be  meant,  I.  Some  measure  of 
time  or  other;  II.  Such  occurrences,  as  it  may  be  suppo- 
sed shall  fall  within  the  compass  of  that  time.  We  are 
therefore  to  consider, 

I.  What  portion  or  measure  of  time  may  be  here  sig- 
nified by  to-morrow,  for  some  time  it  must  signify,  in  the 
first  place,  as  fundamental  to  the  further  meaning.  Not 
abstractly,  or  for  itself,  but  as  it  is  the  continent  of  such 
or  such  things  as  may  fall  within  that  time.  And  so  that 
measure  of  time  may, 

1.  Admit,  no  doubt,  to  be  taken  strictly  for  the  very 
ne.xt  day,  according  to  the  literal  import  of  the  word  to- 
morrow.    But, 

2.  It  is  also  to  be  taken  in  a  much  larger  sense,  for  the 
whole  of  our  remaining  time,  all  our  futurity  in  this  world. 
Indeed,  the  whole  time  of  our  life  on  earth  is  spoken  of  in 
the  Scriptures  but  as  a  day.  Let  him  alone,  that  he  may 
accomplish  as  a  hireling  his  day,  Job  xiv.  6.  We  are  a 
sort  of  fiiup6i3ioi,  short-lived  creatures,  we  live  but  a  day, 


take  the  whole  of  our  time  together.  Much  less  strange  is 
it  that  the  little  residue,  the  future  time  that  is  before  us, 
which  we  do  not  know  how  little  it  may  be,  should  be 
spoken  of  but  as  a  day.  Experience  hath  taught  even 
sensual  epicures  so  to  account  their  remaining  time  : 
"  Let  us  eat  and  drink,  for  to-morrow  we  shall  die,"  i.  e. 
very  shortly.  They  were  right  in  their  computation,  bm 
very  wrong  in  their  inference.  It  should  have  been,  le: 
us  watch  and  pray  to-day,  we  are  to  die  to-morrow;  let  us 
labour  for  eternity  because  lime  is  so  short.  But  say  the)', 
"  Let  us  eat  and  drink  to-day,  for  to-morrow  we  shall  die." 
A  day  to  eat  and  drink  was,  it  seems,  a  great  gain.  And 
if  the  phrase  were  not  so  nsed,  to  signify  all  the  residue 
of  our  future  time,  yet  by  consequence  it  must  be  so  im- 
derstood.  For  if  we  take  to-morrow  in  the  strictest  sense, 
for  the  very  next  day;  they  that  are  not  permitted,  with 
solicitude,  to  look  forward  so  far  as  the  very  next  day, 
mtich  less  may  they  to  a  remoter  and  more  distant  time. 
Yea,  and  we  may  in  some  sense  extend  it  not  only  to  all 
our  future  time,  but  simply  to  all  future  time  as  that 
measures  the  concernments  and  affairs,  not  of  this  world 
only,  but,  which  is  more  considerable,  even  of  that  lesser 
select  community,  the  kingdom  of  God  in  it,  mentioned 
in  the  foregoing  verse.  Which  kingdom,  besides  its  future 
eternal  state,  lies  also  spread  and  stretched  throughout  all 
time  unto  the  end  of  the  world.  And  as  to  its  present  and 
temporal  state,  or  as  it  falls  under  the  measure  of  time,  it 
is  not  un'iupposable  that  it  may  be  within  the  comnass  of 


OF  THOUGHTFULNESS  FOR  THE  FUTURE. 


5ur  Saviour's  design,  to  forbid  unto  his  disciples  (who 
were  not  only  to  pursue  the  blessedness  of  that  kingdom 
in  the  other  world,  but  to  intend  the  service  of  it  in  this) 
an  intemperate  and  vexatious  solicitude  about  the  success 
of  their  endeavours,  for  the  promoting  its  present  interest : 
i.  e.  after  he  had  more  directly  forbidden  their  undue  care- 
fulness about  their  own  little  concernments,  what  they 
should  eat,  drink,  or  put  on  ;  and  directed  them  rather  and 
more  principally  to  seek  the  kingdom  of  God  and  his 
righteousness,  with  an  assurance  that  those  other  things 
should  be  added  to  them.  It  seems  not  improbable  he 
might,  in  conclusion,  give  this  general  direction,  as  with  a 
more  especial  reference  to  the  private  concernments  of 
human  life,  about  which  common  frailty  might  make  them 
more  apt  to  be  unduly  thoughtful  :  so  with  some  oblique 
and  secondary  reference  to  the  affairs  of  that  kingdom  too, 
which  they  were  here  to  serve  as  well  as  hereafter  to  par- 
take and  enjoy,  and  about  the  success  of  which  service 
(being  once  engaged  in  it,  and  the  difficulties  they  were 
to  encounter  appearing  great  and  discouraging  to  so  in- 
considerable persons  as  they  must  reckon  themselves) 
they  might  be  somewhat  over-solicitous  also. 

Nor,  though  they  might  not  as  yet  understand  their  own 
work,  nor  (consequently)  have  the  prospect  of  its  difficul- 
ties as  yet  in  view,  are  we  to  think  our  Saviour  intended 
to  limit  the  usefulness  of  the  instructions  he  now  gave 
them  to  the  present  time,  but  meant  them  to  be  of  future 
use  to  them  as  occasions  should  afterwards  occur.  As  we 
also  find  that  they  did  recollect  some  other  sayings  of  his, 
and  understand  better  the  meaning  of  them,  when  parti- 
cular occasions  brought  them  to  mind,  and  discovered  how 
apposite  and  applicable  they  then  were.  Luke  xxiv.  8. 
John  ii.  22.  So  that  we  may  fitly  understand  this  prohibi- 
tion to  intend,  universally,  a  pressing  of  that  too  great  ap- 
titude and  proneness  in  the  minds  of  men,  unto  undue  ex- 
cursions into  futurity,  their  intemperate  and  extravagant 
rangings  and  roamings  into  that  unknown  country,  that 
terra  incognita,  in  which  we  can  but  bewilder  and  lose 
ourselves  to  no  purpose.     Therefore, 

Secondly,  and  more  principally,  by  to-morrov)  we  are  to 
understand  the  things  that  may  fall  within  that  compass 
of  future  time.  For  time  can  only  be  the  object  of  our 
care,  in  that  relative  sense,  as  it  refers  unto  such  and  such 
occurrences  and  emergencies  that  may  fall  into  it.  And 
so  our  Saviour  explains  himself  in  the  very  next  words, 
that  by  to-morrow  he  means  the  things  of  to-morrow.  To- 
morrow shall  take  care  for  the  things  of  itself  And  yet 
here  we  must  carefully  distinguish,  as  to  those  things  of 
to-morrow,  matters  of  event  and  of  duty.  We  are  not  to 
think  these  the  equally  prohibited  objects  of  our  thoughts 
and  care,  Duty  belongs  to  us,  it  falls  within  our  province, 
and  there  are  (no  doubt)  thoughts  to  be  employed,  how  I 
may  continue  on  in  a  course  of  duty,  unto  which  I  am,  by 
all  the  most  sacred  obligations,  tied  for  a  stated  course, 
that  may  lie  before  me,  let  it  be  never  so  long,  and  be 
liever  so  many  to-morrows  in  it.  There  ought  to  be 
thoughts  used,  of  this  sort,  concerning  the  duties  of  the 
morrow,  and  of  all  my  future  time.  If  it  please  God  to  give 
me  such  additional  time,  I  will  love  him  to-morrow,  I  will 
serve  him  to-morrow,  I  will  trust  him  to-morrow,  I  will 
walk  with  him  to-morrow.  I  will,  through  the  grace  of 
God,  live  in  his  fear,  service,  and  communion,  even  as 
long  as  I  have  a  day  to  live.  Upon  such  terms  doth  every 
sincere  Christian  bind  himself  to  God,  even  for  always,  as 
God  binds  himself  to  them  on  the  .same  terms.  This  God 
shall  be  our  God  for  ever  and  ever,  he  shall  be  our  guide 
even  unto  death,  Psal.  xlviii.  14.  The  case  can  never  alter 
with  us  in  this  regard ;  but  as  the  worthiest  object  of  all 
our  thoughts  is  yesterday  and  to-day  the  same,  and  for 
ever,  so  should  the  course  of  our  thoughts  be  too,  in  re- 
ference to  that  blessed  object.  Every  day  will  I  bless  thee, 
and  praise  thy  name  for  ever  and  ever,  Psal.  cxlv.  2.  I 
will  sing  unto  the  Lord  as  long  as  I  live;  I  will  sing 
praise  to  my  God  while  I  have  my  being,  Psal.  civ.  33. 
The  thoughts  of  our  hearts  should  be  much  excited  this 
way,  how  it  may  be  thus  with  us,  in  all  future  time;  that 
to-morrow,  in  this  respect,  may  be  as  this  day,  and  much 
more  abundant  as  is  spoken  on  another  account,  Isa.  Ivi. 
12.  To-morrow  shall  be  as  this  day,  God  assisting,  and 
a  .Maimonid.  Mor.  Nev.  D.  Mer.  Casauboii.  Enthus. 


much  more  abundant  as  to  my  love  to  him,  serving  of 
him,  conversing  with  him,  doing  and  designing  for  him, 
which  are  to  run  through  all  my  days. 

But  now  for  the  events  of  to-morrow,  they  are  things 
quite  of  another  consideration.  They  do  not  belong  to 
us,  they  are  not  of  the  rhhp'  hi^^v,  noneof  the  things  within 
our  compass.  To  employ  ourselves  with  excessive  inten- 
tion of  thoughts  and  cares  concerning  them,  is  to  meddle 
without  our  sphere,  beyond  what  we  have  any  warrant  for, 
further  than  as  it  is  in  some  cases  supposable  there  may 
be  some  connexion,  and  dependance,  between  such  and 
such  events,  and  my  own  either  sin  or  duty.  Now  events 
that  may  occur  to  us  to-morrow,  or  in  our  future  time,  you 
know  are  distinguishable  into  good  or  bad,  grateful  and 
ungrateful,  pleasing  to  us  or  displeasing.  Good  or  grate- 
ful events,  you  easily  apprehend,  are  not  here  intended. 
We  do  not  use  to  perplex  ourselves  about  good  things, 
otherwise  than  as  they  maybe  wanting,  and  as  we  may  be 
deprived  of  them,  which  privation  or  want  is  an  evil. 
And  under  that  notion  our  Saviour  considers  the  object  of 
the  prohibited  thoughtfulness,  as  his  after-words  show : 
Sufficient  for  the  day  is  the  evil  of  it.  And  therefore  gives 
caution  not  equally  against  all  forethoughts,  about  the 
events  of  future  time  ;  of  which  some  may  be  both  ration- 
al, and  pleasant ;  but  against  forebodings,  and  presages  of 
evil  and  direful  things.  As  lest  such  thoughts  should 
slide  into  our  minds,  or  impose  and  obtrude  themselves 
upon  us  :  "  Alas  !  what  shall  I  do  to  live  to-morrow  1  I  am 
afraid  I  shall  want  bread  for  to-morrow,  or  for  my  future 
time."  This  our  Saviour  says  is  paganish,  after  these 
things  do  the  Gentiles  seek,  that  (as  is  intimated)  have  no 
father  to  take  care  of  them.  Your  heavenly  Father  knows 
you  have  need  of  these  things,  (i'.  32.)  and  directs  his 
disciples  to  a  nobler  object  of  their  thoughts  and  care,  {v. 
33.)  Seek  you  first  the  kingdom  of  God;  wherein,  as 
their  future  reward,  so  their  present  work  and  business 
was  to  lie.  And  then  adds.  Take  no  thought  for  to-mor- 
row, q.  d.  it  would  be  indeed  an  ill  thing  if  you  should 
want  bread  to-morrow,  and  it  would  be  worse  if  the  affiiirs 
of  God's  kingdom  should  miscarry,  or  you  be  excluded  it. 
But  mind  you  your  own  present  work,  and  be  not  unduly 
concerned  about  these  surmised  bad  events,  God  will  pro- 
vide. This  is  then,  in  short,  the  object  of  this  prohibited 
thoughtfulness — future  time  including  whatsoever  un- 
grateful events  we  suppose  and  pre-apprehend  in  it. 

Secondly,  We  are  to  inquire  about  the  thoughtfulness 
prohibited  in  reference  hereto.  It  cannot  be  that  all  use 
of  thoughts  about  future  events,  even  such  as,  when  they 
occur,  may  prove  afflictive,  is  intended  to  be  forbidden. 
Which  indeed  may  be  collected  from  the  import  of  the 
word  in  the  text  that  signifies  another,  peculiar  sort  of 
thinking,  as  we  shall  hereafter  have  more  occasion  to  take 
notice.  We  were  made,  and  are  naturally,  thinking  crea- 
tures ;  yea,  and  forethinking,or  capable  of  prospiciency  and 
foresight.  'Tis  that  by  which  in  part  man  is  distinguished 
from  beast,  Without  disputing*  as  some  do  how  far  na- 
ture, in  this  or  that  man,  doth  contribute  to  divination 
and  prophecy;  we  may  say  of  man  indefinitely,  he  is  a 
sort  of  divining  creature,  and  of  human  nature  in  common, 
that  it  much  excels  the  brutal,  in  this,  that,  whereas  sense 
is  limited  to  the  present,  reason  hath  dignified  our  nature 
by  adding  to  it  a  .sagacity,  and  enabling  us  to  use  prospec- 
tion  in  reference  to  what  yet  lies  more  remotely  before  us. 
And  though  we  are  too  apt  to  a  faulty  excess  herein,  and 
to  be  over-presaging,  (which  it  is  the  design  of  this  dis- 
course to  show,)  yet  we  are  not  to  think  that  all  use  of  any 
natural  faculty  can  be  a  fault ;  for  that  would  be  to  charge 
a  fault  on  the  Author  of  nature.  The  faculties  will  be  aclive. 
To  plant  them  therefore  in  our  natures,  and  forbid  their 
use,  were  not  consistent  with  the  wisdom,  righteousness, 
and  goodness  by  which  they  are  implanted.  It  must  there- 
fore be  our  business  to  show— what  thoughtfulness  is  not, 
— and  then,  what  is  within  the  compass  of  this  prohibition. 

1.  What  is  not.  There  is,  in  the  general,  a  prudent, 
and  there  is  a  Christian,  use  of  forethought,  about  matters 
of  that  nature  already  specified;  which  we  cannot  under- 
stand it  was  our  Saviour's  meaning  to  forbid. 

1.  A  prudent,  which  imports  reference  to  an  end.  Our 
actions  are  so  far  said  to  be  governed  by  prudence,  and  to 


OP  THOUGHTFULNESS  FOR  THE  FUTURE. 


331 


firoceed  from  it  as  they  do  designedly  and  aptly  serve  a  va- 
uable  end. 

1.  The  foresight  of  evils  probable,  yea  even  possible,  to 
befall  us,  is  useful,  upon  a  prudential  account,  to  several 
verj'  considerable  ends  and  purposes ;  either  to  put  us 
upon  doing  the  more  good  in  the  meantime,  or  upon  the 
endeavour  (within  moderate  bounds,  and  as  more  may  be 
needful)  of  possessing  more  ;  or  that  we  may  avert  or 
avoid  imminent  evils  ;  or  that  what  cannot  be  avoided,  we 
may  be  the  better  able  to  bear. 

1.  That  we  may  be  incited,  hereupon,  to  do  all  the  good 
we  can  in  the  world,  in  the  meantime,  before  such  evils 
overtake  and  prevent  us.  For  prudence  itself  will  teach  a 
man  to  account  (and  hath  taught  even  heathens)  that  he 
doth  not  live  in  this  world,  merely,  that  he  may  live  ;  that 
he  is  not  to  live  wholly  to  himself;  his  friends  claim  a  part 
in  him,  his  neighbours  a  part,  his  country  a  part,  the 
world  a  part.  He  lives  not  at  the  rate  of  a  prudent  man 
that  thinks  of  living  only  to  indulge  and  gratify  himself, 
and  consult  his  own  ease  and  pleasure,  and  upon  this  con- 
sideration, his  prudence  should  instruct  him  to  do  all  the 
present  good  he  can,  because  there  are  evils  in  view  that 
may  narrow  his  capacity,  and  snatch  from  him  the  oppor- 
tunity of  doing  much.  The  evil  day  (as  it  is  more  emi- 
nently called)  is  not  far  off.  He  should  therefore  bethink 
himself  of  doing  good  to  his  friend  (as  the  son  of  Syrack 
speaks)  before  he  die.  And  there  are  other  evils  that  may 
anticipate  that  day  ;  imto  which  the  preacher  hath  refer- 
ence, (Eccles.  xi.  2.)  when  he  directs,  to  give  a  portion  to 
seven  and  also  to  eight,  because  we  know  not  what  evil 
shall  be  upon  the  earth.  We  cannot  tell  how  soon  we  may 
have  neither  power  nor  time  left  to  do  it  in. 

Yea,  and  secondly,  That  we  may  be  provided  (as  far  as 
it  lies  within  the  compass  of  regular  endeavour)  of  such 
needful  good  things,  as  are  reqtiisite  for  our  support  in  this 
our  pilgrimage;  and  especially,  upon  occasion  of  a  fore- 
seen calamity  approaching.  This,  as  prudence  doth  re- 
quire, so  we  cannot  suppose  our  Saviour  doth  by  a  con- 
stant rule  forbid,  who  sometime  enjoined  his  disciples  to 
carry  a  scrip  with  them,  though  at  another  time  (that  they 
might,  once  for  all,  be  convinced  of  the  sufficient  care  of 
Providence,  when  or  howsoever  they  should  be  precluded 
from  using  their  own)  he  did,  extraordinarily,  forbid  it. 
And  'tis  evident  that,  in  common  cases,  it  is  more  espe- 
cially incumbent  on  the  master  of  a  family  to  make  provi- 
sion for  his  household  for  the  future ;  to  provide  in  the 
more  convenient  season  of  the  year,  as  in  summer,  for  the 
following  winter.  A  document  which  the  slothful  are  sent 
to  learn  from  a  very  despicable  instructor.  Go  to  the  ant, 
thou  sluggard,  Prov.  vi.  G,  &c.     And  again, 

Thirdly,  That  the  approaching  evil  may,  if  avoidable,  be 
declined,  the  prudent  man  foresees  the  evil  and  hides  him- 
self, when  the  simple  pass  on  and  are  punished,  Prov.  xxii. 
3.  And,  perhaps,  for  this  their  simplicity ;  that  they  re- 
gardlessly  go  on  with  a  stupid  negligence  of  all  warnings, 
til]  the  stroke  and  storm  fall.  Which,  whereas  there  may 
he  one  event  to  the  wise  man  and  the  fool,  (as  Eccles.  ii. 
14.)  will  prove  to  the  one  a  mere  affliction,  to  the  other 
(upon  this  as  well  as  other  accounts)  a  proper  and  most 
deserved  punishment.  Because  (as  is  there  said)  the  wise 
man's  eyes  are  in  his  head,  prompt  and  ready  for  their  pre- 
sent use,  the  fool  walks  in  darkness,  which  must  be  under- 
stood of  a  voluntary  self-created  darkness,  as  if  he  had 
plucked  out  his  own  eyes.  Which  is  the  wickedness  of 
folly,  as  the  same  Ecclesiastes's  phrase  is,  ch.  vii.  v.  25. 

Fourthly,  That  what  cannot  be  avoided  maybe  the  more 
easily  borne.  Every  man  counts  it  desirable,  not  to  be 
surprised  by  evils  that  are  unavoidable  and  no  way  to  be 
averted.  Prudence  will,  in  such  a  case,  use  forethoughts 
to  better  purpose,  than  only  to  anticipate  and  multiply  an 
affliction,  or  consequently,  to  increase  its  weight;  but  much 
to  alleviate  and  lessen  it:"  by  learning  to  bear  it ;  gradually, 
and  by  gentle  essays  to  acquaint  the  shoulder  with  the 
burden  :  to  inure  and  compose  the  mind,  and  reconcile  it 
to  the  several  circumstances  (so  far  as  they  are  foreseen)  of 
that  less-pleasing  state  we  are  next  to  pass  into.  Which 
advantage  might  be  one  reason  whv  Solomon,  in  the  above- 
mentioned  place,  (though  according  to  the  genius  of  that 
reasoning  book  he  variously  discourses  things  on  the  one 
hand  and  the  other,)  prefers  wisdom  to  folly  as  much  as 


light  to  darkness,  (Eccles.  ii.  13.)  though  one  event  may 
happen  to  both.  'Tis  an  uncomfortable  thing  to  walk  in 
darkness;  and  (supposing  there  be  that  wisdom  that  can 
make  due  use  of  a  prospect)  not  to  .see  an  evil  till  we  meet 
and  feel  it.  Unexpected  evils  carry,  as  such,  a  more  pe- 
culiar sting  and  pungency  with  them:  when  any  shall  say, 
Peace,  peace,  till  sudden  destruction  comes  upon  them  as 
travail  on  a  woman  with  child,  1  Thes.  v.  3.  Nor  csm  we 
reasonably  think  it  was  any  part  of  our  Saviour's  intend- 
ment, to  advise  his  disciples  unto  such  a  self-revenging  se- 
curity, who  so  often  enjoins  them  watchfulness,  because  of 
what  should  come  to  pass.  Or  that  he  should  counsel  them 
to  the  same  thing,  for  which  he  blames  and  upbraids  the 
Pharisees  and  Sadducees,  their  not  discerning  thesigns  of 
the  times.  Upon  all  these  prudential  accounts  there  is  a 
use  of  forethoughts  about  future  approaching  evils. 

Secondly,  Ai\A  there  is  a  further  use  to  be  made  of 
them  upon  an  account  more  purely  Giristio/n.  I  would 
tempt  none,  under  pretence  of  distinguishing  these  heads, 
to  think  they  should  oppose  them.  Christianity  must  be 
understood  in  reference  to  common  prudence  to  be  cumu- 
lative, not  privative.  It  adds  to  it  therefore  ;  opposes  it 
not,  but  supposes  it  rather.  And  indeed  it  adds  that,  upon 
the  account  whereof  we  are  far  the  more  liable  to  afflicting 
evils,  and  so  are  the  more  concerned  to  use  forethoughts 
about  them.  For,  whereas  there  are  much  rarer  instances 
of  suffering  merely  for  the  duties  of  natural  religion,  v,-hich 
the  common  reason  of  man  acknowledges  equal  and  un- 
exceptionable, we  are  plaini)'  told  that  all  that  will  live 
godly  in  Chrixt  Jesus,  shall  suffer  persecution,  (2  Tinriij. 
12.)  though  not  in  all  times  alike.  Here  therefore  'tis  ne- 
cessary we  have  serious  forethoughts  of  the  evils  which 
seem  likely  to  befall  us,  for  the  Christian  interest,  upon 
several  accounts. 

1.  That  we  may  espouse  it  sincereU^;  and  enter  our- 
selves the  disciples  of  Christ  with  a  true  heart :  which  we 
are  not  likely  toiloif  we  understand  not  his  terms,  and  do 
not  consider  the  state  of  the  ease.  What  is  done  without 
judgment,  or  upon  mistake,  is  not  like  to  he  done  in  truth. 
If  we  fall  in  with  Christ  and  Christianity  upon  supposition 
of  only  halcyon  days,  in  our  lime,  and  that  we  shall  never 
be  called  to  suffer  for  him,  we  shall  most  probably  de- 
ceive ourselves,  aaid  prove  false  to  him.  It  will  appear 
oui  barg-ain  was  void  in  the  making,  as  to  any  tie  we  can 
have  upon  him.  We  are  to  reckon,  when  we  take  on  the  yoke 
of  Christ,  of  bearing,  also,  his  cross;  ami  be  in  a  prepara- 
tion of  mind  to  lose  and  suffer  all  things  for  hiin.  And  to 
use  forethoughts  of  this  kind  is  what  he  enjoins  us,  (Luke 
xiv.  18.)  under  the  expression  of  countingthe  cost,  what  it 
may  amount  unto  to  be  a  resolved  sincere  Christian.  And 
he  tells  us  withal,  what  the  cost  is  to  forsake  all,  (r.  33.) 
to  abandon  father,  mother,  wife,  children,  brethren,  sisters, 
and  one's  own  life,  v.  26.  And  all  this,  (as  is  often  incul- 
cated.) as  that  without  which  a  man  cannot  be  his  disciple, 
i.  e.  not  become  one,  as  there  the  phrase  must  signify !  So 
that  though  he  have  come  to  him,  i.e.  have  begun  to  treat, 
(If  a  man  come  to  me)  and  do  not  so,  in  his  previous  reSiO 
lution,  nothing  is  concluded  between  Christ  and  him. 

Secondly,  That,  upon  this  constant  prospect  of  the  state 
of  our  case  we  mav  endeavour  our  own  conhnnation.  from 
time  to  time,  in  our  fidelity  to  him.  For  new  and  unlbre- 
thought  occasions,  that  we  have  not  comprehended  in  their 
particulars,  or  in  equivalence,  may  beget  new  impressions, 
and  dispositions  to  revolt.  Besides  all  that  had  come  upon 
those  faithful  confessors,  (Ps.  xliv.)  that  they  were  sore 
broken  in  the  place  of  dragons,  and  covered  w-ith  the  sha- 
dow of  death  ;  (r.  I'.).)  notwithstanding  which  they  appeal 
to  God,  that  their  heart  was  not  turned  back,  and  that 
their  steps  had  not  declined  from  his  wa}':  and  ofler  them- 
selves to  his  search,  whether  they  had  forgotten  him.  or 
stretched  out  their  hands  to  a  strange  god.  They  add.  Yea, 
for  thy  sake  we  are  killed  all  the  day  long.  They  reckon 
upon  nothing  but  suffering,  and  that  to  utmost  extremity, 
all  the  rest  of  their  day,  and  yet  are  still  of  the  same  mintL 
Patience  must  be  laid  in,  that  may  be  drawn  forth  unto 
long-suffering.  And  we  are  to  endure  to  the  end.  that  we 
may  be  saved.  And  therefore  suffering  to  the  last,  is  to  be 
forethought  of;  through  the  whole  course  of  which  state  ot 
suffering  we  must  resolve,  through  the  grace  of  Christ, 
never  to  desert  his  interest.  Otherwise  we  are  so  deceived, 


333 


OF  THOUGHTFULNESS  FOR  THE  FUTURE. 


as  he  that  goes  to  build  a  tower,  without  counting  what 
his  expense  will  be  before-hand ;  or  he  that  is  to  meet  an 
enemy  in  the  field,  without  making  a  computation  of  the 
equality  or  inequality  of  the  forces  on  the  one  side  and  the 
other ;  as  our  Saviour  further  discourses  in  the  above- 
mentioned  context. 

Thirdly,  That  we  may  cast  with  ourselves  how,  not  only 
not  to  desert  the  Christian  interest,  but  most  advantage- 
ously to  serve  it.  Suppositions  ought  to  be  made  of  what- 
soever difhculties  seem  not  unlikely  to  be  in  our  case,  that 
we  may  bethink  ourselves  how  we  may  be  of  most  use  to 
the  interest  of  our  great  Master  and  Lord,  upon  such  and 
such  emergencies.  For  such  a  supposition  he  himself 
suggests,  Matt.  x.  23.  If  they  persecute  you  in  this  city, 
flee  ye  into  another.  And  'tis  likely  he  gives  this  direc- 
tion not  with  respect  merely  to  their  being  safe,  but  ser- 
viceable, as  the  following  words  seem  to  intimate.  For  ve- 
rily I  say  unto  you,  ye  shall  not  have  gone  over  the  cities 
of  Israel,  till  the  Son  of  man  be  come,  q.  d.  "  You  will 
have  work  to  do  whither  ever  you  come,  and  will  scarce 
have  done  all  within  that  allotment  of  time  you  will  have 
for  it,  before  the  vengeance  determined  upon  this  people 
prevent  you  of  further  opportunity  among  them  :"  as  Ter- 
tullian  discourses  at  large,  and  not  irrationally,  upon  this 
subject,  and  Augustine  to  the  like  purpose. b 

Fourthly,  That  we  may  be  the  more  excited  to  pray  for 
the  preservation  and  prosperity  of  the  Christian  interest. 
Those  we  should  always  reckon  the  worst  days,  that  are 
of  worst  abode  unto  it,  though  we  expect  our  own  share  in 
the  calamities  of  such  days.  When  his  interest  declines, 
and  there  are  phenomena  in  providence,  appearances  and 
aspects  very  threatening  to  it,  there  ought  to  be  the  more 
earnest  oiid  importunate  praying.  And  that  there  may  be 
so,  our  eye  should  look  forward,  and  be  directed  towards 
the  foreshown  events  as  from  whence  we  are  to  take  ar- 
guments and  motives  to  prayer.  And  we  should  reckon 
therefore  they  are  presignihed  that  we  may  be  excited,  and 
a  dutiful  love  to  his  great  name  be  awakened  in  us.  What 
shall  be  done  to  thy  great  namel  What  shall  become  of 
thy  kingdom  among  men  1  Nor  can  we  ever  pray  "  thy 
kingdom  come,"  without  a  prospect  to  futurity.  Yea,  and 
all  prayer  hath  reference  to  somewhat  yet  future.  If  there- 
fore all  forethoughts  about  the  concernments  of  future  time 
were  simply  forbidden,  there  were  no  place  left  for  prayer 
at  all.  Hitherto  then  we  see  how  far  taking  thought  about 
the  future  is  not  forbidden. 

Second! ij,  We  are  next  therefore  to  show  wherein  it  is. 
And  it  appears  from  what  hath  been  said,  it  is  not  evil  in 
itself,  for  then  it  must  be  universally  so,  and  no  circum- 
stance could  make  it  good  or  allowable  in  any  kind. 
Therefore  it  must  be  evil  only  either  by  participation  or  by 
redundancy.  And  so  it  may  be,  either  as — proceeding 
from  evil,  or  as  tending  to  evil :  i.  e.  in  respect  either  of 
the  evil  causes  from  which  it  comes,  or  of  the  ill  effects  to 
which  it  tends.  Under  these  two  heads  we  shall  compre- 
hend what  is  to  be  said  for  opening  the  sense  wherein  it 
may  be  understood  to  fall  under  the  present  prohibition. 

1.  All  such  thoaghtfulness  must  be  understood  to  be 
evil  and  forbidden  as  hath  an  ill  root  and  original.  As, 
before,  our  Saviour,  in  this  sermon  of  his,  forbids  some- 
what else  under  this  notion,  because  it  cometh  of  evil. 
What  doth  so,  partakes  from  thence  an  ill  savour.  Those 
are  evil  thoughts  that  participate,  and,  as  it  were,  taste  of  an 
evil  cause,  which  may  be  manifold.     As, 

First,  It  may  proceed  from  a  groundless  and  too  confident 
presumption,  that  we  shall  live  to-morrow,  and  that  our  to- 
morrow shall  be  a  long  day,  or  that  we  have  much  time 
before  us  in  the  world  ;  which  as  it  really  is  a  great  un- 
certainty, ought  always  to  be  so  esteemed.  Men  presume 
first,  and  lake  somewhat  for  granted  which  they  ought  not, 
and  make  that  their  hypothesis,  upon  which  they  lay  a 
frame  of  iniquity  of  this  kind,  and  make  it  the  ground  of 
much  forbidden  thoughtfulness  and  care.  They  forget  in 
whose  hands  their  breath  is,  assume  to  themselves  the 
measuring  of  their  own  time,  as  if  they  were  lords  of  it, 
take  it  for  granted,  they  shall  live  so  long ;  and  accordingly 
form  their  projects,  lay  designs,  and  then  grow  very  soli- 

b.  Evpos  in  Evang.  Johan  c.  10.  If  they  persecute  yon  in  one  city.  flv.  &c. 
Yet  Lord,  tliou  sayst,  the  hireling  fleeth  Who  is  this  hireling?  He  that  flies 
ieeking  liis  own  things,  not  the  things  of  Jesns  Clirist.  Thou  hast  Hed  (though 


citous  how  they  will  succeed  and  take  efTect.  By  break- 
ing another  former  law,  they  lead  themselves  into  the 
transgression  of  this,  i.  e.  first  boast  of  to-morrow  against 
the  prohibition,  (Prov.  xxvii.  1.)  and  then  proceed  unduly 
to  take  thought  for  to-morrow.  The  case  which  we  find 
falls  under  animadversion.  Jam.  iv.  19,  &c.  To-morrow 
we  will  go  to  such  a  city,  and  buy  and  sell,  and  get  gain , 
when  as  (saith  that  apostle)  you  do  not  know  what  shall 
be  on  the  morrow ;  for  what  is  your  life,  is  it  not  a  vapour  1 
&c.  Would  we  learn  to  die  daily,  and  consider  that,  for 
ought  we  know,  to-morrow,  in  the  strictest  sense,  may 
prove  the  day  of  our  death,  and  that  then,  in  that  very  day 
must  our  thoughts  perish,  we  should  think  less  intensely 
on  the  less  fruitful  subjects.  Our  thoughts  would  take  a 
higher  flight,  not  flutter  in  the  dust,  and  fill  our  souls  with 
gravel,  as  is  our  wont ;  and  less  no  doubt  offend  against 
the  true  meaning  of  this  interdict  of  our  Saviour  in  the 
text. 

Secondly,  There  maybe  an  undue  forbidden  thoughtful- 
ness about  to-morrow,  proceeding  from  a  too  curious  in 
quisitiveness,  and  affectation  of  prying  into  futurity.  Men 
have  nothing  here  but  gloom  and  cloudy  darkness  before 
them.  Fain  they  would  with  their  weak  and  feeble  beam 
pierce  the  cloud,  and  cannot;  'tis  retorted,  and  doth  not 
enter.  They  think  to  reinforce  it  by  a  throng  and  thick 
succession  of  thoughts,  but  do  only  think  themselves  into 
the  more  confusion ;  cannot  see  what  is  next  before  them. 
What  new  scene  shall  first  open  upon  them,  they  cannot 
tell.  And  (as  is  natural  to  them  that  converse  in  dubious 
darkness^  their  thoughts  turn  all  to  fear.  And  they  there- 
fore thiuK  the  more,  and  as  their  thoughts  multiply,  in- 
crease their  fear.  Whereas  they  should  retire,  and  abstain 
from  conversing  in  so  disconsolate  a  region,  among  shades 
and  spectres,  which  are  their  own  creatures,  perhaps,  for 
the  most  part;  and  wherewith  they  first  cheat,  and  then 
fright  themselves.  They  should  choose  rather  to  converse 
in  the  light  of  former  and  present  things,  which  they 
know  ;  and  of  such  greater  and  more  considerable  futuri- 
ties as  God  hath  thought  fit  plainly  to  reveal.  And  be 
contented  there  should  be  arcana,  and  that  such  future 
things  remain  so,  as  God  hath  reserved  and  locked  up 
from  us.  It  is  not  for  you  to  know  the  times  and  seasons, 
which  the  Father  hath  put  in  his  own  power,  saith  our  Sa- 
viour (departing)  unto  his  disciples,  (Acts  i.  7.)  when  he 
was  now  going  up  into  glory.  Fain  they  would  have  known 
how  it  should  speed  afterwards  with  them,  and  his  inter- 
est. Wilt  thou  now  (say  they)  restore  the  kingdom  to 
Israel?  It  is  not  for  you  (says  he)  to  know,  &c.  If  God 
should  any  way  give  us  light  into  futurity,  'tis  to  be  ac- 
cepted, if  we  are  sure  it  is  from  him  ;  and  be  regarded  ac- 
cording to  what  proofs  there  are  that  it  is  so.  As,  some- 
times, he  doth  premonish  of  very  considerable  events,  that 
are  coming  on  ;  and,  according  to  what  of  evidence  there 
is  in  any  such  monition,  ought  the  impressions  to  be  upon 
our  spirits.  But  when  out  of  our  own  fancies  we  will 
supply  the  want  of  such  a  discovery,  and  curiously  busy 
(much  more  if  we  hereupon  torment)  ourselves  to  no  pur- 
pose ;  this  we  cannot  doubt  is  forbidden  us.  But  we  shall 
say  more  of  it  hereafter  apart  by  itself.  And  with  this  we 
may  most  fitly  connect. 

Thirdly,  That  such  thoughtfulness  about  the  future  is  to 
be  concluded  undue  and  forbidden,  as  proceeds  from  a  too 
conceited  self-indulgent  opinion  of  our  own  wisdom,  and 
ability  to  foresee  what  shall  happen.  For  from  our  very 
earnest  desire  to  foreknow,  may  easily  arise  a  belief  that  we 
do,  or  can  do  so.  As  a  dream  cometh  from  multitude  of 
business,  the  over-busy  agitation  and  exercise  of  our  minds 
about  what  shall  be,  makes  us  dream,  and  in  our  dream 
we  seem  to  ourselves  to  see  visions ;  and  have  before  us 
very  accurate  schemes  and  prospects  of  things.  How  in- 
ventive are  men,  and  ingenious  in  contriving  their  frames 
and  models,  either  direful  and  dismal,  or  pleasant  and  en- 
taining,  as  the  disposition  of  their  minds  is,  compared 
with  the  present  aspect  of  affairs,  which  variously  impresses 
them  this  way  or  that !  If  they  be  terrible  and  dismal, 
but  raised  only  upon  a  conceited  opinion  of  our  own  great 
skill  and  faculty  in  foreseeing,  they  have  their  afflicting 
C 

present)  because  thou  wast  silent ;  wast  silent,  because  thou  wust  afraid  i 
fear  is  tfie  fliglit  of  the  mind,  &c. 


OF  TIIOUGHTFULINESS  FOR  THE  FUTURE. 


333 


evil  in  themselves,  our  own  creature  (of  itself  ravenous) 
tears  and  torments  us.     If  they  be  pleasant  anri  deleciable, 
yet  they  may  become  afflicting  by  accident.     For  some  one 
unihought-of  thing,  falling  oui  contrary  to  our  expectation, 
may  overturn  our  whole  model  and  fabric,  as  a  touch  doth 
a  liouse  of  cards,  and  then  we  play  the  child's  jjart  m  de- 
ploring, as  we  did  in  erecting    it;  fret  and  despair  that 
tilings  can  ever  be  brought  to  so  good  a  posture  again. 
But  whether  they  be  the  one  or  the  other,  their  sinful  evil 
(which  we  are  now  considering)  they  owe  to  one  and  the 
same  culpable  cause,  that  we  are  so  over-wise,  and  take 
upon  us  with  such  confidence  to  conclude  of  what  shall 
be ;  as  if  our  wisdom  were  the  measure  of  things,  or  could 
give  laws  to  Providence  from  which  it  can  never  vary.    It 
IS  not  in  itself  a  fault  to  be  afraid  of  what  is  formidable,  or 
pleased  v/iih  what  is  pleasant,  except  it  be  wilh  excess.  But 
it  is  our  fault  10  be  either  frighted  wiihshaxlows,  or  to  surfeit 
ourselves  wilh  a  temporal  short  pleasure  drawn  out  from 
them,  that  may,  afterward,  revenge  itself  upon  us  with  the 
sharpertorture,  whenas  all  their  power  to  hurt  us  they  re- 
ceive from  ourselves ;  and  have  no  more  of  reality  or  exist- 
ence, than  a  strong  imagination,  and  confidence  of  our  own 
undeceivable  wit  and  sa^racity,  gives  them.   Who  in  all  the 
world  have  minds  so  vexed  with  sudden  passions  of  fear  and 
hope,  joy  and  sorrow,  anger  and  despair,  as  )'our  smatter- 
ing pedants  in  policy,  such  as  set  up  for  dons ;  and  who 
fancy  themselves  men  of  great  reach,  able  to  foretell  remote 
changes,  and  see  things  whose  distance  makes  them  in- 
visible to  all  but  themselves:  that  hold  a  continual  coun- 
cil-table in  their  own  divining  heads,  think  themselves  to 
comprehend  all  reasons  of  state :  are  as  busy  as  princes 
and  emperors,  or  their  greatest  ministers  ;  mightily  taken 
up  in  all  affairs,  but  those  of  their  own  private  stations; 
and  thereby   qualified    to  be   siate    weather-glasses,    but 
prove  no  better  for  the  use  they  pretend  for,  than  a  com- 
mon almanack,  where  you  may  write  wet  for  dry  through- 
out the  year,  and  as  much  hit  the  truth.     They  that  shall 
consider  the  abstruseness  of  designs  and  transactions  that 
relate  to  the  public,  and  how  much  resolutions  about  them 
depend  upon  what  it  is  fit  should  be  commonly  unknown  ; 
so  that  thejf  that  judge  without  doors  must  tiiink  and   talk 
at  random:  and  withal  that  shall  consider  the  uncertainty 
of  human  affairs,  and  that  they  who  manage  them  are  liable 
to  ignorances,  mistakes,  incogiiancies,  and  to  the  hurry  of 
various  passions,  as  well  as  other  men ;  especially  that  shall 
consider  the  many  surprising  interpositions  of  an  over- 
ruling hand,  and  what  innumerable  varieties  of  paths  lie 
open  to  the  view  and  choice  of  an  infinite  mind,  which  we 
can  have  no  apprehension  of;  might   easily,  before-hand, 
apprehend  the  vanity  of  attempting  much  in  this  kind,  as 
common  experience  daih' shows  it,  afterwards.     So  that 
muliiiudes  of  presa^ino:  thoughts,  and  agitations  of  mind, 
which  proceed  from  the  suppo.sition  of  the  contrary,  cannot 
be   without   much   sin  against  this  precept  of  our  Lord. 
And  which  would  mostly  be  avoided,  would  we  once  learn 
to  lay  no  great  stress  of  expectaion  upon   any  thing  that 
mav    •e    otherwise;  and    to    reckon    (with   that  modesty 
which  would  well  become  us)  that  we  can  foresee  nothing 
in  the  course  of  ordinary  human  affairs  upon  more  certain 
terms. 

Fourthly,  Here  is  especially  forbidden  such  thoughfful- 
ness  as  proceeds  from  a  secret  distrust  of  Providence,  from  a 
latent,  lurking  atheism,  or  (which  comes  all  to  one  as  to  the 
matter  of  religion)  an  only  epicurian  theism  that  excludes 
the  Divine  presence  and  government ;  i.  e.  call  it  by  one  of 
these  names  or  the  other,  whatsoever  thoughifulness  pro- 
ceeds from  our  not  having  a  fixed,  steady,  actual  belief,  of 
the  wise,  holv,  righteous,  and  powerful  Providence  that 
governs  all  affairs  in  the  world,  and  particularly  all  our  own 
affairs,  no  doubt  highly  offends  against  this  law.  When 
we  have  thought  God  out  of  the  world,  what  a  horrid  dark- 
ness do  we  turn  it  into  to  ourselves !  what  a  dismal  waste 
and  wilderness  do  we  make  it!  We  can  have  no  prospect 
but  of  darkness  and  desolation  always  before  us.  Did  we 
apprehend  God  as  every  where  present  and  active ;  (Deum 
ire  per  nu.iies  terrasqive  tractusq^ie  maris — )  thai  heavens, 
earth,  and  seas  are  replenished  with  a  divine  jnnrerfvl  pre- 
sence;  were  our  minds  possessed  with  the  belief  of  his 
fulness  filling  all  in  all,  and  of  governing  power  and  wis- 
lom^  extending  to  all  times  as  well  as  places ;  there  were 


neither  time  nor  place  left  for  undue  thoughtfulness  of 
what  is,  or  shall  be.  Butby  a  secret  disbelief  of  Providence, 
or  our  not  having  a  serious,  fixed,  lively,  practical  belief  of 
it,  we  put  ourselves  into  the  condition  of  the  more  stupid 
pagans,  and  are  not  only  as  strangers  to  the  commonwealth 
of  Israel,  and  the  covenants  of  promise,  and  without  Christ 
and  hope,  but  even  as  without  God  in  the  world,  or  atheists 
in  it,  as  the  word  there  signifies,  Ephes.  ii.  12.  And  when 
we  have  thus  by  our  own  disbelief  shut  out  God,  how 
over-oflSciously  do  we  offer  ourselves  to  succeed  into 
his  place  !  And  now  how  immense  a  charge  have  we 
taken  upon  us  !  We  will  govern  the  world,  and  order 
affairs,  and  times,  and  seasons  :  a  province  for  which  we 
are  as  fit  as  he  whom  the  poetic  fable  places  in  the  chariot 
of  the  sun.  And  so  were  it  in  our  power,  we  should  put 
all  things  into  a  combustion.  But  it  is  too  much  for  us, 
that  our  impotency  serves  us  to  scorch  ourselves  and  set 
our  own  souls  on  fire.  How  do  our  own  thoughts  ferment, 
and  glow  within  us,  when  we  feel  our  inability  to  di.'^pose 
of  things,  and  counterwork  cross  events,  or  even  shift  for 
ourselves  !  For  what  are  we  to  fill  up  the  room  of  God  ! 
or  supply  the  place  of  an  excluded  deity  !  No  wonder  if 
troublous  thoughts  multiply  upon  us,  till  we  cannot  sustain 
the  cumbersome  burden.  The  context  shows  this  to  be 
the  design  of  our  Lord,  to  possess  the  minds  of  his  di.=ci- 
ples,  when  heprohibits  them  thoughtfulness,  with  a  serious 
believing  apprehension  of  Providence,  such  a  Providence 
as  reacheth  to  all  things  ;  even  the  most  minute,  and  in- 
considerable ;  to  the  birds  that  fly  in  the  air,  the  flowers 
that  grow  in  men's  gardens,  the  gra.ss  in  their  fields,  and 
(elsewhere)  the  hairs  on  their  own  heads.  And  certainly 
if  we  could  but  carr}'  with  us  apprehensive  minds  of  such 
a  Providence  every  where  acting,  and  which  nothing  es- 
capes, it  must  exclude  the  thoughtfulness  here  intended  lo 
be  forbidden.  _ 

Fifthly,  Such  as  proceeds  from  an  ungovernable  .spirit,  a 
heart  not  enough  subdued  to  the  ruling  power  of  God  over 
the  world.  Not  only  distrustfulness  of  Providence,  but  rebel- 
lion against  it,  may  be  the  (very  abundant)  spring  of  undue 
thoughtfulness.  A  temjier  of  spirit  impatient  ofgovein- 
ment,  self-willed,  indomitable  ;  that  says,  I  must  have  my 
own  will  and  way,  and  things  must  be  af  er  xny  mind  and 
manner;  can  never  be  unaccompanied  with  a  solicitude 
that  tJiey  may  do  so,  as  undutiful  and  sinful  as  its  cause. 
A  mind  unietractably  set,  and  pre-engaged  one  way,  can- 
not but  be  filled  with  tumult,  and  mutinous  thoughts,  upon 
any  appearing  probability  that  things  may  fall  out  other- 
wise. In  reference  to  an  afflicted  suffering  condition  (how 
ungrateful  soever  it  be  to  our  flesh)  a  filial  subjection  to 
the  Father  of  our  spirits  is  required  under  highest  penalty. 
Shall  we  not  be  subject  to  the  Father  of  spirits  and  live  1 
Heb.  xii.  9.  To  mutiny  is  mortal,  q.  d.  you  must  be  sub- 
ject, your  life  lies  on  it.  The  title  which  the  sacred  pen- 
man there  fixes  on  God,  the  Father  of  spirits,  is  observable, 
and  ought  to  be  both  instructive  and  grateful  to  us.  He 
is  the  great  paternal  Spirit.  We  (in  respect  of  our  spirits) 
are  his  offspring  (as  the  apostle  elsewhere  from  a  heathen 
poet  urges,  Act.  xvii.)  In  this  context  the  fathers  of  our 
flesh  and  the  Father  of  spirits  are  studiously  contiadistin- 
guished  to  one  another.  The  relation  God  bears  to  us  as 
our  Father  terminates  on  our  spirits.  And  his  paternal 
care  and  love  cannot  but  follow  the  relation,  and  princi- 
pally terminate  there  too.  He  must  be  chiefly  concerned 
about  our  spirits,  that  they  be  preserved  in  a  good  and 
healthful  state.  If  therefore  it  be  requisite  for  the  advan- 
tage of  our  spirits,  that  our  flesh  do  suffer,  we  are  not  to 
think  he  will  stand  upon  that,  or  oppose  the  gratification  of 
our  flesh  to  the  necessity  of  our  spirits.  And  in  this  case 
shall  not  the  wisdom  and  authority  of  the  Father  judge  and 
rule,  and  the  duty  of  the  son  oblige  him  to  submit  and 
obe}'  1  And  whereas  'ti*;  added  [and  live  7]  it  implies  we 
are  not,  upon  other  terms,  to  expect  a  livelihood,  to  sub- 
sist and  be  maintained.  A  son  in  a  plentiful,  well-governed 
family,  as  long  as  he  can  be  content  to  keep  to  the  orders 
and  rule  of  the  family,  and  live  under  the  care  of  a  wise 
and  kind  father,  he  may  live  without  care,  or  taking 
thought:  but  if  he  will  ^o  into  rebellion,  he  puts  himself 
into  a  condition  thoughtful  enough.  He  is  brought  to  the 
condition  of  the  prodigal,  that  knew  not  what  shift  to 
make  to  live,  till  he  advises  with  himself,  and  comes  to 


334 


OP  THOUGHTFULNESS  FOR  THE  FUTURE. 


that  wise  resolution  of  returning.  I  will  arise  and  go  to 
my  father — If  we  speak  of  the  life  of  our  spirits,  in  the 
moral  sense,  (which  in  the  natural  sense  we  know  are  al- 
ways immortal,)  it  consists,  as  our  bodily  life  doth,  in  an 
evKpaaia  in  that  holy  order,  and  temperament,  which  de- 
pends upon  our  continued  union  with  God,  and  keeping 
in  with  him  (as  the  bodily  crasis  is  preserved  as  long  as 
the  soul  holds  it  united  with  itself)  A  holy  rectitude, 
composure,  and  tranquillity  is  our  life,  carries  with  it  a 
lively  sprightly  vigour.  To  be  spiritually  minded  is  life 
and  peace,  Rom.  viii.  6.  But  if  we  refuse  to  submit  to  the 
order  of  God,  and  offer  to  break  ourselves  otT  from  him, 
this  hath  a  deadly  tendency.  It  tends  to  dissolve  the 
whole  frame,  and  would  end  in  death  if  sovereign  victori- 
ous grace  did  not  prevent.  To  be  sure  an  attempt  to  rebel 
gradually  discomposes  our  whole  soul,  and  brings  in  a 
crowd  of  thoughts  that  will  be  as  uncomfortable  to  our- 
selves, as  they  are  undutiful  towards  God  ;  and  conse- 
quently impair  and  enfeeble  life  ;  which  our  Saviour  im- 
plies to  consist  in  a  good,  healthy,  comfortable,  internal 
habit  of  mind  and  spirit,  when  he  denies  it  to  stand  in  ex- 
ternals. A  man's  life  consists  not  in  the  abundance  of  the 
things  which  he  possesses,  Luke  xii.  15.  All  which  in- 
ward composure  and  tranquillity  depend  upon  our  willing 
submitting  to  be  governed.  What  a  blessed  repose  and 
rest !  how  pleasant  a  vacancy  of  diseasing  vexatious 
thoughts  doth  that  soul  enjoy  that  hath  resigned  itself,  and 
gives  a  constant  unintermitted  consent  to  the  Divine  go- 
vernment !  when  it  is  an  agreed,  undisputed  thing,  that 
God  shall  always  lead  and  prescribe,  and  it  follow  and  obey ! 

Some  heathens  have  given  us  documents  about  follow- 
ing God,  that  might  both  instruct  and  shame  us  at  once. 
It  would  save  us  many  a  vain  and  troublesome  range,  and 
excursion  of  mind  and  thoughts,  could  we  once  learn  con- 
stantly to  do  so.  If  upon  a  journey,  in  an  intricate  way 
full  of  various  turnings  and  windings,  a  man  have  a  good 
and  sure  guide  before  him;  as  long  as  he  Ibllows  he  needs 
not  be  thoughtful,  or  make  trials  here  and  there.  But  if 
he  will  outrun  his  guide,  and  take  this  or  that  bye-way  be- 
cause it  seems  pleasant,  he  puts  himself  to  the  needless 
labour  of  coming  so  far  back,  unless  he  will  err  continu- 
ally. As  long  as  we  are  content  that  God  govern  the  world 
and  us,  all  is  well. 

Sixthly,  All  such  thoughtfulness  is  undue  as  proceeds 
from  a  dislike  of  God's  former  methods,  in  what  he  hath 
heretofore  done  ;  when,  because  things  have  not  gone  so 
as  to  please  us  formerly,  therefore  we  are  thoughtful  and 
afraid  they  may  as  little  please  us  hereafter.  Here  the 
peccant  cause  is  an  aptness  to  censure  and  correct  Provi- 
dence ;  as  they,  Mai.  ii.  17.  Where  is  the  God  of  judg- 
ment ?  (we  may  reckon  it  a  branch  from  that  former  root, 
an  unsubjeci  spirit,  only  shooting  backward:)  a  disposition 
to  find  fault  with  the  paths  God  hath  taken,  as  if  he  had 
made  some  wrong  steps,  or  in  this  or  that  instance  had 
mistaken  his  way.  But  he  that  reproveth  God,  let  him 
answer  it.  Job  xl.  2.  Men  are  apt  to  fancy  that  things 
might  have  been  better  so  or  so.  Hereupon  how  do 
thoughts  flutter  and  fly  out  to  futurity !  "  What  if  he 
should  do  to-morrow,  as  he  did  yesterday ;  in  future,  as 
in  former  time ;  what  a  world  should  we  have  of  it  1" 
There  had  been  some  rough  unpleasant  passages  even  to 
Moses  himself  in  the  course  of  God's  dispensation  towards 
Israel,  while  they  were  under  his  conduct.  BiU  in  the  re- 
view of  all,  when  he  was  now  to  leave  them,  how  calm 
and  pacale  is  his  spirit !  When  in  that  most  seraphic 
valedictory  song  of  his,  (Deut.  xxxii.)  his  sentence  upon 
the  whole  matter  is,  His  works  are  perfect,  for  all  his  ways 
are  judgment,  v.  4.  Judgment  is  (with  us  who  must 
argue  and  debate  things  before  we  determine)  the  most 
exquisite  reason,  or  rather  the  perfection  and  final  result 
of  many  foregoing  reasonings.  So  that  Moses's  testimony 
concerning  all  God's  ways  is,  that  they  were  always  chosen 
with  that  exact  judgment,  as  if  he  had  long  reasoned  with 
himself  concerning  every  step  he  took;  that  certainly  he 
had  a  very  good  reason  for  whatever  he  did,  all  as  perfectly 
seen  by  him  at  one  view,  as  if  (like  us)  he  considered, long, 
before  he  judged  what  was  to  be  done. 

Could  we  once  learn  to  sing  tuneably  the  song  of  Moses 
and  the  Lamb,  Great  and  marvellous  are  thy  works,  O 
Lord  God  Almighty,  just  and  true  are  all  thy  ways,  O 


King  of  saints ;  to  like  well  all  his  former  methods,  to 
admire  the  amiablene.ss  and  beauty  of  Providence  in 
every  thing,  or  generally  to  approve  and  applaud  all  things 
he  hitherto  hath  done;  to  account  he  hath  ever  gone  the 
best  way  that  could  have  been  gone,  in  all  that  hath  past; 
we  should  never  have  dubious  thoughts  about  what  he 
will  do  hereafter.  And  this  is  no  more  than  what  the 
truth  of  the  matter  challenges  from  us,  to  esteem  he  hath 
some  valuable  reason  for  eveiy  thing  he  hath  done.  For 
sometimes,  we  can  see  the  reason,  and  are  to  judge  so  ex- 
plicitly upon  what  we  see.  And  when  we  cannot,  'lis 
highly  reasonable  it  should  be  with  us  the  matter  of  an 
implicit  belief  that  so  it  is.  For  though  to  pretend  to  pay 
that  observance  to  fallible  man,  must  argue  either  insin- 
cerity, or  folly ;  the  known  perfection  of  the  nature  of 
God,  makes  it  not  only  safe,  but  our  duty,  to  hold  always 
that  peremptory  fixed  conclusion  concerning  all  his  dis- 
pensations. Indeed  concerning  some  men  of  known  re- 
puted wiadom,  it  is  not  only  mannerly  but  prudent,  to 
account  they  may  see  good  reason  for  some  doubtful  ac- 
tions of  theirs,  when  we  cannot  be  sure  they  do.  Much 
more  may  we  confidently  conclude  that  God  ever  doth  and 
must  do  so.  It  is  not  a  blind  obsequiousness,  but  a  mani- 
fest duty,  which  the  plain  reason  of  the  thing  exacts  from 
us.  And  he  justly  takes  himself  afl^ronted,  and  counts  it 
an  impious  insolence,  when  things  look  not  well  to  our 
judgments,  then  lo  question  his,  as  he  complains  in  that 
mentioned  place,  Mai.  ii.  17.  Ye  have  wearied  me  with 
your  words,  yet  ye  say.  Wherein  have  we  wearied  thee  1 
In  that  ye  say.  Every  one  that  doth  evil  is  good  in  the 
sight  of  the  Lord,  and  he  delighfeth  in  them,  and  where 
is  the  God  of  judgment  1  But  how  free  is  that  happy  soul 
from  sinful,  anxious  thoughts,  with  whom  that  conclusion 
neither  is  notionally  denied,  ncr  doth  obtain  merely  as  a 
notion,  but  is  a  settled  practical  and  vital  principle,  He 
hath  done  all  things  well. 

Seventhly,  Such  as  proceeds  from  an  over-addictedness 
to  this  world,  and  little  relish  of  the  things  of  the  world 
to  come.  All  that  ariseth  from  a  terrene  mind,  that 
savours  not  heavenly  things.  The  heart  is  the  fountain  of 
thoughts.  From  thence  they  arise,  and  receive  their  distin- 
guishing tincture.  They  are  as  the  temper  of  the  heart  i.s. 
If  that  be  evil,  thence  are  evil  thoughts;  (Matt.  xv.  19.)  if  it 
be  earthly,  they  run  upon  earthly  things,  and  savour  both  of 
it,  and  the  things  they  are  taken  up  about.  This  was  the 
case  of  the  disciples.  Matt.  xvi.  22,  23.  When  our 
Saviour  had,  immediately  before,  inquired  the  common 
opinion  concerning  him,  and  approved  theirs,  and  con- 
firmed them  in  it,  that  he  was  Christ  the  Son  of  the  living 
God  ;  they  draw  all  to  the  favouring  the  too  carnal  ima- 
gination and  inclination  of  their  own  terrene  hearts.  They 
think  he  cannot  want  power,  being  the  Son  of  the  living 
God,  to  do  great  things  in  the  world,  and  make  them  great 
men.  And  reckon  his  love  and  kindness  to  them  must 
engage  the  Divine  power  which  they  saw  was  with  him 
for  these  purposes.  And  'tis  likely  when  he  directs  his 
speech  to  Peter,  and  speaks  of  giving  him  the  keys,  which 
he  might  know  had  heretofore  been  the  insignia  of  great 
authority  in  a  prince's  court,  he  understood  all  of  some 
secular  greatness ;  and  that  there  were  dignities  of  the  like 
kind,  which  the  rest  might  proportionably  share  in  ;  as  it 
appears  others  of  them  were  not  without  such  expectations, 
when  elsewhere  they  become  petitioners  to  sit  at  his  right 
and  left  hand  in  his  kingdom  (the  places  or  thrones  of  those 
phylarchs,  or  princes  of  tribes,  that  sat  next  to  the  royal 
throne.)  Now  hereupon  when  our  Saviour  tells  them 
what  was  first  coming,  and  was  nearer  at  hand,  that  he 
mu.*t  be  taken  from  them,  suflTer  many  things,  be  deliver- 
ed over  unto  death,  &c.  Peter  very  gravely  takes  on  him 
to  rebuke  him,  Master,  favour  thyself,  this  shall  not  be 
unto  thee  ;  no,  by  no  means!  Full  of  thoughts,  no  doubt, 
his  mind  was  at  what  was  said.  And  whence  did  they 
proceed  but  from  a  terrene  spirit  1  and  that  the  notion  of 
worldly  dignity  had  formed  his  mind,  and  made  it  intent 
upon  a  secular  kingdom.  It  was  not  abstractly  his  care 
for  Christ  himself  he  was  so  much  troubled  at;  as  what 
would  become  of  his  own  great  designs  and  hopes.  There- 
fore our  Saviour  calls  him  Satan,  the  name  of  that  arch 
enemy,  the  usurping  God  of  this  world,  who  had  as  yet 
too  much  power  over  him,  and  tells  him,  "  Thou  savourest 


OF  THOUGHTFULNESS  FOR  THE'FUTURE. 


335 


not  the  things  that  be  of  God,  but  the  things  that  be  of  men," 
q.  d.  a  Satanical  spirit  hath  posisessed  ihee,  get  thee  behind 
me.  And  so  seeks  to  repress  that  unsavory  steam  of  fuli- 
gmous  earth-sprung  thoughts,  which  he  perceived  arose 
in  his  mind. 

It  were  a  great  felicity  to  be  able  to  pass  through  this 
present  state  with  that  temper  of  mind  as  not  to  be  liable 
to  vexatious  disappointments.  And  whereas  the  things 
that  compose  and  make  up  this  state  are  both  little  and 
uncertain,  so  that  we  may  as  well  be  disappointed  in  ha- 
ving as  in  not  having  them;  our  way  were,  here,  not  to 
expect,  but  to  have  our  minds  taken  up  with  the  things 
that  are  both  sure  and  great,  that  is,  heavenly,  eternal 
things;  where  we  are  liable  to  disappointment  neither 
way.  For  these  are  things  that  we  may  upon  serious  dili- 
gent seeking  both  most  surely  obtain  and  possess,  and 
most  .satisfyingly  enjoy.  And  the  more  our  minds  are 
employed  this  way,  the  less  will  they  incline  the  other. 
As  no  man  that  hath  tasted  old  wine  presently  desireth 
new,  for  he  saith  the  old  is  better.  The  foretastes  of  heaven 
are  mortifying  towards  all  terrene  things.  No  one  that  looks 
over  that  11th  to  the  Hebrews  would  think  those  worthies, 
those  great  heroes  there  reckoned  up,  troubled  themselves 
much  with  thoughts  of  what  they  were  to  enjoy  or  suffer 
in  this  world.  To  see  at  what  rate  they  lived,  and  acted, 
it  is  easy  to  collect  they  were  not  much  concerned  about 
temporary  futurities.  Whence  was  it  *?  They  lived  by  that 
faith  that  was  the  substance  of  things  hoped  for,  and  the 
evidence  of  things  not  seen,  that  exalted,  raised,  and  re- 
lined  their  spirits,  and  carried  them  above  an  empty,  un- 
satisfying, vain  world.     And  again, 

Eighthly  (which  is  most  conjunct  with  this  last,)  All  such 
thoughtfuiness  is  forbidden  as  proceeds  from  want  of  self- 
denial,  patience,  and  preparedness  for  a  suffering  slate.  A 
heart  fortified  and  well  postured  for  suffering,  is  no  suscep- 
tible subject  of  those  ill  impressions.  They  fall  into  weak 
minds,  lender,  soft,  and  delicate,  that  reckon  themselves 
created,  and  embodied  in  flesh,  only  to  taste  and  enjoy  sensi- 
ble delights  ;  and  that  they  came  into  this  world  to  be  en- 
tertained, and  divert  themselves  with  its  still  fresh  and  va- 
ricrtis  rarities.  We  are  deeply  thoughtful  because  we  cannot 
deny  ourselves  and  bear  the  cross;  and  have  not  learned 
to  endure  hard.ships,  as  good  soldiers  of  Christ  Jesus.  Our 
shoulders  are  not  )'-et  fitted  to  their  burthen.  Some  perhaps 
think  themselves  too  considerable,  and  persons  of  too  great 
value  to  be  sufferers.  I  am  too  good,  my  rank  too  high,  my 
circumstances  too  little  vulgar.  Hence,  contempt ,  disgrace, 
and  other  more  sensibh^  pinching  hardships  are  reckoned 
unsuitable  for  them,  and  only  to  be  endured  by  persons  of 
lower  quality;  so  that  the  very  thoughts  of  suffering  are 
themselves  unsufferable.  Whereupon,  when  the  exigency 
of  the  case  urges,  and  they  can  no  way  decline,  they  can- 
not but  think  strange  of  the  fiery  trial,  and  count  a  strange 
thing  is  happened  to  them.  The  matter  was  very  unfa- 
miliar unto  their  thoughts,  and  they  are  as  heifers  wholly 
unaccustomed  to  this  j^oke.  And  now,  upon  the  near  pros- 
pect of  so  frightful  a  spectacle  as  an  unavoidable  suffering, 
a  mighty  resistless  torrent  of  most  turbid  thoughts  breaks 
in  upon  them  at  once.  And  they  are  (as  a  surprised  camp) 
all  in  confusion:  sorrowful,  fearful,  discontcntful,  repi- 
ning, amazed  thoughts  do  even  overwhelm  and  deluge 
their  .souls.  And  all  these  thoughts  do  even  proceed  from 
want  of  thinking.  They  think  too  much  now,  because  be- 
fore they  thought  too  little.  Whereas  did  we  labour  by 
degree  to  frame  our  spirits  to  it,  to  reconcile  our  minds  to 
a  suffering  state,  (as  they  do  horses  intended  for  war,  by  a 
drum  beaten  under  their  nose,  a  pistol  discharged  or  trum- 
pet sounded  at  their  very  ear,)  did  we  inure  ourselves 
much  to  think  of  suffering,  but  yet  to  think  little  and  di- 
minishingly  of  it,  and  little  of  oiirselves,  who  may  be  the 
sufferers;  I  am  (sure)  not  better  than  those  that  have  suf- 
fered before  me  in  former  times,  such  as  "  of  whom  the 
world  was  not  worthy;"  we  should  be  in  a  good  mea.sure 
prepared  for  whatever  can  come,  and  so  not  be  verv 
thoughtful  about  any  thing  that  shall. 

II.  That  thoughtfuiness  is  forbidden  too  which  tends  to 
evil,  such  as  hath  an  evil  tendency. 

1.  Such  as  tends  to  evil  negatively,  that  is,  to  no  good  ; 
all  that  is  to  no  purpose.  For  we  are  apt  when  we  see  things 
go  otherwise  than  we  would  have  them,  to  exercise  our 


contriving  thoughts  as  deeply  as  if  we  were  at  the  head 
of  affairs,  and  had  them  in  our  own  hand  and  power,  and 
could  at  length  turn  the  stream  this  way  or  that.  But  do 
we  not  busy  ourselves  about  matters  all  the  while  wherein 
we  can  do  nothing?  When  things  are  out  of  our  power, 
are  not  of  the  rh  i<{,'  rifitv,  belong  not  to  us,  are  without  our 
reach,  and  we  can  have  no  influence  upon  them  this  way 
or  that,  yet  we  are  prone  over-earnestly  to  concern  our- 
selves. And  as  men  (in  that  bodily  exercise)  w'hen  the 
bowi  is  out  of  their  hands  variously  writhe  and  distort 
their  bodies,  as  if  they  could  govern  its  motion  by  those 
odd  and  ridiculous  motions  of  theirs ;  so  are  we  apt  to 
distort  our  minds  into  uncouth  shapes  and  postures,  to  as 
little  purpose,  more  pernicious,  and  upon  a  true  account 
not  less  ridiculous.  As  our  Saviour  warns  us  to  beware 
of  idle  words,  such  as  can  do  no  work,  (as  the  Greek  im- 
ports,) so  w-e  should  count  it  disallow  ed  us  too,  (for  the 
same  reason,)  to  think  idle  thoughts.  The  thoughtfuiness 
our  Saviour  intends  to  forbid,  you  see  how  he  character- 
izes, such  as  will  not  add  a  cubit,  nor  alter  the  case  one 
way  or  other,  i.  c.  that  is  every  way  useless  to  valuable  or 
good  purposes.  The  thinking  power  is  not  given  us  to  be 
used  in  vain  ;  especially,  whereas  it  might  be  employed 
about  matters  of  great  importance  to  us  at  the  same  time. 
Which  serves  to  introduce  a  further  character  of  undue 
thoughtfuiness,  viz. 

2.  Such  as  tends  to  divert  us  from  our  present  duty. 
Our  minds  are  not  infinite,  and  cannot  comprehend  all 
things  at  once.  We  are  wont  so  to  excuse  our  not  having 
attended  to  what  another  was  saying  to  us,  that  truly  we 
were  thinking  on  somewhat  else.  Which  is  a  good  excuse, 
if  neither  the  person  nor  thing  deserved  more  regard  from 
us.  But  if  what  was  propounded  were  somewhat  we 
ought  to  attend  to,  'tis  plain  we  were  diverted  by  thinking 
on  what,  at  that  time,  we  ought  not.  When  men  are  so 
amused  wuth  their  own  thoughts  that  they  are  put  into  a 
state  of  suspense,  and  interruption  from  the  proper  busi- 
ness of  their  calling,  as  Christians,  or  men,  or  when  their 
thoughts  run  into  confusion,  and  are  lost  as  to  their  pre- 
sent work,  such  are  certainly  forbidden  thoughts:  when 
they  think  of  every  thing  but  what  they  should  think  of 
A  few  passant  thoughts  would  surely  serve  turn  for  what 
is  not  my  business.  I  have  business  of  my  own  that  is 
constant,  and  must  be  minded  at  all  times,  be  they  what 
they  will.  But  when  the  times  generally  do  not  please  us, 
upon  every  less  grateful  emergency  we  overdo  it  in  think- 
ing! 'Tis  rational  and  manly  to  behave  ourselves  in  the 
world  as  those  that  have  a  concern  in  it,  under  the  com- 
mon Ruler  of  it,  and  for  him  ;  and  not  to  be  negligent 
observers  how  things  go  in  reference  to  his  great  and  all- 
comprehending  interest.  But  the  fault  is,  that  our  thoughts 
are  apt  to  be  too  intense,  and  run  into  excess  ;  that  we  crowd 
and  throng  ourselves  with  thoughts,  and  think  too  much  to 
think  well,  consider  what  others  do  or  do  not;  that  we 
allow  no  place  nor  room  for  thoughts  what  we  are  to  dc 
ourselves,  even  in  the  way  of  that  our  constant  dutj', 
which  no  times,  nor  slate  of  things,  can  alter  or  make  dis- 
pensable: i.  e.  to  pray  continually  with  cheerful  trust:  to 
live  in  the  love,  fear,  and  service  of  God;  to  work  out  our 
own  salvation:  to  seek  the  things  that  are  above:  to  go- 
vern and  cultivate  our  own  spirits;  to  keep  our  hearts 
w'ith  all  diligence  :  to  do  all  the  good  we  can  to  others, 
&c.  As  to  these  things  we  stand  astonished,  and  as  men 
that  cannot  find  their  hands.  We  should  endeavour  to  range 
and  methodize  our  thoughts,  to  reduce  them  into  some 
order,  (which  a  crowd  admits  not,)  that  we  may  have  them 
distinctly  applicable  to  the  several  occasions  of  the  human 
and  Christian  life.  And  with  which  useful  order  whatever 
consists  not,  we  should  reckon  is  sinful  and  forbidden. 

3.  Such  as  not  only  confounds,  but  torments  the  mind 
within  itself,  gives  it  inward  torture,  distracts  and  racks  it. 
as  the  word  in  the  tcx'  more  peculiarlv  signifies,  (»foifyitTi ,) 
to  pluck  and  rend  a  thing  in  pieces,  part  from  part,  one 
piece  from  another.  Such  a  thoughtfuiness  as  doth  tear  a 
man's  soul,  and  sever  it  from  itself  There  is  another 
word  of  very  emphatical  import  too  which  is  used  in  for- 
bidding the  same  CA'il,  (Luke  xii.  "29.)  uh  fcrciooi^cat^e,  be 
not  in  suspense,  do  not  hover  as  meteors,  do  not  let  your 
minds  hang  as  in  the  air,  in  apendulous,  uncertain,  unquiet 
posture ;  or  be  not  of  an  inconsistent  mind,  as  a  cniica* 


330 


OF  THOUGHTFULNESS  FOR  THE  FUTURE. 


writer  phrases  itj^  or,  as  we  may  add,  that  agrees  not, 
that  falls  out  and  fights  with  itself,  that  with  its  own  agi- 
tations sets  itself  on  fire,  as  meteors  are  said  to  do. 
Thoughts  there  are  that  prove  as  fire-brands  to  a  man's 
soul,  or  as  darts  and  arrows  to  his  heart,  that  serve  to  no 
other  purpose  but  to  inflame  and  wound  kim.  And  when 
they  are  about  such  things  (those  less-considerable  events 
of  to-morrow)  that  all  this  might  as  well  have  been 
spared,  and  when  we  disquiet  ourselves  in  vain,  it  cannot 
be  without  great  iniquity.  God,  who  hath  greater  domi- 
nion over  us  than  we  have  of  ourselves,  though  he  dis- 
quiet our  spirits  for  great  and  important  ends  ;  put  us  to 
undergo  much  smart  and  torture  in  ourown  minds,  caused 
us  to  be  pricked  to  the  heart,  and  wounded,  in  order  to  our 
cure,  and  hath  appointed  a  state  of  torment  for  the  incu- 
rable ;  yet  he  doth  not  afflict  willingly,  nor  grieve  the 
children  of  men.  'Tis  a  thing  he  wills  not  for  itself 
Those  greater  ends  make  it  necessary,  and  put  it  without 
the  compass  of  an  indifferent  choice.  Much  less  should 
we  choose  our  own  torment,  as  it  were,  for  torment's  sake, 
or  admit  thoughts  which  serve  for  no  other  purpose.  'Tis 
undutiful ;  because  we  are  not  our  own  ;  we  violate  and 
discompose  the  temples  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  where  since 
he  vouchsafes  to  dwell,  we  should  as  much  as  in  us  is 
provide  he  may  have  an  entirely  peaceful  and  undisturbed 
dwelling.  'Tis  unnatural,  because  'tis  done  to  ourselves. 
A  felony  de  se.  Whoever  hated  his  own  flesh  ?  No  man 
cuts  and  wounds  and  mangles  himself,  but  a  madman, 
who  is  then  not  himself,  is  outed  and  divested  of  himself 
He  must  be  another  thing  from  himself,  ere  he  can  do 
such  acts  of  violence  even  to  the  bodily  part.  How  much 
more  valuable,  and  nearer  us,  and  more  ourself,  is  our 
mind  and  spirit !  But  this  is  the  case  in  the  matter  of  in- 
ordinate thoughts  and  care.  We  breed  the  worms  that  gnaw 
and  corrode  our  hearts.  Worms !  yea  the  serpents,  the 
vultures,  the  bears  and  lions.  Our  own  fancies  are  the 
creators  of  what  doth  thus  raven  and  prey  upon  ourselves. 
Our  own  creature  rents  and  devours  us. 

4.  Such  as  excludes  divine  consolation,  so  that  we  can- 
not relish  the  comforts  God  affords  us,  to  make  our  duties 
pleasant,  and  our  afflictions  tolerable ;  or  is  ready  to  afford. 
In  the  multitude  of  my  thoughts  within  me,  thy  comforts 
delight  my  soul,  Psal.  xciv.  19.  Those  thoughts,  if  they 
were  afflicting  and  troublesome,  they  were  not  so  without 
some  due  measure  or  limit,  while  they  did  not  so  fill  the 
whole  soul  as  to  exclude  so  needful  a  mixture.  But  how^ 
intolerably  sinful  a  state  is  it  when  the  soul  is  so  filled, 
and  taken  up,  prepossessed  already,  with  its  own  black- 
thoughts,  that  there  is  no  room  for  better !  And  its  self- 
created  cloud  is  so  thick  and  dark  that  it  resists  the  hea- 
venly beams,  and  admits  them  not  in  the  ordinary  way  to 
enter  and  insinuate.  When  the  disease  defies  the  remedy, 
and  the  soul  refuses  to  be  comforted,  as  Psal.  Ixxvii.  2. 
This  seems  to  have  been  the  Psalmist's  case  ;  not  that  he 
took  up  an  explicit,  formed  resolution  against  being  com- 
forted, but  that  the  present  habit  of  his  mind  and  spirit 
was  such  that  it  did  not  enter  with  him ;  and  that  the  usual 
course  did  not  succeed  in  order  to  it;  for  it  follows,  "I 
thought  on  God  and  was  troubled,"  which  needs  not  to  be 
understood  so,  as  if  the  thoughts  of  God  troubled  him, 
but  though  he  did  think  of  God  he  was  yet  troubled.  The 
thoughts  of  God  were  not  the  cause  of  his  trouble,  but  the 
ineffectual  means  of  his  relief.  Still  he  was  troubled  not- 
withstanding he  thought  of  God,  not  because.  For  you 
see  he  was  otherwise  troubled,  and  says,  "  In  the  day  of 
my  trouble  I  sought  the  Lord."  He  took  the  course  which 
was  wont  not  to  fail,  but  his  mind  was  so  full  of  troublous 
thoughts  before,  that  when  he  remembered  God,  it  proved 
but  a  weak  essay.  The  strength  of  his  soul  was  pre-en- 
gaged the  other  wav,  and  the  stream  was  too  violent  to  be 
checked  by  that  feebler  breath  which  he  now  only  had  to 
oppose  it.  Though  God  can  arbitrarily,  and  often  doth, 
put  forth  that  power  as  to  break  and  scatter  the  cloud, 
and  make  all  clear  up  on  a  sudden;  yet  also,  often,  he 
withholds  in  some  displeasure  that  more  potent  influence, 
and  leaves  things  to  follow,  with  us,  their  own  natural 
cour.se  ;  lets  our  own  sin  correct  us,  and  suffers  us  to  feel 
the  smart  of  our  own  rod.  For  we  should  have  Avithstood 
beginnings,  and  have  been  more  early  in  applying  the 
c  Heiii9iu9. 


remedy  before  things  had  come  to  this  ill  pass.  Because 
we  did  not,  when  we  better  could,  set  ourselves  to  con- 
sider, and  strive  and  pray  effectually,  the  distemper  of  our 
spirits  is  now  grown  to  that  height  that  we  would  and 
cannot.  In  that  great  distress  which  befell  David  at  Zik- 
lag,  when  he  finds  his  goods  rifled,  his  nearest  relatives 
made  captives,  that  city  itself,  the  place  of  his  repose,  the 
solace  of  his  exile,  reduced  to  a  ruinous  heap  ;  his  guard 
his  friends,  the  companions  of  his  flight,  and  partakers  of 
all  his  troubles  and  dangers,  become  his  dangerous  ene- 
mies, for  they  mutiny  and  conspire  against  him,  and 
.speak  of  stoning  him ;  the  common  calamity  imbitters 
their  spirits,  and  they  are  ready  to  fly  upon  him,  as  if  he 
had  done  the  Amalekite's  part,  been  the  common  enemy, 
and  the  author  of  all  that  mischief;  in  this  most  perplexing 
case  he  was  quicker  in  taking  the  proper  course,  imme- 
diately turns  his  thoughts  upwards  while  they  were  flexi- 
ble and  capable  of  being  directed,  and  comforted  himself 
in  the  Lord  his  God.  AH  that  afflicting  thoughtfulness 
which  is  the  consequent  of  our  neglecting  seasonable  en- 
deavours to  keep  our  minds  under  government  and  re- 
straint, while  they  are  yet  governable ;  and  which  here- 
upon renders  the  consolations  of  God  small,  and  tasteless 
to  us,  is  certainly  of  the  prohibited  sort. 

5.  Such  as  tends  to  put  us  on  a  sinful  course  for  the 
avoiding  dangers  that  threaten  us.  When  we  think  of 
sinning  to  day,  lest  we  should  suffer  to-morrow.  If  it  be 
but  one  particular  act  of  sin  by  which  we  would  free  our. 
selves  from  a  present  danger,  or  much  more  if  our  thoughts 
tempt  and  solicit  us  to  a  course  of  apostacy,  which  (Psal. 
Ixxxv.  8.)  is  a  returning  to  folly.  The  thing  now  speaks 
itself,  the  thought  of  foolishness  is  sin,  Prov.  xxiv.  9. 
When  upon  viewing  the  stale  of  affairs  a  man's  thoughts 
shall  suggest  to  him,  I  can  never  be  safe  I  perceive  in  this 
way ;  great  calamities  threaten  the  profession  I  have 
hitherto  been  of.  And  hence  he  begins  to  project  the 
changing  his  religion,  to  meditate  a  revolt.  In  this  case 
deliberasse  est  descivisse.  A  disloyal  thought  hath  in  it  the 
nature  of  the  formed  evil  to  which  it  tends.  Here  is  se- 
minal apostacy.  The  cockatrice  egg,  long  enough  hatch- 
ed, becomes  a  serpent ;  and  therefore  ought  to  be  crushed 
betimes.  A  man's  heart  now  begins  sinfully  to  tempt  him, 
(as  he  is  never  tempted  with  effect,  till  he  be  led  away  by  his 
own  heart  and  enticed,  James  i.  14.)  And  now  is  the  con- 
ception of  that  sin,  which,  being  finished,  is  eventually 
mortal,  and  brings  forth  death,  v.  15. 

6.  Such  as  tends  tmto  visible  dejection  and  despondency, 
such  as  in  the  course  of  our  walking  shall  make  a  show, 
and  express  itself  to  the  discouragement  of  the  friends  of 
religion  or  the  triumph  of  its  enemies.  It  maybe  read  in 
a  man's  countenance  many  times  when  he  is  unduly 
thoughtful.  Cares  furrow  his  face,  and  form  his  deport- 
ments. His  looks,  his  mien,  his  behaviour,  show  a 
thoughtful  sadness. 

Now  when  such  appearances  exceed  our  remaining  con- 
stant cause  of  visible  cheerfulness,  the  thoughtfulness 
whence  they  proceed  cannot  but  be  undue  and  sinful. 
As  when  the  ill  aspect  of  affairs  on  our  interests  clothes 
our  faces  Avith  fear  and  sorrow ;  our  countenances  are 
fallen,  and  speak  our  hearts  sunk  :  so  that  we  even  tell  the 
world  we  despair  of  our  cause  and  our  God.  This,  be- 
sides the  distrust,  which  is  the  internal  evil  .spoken  of 
before,  tends  to  a  very  pernicious  effect;  to  confirm  the 
atheistical  world,  to  give  them  the  day,  to  say  with  them 
the  same  thing,  and  yield  them  the  matter  of  their  impious 
boast.  There  is  no  help  for  them  in  God.  And  all  this, 
when  there  is  a  true  unchangeable  reason  for  the  contrary 
temper  and  deportment.  For  still  that  one  thing  "  the 
Lord  reigns,"  hath  more  in  it  to  fortify  and  strengthen  our 
hearts  and  compose  us  to  cheerfulness,  and  ought  to  sig- 
nify more  with  us  to  this  purpose,  than  all  the  ill  appear- 
ances of  things  in  this  w^orld  can  do  to  our  rational  dejec- 
tion. The  Psalmist  (Psal.  xcvi.  11,  12,  13.)  reckons  all  the 
world  should  ring  of  it,  that  the  whole  creation  should  par- 
lake  from  it  a  diffusive  joy.  Let  the  heavens  rejoice,  and  let 
the  earth  be  glad ;  let  the  sea  roar  and  the  fulness  there- 
of; let  the  field  be  joyful,  and  all  that  is  therein;  then 
shall  all  the  trees  of  the  wood  rejoice  before  the  Lord, 
for   he    Cometh,    he    cometh    to   judge    the   earth,  &c. 


OP  THOUGHTFULNESS  FOR  THE  FUTURE. 


33 


He  accounts  all  the  universe  should  even  be  clothed  here- 
upon with  a  smiling  verdure.  And  what?  are  we  only  to 
except  ourselves,  and  be  an  anomalous  sort  of  creatures? 
shall  we  not  partake  in  that  common  dutiful  joy,  and  fall 
into  concert  with  the  adoring  loyal  chorus  1  Will  we  cut 
ourselves  off  from  this  gladsome  obsequious  throng?  And 
what  should  put  a  pleasant  face  and  aspect  upon  the  whole 
world,  shall  it  only  leave  our  faces  covered  with  clouds, 
and  a  mournful  sadness  ? 

Briefly,  that  we  may  sum  up  the  evil  of  this  prohibited 
thoughtfulness,  as  it  is  to  be  estimated  from  its  ill  effects 
to  which  it  lends,  whatsoever,  in  that  kind,  hath  a  tendency 
either  dishonourable  and  injurious  to  God,  or  hurtful  to 
ourselves,  we  are  to  reckon  into  this  class,  and  count  it 
forbidden  us.  Wherefore  it  remains  that  we  go  on  the 
other  part  of  the  intended  discourse,  viz. 

II.  The  enforcement  of  the  prohibition.  For  which 
purpose  we  shall  take  into  consideration  the  following  part 
of  the  verse;  "  To-morrow  shall  take  thought  for  the 
things  of  itself:  sufficient  for  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof." 
The  evil  forbidden  is  carefulness  about  the  future,  as  we 
read  it,  taking  thought,  which  is  a  more  general  expres- 
sion than  the  Greek  word  doth  amount  to.  All  thinking 
is  not  caring.  This  is  one  special  sort  of  thoughis  ihat  is 
here  forbidden,  careful  thoughts,  and  one  special  sort  of 
care,  not  about  duty  but  event,  and  about  event  wherein  it 
doth  not  depend  upon  our  duty,  that  is,  considered  ab- 
stractly from  it ;  and  so  the  thing  intended  is,  tliat  doing 
all  that  lies  within  the  compass  of  our  duty  to  promote  any 
good  event,  or  to  hinder  bad,  that  then  we  should  cease 
from  solicitude  about  the  success.  From  such  solicitude, 
most  especially,  as  shall  be  either  distrustful,  or  disquiet- 
ing, or  more  generally,  that  shall  be,  any  wa)',  either  in- 
jurious to  God,  or  prejudicial  to  ourselves. 

Now  for  the  pressing  of  this  matter  upon  our  practice, 
these  subjoined  words  may  be  apprehended  to  carry,  either 
but  one  and  the  same  argument,  in  both  the  clauses;  or 
else  two  distinct  ones ;  according  as  the  former  shall  be 
diversely  understood.     For, 

1.  These  words,  "  To-morrow  shall  take  care  for  the 
things  of  itself,"  are  understood  by  some  to  carry  but  this 
sense  with  them,  q.  d.  "  To-morrow  will  bring  its  own  cares 
with  it,  and  those  perhaps  afflicting  enough,  and  which  will 
give  you  sufficient  trouble  when  the  day  comes.  To-mor- 
row will  oblige  you  to  be  carefiil  about  the  things  thereof, 
and  find  you  business  and  molestation  enough."  Which 
is  but  the  same  thing  in  sense  with  what  is  imported  in  the 
following  words :  "  sufficient  for  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof." 

2.  Or  else  those  former  words  may  be  understood  thus, — 
"  To-morrow  shall  take  care  for  the  things  of  itself;"  i.  e. 
"  to-morrow  and  the  things  of  to-morrow  shall  be  suffi- 
ciently cared  for  otherwise,  without  your  previous  care. 
There  is  one  that  can  do  it  sufficiently,  do  not  you  imper- 
tiently  and  to  no  purpose  concern  yourselves."  It  is  im- 
plied there  is  some  one  else  to  take  that  care,  who.se  proper 
business  it  is.  The  great  God  himself  is  meant,  though 
that  is  not  expressly  said,  the  design  being  but  to  exclude 
us;  and  to  say  who  should  not  take  care,  not  who  should. 
That  is  therefore  left  at  large,  and  expres.sed  with  that  in- 
differency,  as  if  it  were  intended  to  signify  to  us,  that  it 
was  no  matter  who  took  care  so  we  did  not.  That  we 
should  rather  leave  it  to  the  morrow  to  put  on  a  person  and 
take  care,  than  be  ourselves  concerned ;  that  whose  part 
soever  it  is,  it  was  none  of  ours.  A  form  of  speech  not 
unexampled  elsewhere  in  Scripture.  "  Let  the  dead  bury 
their  dead,"  only  follow  thou  me  ;  q.  d.  sure  somebody  will 
perform  that  part.  It  will  be  done  by  one  or  other,  more 
properly  than  by  you,  who  have  devoted  yourself  to  me, 
and  are  become  a  sacred  person  (not  permitted  b)^  the  law 
to  meddle  with  a  dead  body,  as  a  learned  person  glosses 
upon  that  place.)  And,  in  common  speech,  especially  of 
superiors  to  inferiors,  such  anfanaclases  (as  the  figure  is 
called)  are  frequent.  And  the  same  word  used  over  again, 
when  in  the  repetition  (though  here  it  be  otherwise)  we  in- 
tend not  any  certain  sense ;  more  than  that  we  would,  with 
the  more  smartness  and  pungency,  repre.ss  an  inclination 
we  observe  in  them  to  somewhat  we  would  not  have  them 
do,  or  more  earnestly  press  the  thing  we  would  have  done. 
So  that  we  need  not  in  that  expression  trouble  ourselves  to 
imagine  any  such  mystical  meaning,  as,  let  them  that  are 


dead  in  sin  hury  them  that  are  dead  for  sin  ;  or  that  it  m 
tends  more,  tlian,be  not  concerned  about  the  matter.  And 
to  show  the  absoluteness  of  the  command,  it  is  given  in  that 
form  of  words  that  it  might  be  understood  he  should  not 
concern  himself  about  that  business  in  any  case  whatso- 
ever, q.  d.  suppose,  what  is  not  likely,  that  there  were  none 
else  that  Avould  take  care ;  or  none  but  the  dead  to  bury 
the  dead  ;  yet  know,  that  at  this  lime  I  have  somewhat  else 
to  do  for  you ;  when  it  is  in  the  meantime  tacitly  supposed, 
and  concealed,  that  the  matter  might  well  enough  be  left 
to  the  care  of  others.  So  here,  while  it  is  silently  intimated 
that  the  things  of  the  morrowshall  be  otherwise  sufficiently 
cared  for,  by  that  wise  and  mighty  Providence  that  go- 
verns all  things,  and  runs  through  all  time,  yet  our  intem- 
perate solicitude  is,  in  the  meantime,  so  absolutely  forbid- 
den, that  we  are  not  to  be  allowed  in  it,  though  there  were 
none,  but  the  feigned  person  of  to-morrow,  to  take  care  for 
what  should  then  occur.  Yet  the  main  stress  is  laid  upon 
the  concealed  intimation  all  the  while,  as  a  thing  whereof 
he  was  secure,  and  would  have  his  disciples  be  too,  that 
the  business  of  providing  for  the  morrow  would  be  done 
sufficiently  without  them.  And  now  according  to  this 
sense  of  those  words,  there  are  two  distinct  considerations, 
contained  in  this  latter  part  of  the  verse,  both  which  we 
shall  severally  make  use  of,  for  the  purpose  for  which  ihey 
are  propounded  by  our  Saviour,  viz.  the  pressing  of  what 
he  had  enjoined  in  the  former  part  of  the  verse.  And  we 
may  thus  distinctly  entitle  them,  the  unprofitableness  and 
the  hurtfulness  of  this  forbidden  care. 

1.  The  former  may  well  bear  that  title;  the  inutility  or 
unprofitableness  of  our  care.  To-morrow  shall  lake  care 
for  the  things  of  itself,  i.  e.  they  shall  be  sufficiently  cared 
for  without  you.  Now  under  that  head  of  unprofitable- 
ness, we  may  conceive  these  two  things  to  be  comprehend- 
ed :  viz.  I.  That  we  do  not  need  to  attempt  any  thing  :  II. 
That  we  can  effect  nothing  by  that  prohibited  care  of  ours: 
that  we  neither  need,  nor  (to  any  purpose)  can,  concern 
ourselves  about  such  matters. 

I.  That  we  do  not  need.  They  are  under  the  direction 
of  his  providence  who  can  manage  them  well  enough 
himself.  And  unto  this  head  several  things  do  belong, 
which  if  they  be  distinctly  considered,  will  both  discover 
and  highly  aggravate  that  offence  of  immoderate  thought- 
fulness.     As, 

1.  That,  through  that  needless  care  of  ours,  M-e  shall 
but  neglect  (as  was  formerly  said)  our  most  constant  in- 
dispensable duty.  That  will  not  be  done  as  it  ought.  We 
should  study  to  be  quiet,  and  do  our  own  busines,*,  as  is 
elsewhere  enjoined,  upon  another  account.  We  have  a 
duty  incumbent,  which,  what  it  is  we  are  told,  in  the  ge- 
neral, and  at  the  same  time  encouraged  against  interrupt- 
ing care,  Psal.  xxxvii.  3.  Trust  in  the  Lord  and  do  good, 
and  you  shall  dwell  in  the  land,  and  verily  yon  shall  be 
fed.  Some  perhaps  are  apt  to  have  many  a  careful  thought 
of  this  sort.  "  Alas  !  We  are  afraid  the  condition  of  the 
land  may  be  such  as  we  shall  not  be  able  to  live  in  it." 
No,  ('tis  said,)  never  trouble  your  thoughts  about  that. 
Only  neglect  not  your  own  part.  Trust  in  the  Lord,  and 
do  good,  and  'twill  be  well  enough.  You  shall  dM-ell  in 
the  land,  and  verily  you  shall  be  fed. 

2.  We  shall  make  ourselves  busy-bodies  in  the  matters 
of  another.  (1  Pet.  iv.  15.)  as  it  were,  play  the  bishops  in 
another's  diocese,  as  the  word  there  imports.  We  >liall 
but  be  over-officious,  and  undecenily  pragmatical  in  inter- 
meddling. Our  great  care  should  be,  when  we  count  upon 
suffering,  that  we  may  not  su.ffer  indecently,  or  with  dis- 
reputation, (in  their  account  who  are  fittest  to  judge,)  much 
less  injuriously  to  a  good  cause,  and  a  good  conscience. 
Which  we  cannot  fail  to  do,  if  we  suffer  out  of  our  own 
place  and  station,  and  having  intruded  ourselves  into  the 
affairs  and  concerns  that  belong  to  the  n.anagemeni  o( 
another  hand.     And, 

3.  It  is  to  he  considered  who  it  is  that  we  shall  affront, 
and  whose  province  we  invaile  in  so  doing,  rjc.  of  one 
that  can  well  enough  manage  all  the  affairs  of  to-morrow, 
and  of  all  future  time,  the  Lord  of  all  time,  in  whose  hands 
all  our  limes  are,  and  all  time.  A  province  in  the  adminLs- 
tration,  whereof  there  is  no  danger  of  defect  or  error.  And, 

4.  It  is  to  be  considered  that  we  shall  do  so,  not  only 
without  a  call,  but  against  a  prohibition.     It  is  reckoned, 


338 


OF  THOUGHTFULNESS  FOR  THE  FUTURE. 


among  men,  a  rudeness,  to  intrude  into  the  afiairs  of  ano- 
ther uninvited  ;  how  much  more  if  forbidden  1  It  gives 
distaste  and  otfence ;  and  the  reason  is  plain,  for  it  implies 
a  supposition  of  their  weakness,  and  that  they  are  not  able 
to  manage  their  own  affairs  themselves.  And  as  we  there- 
by cast  contempt  upon  another,  so,  at  the  same  time,  we 
unduly  exalt  and  magnify  ourselves,  as  if  we  understood 
better.  Such  a  comparison  cannot  but  be  thought  odious. 
But  now  t  ke  this  as  an  addition  to  the  former  considera- 
tion, and  the  matter  rises  high,  and  carries  the  same  inti- 
mation with  it  in  reference  to  the  All-wise  and  Almighty 
God.  No,  is  not  he  likely  to  bring  matters  to  any  good 
pass  without  us  1  And  are  we  therefore  so  concernedly 
looking  over  the  shoulder,  thrusting  in  our  eye,  and  send- 
ing forlh  our  cares  to  run  and  range  into  his  affairs  and 
business  1  This  is  a  wearisome  impertinence.  A  prudent 
man  would  not  endure  it. 

Nor  are  tho.se  words  unapplicable  to  this  purpose, "  Seems 
it  a  small  thing  to  }'ou  to  weary  men,  but  you  will  weary 
my  God  also  V  Isa.  vii.  13.  They  were  spoken  to  a  pur- 
pose not  unlike.  For  observe  the  occasion.  There  were 
al  that  time  the  two  kings  with  their  combined  power,  of 
Syria  and  Israel,  come  up  against  Jerusalem  and  the  house 
of  David,  meaning  the  king  Ahaz.  It  is  said  hereupon  of 
him,  and  the  people  with  him,  "  Their  hearts  were  moved 
as  the  trees  of  the  wood  are  moved  with  the  wind."  Full 
of  thoughts,  of  cares,  and  fears,  they  were,  no  doubt.  O  ! 
what  will  become  of  this  matter  1  what  will  be  the  event  1 
And  the  prophet  comes  with  a  comfortable  message  to 
them  from  God.  But  their  hearts  were  so  prepossessed 
with  their  own  fears,  it  signifies  nothing.  A  confirmation 
is  offered  and  refused.  The  pretence  was,  he  would  not 
tempt  God  by  asking  a  sign  even  when  he  was  bidden.  A 
hypocritical  pretence,  made  only  to  cover  a  latent  distrust. 
Thereupon,  saith  the  prophet,  is  it  a  small  thing  to  weary 
men,  (meaning  himself  who  was  but  the  messenger,)  but 
that  you  will  weary  my  God  also  1  i.  e.  who  sent  him  ;  and 
who  went  not  about  to  put  the  affrighted  prince,  and  his 
people,  upon  any  thing,  but  to  trust  him  and  be  quiet :  no 
agitation  of  whose  minds  was  required  to  their  safety. 
They  are  not  directed,  as  if  all  lay  upon  them,  to  hold  a 
council,  and  contrive  themselves  (at  this  time)  the  means 
of  their  preservation.  Nor  should  they,  with  disturbed 
minds.  Neither  are  we  (in  the  sense  that  hath  been  given) 
required  or  allowed  to  use  our  care  in  reference  to  the 
things  of  to-morrow.  The  stress  of  affairs  lies  not  upon 
us.  The  events  that  belong  to  to-morrow,  or  the  future 
time,  whatever  it  be,  will  be  brought  about,  whether  we 
so  care  or  care  not.  Our  anxiety  is  needless  in  the  case. 
"What  will  not  to-morrow  come,  and  carry  all  its  events  in 
it  that  belong  to  it,  without  usl  will  not  the  heavens  roll 
without  us  l  and  the  sun  rise  and  set  1  the  evening  come 
and  also  the  morn  1  the  days,  and  all  that  belong  to  the 
several  days  of  succeeding  time  1  will  not  all  be  brought 
about  without  our  care  think  wel  how  was  it  before  we 
were  born  ? 

2.  There  is  also  comprehended  besides,  under  that  head 
of  unprofitableness,  our  impotency  to  effect  any  thing  by 
our  care.  As  we  do  not  need,  so  nor  are  we  able.  That 
is  unprofitable,  which  will  not  serve  our  turn,  nor  do  our 
business.  This  forbidden  care  leaves  things  but  as  we 
found  them.  'Tis  true,  that  may  be  some  way  useful  that 
is  not  absolutely  necessary,  but  if  besides  that  no  necessity, 
there  be  also  an  absolute  usefulness,  the  argument  is 
much  stronger.  All  this  prohibited  care  of  ours  cannot 
contribute  anything  to  the  hindering  of  bad  events  or  pro- 
moting of  good.  And  that  neither  as  to  our  own  private 
affairs,  nor  (much  less)  as  to  those  that  are  of  public  con- 
cernment. 

1.  Not  as  to  our  own  private  affairs,  which  the  series  of 
our  Saviour's  discourse  hath  directed  reference  unto,  what 
we  shall  eat,  and  drink,  and  how  be  clothed ;  how  to  main- 
tain and  support  life,  and  add  to  our  days  and  the  comfort 
of  them.  We  cannot  add  ('tis  said)  so  much  as  one  cubit 
{v.  '21.)  to  our  stature.  So  we  read  that  word,  which  per- 
haps (by  the  way)  as  a  noted  expositor  observes,  may  better 
be  read  age.  The  word  signifies  both.  It  would  seem  in- 
deed something  an  enormous  addition  to  have  a  cubit  add- 

d  Tlie  oollcclion  of  Arabian  proverbs  illustrated  by  the  notes  of  Jos.  Scalig. 
and  Erpen. 


ed  to  the  stature  of  a  grown  man,  but  the  same  word 
(//XiKi'a)  signifying  also  age,  that  seems  here  the  fitter  trans- 
lation :  q.  d.  "  "Which  of  you  by  taking  thought  can  make 
the  least  addition  to  his  own  time  1"  Nor  is  it  unusual  to 
speak  of  measures  of  that  kind,  in  relation  to  time,  as  a 
span,  a  hand-breadth,  and  the  like;  and  so  is  cubit  as  ca- 
pable of  the  same  application.  Our  anxiety  can  neither 
add  more  or  less. 

2.  Much  less  can  it  influence  the  common  and  public 
affairs.  Our  solicitude,  what  will  become  of  these  things  1 
how  shall  the  Christian  or  proteslant  interest  subsist  1 
much  more  how  shall  it  ever  come  to  thrive  and  prosper 
in  the  world  1  so  low,  so  depressed  and  despised  as  it  may 
seem,  how  will  it  be  -with  it  to-morrow,  or  hereafter  in 
future  time  1  what  doth  it  contribute  1  I  speak  not  to  the 
exclusion  of  prayer,  nor  of  a  dutiful,  affectionate  concern- 
edness,  that  excludes  not  a  cheerful,  submissive  trust ;  and 
what  will  more  than  this  avail  1  If  we  add  more,  will  that 
addition  mend  the  matter  ;  or  do  we  indeed  think,  when 
the  doing  of  our  duty  prevails  not,  that  our  anxiety  and 
care  beyond  our  duty  shall.  Can  that  change  times  and 
seasons,  and  mend  the  state  of  things  to-morrow  or  the 
next  day  1  Will  to-raorrow  become,  by  means  of  it,  a  fairer 
or  a  calmer  day,  or  be  without  it  a  more  stormy  one  1  We 
might  as  well  think  by  our  care  to  order  the  celestial  mo- 
tions, to  govern  the  tides,  and  retard  or  hasten  the  ebbs  and 
floods ;  or  by  our  breath  check  and  countermand  the  course 
of  the  greatest  rivers.  We,  indeed,  and  all  things  that 
time  contains  and  measures,  are  carried  as  in  a  swift 
stream,  or  on  rapid  floods.  And  a  man  at  sea  might  as 
well  attempt,  by  thrusting  or  pulling  the  sides  of  the  ship 
that  carries  him,  to  hasten  or  slacken  its  motion,  as  we  by 
our  vexatious  care  to  check  or  alter  the  motions  of  Provi- 
dence this  way  or  that.  Do  we  think  to  posture  things 
otherwise  than  God  hath  done  1  Will  we  move  the  earth 
from  its  centre  1  Where  will  we  find  another  earth  where- 
on to  set  our  foot  1 

2.  We  have  to  consider  not  only  the  unprofitableness 
but  hurtfulness  of  this  forbidden  care.  It  not  only  doth 
no  good,  but  it  is  sure  to  do  us  a  great  deal  of  harm.  That 
is  the  consideration  intimated  in  the  latter  words,  "suffi- 
cient for  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof."  We  shall  but  accu- 
mulate evils  unto  ourselves  by  it  to  no  purpose.  Our  un- 
due solicitude  cannot  add  to  our  time  or  comforts,  (as  was 
said,)  but  it  may  much  diminish  and  detract  from  them. 
Whereas  every  several  day  that  passeth  may  have  enough 
in  it,  and  be  of  itself  sufficiently  fraught  with  perplexity, 
trouble,  and  sorrow.  All  that,  added  to  the  foregoing 
burden  of  excessively  careful  forethoughts,  may  over- 
whelm and  sink  us.  There  are  sundry  particular  con- 
siderations that  fall  in  here  also. 

1.  That  by  this  means  we  shall  suffer  the  same  thing 
over  and  over,  which  we  needed  not  sufler  more  than 
once.  It  obtained  for  a  proverb  among  the  d  Arabians, 
"  An  affliction  is  but  one  to  him  that  suffers  it,  but  to  him 
that  with  fear  expects  it,  double."  I  shall  suffer  the  evil 
of  to-morrow  this  day  and  to-morrow  too.  Yea,  and  by 
this  course  I  may  bring  all  the  evil  of  all  my  future  time 
into  each  several  day,  and  may  suffer  the  same  affliction 
a  thousand  times  over,  which  the  benignity  of  providence 
meant  only  for  my  present  exercise,  when  he  should  think 
it  most  fit  and  reasonable  to  lay  it  on. 

2.  I  may,  by  this  means,  suffer,  in  my  own  foreboding 
imagination,  many  things  that  really  I  shall  never  suffer 
at  afl,  for  the  events  may  never  happen,  the  forethoughts 
whereof  do  now  afflict  me.  And  what  a  foolish  thing  it  is 
to  be  troubled  before-hand  at  that  which  for  ought  I  know 
will  never  be,  and  to  make  a  certain  evil  of  an  uncertain  I 

3.  And  it  is  further  to  be  considered,  that  all  the  trouble 
I  suffer  in  this  kind  is  self-trouble.  We  therein  but  afflict 
ourselves.  And  it  adds  a  great  sting  to  affliction,  that  I  am 
the  author  of  it  to  myself  For  besides  the  unnaturalness 
of  being  a  self-tormentor,  (which  was  formerly  noted,)  it  is 
the  more  afflicting,  upon  review,  by  how  much  more  easily 
it  was  avoidable.  We  are  stung  with  the  reflection  on  our 
own  folly,  as  any  man  is  apt  to  be,  when  he  considers  his 
having  run  himself  into  trouble,  which  by  an  ordinarypru- 
dence  he  might  have  escaped.  With  what  regret  may  one 


OF  THOUGHTFULNESS  FOR  THE  FUTURE, 


339 


look  back  upon  many  bye-past  days,  wherein  I  might  have 
served  God  with  cheerfulness  in  my  calling,  "  walking  in 
the  light  of  the  Lord,"  which  I  have  turned  into  days  of 
pensive  darkness  to  myself,  by  only  my  hlack  and  dismal 
thoughts!  And  so  byhaving  drawn  unjustly  the  evils  of 
future  time  into  my  present  day,  I  come  to  draw  justly  the 
evils  of  my  former  time  (and  of  a  worse  kind)  into  it  also. 
What  God  inflicts  I  cannot  avoid,  but  am  patienily  to  sub- 
mit to  it,  which  carries  its  own  relief  in  it,  but  I  owe  no 
such  patience  to  myself,  for  having  foolishly  been  my  own 
afflicter,  with  needless  and  avoidable  trouble. 

4.  I  shall  suffer  hereby  in  a  more  grievous  kind  than  if 
only  the  feared  evil  had  actually  befallen  me.  It  being  the 
nature  of  external  evils  (which  the  prohibited  thoughtful- 
ness  chiefly  refers  to)  that  they  commonly  atilict  more  in 
expectation  than  in  the  actual  suffering  of  them,  (as  was 
awiseheathen'sobservation,)as external  good  ihingsphase 
more  in  the  expectation,  than  they  do  in  the  fruition  :  when 
(as  he  also  observes)  as  to  the  good  and  evil  things  of  the 
contrary  kind,  the  case  is  contrary.  And  how  often  do  we 
find  those  evils,  in  the  bearmg,  light,  and  to  have  little  in 
them,  that  looked  big,  seemed  formidable,  and  carried  a 
dreadful  appearance  with  them  at  a  distance  1  What  a  fear- 
ful thing  is  poverty  to  a  man's  imagination,  and  yet  who 
live  merrier  lives  than  beggars  1  We  therefore,  by  this 
anticipation,  suffer  in  a  worse  kind.  And  if  we  do  not 
make  an  affliction  of  no  affliction,  we  make  of  a  lighter 
one  a  more  grievous.  We  turn  a  future  outward  affliction 
into  a  present  inward  and  mental  one.  The  affliction  of  for- 
bidden care  falls  upon  the  mind,  whereas  the  object  of  that 
care  is  only  an  affliction  to  the  outward  man.  How  much 
more  of  suffering  is  an  intelligent  spirit  capable  of,  than  a 
mere  lump  of  animated  flesh  or  clay?  Can  my  body  ever 
feel  so  much  as  m}-^  soul  can  1  Pleasure  and  pain  are  always 
commensurate  to  the  principles  of  life  by  which  we  are  ca- 
pable of  the  one  or  the  other.  How  unspeakably  greater 
are  the  pleasures  of  the  mind  than  those  of  the  body!  and 
so,  consequently,  are  mental  afflictions  than  corporal.  The 
providence  of  God,  it  may  be,  intends  some  affliction  to 
our  outer  man  to-morrow  ;  but,  in  the  meantime,  our  ex- 
pectations and  anxious  thoughts  are  torturing  our  spirits 
to-day,  while,  perhaps,  we  have  burden  enough  otherwise. 

5.  And  as  the  affliction  of  anxious  forethought  and  care 
is  more  grievous  in  the  kind,  so  it  is  likely  to  be  very  in- 
tense in  the  degree  of  that  kind  ;  beyond  what  the  other 
sort  of  affliction  may  be.  For  whereas  the  other  may  be, 
more  directly,  from  God,  and  this  (as  was  said)  from  my- 
self God  afflicts  with  wisdom,  mercy,  and  moderation. 
But  this  self-affliction  proceeds  from  the  want  of  prudence, 
and  is  without  mercy.  So  that  the  moderating  principles 
are  wanting.  Men,  commonly,  know  no  limit  or  measure 
in  their  thus  afflicting  themselves  :  never  think  it  enough. 
Their  own  passions  are  their  tormentors,  which,  having 
broke  loose  from  under  the  government  of  their  reason  and 
prudence,  run  into  wild  rage  and  fury.  What  a  misery  is 
it  to  have  fierce  creatures  preying  upon  us!  God  would 
never  use  us  so  unmercifulh'  as  we  do  ourselves.  Or,  if  he 
suffer  wicked  men  to  be  our  afflictors,  that  know  no  pity, 
they  cannot  reach  our  spirits:  and  his  mercy  towards  us 
is  still  the  same.  He  can  restrain  or  overrule  them  at  plea- 
sure ;  or  infuse  such  consolations,  as,  when  we  are  thus 
afflicting  ourselves,  we  cannot  expect;  and  which  that  self- 
affliction  doth  naturally  exclude.  'Tis  unconceivable  what 
evils  we  superadd  to  our  own  days,  beyond  that  which  he 
counts  sufficient.  Nor  do  we  design  our  own  good  in  it, 
as  he  doth  when  he  afflicts.  Which  design  and  end  mea- 
sure and  limit  the  means,  that  they  may  not  exceed  the 
proportion  requisite  thereto. 

6.  All  this  superadded  evil  we  bring  upon  ourselves 
against  a  rule,  (which  is  fit  to  be  again  noted,)  for  both  the 
considerations  that  are  subjoined  must  be  considered,  as 
relative  to  the  precept.  We  break  first  the  law,  before  we 
break  our  own  peace.  Our  Redeemer  and  Lord  hath  in- 
terposed his  authority,  as  a  bar  against  our  troubling  our- 
selves; and  so  fenced  our  peace  and  comfort  for  us,  that 
we  have  no  way  to  come  at  our  own  trouble,  but  by  break- 
ing through  the  boundary  of  this  law.  This  then  is  a  very 
pestilent  addition  to  the  evil  of  this  dai/,  that  we  draw  upon 
ourselves  by  our  taking  thought  for' to-morrotr.     For  we 

e  Psal.  xijt. 


mingle  the  evil  of  sin  with  that  of  affliction.  We  deal  very 
ill  with  ourselves  in  this,  to  taint  our  affliction  with  so  foul 
a  thing  ;  which  might  have  been  mere  affliction  without 
that  imbilteriiig  accursed  mixture. 

And  it  is  to  be  considered,  that  this  draws  a  consequence 
with  it ;  (besides  the. depraving  nature  of  .'iin,  and  the  cor- 
roding nature,  especially,  of  this  sin ;)  'tis,  as  il  is  sin, 
punishable.  And  so,  as  we  bring  the  evil  of  to-morrow 
into  this  day,  we  may  bring  the  evil  of  this  day  into  to- 
morrow. God  may  be  offended,  and  frown  to-morrow. 
because  we  were  no  more  apt  to  be  governed  by  him  t<>- 
day.  And  as  we  drew  an  imaginary  cljud  from  the  next 
day  into  this,  it  may,  the  next,  return  upon  us  in  a  real 
storm.  But  whether  it  be  so  or  no,  it  highly  aggravates 
the  matter  that, 

7.  We  herein  oflTsnd,  not  only  against  the  justice  of  the 
law,  but  against  the  mercy  of  it,  the  kindness,  goodness, 
and  compassion  imported  in  it.  This,  as  il  was  intimated 
before,  so  needs  to  be  more  deeply  considered  by  itself.  It 
ought  indeed  to  be  acknowledged  concemmg  the  general 
frame  and  system  of  all  the  divine  laws,  that  they  are 
visibly,  and  with  admirable  suitableness,  contrived  for  the 
good  and  felicitj'  of  mankind,  and  seem  but  obligations 
upon  us  to  be  happy.  Such  «  as  in  the  keeping  whereof 
there  is  great  reward.  And,  in  this  particular  one,  how 
observably  hath  our  Lord  as  it  were  studied  our  quiet, 
and  the  repose  of  our  minds  !  How  (especially)  doth  the 
benignitj'  and  Kindness  of  the  holy  Lawgiver  appear  in  it ! 
upon  comparing  this  consideration  with  the  precept  itself. 
Take  no  thought  for  to-morrow,  sufficient  for  the  day  is 
the  evil  of  it :  q.  d.  I  would  not  have  you  over-burdened  ; 
I  would  have  you  be  without  care.  It  imports  a  tender- 
ness of  our  present  comfort ;  which  he  many  other  waj's 
expresses  of  our  future  safety  and  blessedness :  g.  d.  I 
would  have  you  go  comfortably  through  this  world,  where 
you  are  in  a  pilgrimage  and  a  wayfaring  condition  ;  I 
would  not  have  you  oppressed,  nor  your  spirits  bowed 
down  with  too  heavj'  a  burden.  And  'tis  elsewhere  incul- 
cated: Casting  all  care  on  him,  for  he  careth  for  you,  1 
Pet.  V.  7.  In  nothing  be  careful,  (Phil.  iv.  6.)  but  in  all 
things  let  your  requests  be  made  known  to  God,  with 
thanksgiving;  and  the  peace  of  God  (so  it  immediately 
follows)  which  passeth  all  understanding,  shall  keep  your 
hearts  and  minds.  Commit  thy  way  to  the  Lord,  devolve 
it  on  him,  as  the  word  signifies,  Psal.  xxxvii.  5.  trust  all  in 
him,  and  he  will  bring  it  to  pass.  If  we  be  so  wise  as  to 
observe  his  rule  and  design,  we  shall  be  wise  for  our- 
selves. And  that  tranquillity  and  calmness  of  spirit,  which 
manj^  heathens  have  so  highly  magnified,  and  which  their 
philosophy  sought,  our  religion  will  possess  and  enjoy-  But 
if  we  neglect  and  disregard  him  herein,  we  shall  bring  an 
evil  into  to-day  that  neither  belongs  to  this  day,  nor  to  any 
other.  It  is  true  indeed,  God  doth  often  point  us  out  the 
day,  wherein  we  must  suffer  such  and  such  external  evils, 
and  as  it  were  say  to  us,  "  Now  is  your  day  of  suffering." 
Sometimes  by  his  providence  alone,  when  I  have  no  way 
of  escape  ;  sometimes  by  the  concurrence  of  his  word  and 
providence,  when  the  one  hems  me  in  on  the  one  hand, 
the  other  on  the  other.  He  hath  now  set  me  a  day  for  suf- 
fering, in  this  or  that  kind;  but  none  for  sinning  in  this 
kind,  nor  in  any  other.  Why  shall  I  draw  in  evils  to  this 
day,  from  to-morrow,  that  belong  neither  to  this  day  nor 
to-morrow. 

The  sum  is,  whether  we  regard  our  innocency  or  our 
peace,  whether  we  would  express  reverence  to  God,  or  a 
due  regard  to  ourselves.  If  we  would  do  the  part  either 
of  pious  and  religious  or  of  rational  and  prudent  men,  we 
are  to  lay  a  restraint  upon  ourselves  in  this  matter.  Have 
we  nothing  to  employ  our  thoughts  about,  that  concerns  us 
more  1  nothing  wherein  we  may  use  them  to  better  pur- 
pose 1  Is  there  nothing  wherein  we  are  more  left  at 
liberty?  or  nothing  about  which  we  are  more  bound  in 
duty  io  think  ?  Unless  we  reckon  that  thoughts  are  abso- 
lutely free,  and  that  we  may  use  our  thinking  power  as  we 
please  ;  and  that  the  divine  government  doth  not  extend  to 
our  minds ;  (which  if  it  do  not,  we  confound  God's  go- 
ernment,  and  man's,  and  there  is  an  end  of  all  internal 
sin  and  duty,  and  of  the  first  and  most  radical  differences 
of  moral  gocxl  and  evil ;)  we  can  never  justif)'  ourselves  in 


340 


OF  THOUGHTFULNESS  FOR  THE  FUTURE. 


such  a  range  of  thoughts  and  cares,  as  this  we  have  been 
speaking  of.  Ani  'tis  very  unreasonable  to  continue  a 
course  we  cannot  justify.  A  transient  action  done  against 
a  formed  judgment  would  be  reflected  on  with  regret  and 
shame  by  such  as  are  not  arrived  to  that  pitch  as  not  to 
care  what  they  do.  But  to  persist  in  a  condemned  course 
of  actions,  must  much  more  argue  a  profligate  conscience, 
enfeebled  and  mortified  to  that  degree  as  to  have  little 
sense  left  of  right  and  wrong.  Where  it  is  so,  somewhat 
else  is  requisite  to  a  cure,  than  mere  representing  the  evil 
of  that  course.  What  that  can  do  hath  been  tried  already. 
And  when  men  have  been  once  used  to  victory  over  their 
own  judgments  and  consciences,  every  former  defeat 
makes  the  next  the  easier ;  till  at  length,  light  and  con- 
science becomes  sucli  contemptible  baffled  things,  as  to  sig- 
nify nothing  at  all,  to  the  governing  of  practice,  this  way 
or  that. 

The  only  thing  that  can  work  a  redress,  is  to  get  the 
temper  of  our  spirits  cured  ;  which  will  mightily  facilitate 
the  work  and  business  of  conscience,  and  is  necessary, 
even  where  it  is  most  lively  and  vigorous.  For  to  be  only 
quick  at  discerning  what  we  should  be,  and  do,  signifies 
little  against  a  disinclined  heart.  Therefore  for  the  recti- 
fying of  that,  and  that  our  inclinations,  as  well  as  our  judg- 
ments, may  concur,  and  fall  in  with  our  duty  in  this 
matter,  I  will  only  recommend  in  order  hereto  by  way  of 
direction  (among  many  that  might  be  thought  on)  these 
two  things. 

1.  That  we  use  more  earnest  endeavour  to  be,  habitu- 
ally, under  government,  in  reference  to  our  thoughts,  and 
the  inward  workings  of  our  spirits.  For  can  we  doubt  of 
the  obligation  of  the  many  precepts  that  concern,  imme- 
diately, the  inner  man  1  to  love,  to  trust,  to  fear,  to  rejoice 
in  God,  &c.  1  What  becomes  of  all  religion,  if  the  vital 
principles  of  it  be  thought  unnecessary  1  Do  not  all  the 
laws  of  God  that  enjoin  us  any  duty,  lay  their  first  obliga- 
tion upon  our  inward  man  1  Or  do  they  only  oblige  us  to 
be  hypocrites  1  and  to  seem  what  we  are  not  1  And  why 
do  we  here  distinguish  ;  and  think  that,  by  some  precepts, 
God  intends  to  oblige  us  ;  and  by  others  he  means  no  such 
thing,  but  to  leave  us  to  our  liberty  1  or  would  not  those 
which  we  will  confess  more  indispensable  (viz.  such  as 
have  been  instanced  in)  exclude  the  careful  thoughts,  we 
speak  of,  about  the  events  of  to-morrow  1  For  can  a  heart 
much  conversant  in  the  explicit  acts  of  love  to  God,  trust 
in  him,  the  fear  of  him,  &c.  be  much  liable  to  these  for- 
bidden cares  ? 

Nor,  surely,  can  it  be  matter  of  doubt  Avith  us,  whether 
God  observe  the  thoughts  and  motions  of  our  souls ;  for 


can  we  think  that  he  will  give  rules  about  things  wherein 
he  will  exercise  no  judgment  i  f  The  Lord  knoweth  the 
thoughts  of  man  that  they  are  vanity;  and  are  any  more 
vain  than  these!  do  we  Chrisiians  need  a  heathen  in- 
structor to  tell  us,  '  "  we  ought  always  so  to  live,  as  under 
view  ;  and  so  to  think,  as  if  then  were  some  one  that  may, 
and  can,  inspect  and  look  into  our  inneimost  breast.  To 
what  purpose  is  it  that  we  keep  any  thing  secret  from  man  1 
nothing  is  shut  up  to  God.  He  is  amidst  our  minds,  and 
comes  among  our  most  inward  thoughts."  Let  us  labour 
to  accustom  and  use  our  spirits  to  subjection,  to  have  them 
composed  and  formed  to  awful  apprehensions  of  that  au- 
thority and  government  which  the  Father  of  spirits  claims, 
and  hath  established  immediately  over  themselves.  This, 
though  it  be  more  general,  will  yet  reach  this  case. 

2.  That  we  aim  at  being,  in  the  temper  of  our  spirits, 
more  indifferent  about  all  future  events,  that  lie  within 
the  compass  of  time.  Let  us  not  account  them  so  very 
considerable.  Time  will  soon  be  over,  and  is  too  narrow 
a  sphere  for  us  to  confine  our  minds  unto.  We  should 
endeavour  a  greater  amplitude  of  thoughts.  As  he  that 
hath  large  and  noble  designs,  looks  with  great  indifference 
upon  smaller  matters  wherein  they  are  not  concerned.  One 
that  f-.-ars  God,  and  works  righteousness,  believes  a  world 
to  come,  and  lives'  in  entire  devotedness  to  the  Redeemer, 
(the  constitution  of  whose  kingdom  relates  entirely  to  that 
other  world,)  hath  little  cause  to  concern  himself  about  in- 
terveniences,  which,  as  to  his  part  in  that  world,  will  not 
alter  his  case.  We  are  not  the  surer  of  heaven,  if  the  sun 
shine  out  to-morrow  ;  nor  the  less  sure,  if  it  shine  not. 

For  the  obtaining  of  this  dutiful  and  peaceful  indifTer- 
enc)^,  it  concerns  us  to  be  much  in  prayer.  For  both,  that 
happy  temper  of  mind  is  part  of  the  wisdom,  h  which  if 
we  want,  we  are  to  ask  of  God,  and  it  directly  eases  us  of 
the  burden  of  our  affairs  to  commit  them  in  that  way ;  as 
is  signified  in  that  mentioned  scripture,  Phil.  iv.  6.  Nor 
was  any  thing  more  agreeable,  than  that  our  Lord  teach- 
ing us  (in  that  admirable  summary  of  petitions  given  in 
this  same  sermon  on  the  mount)  to  pray  every  day  for  our 
daily  bread,  should  here  forbid  us  to  take  thought  for  the 
morrow.  As  also,  in  the  gathering  of  manna,  no  care  was 
to  be  extended  further  than  the  present  day.*  We  have 
easy  access  daily.  Story  tells  us,  the  poor  Chineses  could 
not  enter  into  the  presence  of  their  Tartarian  prince,  with 
never  so  just  a  complaint,  without  submitting,  first,  to  a 
hundred  bastinados,  as  the  condition  of  their  admittance. 
Would  we  thankfully  accept,  and  use  as  we  might,  the 
constant  liberty  we  have  upon  the  easiest  terms,  how  much 
would  it  contribute  both  to  our  innocency  and  quiet  I 


AN   APPENDIX 


TO  THE    FOREGOING    DISCOURSE, 


CONCERNING  THE  IMMODERATE  DESIRE  OF  KNOWING  THINGS  TO  COME. 


There  is  yet  another  very  vicious  habit  of  mind,  be- 
sides this  of  taking  thought  about  the  events  of  future 
time;  viz.  an  intemperate  appetite  of  foreknowing  them. 
Which  hath  such  affinity,  and  lies  so  contiguous,  and  bor- 
dering to  the  former,  that  it  will  not  be  incongruous  to  add 
somewhat  concerning  it;  and,  which  is  of  so  ill  and  per- 
nicious an  import,  that  it  will  deserve  some  endeavour  to 
show  how  we  may  discern  and  repress  it.  And  it  may  be 
requisite  to  discourse  somewhat  to  this  purpose,  both  for 
the  vindication  of  God's  wisdom  and  goodness,  in  con- 
fining our  knowledge  of  the  events  of  future  time  within 
so  narrow  bounds  and  limits;  and  that  serious  Christians 
t  Psal.  scjv.  g  Soneca.  h  Jam.  i.  5. 


may  the  more  effectually  consult  the  ease  and  quiet  oi 
their  own  minds,  by  keeping  themselves  contentedly,  as  to 
this  matter,  within  the  bounds  which  be  hath  set  them. 
This  appetite  of  foreknowing  is  only  to  be  animadverted 
on  so  far  as  it  is  inordinate,  and  a  distemper.  Our  busi- 
ness therefore  here  must  be,  1.  To  specify  and  distinguish 
this  distemper  ;  2.  To  ofier  somewhat  for  the  cure  of  it. 

I.  For  the  finding  out  and  specifying  of  it.  It  is  not  to 
be  doubted  but  there  may  be  a  faultiness  in  the  defect ;  a 
too  great  listlessness,  and  indisposition  to  look  forward. 
Which  indisposition  will  appear  blameablc,Avhen  it  proceeds 
either — \.  From  a  sensual  slothfulness  of  temper,  that  ad- 
i  Both  wliich  remarks  are  noted  by  some  e.tpositors. 


ON  THE  IMMODERATE  DESIRE,  &c. 


diets  us  wholly  to  the  present.  It  is  too  much  a-kin  to 
the  beast,  to  be  totally  taken  up  with  what  now  pleases. 
When  all  the  soul  lies  in  the  senses,  and  we  mind  nothing 
but  the  grateful  relishes  of  our  present  and  private  enjoy- 
ments, are  quite  unconcerned  about  the  slate  of  the  world, 
or  the  Christian  interest,  or  what  shall  hereafter  come  of 
the  affairs  of  our  country,  in  civil  or  religious  respects: 
when  we  are  held  in  a  lazy  indifferency  concerning  the 
state  of  things  in  .succeeding  times  and  ages;  are  con- 
scious of  no  desire  of  any  hopeful  prospect  for  posterity, 
and  those  that  shall  come  after  us:  'tis  all  one  with  us 
whether  we  know  them  likely  to  be  civil  or  barbarian. 
Christian  or  pagan,  free  men  or  slaves,  because  we  care 
not  which  of  these  we  be  ourselves,  so  we  can  but  eat  on, 
and  enjoy  our  own  undisturbed  ease  and  plea.sure.  This  is 
a  fatal  raortifica'ion  of  the  appetite  of  foreknowin?;  for 
it  destroys  it  quite,  when  it  should  but  rectify  and  reduce 
it  within  due  bounds.  And  in  what  degree  that,  or  any 
other  inclination  ought  to  die,  ii  much  imports  what  kills 
it;  because  that  which  doth  so,  succeeds  into  the  do- 
minion, and  hath  all  the  power  in  me  which  it  before  had. 
And  surely  no  worse  thing  can  rule  over  me,  than  a  sen- 
sual spirit ;  that  binds  me  down,  and  limits  me  to  this 
spot  of  earth,  and  point  of  time.  Or  if  it  proceed — 2.  From 
a  weak  and  childish  dread  of  all  futurity:  as  children  ap- 
prehend nothing  but  bugbears,  and  hobgoblins,  and  fright- 
ful images,  and  appearances  in  the  dark.  This  ill  dispo- 
sition is  very  intimately  conjunct  with  the  former.  When 
a  .sensual  mind,  finding  itself  already  well  entertained 
with  the  gratifications  of  the  present  time,  cleaves  to  it, 
and  every  thought  of  a  change  is  mortal.  'Tis  death  to 
admit  the  apprehension  of  a  new  scene.  'Tis  as  true  in- 
deed, that  the  same  temper  of  mind,  in  more  ungrateful, 
present  circumstances,  runs  all  into  discontent  and  affecta- 
tion of  change ;  as  will  be  further  shown  hereafter  in  a 
proper  place.  But  in  this  region  of  changes,  'tis  most 
imprudent  and  incongruous,  to  let  the  mind  be  unchange- 
ably fixed  upon  any  external  state  and  posture  of  things  ; 
or  irreconcilably  averse  to  any.  It  is  becoming,  it  is 
laudable  and  glorious,  with  a  manly  and  truly  Christian 
fortitude,  to  dare  to  face  futurity,  how  formidably  soever 
any  thing  within  the  compass  of  time  may  look.  For, 
certainly,  so  far  as  we  ought  to  be  mortified  to  the  know- 
ledge of  future  things,  it  ought  to  proceed  from  some 
better  principle,  than  only  our  being  afraid  to  know  them. 
But,  that  distemper  of  mind  which  is  now  more  prin- 
cipally to  be  noted  and  reproved,  lies  rather  in  the  excess. 
That  therefore  it  maybe  distinctly  characterized  and  un- 
derstood, I  shall  endeavour  to  show — 1.  When  this  appetite 
of  foreknowing  the  events  of  future  time  is  not  to  be  thought 
excessive;  or  how  far  a  disposition  to  inquire  into  such 
matters  is  allowable  and  fit. — 2.  When,  by  its  excess,  it 
doth  degenerate  into  a  distemper,  so  as  to  become  the  just 
matter  of  reprehension  and  redress. 

1.  Therefore  (on  the  negative  part)  we  are  not  to  think 
it  disallowed  us  for;  yea  it  cannot  but  be  our  duty,  to 
have  a  well-proportioned  desire  of  understanding  so  much 
of  future  event,  as  God  hath  thought  fit  to  reveal  in  his 
word  ;  as  he  hath  there  foretold  very  great  things  concern- 
ing the  state  of  the  Christian  church  and  interest  to  the  end 
of  the  world.  Which  predictions  it  cannot  be  supposed  are 
made  public  and  offered  to  our  view  to  be  neglected  and 
overlooked.  Only  we  must  take  care  that  our  endeavour 
to  understand  them,  and  the  time  and  labour  we  employ 
therein,  be  commensurate  to  the  circumstances  of  our  con- 
dition, to  our  ability  and  advantage  for  such  more  difficult 
disquisitions,  and  be  duly  proportioned  between  them,  and 
other  things,  that  may  be  of  equal  or  greater  moment  to  us. 

2.  Nor,  again,  is  it  liable  to  exception,  if  we  only  desire 
to  make  a  right  use  of  other  additional  indications  and 
presages  also;  whether  they  belong  to  the  moral,  natural, 
or  political  world,  or  (if  any  such  should  be  afforded)  to 
the  more  peculiar  sphere  of  extraordinary  and  immediate 
divine  revelation. 

1.  It  is  not  only  innocent,  but  commendable,  to  endea- 
rour  the  making  a  due  improvement  of  moral  prognostics  ; 
or  to  consider  what  we  are  to  hope,  or  fear,  from  the  in- 
crease and  growth  of  virtue  or  vice  in  the  time  wherein 
we  live.  And  herein  we  may  fitly  guide  our  estimate,  by 
a  Auffust.  <le  Civit.  Dei,  I.  21.  c  8. 


341 

what  we  find  promised,  or  threatened,  or  historically  re- 
corded in  the  Holy  Scriptures  (or  other  ceitain  historj^) 
in  reference  to  like  cases.  Only  because  God  may  some- 
times arbitrarily  vary  his  method^  and  the  express  ap- 
plication of  such  promises,  threatenings,  and  histories  to 
our  times  is  not  in  Scripture,  we  should  not  be  too  positive 
in  making  it. 

2.  The  like  may  be  said  of  such  unusual  phenomena  as 
fall  out  wiihin  the  sphere,  but  besides  the  common  course 
of  nature:  as  comets,  or  whatever  else  is  wont  to  be  reckon- 
ed portentous.  The  total  neglect  of  which  things,  I  con- 
ceive, neither  agrees  with  the  religious  reverence  which 
we  owe  to  the  Ruler  of  the  world,  nor  with  common 
reason  and  prudence. 

It  belongs  not  to  the  present  design,  as  to  comets  par- 
ticularly, to  discourse  the  philosophy  of  them.  Their  rela- 
tion to  our  earth,  as  meteors  raised  from  it,  is  a  fancy  that 
seems  deservedly  exploded;  but  it  seems  to  require  great 
hardiness  to  deny  they  have  any  relation  as  tokens.  Their 
distance  from  us  may  well  argue  the  former.  But,  the 
constant  luminaries  of  heaven,  that  in  other  kinds  con- 
tinually serve  us,  might  by  their  distance  (most  of  them) 
be  thought  quite  unrelated  to  us  as  well  as  they.  And  if 
we  should  suppose  all,  or  most,  of  those  useful  luminaries 
primarily  made  for  some  other  nobler  use,  that  makes  not 
the  constant  benefit  we  have  by  them  less  in  itself.  The 
like  may  be  thought  of  the  use  which  these  more  extraor- 
dinary ones  may  be  of  to  us,  in  a  diverse  kind ;  that  they 
should  cause  what  they  are  thought  to  signify.  I  luider- 
stand  not,  nor  am  solicitous,  how  they  are  themselves 
caused  ;  let  that  be  as  naturally  as  can  be  supposed,  (of  the 
rejected  effluvia  of  other  heavenly  bodies,  orby  the  never  so 
regular  collection  of  whatsover  other  celestial  matter,)  that 
hinders  not  their  being  signs  to  us,  more  than  the  natural 
causation  of  the  bow  in  the  clouds  ;  though  that,  being  an 
appropriate  sign  for  a  determinate  purpose,  its  signification 
cannot  but  be  more  certain.  And,  if  we  should  err  in 
supposing  them  to  signify  any  thing  of  future  event  to  us 
at  all,  and  that  error  only  leads  us  into  more  seriousness  and 
a  more  prepared  temper  of  mind  for  such  trouble  a.s  may 
be  upon  the  earth  ;  it  will,  sure,  be  a  less  dangerous  error, 
than  that  on  the  other  hand  would  be,  if  we  sliould  err  in 
thinking  them  to  signify  nothing;  and  be  thereby  made 
the  more  supine  and  secure,  and  more  liable  to  be  surprised 
by  the  calamities  that  shall  ensue;  besides,  that  we  shall 
be  the  less  excusable,  in  departing  from  the  judgment  of  all 
former  times  and  ages,  upon  no  certainty  of  being  more  in 
the  right.  And  why  should  we  think  such  things  should 
serve  us  for  no  other  purpose,  than  only  to  gratify  our 
curiosity,  or  furnish  us  with  matter  of  wonder,  invite  us  to 
gaze  and  admire  1  when  (as  an  ancient  well  observes-'') 
"  things  known  to  all  in  the  common  course  of  nature  are 
not  less  wondertul,  and  would  be  amazing  to  all  that  con- 
sider them,  if  men  were  not  wont  to  admire  only  things 
that  are  rare."  It  is  neither  fit,  indeed,  we  should  be  very 
particular,  or  confident  in  our  interpretations  and  expecta- 
tions upon  such  occasions ;  or  let  our  minds  run  out  in 
exorbitant  emotions,  as  v.ill  be  further  shown  in  the  po- 
sitive account  which  is  intended  of  this  sort  of  distemper. 
But  I  conceive  it  is  very  safe  to  suppose,  that  some  very 
considerable  thing,  either  in  a  way  of  judgment  or  mercy, 
may  ensue;  according  as  the  cry  of  persevering  wicked- 
ness or  of  penitential  pra3'er  is  moreorlessloudatthat  time. 

3.  There  are,  again,  very  strange  and  extraordinary  as- 
pects of  providence  that  sometimes  ofl'er  themselves  to  our 
notice,  in  the  course  of  human  aflairs,  and  in  the  political 
world,  where  God  presides  over  rational  and  free  agents. 
And  these  also  must  be  allowed  to  have  their  significatijon 
of  what  is  likely  to  be  future.  For,  otherwise,  if  we  were 
to  reckon  they  impiirted  nothing,  either  of  gooti  or  evil  (so 
much  as  probable)  to  be  expected  from  them  ;  we  should 
be  to  blame,  if  our  minds  should  admit  any  impre.ssion 
from  them,  either  of  hope  or  fear,  (which  both  reler  to  the 
future,)  though  in  never  so  moderate  a  degree.  Andshould 
be  obliged  to  put  on  an  absolute  stoicism,  in  relerence  m 
whatsoever  may  occur  beyond  what  human  nature  is  capa- 
ble of ;  and  which  would  have  more  in  it  of  stupidity,  than 
prudence,  or  any  human  or  Christian  virtue.  When,  there- 
fore, the  face  of  providence  seems  more  manifestly  threat- 


342 


ON  THE  IMMODERATE  DESIRE 


ening  ;  clouds  gather,  all  things  conspire  to  infer  a  com- 
mon calamity,  and  all  means  and  methods  of  prevention 
are  from  time  to  time  frustrated ;  if  we  so  far  allow  our- 
selves to  think  it  approaching,  as  that  we  are  hereby  ex- 
cited to  prayer,  repentance,  and  the  reforming  of  our  lives, 
this  sure  is  belter  than  a  regardless  drowsy  slumber. 

And  again,  if  in  order  to  our  preservation  from  a  present 
utter  ruin,  there  fall  out,  in  a  continual  succession,  many 
strange  and  wonderful  things  which  we  looked  not  for, 
without  which  we  had  been  swallowed  up  quick;  we  be 
hereupon  encouraged  unto  trust  and  dependance  upon 
God,  and  the  hope  we  shall  be  preserved  from  being  at 
length  quite  destroyed,  whatever  present  calamities  may 
befall  us  ;  and  be  the  more  fortified  in  our  resolution  not 
to  forsake  him,  whatsoever  shall ;  this  seems  no  immodest 
or  irrational  construction  and  use  of  such  providences. 
Yea,  and  at  any  time,  when  there  is  no  very  extraordinary 
appearance  of  a  divine  hand  in  the  conduct  of  affairs  ;  it 
unbecomes  us  not  to  use  our  reason  and  prudence,  in 
judging  by  their  visible  posture  and  tendency,  as  they  lie 
under  human  management,  what  is  like  to  ensue  ;  upon 
supposition  the  overruling  Providence  do  not  interpose,  to 
hinder  or  alter  their  course  ;  (as  we  often  find  they  run  on 
long  in  one  current,  without  any  such  more  remarkable 
interposition  ;)  only  we  are  to  be  very  wary,  lest  we  be  pe- 
remptor}'  in  concluding  ;  or  put  more  value  than  is  meet 
upon  our  own  judgment,  (as  was  noted  before,)  both  be- 
cause we  know  not  when,  or  how,  a  divine  hand  may  in- 
terpose ;  and  may  be  ignorant  of  many  matters  of  fact, 
upon  which  a  true  judgment  of  their  natural  tendency  may 
depend,  and  our  ability  to  judge,  upon  what  is  in  view, 
may  be  short  and  defective.  Others  that  have  more  power, 
and  can  do  more,  may  also  have  much  more  prudence, 
and  can  discern  better.  But  observing  such  limitations, 
'tis  fit  we  should  use,  to  this  purpose,  that  measure  of 
understanding  which  God  hath  given  us.  In  what  part  of 
the  world  soever  he  assigns  us  our  station,  we  are  to  con- 
sider he  hath  made  us  reasonable  creatures,  and  that  w^e 
owe  to  him  what  interest  we  have  in  the  country  where  we 
live.  And  therefore,  as  we  are  not  to  affect  the  knowledge 
which  belongs  not  to  us;  so  nor  are  we  to  renounce  the 
knowledge  which  we  have  ;  to  abandon  our  eyes,  and  be 
led  on  as  brutes  or  blind  men.  But  to  endeavour,  accord- 
ing as  we  have  opportunity,  to  see  where  we  are,  and 
whither  we  are  going ;  that  we  may  know  accordingly  how 
to  govern  our  spirits,  and  aim  to  get  a  temper  of  mind 
suitable  to  what  may  be  the  state  of  our  case.  And  for 
aught  we  know,  this  may  be  all  the  prophecy  we  shall 
have  to  guide  us.  As  it  was  the  celebrated  saying  of  a 
Greek  poet,  quoted  by  divers  of  the  sager  heathens,  "  He 
is  the  best  prophet  that  conjectures  best."  Nor  is  it  so 
reasonable  to  expect,  that  in  plain  cases,  (which  do  ordi- 
narily happen,)  God  should,  by  any  extraordinary  means, 
give  us  notice  of  what  is  to  fall  out. 

4.  But  we  are  not  suddenly  to  reject  any  premonitions 
of  that  kind,  that  appear  to  deserve  our  regard,  if  there  be 
any  such.  'Tis  indeed  a  part  of  prudence  not  too  hastily 
to  embrace  or  lay  much  stress  upon  modern  prophecies. 
But  I  see  not  how  it  can  be  concluded,  that  because  God 
hath  of  latter  time  been  more  sparing  as  to  such  commu- 
nications, that  therefore  prophecy  is  so  absolutely  ceased, 
that  he  will  never  more  give  men  intimations  of  his  mind 
and  purposes  that  way.  He  hath  never  said  it;  nor  can 
it  be  known  by  ordinary  means.  Therefore  for  any  to  say 
it,  were  to  pretend  to  prophesy,  even  while  they  say  pro- 
phecy is  ceased.  The  superstition  of  the  vulgar  pagans 
was,  indeed,  greatly  imposed  upon  by  the  pretence  of  di- 
vination ;  but  among  their  moi-e  ancient  philosophers  none 
ever  denied  the  thing,  except  Xenophanes  and  Epicurus, 
as  Cicero  b  and  Plutarch >:  inform  us,  and  concerning  the 
latter,  Laertius.^  It  seems  he  did  it  over  and  over;  and, 
indeed,  it  well  agreed  with  his  principles  about  the  Deity 
to  do  so.  Cicero  himself,  after  large  discourse  upon  the 
subject,  leaves  at  last  the  matter  doubtful,  according  to  the 
manner  of  the  academy  which  he  professes  to  imitate.  Yet 
a  great  father  in  the"  Christian  church,  imderstands  him 
to  deny  it,  but  withal  observes  that  he  denied  God's  pre- 

b  De  divmat.  c  De  P!aci»  Phil. 

dmiiVTL»r}vdt  arranavevaXMii  ninipa:ci  toj  ^at  £^  rr,i  jiirpi'  tmrourit 
I J  ^<ta  Epic.  ^ 


science  too  (as  one  might,  indeed,  that  he  doubted  it  ii 
least)  in  that  discourse.  Plato  discourses  soberly  of  it, 
asserting  and  diminishing  it  at  once ;  (as  we  shall  after- 
wards have  more  occasion  tonote  ;)  the  generality  were  foi 
it,  as  is  eviJent.  And  indeed  the  many  monitory  dreams 
related  in  Cicero's  books  upon  that  subject,  and  by  Plu- 
tarch in  several  parts  of  his  works,  show  that  notices  oi 
things  to  come  were  not  uncommon  among  the  pagans; 
and  in  a  way  that  seemed  more  remarkable,  and  of  more 
certain  signification,  than  their  so  much  boasted  oracles. 
How  they  came  by  them,  from  whom,  or  upon  what  ac- 
count, we  do  not  now  inquire.  But  since  the  matter  was 
really  so,  it  seems  no  incredible  thing,  that  some  or  other 
in  the  Christian  church,  even  in  these  latter  ages,  should, 
upon  better  terms,  partake  somewhat  of  such  privilege. 
Nor  is  it  difficult  to  produce  many  instances,  within  the 
latter  f  centuries,  that  would  incline  one  to  think  it  hath 
been  so. 

But  whosoever  shall  pretend  it,  I  see  not  what  right 
they  can  claim  to  be  believed  by  others,  till  the  event  jus- 
tify the  prediction  ;  unless  they  can,  otherwise,  show  the 
signs  which  are  wont  to  accompany  and  recommend  a 
supernatural  revelation.  Where  any  such  is  really  afford- 
ed, 'tis  like  it  may  produce  a  concomitant  confidence,  that 
will  exclude  all  present  doubt  in  their  own  minds,  without 
external  confirmation.  But  then,  as  the  apostle  speaks  in 
another  case,  if  they  have  faith,  they  must  have  it  to  them- 
selves. They  can  never  describe  their  confidence  to  an- 
other, so  as  to  distinguish  it  from  the  impression  of  a  mere 
groundless  (and  often  deluded)  imagination.  Nor  are  others 
to  grudge  at  it,  if  some  particular  persons  be  in  this  or 
that  instance  privileged  with  so  peculiar  divine  favour,  a^s 
to  have  secret  monitions  of  any  danger  approaching  them, 
that  they  may  avoid  it,  or  direction  concerning  their  own 
private  affairs,  which  none  else  are  concerned  to  take  cog- 
nizance of.  But,  if  the  matter  be  of  common  concernment, 
the  concurrence  of  things  is  to  be  noted ;  and  a  greater 
regard  will  seem  to  be  challenged,  if  several  of  these  men- 
tioned indications  do  fall  in  together.  As  supposing  a  gra- 
dual foregoing  languor  and  degeneracy  of  religion,  in  the 
several  parts  of  the  Christian  world.  And  Christianity 
(with  the  several  professions  which  it  comprehends)  looks 
less  like  religion;  or  a  thing  that  hath  any  reference  to 
God.  But  rather,  that  men  have  thought  fit  to  make  use 
of  this  or  that  various  mode  of  it,  as  a  mark  of  civil  dis- 
tinction, under  which  to  form  and  unite  themselves  into 
opposite  parties,  for  the  serving  of  secular  interests  and 
designs.  It,  generally,  makes  no  better  men  than  pagan- 
ism. A  spirit  of  atheism,  profaneness,  and  contempt  oi 
the  Deity,  and  of  all  things  sacred,  more  openly  shows  and 
avows  itself,  than  perhaps,  heretofore,  in  any  pagan  nation. 
And  not  in  a  time  of  gross  darkness,  such  as  formerly,  for 
several  ages,  had  spread  itself  over  the  whole  face  of  ihe 
Christian  church  ;  but  in  a  time  of  very  clear  and  bright 
liglit.  Worse  and  more  horrid  principles,  even  in  the  an- 
cient sense  of  mankind,  apparently  destructive  of  common 
order,  and  of  all  human  society,  are  inserted  into  the  reli- 
gion of  Christians ;  and  obtain  with  them  that  have,  in 
great  part,  obtained  the  power  of  the  Christian  world,  and 
would  wholh' engross  the  Christian  name.  Better  princi- 
ples, in  others,  are  inefficacious  and  signify  nothing,  too 
generally,  to  the  governing  of  their  lives  and  practice.  Men 
are  let  loose  to  all  imaginable  wickedness,  as  much  as  if 
they  were  not  Christians,  and  many  {viz.  that  more  vasijj' 
numerous  and  bulky  party)  the  more  for  that  they  are  so. 
Yea,  and  not  let  loose  onl)^;  but  obliged  by  their  very 
principles  to  those  peculiar  acts  and  kinds  of  n'ickedness 
and  violence,  which  directly  fend  to  turn  Chris-tendom 
into  an  Aceldama,  and  involve  the  Christian  world  in  ruin 
and  confusion.  When  multitudes  stand  as  it  were  pre- 
pared, and  in  a  ready  posture,  to  execute  such  vengeance 
as  is  highly  deserved  by  others,  and  make  judgment  begin 
at  (that  which  our  profession  obliges  us  rather  to  account . 
the  house  of  God,  to  rebound  afterward,  with  greater  terro) 
and  destructiveness,  ujxjn  themselves  who  oegan  \t. 

If  now  some  eminent  servant  of  God  mucn  na^d,  arn. 
of  great  remark  for  knowledge,  wisdom,  and  sanctity,  re- 


e  August,  de  Cmt.  Dei,  !  5.  c.  9. 

fSavanrola   G   WischaTd,of8co4l6nd   and  several  other*. 


OF  KNOWING  THINGS  TO  COxME. 


343 


mole  from  all  suspicion  of  levity,  or  sinister  design,  shall 
have  very  expressly  foretold  such  a  time  and  state  uf  ihmgs 
as  this,  and  what  will  be  consequent  thereupon  ;  and  with 
great  earnestness  and  vehemency  inculcated  the  premoni- 
tion ;  and  if,  in  such  a  time,  God  shall  set  again  and  again 
a  monitory  torch,  high  and  flaming  in  the  heavens,  over 
our  heads;  methinks  it  doth  not  savour  well  tomakeliglit 
account  of  it,  or  think  it  signifies  nothing.  For,  (to  speak 
indeed,  as  himself  doth  allow  and  teach  us  to  conceive,) 
the  majesty  of  God  doth  in  such  concurrent  appearances 
seem  more  august.  His  hand  is  lift  up,  and  he  doth  as  it 
were  accingere  se,  prepare  and  address  himself  to  action, 
raise  him.self  up  in  his  holy  habitation,  (Zech.  ii.  13.) 
whereupon,  all  flesh  is  required  to  be  silent  before  him. 
A  posture  both  of  reverence,  in  respect  of  what  he  hath 
already  done  ;  and  of  expectation,  as  to  what  he  may  fur- 
ther be  about  to  do.  And  of  what  import  or  signification 
soever  such  things,  in  their  concurrence,  may  be  to  us,  it 
surely  ought  to  be  attended  to,  and  received  with  great 
seriousness,  yea,  and  with  thankfulness.  Especially,  if 
there  be  ground  to  hope  well  concerning  the  issue,  (as  there 
will  always  be  to  them  that  fear  God,)  and  we  can  see  the 
better  what  special  sort  and  kind  of  duty  we  are  more  pe- 
culiarly to  apply  ourselves  to  in  the  meantime. 

And  whereas  we  know  a  mind  and  wisdom  govern  all 
affairs  and  events  through  the  whole  universe  ;  it  is  fit  we 
should  meet  mind  with  mind,  wisdom  with  wisdom.  That, 
on  our  part,  an  obsequious,  docile  mind  should  advert  to 
and  wait  upon  that  supreme,  all-ruling.  Divine  mind,  in 
all  the  api)earances  wherein  it  looks  forth  upon  us ;  and 
with  a  dutiful  veneration,  cry  hail  to  every  radiation  of 
that  holy  light ;  accounting,  whatever  it  imports,  it  oppor- 
tunely visits  the  darkness  wherein  we  converse,  and  shoiild 
be  as  gratefully  received  as  the  sun,  peeping  through  a 
cloud,  by  one  travelling  in  a  dusky  day.  His  is  the  teach- 
ing wisdom.  It  is  well  for  us  if  we  can  be  wise  enough 
to  learn  ;  and  unto  that,  there  is  a  wisdom  requisite  also, 
?  Whoso  is  wise,  and  will  observe  these  things,  even  they 
shall  understand  the  loving-kindness  of  the  Lord.  And 
again, h  I  will  instruct  thee,  and  teach  thee  in  the  way 
which  thou  shall  go;  I  will  guide  thee  with  mine  eye; 
which  implies  our  eye  must  diligently  mark  his,  and  that 
(as  it  follows)  we  i  be  not  as  the  horse  or  mule,  that  have 
no  understanding,  &c.  And  whereas  all  the  works  of 
God,  even  those  that  are  of  every  day's  observation,  do 
some  way  or  other  represent  God  to  us  ;  and  should  con- 
stantly suggest  mito  us  serious  thoughts  of  him  !  those  that 
are  more  extraordinary  ought  the  more  deeply  to  impress 
our  minds,  and  excite  in  us  those  higher  acts  of  a  religious 
affection,  which  the  circumstances  of  our  present  state  ad- 
mit not,  that  they  can  be  constant  in  the  same  degree.  As 
though  subjects  ought  always  to  bear  a  loyal  mind  towards 
their  prince  ;  upon  such  greater  occasions,  when  he  shows 
himself  in  solemn  state,  'tis  becoming  there  be  correspond- 
ent acts  of  more  solemn  homage.  But  upon  the  whole, 
since  all  the  certain  knowledge  we  can  have  of  such  futu- 
rities as  naturally,  and  in  themselves,  are  not  certain, 
must  be  by  God's  own  revelation  only  ;  and  all  probable 
pre-apprehension  of  them,  by  the  use  of  our  own  reason 
and  prudence,  upon  any  other  apta  Media  that  occur  to  us. 
While  we  can  confine  our  desire  of  seeing  into  the  future 
within  these  limits,  it  will  be  just  and  innocent.  And 
therefore  we  may  now  go  on, 

II.  To  the  positive  discovery  wherein  this  appetite  is  in- 
ordinate, and  degenerates  into  a  distemper  of  mind.  And 
it  may,  in  general,  be  collected  from  what  hath  been  now 
said,  viz.  that  when  we  remain  unsatisfied  with  what  God 
is  pleased  to  reveal  about  such  things  ;  and  with  what  a 
well-governed  prudence  can  any  other  way  discern;  and 
have  an  itch  and  hankering  of  mind  after  other  prognos- 
tics, that  lie  not  within  this  compass,  and  are  no  proper 
objects  either  for  our  faith  or  our  reason.  This  is  the  dis- 
temper we  are  to  get  redressed,  an*',  are  coii';erned  to 
take  heed  lest  we  indulge  or  chensh.  And  that  we  may 
yet  be  somewhat  more  distinct  in  making  tliis  discovery, 
these  th?.t  follow  will  be  pl-^..!  iiidica'.ions,  tha;  our  iii- 
quisitiveness  and  thirst  alter  knowledge  of  future  things  is 
a  distemper  of  mind,  and  ought  to  be  considered  and  dealt 
with  accordingly.     As, 

g  P».  c\Ti.  ult  h  Pa.  xtxii.  8  i  Ver  9. 


1.  If  it  be  accompanied  with  discontent,  and  a  fastidious 
loathing  of  our  present  lot  and  portion  in  the  world. 
Which  is  .so  much  the  worse  if,  when  our  affectation  and 
desire  of  change  proceeds  really,  and  al  the  bottom,  from 
private  self-re.'^pect,  we  endeavour  to  delude  others,  or 
flatter  ourselves  into  a  belief  that  'tis  only  the  public  good 
we  are  intent  upon,  and  the  belter  state  of  God's  interest 
in  the  world.  And  worst  of  all,  if  our  desires  be  turbu- 
lent, vindictive,  and  bloody,  i.  e.  if  not  only  they  are  so 
fervent  towards  our  own  hoped  advantages,  that  we  care 
not  through  what  public  confusions  and  calamities  our 
private  ends  be  promoted  and  carried  on  :  but  .should  like 
It  the  better  to  see  at  the  same  time  our  heart's  desire  upon 
them  we  have  allowed  our.selves  to  hate ;  yea.  though  it 
be  never  so  true  that  they  hate  us,  and  have  been  injurious 
to  us.  Thus  with  the  study  and  desire  of  a  new  state  of 
things,  which  in  itself  maybe,  in  some  cases,  innocent; 
and,  limited  to  due  methods  and  degrees  of  the  desired 
change,  not  only  innocent  but  a  duty,  (for  there  is  no  state 
of  things  in  this  world  .so  good,  but  being  still  imperfectly 
so,  we  ought  to  desire  it  were  better,)  a  twofold  vicious 
appetite  may  fall  in,  that  of  avarice,  and  revenge,  of  good 
to  ourselves  beyond  what  comes  to  our  share,  and  of  hurt 
to  other  men.  Which  complicated  disease  mnist  taint  and 
infect  every  thought  and  look,  that  is  directed  forward 
towards  a  better  slate  of  things. 

If  this  be  the  case,  it  must  be  great  negligence  and  indul- 
gence to  ourselves  nal  to  discern  it.  For  the  incoherence 
and  ill  agreement  of  what  is  real  and  what  is  pretended, 
would  soon  appear  to  one  not  willing  to  be  mistaken.  Sin- 
cere devotedne.ss  to  God  and  his  interest  would  be  always 
most  conjunct  with  that  complacential  faith  in  his  govern- 
ing wi.sdom  and  power,  and  entire  resignment  of  our.selves 
and  all  his  and  our  own  concerns  to  his  pleasure  and 
goodness,  that  we  will  never  think  his  procedure  too  slow ; 
or  suspect  him  of  neglecting  his  own  interest,  or  of  that 
which  he  judges  (and  which  therefore  is,  most  truly)  ours. 
And  it  is  ever  accompanied  with  that  placid  benignity, 
and  universal  love  to  other  men,  (enemies  themselves  be- 
ing by  the  known  rules  of  the  gospel  included.)  as  that  we 
would  not  wi.sh  their  least  injury,  for  our  own  greatest 
advantage.  And  should  most  earnestly  wish,  that  if  God 
see  good,  the  advantage  of  his  interest  in  the  world  ini<rht 
be  so  carried  on,  as  to  comprehend  and  lake  in  therewith 
their  greatest  advantage  also.  And  if  we  should  see 
cause  to  apprehend  it  may  fall  out  to  be  otherwise  ;  that, 
surely,  ought  to  be  our  temper,  which  the  prophet  ex- 
presses (and  appeals  to  God  concerning  it)  upon  a  very 
frightful  prospect  of  things,  k  "I  have  not  desired  the  wo- 
ful  day,  O  Lord,  thou  knowest."  So  remote  it  should  be 
from  us  to  press  forward  with  a  ravenous,  cruel  eye,  to- 
wards a  tragical  bloody  scene ;  or  to  accuse  the  Divine 
patience,  which  we  should  adore,  and  (perhaps  as  much 
as  any  others)  do  also  need. 

2.  if  there  be  a  greater  inclination  to  look  forward  into 
the  future  things  of  time  than  those  of  eternity.  If  in  the 
former  we  find  a  connaturalness,  and  they  seem  most 
agreeable  to  us,  these  other  are  tasteless,  and  without  sap 
and  savour,  if  it  would  be  a  great  and  sensible  con,so- 
lation,  to  be  assured  such  a  state  of  things  as  we  would 
choose,  shall  very  shortly  obtain.  But  to  think  of  a  state 
approaching,  wherein  all  things  shall  be  perfectly  and  un- 
exceptionably  well  for  ever,  is  but  cold  comfort.  Blessed 
God!  what  a  mortal  token  is  this  1  Do  we  apprehend 
nothing  of  distemper  in  it  1  Do  we  see  ourselves  the  men 
of  time,  (as  the  Hebrew  expresses  what  we  read  ■  men  of 
this  world,)  and  do  not  our  hearts  misgive  at  the  thought  1 
How  little  likely  is  it  we  are  designed  for  that  blessed 
eternity  to  which  our  spirits  are  so  little  suitable!  when, 
as  'tis  said  of  them  that  are  for  the  state  wherein  ">  mor- 
tality shall  be  swallowed  up  of  life,  that  he  that  hath 
wrought  them  for  that  self-same  thing  is  God  !  Can  the 
felicity  of  heaven  belong  to  them  that  value  it  not  as  their 
best  good  ]  but  count  a  terrestrial  paradise  of  their  own 
devising  better  1 

3.  If  we  be  so  intent  upon  this  or  that  future  event,  as 
that  hereby  the  due  impression  is  worn  off  of  much 
greater  and  more  important  things  that  are  already  past. 
What  so  great  things  have  we  to  expect  in  our  time,  as 

k  Jerem.  nii.  16.  1  Ps.  rrii  H.  m  2  Cor.  v.  4,  5. 


344 


ON  THE  IMMODERATE  DESIRE 


we  know  have  come  to  pass  in  former  time !  What  so 
great,  as  that  the  Son  of  God  came  down  into  our  world  ! 
did  put  on  man !  lived  a  lifetime  among  us  mortals  ! 
breathed  every  where  heavenly  love,  and  grace,  and 
sweetness;  and  with  these  grateful  odours  perfumed  this 
noisome,  impure,  forlorn  region  of  darkness  and  death ! 
died  a  sacrifice  for  sinners !  and  overcame  death  !  ascended 
in  triumph  to  the  throne  of  God,  sat  down  on  the  right 
hand  of  the  Majesty  on  high!  What"  so  great  as  the 
mystery  of  godliness,  that  God  was  manifested  in  the  flesh, 
jusiifieil  in  the  spirit,  seen  of  angels,  preached  unto  the 
Gentiles,  believed  on  in  the  world,  received  up  into  glory ! 
Are  Einy  of  those  little  futurities,  whereof  we  have  but  an 
uncertain  expectation,  lit  to  be  compared  with  these  things 
which  we  certainly  know  to  have  come  to  pass  1  Or  have 
we  any  thing  so  important  and  great  to  fix  our  eye  upon, 
as  a  Redeemer  now  in  his  exaltation  1  invested  with  all 
power  in  heaven  and  earth,  to  whom  every  Icnee  must 
bow,  and  every  tongue  confess !  the  arbiter  of  life  and 
death  to  men  !  who  hath  established  so  admirable  a  frame 
of  religion  for  the  reduction  of  apostate  man !  made  it 
triumph  over  the  obstinate  infidelity  of  the  Jews,  and  the 
idolatry  of  the  Gentile  world!  And  what  the  glorious 
issue  of  his  administration  will  be,  we  already  know;  and 
are  not  left  about  it  to  suspenseful  dubious  inquiry.  Nor 
do  need  a  more  certain  revelation  than  we  have.  Is  all 
this  to  be  waived  and  overlooked  ;  while  we  stand  at  a  gaze, 
expecting  what  shall  be  the  height  of  the  French  monar- 
chy, or  tire  fate  of  the  Dutch  republic,  or  of  this  or  that 
particular  person,  now  upon  the  stage  1  It  must  surely  be 
an  ill  symptom,  and  an  indication  of  a  sickly  mind,  when 
things  have  all  their  value  and  regard  with  us,  not  as 
they  are  great  but  as  they  are  new.  And  are  only  con- 
siderable to  us,  because  they  are  yet  future  and  unknown. 

4.  If  we  more  earnestly  covet  to  foreknow  the  approach 
of  an  external  state  of  things  that  would  be  better,  in  our 
account,  than  to  feel  the  good  effect  upon  our  spirits,  of 
one  that  we  take  to  be  worse,  and  that  is  externally  afflic- 
tive to  us.  This  excludes  the  apprehension  of  a  wise  Pro- 
vidence, governing  the  world  ;  that  pursues  a  design  in 
what  it  doth  or  permits.  As  if  we  thought  God  did  afflict 
us  for  affliction's  sake,  as  more  intending,  therein,  his  own 
pleasure  than  our  profit.  Or  as  if  we  would  impute  a 
levity  to  Providence,  and  reckoned  it  inconstant  and  de- 
sultory, even  beneath  the  ordinary  prudence  of  a  man. 
That  it  might  forget  and  desist,  and  would  not  drive  on  a 
design  to  an  issue.  Or  that  (contrary  to  what  God  tells 
Eli  by  o  Samuel)  when  he  began,  he  would  divert  and  alter 
his  course,  before  he  made  an  end.  Or  it  implies,  we  place 
our  felicity  in  somewhat  without  us,  more  than  in  a  good 
habit  and  temper  of  spirit  within.  Whereas,  surely  things 
are  much  amiss  with  us,  if  we  do  not  account  that  a  mor- 
tified heart,  towards  whatsoever  is  temporary  and  terrene, 
is  a  thousand-fold  more  desirable  than  the  best  external 
state  of  things  that  is  ever  to  be  enjoyed  under  the  sun. 
As  calamitous  as  the  condition  of  Job  was,  it  had  been  a 
worse  evil  than  any  he  suffered  ;  if  that  censure  of  him 
were  true,?  that  he  chose  iniquii}^  rather  tjian  affliction. 
Or  if  that  were  not  true,  which  he  seems  to  intimate  con- 
cerning himself,  that  he  was  less  intent  upon  a  present 
release  from  the  furnace,  than,  at  length,  to  come  out  like 
gold."' 

5.  If  the  other  parts  of  Scripture  be  less  savoury  to  us 
than  the  prophetical.  And  especially  when  these  are  of 
more  grateful  savour  than  the  preceptive  part.  This  is  of 
great  affinity  with  the  foregoing  character.  For  the  pre- 
cepts in  God's  word  describe  to  us  that  excellent  frame  of 
spirit,  which  afflictions  are  designed  (as  one  sort  of  means) 
more  deeply  to  impress.  And  what  there  is  of  ill  charac- 
ter here,  lies  in  this,  when  any  thing  is  of  greater  value, 
than  that  comely,  amiable,  well-complexioned  temper  of 
spirit.  And  surely  it  less  concerns  us,  what  God  will  do 
without  us,  than  what  he  will  have  us  do,  and  be,  our- 
selves. It  is  an  ill  circumstance  with  a  disea.sed  person, 
when  he  hath  less  inclination  to  such  things  as  tend  to 
bring  him  to  a  confirmed  habit  of  health,  than  such  as 
more  serve  to  nourish  his  disease.  And  whereas  Qvic- 
quid  recipilur — ad  iiiodum  rccipientis,  there  is  little  doubt, 
but   where   this    rlistemper  we  are  speaking  of,  prevails. 

n  1  TtMi.  ill.  16.  o  1  .siam  lii  Ij.  p  ,loli  wxvj.  '.'i. 


men  may  be  much  inclined  to  make  that  use,  even  of 
Scripture  prophecies,  as  to  feed  their  distemper.  When 
they  can  relish  and  allow  themselves  to  mind  no  other 
parts  of  the  Bible :  when  they  take  more  pleasure  to  be 
conversant  in  these  obscure  things,  than  those  that  are 
plain,  and  concern  us  more,  (as  God  hath  mercifully  pro- 
vided that  such  things  in  his  word  should  be  plainest  that 
are  of  greatest  concernment  to  us,)  and  they,  perhaps, 
neither  have  the  requisite  helps,  nor  the  ability,  with  them 
to  master  the  obscurity :  when  our  prepossessed  fancy 
must  be  the  interpreter,  and  we  will  make  the  prophecy 
speak  what  it  never  meant;  draw  it  down  to  the  little  par- 
ticularities of  the  time  and  place  wherein  we  live ;  and 
are  peremptory  in  our  applications,  and  so  confident,  till 
we  find  ourselves  mistaken,  that  when  we  do,  we  begin  to 
suspect  the  Bible ;  as  if  divine  truths,  and  our  attachments 
to  them,  must  stand  and  fall  together. 

6.  (And  lastly)  When  we  have  an  undue  regard  to  un- 
scriptural  prophecies.  Which  we  may  be  suppo.sed  to 
hav6,  if  we  either  much  search  after  them,  or  give  hasty 
credit  to  them  without  search. 

1.  If  we  much  search  after  them,  as  weak  and  sickly 
appetites  are  wont  to  do  for  rarities  and  novelties  ;  we  are 
not  content  with  what  occurs,  nor  with  our  own  allotment, 
and  God's  ordinary  dispensation,  if  things  of  that  kind 
occur  not,  but  purvey  and  listen  out  after  them;  as  if  we 
had  not  considerable  things  enough,  both  for  our  employ- 
ment, and  our  entertainment  and  gratification  besides. 

2.  If  we  believe  them  without  search,  only  because  they 
seem  to  speak  according  to  our  mind ;  imbibe  all  things, 
of  that  import,  promiscuously  and  on  the  sudden,  without 
examining  the  matter.  >■  The  simple  believeth  every  word. 
'Tis  the  business  of  judgment,  to  distinguish  and  discern. 
We  therefore  call  it  discretion.  It  totally  fails,  when  we 
can  find  no  medium  between  believing  every  thing  and 
nothing.  Some  things  indeed  of  this  pretence,  are  so  ap- 
parency idle  and  ridiculous,  that  it  will  become  a  prudent 
man  to  reject  them  at  the  first  sight.  Some  may  perhaps, 
partly  from  the  matter,  or  partly  from  the  person,  and 
other  concurring  circumstances,  have  such  an  appearance, 
as  ought  to  stay  our  minds  upon  them,  detain  us  awhile, 
and  hold  us  in  some  suspense,  while  we  consider  and  ex- 
amine whether  any  further  regard  is  to  be  given  them  or 
no.  'Tis  a  very  di.stempered,  ravenous  appetite  that  swal- 
lows all  it  can  catch  without  choice ;  that  allows  no  leisure 
to  distinguish  between  what  is  suitable,  or  fit  for  nourish- 
ment, and  what  is  either  noxious  or  vain. 

II.  And  now  for  the  cure  of  this  distemper.  We  are 
to  consider  the  nature  of  the  things  the  foreknowledge 
whereof  we  so  earnestly  affect.  And  we  find  they  are  not 
such  futurities  as  have  their  certain  causes  in  nature.  As 
when  the  sun  will  rise  and  set  ;  or  be  nearer  us  or  re- 
moter ;  when  there  will  be  an  eclipse,  &c.  These  are  not 
the  things  which  will  satisfy  this  appetite.  But  mere  con- 
tingencies that  depend  upon  free  and  arbitrary  causes,  i.  e. 
especially,  upon  the  mind  and  will  of  man,  as  it  is  under 
the  direction  of  the  supreme  and  all-governing  mind. 
And  again,  we  are  to  consider  the  nature  of  the  knowledge 
we  covet,  of  these  things,  viz.  that  it  is  not  conjectural, 
(which  indeed  were  not  knowledge,)  but  we  would  be  at  a 
certainty  about  them.  Now  hereupon  we  are  further  to 
consider,  that  there  is  no  reasonable  appetite  which  we 
may  not  seek  to  have  gratified  in  some  apt  and  proper 
wa)'',  i.  e.  by  means  that  are  both  lawful  and  likely  to 
attain  our  end. 

In  the  present  case,  we  can  think  of  no  course  to  be 
taken  for  the  obtaining  of  this  knowledge,  (even  giving  the 
greatest  scope  and  latitude  to  our  thoughts,)  but  it  must 
suppose  one  of  these  two  things  ; — either  that  we  look  upon 
it  as  an  ordinary  gift  to  be  acquired  b}^  our  own  endeavours, 
?'.  e.  by  art  and  industrj^  and  the  use  of  natural  means  and 
helps,  whereby  we  imagine  our  natures  may  be  heightened, 
and  improved  to  this  pitch — or  else  that  we  reckon  it  an 
extraordinary  immediate  gift  of  God  ;  so  that  if  we  afl^ect 
it,  we  have  no  course  to  take  but  to  seek  it  at  his  hands  by 
prayer;  either  that  God  would  confer  it  upon  ourselves, 
or  upon  some  others,  by  whom  we  may  be  informed.  And 
we  are  now  to  bethink  ourselves,  what  encouragement  or 
allowance  we  can  suppo.se  is  given  us  to  seek  it  either  of 

q  Jol)  .wiii.  10.  r  Prov.  xiv.  1.). 


OF  KNOWING  THINGS  TO  COME. 


215 


these  ways.  For,  if  Ave  can  seek  it  in  neither  of  these,  we 
must  be  obliged  either  to  assign  a  third  (as  we  never  can) 
or  abandon  it  as  an  unreasonable  and  vicious  appetite; 
the  satisfaction  whereof  is  no  way  to  be  so  much  as  at- 
tempted, or  sought  after.     And  now, 

1.  As  to  the  former  of  these  ways.  There  is  nothing 
more  to  be  despaired  of,  the  very  attempt  being  both  fool- 
ish and  impious;  both  most  impossible  and  unlawful. 

1.  'Tis  plainly  an  mj^i^siiWc  attempt.  For  what  natural 
means,  what  rules  of  art,  can  give  us  the  knowledge  of 
such  futurities  as  we  are  .'^peaking  of,  or  improve  our  na- 
tural faculties  to  it  ■?  'Tis  a  knowledge  quite  of  another 
kind,  and  alien  to  our  natures.  For  besides  the  notices 
we  have  of  things  by  sense,  which  is  limited  wholly  to 
things  present  as  its  object,  and  our  knowledge  of  first 
and  self-evident  principles,  (from  which  how  remote  are 
the  future  contingencies  we  now  speak  of  1)  we  have  no 
imaginable  way  of  coming  by  the  knowledge  of  an)'  thing, 
otherwise  than  by  reasoning  and  discourse,  which  supposes 
a  nalural  connexion  of  things.  Whereupon,  when  we  have 
sure  hold  of  one  end  of  tJie  thread,  we  can  proceed  by  it, 
and  lead  ourselves  on  by  such  things  as  w'e  know  to  other 
things  we  know  not.  But  what  such  natural  connexion  is 
there  between  any  present  ihing,  known  to  us,  and  this 
sort  of  future  things  1  Which,  for  the  most  part,  are  such 
as  must  be  brought  about  by  ihe  concurrence  of  great 
multitudes  of  free  agents,  who  may  be  opposed  bj'  as 
great,  and  prevented  of  accomplishing  what  they  designed, 
though  their  minds  were  never  so  constantly  intent  u.pon 
the  design.  But  we  have  no  way  to  know  with  certainty 
the  present  minds  of  so  many  men,  nor  of  any  man  at  all, 
by  immediate  inspection  ;  or  otherwise,  than  as  we  may 
collect  by  the  former  series  of  his  actions  or  professions, 
wherein  men  ma}'  deceive  the  most  quick-sighted,  and 
really  intend  otherwise  than  the)' seem.  Much  less  dowe 
know  that  so  mutable  a  thing  as  the  mind  of  man  is,  will 
not  alter,  and  especially  of  so  many  men.  And  their  con- 
dition and  outward  circumstances  may  alter,  if  not  their 
minds.  What  can  be  certain  in  such  a  region  of  changes, 
where  the  effecting  of  purposes  depends  upon  the  body, 
as  well  as  the  mind,  and  many  external  aids  and  helps  be- 
sides 1  and  where  all  are  subject  to  so  many  accidents, 
to  maims,  and  sicknesses,  and  deaths  1  Nay,  who  can  tell 
what  his  own  mind  shall  be  hereafter,  supposing  any  such 
futurity  to  be  within  his  own  power,  or  that  his  power  shall 
be  the  same  if  his  mind  should  not  change  1  And  add,  what 
is  more  than  all  the  rest,^  who  knoweth  the  mind  of  God, 
or  be^ng  his  counsellor  hath  taught  him  7  Who  can  tell 
what  he  will  do,  or  enable  or  permit  men  to  do1  What 
event  could  ever  have  been  thought  more  certain,  before- 
hand, than  the  destruction  of  the  Jews  by  Haman's  means  1 
And  who  could  ever  have  foreseen,  a  few  days  or  hours 
before,  that  he  should  be  hanged  on  the  gallows  he  pre- 
pared for  Mordecai  1  Who  can  ever  think  or  hope  to 
measure  that  botindless  range,  and  latitude,  wherein  infi- 
nite wisdom  and  power  may  work  this  way  or  thatl  Or, 
within  that  vast  and  immense  scope,  who  can  be  able  to 
predict  what  way  God  will  take  1  Or  what  he  will  do,  or 
not  do  1  When  all  human  contrivance  and  forecast  it  at  an 
end,  still  more  ways  lay  open  to  him.  Or  his  po'U'cr  can 
make  more,  and  break  its  wa}'  through  whatsoever  obstruc- 
tions.! We  know  not  what  to  do,  (says  Jehoshaphat  in  his 
distress,)  but  our  eyes  are  upon  thee.  A  dutiful  confession 
of  the  limitedness  of  human  wit  and  power,  and  of  the  un- 
limitedness  of  the  Divine,  both  at  once  !  To  offer  at  com- 
prehending his  profound  designs  and  abstruse  methods, 
only  show.s  how  little  we  understand  ourselves  or  him ;  our 
own  scant  measure,  or  his  immensity.  We  might  better 
attempt  to  sound  the  ocean  with  our  finger,  or  gather  it  into 
the  hollow  of  our  hand.  It  were  happy  for  us,  if  our  con- 
fessed ignorance  might  end  in  adoration  ;  and  that  the 
sense  of  our  hearts  were  such  as  the  apostle's  words  would 
aptly  express,  (Rom.  xi.33.)  O  the  depth  of  the  riches  both 
of  the  wisdom  and  knowledge  of  God  !  How  unsearchable 
are  his  judgments,  and  his  ways  past  finding  out !  Such 
as  affect  to  be  wiser,  but  not  so  pious,  and  go  about  to 
form  models  and  ideas  for  the  future,  apart  from  him  ; 
how  often  do  their  great  wit  only  serve  to  expose  their 
folly,  and  make  them  the  sport  of  fortune !  (as  some 
a  Is.  xl.  Vi.    Rom.  xi.  t  2  Chroii.  xx.  u  Quint.  Curt. 


would  call  it ;)  we  may  say  rather,  of  that  wise  and  right- 
eous Providence,  that  delights  to  triumph  over  baffled  in- 
solence !  (for  Ivdit  in  hvriianis,  &c.)  and  deride  a  confi- 
dence that  is  founded  only  in  proud  impotency  !  He  that 
.sits  in  the  heavens  laughs,  the  Most  High  hath  them  in  de- 
rision. How  ofien  are  the  wisest  politicians  disappointed 
and  despised !  all  their  measures  broken !  their  models 
shattered  and  discomposed  !  and  all  their  fabrics  overturn- 
ed in  a  moment  !  So  remote  is  human  wit,  at  the  utmost 
stretch,  from  any  certainty, about  the  futurities  we  speak  of. 
And  if  any  imagine  it  may  be  helped  to  foresee,  by  some 
art  or  other  ;  or  by  rules  framed  and  collected  upon  former 
experience  ;  according  whereto  judgments  are  said  hereto- 
fore to  have  been  happily  made,  of  what  would  come  to  pa.ss: 
It  is  not  here  intended  to  examine  the  several  ways  that 
have  been  taken,  and  trusted  in,  for  this  purpose.  That 
they  are  all  such  as  have  been,  and  are,  much  disputed,  if 
they  were  not  with  manifest  evidence  disproved,  would 
argue  that  foreknowledge  of  things  not  likely  to  be  very 
certain,  that  must  be  had  by  arts  and  rules  that  are  them- 
selves uncertain.  How  much  bath  been  said  (anciently, 
and  of  late)  to  discover  the  vanity  of  that  sort  of  a.strology 
that  relates  to  the  futurities  we  have  under  consideration! 
Such  as  have  a  mind  may  view^  what  is  written  to  that 
purpose,  and  may  save  themselves  much  vain  labour,  by 
perusing  the  learned  Dr.  More's  late  Tetractys,  and  what 
it  refers  to  in  his  Mystery  of  Godliness.  Have  we  heard 
of  none  of  our  later  pretenders  this  way,  that  have  incur- 
red the  like  fate  with  that  wise  man  of  Greece,  Uiai  was 
laughed  at  by  a  silly  giil  (as  Laertius  tells  us)  for  ao'lon^ 
gazing  upon  the  stars,  (though  perhaps  upon  a  better  ac- 
count,) till  at  length,  in  his  walk,  he  fell  into  a  ditch  ;  thai 
he  minded  so  much  what  was  over  his  head,  that  he  took 
no  notice  what  was  at  his  feet !  And  for  the  ancient  au- 
gurj'  of  the  pagans,  in  the  several  sorts  of  it,  how  much 
was  it  had  in  contempt  by  the  wiser  among  themselves. 
Insomuch  that  one  of  them  says,  he  wondered  how  they 
could  look  upon  one  another,  and  not  laugh.  As  who 
would  nor,  that  such  strange  things  should  be  foreshown 
by  the  flying,  or  the  singing,  or  the  feeding  of  birds! 
Their  usual  haruspicy  was  as  wise,  and  as  much  regard- 
ed b)'  some  greater  minds  among  them,  as  Alexander^ 
that  reproved  and  jeered  the  impertinency  of  his  sooth- 
sayer that  would  have  withheld  him  from  action,  upon  the 
pretence  of  some  ill  omen  he  had  observed  in  the  entrails: 
telling  him  that  he  "  would  surely  think  he  were  impertinent 
and  troublesome  if  he  should  go  about  to  interrupt  him 
in  his  employment,  when  he  was  busy  viewing  his  sacri- 
fice, and  a.sked  him,  when  he  pressed  further,  what  greater 
impediment  a  man  could  have,  that  had  great  things  he- 
fore  his  eyes,  than  a  doting  superstitious  fortune-teller 7 
And  where  there  was  not  so  much  wisdom  and  fortitude, 
as  to  despise  such  fooleries,  how  ludicrous  was  it  that 
great  and  momentous  affairs  were  to  be  governed  by  thcmJ 
That  a  general  was  not  to  march  an  army  or  fight  a  battlei, 
but  first  such  observations  must  be  had  of  the  flight  of 
birds,  and  the  entrails  of  beasts!  or  other  things  as  idle  as 
they,  as  the  whirlings,  rollings,  and  noise  of  rivers,  the 
change  of  the  moon,  &c.  Upon  which,  in^  Germany  (as 
is  observed)  -when  Ctesar  had  invaded  it,  their  presaging 
women  were  to  be  consulted  before  it  was  thought  fit  to 
give  him  battle.  Besides,  what  was  not  >'  less  vain,  bitt 
more  horrid,  presaging  upon  the  convulsed  members,  and 
the  flowing  blood,  "of  a  man  slain  for  the  purpose.  Nay, 
and  the  excess  of  this  desire  hath  templed  some  to  try  the 
blacker  purposes  of  necromancy,  or  what  might  be  gained 
to  satisfv  and  please  it,  by  converse  with  departed  souls ; 
or  Avhat"  if  it  be  other  familiar  spirits  1  We  here  consider 
the  folly  of  such  courses  apart  from  the  impiety.  As 
what  reason  have  we  upon  which  to  apprehend,  that  they 
can  ascertain  us,  or  be,  ordinarilv,  certain  themselves  of 
such  futurities  as  we  speak  of  ■]  But  also  the  thought  of 
anv  such  course  we  are  to  presume  is  horrid  to  the  minds 
of  serious  Christians.  Unto  whom,  what  we  find  in  the 
Holy  Scriptures,  concerning  any  such  ways  of  presaging 
as  have  been  mentioned,  should,  methinks,  be  enough  to 
form  their  spirits  both  to  the  hatred  and  the  contempt  of 
them,  and,  bv  consequence,  of  the  principle  itself  (this 
vain  appetite)  that  leads  unto  them,  and  hath  captivated 
X  clem.  Alexand.  Strom.  1.  1.  y  Dii.il.  Sic.  Bibl  Hist  I.  b. 


S46 


ON  THE  IMMODERATE  DESIRE 


whole  nations  into  so  miseraole  delusion  by  them.'  Thus 
saith  the  Lord  thy  Redeemer,  that  Irustrateth  the  tokens 
of  the  liars,  and  maketh  diviners  mad,  that  turneth  the 
wise  men  backward,  and  maketh  their  knowledge  foolish. 
^  Thou  art  wearied  in  the  multitude  of  thy  counsels;  let 
now  the  astrologers,  the  stax^-gazers,  the  monthly  prognos- 
ticators  stand  up,  and  save  thee  from  these  things  that 
shall  come  upon  thee.  Behold,  they  shall  be  as  stubble, 
the  fire  shall  burn  them  ;  they  shall  not  deliver  themselves 
from  the  flame,  &c.  See  also  Isa.  viii.  19,  20.  Dan.  ii.  27. 
And  though  it  be  true  that  God  hath  often  given  pre- 
monitions of  future  things  by  dreams,  (which  is  a  matter 
that  belongs  not  to  this  head,)  yet  the  rules  that  are  given 
by  some  lean-.  ::d  men  for  the  interpreting  of  ij  such  dreams 
as  contain  not  the  things  expressly  pretended  to  be  signi- 
fied, are  generally  so  very  ridiculous,  that  'tis  hard  to  say 
■whether  they  were  learnedly  busy  or  idle  that  thought  fit 
to  trouble  themselves  or  the  world  with  them.  And 
surely,  though  some  dreams  have  been  divine,  such  rules 
of  interpreting  any  are  so  meanly  human,  as  to  be  fit 
enough  to  be  thrown  in  hither,  and  tlirown  away  with  the 
rest  of  the  trash  noted  before;  and  may  help  to  let  us 
see,  that  the  foreknowledge  of  the  future  things  we  are 
considering,  is  so  impossible  to  human  nature,  improved 
by  whatsoever  rules  and  precepts  of  our  devising,  that 
while  men  seek  to  become  wise  in  this  kind,  by  such 
means,  they  do  but  befool  themselves,  and  are  not  a  whit 
the  more  knowing,  but  show  themselves  the  less  prudent 
and  sober.  And  if  such  knowledge  be  a  thing  wlicreof 
human  nature,  by  itself,  is  not  capable,  to  be  impatient  of 
ignorance  in  these  things,  is  to  be  offended  that  God  hath 
made  such  creatures  as  we  find  we  are.  That  is,  if  this 
had  been  the  natural  endowment  of  some  other  order  of 
creatures,  how  unreasonable  were  it  that  a  man  should 
quarrel  with  his  own  nature,  and  with  the  inseparable  cir- 
cumstances of  his  own  state !  All  creatures  are  of  limited 
natures  to  one  or  other  particular  kind.  This  or  that 
creature  admits  of  all  the  perfections  of  its  own  kind. 
It  admits  not  those  of  another  kind.  How  foolish  were 
it  if  a  man  should  vex  himself  that  he  cannot  fly  like  a 
bird,  or  run  like  a  stag,  or  smell  like  a  hound  ;  or  cannot 
as  an  angel  fly,  at  pleasure,  between  heaven  and  earth,  or 
visit  the  several  orbs,  and  exactly  measure  their  magni- 
tudes and  distances  from  one  another  ! 

Secondly,  We  are,  therefore,  to  consider  that  the  alTec- 
talion  of  such  foreknowledge  (i.  e.  to  have  it  in  and  of 
ourselves,  or  by  any  means  of  our  devising)  is  unlavjful  as 
well  as  impossible.  Indeed,  this  might  be  collected  from 
the  former;  for  the  capacity  of  our  natures  ought  to  limit 
our  desires.  And  it  hence  also  further  appears  unlawful 
upon  the  higliest  account,  in  that  it  were  to  aspire  to  what 
is  most  peculiar  and  appropriate  to  the  Deity.  For  here- 
by the  great  God  deiuonstrates  his  Godhead,  and  expo.s- 
tulating  wiih  idolaters,  insults  over  the  unactive  ignorance 
of  their  impotent  inanimate  deities  upon  this  account. 
<=  Produce  your  cause,  (saith  he,)  bring  forth  your  strong 
reasons.  Let  them  bring  them  forth,  and  show  us  what 
shall  happen.  Show  the  things  that  are  to  come  hereafter, 
tliat  we  may  know  that  ye  are  gods:  q.  d.  if  they  be  gods, 
why  do  they  not,  as  gods,  predict  things  to  come,  that  if 
they  be  gods  we  may  know  it "?  So  in  ch.  xlii.  of  the  same 
prophecy,  r.  8,  9.  I  am  the  Lord,  that  is  my  name,  and 
my  glory  will  I  not  give  to  another,  neither  my  praise  to 
graven  images.  Behold,  the  former  things  are  come  to 
pass,  and  new  things  do  I  declare  :  before  they  spring 
forth  I  tell  3'ou  of  them.  This  is  a  thing  (saith  he)  that 
doth  peculiarly  belong  to  me.  It  is  a  glory  of  mine  that 
shall  never  be  imparted.  And  to  the  same  sense  is  that 
in  ch.  xlvi.  of  that  prophecy,  v.  9,  10.  Remember  the 
former  things  of  old,  for  I  amGod,  and  there  is  none  else; 
I  am  God,  and  there  is  none  like  me,  declaring  the  end 
from  the  beginning,  and  from  ancient  times  the  things 
that  are  not  yet  done,  saying,  my  counsel  shall  stand,  and 
I  will  do  all  my  pleasure.  So  also  did  our  blessed 
Saviour,  when  he  had  a  mind  to  convince  that  he  was,  as 
he  gave  out,  the  Son  of  God,  design  the  same  medium  for 
that  purposed  Now,  I  tell  you  before  it  come,  that  when 
it  is  come  to  pass,  ye  may  believe  that  I  am  he.     And 


again,'  I  have  told  you  before  it  is  come  to  pass,  that  when 
it  is  come  to  pass,  ye  might  believe.  It  was,  indeed,  the 
great  temptation  used  to  our  first  parents  ;  You  shall  be  as 
gods,  knowing  good  and  evil.  Undoubtedly  that  know- 
ledge wherewith  they  were  tempted  must  include,  at  least, 
foreknowledge  in  it.  You  shall  be  as  gods,  knowing,  &c. 
They  were  tempted  by  an  expectation  of  being,  in  this 
respect,  made  like  God;  and  we  are  become  by  it,  in  this 
respect,  like  beasts  that  perish,  and  in  other  respects,  like 
the  devils  themselves,  who  joy  in  our  deception  and  perdi- 
tion ;  too  like  beasts  in  ignorance,  and  devils  in  malignity. 

What  can  be  a  more  presumptuous  arrogance,  than  to 
aim  at  the  royalties  of  the  Godhead  !  If  to  affect  what  be- 
longs to  the  nature  and  capacity  of  another  creature  were 
foolish;  to  aspire  to  any  prerogative  and  peculiarity  of 
God  himself,  cannot  but  be  extremely  impious  and  wicked  ! 
Are  we  to  be  offended  that  we  are  creatures  1  that  our  na- 
tures, and  the  capacity  of  our  understandings,  are  not  un- 
limited and  all-comprehending,  when  we  owe  it  to  the 
mere  benignity  and  good  pleasure  of  our  Maker  that  we 
are  anything  i  and  much  more,  that  we  have  any  such 
thing  as  an  understanding  at  all  1  Yea,  and  if  this  know- 
ledge were  not  peculiar  to  God,  yet  inasmuch  as  he  hath 
not  given  it  us,  nor  appointed  us  any  means  of  attaining 
it,  'tis  an  uncreaturely  disposition  not  to  be  satisfied  with- 
out it.  The  rebuke  our  Saviour  gave  his  disciples  in  one 
particular  case  of  this  nature,  ought  also  to  be  monitory 
to  us,  in  all  such  cases,  i.  e.  when  they  inquire, f  Wilt  thou 
at  this  time  restore  again  the  kingdom  to  Israel  1  His 
answer  is  reprehensive  ;=  It  is  not  lor  you  to  know  the 
times  or  the  seasons  which  the  Father  hath  put  in  his  own 
power.  The  expression  is  remarkable,  which  the  Father 
hath  h  put  in  his  own  power  ;  it  implies,  as  if,  by  a  positive 
act,  God  had  reserved,  and  locked  up  from  us,  the  things 
which  he  hath  not  vouchsafed  to  reveal.  And  we  may 
see  how  he  hath,  as  it  were,  industriously  drawn  a  curtain 
between  the  present  and  the  future  time,  that  we  cannot 
see  so  far  as  one  moment  before  us.  Shall  we  with  rude 
and  irreverent  hands,  as  it  were,  attempt  to  rend  or  draw 
aside  the  curtain  1 

2dly.  And  from  hence  we  may  also  see,  in  the  next 
place,  how  little  encouragement  we  have  in  the  other  way 
to  expect  this  knowledge,  viz.  by  supplicating  God  for  it, 
as  an  extraordinary  gift  to  be  obtained  immediately  from 
him.  If  we  have  not  wisdom  enough  to  present  unto  him 
reasonable  desires,  we  may  expect  his  wisdom  will  deny 
us  such  as  are  unreasonable.  He  is  never  so  apt  to  dis- 
like our  requests  for  their  being  too  great  as  too  little;  or 
for  their  having  nothing  valuable  or  important  in  them, 
nothing  suitable  to  him  or  to  us,  fit  for  him  to  give,  or  for 
us  to  seek  or  receive.  In  the  present  case,  'tis  true,  he 
hath  sometimes  favoured  men  with  this  kind  of  know- 
ledge, ordained  and  inspired  prophets,  who  were  to  sig- 
nifv  his  purposes  and  pleasure  to  others.  But  it  was 
rather  modestly  declined  than  sought ;  and  was,  mostly, 
upon  great  and  important  occasions,  for  high  and  very 
considerable  ends,  and  to  be  effected  at  seasons  and  by 
persons  of  his  own  choosing.  Nor  doth  it  seem  a  thing 
fit  for  men  to  make  the  matter  of  petition.  For  if  they 
should,  either  it  must  be  for  some  peculiar  to  them- 
selves, and  which  others  cannot  generally  allege  as  well 
as  they ;  which  it  is  not  supposable  any  can  be  able 
lo  assign:  or  for  some  common  reason  that  concerns  the 
generality  of  men  as  much.  And  then,  we  are  sure,  it 
can  be  of  no  weight ;  for,  upon  the  same  reason,  all 
should,  as  much,  be  prophets.  Which  it  is  plain  he  doth 
not  judge  fit  (who  can  best  judge)  in  that  he  hath  not 
made  them  so,  which  is  concluding,  as  to  things  he  hath 
not  made  it  our  duty  to  seek.  And  that  this  is  a  com- 
munication not  fit  to  be  constant  and  general  at  all  times, 
and  to  all  persons,  is  evident  in  itself  And  may  appear 
by  divers  considerations  that  partly  respect  God  and  his 
government,  partly  ourselves  and  our  own  interest  and 
concernment. 

1.  On  God's  part.  It  would  greatly  detract  from  the 
majesty  of  his  government  that  it  should  have  no  arcana, 
and  that  all  things  should  lie  open  to  every  eye.  We 
may   easily   apprehend   that  the   dignity  of   the   divine 


7.  Isa.  xliv.  2.T. 

b  Oneirocrit.  Arfem.  Achm.  <tc. 


a  Isa.  xlvii.  13,  14. 
c  Isa.  xli.  21,  22,  23. 


d  John  xiii.  19. 
f  Acts  i.  6. 


e  Ctiap.  xiv.  29. 
g  Ver.  7. 


h  eOcTO. 


OF  KNOWING  THINGS  TO  COME. 


347 


government  was,  in  this  respect,  designed  to  be  kept  up  to 
an  awful  height,  when  we  lind  there  is  somewhat  men- 
tioned to  us  (and  how  many  things  more  may  there  be 
that  are  not  mentioned  1)  which  the  angels  in  hea^'^en  knew 
not,  nor  the  human  soul  of  our  Lord  himself,  but  the  Fa- 
ther only.  For  again,  was  it  suitable  (particularly)  to  the 
government  of  God  over  man,  in  this  present  state,  which 
we  find  designed  for  a  state  of  probation,  to  be  concluded, 
and  shut  up  at  last  by  a  solemn  judgment.  For  unto  this 
state,  the  final  judgment  hath  its  peculiar,  only  reference. 
Therein  i  we  are  to  receive  the  things  done  in  the  body, 
i.  e.  (as  'lis  explained,)  according  to  what  we  have  done, 
whether  good  or  evil.  How  unfit  were  it  that  probationers 
for  eternity  should  generally  foreknow  events  that  shall 
fall  out  in  the  state  of  their  trial !  Wherein  they  are  to  be 
strictly  tied  up  to  rules  without  regard  to  events.  And  are 
to  approve  themselves  in  that  sincerity,  constancy,  forti- 
tude, dependence  upon  God,  resignation  of  themselves,  and 
their  concerns  to  him,  that  could  have  little  i)lace  or  op- 
portunity to  show  themselves,  in  a  state  wherein  all  things 
were  at  a  certainty  to  them. 

2.  On  our  own  part.  It  is  to  be  considered  that  the  fore- 
knowledge of  temporary  events  is  not  a  thing  of  that  value 
to  us,  which  we  may  perhaps  imagine  it  is.  It  would  serve 
us  more  for  curiosity  than  use.     An  unfit  thing  for  us  to 

Eetition  in,  or  expect  to  be  gratified.  The  wiser  heathens 
ave  thought  meanly  of  it.  They  have  believed,  indeed, 
that  God  did  sometimes  enable  men  to  prophesy,  but  have 
reckoned  it,  as  one  of  them  speaks,  a  gift  indulged  unto 
human  imprudence.  That  k  author  accounts  weaker  minds 
the  usual  subjects  of  it.  That  no  man  in  his  right  viinA 
attained  it,  but  either  being  alienated  from  himself,  by 
sleep  or  a  disease.  And  that  they  were  not  wont  to  under- 
stand, themselves,  the  meaning  of  their  own  visions,  but 
must  have  them  interpreted  by  others.  The  result  of  a 
larger  discourse,  he  hath  about  it,  than  is  fit  here  to  be  in- 
serted, comes  to  this,  that  fools  divine,  and  wi.se  must 
judge.  Whereupon  ■  another  thinks  such  prophecies  little 
to  be  regarded,  counting  it  strange  that  what  a  wise  man 
could  not  see  a  madman  should.  And  that  when  one  hath 
lost  human  sense  he  should  obtain  divine  ! 

They  were  not  acquainted  indeed  with  those  ways  where- 
in God  revealed  his  mind  to  holy  men  whom  he  used  as 
his  own  amanuenses  or  penmen,  or  who  were  otherwise  to 
serve  him  for  sacred  purposes.  But  when  we  consider 
Balaam's  being  a  prophet,  methinks  we  should  not  be 
overfond  of  the  thing  itself,  abstractly  considered.  How 
unspeakably  is  the  Spirit  of  holiness,  as  such,  to  be  pre- 
ferred !  To  have  a  heart  subject  to  God,  willing  to  be  go- 
verned bj'  him,  to  commit  to  him,  even  in  the  dark,  our 
less  considerable,  temporal  concernments ;  and  confident!}- 
to  rely,  for  our  eternal  concernments,  upon  his  plain 
word  in  the  Gospel,  wherein  life  and  immortalitj'  are 
brought  to  light,  would  make  us  little  feel  the  need  of  pro- 
phecy. The  radical  principle  of  holiness  is  love,  (for  it 
is  the  fulfilling  of  the  law,)  in  the  absence  whereof,  the 
apostle  ">  esteems  the  gift  of  prophecy  (with  the  addition 
of  understanding  all  mysteries,  and  all  knowledge)  to  go 
for  nothing.  And  if  we  strict!}^  consider,  wherein  can  we 
pretend  it  needful  to  us  to  foreknow  the  events  that  are  be- 
fore us  1  They  are  either  bad  and  ungrateful,  or  good  and 
grateful.  For  the  former  sort,  what  would  it  avail  us  to 
foreknow  them  1  That  we  may  avoid  them  ?  That  is  a 
contradiction.  How  are  thej'  avoidable,  when  we  know 
they  will  befall  us "?  It  is  that  we  be  not  surprised  by  them  1 
We  have  other  means  to  prevent  it.  To  bear  an  equal 
temper  of  mind  towards  all  conditions-,  to  live  always,  in 
this  region  of  changes,  expecting  the  worst.  At  least  not 
to  expect  rest  on  earth,  to  familiarize  to  ourselves  the 
thoughts  of  troubles ;  apprehending,  as  to  those  that  are 
private,  we  are  always  liable. 

And  for  any  greater,  common  calamities  that  we  may 
share  in  with  the  generality  usually,  they  come  on  more 
slowly.  There  often  are  premonitory  tokens,  such  as 
were  before  mentioned  in  this  discourse,  sufficient  to  keep 
us  from  being  surprised.  And  with  the  rest  this  may  con- 
cur, (as  was  said,)  that  perhaps  some  or  other,  of  that 
value  and  consideration  as  to  deserve  our  regard,  may,  in 

i  2  Cor.  V.  10. 

k  'ils  fiavTiKijv  afpoovvtjt  Scot  avBpurivrji  cScSomev,  ovicis  cvvov{. 


such  a  case,  have  great  apprehensions  of  approaching 
trouble,  which  whether  they  proceed  from  their  greater 
prudence  and  sagacity,  or  from  any  more  Divine  impres- 
sion upon  their  minds,  we  need  not  determine.  If  it  should 
be  the  latter,  the  design  may  yet  be,  not  to  ascertain,  but  to 
awaken  us.  Upon  which  supposition,  a  serious  considera- 
tion of  the  thing,  may  well  consist  with  suspending  our 
belief  of  it.  And  whether  it  prove  true  or  false,  if  we  are 
put  thereby  upon  the  doing  of  nothing,  but  what  a  prudent 
man,  a  good  Christian  should  do,  however,  and  unto  which 
we  only  needed  excitation,  a  very  valuable  end  is  gained. 
Affairs  are  generally  managed  in  human,  yea  and  in  the 
Christian  life,  upon  no  certainty  of  this  or  that  particular 
ev-ent ;  'lis  enough  that  we  are  put  upon  seasonable  consi- 
deration of  what  concerns  us,  in  the  one  kind  or  the  other, 
and  do  accordingly  steer  our  course.  When  Jonah  was 
sent  to  Nineveh  upon  that  ungrateful  errand,  and  came  a 
stranger  into  that  luxurious,  paganish  citj-,  though  he 
brought  them  no  credentials  from  heaven,  nor  (that  we 
find)  wrought  any  miracle  to  confirm  his  mission,  yet  the 
matter  he  published  in  the  streets  being  in  itself  most  con- 
siderable, and  they  having  (no  doubt)  sufficient  light  to 
know  their  practices  were  such  as  deserved  the  doom  they 
were  threatened  with,  and  needed  redress,  they  hereufxai 
consider  w-hat  he  said,  reform,  and  are  spared.  And  what 
harm  wa.s  now  dune  in  all  thisl  except  that  Jonah  had  too 
tender  a  concern  for  his  own  reputation,  and  lest  he  should 
be  thought  a  false  prophet.  Whereas  the  event  that  hap- 
pened did  better  prove  the  impression  vpon  his  mind  di- 
vine, than  the  desirticlion  of  the  citj-,  alter  their  repent- 
ance, had  done.  It  being  a  thing  more  agreeable  to  the 
Divine  nature,  and  more  worthy  of  God,  to  save  than  de- 
stroy a  penitent  people.  If  we  see  no  such  disposition  to 
repentance,  we  have  the  more  reason  to  expect  the  over- 
flowing calamity  ;  and  have  enoirgh  to  prevent  our  heing 
surpiised,  without  fore-knowing  the  event.  Bui  for  events 
that  are  pleasing  and  grateful,  no  matter  how  surprising 
they  be;  the  more,  the  better,  the  sweeter,  and  the  plea- 
santer.  "  When  God  turned  again  the  captivity  of  Zioa 
we  were  as  them  that  dream.  Then  was  our  mouth  filled 
with  laughter,  and  our  tongue  wi'Ji  singing.  It  enhanceih 
mercy,  Avhen  it  is  preventing  and  unexpected. 

And  we  maj'  add,  concerning  ill  e\-ents,  it  is  not  only 
needless  to  foreknow  them,  but  better  to  be  ignorant. 
Think  what  a  case  we  were  in,  had  we  the  prospect  lying 
distinctly  before  us,  of  all  the  evils  that  shall  befall  us 
through  our  whole  life.  Such  a  day  I  shall  have  a  terrible 
fit  of  the  colic  or  the  stone.  Such  a  day  my  house  will  be 
burnt,  or  I  shall  be  undone  and  reduced  to  beggary.  Such 
a  day  my  husband,  wife,  or  this  or  that  pleasant  child,  will 
die.  At  such  a  time  I  shall  break  a  bone,  or  be  in  pri- 
stm,  &c.  Were  this  knowledge  a  felicity  ?  Some  may 
think  (says  Cicero")  it  were  of  great  concernment  to  us 
to  know  what  shall  happen.  But  (he  adds)  Dicsearchus 
wrote  a  great  book  to  show  it  is  better  to  be  ignorant.  He 
had  indeed  a  copious  argument,  and  the  book,  'lis  like, 
were  a  jewel.  But  enough  is  obvious  to  any  man's  reason 
that  will  soberly  consider.  Infinite  knowledge  is  only 
agreeable  to  infinite  wisdom  and  power.  How  imsuitable 
were  the  knowledge  we  are  apt  locov«t,  to  our  impotency 
and  imprudence  !  As  monstrous  as  the  head  of  a  giant 
joined  to  the  body  of  a  child.  The  increase  of  such  know- 
ledge would  certainly  but  increase  our  sorrow,  and  be  to 
us  but  an  engine  of  torture,  a  Medusa's  head,  always  af- 
frighting us  with  its  own  ideas,  that  w-ould  be  worse  t<j 
us,  and  more  tormenting,  than  snakes  and  serpents.  Di- 
vine mercy,  in  these  respects,  keeps  us  ignorant.  Thereto 
'tis  fit  we  should  attribute  it,  not  to  ill-will,  as  the  devil  at 
first  suggested,  and  as  they  seemed  to  apprehend  ;  against 
whom  Plutarch  p  sagely  reasons.  That  it  was  ver^-  impro- 
bable that  God,  who  hath  given  us  birth,  nourishment, 
being,  and  understanding,  should  intend  only  to  signify 
his  displeasure  towards  us,  by  withholding  from  us  the 
knowledge  of  things  to  come.  Would  we  know  what 
concerns  our  duty  ?  We  have  plain  rules  to  direct  us ;  it 
would  but  tempt,'disturb,  or  divert  us  many  times  to  know 
the  event.  You  need  not  consult  a  diviner,  (saith  a  i  hea- 
then,) whether  you  are  with  hazard  to  help  your  friend, 

I  Cicero.  m  1  Cor.  xiii  n  Psal   Mxvi. 

o  De  divin.  p  De  defect.  Orac.  q  Epictet 


348 


ON  THE  IMMODERATE  DESIRE,  &c. 


or  defend  your  country.  Nor  any  thing,  by  like  reason, 
which  we  already  know  we  ought  to  do.  No  more,  '■  saitli 
one  commenting  upon  him,  than  whether  a  man  should 
eat  or  sleep  ;  or  whether  a  husbandman  should  plant  or 
sow.  Or  would  we  fill  our  minds  with  great  thoughts, 
and  employ  them  about  matters  more  important  than  the 
affairs  of  the  present  time  1  Besides  all  the  great  things 
that  we  know  to  be  past,  let  us  look  forward  to  certain  fu- 
turities. We  may  look  even  with  a  certain  expectation 
for  the  day  when  the  heavens  shall  be  rolled  up  as  a  scroll, 
and  pass  away  with  great  noise,  and  the  elements  melt 
with  fervent  heat,  and  the  earth  and  all  things  therein  be 
consumed  and  burnt  up.  "We  have  a  certain  foreknow- 
ledge of  the  final  glorious  appearing  and  coming  of  our 
Lord.  We  know  he  will  come,  and  it  will  be  gloriously. 
Behold  the  Son  of  man  coming  in  the  heavens  with  power 

r  Simplic. 


and  great  glory  !  Such  things  as  these  we  look  for  accord- 
ing to  his  promise  ;  He  will  come  and  his  reward  with  him. 
The  trumpet  will  sound  and  the  dead  arise.  How  great  a 
thing  it  is  to  have  graves  opening  all  the  world  over,  and 
men  and  women  springing  up  afresh  out  of  the  dust !  and 
all  the  chosen  ones  of  our  Lord  caught  up  into  the  clouds, 
to  meet  their  Redeemer  in  the  air,  and  so  to  be  for  ever 
with  the  Lord  !  Let  our  thoughts  fly  over  earth  and  time ; 
they  will  be  purer  and  less  tainted.  Let  them  centre  in 
God;  they  will  be  more  steady,  composed,  and  calm.  Fix- 
edly apprehend  him  to  be  most  wise,  holy,  good,  powerful, 
and  ours.  Let  our  hearts  quietly  trust  in  him  as  such, 
and  be  subject  to  him  ;  contented  to  follow.  ^  He  will  lead 
the  blind  in  a  way  that  they  know  not ;  and  if  we  betake 
ourselves  wholly  to  him,  will  be  our  God  for  ever  and 
ever  :  our  God  and  our  guide  even  to  the  death. 

e  Isa.  xlii. 


A  TREATISE  OF 

DELIGHTING   IN   GOD; 

FROM  PSALM  XXXVIL  4. 

DELIGHT  THYSELF  ALSO  IN  THE  LORD,  AND  HE  SHALL  GIVE  THEE  THE  DESIRES  OF  THINE  HEART. 

IN  TWO  PARTS. 


TO  MY  MUCH  VALUED  FRIENDS, 

THE    MAGISTRATES    AND   OTHER   INHABITANTS 

OF  GREAT  TORRINGTON  IN  DEVON; 

WITH  THE   SEVERAL  V^ORTIIY  AND  RELIGIOUS   PERSON'S  AND  PAMLIES  OF  MY  ACaUAlNTANCE   IN  THOSE  PARTS. 

It  is  likely  that  the  title  of  the  following  treatise  will  put  many  of  you,  my  dearly  esteemed  friends,  in  mind, 
that  sundry  sermons  were  preached  twenty  years  ago  among  you  upon  this  subject.  I  had  it  indeed  in  design,  to 
have  given  you  some  abstract  of  those  sermons;  but  searching  among  my  papers,  could  find  none  but  so  imperfect  and 
broken  memorials  as  would  be  of  little  use  for  that  purpose.  And  yet  being  desirous  to  present  you  with  .-omewliat 
that  might  both  be  a  testimony  of  my  affection,  and  an  advantage  to  you;  and  knowing  this  subject  was  grateful  to 
many,  and  affords  what  may  be  u.seful  to  all  of  )aiu ;  I  have,  for  your  sakes,  applied  myself  to  a  reconsideration  of  it. 
The  first  part  is  even  altogether  new,  except  the  inlroductive  suppo.sitions  in  the  beginning.  Nor  do  I  remember  I  then 
had  more  than  one  discourse  to  you  on  that  subject,  before  the  practical  application  of  it.  The  oilier  part  contains 
many  things  formerly  delivered  to  you,  though  perhaps  not  in  the  same  order,  much  less  in  the  same  words, 
whereto  the  short  notes  in  my  hands  could  no  way  enable  me. 

The  matter  here  treated  of,  is  the  very  substance  of  religion  ;  the  first  and  the  la.st;  the  root  and  the  flower;  both  the 
basis  and  foundation,  and  the  top  and  perfection,  of  practical  godliness ;  and  which  runs  through  the  whole  of  it. 
Nor  knew  I  therefore  what  to  present  you  with,  that  could  have  in  it  a  fitter  mixture  and  temperament  of  what  might 
be  both  useful  and  pleasant  to  you.  As  there  is  therefore  no  need,  so  nor  do  I  desire  you  should  receive  the  matter 
here  discoursed  of,  merely  for  my  sake  ;  there  being  so  great  reason  it  should  be  chiefly  acceptable  on  higher  accounts. 
I  do  very  well  understand  your  affection  to  me;  and  could  easily  be  copious  iu  the  expression  of  mine  to  you,  if  I 
would  open  that  sluice.  But  I  do  herein  resolvedly,  and  upon  consideration,  restrain  myself;  apprehending  thai  in 
some  cases  (and  I  may  suppose  it  possible  that  in  our  case)  a  gradual  mortification  ought  to  be  endeavoured  of  such 
affection  as  is  often  between  those  so  related  as  you  and  I  have  been :  which  is  no  harder  supposition,  than  that  such 
affection  may  be  excessive  and  swell  beyond  due"  bounds.  So  it  would,  if  it  should  be  accompanied  with  impatient 
resentments  towards  any  providence  or  instrument,  wliereby  it  finds  itself  crossed,  or  from  whence  it  meets  wi:h  what 
is  ungrateful  to  it :  if  it  prove  turbulent  and  disquieting  to  them  in  whom  it  is,  or  any  others :  or  if  it  occasion  a  lonk- 
ing  back  with  distempered  lintrerings  after  such  former  things  as  could  be  but  means  to  our  great  end,  with  the  neg- 
lect of  looking  forward  to  that  end  itself  still  before  us.  Far  be  it  from  me,  to  aim  at  the  keeping  any  tliin?  alive 
-hat  ought  to  die;  that  is,  in  that  degree  wherein  it  ought  so  to  do.  But  our  mutual  affection  will  be  both  innoceui. 
and  useful,  if  it  be  suitable  to  mortal  objects,  and  to  persons  not  expecting  the  converse  we  have  had  together  any  more 
m  this  world  ;  if  also  in  the  mean  time  it  preserve  to  us  a  mutual  interest  in  each  others  prayers;  if  it  dispose  us  to 
such  acts  and  apprehensions  of  kindness  as  our  present  circumstauces  can  admit ;  and  if  particularly,  as  it  hath  moved 
me  to  undertake,  it  may  conlribu:e  any  thing  to  your  acceptance  of,  this  small  labour,  which  is  now  desisrned  for  you. 
The  subject  and  substance  whereof,  as  they  are  none  of  mine,  so  they  ought  to  be  welcome  to  you,  for  their  own  sake, 
and  his  who  is  the  prime  Author,  though  they  were  recommended  to  yon  by  the  hand  of  a  stranger,  or  one  whose 
face  you  never  saw.  Thcv  aim  at  the  promoting  of  the  same  end  which  the  course  of  my  poor  labours  among  you 
did,  (as  he  that  knoweth  all  lhin'j:s  knoweth.)  the  serious  practice  of  the  great  things  of  religion,  which  are  known  and 
least  liable  to  (piestion  ;  without  designing  to  engage  you  to  or  against  any  party  of  them  that  differ  about  circumstan- 
.ial  matters.  They  tend  to  let  you  see,  that  formality  in  any  way  of  religion  unaccompanied  with  life,  will  not  serve 
your  turn;  (as  it  will  no  man's;)  than  which,  there  is  nothing  more  empty,  sapless,  and  void  both  of  profit  and  delight. 

I  have  reflected  and  considered  with  some  satisfaction,  that  this  hath  been  my  way  and  the  temper  of  my  mmd 
among  you.  Great  reason  I  have  to  repent,  that  I  have  not  with  greater  earnestness  pressed  upon  you  the  known  and 
important  things  wherein  serious  Christians  do  generally  agree.  But  I  repent  not  I  have  been  so  little  engaged  in  the 
hot  contests  of  our  age,  about  the  things  wherein  theydiflfer.  For,  as  I  pretend  to  little  light  in  these  things;  (whence 
I  could  not  have  much  confidence  to  fortify  me  unto  such  an  undertaking  ;)  so  I  must  profess  to  have  little  inclination 
to  contend  about  matters  of  that  kind.  Nor  yet  am  I  indifl^erent  as  to  those  smaller  things,  that  I  cannot  discern  to  be 
in  their  own  nature  so.  But  though  I  cannot  avoid  to  think  that  course  right  wiiieh  I  have  deliberately  chosen  therein, 
I  do  yet  esteem  that  but  a  small  thin°:  upon  which  to  ground  an  opinion  of  my  excelling  them  thai  think  otherwise,  as 
if  I  knew  more  than  thev.  For  I  have  often  recounteil  thus  seriously  with  myself,  that  of  everv  differiiigparty,  in  those 
circumstantial  matters,  t  do  particularly  know  some  persons  by  whom  I  find  myself  much  excelled  iu  far  gieatc  things 


350  DEDICATION. 

than  is  the  matter  of  that  difference.  I  cannot,  'tis  true,  thereupon  say  and  tliink  every  thing  that  they  do  ;  which  is 
impossible,  since  tliey  ditler  from  one  another  as  well  as  me.  And  I  understand  well,  there  are  other  measures  of 
truth  than  this  or  that  excellent  person's  opinion.  But  I  thereupon  reckon  I  have  little  reason  to  be  conceited  of  any 
advantage  I  have  of  such  in  point  of  knowledge,  (even  as  little  as  he  should  have,  that  can  sing  or  play  well  on  a  lute, 
of  him  that  knows  how  to  command  armies,  or  govern  a  kingdom,)  and  can  with  the  less  confidence  differ  from  them, 
or  contend  with  them.  Being  thereby,  though  I  cannot  find  that  I  err  in  these  matters,  constrained  to  have  some  sus- 
picion lest  I  do ;  and  to  admit  it  possible  enough,  that  some  of  them  who  differ  from  me,  having  much  more  light  in 
greater  matters  may  have  so  in  these  also.  Besides,  that  I  most  seriously  think,  humility,  charity,  and  patience, 
would  more  contribute  to  the  composing  of  these  lesser  differences,  or  to  the  good  estate  of  the  Christian  interest  under 
them,  than  the  most  fervent  disputes  and  contestations.  I  have  upon  such  considerations  little  concerned  myself  in 
contending  for  one  way  or  another,  while  I  was  among  you;  or  in  censuring  such  as  have  differed  from  me  in  such 
notions  and  practices  as  might  consist  with  our  common  great  end ;  or  as  imported  not  manifest  hostility  thereto :  con- 
tenting myself  to  follow  the  course  that  to  my  preponderating  judgment  seemed  best,  without  stepping  out  of  my  way 
to  justle  others. 

But  I  cannot  be  so  patient  of  their  practical  disagreement,  (not  only  with  all  serious  Christians,  but  even  their  own 
judgments  and  consciences  also,)  who  have  no  delight  in  God,  and  who  take  no  plea.sure  in  the  very  substance  of  re- 
ligion. I  have  been  grieved  to  observe  that  the  case  haih  too  apparently  seemed  so,  with  some  among  you  :  some 
who  have  been  openly  profane  and  dissolute,  and  expressed  more  contempt  of  God  (which  you  know  was  often  in- 
sisted on  the  one  part  of  the  day,*  when  I  had  this  subject  in  hand  the  other)  than  delight  in  him.  I  know  not  how  the 
case  may  be  altered  with  such  since  I  left  you;  or  what  blessing  may  have  followed  the  endeavoursof  any  other  hand. 
Death  I  am  sure  will  be  making  alterations,  as  I  have  heard  it  hath.  If  these  lines  maybe  beforehand  with  it,  may 
they  be  effectually  monitory  to  any  such  that  yet  survive  !  That  however  this  or  that  external  form  of  godliness  may 
consist  with  your  everlasting  well  being,  real  ungodliness  and  the  denial  of  the  power  never  can  ;  which  power  stands 
in  nothing  more  than  in  love  to  God  or  delight  in  him.  Therefore  seriously  bethink  yourselves,  do  you  delight  in  God 
or  nol  If  you  do,  methinks  you  should  have  some  perception  of  it.  Surely  if  you  delight  in  a  friend,  or  some  other 
outward  comfort,  you  can  perceive  it.  But  if  you  do  not,  what  do  you  think  alienation  from  the  life  of  God  will 
come  to  at  last?  It  is  time  for  you  to  pray  and  cry,  and  strive  earnestly  for  a  renewed  heart.  And  if  any  of  you  do 
in  some  degree  find  this,  yet  many  degrees  are  still  lacking.  You  cannot  delight  in  God,  but  upon  that  apprehension 
as  will  give  you  to  see,  you  do  it  not  enough :  therefore  reach  forth  to  what  is  still  before.  I  bow  my  knees  for  you 
all,  that  a  living,  delightful  religion  may  flourish  in  your  hearts  and  families,  instead  of  those  dry,  withered  things, 
worldliness,  formality,  and  strife  about  trifles.  Which  will  make  Torrington  an  Heph-zibah,  a  place  to  be  delighted 
in ;  your  country  a  pleasant  region;  and  (if  he  may  but  hear  of  it)  add  not  a  little  to  the  satisfaction  and  delight  of 

Your  affectionate  servant  in  Christ, 

Who  most  seriously  desires  your  true  prosperity, 

JOHN  HOWE. 

Antrim  Sept.  1,  1674. 

*  From  f».  X.  13. 


OF 

DELIGHTING    IN    GOD: 

FROM  PSALM  XXXVII.  4. 

DELIGHT  THYSELF  ALSO  IN  THE  LORD,  AND  HE  SHALL  GIVE  THEE  THE  DESIRES  OF  THINE  HEART. 


PART  I. 


SHOWING  THE  IMPORT  OF  THIS  PRECEPT. 


1'his  psalm,  by  the  contents  of  it,  seems  lo  suppose  an 
afflicted  state  of  good  men,  by  the  oppression  of  such  as 
were,  in  that  and  other  respects,  very  wicked  ;  the  pros- 
perity of  these  wicked  ones  in  their  oppressive  course  ;  an 
aptness  in  the  oppressed  to  impatience  under  the  evils 
they  suffered ;  a  disposition  to  behold,  with  a  lingering  and 
an  envious  eye,  the  good  things  which  their  oppressors  en- 
joyed, and  themselves  wanted.  Hence  the  composure  of 
it  is  such  as  might  be  most  agreeable  to  these  suppositions, 
and  servicable  to  the  fortifying  of  the  righteous  against  the 
sin  and  trouble  which  such  a  state  of  things  might  prove 
the  occasion  of  unto  them. 

This  verse  hath  a  more  direct  aspect  on  the  last  of  these 
cases,  or  on  this  last  mentioned  thing  considerable  in  the 
case,  of  upright  men  suffering  under  the  oppression  of 
violent  and  prosperous  wickedness,  viz.  that  they  might 
hereupon  be  apt  both  to  covet  and  en\-v'  the  worldly  de- 
lights of  their  enemies;  to  be  desirous  of  their  dainties, 
and  grudge  they  should  be  theirs,  who,  they  knew,  de- 
served worse  things ;  and  while  themselves  also  felt  the 
prcosure  of  worse,  which  at  their  hands  they  deserved  not. 
What  is  here  offered  to  the  consideration  of  the  sufferers, 
tends  aptly  to  allay  their  discontent,  to  check  and  repress 
their  inordinate  desire  towards  inferior  things ;  or  to 
divert  and  turn  it  another  way  ;  as  in  case  of  bleeding  to 
excess  and  danger,  the  way  is  to  open  a  vein,  and  stop  the 
course  of  that  profusion  by  altering  it.  As  if  it  had  been 
said,  "  You  have  no  such  cause  to  look  with  displeasure 
or  immoderate  desire  upon  their  delicacies  :  you  may 
have  better;  better  belong  to  you,  and  invite  you  ;  the 
Lord  himself  is  your  portion  ;  it  becomes  both  your  state 
and  spirit  to  apply  yourselves  to  a  holy  delight  in  him  ; 
lo  let  your  souls  loose,  and  set  them  at  liberty  to  satiate 
themselves,  and  feed  unto  fulness  those  undefiled  and 
satisfying  pleasures  unto  which  3^ou  have  a  right ;  and  in 
which  you  will  find  the  lo.'^s  and  want  of  their  meaner  en- 
joyments abundantly  made  up  unto  you.  You  have  your 
natural  desires  and  cravings  as  well  as  other  men,  and 
those  may  be  too  apt  to  exceed  their  just  bounds  and 
measures;  but  if  you  lake  this  course,  thej'  will  soon  be- 
come sober  and  moderate,  such  as  will  be  satisfied  with 
what  is  competent,  with  an  indifferent  allowance  of  the 
good  things  of  this  earth.  And  towards  the  Lord,  let 
them  be  as  vast  and  large  as  can  be  supposed ;  they  can 
never  be  larger  than  the  rule  will  allow,  nor  than  the  ob- 
ject will  satisfy  ;  the  direction  and  obligation  of  the  former 
being  indeed  proportioned  to  the  immense  and  boundless 
fulness  of  the  latter." 

We  need  not  operously  inquire  what  sort  of  persons  this 
direction  is  given  unto. '  It  is  plain,  that  it's  the  common 
duty  of  all  to  delight  in  God.  But  it  cannot  be  the  imme- 
diate duty  of  all.  Men  that  know  not  God,  and  are  ene- 
mies to  him,  have  somewhat  else  to  do  first.     Tliey  to 


whom  the  precept  is  directly  meant  are  the  regenerate,  tne 
righteous,  and  the  upright,  as  the  psalm  itself  doth  plainly 
design  them,  or  his  own  people.  The  most  profitable  way 
of  considering  these  words,  will  be  chiefly  to  insist  on  the 
direction  given  in  the  former  part  of  the  verse ;  and  then 
to  show  towards  the  close,  how  the  event  promised  in  the 
latter  part,  will  not  only  by  virtue  of  the  promise,  but 
even  naturally,  follow  thereupon.  The  direction  in  the 
former  part,  gives  us  a  plain  signification  of  God's  good 
pleasure,  that  he  himself  would  be  the  great  object  of  his 
people's  delight;  or,  it  is  his  will,  that  they  principally 
delight  themselves  in  him.  Our  discourse  upon  this  sub- 
ject will  fall  naturally  into  two  parts;  the  former  Avhereof 
will  concern  the  import,  the  latter  the  practice,  of  the  en- 
joined delighting  in  God.  Under  which  latter,  what  will 
be  said  of  the  latter  part  of  the  verse  will  filly  fall  in. 

That  we  may  more  distinctly  open  the  import  and  mean- 
ing of  delighting  in  God,  it  will  be  necessary  that  we 
treat,  I.  Of  the  delectable  object ;  2.  Of  the  delight  to  be 
taken  therein. 

I.  As  to  the  former.  The  general  object  of  delight  is 
some  good,  or  somewhat  so  conceived  of;  with  the  addi- 
tion of  being  apprehended  some  way  present.  Here  it  is 
the  chief  and  best  good,  the  highest  and  most  perfect  ex- 
cellency. Which  goodness  and  excellency,  considered  as 
residing  in  God,  give  us  a  twofold  notion  or  view  of  the 
object  whereupon  this  delight  may  have  its  exercise,  viz. 
absolute  and  relative. 

1.  God  may  be  looked  upon  in  an  absolute  considera- 
tion, as  he  is  in  himself,  the  best  and  mo.st  excellent  Be- 
ing ;  wherein  we  behold  the  concurrence  of  all  perfec- 
tions; the  most  amiable  and  beauteous  excellencies,  to  an 
intellectual  eye,  that  it  can  have  any  apprehension  of 

2.  In  a  relative,  i-iz.  as  his  goodness  and  excellency  are 
considered,  not  merely  as  they  are  in  himself,  but  also  as 
having  some  way  an  aspect  on  his  creatures.  For  consider- 
ing him  as  in  himself  the  most  excellent  Being ;  if  here 
we  give  our  thoughts  liberty  of  exercising  themselves,  we 
shall  .soon  find,  that  hereupon  he  must  be  considered  also 
as  the  first  Being,  the  original  and  author  of  all  other 
beings;  otherwise  he  were  not  the  most  excellent.  From 
whence,  we  will  see,  relation  doth  arise  between  him  and 
his  creatures  that  have  their  being  from  him.  And  besides 
the  general  relations  which  he  beareth  to  them  all,  a5  the 
common  maker,  susiainer,  and  disposer  of  them ;  observing 
that  there  are  some  which,  by  their  reasonable  natures,  are 
capable  of  government  by  him  (in  the  proper  sense,  viz. 
by  a  law)  and  of  the  blessedness  in  him.  To  these  we  con- 
sider him  as  standing  in  a  twofold  reference,  in  both  which 
we  are  to  e3'e  and  act  towards  him,  viz.  as  a  Lord  to  be 
obeyed,  and  a  portion  to  be  enjoyed  ;  and  have  most  delect- 
able excellencies  to  take  notice  of  in  him,  (that  require  we 
should  suitably  comport  with  them,)  answerable  peculiarly 


352 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


PaI!T 


to  each  of  these  considerations,  in  respect  whereof  we  are 
to  look  upon  him. 

1.  As  the  most  excellent  Lord ;  most  deleclably  excel- 
lent, (we  take  not  here  that  title  so  stiiclly,  as  to  intend 
by  it  mere  propriety  or  dominion  ;  but  as  to  ordinary  ap- 
prehension it  is  more  commonly  understood  to  signify  also 
governing  po  iver,  or  authority  founded  in  the  other,)  whom 
we  cannot  but  esteem  worthy  of  all  possible  honour  and 
glory;  that  every  knee  bow  to  him,  and  every  tongue  con- 
fess to  him;  that  universal  homage,  subjection,  and  ado- 
ration, be  given  him  fir  ever. 

2.  As  the  most  excellent  Portion,  in  whom  all  things 
that  may  render  him  such  do  concur  and  meet  together; 
all  desirable  and  imaginable  riches  and  fulness,  together 
with  large  bnnnty,  flowing  goodness,  every  way  corres- 
pondent to  the  wants  and  cravings  of  indigent  and  thirsty 
souls.  The  former  notion  of  him  intimates  to  us  our  ob- 
ligation of  duty  to  him:  the  latter  prompts  to  an  expecta- 
tion of  benefit  from  him.  But  now,  because  by  the 
apostacy  we  have  injured  his  right  in  us,  as  our  Lord ; 
forfeited  our  own  right  in  him,  as  our  Portion  ;  and  lost 
our  immediate  capacity  or  disposition,  both  to  serve  and 
enjoy  him  ;  this  great  breach  between  him  and  us  was  not 
otherwise  to  be  made  up  but  by  a  mediator.  Unto  which 
office  and  undertaking  his  own  Son,  incarnate,  the  Word 
made  flesh,  (being  only  fit,)  was  designed.  By  him,  dealing 
between  both  the  distanced  parties,  satisfying  the  justice 
of  God,  overcoming  the  enmity  of  man,  the  difference  (so 
far  as  the  efficacy  of  his  mediation  doth  extend)  is  com- 
posed. And  to  the  reconciled,  God  becomes  again  their 
acknowledged  both  Lord  and  portion.  His  right  is  vindi- 
cated, theirs  is  restored ;  and  both  are  established  upon 
new  grounds,  added  to  those  upon  which  they  stood  be- 
fore. And  so,  as  that  now  our  actings  towards  God,  and 
expectations  from  him,  must  be  through  the  Mediator. 
Whereupon  this  object  of  our  delight,  considered  relative- 
ly unto  us,  is  entirely  God  in  Christ; — being  reconciled, 
— we  joy  in  God,  through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  by 
whom,  dtc.'"^ 

In  these  several  ways  that  have  been  thus  briefly  men- 
tioned, may  God  come  under  our  consideration.  Nor  are 
they,  any  of  them,  unapplicable  or  impertinent  to  our  pur- 
pose, when  we  would  design  him  the  object  of  our  delight. 
Yea,  and  surely  God  considered  each  of  these  ways  ought 
to  be  looked  on  by  us  as  a  most  delectable  object.  For  it 
is  pleasant  to  contemplate  him,  even  most  absolutely  con- 
sidered, as  the  most  excellent  Being,  when  we  behold  his 
glorious  excellencies  in  themselves  :  tliat  is  (not  with  the 
denial,  but)  without  tlie  actual  present  consideration  of 
any  advantage  that  may  redound  to  us  from  them;  as  we 
are  apt  to  fijid  ourselves  pleased  and  gratified  in  viewing 
an  excellent  object,  (suppose  a  stately  edifice  or  beautiful 
flower,)  from  which  we  expect  no  other  benefit. 

Again,  if  we  consider  him  relatively,  1.  In  the  former 
capacity  of  a  Lord,  it  is  grateful  to  behold  him  decked 
with  majesty,  arrayed  in  glory,  clothed  with  righteousness, 
armed  with  power,  shining  in  holiness,  and  guiding  him- 
self with  wisdom  and  counsel  in  all  his  administrations. 
Yea,  and  it  is  delightful  to  obey  him;  while  we  are  most 
fully  satisfied  of  his  unexceptionable  right  to  command  us. 
For  there  is  a  great  pleasure  naturally  arising  to  a  well- 
tempered  spirit,  from  the  apprehended  congruityor  fitness 
of  things,  as  that  he  should  command  and  that  we  should 
obey.  His  right  and  our  obligation  being  so  undoubtedly 
clear  and  great ;  especially  when  we  also  consider  what 
he  commands,  and  find  it  is  no  hard  bondage;  that  they  are 
not  grievous  commands  which  he  requires  we  be  subject 
to ;  but  such  in  the  keeping  whereof  there  is  great  reward ; 
and  that  his  waj-^s  are  all  pleasantness  and  peace. 

And  being  considered  as  a  portion,  the  matter  is  plain, 
that  so  rich  and  abounding  fulness,  where  also  there  is  so 
communicative  an  inclination,  cannot  but  recommend  him 
a  most  satisfying  object  of  delight. 

And  thus  we  are  more  principally  to  consider  him,  viz. 
rather  relatively  than  absolutely :  and  that  relatedness 
(which  the  state  of  the  case  requires)  as  now  anew  settled 
in  Christ.  And  so,  though  it  be  very  delightful  to  look 
upon  him,  as  one  that  may  and  is  ready  to  become  related 
to  us,  (as  he  is  to  any  that  will  consent  and  agree  with  him 
a  Rom.  V.  10,  n. 


upon  the  Mediator's  terms,)  yet  it  adds  unspeakably  to  the 
pleasantness  of  this  object,  when  we  can  reflect  upon  such 
characters  in  ourselves,  as  from  whence  we  may  regularly 
conclude,  that  he  is  actually  thus  related  unto  us.  That 
is,  that  we  have  consented ;  that  our  relation  to  him  im- 
mediately arises  from  the  covenant  of  life  and  peace;  that 
he  hath  entered  into  covenant  with  us,  and  so  we  are  be- 
come his.  It  is  pleasant  thus  to  behold  and  serve  him  as 
our  Lord.  How  great  is  the  emphasis  of  these  words,  "  I 
count  all  things  but  loss  for  the  excellency  of  the  know- 
ledge of  Christ  Jesus  my  Lord !"  To  consider  not  only 
how  well  he  deserves  the  acknowledgments  and  subjection 
of  all ;  but  also  to  find  ourselves  under  the  chosen  and 
gentle  bonds  of  perpetual  service,  and  devotedness  to  him, 
is  certainly  matter  of  very  high  delight  and  pleasure. 

But  how  infinitely  delightful  is  it,  to  view  and  enjoy 
him  as  our  Portion  I  And  this  seems  very  pertinent  to  the 
design  of  this  scripture;  which  aiming  to  recall  and  draw 
in  the  hearts  of  godly  persons  from  too  earnest  and  from 
envious  lingerings  after  the  enjoyments  of  worldly  men, 
(their  enemies  and  oppressors,)  propounds  what  may  be  an 
over-balance  to  the  (imagined)  felicity  of  their  state  ;  and 
wherein  they  should  more  than  equal  them  in  point  of 
enjoyment.  And  should  we  single  out  this,  as  the  object 
to  be  considered,  God  as  a  portion ;  that  it  might  be  more 
distinctly  represented,  we  should  have  two  things  to  take 
notice  of  that  would  render  it  most  delectable,  and  such 
as  wherein  holy  hearts  may  acquiesce,  and  rest  with  fullest 
satisfaction: — the  sufficiency — and  the  communicableness 
of  it. 

1.  The  sufficiency  of  it.  Which  cannot  but  be  eveiy 
way  complete  and  full ;  it  being  the  all-comprehensive 
good,  which  is  this  portion. — God  all-sufficient. — The  most 
eminent  and  known  attributes  of  his  being,  wherein  by 
any  issues  of  them  they  can  be  communicated,  having  an 
ingrediency  and  concurrence  to  the  happiness  of  his  peo- 
ple therein. 

2.  The  communicableness  thereof  Which  proceeds 
from  his  bounty,  more  peculiarly,  and  his  gracious  incli- 
nation to  do  good,  and  make  his  boundless  fulness  over- 
flow to  the  replenishing  of  thirsty,  longing  souls,  whom 
first  it  had  allured  and  caused  so  to  long.  But  though  the 
scope  and  order  of  the  discourse  in  this  psalm,  did  not 
directly  seem  to  import  more  than  a  design  of  calling  ofl" 
the  persons  here  spoken  to,  from  one  sort  of  enjoyment  to 
another,  from  a  meaner  and  more  empty  to  a  better;  yet 
it  is  to  be  considered,  that  true  and  the  best  enjoyment 
cannot  be  unaccompanied  with  duty  ;  and  that  God  is  not 
otherwise  to  be  enjoj^ed  than  as  he  is  obeyed:  nor  indeed 
are  the  notions  of  him,  as  a  Lord  to  be  obeyed,  and  as  a 
good  to  be  enjoyed,  entirely  distinct ;  but  are  interwoven 
and  do  run  into  one  another.  We  obey  him,  even  in  en- 
joying him ;  it  being  part  of  our  enjoined  duty,  to  set  our 
hearts  upon  him,  as  our  best  and  highest  good.  And  we 
enjoy  him  in  obeying  him  ;  the  advantage  and  benefit  of 
his  government,  being  a  real  and  most  momentous  part  of 
that  good  which  we  enjoy  from  him,  and  in  him.  He  is 
our  benefactor  even  as  he  is  our  ruler  ;  and  is  therein  our 
ruler,  as  he  proposes  to  us  benefits,  which  he  thereby  binds 
us  to  accept;  for  even  his  invitations  and  offers  are  also 
laws  and  formal  bonds  of  duty  upon  us.  Yea,  and  even 
the  act  of  delight  itself  pitched  upon  him,  is  an  act  of 
homage,  as  there  will  be  occasion  hereafter  to  take  notice. 

Wherefore  it  will  be  fit  to  steer  a  larger  course,  than 
merely  to  consider  him  as  a  good  commensurate  to  our 
partial  appetites.  Which  are  apt  to  prescribe  to,  and  limit 
our  apprehensions  to  this  or  that  particularly  sort  or  good, 
and  tincture  them  with  such  a  notion  of  delight,  as  which, 
if  it  be  not  false  and  grossly  carnal,  may  yet  be  much  too 
narrow  and  unproportionable  to  the  universal,  all-compre- 
hending good.  And  though  we  shall  not  here  go  beyond 
the  compass  of  delectable  good  ;  yet  as  there  is  no  good, 
truly  so  called,  which  is  not  in  or  from  the  first  goodness  ; 
so  indeed,  nor  is  there  any  capable  of  being  gathered  up 
into  that  sum  which  is  not  delectable. 

Nor  therefore  can  the  usual  distribution  of  goodness 
into  profitable,  honest,  and  pleasant.,  bear  a  strict  test. 
Only  the  false  relishes  of  vitiated  appetite  in  this  corrupted 
state  of  man,  have  given  ground  for  it.     Otherwise  to  a 


Paht  I 


OP  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


353 


mind  and  will  that  is  not  distempered,  the  account  would 
be  much  otherwise.  To  a  prudent  inind,  profitable  good 
would  be  pleasant,  even  as  'tis  profitable.  To  a  just  and 
generous  mind,  honest,  comely  good  would  be  pleasant, 
even  as  it  is  honest.  Nor  would  there  need  another  dis- 
tinction, but  into  the  goodness  of  the  end,  which  is  plea- 
sant for  itself,  and  the  goodness  of  the  means,  which  is 
pleasant  as  it  is  honestly  and  decently  profitable  (and 
otherwise  it  cannot  be)  I  hereunto. 

That  we  may  here  therefore  with  the  more  advantage 
state  the  delectable  good  we  are  now  to  consider,  it  will 
be  requisite  to  premise  two  things. 

1.  That  all  delightful  enjoyment  of  God  supposes  .some 
communication  from  him.  Nothing  can  delight  us,  or  be 
enjoyed  by  us,  whereof  we  do  not,  some  way,  fir  bv  •■rm" 
faculty  or  other,  partake  somewhat ;  either  by  our  external 
sense,  sensitive  appetite,  fancy,  memory,  mind,  will ;  and 
either  in  a  higher  or  lower  degree,  for  a  longer  or  a  shorter 
time,  according  as  the  delight  is  for  kind,  degree,  or  con- 
tinuance which  is  taken  therein.  This  is  plain  in  itself. 
And  in  the  present  case  therefore  of  delighting  in  God,  or 
enjojing  him,  some  communication  or  participation  there 
must  be  one  way  or  other  according  as  the  enjoyment  of 
him  is.  And  as  the  case  with  man  now  is,  it  is  necessary 
he  do  with  clearest  and  the  most  penetrative  light  and 
power,  come  in  upon  his  mind  and  heart,  scatter  dark- 
ness, remove  prejudice,  abolish  former  relishes,  transfuse 
his  own  sweet  savour  through  the  soul.  Proportionably 
therefore  to  what  is  to  be  done,  he  communicates  himself, 
as  the  event  constantly  shows,  with  all  them  that  are  ever 
brought  to  any  real  enjoyment  of  him.  For  we  plainly 
see,  that  the  same  divine  communication  which  being  re- 
ceived, doth  delight  and  satisfj',  doth  also  procure,  that  it 
may  be  desired  and  received  ;  makes  its  own  way,  attem- 
pers and  frames  the  soul  to  itself;  and  gives  it  the  sweet 
relish  and  savour  thereof,  wherein  God  is  actually  enjoj^ed. 

2.  That  however  God  himself  is  truly  said  to  be  enjoy- 
ed or  delighted  in  by  holy  souls,  yet  this  communication 
is  also  a  sort  of  mediate  object  of  this  delight  or  enjoj'- 
ment.  These  things  being  forelaid,  it  is  now  needful  to 
inquire  somewhat  more  distinctly,  what  that  communica- 
tion or  communicable  good  is,  which  is  the  immediate 
matter  of  proper,  spiritual  enjoyment  unto  holy  men  in 
this  world.  Beeaase  many  have  that  phrase  of  speech 
enjoying  God  often  in  their  mouths,  that  well  understand 
not  what  they  mean  by  it ;  yea  even  divers  of  them  that 
have  real  enjoyment  of  him.  Unto  whom,  though  they 
possibly  taste  the  thing  which  they  cannot  express  or  form 
distinct  conceptions  of,  it  might  be  somewhat  their  ad- 
vantage to  have  it  more  cleared  up  to  their  apprehension, 
what  it  is  that  they  immediately  enjoy,  when  they  are  said 
to  enjoy  God  ;  or  by  what  he  is  to  be  enjoyed.  It  is  not  a 
mere  fancy  (as  too  many  profanely  think,  and  are  too  apt  to 
speak)  thai  is  the  thing  to  be  enjoyed.  There  have  been 
those,  who,  comparing  their  own  experience  with  God's 
promises  and  precepts,  (the  rule  by  which  he  imparts  and 
according  whereto  men  are  to  expect  his  gracious  influ- 
ence,) were  capable  of  avowing  ii,  rationally,  to  be  some 
very  substantial  thing  they  have  had  the  enjoyment  of 
The  sobriety  of  their  spirits,  the  regularity  of  their  work- 
ings, their  gracious  composure,  the  meekness,  humility, 
denial  of  self,  the  sensible  refreshing,  the  mighty  strength 
and  vigour  which  hath  accr.mpanied  such  enjoyments, 
sufficiently  proving  to  them  that  they  did  not  hug  an  empty 
cloud,  or  embrace  a  shadow,  under  the  name  of  enjoying 
Grod.  Such  expressions  as  we  find  in  the  book  of  Psalms, 
(the  16th  and  many  other,)  with  sundry  parts  of  Scrip- 
ture besides,  leave  us  not  without  instance,  that  import 
nothing  like  flashy  and  flaunting  bombast,  no  appearance 
of  affectation,  no  pompous  show  of  vain-glory,  no  sem- 
blance of  swelling  words  of  vanity;  but  which  discover 
a  most  equal,  orderly,  well-poised  temper  of  mind,  in  con- 
junction with  the  highest  delight  and  well-pleasedness  in 
God.  That  rich  and  unimitable  fulness  of  living  sense, 
could  not  but  be  from  the  apprehension  of  a  most  excel- 
lent nature  and  kind,  whatsoever  be  the  notion,  that  may 
be  most  fitly  put  upon  it.  Nor  yet  is  it  the  mere  essence 
of  God  which  men  can  be  said  to  enjoy.  For  that  is  not 
commtmicated  nur  cnmmunicable.     Enjoyment  supposes 

c  IN.  xvvii.  1. 


posse.ssion.  But  it  would  be  a  strange  language  to  say  we 
po.ssess  the  essence  of  God  otherwise  than  relatively ; 
which  is  not  enough  unto  actual  enjoyment.  His  mere 
essential  presence  u  not  enough.  That  renders  him  not 
enjoyed  by  any,  for  that  is  equally  with  all,  and  every 
where;  but  all  cannot  be  .said  to  enjoy  liim. 

As  therefore  it  is  a  rt^a/.  so  there  must  be  some  spcrAal 
communication,  by  which,  being  received,  we  are  truly 
said  to  enjoy  him.  A  special  good  it  must  be,  not  such  as 
is  common  to  all.  For  there  is  a  communication  from  him 
that  is  of  that  extent,  ina.smuch  as  all  live  and  move  and 
have  their  beings  in  him,  and  the  whole  earth  is  full  of  his 
goodness.  This  is  a  good  peculiar  to  them  that  are  bom 
of  God;  and  suited  to  the  apprehension  and  sense  of  that 
divin«  f  fPFiture  which  is  so  born. 

What  this  good  is,  how  fully  sufficient  it  is,  and  how 
or  whii  li  way  it  is  comniunicabl.-;.  irjiv  be  the  better  un- 
derstood when  we  have  considered  wnat  are  the  wants  and 
cravings  of  this  creature,  or  of  them  in  whom  it  is  formed 
and  wrought.  For  when  we  have  pitched  upon  the  very 
thing  itself  which  they  most  desire,  (and  which  they  can 
tell  is  it,  when  they  hear  it  named,  though  their  thoughts 
arc  not  so  well  formed  about  it,  as  to  give  it  the  right 
name  before,)  we  shall  then  understand  it  to  be  both  what 
will  be  sufficient  to  satisfy,  and  what  may  be  communi- 
cated to  that  purpose.  But  now,  before  that  new  birth 
take  place  in  the  spirit  of  man,  it  wants,  but  knows  not 
what ;  craves,  indeterminately,  (who  will  show  us  any 
good  ?)  not  fixing  upon  any  particular  one  that  is  sufllcient 
and  finite,  and  labouring  at  once,  under  an  ignorance  of 
the  infinite,  together  with  a  disaffection  thereunto.  Its 
wants  and  cravings  are  beyond  the  measure  of  all  finite 
good  ;  for  suppose  it  to  have  never  so  large  a  share,  nay, 
could  it  grasp  and  ensjross  the  whole  of  it,  an  unsatisfied- 
nessand  desire  of  more  would  still  remain.  But  that  wore 
is  somewhat  indeterminate  and  merely  imaginary  :  an  in- 
finite nothing  :  an  idol  of  fancy :  a  God  of  its  own  making. 
God  it  must  have ;  but  what  a  one  he  is  it  misapprehends, 
and  wherein  it  rightly  apprehends  him  likes  and  loves  him 
not ;  will  by  no  means  choose,  desire,  or  take  complacency 
in  him.  So  that  an  unregenerate  soul  is,  while  it  is  such, 
necessarily  doomed  to  be  miserable.  It  cannot  be  happy 
in  an}-  inferior  good,  and  in  the  supreme  it  will  not.  What 
the  real  wants  and  just  cravings  of  a  man's  spirit  there- 
fore are,  are  not  to  be  understood  by  considering  it  in  that 
state.  And  if  the  work  of  the  new  creature  were  per- 
fected in  it,  it  would  want  and  crave  no  more ;  but  were 
satisfied  fully  and  at  perfect  rest.  Nor  is  that  state  so 
known  to  us  as  yet.  Therefore  they  are  best  to  be  dis- 
cerned in  the  state  wherein  that  work  is  begun  and  hitherto 
unfinished ;  in  which  it  therefore  desires  rightly,  and  still 
continues  to  desire  :  a  state  of  intermingled  motion  and 
rest ;  wherein  delight  is  imperfect,  and  allayed  by  the  con- 
tinual mixture  of  yet  unsatisfied  desire.  And  yet  ii  may 
be  collected  what  it  is  that  woukl  be  sufficient  to  satisfy  ; 
because  their  desire  is  still  determined  to  <^  one  thing,  is 
not  vagrant,  wanders  not  after  thing-s  of  another  kind, 
but  is  intent  only  upon  more  of  the  same.  Now  let  it  be 
inquired  of  such  a  one  what  that  thinir  is.  We  are  eene- 
rally  told  lhere,<i  "  One  thing  have  I  desired  of  the  Lord, 
that  will  I  seek  after,  tfiat  I  may  dwell  in  the  house  of  the 
Lord  all  the  days  of  my  life,  to  behold  the  beai-ty  of  the 
Lord,"  &c.  And  it  may  he  many  would  more  shortly 
tell  yon  it  is  God  they  desire,  whence  it  would  only  le 
concluded  it  is  God  thev  aim  to  enjoy  or  delisjht  in.  But 
because  this  brings  us  but  where  we  were  ;  let  it  be  fur- 
ther inquired,  what  then  is  your  business  with  God,  or 
M'hat  would  you  have  of  him  1  It  is  not,  sure,  to  be  God 
that  you  expect  or  seek,  or  to  enjoy  God  in  that  sense 
wherein  he  possesses  and  enjoys  himself.  No,  not  by  any 
means.  It  is  then  some  communication  from  God,  diverse 
from  what  all  men  have  (for  th.ai  they  do  not  find  apt  to 
satisfy)  which  they  desire  and  crave.  And  what  is  that  1 
'Tis  somewhat,  as  possible  to  be  apprehended,  and  as  dis- 
tinguishable both  from  his  incommunicable  being,  and  his 
so  generally  communicated  bouniv  towards  all.  As  if  the 
inquiry  were,  what  is  it  that  I  desire  really  to  enjoy  when 
I  desiie  to  enjoy  a  friend  ?  {viz.  as  the  notion  of  a  friend 
or  friendship  doth  most  properly  import.)     That  is  neither 


354 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


Part  I. 


to  desire  the  impossible  thing,  of  possessing  his  being  as 
my  own ;  nor  the  unsatisfying  thing,  the  mere  partaking 
some  part  of  his  external  goods  and  wealth,  whereof  it 
may  be  he  daily  imparts  somewhat  to  every  beggar  at  his 
door.  But  it  is  to  have  his  intimate  acquaintance,  his 
counsel  and  advice,  the  advantage  of  improving  myself  by 
his  converse  and  of  conforming  myself  to  his  example  in 
his  imitable  perfections  ;  the  assurances  of  his  faithful, 
constant  love  and  friendship,  in  reference  to  all  future 
emergencies.  A  friend  is  really  to  be  enjoyed  in  such 
things  as  these. 

And  in  such-like  is  God  to  be  enjoyed  also ;  but  with 
this  difference,  that  God's  communications  are  more  imme- 
diate, more  constant,  more  powerful  and  ethcacioxis,  infi- 
nitely more  delightful  and  satisfying,  in  respect  both  of  the 
good  communicated,  and  the  way  of  communication.  In 
short  then,  the  wants  and  desires  of  a  renewed  soul,  the 
supply  and  satisfaction  whereof  it  seeks  from  God,  would 
be  summed  up  in  these  things. — That  it  may  know  him 
more  fully,  or  have  clearer  apprehensions  of  him. — That 
it  may  become  like  to  him,  and  framed  more  perfectly 
after  his  own  holy  image. — That  it  may  be  ascertained  of 
his  love  and  good  will,  that  he  hath  those  favourable  in- 
clinations towards  it,  which  shall  certainly  infer  his  doing 
all  that  for  it  which  its  real  necessities  (to  be  estimated  by 
his  infinite  wisdom)  can  call  for.  These  are  the  things  in 
kind  which  would  satisfy  it.  And  answerably  to  these  we 
may  conceive  the  communicable  good  which  is  the  imme- 
diate object  of  their  enjoyment.  So  that,  as  God  himself 
is  the  object  which  is  enjoyed;  this  is  the  object  by  which, 
or  in  respect  whereof,  he  is  enjoyable. 

Therefore  the  divine  communication,  or  that  which  is 
communicated  from  God  to  regenerate  souls  wherein  they 
are  to  delight  themselves,  contains  in  it, 

1.  An  inwardly  enlightening  revelation  of  himself  to 
them,  that  tliey  may  know  him  more  distinctly.  This  is  a 
part  of  the  one  thing  would  be  so  highly  satisfying,  and 
delightful.  Show  us  the  Father  and  it  sufficeth  us.'i 
When  their  desires  are  towards  God  only,  it  is  with  this 
aim  in  the  first  place,  that  they  may  know  him,  which  is 
supposed,  when  that  is  given  as  an  encouragement  to  the 
pursuit  of  this  knowledge.  We  shall  know  if  we  follow 
on  10  know  the  Lord.*  As  if  it  had  been  said  ;  this  is  a 
thing  not  doubted  of,  but  taken  for  granted,  that  we  would 
fain  Know  the  Lord;  we  shall,  if  we  follow  on,  &c.  This 
is  a  dictate  of  pure  and  primitive  nature,  to  covet  the  know- 
ledge of  our  own  original,  him  from  whom  we  and  all 
things  sprang.  Men  are  herein  become  most  unnaturally 
wicked  when  they  like  not  to  retain  God  in  their  know- 
ledge.i  The  new  and  divine  nature  once  imparted,  that 
is,  primitive  nature  renewed  and  restored  to  itself,  revives 
the  desire  of  this  knowledge.  And  in  compliance  with  the 
present  exigency  of  the  case  hath  this  inclination  ingrafted 
into  it,  to  know  him,  (as  he  is  now  only  to  be  comfortably 
known,)  viz.  s  in  the  Mediator.  I  determined  to  know 
nothing  among  you  (saith  St.  Paul)  but  Jesus  Christ,  &c. 
t.  e.  to  glory  in,  to  make  show  of,  to  discover  myself  taken 
with  no  other  knowledge  than  this,  or  with  none  so  much 
as  this.  To  which  purpose,  he  elsewhere  professes  to 
count  nil  things  loss  for  the  excellency  of  this  knowledge. h 
So  vehemently  did  desire  work  this  way.  And  propor- 
tionably  as  it  is  apprehended  desirable,  must  it  be  esteem- 
ed delightful  also.  Nor  are  we  here  to  think  that  this  de- 
-.ired  knowledge  was  intended  finallv  to  terminate  in  the 
Mediator,  f  )r  that  the  very  notion  of  Medintor  resists.  The 
name  Christ  is  the  proper  name  of  that  office,  and  the  de- 
sire of  knowing  him  under  that  name  imports  a  desire  to 
know  him  in  his  office,  viz.  as  one  that  is  to  lead  us  to  God, 
and  restore  our  acquaintance  with  him,  which  was  not  to 
be  recovered  upon  other  terms.  So  that  it  is  ultimately 
the  knowledge  of  God  that  is  the  so  much  desired  thing, 
and  of  Christ,  as  the  way  and  our  conductor  to  God.  That 
is,  the  knowledge  of  God  not  absolutely  considered  alone, 
(though  he  is,  even  so,  a  verv  delectable  object,  as  hath 
been  said,  but  as  he  is  related  to  us,  and  from  whom  we 
have  great  expectations,  our  all  being  comprehended  in 
him.  It  cannot  but  be  very  delightful  (answerable  to  a 
certain  sort  of  delectation  of  which  we  shall  have  occasion 


d  .Tolm  xiv. 
t  1  Cor.  ii. 


e  Ho9  vi. 
b  PliU.  iii. 


f  Rom.  i, 
i  Eph.  i.  1 


to  speak  in  its  proper  place)  to  have  him  before  our  eyes 
represented  and  revealed  to  us,  as  the  all-comprehending 
good,  and  that  (in  the  way  and  method  whercinto  things 
are  now  cast)  may,  at  least,  become  our  portion.  He  is, 
some  way,  to  be  enjoyed  even  in  this  view.  'Tis  a  thing 
apt  to  infer  complacency  and  delight  thus  to  look  upon 
him.  They  who  place  felicity  in  contemplation,  espe- 
cially in  the  contemplation  of  God,  are  not  besides  the 
mark  ;  if  they  do  not  circumscribe  and  confine  it  there, 
so  as  to  make  it  stand  in  mere  contemplation,  or  in  an 
idle  and  vainly  curious  view  of  so  glorious  an  object, 
without  any  further  concern  about  it.  They  will  then  be 
found  to  speak  very  agreeably  to  the  language  of  Holy 
Scripture,  which  so  frequently  expresses  the  blessedness  of 
the  other  state  by  seeing  God.  And  if  the  act  of  vision  be 
delicious,  the  representation  of  the  object  must  have  pro- 
portionable maUer  of  delight  in  it.  It  cannot  but  have  so, 
if  we  consider  the  nature  of  this  representation;  which, 
answerably  to  the  sensible  want  and  desire  of  such  as 
shall  be  delighted  therewith,  must  have  somewhat  more  in 
it  than  the  common  appearances  of  God  which  offer  them- 
selves equally  to  the  view  of  all  men.  Though  it  is  their 
own  as  common  fault,  that  they  are  destitute  of  the  more 
grateful  and  necessary  additions.  That  it  hath  more  in  it, 
is  evident  from  God's  own  way  of  speaking  of  it.  For  we 
find  that  his  revealing  himself  in  this  delectable  way, 

1.  Is  attributed  to  the  Spirit.!  And  as  a  work  to  be 
done  by  it  when  it  shall  be  given,  (supposing  it  therefore 
yet  not  given,  and  that  all  have  it  not,)  yea  that  such  have 
it  not,  in  such  a  measure  as  they  may  have  it,  unto  this 
purpose,  who  yet  truly  have  it  i>  in  some  measure  already; 
even  as  a  thing  peculiar  to  them  from  the  unbelieving  world. 

For  it  is  prayed  for  to  such  as  concerning  whom  it  is 
said,  that  after  they  believed  (not  before)  they  were  sealed 
by  the  Spirit  of  promise,  that  the  God  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  the  Father  of  glory,  would  give  it  them  :i  and  it  is 
mentioned  by  a  name  and  title  proper  to  the  end  and  pur- 
pose for  which  it  is  desired  to  be  given  them,  viz.  as  the 
.spirit  of  wisdom  and  revelation,  tliat  end  and  purpose  being 
immediately  expressed  in,  or,  as  that  particle  is  sometimes 
used,  for,  the  knowledge  of  him.™  The  eyes  of  their  under- 
standing being  enlightened  by  it(which  are  supposed  blind 
before)  for  the  same  purpose.  By  which  prayer  it  is  snp- 
posed  a  communicable  thing;  yea,  and  that  these  had 
some  way  a  right  to  the  communication  of  it ;  or  that  it 
was  a  thing  proper  to  their  state,  fit  to  be  prayed  for,  as 
some  way  belonging  to  them,  they  being  in  a  more  imme- 
diate capacity  of  such  revelation  than  others.  But  how 
incongruous  had  it  been,  with  such  solemnity  of  address, 
to  make  request  on  their  behalf  for  that  which  they  already 
sufficiently  had  as  a  thing  common  to  all  men. 

2.  It  is  spoken  of  as  a  reward  of  their  former  love,  loy- 
alty, and  obedience.  He  that  hath  my  commandments 
and  keepeth  them,  he  it  is  that  loveth  me ;  and  he  that 
loveth  me,  shall  be  loved  of  my  Father,  and  I  will  love 
him,  and  will  manifest  myself  to  him."  Therefore  is  such 
manifestation  no  more  to  be  accounted  common,  than  the 
love  of  Christ  is,  and  keeping  his  commandments.  It  is 
spoken  of  as  given  discriminatingly,  and  the  grace  of  God 
admired  upon  that  account.  In  the  next  words,  Judas 
saith  unlo  him,o  (not  Iscariot,  it  being  well  understood 
how  little  covetous  he  was  of,  or  qualified,  for  such  mani- 
festations,) Lord,  how  is  it,  that  thou  wilt  manifest  thyself 
to  us,  and  not  to  the  world  1  What  it  hath  more  than  com- 
mon light,  external  or  internal,  answerable  to  the  deeply 
resented  wants,  and  the  hearts'  desires  of  the  regenerate, 
by  which  it  becomes  so  highly  pleasant  and  delectable  to 
them,  though  it  is  rather  to  be  felt  than  told,  (as  it  is  hard 
to  describe  the  very  things  we  have  only  immediate  sensi- 
ble perception  of.)  may  yet  in  some  degree  be  understood 
by  such  characters  as  these. 

3.  It  is  much  more  distinct  and  clear.  They  are  con- 
fused and  dark  glimmerings  which  other  men  have  of  the 
blessed  God,  so  that  the  light  which  is  in  them  is  darkness.? 
'Tis  true  that  an  unregenerate  person  may  possibly  have 
clearer  acquired  notions  of  God,  and  of  the  things  of  God, 
than  those  may  be  which  are  of  the  same  kind  only  in 
some  who  are  regenerate.     So  that  he  may,  by  the  advan- 


k  Ver.  13. 

II  Jolin  .\iv.  1\. 


1  Ver  17. 
o  Ver.  «. 


Ill  Ver.  13. 
p  Matt,  vi 


Part  I. 


OF  DELIGHTII\G  IN  GOD, 


355 


tages  he  may  have  above  some  of  the  other  in  respect  of 
better  natural  abilities,  more  liberal  education,  such  cir- 
cumstances of  his  condition  as  may  more  engage  him  to 
study  and  contemplation,  and  befriend  him  therein,  be  ca- 
pable of  lindnig  out  mure,  of  making  fuller  discoveries, 
and  more  evident  deductions,  and  be  able  to  discourse 
thence  more  rationally  and  saiisfyingly  to  others,  even 
concerning  God,  his  nature,  attributes,  and  works,  than 
some  very  pious  persons  destitute  of  those  advantages  may 
be  able  to  do.  But  these,  though  their  candle  give  a  dim- 
mer light  than  the  others,  have  the  beams  of  a  sun  raying 
in  upon  them,  that  much  outshines  the  other's  candle. 
And  though  they  know  not  so  many  things,  nor  discern 
the  connexions  of  things  so  thoroughly ;  yet  as  they  do 
know  what  is  most  necessary  to  be  known,  so  what  they  do 
know,  they  know  better,  and  with  a  more  excellent  sort  of 
knowledge,  proportionably  as  whatsoever  is  originally 
and  immediately  divine,  cannot  but  much  excel  that  which 
is  merely  human.  Those  do  but  blunder  in  the  dark,  these 
in  God's  own  light  do  see  Hght.i  And  his  light  puts  a 
brighter  hue  and  aspect  upon  the  same  things,  than  any 
other  represei.tation  can  put  upon  them.  Things  are  by 
it  represented  to  the  life,  which  to  others  carry  with  them 
but  a  faint  and  languid  appearance,  and  are  all  covered 
over  with  nothing  else  but  a  dark  and  dusky  shadow,  so 
as  that  may  be  hid  from  the  wise  and  prudent  which  is 
revealed  to  babes.'  How  bright  and  glorious  things  are 
divine  wisdom,  love,  holiness,  to  an  enlightened  mind  ! 
which  is  therefore  supposed  to  have  a  clearer  discovery  of 
them. 

But  it  may  be  said,  Is  there  any  thing  apprehensible 
concerning  these  or  any  other  matters  which  may  not  be 
expressed  in  some  proposition  or  other  7  And  what  pro- 
position is  there  which  a  regenerate  person  can  assent  to, 
but  one  who  is  not  regenerate  may  assent  to  it  also "?  What 
(iefinilion,  so  truly  expressive  of  the  natures  of  these 
things,  can  be  thought  of,  unto  which  a  carnal  mind  may 
not  give  its  approbation  1  What  can  be  said  or  conceived 
so  fully  and  truly  tending  to  describe  and  clear  them  up, 
but  an  unrenewed  understanding  may  have  the  represen- 
tation of  the  same  truth  so  as  to  give  entertainment  to  it  1 
'Tis  answered,  there  are  many  things  to  which  somewhat 
may  belong  not  capable  of  description,  and  whereof  we 
have  yet  a  most  certain  perception.  As  the  different  re- 
lishes of  the  things  we  taste.  There  are  no  words  that 
will  express  those  many  peculiarities.  And  as  to  the  pre- 
sent matter ;  there  is  somewhat  belonging  to  the  things  of 
God,  (those  for  instance  that  were  mentioned,  his  wisdom, 
holiness,  &c.)  besides  the  truth  of  the  conceptions  that 
may  be  formed  about  them  ;  which  is  more  clearly  appre- 
hensible to  a  divinely  enlightened  understanding  than  to 
one  that  is  not  so.     As, 

1.  The  beamy  of  those  truths ;  which  is  most  delight- 
ful to  behold.  Their  lively  sparkling  lustre,  by  which  they 
appear  so  amiable  and  lovely  to  a  well-tempered  spirit,  as 
to  transport  it  with  pleasure,  and  ravish  it  from  itself  into 
union  with  them.  There  was  somewhat  else  apprehensi- 
ble no  doiib;,  and  apprehended  by  them,  the  inward  senti- 
ments of  whose  souls  those  words  so  defectively  served 
to  express,  Who  is  like  unto  thee,  O  Lord,  among  the 
Gods,  who  is  like  thee,  glorious  in  holiness,  &c.  besides 
the  mere  truth  of  any  proposition  that  those  words  can  be 
resolved  into.  And  so  in  those,  O  the  depths  of  the  rich- 
es both  of  the  wisdom  and  knowledge  of  God,  &c.  And 
those,  God  so  loved  the  world,  that  he  gave  his  only  be- 
gotten Son,  that,  &€.  Or  those.  This  is  a  faithful  saying, 
and  worthy  of  all  acceptation,  that  Jesus  Christ  came  into 
the  world  to  save  sinners,  whereof  I  am  chief.  Or  the 
strains  of  that  rapturous  prayer, — that  he  would  grant  you 
according  to  the  ri  ;hes  of  his  glory,  to  be  strengthened  with 
might  by  his  spirit  in  the  inner  man;  that  Christ  mav 
dwell  in  your  hearts  by  faith;  that  ye  being  rooted  and 
grounded  in  loi'^e,  may  be  able  to  comprehend  with  all 
saints,  what  ir  the  breadth  and  length,  and  depth  and 
height;  andtc  know  the  love  of  Christ,  that  passeth  know- 
ledge, that  yj  might  be  filled  with  all  the  fulness  of  God. 
There  is  a  certain  acceptableness  in  some  truths,  nece.ssary 
to  their  bcmg  received  in  the  love  thereof,  which  is  pecu- 
liarly ,so  represented  to  some,  as  that  their  apprehension  is 
q  Psal.  xxwi.  r  Matt.  xi. 


clear  and  vivid,  beyond  that  of  other  men ;  who,  however 
they  have  the  representation  of  the  same  things,  j'et  have 
not  the  same  representation.  Though  if  they  be  things  of 
necessary  and  common  concernment,  it  is  (as  was  said) 
their  own  fault  that  they  have  it  not.  And  to  have  yet 
clearer  apprehensions  of  this  sort,  is  what  the  renewed  soul 
doth  most  earnestly  crave,  and  would  be  proportionably 
delighted  with. 

2.  The  tendency  of  such  truths  is  much  more  clearly  con- 
ceivable to  a  holy  soul,  than  another  ;  what  their  scope  and 
aim  or  aspect  is,  which  way  they  look,  and  what  they  drive 
at  or  lead  to.  I  mean  not  what  other  truth  they  are  con- 
nected with,  and  would  aptly  tend  to  infer;  but  what  de- 
sign God  hath  upon  us  in  revealing  them,  and  what  im- 
pression they  ought  to  make  upon  us.  To  the  ignorance  or 
disregard  of  which  tendency  and  design  of  God's  revela- 
tion, it  is  to  be  attributed,  that  many  have  long  the  same 
notions  of  things  hovering  in  their  minds,  without  eve>r 
reflecting  with  any  displeasure  upon  the  so  vastly  unsuita- 
ble temper  of  their  spirits  thereto.  They  know  it  may  be 
such  things  concerning  God,  the  tendency  whereof  is  to 
draw  their  hearts  into  union  with  him,  to  transform  them 
into  his  likeness,  to  inflame  ihem  with  his  love.  But  they 
still  remain,  notwithstanding,  at  the  greatest  distance, 
most  unsuitable,  averse,  coldly  affected  towards  him,  yea 
utterly  opposite  and  disaffected  ;  and  fall  not  out  with 
themselves  upon  this  account,  have  no  quarrel  nor  dislike, 
take  not  any  distaste  at  themselves  for  it.  They  lake  no 
notice  of  an  incongruity  and  unfitness  in  the  ill  temper  of 
their  own  spirits;  but  seem  as  if  they  thought  all  were 
very  well  with  them,  nothing  amiss  ;  and  apprehend  not  a 
repugnancy  in  their  habitual  dispositions  towards  God  to 
their  notions  of  him.  For  a  vicious  prejudice  blinds  their 
eyes  ;  their  corrupt  inclinations  and  rotten  hearts  send  up  a 
malignant,  dark,  and  clammy  fog  and  vapour,  and  casx  so 
black  a  cloud  upon  these  bright  things,  that  their  tendency 
and  design  are  not  perceived  ;  that  prejudice  not  being 
conceived  so  much  against  the  abstract  notions  of  the 
things  themselves,  (whence  they  are  entertained  with  less 
reluctancy,)  but  only  against  the  design  and  scope  of  them. 
Against  which  poisonous  cloud  God's  own  glorious  revela- 
tion directs  its  beams,  dissolves  its  gross  consistency,  scat- 
ters its  darkness,  as  to  them  to  whom  he  by  special  grace 
affords  it.  Whereupon,  observing  any  remainders  of  the 
same  distemper  in  their  spirits,  though  it  be  in  a  consi- 
derable degree  abated  and  lessened,  they  are  ashamed  of 
themselves  for  it,  filled  with  confusion,  yea,  and  indigna- 
tion ;  do  loathe  and  abhor,  and  could  even  be  ready,  if  it 
were  possible,  to  run  away  from  themselves.  And  what 
is  the  reason  of  this  so  great  difference  1  Surely  some- 
what appears  discernible  to  these  in  God's  revelation  of 
himself  which  to  the  other  dotli  not.  They  have  then  be- 
fore their  eyes  a  more  clearprospect  of  the  aim  and  scope 
of  it.  Which  so  far  as  they  have,  it  pleases  them,  for  (hey 
like  the  design  well,  only  they  are  displeased  at  them- 
selves that  they  comport  no  more  with  it.  And  as  the  end, 
therefore,  aimed  at  is  desirable  to  them,  and  would  be  de- 
lightful, (as  will  be  shown  in  its  proper  place,)  so  is  it  to 
have  that  representation  immediately  oflered  to  the  view 
of  their  souls,  which  hath  so  apt  and  comely  an  aspect 
thereon,  not  merely  for  its  own  sake,  but  for  the  sake  of 
the  end  itself. 

Wherefore  there  is  somewhat  to  be  apprehended  by 
God's  representation  of  himself  to  the  minds  of  this  rege- 
nerate people,  at  least  more  clearly  than  by  other  men. 
Whence  the  work  of  regenerating  or  ccmverting  them 
itself,  is  expressed  by  opening  their  eyes.'  For  the  divine 
communication  makes  its  own  way  and  enters  at  the  eye, 
the  soul's  seeing  faculty,  which  it  dolh  find  (as  opening 
the  eves  imports)  and  not  now  create:  but  finding  it  vitia- 
ted, and,  as  to  any  right  seeing  of  God,  shut  and  clo.sed 
up,  it  heals,  opens,  and  restores  it  as  it  enters.  It  is  ex- 
pressed, by  turning  them  from  darkness  to  light;  and 
from  the  power  of  Satan  (the  Prince  of  that  darkness,  the 
God  of  this  world,  who  had  blinded  their  eyes)  unio  God. 
Which  (because  they  cannot  turn  and  move  towards  Gt.xl 
blindfold,  and  that  this  opening  their  eyes  is  in  order  to 
their  tmnin?  to  God)  implies,  that  their  eyes  were  so  di.s- 
lempered,  blir.dcd,  and   sealed  up,  chiefly   towards   hini. 

9  Aoti  xx\i.  IS. 


356 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


Part  I. 


So  that,  though  they  could  see  other  things,  him  they 
could  not  see ;  but  he  was  invisible  to  their  intellectual, 
as  well  as  their  bodily  eyes.  Hence  also  is  that  under- 
standing said  to  be  given,  (?'.  e.  as  rectified  and  renewed,) 
by  which  we  know  God ;  which  implies  it  lo  be  (wherein 
it  is  now  given)  somewhat  superadded  to  the  whole  natu- 
ral being  and  powers  of  the  human  soul,  as  in  its  present 
corrupted  stale, — He  hath  given  us  an  understanding  to 
know  him  that  is  trne.'  And  that  given  rectitude  of  un- 
derstanding is  by  such  a  communication  from  God,  as 
hath  not  aptitude  and  power  in  it  to  infer  so  happy  a 
change.  The  same  renewing  work  is  also  said  to  be  a  call- 
ing of  men  out  of  darkness  into  his  marvellous  light." 
As  if  they  were  brought  by  it  into  a  new  world,  wherein 
they  found  themselves  beset  with  wonders,  and  all  things 
were  surprising  to  them.  To  which  purpose  is  that  prayer 
of  the  Psalmist,  (out  of  a  just  consciousness,  that  this  work 
was  not  perfect  in  him,  but  might  yet  admit  great  addition- 
al degrees,)  Open  thou  mine  eyes,  that  I  may  behold  won- 
drous things  out  of  thy  law,^  He  supposed  many  undis- 
covered wonders,  which  more  open  eyes  might  yet  behold 
in  that  external  revelation  of  God's  mind,  which  was  then 
afforded,  (and  which  was  wont  in  those  days  to  go  under 
the  name  of  his  law,  though  it  contained  histories,  prophe- 
cies, and  promises,  as  well  as  precepts,)  although  he  was 
no  stranger  to  those  records,  nor  little  insighted  into 
them,  he  yet  apprehended  a  need  of  more  light  and  better 
eyes ;  which  he  therefore  desires.  Not  that  God  would  cause 
a  new  revelation  to  be  written, (though  that  he  vouchsafed  to 
do,  and  partly  bv  himself,)  but  that  he  might  learn  more  out 
of  thatalreaci}'  extant;  and  that  the  wonderful  things  con- 
tained in  it  might  be  made  more  clear  to  him.  Nor  can  we 
suppose  him,  herein,  to  desire  to  be  gratified  and  delighted 
by  the  communication  of  an  incommunicable  thing. 

2.  It  is  more  powerfully  assuring,  and  s-^uch  as  is  apt  to 
beget  a  more  certain  operative  belief  of  the  things  revealed. 
That  is,  being  added  to  the  means  of  faith  men  may  be  sup- 
posed to  have  had  before,  it  adds  much  to  their  assurance 
of  the  same  things,  so  as  to  make  it  efficacious  upon  their 
spirits.  And  as  well  cures  the  doubtfulness,  irresolution, 
and  waywardness  of  their  minds  and  liearls,  as  the  confu- 
sion and  darkness  of  them. 

It  is  very  possible  those  things  may  be  distinctly  under- 
stood, which  the  more  we  understand,  the  more  we  disbe- 
lieve them  through  their  apprehended  inconsistency  with 
themselves  or  some  certain  truth.  The  delectable  things 
of  God,  his  own  discovery  procures  at  once,  by  one  and 
the  same  radiation  of  light,  both  to  be  clearly  understood, 
and  effectually  believed.  Otiiers  have  the  word  of  faith 
without  the  spirit  of  faith.  The  faith  therefore  which 
they  have  is  a  carcass  ;  not  a  weak  only,  (which  imports 
but  diminished  power,)  but  a  dead  thing.  And  which  hath 
no  power  at  all  to  determine  the  soul  and  compose  it  to  that 
delightful  rest,  which  such  things,  duly  believed,  would 
certainly  infer.  The  most  delectable  truths  of  God,  and 
such  as  most  directly  tend  (in  this  apostate  lapsed  state  of 
man)  to  give  us  the  .sweet  and  refreshing  relishesof  a  just 
and  rational  joy  and  pleasure,  are  such  as  are  contained  in 
the  Gospel  of  Christ;  the  things  that  concern  our  recon- 
ciliation, friendship,  and  communion  with  God  in  him. 
And  which  are  therefore  wholly  of  immediately  divine  and 
supernatural  revelation,  and  to  be  received  by  faith. 
Therefore  one  apostle  prays  for  some,  they  might  be  filled 
with  joy  and  peace  in  believing.^'  And  another  says  of 
others,  that  believing,  they  rejoiced  with  joy  unspeakable 
and  full  of  glory.'-  The  external  revela  ion  in  the  Gospel 
is  an  apt  means  to  beget  that  faith  which  it  is  said  comes 
by  hearing;  but  the  very  notion  of  means  importing  what 
intervenes  to  the  effect,  between  that  and  the  principal 
agent,  necessarily  supposes  such  an  agent;  and  that  what  is 
only  means,  cannot  work  the  effect  alone.  That  Agent, 
viz.  (in  this  case)  God  himself  or  the  Spirit,  besides  the 
means  which  he  uses  and  makes  effectual,  must  have  his 
own  influence  whereby  he  makes  them  so.  If  a  pen  be  a 
fit  means  or  instrument  to  write  with,  it  doth  not  therefore 
follow  that  it  cauAvrite  alone,  without  a  hand  to  move  and 
guide  it,  in  order  whereto  a  molive  and  directive  influence 
is  imparted.     In  the  present  case,  the  influence  is  the  in- 

t  I  .T(,liii  \  ■2^  u  1  Pet.  ii.  X  Psal.  cxi.  IS. 


ward,  enlightening,  overpowering  communication,  where- 
of we  speak.  The  efficacy  whereof  is  such,  as  to  give 
the  soul  that  peaceful  rest  in  believing,  which  is  also  most 
pleasant  and  delightful,  according  as  the  things  are  found 
to  be  so,  which  are  believed.  Nor  doth  it  in  order  hereto 
work  by  way  of  enthusiastical  impulsion,  without  any  re- 
ference to  the  external  revelation,  which  is  rationally  and 
aptly  suitable  to  the  working  of  the  effect.  For  then,  that 
should  no  way  ha  e  the  place  .so  much  as  of  means.  But 
there  being  sufficient  inducement  to  persuade  that  this  ex- 
ternal revelation  is  divine,  so  as  to  procure  a  rational  as- 
sent to  the  things  revealed,  with  any  man  that,  having  that 
revelation,  with  the  account  of  its  first  confirmation, 
shall  but  use  his  understanding  in  reference  thereto,  and 
is  not  besotted  to  a  party  of  sworn  enemies  to  the  Christian 
name.  This  inward  revelation  then  falling  in,  captivates 
his  heart  to  an  entire  unitive  closure,  with  the  great  things 
contained  in  the  outward  one ;  and  principally  with  the 
Son  of  God  himself,  unto  which  union  that  whole  revela- 
tion is  most  directly  subservient.  Therefore  it  was,  that 
when  divers  others  (of  whom  it  is  said,  and  particularly 
of  Judas,  "  that  they  believed  not)  forsook  Christ,  Peter 
and  tlie  other  aposOes  stuck  so  resolutely  to  him,  because, 
we  believe(.  ay  Lhey)  and  art  sure  that  thou  art  Christ,  the 
Son  of  the  living  God ;  which  a.ssurance  we  may  then 
conclude  was  much  of  another  sort  than  that  of  Judas; 
though  we  cannot  suppose  him  to  have  wanted  a  rational 
certainty  of  the  same  truth,  sufficient  to  have  overcome 
objections  in  his  judgment ;  but  not  sufficient  to  overcome 
the  contrary  corrupt  inclinations  of  his  wicked  heart. 
Therefore  as  the  inward  revelation  uses  not  to  do  its  work 
without  the  outward  ;  (for  I  suppose  we  have  not  heard  of 
manj-  Christians  where  the  Gospel  hath  not  been;)  so  nor 
is  the  outward  revelation  able,  alone,  to  beget  that  which, 
in  the  most  eminent  sense,  goes  in  Scripture  under  the 
name  of  faith.  It  may  beget  that  merelj'  intellectual  cer- 
tainty which  may  prevail  against  all  doubts  and  objections 
in  a  man's  mind  to  the  contrary  :  but  not  the  contrary  in- 
clinations of  his  corrupt  ■will.  Most  men's  faith  is  but 
opinionative,  and  many  men's  never  reaches  so  high  as  to  a 
rational  opinion;  that  proceeds  tipon  having  balanced  con- 
siderations on  both  sides,  and  inclines  to  that  part  on  which 
seerns  to  be  the  most  weighty;  whereas  the  faith  (as  they 
call  it)  of  too  many  is  no  other  thing  than  a  merely  blind 
and  sequacious  humour,  grounded  upon  nothing  but  a 
willingness  to  be  in  the  fashion ;  or  the  apprehension  of 
disgrace,  with  other  inconveniences,  if  where  that  is  the 
common  profession  one  should  profess  to  be  any  thing  but 
a  Christian;  or  a  lazy  jndiflTerency,  easily  determinable  to 
that  part  which  is  next  at  hand  to  be  chosen;  or  it  may  be, 
they  never  having  heard  of  another  profession,  which  pre- 
cludes any  choice  at  all. 

But  admit  it  did  arrive  to  a  rational  certainty,  as  it  ea- 
sily might  with  them  that  have  with  the  external  requisite 
advantages,  competent  understanding,  patience,  diligence, 
and  impartiality  to  consider:  that  is,  suppose  it  to  pro- 
ceed upon  that  abundant  evidence  which  the  case  will 
admit,  that  the  Christian  doctrine  hath  been  testified  by 
God  ;  and  that  God's  testimony  cannot  deceive :  there 
needs  m.ore  to  v.'in  and  overcome  men's  hearts;  which 
must  be  done  ere  the  things  revealed  in  the  gospel  can  be 
apprehended  delectable.  What  can  any  man  have  great- 
er certainty  of,  in  a  mere  human  way,  than  all  men  have 
that  they  must  die  ?  And  yet  how  few  are  there  whose 
spirits  are  formed  hereby  to  any  seriousness  agreeable  to 
thr;t  persuasion  !  Whatever  way  a  man  comes  to  be  cer- 
tain of  any  thing  that  hath  a  contrary  tendency  to  the  bent 
of  his  habitually  wicked  heart,  he  needs  more  than  the 
evidence  of  the  thing,  to  make  it  efficaciously  determine 
his  will  against  his  former  vicious  course.  If  the  matter 
be  such  as  properly  falls  under  faith ;  that  faith  grounds 
upon  the  authority  of  God,  apprehended  as  avouching  the 
truth  of  that  revelation  to  which  we  subscribe  our  assent. 
But  then  it  is  lively  or  languid,  according  as  the  appre- 
hension is  we  have  of  that  avouchment.  But  the  appre- 
hension which  is  only  the  product  of  the  external  reve- 
lation, even  reconunended  by  the  most  advantageous 
and  convincing  circumstances,  is  too  faint  to  command 

y  Kom.  x\.  3.  z  1  Pet.  i.  8.  a  John  vi 


Part  I. 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


357 


the  soul.  Who  amongst  all  the  people  of  the  Jews  at 
Mount  Horeb,  could  have  any  doubt,  but  the  authority 
that  avouched  the  law  there  given  them  was  divine  1  And 
yet  how  boldly  do  they  rush  into  idolatry,  against  the  ex- 
press letter  of  that  law  ;  while  the  sound  of  that  dreadful 
voice  of  words  which  delivered  it,  could  hardly,  one  would 
think,  be  well  out  of  their  ears !  And  though  they  could  not 
doubt  of  God's  authority  ,yet  for  all  that,  their  frequent  rebel- 
lions are  plainly  resolved  into  their  infidelity.  How  long 
will  this  people  provoke  me  lb  And  how  long  will  it  be 
ere  they  believe  me,  for  all  the  signs  which  I  have  showed 
among  them  'I  Yea,  they  despised  the  pleasant  land  :  they 
believed  not  his  word.'^  Or  what  place  could  be  left  for 
rational  doubt  with  the  multitudes  that  beheld  the  mira- 
cles of  our  Lord  Jesus,  but  that  they  were  God's  own  seal 
afiixed  purposel)'  to  the  doctrine  taught  by  him  1  Yet  how 
few  (though  we  must  suppose  many  convinced)  did  heartily 
believe  in  him  !  More  (abundantly)  did  upon  a  less  ad- 
vantageous external  revelation  after  his  ascension.  And 
the  reason  is  plainly  told  us,  The  Spirit  was  not  yet  given, 
because  that  Jesus  was  not  yet  glorified. d  And  how  ex- 
pressly have  we  it  from  his  own  mouth,  after  he  had  inter- 
preted coming  to  him  by  believing  on  him,^  No  man  can 
come  unto  me,  except  the  Father  that  hath  sent  me  draw 
him.  And  afterwards,  having  said.  It  is  the  Spirit  that 
quickeneth  ;f  he  adds,  but  there  are  some  of  you  that 
believe  not.?  (So  that  no  man's  professed  assent,  though 
as  forward  a  professor  as  Judas  was,  there  referred  to,  will 
in  strict  account  entitle  him  a  believer,  if  it  be  not  produced 
by  the  quickening  influence  of  the  Spirit.)  And  then  re- 
peats,h  Therefore  I  said  unto  you,  that  no  man  can  come 
unto  me,  except  it  were  given  him  of  my  Father.  And 
what  provocation  the  Father  had  to  withhold  that  quicken- 
ing Spirit  so  generally  from  that  people,  an}'  one  may  see 
that  reads  their  stor5^  Upon  which,  by  the  recess  of  that 
Spirit,  they  are  hardened  to  as  great  a  miracle  as  formerly 
their  Egyptian  oppressors  were  many  ages  before ;  there 
being  indeed  no  greater  miracle,  as  was  said  of  old,  than 
that  men  should  not  believe  upon  the  sight  of  .so  man)' 
miracles.  And  this  dreadful  dereliction  and  conse(2uent 
obduration  we  see  is  referred  to  primitive  justice  as  a  vin- 
dictive dispensation.  But  though  he  had  done  so  many 
miracles  before  them,  yet  they  believed  not  on  him.;  That 
the  saying  of  Esaias  the  prophet  might  be  fulfilled,  which 
he  spake,  Lord,  who  hath  believed  our  report?  and  to 
whom  is  the  arm  of  the  Lord  revealed  1^  Where  it  is  ob- 
vious to  observe  that  the  believing  of  the  gospel-report 
owes  itself  to  the  revelation  of  God's  arm  ;  or  requires  the 
exerting  of  his  power,  agreeable  to  that  of  the  apostle,  that 
ye  may  know  what  is  the  exceeding  greatness  of  his  power 
to  US-ward,  wlio  believe  according  to  the  working  of  his 
mighty  power,  which  he  wrought  in  Christ,  when  he  raised 
him  from  the  dead,  &c.i  And  how  the  ann  of  the  Lord 
came  not  to  be  revealed,  or  that  power  not  to  be  put  forth, 
is  intimated  in  what  follows  :  Therefore  they  could  not 
believe,  because  (for  which  Isaiah  is  again  quoted)  he  had 
blinded  their  eyes,  and  hardened  their  hearts,  &c.ra  Which 
shows,  that  as  that  blinding  and  hardening  of  eyes  and 
hearts,  in  some  superadded  degrees  thereof,  is  the  effect  of 
a  penal  dereliction  or  retraction  of  God's  arm  for  former 
obstinate  opposition  to  the  external  revelation  of  the  Gos- 
pel ;  so  that  there  is  a  precedent  blindness  and  hardness, 
not  othervi'ise  vincible  than  by  the  arm  of  the  Lord ;  and 
which,  it  being  penally  withlield,  will  naturally  grow  worse 
and  worse.  And  certainly  that,  upon  the  withholding 
whereof,  such  things  certainly  ensue  as  are  inconsistent 
with  believing,  must  needs  itself  be  necessary  to  it.  All 
which  things  considered,  do  so  plainly  speak  the  insuffi- 
ciency of  a  mere  external  revelation,  and  the  necessity  of 
an  internal  besides,  unto  that  faith  which  is  the  immediate 
spring  of  delight  in  God;  that  it  is  not  needful  to  insist 
upon  many  plain  texts  of  Scriptures  besides,  that  fully  say 
the  same  thing.  As  that  no  man  can  say  that  Jesus  is  the 
Lord  but  by  the  Holy  Ghost."  And  again,  Whosoever 
shall  confess  that  Jesus  is  the  Son  of  God,  God  dwellcth 
in  him,  and  he  in  God.o  And  whosoever  believeth  that 
Jesus  is  the  Christ  is  born  of  God.P     Upon  which  words, 


b  Num.  xiv.  11. 

c  Psal  cvi.  24. 

(1  John  vii.  39. 

1  Eph  i.  19. 

m  Isa.  vi. 

e  John  vi.  35. 

f  Ver.  63. 

e  Ver  6-1. 
k  Isa.  liii.  1. 

0  1-  John  iv.  15. 

p  Chap.  V.  1. 

b  Ver.  65. 

i  John  xii.  37,  38. 

r  Prov.  ii.  10. 

s  3  Cor.  ii.  14. 

27 

with  many  more  of  like  import  in  the  sacred  volume,  no 
sense  can  be  put  which  is  tolerable,  and  not  the  same  with 
what  we  have  above  asserted. 

In  short,  faith  is  a  part  of  homage  paid  to  the  authority 
of  the  great  God ;  which  is  to  be  estimated  sincere,  accord- 
ing as  it  answers  the  end  for  which  the  things  to  be  be- 
lieved were  revealed.  That  end  is  not  to  beget  only  the 
notion  of  those  things,  as  truths  that  are  to  be  lodged  in  the 
mind,  and  go  no  further;  as  if  they  were  to  be  understood 
true  only  that  they  might  be  so  understood;  but  that  the 
person  might  accordingly  have  his  spirit  formed,  and  might 
shape  the  course  of  his  whole  conversation  ;  therefore  is  it 
called  the  obedience  of  faith ;  and  the  same  word  which  is 
wont  to  be  rendered  unbelief,  signifies  disobedience,  obsti- 
nacy, unpersuadableness ;  being  I'rom  a  theme  which  (as  is 
known)  signifies  to  persuade.  So  that  this  homage  is  then 
truly  given  to  the  eternal  God,  when  his  revelation  is  com- 
plied with  and  submitted  to,  according  to  the  true  intent 
and  purpose  of  it.  Which  that  it  may  be,  requires  that  his 
Spirit  urge  the  soul  with  his  authority,  and  overpower  it 
into  an  awful  subjection  thereto.  The  soul  being  so  dis- 
jointed by  the  apostncy,  that  its  own  faculties  keep  not  (in 
reference  to  the  things  of  God)  their  natural  order  to  one 
another,  further  than  as  a  holy  rectitude  is  renewed  in  them 
by  the  Holy  Ghost.  Therefore  is  it  necessary,  that  the  en- 
lightening communication  which  he  transmits  into  it,  be 
not  only  so  clear,  as  to  scatter  the  darkness  that  beclouded 
the  mind,  but  so  penetrating,  as  to  strike  and  pierce  the 
heart,  to  dissolve  and  relax  its  stiff' and  frozen  rigour,  and 
render  it  capable  of  a  new  mould  and  frame.  In  order 
whereto,  "  God  that  (at  first)  commanded  the  light  to  shine 
out  of  darkness,  is  .said  to  have  shined  into  the  hearts"  of 
them,  rzr.  whom  he  renews,  "to  give  the  light  of  the 
knowledge  of  the  glory  of  God  in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ." 
And  as  they  to  whom  this  communication  of  God  is  in 
some  degree  afforded,  do  hereupon  apprehend  how  neces- 
sary it  was  to  them  that  it  should  be  afforded;  and  be 
such  as  they  now  find  it,  (which  they  apprehended  not  be- 
fore,) so  they  perceive  it  to  be  delightful  also,  as  well  as 
necessary.  And  finding  it  yet  given  into  them  but  in  an 
imperfect  degree,  their  continual  cravingsare  still  for  more. 
And  having  tasted  hereby  how  gracious  the  Lord  is ;  as 
new-born  babes  the)'  desire  it,  as  sincere  rni'vk,  that  they 
may  grow  theTeny.i  They  hereby  come  to  know  God  and 
the  things  of  God  with  savour.  And  wisdom  having  en- 
tered into  their  hearts,  knowledge  is  pleasant  to  their  soul.' 
Whereby,  as  every  renewed  taste  provokes  in  them  new 
desire,  all  such  renewed  desires  dispose  them  unto  further 
and  more  satisfying  delight.  They  sensibly  discern  the 
difference  between  their  former  dry  and  sapless  notions 
of  God,  .and  the  lively-.'^pirited  apprehensions  which  they 
now  have.  They  can  in  some  measure  understand  the 
reason  why  the  apostle  should  in  such  a  rapture  speak  of 
the  excellency  of  the  knowledge  of  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord ; 
and  why  he  should  so  triumphnntly  give  thanks  to  God  for 
the  manifestation  of  the  savour  of  his  knowledge  ^  in  eveiy 
place.  They  can  perceive  there  was  good  sense  in  those 
words,  they  have  a  more  quick  and  judicious  perception 
of  the  frngrancy  of  that  knowledge ;  it  is  to  them  a  refresh- 
ing, vital,  quickening  perfume,  as  the  word,  there  and  be- 
fore, imports,  most  cheeringly  odoriferous,  the  savour  of 
life  to  life,'  lively  in  itself,  and  to  them.  So  full  of  life, 
as  to  beget  and  tran.smit  it,  and  replenish  their  souls  there- 
with ;  so  as  they  might  feel  life  thence  working  in  all  their 
powers.  A  revelation  of  God,  that  is  of  such  a  nature, 
cannot  but  be  highly  delectable; 

1.  In  respect  of  the  matter  revealed,  God  himself  espe- 
cially (if  not  yet  testifying  himself  to  be,  yet  at  least  will- 
ing in  Christ  to  become)  our  God;  in  such  a  way,  and 
upon  such  terms,  as  is  expressed  in  the  Gospel.  A  more 
particular  mention  of  the  things  (contained  in  this  revela- 
tion) that  are  more  apt  to  beget  delight  and  feed  it.  is  pur- 
posely deferred  till  we  come  to  press  and  enforce  the  duty 
itself 

2.  In  respect  of  the  immediate  way  and  manner  of  reve- 
lation, with  so  much  facility  continuallv  coming  in  from 
time  to  time  upon  the  soul,  according  as  it  is  found  ready  by 

n  1  Cor.  xii.  3. 
q  1  Pet  ii.  2,  3. 
t  Ver.  16. 


358 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


Part  I. 


a  dutiful  compliance  to  admit  it,  and  doth  lie  open  to  it. 
For  otherwise,  a  fatherly  severity  is  most  fitly  expressed 
in  -withholding  it  at  some  times. 

3.  In  respect  of  the  life  and  vigour  which  it  carries  with 
It,  whereby  it  is  experienced  to  be  a  vital  light;  and  that 
it  is  indeed  (as  is  said)  life,  which  is  the  light  of  men." 
Dull,  sluggish,  ineffectual  notions  of  such  things  can  have 
little,  comparatively,  of  delectation  in  them. 

4.  In  respect  of  the  design  and  tendency  of  the  revelation, 
discernible  at  the  same  time,  to  draw  the  soul  into  union 
with  God;  and  that  there  may  be  a  continual  intercourse 
between  him  and  it.  Not  that  it  might  have  a  transient 
glance  of  so  lovely  an  object,  and  no  more.  When  once  it 
apprehends  God  hath  made  this  light  shine  in  upon  me, 
not  to  amuse  me,  but  here  he  fixes  it  as  a  lamp  to  guide 
me,  in  a  stated  course  of  communion  with  him.  How 
pleasant  is  it  to  think  he  will  be  known  for  this  blessed 
purpose  !  Now  a  communication  of  God  including  a  reve- 
lation of  him  apt  to  beget  such  a  knowledge,  cannot  be 
without  much  matter  of  delight. 

But  besides  that,  though  most  naturally  following  there- 
upon, it  also  includes, 

II.  A  transforming  impression  of  his  image.  This  yet 
more  fully  answers  the  inquiry  when  a  person  is  said  to 
enjoy  God  ;  what  doth  he  immediately  enjoy  1  or  whereby, 
is  he  said  to  enjoy  God  1  what  doth  God  communicate  or 
transmit,  by  which  he  may  be  said  to  be  enjoyed  1  He 
communicates  his  own  living  likeness,  the  very  image  of 
himself;  not  the  ideaof  likeness  only  by  which  he  is  known, 
though  it  must  be  confessed  the  knowledge  of  him,  if 
he  be  known  to  be  what  he  truly  is,  must  suppose  a  true 
likeness  of  him  offered  to  the  mind,  and  formed  there.  But 
this  of  which  we  now  spealc,  is  not  a  merely  representative 
but  a  real  image.  The  product  of  the  former  it  is,  as  is 
sufficiently  to  be  collected  from  what  hath  been  said.  For 
that  appears  to  be  not  a  mere  airy,  spiritless,  ineffectual 
thing,  as  the  notion  of  God,  and  of  all  divine  matters,  is 
with  the  most ;  but  as  hath  been  said,  operative,  penetrating, 
efficacious,  apt  to  beget  suitable  impressions  upon  the  heart, 
and  wholly  transform  the  soul.  The  effect  of  it  then  is, 
this  transformative  impression  itself;  by  which  the  soul 
becomes  another  thing  than  it  was  ;  a  new  creature ;  ^  old 
things  being  done  away,  and  all  things  made  jew.  In 
respect  of  this,  it  is  said  to  be  born  of  God.  This  is  the 
new  man  which  after  God  is  said  to  be  created  in  know- 
ledge, righteousness,  and  true  holiness ; "  the  Divine  nature 
participated;!'  the  seed  of^  God;  ihe  airapx'i,'-  the  prime 
and  most  excellent  part  of  his  creatures. 

Concerning  this  likeness,  and  the  satisfy ingn ess  of  it,  in 
its  perfect  state,  though  much  hath  been  discoursed  else- 
where, it  will  be  requisite  to  say  somewhat  here  also,  that 
may  bear  a  more  direct  reference  to  the  present  imperfect 
state  of  the  regenerate  in  this  world.  That  communication 
of  God  which  must  be  supposed  afforded  them,  in  order  to 
their  delighting  in  him,  could  signify  little  to  that  purpose, 
if  with  deformed  and  diseased  souls  they  were  only  to  look 
upon  a  very  lovely  object,  still  themselves  remaining  what 
they  were.  Nor  doth  it  delight  them  only  as  it  is  appre- 
hended apt  and  aiming  to  work  a  happy  change  in  them; 
but  as  it  doth  it,  or  hath  in  part  done  it.  As  like  an  active, 
quick  flame,  it  passeth  through  their  souls,  searches,  melts 
them,  burns  up  their  dross,  makes  them  a  new  lump  or 
mass,  forms  them  for  God's  own  use  and  converse. 

God  is  proposed  unto  our  communion  and  fellowship 
under  the  name  of  light.  But  such  a  light  (it  appears)  as 
whereby  we  that  were  darkness  do  also  become  light  in  the 
Lord,  b  as  elsewhere  it  is  expressed.  That,  as  he  is  the 
Father  of  lights, >=  we  may  appear  the  children  of  such  a 
Father,  and  walk  accordingly,  i.  e.  as  children  of  light. 
For  we  are  presently  told,  that  if  we  say  we  have  fellowship 
with  him,  and  walk  in  darkness,  we  lie,  and  do  not  the 
truth. d  But  if  we  walk  in  the  light  as  he  is  in  the  light, 
then  we  have  a  mutual  fellowship,  *■  i.  e.  God  and  we.  It 
is  needful  then,  that  we  have  that  apprehension  of  him. 
And  he  therefore  by  solemn  message  makes  that  declaration 
of  himself  that  he  is  light,  (this  then  is  the  message  which 
we  have  heard  of  him,  and  declare  unto  you,  that  God  is 
light,  and  with  him  is  no  darkness  at  all,)  i.  e.  the  most 


u  John  i 
y  8  Pet.  i. 


w  2  Cor  V. 
z.  I  John  iii. 


X  Eph 
a  Jam. 


pure,  holy,  excellent,  glorious  Being.  But  for  what  pui- 
pose  are  we  to  have  that  apprehension  1  We  are  told  by 
the  apostle  for  what ;  he  there  makes  that  declaration  with 
that  design,  that  we  might  be  entered  into  the  same  fellow- 
ship in  which  he  was  already:  for  that  end  therefore  we 
are  to  have  this  apprehension.  But  inasmuch  as  he  imme- 
diately adds,  that  yet  while  we  converse  in  darkness,  we 
lie,  if  we  pretend  to  that  fellowship  ;  'lis  manifest,  that  this 
discovery  of  God  and  our  suitable  apprehension  are  no  fur- 
ther serviceable  to  their  end,  than  bringing  us  into  fellow- 
ship with  him,  than  as  by  his  beams  he  begets  us  into  his 
likeness  herein ;  and  that,  so  far  as  our  capacity  and  present 
state  admit,  we  be  truly  in  a  degree  made  pure,  bright,  shi- 
ning, excellent  creatures,  resembling  our  Maker,  and  being 
a  second  time  formed  after  the  image  of  him  that  created  us. 
The  Gospel  is  the  formative  instrument  in  this  work,  as 
it  was  said  to  be  the  instrument  or  means  of  our  intellectual 
illumination.  The  new  creature  is  said  to  be  begotten  of 
the  word  of  God ;  and  the  Divine  nature  to  be  communi- 
cated through  the  exceeding  great  and  precious  promises, 
which  discovering  God's  gracious  nature  and  favourable 
inclination  towards  us,  are  an  apt  means  (but  no  more  than 
a  means)  to  render  us  well-natured  (not  cross,  thwarting, 
contrary)  unto  him.  Faith  admits  the  gospel-discovery 
into  the  soul,  and  of  an  external  word  without,  makes  it 
become  an  ingrafted  word;  the  word  of  Christ  dwelling 
richly  in  us :  and  so  gives  it  the  advantage  of  becoming 
thus  mightily  operative  ;  for  unto  them  only  who  believe  is 
it  the  power  of  God  to  salvation.  And  being  received,  not 
as  the  word  of  man,  but  as  the  word  of  God,  it  works 
effectually  in  them  that  believe.  To  them  who  believe  it 
not,  it  signifies  nothing;  is  to  them  an  empty  sound,  or 
only  as  a  tale  that  is  told.  And  inasmuch  as  the  gospel- 
revelation  is  the  instrument  of  this  impression;  by  it  the 
impression  must  be  measured,  with  it  must  it  agree.  Which 
revelation  being  expressive  of  the  nature  of  God,  and  of  his 
mind  and  will  in  reference  to  us,  the  impression  cannot 
but  be  agreeable  to  that  revelation  ;  but  it  must  also  carry 
in  it  the  resemblance  and  likeness  of  God  himself;  for  the 
gospel-revelation  is  God's  seal ;  the  stamp  upon  it  is  a 
model  of  his  image.  Whence  therefore  the  soul  sealed 
therewith,  bears  on  it  at  once  the  signature  both  of  the 
author  and  the  instrument.  But  because  our  best  and 
surest  way  of  forming  true  and  right  apprehensions  of  God, 
is  to  attend  and  guide  ourselves  by  the  representation  that 
is  there  made  of  him  ;  (for  it  were  useless  and  in  vain,  if 
letting  our  thoughts  work  at  random  without  reference  to 
it,  we  might  conceive  as  fitly  of  God  and  his  mind  con- 
cerning us,  as  by  the  direction  and  guidance  of  it ;)  there- 
fore are  we  to  aim  at  conformity  to  God  as  he  is  there  re- 
presented. For  that  is  the  proper  likeness  to  him  we  are  to 
inquire  after  (and  which  only  could  be  impressed  by  his 
Gospel)  that  is  expressed  and  represented  there.  We  all 
with  open  face  beholding  as  in  a  glass  the  glory  of  the  Lord, 
are  changed  into  the  same  image  from  glory  to  glory,  f  It 
is  by  the  glory  of  the  Lord  shining  through  that  glass,  that 
we  are  changed.  And  the  image  whereinto  we  are  changed 
is  the  same  image  that  is  to  be  seen  in  that  glass.  For 
there  God  hath  provided  such  a  representation  of  him- 
self and  of  his  mind  should  appear,  as  is  most  suitable  to 
our  case  and  state,  and  which  it  most  concerned  us  to  have 
the  view  and  the  image  of.  That  represents  him  in  his 
imitable  excellencies;  a'  d  shows  what  he  is  towards  us, 
what  his  counsels,  deteiTninations,  and  constitutions  are 
concerning  us ;  and  hereupon  shows,  what  we  should  be,  or 
what  temper  of  spirit  becomes  us  in  reference  to  such  a 
revelation.  And  such,  when  we  receive  this  his  impressive 
communication,  he  really  makes  us  thereby  become.  And 
then  is  it  that  it  will  be  found  most  highly  delectable.  A 
heart  formed  according  to  the  revelation  of  God  in  Christ, 
and  cast  into  the  mould  of  the  Gospel,  (as  is  the  import  of 
the  apostle's  words.  Ye  have  obeyed  from  the  heart  the 
doctrine,  s  into  the  type  or  frame  whereof  ye  were  delivered,) 
hath  a  spring  of  pleasure  in  itself  Not  of  perfect  unmixed 
pleasure  ;  for  there  is  much  yet  remaining,  that  cannot  but 
be  very  displeasing  and  oflfensive  to  such  as  have  learned 
no  longer  to  put  bitter  for  sweet,  and  sweet  for  bitter,  and 
have  senses  exercised  to  discern  betwixt  good  and  evil. 


b  1  John  i.  5,  6. 
e  Ver.  7. 


c  Eph.  V. 
f  2  Cor.  iii.  18. 


d  Ver.  6.  , 
e  Rom.  vi 


Part  I. 


OF  DEUGHTING  IN  GOD. 


359 


And  indeed  by  the  same  vital  principle  the  soul  is  made 
capable  both  of  the  sweetest  delights  and  the  quickest  sense 
of  pain;  while  it  was  dead  it  was  sensible  of  neither. 

Nor  is  it  an  original  spring.  Whatever  it  hath  that  is 
good  and  pleasant  comes  from  a  higher  head,  and  is  com- 
municated. But  the  comrnunicalion  remains  not  in  this 
heart  as  in  a  dead  receptacle,  but  creates  the  soul  where  it 
is  a  living  spring  itself.  The  Lord  shall  satisfy  ihy  soul  in 
drought,  and  make  fat  thy  bones,  and  thou  shalt  be  like  a 
watered  garden,  and  as  a  spring  of  water  whose  waters  fail 
not.ii  After  which  it  follows.  Then  shalt  thou  delight  thy- 
self in  the  Lord,  &€.;  So  though  the  waters  that  are  so 
pleasantly  refreshing  to  holy  souls  are  given  by  Christ ;  yet 
he  himself  tells  us,  they  shall  be  in  him  to  whom  they  are 
given  a  well  of  water  springing  up  into  everlasting  life.k 
Whence  also  the  good  man  is  said  to  be  satisfied  from  him- 
self;! and  the  mouth  of  the  righteous  to  be  a  well  of  life,™ 
i.  e.  to  others,  much  more  must  his  heart  be  so  to  himself 
Nor  indeed  can  there  be  a  vainer  or  more  absurd  design 
and  expectation,  than  to  aim  immediately  at  delights  and 
joys,  without  ever  looking  after  that  transforming,  purify- 
ing, quickening  communication  from  God,  in  which  he  is 
to  be  enjoyed;  which  is,  apparently,  the  most  prejudicial 
and  dangerous  mistake,  the  practical  error  (and  so  much 
the  worse  therefore)  of  many  persons  of  much  pretence  to 
religion,  that  dream  and  boast  of  nothing  less  than  raptures 
and  transports,  having  never  yet  known  or  felt  what  the 
work  of  regeneration  or  the  new  creature  means.  And 
having  only  got  some  notions  of  God  and  Christ,  that 
tickle  their  fancies  without  ever  changing  their  hearts,  these 
go  for  divine  enjoyments.  Others  somewhat  awakened 
and  convinced,  but  not  renewed,  though  they  do  not  pre- 
tend already  to  have,  yet  do  (from  the  same  mistaken  ap- 
prehension) as  vainly  seek  and  catch  at  joys  and  sweet- 
nesses; while  their  unsanctified  hearts  do  yet  lie  steeped 
in  the  gall  of  bitterness.  And  they  wonder  and  complain, 
that  they  feel  not  in  themselves  the  delights  whereof  they 
find  Scripture  sometimes  make  mention,  while  in  the  mean- 
time they  expect  and  snatch  at  them  in  that  preposterous 
impossible  wa)^,  as  to  abstract  them  from  the  things  them- 
selves, wherein  the  pleasure  and  delight  lies.  Thej^  would 
have  delight  without  the  delectable  good  that  must  im- 
mediately afford  and  yield  it;  or  without  foregoing  the 
noisome  evils  that  resist  and  hinder  it;  which  therefore 
makes  it  necessary  to  treat  the  more  largely  of  the  delight- 
ful communication,  by  which  only  intervening  souls  are 
capable  of  delighting  in  God. 

And  as  to  this  branch  of  it,  the  vital,  sanctifying,  trans- 
forming influence,  whereby  the  soul  is  wrought  to  a  con- 
formity to  the  Gospel ;  if  we  take  a  somewhat  more  distinct 
view  of  it,  we  .shall  find,  it  cannot  but  have  in  it  abundant 
matter  of  delight.  In  the  general,  the  thing  here  to  be 
communicated,  is  a  universal  rectitude  of  temper  and  dis- 
positions, including — the  removal  of  such  as  are  sinful  and 
corrupt;  and — the  settlement  of  such  as  are  holy  and  gra- 
cious;— both  to  be  measured  and  estimated,  as  to  their 
good  or  evil,  by  the  Gospel  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Now 
surely  that  must  be  a  blessed  and  delightful  state  (and  it's 
that  towards  which  this  divine  communication  gradually 
tends)  wherein  a  wretched  soul,  that  was  lost  in  the  impu- 
rities of  sin,  shall  be  stripped  and  unclothed  of  all  the  pra- 
vity,  perverse  inclinations,  corrupt  affections,  which  the 
Gospel  of  Christ  condemns;  and  invested  with  all  the 
part.s'of  that  purity,  that  gracious  and  holy  frame,  which 
that  Gospel  recommends.  For  as  the  former  carry  in  them 
matter  of  certain  vexation  and  anguish,  which  it  is  hereby 
freed  from;  so  the  latter  manifestly  carry  in  themselves 
matter  of  unspeakable  delight  and  pleasure,  which  it  here- 
by partakes.  And  by  the  same  degrees  by  which  this  di- 
vine communication  infers  the  latter  of  these,  it  expels  the 
former.  By  the  same  degrees  by  which  any  are  made  par- 
takers of  the  Divine  nature,  they  escape  the  corruptions 
which  are  in  the  world  through  lust.  And  that  we  may 
be  here  a  little  more  particular,  without  descending  into 
the  innumerable  particularities  which  might  be  severally 
spoken  of  upon  this  occasion ;  we  shall  only  consider  this 
heart-rectifying  communication,  in  reference  to  some  of  the 
more  principal  things,  towards  which  the  spirit  of  man 
may  be  either  perversely,  or  duly  and  aright,  inclined ;  that 
b  laa.  Iviii.  U.  i  Ver.  H.  k  John  iv.  14. 


we  may  see  what  matter  of  delight  it  infers  and  brings  with 
it.  In  Older  whereto  it  must  be  considered,  that  whercit 
it  is  transforming,  it  is  also  enlivening;  and  therefore  fur- 
nishes the  soul  with  the  power  of  spiritual  sensation  ; 
whereby  it  comes  to  apprehend  its  former  temper,  as  very 
grievous  and  detestable;  not  only  being  entire  and  undi- 
minished, but  even  the  relics  of  it  which  do  yet  remain; 
and  proportionably,  the  holy  frame  to  be  introduced  as 
highly  covetable  and  to  be  infinitely  desired. 

Which  being  supposed,  it  must  needs  be  very  delightful 
to  such  a  soul,  to  feel  itself  in  part  rectified,  and  to  expect 
it  further  in  its  temper  and  inclinations, 

I.  Towards  God,  towards  whom  it  was  most  disin- 
clined; that  is,  both  towards  him  as  its  end,  and  towards 
Christ  as  its  way  to  him. 

As  to  himself  its  end.  It  finds  upon  reflection,  it  wa.s 
dead  towards  God,  without  motion  towards  him,  without 
inclination,  all  its  powers  bent  and  set  quite  another  way; 
so  that  to  persuade  it  to  begin  a  course  of  holy  motion  to- 
wards God,  was  a  like  thing  as  to  persuade  a  stone  to  fly 
upwards.  It  could  not  trust  the  original  truth,  nor  love 
the  sovereign  good,  nor  obey  the  supreme  authority.  Its 
course  was  nothing  else  but  continual  recession  from  him, 
towards  whom  it  should  have  been  continually  pressing 
forward  with  all  its  might.  It  was  wont  to  say  to  him,  in 
whom  was  its  life  and  all  its  hope,  "  Depart  from  me,  I 
de-sire  not  the  knowledge  of  thy  ways  ;"  was  utterly  alien- 
ated from  the  life  of  God,  and  did  choose  to  live  as  with- 
out him  in  the  world.  And  although  it  still  remain  thus 
in  too  great  a  degree,  yet  as  it  abhors  this  as  a  hateful  way 
of  living,  and  desires  it  may  be  otherwise;  so  is  it  sensibly 
delightful  that  it  doth  in  some  degree  perceive  a  change; 
that  now  it  can  find  itself  returning  into  its  right  and  na- 
tural state  of  subordination  to  God.  Which,  while  it  was 
out  of  it,  laid  that  claim  to  it,  that  its  dislocation  wels  un- 
easy, and  it  could  have  no  rest ;  though  it  was  not  aware 
what  the  matter  was  with  it,  and  could  never  thoroughly 
apprehend,  that  it  ought  (much  less  could  desire  or  aim) 
to  return.  And  if  in  returning,  and  its  continual  course 
afterwards,  (which  ought  to  be  but  a  continuing  return  and 
moving  back  towards  God,)  there  be  much  cause  for  the 
exercise  of  repentance  ;  the  disposition  whereto  is  a  part  of 
that  new  nature  now  communicated ;  yet  even  such  re- 
lentings  as  are  due  and  suitable  upon  this  account  are  not 
unpleasant.  There  is  pleasure  mingled  with  such  tears, 
and  with  those  mournings  which  are  not  without  hope,  and 
which  flow  naturally  and  without  force,  from  a  living  prin- 
ciple within,  as  waters  from  their  still-freshly  springing 
fountain.  When  the  soul  finds  itself  unbound  and  set  at 
liberty;  when  it  can  freely  pour  out  itself  to  God,  dis- 
solve'kindly  and  melt  before  him ;  it  doth  it  with  regret 
only  at  what  it  hath  done  and  been,  not  at  what  it  is  now 
doing,  except  that  it  can  do  it  no  more  ;  affecting  even  to 
be  infinite  herein,  while  it  yet  sees  it  must  be  confined 
within  some  bounds.  It  loves  to  lie  in  the  dust  and  abase 
itself;  and  is  pleased  with  the  humiliation,  contrition,  and 
hrokenness  of  heart,  which  repentance  towards  God  in- 
cludes in  it.  So  that  as  God  is  delighted  with  this  sacri- 
fice, so  it  is  with  the  offering  of  it  up  to  him.  Many  men 
apprehend  a  certain  sweetness  in  revenge ;  such  a  one  finds 
it  only  in  this  just  revenge  upon  himself  How  unexpres- 
sible  pleasure  accompanies  its  devoting  itself  to  God, 
when  bemoaning  itself,  and  returning  with  weeping  and 
supplication,  it  says,  "Now,  lo  I  come  to  thee,  thou  art 
the  Lord  my  God.  I  have  brought  thee  back  thine  own, 
what  I  had  sacrilegiou.sly  alienated  and  stolen  away,  the 
heart  which  was  gone  astray,  that  hath  been  so  long  a  va- 
gabond and  fugitive  from  thy  blessed  presence,  service,  and 
communion.  Take  now  the  soul  which  thou  hast  made  ; 
possess  thy  own  right ;  enter  upon  it,  stamp  it  with  the 
entire  impression  of  thine  own  seal,  and  mark  it  for  thine. 
Other  lords  shall  no  more  have  dominion.  What  have  I 
to  do  anv  more  with  the  idols  wherewith  I  was  wont  to 
provoke  thee  to  jealousy  1  I  will  now  make  mention  of 
thy  name,  and  of  thine'  only.  I  bind  myself  to  thee  in 
everlastin?  bonds,  in  a  covenant  never  to  be  forgotten." 

The  self-denial  which  is  included  in  this  transaction, 
hath  no  little  pleasure  m  it.     When  the  soul  freely  quits 
all  pretence  to  itself,  and  by  its  own  consent  passes  into 
1  Prov.  xiv.  14.  m  Ch.  siti. 


d&) 


OP  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


Part  I. 


his  now  acknowledged  right ;  disclaims  ilself,  and  all  its  i 
own  former  interests,  inclinations,  and  ends,  and  is  resolved 
to  be  to  him  and  to  no  other.  When  this  is  done  unre- 
servedly, without  any  intention  of  retaining  or  keeping 
back  any  thing  from  him ;  absolutely,  and  without  making 
any  conditions  of  its  own,  but  only  agreeing  to  and  thank- 
fully accepting  his ;  peremptorily  and  without  hesitation, 
and  without  halting  between  two  opinions,  "  Shall  1 1  or 
shall  I  not!"  (as  if  it  were  ready  in  the  same  breath  to  re- 
tract and  undo  its  own  act;)  how  doth  it  now  rejoice  to  feel 
itself  offer  willingly !  They  that  have  life  and  sense  about 
them,  can  tell  tliere  is  pleasure  in  all  this.  And  the 
ofiener  repetition  is  made  hereof,  (so  it  be  done  with  life, 
not  with  trifling  formality,)  they  so  often  renew  the  relishes 
with  themselves  of  the  same  pleasure. 

Continued  commerce  with  God,  agreeable  to  the  te- 
nor of  that  league  and  covenant  struck  with  him,  how 
pleasant  and  delightful  is  it !  to  be  a  friend  of  God,  an  as- 
sociate of  the  Most  High,  a  domestic,  no  more  a  stranger, 
a  foreigner,  but  of  his  own  household,  to  live  wholly  upon 
the  plentiful  provisions,  and  under  the  happy  order  and 
government,  of  his  family,  to  have  a  heart  to  seek  all  from 
him,  and  lay  out  all  for  him !  How  great  is  the  pleasure  of 
trust,  of  living  free  from  care ;  that  is,  of  any  thmg,  but 
how  to  please  and  honour  him  in  a  cheerful  unsolicitous 
dependence,  expecting  from  him  our  daily  bread,  believing 
he  will  not  let  our  souls  famish ;  that  while  they  hunger 
and  thirst  after  righteousness,  they  shall  be  filled  ;  that 
they  shall  be  sustained  with  the  bread  and  waters  of  life ; 
that  when  they  hunger,  he  will  feed  them  with  hidden 
manna,  and  with  the  fruits  that  grow  on  the  tree  of  life  in 
the  midst  of  the  paradise  of  God ;  that  when  they  thirst 
he  will  give  water,  and  add  milk  and  honey  without  mo- 
ney, without  price.  And  for  the  body  not  to  doubt,  but 
he  that  feeds  ravens  and  clothes  lilies,-will  feed  and  clothe 
them.  To  be  so  taken  up  in  seeking  his  kingdom  and 
righteousness,  as  freely  to  leave  it  to  him  to  add  the  other 
things  as  he  sees  fit ;  to  have  no  thought  for  to-morrow  ; 
to  have  a  heart  framed  herein  according  to  divine  pre- 
cept ;  not  to  be  encumbered  or  kept  in  an  anxious  sus- 
pense by  the  thoughts  and  fears  of  what  may  fall  out,  by 
which  many  suffer  the  same  atfliction  a  thousand  times 
over,  which  God  would  have  them  suffer  but  once ;  a  firm 
repose  on  the  goodness  of  Providence,  and  its  sure  and 
never-erring  wisdom  ;  a  steady  persuasion,  that  our  hea- 
venly Father  knows  what  we  have  need  of,  and  what  is 
fittest  for  us  to  want,  to  suffer,  or  enjoy  ;  how  delightful  a 
life  do  these  make  I  and  how  agreeable  to  one  born  of 
God,  his  own  son  and  heir  of  all  things;  as  being  joint 
heirs  with  Christ,  and  claiming  by  that  large  grant,  that 
says  all  things  are  yours ;  only  that  in  minority  it  is  better 
to  have  a  wise  Father's  allowance,  than  be  our  own 
carvers. 

To  live  in  the  fear  of  God,  is  not  without  its  pleasure. 
It  composes  the  soul,  expels  the  vanity  which  is  not 
without  vexation,  represses  exhorbitant  motions,  checks 
unruly  passions,  keeps  all  within  in  a  pleasant  peaceful 
calm;  is  health  to  the  navel  and  marrow  to  the  bones. 

To  live  in  his  love,  is  delight  itself,  or  a  tendency  to- 
wards it.  The  disposition  whereto  being  communicated 
from  God,  and  a  part  of  the  holy  new  creature  derived 
from  him;  is  also  part  of  the  (secondary  or  subservient) 
delectable  object.  As  the  light  that  serves  unto  vision  is 
partly  (as  the  mediate  object)  somewhat  of  what  I  see, 
and  doth  partly,  as  a  principle,  actuate  and  concur  with 
the  faculty  in  the  act  of  seeing.  And  as  the  blessed  God 
himself  is  both  the  first  principle  and  ultimate  object  of 
that  and  other  gracious  acts ;"  therefore  it  cannot  but  be 
pleasant  to  the  soul,  to  perceive  that  powerful  influence 
from  God  stirring  in  it,  by  which  it  is  disposed  to  design 
and  pitch  upon  him  as  the  great  object  of  its  highest  de- 
light, unto  whom  it  laboured  under  so  vile  and  wicked  an 
aversion  heretofore.  Yea,  though  it  yet  have  no  certain 
persuasion  of  a  present  interest  in  him,  yet  this  disposition 
of  heart  towards  him,  and  that  it  finds  it  could  satisfyingly 
rest  in  him  as  its  best  good  upon  supposition  it  had  such 

n  And  how  rationally  men  may  be  said  at  the  same  time  to  love,  deliffht  in, 
and  enjoy  the  amiable  or  delectable  object,  and  therewith  also  love  their  own 
love,  enjoy  their  own  fruition,  or  delight  in  their  own  delich!  ;  eiiniigh  i.s  j^aid  bj' 
some  sshool-men.    Nor  indeed  can  it  be  conceived  how  the  soul  can  continue 


an  interest,  the  very  strivings  and  contentions  of  the  soul 
towards  him  upon  this  account,  are  not  without  a  present 
pleasure :  as  we  behold  with  an  intermixed  desire  and  de- 
light a  grateful  object  which  we  would  enjoy,  but  do  not 
yet  know  whether  we  can  compass  or  not.  To  be  in  that 
temper  of  soul,  as  to  resolve,  "  Him  I  will  seek  and  pur- 
sue, him  I  will  study  to  please  and  serve,  and  spend  my 
strength  and  life  in  serving  him,  (which  is  to  live  in  his 
love,)  though  I  yet  know  not  whether  he  will  accept,  or 
how  he  will  deal  with  me  !"  this  cannot  but  have  a  cer- 
tain sen.sible  delectation  in  it. 

To  live  in  a  stated  habitual  subjection  to  him  as  the 
Lord  of  our  lives,  how  pleasant  is  it !  To  have  learned  to 
obey ;  to  be  accustomed  to  the  yoke ;  to  taste  and  prove 
the  goodness  and  acceptableness  of  his  will  through  an 
effectual  transformation  in  the  renewal  of  our  minds ;  to 
be  by  the  law  of  the  Spirit  of  life  made  free  from  the  law 
of  sin  and  death  ;  to  be  able  to  speak  it  as  the  undisguised 
sense  of  our  hearts,  "  Because  thy  law  is  holy,  therefore 
thy  servant  loveth  it;"  to  reckon  it  a  royal  law  of  liberty, 
so  as  to  account  ourselves  so  much  the  more  free,  by  how 
much  we  are  the  more  thus  bound  ;  when  we  affect  to  be 
prescribed  to,  and  are  become  patient  of  government,  not 
apt  to  chafe  at  the  bridle,  or  spurn  and  kick  at  the  bound- 
aries that  hem  us  in :  this  is  a  temper  that  hath  not  more 
of  duty  in  it  than  it  hath  of  delight.  There  is  such  a  thing 
as  delighting  in  the  law  of  God,  according  to  the  inward 
man,  when  there  is  yet  a  difficulty  in  suppressing  and 
keeping  under  inordinate  rebellious  workings  of  corrupt 
nature  ;  unto  which  there  is  no  desire  an  indulgence 
should  be  given,  by  having  the  law  attempered  to  them, 
but  severity  rather  used  to  reduce  them  to  a  conformity 
to  the  law  :  so  will  it  be,  if  the  law  become  a  heart  im- 
pression ;  when  it  can  once  be  truly  said,  thy  law  is  in 
my  heart,  it  will  be  also  with  the  same  sincerity  said,  I 
delight  to  do  thy  will,  O  God." 

The  continual  exercise  of  good  conscience  towards  God, 
hath  great  pleasure  in  it.  Hereby  our  way  and  course  is 
continually  reviewed,  and  we  pass  censures  upon  our- 
selves, and  upon  that  account  survey  our  own  works.  And 
by  how  much  the  more  carefully  and  often  this  is  done, 
so  much  the  more  delectable  it  will  be;  that  is,  the  more 
approvable  we  shall  find  them  upon  review.  For  we  shall 
order  our  course  the  more  warily,  as  we  reckon  upon 
undergoing  an  inquisition  and  search ;  wherein  an  appre- 
hensive serious  heart  well  understands  it  is  not  itself  to 
be  the  supreme  judge.  How  blessed  an  imitation  might 
there  here  be  of  the  blessed  God  himself,  who  we  find 
beheld  his  six  days'  works,  and  lo  they  were  all  very  good ; 
whereupon  follows  his  delightful  day  of  rest :  so  we  shall, 
in  some  degree  of  conformity  to  him,  finding  our  works  to 
be  in  that  sort  good,  as  that  he  will  by  gracious  indulgence 
accept  them  as  such,  have  our  own  sabbath,  a  sweet  and 
peaceful  rest  in  our  own  spirits.  Though  we  can  pretend 
no  higher  than  sincerity  only,  yet  how  sweet  are  the  reflec- 
tions of  a  well-instructed  conscience  upon  that !  When  our 
hearts  reproach  us  not,  and  we  resolve  they  shall  not  as 
long  as  we  live  ;  we  are  conscious  to  ourselves  of  no  base 
designs,  we  propose  nothing  to  ourselves  wherein  we  ap- 
prehend cause  to  decline  God's  eye;  we  walk  in  the  light, 
and  are  seeking  no  darkness  or  shadow  of  death,  where 
(as  workers  of  iniquity)  we  may  hide  ourselves  from  him ; 
can  implore  him  as  an  a.ssistant,  and  appeal  to  him  as  a 
judge  in  reference  to  our  daily  affairs  and  wonted  course: 
is  this  without  pleasure"?  This  is  our  rejoicing,  saith  the 
apostle,  the  testimony  of  our  conscience,  that  in  simplicity 
and  godly  .sincerity,  not  with  fleshly  wisdom,  but  by  the 
grace  of  God,  we  have  had  our  conversation,  &c.p  And 
thus  to  converse  with  God,  and  him  whom  we  daily  design 
to  glorify  and  serve,  and  whom  we  expect  daily  in  some 
measure,  and  fully  and  finally  ere  it  be  long,  to  enjoy,  is 
certainly  throughout  a  way  of  pleasantness  and  peace. 
How  delectable  then  is  the  soul-rectifying  communication 
from  God,  whereby,  being  before  so  disaffected,  it  becomes 
now  so  well  inclined  towards  him  in  all  these  respects. 
But  because  the  exigency  of  the  case  did  require  (by  rea- 

to  love  or  delight  in  any  thing  but  it  must  be  so.    For  whie  it  perscveren,  every 
latter  act  justifies  the  former,  and  takes  complacency  therein, but  all  as  direct- 
ed towards  such  an  object, 
o  Ps  xl.  p  2  Car.  i.  i'i. 


Paht  I. 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


3G1 


son  of  sin  that  had  cut  off  the  intercourse)  that  there  should 
be  a  mediator  to  open  the  wa)'  and  renew  the  former  out- 
worn friendship ;  therefore  it  was  also  necessary  that  so 
the  soul  might  duly  move  towards  God,  it  should  be  rightly 
framed  and  disposed  also  towards  him. 

We  are  therefore  to  consider  too,  how  delectable  this 
commimication  must  be,  as  it  aright  disposes  the  heart  to- 
wards Christ,  our  way  to  God.  For  towards  him  we  must 
understand  it  to  have  been  most  obstmately  and  inflexibly 
averse;  and  that  therefore  a  mighty  communication  of 
power  was  necessary  to  set  it  right  here.  Unto  that  part 
of  religion  which  is  natural,  there  was  so  much  of  an  ad- 
vantage beforehand,  as  that  there  was  an  old  foundation 
to  build  upon.  There  are  some  notions  of  God  left,  not 
only  concerning  his  existence,  but  his  nature  and  attributes, 
many  of  them:  and  from  the  apprehension  what  he  was, 
it  was  in  some  measure  discernible  what  we  should  have 
been,  and  ought  yet  to  be  towards  him  ;  and  from  ihence 
many  checks  and  rebukes  of  conscience  wherein  it  was 
found  to  be  otherwise  :  so  that  here  was  somewhat  in  na- 
ture to  be  wrought  upon,  as  to  this  part  of  religion.  But 
as  to  that  part  which  respects  the  Mediator,  this  was  a 
frame  wholly  to  be  raised  up  from  the  ground.  There 
were  no  principles  immediately  and  directly  inclining  to 
take  part  with  the  Gospel ;  but  all  to  be  implanted  anew. 
The  way  that  God  would  take  to  bring  back  souls  to  him 
being  so  infinitely  above  all  human  thought.  And  there- 
fore, though  to  a  considering  pagan  it  would  not  sound 
strangely,  that  God  ought  to  be  trusted,  feared,  loved,  &c. 
yet  even  to  such  the  Gospel  of  Christ  was  foolishness.  Be- 
sides, that  this  way  of  dealing  with  men  was  not  only  un- 
known and  unimaginable  to  them,  not  so  much  as  once 
thought  of,  or  to  be  guest  at ;  but  the  tendency  and  aspect 
of  it  (when  it  should  come  to  be  made  known)  was  such 
as  that  it  could  not  but  find  the  temper  of  men's  spirits  most 
strongly  opposite,  not  merely  ignorant,  but  prejudiced  and 
highly  disaffected.  For  this  course  most  directl}'  tended 
to  take  men  quite  off  from  their  old  bottom  ;  to  stoop  and 
humble,  and  even  bring  them  to  nothing  ;  to  stain  the  pride 
of  their  glory,  and  lay  tliem  down  in  the  dust  as  abject 
wretches,  in  themselves  fit  for  nothing,  but  to  be  trampled 
on  and  crushed  by  the  foot  of  divine  revenge.  Suppose  a 
man  to  have  admitted  a  conviction  from  the  light  of  his 
own  mind  or  conscience  that  he  was  a  sinner,  and  had 
offended  his  Maker,  incurred  his  just  displeasure,  and 
made  himself  liable  to  his  punishing  justice  ;  it  would  yet 
have  been  a  hard  matter  to  make  him  believe  it  altogether 
impossible  to  him  to  do  any  thing  to  remedy  the  matter, 
and  restore  himself  to  divine  favour  and  acceptance.  He 
would  naturally  be  inclined  to  think  ;  why,  admit  the  ease 
be  so,  he  should  easilj''  find  out  away  to  make  God  amends. 
He  would  recount  with  himself  all  his  own  natural  excel- 
lencies, and  think  himself  very  capable  of  doing  some 
great  thing,  that  should  more  than  expiate  his  ofl'ence,  and 
make  recompense  abundantly  for  an}'  wrong  that  he  had 
done.  But  when  the  Gospel  shall  come  and  tell  him  he 
hath  deserved  eternal  wrath,  that  his  sin  is  inexpiable  but 
by  everlasting  suftierings,  or  what  is  of  equal  value  ;  that 
here  is  one  (the  eternal  Son  of  God)  Avho  became  a  man 
like  himself,  and  thereupon  a  voluntary  sacrifice,  to  make 
atonement  for  the  transgression  of  men;  that  God  will 
never  accept  another  sacrifice  for  the  sins  of  men  than  his, 
nor  ever  any  service  at  their  hands,  but  for  his  sake  ;  that 
him  now  revealed  to  them  the)^  must  receive,  rely  upon, 
and  trust  to  wholly,  or  perish  without  mercy ;  yea,  and 
that  he  hath  put  the  government  over  them  into  his  hands, 
laid  it  on  his  shoulders,  and  to  him  they  must  subject 
themselves  as  their  Ruler  and  Judge,  the  great  Arbiter  of 
life  and  death  to  them  and  all  men ;  that  they  are  to  be 
entirely  devoted  to  him  as  long  as  the}'  live,  as  their  Re- 
deemer and  Lord ;  in  him  as  they  are  to  have  righteous- 
ness and  strength,  so  to  him  they  must  pay  all  possible 
homage  and  subjection,  to  him  their  knees  must  bow,  and 
their  tongues  confess;  they  must  receive  the  law  from 
his  mouth,  be  prescribed  to  by  him,  comply  with  his  will, 
though  never  so  much  to  the  crossing  of  their  own  ;  and 
though,  notwithstanding  they  must  know  they  can  deserve 
nothing  by  it ;  that  so  vile  and  worthless  miscreants  they 

qZCor.  V.  15.  rSCor.  i. 


are  become  that  God  will  never  have  to  do  with  them  upon 
other  terms. 

When  this  shall  appear  the  state  of  the  case,  and  it  comes 
to  be  apprehended,  "  Then  must  I  yield  myself  a  greater 
transgressor  than  ever  I  thought,  and  an  undone,  impotent, 
helpless  wretch  ;  I  sliall  thus  make  nothing  of  myself; 
and  what  must  all  my  natural  or  acquired  excellencies  go 
just  for  nothing  1  and  a  person  of  such  worth  and  accom- 
plishments as  I,  be  thus  brought  down  into  the  dust  ?  yea, 
and  besides,  to  be  brought  under  such  bonds,  and  profess 
to  owe  myself  so  entirely  to  a  Redeemer,  that  I  must  for 
ever  live  after  his  will  and  pleasure,  and  no  more  at  my 
own;  and  can  never  hope,  if  I  take  a  liberty  to  indulge 
myself  besides  the  allowance  of  his  rules,  that  I  can  ever 
make  any  amends  for  such  transgression  by  any  thing  that 
I  can  do  ]  so  that  by  taking  his  gift  (of  my  pardon  and 
life)  upon  such  terms,  I  shall  sell  my  liberty,  and  render 
myself  a  perfect  slave  to  his  will  and  pleasure  for  everl" 
Here  now  cannot  but  be  a  strong  stream  to  be  striven 
against,  and  most  vehement  counter-strivings  of  the 
haughty  and  licentious  spirit  of  man.  So  that  it  is  not 
strange  it  should  be  said  by  our  Saviour,  No  man  can  come 
unto  me  except  my  Father  draw  him.  And  that  the  ex- 
ceeding greatness  of  power,  according  to  the  workings  of 
the  mightiest  power  in  any  case,  should  be  put  forth  upon 
them  that  believe.  Therefore  are  men  in  Christ  by  cre- 
ative power  only  ;  if  any  man  be  in  Christ,  he  is  a  new 
creature. '5  He  is  new  made,  if  he  be  in  him.  And  this 
aversion  being  so  deeply  natural,  will  still  in  a  degree 
remain  (while  any  thing  of  corrupt  nature  remains)  in  the 
hearts  of  even  the  regenerate  themselves. 

Therefore  a  continual  exertion  of  the  same  power  will 
be  ever  requisite  to  hold  souls  to  Christ,  and  retain  them 
in  their  station  in  him.  He  that  establisheth  us  with  you  in 
Christ,'  is  God,  &c.  q.  d.  it  is  only  a  God  that  can  do  this. 
Therefore  how  is  God  admired  and  adored  upon  this  sin- 
gle account.  Now  to  him  that  is  of  power  to  establish  you 
according  to  my  Gospel,  and  the  preaching  of  Jesus  Christ 
according  to  the  revelation  of  the  mystery,^  which  was 
kept  secret  since  the  world  began,  (this  was  indeed  a  great 
secret  to  the  lapsed  world,) — To  God  only  wise  be  glory 
through  Jesus  Christ  for  ever.  Amen.  But  as  the  heart- 
rectifying  communication  from  God,  in  this  matter,  is  such 
as  carries  mighty  power  with  it,  so  it  doth  proportionable 
pleasure,  when  it  hath  overcome,  and  (to  the  pitch  of  sin- 
cerity) set  the  soul  right  in  this  thing.  How  delectable  is 
it  to  "receive  the  Son  of  God,  when  the  heart  is  made  wil- 
ling in  the  day  of  power  !  when  his  cords  take  hold  of  the 
soul,  and  draw  it  to  him!  what  pleasure  is  there  in  the 
consenting,  self-resigning  act  and  disposition  ! 

It  is  most  highly  delightful  to  receive  him,  and  give  up 
ourselves  to  him  as  our  full  suitable  good,  so  exactly  an- 
swering all  the  exigencies  of  our  distres.sed  case;  when 
sensibly  apprehending  the  true  state  of  it,  the  soul  cries 
out,  "None  but  Christ,"  and  finds  him  present,  waiting 
only  for  consent,  readily  offering  himself,  "Here  I  am, 
take  me,  thy  Jesus,  thy  ht?lp,  thy  life  !"  How  overcomingly 
pleasant  is  this  to  a  soul  that  feels  its  distress,  and  per- 
ceives itself  ready  to  perish;  yea,  and  that  daily  sees  ii.self 
perishing,  were  it  not  for  him  !  How  pleasant,  when  in 
the  tiineof  love  he  finds  the  poor  soul  in  its  blood,  and 
says  to  it.  Live  ;  clothes  it,  decks  it,  makes  it  perfect 
through  his  own  comeliness,  temlcrs  himself  to  it,  unto  it 
faken'off  the  dunghill,  cast  out  in  the  most  loathsome  de- 
))lorable  plight ;  and  enters  the  marriage  covenant  with  it, 
(we  need  not  be  squeamish  or  shy  to  speak  after  God  him- 
self, so  representing  this  matter,)  overcomes  by  his  own 
mercy  and  goodness,  and  prevails  with  a  sinful  creature  to 
accept  him.  How  gladlv  doth  it  throw  off  every  thing  of 
its  own,  that  it  mav  entirely  possess  him  and  be  possessed 
by  him.  Here  is  the  joy  of  a  nuptial  solemnity,  or  the  joy 
of  espousals.  "  I  am  my  beloved's  and  my  beloved  is  mine." 
While  as  yet  this  transaction  is  not  distinctly  reflected  on, 
(as  when  possibly  afterwards  it  is,  there  may  great  diflS- 
culties  and  doubts  arise,  whether  all  were  rightly  done,  or 
yet  be  on  its  own  part,  yea  or  no,')  if  however  it  be  truly 
done,  in  the  very  doing  itself,  and  the  same  continuing 
disposition,  there'  is  a  sensible  and  inseparable  delight.     I 


362 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


Part  I. 


say  in  the  ?ame  disposition  as  ofttn  as  by  any  repeated 
acts  of  thfr  same  kind,  it  expresses  and  shows  itself:  that 
is,  as  often  as  this  covenant  is  -enewed,  (whether  with 
solemnity  or  more  occasionally, j  though  ihe  relation  aris- 
ing thence  be  not  in  the  same  instant  considered  or  re- 
flected on,  nor  the  sincerity  of  the  act  itself,  which  is  ne- 
cessary thereto ;  yet  that  very  consent  itself,  if  it  be  sin- 
cere, hath  a  secret  joy  accompanying  it;  and  the  soul  feels 
the  gratefulness  and  pleasure  of  its  own  act,  though  it  do 
not  for  the  present  examine  and  lake  a  view  of  it.  For  it 
is  now  from  a  principle  of  life,  embracing  and  drawing 
into  union  with  itself  an  object  that  is  all  life,  and  good- 
ness, and  sweetness ;  which  therefore  sheds  its  own  de- 
lightful savour  and  fragrancy  through  the  soul,  while  it  is 
in  the  mean  time  acting  only  upon  the  object  directly,  and 
not  reflecting  upon  its  own  act,  or  considering  in  that  very 
instant  what  will  be  consequential  thereupon.  But  if 
withal  it  do  consider,  (as  that  consideration  cannot  be  far 
ofi",  though  it  cannot  consider  every  thing  at  once,)  that  it 
is  receiving  him  that  is  to  bring  it  to  God,  who  is  able  to 
do  it,  (even  to  save  to  the  uttermost  all  that  will  come  to 
God  by  him,)  who  is  intent  upon  that  design,  and  did  in 
the  midst  of  dying  agonies  breathe  forth  his  soul  in  the 
prosecution  of  it,  and  with  whom  God  requires  it  to  unite 
for  this  very  purpose  ;  this  cannot  but  add  unspeakably  to 
the  delightfulness  of  this  transaction,  and  of  this  effusion 
of  the  Holy  Ghost,  in  the  virtue  whereof  the  thing  is  done, 
how  oft  soever  it  be  seriously  done ;  as  our  case  and  state 
require  that  it  be  very  often. 

And  to  receive  him  as  our  Lord,  (which  is  joined  with 
that  other  capacity  wherein  we  receive  him,  viz.  of  a  Jesus 
pr  Saviour;  as  ye  have  received  Christ  Jesus  the  Lord,' 
so,  &«.)  This  also,  and  the  heart-subduing  influence  that 
disposes  to  it,  is  most  highly  delectable.  When  the  soul, 
that  was  so  stoutly  averse,  and  that  once  said  within  itself, 
"  1  will  not  have  him  to  reign  over  me,"  is  brought  freely 
to  yield  ;  and  with  sincere,  loyal  resolutions  and  affections 
devotes  itself  to  him,  consents  to  his  government,  submits 
its  neck  and  shoulder  to  his  yoke  and  burden  ;  says  to  him 
with  an  ungainsaying  heart,  as  its  full  sense,  "Now  thou 
Lord  of  ray  life  and  hope,  who  hast  so  long  striven  with 
me.  so  often  and  earnestly  pressed  me  hereto,  so  variously 
lealt  with  me,  to  make  me  understand  thy  merciful  de- 
sign, and  who  seekest  to  rule  with  no  other  aim  or  intent, 
feut  that  thou  mayest  save  ;  and  who  hast  founded  thy  do- 
minion in  thy  blood,  and  didst  die  and  revive,  and  rise 
again,  that  thou  mightest  be  Lord  of  the  living  and  dead, 
and  therefore  my  Lord  :  accept  now  a  self-resigning  soul ; 
I  make  a  free  surrender  of  myself,  I  bow  and  submit  to 
thy  sovereign  power,  I  fall  at  the  footstool  of  thy  throne, 
thou  Prince  of  the  kings  of  the  earth,  who  hast  loved  sin- 
ners, and  washed  them  from  their  sins  in  thy  blood  ;  glory 
in  thy  conquest,  thou  hast  overcome,  I  will  from  hence- 
forth be  no  longer  mine  own,  but  thine  ;  I  am  ready  to  re- 
ceive thy  commands,  to  do  thy  will,  to  serve  thy  interests, 
to  sacrifice  my  all  to  thy  name  and  honour ;  my  whole 
life  and  being  are  for  ever  thine."  I  say,  (as  before,)  there 
is  pleasure  in  the  very  doing  this  itself,  as  often  as  it  is 
sincerely  done  ;  and  it  adds  hereto,  if  it  be  more  distinct- 
ly considered,  it  is  no  mean  or  any  way  undeserving  per- 
son to  whom  this  homage  is  paid,  and  obligation  taken  on 
unto  future  obedience.  He  is  the  brightness  of  the  Fa- 
ther's glory,  the  express  image  of  his  person,  the  heir  of 
all  things,  and  who  sustains  all  things  by  the  word  of  his 
power;  it  is  he  whose  name  is  Wonderful,  Counsellor, 
the  mighty  God,  the  everlasting  Father,  the  Prince  of 
peace;  'tis  he  to  whom  all  power  is  given  both  in  heaven 
i,nd  earth,  and  (more  especially)  power  over  all  flesh,  that 
he  might  give  eternal  life  to  as  many  as  were  given  him ; 
'tis  he  who  spoiled  principalities  and  powers,  and  made 
tn  open  show  of  them;  he  whom  because  when  he  was 
.n  the  form  of  God,  and  thought  it  no  robbery  to  be  equal 
<vith  God,  he  humbled  himself,  made  himself  of  no  repu- 
tation, took  on  him  the  form  of  a  servant,  became  obedi- 
ent to  death,  the  Father  hath  therefore  highly  exalted,  and 
given  him  a  name  above  every  name,  that  in  his  name 
•very  knee  should  bow  ;  and  of  whom,  when  he  brought 
him  (his  first-born)  into  the  world,  he  said,  "Let  all  the 
angels  of  God  worship  him." 

t  Col.  u  6.  u  Psal.  xcvij  ^  Rom.  xiv.  17. 


And  such  a  one  he  is,  whose  temper  is  all  goodness  and 
sweetness.  Tell  Sion,  thv  King  cometh  meek  and  lowly. 
He  came  into  this  world  drawn  down  only  by  his  own  pity 
and  love,  beholding  the  desolations  and  ruins  that  were 
wrought  in  it  every  where.  Sin  universally  reigning,  and 
death  by  sin,  and  spreading  its  dark  shadow,  and  a  dread- 
ful cloud  over  all  the  earth.  In  which  darkness  the  prince 
thereof  was  ruling  and  leading  men  captive  at  his  will ; 
having  drawn  them  off  from  the  blessed  God  their  life,  and 
sunk  them  into  a  deep  oblivion  of  their  own  original ;  and 
disafl^ection  to  their  true  happiness  that  could  only  be  found 
there.  This  great  Lord  and  Prince  of  life  and  peace  came 
down  on  purpose  to  be  the  Restorer  of  souls,  to  repair  the 
desolations  and  ruins  of  many  generations.  He  came  full 
of  grace  and  truth,  and  hath  scattered  blessings  over  the 
world  wheresoever  he  came;  hath  infinitely  obliged  all 
that  ever  knew  him ;  and  is  he  in  whom  all  the  nations  of 
the  earth  must  be  blessed.  And  who  would  not  with  joy 
swear  fealty  to  him,  and  take  pleasure  to  do  him  homage  1 
Who  would  not  recount  with  delight  the  unexpressible  fe- 
licity of  living  under  the  governing  power  of  such  a  one  1 

And  if  the  tenor  and  scope  of  all  his  laws  and  consti- 
tutions be  viewed  over,  what  will  they  be  found,  but  obli- 
gations upon  men  to  be  happy  1  How  easy  his  yoke,  how 
light  his  burden;  what  is  the  frame  of  his  kingdom,  or 
whereof  doth  it  consist,  but  righteousness,  peace,  and  joy 
in  the  Holy  Ghost  1  And  who  would  not  now  say,  "  This 
Lord  reigneth,  let  the  earth  rejoice,  let  the  multitude  of  the 
isles  be  glad  thereof""  Why  should  ii  not  be  triumphing- 
ly  said  among  the  heathen,  that  the  Lord  reigneth,  that 
the  world  also  shall  be  established,  that  it  cannot  be  mov- 
ed :  let  the  heavens  rejoice,  and  the  earth  be  glad  ;  let  the 
sea  roar,  and  the  fulness  thereof;  let  the  fields  rejoice, 
and  all  that  is  therein,  and  all  the  trees  of  the  wood  rejoice ! 
It's  plain,  that  be  the  matter  of  joy  here  what  it  will,  be 
there  never  so  much  cause  of  exultation  and  glorying  in 
him,  the  righteousness  and  peaces  which  his  kingdom  pro- 
mises, never  actually  take  place,  nor  the  joy  that  is  con- 
nected therewith,  till  the  Holy  Ghost  dispose  and  form 
men's  spirits  thereto.  For  all  this  is  but  mere  dream  and 
idle  talk  to  those  who  hear  only  of  these  things,  and  feel 
not  that  vital  influence  insinuating  itself,  that  may  give 
the  living  sense  and  savour  of  them.  And  we  may  rather 
expect  seas  and  fields,  beasts  and  trees,  to  sing  his  tri- 
umphant song,  and  chant  his  praises,  than  those  men  who.se 
hearts  are  not  attempered  to  his  government,  and  who  are 
yet  under  the  dominion  of  another  Lord,  not  being  yet  by 
the  law  of  the  spirit  of  life  in  Christ  Jesus,  made  free  from 
the  law  of  sin  and  death.  But  where  this  is  effectually 
done,  how  large  matter  of  most  rational  pleasure  do  they 
find  here;  while  there  is  nothing  in  that  whole  system  of 
laws  by  which  he  governs,  that  is  either  vain,  unequal,  or 
unpleasant,  or  upon  any  account  grievous !  only  there  is 
not  the  estimate  of  distempered  spirits,  or  of  any  other 
than  them  in  whose  hearts  his  law  is  written,  and  who  be- 
cause they  love  him,  keep  his  commandments. y  Unto  love 
his  commands  are  most  connatural ;  for  this  is  the  love  of 
God,  that  we  keep  his  commandments ;  they  are  not 
grievous, 2  i.  e.  by  the  meiosis  which  some  do  reasonably 
enough  apprehend  in  those  words,  they  are  joyous,  de- 
lightful, pleasant,  but  to  them  only  who,  being  born  of 
God,  have  overcome  the  world.  This  holy  influence  and 
communication  of  God  is  therefore  grateful,  and  contri- 
butes not  a  little  to  delight  in  this  respect,  that  thereby 
men's  spirits  are  rectified  and  set  right  towards  God,  viz. 
both  towards  the  Creator  and  Redeemer. 

2.  As  hereby  they  are  rectified  towards  men,  having  the 
universal  law  of  love  wrought  deep  into  their  hearts  ;  be- 
ing filled  with  all  goodness,  righteousness,  meekness,  mer- 
cifulness; apt  to  do  no  wrong,  to  bear  any,  to  pity  and 
help  the  distressed,  to  love  enemies,  and  as  there  is  oppor- 
tunity, to  do  good  to  all,  especially  to  them  that  are  of^the 
household  of  faith.  We  must  understand  in  this,  as  well 
as  in  the  other  parts  of  that  stamp  which  the  spirit  of  God 
puts  on  the  souls  of  men,  that  the  impression  corresponds 
and  answers  to  the  seal,  (as  hath  been  said,)  the  inward 
communication  to  the  outward  revelation  of  God's  will; 
and  so  we  find  the  matter  is:  for  as  divine  precepts  re- 
quire this  should  be  the  temper  of  men's  spirits,  so  the  very 
y  John  xy.  z  I  Jolin  v.  3, 


Paht  I. 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


863 


things  that  compose  and  make  up  that  blessed  temper,  are 
said  to  be  the  fruiis  of  his  own  Spirit ;  The  fruit  of  the 
Spirit  is  peace,  long-sufierin,^,  gentleness,  goodness,  meek- 
ness, =■  &c.  And  again,  TJie  fruit  of  the  Spirit  is  in  all 
goodness,  and  righteousness,  and  truth,  b  Now  hath  not 
that  soul  a  spring  of  pleasure  within  itself,  that  is  in  these 
respects  as  God  would  have  it  be  1  That  is  conscious  to 
itself  of  nothing  but  righteousness,  goodness,  benignity, 
candour  towards  any  man,  and  is  in  all  things  acted  by  a 
spirit  of  love,  that  suffereth  long,  and  is  kind,  that  envieth 
not,  that  vaunteth  not  itself,  is  not  puffed  up,  doth  not  be- 
have itself  unseemly,  seeketh  not  its  own,  is  not  easily 
provoked,  thinkeih  no  evil,  rejoiceth  not  in  iniquity,  but 
rejoiceth  in  the  truth,  that  bcareth  all  things,  believeth  all 
things,  hopeth  all  things,  endureth  all  things,  and  never 
faileth.  "^  That  so  equally  poises  and  acts  a  man's  spirit, 
that  he  carries  seemly  and  suitable  towards  all  men,  takes 
pleasure  in  the  best;  in  the  saints  and  excellent  ones  of  the 
earth  hath  all  his  delight ;  and  is  no  worse  affected,  than 
to  wish  them  better,  even  towards  the  very  worst;  neither 
envies  the  greatest,  nor  despises  the  meanest;  neither  is 
revengeful  towards  them  that  injure  him,  nor  unthankful 
to  them  that  oblige  him  ;  that  is  apt  to  learn  of  good  men, 
and  to  teach  the  bad,  by  observing  and  giving  the  most 
imitable  example ;  that  is  not  undutiful  to  superiors,  nor 
morose  and  unconversable  towards  equals  ;  that  lives  not 
to  himself;  is  a  common  good  to  all  within  the  sphere 
through  which  his  activity  can  extend  itself;  that  doth 
good  with  inclination,  from  the  steady  propension  of  his 
own  will,  and  an  implanted  principle  of  goodness.  It  is 
evident,  God  hath  formed  such  a  man's  spirit  unto  delight 
of  the  purest  kind,  and  the  best  sort  of  pleasure ;  unto 
which  they  who  are  strangers,  banish  it  from  their  own 
breasts,  by  the  resistance  and  grief  they  give  his  blessed 
Spirit,  thereby  making  it  a  stranger  there  ;  and  by  har- 
bouring in  their  own  bosoms  their  own  tormentors,  the 
pride,  the  wrath,  the  en\y,  the  malice,  the  revengefulness, 
the  bitterness  of  spirit,  which  as  they  render  them  uneasy 
and  intolerable  to  all  that  are  abotit  them,  so  most  of  all  to 
themselves ;  and  which  while  they  prey  Avherever  they 
range  abroad,  yet  still  bite  most  keenly  and  tormentingly 
that  heart  itself  wherein  the}'  are  bred ;  as  poisonous  vipers 
gnawing  the  bowels  which  enclose  them. 

3.  Towards  themselves  :  which  also  may  be  considered 
distinctly ;  for  though  all  the  good  qualifications  we  can 
mention  or  think  of,  do  redound  to  a  man's  self,  and  turn 
to  his  own  advantage,  repose,  and  delight,  (which  it  is  the 
design  of  all  this  discourse  to  show,)  yet  there  are  souie 
that  more  directly  terminate  on  a  man's  self,  wherein  the 
rectitude  we  now  speak  of  doth  in  great  part  consist. 
When  we  are  obliged  to  love  others  as  ourselves,  it  sup- 
poses not  only  an  allowable,  but  a  laudable  self-love.  Men 
shall  praise  thee  when  thou  dost  well  to  thyself.  Before 
this  right  spirit  be  renewed  in  a  man,  he  doth  not  only 
wound  himself,  by  blows  that  are  reflected  on  him,  and 
hurt  at  the  reboimd,  but  by  many  a  direct  stroke ;  or  lets  the 
wounds  fester  and  corrupt,  to  (he  cure  whereof  he  shoukl 
with  all  diligence  directly  apply  himself.  How  unpro- 
pitious  and  cruel  to  themselves  are  all  unholy  persons! 
what  wastes  and  desolations  do  they  commit  and  make  in 
their  own  souls,  by  breaking  the  order  God  and  nature  did 
at  first  set  and  establish  there  ]  dethroning  their  own  reason 
and  judgment,  which  ought  to  bear  sway  and  govern  within 
them.  Tins  banishes  delight,  and  drives  it  far  away  from 
them.  They  see  what  is  fittest  for  them  to  do  and  seek, 
and  run  a  quite  counter-course.  What  storms  do  they 
hereby  raise  in  their  own  bosoms !  What  a  torture  is  it, 
when  a  man's  own  light  and  knowledge  bear  a  standing 
testimony  against  him,  and  hold  him  imder  a  continual 
doom !  How  ill-disposed  are  men  towards  themselves, 
■when  they  wholly  neglect  themselves  in  one  kind,  when 
they  too  much  mind  and  seek  themselves  in  another ;  when 
they  too  little  understand  themselves,  so  as  not  to  put  a 
true  value  on  themselves,  but  do  either  di.sesteem  them- 
selves, as  to  their  more  noble  part,  in  respect  of  that  com- 
mon excellency  which  belongs  to  them  with  all  other  men ; 
or  do  over-magnify  themselves,  and  are  conceited  and  too 
well  opinioned  of  themselves,  in  respect  of  any  peculiar 
excellency  wherein  they  imagine  they  outstrip  others !  How 
a  Gal.  V.  ort,  23.  b  Epli.  v.  D.  c  1  Cor.  xiii. 


ill  do  they  treat  themselves  in  their  self-indulgence,  their 
gratifying  iheir  own  sensual  inclination,  with  the  greatest 
danger  and  damage  to  their  souls;  when  they  care  not  at 
what  expense  they  make  provi.sion  for  the  flesh,  to  fulfil 
the  lusts  thereof!  What  unkind  u.sage  do  they  find  at  their 
own  hands,  when  they  cherish  and  countenance  desires 
which  they  cannot  gratifj'^,  and  raise  to  themselves  expecta- 
tions of  things  not  within  their  own  power,  which  being 
disappointed  turn  into  so  many  furies,  and  in  tlial  shape 
take  a  sharp  revenge  upon  their  own  hearts  !  when  they 
exercise  no  authority  and  dominion  over  themselves,  pre- 
serve not  the  liberty  due  to  what  should  both  be  itself  free, 
and  should  command  the  rest  in  them  ;  enslaves  themselves 
to  vile  and  ignominious  lusts  and  passions,  put  out  their 
own  eyes,  and  grind  blindfold  to  the  basest  and  most  ty- 
rannical lords,  their  own  sordid  humours,  and  base,  mean 
appetites !  when  though  they  serve  more  rigorous  task- 
masters than  the  Israelites  in  Egypt  did,  and  are  more 
sorely  beaten  by  them  when  their  tale  is  not  fulfilled  for 
want  of  materials,  yet  groan  not  becau.se  of  their  hard 
bondage,  nor  affect  liberty !  This  gracious  communication 
from  God,  sets  all  things  in  a  good  degree  right  within : 
so  that  where  there  was  nothing  before,  but  horrid  and 
hellish  darkness,  disorder,  and  confusion,  there  now  sliines 
a  mild,  pleasant,  cheerful  light,  that  infers  regularity,  pu- 
rity, and  peace. 

iHow  great  is  the  pleasttre  that  arises  from  self-denial, 
(wherein  we  do,  duly  and  as  we  ought,  deny  ourselves,) 
not  only  as  it  is  an  act  of  duty  towards  God,  (of  which 
before,)  but  as  it  is  an  act  of  justice  and  mercy  towards  our 
own  souls  !  That  is,  wherein  we  make  a  ju.st  and  true 
estimate  of  ourselves,  do  esteem  basely  of  ourselves ;  where- 
in we  are  really  become  base  and  vile;  and  wherein  there 
is  any  thing  of  real  value  and  excellency  in  our  own  beings, 
we  value  il  only  upon  that  account,  and  in  that  subordina- 
tion wherein  it  "is  truly  valuable!  How  pleasant,  when  we 
have  learned  to  forsake  and  abandon  ourselves,  when  we 
are  not  apt  to  magnify  and  applaud,  to  trust  or  love,  to 
seek  and  serve  ourselves  unduly,  and  are  only  inclined  to 
own,  to  cleave  and  stick  to  ourselves,  wherein  and  so  far 
as  we  ought  I  when  that  idol  self  is  so  no  longer  maintained 
within  us,  at  the  dear  expense  of  our  peace,  comfort,  safely, 
and  eternal  hope  ;  an  idol  that  engrossed  the  whole  sub- 
stance of  our  souls,  that  exhausted  and  devoured  the 
strength  and  vigour  of  our  spirits,  which  it  doth  not  main- 
tain, and  cnnnot  repair;  which  consumes  our  time,  which 
keeps  all  our  powers  and  facul  ies  in  a  continual  exercise 
and  hurry,  to  make  a  cosily,  a  vain,  an  unlawful  provision 
for  it !  How  great  is  the  case  and  pleasure  which  "we  feel, 
in  being  delivered  from  that  soul-wasting  monster,  that 
was  fed  and  sustained  at  a  dearer  rate,  and  with  more 
costly  sacrifices  and  repasts,  than  can  be  paralleled  by 
either  sacred  or  other  history;  that  hath  made  more  deso- 
lation in  the  souls  of  men,  than  ever  was  made  in  their 
towns  and  cities,  where  idols  were  served  by  only  human 
sacrifices,  or  mon.strous  t;reatures  satiated  with  only  such 
refections  ;  or  where  the  lives  and  safely  of  the  most  were 
to  be  bought  out  by  the  constant  suce.ssive  tribute  of  the 
blood  of  not  a  few  !  that  hath  devcnired  more,  and  preyed 
more  cruelly  upon  human  lives,  than  Moloch,  or  the  Mino- 
taur 1  When  this  monstrous  idol  is  destroyed  and  trodden 
down,  what  a  jubilee  doth  it  make,  what  songs  of  trirunph 
and  praise  doth  it  fiirnish  and  supply  to  the  poor  soul,  now- 
delivered  and  redeemed  from  death  and  bondage  !  How 
much  more  easv  and  rea-^ouable  a  service  is  it  (wlien  once 
the  grace  of  God  and  their  own  experience  give  men  to 
understand  it)  tostudy  to  please  him  than  themselves !  when 
thev  feel  themselves  dead  to  their  former  lord  and  ser^-ice, 
and  only  alive  to  God,  through  Jesus  Christ !  when  sin  no 
longer  reigns  in  their  mortal  bc)dies.  that  they  should  obey  it 
in  the  lusts  thereof  I  a  when  they  no  more  yield  their  mem- 
bers as  instruments  of  unrighteousness  unto  sin,  but  have 
yielded  themselves  unto  God,  as  those  that  are  alive  from 
the  dead,  *■  &c.  when  being  made  free  from  sin.  they  are 
become  servants  unto  righteousness !  f  the  law  of  the  Spirit 
of  life  in  Christ  Jesus  having  made  me  free  from  the  law 
of  sin  !  =  What  an  ease  is  it^to  the  spirit  of  a  man,  when 
he  hath  not  himself  to  seek  and  serve  and  care  for  in  any 
unlawful  disallowed  sense ;    when  he  finds  not  himself 

d  Rom.  n.  11,  12.  e  Ver.  13.  f  Ver.  IS.  g  Rom  riii   ?. 


364 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


Part  I. 


necessitated  or  urged  by  his  own  imperious  fleshly  incli- 
nations so  to  do;  when  he  perceives  himself  by  a  prevail- 
ing better  principle  counterpoised,  and  the  weight  and  bias 
of  his  own  spirit  incline  him  quite  another  way ;  when 
he  finds  he  hath  nothing  left  him  to  do,  but  to  serve  God, 
to  know  his  will  and  do  it,  and  is  disburdened  of  all  un- 
necessary care  for  himself;  that  which  is  necessary  being 
part  of  his  duty,  and  is  therefore  done  on  purpose  only 
for  God ;  and  that  which  is  unnecessary  and  forbidden 
(which  part  only  was  burdensome)  being  supplied  by 
(what  hath  the  greatest  ease  and  pleasure  in  it  imagina- 
ble) trust  and  self-resignation  to  his  pleasure  and  will 
whose  we  wholly  are  !  What  life  is  pleasant,  if  this  be 
not !  Surely,  wherein  it  is  attained  to,  it  is  most  pleasant; 
and  hither  this  gracious  heart-rectifying  communication 
is  gradually  tending. 

How  great  is  the  pleasure  that  arises  from  self-govern- 
ment !  when  that  governs  in  us  which  should  govern,  and 
that  is  subject  and  obeys  which  should  obey ;  when  a 
man's  mind  is  competently  furnished  with  directive  prac- 
tical principles,  and  his  heart  is  so  framed  that  it  is  capa- 
ble of  being  prescribed  to,  is  patient  of  restraints  and  di- 
rection, easily  obeys  the  rein  and  follows  the  ducture  of 
an  enlightened  well-instructed  mind ;  when  the  order  is 
maintained  between  the  superior  faculties  and  the  inferior, 
and  there  are  no  contentious  murmurs  of  ungovernable 
appelitions  and  passions  against  the  law  of  the  mind. 
'Tis  true,  that  where  this  holy  rectitude  doth  but  in  a  de- 
gree take  place  there  will  be  many  conflicts,  but  those 
conflicts  are  in  order  to  victory;  and  how  joyful  and  glo- 
rious is  the  triumph  upon  that  victory  !  when  the  soul 
enters  upon  its  iTninKinv,  its  thanksgiving  song,  "  I  thank 
God  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord  !"  how  happy  a  state 
is  that  (wherein  at  some  times  it  is  here  attained)  w^hen 
there  are  now  no  tumults  within  !  The  wicked  (which  is 
the  very  import  of  tlieir  name)  are  as  a  trotibled  sea,  tliat 
cannot  rest,  whose  waters  cast  up  mire  and  dirt.  Here 
is  no  governing  principle  in  any  power ;  no  sceptre,  no 
trident  to  check  and  allay  the  rage  of  those  waters.  But 
when  his  power  goes  forth  in  the  soul,  whose  very  word 
winds  and  seas  obey,  how  peaceful  and  pleasant  a  calm 
doth  ensue  !  Now  is  a  man  restored  to  himself,  and  is 
again  in  his  right  mind.  He  is  truly  now  said  to  enjoy 
himself,  and  upon  the  best  terms ;  that  is,  he  enjoys  him- 
self in  and  under  God.  He  is  (a  due  subordination)  mas- 
ter of  himself.  He  possesses  his  own  soul;  that  one  piece 
of  hcly  rectitude,  patience,  enables  him  to  do  so.  In  your 
patience  possess  ye  your  souls,  h  Patience  is  a  pan  of 
fortitude,  an  ability  to  suffer.  He  that  is  in  this  respect 
impotent  of  himself,  not  able  to  suffer,  is  a  perfect  slave; 
not  a  slave  only  to  the  vicious  wills  and  humours  of  other 
men,  in  whose  power  he  apprehends  it  is  to  befriend  or 
hurt  him ;  but  first  and  chiefly  to  his  own  :  he  is  not 
master  of  his  own  judgment,  reason,  and  conscience  ;  but 
he  prostitutes  all,  in  the  first  place,  to  his  own  inordinate 
self-love,  his  avarice,  his  fear,  and  consequently  to  the 
pleasure  of  other  men,  (which  upon  no  other  terms  and 
inducements  is  base  and  vile  towards  any  man.  were  the 
matter  in  itself  never  so  right,  and  the  obedience  as  due 
to  them  as  can  be  supposed,)  whereas  if  he  could  .sufier, 
he  retained  his  mastery  over  himself,  and  were,  under 
God,  within  his  own  power.  Upon  this,  with  other 
grounds,  is  joyfulness  i  a  companion  of  patience  ;  how 
much  more  is  it  so  (if  to  this  one  part)  to  the  whole  frame 
of  that  holy  rectitude  whereby  a  man's  spirit  is  composed 
to  a  due  order  within  himself;  when  there  is  a  universal 
sobriety,  (or  soundness  of  mind,  as  the  word  that  uses  to 
express  sobriety  signifies,)  a  continency  and  dominion  of 
oneself;  and  tJie  soul  is  no  longer  hurried  to  and  fro, 
and  even  outed  of  itself,  by  undue  desires,  fears,  angers, 
sorrows,  &c.  nor  vexed  by  the  absence  of,  and  its  perverse 
inaptitude  and  indisposition  to,  those  which  it  well  knows 
are  due  ;  when  it  finds  itself  at  liberty  from  the  exactions 
of  an  unsubdued  flesh,  and  for  the  kindly  and  genuine 
operations  and  exercise  of  the  divine  life.  When  it  is  in 
good  measure  freed  from  the  rackings  and  tortures  that 
naturally  accompany  the  habitual  contrariety  of  an  ungo- 
vernable heart  to  a  convinced  judgment  and  conscience  ; 
and  is  no  longer  held  in  pain,  by  such  continual  self-up- 
h  I,uke  Mi.  19.  i  Col  i.  u.  k  Ps.  xxiii.  3. 


braidings;  Thou  art,  and  affectest  to  be,  what  thou  know- 
est  thou  shouldest  not ;  and  neither  art,  nor  dost,  nor 
canst  desire  or  endure  to  be,  or  do,  what  thou  very  well 
knowest  thou  shouldest.  In  that  case  the  soul  is  through- 
out disjointed,  and  continually  grating  upon  itself  And 
the  ease  and  pleasure  which  it  finds  by  this  happy  change 
much  resembles  that  which  a  man's  body,  being  in  such  a 
case,  feels,  when  every  dislocated  bone  is  brought  back 
and  well  settled  in  its  proper  place  and  order  again.  How 
resentingly  doth  the  Psalmist  acknowledge  Divine  good- 
ness in  this!  He  restoreth  my  soul;  and  leadeth  me  in 
paths  of  righteousness,  for  his  name's  sake  ;i!  q.  d.  "Now  I 
can  walk  and  act  as  a  sound  man,  and  the  paths  of  righte- 
ousness are  become  pleasant  and  delectable  to  me,  which 
before  I  declined,  or  wherein  my  halt  and  maimed  soul 
was  unable  to  move  a  step."  Now  is  heard  the  voice  of 
joy  and  gladness,  when  the  bones  which  were  disordered 
and  broken  rejoice. i 

How  great  is  the  joy  and  pleasure  of  self-activity !  when 
the  soul  is  not  moved  by  foreign,  improper  motives,  but 
finds  itself  to  move  freely  from  an  implanted  principle  of 
life,  that  acts  it  forward  in  right  and  plain  paths ;  when  it 
doth,  with  its  own  full  consent,  what  it  is  convinced  it 
ought  without  being  forcibly  dragged  or  violently  imposed 
upon  ;  and  is  (not  a  weak,  ineffectual,  or  only  self-judging, 
but)  a  powerful  governing  vital  law  to  itself. 

How  great  pleasure  arises  from  a  constant,  diligent 
self-inspection  !  when  a  man's  spirit  dwells  within  itself, 
resides  at  home,  seeks  not  itself  abroad ;  remains  within 
its  own  bounds,  is  intent  upon  itself;  watches  over  its 
own  motions  as  its  proper  charge ;  is  formed  to  a  compli- 
ance with  that  precept.  Keep  thy  heart  with  all  diligence.'" 
And  upon  that  consideration,  as  seriously  weighing  that 
ihence  are  the  issues  of  life,  all  vital  acts  and  operations 
whatsoever  will  savour  of  the  root  and  principle  from 
whence  they  proceed,  and  as  the  heart  is  :  good  and  pure 
if  that  be  so;  if  otherwise  corrupt  and  nought.  To  have 
a  spirit  habituated  to  the  business  of  its  own  province  and 
territory ;  its  eyes,  not  with  the  fool's  in  the  ends  of  the 
earth,  but  turned  inward  upon  itself.  Hence  his  own 
vineyard  is  best  kept;  when  the  sluggard's  (that  neglects 
himself)  is  wholly  overrun  with  thorns  and  briers,  that 
cover  the  face  thereof.  How  forlorn  and  comfortless  a 
spectacle  hath  such  a  man  of  his  own  soul !  The  horror 
whereof  is  only  avoided  by  (the  more  hopeless  course  of) 
turning  off  his  eye  ;  as  conscious  how  ill  entertainment  is 
there  to  be  met  with.  Therefore  are  such  strangers  at 
hoDife;  and  are  afraid  to  converse  with  themselves;  are 
better  acquainted  with  the  affairs  of  France  and  Spain,  or 
at  least  of  this  and  that  and  the  other  neighbour,  than 
those  of  their  own  souls.  And  the  more  things  at  home 
are  neglected  the  worse  they  grow.  Poverty  and  desola- 
tion come  upon  them  aoan  armed  man;  that"(in  (his  case) 
waste  and  make  havoc  without  resistance.  And  herein 
lies  much  of  the  heart-rectifying  work  and  power  of  grace, 
in  disposing  and  setting  the"  heart  so  far  right  towards  it- 
self, as  that  it  may  first  have  the  patience  to  look  inwaid. 
and  then  the  pleasure  w^hich  will  afterwards  arise,  irosl 
natural!)',  thence.  The  great  aveision  hereto  of  misgiving 
hearts  is  not  otherwise  overcome.  But  when  it  is,  how 
do  all  things  flourish  under  such  a  one's  careful,  self-re- 
flecting eye  !  That  soul  is  as  a  watered  garden.  ThitJier 
it  can  invite  his  presence  who  is  altogethei  made  up  of 
delights,  to  come  and  eat  his  pleasant  fruits.  And  now, 
retirement  and  solitude  become  delectable  ;  and  a  man 
delightfully  associates  with  himself;  singles  out  himself  to 
be  his  own  companion,  as  finding  another  always  stepping 
in  ;  so  that  he  is  never  less  alone  than  when  alone.  How 
unspeakable  a  happiness  is  this,  when  the  great  Mediator 
that  undertook  to  reconcile  God  to  the  soul,  shall  thus 
have  also  reconciled  it  to  itself!  When  it  shall  be  con 
sidered,  how  dreadful  the  case  is,  when  a  man's  wicked- 
ness hath  transformed  him  into  a  Magor-Missabib,  com- 
passed him  with  affrightments,  made  him  a  terror  to  him- 
self; it  may  then  be  understood  how  grateful  a  change 
it  is  when  he  is  reformed  into  a  son  of  peace,  and  made  a 
delight  to  himself;  when  he  can  recreate  himself,  and  re- 
fresh his  tired  eye,  overcharged  with  beholding  the  sad 
things  that  every  where  come  in  view  from  a  world  lost 
1  Psal.  li.  ni  Prov.  iv.  23. 


Part  I. 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


3G5 


in  wickedness,  by  looking  into  God's  own  plantation  with- 
in himself;  and  considering  it  under  thai  notion  only,  he 
doth  not  look  upon  himself  with  an  eye  of  pride  ;  as  he 
doth  not  upon  others  with  that  of  disdain.  He  beholds 
with  a  sort  of  self-complacency  what  God  hath  wrought 
and  done  there,  not  with  self-arrogance;  as  knowing  there 
is  a  self,  too,  upon  w'hich  he  hath  still  reason  to  look  with 
abhorrence  and  self-loathing.  And  though  there  be  now 
incorporated  with  him  a  better  self,  yet  that  was  not  of 
himself  He  well  understands  who  made  him  ditfer,  not 
only  from  others  but  from  himself;  and  put  him  into  that 
capacity  of  saying  that  I  am  not  I,  I  am  not  who  or  what 
S  I  was  before.     And  the  more  he  is  used  to  such  self-re- 

P  flection,  the  more  pleasant  it  becomes  to  him;  that  is,  if 
he  confine  not  his  eye  too  much,  to  the  dark  side  of  his 
own  soul :  and  to  look  to  the  more  lightsome  side  with 
that  remembrance,  (as  before,)  that  w^hatsoever  he  is,  that 
is  good  and  grateful  to  behold,  he  is  by  grace.  He  thus 
grows  familiar  with  himself,  and  the  sight  mends  as  it  is 
ofien  beheld;  and  while  it  is  not  observed  always  to  do 
so.  Yea,  though  things  look  many  times  sadly  and  some- 
times dubiously ;  that,  however,  doth  but  occasion  the 
accomplishment  of  a  more  diligent  search,  which  engages 
to  more  earnest  labour  and  strugglings  with  God  and  with 
himself;  which  labour  is  recompensed  with  a  following 
fruit  and  pleasure;  yea,  and  God  is  invocated  not  only 
for  redress,  but  for  further  search.  When  such  fear  lest 
they  have  been  too  indulgent  and  partial  towards  them- 
selves, and  lest  they  have  not  made  so  strict  a  scrutiny  as 
the  case  may  possibly  require  ;  then  the  request  is,  "  Search 
and  try  me,  O  Lord,  see  if  there  be  any  way  of  wickedness 
in  me."  And  here  the  sincerity  which  appears  in  that  self- 
suspicion,  and  jealousy  over  their  own  souls,  is  not  with- 
out its  grateful  relishes :  and  a  secret  delight  insinuates 
and  mingles  with  the  appeal  which  such  a  soul  makes  to 
him,  W'hose  eye  is  a  flame  of  fire,  searches  hearts  and  tries 
reins.  And  it  is  some  pleasure,  however,  to  find  that  dis- 
position in  their  own  souls,  thai  they  are  thoroughly  will- 
ing to  know  themselves,  and  desire  not  to  shun  and  decline 
the  search  of  that  fiery  flaming  eye.  Thus  then  upon  all 
accounts  this  divine  communication  is  delectable,  as  it 
tends  to  rectifj'  men's  dispositions  towards  themselves,  and 
to  set  them  right  in  their  inclinations  and  posture  in  re- 
ference to  their  own  souls.     We  may  add, 

4.  It  contributes  much  to  the  matter  of  delight,  as  it 
sets  men's  spirits  right  in  their  dispositions  towards  this 
and  the  other  world,  the  present  and  future  slate  of 
things.  How  great  a  work  is  necessary  to  be  done  in 
this  respect,  wherein  things  are  so  monstrously  out  of 
course ;  and  men  become  thereby  not  strangers  only  to 
true  delight  and  pleasure,  but  even  incapable  of  any  such 
relishes  till  the  matter  be  redressed  !  How  vitiated  and 
unexercised  are  men's  senses  as  to  these  things,  and  un- 
able to  discern  between  good  and  evil  !  Their  grosser 
sense  is  utterly  incompetent,  and  a  spiritual  more  refined 
sense  is  wanting;  therefore  do  they  judge,  and  choose,  and 
love,  and  pursue  onl)^  as  that  most  incompetent  and  inju- 
dicious principle  doth  direct,  that  is  appealed  to  in  all 
cases ;  all  their  measures  are  taken  from  thence,  and  that 
only  is  called  good,  which  to  their  sensual  imagination, 
tinctured  by  the  earthliness  and  carnality  of  their  hearts, 
appears  so;  that  evil,  of  which  the  same  principle  dolh 
so  pronounce ;  according  hereto  is  the  whole  bent  and  in- 
clination of  their  souls.  And  they  are  only  influenced 
and  governed  by  the  powers  of  this  sensible  world  ;  this 
present  evil  world,  the  fashion  whereof  (yea,  it  and  the 
lusts  thereof  together)  are  passing  away.  And  the  things 
of  the  world  to  come  have  no  power  with  them  ;  no  mo- 
tives from  thence  signify  an}'  thing.  They  are  only  steered 
in  their  whole  course  by  the  apprehension  they  have  of 
advantages  or  disadvantages  in  reference  to  their  present 
secular  concernments.  They  love  this  world,  and  the 
things  of  this  world  ;  mind  earthly  things,  and  are  not 
startled  when  they  are  so  plainlytold,  that  men  of  ihis 
character  have  not  the  love  of  the  Father  in  them,  nnd  are 
enemies  to  the  cross  of  Christ,  and  that  their  end  will  be 
destruction.  'Tis  a  death  to  them  to  think  of  dying;  not 
from   the   fear  of  what  may  ensue,  (they  have  atheism 


n  Psnl.  xci. 
Q  I  Cor.  ii.  12. 


o  Psal.  .Twii. 
r  Gal.  vi. 


p  1  Jotin  iv.  4. 
s  Phil.  lii. 


enough  to  stifle  such  fear,)  but  from  the  love  of  their 
earthly  stations,  and  that  vile  earthly  body  in  which  they 
dwell. 

Bui  how  delightful  a  thing  is  the  change  which  this  rec- 
tifying communication  makes!  How  pleasant  to  live  in 
this  world  as  a  pilgrim  and  stranger,  seeking  still  the  bet- 
ter, the  heavenly  country !  To  behold  the  various  entice- 
ments which  are  here  offered  to  view  at  some  times  with- 
out inclination  towards  them  ;  the  frightful  aspect  and 
appearance  of  things  at  other  times  without  commotion; 
is  not  this  delectable  1  To  dwell  apart  from  this  world  in 
t^ie  midst  of  it;  in  the  secret  of  the  Almighty,"  under  his 
pavilion,  as  one  of  his  hidden  ones,  withdrawn  from  the 
communion  of  this  world  to  liis  own  communion ; "  so 
severed  and  cut  off"  from  this  world,  as  not  to  partake  in 
the  spirit  of  it,  or  be  acted  thereby ;  but  by  another,  a 
greater  and  more  mighty,  as  well  as  a  purer  and  more 
holy,  Spirit ;  Greater  is  he  that  is  in  you,  than  he  that  is  in 
the  world.P  And  again.  We  have  received  not  the  spirit 
of  the  world,  but  the  Spirit  which  is  of  God,  that  we 
might  know  the  things  which  are  freely  given  us  of 
God.<i  Which  things  the  Divine  Spirit  disposes  the  soul 
to,  and  unites  it  with,  when  it  disinclines  and  disjoins  it 
from  this  world  and  the  things  thereof;  and  thereby  dis- 
covers this  soul  to  be  quite  of  another  community  from 
that  of  this  world,  viz.  of  a  heavenly  community,  unto 
which  those  better  and  more  excellent  things  do  lie  in 
common,  as  their  portion  and  inheritance.  What  matter 
of  joy  and  glorying  is  it,r  when  one  is  crucified  to  this 
world,  and  this  world  to  him  ;  when  the  world  appears  to 
him  a  crucified  thing,  i.  e.  an  accursed,  hateful,  detestable 
thing,  (which  is  one  notion  of  crucified,)  such  a  thing  as 
he  can  despise  and  hale;  which  he  is  as  little  apt  to  be 
fond  of,  as  one  would  be  of  a  loathsome  carcass  hanging 
upon  an  ignominious  cross :  and  when  he  can  feel  him- 
self crucified  towards  it,  i.  e.  dead,  (another  notion  of  it,) 
disinclined  without  sense,  breath,  pulse,  motion,  or  appe-- 
tite  ;  not  so  dead  as  to  be  without  any  kind  of  life,  but  with- 
out that  base,  low,  sordid  kind  of  life  by  which  he  lived 
to  it,  and  in  its  converses  and  embraces.  So  much  of 
delectation  doth  this  infer,  as  even  to  endear  the  very  cross 
itself  (that  hateful  horrid  thing)  by  which  it  is  cfiected. 
But  that  carries  a  further  signification  with  it,  to  be 
fetched  more  expressly  from  other  scriptures;  the  cross  is 
itself  rendered  amiable,  and  a  thing  to  be  gloried  in,  to  be 
looked  on  with  delisrht  and  pleasure,  upon  the  account  of 
the  design  and  end  of  that  tragedy  which  was  acted  there- 
on ;  within  which  design  (being  executed  and  accom- 
plished) this  happy  effect  is  included.  We  elsewhere  find 
the  apostle  expressing  his  vehement  desire  to  know  Christ 
and  the  power  of  his  resurrection,*  and  (in  order  thereto) 
the  fellowship  of  his  sufferings,  being  made  conformable 
to  his  death.'  But  what  did  he  lastly  aim  at  in  this  1  the 
next  words  more  fully  speak  out  (what  he  first  mentioned) 
the  power  of  his  resurrection  to  be  the  thing  chiefly  in  his 
eye,  and  that  he  desired  (what  he  adds)  the  fellowship  of 
his  suflTerings,  iSlc.  as  a  means  unto  that  end,  though  it 
seemed  a  sharp  and  painful  means ;  If  by  any  means  I 
might  attain  the  resurrection  of  the  dead;"  q  d.l  care  not 
what  I  undergo,  not  the  sufferings  even  of  a  painful  cruci- 
fixion itself;  or  that  my  worldly  earthly  self  do  suffer  con- 
formablv  to  the  sufferings  of  my  crucified  Lord  ;  I  matter 
not  by  vvhat  so  severe  method  the  thing  be  brought  about, 
if  by' any  means  it  might  be  brought  about,  that  1  may 
know  the  power  of  his  resurrection  so  feelingly,  as  lo 
attain  also  the  resurrection  of  the  dead.  And  what  was 
that  1  No  doubt  to  attain  a  state  (which  he  confesses  he 
had  not  yet  perfectlv  attained,  but  was  in  pursuit  of) 
suitable  to  his  relation  and  union  with  a  risen  Jesus  : 
union  with  him  supposes  a  being  risen  with  him  ;  If  ye 
then  be  risen  with  Christ.''  It  is  taken  as  a  granted  thing, 
that  they  that  are  his  are  risen  with  him.  And  what  slate 
and  temper  of  spirit  would  be  suitable  to  that  supposition, 
the  next  words  show:  "  Seek  those  things  that  are  above, 
where  Christ  siiteth  on  the  right  hand  of  God.  Set  your 
affection  (or  mind)  on  the  things  above,  not  on  the  things 
ca  the  earth."  Then  follows  the  method  in  which  they 
were  brought  to  the  capacity  of  doing  so ;  for  ye  are  dead. 

t  Ver.  10.  u  Ver.  11.  xCol.  i.  3. 


3G6 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


Part  I. 


Their  professed  relation  to  Christ  did  suppose  them  risen, 
and  did  therefore  first  suppose  them  dead.  Now,  if  they 
would  do  suitably  to  what  their  profession  imported,  this 
was  it  they  had  to  do  ;  to  abstract  their  minds  and  hearts 
from  the  things  of  this  earth,  and  place  them  upon  the 
things  of  a  higher  region.  And  (as  'tis  afterwards  ex- 
pressed in  this  same  context  which  we  were  considering 
before)  to  have  our  conversation,  or  citizenship,  in  heaven, 
whence  we  look  for  the  Saviour,  y  That  is,  as  our  chief 
mterests  and  privileges  are  above,  to  have  our  thoughts 
and  the  powers  of  our  souls  chiefly  exercised  upon  that 
blessed  and  glorious  state,  which  state  is  the  prize  (men- 
tioned above)  of  the  high  calling  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus.^ 
It  being  the  scope  and  import  of  his  call  unto  us,  and  the 
very  design  of  his  sufferings  on  the  cross,  to  draw  up  a 
people  from  earth  to  heaven;  whence  therefore,  they  that 
under  this  call  do  still  mind  earthly  things,  are  said  to  be 
enemies  to  the  cross  of  Christ  ;='  the  great  incongruity 
whereof  the  apostle  even  resents  with  tears  as  he  there 
testifies.  And  it  was  in  this  that  he  was,  for  his  part,  so 
willing  to  comply  with  the  design  of  the  cross,  that  he 
made  no  difficulty  to  endure  all  the  hardship  and  dolour 
of  it,  that  he  might  attain  this  glorious  fruit  and  gain 
which  he  reckoned  should  accrue  to  him  from  it ;  even 
more  of  a  raised  heavenly  mind,  which  signifies  it  to  be 
strongly  bent  that  way  already ;  when  no  mortifications 
were  reckoned  too  severe  to  be  undergone  in  order  thereto. 
And  here,  therefore,  this  soul-rectifying  influence  must  be 
understood  to  have  laeen  proportionably  strong. 

Hence,  also,  it  was,  that  we  find  him  groaning,  as  one 
under  a  pressure  or  heavy  weight,  to  be  clothed  upon  with 
the  heavenly  house:  and  to  have  mortality  swallowed  up 
of  life  ;b  because  God  had  wrought  him  to  this  self-same 
thing;  so  bent  and  determined  his  spirit  was  towards  the 
blessedness  of  the  future  state,  (which  seems  the  most  na- 
tural contexture  of  discourse  here,  though  some  others 
have  understood  it  otherwise,)  as  that,  though  he  could 
bear  patiently  the  delay,  he  could  not  but  desire  most  ear- 
nestly to  be  there.  And  we  see  how  the  temper  of  the 
primitive  Christians  was,  as  to  this,  and  the  other  world, 
in  those  days  when  the  Spirit  was  plentifully  poured  out. 
They  took  joyfully  the  spoilings  of  their  goods,  knowing  in 
themselves  they  had  in  heaven  a  far  better  and  an  endur- 
ing substance. <=  Heaven  signified  much  with  them,  and 
this  world  very  little.  They  look  not  to  the  things  that 
were  seen  and  temporal,  but  to  the  things  unseen  and 
eternal  ;<!  as  those  former  worthies  did,  whose  minds  and 
hearts,  being  set  right  by  that  faith  which  is  the  substance 
of  the  things  hoped  for,  and  the  evidence  of  things  not  seen.'' 
They  lived  as  pilgrims  and  strangers  on  earth,  despised 
the  pleasures,  riches,  and  honours  of  it ;  endured  all  man- 
ner of  hardships  and  tortures  in  it,  not  accepting  deliver- 
ance, because  they  were  taken  up  in  the  pursuit  of  the 
better  country  ;  had  respect  to  the  recompense  of  reward  ; 
and  expected  a  part  in  the  better  resurrection.  And  is  it 
not  a  delightful  thing  to  the  spirit  of  a  man,  when  he  is 
sensibly  disentangled,  and  at  liberty  from  the  cares,  desires, 
griefs,  and  fears  that  were  wont  to  enwrap  his  heart  1  when 
he  finds  his  weight  and  clogs  fallen  off"  that  depressed 
him,  the  bonds  and  snares  loosed  which  bound  him  down 
to  this  earth ;  and  feels  himself  ascending  and  moving 
upwards;  out  of  that  darkness,  stupidity,  and  death  that 
possessed  his  soul,  into  that  upper  region  of  light,  purity, 
and  peace,  unto  which  his  spirit  is  still  gradually  more 
and  more  connaturalized  day  by  day  1  when  heaven  in 
respect  of  the  pure  holiness,  the  calm  serenity,  the  rest 
and  blessedness  of  it,  is  now  grown  familiar  to  him,  and 
his  very  element  1 

We  see,  then,  that  in  all  these  mentioned  respects  this 
gracious  communication,  wherein  it  is  rectifying,  and 
tends  to  settle  the  soul  in  that  frame  which  it  ought  to  be 
in,  and  which  is  most  proper  and  natural  to  it ;  therein  it 
is  also  most  delightful,  and  carries  highest  matter  of  plea- 
sure in  it. 

It  is,  upon  the  whole,  (that  we  may  sum  up  the  account 
of  this  divine  communication  in  the  following  characters 
of  it,) 

1.  Generative,  and  begets  the  soul  to  a  new,  a  divine 


y  Ptiil.  iii.  20 
c  Heb  X.  34 


7  Ver.  14. 

d  2  Cor.  iv.  ult. 


a  Ver.  18.  19. 
e  Heb.  xi. 


h  2  Cor.  V.  4,  5. 
f  Mai.  iv.  2. 


life  ;  makes  it  of  a  sluggish,  stupid,  dead  thing,  (as  it  was 
towards  all  heavenly  and  divine  matters,)  living  and 
sprightly,  full  of  active  life  and  vigour.  Life  we  say  is  sv/eet, 
it  is  in  itself  a  pleasant  thing.  This  mean,  bodily  life  itself 
is  so  ;  if  we  do  but  consider  it,  and  allow  ourselves  to  taste 
and  enjoy  the  pleasure  of  it.  As  for  in.stance,  that  this 
and  that  limb  and  member  is  not  a  dead  lump,  that  we 
feel  life  freshly  sprouting  and  springing  in  every  part,  is 
not  this  delightsome "?  How  much  more  the  life  of  the 
soul  !  especially  this  so  excellent  and  sublime  kind  of  life  ! 
And  it  is  the  radical  principle  of  all  other  consequent 
pleasure,  that  by  which  we  are  capable  thereof:  every 
thing  is  sapless  and  without  savour  to  the  dead.  How 
pleasant  operation  and  fruitions  doth  the  divine  life  ren- 
der a  person  capable  of! 

2.  It  is  nutritive.  Souls  are  nourished  by  the  same 
thing  by  which  they  are  begotten,  by  the  same  divine  in- 
fluence. As  a  generative  virtue  is  wont  to  be  attributed 
to  the  Sun,  so  it  cherishes  also  its  own  productions.  The 
beams  of  that  Sun  of  righteousness  f  make  them  that  fear 
God  grow  up  as  calves  in  the  stall,  fill  them  with  marrow 
and  fatness,  cause  them  to  flourish  as  the  cedars  of  Leba- 
non. And  is  not  that  delightsome  to  be  increased  daily 
with  the  increases  of  God ']  fed  with  heavenly  hidden 
manna,  angels'  food ;  and  thereby  (though  we  need  not 
here  speak  distinctly  of  these)  to  receive  at  once  both 
nourishment  and  growth  1 

3.  It  is  sanative,  and  virtually  contains  all  the  fruits  in 
it  which  are  for  the  healing  of  the  nations  ;  when  the  soul 
grows  distempered,  it  restores  it,  and  is  both  sustaining 
and  remedying  to  it.  How  great  is  the  pleasure  of  health 
and  soundness !  of  ease  to  broken  bones  !  of  relief  to  a 
sick  and  fainting  heart !  so  it  is  often  (for  in  the  present 
state  the  cure  is  not  perfect,  and  relapses  are  frequent)  with 
the  soul  in  which  the  life  of  God  hath  begun  to  settle  and 
diffuse  itself,  till  his  influence  repair  and  renew  it ;  and 
when  it  doth  so,  how  pleasant  is  it  to  find  a  heart  made 
sound  in  his  statutes  !  and  to  perceive  a  new  working  in 
it,  the  Spirit  of  love,  power,  and  a  sound  mind  ]s  So  plea- 
sant that  it  occasions  a  triumph  (even  when  the  outward 
man  is  perishing)  if  it  be  found  the  inward  is  renewed 
day  by  day. 

4.  It  is  corroborative  and  strengthening ;  confirms  re- 
solutions, and  establishes  the  heart.  Hereby  they  who 
have  felt  this  quickening,  cherishing,  healing  virtue,  are 
also  strengthened  with  might  {viz.  by  the  Spirit)  in  the 
inner  man  ;  so  that  they  hold  on  their  way,  and  being  of 
clean  hands,  grow  stronger  and  stronger.h  They  go  from 
strength  to  strength;!  and  do  not  so  much  spend,  as  in- 
crease it  by  going  forward.  For  the  way  itself  of  the  Lord 
is  strength  to  the  upright. k  He  provides  that  fresh  recruits 
shall  still  spring  up  to  them  in  their  way-  For  all  their 
supplies  are  of  him,  and  are  acknowledged  to  be  so;  in- 
asmuch as  by  waiting  upon  the  Lord  they  renew  strength,! 
and  mount  up  with  wings  as  eagles,  run  without  weari- 
ness, and  walk  without  fainting.  And  this  increasing 
strength  cannot  be  without  a  proportionably  increasing 
delight.  How  pleasantly  doth  the  strong  man  rejoice  to 
run  his  race  !  and  enterprise  even  difficult  and  hazardous 
things  !  By  this  strength  doth  the  regenerate  man  perform 
the  ordinary  duties  belonging  to  his  holy  profession ;  by 
it  he  encounters  difficulties,  combats  and  conquers  ene- 
mies, bears  heavy  and  afflicting  pressures,  and  none  of 
these  without  some  intermingled  pleaiiure.  For  even  that 
exercise  of  this  strength  which  is  likely  to  be  least  accom- 
panied with  pleasure,  the  suffering  of  sharp  and  smarting 
afflictions,  hath  many  times  much  of  this  grateful  mixture ; 
and  can  only  be  expected  to  have  it  in  this  way  of  gracious 
communication,  as  the  depending  sufferers  shall  be 
strengthened  with  all  might  according  to  the  glorious 
power  of  God,  unto  all  patience  and  long  suffering  with 
joyfulness.'" 

God  is  therefore  to  be  enjoyed  and  delighted  in  by  this 
delectable  communication  intervening,  by  which  he  now 
frames  the  soul  according  to  his  own  image,  and  gives  a 
heart  after  his  own  heart,  that  is,  such  as  is  suitable  to 
him,  and  as  he  would  have  it  be.  And  this  way  only  is 
any  one  in  a  possibility  to  delight  in  God,  by  having  a 


2  Tim.  i.  17. 
Prov.  X. 


n  Job  x\'u.  9. 
I  lea.  xl. 


i  Psal.  Ixxxiv. 
m  Col.  i.  U. 


Paut  I. 


OF  DELIGHTING  IX  GOD. 


367 


good  frame  of  spirit  commiinicated  to  him,  andinwronglil 
in  him  :  I  mean  never  withont  this,  and  in  a  great  measure 
by  it.  Then  is  he  in  a  happj'  state,  when  God  hath  by  his 
own  Spirit  made  him  what  by  his  word  he  requires  him 
to  be.  Now  is  he  composed  to  delights  and  blessedness, 
being  by  the  same  workmanship  created  in  Christ  Jesus 
both  to  good  works  and  to  the  best  of  enjoyments.  How 
happy  is  that  soul  in  whom  the  true  matter  of  delight  is 
become  an  implanted  thing!  that  is  what  it  should  be,  and 
should  be  nothing  ('^uch  is  the  constitution  of  gospel-rules 
and  precepts)  but  what  most  truly  makes  for  iis  own  con- 
tent, delight,  and  rest !  whose  own  temper  is  now  in  some 
sort  become  to  it  b.ith  a  law  and  a  reward  !  Surely  this 
is  one  great  part  of  what  an  enlightened  apprehensive  soul 
would  most  earnestly  desire  and  crave,  or  would  be  the 
genuine  breathings  of  a  sincerely  gracious  heart.  "  O  that 
i  were  more  like  God  !  more  perfectly  framed  according 
to  his  holy  will."  And  must  therefore  be,  in  great  part,  a 
thing  apt  to  afford  it  delight  and  rest ;  as  hath  been  already 
inculcated  before. 

But  yet  this  natural  consequence  is  little  understood. 
And  the  common  ignorance  or  inadvertenc}'  of  this,  hath 
made  it  necessary  to  insist  the  more  largely  (though  but 
little  hath  been  said  in  respect  of  what  might)  on  this  part 
of  the  delectable  communication  wherein  God  offers  him- 
self to  his  people's  enjoyinent.  For  from  the  not  knowing, 
or  not  considering  of  this  way  of  enjoying  him,  this  two- 
fold mistake  (the  one  of  very  dangerous,  the  otlier  of  un- 
comfortable importance  and  tendency)  hath  arisen. 

1.  That  some  having  thought  they  have  enjoyed  God 
when  they  have  not ;  having  only  had  their  imaginations 
somewhat  gratified,  by  certain,  either  false  or  ineffectual, 
notions  of  him.  In  which  they  have  rested,  and  placed 
the  sum  of  their  religion  and  happiness.  Never  aiming, 
in  the  meantime,  to  have  their  spirits  reformed  according 
to  that  pure  and  holy  image  and  exemplar  which  he  hath 
represented  in  the  Gospel  of  his  Son  ;  the  impression 
whereof,  is  Christ  formed  in  us. 

2.  That  others  have  thought  the}'  have  not  enjoyed  God 
when  they  have;  supposing  there  was  no  enjoyment  of 
him,  but  what  consisted  in  the  rapturous  transporting  ap- 
prehension and  persuasion  of  his  particular  love  to  them; 
and  slightly  overlooking  all  that  work  he  hath  wrought  in 
their  souls,  as  if  it  were  nothing  to  be  accounted  of',  not 
allowing  themselves  to  reflect  on  anv  thing  in  themselves, 
but  what  was  still  amiss  ;  and  vainly  seeking  with  much 
anxiety  and  complaint  what  they  have,  while  they  will  not 
take  notice  that  they  have  it,  nor  apply  themselves  to  im- 
prove the  already  implanted  principles  that  are,  in  them- 
selves, apt  to  yield  fruits  of  so  pleasant  relish.  It  was 
upon  this  account  requisite  to  discover  and  labour  some- 
what to  magnify  the  intrinsical  delightfulness  of  religion 
itself;  and  to  put  the  more  of  note  and  remark  upon  a  well 
tempered  spirit,  even  in  point  of  delectableness  and  the 
matter  of  pleasure  it  hath  in  it,  by  how  much  it  is  with  too 
many,  on  one  account  or  another,  a  neglected  thin?. 

There  is  only  somewhat  of  doubt  or  objection  that  may 
possibly  lie  in  the  minds  of  some,  asfainst  the  scope  and 
drift  of  this  discourse;  which  it  will  be  needful  we  en- 
deavour to  remove  before  we  proceed  to  what  is  further 
contained  in  this  gracious  communication  :  As, 

1.  It  maybe  said,  "Doth  not  nil  fhis  tend  to  brine  u«, 
ins  end  o'"  delighting  in  God,  to  delight  in  ourselves'?  to 
make  us  become  our  own  centre  and  rest  1  And  how  can 
the  relishable  sweetness  of  gracious  principles  and  dispo- 
si'ions  siarnify  God's  bein?  to  be  enjoved  or  delisrli'ed  in  ■? 
For  what,  are  rhe«e  thinifs  God  V     To  this  I  onlv  "-av, 

1.  That  such  ho1v  dispositions,  as  thev  are  not  God,  so 
nor  are  they,  in  strictness  of  speech,  ourselves.  And  how 
absurd  were  it,  to  call  everv  thin?  ourselves  that  is  in  us! 
And  how  self-contradictin?  then  were  the  very  objection  ! 
for  that  would  make  delighting  in  God  and  in  ourselves 
directly  all  one  ;  and  so  the  fault  which  it  causelessly  pre- 
tends to  find,  it  would  really  commit.  'Tis  true,  that  im- 
properly holy  dispositions  are  said  to  rnake  up  another  self 
in  us,  a  new  man,  according  as  corrript  and  sinful  prin- 
ciples and  dispo-;itions  do  make  also  a  self,  the  old  man. 
But  then  it  is  also  to  be  remeinbered,  that  with  no  greater 
impropriety  they  are  capable  of  bearing  the  name  of  God ; 

n  John  lii.  6. 


as  the  image  of  any  thing  frequently  doth  the  name  of  the 
thing  which  it  represents,  or  the  work  of  its  author ;  and 
they  are  expressly  called,  Christ  formed  in  us;  and  is  not 
he  God  1  They  are  called  the  Spirit ;  for  when  we  are 
cautioned  not  to  quench  the  Spirit,  how  can  that  be  under- 
stood of  the  eternal  uncreated  Spirit  himself?  And  the 
very  thing  produced  (not  merely  the  productive  inlluence) 
in  the  work  of  regeneration,  is  expressly  called  by  that 
name;  (as  it  is  no  such  strange  thing  for  the  effect  to  carry 
the  name  of  its  cause;)  that  which  is  boru  of  the  Spirit  is 
Spirit."  There  is  Spirit  begetting,  and  spirit  begotten. 
And  the  spirit  begotten,  as  it  must  be  distinguished  from 
its  cause,  the  Spirit  of  God  ;  so  it  must  from  the  subject 
wherein  the  effect  is  wrought,  our  own  spirits;  for  they 
sure  are  not  produced  by  the  regenerating  work.  Yea,  and 
when  God  is  said  to  dwell  in  them  that  dwell  in  love,  and 
that  are  humble  and  contrite;  somewhat  else  is  thereby 
signified  to  be  indwelling  there,  than  the  mere  being  of 
God  ;  for  otherwise  the  privilege  of  such  were  no  greater 
than  of  all  other  men  and  things.  And  what  else  is  it,  but 
somewhat  communicated  and  imparted  immediately  from 
God  to  such  1  (else  how  by  dwelling  in  love,  do  they 
dwell  in  God  1)  which  because  dwelling  imports  perma- 
nency, cannot  be  a  transient  influence  only,  but  some 
settled  abiding  effect,  a  consistent  frame  and  temper  of 
spirit,  maintained  by  his  continually  renewed  influence; 
and  therefore  it  would  be  very  unreasonably  said,  that  the 
representing  this  as  delectable  is  a  calling  us  off  from  God 
to  delight  in  ourselves.  For  if  this  communication  be  not 
itself,  in  strict  propriety,  God,  it  were  as  great  impropriety 
to  say  it  were  ourselves.     Again, 

2.  It  hath  a  great  deal  more  affinity  with  God  than  with 
us.  Wc  are,  'ti.s  true,  the  subjects  of  it;  but  it  is  his  itn- 
mediate  production  and  very  likeness,  a  divine  nature,  no 
hitman  thing.  Therefore  if  here  our  delight  were  to  ter- 
minate, it  were  more  proper  to  call  it  delighting  in  God, 
than  in  ourselves.     But, 

3.  It  is  neither  said  nor  meant,  that  here  our  delight  is 
to  terminate ;  but  that  hereby  we  are  to  delight  in  God, 
and  so  that  our  delight  is  to  terminate  in  him. 

4.  When  we  are  said  to  enjoy  God,  I  inquire,  is  any 
thing  communicated  to  us,  or  no?  If  not,  we  have  no  en- 
jovment.  If  any  thing  be,  -what  is  itl  God's  essence?  that's 
inipossible  and  horrid  to  think,  as  hath  been  said.  And 
we  need  not  repeat,  that  when  we  can  tell  what  it  is  to  en- 
joy a  friend,  without  partaking  his  essence,  whose  commu- 
nications are  so  incomparably  more  remote,  mediate,  re- 
sistible ;  it  is  less  difficult  to  conceive,  how  God  is  to  be 
enjoved  by  his  communications. 

2.  It  mav  be  again  sail:  '"But  if  God  be  thus  to  be 
delighted  in,  how  can  delighting  in  him  be  upon  such 
terms  our  duty  ?  for  is  it  our  duty  that  he  communicate 
himself  in  this  way  to  us  ?"  Let  any  that  object  thus,  only 
studv  the  meaning  of  those  precepts;  Keep  yourselves  in 
the  love  of  God.  Continue  in  his  goodness.  Be  ye  filled 
with  the  Spirit.  Walk  in  the  Spirit.  And  if  they  can 
think  them  to  sienify  any  thing,  they  will  not  be  to  seek 
for  an  answer.  But  to  this  more  hereafter ;  when  from 
the  delightful  object,  wecome  to  treat  of  actual  delighting 
in  it. 

3.  But  some  may  sav,  "  It  were  indeed  to  be  acknow- 
ledsred,  that  such  a  temper  of  spirit  once  couimtniicated, 
were  indeed  verv  delightful ;  but  where  is  it  to  be  fourd  ] 
And  to  state  the  matter  of  delight  so  much  in  what  is  to  be 
sou?ht  in  ourselves,  is  to  reduce  the  whole  bu'^ine*';  of  de- 
behrin?  in  God,  to  an  impossibility,  or  to  nothing;  so 
little  appearing  of  this  temper,  and  so  much  of  the  con- 
trarv,  as  eives  much  cause  of  doubt,  whether  there  be  any 
thing  to  be  rejoiced  in  or  no.  And  what  then  ?  are  we  to 
suspend  the  exercise  of  this  duty  till  we  have  gotten  the 
difficult  case  resolved  ?  (which  luay  be  all  our  time.)  Is 
there  a  real  thorough  work  of  God  upon  my  soul  or  no  1 
For  how  can  I  rejoice  in  that  whereof  I  have  yet  a  doubt, 
whether  it  be  what  it  seems  or  no  ?"     I  answer,^ 

1.  It  is  plain,  they  that  really  have  nothing  of  this  com- 
munication from  God.  cannot  take  delight  in  it  (otherwise 
than  as  hoped  for.)     But, 

2.  Would  we  therefore  have  such  to  please  themselves 
and  be  satisfied  without  it;  and  delight  in  their  distance 


368 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


Part  I 


and  estrangement  from  God;  and  while  there  is  not  inter- 
course between  him  and  themi  And  shall  this  be  called 
too  delighting  in  God"?  Surely  somewhat  else  than  de- 
light belongs  to  their  states. 

3.  But  for  such  as  really  have  it,  that  which  hath  been 
designed  to  be  evinced,  is,  that  it  is  delectable  in  itself; 
and  therefore  they  cannot  be  without  any  taste  or  relish  of 
pleasure  therein  ;  Avhile  yet  some  doubt  touching  the  sin- 
cerity and  truth  thereof  doth  yet  remain ;  though  such 
doubt  (but  more  their  imperfect  reception  of  this  commu- 
nication, and  neglect  to  look  after  further  degrees  of  it) 
cannot  but  render  their  delight  comparatively  little.  Nor 
hath  it  been  designed  to  speak  hitherto  of  what  delight  the 
regenerate  in  this  way  actually  have,  but  what  they  may 
have  ;  and  what  matter  of  delight  God's  heart-rectifying 
communication  dolh  in  the  nature  of  it  contain;  that  is, 
supposing  it  were  imparted  and  received,  so  as  actually  to 
have  formed  the  soul  according  to  the  gospel-revelation. 
And  if  it  were  so  in  a  more  eminent  measure  and  degree, 
it  were  then  in  itself  so  delectable,  as  without  the  assurance 
of  our  future  safe  and  happy  state,  (though  that,  in  ihat 
case,  is  not  likely  to  be  in  a  comfortable  degree  wanting,) 
that  is,  not  by  it  only,  but  by  itself,  without  the  present  con- 
stant necessary  concurrence  thereof,  to  afford  unspeakable 
pleasure  to  that  soul  in  which  it  hath  place.  So  that  the 
getting  of  assurance  is  not  the  only  thing  to  be  done  in 
order  to  a  person's  delighting  in  God;  of  which  more 
hereafter  is  intended  to  be  said  in  the  directive  part. 

But  though  that  be  not  the  only  thing,  yet  it  is  a  very 
great  thing  ;  and  being  superadded,  makes  a  great  addi- 
tion to  the  matter  of  delight :  therefore  we  further  say, 

III.  This  Divine  communication  is  delectable  as  it  in- 
cludes in  it  the  manifestation  of  God's  love  to  the  soul  in 
particular. 

Nor  do  we  hereby  intend  an  enthusiastic  assurance  ;  or 
such  a  testification  "of  the  love  of  God  to  the  soul,  as  ex- 
cludes any  reference  to  his  external  revelation  and  exer- 
cise of  our  own  enlightened  reason  and  judgment  there- 
upon ;  or  wherein  these  are  of  no  use,  nor  have  subservience 
thereto.  But  as  in  the  other  parts  of  the  Divine  commu- 
nication, his  external  revelation  hath  the  place  of  an  in- 
strument whereby  he  effects  the  work  inwardly  done  upon 
the  mind  and  heart,  and  of  a  rule  or  measure  whereby  we 
are  to  judge  of  it;  so  we  are  to  account  it  is,  as  to  this  part 
of  it  also ;  that  is,  he  inwardly  testifies  and  manifests  the 
same  thing  which  is  virtually  contained  in  his  gospel-reve- 
lation, considered  in  that  reference  and  aspect  which  it 
hath  on  the  present  state  of  the  soul.  For  that  outward 
revelation  must  needs  be  understood  to  signify  diversely  to 
particular  persons,  as  their  state  may  be  diverse;  as  when 
it  says.  The  things  that  eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard, 
nor  have  entered  into  the  heart  of  man,  God  hath  prepared 
for  them  that  love  him ;»  to  a  person  that  doth  indeed 
truly  love  God,  it  virtually  says,  "  All  these  things  are  pre- 
pared for  thee."  To  one  that  doth  not  love  God,  it  can 
only  be  understood  to  say,  "  All  these  things  may  be  thine, 
i.  e.  if  thou  shalt  love  him;  if  thou  do  not,  thou  hast  no 
part  in  them."  But  inasmuch  as  a  conditional  promise 
when  the  condition  is  performed,  is  equivalent  to  an  abso- 
lute ;  these  words  do  as  truly  import  this  sense  to  one  that 
loves  God,  These  things  are  thine,  as  if  they  were  directed 
to  it  in  particular :  as  truly,  I  say,  supposing  the  person 
do  truly  love  God,  but  not  so  clearly,  or  with  that  evidence. 
For  this  truth,  (supposing  it  a  truth,)  I  do  sincerely  love 
God,  is  not  so  evident  as  this,  that  such  preparation  is 
made  for  them  that  do ;  for  this  is  expressly  contained  in 
the  word  of  God  :  the  other  is  not  so,  biu  to  be  collected 
only  by  self-inspection  and  observation  of  the  bent  and 
tenor  of  my  spirit  and  way  God-ward  :  yet  however  the 
evidence  of  truth  admits  of  degrees,  truth  itself  does  not. 
All  things  that  are  true,  are  equally  true.  And  therefore, 
when  it  is  said,  so  great  things  are  prepared  for  them  that 
love  God,  it  is  as  truly  said  they  are  prepared  for  this  man 
who  loves  God,  as  this  or  thai  particular  lover  of  God  is 
contained  in  the  general  notion  of  a  lover  of  him.  And 
then,  as  that  public  declaration  says  not  to  any.  These 
things  are  prepared  for  you,  whether  you  love  God  or  no, 
or  otherwise  than  as  they  come  under  that  common  notion 
of  lovers  of  God;    this  inward  manifestation  is  also  so 


accommodate  to  that,  as  that  it  say^  not  another  thing  but 
the  same  ;  that  is,  nothing  that  contradicts  (and  indeed  no 
more  than  is  virtually  contained  in)  the  other  ;  or  it  ap- 
plies what  is  generally  said  of  the  lovers  of  God  to  this 
particular  lover  of  him  as  such;  that  is,  enabling  him  to 
discern  himself  a  lover  of  him,  impresses  this  truth  power- 
fully upon  the  heart,  these  great  preparations  belong  to 
thee  as  thou  art  such  a  one. 

We  speak  not  here  of  what  God  can  do,  but  what  he 
doth.  Who  can  doubt  but  as  God  can,  if  he  please,  im- 
print on  the  mind  the  whole  system  of  necessary  truth, 
and  on  the  heart  the  entire  frame  of  holiness,  without  the 
help  of  an  external  revelation ;  so  he  can  imprint  this  par- 
ticular persuasion  also  without  any  outward  means !  Nor 
do  we  speak  of  what  he  more  rarely  doth,  but  of  what  he 
doth  ordinarily  ;  or  what  his  more  usual  course  and  way 
of  procedure  is,  in  dealing  with  the  spirits  of  men.  The 
supreme  power  binds  not  its  own  hands.  We  may  be 
sure  the  inward  testimony  of  the  Spirit  never  is  opposite 
to  the  outward  testimony  of  his  Gospel ;  (which  is  the 
Spirit's  testimony  also ;)  and  therefore  it  never  says  to  an 
unholy  man,  an  enemy  to  God,  Thou  art  in  a  reconciled 
and  pardoned  state.  But  we  cannot  be  sure  he  never  speaks 
or  suggests  things  to  the  spirits  of  men  but  by  the  external 
testimony,  so  as  to  make  use  of  that  a.s  the  means  of  in- 
forming them  with  what  he  hath  to  impart ;  nay,  we  know 
he  sometimes  hath  imparted  things  (as  to  prophets  and  the 
sacred  penmen)  without  any  external  means,  and  (no  doubt) 
excited  suitable  affections  in  them  to  the  import  of  the 
things  imparted  and  made  known.  Nor  do  I  believe  it  can 
ever  be  proved,  that  he  never  doth  immediately  testify  his 
own  special  love  to  holy  souls,  without  the  intervention  of 
some  part  of  his  external  word,  made  use  of  as  a  present 
instrument  to  that  purpose,  or  that  he  always  doth  it  in  the 
way  of  methodical  reasoning  therefrom. 

Nor  do  I  think  that  the  experience  of  Christians  can 
signify  much  to  the  deciding  of  the  matter.  For  besides 
that  this,  or  that,  or  a  third  person's  experience  cannot  con- 
clude any  thing  against  a  fourth's ;  and  the  way  of  arguing 
were  very  infirm,  what  one,  or  two,  or  a  thousand, or  even 
the  greater  part  of  serious  Christians,  (even  such  as  have 
attained  to  some  satisfying  evidence  of  their  own  good  es- 
tate,) have  not  found,  that  no  where  is  to  be  found  ;  besides 
that,  I  say,  it's  likely  few  can  distinctly  tell  how  it  hath 
been  with  them  in  this  matter ;  that  is,  what  way  or  method 
hath  been  taken  with  them  in  begetting  a  present  persua- 
sion at  this  or  that  time  of  God's  peculiar  love  to  them. 
His  dealings  with  persons  (even  the  same  persons  at  di- 
vers times)  may  be  so  various;  his  illapses  and  coming  in 
upon  them  at  some  times  may  have  been  so  sudden  and 
surprising;  the  motions  of  thought  are  so  quick;  the  ob- 
servation or  animadversion  persons  usually  have  of  what  is 
transacted  in  their  own  spirits  is  so  indistinct ;  and  they 
may  be  so  much  taken  up  with  the  thing  itself,  as  less  to 
mind  the  way  and  order  of  doing  it;  that  we  may  suppose 
little  is  to  he  gathered  thence  towards  the  settling  of  a  stated 
rule  in  this  case.  Nor  is  the  matter  of  such  moment,  that 
we  need  either  be  curious  in  inquiring  or  positive  in  deter- 
mining about  it ;  that  principle  being  once  supposed  and 
firmly  stuck  to, — that  he  never  says  any  thing  in  this 
matter  by  his  Spirit  to  the  hearts  of  men,  repugnant  to 
what  the  same  Spirit  hath  sadd  in  his  word;  or,  that  he 
doth  not  say  a  new  or  a  diverse  thing  from  what  he  hath 
said  there  for  their  a.ssurance:  i.  e.  that  he  never  testifies 
to  any  person  by  his  Spirit  that  he  is  accepted  and  beloved 
of  him,  who  may  at  the  same  time  be  concluded  by  his 
publicly-extant  constitutions  in  his  word  to  be  in  a  state  of 
non-acceptance  and  disfavour;  or  concerning  whom  the 
same  thing  (viz.  his  acceptanee)  might  not  be  concluded 
by  his  word,  if  it  were  duly  applied  to  his  case.  Hereby 
the  most  mmnentous  danger  in  this  matter  is  avoided;  for 
if  that  principle  be  forelaid,  enough  is  done  to  preclude  the 
vain  boasts  of  such  as  may  be  apt  to  pretend  highly  to 
great  manifestations  of  Divine  love,  while  they  carry  with 
them  manifest  proofs  of  an  unsanctified  heart,  and  are 
under  the  power  of  unmortified,  reigning  sin.  That  prin- 
ciple admitted,  will  convince  that  their  boasted  manifesta- 
tions do  only  manifest  their  own  ignorance,  pride,  and 
vanity ;  or  proceed  only  from  their  heated  imagination,  oi 


Part  I. 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


369 


(the  worse  cause)  Satanical  illusion,  designed  to  lull  them 
asleep  in  sin,  and  the  more  easily  to  lead  thein  blindfold 
to  perdition.  And  this  is  the  main  concernment  about 
which  we  need  to  be  solicitous  in  this  matter;  which  being 
provided  for;  as  it  is  diflicult,  so  it  is  not  necessary,  to  de- 
termine, whether  the  Spirit  do  always  not  only  testify  ac- 
cording to  the  external  revelation,  but  by  it  also;  and  so 
only  as  to  concur  in  the  usual  way  of  reasoning  from  it. 

No  doubt  but  the  .same  truth  may  be  assented  to  upon 
divers  grounds;  sometimes  upon  rational  evidence;  some- 
times upon  testimony ;  and  some  truths  may  be  seen  by 
immediate,  mental  intuition,  (as  being  self-evident,)  which 
also  may  be  capable  of  demonstration.  And  though  this 
truth  of  God's  particular  love  to  such  a  man,  be  none  of 
those  that  have  self-evidence  ;  yet  God's  Spirit,  as  it  may 
by  assisting  the  discursive  faculty,  help  us  to  discern  the 
connexions  of  some  things  which  otherwise  we  should  not 
perceive ;  so  it  may  by  assisting  the  intuitive,  make  things 
evident  to  us  that  of  themselves  are  not.  Nor  yet,  also, 
that  it  actually  doth  so,  can  any  I  believe  certainly  tell; 
for  admit  that  at  some  times  some  have  very  transporting 
apprehensions  of  the  love  of  God  towards  them.selves,  sug- 
gested to  their  hearts  by  the  Holy  Spirit ;  they  having  thi'S 
habitual  knowledge  before  that  love  to  him,  (for  instance.) 
or  faith  in  him,  or  the  like,  are  descriptive  characters  of 
the  persons  whom  he  accepts  and  delightfully  loves ;  how 
suddenly  may  the  Divine  light  irradiate  or  shine  upon 
those  pre-conceived  notions,  (which  were  begotten  in  them 
by  the  interveniency  of  the  external  revelation  before,)  and 
excite  those  before  implanted  principles  of  faith,  love,  &c. 
so  as  to  give  them  the  lively  sense  of  them  now  stirring 
and  acting  in  Iheir  hearts !  and  thence  also  enable  them 
unwaveringly  to  conclude  (and  with  an  unexpressible  joy 
and  pleasure)  their  own  interest  in  his  special  love,  in  this 
way  shedding  it  abroad  in  their  hearts  by  the  Holy  Ghost 
given  to  them!  p  This  may  be  so  suddenly  done,  that  they 
may  apprehend  the  testimony  to  be  immediate  when  in- 
deed it  is  not.  Nor  are  they  able  to  prove  from  Scripture 
the  immediateness  of  it ;  for  as  to  what  it  doth  to  them  in 
particular.  Scripture  says  nothing,  they  not  being  so  much 
as  mentioned  there :  what  it  doth  or  hath  done  to  this  or 
that  person  there  mentioned  signifies  nothing  to  their  case ; 
if  any  thing  were  said  that  must  have  that  import,  (which 
will  be  hard  to  evince,)  and  that  is  anywhere  in  Scripture 
signified  to  be  its  usual  way,  in  common,  towards  them 
on  whose  hearts  it  impresses  this  persuasion,  to  do  it  im- 
mediately, is  much  less  to  be  evinced.  For  what  Scrip- 
ture saith  so  1  and  that  famous  text  that  speaks  so  directly 
to  this  matter,  The  Spirit  of  God  beareth  witness  with  our 
spirit,  that  we  are  the  children  of  God,  seemeth  rather  to 
imply  the  contrary ;  inasmuch  as  the  Spirit  of  God  is 
there  expressly  said  to  co-witness  with  our  spirit,  (as  the 
word  there  used  signifies,)  by  which  it  should  seem  to  take 
the  same  course  in  testifying  which  our  spirit  or  conscience 
doth,  that  is,  of  considering  the  general  characters  of  his 
children  laid  down  in  his  word,  reflecting  upon  the  same 
in  ourselves,  and  thereupon  concluding  we  are  his  chil- 
dren ;  which  if  it  were  supposed  the  only  thing  the  Spirit 
of  God  ordinarily  doth  in  this  matter,  we  may  with  much 
confidence  assert, 

1.  That  it  doth  herein  no  small  thing;  for  is  it  a  small 
thing  to  be  ascertained  of  God's  fatherly  love  to  us  as  his 
own  children  1 

2.  That  it  doth  not  a  less  thing  than  if  it  testified  the 
same  matter  in  a  way  altogether  immediate.  For  wherein 
is  it  less?  Is  the  matter  less  imp<irtant  1  That  cannot  be 
said;  for  the  thing  we  are  assured  of  is  the  .same  howsoever 
we  be  certified  thereof  Is  it  less  evident  1  That  can  with 
as  little  pretence  be  said ;  for  doth  any  one  account  a  thing 
not  evident  in  itself,  and  that  needs  to  be  proved  to  him 
some  way  or  other,  the  less  evident  for  being  proved  to 
him  m  a  discursive  way  1  What  pretence  can  any  one  have 
to  say  or  think  sol  Is  it  that  reasoning  is  more  liable  to 
error  and  mistake  1  But  I  hope  the  reasoning  of  God's 
Spirit  IS  not  so,  when  it  enables  us  to  apprehend  the  gene- 
ral truth  we  should  reason  from ;  to  assume  to  it ;  to  col- 
lect and  conclude  from  it,  guiding  us  by  its  own  light.  In 
each  of  these  surely  we  have  as  much  reason  to  rely  upon 
the  certainty  and  infallibility  of  the  Spirit's  reasonings,  asof 

p  Rom.  V.  5. 


its  most  assertory  dictates ;  otherwise,  we  would  (most 
unreasonably)  think  the  authority  of  those  conclusions 
laid  down  in  the  epistle  to  the  Romans,  and  other  parts  oi 
Scripture,  invalidated  by  the  Holy  Ghost's  vouchsafing  to 
reason  them  out  to  us,  as  we  know  it  most  nervously  and 
strongly  doth.  Or,  is  it  less  consolatory  1  That  cannot  be, 
for  that  depends  on  the  two  former,  the  importance  and 
evidence  of  the  thing  declared :  the  former  whereof  is  the 
same;  the  latter  not  less. 

3.  Yea,  and  supposing  that  the  Holy  Ghost  do  mani- 
festly concur  with  our  spirits  in  the  several  steps  of  that 
discursive  way,  so  that  we  can  observe  it  to  do  so,  (and 
there  is  little  doubt  but  it  may  do  so  as  observably  to  us, 
by  affording  a  more  than  ordinary  light  to  a,ssist  and  guide 
us  in  each  part  of  that  procedure,  as  if  it  did  only  suggest 
a  sudden  dictate  to  us  and  no  more,)  we  may  upon  that 
supposition  add,  that  it  doth  hereby  more  advantageously 
propose  the  same  thing  to  us,  than  if  it  only  did  it  the 
other  way.  It  doth  it  in  a  way  more  suitable  to  our  na- 
tures, which  is  not  nothing;  and  it  doth  it  in  a  way  less 
liable  to  after-suspicion  and  doubt;  for  it  is  not  supposed 
to  be  always  dictatinglhe  same  thing.  And  when  it  ceases 
to  do  so,  howsoever  consolatory  and  satisfying  the  dictate 
was  at  that  instant  when  it  was  given,  the  matter  is  liable 
to  question  afterwards.  Upon  what  grounds  was  such  a 
thing  said  1  And  though  it  cannot  be  distrusted,  that  what 
the  Holy  Spirit  testifieih  is  true  ;  yet  I  may  doubt  whe- 
ther it  was  indeed  the  Holy  Spirit  that  testified  it  or  no. 
Whereas  if  it  proceeded  with  me  upon  grounds,  they  re- 
main ;  and  I  have  no  reason  to  suspect  that  which  was  ar- 
gued out  to  me,  upon  grounds  which  I  still  find  in  me, 
was  either  from  an  ill  suggester,  or  with  an  ill  design  ; 
whereas  there  may  be  some  plausible  pretence  of  doubt 
in  the  matter,  if  there  was  only  a  transient  dictate  given  in 
to  me,  without  any  reference  or  appeal  to  that  rule  by 
which  God  hath  not  only  directed  me  to  try  myself,  but  also 
to  try  spirits  whether  they  be  of  him  or  no.  Nor  is  there 
any  imaginable  necessity  of  assigning  quite  another  method 
to  the  Spirit's  work  as  it  is  a  Spirit  of  adoption,  from  that 
which  it  holds  as  it  is  a  spirit  of  bondage ;  for,  as  to  this 
latter,,  when  it  convinces  a  person  and  binds  down  the  con- 
demning sentence  upon  him,  this  surely  is  the  course  it 
follows,  to  let  a  person  see,  (for  instance,)  they  that  live 
after  the  flesh  shall  die  ;  but  thou  livest  after  the  flesh, 
therefore  thou  shalt  die  ;  or,  all  that  believe  not,  the  wrath 
of  God  abides  on  them;  but  thou  believest  not,  (as  it  is 
we  know  the  Spirit's  work  to  convince  of  not  believing,) 
therefore  the  wrath  of  God  abides  on  thee.  And  what  need 
is  there  of  apprehending  its  method  to  be  quite  another  in 
its  comforting  work  1  Nor  is  it  surely  a  mater  of  less 
difficulty  to  persuade  some  that  they  are  unbelievers,  and 
make  them  apprehend  and  feel  the  terror  suitable  lo  their 
states;  than  others,  that  they  are  believers,  and  make 
them  apprehend  the  comfort  which  is  proper  to  theirs. 
Yea,  and  is  not  its  course  the  same  in  its  whole  sanctify- 
ing work,  to  bring  home  the  particular  truth,  whose  im- 
pression it  would  leave  on  the  soul,  with  application  thereof 
to  it  in  particular?  which  (as  generally  propounded  in 
Scripture)  men  are  so  apt  to  waive  and  neglect ;  for  what 
is  every  one's  concern,  is  commonly  thought  no  one's  :  and 
what  need  that  its  method  here  should  be  wholly  diverse  ? 
But  in  whichsoever  of  these  ways  the  Spirit  of  God  doth 
manifest  his  love,  it  is  not  to  be  doubted,  but  that, 

There  is  such  a  thing  in  itself  ver}'  necessary,  and  to  be 
attained  and  sought  after, — and  that  it  is  highly  delectable 
when  he  doth  vouchsafe  it. 

That  there  is  such  a  thing  to  be  sought  after  as  a  com- 
municable privilege  and  favour  to  holy  souls,  is  evident 
enough  from  multitudes  of  scriptures.  Those  that  have 
been  occasionally  mentioned  in  .-^peaking  (what  was  thought 
fit  to  be  said)  of  the  way  of  his  doing  it,  need  not  be  re- 
peated ;  unto  which  we  may  add,  what  we  find  is  added 
to  those  above-recited  words.  Eye  hath  not  seen.  &c.  the 
things  which  God  hath  prepared  for  them  that  love  him, 
ri:.  but  God  hath  revealed  them  to  us  bv  his  Spirit. "i 
And  that  Spirit  not  only  gives  those  lovers  of  God  above 
mentioned  a  clearer  view  of  the  things  prepared  for  them, 
so  as  that  the  nature  of  them  might  be  the  moredi,siinctly 
understood,  (as  is  argued  in  the  latter  part  uf  this,  and  in 

q  I  Cor.  ii.  9,  19. 


370 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


Part  I, 


the  following  verse;)  but  also  of  their  own  propriety  and 
interest  in  them ;  Now  we  have  received  not  the  spirit  of 
the  world,  but  the  Spirit  that  is  from  God,  that  we  may 
know  the  things  that  are  freely  given  us  of  God.>'  Whence 
therefore  they  are  revealed  by  the  Spirit,  not  as  pleasing 
objects  in  themselves  only,  but  as  gifts,  the  evidences  and 
issues  of  Divine  love  ;  their  owti  proper  portion,  by  the 
bequest  of  that  love  to  whom  they  are  shown.  Nor  is  this 
the  work  of  the  Spirit  only,  as  inditing  the  Scriptures,  but 
it  is  such  a  work  as  helps  to  the  spiritual  discerning  of 
these  things;  such  as  wherelo  the  natural  man  is  not  com- 
petent, who  yet  is  capable  of  reading  the  Scriptures  as  well 
as  other  men.  And  what  will  we  make  of  those  words  of 
our  Saviour,  when  having  told  his  disciples,  he  would 
pray  the  Father,  and  he  should  give  them  another  Com- 
forter, even  the  Spirit  of  truth,  that  he  might  abide  with 
them  for  ever ;  even  the  Spirit  of  truth, «  &c.,  he  adds,  I 
will  not  leave  you  comfortless,  I  will  come  to  you ;«  that 
is,  (as  is  plain,)  by  that  Spirit.  And  then  shortly  after  sub- 
joins. He  that  hath  my  commandments  and  keepeth  them, 
he  it  is  that  loveth  me ;  and  he  that  loveth  me  shall  be 
loved  of  my  Father,  and  I  will  love  him,  and  will  manifest 
myself  to  him."  Here  is  an  express  promise  of  this  love- 
manifestation,  whereof  we  speak,  by  the  Spirit ;  (the  Com- 
forter mentioned  above;)  not  to  those  particular  persons 
only  imto  whom  he  was  then  directing  his  speech,  or  to 
those  only  of  that  time  and  age,  but  to  them  indefinitely 
that  should  love  Christ,  and  keep  his  commandments. 
Which  is  again  repeated  in  other  words  of  the  same  im- 
port ;  after  Judas's  (not  Iscariot)  wondering  expostulation 
touching  that,  peculiarly  of  this  loving  manifestation ; 
Jesus  answered  and  said  unto  him,  If  any  man  love  me, 
he  will  keep  my  words;  and  my  Father  will  love  him, 
and  we  will  come  unto  him,  and  make  our  abode  with  him.^ 
So  that  such  a  manifestation  as  is  most  aptly  expressive  of 
love,  such  converse  and  cohabitation  as  imports  most  of 
kindness  and  endearedness,  they  have  encouragement  to 
expect  that  do  love  Christ  and  keep  his  words  ;  the  same 
thing  no  doubt  with  that  shedding  abroad  of  the  love  of 
God  in  their  hearts  by  the  Holy  Ghost  given  to  them, 
mentioned  before.  And  whereas  we  have  so  plain  and  re- 
peated mention  of  the  seal,  the  earnest,  the  first-fruits  of 
the  Spirit,  what  can  these  expressions  be  understood  to 
import,  (and  they  do  not  signify  nothing,)  other  than  con- 
firmation of  the  love  of  God,  or  assuring  and  satisfying 
evidences  and  pledges  thereof. 

And  that  there  should  be  such  an  inward  manifestation 
of  Divine  love  superadded  to  the  public  and  external  de- 
claration of  it,  (which  is  only  made  indefinitely  to  persons 
so  and  so  characterized,)  the  exigency  of  the  case  did  re- 
quire ;  that  is,  wherein  it  was  necessary  his  love  should 
be  distinctly  understood  and  apprehended,  it  was  so  far 
necessary  this  course  should  be  taken  to  make  it  be  so. 
A  mere  external  revelation  was  not  sufficient  to  that  end; 
our  own  unassisted  reasonings  therefrom  were  not  suffi- 
cient. As  other  truths  have  not  their  due  and  proper  im- 
pression, merely  by  our  rational  reception,  be  they  never  so 
plain,  without  that  holy,  sanctifying  influence  before  in- 
sisted on  ;  so  this  truth  also  of  God's  love  to  this  person 
in  particular,  hath  not  its  force  and  weight,  its  efficacy  and 
fruit,  answerable  to  the  design  of  its  discovery,  unless  it 
be  applied  and  urged  home  on  the  soul  by  a  communi- 
cated influence  of  the  Spirit  to  this  purpose  :  many  times 
not  so  far  as  to  overcome  and  silence  tormenting  doubts, 
fears,  and  anguish  of  spirit  in  reference  hereto,  and  where 
that  is  done,  not  sufficient  to  work  off  deadness,  drow^si- 
ness,  indisposition  to  the  doing  of  God  cheerful  service, 
not  sufficient  to  excite  and  stir  up,  love,  gratitude,  admira- 
tion, and  praise.  How  many  (who  have  learned  not  to 
make  light  of  the  love  of  God,  as  the  most  do)  who  reckon 
in  his  favour  is  life,  to  whom  it  is  not  an  indifl!erent  thing 
whether  they  be  accepted  or  no ;  who  cannot  be  overly  in 
their  inquiry,  nor  trifle  with  matters  of  everlasting  conse- 
quence ;  who  are  not  enough  atheists  and  sceptics  to  permit 
all  to  a  mad  hazard,  nor  easy  to  be  satisfied ;  walk  mourn- 
fully from  day  to  day  with  sunk,  dejected  spirits,  full  of 
anxiety,  even  unto  agonies,  under  the  clear  external  dis- 
covery of  God's  love  to  persons  of  that  character  v.'hereof 

r  1  Cor.  ii   12.  9  John  xiv.  IS.  I  Ver.  18.  u  Ver.  21. 


they  really  are  !  Such  as  observe  them  judge  their  case 
plain,  and  every  one  thinks  well  of  them  but  themselves; 
yea,  their  mouths  are  sometimes  stopped  by  such  as  dis- 
course the  matter  with  them,  but  their  hearts  are  not  quieted, 
or,  if  they  sometimes  are,  in  a  degree,  yet  the  same  doubts 
and  fears  return  with  the  former  importunity,  the  same 
work  is  still  to  be  done,  and  'tis  but  rolling  the  returning 
stone:  and  all  human  endeavours  to  apply  and  bring  home 
the  comforts  proper  and  suitable  to  their  case  prove  fruit- 
less and  ineffectual,  nothing  can  be  fastened  upon  them  ; 
they  refuse  to  be  comforted,  while  God  himself  doth  not 
create  (that  which  is  the  fruit  of  his  own  lips)  peace,  peace ; 
while,  as  yet,  they  are  not  filled  with  joy  and  peace  in  be- 
lieving, and  made  to  abound  in  hope  through  the  power  of 
the  Holy  Ghost. y  It  is  plain  there  needs  a  more  learned 
tongue  than  any  human  one,  to  speak  a  word  in  season  to 
such  weary  ones.^  How  many,  again,  have  .spirits  over- 
come with  deadness  and  sloth,  under  a  settled  (perhaps 
not  altogether  mistaken,  but  more  notional)  apprehension 
of  the  .same  love!  They  have  only  that  assurance  which 
arises,  it  may  be.  not  from  a  false  but  the  single  testimony 
of  their  own  spirits  ;  at  least  unaccompanied  with  other 
than  the  ordinary  help  of  the  Spirit,  not  very  distinguish- 
able from  the  workings  of  their  own ;  have  reasoned  them- 
selves (perhaps  regularly,  by  observing  the  rule  and  the 
habitual  bent  of  their  own  spirits)  into  an  opinion  of  their 
own  good  estate,  so  that  they  are  not  vexed  with  doubts 
and  fears  as  some  others  are.  But  they  do  not  discover  to 
others,  nor  can  discern  in  themselves,  any  degree  of  life 
and  vigour,  of  heavenliness  and  spirituality,  of  love  to  God 
or  zeal  for  him,  proportionable  to  their  high  expectations 
from  him,  or  the  great  import  of  this  thing  to  be  beloved 
of  God :  there  is  no  discernible  growth  or  spiritual  im- 
provement to  be  found  with  them ;  how  remote  is  their 
temper  from  that  of  the  primitive  Christians  !  It  is  appa- 
rent what  is  yet  wanting,  they  are  not  edified  (as  those 
were)  walking  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord,  and  in  the  comfort 
of  the  Holy  Ghost. ^  Wherefore  the  matter  is  plain,  there 
is  such  a  thing,  as  an  effectual  overpowering  communica- 
tion of  the  Holy  Ghost  for  the  manifesting  of  the  love  of 
God,  of  great  necessity  and  importance  to  Christians  ;  that 
may  be  had,  and  ought  to  be  diligently  sought  after. 

2.  And  if  it  be  aflTorded;  (which  was  the  other  thingpro- 
posed  ;)  how  infinitely  delectable  is  that  manifestation!  the 
thing  itself  carries  its  own  reason  and  evidence  with  it. 

1.  If  we  consider  the  matter  represented  to  us  thereby  ; 
the  love  of  a  God  !  How  transporting  Avould  the  thought 
of  it  be  to  an  enlightened,  apprehensive  mind !  No  one 
whose  nature  is  not  overrun  with  barbarism  would  enter- 
tain the  discovery  of  the  harmless,  innocent  love  (though 
it  were  not  profitable  to  us)  even  of  a  creature  like  our-* 
selves,  otherwise  than  with  complacency  ;  yea,  though  it 
were  a  much  inferior  (even  a  brute)  creature.  Men  are 
pleased  to  behold  love  expressing  itself  towards  them  in  a 
child,  in  a  poor  neighbour,  in  an  impotent  servant  ;  yea, 
in  their  horse  or  their  dog.  The  greatest  prince  observes 
with  delight  the  affection  of  the  meanest  peasants  among 
his  subjects  ;  much  more  would  they  please  themselves  if 
they  have  occasion  to  take  notice  of  any  remarkable  ex- 
pression of  his  favourable  respect  to  them  !  but  how  un- 
speakably more,  if  he  vouchsafe  to  express  it  by  gracious 
intimacies,  and  by  condescending  familiarities !  How 
doth  that  person  hug  and  bless  himself !  How  doth  his 
spirit  triumph,  and  his  imagination  luxuriate  in  delight- 
ful thoughts  and  expectations,  who  is  in  his  own  heart 
assured  he  hath  the  favour  of  his  prince  !  yea,  with  what 
complacency  are  inward  friends  wont  to  receive  the  mu- 
tual expressions  of  each  other's  love  !  Ajid  can  it  be 
thought  the  love  of  the  great  and  blessed  God  should  sig- 
nify less?  How  great  things  are  comprehended  in  this, 
the  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth  hath  a  kindness  towards  me, 
and  bears  me  good  will !  How  grateful  is  the  relish  of  this 
apprehension,  both  in  respect  of  what  it,  in  itself,  imports, 
and  what  it  is  the  root  and  cause  of! 

True  ingenuity  values  love  for  itself.  If  such  a  one 
will  thinkof  me,  if  I  shall  have  a  place  in  his  remembrance, 
if  he  will  count  me  among  his  friends  ;  this  we  are  apt  to 
be  pleased  with.     And  tokens  are  sent  and  interchanged 


X  Ver.  23.        y  Rom.  xv.  13. 


z  Is3.  I. 


P.\3T  I. 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


371 


among  friends,  not  only  to  express  love,  but  to  preserve 
and  cherish  it,  and  keep  up  a  mutual  remembrance  among 
them.  And  as  there  is  a  great  pleasure  conceived,  in  re- 
ceiving such  expressions  or  pledgesof  love  from  a  friend, 
not  so  much  for  the  value  of  the  thing  sent,  as  of  what  it 
signifies,  and  is  the  token  of  his  love,  his  kind  remem- 
brance ;  so  is  there  no  less  pleasure  in  giving  and  send- 
ing, than  in  receiving:  because  that  hereby,  as  we  giatify 
our  own  love,  by  giving  it  a  kind  of  vent  this  way,  so  we 
foresee  how  we  shall  thereby  excite  theirs;  which  tliere- 
fore  we  put  a  value  upon,  even  abstracting  from  any  ad- 
vantage we  expect  therefrom.  And  this  haih  a  manifest 
reason  in  our  very  natures;  because  we  reckon  there  is 
an  honour  put  upon  us,  and  somewhat  is  attributed  to  us, 
when  we  are  well  thought  of,  and  a  kindne.^s  is  placed 
upon  us  ;  especially  by  such  as  have  themselves  any  repu- 
tation for  wisdom  and  judgment.  How  dignifying  is  the 
love  of  God !  How  honourable  a  thing  to  be  his  favour- 
ite !  The  apostle  seems  to  put  a  mighty  stress  on  this, 
when  he  utters  those  so  emphatical  words.  Wherefore  we 
labour  (so  defectively  we  read  it,  we  covet,  or  are  ambi- 
tious of  it  as  our  honour,  as  that  word  signifies)  that  whe- 
ther present  or  absent  we  may  be  accepted  of  him  ;b  q.  d. 
neither  life  or  death,  neither  being  in  the  body  or  out  of  it, 
signify  any  thing  to  me,  or  they  are  indifferent  things  in 
comparison  of  this  honour,  that  he  may  accept  me,  that  I 
ma)-  be  pleasing  to  him  and  gracious  in  his  eyes,  that  I 
may  stand  well  in  his  thoughts,  and  he  bear  a  kind  and  fa- 
vourable regard  to  me. 

Yea,  and  this  is  a  thing  in  itself  delightful,  not  only  as 
it's  honourable,  but  as  it  is  strange  and  wonderful.  Things 
that  are  in  themselves  grateful,  are  so  much  the  more  so, 
for  their  being  somewhat  surprising,  and  above  all  our  ex- 
pectation. I  say,  supposing  they  have  an  antecedent 
gratefulness  in  them,  for  (otherwise  we  know  there  are 
also  very  unwelcome  wonders,  and  which  are  so  much  the 
more  dreadful,  because  they  are  surprising  and  unexpect- 
ed) it  is  greatly  heightened  by  their  being  out  of  the  road 
quite  of  all  our  thoughts, — great  things  that  we  looked  not 
for.  And  who  would  have  looked  for  such  a  thing  as 
this,  that  the  Lord  of  glory  should  place  his  love  on  such 
a  worm  as  I  ?  Which  is  set  off  with  the  more  advantage, 
because  the  same  light  that  represents  to  a  soul  God's  love, 
doth  also  discover  to  it,  at  the  same  time,  its  own  deform- 
ity and  unloveliness.  And  then  how  taking  and  overcom- 
ing is  the  thought,  "  I,  impure  wretch  !  loathsome  miscre- 
ant !  that  lost  apostate  creature,  that  made  one  with  a  race 
and  crew  of  rebels,  was  confederate  with  rebellious  men 
against  him,  yea,  in  a  combination  with  those  revolted 
creatures  the  devils,  and  now  taken,  I  know  not  why,  into 
a  state  of  acceptance  and  favour  with  him!  and  his  love 
is  declared  to  be  towards  me  !  And  why  towards  me  1  in 
myself  so  vile  !  and  such  love  !  the  love  of  a  holy  glori- 
ous God,  towards  one  in  whose  very  nature  was  such  a 
horror  and  hell  of  wickedness  !  Why  towards  me  rather 
than  others,  not  natui ally  more  vile  than  I?"  How  can 
this  be  thought  on  without  crying  out,  O  wonderful !  O 
the  depths,  breadths,  lengths,  and  heights  of  this  love,  that 
so  infinitely  passeth  knowledge  !  and  here  the  greater  the 
wonder,  the  greater  is  also  the  delight. 

And  now  also  are  the  effects  of  this  love  great  in  the 
eyes  of  the  soul,  according  to  the  apprehended  greatness 
of  their  cause.  If  we  indeed  were  to  form  conceptions  of 
these  things  ourselves,  by  our  own  light  and  conduct,  our 
way  were  to  follow  the  ascending  order,  and  go  up  from 
the  effects  till  we  reach  the  cause.  But  he  can,  if  he 
please,  in  the  cause  present  to  us  the  effects,  and  magnify 
them  in  our  eyes,  b)^  giving  us  to  see  unto  how  great  and 
magnificent  a  cause  they  owe  themselves.  Now  shall  we 
know  whence  all  hath  p'roceeded  that  he  hatli  done  for  us. 
Wherefore  again  must  the  transported  soul  admiringly 
cry  out,  "I  now  see  whence  it  was  that  he  gave  his  Son, 
because  he  so  loved  the  world !  why  he  came  and  bled 
and  died,  who  hath  loved  us,  and  washed  us  from  our  sins 
in  his  blood!  What  a  lustre  doth  that  love  cast  upon 
those  sufferings  and  performances !  I  see  why  he  sent  his 
gospel  to  me,  why  so  convincing,  awakening" words  w^ere 
often  spoken  in  my  ear,  (I  see  much  in  what  once  I  saw 
but  little,)  why  he  so  earnestly  strove  with  me  by  his  Spi- 
b  2  Cor.  V.  9. 


rit,  why  he  gave  not  over  till  he  had  overcome  my  heart, 
why  he  humljled,  melted,  broke  me,  why  he  drew  so 
strongly,  bound  me  so  fast  to  himself,  in  safe  and  hap- 
py bonds ;  why  he  shone  into  my  mind  with  that  mild 
and  eflScacious  light,  transformed  my  whole  soul,  stamp- 
ed it  with  his  holy  image,  and  marked  me  out  for  his  own. 
These  are  now  great  things,  when  I  behold  their  glorious 
mighty  cause  !"  And  now  also  in  this  same  cause  are  all 
the  great  effects  to  be  seen  which  are  yet  to  be  brought 
about  by  it. 

They  are  seen  as  very  great.  His  continued  presence 
and  conduct,  which  he  affords  to  his  own  through  this 
world  ;  that  constant  fellowship  which  they  expect  him  to 
keep  with  them ;  the  guidance  and  .support  they  look  for  ; 
in  his  love  these  appear  great  things.  Arid  ncjw  doth  hea- 
ven sound  no  more  as  an  empty  name,  it  looks  not  like  a 
languid  faint  shadow;  somewhat  can  be  apprehended  of 
it  that  imports  substance,  when  it's  understood  to  be  a  state 
of  rest  and  blessedness  in  the  communion  of  the  God  of 
love  ;  and  intended  as  the  last  product  and  expression  of 
his  love  ! 

They  are  .seen  as  most  sure  and  certain.  Such  love, 
now  rnanifested  and  apprehended,  leaves  no  place  for 
doubtful  thoughts  and  suspicious  misgivings.  There  is 
no  fear  that  this  love  intends  to  impose  upon  us,  or  mock 
us  with  the  representation  of  an  imaginary  heaven ;  or 
that  it  will  fail  to  do  what  can  be  expected  from  it  to  bring 
us  to  the  real  one.  How  pleasant  is  it  now  to  behold  the 
great  and  sure  products  of  this  mighty  love!  its  admira- 
ble designs  and  projects,  as  they  appear  in  the  gospel  re- 
velation (now  illustrated  and  shone  upon  by  Divine  light) 
to  lie  ready  formed  in  the  pregnant  womb  of  this  great 
productive  cause.  It  cannot  but  be  an  unspeakable  plea- 
sure which  such  a  discovery  will  carry  with  it;  when  we 
thus  behold  the  matter  itself  that  is  discovered  and  offer- 
ed to  our  view,  unto  which  it  must  be  a  very  considerable 
additional  pleasure  that  will  arise, 

2.  From  the  nature  and  kind  of  this  manifestation.  As 
being. 

In  the  general  made  by  himself.  'Tis  a  too  plain  and 
sad  truth,  that  men  have  unhappily  learned  to  diminish 
God  to  themselves,  and  make  every  thing  of  him  seem 
little.  But  when  he  represents  his  love  himself  (as  who 
but  God  can  represent  the  love  of  God?  he  only  can  tell 
the  story  of  his  own  love)  that  evil  is  provided  against. 
He  will  manifest  it  so  as  it  shall  be  understood  ;  and  set 
it  off  to  the  best  advantage.  He  will  make  it  kno-wn  how 
great  a  thing  it  is  to  be  beloved  of  him.  And  when  he 
gives  that  blessed  salutation;  "  Hail,  thou  that  art  highly 
favoured!  O  thou  that  art  greatly  beloved!'"  he  will 
withal  bespeak  and  procure  a  suitable  entertainment  of  it. 
And  hence  particularly  it  will  be. 

Most  incomparably  bright  and  lightsome  in  respect  of 
any  representation  we  have  had  of  the  love  of  God  any 
other  way. 

Most  immediate,  that  is,  (at  least,)  so  as  not  to  be  only 
made  by  some  external  testimony,  given  out  many  an  age 
ago,  out  of  which  we  are  left  to  pick  what  we  can,  and  to 
construe  or  misconstrue  it  as  our  own  judgment  serves  us; 
but  so,  as  that  if  he  use  such  an  instrument,  he  animates 
it,  puts  a  .soul  into  it,  leaves  it  not  as  a  dead,  spiritless  let- 
ter :  and  applies  it  himself,  to  the  purpose  he  intends  by 
it,  and  immediatel}'  himself  reaches  and  touches  the  heart 
by  it. 

Most  facile  and  easily  sliding  in  upon  us;  so  that  we 
are  put  to  no  more  pains,  than  to  behold  the  light  which 
the  sun  casts  about  us  and  upon  us.  Whatever  labour  it 
was  necessary  for  us  to  use  before,  in  our  searches  and 
inquiries  into  the  state  of  our  case,  there  is  no  more  now 
than  in  moving,  being  carried  ;  or  in  using  our  own  weak 
hand  when  another  that  is  sufficiently  strong  lifts  and 
guides  it  for  us. 

Most  efficacious  Eind  overcoming :  that  makes  its  own 
way,  scatters  clouds,  drives  away  darkness,  admits  no  dis- 
putes, makes  doubts  and  misgiving  thoughts  vanish,  pierces 
with  a  quick  and  sudden  energy  like  lightning,  and  strikes 
through  the  mind  into  the  heart :  there  sheds  abroad  this 
love,  diffuses  the  sweet  refreshing  savcur  of  it:  actuates 
spiritual  sen«e,  makes  the  soul  taste  how   gracious   the 


372 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


Part  I, 


Lord  is,  and  relish  the  sweetness  of  his  love,  pats  all  its 
powers  into  a  suitable  mot'on,  and  excites  answerable  af- 
fection, so  as  to  make  the  soul  capable  of  interchanging 
love  with  love.  In  all  these  respects,  this  manifestation  of 
love  cannot  but  be  very  delectable;  and  they  who  have 
not  found  it  to  be  so,  will  yet  apprehend  that  it  must  be 
so,  if  they  have  found  and  experienced  the  cravings  of 
their  own  hearts  directed  this  way,  and  can  upon  inquiry 
find  this  among  the  things  they  would  fain  have  from  God  ; 
O  that  1  might  be  satisfied  of  his  love!  that  I  might  know 
his  good-will  towards  me !  for  to  such  cravings  must  this 
delight  at  least  be  commensurate  (as  was  formerly  said.) 
But  to  them  that  are  indifferent  in  this  matter  and  uncon- 
cerned, to  whom  the  love  of  God  is  a  fancy  or  a  trifle,  no 
real  or  an  inconsiderable  thing,  all  this  will  be  as  tasteless 
as  the  white  of  an  egg. 

Concerning  which  yet  (before  we  pass  from  this  head) 
'tis  needful  to  add  these  few  things  by  way  of  caution. 

1.  That  when  we  say  this  is  of  great  necessity,  we 
mean  not  that  it  is  simply  necessary  ;  we  think  it  not  so 
necessary  that  a  Christian  cannot  be  without  it ;  i.  e.  as  a 
Christian.  But  it  is  necessarj'  to  his  well  and  more  com- 
fortable being,  and  his  more  lively,  fruitful  walking  and 
acting  in  his  Christian  course. 

2.  That,  therefore,  the  way  of  God's  dealing  herein  is 
with  great  latitude  and  variety  ;  he  having  reserv'ed  to 
himself,  by  the  tenor  of  his  covenant,  a  liberty  to  afford 
or  suspend  it,  to  give  it  in  a  greater  degree  or  less  degree 
as  in  sovereignty  and  infinite  wisdom  he  pleases  and  sees 
fit  to  determine. 

3.  It  may  not,  theref  rre,  with  so  absolute  and  peremp- 
tory an  expectation,  be  .sought  after,  as  those  things  ma}' 
that  are  necessary  to  the  holding  of  souls  in  life;  but  with 
much  resignation,  submission,  and  deference  of  the  matter 
to  the  Divine  good  pleasure  ;  such  as  shall  neither  import 
disesleem  of  it,  nor  impatience  in  the  want  of  it. 

4.  That  it  ought  to  be  less  esteemed  than  the  heart-rec- 
tifying communication,  that  is  impressive  of  God's  image, 
and  whereby  we  are  made  partakers  of  his  holiness.  This 
proceeds  more  entirely  from  pure  love  to  God  for  himself, 
than  from  self-love;  this  tends  more  directly  to  the  pleas- 
ing of  us,  than  to  the  pleasing  of  God.  This  is  necessary, 
as  was  said,  but  to  our  well  or  better  being,  that  simply  to 
our  very  being  in  Christ ;  this  hath  its  greatest  real  value 
from  its  subserviency  to  the  other.  And  what  hath  its 
value  from  its  reference  to  another  must  be  of  less  value 
than  that. 

5.  That  it's  a  great  mistake  to  think  God  is  not  other- 
wise to  be  enjoyed  than  in  this  way  of  more  express  testi- 
fication of  his  love ;  as  if  you  could  have  no  enjoyment 
of  a  friend  otherwise  than  by  his  often  repeating  to  you,  I 
love  you,  I  love  you,  indeed  I  love  you. 

6.  That  it's  a  much  greater  to  place  the  sum  of  religion 
here;  and  that  any  should  make  it  the  whole  of  their  bu- 
siness to  seek  this,  or  to  talk  of  it ;  or  should  think  God 
doth  nothing  for  them  worth  their  acknowledgment,  and 
solemn  thanksgiving,  while  he  doth  not  this. 

7.  Most  of  all,  that  any  should  reckon  it  the  first  thing 
they  have  to  do  when  they  begin  to  mind  religion,  to  be- 
lieve God's  particular  love  to  them,  and  that  he  hath  elect- 
ed them,  pardoned  them,  and  will  certainly  save  them. 
So  too  many  most  dangerously  impose  upon  themselves  ; 
and,  accordingly,  before  any  true  humiliation,  renovation 
of  heart,  or  transaction  and  stipulation  with  the  Redeemer, 
do  set  themselves  to  believe,  and  it  may  be  seek  help  from 
God  more  strongly  to  believe  it,  when — as  the  devil  is  too 
ready  to  help  them  to  this  faith.  And  when  he  hath  done 
it,  they  cry  to  themselves,  Peace,  peace,  and  think  all  is 
well;  take  their  libertv,  and  humour  themselves,  live  as 
they  list,  and  say  that  for  so  long  a  time  they  have  had 
a.ssurance  of  their  salvation.  The  father  of  lies  must 
needs  be  the  author,  (or  the  fautor,  or  both,)  of  this  faith  ; 
for  it  is  a  lie  which  they  believe;  that  is,  that  they  are 
pardoned  and  accepted  of  God  is  a  downright  lie,  repug- 
nant to  his  word  and  the  tenor  of  his  covenant.  And 
for  any  thing  else  that  may  import  their  state  to  be  at  pre- 
sent safe,  is  to  them  no  credible  truth. 

8.  That,  for  the  most  part,  if  Christians,  upon  whom  the 
renewing  work  of  the  Holj-  Ghost  in  that  former  commu- 
nication halh  in  some  degree  taken  place,  do  yet  want  that 


degree  of  this  also,  which  is  necessary  to  free  them  from 
very  afflicting  doubts  and  fears,  and  enable  them  to  a 
cheerful  and  lively  walking  with  God  ;  it  is  to  be  reckoned 
their  own  fault;  either  that  they  put  too  much  upon  it, 
(too  little  minding  his  public  declarations  in  his  word,)  or 
do  unduly  seek  it,  or  unseasonably  expect  it ;  or  that  tney 
put  too  little  upon  it,  and  expect  or  seek  it  not  ;  or  that  by 
their  indulged  carnality,  earthliness,  vanity  of  spirit,  they 
render  themselves  incapable  of  it ;  or  by  their  careless 
and  too  licentious  walking,  or  their  either  resisting  or  ne- 
glecting holy  motions,  they  grieve  that  Spirit  that  would 
comfort  them.  For  though  the  restraint  of  such  more 
pleasant  communications  may  proceed,  sometimes,  from 
an  unaccountable  sovereignty,  that  owes  no  reason  to  us 
of  its  arbitrary  way  of  giving  or  withholding  favours;  yet 
withal,  we  are  to  know  and  consider,  that  there  is  such  a 
thing  as  paternal  and  domestic  justice  proper  to  God's 
own  family,  and  which,  as  the  Head  and  Father  of  it,  he 
exerciseth  therein  ;  whereby  (though  he  do  not  exercise  it 
ahke  at  all  times)  it  seems  meet  to  his  infinite  wisdom  to 
awaken  and  rouse  the  sloth,  or  rebuke  the  folly,  or  check 
the  vanity,  or  chastise  the  wantonness,  of  his  offending 
children  ;  and  that,  even  in  this  way,  by  retiring  himself, 
becoming  more  reserved,  withdrawing  the  more  discern- 
ible tokens  of  his  presence,  and  leaving  them  to  the  tor- 
ture sometimes  of  their  own  conjectures,  what  worse  thing 
may  ensue.  And  herein  he  may  design,  not  only  refor- 
mation to  the  delinquents,  but  instruction  to  others,  and 
even  vindication  of  himself.  For  however  these  his  deal- 
ings with  men's  .spirits  are  in  themselves  (as  they  must 
needs  be)  secret,  and  such  as  come  not  under  the  imme- 
diate notice  of  other  men ;  yet  somewhat  consequential 
thereto  doth  more  openly  appear,  and  becomes  obvious  to 
the  common  observation  of  serious  Christians  with  whom 
such  persons  converse  ;  that  is,  not  only  such  as  languish 
under  the  more  remarkable  terrors  of  their  spirits,  aJid  are 
visibly,  as  it  were,  consuming  in  their  own  flame ;  (ot 
which  sort  there  occur  very  monitory  and  instructive  ex- 
amples, at  some  times;)  but  even  such  also  as  are  depriv- 
ed of  his  quickening  influence,  and  have  only  somewhat 
remaining  in  them  that  is  ready  to  die,  that  are  pining 
away  in  their  iniquities,  and  sunk  deep  into  deadnessand 
carnality,  (for  his  comforting  communication  is  also  quick- 
ening, and  he  doth  not  use  to  withhold  it  as  it  is  quicken- 
ing, and  continue  it  as  it  is  comforting,  but  if  such  have 
comfort  such  as  it  is,  they  are  their  own  comforters,)  do 
carry  very  discernible  tokens  of  Divine  displeasure  upon 
them  ;  and  the  evils  and  distempers  under  which  their 
spirits  lie  wasting,  are  both  their  sin  and  punishment. 
Their  own  wickedness  corrects  them,  and  their  backslid- 
ing reproves  them.  And  that  reproof  being  observable, 
doth  the  same  time  warn  others,  yea  and  doth  that  right 
to  God,  as  to  let  it  be  seen  he  makes  a  difference,  and  re- 
fuses the  intimacies  with  more  negligent,  loose,  idle,  wan- 
ton professors  of  his  name,  which  he  vouchsafes  to  ha\'e 
with  some  others,  that  make  it  more  their  business  and 
study  to  carry  acceptably  towards  him,  andare  more  ma- 
nifestly seriou.s,  humble,  diligent,  obedient  observers  of 
his  will.  If,  therefore,  Ave  find  not  what  we  have  found 
in  this  kind,  however  the  matter  may  possibly  be  resolv- 
able into  the  Divine  pleasure,  (as  it  is  more  likely  to  be 
in  the  case  of  such  desertions  as  are  accompanied  with 
terror,  when  no  notorious  apostacy  or  scandalous  wicked- 
ness hath  gone  before,)  it  is  both  safe  and  modest,  yea  and 
obvious,  to  suspect  such  delinquencies  as  were  before 
mentioned,  are  designed  to  be  animadverted  upon ;  and 
that  the  love  hath  been  injured,  which  is  now  not  mani- 
fested as  heretofore. 

9.  That  3'et  such  a  degree  of  it  as  is  necessary  to  a  com- 
fortable serving  of  God  in  our  stations  being  afforded; 
such  superadded  degrees,  as  whereby  the  soul  is  in  fre- 
quent raptures  and  tran.sports,  are  not  to  be  thought  with- 
held penally,  in  any  peculiar  or  remarkable  respect,  or 
otherwise  than  it  may  be  understood  some  way  a  penalty, 
not  to  be  already  perfectly  blessed.  For  it  is  certain,  that 
such  rapturous  .sensations,  and  the  want  of  them,  are  not 
the  distinguishing  characters  of  the  more  grown,  strong, 
and  excellent  Christians,  and  of  them  that  arc  more  infirm, 
and  of  a  meaner  and  lower  pitch  and  stature.  Yea,  those 
ecstatical  emotions,  although  they  have  much  of  a  sensible 


Part  I. 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


373 


delectation  in  them,  (as  more  hereafter  may  be  said  to 
',hat  purpose,)  and  though  they  may,  in  part,  proceed  from 
the  best  and  most  excellent  cause,  do  yet,  il  they  be  fre- 
quent, (which  would  signify  an  aptitude  thereto,)  import 
somewhat  of  diminution  in  their  subject,  and  imply  what 
is  some  way  a  lessening  of  it,  that  is,  they  imply  the  per- 
sons that  are  more  disposed  this  way,  to  be  of  a  temper 
not  so  well  fixed  and  composed,  but  more  volatile  and 
airy  ;  which  yet  doth  not  intimate,  that  the  chief  cause  and 
author  of  those  motions  is  therefore  mean  and  ignoble; 
nay,  it  argues  nothing  to  the  contrary,  but  that  the  Holy 
Spirit  itself  may  be  the  supreme  cause  of  them.  For  ad- 
mitting it  to  be  so,  it  doth  not  alter  men's  natural  tempers 
and  complexions;  but  so  ads  them,  as  that  they  retain 
(and  express  upon  occasion)  what  was  peculiar  to  their 
temper  notwithstanding.  The  work  and  office  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  in  his  special  communications,  is  to  alter  and  new- 
mould  men  in  respect  of  their  moral  dispositions,  net  those 
which  are  strictly  and  purely  natural:  the  subject  is  in 
this  regard  the  same  it  was ;  and  whatsoever  is  received, 
is  received  according  to  the  disposition  of  that ;  and  it  gives 
a  tincture  to  what  supervenes  and  is  implanted  thereinto: 
whence  the  same  deg:ree  of  such  communicated  influence 
will  not  so  discernibly  move  some  tempers,  as  it  doth 
others ;  as  the  same  quantity  of  fire  will  not  so  soon  put 
solid  wood  into  a  flame,  as  it  will  light  straw.  That  some 
men  therefore  are  less  sensibly  and  passionately  moved 
with  the  great  things  of  God  (and  even  with  the  discovery 
of  his  love)  than  some  others,  doth  not  argue  them  to  have 
less  of  the  Spirit,  but  more  of  that  temper  which  better 
comports  with  deeper  judgment,  and  a  calm  and  sober  con- 
sideration of  things.  The  unapiness  of  .some  men's  affec- 
tions unto  strong  and  fervent  motion,  doth  indeed  arise 
from  a  stupid  inconsiderateness ;  of  some  others,  from  a 
more  profound  consideration,  by  which  the  deeper  things 
sink,  and  the  more  they  pierce  even  into  the  inmost  centre 
of  the  soul,  the  less  they  move  the  surface  of  it.  And 
though  I  do  not  think  the  saying  of  that  heathen  applica- 
ble to  this  case,  "  It  is  a  wise  man's  part  to  admire  no- 
thing;" for  here  is  matter  enough  in  this  theme,  the  love 
of  God,  to  justify  the  highest  wonderment  possible,  and  not 
to  admire  in  such  a  case  is  most  stupidly  irrational ;  yet  I 
conceive  the  admiration  (as  well  as  other  aflfections)  of 
more  considering  persons,  is  more  inward,  calm,  sedate, 
and  dispas.sionate,  and  is  not  the  less  for  being  so,  but  is 
the  more  solid  and  rational ;  and  the  pleasure  that  attends 
it,  is  the  more  deep  and  lasting.  And  the  fervour  that 
ensues  upon  the  apprehended  love  of  God,  prompting  them 
to  such  service  as  is  suitable  to  a  state  of  devotedness  to 
his  interest,  is  more  intense  and  durable  ;  of  the  others, 
more  flashy  and  incon.stant.  As,  though  flax  set  on  fire 
will  flame  more  than  iron ;  yet  withal  it  will  smoke  more, 
and  will  not  glow  so  much,  nor  keep  heat  so  long. 

10.  But  to  shut  up  this  discourse :  They  that  have  more 
transporting  apprehensions  of  the  love  of  God,  should  take 
heed  of  despising  them  who  have  them  not  in  just  the 
same  kind,  or  do  not  express  them  in  the  same  seraphic 
strains.  They  that  have  them  not,  should  take  heed  of 
censuring  those  that  with  humble  modesty,  upon  just  oc- 
casion, discover  and  own  Avhat  they  do  experience  in  this 
kind ;  much  less  should  conclude,  that  because  they  find 
them  not,  there  is  therefore  no  such  to  be  found,  which 
cynical  humour  is  too  habitual  to  such  tempers.  If  they 
do  fancy  such  to  be  a  weaker  sort  of  persons,  they  may  be 
sincere  for  all  that.  And  it  ought  to  be  considered  of 
whom  it  was  said,  that  he  would  not  quench  the  smoking 
flax.  The  grace  and  Spirit  of  Christ  ought  to  be  reveren- 
ced in  the  various  appearances  thereof;  whether  we  be  so- 
ber or  beside  ourselves — the  love  of  Christ  constraineth 
us.o  So  diversely  may  the  apprehensions  of  that  love  work 
in  the  same  person,  much  more  in  divers.  Christians 
should  be  shy  of  making  themselves  standards  to  one  ano- 
ther ;  which  they  that  do,  discover  more  pride  and  self- 
conceit  than  acqiiaintance  with  God,  and  more  admiration 
of  themselves  than  of  his  love. 

Thus  far  we  have  given  some  account  of  the  object  to 
be  delighted  in;  wherein,  if  any  think  strange  that  we 
have  spok3n  so  much  of  the  delectable  Divine  communica- 
tion as  belonging  to  the  object ;  (which  how  it  doth  hath 

c  2  Cor.  V.  13,  14. 
28 


been  sufficiently  shown  ;)  let  them  call  it,  if  they  please, 
a  preparing  or  disposing  of  the  subject ;  (which  it  also', 
making  its  own  way  into  the  soul,  as  hath  been  said,  efiec- 
tually  doth;)  and  if  the  necessity  of  it  be  acknowledged 
upon  that  account,  it  equally  answers  the  main  purpose 
aimed  in  all  this ;  and  had  it  been  only  so  considered, 
would  but  have  inferred  some  alteration  in  the  frame  and 
method  of  this  discourse,  but  not  at  all  of  the  substance 
and  design  of  it. 

II.  We  are  next  to  say  somewhat  briefly  of  the  delight 
itself  to  be  taken  therein.  Nor  shall  we  be  herein  so  cu- 
rious as  to  distinguish  (which  some  do)  delight  and  joy. 
The  distinction  wont  to  be  assigned,  cannot,  'tis  plain,  hold 
here,  so  as  to  make  the  former  of  these  signify  a  brutish 
affection  only,  and  the  latter  proper  to  rational  nature. 
Nor  is  there  any  such  propriety  belonging  to  the  words, 
but  they  may  be  rendered  (as  indeed  they  are  used  in 
Scripture)  promiscuously,  either  in  reference  to  the  matter 
of  intellectual  or  sensitive  complacenc)',  and  either  of  a 
reasonable  being,  or  an  unrea.sonable.  We  take  these 
therefore  to  signify  substantially  the  same  thing,  and  here 
delight  to  be  entirely  all  one  with  joy:  that  is,  there  is  not 
any  the  highest  degree  of  joy  which  may  not  fitly  enough 
be  comprehended  under  the  name  of  delight,  when  it  is 
placed  (as  here  it  is  required  to  be)  upon  the  blessed  God  ; 
whereof,  that  we  may  speak  the  more  full}',  it  will  be  ne- 
cessary to  preface  somewhat  concerning  its  general  na- 
ture ;  and  more  principally  as  it  is  found  in  man,  within 
which  compass  our  principal  business  lies. 

Delight,  in  the  general,  is  most  intimately  essential  to 
love  ;  which  imports  a  well-pleasedness  arising  from  the 
apprehended  goodness  or  congruity  of  the  thing  loved : 
and  it  seems  to  be  merely  by  accident,  that  there  is  any 
thing  else  in  love  besides  that  complacency  of  delight ; 
that  is,  what  there  is  else  belonging  to  the  nature  of  love 
arises  from  the  mixture  and  variety  which  is  to  be  found 
in  the  present  state  of  things;  which  if  it  were  at  present 
universally  and  perfectly  good,  and  as  most  rationally  it 
might  be  wished,  love  could  have  no  exercise  but  in  de- 
light. Not  being  so,  desire  that  it  might  be  so,  in  reference 
to  ourselves  and  others  whom  we  love,  comes  duly  to  have 
place  ;  together  with  other  acts  or  exercises  of  love,  which 
it  belongs  not  so  much  to  our  present  purpose  to  mention. 

For  instance,  whatsoever  we  can  love,  is  either  things 
or  persons;  whatsoever  things  we  love,  is  for  the  sake  of 
persons,  either  ourselves  or  others;  whom  also  we  love 
either  supremelj-  or  subordinately.  And  whomsoever  we 
love  supremely,  as  it  is  certainly  either  God  or  ourselves, 
we  love  whatsoever  else,  person  or  thing,  cither  for  God's 
sake  or  our  own.  Be  it  now  the  one  or  other,  or  where- 
soever we  can  place  our  love,  we  find  things  in  reference 
to  any  object  of  it,  not  yet  as  we  would  have  them,  and  as 
they  shall  be  permanent  and  last  always;  whereunto  this 
is  but  preparator3'only,  and  introductive.  The  creation  is 
indigent,  every  creature  wants  somewhat  even  whereof  it 
is  capable  ;  and  our  own  wants  in  many  respects  we  can- 
not but  feel.  Nothing  is  perfect  in  its  own  kind,  in  respect 
of  all  possible  accessories  thereto ;  even  the  state  of  glori- 
fied spirits  above  is  not  ever}'  way  perfect ;  much  is  want- 
ing to  their  full  and  complete  felicity  :  the  bod}'  and  com- 
munity whereto  they  belong,  the  general  assembly,  is  not 
3'et  entire  and  full ;  their  common  Ruler  and  Lord  is  not 
acknowledged  and  had  in  honour  as  he  shall  be.  In  the 
meauAvhile,  their  consummate  blessedness,  (which  much 
depends  on  these  things,)  and  the  solemn  jubilee  to  be  held 
at  the  close  and  finishing  of  all  God's  work,  is  deferred. 
Yea,  and  if  we  go  higher,  the  blessed  God  himself,  the 
Author  and  Original  of  all  things,  although  nothing  be 
wanting  to  the  real  perfection  of  his  being  and  ble.«;sedness, 
hath  yet  much  of  his  right  withheld  from  him  by  his  lapsed 
and  apostate  creatures ;  so  that,  which  way  soever  we  turn 
ourselves,  there  remains  to  us  much  matter  of  rational  (yea 
and  holy)  desire  ;  and  most  just  cause  that  our  love  (place 
we  it  as  well  and  dulj'  as  we  can)  have  its  exercise  that 
way;  we  have  before  us  many  desiderata,  according  as 
thinss  j'et  are.  Desire  is  therefore  love  suited  to  an  im- 
perfect state  of  things  wherein  it  is  yet  imperfect.  And 
because  it's  suited  to  such  a  state  of  things,  it  cannot 
therefore  but  be  imperfect  love,  or  love  tcvding  to  perfec- 


374 


OP  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


Part  L 


tion.  Pure  and  simple  delight  is  love  suited  to  a  state  of 
things  every  way  perfect,  and  whereto  there  is  nothing 
Jacking.  Wherefore  delight  appears  to  be  the  perfection 
of  love,  or  desire  satisfied.  But  now  because  this  present 
state  is  mixed,  and  not  simply  evil,  or  such  wherein  we 
find  no  present  good ;  therefore  the  love  which  is  suited 
thereto,  ought  consequently  to  be  mixed  of  these  two  espe- 
cially, (unto  which  two  the  present  discourse  is  both  ex- 
tended and  confined,  because  these  two  affections  only  are 
mentioned  in  the  text,)  desire  and  delight.  So  far  as  things 
are  otherwise  than  we  practically  apprehend,  'tis  fit  they 
should  be  with  ourselves  or  others  whom  we  love ;  our 
love  is  exercised  in  desire,  wherein  they  are  as  we  would 
have  them,  in  delight ;  for  then  our  desire  is  so  far  satis- 
fied ;  and  desire  satisfied  ceases,  though  love  do  not  cease. 
Or,  it  ceases  not  by  vanishing  into  nothing,  but  by  being 
satisfied  ;  that  is,  by  being  perfected  in  the  delight  which 
now  takes  place. 

The  one  of  these  is  therefore  truly  said  to  be  love  exer- 
eised  upon  a  good  which  we  behold  at  a  distance,  and  are 
reaching  at.  The  other,  love  solacing  itself  in  a  present 
good.  They  are  as  the  wings  and  arms  of  love  ;  those  for 
pursuits,  fkesc  for  embraces.  On  the  former  is  love  in 
motion ;  the  latter  is  love  in  rest.  And  as  in  bodily  mo- 
tion and  rest,  that  is  in  order  to  this,  and  is  perfected  in  it. 
Things  move,  not  that  they  may  move,  but  that  they  may 
rest;  (whence  perpetual  progressive  motion  is  not  to  be 
found;)  so  it  is  also  in  the  motion  and  rest  of  the  mind  or 
spirit.  It  moves  towards  an  object  with  a  design  and  ex- 
pectation to  rest  in  it,  and  (according  to  the  course  and 
order  which  God  hath  stated  and  set)  can  never  move  for- 
ward endlessly  towards  a  good  in  which  it  shall  not  at 
length  rest;  though  yet  desire  and  delight  have  a  continual 
vicissitude,  and  do  (as  it  were  circularly)  beget  one  ano- 
ther. And  thus  hath  God  himself  been  pleased  to  express 
his  own  delight,  or  the  joy  which  he  takes  in  his  people, 
even  by  the  name  of  rest,  viz.  that  of  love.  He  will  re- 
joice over  thee  with  joy,  he  will  rest  in  his  love.a  Where- 
fore delight  hath  not  been  unfitly  defined — the  repo.se  or 
rest  of  the  desiring  faculty  of  the  thing  desired. 

It  is  true,  that  love,  as  such,  hath  ever  somewhat  of 
delectation  in  it ;  for  we  entertain  the  first  view  of  any 
thing  we  apprehend  as  good,  with  some  pleasedness  therein, 
(so  far  as  it  is  loved,)  it  is  grateful  to  us,  and  we  are  grati- 
fied some  way  by  it ;  yea,  there  is  somewhat  of  this  before 
any  emotion  by  desire  towards  it ;  for  we  M'ould  not  desire 
it,  if  it  were  not  pleasing  to  us;  which  desire  is  then  con- 
tinued (as  far  as  love  is  in  exercise)  till  It  be  attained  for 
ourselves  or  others,  according  as  the  object  of  our  love 
{i.  e.  the  object  for  whom  as  we  may  call  it)  is.  Nor  is  that 
a  difficulty,  how  yet  there  may  be  somewhat  of  delecta- 
tion, and  even  of  rest,  in  this  love  of  desire.  For  the  soul 
doth  in  that  case,  while  it  is  thus  desiring,  rest  from  the 
indetermination  of  desire  :  that  is,  if  it  have  placed  love 
upon  any  one  (itself  or  another)  upon  whom  therefore  it 
doth  with  a  sort  of  pleasedness  stay  and  rest ;  it  doth  first, 
in  the  general,  desire  it  may  be  well  with  such  a  one  ;  and 
then,  if  any  thing  occur  to  its  notice,  that  it  apprehends 
would  be  an  advantage  to  the  person  loved  ;  though  it  cease 
not  desiring  it,  yet  it  ceases  from  those  its  former  hover- 
ings  of  desire  being  pitched  upon  this  one  thing,  as  satisfi- 
ed that  this  would  be  a  good  to  him  it  loves.  The  appetite 
stays  and  insists  upon  this  thing;  as  the  Psalmist,  One 
thing  have  I  desired.'  It  hath  here  as  it  were  a  sort  of  hy- 
pothetical rest ;  q.  d.  how  well  pleased  should  1  be  if  this 
were  compassed  and  brought  about  !  or  it  hath  an  antici- 
pated and  pre-apprehended  rest,  a  rest  in  hope,  (by  which 
the  object  is  some  way  made  present,)  as  it  is  said,  "  We 
rejoice  in  hope  of  the  glory  of  God."  For  there  is  no  ra- 
tional desire  which  is  not  accompanied  with  hope.  De- 
spair stifles  de.sire.  That  which  appears  simply  impossi- 
ble, pa.sses  for  nothing ;  and  goodness  goes  not  beyond  the 
compass  of  being.  But  whatsoever  appears  to  us  a  good 
(whether  for  ourselves  or  another)  that  is  suitable  and  pos- 
sible, that,  if  love  stir  in  reference  to  it,  becomes  the  object 
of  complacential  desire ;  that  is,  it  pleases  us  first  upon 
sight,  or  upon  such  an  apprehension  of  it;  the  appetite 
pitches,  centres,  and  rests  upon  it ;  and  then  we  pursue  it 
with  desire.     But  then  our  delectation  therein  grows,  as^ 

<J  Zeph.  iii.  17,  18. 


our  hope  doth  it  will  be  attained  ;  and  still  more  (if  we 
find  it  to  answer  its  first  appearance)  as  by  degrees  it  is 
attained  actually  ;  till  being  fully  attained,  our  desire  (a-s 
to  that  thing)  ends  in  all  the  delight  and  satisfaction  which 
it  can  afibrd  us.  So  that  the  delight  and  rest  which  fol- 
lows desire  in  the  actual  fruition  of  a  full  and  satisfying 
good,  is  much  more  intense  and  pure,  than  that  which 
either  goes  before,  or  doth  accompany  it ;  and  is  indeed 
the  same  thing  with  fruition  or  enjoyment  itself;  only  that 
this  term  hath  been,  by  some,  more  appropriated  to  signify 
the  delectation  which  is  taken  m  the  last  end,  unto  whicn 
yet  it  hath  no  more  native  designation  than  divers  other 
words.  We  have  then  thus  far  some  general  notion  of 
delight,  and  also  of  desire,  which  is  taken  in  here  only  on 
the  bye,  and  as  tending  somewhat  to  illustrate  the  other, 
whereof  yet  what  we  now  say  may  be  of  some  use  hereafter. 

We  are  next  to  speak  of  this  delight  in  special,  which  is 
here  to  be  placed  upon  God.  And  about  which  we  are  to 
consider,  both — what  it  is  we  are  called  to — and  how  we 
are  to  reckon  ourselves  called  to  it.     And, 

1.  That  we  may  show,  what  we  are  called  to.  Having 
in  this  general  account  spoken  only  of  human  delight,  or 
of  delight  as  it  is  to  be  found  among  men ;  it  will  now  be 
necessary, 

To  distinguish  this  into  merely  natural,  and  holy.  And 
when  we  thus  distinguish,  it  is  to  be  understood,  that  by 
natural  we  mean  what  is  within  the  sphere  of  nature  in  its 
present  corrupted  state;  otherwise,  what  was  natural  to 
man  did  (taken  in  a  large  sense)  include  holiness  in  it ; 
and  .so  the  addition  of  holiness  doth  but  make  up  purely 
natural  delight,  as  it  was  at  first :  but  as  the  case  now  is, 
the  distinction  is  necessary.  And  the  latter  of  these  only 
will  be  the  subject  of  our  following  discourse  ;  as  being 
only  suitable  to  the  blessed  object  whereon  it  must  termi- 
nate, and  only  capable  of  being  applied  thereto.  When 
therefore  our  delight  is  to  be  placed  and  set  on  God,  this 
must  be  understood  as  presupposed,  that  it  be  purified, 
drained  from  the  pollution  and  impure  tinctures  which  It 
hath  derived  from  our  vitiated  natures,  and  further  con- 
tracted by  our  converse  with  impure,  mean,  and  vile  things. 
For  only  that  delight  is  to  be  placed  on  God  which  can 
be  so  placed  ;  and  delighting  in  God  being  duly  designed, 
that  is,  by  consequence  designed  which  is  necessary  tliere- 
to ;  and  thereto  is  necessary,  not  merely  the  direction  of 
one  such  particular  act  towards  God,  but  a  holy  principle, 
as  pre-requisite  to  the  right  doing  even  of  that  also.  Unholy 
loves  declines  God  ;  and  indeed  it  is  unholy  inasmuch  as 
it  doth  so.  Whence  therefore  it  is  as  impossible  it  should 
be  set  on  God,  remaining  unholy,  as  that  it  should  be  ano- 
ther thing  from  itself,  and  yet  be  still  wholly  what  it  was. 
Although  it  cannot  be  another  thing  in  its  general  nature, 
(as  it  is  not  necessary  it  should,)  it  must  be  a  much  alter- 
ed thing,  by  the  accession  of  holiness  thereto.  And  this 
coming  upon  the  whole  soul,  even  upon  all  its  faculties 
and  powers,  doth  therein  spread  itself  unto  its  delight  also. 
Delight  in  God  is  not  the  work  of  an  unholy  heart.  And 
(as  may  be  collected  from  what  hath  been  said)  holiness 
consisting  in  a  right  disposition  of  heart  towards  God,  a 
divine  nature,  participated  from  him,  conformed  to  him, 
which  works  and  lends  towards  him,  and  in  itself  so  de- 
lightful a  thing;  it  may  thence  be  seen  what  holy  delight 
is,  or  wherein  the  holiness  of  it  stands. 

It  must  to  this  purpose  be  considered,  that  this  holy  de- 
light is  twofold,  according  to  a  twofold  consideration  of 
the  delectable  object,  into  which  what  was  formerly  said 
about  it  may  be  reduced.  All  delight  in  God  supposes,  as 
hath  been  said,  some  communication  from  him. 

Tliat  communication  is  either  of  light,  whereby  his  na- 
ture and  attributes  are  in  some  measure  known  ;  or  of 
operative  influence,  whereby  his  image  is  impressed,  and 
the  soul  is  framed  according  to  his  will.  And  so  it  is 
partly  mental  or  notional  (I  mean  not  merely  notional,  but 
that  hath  with  it  also  an  aptitude  to  beget  a  correspondent 
impression  on  the  soul,  and  not  engage  it  in  some  .specula- 
tions concerning  him  only)  and  partly  real,  that  actually 
begets  such  an  impression  itself.  It  is  partly  such  as  may 
be  understood,  and  partly  such  as  may  be  felt;  the  mani- 
festation of  his  love  partly  belongs  to  the  one  of  these,  and 
partly  to  the  other. 

e  Psal    .M\ii.  4. 


Part  I. 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


375 


Answerably  hereto,  the  delight  that  is  taken  in  him,  is 
either  more  open  and  explicit,  and  wherein  a  person  reflects 
apon  and  lakes  notice  of  his  own  act  and  wJiereupon  it  is 
exercised — or,  more  latent,  implicit  and  unobserved,  when 
hisdelight  lies  folded  np  in  other  acts  and  dispositions  which 
have  another  more  principal  design,  though  that  also  is  in- 
volved in  them.  The  former  way,  the  soul  delights  in  God 
more  directly,  applying  itself  thereto  on  purpose,  and  bend- 
ing the  mind  and  heart  intentionally  thereto;  its  present 
views  of  him  having  that  very  design  and  aim.  The  ialtcr 
way,  it  delights  in  him  rather  collaterally  when  its  present 
action  (as  well  as  the  disposition  leading  to  it)  hath  another 
more  direct  scope  and  aim.  And  the  de  ight  only  adheres 
to  the  act,  as  being  in  itself  delightful;  as  for  instance, 
the  acts  of  repentance,  trust,  self-denial,  &c.  which  have 
another  end  than  delight,  though  that  insinuates  into  them. 
The  former  of  these  may  be  called  contemplative  delight : 
the  soul  solacing  itself  in  a  pleasant  meditation  of  God, 
whereby  its  delight  in  him  is  excited  and  stirred  up.  The 
latter  (understanding  sense  spiritually,  as  it  belongs  to  the 
new  creature,  and  is  taken  Phil.  i.  9.  Heb.  v.  ult.)  may  be 
called  sensitive  delight;  whereby  the  soul,  as  it  were,  tastes 
how  gracious  the  Lord  is.  Which  though  it  doth  by  the 
other  also,  yet  the  distinction  holds  in  respect  of  the  way 
wherein  the  delight  is  begotten  and  begun,  if  not  in  re- 
spect of  the  thing  itself,  begotten,  or  wherein  the  matter 
ends.  In  the  former  way,  the  soul  more  expressly  reflects 
upon  its  own  present  exercise,  which  it  directly  intends. 
In  the  latter,  it  may  not  reflect  expressly  either  upon  its 
actual  delight  which  it  hath,  nor  actually  consider  God  as 
the  object  that  yields  it  that  pleasure  ;  as  I  may  be  de- 
lighted by  the  pleasant  taste  of  this  or  that  food,  without 
considering  what  the  thing  is  I  am  feeding  on;  nor  have 
distinct  reflection  on  the  pleasure  I  take  therein,  having 
another  and  more  principal  design  in  eating,  the  recruiting 
of  my  strength,  and  that  delight  being  only  accessor}'  and 
accruing  on  the  bye.  The  former  is  less  durable,  and 
sooner  apt  to  vanish  upon  the  cessation  of  the  present  act, 
like  the  delight  of  the  eye.  The  latter  is  more  permanent, 
as  that  of  the  taste,  and  habitual ;  such  as  is  the  pleasure 
of  any  thing  whereof  one  hath  a  continued  possession,  as 
of  a  confirmed  state  and  habit  of  health,  or  of  the  riches, 
dignities,  pleasant  accommodations  which  belong  to  any 
one's  settled  condition;  of  which  he  hath  that  continual 
enjoyment  that  insensibly  forms  his  spirit,  raises  and  keeps 
it  up  to  a  pitch  suitable  to  his  condition,  though  he  have 
not  every  day  or  hour  distinct  formed  thoughts  of  them, 
nor  is  often  in  that  contemplative  transport  with  Nebuchad- 
nezzar.— Is  not  this  great  Babylon  which  I  have  built  1 
&e. 

Both  these  are  holy  delight,  or  delight  in  God.  In  both 
whereof  may  be  seen,  added  to  the  general  nature  of  de- 
light, a  holy  nature  as  the  principle,  inferring  a  powerful 
steady  determination  of  the  heart  towards  God,  as  the 
object  and  end  which  it  ultimately  tends  to,  and  terminates 
upon.  Though  in  the  former  way  of  delighting  in  God, 
the  soul  tends  towards  him  more  directly  :  in  the  latter 
(according  as  the  acts  may  be  to  which  the  delight  adheres,) 
more  obliquelj^  and  through  several  things  that  ma}'^  be 
intermediate  unto  that  final  and  ultimate  object. 

And  both  these  may  fitly  be  understood  to  be  within  the 
meaning  of  this  text ;  which  therefore  we  shall  now  consider 
apart  and  severally ;  though  both  of  them  very  briefly. 

And  we  begin  with  the  latter  of  them.  For  though  the 
former  hath,  in  some  respect,  an  excellency  in  it  above  the 
latter;  yet  as  the  progress  of  nature  in  other  creatures  is 
by  way  of  ascent,  from  what  is  more  imperfect  to  what  is 
perfecter  and  more  excellent ;  so  is  it  with  the  communi- 
cated divine  nature  in  the  new  creature,  which  puts  itself 
forth,  first  in  more  imperfect  operations,  tho  buddings,  as 
it  were,  of  that  tree  of  life  which  hath  its  more  florid  blos- 
soms, and  at  length  its  ripe  and  fragrant  fruit  afterwards; 
or,  (to  come  nearer  the  case,)  inasmuch  as  the  latter  sort  of 
delight  (according  to  the  order  wherein  we  before  men- 
tioned them)  hath  more  in  it  of  the  exercise  of  spiritual 
sense,  the  other  more  of  spiritual  reason  ;  since  human 
creatures,  that  have  natures  capable  of  botli  sorts  of  func- 
tions, do  first  exercise  sense,  and  by  a  slower  and  more 
fradual  process,  come  on  to  actsof  ratiocination  afterwards. 
o  it  is  here,  the  soul  in  wliich  the  divine  life  hath  taken 


place,  doth  first  exercise  itself  in  spiritual  sensations;  so 
that  though,  in  the  matter  of  delight,  it  is  not  destitute  of 
the  grateful  relishes  of  things  truly  and  spiritually  delect- 
able ;  yet  the  more  formed  and  designed  acts  of  holy  de- 
lectation, in  the  highest  object  thereof,  distinctly  appre- 
hended and  pitched  upon  for  that  purpose,  do  follow  in 
their  season;  and  these  are  preparations,  and  the  essays 
of  the  new  creature,  gradually  and  more  indistinctly  put- 
ting forth  itself  in  order  thereto;  the  embryos  of  the  other. 
If  therefore  it  be  inquired,  wherein  the  delight  of  this 
more  imperfect  sort  doth  consist!  I  answer,  in  the  soul's 
sensation  and  relish  of  sweetness  in  the  holy,  quickening 
communications  of  God  unto  it,  by  which  he  first  forms  it 
for  himself,  and  in  the  operations  which  it  is  hereby  en- 
abled lo  put  forth  towards  him,  while  it  is  in  the  infancy 
or  childhood  of  its  Christian  state.  Nor,  while  we  say  the 
delight  of  this  kind  doth  more  properly  belong  to  the 
younger  and  more  immature  state  of  Christianity,  do  we 
thereby  intend  wholly  to  appropriate  or  confine  it  to  that 
slate.  For  as  when  a  child  is  grown  up  to  the  capacit}-  oi 
exercising  reason,  it  doth  not  then  give  over  to  use  sense, 
but  continues  the  exercise  of  it  also  in  its  adult  state, 
even  as  long  as  the  person  lives;  only,  in  its  infancy  and 
childhood  its  life  is  more  entirely  a  life  of  sense,  though 
there  are  early  buddings  of  reason,  that  soon  come  to  be 
intermingled  therein;  notwithstanding  which,  the  princi- 
ple that  rules  and  is  more  in  exercise,  more  fitlj'  gives  the 
denomination.  So  it  is  in  this  case  also ;  that  is,  though 
there  are  sensations  of  delight  and  pleasure  in  religion, 
(yea,  and  those  more  quick,  confirmed,  and  strong  in  more 
grown  Christians.)  yet  these  sensations  are  more  single 
and  unaccompanied  (though  not  altogether)  with  the  ex- 
ercise of  spiritual  reason  and  judgment,  and  do  less  come 
in  that  way  with  Christians  in  their  minority,  than  with 
others  or  themselves  afterwards.  Therefore  that  which  we 
are  to  understand  ourselves  called  to  under  the  name  of  de- 
lighting in  God  (thus  taken)  is, — the  keeping  of  our  souls 
open  to  Divine  influences  and  communications; — thirst- 
ing after  them,  praying  and  waiting  for  them  ; — endeavour- 
ing to  improve  them  and  co-operate  with  them,  and  to  stir 
up  ourselves  unto  such  exercises  of  religion  as  they  lead 
to,  and  are  most  suitable  to  our  present  state : — together 
with  an  allowing  yea,  and  applving  ourselves  to  stay 
and  taste  in  our  progress  and  course,  the  sweetness  and 
delightfulness  of  those  communications  and  operations 
whereof  we  have  any  present  experience.  For  instance; 
when  we  find  God  at  work  with  us,  and  graciously  deal- 
ing with  our  spirits,  to  humble  them,  break  and  melt  them 
under  a  sense  of  sin,  incline  and  turn  them  towards  him- 
self, draw  them  to  a  closure  with  his  Son  the  Redeemer, 
to  a  resignation  and  surrender  of  ourselves  to  him,  upon 
the  terms  of  his  covenant  and  law  of  grace  ;  yea,  and 
when  afterwards  we  find  him  framing  our  hearts  to  a 
course  of  holy  walking  and  conversation ;  to  the  denial  of 
ungodliness  and  worldly  lusts ;  to  a  sober,  righteous,  and 
godly  life  in  this  present  world  ;  to  the  exercises  of  piety, 
sobriety,  righteousness,  charity,  mercy,  &c.  And  now  this 
or  the  like  heavenly  dictate  occurs  to  us,  "Delight  thyself 
in  the  Lord  ;"  what  doth  it  import  ^  what  must  we  under- 
stand i!  to  say  or  signify  to  us  "?  Though  this  that  hath 
been  mentioned,  and  which  we  are  now  saying,  is  not  all 
that  it  signifies ;  (as  will  be  shown  hereafter;)  yet  thus  much 
we  must  understand  it  doth  signify  and  say  to  us  :  "  Thy 
only  true  delights  are  to  be  found  in  a  course  of  religion  ; 
they  are  not  to  be  expected  from  this  world,  or  thy  former 
sinful  course;  but  in  exercising  thyself  unto  godliness,  in 
receiving  and  complying  with  the  Divine  discoveries,  re- 
commended to  thee  "in  "the  Gospel,  and  (through  ihern) 
the  influences  of  life  and  grace,  which  readily  flow  in 
upon  any  soul  that  hungers  and  thirsts  after  righteous- 
ness ;  aiid  by  which  thou  mayest  be  framed  after 
the  good  and'holv  and  acceptable  will  of  God.  Herein 
thou  shaft  find  siich  pleisures  and  delights  entertaining 
thy  soul,  as  that  thou  wilt  have  no  cause  to  envy  wicked 
men  their  sensual  delights  which  they  find  in  their  sinful 
way;  if  thou  wilt  but  observe  what  thou  findesl.  and  exer- 
cise thy  sense,  to  discern  between  good  and  evil ;  and  set 
thyself  to  consider  whether  there"  be  not  as  well  more 
satisfying,  as  purer,  relishes  of  pleasure,  in  mortifpng  the 
flesh  with  the  affections  and  lusts  thereof,  in  denying  thy- 


S76 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


Part  I, 


self,  in  dying  to  this  world,  in  living  to  God,  in  minding 
the  things  of  another  world,  in  giving  up  thyself  to  the 
several  exercises  of  a  holy  life,  watching,  praying,  medi- 
tating, &.C.  in  trusting  in  the  Lord  with  all  thy  heart,  and 
in  doing  all  the  good  thou  canst  in  thy  place  and  station, 
letting  so  thy  light  shine  before  men,  that  they  seeing  thy 
good  works,  may  glorify  thy  Father  which  is  in  heaven ; 
in  contentment  with  what  thou  enjoyest,  and  patience  un- 
der what  thou  sufferest  in  this  world,  in  doing  justice, 
loving  righteousness,  and  walking  humbly  with  thy  God ; 
than  ever  the  vanishing  pleasures  of  sin  did  or  can  afford." 
Thus  into  these  two  things  may  all  be  summed  up,  which 
delighting  in  God  imports  according  to  this  notion  of  it 
— I.  The  applying  ourselves  to  those  things  by  the  help  of 
God's  own  communicated  influence  (which  in  that  case 
will  not  be  withheld)  wherein  the  matter  of  delight  lies — 
2.  The  reflecting  upon  the  things  themselves  that  are  so 
delightful,  and  setting  ourselves  to  discern,  and  tasting 
actually  the  delectahleness  of  them.  And  surel}'^,  if  such 
words,  "  Delight  thyself  in  the  Lord,"  do  say  to  us  all 
this,  the}^  do  not  say  nothing  ;  nor  say  any  thing  imperti- 
nent, either  to  their  own  native  import,  or  our  state  and 
condition  in  this  world. 

Ob.  But  here  it  may  be  objected ;  If  we  so  interpret 
delighting  in  God,  we  shall  by  this  means  bring  the  whole 
of  religion,  and  all  sorts  of  actions  that  are  governed  and 
directed  by  it,  within  the  compass  of  this  one  thing ;  and 
make  delighting  in  God  swallow  up  all  that  belongs  to  a 
Christian,  and  be  the  same  thing  with  repentance,  faith, 
self-denial,  humility,  meekness,  patience,  &c.  which  would 
sure  seem  too  much  to  be  comprehended  under  the  name 
of  one  particular  holy  action  or  affection  ;  especially  that 
they  should  be  called  delighting  in  God,  when  in  the  ex- 
ercise of  divers  of  these,  God  may  possibly  not  be  in  that 
instant  actually  so  much  as  thought  on.  Ans.  To  this  it 
may  be  sufficiently  answered  ; 

1.  That  these  things  cannot  be  hence  said  with  any  pre- 
tence to  be  made  the  same  thing  with  delighting  in  God  ; 
but  only  that  there  is  a  delight  adhering  to  all  these;  no 
more  than  it  can  be  said,  when,  at  some  splendid  treat  or 
entertainment,  there  is  a  great  variety  of  delicious  meats 
and  wine,  which  do  therefore  all  agree  in  this, — that  they 
are  delectable ;  that  all  these  dishes  and  liquors  are  there- 
fore one  and  the  same.  Or,  if  the  master  of  the  feast  call 
upon  his  guests  to  delight  themselves  with  him  their  friend, 
(as  here  the  particle  in  the  text,  which  we  read  delight 
thyself  m  the  Lord,  may  be  read  delight  thyself  wzYA  him,) 
and  he  explains  himself,  that  he  means  by  tasting  this  and 
that  and  another  sort  of  his  provisions,  and  eating  and 
drinking  cheerfitlly  thereof,  surely  his  words  could  not 
with  more  reason  than  civility  be  capable  of  that  snarling 
reply;  that,  therefore,  it  seems,  he  thought  the  things 
themselves  or  their  tastes  and  relishes  were  all  one.  For 
though  they  all  afford  delight,  yet  each  of  a  different  kind. 

2.  But  are  not  all  these  truly  delectable  ]  Is  there  not 
a  real  delight  to  be  had  in  them  1  Let  any  man,  that  hath 
tried,  consult  his  experience;  yea,  let  any  one  that  hath 
not  besotted  his  soul,  and  infatuated  his  understanding, 
but  seriously  consider  the  very  ideas  of  the.se  things,  and 
revolve  the  notions  of  them  in  his  mind,  and  then  soberly 
judge,  whether  they  be  not  delightful  1  And  if  so,  when 
there  is  an  actual  sense  of  pleasure  and  sweetness  in  the 
communicated  power,  and  in  the  practice  of  them,  why  is 
not  this  delighting  in  God  1  Admit  that  he  is  not  actually 
thought  on  in  some  of  these  exercises ;  as  when  I  freely 
forgive  a  wrong,  or  relieve  a  distressed  person,  or  right  a 
wronged  one ;  if  yet  I  do  these  things,  from  the  radical 
principle  of  the  love  of  God  deeply  settled  in  my  soul, 
and  with  a  sensible  delight  accompanying  ray  act,  and  the 
di.sposition  I  find  in  mine  heart  thereunto ;  here  is  not, 
'tis  true,  the  very  act  of  deliarhting  in  God,  formally  termi- 
nated upon  him  as  the  Object ;  but  it  is  he  that  gives 
me  this  delight,  and  is  the  material  Object  (as  well  as 
Author)  of  it.  The  communication  is  from  him,  whereby 
I  am  delighted,  and  enabled  to  do  the  things  that  are  fur- 
ther delightful.  As  if  I  converse  with  an  excellent  person, 
my  intimate  friend,  who  is  at  this  time  incognito,  and  by 
a  disguise  conceals  himself  from  me,  or  I  through  my  for- 
getfmbess  or  inadvertency  have  no  present  thoughts  of  this. 

f  Job  xxxiv.  a. 


person  ;  but  I  hear  his  pleasant  discourse,  and  am  much  ta- 
ken with  it,  and  the  person  on  the  account  of  it :  it  is  my 
friend  that  I  delighted  in  all  this  while  though  I  knew  it  not. 

3.  And  what  fault  can  I  find  in  the  matter  that  divine 
delight  thus  runs  and  spreads  itself  through  the  whole 
business  of  religion,  and  all  the  affairs  whereon  it  hath  any 
influence  1  Is  this  the  worse  or  the  better  1  Have  I  any 
cause  to  quarrel  at  this  "?  Sure  I  have  not.  But  if  I  have 
not  such  actual  thoughts  of  God,  as  may  give  me  the  ad- 
vantage of  terminating  my  delight  more  directly  on  him, 
that  may  be,  very  much,  my  own  fault. 

4.  And  what  is  that  an  absurdity,  that  under  the  name  of 
delighting  in  God,  the  several  acts  and  exercises  of  religion 
besides  should  be  comprehended  1  How  often  in  Scripture 
are  other  (no  more  eminent)  parts  of  religion  put  for  the 
whole.  The  knowledge  of  God,  calling  upon  God,  the  fear 
of  God,  &c.  How  commonly  are  these  acknowledged  to 
be  paraphrases  of  religion  !  And  shall  I  not  add,  the  love 
of  God  1  that  most  authentic  and  owned  summary  of  all 
practical  religion,  and  which  ought  to  influence  all  our 
actions.  And  then  how  far  are  we  from  our  mark?  What 
is  the  diflference  between  loving  God,  and  delighting  in  him  1 
But  I  moreover  add,  that  delight  itself  in  hira,  cannot  but 
be  so  taken  in  that  sharp  passage ;  (though  misapplied  to 
the  person  of  whom  it  was  meant ;)  for  Job  hath  said,  what 
profit  is  it  that  a  man  should  delight  him.self  with  God,' 
i.  e.  or  be  religious  1  It  fitly  enough  signifies  religion,  as 
thus  modified  or  qualified,  viz.  as  having  this  quality 
belonging  to  it,  that  it  is  delightful,  or  tinctured  with 
delight  in  God.  But  this  (so  large)  is  not  the  only  sense, 
as  we  haA^e  said,  wherein  we  are  to  take  delighting  in  God. 
And  when  any  part  of  religion  casts  its  name  upon  the 
whole,  it  would  be  veiy  unreasonable  to  exclude  the  part 
from  which  the  denomination  is  taken,  or  not  to  make  that 
the  principal  thing  there  meant.  We  therefore  proceed  to 
speak, 

2.  Of  the  more  explicit  delight  in  God :  and  shall  therein 
consider, — the  nature  and  modification  of  it. 

1.  Its  nature;  which  from  what  hath  been  said  of  delight 
in  the  general,  with  the  addition  of  holiness  thereto,  (which 
is  the  work  of  God's  Spirit,  determining  the  act  or  faculty 
to  which  it  adheres  towards  God,)  may  be  conceived  thus, — 
That  it  is  the  acquiescence  or  rest  of  the  soul  in  God,  by  a 
satisfiedness  of  will  in  him,  as  the  best  and  most  excellent 
good.  That  it  be  the  rest  of  the  soul,  belongs  to  its  general 
nature.  And  so  doth  the  mentioned  kind  of  rest,  more  dis- 
tinguishingly,  by  the  will's  satisfiedness  in  him,  because  the 
soul  may  be  also  said  to  rest  satisfied  (in  respect  of  another 
faculty)  by  the  mere  knowledge  of  truth ;  but  this  supposes 
so  much  of  that  also  as  is  necessary.  And  because  the  acts 
of  the  understanding  are  subservient  and  in  order  to  those 
of  the  will,  in  the  soul's  pursuit  of  a  delightful  good; 
which  is  so  far  attained  as  it  actually  delights  therein  ; 
therefore  this  may  more  simply  be  called  the  rest  of  the 
whole  soul,  whereas  that  other  is  its  rest  but  in  some  respect 
onl\':  especially  when  we  add,  as  in  the  best  and  most 
excellent  good;  for  this  signifies  the  good  wherein  it  rests 
to  be  ultimate,  and  its  last  end,  the  very  period  of  its  pur- 
suits, beyond  which  it  neither  needs  nor  desires  to  go  fur- 
ther, i-iz.  as  to  the  kind  and  nature  of  the  good  which  it  is 
now  intent  upon  ;  though  it  still  desire  more  of  the  same, 
till  there  be  no  place  left  for  further  desire,  but  it  wholly 
cease  and  end  in  full  satisfaction.  And  that  we  may 
speak  somewhat  more  particularly  of  this  rest  in  God  ;  it 
supposes, 

1.  Knowledge  of  him.  That  the  soul  be  well  furnished 
with  such  conceptions  of  his  nature  and  attributes,  as  that 
it  may  be  truly  said  to  be  himself  it  delights  in,  and  not 
another  thing;  not  an  idol  of  its  own  fancy,  and  which  its 
imagination  hath  created  and  set  up  to  it  instead  of  God. 
Therefore  his  own  representation  of  himself  must  be  our 
measure  ;  which  being  forsaken,  or  not  so  diligently  attend- 
ed to,  he  is  either  by  some  misrepresented,  (according  as 
their  own  corrupt  hearts  do  suggest  impure  thoughts,)  and 
made  altogether  such  a  one  as  themselves,  and  such  as 
cannot  be  the  object  of  a  pure  and  spiritual  delight;  or  by 
others  (as  their  guilt  and  fear  do  suggest  to  them  black 
and  direful  thoughts  of  him)  rendered  such  as  that  he  can- 
not be  the  object  of  any  delight  at  all. 


Va^t  I 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


37 


2.  It  supposes  actual  thoughts  of  him ;  "  My  soul  shall 
be  saiisfied  as  with  marrow  and  fatness,  when  I  remem- 
ber thee  upon  my  bed,  and  meditate  on  thee  in  the  night 
watches. "s 

3.  A  pleasedness  with  even  the  first  view  or  apprehen- 
sion of  him;  which  is  most  essential  to  any  love  to  him, 
and  which  gives  rise  to  any  motion  of, 

4.  Desire  directed  towards  him,  upon  the  apprehension 
that  somewhat  is  absent,  either  of  what  is  due  to  him,  or 
lacking  to  ourselves  from  him. 

5.  It  includes  the  satisfaction  or  repose  itself  which  the 
soul  hath,  so  far  as  it  finds  its  desire  answered  in  the  one 
kind  or  the  other.  Where  we  must  more  distinctly  know, 
that  the  delight  taken  in  him,  is  according  as  the  desire  is 
which  works  towards  him,  and  that  as  our  love  to  him  is: 
now  we  love  him  either  for  himself,  or  for  our  ownselves. 

For  himself,  ultimately,  so  as  that  our  love  periods  in 
him,  and  stays  there,  viz.  on  him,  as  good  in  himself. 

Fov  ourselves ;  as  when  our  love  to  him  returns  upon 
ourselves,  apprehending  a  goodness  in  him  which  is  suit- 
able for  our  enjoyment.  Loving  him  in  ihe  for vier  way, 
we  desire  all  may  be  ascribed  and  given  to  him,  that  pos- 
sibly may  or  can.  And  because  we  know  him  to  be  every 
way  perfect  and  full,  and  that  nothing  can  be  added  to 
him  of  real  perfection,  and  therefore  nothing  can  be  given 
him  besides  external  honour  and  acknowledgments,  we 
therefore  desire  these  may  be  universally  rendered  him  to 
the  very  uttermost.  And  as  far  as  we  find  him  worthily 
glorified,  admired,  and  had  in  honour,  so  far  we  have  de- 
light in  (or  in  reference  to)  him ;  consisting  in  the  gratifi- 
cation of  that  desire.  Loving  liim  in  the  other  ivaij,  {which. 
also  we  are  not  only  allowed,  but  obliged  to  do,  in  contra- 
distinction to  all  creature  good,)  we  desire  his  nearer  pre- 
sence and  converse,  more  full  communications  of  his 
light,  grace,  and  consolations.  And  are  delighted  accord- 
ing as  we  find  such  desire  is  answered  unto  us. 

6.  The  form  of  expression  used  in  the  text,  implies  also 
a  stirring  up  ourselves  and  the  use  of  endeavours  with 
our  own  hearts,  to  foment,  heighten,  and  raise  our  own 
delight.  The  conjugation  (as  it  is  thought  fit  to  be  called) 
into  which  the  word  is  put,  importing,  by  a  peculiarity  of 
expressiveness  belonging  to  the  sacred  language,  action 
upon  one-self;  which  must  also  be  understood  to  have  the 
same  force,  in  reference  to  that  former  sense  of  delighting 
in  God;  that  is,  that  we  put  ourselves  upon  those  acts  and 
exercises  whereunlo such  deliglit  is  adjoined.  These  things 
are  now  more  cvirsorily  mentioned,  because  there  will  be 
occasion  more  at  large  to  insist  on  them  in  the  discourse 
cf  the  practice  of  this  duty,  reserved  to  the  Second  Part. 

2.  We  now  proceed  to  the  modification  of  this  delight 
in  God ;  or  the  right  manner  or  measure  of  it.  Concern- 
ing wliich  it  is  apparent  in  the  general,  it  can  be  no  fur- 
ther right  than  as  it  is  agreeable  to  its  object.  Tliat  our 
delight  should  ever  be  adequate,  or  of  a  measure  equal  to 
it,  is  plainly  impossible  ;  but  it  must  be  some  way  suitable, 
or  must  bear  proportion  to  it.  I  shall  here  mention  but 
two  (and  those  very  eminent)  respects  wherein  it  must  do 
so  ;  viz.  in  respect  of  the  excellency  and  the  permanency 
of  the  good  to  be  delighted  in. 

1.  The  excellency  of  it.  Inasmuch  as  it  is  the  best  and 
highest  good,  it  plainly  challenges  our  highest  delight. 
That  is,  the  highest  delight  simply,  which  our  natures  are 
capable  of,  is  most  apparently  due  to  the  blessed  God,  even 
by  the  law  of  nature  itself,  resulting  from  our  natures,  re- 
ferred unto  his.  And  as  the  case  stands  under  the  Gospel, 
the  highest  delight  comparatively,  i.  e.  higher  than  we  take 
in  any  thing  else  ;  nothing  must  be  so  much  delighted  in 
as  he.  We  do  not  otherwise  delight  in  him  as  God,  whicli 
is  one  way  of  glorifying  him.  And  'tis  part  of  the  apos- 
tle's charge  upon  the  pagan  world,  that  knowing  him  to 
be  God,  they  did  not  glorify  him  as  God. 

If  we  make  the  comparison  between  him  and  all  the 
good  things  of  this  world,  the  matter  is  out  of  question. 
It  is  the  sense  of  holy  souls.  Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but 
theel  and  whom  can  I  desire  on  earth  besides  thee  ^ii 
When  others  say,  Who  will  show  us  any  good  1  they  say, 
Lord,  lift  thou  up  the  light  of  thy  countenance.!  And 
thereby  he  puts  gladness  into  their  hearts,  more  than  when 


com  and  wine  increase.  And  whosoever  love  not  Christ 
more  than  father,  mother,  wife,  child  ;  yea,  and  their  own 
lives,  cannot  be  his  disciples.^  Their  present  worldly 
life,  if  put  in  the  balance,  he  must  outweigh. 

And  if  we  put  the  comparison  between  our  spiritual, 
eternal  life  and  him  ;  though  he  Eind  that  can  never  be  in 
opposition,  (as  there  may  be  often  an  opposition  between 
him  and  this  present  life,  so  that  the  one  is  often  quitted 
for  the  other,)  yet  neither  is  there  a  co-ordination,  but  the 
less  worthy  must  be  subordinate  to  ihe  more  worthy.  We 
are  to  desire  the  enjoyment  of  him  for  his  own  glory.  And 
yet  here  is  a  strange  and  admirable  complication  of  these 
with  one  another.  For  if  we  enjoj'  him,  delight  and  rest 
in  him  as  our  best  and  most  satisfying  good,  we  thereby 
glorify  him  as  God.  We  give  him  practically  highest  ac- 
knowledgments, we  confess  him  the  most  excellent  one. 
'Tis  his  glory  to  be  the  last  term  of  all  desires,  and  beyond 
which  no  reasonable  desire  can  go  further.  And  if  we 
seek  and  desire  his  glorj'  supremely,  sincerely,  and  really 
bevond  and  above  all  things  ;  when  he  is  so  glorified  to 
the  uttermo.st,  or  we  are  assured  he  will  be;  our  highest 
desire  is  so  far  satisfied,  and  that  turns  to,  or  is,  our  own 
contentment.  So  that  by  how  much  mere  simply  and  sin- 
cerely we  pass  from  and  go  out  of  ourselves,  so  much  the 
more  certainly  we  find  our  own  satisfaction,  rest,  and  full 
blessedness  in  him.  As  it  is  impossible  the  soul  that  loves 
him  above  itself,  can  be  fully  happy  while  he  hath  not  his 
full  glory ;  so  it  is  for  the  saine  reason  equally  impossible, 
but  it  mt!ist  be  so  when  he  hath. 

2.  Our  deliglit  must  be  suitable  to  the  object  (the  good 
to  be  delighted  in). 

In  respect  of  the  permanency  of  it,  this  is  the  most  du- 
rable and  la.sting  good.  In  this  blessed  object  therefore 
we  are  to  rejoice  evermore. i  As  in  the  matter  of  trust,  we 
are  required  to  trust  in  the  Lord  for  ever,  becau.se  in  the 
LordJchovah  is  everlasting  strength.'^ Everlasting  strength 
gives  sufficient  ground  for  everlasting  trust.  So  it  is  in 
the  matter  of  delight.  A  permanent,  everlasting  excellency 
is  not  answered,  but  by  a  continual  and  everlasting  delight. 
Therefore,  is  itmost  justly  said,  Rejoice  in  the  Lord  alway; 
and  again  I  say  unto  you  rejoice  ;■>  alway,  and  still  on.  If 
through  a  long  tract  of  time  you  have  been  constantly  al- 
way rejoicing  in  the  Lord,  begin  again,  I,  again,  say  to  you 
rejoice;  or  rather,  never  give  over.  The  object  will  war- 
rant an  I  justifv  the  act,  let  it  be  drawn  forth  to  never  so 
vast  a  length  "of  time.  You  will  still  find  a  continual 
spring,  unexhau.^ted  fulness,  a  fountain  never  to  be  drawn 
dry.  There  will  never  be  cause  of  diversion  with  this  pre- 
tence, that  now  this  object  will  yield  no  more ;  it  is  drain- 
ed to  the  uttermost,  and  is  now  become  an  empty  and 
gustless  thing.  With  other  things  it  maybe  so;  and  there- 
fore our  delight  doth  not  answer  the  natures  of  such  things, 
but  when  we  rejoice  in  them  as  if  we  rejoiced  not,"  they 
are  as  if  thcv  were  not.  All  the  things  of  this  world  are 
so.  For  even  the  fashion  of  this  world  pas^eth  away  ;P  as 
it  is  afterwards  added.  Therefore  no  delight  can  fitly  be 
taken  in  them,  but  what  is  volatile  and  unfixed  as  ihcy 
le.st  otherwise  it  overreach,  and  run  beyond  its  ob- 
And  how   absurd  and  vain  is  it  to  liave  our  hearts 


'  Paal.  Ixiii  .S,  6. 


Matt.  I.  37.    Luke  liv.  26. 


h  Peal  Ixxiii. 


i  Psal.  iv. 
!  1  TTk^.  1 


are  ; 
ject. 

set  upon  that  which  is  not,  that  talves  wrng,  and  leaves  us 
in  the  dirt!  This  object  of  delight  is  Ihe  "  I  am,  yesterday 
and  to-day  the  same,  and  for-ever;  without  variableness 
and  shadow  of  change."  Therefore  the  nature  of  it  can- 
not allow  us  a  reason;  wherefore,  if  we  be  delighted 
therein  yesterday,  we  should  not  to-day  ;  or  if  to-day,  why 
not  to-morrow,  "and  so  on  to  for  ever.  Whence  then  we 
may  see  no  one  can  sav  he  hath  answered  the  import  of 
this  exhortation,  "  delight  thyself  in  the  Lord,"  by  having 
delighted  in  him  at  some  time.  It  is  continual,  a-s  well  as 
highest,  delight  we  are  here  called  to.  We  see  then  thus 
far  what  we  are  called  to  when  we  are  here  directed  to  de- 
light ourselves  in  the  Lord.  . 

0.  We  are  next  to  show  how  we  are  called  to  it.  And 
the  matter  itself  will  answer  the  inquiry.  We  are  called 
to  if.  according  to  what,  in  itself,  it  is.  Now  it  is  both  a 
privilege  and  a  duty.  We  are  therefore  called  to  it,  ani 
accordingly  are  to  understand  the  words, 

1.  By  way  of  gracious  invitation  to  partake  of  a  pnv.. 

n  Pha.  iv.  4. 


378 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


Part  I. 


lege  which  our  blessed  Lord  would  have  us  share  and  be 
happy  in ;  no  longer  to  spend  ourselves  in  anxious  pur- 
suits and  vain  expectations  of  rest  where  it  is  not  to  be 
found  ;  but  that  we  retire  ourselves  to  him  in  whom  we 
shall  be  sure  to  find  it.  Pity  and  mercy  invite  here  to 
place  our  delight,  and  take  up  our  rest.  And  concerning 
this,  there  is  no  question  or  imaginable  doubt. 

2.  By  way  of  authoritativ^e  command.  For  we  must 
know,  that  delight  in  God  is  to  be  considered  not  only  un- 
der the  notion  of  a  privilege  unto  which  we  may  esteem 
ourselves  entitled  ;  but  also  of  a  duty  wherelo  we  are  most 
indispensably  obliged.  This  is  a  thing  (not  so  much  not 
understood,  as)  not  considered  and  seriously  thought  on, 
by  very  many;  and  the  not-considering  it  proves  no  small 
disadvantage  to  the  life  of  religion.  It  occurs  to  very 
many,  more  familiarly,  under  the  notion  of  a  high  favour, 
and  a  great  vouchsafement,  (as  indeed  it  is,)  that  God  will 
allow  any  of  the  sons  of  men  to  place  their  delights  in  him- 
self;  but  they  (at  least  seem  to)  think  it's  only  the  privi- 
lege of  some  special  favourites ;  of  whom,  because  they 
perhaps  are  conscious  they  have  no  cause  to  reckon  them- 
selves, they  are  therefore  secure  in  the  neglect  of  it.  And 
thus  is  the  pretence  of  modesty  and  humility  very  often 
made  an  umbrage  and  shelter  to  the  vile  carnality  of  many 
a  heart ;  and  a  want  of  fitness  is  pretended  and  cherished 
at  the  same  time,  as  an  excuse ;  that  whereas  they  do  not 
delight  in  God,  they  never  may  :  for  he  that  is  unfit  to-day, 
and  never  therewithal  applies  himself  with  seriousness  to 
the  endeavour  of  becoming  fit,  is  likely  to  be  more  unfit  to- 
morrow, and  so  be  as  much  excused  always  as  now ;  and 
by  the  same  means  at  length  excuse  himself  from  being 
happy ;  but  never  from  having  been  the  author  of  his  own 
miseiy.  But  what  is  it  indeed  no  duty  to  love  God  1  Is 
that  become  no  duty  which  is  the  very  sum  and  compre- 
hension of  all  duties  1  or  can  they  be  said  to  love  him,  that 
ta,ke  no  pleasure  in  him,  that  is,  to  love  him  without  loving 
himi  it  is  indeed  wonderful  grace  that  there  should  be 
6uch  a  contexture  of  our  happiness  and  duty;  that,  by  the 
same  thing  wherein  we  are  obedient,  we  also  become  im- 
mediately, in  the  same  degree,  blessed.  And  that  the  law 
of  God  in  this  case  hath  this  very  import,  an  obligation 
upon  us  to  blessedness.  But  in  the  meantime  we  should 
not  forget  that  God's  authority  and  honour  are  concerned 
herein,  as  it  is  our  duty;  as  well  as  our  own  happiness,  as 
it  is  our  privilege,  and  that  we  cannot  injure  ourselves  in 
this  matter  without  also  robbing  God. 

Delight  in  God  is  a  great  piece  of  homage  to  him,  a 
practical  acknowledgment  of  his  sovereign  excellency,  and 
perfect  all-comprehending  goodness.  When  we  retire  from 
all  the  world  to  him,  we  confess  him  better  than  all  things 
besides;  that  wc  have  none  in  heaven  or  earth  that  we 
esteem  worthy  to  be  compared  with  him.  But  when  our 
hearts  are  averse  to  him,  and  will  not  be  brought  to  de- 
light in  him,  since  there  is  somewhat  in  the  meanwhile 
wherein  we  do  delight,  we  do  as  much  as  say  (yea,  we 
more  significantly  express  it  than  by  saying)  that  whatever 
that  is,  'tis  better  than  he;  yea,  that  such  a  thing  is  good, 
and  he  is  not.  For  as  not  believing  him  as  a  denial  of  his 
truth,  the  making  him  a  liar;  not  delighting  in  him  is 
equally  a  denial  of  his  goodness,  and  consequently  even 
of  his  Godhead  itself  And  since  we  find  the  words  are 
here  laid  down  plainly  in  a  perceptive  form;  "  delight  thj'-- 
^self  in  the  Lord;"  can  any  think  themselves,  after  this,  a. 
liberty  to  do  so  or  not  ]  'Tis  true  that  they  who  are  in  no 
disposition  hereto  have  somewhat  else  to  do  in  order  to 
that;  (of  which  hereafter  ;)  but,  in  the  meantime,  how  for- 
lorn is  their  ci.se,  who  have  nothing  to  excuse  their  sin  by, 
but  sin;  and  'fho,  instead  of  extenuating  their  guilt,  do 
double  it !  Yea,  and  we  are  further  to  consider,  that  it  is 
not  only  commanded,  by  a  mere  simple  precept,  but  that 
this  precept  hath  its  solenm  sanction  ;  and  that  not  only  by 
promise  here  expressly  annexed,  (of  which  hereafter,)  but 
also  of  implied  threatening;  that  we  shall  not  else  have 
the  desires  of  our  hearts,  but  be  necessarily  unsatisfied, 
and  miserable ;  which  is  also  in  many  other  places  ex- 
pressed plainly  enough.  Great  penalty  is  due  upon  not 
delighting  in  God,  even  by  the  gospel  'constitution  itself; 
which  is  not  so  unreasonably  formed  as  to  require  more  in 
this  matter,  than  is  suitable  to  the  object  itself;  and  is 
q  Heb.  x  S9.  r  1  Cor.  xn.  22. 


framed  so  indulgently  as  to  accept  much  less  than  is  pro 
portionable  thereto;  and  yet  within  the  capacity  also  of  a 
reasonable  soul.  So  that,  though  the  very  nature  of  the 
thing  doth  plainly  dictate  a  rule,  by  which  this  matter  is 
to  be  estimated  and  judged  ;  yet  this  other  rule  gives  con- 
siderable abatement  and  allowance.  That  is,  it  being  con- 
sidered what  the  object  claims  and  challenges,  as  by  its  own 
proper  excellency  due  to  it ;  and  what  the  subject  is,  by  its 
own  nature,  capable  of;  not  only  doth  it  hence  appear, 
that  delight  in  God  is  a  duty,  but  that  the  soul  ought  to 
rise  to  that  highest  pitch  of  delight  in  him,  i.  e.  unto  the 
highest  the  soul  is  naturally  capable  of  The  very  law  of 
nature,  resulting  from  the  reference  and  comparison  of 
our  nature  unto  God's  own,  requires  so  much ;  that  we 
love,  or  delight,  in  him  with  all  our  heart,  with  all  our 
mind,  with  all  our  might,  and  with  all  our  strength.  He 
deserves  from  us  our  very  uttermost.  Yet  this  is  by  the 
gospel-constitution  required  with  indulgence  and  abate- 
ment, not  as  to  the  matter  required,  but  as  to  the  manner  of 
requiring  it.  The  matter  required  is  still  the  same,  so  as 
that  the  purest  and  highest  delight  in  God  doth  not  cease 
to  be  a  duty,  or  any  gradual  defect  thereof  cease  to  be  a 
sin.  The  Gospel  doth  make  no  change  of  the  natures  of 
things ;  makes  nothing  cease  to  be  due  to  God  from  us, 
which  the  law  of  nature  made  due ;  nor  renders  any  defect 
innocent,  which  is  in  its  own  nature  culpable  and  faulty. 
Therefore  the  same  pitch  of  delight  in  God  is  still  due  and 
required  that  ever  was  ;  but  that  perfection  is  not  (finally 
and  without  relief)  required  in  the  same  manner  and  on 
the  same  terms  it  was ;  that  is,  it  is  not  by  the  Gospel  re- 
quired under  remediless  penalty,  as  it  was.  For  the  law 
of  nature  (though  it  made  not  a  remedy  simply  impossi- 
ble yet,  it)  provided  none,  but  the  Gospel  provides  one. 

Yet  not  so  but  the  same  penalty  also  remains  in  itself 
due  and  deserved,  which  was  before.  For  as  the  Gospel 
takes  not  away  the  dueness  of  any  part  or  degree  of  that 
obedience  which  we  did  owe  to  God  naturally,  so  nor  doth 
it  take  away  the  natural  dueness  of  punishment,  for  dis- 
obedience in  any  kind  or  degree  of  it.  Only  it  provides 
that  (upon  the  very  valuable  consideration  which  it  makes 
known)  it  becomes  to  us  a  remissible  debt,  and  actually 
remitted  to  them  who  come  up  to  the  terms  of  it.  Not 
that  it  should  be  in  itself  no  debt,  for  then  nothing  were 
remitted  ;  nor  yet,  when  it  50  provides  for  the  remission 
of  defects  in  this  part  of  our  duty,  doth  it  remit  the  sub- 
stance of  the  duty  itself,  or  pardon  any  defects  of  it  to  any 
but  such  who  are  found  sincere  in  this,  as  well  as  the  other 
parts  of  that  obedience  which  we  owe.  Others,  who  after 
so  gracious  overtures,  remain  at  their  former  distance,  and 
retain  their  aversion,  enmity,  and  disaffection  to  God,  it 
more  grievously  (and  most  justly)  threatens  and  punishes 
as  implacable ;  and  who  will  upon  no  terms  return  into  a 
state  of  friendship  and  amity  with  their  Maker,  whom 
they  hated  without  cause,  and  do  now  continue  strangers 
and  enemies  to  him  without  excuse ;  so  that  the  very  blood 
of  the  reconciling  sacrifice  cries  against  them.'' 

And  surely  since  (as  was  formerly  said)  it  is  God  in 
Christ  that  is  the  entire  object  of  this  delight  or  love,  'tis 
a  fearful  penalty  that  is  determined  upon  them  that  do  not 
so  place  it;  when  it  is  said.  If  any  man  love  not  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ, let  him  be  Anathema  Maran-atha."'  And  when 
also  it  is  said,  Grace  be  upon  all  them  that  do,^  it  is  plainly 
implied,  that  the  penally  belongs  to  all  them  that  do  not 
love  him  in  sincerity.  Of  which  sincerity  therefore  of  de- 
light in  God,  (to  keep  within  the  compass  of  our  present 
theme,)  it  is  necessary  we  be  well  informed  ;  as  we  maybe 
from  what  hath  been  said  before ;  that  is — 1.  That  we  de- 
light in  him  supremely,  and  above  all  things  else,  I'iz.  with 
our  highest  and  deepest  complacency  of  will.  For  it  is 
not  necessary  (nor  ordinarily  possible)  that  our  delight  in 
him  should  be  ever  accompanied  with  such  sensible  agita- 
tion of  the  corporeal  spirits,  as  we  find  in  reference  to 
merely  sensible  objects.  Which  is  not  essential  to  such 
delight,  but  an  accident  that  follows  union  with  the  body; 
and  more  frequently,  and  to  a  greater  degree,  in  some  tem- 
pers of  body  than  others.  But  it  is  necessary  there  be  that 
practical  estimation  of  him,  and  propension  towards  him, 
as  the  best  and  most  excellent  good ;  as  that  we  be  in  a 
preparation  of  mind  and  heart  to  forego  whatever  can  come 

s  Eph.  vi.  24. 


Part  II. 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


37^ 


into  any  competition  -with  him  for  his  sake.  That  though 
we  do  not  thus  delight  in  him  so  much  a-s  we  should,  j'et 
we  do  more  than  in  any  thing  else. — 2.  That  we  continue 
herein  :  that  this  be  the  constant  habitual  temper  of  our 
spirits  towards  him  :  that  we  cleave  to  him  with  purpose 
of  heart,  as  not  only  the  most  excellent,  but  the  most  per- 
manent, object  of  our  delight:  having  settled  the  resolu- 
tion with  ourselves,  "  This  God  shall  be  our  God  for  ever 
and  ever ;  he  shall  be  our  God  and  guide  even  to  the 
death."  t  And  that  there  be  frequent  actual  workings  of 
heart  towards  him,  agreeable  to  such  a  temper,  though 
they  are  not  so  frequent  a?  they  ought.  Which  account 
we  give  of  this  sincerity  of  delight  in  God,  not  to  encou- 
rage any  to  take  up  with  the  lowest  degree  of  that  sinceri- 
ty ;  but  that  none  may  be  encouraged,  upon  their  own  mis- 
take in  this  matter,  to  take  up  with  any  thing  short  of  it ; 
and  that  we  may  see  whence  to  take  our  rise  in  aiming  at 
the  highest  pitch  thereof.  And  that  we  may  (understand- 
ing the  highest  intenseness  and  most  constant  exercise  of 
delight  in  God  that  our  natures  are  capable  of,  to  be  our 
duty)  understand  also,  that  in  reference  to  our  gradual  de- 
fects and  intermissions  herein,  we  ought  to  be  deeply 


humbled,  as  being  faulty;  not  unconcerned,  as  though  we 
were  innocent  in  this  regard  ;  that  we  need  continual  par- 
don upon  these  accounts  ; — that  we  owe  it  to  the  blood  of 
the  Redeemer,  that  such  things  can  he  pardoned ; — that 
we  are  not  to  reckon,  or  ever  to  expect,  that  blood  should 
stand  us  instead,  to  obtain  our  pardon  for  never  delighting 
in  God  sincerely  at  all ;  but  only  (supposing  we  do  it  sin- 
cerely) that  we  do  it  not  perfectly.  For  most  certainly, 
they  whose  hearts  are  never  turned  to  him  as  their  best 
and  mo.st  sovereign  good  or  portion,  and  Ruler  or  Lord ; 
but  do  still  remain  alienated  in  their  minds,  and  enemies 
through  wicked  works,  will  perish  notwithstanding.  And 
that  we  might  the  more  distinctly,  together  with  the  appre- 
hension of  what  we  are  called  to  in  this  matter,  under- 
stand also  how  we  are  called  to,  i.  e.  not  by  an  invitation 
only,  that  leaves  us  at  liberty  whether  we  will  or  will  not, 
as  we  think  fit ;  but  by  express  command,  and  that  also 
backed  with  the  severe  determination  of  most  dreadful 
penalty  in  case  of  omission.  And  thus  we  have  in  some 
measure  shown  the  import  of  the  direction  in  the  text,— 
that  we  delight  ourselves  in  the  Lord. 


OF 


DELIGHTING  IN   GOD: 

FROM  PSALM  XXXVII.  4- 

DELIGHT  THYSELF  ALSO  IN  THE  LORD,  AND  HE  SHALL  GIVE  THEE  THE  DESIRES  OF  THINE  HEART 

PART  II. 

CONCERNING  THE  PRACTICE  OF  DELIGHT  IN  GOD, 


We  have  in  the  former  Part  extended  the  meaning  of 
the  words,  "  Delight  thyself  in  the  Lord,"  beyond  what 
they  seem  at  first  sight  literally  to  signify:  so  as  not  to 
understand  them  merely  as  requiring  that  very  single  act 
of  delight  to  be  immediately  and  directly  terminated  on 
God  himself;  but  to  take  them  as  comprehending  also  the 
sura  of  all  holy  and  religious  converse  with  God,  i.  e.  as 
it  is  delightful,  or  as  it  is  seasoned  (intermingled,  and  as 
it  were  besprinkled)  with  delight;  aiid  upon  the  same  ac- 
count, of  all  our  other  converse,  so  far  as  it  is  influenced 
by  religion.  And  I  doubt  not,  to  such  as  shall  attentively 
have  considered  what  hath  been  said,  it  will  be  thought 
very  reasonable  to  take  them  in  that  latitude ;  whereof  the 
very  letter  of  the  text  (as  maybe  alleged  for  further  jusli- 
fication  hereof)  is  most  fitly  capable.  For  (as  was  noted 
upon  another  text  where  we  have  the  same  phrase)  the 
particle  which  we  read  in  the  Lord,  hath  not  that  signifi- 
cation alone,  but  signifies  also  with,  or  bij,  or  besides,  or 
before,  or  in  presence  of ;  as  if  it  had  been  said,  "Come 
and  sit  down  with  God,  retire  thyself  to  him,  and  solace 
thyself  in  the  delights  which  are  to  be  found  in  his  pre- 
sence and  converse,  in  walking  with  him,  and  transacting 
thy  course  as  before  him,  and  in  his  sight."  As  a  man 
may  be  said  to  delight  himself  with  a  friend  that  puts  him- 
self under  his  roof;  and  besides  personal  converse  with 
himself,  freely  enjoys  the  pleasure  of  all  the  entertain- 
ments, accommodations,  and  provisions  which  he  is  Ireely 
willing  to  communicate  with  him,  and  hath  the  satisfac- 
tion which  a  sober  person  would  take  in  observing  the 
rules  and  order  of  a  well-governed  house, 
t  Pi.  avm. 


According  to  this  diverse  import  of  the  precept  enjoin- 
ing this  duty,  it  will  be  requisite  to  speak  diversel}'  of  the 
practice  of  "the  duty  itself:  that  is,  that  we  treat  of  the 
practice  and  exercise  of  delight ; — As  a  thing  adherent  to 
the  other  duties  of  religion ; — 2.  As  it  is  a  distinct  dut}'  of 
itself. 

1.  As  to  the  former,  our  business  -will  "be  to  treat  of  the 
exercise  of  religion  as  delightful.  Now  religion  is  de- 
lightful naturally  and  in  iiself ;  and  makes  a  man's  other 
actions,  even  that  are  not  in  themselves  acts  of  religion, 
delightful  also,  so  far  as  they  are  governed  and  influenced 
by  it ;  if  that  religion  be  true,  i.  e.  if  it  be  living,  saich  as 
proceeds  from  a  principle  of  divine  life.  Being  therefore 
now  to  treat  of  the  practice  of  this  dut%*,  (whereof  the  ac- 
count hath  heen  already  given.)  our  discourse  must  aim 
at  and  endeavour  these  two  things,  the  former  as  leading 
and  subservient  to  the  latter  ; — r/r.  1.  That  we  may  not 
take  up  and  rest,  or  let  our  practice  terminate,  in  a  reli- 
gion which  is  not  naturally  and  in  itself  delightful ; — 2. 
That  we  seek  after  and  improve  in  that  which  is. 

1.  That  -which  is  not  so  we  have  great  reason  not  to  ac- 
quiesce in,  or  be  contented  with,  for  it  is  plainly'  such  as 
will  not  defray  itself,  or  bear  its  own  charges,  as  having 
onlv  cumber  and  burden  in  it,  no  use  or  end;  I  mean  the 
dead  formality  of  religion  only.  We  find  it  natural  and 
pleasant  to  carry  about  with  us  our  own  living  body :  but 
who  would  endure  (how  wearisome  and  loathsome  a  task 
were  it  I)  to  lug  to  and  fro  a  dead  carcass  1  It  will  be  upon 
this  account  needful  to  insist  in  showing  more  distinctly, 
what  sort  of    religion  it  is,  that  is  in  itseli"  whollv  unde- 


380 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


Part  II, 


lightful,  and  propound  some  things  to  consideration  con- 
cerning it,  chat  may  tend  to  beget  a  dislike  of  it,  and  so 
incline  us  to  look  further. 

1.  That  we  may  know  what  we  are  not  to  take  up  with; 
because  our  present  subject  confines  us  to  this  one  measure 
of  religion,  that  it  be  delightful,  it  will  be  proper  to  limit 
our  discourse  to  this  character  only  of  the  religion  we  are 
to  pass  from  as  vain  and  worthless,  viz.  that  which  is  with- 
out delierht ;  which  it  also  will  be  sufficient  to  insist  on  to 
our  present  purpose.  For  since  (as  hath  been  largely 
shown)  the  delightfulness  of  the  religion  which  is  true 
and  living,  is  intrinsical,  and  most  natural  to  it,  'twill 
therefore  be  certainly  consequent,  that  which  is  not  de- 
lightful is  dead,  and  can  sexve  for  nothing. 

And  yet  here  ic  will  be  necessary,  for  caution  to  in- 
sert, 

1.  That  even  such  religion  as  is  true  and  living,  and 
consequently  in  itself  delightful,  yet  may  by  accident 
sometimes  not  appear  or  be  thought  so;  because  either 
variety  of  occasions  may  divert  from  minding,  or  some 
imbittering  distemper  of  spirit  may  hinder,  the  present 
relishing,  of  that  pleasure  which  is  truly  in  it.  As  a  man 
may  eat  and  feed  on  that  which  is  very  savoury  and  good ; 
and  yet,  though  his  taste  be  not  vitiated,  but  because  he 
reflects  not,  may  not  every  moment  have  that  present  ap- 
prehension that  it  is  so  ;  much  more  if  the  organs  of  taste 
be  imder  a  present  distemper.  But,  if  they  be  not  so,  any 
one's  asking  him  how  he  likes  that  dish,  (because  that 
occasions  a  more  express  animadversion,)  will  also  draw 
from  him  an  acknowledgment  that  it  is  pleasant  and 
savoury. 

2,  That  a  dead  religion  maybe  thought  delightful ;  and 
through  the  ill  temper  of  the  subject,  a  pleasure  may  be 
apprehended  in  it,  which  doth  not  naturally  arise  from  it; 
that  is,  the  mere  external  part  of  religion  may  be  flexible, 
and  be  accidentally  perverted  into  a  subserviency  to  some 
purposes  which  religion  of  itself  intends  not,  in  respect 
whereof  a  delight  may  injuriously  (and  as  by  a  rape)  be 
taken  in  it,  as  is  said  by  the  prophet  of  a  hypocritical  peo- 
ple :  Yet  they  seek  me  daily,  and  delight  to  know  my 
ways,  as  a  nation  that  did  righteousness ;  they  take  de- 
light in  approaching  to  God.  "  Therefore  that  which  is 
here  intended,  is  not,  that  the  religion  should  be  rejected, 
in  some  present  exercises  whereof  we  have  not  the  actual 
relish  of  a  present  pleasure ;  (as  that  should  not  be  em- 
braced, wherein  upon  any  whatsoever  terms  we  find  it;) 
but  that  which  can  rightfully,  and  upon  just  terms,  afford 
us  none ;  and  which  upon  our  utmost  inquiry  and  search, 
cannot  in  reason  (as  it  is  not  unfit  that  spiritual  reason 
should  be  employed  in  making  a  judgment  what  may) 
be  thought  spiritually  delectable.  We  shall  therefore,  in 
some  particular  heads,  give  a  short  account  of  such  reli- 
gion, as  rationally  cannot  but  be  judged  undelightfiil,  or 
which  hath  not  that  in  it  which  can  yield  pleasure  to  a 
sound  and  well-complexioned  spirit;  but  that  if  any  be 
taken  therein,  that  very  pleasure  is  so  unnatural  and  out 
of  kind,  as  to  be  the  argument  rather  of  a  disease  in  the 
jsubject,  than  of  any  real  goodness  in  the  thing  itself. 

Whereunto  we  only  premise  this  twofold  general  rule, 
whereby  an  undue  and  unnatural  delight  may  be  estimated 
and  judged  of 

1.  That  such  delight  may  be  justly  deemed  unnatural 
which  is  taken  in  any  thing  besides  and  with  the  neglect 
of  the  proper  use  and  end  which  it  most  fitly  serves  for. 

2.  Such  as  is  accompanied  with  a  real  hurt,  greater  than 
the  delight  can  countervail,  or  as  is  so  far  from  taking  in 
profit  and  benefit  in  conjunction  with  it,  as  that  the  damage 
and  prejudice  which  it  cannot  recompense,  is  inseparable 
from  it ;  which  rules  wnll  be  the  more  fitly  applicable  to 
the  present  case;  for  that  (as  hath  been  formerly  observed) 
the  delight  which  accompanies  the  acts  and  exercises  of 
religion,  or  that  flow  from  it,  (though  it  be  natural  there- 
to,) yet  is  not  the  only  or  chief  end  of  those  acts;  but  they 
have  another  more  important  end,  unto  the  prosecution 
whereof  by  such  acts  delight  is  only  adherent  •  whence 
the  delight  cannot  but  be  most  preposterous  and  perverse, 
which  is  taken  in  such  things  as  do  either  not  serve  the 
more  principal  design  of  religion  ;  or  much  mor^  rhat  are 
repugnant  and  destructive  of  it.     By  these  rules  we  may 

a  ba.  Iviii.  2.  b  1  Tim.  vi.  3. 


plainly  see  what  delight  in  the  general  is  to  be  accounted 
undue.  As  by  the  former  rule  we  would  justly  reckon 
that  an  undue  delight  which  a  man  should  take  in  food, 
if  he  only  please  himself  with  the  looking  on  the  hand  ■ 
some  garnishing  of  the  dishes,  which  he  loaths  in  the 
meantime  and  refuses  to  taste,  or  which  a  covetous  miser 
takes  in  having  wealth  hoarded  up,  which  he  is  pleased 
often  to  view  and  cannot  endure  to  use.  And  by  the  latter, 
that  were  most  irrational  delight,  w^hich  in  a  fever  one 
should  take  in  gratifying  his  distempered  appetite,  where- 
by he  doth  not  so  much  relieve  nature  as  feed  his  disease. 
And  so  we  may  say,  that  religion  is  undelightful,  i.  e. 
not  duly  delightful, 

1.  Which  consists  wholly  in  revolving  in  one's  own 
mind  the  notions  that  belong  to  religion,  without  either 
the  experience  or  the  design  and  expectation  of  having  the 
heart  and  conversation  formed  according  to  them.  So  the 
case  is  with  such  as  content  themselves  to  yield  the  prin- 
ciples of  religion  true,  and  behold  with  a  notional  assent 
and  approbation  the  connexion  and  agreement  of  one  thing 
with  another ;  but  do  never  consider  the  tendency  and 
aim  of  the  whole;  or  that  the  truth  of  the  gospel  is  the 
doctrine  that  is  according  to  godliness ;  b  or  such  as  is 
pursuant  to  the  design  of  making  men  godly ;  of  trans- 
forming them  into  the  image  of  God,  and  framing  them 
to  an  entire  subjection  to  his  holy  and  acceptable  will; 
that  bethink  not  themselves  the  truth  is  never  learned  as 
it  is  in  Jesus,  except  it  be  lo  the  renewing  the  spirit  of  the 
mind,  the  putting  oflf  the  old  man,  and  the  putting  on  of 
the  new.c  When  this  is  never  considered,  but  men  do 
only  know,  that  they  may  know;  and  are  never  concerned 
further  about  the  great  things  of  God,  than  only  to  take 
notice  that  such  things  there  are  offered  to  their  view  which 
carry  with  them  the  appearance  of  truth,  but  mind  them 
no  more  than  the  affairs  of  Eutopia,  or  the  world  in  the 
moon ;  what  delight  is  taken  in  this  knowledge  is  surely 
most  perverse.  There  is  a  pleasure  indeed  in  knowing 
things,  and  in  apprehending  the  coherence  of  one  truth 
with  another  ;  but  he  that  shall  allow  himself  to  speculate 
only  about  things  wherein  his  life  is  concerned,  and  shall 
entertain  himself  with  delight  in  agitating  in  his  mind 
certain  curious  general  notions  concerning  a  disease  or  a 
crime  that  threatens  him  with  present  death,  or  what  might 
be  a  remedy  or  defence  in  such  a  case,  without  any  thought 
of  applying  such  things  to  his  own  case,  or  that  the  case 
is  his  own,  one  may  say  of  such  pleasure.  It  is  mad  ;  or  of 
this  delight.  What  doth  it  1  Or  he  that  only  surfeits  his 
eye  with  beholding  the  food  he  is  to  live  by,  and  who  in 
the  meantime  languishes  in  the  want  of  appetite,  and  a 
sickly  loathing  of  his  proper  nutriment ;  surely  such  a  one 
hath  a  pleasure  that  no  sober  man  would  think  worth  the 
having. 

And  the  more  any  one  doth  only  notionally  know  in  the 
matters  of  religion,  so  as  that  the  temper  of  his  spirit  re- 
mains altogether  unsuitable  and  opposite  to  the  design  and 
tendency  of  the  things  known,  the  more  he  hath  lying 
ready  to  come  in  judgment  against  him  ;  and  if  therefore 
he  count  the  things  excellent  which  he  knows,  and  only 
please  himself  with  his  own  knowledge  of  them,  'tis  but 
a  like  case  as  if  a  man  should  be  much  delighted  to  be- 
hold his  own  condemnation  written  in  a  fair  and  beautiful 
hand;  or,  as  if  one  should  be  pleased  with  the  glittering 
of  that  sword  which  is  directed  against  his  own  heart,  and 
must  be  the  present  instrument  of  death  to  him  :  and  so 
little  pleasant  is  the  case  of  such  a  person  in  itself,  who 
thus  satisfies  his  own  curiosity,  with  the  concernments  of 
eternal  life  and  death,  that  any  serious  person  would 
tremble  on  his  behalf,  at  that  wherein  he  takes  pleasure, 
and  apprehend  just  horror  in  that  state  of  the  case  whence 
he  draws  matter  of  delight. 

2.  'Tis  yet  a  more  insipid  and  gustless  religion  which 
too  many  place  in  some  peculiar  opinions,  that  are  either 
false,  and  contrary  to  religion,  or  doubtful,  and  cumber- 
some to  it,  or  little  and  inconsiderable,  and  therefore  cer- 
tainly alien  to  it,  and  impertinent.  For  if  that  religion  only 
be  truly  delightful  which  hath  a  vital  influence  on  the  heart 
and  practice,  as  that  must  needs  be  indelectable,  which  is 
only  so  notionally  conversant  about  the  greatest  truths,  as 
that  it  hath  no  such  influence ;  much  more  is  that  so,  which 

c  Eph.  iv. 


Part  II. 


OF  DEIJGIITING  IN  GOD. 


381 


is  so  wholly  conversant  about  matters  either  opposite  or 
irrelative  hereto,  as  that  it  can  have  none.  It  must  here 
be  acknowledi^ed  that  some  doctrmes,  not  only  not  reveal- 
ed in  the  word  of  God,  but  which  are  contrary  thereto, 
may  (being-  thought  true)  occasion  the  excitation  of  some 
inward  atleclion,  and  have  an  indirect  influence  to  the  re- 
gulating of  practice  also,  so  as  to  repress  some  grosser 
enormities:  as  the  false  notions  of  pagans  concerning  the 
Deity,  which  have  led  them  to  idolatry,  have  struck  their 
minds  with  a  certain  kind  of  reverence  of  invisible  pow- 
ers, and  perhaps  rendered  .some  more  sober  and  less  vi- 
cious than  had  they  been  destitute  of  all  religious  senti- 
ments. And  yet  the  good  which  hath  hence  ensued,  is  not 
to  be  referred  to  the  particular  principles  of  idolatry,  which 
were  false;  but  the  more  general  principles  of  religion, 
which  were  true.  Yea,  and  though  such  false  principles 
viewed  alone,  and  by  themselves,  may  possibly  infer  some- 
what of  good;  yet  that  is  by  accident  only,  and  through 
the  short-sightedness  and  ignorance  of  them  with  whom 
they  obtain";  who,  if  they  did  consider  their  incoherence 
with  other  common  notions  and  principles  most  certainly 
true,  would  receive  by  them  (if  thought  the  only  princi- 
ples of  religion)  .so  much  the  greater  hurt,  and  become  so 
much  the  more  hopelessly  and  incurably  wicked.  As 
most  manifestly  the  principles  which  (looked  upon  by 
themselves)  wliile  they  are  reckoned  true,  do  lead  to  idol- 
atry, and  consequently,  by  that  mistake  only,  to  some  re- 
ligion ;  do  yet,  being  really  false,  lead  to  atheism,  and  of 
themselves  tend  to  subvert  and  destroy  all  religion. 
Therefore  such  doctrines  as  cohere  not  with  the  general 
frame  of  truth,  whatever  their  particular  aspect  may  be, 
considered  apart  and  by  themselves,  are  yet  in  their  natu- 
ral tendency  opposite  and  destructive  to  the  true  design  of 
religion,  and  the  pleasure  which  they  can  any  way  atford, 
is  only  stolen  and  vain ;  such  as  a  person  takes  in  swal- 
lowmg  a  potion  that  is  pleasant,  but  which,  if  it  perforin 
what  belongs  to  it,  he  must  with  many  a  sickly  qualm  re- 
fund and  disgorge  back  again. 

We  also  acknowledge  some  truths  of  less  importance 
may  be  said  to  concern  practice,  though  not  so  immediately. 
Nor  is  it  therefore  the  design  of  this  discourse  to  derogate 
from  any  such,  that  are  of  apparently  divine  revelation  or 
in.stitution ;  which,  however  they  justly  be  reckoned  less 
than  some  other  things,  yet  for  that  very  reason  as  they 
are  revealed  by  God  for  such  an  end,  are  by  no  means  to 
be  esteemed  little,  or  inconsiderable ;  be  their  subserviency 
to  the  great  design  of  religion  never  so  remote.  Upon  the 
account  of  which  subserviency,  they  are  also  to  be  esteem- 
ed delectable,  that  is,  in  proportion  thereto;  but  when 
they  are  so  esteemed  beyond  that  proportion,  and  are  ex- 
alted into  an  undue  preference  to  their  very  end  itself;  so 
as  that,  in  comparison  of  them,  the  great  things  of  religion 
are  reckoned  low,  frigid,  sapless  things;  when  men  set 
heir  hearts  upon  thein  abstractly,  and  without  considera- 

on  of  their  reference  and  usefulness  to  the  greater  things 
'.  f  religion ;  the  delight  that  is  so  taken  in  them,  argues  but 
the  disease  of  the  mind  that  lakes  it,  and  so  great  a  degree 
of  dotage,  that  a  serious  person  would  wonder  how  men  can 
please  themselves  with  such  matters,  without  considering, 
and  with  the  neg-'ect  of  so  great  things  the}'  have  relation  to. 
3.  And  hither  is  to  be  referred  the  much  less  rational 
pleasure  which  is  taken  by  some  in  the  mere  dress  where- 
with such  notions  and  opinions  may  be  artificially  clothed 
by  themselves  or  others  ;  rhetorical  flourishes,  a  set  of  fine 
words,  hand,some  cadences  and  periods,  fanciful  represen- 
tations, little  tricks  and  pieces  of  wit,  and  (which  cannot 
pretend  so  high)  pitiful  quibbles  and  gingles,  inversions  of 
sentences,  the  pedantic  rhyming  of  words,  yea,  and  an  af- 
fected tone,  or  even  a  great  noise,  things  that  are  neither 
capable  of  gratifying  the  Christian  nor  the  man  ;  without 
which  even  the  most  important  weighty  matters  do  to  so 
squeamish  stomachs  seem  guslless  and  unsavoury,  and  are 
reckoned  dull  and  flat  things.  And  most  plain  it  i.s,  (though 
it  is  not  strange,  that  so  trifling  minds  should  impose  upon 
themselves  by  so  thin  a  sophism,)  that  such  are  in  a  great 
mistake,  whose  delight  being  wholly  taken  up  in  these 
trifles,  do  hereupon  think  they  ta^te  the  delights  of  religion  ; 
for  these  are  nothing  of  it,  are  found  about  it  only  acciden- 

ally  ;  and  by  a  most  happy  accident  too,  as  ill  (for  the  most 
d  Mai.  iii.  e  Jam.  i. 


of  these  things)  agreeing  to  it  and  no  more  becoming  it  than 
a  fool's  coat  doth  a  prudent  grave  person ;  and  the  best  of 
them  agreeing  to  it  but  in  ccmimon  with  any  thing  else, 
about  which  such  arts  may  be  used ;  so  that  they  are  no 
way  any  thing  of  it,  or  more  peculiarly  belonging  to  it,  than 
to  any  theme  or  subject  besides,  unto  which  such  ornar- 
ments  (as  they  are  thought)  can  be  added.  How  misera- 
bly therefore  do  they  cheat  themselves,  who,  because  they 
hear  with  pleasure  a  discourse  upon  some  head  of  religion 
thus  garnished,  according  to  their  idle  trifling  humour; 
and  because  they  are  taken  with  the  contrivance  of  some 
sentences,  or  affected  with  tlie  loudness  of  the  voice,  or 
have  their  imagination  tickled  with  some  fantastical  illus- 
trations; present!}' conclude  themselves  to  be  in  a  religious 
transport,  when  the  things  that  have  pleased  them  have  no 
aflinity  or  alliance  with  religion,  befall  to  it  but  by  chance, 
and  are  in  themselves  things  quite  of  another  country  ! 

4.  Of  the  like  strain  is  the  religion  that  is  made  up  all 
of  talk.  And  such  like  are  that  sort  of  persons,  who  love 
to  discourse  of  those  great  things  of  God  wherewith  it  was 
never  their  design  or  aim  to  have  their  hearts  stamped,  or 
their  lives  commanded  and  governed;  who  invert  that 
which  was  the  ancient  glory  of  the  Christian  church,  "We 
do  not  speak  great  things,  but  live  them."  And  are  pleas- 
ed with  only  the  noise  of  their  own  (most  commonly  insig- 
nificant senseless)  words;  unto  whom  how  ungrateful  a 
relish  would  that  precept  have,  "  Be  swift  to  hear,  slow  to 
S])eak  !"  And  how  much  to  be  regretted  a  thing  is  it,  that 
the  delights  of  practical  living  religion  should  be  so  lost, 
and  vanish  into  a  mere  lip-labour!  Things  of  this  nature 
are  to  be  estimated  by  their  end,  and  the  temper  of  spirit 
which  accompanies  them  ;  vhich  unto  a  serious  and  pru- 
dent observer,  are  commonly  very  discernible  and  ea.'-y  to 
be  distinguished.  It's  an  amiable,  lovely  thing  to  behold 
those  that  are  intent  upon  the  great  business  of  religion 
themselves,  provoking  others  also  with  serious  gravity 
unto  love  and  good  works.  And  it  will  ever  stand  as  a 
monumental  character  of  them  that  feared  the  Lord,  that 
they  spake  oflen  one  to  anotherd  upon  this  account.  But 
the  pretence  of  this  is  odious,  when  the  thing  designed  is 
nothing  but  self-recommendation,  and  the  spirit  of  the 
pretenders  is  visibl}'  vain  and  empty  :  and  when  it  is  ap- 
parent they  take  delight,  not  in  the  things  they  speak  of, 
but  only  in  this  thing  itself,  .'^peaking  much.  No  breath 
is  then  more  fulsome;  and  the  better  the  things  are,  the 
worse  it  is  to  have  no  more  savour  of  them. 

5.  Again,  the  religion  is  akin  to  this  which  stands  all 
in  hearing.  It  is  as  remote  (at  least)  from  the  heart,  when 
it  is  wholly  placed  in  the  ear,  as  when  it's  all  in  the  tongue. 
As  it  is  with  them  that  are  hearers  only,  not  doers  of  the 
word,  deceiving  their  own  souls. ^  When  the  preacher  is 
to  them  as  a  very  lovely  song,  of  one  that  can  play  well  on 
an  instrument,  and  they  hear  his  words,  but  do  them  not.f 
And  it  is  natural  to  the  same  sort  of  persons  to  be  pleased 
indifferently  with  either  of  these,  as  the  Athenians  were  in 
hearing  or  telling  some  new  thing.  Only  that  this  difler- 
ence  most  commonly  appears  with  the  persons  we  intend, 
that  when  the  things  they  delight  to  hear  must  be  ever 
new,  or  at  least  new  dressed,  the  things  they  speak  shall 
be  everlastingly  the  same.  How  perverse  a  delight  is  that ! 
Whereas 'tis  the  glory  of  substantial  religion,  that  the  prin- 
cipal things  of  it  can  never  grow  old  or  be  dry.  Their 
ears  shallitch  after  novelties;  a  plain  argument  that  it  is 
not  religion  itself  that  pleases  them,  (which  cannot  change.) 
but  the  variable  accessory  modes  of  representing  it.  How- 
ever, there  is  certainly  very  often  a  distemper  appearing 
among  those  that  profess  religion,  in  coveting  to  hear  unto 
excess,  and  beyond  what  is  either  suitable  or  designed 
unto  use  and  profit.  When  the  pleasure  of  a  delightful 
revolving  of  the  ever  fresh  and  fragrant  truths  of  the  Gos- 
pel, and  reducing  them  to  answerable  practice,  is  lo.^t  and 
stifled,  by  heaping  on  of  more  than  can  be  digested.  And 
many  a  hopeful  birth  of  pious  and  holy  dispositions,  affec- 
tions, and  good  works,  is  suppressed  or  enfeebled  by  an 
untimely  superfetation. 

6.  Lastly,  'tis  a  most  undelightful  religion,  which  con- 
sists entirely  in  the  external  additaments  and  forms  of 
worship,  which  this  or  that  party  have  chosen  to  affix  to  it. 
Yea,  though  those  forms  be  never  so  certainly  of  Divine 

f  Ezek.  xxxiii. 


382 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


Part  II 


prescription;  which,  however  God  hath  appointed  them, 
were  never  appointed  or  intended  by  him  to  be  our  reli- 
gion, but  to  be  subservient  helps  and  means  to  it.  Being 
enlivened  by  it,  they  are  comely  and  delightful;  but  se- 
vered and  cut  off  from  it,  or  the  course  of  vital  spirit  that 
should  flow  into  them  being  obstructed  and  repressed,  thev 
have  no  more  pleasure  in  them  than  a  dead  arm  or  finger. 
Such  divine  appointments  themselves,  severed  from  the 
things  wherein  substantial  religion  consists,  have  been  an 
abomination  to  the  Lord,  (Your  new  moons  and  sabbaths, 
&c.  ray  soul  hates,)  and  then  sure  there  is  little  reason 
they  should  be  a  delight  to  us.=  If  they  be,  it  is  as  fond 
and  trifling  a  delight,  as  when  one  hath  the  opportunity  of 
conversing  with  some  excellent  person,  to  neglect  all  his 
wise  sayings,  and  pleasant  instructive  discourses,  and  only 
to  please  oneself  in  viewing  his  handsome  apparel ;  yea, 
though  I  should  know  at  the  same  time,  that  I  thereby 
greatly  displease  him  whom  (as  is  also  supposable)  I  were 
greatly  concerned  to  please.  Thus  it  is  with  them  that 
mind  only  the  solemnity  of  God's  worship,  not  the  design. 
And  more  gross  the  matter  is  with  such  as  by  their  ob- 
servance of  the  external  modes  of  religion,  think  to  expiate 
the  badness  of  their  most  vicious  conversation  ;  that  will 
steal,  and  murder,  and  commit  adultery,  oppress  the  stran- 
ger, the  fatherless,  and  the  widow ;  and  3'et  presume  to 
stand  before  the  Lord  in  his  house,  and  cry,  The  temple 
of  the  Lord,  &c.h  This  is  the  pharisaical  religion,  that 
is  scrupulous  in  ty  thing  mint,  annise,  cummin,  and  neg- 
lects the  weighty  things  of  the  law,  justice,  judgment,  and 
truth.  These  men  delight  in  what  not  only  is  dead  in  itself, 
but  will  be  mortal  unto  them.  And  if  the  Divine  institu- 
tion of  the  things  wherewith  they  so  vainly  please  them- 
selves will  not  bear  them  out,  much  less  their  own,  be 
their  discriminating  denomination  or  profession  what  it 
will.  And  now  all  these  things,  (whether  severally  or  to- 
gether,) and  whatever  else  of  like  kind,  do  at  the  best  make 
but  a  dead,  and  consequently  an  undelightful,  religion, 
such  as  hath  no  pleasure  in  it,  becattse  it  hath  no  life;  it 
remains  therefore, 

2.  To  show  how  unfit  such  a  religion  is  to  be  chosen  or 
rested  in.  And  surely  since  (as  appears  from  what  was 
formerly  said)  the  persuading  of  men  to  become  religious 
or  godly,  is  but  an  inviting  them  to  a  state  and  course 
wherein  they  may  delight  them.selves  with  God  ;  or  to  a 
life  of  pure  and  heavenly  pleasure ;  that  is  only  the  vain 
show  of  religion,  which  affords  nothing  of  that  pleasure. 
And  how  unreasonable  and  foolish  is  it  when  religion  it- 
self is  the  thing  we  pretend,  to  let  ourselves  be  mocked  (as 
we  mock  others,  and  vainly  attempt  to  mock  him  also, 
who  is  not  to  be  mocked)  with  the  mere  empty  show  and 
appearance  of  it!  That  we  may  be  here  somewhat  more 
particular,  let  it  be  considered, 

I.  That  the  religion  which  is  in  itself  undelightful,  is, 
for  the  same  reason  for  which  it  is  so,  incapable  of  growth ; 
tliat  is,  because  it  is  a  dead  thing.  For  that  reason  it  is 
without  delight;  and  for  the  same  reason  admits  not  of 
improvement.  It  wants  the  self-improving  principle.  He 
that  drinks  of  that  water  (saith  our  Saviour)  which  I  shall 
give  him,  it  shall  be  in  him  as  a  well  of  water  springing 
up  in  him  unto  life  eternal. i  That  only  principle  of  all 
true  religion  and  godliness,  the  divine  nature,  the  seed  of 
God,  is  of  that  heavenly  tendency,  it  aims  and  aspires  up- 
ward ;  and  will  never  cease  shooting  up  till  it  reach  heaven ; 
and  the  pleasure  and  delightfulness  of  it  stand  much  in 
its  continual  springing  up  towards  a  perfect  state,  from  a 
grain  of  mustard-seed  to  the  tallness  of  a  cedar.  'Tis 
pleasant  to  behold  its  constant  undecaying  greenness  and 
verdure  ;  such  as  renders  it  subject  like  a  tree  planted  by 
the  rivers  of  water  that  brings  forth  fruit  in  season,  whose 
leaf  also  doth  not  wither,  and  whatsoever  he  doth  prospers. k 
Or  as  plants  set  in  the  house  of  the  Lord,  that  flourish  in 
the  courts  of  their  God  ;  that  shall  still  bring  forth  fruit 
even  in  old  age,  and  be  fat  and  flourishing.!  The  dead, 
dry  forms,  or  other  appendages  of  religion,  that  have  no 
communion  with  a  living  root,  or  the  religion  that  is  only 
made  up  of  these,  gives  no  such  hope  of  improvement. 
A  great  and  most  considerable  prejudice  against  any  thing 
that  pretends  to  the  name  of  religion  ;  which  being  at  first 
an  imperfect  thing,  (as  that  especially  which  itself  is  but 
e  Isa.  i.  h  Jer.  vii.  i  John  iv. 


pretence  and  .shadow  cannot  but  be,)  if  it  shall  never  be 
expected  to  be  better,  can  have  little  claim  or  title  to  any 
excellency.  The  value  even  of  true  religion,  though  it  be 
of  an  excellent  nature  and  kind,  stands  much  in  the  hope- 
fulness and  improveableness  of  it ;  and  is  not  so  much  to 
be  considered  in  respect  of  what  it  is,  as  what  it  shall  come 
to.  This  lank,  spiritless  religion,  as  soon  as  you  assume 
and  take  it  up,  you  know  the  best  of  it.  'Tis  not  of  a 
growing,  thriving  kind;  never  expect  better  of  it.  'Tis 
true,  the  notional  knowledge,  opinionativeness,  and  exter- 
nal observances,  which  we  have  spoken  of,  may  be  so  in- 
creased, as  a  heap  of  sand  may  be  ;  but  the  religion  of  such 
grows  not  as  a  thing  that  hath  life  in  it,  by  vital  self-im- 
provement. 

2.  Nor  for  the  same  reason  can  it  be  a  lasting  thing. 
For  it  wants  what  should  maintain  it.  It  will,  as  a  ves- 
ture, wear  and  grow  old;  or,  being  as  a  cloak  put  on  to 
serve  a  present  turn,  is,  when  that  turn  is  served,  as  easily 
thrown  off,  i.  e.  being  found  to  be  more  cumbersome  than 
useful.  What  hath  living  union  with  a  man's  own  self, 
it's  neither  his  ease  nor  convenience  ;  he  neither  affects, 
nor  can  endure  to  lay  it  aside.  It  is  given  as  a  character 
of  a  hypocrite,  (one  who  therefore  must  be  understood  to 
carry  with  him  some  show  and  face  of  religion,  and  to  want 
the  living  root  and  principle  of  it,)  that  he  is  inconstant  in 
his  religion ;  Will  he  at  all  times  call  upon  God  7™  or  will 
he  be  constantly  religious'?  The  interrogative  form  of 
speech  implies  more  than  a  mere  negative.  That  is,  doth 
not  only  say  that  he  will  not  at  all  times  call  upon  God, 
but  that  it  is  absurd  to  say  or  think  that  he  will.  For  it 
is  an  appeal  to  common  reason  in  the  case ;  as  if  it  had 
been  said,  "  Can  any  man  think  that  such  a  one's  religion 
will  be  lasting?  It  imports  a  disdain  it  should  be  thought 
so.  What !  he  call  upon  God  at  all  times  1  A  likely  thing  ! 
No;  the  matter  is  plain,  his  religion  is  measured  by  his 
secular  interest,  and  he  will  only  be  so  long  religions  as 
will  serve  that  purpose.  And  the  reason  is  plainly  assign- 
ed in  the  foregoing  words,  "  Will  he  delight  himself  in 
the  Almighty'?"  His  religion  hath  no  delight  with  it :  'tis 
a  languid,  faint,  spiritless  thing,  a  dead  form.  If  it  had 
life,  it  would  have  pleasure  in  it ;  and  then  the  same  vital 
principle  that  would  make  it  pleasant,  would  make  it  last- 
ing and  permanent  also. 

3.  While  it  doth  last,  it  wants  the  fruit  and  profit  which 
should  be  designed  and  sought  by  religion  ;  even  for  the 
same  reason  for  which  it  is  without  delight,  it  is  also  fruit- 
less and  vain, i.e.  because  it  hath  no  life  in  it.  So  that  all 
that  is  done  in  this  way  of  religion  is  only  labour  and  toil 
to  no  purpose.  And  what  do  or  can  we  propose  to  our- 
selves from  religion,  as  the  proper  design  of  it,  but  to  have 
our  spirits  fitted  to  the  honouring  and  enjoying  of  God. 
unto  service  to  him,  and  blessedness  in  him  ;  and  that  we 
may  hereupon  actually  both  serve  and  enjoy  him  1  Both 
these  chiefly  depend  upon  his  favourable  acceptance  of  us. 
He  will  neither  reckon  himself  served  by  us,  nor  allow 
himself  to  be  enjoyed,  if  he  be  not  pleased  with  us.  And 
how  shall  we  expect  to  please  him  with  that,  wherewith, 
the  more  our  minds  come  to  be  rectified  and  made  con- 
formable to  the  rule  of  righteousness  and  life,  the  more 
impossible  it  is  that  we  can  be  pleased  ourselves  1  Can  we 
please  him  by  a  religion  that  is  in  itself  unsavoury,  spirit- 
less, and  dead ;  and  that  affords  not  to  ourselves  the  least 
relish  of  true  pleasure  1  And  partly  the  success  of  our 
religion  in  the  mentioned  respects,  depends  upon  the  due 
temperament  our  .spirits  receive  by  it;  but  what  good  im- 
pres.sion  can  that  light,  chafly,  empty  religion  that  hath 
been  described,  ever  be  hoped  to  make  there!  Is  it  a 
likely  means  of  refining  and  bettering  our  spirits  1  Even 
as  it  is  void  of  spiritual  delight,  it's  also  of  spiritual  bene- 
fit ;  for  certainly  our  spirits  are  like  to  embrace  and  retain 
nothing  in  which  they  can  take  no  pleasure.  How  vain 
then  is  that  religion  by  which  we  can  neither  please  God 
nor  profit  ourselves ! 

4.  It  ought  to  be  considered  how  foolish  a  thing  it  is, 
and  unworthy  of  a  reasonable  creature,  to  do  that  in  a 
continued  course  and  series  of  actions  wherein  we  can 
have  no  design,  and  do  aim  at  nothing.  Even  they  that 
place  their  religion  in  things  so  remote  and  alien  tc  the 
spirit  and  power  of  it,  do  yet  spend  a  considerable  part  of 

k  Psalm  i.  1  Psalm  xcii.  m  Job  ji.v\ii.  10. 


Part  II. 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


383 


their  life-time  in  those  things.  And  how  becoming  is  it 
of  a  man  to  have  spent  so  much  of  his  time  in  doing  no- 
thing !  and  that  from  week  to  week,  or  from  day  today,  the 
seasons  should  return,  of  which  he  hath  constantly  this  to 
say,  "  Now  comes  the  time  of  doing  that  whereof  I  can 
give  no  account  why  I  do  it!"  That  there  should  be  so 
constant  a  defalcation  of  such  portions  of  time  for  that 
which  a  man  can  neither  call  business  nor  recreation,  which 
tends  to  no  advantage  in  any  kind.  For  it  tends  not  to 
promote  his  secular  interest  but  in  so  indirect  and  by  a 
way,  and  with  so  sinister  and  basely-oblique  respects,  as 
an  honest  man  would  abhor,  and  an  ingenuous  man  be 
ashamed  to  profess;  and  his  spiritual  and  eternal  interest 
much  less.  This  were  therefore  the  same  thing  as  to  pro- 
claim oneself  a  fool  or  a  vain  trifler.  The  things  that 
have  been  instanced  in,  (considered  so  abstractly  from  the 
substance  of  religion  as  we  have  considered  them,)  being 
such,  some  of  them,  as  to  carry  not  with  them  so  much  as 
that  very  show  of  wisdom,  "  of  which  the  apostle  speaks; 
and  others  of  them,  so  faint  a  show,  as  it  ill  becomes  a 
wise  man  to  be  pleased  M'ith,  while  they  do  his  better  part 
no  good,  and  carry  not  that  show  in  any  provision  (as  that 
word  rijjiii  sometimes  signifies)  for  the  satisfying  of  the  flesh. 

And  yet  it  is  to  be  withal  remembered,  that  this  (waste 
and  lost)  time  of  their  life  is  all  that  such  persons  allot  to 
their  everlasting  concernments;  and  that  the  things  which 
have  been  mentioned  (some  or  other  of  them,  for  all  do 
not  always  concur  with  the  same  persons)  <are  not  made 
subservient  to,  but  are  substituted  in  the  room  and  stead 
ol',  the  religion  by  which  those  concernments  should  be 
provided  for.  And  is  this  a  wise  provision  for  eternity  ■? 
What,  man  1  a  few  empty,  unimproved  notions !  a  by- 
opinion  or  two  !  the  flourishes  of  a  little  pedantic  art  tick- 
ling thy  toyish  fancy!  the  motion  of  thy  only  busy  and  la- 
bouring tongue  !  or  the  thirst  and  satisfaction  of  thy  vain 
ear!  the  bowing  of  th}^  hypocritical  knee  !  Are  these  all 
that  thou  designest,  or  wilt  mind  to  do,  for  thy  soul  1  Are 
these  like  well  to  supply  the  place  of  living  religion  1  to 
serve  thee  instead  of  inward  acquaintance  with  Godl  of 
being  really  and  habitually  good  and  holy  1  of  doing  good 
and  vvalking  in  the  path  of  life  1  What  a  soul  hast  thou, 
that  can  live  upon  chaff  and  air,  and  be  sustained  by  the 
wind  1  Hast  thou  no  need  of  quickening  influence  from 
Godl  no  hunger  after  the  heavenly,  hidden  manna,  and 
the  fruits  of  the  tree  of  life  1  What  use  makest  thou  of 
thy  understanding,  or  of  the  reason  of  a  man,  when  thou 
thinkest  such  empty  vanities  as  thou  trustest  in  can  do  the 
oflfice,  or  attain  the  ends,  of  true  religion  1  How  much 
more  rational  were  it  to  pretend  to  nothing  of  religion  at 
all,  than  to  think  such  a  one  will  serve  the  turn  ! 

5  Consider,  what  reflections  are  likely  lo  be  made  upon 
this  matter  hereafter,  when  thy  short  course  in  this  world 
is  run  out.  Will  it  be  a  grateful  remembrance  to  thee  that 
thou  wast  so  long  hovering  about  the  borders  of  religion  1 
and  wast  at  the  very  door  and  wouldst  not  enter  in  1  that 
thou  didst  so  often  think  and  speak,  and  hear  of  the  things 
wherein  religion  stood,  but  wouldst  never  allow  thyself  to 
taste  the  pleasant  relishes  thereof  1  to  have  been  so  nigh 
to  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  yet  an  alien  to  it,  to  the  right- 
eousness and  peace,  and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost,  wherein 
it  consists "?  that  thou  didst  only  please  thyself  with  the 
painted  casket  (made  fine,  as  thou  thoughtest,  but  only 
with  thine  own  pencil)  wherein  so  rich  a  jewel  was;  and 
retaining  that,  threwest  away  this  as  a  thing  of  nought  1 
will  not  these  be  wounding  thoughts'? 

C.  Let  it  be  seriously  pondered  how  offensive  it  must  be 
to  the  jealous  God  that  any  should  thus  trifle  with  him 
and  his  holy  things,  under  a  show  and  pretence  of  religion 
and  devotion  to  him.  Not  to  please  him  by  the  sincerity 
and  truth  of  our  religion,  loses  the  end  and  reward  we 
would  expect.  But  that  is  not  all.  To  provoke  him  by 
the  hypocritical  pretence  and  abuse  of  it,  cannot  but  infer 
a  sharp  revenge  which  it  may  be  we  expected  not.  And 
let  us  bethink  ourselves  how  high  the  provocation  is!  Ei- 
ther we  design  to  please,  honour,  and  enjoy  him  by  that 
irrational  and  undelightful  course  of  religion,  or  we  do 
not.  If  we  do  not,  this  signifies  nothing  but  highest  con- 
tempt and  defiance  of  him;  and  that  we  care  not  for  his 
favour  nor  fear  his  displeasure.     Yea,  inasmuch  as  such 

n  Col.  ii.  23.  o  John  iv. 


religion  is  pretended  as  a  homage  to  him,  it  is  nothing 
really  but  most  profane  and  insolent  mocker)';  as  if  we 
would  join  in  the  .same  breath  and  in  the  same  act,  "  Hail, 
Jesus,  and  crucify  him ;"  and  at  once  invest  him  with  the 
purple  robe,  and  spit  in  his  face.  But  if  we  have  such  a 
design,  and  do  really  think  to  please  him  by  such  trifling 
with  him;  and  that  these  vain  fancies  and  formalities  shall 
make  amends  for  all  our  neglects  of  him  through  the  whole 
course  of  our  lives  besides;  then  how  vile  thoughts  have 
we  of  him  !  What  do  we  make  of  the  God  we  serve  1  How 
justly  may  that  be  applied  to  us,  Ye  worship  ye  know  not 
what !  o  Who  gave  us  our  idea  of  that  ever  blessed  Being  1 
It  is  not  God,  but  a  despicable  idol  of  our  own  creating, 
we  are  thinking  to  please.  We  may  see  how  well  he  is 
pleased  with  the  external  show  and  the  appendages  of  re- 
ligion (which  being  his  own  appointments  would  in  con- 
junction and  in  subserviencj'  thereto  have  signified  some- 
what, but  disjoined  from  it,  and  accompanied  with  the 
neglect  and  abandoning  of  real  piety  and  righteousness, 
signified  nothing  but  an  affront  to  him)  in  that  remon- 
strance by  the  prophet;  He  that  killeth  an  ox  is  as  if  he 
slew  a  man ;  he  that  sacrificeth  a  lamb,  as  if  he  cut  off  a 
dog's  neck;  he  that  oflereth  an  oblation,  as  if  he  offered 
swine's  blood;  he  that  burneth  incense,  as  if  he  blessed  an 
idol.P  He  is  pleased  with  their  religion  as  he  would  be 
with  murder,  profaneness,  and  idolatry.  And  is  it  strange 
this  should  be  his  estimate,  when  he  is  hereby  practically 
represented  as  such  a  one  that  will  not  be  displeased  with 
real  wickedness,  and  that  will  be  pleased  with  the  thinnest 
and  most  superficial  show  of  devotion  ? 

They  therefore  make  a  fair  hand  of  their  religion,  who 
are  so  far  from  pleasing  God  by  it  and  advantaging  them- 
selves, that  they  wound  their  own  souls,  (as  they  are  most 
like  to  do  that  handle  so  awkwardly  such  an  edged  tool,) 
and  render  God  their  most  avowed  enemy.  The  religion 
then  which  hath  no  delight  in  it,  has  so  much  of  folly,  in- 
commodiiy,  and  mischief,  that  measuring  it  by  the  rules 
which  were  premised,  we  may  see  sufficient  reason  why 
such  a  religion  should  not  be  chosen  or  rested  in :  and  that 
we  are  concerned  to  look  further. 

Wherefore  we  proceed  next, 

2.  To  the  other  head  we  proposed ;  the  positive  judg- 
ment we  are  to  make,  what  religion  is  fit  to  be  chosen,  and 
wherein  we  may  safely  acquiesce;  whereof  we  shall  only 
give  the  account  which  the  subject  we  have  in  hand  allows 
to  be  here  given,  i.  c.  that  it  be  such  as  is  in  itself  ration- 
ally and  justly  delectable.  And  though  religion  is  not  to 
be  chosen  only  or  chiefly  for  the  delightfulness  of  it;  yet 
since,  as  we  have  seen,  only  that  religion  is  true  which  is 
delightful,  that  only  which  is  delightful  is  fit  to  be  chosen. 
So  that  this  is  a  certain  character  (though  not  the  chief 
cause)  of  the  eligibleness  of  religion.  And  when  it  is  so 
expressly  enjoined  us  as  a  duty,  to  delight  ourselves  in  the 
Lord;  if,  as  hath  been  shown,  this  be  within  the  meaning 
of  the  precept,  that,  in  the  general,  we  delight  ourselves  in 
a  way  and  course  of  religion;  it  is  plain  such  religion  only 
can  be  meant  or  intended,  as  can  afford  us  matter  of  de- 
light, or  as  is  in  itself  truly  and  really  delectable.  And 
here  we  shall  not  need  to  repeat  what  hath  been  so  largely 
discoursed  in  the  Former  Part,  tending  to  show  the  rich 
matter  of  delight  which  the  several  exercises  of  true  liv- 
ing religion,  and  all  the  actions  influenced  and  directed  by 
it,  do  carry  in  them.  It  will  be  only  requisite,  to  offer 
somewhat  partly  to  direct,  partly  to  excite,  unto  that  de- 
lightful pheasant  life. 

I.  For  direction,  let  such  rules  be  observed  as  these 
which  follow. 

1.  Endeavour  to  have  a  mind  well  instructed  in  the 
knoAvledge  of  such  things  as  more  directly  concern  the 
common  practice  of  a  religious  man,  as  such.  That  is.  to 
be  thoroughly  insighted  into  practical  truths,  or  into  that 
truth  which  is  after  godliness.  It  hath  been  the  merciful 
vouchsafement  of  the  Divine  goodness,  so  to  order  it,  that 
those  things  are  plain  and  but  few,  which  are  of  more  ab- 
solute necessity  in  religion,  as  may  he  seen  by  the  sum- 
marj'  accounts  which  we  find  sometimes  given  thereof, — 
repentance  towards  God,  and  faith  toward  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ.i  Which  two  things  (intimated  to  comprehend  the 
whole  counsel  of  God)  do  manifestly  suppose  the  state  of 

p  I<ia.  Ixvi.  3.  q  Acts  xx. 


384 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


Part  II. 


apostacy,  and  express  the  way  of  remedy;  whereinto,  when 
we  are  brought,  how  succinct  and  clear  a  recapituhitionol' 
our  duty  have  we  in  that  of  our  Saviour,  "  Thou  shalt  love 
the  Lord  thy  God,  with  all  thy  heart,  and  with  all  thy  soul, 
and  with  all  thy  mind  :  and  thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbour 
as  thyself!"  To  a  well-complexioned  spirit,  how  compre- 
hensive and  how  full,  how  savoury  and  acceptable,  will 
these  things  appear :  nor  would  such  a  one  part  with  the 
substantial  fulness  of  these  few  words  for  all  the  treasures 
of  both  the  Indies.  How  truly  is  it  called,  that  good,  that 
acceptable  and  perfect  will  of  God! '  And  how  filly  to  be 
preferred  before  thousands  of  gold  and  silver!  Things  of 
highest  value  are  not  bulky;  their  excellency  is  the  great- 
er by  being  contracted;  and  that,  being  in  themselves  pre- 
cious, they  are  so  conveniently  portable.  How  easily  are 
these  dictates  carried  about  with  us  through  our  whole 
course  !  and  how  universally  useful  are  they  for  the  well- 
guiding  of  it,  to  such  as  have  a  greater  mind  to  do  their 
duty  than  move  questions  about  it !  Two  things  are  both 
opposite  to  this  rule,  and  not  a  little  prejudicial  to  the  de- 
light of  religious  conversation,  (by  which  it  will  appear, 
how  conducible  to  it  the  matter  here  directed  is)  viz.  ex- 
cessive curiosity  in  the  speculation  of  truths  belonging  to 
religion,  without  designing  to  refer  them  to  practice ; 
(which  hath  been  animadverted  on  before,)  and  an  equally 
excessive  scrupulosity  about  matters  of  practice.  It  were 
indeed  an  argument  of  a  desperate  mind,  and  destitute  of 
any  fear  of  God,  to  be  careless  what  we  do,  and  uncon- 
cerned whether  the  way  we  take,  in  this  or  that  case,  be 
right  or  wrong.  But  it  is  certain,  there  may  be  an  excess  in 
this  matter,  and  too  often  is ;  that  is,  there  may  be  a  scru- 
pulosity which  is  both  causeless  and  endless.  There  is 
surely  some  medium  in  travelling  between  a  careless  Avan- 
dering  we  mind  not  whither,  and  aperpetual  anxiety  whe- 
ther we  be  in  our  way  or  no,  with  often  going  back  to  in- 
quire. This  would  quite  destroy  both  the  pleasure  of  the 
journey,  and  the  progress  of  it.  Some  difficulties  may  oc- 
cur, which  should  justly  occasion  one  to  make  a  stand  and 
consider.  But  probably,  very  many  cases  that  some  do 
agitate  with  much  disquiet  to  themselves  and  others,  would 
soonest  be  expedited  by  sincerity,  and  reducing  them  to 
the  law  of  love. 

It  would  however  make  much  for  our  pleasant,  delight- 
ful walking  on  in  the  way  of  God,  to  have  a  mind  (in- 
formed once  and  established  thoroughly  in  the  belief  of  the 
principal  doctrines  of  Christian  religion)  well  furnished 
also  with  the  most  useful  practical  precepts,  which  might 
at  every  turn  be  ready  at  hand  to  be  applied  upon  emer- 
gencies; which  they  whom  predominate  self-interest  or  cor- 
rupt inclination  render  not  difficult  to  the  apprehending  of 
their  duty,  (our  way  is  not  usually  otherwise  so  very  in- 
tricate,) may  cheerfully  and  innocently  guide  themselves 
by.  "  He  that  walketh uprightly,  walketh  surely."  Though 
some  men's  way  may,  by  the  circumstances  of  their  con- 
ditions, be  much  more  perplexed  than  others,  who  are 
therefore  concerned  to  be  the  more  wary.  But  the  diffi- 
cult toil  and  tug  that  some  have  with  themselves,  is,  how 
by  contrived  explications  they  may  make  their  rule  bend 
and  yield  to  their  .self-biassed  humours  and  ends  ;  which 
because  they  find  it  not  easy  to  do  with  full  satisfaction  to 
their  consciences,  (that  see  more  than  they  would  have 
them,  and  are  yet  not  of  authority  enough  with  them  to 
govern  and  command  their  practice,)  it  is  not  strange,  they 
entangle  and  even  lose  themselves  amongst  thorns  and  bri- 
ars, and  meet  with  little  delight  in  their  way.  Wherefore, 

2.  Be  principally  intent  to  have  your  soul  become  ha- 
bitually good  and  holy,  by  its  own  settled  temper  and  com- 
plexion inclined  and  made  suitable  to  the  way  of  right- 
eousness and  life.  It  was,  no  doubt,  with  a  very  sweet 
gust  and  relish  of  pleasure,  that  the  Psalmist  utters  that 
gralulatory  acknowledgment  of  the  Divine  goodness  in 
this,  He  restoreth  my  soul ;  he  leadeth  me  in  paths  of 
righteousness  for  his  name's  sake.^  The  paths  of  right- 
eousness are  very  agreeable  and  pleasant  to  a  restored,  a 
sound  and  healthy  soul ;  to  one  that  is  now  got  into  a  good 
habit  and  a  settled  state  of  spiritual  strength.  You  may, 
therefore,  take  the  meaning  and  substance  of  this  precept, 
in  the  apostle's  (more  authoritative)  words.  Be  ye  trans- 


r  Rom.  xii.  2. 
u  Rom.  v-iii.  7. 


s  P.aal.  xxiii.  3. 
X  Psal.  xl.  8. 


»  Rom.  xii.  2. 
y  1  John  V. 


formed  in  the  renewing  of  your  mind,  that  ye  may  prove 
what  is  that  good,  that  acceptable  and  perfect  will  of  God.t 
You  can  never  (q.  d.)  have  a  proof  of  it,  the  very  palate 
of  your  soul  will  be  vicious  and  still  disaffected,  till  then, 
that  is,  till  that  transformation  and  renewing  change  hath 
past  upon  you.  Then  it  will  be  pleasant  to  you  to  know 
the  will  of  God ;  your  delight  will  be  in  the  law  of  the 
Lord,  and  in  his  law  you  will  meditate  both  day  and 
night.  And  it  will  be  more  pleasant  to  do  it.  You  will 
esteem  the  words  of  his  mouth  as  your  appointed  food,  and 
it  will  be  as  your  meat  and  drink  to  do  his  will.  You  can 
easily  apprehend  how  toilsome  and  painful  any  thing  of 
business  and  labour  is  to  a  person  that  languishes  under 
some  enfeebling  lazy  disease.  A  like  case  it  is,  when  vou 
would  put  one  upon  doing  any  thing  spiritually  good,  that 
is  listless,  indisposed,  to  every  good  work  reprobate.  How 
will  the  heart  recoil  and  give  back  !  with  how  vehement 
a  reluctation  will  it  resist  the  proposal,  as  if  you  were  ur- 
ging it  upon  flames,  or  the  sword's  point !  The  carnal 
mind  is  enmity  against  God,  and  is  not  subject  to  his  law, 
nor  indeed  can  be."  But  when  once  the  law  of  God  is 
within  your  heart,  you  will  delight  to  do  his  will.»  To 
one  that  is  born  of  God,  and  hath,  therefore,  overcome  the 
world,  his  commands  are  not  grievous. y  Know,  therefore, 
you  must  be  good,  (really  and  habitually  so,)  in  order  to 
your  doing  good »  with  any  delight,  in  conformity  to  the 
iDlessed  God  him.self,  (your  pattern,)  who,  therefore,  exer- 
cises loving-kindness,  judgment,  and  righteousness  in  the 
earth,  as  delighting  in  these  things."  You  must  be  parta- 
ker of  a  divine  nature,  and  have  the  heart-rectifying  com- 
munication before  discoursed  of,  and  become  God's  own 
workmanship,  a  second  time,  created  in  Christ  Jesus  unto 
good  works. b  'Tis  not  to  be  hoped  it  can  be  delightful  to 
act  against  inclination ;  or  that  a  forced  imitation  of  that 
good  whereof  you  want  the  implanted  vital  principle,  can 
be  any  more  pleasing  to  you  than  it  is  to  God,  whom  you 
cannot  mock  or  impose  upon  by  your  most  elaborate  or 
specious  disguises.  And,  therefore,  since  that  holy  heart- 
rectitude  must  be  had,  it  must  be  sought  earnestly  and 
without  rest.  Often  ought  heaven  to  be  visited  with  such 
sighs  and  longings  sent  up  thither,  O  that  my  waj^s  were 
directed  to  keep  thy  righteous  judgments.  Let  my  heart 
be  sound  in  thy  statutes,  that  I  be  not  ashamed. <=  And  it 
should  be  sought  with  expectation  of  good  speed  and  with- 
out despair,  remembering  we  are  told,  if  we  ask  we  shall 
receive;  if  we  seek  we  shall  find  ;  if  we  knock  it  shall  be 
opened  unto ;  yea,  that  our  heavenly  Father  will  much 
more  readily  give  his  Holy  Spirit  to  them  that  ask,  than 
you  would  bread  to  your  child  that  calls  for  it,  rather  than 
a  stone. 

3.  When  once  you  find  your  spirit  is  become  m  any  mea- 
sure well-inclined,  and  begins  to  savour  that  Avhich  is  truly 
good;  know  yet,  that  it  needs  your  continual  inspection 
and  care,  to  cherish  good  principles  and  repress  evil  ones. 
Your  work  is  not  done  as  soon  as  you  begin  to  live,  as 
care  about  an  infant  ceases  not  as  soon  as  it  is  born.  Let 
it  be,  therefore,  your  constant  business,  to  tend  your  in- 
ward man  ;  otherwise  all  things  will  soon  be  out  of  course. 
God  hath  coupled  delight  with  the  labour  of  a  Christian, 
not  with  the  sloth  and  neglect  of  himself;  the  heart  must 
then  be  kept  with  all  diligence,  a  or  above  all  keeping,  in- 
asmuch as  out  of  it  are  the  issues  of  life.  All  vital  prin- 
ciples are  lodged  there;  and  only  the  genuine  issues  of 
such  as  are  good  and  holy,  will  yield  you  pleasure.  The 
exercises  of  religion  will  be  pleasant  when  they  are  na- 
tural, and  flow  easily  from  their  own  fountain  ;  but  great 
care  must  be  taken  that  the  fountain  be  kept  pure.  "There 
are  other  springs  besides,  which  will  be  apt  to  intermingle 
therewith  their  bitter  waters,  or  a  root  of  bitterness,  whose 
fruit  is  deadly,  even  that  evil  thing,  and  bitter,  forsaking 
the  Lord.  I  wonder  not,  if  they  taste  little  of  the  delights 
of  religion  that  take  no  heed  to  their  spirits.  Such  s 
curse  is  upon  the  nature  of  man  as  is  upon  the  ground 
which  was  cursed  for  his  sake,  (till  the  blessing  of  Abra- 
ham through  Jesus  Christ  do  take  place,  even  the  pro- 
mise of  the  Spirit,*^)  that  it  brings  forth  naturally  thorns 
and  thistles,  and  mingles  sorrows  with  his  bread.  But 
that  promised  blessing,  that  will  enable  a  man  to  eat  with 


z  Psal   cxix. 
c  psal.  cxi.x. 


a  Jer.  ix.  24. 
d  Prov.  iv. 


b  Eph.  ii. 
e  Gal.  iii.  U. 


Tart  II. 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


385 


pleasure,  comes  not  all  at  once;  nor  do  the  increases  of  it 
come  on^  or  the  pleasant  fruits  of  righteousness  spring  up, 
but  in  them  that  give  all  diligence,  to  add  to  their  faith 
virtue;  and  to  virtue  knowledge;  and  to  knowledge  tem- 
perance ;  and  to  temperance  patience;  and  to  paiience 
godliness;  and  to  godliness  brotherl3'-kindness ;  and  to 
brotherly-kindness  charily  ;r  which  would  make  that  we 
be  not  barren  nor  unfruitful  in  the  knowledge  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ.  Otherwise,  look  in  upon  thy  soul  when 
thou  wilt,  and  thou  wilt  have  no  other  than  the  dismal 
Drospect  of  miserable  waste  and  desolation.  Consider  it 
seriously,  wretched  man !  who  tillest  thy  field,  but  not 
thy  soul;  and  lovest  to  see  thy  garden  neat  and  flourish- 
ing, but  lettest  thy  spirit  lie  as  a  neglected  thing,  and  as 
if  it  were  not  thine. 

We  are  directed  for  the  moderating  of  our  care  in  our 
earthly  concernments,  to  consider  the  lilies  how  they  grow 
without  their  own  toil,  and  are  beautifully  arrayed  without 
iheir  spinning ;  hut  we  are  taught  by  no  such  instances, 
to  divert  or  remit  our  care  of  our  inward  man.  To  these 
concernments,  let  us  then  apply  and  bend  ourselves.  That 
is,  carefully  to  observe  the  first  stirrings  of  our  thoughts 
2nd  desires;  to  animadvert  upon  our  inclinations  as  soon 
as  they  can  come  in  view,  upon  our  designs  in  their  very 
formation  ;  and  inquire  concerning  each,  whence  is  it  1 
from  a  good  principle  or  a  bad  1  whither  tends  it  1  to 
good  or  hartl  will  not  this  design,  if  pro.secuted,  prove  an 
unjustifiable  self-indulgence  1  does  it  not  lend  to  an  un- 
lawful gratifying  of  the  flesh,  and  fulfilling  some  lu.sts 
thereof?  If  so,  let  it  be  lopt  off  out  of  hand,  and  the  axe 
be  laid  even  to  the  root;  strike  at  it,  favour  it  not.  Think 
with  thyself,  "  This,  if  spared,  will  breed  me  sorrow  ;  so 
much  as  I  give  to  it,  I  take  away  froin  the  comfort  of  my 
life ;  and  spend  of  the  slock  of  my  spiritual  delight  in 
God.  Shall  I  let  sin,  the  tormentor  of  my  soul,  live  and 
be  maintained  at  so  costly  a  rate  1"  If  any  good  inclina- 
tion discover  itself,  cherish  it,  confirm  and  strengthen  it. 
Look  up,  and  pray  down  a  further  quickening  influence. 
Say  with  thyself,  now  that  heavenly  Spirit  of  life  and  grace 
begins  to  breathe.  More  of  this  pleasant  vital  breath, 
thou  blessed  and  holy  Spirit !  Account  this  a  seed  time, 
now  the  light  and  gladness  are  a  sowing  in  thy  soul, 
(which  are  wont  to  be  for  the  righteous  and  upright  in 
heart,)  and  do  promise,  ere  long,  a  joyful  harvest.  But  if 
thou  wilt  not  observe  how  things  go  with  thy  soul,  despair 
that  they  will  ever  go  well. 

4.  Be  frequent  and  impartial  in  the  actual  exercise  of 
gracious  principles,  or  in  practising  and  doing  as  they 
direct.  Your  actual  delight  arises  from  and  accompanies 
your  holy  actions  themselves,  and  is  to  he  perceived  and 
tasted  in  them  ;  not  in  the  mere  inclination  to  them  which 
is  not  strong  enough  to  go  forth  into  act.  And  as  these 
principles  are  more  frequently  exercised,  they  grow  more 
lively  and  vigorous,  and  will  thence  act  more  strongly  and 
pleasantly ;  so  that  your  delight  in  doing  good  will  grow 
with  the  principles  it  proceeds  from.  But  then  you  must 
be  impartial  and  even-handed  herein,  as  well  as  frequent, 
and  run  the  whole  compass  of  that  duly  which  belongs  to 
you  as  a  Christian.  Exercise  yourself  (as  we  find  the 
direction  is)  unto  godliness;"  and  in  such  acts  and  parts 
of  godliness  chiefly  and  in  the  first  plnce,  as  may  he  the 
exercise  of  the  mind  and  spirit,  in  opposition  to  the  bodily 
exercise  (whether  .severities  imposed  upon ,  or  performances 
that  require,  the  ministry  of  that  grosser  part)  to  which  this 
nobler  kind  of  exercise  is  justly  preferred.  Turn  the 
powers  of  your  soul  upon  God.  Act  seasonably  the  seve- 
ral graces  of  the  Spirit  that  terminate  directly  upon  him. 
Let  none  grow  out  of  use.  At  some  times  repentance,  at 
others  faith,  now  your  love,  then  your  fear;  none  of  these 
are  placed  in  you  or  sanctified  in  vain.  Retire  much 
with  God  ;  learn  and  habituate  yo-urselves  unto  secret  con- 
verse with  him  ;  contemplate  his  nature,  attributes,  and 
works  for  your  excitation  to  holy  adoration,  reverence,  and 
praise.  And  be  much  exercised  in  the  open  solemnities 
of  his  worship  ;  there  endeavouring  that  though  your  in- 
ward man  bear  not  the  only,  it  may  the  principal,  part. 
How  delightful  a  thing  is  it,  to  be  paying  actual  avowed 
homage  to  the  e:reat  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth  before 
angels  and  men  !  And  never  think  3'our  religious  and  de- 
f  2  Pet.  i.  e  I  Tini.  iv. 


votional  exercises  can  acquit  you,  or  supply  the  want  and 
excuse  the  absence  of  sobriety  and  righteousness.  Exer- 
cise a  just  authority  over  yourselves.  Keep  your  imagi- 
nation, passions,  sensitive  appetite  under  a  due  restraint, 
so  as  to  be  moderate  in  your  desires  and  enjoyments,  pa- 
tient as  to  your  wants  and  sufferings.  Do  to  others  as 
you  would  be  done  unto :  study  common  good ;  endea- 
vour, so  far  as  your  capacity  can  extend,  all  about  you 
mav  be  the  better  for  you.  Fcjibear  and  forgive  the  inju- 
rious, relieve  the  necessitous,  delight  in  good  men,  pity 
the  bad,  be  grateful  towards  friends,  mild  and  unrevenge- 
ful  towards  enemies,  just  towards  all.  Abhor  to  do  not 
only  a  dishonest,  but  even  a  mean  and  unworthy,  act,  for 
any  self-advantage.  And  all  this  out  of  an  awful  and  du- 
tiful respect  to  God;  by  which  the  ordinary  actions  of 
your  life  may  become  as  so  many  acts  of  religion,  or  be 
directed  and  influenced  thereby,  tinctured  as  it  were  with 
the  savour  of  godliness.  Pass  thus,  in  your  continual 
practice,  through  the  whole  circle  of  Christian  duties  and 
graces,  with  an  equal  respect  to  all  God's  commandments ; 
not  so  partially  addicting  yourselves  to  one  sort  of  exer- 
cise, as  to  disa^e  and  neglect  the  rest;  which  kind  of  par- 
tiality is  that  which  starves  religion,  and  stifles  the  delight 
of  it. 

There  are  those  that  affect  the  reputation  of  being  sober, 
just,  kind,  charitable  persons,  and  do  appear  such,  who 
yet  are  great  strangers  to  God,  and  to  the  more  noble  ex- 
ercises of  the  divine  life ;  know  not  what  belongs  to  com- 
munion wilh  God,  live  not  in  his  love  and  converse,  savour 
not  heaven  ;  have  not  ^o  much  as  the  taste  of  the  great 
vital  powers  of  the  world  to  come.  Others,  that  pretend 
to  much  acquaintance  with  God,  and  are  much  taken  up 
in  discoursing  of  his  love,  and  of  intimacies  with  him,  that 
count  justice  and  charity  mean  things,  and  much  beneath 
them  ;  can  alloAV  themselves  to  he  covetous,  oppressive, 
fraudulent,  wrathful,  malicious,  peevish,  fretful,  discon- 
tented, proud,  censorious,  merciless ;  and  so  glory  in  a 
religion  which  no  one  is  the  better  for,  and  themselves 
least  of  all;  and  which  is  quite  of  another  slamp  from  the 
pure  religion  and  undefiled,i>  which  the  apostle  describes 
and  recommends.  And  certainly,  their  religion  hath  as 
little  of  pleasure  in  it  to  themselves^  as  it  hath  of  beauty  and 
ornament  in  the  sight  of  others.  So  maimed  a  religion 
can  be  accompanied  with  little  delight.  Would  it  not  de- 
tract much  from  the  natural  pleasure  of  a  man's  life,  if  he 
should  lose  an  arm  or  a  leg;  or  have  them  useless  and 
unserviceable  1  or  if  he  should  be  depiived  of  some  of  his 
senses,  or  natural  faculties,  so  as  to  be  incapable  of  some 
of  the  more  principal  functions  of  life  1  And  if  we  should 
suppose  the  new  creature  alike  maimed  and  defective,  will 
there  not  be  a  proportionable  diminution  of  its  delight  1 
But  the  Spirit  of  God  is  the  author  of  no  such  imperfect 
produciions;  and  therefore  the  total  absence  of  any  holy 
disposition  will  not  argue  the  true  delight  of  such  a  one 
to  be  liltle,  but  none  at  all.  However,  let  all  the  integral 
parts  of  the  new  man  be  supposed  formed  at  first,  and  ex- 
isting together ;  when  this  creature  is  thus  entirely  framed, 
it  is  our  business  to  see  to  the  due  exercise,  and  thereby 
to  the  improvement  and  growth,  of  the  several  parts, 
wherein  if  one  be  neglected,  it  infers  a  general  enfeeble- 
ment  of  the  whole.  Let  patience  have  its  perfect  work, 
(saith  that  apostle.)  that  ye  may  be  perfect,  &c.i  implying, 
that  not  onlv  the  absence"  of  that  one  grace,  but  its  not  be- 
ing thoroughlv  exercised,  would  render  us  very  detective 
Christians.  We  may  say  of  the  several  members  of  this 
divine  creature,  as  is  said  of  tb^'  complex  body  of  Chris- 
tians, If  one  suffer,  all  the  members  suficr  with  it ;  if  one 
be  honoured,  all  rejoice  with  it.  Therefore  that  you  may 
experience  the  delightfulness  of  religion,  see  that  in 
the  exercise  and  practice  of  it  )-ou  be  entire,  thorough 
Christians. 

5.  Be  ye  confirmed  in  the  apprehension,  that  religion  is 
in  itself  "a  delightful  thing,  even  universally  and  in  the 
whole  nature  of  it.  Whereby  a  double  practical  mi.stake 
and  error  will  be  avoided,  that  greatly  obstructs  and  hin- 
ders the  actual  relish  and  sensation  of  that  delight. 

1.  That  either  religion  is  in  the  whole  nature  of  it  such 
a  thing  to  which  delight  must  be  alien,  and  banished 
from  it :  as  if  nothing  did  belong  to,  or  could  consist 
h  James  i.  07.  i  Joir.ps  J  4. 


386 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


Part  II 


with  it,  but  sour  severities,  pensiveness,  and  sad  thoughts. 
Or  else, 

2.  That  if  any  delight  did  belong  to  it  at  all,  it  must  be 
found  only  in  peculiar  extraordinary  assurances  and  per- 
suasions of  God's  love ;  and  be  the  attainment  consequently 
of  none  but  more  eminent  Christians. 

That  apprehension  being  thoroughly  admitted,  both 
these  misapprehensions  fall  and  vanish.  And  it  will  take 
place,  if  it  be  duly  considered, — that  there  is  a  delight 
that  will  naturally  arise  from  the  congruity  and  fitness  of 
actions  in  themselves,  and  the  facility  of  them,  that  they 
flow  easily  from  their  proper  principles.  Whereupon 
there  can  be  no  true  vital  act  of  religion  but  will  be  de- 
lightful. And  we  may  appeal  herein  to  the  judgments  of 
such  as  shall  allow  themselves  to  consider  whether  the 
matter  do  not  evidently  appear  to  be  so  upon  a  serious 
review,  and  revolving  with  themselves  of  the  several  gra- 
cious operations  that  proceed  from  the  holy  rectitude  men- 
tioned in  the  former  part ;  as  the  acts  of  even  repentance, 
self-abasement,  self-denial,  self-devoting,  (appearing  to  be 
in  themselves  most  fit  and  becoming  things,)  and  readily 
without  force  proceeding  (as  they  cannot  but  do)  from  a 
rectified  and  well-disposed  heart,  how  can  they  but  be 
pleasant  1  And  it  is  much  in  our  way  to  the  experiencing 
of  such  delight,  to  be  at  a  point  with  ourselves,  and  well 
resolved  wherein  it  is  to  be  sought  and  found. 

6.  However  all  the  acts  and  operations  of  true  and  liv- 
ing religion  be  in  themselves  delightful,  yet  apply  your- 
selves to  the  doing  of  them  for  a  higher  reason,  and  with 
a  greater  design  than  your  own  delight.  Otherwise  you  de- 
stroy your  own  work  theiem,  and  despoil  your  acts  of  their 
substantial,  moral  goodness,  and  consequently  of  their  de- 
lightfuluess  also.  That  is  not  a  morally  good  act,  which 
is  not  referred  to  God,  and  done  out  of  (at  least)  an  habi- 
tual devotedness  to  him,  so  as  that  he  be  the  ""upreme  end 
thereof  You  would  therefore,  by  withdrawing  and  sepa- 
rating this  reference  to  God,  ravish  from  them  their  very 
life  and  soul ;  yea,  and  perfectly  nullify  those  of  them  that 
should  be  in  themselves  acts  of  religion.  So  as  that  in 
respect  of  ail  your  actions,  that  separation  were  unjust ; 
and  as  to  these  that  should  be  direct  acts  of  religion, 
Impossible.  Since  therefore  they  are  only  delightful  as 
they  are  vital  acts,  proceeding  from  a  principle  of  divine 
life ;  and  that  an  habitual  devotedness  to  God,  is  that  very 
(comprehensive  and  most  radical)  principle;  you  should, 
by  designing  your  own  delight  in  them  supremely,  coun- 
teract yourself,  and  cross  your  own  end  ;  you  should 
make  them  acts  of  idolatry,  not  religion  ;  and  set  up  your 
own  self  as  the  idol  of  jealousy,  that  receives  the  homage 
of  them,  instead  of  God:  whereby  the  unlawful  pleasure 
which  you  would  engross  to  yourselves,  will  turn  all  to 
gall  and  wormwood,  and  be  bitterness  in  the  end.  That 
therefore  you  may  taste  the  sweetness  and  pleasure  which 
belongs  to  a  religious,  godly  life,  your  way  must  be,  to  act 
on  directly  forward  in  the  simplicity  of  your  heart,  doing 
all  that  you  do  to  and  for  God.  And  thus  that  pleasure, 
because  it  is  natural  to  such  acts,  will  of  its  own  accord 
result  and  arise  to  you  ;  and  so  much  the  more,  by  how 
much  less  you  design  for  yourself  in  what  you  do.  From 
that  uprightness  and  sincerity  of  heart  towards  God  it  can 
never  be  separated.  But  to  be  a  religious  epicure,  to  pray, 
hear,  meditate,  do  acts  of  justice  and  charity,  only  to  please 
and  humour  yourselves,  and  that  you  may  derive  a  kind 
of  .solace  and  satisfaction  from  your  own  work,  is  to  undo 
your  design,  and  blast  the  delight  which  you  covet.  It 
follows  while  you  seek  it  not ;  it  flies  from  you  while  you 
so  inordinately  seek  it. 

7.  Yet  disallow  not  yourself  to  taste  and  enjoy  the  plea- 
sure of  well-doing:  yea,  and  (secondarily  and  in  due 
subordination)  to  design  and  endeavour  that  you  may  do 
so.  It  is  in  itself  a  covetable  and  a  lawful  pleasure  ;  so 
that  it  be  not  sought  and  entertained  out  of  its  own  place. 
It  is  a  promised  pleasure,  the  good  man  (it  is  said)  shall 
be  satisfied  from  himself  t  And  it  is  by  particular  direc- 
tion to  be  testified  to  the  righteous,  the}''  shall  eat  the  fruit 
of  their  own  doings. i  It's  God's  gracious  allowance  to 
them,  which  it  is  a  part  of  gratitude  and  dutifulness  to 
esteem  and  accept ;  yc-a,  and  with  great  admiration  of  the 


k  Prov.  .xiv.  14. 
m  Psal.  xix 


1  Isa.  Ui.  10. 
D  1  Thena.  t, 


Divine  goodness  that  hath  made  and  settled  such  a  con- 
junction between  their  duty  and  their  delight ;  that  hath 
laid  such  laws  upon  them,  as  in  the  keeping  whereof  there 
is  such  reward  ;"'  when  as  they  might  have  been  enjoined 
a  meaner  servitude,  and  by  the  condition  and  kind  of  their 
work,  have  been  kept  strangers  to  any  thing  of  delight 
therein. 

That  thankful  acknowledgment  of  the  bounty  and  good- 
ness of  God  to  them  in  the  very  constitution  of  his  laws 
and  government,  is  become  a  part  of  their  duty,  which 
cannot  be  done  without  previous  relishes  of  the  sweetness 
and  goodness  of  their  other  duty.  They  are  required  in 
every  thing  to  give  thanks."  And  it  is  said,  they  shall  go 
on  in  their  way  as  the  redeemed  of  the  Lord,  with  ever- 
lasting joy  upon  their  heads  ;"  that  they  shall  sing  in  the 
ways  of  the  Lord  ;p  which  cannot  be,  if  they  take  not  no- 
lice  that  the  ways  of  the  Lord  are  pleasantness,  and  all  his 
paths  peace.1  Therefore  you  should  designedl}'  set  your- 
self to  taste  the  goodne.ss  and  delightfulness  of  holy  walk- 
ing. And  to  that  end,  when  you  find  the  blessed  cherish- 
ing warmth  and  vigour  of  God's  gracious  communication 
let  in  upon  you,  enlarging  your  hearts,  making  your  way 
and  work  easy  to  you,  and  helping  you  to  do  with  an 
untoilsome  facility,  what  he  requires  and  calls  for,  and  to 
run  the  way  of  his  commandments ;  so  that  you  can  do 
acts  of  piety,  righteousness,  and  mercy  as  natural  acts, 
borne  up  by  the  power  of  a  steady,  living  principle  acting 
in  you,  (as  it's  said,  they  that  wait  upon  the  Lord  shall 
renew  strength  and  mount  up  with  wings  as  eagles,  run 
without  weariness,  and  walk  without  fainting, f)  you  should 
now  reflect  and  take  notice  how  good  and  pleasant  is  this! 
Make  your  pauses  and  deliberate  ;  have  your  seasons  of 
respiration  and  drawing  breath ;  and  then  bethink  your- 
self, commune  thus  with  your  own  heart,  "  How  do  I  now 
like  the  way  and  service  of  the  Lordl  and  a  life  of  pure 
devotedness  lo  him  1  a  course  of  regular  Avalking  in 
thorough  subjection  to  his  laws  and  government  1  and 
that  the  course  of  my  actions  be  as  a  continual  sacrificing; 
doing  all  to  him,  and  for  himl"  What,  do  you  not  now 
rejoice  that  you  find  yourselves  to  ofler  willing]}^  ?  Can 
3'ou  forbear  wiih  gratitude  and  joy  to  acknowledge  and 
own  it  to  him,  that  it  is  of  his  own  hand  that  you  do  this? 
You  should  now  compare  your  present  with  your  former 
state  and  temper,  and  consider  how  much  better  it  is  to 
me  to  live  in  his  fear,  love,  and  communion,  than  to  be,  as 
once  I  was,  alienated  from  the  life  of  God,  and  as  without 
him  in  the  world !  Now  I  can  trust  and  obey,  once  I 
could  not.  Now,  when  the  opportunity  invites,  I  am  in 
some  readiness  to  serve  him,  created  to  good  works,  a  ves- 
sel fitted  to  my  Master's  use  ;  some  time  I  was  to  every 
good  work  reprobate.  Surely  it  is  most  becoming  to  take 
a  free  complacency  in  this  blessed  change.  That  is,  not 
with  a  proud,  pharisaical  gloriation  to  say,  "God,  I  thank 
thee,  I  am  not  as  other  men  ;"  or,  trusting  in  yourself  that 
you  are  righteous,  to  despise  others ;  but  with  a  mean  es- 
timation of  yourself,  and  all  you  can  do ;  and  with  that 
deep  and  coiistant  sense,  that  when  you  have  done  all  you 
can,  you  are  an  unprofitable  servant,  you  do  but  your 
duty.  Yet  blessing  God  that  since  he  hath  made  such 
things  your  duty,  he  also  doth  in  some  measure  enable 
you  to  do  it ;  that  he  hath  reconciled  and  attempered  your 
heart  to  your  way  and  work,  and  made  it  pleasant  to  you. 
Not  hypocritically  arrogating  all  to  yourself,  under  the  for- 
mal and  false  show  of  thanksgiving  to  him  ;  or  aiming 
only  more  colourably  to  introduce  a  vain  boast  and  osten- 
tation of  yourself,  in  the  form  of  gratulation  to  God  ;  but 
as  having  a  heart  inwardly  possessed  with  the  humble 
sense,  who  it  is  that  hath  made  you  diflfcr,  not  only  from 
other  men,  but  from  yourself  also. 

8.  And  because  that  disposedness  of  heart  unto  such  a 
course  of  holy  practice,  may  not  be  constantl}-  actual,  and 
equally  sensible  at  all  times,  (that  all  delight  in  the  ways 
of  God  may  not  hereupon  cease,  and  be  broken  ofl^,  which 
in  those  sadder  intervals  cannot  but  suffer  a  great  dimi- 
nution,) you  must  take  heed,  that  as  to  the  distempers  and 
indispositions  you  now  discern  in  your  own  spirit,  you  do 
neither  indulge  yourself  nor  despair  ;  but  take  the  proper 
course  of  redress. 


o  r-aa.  li. 
q  Prov  iij. 


p  Psal.  cxxxriii. 
r  lea.  xl. 


Pakt  II. 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


387 


To  indulge  yourself  in  them  were  mortal.  Then  do-mi 
vou  go  as  a  dead  weight  into  the  mire  and  dirt,  into  the 
depths  of  the  earth,  and  your  swift  and  pleasant  flight  ends 
in  a  heavy  lumpish  fall.  You  should  therefore  bethink 
yourself,  that  if  you  yield  to  a  slothful,  sluggish  temper  of 
spirit,  which  you  now  feel  coming  on  upon  you,  shortly 
you  shall  have  nothing  (sensibly)  remaining  loyou  of  your 
religion,  but  the  dead  and  empty  form.  How  waste  and 
desolate  a  thing  will  that  be  !  a  like  thing  as  if  you  come 
into  a  deserted  hou.se  where  3'ou  were  wont  pleasantly  to 
converse  with  most  delectable  friends,  and  you  now  find 
nothing  but  cold  bare  walls.  How  dismal  will  it  be  when 
only  the  same  duties,  the  same  external  frame  and  acts  of 
worship,  remain,  but  the  spirit  of  life  and  power  which  was 
wont  to  breathe  in  them,  is  retired  and  gone  !  And  what, 
will  you  take  up  with  that  delusive  unconversable  shadow, 
or  be  content  to  embrace  the  stiff  and  breathless  carcass 
that  remains  1  You  find  perhaps  your  spirit  sinking  into 
carnality,  an  earthly  temper  of  mind  gradually  seizing  on 
you;  worldly  thoughts,  cares,  desires,  fears,  invading 
your  heart ;  by  the  same  degrees  that  these  come  on,  life 
retires  ;  you  grosv  listless  towards  God  ;  your  heart  is  not 
in  your  religion  as  heretofore ;  you  keep  up  your  fashion 
of  praying,  and  doing  other  duties  which  were  your  former 
wont ;  but  you  languish  in  them.  Can  you  here  be  con- 
tent to  lie  still  and  die  1  and  rather  choose  to  suffer  the 
pains  of  death,  than  of  labour,  by  which  your  soul  might 
yet  live  1  Is  this  a  time  to  roll  yourself  upon  your  sloth- 
ful bed,  and  say,  "  Soul,  take  thine  ease,"  even  upon  the 
pit's  brink"?  Do  not  agree  the  matter  so.  Think  not  of 
making  a  covenant  with  death.  It  is  not  so  gentle  a  thing 
as  your  slothful  temper  makes  you  think.  Account  the 
state  intolerable  wherein  you  are  so  manifestly  tending  to- 
wards it.  Think  not  well  of  yourself  in  your  present  case. 
What  reason  soever  any  have  to  be  pleased  and  delighted 
with  a  course  of  lively  converse  with  God,  and  of  walking 
in  the  Spirit ;  so  much  reason  you  have  to  be  displea.sed 
with  yourself  as  your  case  now  is  ;  to  dislike  and  abhor 
the  present  temper  of  your  own  soul.  If  the  life  of  re- 
ligion, and  its  vigorous  exercises,  be  delightful,  by  that 
very  reason  it  appears  its  faint  and  sickly  languishings  are 
not  so. 

Therefore  know,  that  self-indulgence  is  now  most  un- 
suitable and  dangerous.  Labour  to  awaken  in  yourselves 
some  sense  of  your  condition.  Think,  "Whither  am  I 
going  V  Represent  to  your  own  soul  the  terrors  of  death. 
Admit  the  impression  thereof  Behold  its  frightful  visage, 
and  be  startled  at  it.  Recount  with  )'ourself  what  you 
shall  be  if  God  who  is  your  life  quite  depart ;  if  this  shall 
never  be,  yet  know  that  your  fear  lest  it  should,  is  the 
means  of  3'our  preservation.  And  let  the  apprehension  of 
the  tendency  of  your  distemper  excite  in  you  that  just  and 
seasonable  fear.  How  sure  soever  you  are  of  the  principle 
thai  God  will  never  utterly  forsake  those  that  are  his,  (as 
most  certainly  he  never  will,)  yet  you  cannot  be  so  sure  of 
your  application  of  it  to  yourself,  as  your  case  stands,  but 
that  there  will  now  be  room  for  this  fear  ;  therefore  let  it 
be  entertained. 

But  though  you  admit  a  just  and  very  solicitous  fear, 
be  sure  that  you  exclude  not  hope;  though  you  apprehend 
your  case  to  be  dangerous,  look  not  upon  it  as  desperate. 
Your  hope  must  not  be  in  yourself,  but  in  him  that  raises 
the  dead,  and  calleth  things  that  are  not,  as  though  they 
were ;  yea,  makes  them  exist  and  be.  But  if  you  cast 
away  all  hope,  you  yield  yourself  to  perish.  This  stops 
your  breath  ;  so  that  even  all  strugglings  for  life,  and  the 
very  graspings  of  your  fainting  heart,"must  immediately 
cease  and  end  in  perfect  death.  The  danger  of  your  case, 
as  bad  £is  it  is,  calls  not  for  this  ;  nor  will  the  exigency  of 
it  comport  with  it.  When  once  the  soul  says  there  is  no 
hope,«  it  immediately  proceeds  to  say,  I  have  loved  strang- 
ers, and  after  them  will  I  go.  Your  hope  is  as  necessary 
to  your  safety  as  your  fear  ;  we  are  saved  by  hope,'  i.  e. 
of  the  end  itsdf,  which  therefore  animates  16  all  the  en- 
counters and  difficulties  of  our  way,  as  well  from  within 
as  from  without.  Great  distempers  appear  in  you  and 
often  return  ;  yea,  such  as  are  of  a  threatening  aspect  and 
tendency.     You  should  yet  consider  you  are  under  cure ; 


8  Jer.  ii  25. 
u  Paal.  cxxrviii. 


t  Rom.  viii.  2). 
X  Psal.  xlii. 


the  prescribed  means  and  method  whereof  are  before  you. 
There  is  balm  in  Gilead,  and  a  physician  there  :  one  in 
whose  hands  none  that  trusted  him  ever  miscarried.  'Tis 
well  if  you  find  yourself  sick.  The  whole  need  him  not, 
and  will  not  therefore  commit  themselves  to  his  care.  He 
hath  relieved  many  such  a.s  you,  that  apprehending  their 
case,  have  been  restored  to  him:  let  them  despair  that 
know  no  such  way  of  help.  Say  within  yoursell',  though 
I  am  fallen  and  low,  I  shall  rise  and  stand,  renewed  by 
thee,  O  my  God.  Was  there  never  such  a  time  with  you 
before,  when  in  the  like  case  you  cried  to  the  Lord  and 
he  answered  you,  and  strengthened  you  with  strength  in 
your  souH  "  Say  within  yourself,  "Why  art  thou  cast 
down,  O  my  soul,  hope  thou  in  God  ;  for  I  shall  yet 
praise  him,  who  is  the  health  of  my  countenance  (where 
health  shows  itself  in  lively,  sprightly,  pleasant  looks)  and 
my  God."»  And  this  very  hope,  as  it  preserves  life,  so  it 
doth  the  delight  and  pleasure  of  life  from  being  quite  ex- 
tinct. The  joy  of  hope  is  not  to  go  for  nothing,  when  it 
can  only  be  said,  not,  it  is  well,  but  it  shall  be.  It  is 
pleasant  to  consider  that  the  state  wherein  saints  on  earth 
are,  is  a  state  of  recovery  ;  that  though  it  be  not  a  state  of 
perfect  health,  yet  it  is  not  (also)  a  state  of  death  ;  but 
wherein  they  are  tending  to  life  in  the  perfection  of  it. 
And  their  frequent  (and  very  faulty)  relapses  shall  be 
foimd  but  to  magnify  the  more  the  skill  and  patience  of 
their  great  Physician.  Therefore,  however  you  are  not 
hence  to  be  secure,  or  imposing  upon  him;  yet  let  not 
your  hearts  sink  into  an  abject  despair  and  sullen  discon- 
tent, that  you  find  a  distempered  Irame  sometimes  return- 
ing. Let  there  be  tender  releniings  after  God.  Your 
heart  ought  often  to  smite  you,  that  you  have  been  no  more 
careful  and  watchful;  but  not  admit  a  thought  that  you 
will  therefore  cast  off  all ;  that  it's  in  vain  ever  to  strive 
more,  or  seek  to  recover  that  good  frame  that  you  have 
often  found  is  so  soon  gone. 

Instead  of  that,  apply  yourself  with  so  much  the  more 
earnestness  to  the  proper  course  of  remedy  ,  and  therein 
you  must  know  your  own  labour  and  diligence:  your  con- 
tentions with  yourself  must  have  a  great  place;  otherwise 
it  would  never  have  been  said.  Be  watchful,  andstrengthen 
the  things  that  remain,  that  are  ready  to  die.  >'  And  give 
all  diligence  to  add  to  your  faith,  virtue,^  &c.  Such  things 
would  never  have  been  charged  as  duty  upon  you  if  you 
had  nothing  to  do.  You  must  expect  to  be  dealt  with  as 
a  sort  of  creatures  capable  of  understanding  your  own  con- 
cernments ;  not  to  he  hewed  and  hammered  as  senseless 
stones  that  are  ignorant  of  the  artist's  intent,  but  as  living 
ones  to  be  polished  and  fitted  to  the  spiritual  building,  by 
a  hand  that  reasonably  expects  your  own  compliance  and 
co-operation  to  its  known  design.  Unto  which  design, 
though  you  must  know  you  are  to  be  subservient  and  must 
do  something,  j^et  you  must  withal  consider  you  can  be 
but  subservient,  and  of  yourselves  alone  can  do  just  no- 
thing. Therefore,  if  ever  you  would  know  what  a  life  ot 
spiritual  delight  means,  you  must  constantly  strive  against 
all  your  spiritual  distempers  that  obstruct  it,  in  the  power 
of  the  Holy  Ghost.  And  do  not  think  that  is  enjoining 
you  a  course  wholly  out  of  your  power;  for  though  it  be 
true,  that  the  powe'r  of  the  Holy  Ghost  is  not  naturally 
yours,  or  at  your  dispose  ;  yet  by  gracious  vouchsafement 
"and  ordination  it  is.  If  it 'were  not  so,  what  means  that 
exhortation.  Be  strong  in  the  Lord,  and  in  the  power  of 
his  might;"  and  that.  If  we  live  in  the  Spirit,  let  us  also 
walk  in  the  Spirit  ;b  with  the  foregoing  prescription  of 
walking  in  the  Spirit,  that  we  might  not  fulfil  the  lusts  of 
the  flesii.c  Doth  the  Holy  Ghost  himself  prescribe  to  us 
impertinently,  in  order  to  our  obtaining  of  his  own  im- 
parted influences  ?  Doth  he  not  know  the  method  and 
way  wherein  they  are  to  be  conveyed?  or  would  he  de- 
ceive us  by  misrepresenting  if?  In  short,  walking  in  the 
Spirit  must  signify  .something  ;  and  what  can  it  signify  less 
than  dependence  on  its  power,  and  the  subjection  thereto, 
with  the  continuance  of  both  these  ?  These  therefore  are 
necessary  to  the  making  of  that  power  our  own  : 

1.  Dependence  and  trust;  as  that  like  phrase  imports, 
I  will  go  in  the  strength  of  the  Lord  God.'i  &c.  And  that, 
I  will  strengthen  them  in  the  Lord,  and  they  shall  walk  up 


V  Rpv. 

b  c.al. 


z  2  Pet.  i. 
c  Wet.  16. 


a  Kph.  vi.  10. 
d  P^al.  ixxi.  16. 


388 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


Part  II 


and  down  in  his  name,'  at  once  shows  us  both  the  com- 
munication of  the  Divine  power,  "  I  will  strengthen  them 
in  the  Lord,"  and  the  way  wherein  it  is  communicated, 
their  walkiiiij  up  and  down  in  his  name,  viz.  in  actual  and 
continued  dependence  thereon.  The  blessed  God  hath 
settled  this  connexion  between  our  faith  and  his  own  ex- 
erted power.  As  the  extraordinary  works  of  the  Spirit 
were  not  done,  but  upon  the  exercise  of  the  extraordinary 
faith,  which  by  the  Divine  constitution  was  requisite  there- 
unto; so  that  the  infidelity  which  stood  in  the  privation  of 
this  faith,  did  sometimes  (so  inviolable  had  that  constitu- 
tion made  that  connexion)  in  a  sort  bind  up  the  power  of 
God,  and  he  could  do  no  mighty  works  there, f — and  he 
marvelled  because  of  their  unbelief.  Why  could  not  we 
cast  him  out  ■?  Because  of  your  unbelief.?  Nor  also  are 
the  works  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  that  are  common  upon  all 
sincere  Christians,  done,  but  upon  the  intervening  exercise 
of  that  more  common  faith. i>  Therefore  is  this  shield  to  be 
taken  above  all  the  other  parts  of  the  Divine  armature,  as 
sufficient  to  quench  all  the  fiery  darts  of  the  wicked ;  there- 
fore are  we  said  to  be  kept  by  the  power  of  God  through 
faith, i  and  more  expressly  in  terms  to  our  present  purpose; 
we  are  to  receive  the  promise  of  the  Spirit,  {i.  e.  the  Spirit 
promised)  through  faith. k  Hereby  we  draw  the  power  of 
that  Almighty  Spirit  into  a  consent  and  co-operation  with 
our  spirit.  So  the  great  God  suffers  himself;  his  own  arm 
and  power,  to  be  taken  hold  of  by  us.  He  is  engaged 
when  he  is  trusted  ;  that  trust  being  now  in  this  case,  not 
a  rash  and  unwarrantable  presuming  upon  him,  but  such 
whereto  he  hath  given  the  invitation  and  encouragement 
himself  So  that  when  we  reflect  upon  the  promises 
wherein  the  gift  of  the  Spirit  is  conveyed,  or  wherein  the 
express  grant  thereof  is  folded  up,i  we  may  say.  Remem- 
ber thy  word  to  thy  servant,  wherein  thou  hast  caused  me 
to  hope.™ 

And  then  surely  he  v/ill  not  frustrate  the  expectation 
which  he  hath  himself  been  the  author  of.  He  would 
never  have  induced  those  to  trust  inhiin,  whom  he  intend- 
ed to  disappoint.  That  free  Spirit,  which  (as  the  wind 
blows  where  it  listeth)  now  permits  itself  to  be  brought 
under  bonds,  even  in  the  bonds  of  God's  own  covenant, 
whereof  we  now  take  hold  by  our  faith  ;  so  that  he  will 
not  fail  to  give  forth  his  influence,  so  far  as  shall  be  ne- 
cessary for  the  maintaining  a  resolution  in  us  of  steadfast 
adherence  to  God  and  his  service,  and  retaining  a  domi- 
nion over  undue  inclinations  and  affections.  How  ex- 
press and  peremptory  are  those  words.  This  I  say,  (q-  d.  I 
know  what  I  say,  I  have  well  weighed  the  matter,  and 
speak  not  at  random,)  "  Walk  in  the  Spirit,  and  ye  shall 
not  fulfil  the  lusts  of  the  flesh !"  And  so  much  as  this 
affords  great  matter  of  rational  delight,  though  more  sen- 
sible transports  (which  are  not  so  needful  to  us,  and  in  re- 
ference whereto  the  Spirit  therefore  retains  its  liberty)  be 
not  so  frequent.  Therefore  if  we  aim  at  the  having  our 
spirits  placed  and  settled  in  the  secret  of  the  Divine  pre- 
sence, entertained  with  the  delights  of  it ;  if  we  would 
know  and  have  the  sensible  proof  of  that  religion  which  is 
all  life  and  power,  and  consequently  sweetness  and  plea- 
sure ;  our  direct  way  is  believing  on  the  Spirit.  That  very 
trust  is  his  delight,  he  taketh  pleasure  in  them  that  hope  in 
his  mercy."  It  is  that  whereby  we  give  him  dirine  honour, 
the  homage  and  acknowledgment  proper  to  a  Deity;  con- 
fessing ourselves  impotent  and  insufficient  to  think  any 
thing  as  of  ourselves,"  we  rely  upon  his  sustaining  hand, 
and  own  our  sufficiency  to  be  of  him.  It  is  his  delight  to 
be  depended  on  as  a  father  by  his  children.  He  is  pleased 
that  title  should  be  given  him,  the  Father  of  spirits.?  To 
have  the  spirits  which  are  his  offspring  gathering  about 
him,  (especially  those  who  being  revolted  from  him  and 
become  sensible  of  their  misery  by  their  revolt,  do  now 
upon  his  invitation  apply  themselves,  and  say,  "  Lo,  now 
w-e  come  to  thee,  thou  art  the  Lord  our  God,")  craving 
his  renew-ed  communications,  drawing  vital  influences 
from  him,  and  the  breath  of  life,  adoring  his  boundless 
fulness  that  filleth  all  in  all.  And  when  we  thus  give  mm 
his  delight,  v/e  snail  not  long  want  ours.  But  then  we 
must  also  add. 


0  Zech.  X.  12.  f  Mark  vi.  5,  C. 
li  Eph.  \i.  IS.  i  1  Pet.  i. 

1  Prof.  i.  23.  K/ek.  rxxvi.  V.  w'h  many  the  like. 


?  Matt.  Tvii.  19,  50. 
k  Gal.  iii.  14. 
m  Paal.  qtit. 


2.  Subjection  to  our  dependance;  a  willing,  obedient 
surrender  and  resignation  of  ourselves  to  the  conduct  and 
guidance  of  that  blessed  Spirit.  A  dutiful  yielding  to  his 
dictates,  so  as  that  they  have  actually  with  us  the  govern- 
ing, binding  force  and  power  of  a  law,  the  law  of  the  Spirit 
of  life  in  Christ,  as  it  is  called. i  Great  care  must  be  taken 
of  grieving''  and  quenching^  the  Spirit,  of  rebelling  and 
vexing  it,'  of  resisting  it"  and  of  striving  against  it,''  (which 
appears  to  have  been  the  horrid  crime  of  the  old  world  ;  his 
Spirit  it  is  intimated  had  striven,  when  it  is  said  it  should 
no  longer  strive  ;  and  that  it  had  striven,  implies  a  counter- 
striving  that  was  now,  by  his  penal  retirement,  permitted  to 
be  victorious,  but  to  their  own  sudden  ruin,)ofdespitingthe 
Spirit  of  grace,  y  A  wickedness  aggravated  by  the  very 
style  and  title  there  given  it,  the  Spirit  of  grace  ;  and  unto 
which  only  such  a  vengeance  (as  it  is  intimated  in  what  fol- 
lows) which  it  peculiarly  belonged  to  God  himself  to  in- 
flict could  be  proportionable.  When  we  permit  ourselves 
entirely  to  the  government  of  the  Holy  Ghcst,  thereby  to 
have  our  spirits  and  ways  framed  and  directed  according 
to  his  own  rules,  his  quickening  influence,  and  the  pleasure 
and  sweet  relishes  thereof,  will  not  be  withheld.  And  if 
the  experience  of  some  Christians  seem  not  constantly  to 
answer  this,  who  complain  they  pray  often  for  the  Spirit, 
and  desire  earnestly  his  gracious  communications,  but  find 
little  of  them,  they  are  concerned  seriously  to  reflect,  and 
bethink  themselves,  whether  their  distrust  or  disobedience, 
or  both,  have  not  made  them  desolate.  Surely  we  are  al- 
together faulty  in  this  matter ;  his  promise  and  faithfulness 
do  not  fail,  his  Spirit  is  not  straitened.  But  we  either  dc 
not  entirely  commit  and  intrust  ourselves  to  his  guidance, 
or  we  obediently  comply  not  with  it;  but  either  indulge 
our  sluggishness  and  neglect,  or  our  contrary  inclinations, 
and  resist  his  dictates  ;  are  intractable  and  wayward,  not 
apt  to  be  led  by  the  Spirit,  and  hence  provoke  him  to  with- 
draw from  us.  Hereto  we  are  in  justice  to  impute  it  that 
we  find  so  little  of  that  power  moving  in  us,  all  the  motions 
whereof  are  accompanied  with  so  much  delight. 

2.  For  excitation.  Little  one  would  think  should  be 
needful  to  be  said  more  than  only  that  we  would  bethink 
ourselves,  what  all  this  while  we  have  been  directed  to  and 
are  b}^  this  text.  If  that  be  once  understood,  hath  it  not 
in  itself  invitation  enough  1  Do  we  need  further  to  be  in- 
vited to  a  life  of  delight  1  Do  we  need  to  be  pressed  wdth 
arguments  to  choose  delightful  and  wholesome  food,  rather 
than  gall  and  wormwood,  or  even  very  poison  1  It  is  a 
sad  argument  of  the  deplorate  state  of  man  that  he  should 
need  arguments  in  such  a  case  !  But  because  (moreover) 
much  is  to  be  said  hereafter,  to  persuade  unto  delighting 
in  God  considered  in  the  stricter  notion  of  it,  and  that  will 
also  be  applicable  to  this  purpose ;  therefore  little  is  in- 
tended to  be  said  here.  Only  it  is  to  be  considered,  do 
you  intend  to  proceed  in  any  course  of  religion,  or  nol 
If  not,  you  are  to  be  remitted  to  such  discourses  as  prove 
to  you  the  reasonableness  and  necessity  of  it;  which  if 
yoti  think  nothing  you  meet  with  sufficiently  proves,  think 
with  yourself  how  well  you  can  prove,  that  there  is  no 
God,  and  that  you  are  no  man,  but  a  perishing  beast.  For 
these  things  they  are  concerned  not  fondly  to  presume  and 
wish,  but  most  clearly  and  surely  to  demonstrate,  who  will 
be  of  no  religion.  But  if  you  think  that  horrid,  and  re- 
solve to  own  something  or  other  of  religion  ;  will  you  here 
use  your  understanding,  and  consider,  is  it  indeed  so 
horrid  a  thing  to  disavow  all  religion  1  And  what  is  it 
better  to  pretend  to  it  to  no  purpose"?  You  find  the  re- 
ligion is  all  but  show  and  shadow,  mere  empty  vanity  and 
mockery,  which  is  not  delightful.  If  you  will  not  choose 
a  better^  because  it  is  delightful,  (as  you  are  not  advised 
to  do  for  that  as  your  chief  reason,)  yet  at  least  choose  that 
which  is  so,  because  it  is  in  other  more  considerable  re- 
spects eligible,  as  being  most  honourable  and  pleasing  to 
him  that  made  you,  and  only  sate  and  profitaoie  to  your- 
self And  what  shall  your  religion  serve  for,  that  will  net 
answer  these  purposes  1  And  if  you  be  not  ashamed  to 
spend  so  considerable  a  part  of  the  time  of  your  life,  as 
the  exercises  of  your  religion  will  take  up,  in  doing  thai 
(as  was  said  before)  whereof  jou  can  give  co  account;  yet 


n  Psal   rxlv-ii.  11. 

o2  Cor.  iii. 

p  Her),  rii. 

q  Iloiii.  viii 

r  Epti.  iv. 

5  1  ThesR.  V. 

t  Isa.  Ixiii 

u  Acta  vfi. 

X  Gen.  \i. 

y  Heb.  x.  29. 

Part  II. 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


389 


methinks  you  should  be  afraid  to  make  such  things  the  sub- 
ject of  _vour  vanity,  as  do  relate  to  God,  either  really  or  in 
your  opinion.  Can  you  find  nothing  wherein  vainly  to  tri- 
fle, but  the  sacred  things  of  the  great  God  of  heaven,  and 
the  eternal  concernments  of  your  own  soul  1  And  shall  the 
time  sj)ent  about  these  matters  be  peculiarly  marked  out 
as  your  idle  time,  wherein  you  shall  be  doing  that  only 
which  shall  wholly  go  for  loss  and  signify  nothing  *?  The  re- 
ligion which  is  not  delightful  can  turn  to  no  better  account. 

If  therefore  you  will  have  a  religion,  and  you  hav'e  any 
reason  for  that  resolution,  by  the  same  reason  you  would 
have  any,  you  must  have  the  pleasant  xlelighlful  religion 
we  speak  of  You  have  no  other  choice.  There  is  no 
other  will  serve  your  turn.  And  therefore  what  hath  been 
said  to  divert  you  from  the  other,  ought  to  persuade  you  to 
the  choice  of  this.  And  besides,  since  there  is  so  much  of 
secret  delight  in  true  substantial  religion,  that  ought  not 
to  signify  nothing  with  you.  If  we  did  consider  the  de- 
lightfulness  of  it  alone,  upon  that  single  account,  it  surely 
challenges  the  preference,  before  that  which  is  neither  pro- 
fitable nor  delightful.  And  that  it  is  in  itself  so  delightful, 
if  you  had  nothing  to  inform  you  but  the  report  of  such  as 
profess  to  have  tried  and  found  it  so,  methinks  that  at 
least  should  provoke  you  to  try  also.  How  sluggish  a  tem- 
per doth  it  argue,  not  to  be  desirous  to  know  the  utmost 
that  is  in  it !  It  were  even  a  laudable  curiosity  to  resolve 
upon  making  trial ;  to  get  into  the  inmost  centre  of  it ;  to 
pierce  and  press  onward  till  3'ou  reach  the  seat  of  life,  till 
you  have  got  the  secret,  and  the  very  heart  of  religion  and 
your  heart  do  meet  and  join  in  one.  Did  you  never  try 
experiments  for  your  pleasure  1  Try  this  one.  See  what 
you  will  find  in  withdrawing  yourself  from  all  things  else, 
and  becoming  entirely  devoted  to  God  through  the  Re- 
aeeraef,  to  live  after  his  will  and  in  his  presence.  Try  the 
difference  between  viewing  truths  to  please  your  genius, 
or  using  divine  ordinances  to  keep  up  the  custom,  to  con- 
form yourselves  to  those  you  live  among,  and  help  to  make 
a  solemn  show  ;  and  doing  these  things  with  a  serious  de- 
sign to  get  into  an  acquaintance  witn  God,  to  have  your 
soul  transformed  into  his  image,  that  you  may  have  pre- 
sent and  eternal  fellowship  with  him.  Try  how  much 
better  it  is,  to  have  your  lives  governed  by  an  awful  and 
dutiful  respect  to  God,  than  to  follow  your  own  wild  and 
enormous  inclinations ;  and  whether  it  be  not  better,  what 
good  things  soever  you  do,  to  do  it  for  the  Lord's  sake, 
than  from  base  and  sordid  motives. 

And  why  should  you  be  of  so  mean  and  abject  a  spirit, 
as  to  content  yourself  to  be  held  at  the  door  and  in  the 
outer  courts  of  religion,  when  others  enter  in  and  taste  the 
rich  pi'ovisions  of  God's  house  1  Why  will  you  distin- 
guish yourselves  by  so  debasing  a  character  1  'Tis  a  just 
and  commendable  ambition,  to  be  as  forward  here  as  the 
best.  Why  will  you  suffer  this  and  that  and  the  other  man 
to  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God  before  you  ;  even  that 
kingdom  which  consists  in  righteousness,  peace,  and  joy 
in  the  Holy  Ghost !  Think  not  so  meanly  of  yourself;  im- 
pose not  on  yourself  that  needless  unwarrantable  modesty, 
as  to  account  you  are  of  a  lower  rank  than  all  that  ever 
became  intimately  acquainted  with  the  hidden  delights  of 
a  godly  life.  At  least  you  are  as  capable  of  being  thought 
worthy  as  any,  for  his  sake  upon  whose  account  all  must 
be  accepted.  Therefore  think  with  yourselves.  Why 
should  I  not  labour  to  attain  as  far  in  the  matter  of  reli- 
gion, as  this  or  that  neighbour  of  mine  1  What  should 
hinder  1     Who  restrains  or  forbids  me  1 

But  you  cannot,  if  you  consider,  but  have  somewhat 
more  to  assure  you  of  the  delight  fulness  of  it,  than  the 
mere  report  of  others ;  for  your  own  reason  and  conscience 
cannot  but  so  pronoimce,  if  you  go  to  the  particulars  that 
have  been  instanced  in.  If  you  acknowledge  a  God,  and 
consider  yourself  a  reasonable  creature  made  by  him, 
and  depending  on  him;  you  cannot  but  see,  it  is  congru- 
ous and  fit  your  spirit  should  be  so  framed  and  affected 
towards  him,  towards  yonr  fellow-creatures  of  vour  own 
order,  and  all  things  else  that  do  and  shall  circumstantiate 
your  present  and  future  state,  as  hath  been  in  some  measure 
(though  very  defectively)  represented  ;  and  that  it  must 
needs  be  very  pleasant,  if  it  were  so.  You  can  frame  in 
your  mind  an  idea  of  a  life  transacted  according  to  such 
rectified  i;i  linations.  And  when  you  have  done  so,  do 
29 


but  solemnly  appeal  to  your  own  judgment  whether  that 
were  not  a  very  delectable  life,  and  thereupon  bethink 
yourself  what  your  case  is,  if  you  cannot  actually  relish  a 
pleasure  in  what  your  own  judgment  tells  you  is  so  highly 
pleasurable.  Methinks  you  should  reflect  thus,  "  What  a 
monstrous  creature  am  I,'thal  confess  that  delightful  where- 
in I  can  take  no  dcli<.'ht !  How  perverse  a  nature  have  I! 
Surely  things  are  much  out  of  order  with  me:  I  am  not 
what  I  should  be  !"  And  one  would  think,  it  should  be 
uneasy  to  you  to  be  as  you  are ;  and  that  your  spirit  should 
be  restless  till  you  find  your  temper  rectified,  and  that  you 
are  in  this  respect  become  what  you  should  be.  And  will 
you  dream  and  slumber  all  your  days  ?  How  much  time 
have  you  lost,  that  might  have  been  pleasantly  spent  in  a 
course  of  godliness  !  Do  you  not  aim  at  a  life  of  eternal 
delights  with  God  !  If  you  now  begin  not  to  live  to  God, 
when  will  you"?  That  life  which  you  reckon  shall  never 
end  with  you,  must  yet  have  a  beginning.  Will  you  defer 
till  you  die  your  beginning  to  live  1  Have  you  any  hope, 
God  will  deal  in  a  peculiar  way  with  you  from  all  men,  and 
make  the  other  world  the  place  of  your  first  heart-change  1 
How  dismal  should  it  be  to  you,  to  look  in  and  still  find  your 
heart  dead  towards  God,  and  the  things  of  God  ;  so  that 
you  have  no  delight  in  them.  Think  what  the  beginnings 
of  the  divine  life,  and  the  present  delights  of  it,  must  be 
the  earnest  of  to  you,  and  make  sure  the  ground  (belime) 
of  so  great  a  hope. 

II.  But  I  forbear  here  to  insist  further,  and  pass  on  to 
the  discourse  of  delighting  in  God,  under  the  other  more 
strict  notion  of  it,  viz.  as  the  very  act  of  delight  hath  its 
direct  exercise  upon  himself.  So  we  are  to  consider  this 
delight,  not  as  a  thing  some  way  adherent  to  all  other  du- 
ties of  religion  ;  but  as  a  distinct  duty  of  itself,  that  re- 
quires a  solemn,  and  direct  application  of  ourselves  there- 
unto. For  though  it  seems  little  to  be  doubted,  but  there 
is  in  this  precept  a  part  of  religion  put  for  the  whole, 
(as  having  a  real  influence,  and  conferring  with  its  name 
a  grateful  savour  and  tincture  upon  the  whole,)  it  would 
yet  be  very  unreasonable,  not  to  take  special  notice  of  that 
ipart  from  whence  the  entire  frame  of  religion  hath  its 
name.  And  having  shown  the  nature  of  this  duty  alrea- 
dy in  the  former  Part,  what  is  now  to  he  said,  must  more 
directly  concern  the  practice  of  it;  and  will  (as  the  case 
requires)  fall  into  two  kinds  of  discourse,  viz.  expostula- 
tion concerning  the  omission  and  disuse  of  such  practice, 
and  invitation  thereunto.  And  in  both  these  kinds  it  is  re- 
quisite we  apply  ourselves  to  two  sorts  of  persons,  viz. 
such  whose  spirits  are  wholly  averse  and  alien  to  it,  and 
.such  as,  though  not  altogether  unpractised,  are  very  defec- 
tive in  it,  and  neglect  it  too  much. 

1.  Both  sorts  are  to  be  expostulated  with  ;  and  no  doubt 
the  great  God  hath  a  just  quarrel  with  mankind  (whom 
these  two  sorts  do  comprehend)  upon  the  one  or  the  other 
of  these  accounts  ;  wherein  it  is  fit  we  should  plead  with 
men  for  his  sake  and  their  own.     And, 

1.  With  the  former  sort.  Them  who  are  altogether  dis- 
affected to  God,  alienated  and  enemies  in  their  minds 
through  wicked  works,  and  (excepting  such  as  deny  his 
being,  with  whom  we  shall  not  here  concern  ourselves)  at 
the  utmost  distance  from  delighting  in  him.  And  as  lo 
such,  our  expostulation  should  aim  at  their  conviction, 
both  of  the  matter  of  fact,  that  thus  the  case  is  with  them, 
and  of  the  great  iniquity  and  evil  of  it. 

First,  It  is  needful  we  endeavour  to  fasten  upon  such  a 
conviction,  that  this  is  the  state  of  their  case.  For  while 
his  being  is  not  flatly  denied,  men  think  it  generally  cre- 
ditable, to  be  professed  lovers  of  God ;  and  reckon  it  so 
odious  a  thing  not  to  be  so,  that  they  who  are  even  most 
deeply  guilty,  are  not  easily  brought  to  confess  enmity  to 
him;  "but  flatter  themselves  in  their  own  eyes,  till  their  ini- 
quity be  found  to  be  hateful.  The  difficulty  of  making 
such  apprehend  themselves  diseased,  that  their  minds  are 
under  the  power  of  this  dreadful  distemper,  that  it  is  not 
well  with  their  spirits  in  this  respect,  is  the  ereat  obstruc- 
tion to  their  cure.  But  I  suppose  you  to  whom  I  now  ap- 
ply mvself  to  acknowledge  the  Bible  to  be  God's  word,  and 
that  von  profess  reverence  to  the  truth  and  authority  of 
that  word,  and  will  yield  to  be  tried  by  it. 

1.  Therefore,  first,  3'ou  must  be  supposed  such  as  believe 
the  account  true,  which  that  book  gives  of  thecomlnon  state 


390 


OP  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


Part  II. 


of  man  ;  that  it  is  a  state  of  apostacy  from  God ;  that  the 
Lord  looking  down  from  heaven  upon  the  children  of  men, 
to  see  if  any  did  understand  and  seek  God,  finds  they  are 
all  gone  aside,  ^  i.  e.  (that  the  return  may  answer  to  the 
meaning  of  the  inquiry)  gone  off  from  him.  Every  one 
of  them  is  gone  back,  '^  or  revolted,  as  it  is  expressed  in 
the  parallel  psalm.  There  is  none  that  doeth  good,  no  not 
one:  b which  is  quoted  by  the  apostle  to  the  intent,  that 
every  month  may  be  stopped,  and  the  whole  world  may 
become  guilty  before  God.  ■=  This  is  then  a  common  case. 
And  as  the  same  apostle  charges  it  upon  the  Gentiles,  that 
they  were  haters  of  God  ;  d  so  doth  our  Saviour  as  express- 
ly on  the  Jews,  (who  no  doubt  thought  themselves  as  in- 
nocent of  this  crime  as  you,)  that  "they  had  both  seen  and 
hated  both  him  and  his  Father."  And  when  it  is  said  of 
men,  that  they  were  by  nature  the  children  of  wrath,  (they 
to  whom  he  writes  even  as  others,)  do  you  think  that  is 
spoken  of  any  lovers  of  God,  as  their  present  state  1  Or 
that  when  all" by  nature  are  children  of  wrath,  any  are  by 
nature  lovers  of  him,  so  as  to  love  him  and  be  under  his 
wrath  both  at  once  1  It  is  likely  then,  that  against  so  plain 
evidence,  while  you  confess  yourselves  men,  you  will  not 
deny  you  were  sometimes  haters  of  God.  Weil  then,  is  the 
case  altered  with  you  1  It  is  a  convicliim  against  you, 
that  you  are  of  human  race,  till  it  can  be  evidenced  you 
are  born  from  above,  and  are  become  new  creatures.  And 
what,  do  you  find  this  1  It  is  not  expected  you  should  be 
able  to  tell  the  very  moment  when  you  ceased  from  your 
enmity  against  God,  and  became  his  friends  ;  or  give  a 
punctual  account  of  every  turn  or  motion  of  thoughts  in 
such  a  change:  but  it  is  to  be  supposed,  the  work  was  not 
done  upon  you  in  your  sleep,  so  as  that  you  could  have  no 
animadversion  of  what  was  doing.  However,  comparing 
what  you  sometime  were  with  what  you  are,  what  difl^er- 
ence  do  you  observe  1  What,  were  you  sometimes  haters 
of  God,  and  are  you  now  come  to  love  and  delight  in  him 
without  perceiving  in  yourselves  any  difference  1  Bethink 
yourselves,  is  not  the  temperof  your  spirits  just  such  God- 
ward  as  it  was  always  wont  to  be,  without  any  remarkable 
turn  or  alteration  1  That  is  a  shrewd  presumption  against 
you,  that  your  case  is  most  deplorable.     But, 

2.  What  is  your  present  temper,  in  itself  considered  ? 
You  do  love  God  and  delight  in  him,  how  do  you  make  it 
appear  1  wherein  doth  tliat  friendly  and  dutiful  affection 
towards  him  evidence  itself  7  Sure  love  and  hatred  are 
not  all  one  with  you.  Whereby  would  you  discern  your 
hatred  towards  one  you  did  most  flatly  and  peremptorily 
disaffect  1  You  would  dislike  the  thoughts  of  him,  hate 
his  memory,  cast  him  out  of  your  thoughts.  Do  you  not 
the  same  way  show  your  disaifeciion  to  God  1  Do  you  not 
find,  that  so  a  wicked  man  (hisenemy)is  branded  and  dis- 
tinguished, God  is  not  in  all  his  thoughts  1  ^  Are  not  they 
who  shall  be  turned  into  hell  described  thus,  the  people 
that  forget  God  ; ''  that  is,  who  willingly  and  of  choice  for- 
get him,  or  from  the  habitual  inclination  of  their  hearts  1 
And  is  not  that  your  case  1  What  could  hinder  you  to 
remember  him  if  you  were  so  disposed  1 

Yea,  but  you  often  forget  your  friends,  or  those  at  least 
to  whom  you  are  sure  you  bear  no  ill  will;  and  what 
friend  would  expect  to  be  in  your  thoughts  1  It's  answered  ; 
but  you  disrelish  not  the  remembrance  of  a  friend.  Do 
you  not  the  thoughts  of  God  1  You  do  not  think  on  your 
absent  friends  while  no  present  occasion  occurs,  to  bring 
them  to  your  remembrance;  but  is  God  absent?  Is  he  far 
from  any  one  of  us"?  Or  have  you  not  daily  before  your 
eyes  things  enough  to  bring  him  to  mind;  while  his 
glorious  works  surround  you,  and  you  live,  move,  and 
have  your  being  in  him,  and  your  breath  is  in  his 
hand  1  Have  you  that  dependance  on  any  friend  1  Are 
you  under  so  much  obligation  to  anyl  You  often  do  not 
think  on  friends  with  whom  you  have  no  opportunity  to 
converse;  have  you  no  opportunity  to  converse  with  hiral 
Your  friends  can  lay  no  such  law  upon  you,  to  have  them 
much  in  your  thoughts.  It  argues  a  depraved  inclination, 
not  to  do  herein  what  you  ought  and  are  bound  to  do. 
You  cannot  by  the  exercise  of  your  thoughts  obtain  the 
presence  of  a  friend ;  ypu  might  a  most  comfortable  Di- 
vine presence. 

And  w^hat  though  you  think  not  of  many  to  whom  3'ou 

t  Psal.  xiv.  a  Paal.  liii.  b  Rom.  iii.  r  Ver.  19. 


bear  no  ill  will,  nor  have  any  converse  with  many  such ; 
is  it  enough  to  bear  no  ill  will  to  God  ?  Will  that  suffice 
you  to  delighting  in  him  1  are  you  no  more  concerned  to 
mind  God  and  converse  with  him,  than  with  the  man  you 
never  knew  or  had  to  do  with?  Your  unconversableness 
with  God,  and  unmindfulness  of  him,  can  proceed  from 
nothing  but  ill  will,  who  daily  offers  himself  to  your  con- 
verse, who  seeks  and  invites  your  acquaintance,  would 
have  you  inwardly  know  him,  and  lead  your  lives  with 
him.  Why  is  it  that  you  do  not  so,  but  that  you  like  not 
to  retain  him  in  your  knowledge  1  and  that  this  is  the 
sense  and  language  of  your  hearts  towards  him,  "  Depart 
from  us,  we  desire  not  the  knowledge  of  thy  ways  1"  It 
can  proceed  from  nothing  but  ill  will  and  a  disagreeable 
temper,  that  you  shun  the  converse  of  one  that  seeks  yours ; 
that  you  will  take  no  notice  of  one  that  often  oficrs  him- 
selftoyour  view,  one  thatmeets  you  at  every  turn,  and  aims 
to  draw  your  eye,  and  cannot  gain  a  look.  When  this  is 
your  deportment  towards  God,  that  he  passes  by  you,  and 
you  perceive  him  not;  he  compasses  you  about,  t^ehmd 
and  befoie,  and  is  acquainted  with  all  your  ways,  and  with 
him  and  his  wa3's  you  will  have  no  acquaintance,  remain 
alienated  from  the  life  of  God,  and  as  without  him  in  the 
world  ;  is  not  this  downright  enmity  1  Or  can  this  deport- 
ment agree  with  the  habitual  and  the  frequent  actual  de- 
light in  God  which  is  required. 

Again,  would  you  not  be  justly  taken  to  disaffect  one 
whose  temper  is  ungrateful,  whose  disposition  and  way 
is  unpleasing  to  youl  Is  it  not  thus  with  you  God-ward  % 
When  you  hear  of  the  purity  and  holiness  of  his  nature, 
his  abhorrence  of  all  wickedness,  and  how  detestable  to 
him  every  thing  is  that  is  impure,  and  that  he  will  not  en- 
dure it;  do  not  your  hearts  regret  this  quality  (as  we  must 
conceive  of  it)  in  the  nature  of  God  "?  Which  yet,  because 
it  is  his  very  nature,  doth  so  much  the  more  certainly  infer, 
that  a  dislike  of  it  cannot  but  include  disaffection  to  him- 
self, and  that  habitual  and  constant,  since  his  whole  way 
of  dealing  with  men,  and  the  course  of  his  government 
over  the  world,  do  (and  shall  more  discernibly)  savour  of 
it ;  do  they  not  wish  him  hereupon  not  to  be,  in  this  res- 
pect, what  he  is ;  which  is  in  effect,  to  wish  him  not  to  be 
at  all  1  The  same  thing  which  the  heart  of  the  fool  says, 
"No  God  ;"  i.  e.  this  would  please  such  a  one  to  the  very 
heart.  And  doth  this  import  no  enmity  1  Can  this  stand 
with  delight  in  him  ?  Are  you  not  disaffected  to  him, 
whom  not  being  able  to  accuse  of  falsehood,  whom  having 
the  greatest  imaginable  assurances  of  the  impossibility  he 
should  deceive,  you  will  yet  by  no  means  be  induced  to 
trust  %  Consider,  what  doth  your  trust  in  God  signify, 
more  than  the  sound  of  the  name  ?  Doth  it  quiet  your 
heart,  in  reference  to  any  affairs  you  pretend  to  commit  to 
him  ?  Doth  it  purify  it,  and  check  your  ill  inclinations,  in 
any  thing  wherein  they  should  be  countermanded  upon 
the  credit  of  his  word  1  What  doth  his  testimony  concern- 
ing the  future  things  you  have  not  seen,  weigh  with  3'ou, 
to  the  altering  of  your  course,  and  rendering  it  such  as 
may  comport  and  square  with  the  belief  of  such  things  % 
Would  not  the  word  of  an  ordinary  man,  premonishing 
you  of  any  advantage  or  danger  which  you  have  no  other 
knowledge  of,  be  of  more  value  with  you  ?  Constant  sus- 
picion of  any  one,  without  cause  or  pretence,  most  cer- 
tainly argues  radicated  enmity.  You  love  him  not  whom 
you  cannot  trust. 

Do  you  love  him  whom  upon  all  occasions  you  most 
causelessly  displease  ;  "whose  offence  you  reckon  nothing 
of?  Is  that  ingenuous  towards  a  friend,  or  dutiful 
towards  a  father  or  a  lord  ?  How  do  you,  in  this,  carry 
towards  the  blessed  God  1  Are  you  wont  to  displease 
yourselves  to  please  him,  or  cross  your  own  will  to  do  his  1 
Do  you  take  delight  in  him  whom  you  make  no  difficulty  to 
vex  ?  whose  known  declared  pleasure,  though  you  confess 
him  greater,  wiser,  and  more  righteous  than  yourself,  you 
have  no  more  regard  to, wherein  it  crosses  your  own  inclina- 
tion, than  you  would  have  tothatof  your  child,  your  slave, 
or  a  fool  1  Have  you  any  thing  to  except  against  that  mea- 
sure and  character  of  loyal  affection  to  your  Redeemer 
and  Lord,  "  If  ye  love  me,  keep  my  commandments  ;  Ye 
are  my  friends  if  ye  do  whatsoever  I  command  you  ;  This 
is  the  love  of  God,  that  we  keep  his  commandments  ?" 
d  Rom.  i.  30.  e  Psal.  X.  1.  fPsaUix.  U. 


Part  II. 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


391 


Do  you  not  disobey  the  known  will  of  God  in  your  or- 
dinary practice  without  regret  1  Do  you  not  know  it  to  be 
his  will,  that  you  "  strive  to  enter  in  at  the  strait  gate  ;" 
that  you  "  seek  first  the  kingdom  of  heaven ;"  that  you 
"keep  your  heart  with  all  diligence;"  that  you  "deny 
yourself,  crucify  the  flesh,"  be  temperate,  just,  merciful, 
patient  1  Do  you  aim  at  obeying  him  in  these  things  1 
Can  you  say,  Lord,  for  thy  sake  I  refrain  the  things  to 
which  my  heart  inclines  1  Hath  his  proliibition  any  re- 
straining force  upon  your  hearts  I  Do  you  not  allow  j'our- 
self  to  be  licentious,  earthly,  vain,  proud,  wrathful,  re- 
vengeful, though  you  know  it  will  oflend  him '!  and  is  this 
your  love  to  him,  or  delight  in  him  1  Do  you  bear  good 
will  to  him  whose  reproach  and  dishonour  you  are  not 
concerned  for,  yea,  whom  you  stick  not  to  dishonour  and 
reproach  ?  whose  interest  among  men  hath  no  place  in 
your  thoughts,  whose  friends  are  none  of  yours,  whose 
enemies  are  your  friends,  whose  favour  you  care  not  for, 
nor  regret  his  frowns,  whose  worship  is  a  burden  to  you, 
(that  you  had  rather  do  any  thing  than  pray  to  him,)  and  his 
fellowship  an  undesired  thing'!  Make  an  estimate  by  these 
things  of  the  temper  of  your  hearts  towards  God  ;  and 
consider  whether  it  bespeak  delight  in  him,  or  not  rather 
habitual  aversion  and  enmity. 

It  may  be  you  will  admit  these  things  seem  to  carry 
somewhat  of  conviction  with  them;  but  they  concern 
many  that  are  taken  for  godly  persons  and  lovers  of  God, 
as  well  as  they  do  you.  And  it  may  be,  many  such  may 
take  themselves  for  godly  persons  and  lovers  of  God, 
and  be  mistaken  as  well  as  you.  And  what  will  that 
mend  your  case  1  If  these  things  will  prove  a  person  one 
that  hath  no  delight  in  God,  they  equally  prove  it  as  to  you 
and  others,  which  will  make  nothing  to  your  advantage. 
But  if  they  who  have  sincere  love  to  God,  are  in  a  degree 
peccant  against  the  laws  of  such  love,  (as  that  they  are, 
they  will  hear  in  due  time,)  they  are  more  ready  t*  accuse 
themselves  than  other  men  ;  they  abhor  themselves,  that 
they  do  not  more  entirely  delight  in  God,  and  repent  in 
dust  and  ashes.  It  better  becomes  you,  to  imitate  their 
repentance,  than  glory  in  their  sinful  weakness ;  which 
while  they  patronize  not  themselves,  you  should  not  think 
it  can  afford  a  valuable  patronage  unto  you.  When  did 
you  check  and  contend  with  your  own  hearts  upon  these 
accounts,  as  they  are  wont  to  do  1  And  if  these  things, 
in  a  degree  found  with  them,  prove  their  delight  in  God 
imperfect,  their  prevailing  contraries  will  prove  it  (how- 
ever) sincere.  And  if  you  will  not  now  understand  the 
difference,  God  grant  you  may  not  heieafter  at  a  more 
costly  rate,  between  the  imperfection  and  the  total  want  of 
his  love  ;  between  having  your  heart  and  soul  imperfectly 
alive  towards  God,  and  perfectly  dead. 

You  may  further  say,  God  is  out  of  your  sight,  and 
therefore  how  can  it  be  expected  you  should  find  a  sensible 
delight  in  himl  But  is  he  out  of  the  sight  of  your  minds  ? 
If  he  be,  what  would  you  infer,  that  then  you  cannot  de- 
light in  him  at  all,  and  therefore  that  you  do  not  7  the 
thing  that  j'ou  are  charged  with  all  this  while.  But  he 
is  out  of  sight  by  the  high  excellency  of  his  being;  for 
which  reason  he  should  be  delighted  in  the  more,  i.  e.  with 
a  deeper  delight,  though  not  like  that  3'ou  take  in  the 
things  of  sense :  and  he  hath  been  so  beyond  all  things, 
notwithstanding  his  abode  in  that  light  which  is  inacces- 
sible. This  therefore  is  confession  without  excitse ;  and 
would  never  be  offered  as  an  excuse  by  aii)^,  but  those  that 
are  lost  in  flesh  and  sense,  have  forgot  they  have  reason- 
able souls,  and  had  rather  be  numbered  with  brutes  than 
men  ;  as  if  there  were  not  many  things  you  have  not  seen 
with  the  eyes  of  flesh,  more  excellent  than  those  you  have  ! 
or  as  if  you  had  no  other  faculty  than  eyes  of  flesh  to  see 
with  !  Which,  since  you  have,  and  the  depravation  thereof 
is  vicious  and  sinful ;  as  your  not  delighting  in  God  (the 
matter  of  fact)  seems  to  be  yielded,  and  so  you  quit  your 
first  post,  it  will  thence  appear,  that  it  cannot  but  be  sin- 
ful too.  And  since  at  that  you  seem  to  make  a  stand,  (as 
at  your  next  post,)  either  thinking  to  deny  or  extenuate 
the  evil  of  it,  our  expostulation  must  follow  you  thither, 
and  be  aimed, 

2.  To  evince  to  you  the  greatness  and  horridness  of  that 
sin.  Suffer  yourselves  therefore  to  be  reasoned  with  to 
g  Prov.  i. 


this  purpose,  and  consider— First,  That  you  have  some- 
what of  delectation  in  your  natures,  i.  e.  you  have  the 
power  naturally  inherent  m  you,  of  taking  delight  in  one 
thing  or  other.  You  have  such  a  thing  as  love  about  you. 
Are  not  some  things  grateful  and  agreeable  to  you,  in. 
which  you  can  and  do  take  complacency"?  Therefore 
herein  an  act  is  not  enjoined  you  which  is  incompetent  to 
your  natures,  or  simply  impossible  to  you.  Next,  then, 
do  you  not  know,  your  delight  or  love  ought  to  be  placed 
on  some  good  or  other  that  is  known  to  you;  and  among 
things  that  you  know  to  be  good,  proportionably  to  the 
goodness  which  you  find  in  them,  and  supremely  on  the 
best  1  Further,  do  you  not  acknowledge  the  blessed  God 
to  be  the  best  and  most  excellent  goodl  as  being  the  first 
and  fountain-good,  the  fullest  and  most  comprehensive, 
the  purest  and  altogether  unmixed,  the  most  immutable 
and  permanent  good  1  How  plain  and  certain  is  this  ! 
How  manifestly  impossible  is  it,  if  there  were  not  such  a 
good,  that  otherwise  any  thing  else  should  ever  have  been 
good,  or  been  at  all!  Is  not  this  a,s  sure  and  evident  as 
any  thing  your  senses  could  inform  you  of?  Whence  is  the 
glorious  excellency  of  this  great  creation,  the  beaut}',  love- 
liness, pleasantness  of  any  creature  1  Must  not  all  that, 
and  infinitely  more,  be  originally  in  the  great  Creator  of 
all.    This,  if  you  consider,  you  cannot  but  see  and  own. 

While  then  your  hearts  tell  you,  you  delight  not  in 
God,  do  not  your  consciences  begin  to  accuse  and  judge 
you,  that  you  deal  not  righteously  in  this  matter  1  And 
ought  it  not  to  fill  your  souls  with  horror,  when  you  con- 
sider, you  take  no  delight  in  the  best  and  sovereign  good  1 
Yea,  when  you  look  into  your  hearts  and  find,  that  you  not 
only  do  not  delight  in  God,  but  you  cannot ;  and  not  for 
the  want  of  the  natural  power,  but  a  right  inclination  1 
Should  you  not  with  astonishment  bethink  yourselves, 
every  one  for  himself,  "  What  is  this  that's  befallen  me  1 
I  am  convinced  this  is  the  best  good,  every  way  most 
worthy  of  my  highest  delight  and  love,  and  yet  my  heart 
savours  it  not !"  You  can  have  no  pretence  to  say,  that 
because  your  heart  is  disinclined,  therefore  you  are  ex- 
cused, for  you  only  do  not  what  through  an  invincible  dis- 
inclination you  apprehend  you  cannot  do.  But  you  should 
bethink  yourself,  "What  a  wretch  ami,  that  am  so  ill- 
inclined  !"  For  is  not  any  one  more  wicked  according  as  he 
is  more  strongly  inclined  to  wickedness  and  averse  to  what 
is  goodi  But  how  vincible  or  invincible  your  disinclina- 
tion is,  you  do  not  yet  know,  not  having  yet  made  due 
trial.  That  you  cannot  of  yourselves  mercome,  it  is  out  of 
question  ;  but  have  yuu  tried  what  help  might  be  got  from 
heaven,  in  the  use  of  God's  own  prescribed  means  1  If 
that  course  bring  3'ou  in  no  help,  then  ma}-  you  under- 
stand how  much  j'ou  have  provoked  the  Lord.  For  though 
he  hath  promised,  that  for  such  as  turn  at  his  reproof,  he 
will  pour  out  his  Spirit  to  them ;  yet  they  who  when  he 
calls  refuse,  and  when  he  stretches  out  his  hand  regard  not, 
but  set  at  nought  all  his  counsel,  &c.,  may  call  and  not  be 
answered,  may  seek  him  early  and  not  find  hiin.f  And 
that  wickedness  may  somewhat  he  estimated  b}'  this  effect, 
that  thus  it  makes  the  Spirit  of  grace  retire,  that  free,  be- 
nign, merciful  Spirit,  the  Author  of  all  love,  .sweetness 
and  goodness,  become  to  a  forlorn  soul  a  resolved  stranger. 
If  3'ou  are  so  given  up,  you  have  first  given  up  your?:elves; 
you  have  wilfully  cast  him  out  of  your  thoughts,  and 
hardened  your  own  hearts  against  liim,  who  was  the. spring 
of  your  life  and  being,  and  in  w  liom  is  all  your  hope.  And 
whether  this  malignit}'  of  your  hearts  shall  ever  finaltybe 
overcome  or  no,  (as  you  have  no  cause  to  despair  but  it 
may  be  overcome,  if  apprehending  your  life  to  lie  upon  it, 
you  wait  and  strive,  and  pray  and  cry,  as  your  case  re- 
quires,) yet  do  you  not  see  it  to  be  a  fearful  pitch  of  ma- 
lignity'? and  so  much  the  worse  and  more  vicious  by  how 
much  it  is  more  hardly  overcome! 

That  we  may  here  he  a  little  more  particular;  consider, 
1.  How  tumultuous  and  disorderly  a  thingthis  your  dis- 
affection is  1  You  are  here  to  consider  its  direct  tcndenc}',  its 
natural  aptitude,  or  what  it  doth  of  itself,  and  in  its  own 
nature,  lead  and  tend  to.  If  you  may  withdraw  your  de- 
light and  love  from  God,  then  so  may  all  other  men  as 
well.  Therefore  now  view  the  thing  itself  in  the  commoa 
nature  of  it :  and  so,  is  not  aversion  to  delight  in  G<3d  a 


393 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


Part  II. 


manifest  contrariety  to  the  order  of  things!  a  turning  all 
upside  down ']  a  shattering  and  breaking  asunder  the  bond 
between  rational  appetite  and  the  First  Good  1  a  disjoint- 
ing and  unhinging  of  the  best  and  noblest  part  of  God's 
creation  from  its  station  and  rest,  its  proper  basis  and 
centre  1  How  fearful  a  rupture  doth  it  make  !  how  vio- 
lent and  destructive  a  dislocation  !  If  you  could  break  in 
pieces  the  orderly  contexture  of  the  whole  universe  within 
itself,  reduce  the  frame  of  nature  to  utmost  confusion,  rout 
all  the  ranks  and  orders  of  creatures,  tear  asunder  the 
heavens,  and  dissolve  the  compacted  body  of  the  earth, 
mingle  heaven  and  earth  together,  and  resolve  the  world 
into  a  mere  heap;  you  had  not  done  so  great  a  spoil,  as 
in  breaking  the  primary  and  supreme  tie  and  bond  be- 
tween the  creature  and  his  Maker ;  yea,  between  the 
Creator  of  all  things  and  his  more  noble  and  excellent 
creature.  All  the  relations,  aptitudes,  and  inclinations  of 
the  creatures  to  one  another,  are  but  inferior  and  subor- 
dinate to  those  between  the  creatures  and  their  common 
Author  and  Lord :  and  here  the  corruption  of  the  best 
cannot  but  be  worst  of  all.     Again, 

2.  What  an  unnatural  wickedness  is  it !  To  hate  thy 
own  original  I  To  disaffect  the  most  bountiful  Author  of 
thy  life  and  being!  "What  wouldst  thou  say  to  it  if  thy 
own  son  did  hate  the  very  sight  of  thee,  and  abhor  thy  pre- 
sence and  converse  1  especially  if  thou  never  gavest  him  the 
least  cause"?  If  thou  hast  been  always  kind  and  indulgent, 
full  of  paternal  affection  towards  him,  wouldst  thou  not 
think  him  a  vile  miscreant  1  and  reckon  the  earth  too  good 
to  bear  him?  But  how  little,  and  in  how  low  a  capacity, 
didst  thou  contribute  to  his  being  in  comparison  of  what 
the  great  God  did  to  thine  1  How  little  of  natural  excel- 
lency hast  thou  above  him,  (it  may  be  in  many  things  be- 
sides this  unhappy  temper  he  much  excels  thee,)  when  thou 
knowest,  in  thy  Maker  is  infinite  excellency  beyond  what 
thou  canst  pretend  unto !  And  what  cause  canst  thou  pre- 
tend of  disaffection  towards  him ']  Many  good  works  hath 
he  done  for  thee;  for  which  of  these  dost  thou  hate  him  1 
Whereby  hath  he  ever  disobliged  thee  1  With  how  sweet 
and  gentle  allurements  hath  he  sought  to  win  thy  heart  1 
And  is  it  not  most  vilely  unnatural  that  thy  spirit  should 
be  so  sullenly  averse  to  him,  who  is  pleased  to  be  styled 
the  Father  of  spirits'?  And  in  which  respect  it  may  fitly 
be  said  to  thee,  dost  thou  thus  requite  the  Lord,  O  foolish 
creature,  and  unwise  1  Is  not  he  thy  Father  Ih  If  thou 
didst  hate  thy  own  self,  (in  a  sense  besides  that  wherein  it 
is  thy  duty,  and  in  which  kind  thou  hast,  as  thy  case  is,  a 
just  and  dreadful  cause  of  self-abhorrence,)  if  thou  didst 
hate  thy  very  life  and  being,  and  wert  laying  daily  plots  of 
self-destruction,  thou  wert  not  so  wickedly  unnatural.  He 
is  more  intimate  to  thee  than  thou  art  to  thyself.  That  na- 
tural love  which  thou  owest  to  thyself,  and  the  nature 
from  whence  it  springs,  is  of  him,  and  ought  to  be  .sub- 
ordinate to  him ;  and  by  a  superior  law  of  nature,  thy  very 
life,  if  he  actually  require  it,  ought  to  be  sacrificed  and  laid 
down  for  his  sake.  Thy  hatred  towards  him,  therefore,  is 
more  prodigiously  unnatural,  that  if  it  were  most  directly 
and  implacably  bent  against  thyself.  And  yet  also  in 
hating  him  thou  dost  most  mischievous'y  hate  thyself  too; 
and  all  that  thou  dost,  by  the  instinct  of  that  vile  temper 
of  heart  towards  him,  thou  dost  it  against  thy  own  life  and 
soul.  Thou  cuttest  thyself  off  from  him  who  is  thy  life; 
and  art  laying  a  train  for  the  blowing  up  of  thy  eternal 
hope.     All  that  hate  him  love  death.;     Further, 

3.  It  is  the  most  comprehensive  wickedness,  and  which 
entirely  contains  all  other  in  it.  For  as  the  law  of  love  is 
the  universal  and  summary  Jaw,  comprehending  all  duty, 
and  even  as  it  enjoins  love  to  God  ;  (lor  love  to  men  ought 
to  be  resolved  into  that,  and  must  be  for  his  sake;)  so 
must  disaffection  to  God  be  comprehensive  of  all  sin, 
whereinto  every  thing  of  it  resolves  itself.  Dost  thou  not 
see  then  how  thou  cancellest  and  nullifiest  the  obligation 
of  all  laws,  while  thou  hast  no  delight  in  God  7  ofierest 
violence  to  the  very  knot  and  juncture,  wherein  they  all 
meet  and  are  infolded  together"?  Not  to  delight  in  God 
therefore,  what  can  it  be  but  the  very  top  of  rebellion "? 
What  will  thy  sobriety,  thy  justice,  thy  charity  signif}',  if 
thou  hadst  these  to  glory  in,  while  thou  art  habitually  dis- 
affected to  thy  <5od  1    Let  men  value  thee  for  these,  to 

h  Deut.  xxxti.  i  Prov.  vjiL 


whom  thereby  thou  showest  some  respect ;  but  shall  he, 
who  in  the  meantime  knows  thou  bearest  none  to  him  1 

4.  It  is  a  most  reproachful  contemptuous  wickedness ! 
To  him,  I  mean,  whom  it  most  directly  offends  against ! — 
Carries  it  not  in  it  most  horrid  contumely  and  indignity  to 
the  most  high  God  1  It  is  a  practical  denial  of  all  those 
excellencies  in  him,  that  render  and  recommend  him  the 
most  worthy  object  of  our  delight ;  it  is  more  than  saying, 
He  is  not  good.,  holy,  wise,  just,  and  true.  Things  may 
on  the  sudden  be  said  that  are  not  deliberately  thought, 
and  may  be  retracted  the  next  breath ;  but  a  man's  stated, 
constant  course  and  way  signifies,  the  apprehension  it  pro- 
ceeds from  to  be  fixed,  and  that  it  is  the  settled  habitual 
sense  of  his  soul.  Yea,  and  since,  as  hath  been  said,  thou 
delightest  in  other  things  whilst  thou  delightest  not  in  him ; 
it  plainly  imports  it  to  be  the  constant  sense  of  thy  very 
heart,  that  those  things  are  better  than  he.  What  is  it 
then  that  hath  thy  delight  and  lovel  Whereon  is  thy  heart 
setl  Commune  with  thyself  Dost  thou  not  tremble, 
when  thou  findest  this  to  be  thy  very  case,  that  thou  mayst 
truly  say,  "I  can  delight  in  creatures,  but  not  in  God; 
can  take  pleasure  in  my  friend,  but  none  in  him ;  I  must 
confess  it  to  be  the  temper  of  my  heart,  that  I  love  my 
father,  mother,  son,  or  daughter,  more  than  Christ.  Is  it 
not  then  to  be  concluded  from  his  own  express  word,  that 
thou  art  not  worthy  of  him,k  and  canst  be  none  of  his  dis- 
ciple li  Nay,  mayst  thou  not  moreover  truly  say,  that  thou 
lovest  this  base  impure  earth  more  than  God  1  that  thou 
takest  more  delight  in  thy  companions  in  wickedness ;  canst 
more  solace  thyself  with  a  drunkard  on  the  ale-bench, 
with  a  lascivious  wanton,  with  a  profane  scoffer  at  godli- 
ness, than  with  the  blessed  Godl  that  thou  canst  allow 
thy.self  to  riot  with  the  luxurious,  and  eat  and  drink  with 
the  drunken,  and  not  only  do  such  things,  but  take  plea- 
sure in  them  that  do  them,  yea,  and  thyself  take  pleasure 
to  commit  iniquity;  but  in  the  glorious  holy  God  thou 
canst  take  no  pleasure  1  Then  wouldst  thou  be  content  to 
carry  the  plain  sense  of  thy  heart  written  on  thy  forehead, 
and  proclaim  it  to  all  the  world,  as  thy  resolved  practical 
judgment,  that  thou  accountest  thy  friends,  thy  relations, 
this  vile  and  vanishing  world,  thy  wicked  associates,  thine 
own  impure  lusts,  better  than  Godl  And  dost  thou  not 
yet  see  the  horrid  vileness  of  thy  own  heart  in  all  thisl 
Art  thou  yet  a  harmless  innocent  creature,  an  honest  well- 
meaning  man  for  all  this1 

Yea,  wilt  thou  not  see  that  thine  heart  goes  against  thy 
conscience  all  this  while "?  that  thou  disaffectest  him  in 
whom  thou  knowest  thou  shouldst  delight "?  that  the  tem- 
per of  thy  spirit  is  a  continual  affront  to  thy  profession, 
through  the  perfidious  falsehood  and  vanity  whereof,  thou 
dost  but  cover  hatred  with  lying  lips'?  Is  not  that  an  odious 
thing  which  thou  so  seeke.st  to  hide  ;  and  which,  though 
thou  art  not  loth  to  be  guilty  of  it,  thou  art  so  very  un- 
willing should  be  known  1  And  since  thou  art  so  very 
loth  it  should  be  known,  how  canst  thou  hold  up  thy 
head  before  that  eye  that  is  as  a  flame  of  fire,  that  searches 
thy  heart  and  tries  thy  reins,  that  observes  thy  wayward 
spirit,  and  sees  with  how  obstinate  an  aversion  thou  de- 
clinest  his  acquaintance  and  converse  1  Wilt  thou  stand 
before  the  glorious  Majesty  of  heaven  and  earth,  who 
knows  thy  disaffected  heart,  and  say,  it  is  but  a  small 
transgression  thou  hast  been  guilty  of,  in  not  loving  him 
and  making  him  thy  delight  7  Dost  thou  think  this  will 
pass  for  a  little  offence  in  the  solemn  judgment  of  the 
great  day  that  is  drawing  on?  Or  will  thy  heart  endure, 
or  thy  hands  be  strong,  when  the  secrets  of  all  hearts  shall 
be  laid  open,  thou  shalt  stand  convicted  before  his  tribunal 
in  the  sight  of  angels  and  men,  of  having  borne  all  thy 
days  a  false,  disloyal  heart,  full  of  malignity  and  ill  will 
to  thy  Sovereign  Lord,  whom  thou  wast  so  many  ways 
obliged  to  serve  and  cleave  to  with  delight  and  love  1 
When  the  difference  shall  be  visibly  put  between  those 
that  delighted  in  God  and  them  that  never  did,  and  thou 
shalt  be  marked  out  for  one  of  them  that  didst  in  heart 
depart  from  him  all  thy  days,  and  be  thereupon  abandoned 
to  the  society  of  that  horrid  accursed  crew,  in  whom  only 
thou  didst  delight;  surely  thou  wilt  not  then  say,  thy 
transgression  was  small. 

2.  But  we  are  also  to  expostulate  with  another  sort; 
k  Matt.  a.  3T.  1  Luke  xiv.  26. 


Part  IL 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


393 


who,  though  they  are  not  altogether  unacquainted  with  this 
heavenly  exercise  of  dclifjhtin^  in  God,  yet  loo  much  dis- 
use it,  and  apply  not  themselves  to  it  (as  who  do  1)  with  that 
constancy  and  intention  of  soul  as  the  matter  requires. 
And  these  we  are  to  put  upon  the  consideration  of  such 
evils,  as  either  are  included  in  this  neglect,or  are  allied  unto 
it,  (and  do  therefore  accompany  and  aggravate  the  natural 
evil  of  it,)  as  either  causing  it,or  being  caused  by  it.  And, 
I.  Those  whom  we  now  intend  are  to  bethink  themselves, 
■what  evil  is  included  in  their  neglect  of  this  part  of  holy 
practice.  And  you  are  to  judge  of  the  evil  of  it  by  its 
disagreement  with  such  known  and  usual  measures,  as 
whereto  our  practice  should  be  suitable,  and  which  in  rea- 
son and  ju.stice  it  is  to  be  estimated  and  censured  by  ;  as 
for  instance,  the  Divine  law,  conscience,  experience,  obli- 
gation by  kindness,  stipulation,  relation,  profession,  ten- 
dency of  the  new  nature,  dictates  of  God's  Spirit,  the 
course  and  drift  of  his  design  ;  with  all  which  it  will  be 
found  to  have  very  ill  accord. 

I.  How  directly  opposite  is  it  to  the  law  of  God  !  not 
only  to  his  express  written  precept,  but  to  that  immutable, 
eternal  law,  which  arises  from  our  very  natures  referred 
unto  his  !  The  obligingness  orbindingforce  whereof, doth 
not  so  much  stand  in  this.  That  the  thing  to  be  done  is 
such  as  whereto  our  natures  were  originally  inclined; 
(which  yet  is  of  great  weight,  they  having  been  thus  in- 
clined and  determined  by  our  Maker  himself,  so  that  our 
inclination  was  in  this  case  expressiv^e  of  his  will ;)  but 
(which  is  indeed  the  very  reason  of  that,  for  we  must  con- 
ceive the  Divine  wisdom  in  the  blessed  God  to  conduct  all 
the  determinations  of  his  will)  the  natural  unchangeable 
congruity  of  the  thing  itself  And  therefore  as  to  the 
things  Av hose  constant  fitness  w^ould  render  them  matter  of 
duty  to  us  at  all  times,  it  was  provided,  inclinations  suit- 
able to  them  should  be  planted  in  our  natures  from  the 
beginning;  but  things  that  were  to  be  matter  of  duty  but 
for  a  time,  having  only  a  present  fiiness  unto  some  present 
juncture  or  state  of  affairs,  it  was  sufficient  that  the  Divine 
pleasure  should  be  signified  about  them  in  some  way  more 
suitable  to  their  occasional  and  temporary  use,  and  that 
inight  not  so  certainly  extend  to  all  men  and  times. 

That  great  law  of  love  to  God  (which  comprehends  this 
of  delighting  in  him)  is  you  may  be  sure  of  that  former  sort, 
it  being  impossible  there  should  be  a  reasonable  creature 
in  being,  but  it  will  immediately  and  always  be  his  duty 
to  love  God  supremely  and  above  all  things ;  yea,  that  you 
must  know,  is  the  most  fundamental  of  all  such  laws.  And 
therefore  when  because  original  impressions  were  become 
so  obscure  and  illegible  in  our  natures,  it  became  necessa- 
ry there  should  be  a  new  and  more  express  edition  of  them 
in  God's  written  word;  this  is  placed  in  the  very  front  of 
them,  "  Thou  shall  have  no  other  gods  before  me ;"  which 
signifies  only  the  having  of  a  God  in  name  and  no  more, 
if  it  doth  not  signify  loving  him  before  all  other.  Where- 
fore when  our  Saviour  was  to  tell  which  was  the  first  and 
great  commandment,  he  gives  it  thus,  "  Thou  shall  love 
the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thv  heart,  and  with  all  thy  soul, 
and  with  all  thy  mind."'"  The  thing  enjoined  by  this  law 
is  most  substantial,  the  life  and  soul  of  all  other  dut}',  and 
without  which  all  that  we  can  do  besides  is  but  mere  sha- 
dow; for  whatsoever  we  are  enjoined  to  do  else,  we  must 
understand  enjoined  to  be  done  out  of  love  to  God,  as  the 
principle  whence  it  must  proceed  ;  and  not  proceeding 
thence,  the  moral  goodness  of  it  vanishes  as  a  beam  cut 
off  from  the  sun.  For  on  this  (with  the  other  which  is 
like  unto  it,  and  which  also  hangs  upon  this)  "  hang  all 
the  law  and  the  prophets."  And  what,  durst  thou  who 
knowest  God,  or  rather  art  known  of  him,  neglect  so  great 
and  substantial  a  duty'?  This  is  not  like  the  command  of 
wearing  fringe  on  the  borders  of  the  garment,  or  of  not 
wearing  a  garment  of  linen  and  woollen  ;  wherein  sure 
they  whom  it  concerned  should  have  been  very  undutiful 
to  have  disobeyed;  but  it  is  the  very  greatest  among  the 
great  things  of  the  law  ;  a  duty  upon  which  all  duty  de- 
pends, even  for  life  and  breath!  Should  not  this  have  ob- 
tained in  thy  practice,  that  ought  to  run  through  and  ani- 
mate all  the  rest  1  Or  was  it  fit  it  should  lie  dead  and 
bound  up  in  the  habitual  principle,  and  not  go  forth  (or 

m  Matt.  xxii. 

u  Ua.  Iv.  I,  2,  3.    Psal.  riiv.  19.   Job  icxvii.  10.  cfe.  nxxiv.  9.   Ua.  liiii.  U. 


very  rarely)  into  act  and  exercise  1  Or  didst  thou  do  thy 
duty  herein  by  being  only  inclined  to  do  ill  Or  would 
not  the  inclination,  if  it  were  right,  infer  (or  otherwise  is 
it  like  to  last  long  without)  suitable  exercise  1  Why  was 
so  express  a  law  neglected,  so  often  enjoined '  or  the'prac- 
lice  mentioned  with  approbation,  or  the  neglect  of  it  ani- 
madverted upon  with  abhorrence,  in  the  very  terms,  or  in 
terms  evidently  enough  of  the  same  import)  in  the  sacred 
volume "?"  How  could  you  turn  over  the  leaves  of  that 
book,  and  not  often  meet  with  such  words,  ''•  Re|oice  ye  in 
the  Lord,  ye  righteous:"  rejoice  in  the  Lord,  and  again,  I 
say  unto  you,  rejoice,"?  &c.  Should  not  so  frequent  incul- 
cations of  the  same  thing  have  been  answered  by  the  fre- 
quency and  continuedness  of  }'our  practice  of  it  1  Or  was 
it  enough  now  and  then,  as  it  were  casually  and  by  chance, 
to  hit  upon  the  doing  of  what  is  so  momentous  a  part  of 
your  religion,  and  ought  to  be  the  business  of  your  life'? 
Ought  it  not  to  cut  your  heart  to  find  yourself  convicted 
herein  of  a  disobedient  omission  "?  And  w^hen  the  great 
God  exacts  that  stated  homage  from  you,  a  frequent,  prac- 
tical, explicit  recognition  and  owning  of  him  as  the  su- 
preme delight,  the  great  solace,  repose,  and  rest  of  your 
souls,  that  you  have  been  so  little  awed  with  the  appre- 
hension of  his  authority  and  right  in  this  case  1  when  he 
hath  mercifully  chosen  to  make  that  the  matter  of  his 
command  and  claim,  w'herein  yo.ur  own  advantage,  satis- 
faction, and  content,  doth  so  entirely  consist'?  That  your 
practice  is  herein  disagreeable  to  a  law,  speaks  it  sinful: 
that  it  transgresses  so  great  a  law,  highly  aggravates  your 
sin  :  a  law  so  important,  upon  which  so  much  depends,  so 
express  and  plain,  legible  in  the  very  nature  of  things, 
and  in  reference  whereto,  the  very  excellency  of  the  ob- 
ject would  suffice  to  be  law  to  you,  and  dictate  j'our  duty, 
if  no  command  had  been  otherw-ise  given  in  the  case. 
Surely  the  neglect  of  such  a  law  cannot  have  been  with- 
out great  transgression. 

2.  Your  own  conscience  you  will  acknowledge  ought  to 
be  a  rule,  to  }'ou,  when  it  manifestly  agrees  with  that  for- 
mer rule  the  supreme  and  royal  law.  Do  you  not  find 
yourselves  herein  to  have  offended  against  that  1  It  may 
be  your  sleeping  conscience  did  not  find  yourself  to  of- 
fend ;  but  do  you  not  find  yourself  to  have  offended  it 
now  beginning  to  awake "?  This  is  not  a  doubtful  and  dis- 
putable matter,  (perhaps  your  minding  such  matters  too 
much  hath  hindered  you  in  this.)  surely  you  will  not  make 
a  scruple  of  it  a  difficult  case  of  conscience,  whether  you 
should  take  the  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth  for  your  God-; 
whether  you  should  choose  him  for  your  portion,  seek  rest 
in  him,  and  place  upon  him  your  delight  and  love  1  And 
if  in  so  plain  a  case  your  conscience  hath  not  expressed 
itself  offended,  you  have  offended  against  it,  in  letting  it 
sleep  so  securely,  and  not  stirring  it  up  to  its  proper  office 
and  work.  And  know  that  sinning  against  the  light  of 
one's  o\\n\  conscience  doth  not  stand  only  in  going  against 
the  actual  deliberated  thoughts  which  we  have  had,  but 
also  in  walking  contrary  to  our  habitual  kncrwledge,  ajid 
the  thoughts  and  apprehensions  which  thence  we  might 
and  should  actually  have  had.  Inadvertency  and  disre- 
gard of  known  duty  is  the  most  usual  way  of  sinning 
against  conscience.  And,  besides,  have  vou  not  in  this 
often  gone  asrainst  the  repeated  checks  of  jaar  o\im  con- 
sciences'?  Bethink  yourselv^es,  have  you  not  in  your 
prayer  intermingled  frequent  confessions  of  your  cold  love 
to  God,  and  that  you  have  taken  so  little  delight  in  him'? 
And  were  those  only  customary  forms  with  you,  and  words 
of  course  ■?  Surely  (though  it  might  not  be  urgently  enough) 
vour  consciences  did  at  such  times  accuse  you.  And  let 
that  be  a  dreadful  thing  in  your  eyes,  to  continue  a  course 
which,  if  you  consider,  you  cannot  but  condemn.     And, 

3.  Ought  not  your  experience  to  have  been  instructive 
to  you ;  as  it  conimonl}'-  is  to  men  in  other  matters  ■?  Have 
3'ou  not  in  this  neglect  run  counter  to  such  instruction  1 
By  this  means  you  are  supposed  to  have  known  the 
sweetness,  as  bv  that  last  mentioned,  the  equity  and  fit- 
ness, of  delight'in  God.  Have  not  those  been  your  best 
hours,  wherein  rou  could  freely  solace  yourselves  in  himi 
Was  not  one  of  them  better  than  a  thousand  otherwise 
.spent  1  Did  you  never  find  it  good  for  you,  in  this  way,  to 

o  Psal.  xxxiii.  1.  xcvii.  l^i 
p  ITiil.  iii.  I.  iv.  i. 


394 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


Part  II, 


draw  nigh  to  God  ?q  and  hereupon  pronouncfc  them  blessed 
whom  he  did  choose  and  cause  to  approach  unto  him  V 
And  where  is  that  blessedness  of  which  ye  spake  1  Have  ye 
forgotten  that  ye  ever  thus  tasted  how  gracious  the  Lord 
was  ■?  And  'tis  like  you  have,  by  your  taste,  found  it  also  an 
evil  thing  and  bitter  to  depart  from  him.  Methinks  you 
should  reckon  it  a  great  increase  of  your  sin  to  have  gone 
against  your  own  sense,  when  especially  your  superior  rule 
might  give  you  assurance  it  did  not  deceive  you.  And  doth 
it  not  expressly  oblige  you  to  follow  its  guidance,  while  it 
puts  the  character  of  perfect,  or  of  being  come  to  full  age,^ 
upon  them,  who  by  reason  of  use  (or  accustomedness) 
have  senses  exercised  to  discern  between  good  and  evil! 

4.  And  what  will  you  say  to  the  great  obligations 
which  the  love  and  kindness  of  God  have  laid  upon  you  1 
Will  you  not  esteem  yourselves  to  have  been  thereby 
bound  to  place  your  love  and  delight  on  him  1  Could  you 
decline  doing  so  without  putting  a  slight  upon  his  love 
who  is  infinite  in  what  he  is,  and  who  is  love  1  Was  not 
his  love  enough  to  deserve  yours  ?  the  love  of  God,  that 
of  a  silly  worm  1  Were  you  not  obliged  to  love  him  back 
again,  who  was  so  much  before-hand  with  you  in  the  mat- 
ter of  love?  to  love  him  who  had  loved  you  first  1'  The 
first  love  is,  therefore,  perfectly  free  ;  the  latter  is  thereby 
certainly  obliged  and  become  bounden  duty.  How  vari- 
ously and  with  how  mighty  demonstration  hath  that  love 
expressed  and  evidenced  itself!  It  hath  not  glanced  at 
j'ou,  but  rested  on  you,  and  settled  in  delight.  He  halh 
so  stood  atfected  towards  the  people  of  his  choice,  and  put 
a  name  on  them  on  purpose  to  signify  his  delight  in  them." 
He  rejoices  over  them  with  joy,  and  rests  in  his  love  to 
them.^  The  Lord  takelh  pleasure  in  his  people. y  His 
delights  have  from  of  old  been  with  the  sons  of  men.^ 
Could  he  delight  in  such  as  you,  and  cannot  you  in  him  1 
Be  amazed  at  this!  How  mean  an  object  had  he  for  his 
delight !  How^  glorious  and  enamouring  a  one  have  you  ! 
exce  lency  and  love  in  conjunction  !  whereas  in  you  were 
met  deformity  and  ill  will !  He  hath  loved  you  so  as  to 
remit  to  you  much.  To  give  to  you  and  for  you  a  great 
deal  more  ;  Himself  and  the  Son  of  his  delights.  He 
then  (thou  shouldst  recount)  did  invite  thee  to  delight  in 
him  who  hath  always  sought  thy  good,  done  strange 
things  to  effect  it,  takes  pleasure  in  thy  prosperity,  and 
exercises  loving-kindness  towards  thee  with  delight;  who 
contrived  thy  happiness ;  wrought  out  thy  peace  at  the 
e,.xpense  of  blood,  even  his  own ;  taught  thee  the  way  of 
life,  cared  for  thee  all  thy  days,  hath  supplied  thy  wants, 
borne  thy  burdens,  eased  thy  griefs,  wiped  thy  tears. 
And  if  now  he  say  to  thee,  "  Afier  all  this  couldst  thou 
take  no  pleasure  in  me  1"  Will  not  that  confound  and 
shame  thee  1  He  hath  expressed  his  love  by  his  so 
earnest  (and  at  last  successful)  endeavours  to  gain  thine. 
By  this,  that  he  hath  seemed  to  put  a  value  on  it ;  and 
that  he  desisted  not  till  in  some  degree  he  had  won  it ; 
whereupon  there  hath  been  an  acquaintance,  a  friendship, 
some  intimacies  betw^een  him  and  thee,  according  as  So- 
vereign Majesty  hath  vouchsafed  to  descend  and  advance 
sinful  dust.  And  how  disingenuous,  unbecoming,  and  un- 
suitable to  all  this  is  thy  strangeness  and  distance  after- 
wards! It  is  more  unworthy  to  cast  out  of  your  hearts, 
than  not  to  have  admitted  such  a  guest. 

5.  How  contrary  is  this  omission  to  what  by  solemn 
vow  and  stipulation  you  have  bound  yourselves  to !  It 
hath  graciously  pleased  the  blessed  God  in  his  transac- 
tions with  men  to  contrive  his  laws  into  the  form  of  a  co- 
venant, wherein,  upon  terms,  he  binds  himself  to  them, 
expecting  (what  he  obtains  from  such  as  become  his  own) 
their  restipulation.  Wonderful  grace !  that  he  should  ar- 
ticle with  his  creatures,  and  capitulate  with  the  work  of 
his  owTi  hands !  And  whereas  his  first  and  great  law-  (and 
which  virtually  being  submitted  to,  comprehends  our 
obedience  to  all  the  rest)  is  as  hath  been  noted,  "  Thou 
shalt  have  no  other  gods  before  me;"  this  also  he  gives 
forth  often,  as  the  sum  and  abridgment  of  his  covenant, 
"  That  he  will  be  our  God,  and  we  shall  be  his  people." 
Now  this  you  have  consented  to  ;  and  therein  bound  your- 
selves (as  you  have  heard  our  Saviour  expounds  the  first 
and  great  commandment)  to  love  him  with  all  your  soul, 


q  Psal.  Ixxiii. 
t  1  John  iv. 


r  Psal.  Ixv. 
u  Isa.  Ixii.  4. 


a  Heb.  v.  14. 
xZeph.  iii. 


(fee.  And  how  well  doth  your  neglect  to  delight  in  him 
agree  and  consist  with  this?  What,  love  him  with  all 
your  soul  in  whom  you  can  rarely  find  yourselves  to  take 
any  pleasure?  Surely  your  hearts  will  now  misgive  and 
admit  a  conviction  you  have  not  dealt  truly  (as  well  as  not 
kindly)  in  this.  What,  not  to  keep  faith  with  the  righteous 
God !  To  deceive  a  deceiver  some  would  think  not  into- 
lerable, but  what  pretence  can  there  be  for  such  dealing 
with  the  God  of  truth  ?  You  have  vowed  to  hirn;  what 
think  you  of  this  drawing  back  ?  Such  trifling  with  him  ; 
the  great  and  terrible  God  who  keeps  covenant  and  mer- 
cy for  ever  !  How  unbecoming  is  it !  to  dally  with  him 
as  you  would  with  an  imcertain  whiffling  man  I  To  be  ofl 
and  on,  to  say  and  unsay,  that  he  shall  be  your  God,  and 
that  he  shall  not,  (for  how  is  he  your  God  if  you  delight 
not  in  him?)  imports  little  of  that  solemn  gravity  and 
stayedness  which  becomes  a  transaction  with  the  most 
high  God.  He  takes  no  pleasure  in  fools ;  wherefore  pay 
that  which  you  have  vowed.'' 

6.  Nor  doth  it  better  agree  with  your  relation  to  him, 
which  arises  from  your  covenant.  Thence  he  becomes 
yours,  and  you  his !  "  I  entered  into  covenant  with  thee, 
and  thou  becamest  mine :"  and  the  covenant  binding  on 
both  parts,  the  relation  is  mutual ;  so  that  thereby  also  he 
becomes  yours.  It  is  a  most  near,  represented  therefore 
by  the  nearest  among  men,  even  the  conjugal,  relation  ; 
therefore  how  full  is  that  Song  of  Songs  of  expressions 
importing  mutual  delight  suitable  thereto !  And  what  a 
bondage  (as  well  as  incongruity)  were  that  relation  with- 
out delight!  Have  you  repented  your  choice  ?  If  not,  why 
take  you  not  pleasure  ?  Why  do  you  not  rejoice  and  glo- 
ry in  it,  even  as  he  professes  to  do  over  you  ?  If  he  should 
repent,  in  what  case  were  you  ?  Not  to  take  pleasure  in 
God  !  3^our  own  God  !  How  strangely  uncouth  is  it !  You 
are  not  to  consider  him  as  a  stranger,  an  unrelated  one. 
If  he  were  such  to  you,  his  own  excellencies  challenge  to 
be  beheld  w^ith  delight.  But  you  are  to  reckon  and  say 
of  him,  "  This  is  my  beloved,  and  this  is  my  friend,  &c.  I 
am  his  and  he  is  mine."  And  how  ill  do  such  words  be- 
come the  mouth  that  utters  them  not  from  the  abundance 
of  the  heart,  even  from  a  heart  abounding  and  overflow- 
ing with  love  and  joy ! 

7.  And  how  doth  the  temper  of  your  heart  and  your 
practice,  while  you  take  not  actual,  ordinary  delight  in  God, 
clash  and  jar  with  your  profession  !  For  admit  you  do  not 
then  make  an  express  verbal  profession  of  actual  delight 
in  God  at  such  times  when  you  find  it  not,  yet  you  still 
avow  yourselves,  and  would  be  accounted  and  looked 
upon,  as  related  to  him:  and  the  just  challenges  of  that  re- 
lation are  not  any  way  answered,  but  by  a  course  of  ordi- 
nary actual  delight.  So  much  your  profession  manifestly 
imports.  Whilst  you  profess  the  Lord  to  be  your  God, 
you  profess  him  to  be  your  supreme  delight.  And  how  is 
he  so,  when  you  seldom  have  a  delightful  thought  of  him, 
or  look  to  him  with  any  pleasure  ?  and  the  temper  of 
your  spirit  towards  him  is  usually  strange  and  shy  ?  And 
bethink  yourselves,  what  would  you  then  be  esteemed 
such  as  care  not  for  him,  as  value  him  not  ?  Would  you 
willingly  be  taken  for  such  in  all  those  long  intervals 
wherein  your  actual  delight  in  him  is  wholly  discontinued  ? 
Would  you  not  be  ashamed  the  disposition  of  your  heart 
tow'ards  him  at  such  times  should  be  known  ?  Do  you  not 
desire  to  be  better  thought  of?  What  is  there  then  at  the 
bottom,  and  under  the  covert,  of  your  yet  continued  pro- 
fession at  such  times,  but  falsehood  ?  A  correspondent 
affection  there  is  not.  Is  not  your  very  profession  then 
mere  dissimulation  and  a  lie  ?  a  concealment  and  dis- 
guise of  a  heart  inwardly  bad  and  naught;  but  which  only 
comforts  itself  that  it  is  not  known  ?  that  is  all  day  long 
full  of  earth  and  vanity,  and  wholly  taken  up  with  either 
the  contentments,  delights,  and  hopes,  or  the  cares,  fears, 
and  discontents  that  do  naturally  arise  from  these  vile, 
mean  objects,  and  so  are  of  a  kind  as  mean  and  vile  as 
they  ?  only  makes  a  shift  to  lie  hid  all  the  while,  and  lurk 
under  the  appearance  such  a  one  hath  put  on  of  a  lover  of 
God,  and  one  that  above  all  things  delights  in  him  ?  But 
is  this  honest  dealing  ?  or  was  this  indeed  all  that  wa5 
this  while  to  be  got  of  God,  the  credit  of  being  thought  his  ? 


y  Psal.  cslix. 


a  EccJ.  V. 


Pakt  II. 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


395 


Yet  it  may  be  you  will  somewhat  relieve  yourselves  by 
saying  you  suppose  for  all  this  your  profession  was  not 
altogether  false.  For  you  hope  there  was  .'^till  a  principle 
in  you  by  which  your  heart  was  habitual  y  directed  towards 
God,  and  whereby  his  interest  did  still  live  and  was  main- 
tained in  you,  noiwithstanding  your  many  and  long  diver- 
sions from  him.  And  while  your  profession  did  signify 
that,  it  signified  some  real  thing,  and  so  was  not  a  false 
and  lying  profession. 

But  to  this  I  say,  was  this  all  that  your  profession  was 
in  itself  apt,  and  by  you  designed,  to  signify  ?  Surely  it 
was  apt  and  intended  to  signify  more  than  habitual  incli- 
nation. It  carried  the  appearance  of  such  actings  God- 
ward  as  were  suitable  to  your  having  him  for  your  God ; 
and  you  would  it's  likely  have  been  loth  it  should  have 
been  otherwise  understood.  And  surely  whatsoever  it 
said  or  imported  more  than  the  truth  was  false. 

And  again,  can  you  be  confident  that  so  much  as  you 
suppose  was  true  1  Are  you  sure  of  this,  that  because  you 
have  sometimes  found  some  motions  of  heart  towards  God, 
it  is  therefore  habitually  inclined  to  him,  when  it  very 
rarely  puts  forth  itself  in  any  suitable  acts,  and  for  the  most 
part  works  quite  another  way  1  Whereby  are  habits  to  be 
known  but  by  the  frequency  of  their  acts  1  Do  not  you 
know  there  are  many  half-inclinations  and  workings  of 
heart  with  some  complacency  God-ward  that  prove  abortive 
and  come  to  nothing,  as  that  of  the  stony  ground,  and  thai 
of  Heb.  vi.  4.  do  more  than  intimate.  Surely  your  hope 
and  safety  more  depend  upon  your  repentance,  your  return 
and  closer  adherence  to  God  thereupon,  than  the  supposi- 
tion your  heart  is  in  the  main  sound  and  right  amidst  tho.se 
more  notable  declinings  from  him.  But  we  will  admit 
your  supposition  true,  (which  the  consideration  of  the  per- 
sons we  are  now  dealing  with,  and  tlie  design  of  this  present 
piece  of  our  discourse  requires,)  and  take  it  for  granted, 
that  amidst  this  your  great  neglect,  you  have  notwithstand- 
ing a  principle,  a  new  and  holy  nature  in  you,  whose  ten- 
dency is  God -ward;  whereupon,  we  further  say  then, 

8.  And  doth  not  your  unaccustomedness  to  this  blessed 
exercise  resist  the  tendency  of  that  new  nature  1  And  so 
your  practice,  while  your  hearts  run  aquile  contrary  course, 
(for  they  are  not  doing  nothing  while  they  are  not  in  this 
delightful  way  working  towards  God,)  doth  not  only  offend 
towards  your  profession,  which  it  in  great  part  belies ; 
but  against  that  vital  principle  also,  which  is  in  you  ; 
and  so  your  very  excuse  aggravates  your  sin.  Is  there 
indeed  such  a  principle  in  you  1  And  whither  tends 
itl  Is  it  not  from  God?  And  doth  it  not  then  na- 
turally aim  at  him  and  tend  towards  himi  being  upon 
both  these  accoimts  (as  well  as  that  it  resembles  liim, 
and  is  his  living  image)  called  a  participation  of  the 
Divine  nature  1  Yea,  doth  it  not  tend  to  delight  in  him! 
for  it  tends  to  him  as  the  soul's  last  end  and  rest.  What 
good  principle  can  you  have  in  you  God-ward  if  you  have 
not  love  to  himi  And  the  property  of  that,  is  to  work 
towards  him  by  desire,  that  it  may  rest  in  him  by  delight. 
Have  you  faith  in  God  ]  That  works  by  this  love.  Paith 
is  that  great  power  in  the  holy  soul  by  which  it  acts  from 
God  as  a  principle  ;  love  is  that  by  which  it  acts  towards 
him  as  an  end  ;  by  that  it  draws  from  him,  by  this  it 
moves  to  him,  and  rests  in  him.  The  same  holy,  gracious 
nature  (dependenlly  on  its  great  Author  and  Cause)  in- 
clining it  both  to  this  motion  and  rest;  and  to  the  former, 
in  order  to  the  latter  :  so  b}'  the  work  of  the  new  creature 
in  the  soul  formed  purposely  for  blessedness  in  God  and 
devotedness  to  him,  its  aspirations,  its  motions,  its  very 
pulse,  breathe,  tend,  and  beat  this  way.  But  you  applv 
not  your  souls  to  delight  in  God.  You  bend  your  minds 
and  hearts  another  way.  What  are  you  doing  then  1  You 
are  striving  against  your  own  life;  you  are  mortifying  all 
good  inclinations  towards  God,  stifling  and  slopping  the 
breath  that  your  panting  heart  would  send  forth  to  him ;  you 
are  busilv  crucifying  the  new  creature,  instead  of  the  body 
of  sin.  There  is  somewhat  in  you  that  would  work  towards 
God,  and  you  suffer  it  not;  and  is  thai  welll  That  divine 
thing,  born  of  God,  of  heavenly  descent,  that  hath  .so  much 
in  it  of  sacredness  by  its  extraction  and  parentage,  5'ou 
fear  not  to  do  violence  to! 

If  indeed  such  a  thing  (as  you  seem  to  hope)  be  in  you ; 
b  Cant  V.  c  Is*.  >tx\i.  <1  Psul.  xwiL 


at  some  time  or  other  you  may  perceive  which  way  it  beats 
and  tends.  The  soul  in  which  it  hath  place  is  biassed  by 
it  God-ward ;  and  though  often  it  is  not  discernible,  it 
sometimes  shows  its  inclination.  Other  men,  and  meaner 
creatures,  sleep  .sometimes,  and  then  their  most  rooted  dis- 
positions appear  not ;  when  they  are  awake  they  bewray 
them,  and  let  them  be  seen  in  their  actions,  motions,  and 
pursuits.  The  renewed  soul  hath  its  sleeping  intervalstoo, 
and  what  propensions  it  hath  towards  God  is  little  discern- 
ible ;  (and  yet  even  then  it  sometimes  dreams  of  him,  at 
least  between  sleeping  and  waking;  I  sleep,  but  my  heart 
waketh,  it  is  the  voice  of  my  beloved  ;)b  hut  if  you  seri- 
ously commune  with  3'ourselves  in  your  more  wakeful 
seasons,  you  may  perceive  what  your  hearts  seek  and  crave ; 
some  such  sense  as  this  may  be  read  in  them,  The  desire  of 
our  souls  is  unto  thy  name,  O  Lord,  and  to  the  remem- 
brance of  thee.<^  One  thing  have  I  desired,  that  will  I 
seek  after,  to  behold  the  beauty  (the  delight,  as  the  word 
signifies)  of  the  Lord.d  And  when  you  observe  this  dis- 
covered inclination,  you  may  see  what  it  is  that  in  your 
too  wonted  course  you  repress  and  strive  against.  Thai 
divine  birtji  calls  for  suitable  nutriment,  more  tastes  how 
gracious  the  Lord  is.  You  will  have  it  feed  upon  ashes, 
upon  wind  and  vanity ;  or  (although  it  had  the  best  pa- 
rent, it  hath  so  ill  a  nurse)  when  it  asks  bread,  you  give  it 
a  stone,  and  let  it  be  stung  by  a  scorpion ;  and  the  injury 
strikes  higher  tl;an  at  it  alone,  even  (as  is  obvious)  at  the 
very  Author  of  this  divine  production ;  which  therefor« 
we  add  as  a  furtlier  aggravation  of  this  evil,  viz. 

9.  That  it's  an  offence  against  the  Spirit  of  grace,  whose 
dictates  are  herein  slighted  and  opposed ;  for  surely  with 
the  tendencies  of  the  new  creature  he  concurs.  It  is 
maintained  by  him  as  well  as  produced,  continuallj'  de- 
pends on  him  as  to  its  beiirg,  properties,  and  all  its  opera- 
tions. Nothing  therefore  can  be  cross  to  the  incHnaiion 
of  a  renewed  soul  as  such,  which  is  not  more  principally 
so  to  the  Holy  Ghost  himself  And  particularly  the  dis- 
posing of  the  soul  unto  delight  is  most  expressly  ascribed 
to  him;  that  very  disposition  being  itself  joy  in  the  Holy 
Ghost  ;^  and  we  find  it  numbered  among  the  fruits  of  the 
Spirit. f  You  may  possibly  be  less  apprehensive  of  your 
sin  in  this,  because  you  find  him  not  dictating  to  you  with 
that  discernible  majesty,  authority,  and  glory,  that  you  may 
think  agreeable  to  so  great  an  Agent.  But  you  must  know, 
he  applies  himself  to  us  in  a  wa}'  much  imitating  that  of 
nature.  And  as  in  reference  to  the  conservation  of  our  na- 
tural beings,  we  are  assured  the  first  cause  co-operates 
with  inferior  causes,  (for  we  live,  move,  and  have  our  being 
in  him,  ?)  though  the  Divine  influence  is  not  communicated 
to  this  purpose  with  any  sensible  glory,  or  so  distinguish- 
ably,  that  we  can  discern  what  influence  is  from  the  superior 
cause  and  what  from  sulx)rdinate;  our  reason  and  faith 
certainly  assure  us  of  what  our  sense  cannot  reach  in  this 
matter.  So  it  is  here  also,  the  Divine  Spirit  accommodates 
himself  ver^'  much  to  the  same  way  of  v%'orking  with  our 
own,  and  acts  as  suitably  to  our  own  natures.  And  though 
by  very  sensible  tokens  we  cannot  always  tell  which  be 
the  motions  that  proceed  from  him ;  yet  faith  teaches  us 
from  his  word,  to  ascribe  to  him  whatever  spiritual  good 
we  find  in  ourselves;  inasmuch  at>  we  are  not  af  ourselves 
sufficient  to  think  a  good  thought.  And  if  by  that  word 
we  judge  of  the  various  motions  that  stir  in  us,  we  may 
discern  which  are  good  and  which  not ;  and  so  may  know 
what  to  a.scribe  to  the  Spirit,  and  what  not.  Whereas, 
therefore,  that  word  commands  us  to  delight  in  God,  if  we 
find  any  motion  in  our  hearts  tending  that  way,  we  are 
presently  to  own  the  finger  of  God,  and  the  touch  of  his 
Holy  Spirit  therein.  And  what,  have  you  found  no  such 
motions  excited,  no  thoughts  cast  in  that  have  had  this  as- 
pect and  tendency,  which  your  indulged  carnality  and 
aversion  have  repressed  and  counter-wrought  3  Herein 
you  have  grieved  and  quenched  the  Spirit. 

And  if  it  have  not  over-borne  you  into  what  you  should 
have  understood  to  have  been  your  duty,  but  have,  upon 
your  untractableness,  retired  and  withdrawn  I'rom  3'ou; 
do  not  therefore  make  the  less  reckoning  of  the  matter, 
but  tl>e  more  rather;  this  carries  more  iu  it  of  awful  con- 
sideration in  you,  and  smarter  rebuke  that  he  desisted. 
You  must  consider  him  as  a  free  Agent,  and  who  works  to 

e  Roia.  xiv.  17.  f  Gal.  v.  M  g  Act*  ^^•li. 


39G 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


Part  II. 


will  ami  to  do  of  his  good  pleasure.  His  influence  is  re- 
tractable, and  when  it  is  retracted  you  ought  in  this  case 
to  reckon,  it  signifies  a  resentment  of  your  unduiiful  and 
regardless  carriage  towards  him.  And  ought  you  not  to 
smite  upon  the  thigh  then,  and  say,  "  What  have  I  donel" 
You  have  striven  against  the  Spirit  of  the  most  high  God ; 
you  have  resisted  him  in  the  execution  of  his  ofhce,  when 
you  were  committed  to  his  conduct  and  government ;  you 
have  fallen  out  and  quarrelled  with  your  merciful  guide, 
and  slighted  at  once  both  his  authority  and  lov^e.  This 
could  be  no  small  ofience.  And  you  are  also  to  consider, 
that  when  such  a  province  was  assigned  him  in  reference 
to  3'ou,  and  such  as  you ;  and  the  great  God  set  his  Spirit 
on  work  about  you;  it  was  with  a  special  end  and  design, 
being  the  determination  of  most  wise  counsel.  And  how 
highly  doth  this  increase  the  offence  !  that, 

10.  You  have  herein  directly  obstructed  the  course  and 
progress  of  that  design ;  that  could  be  no  other  than 
the  magnifying  of  his  grace  in  your  conduct  to  blessedness. 
This  is  that  whereon  he  hath  been  intent;  and  he  hath 
made  his  design  herein  so  visible,  that  they  that  run 
might  read  what  it  was.  The  very  overture  to  you  of 
placing  your  delights  on  him,  speaks  its  end  ;  'tis  that 
whereby  he  should  be  most  highly  acknowledged  and  you 
blessed  both  at  once.  His  known  design  you  ought  to 
have  reckoned  did  prescribe  to  you,  and  give  you  a  law. 
It  is  a  part  of  civility  towards  even  an  ordinary  man,  not 
to  cross  his  design  which  I  know  him  earnestly  to  intend, 
when  it  tends  no  way  to  my  prejudice,  or  any  man's;  yea, 
lO  do  so  would  in  common  interpretation,  besides  rude- 
ness, argue  ill  nature  and  a  mischievous  disposition.  Much 
more  would  duty  and  just  observance  towards  a  superior 
challenge  so  much,  as  not  to  counterwork  him,  and  awe  a 
well-tempered  spirit  into  subjection  and  compliance  ;  but 
a  stiff  reluctancy  to  the  great  and  known  design  of  the 
blessed  God,  meant  so  directly  to  our  own  advantage, 
.speaks  so  very  bad  a  temper,  hath  in  it  such  a  complica- 
tion of  peevish  wilfulness,  of  undutifulness  and  ingratitude 
to  him,  of  negligence  and  disregard  of  ourselves,  that  it 
must  want  a  name  to  express  it. 

And  now  do  you  see  what  evil  the  neglect  of  delighting 
in  God  (accompanied  as  it  cannot  but  be  with  the  having 
your  hearts  otherwise  engaged  and  vainly  busy)  doth  in- 
clude and  carry  in  it  1  Will  you  pause  awhile  and  delibe- 
rate upon  it  1  Do  but  make  your  just  and  sober  estimate 
by  the  things  that  have  been  mentioned.  Measure  it  by 
God's  law,  and  it  imports  manifest  disobedience  in  a  mat- 
ter of  highest  consequence  ; — by  the  judgment  of  your  own 
conscience,  and  it  imports  much  boldness  against  light  in 
a  very  plain  case  ; — by  your  experience,  and  it  speaks  an 
uninstructable  stupidity,  or  a  very  heedless  forgetful  spirit ; 
— by  '.he  obligation  laid  upon  a'ou,  by  the  kindness  of  this 
very  counsel  and  offer,  (besides  many  other  ways,)  and  it 
hath  in  it  great  ingratitude  and  insensiblencss  of  the  great- 
est love ; — by  your  covenant,  and  it  imports  ti'eachery ; — by 
your  relation,  much  incongruity  and  undecency  ; — by  your 
profession,  falsehood  and  hypocrisy; — by  the  tendency  of 
'he  new  nature  in  you,  unnatural  violence; — by  the  dic- 
tate«  of  God's  Spirit,  great  unlractableness ; — by  his  known 
declared  design  in  this  matter,  a  most  undutiful  disrespect 
to  him,  with  a  most  wretched  carelessness  of  yourselves, 
as  to  your  nearest  and  most  important  concern.  One 
would  think  it  needless  to  say  more.  But  why  should  we 
balk  any  thing  that  so  obviously  occurs,  tending  to  set 
forth  the  exceeding  great  sinfulness  of  this  sin  1  Therefore 
know,  that  besides  its  great  faultiness  in  itself, 

11.  Much  also  cannot  but  be  derived  into  it  from  its 
very  faulty  causes.  It  supposes  and  argues  great  evils 
that  flow  into  it,  and  from  which  it  hath  its  rise. 

1.  Great  blindness  and  ignorance  of  God.  For  is  it 
possible  any  should  have  known  and  not  have  loved  him? 
or  have  beheld  his  glory,  and  not  have  been  delighted 
therewith"?  and  that  with  such  delight  and  love  as  should 
have  held  a  settled  seat  and  residence  in  them.  And  can 
your  ignorance  of  God  be  excusable  or  innocent  1  The 
apostle's  words  are  too  applicable ;  Some  have  not  the 
knowledge  of  God,  1  speak  it  to  your  shame. h  Do  you 
pretend  to  him,  and  know  him  not  1  worship  him  so  oft. 


h  1  Cor  XV. 
1  2  Cor.v. 


i  Psal.  kxvi.  l,  2. 
m  Eph.  iv.  18. 


k  Acts  xvii. 
n  Psal.  X. 


and  worship  you  know  not  what "?  had  such  opportunity 
of  knowing  him,  and  yet  be  ignorant  1  At  least  it  would 
be  thought.  In  Judah  is  God  known,  and  that  his  name 
were  great  in  Israel,;  where  he  hath  had  his  tabernacle  and 
dwelling-place.  Here  one  would  think  his  altar  should 
not  bear  the  same  inscription  as  at  Athens,  "  To  the  un- 
known God."k  How  express  hath  his  discovery  of  him- 
self been  to  you  '  and  how  amiable  !  What  was  there  in 
it  not  delectable  1  or  in  respect  whereof  he  hath  not  ap- 
peared altogether  lovely  1  as  it  were  composed  of  delights  1 
You  have  had  opportunity  to  behold  him  clad  with  the 
garments  of  salvation  and  praise  ;  and  as  he  is  in  Christ, 
in  that  alluring  posture,  "  reconciling  the  world  to  him- 
self," 1  wherein  all  his  attributes  have  visibly  complied  to 
the  reconciling  design  ;  his  boundless  fulness  of  life  and 
love  not  obstructed  by  any  of  them,  from  flowing  out  in 
rich  and  liberal  communications.  If  you  had  not  excluded 
that  glorious  pleasant  light  wherein  he  is  so  to  be  beheld, 
you  would  have  beheld  what  had  won  your  hearts  fully, 
and  bound  them  to  him  in  everlastingdelight  and  love. 
And  have  you  not  reason  to  be  ashamed  you  have  not 
known  him  better,  and  to  better  purpose !  Alienation 
from  the  life  of  God™  proceeds  from  blindness  of  heart, 
i.  e.  a  chosen,  affected,  voluntary  blindness.  Or  if  your 
knowledge  of  him  be  not  little, 

2.  Your  little  delight  in  him  argues  much  unmindful- 
ness  of  him  ;  at  least  that  you  have  not  minded  him  duly, 
and  according  to  what  you  have  known.  It  might  here  be 
seasonable  to  suggest  to  you,  how  likely  it  is  that  several 
ways  your  great  faultiness  in  the  matter  of  thinking  of  God 
may  have  contributed  to  the  withholding  of  your  deliglit 
from  him.     Consider  therefore, 

1.  Have  not  your  thoughts  of  him  been  slight  and 
transient  1  Have  they  not  been  overly  superficial  thoughts  ? 
casual  only,  and  such  as  have  dropped  into  your  minds 
as  it  were  b}'  chance,  fluid  and  roving,  fixed  neither  upon 
him  nor  into  your  hearts'?  too  much  resembling  what  is 
said  of  the  Avicked  man,  God  is  not  in  all  his  thoughts," 
he  hath  not  been  amidst  them?  Your  thoughts  have  nut 
united  upon  him,  he  hath  not  been  situatedf  and  centred 
in  them.  Was  not  this  the  case  1  You  bestowed  upon 
him  it  may  be  now  and  then  a  hasty  passant  glance,  tlie 
careless  cast  of  a  wandering  eye ;  and  was  this  likely  to 
beget  an  abidin^ermanent  delight  ?  Have  you  been  wont 
to  compose  yourselves  designedly  and  on  purpose  to  think 
of  him,  so  as  your  thoughts  might  be  said  to  have  been 
directed  towards  him  by  the  desire  and  inclining  bent  of 
your  heart;  according  to  that,  the  desire  of  our  soul  is  to- 
wards thy  name,  and  to  the  remembrance  of  thee  ?<> 
Whence  it  is  that  'tis  represented  as  the  usual  posture  of 
them  whom  he  reckons  among  his  jewels,  and  for  whom 
the  book  of  remembrance  was  written,  that  they  thought 
on  his  name  ;p  a  thing  that  they  might  be  known  by,  and 
distinguished  from  other  men.  Wherefore  it  is  observ- 
able, that  their  remembrance  of  him  was  thought  worth 
the  remembering,  and  to  be  transmitted  into  records  never 
to  be  forgotten.  The  evil  of  your  not  delighting  in  God, 
hath  a  great  accession  from  your  negligent  thinking  of  him. 

2.  Have  not  your  thoughts  of  him  been  low  and  mean, 
such  as  have  imported  light  esteem?  Compare  them  with 
those  admiring  thoughts,  Who  is  like  unto  thee,  O  Lord, 
among  the  gods?  who  is  like  thee,  glorious  in  holiness ?'' 
O  Lord,  our  Lord,  how  excellent  is  thy  name  in  all  the 
earth!''  How  unlike  have  yours  been  to  such  thoughts! 
Bethink  yourselves  how  deeply  culpable  you  have  made 
your  neglect  to  delight  in  God,  by  your  unworthy  thoughts, 
by  which  you  have  detracted  so  unspeakably  from  the 
Divine  excellency!  Hence  you  have  more  to  account  for 
than  merely  not  delighting  in  God,  a  rendering  him  such 
to  yourselves,  as  if  he  were  not  worthy  to  be  delighted  in. 
How  ought  this  to  shake  your  hearts  ! 

3.  Have  they  not  been  hard  thoughts;  full  of  censure, 
and  misjudging  of  his  nature,  counsels,  ways,  and  works? 
have  there  not  been  perverse  reasonings,  with  dislike  of 
his  methods  of  government  over  men  in  this  present  state  ? 
as  if  he  had  too  little  kindness  for  such  as  you  would  have 
him  favour,  and  too  much  for  others ;  judging  his  love  and 
hatred  by  false  measures  ?  This  seems  to  be  much  the  evil 


o  Isa.  xxn.  S. 
q  Deut.  x.\.\ii.  15. 


p  Mai.  iii. 
r  Psal.  viii. 


Part  II. 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


397 


unto  which  the  injunction  of  delight  in  God  is  here  op- 
posed in  this  psalm  and  whence  it  may  be  estimated,  liuw 
directly  that  militates  agamsi  this,  and  prevailing,  excludes 
it.  Perhaps  you  have  deliglited  so  Utile  in  God  because 
ye  have  thouglii  (the  thing  that  is  so  wearisome  to  him) 
every  one  that  doth  evil  is  good  in  the  sight  of  the  Lout, 
and  he  delighteth  in  them  ;'"  and  have  said  in  your  heart.^, 
where  is  the  God  of  judgment?  Or  have  you  not  been 
more  peccant  in  your  appreliensions  of  his  rules  and  reso- 
lutions for  the  disposing  of  men  as  to  their  eternal  states  ? 
Have  yon  not  disbelieved  the  revelation  he  hath  given  of 
his  nature,  and  express  declarations  of  his  inind  and  pur- 
pose touching  these  mailers  1  Was  it  not  enough  for  you 
to  have  known  his  gracious  propensions  towards  returning 
sinners,  that  desire  him  again  for  their  God,  and  willingly 
accept  the  grace,  and  submit  themselves  to  the  conduct  and 
government,  of  his  Son  ?  Should  not  this  have  allured  and 
won  your  hearts  to  him,  and  made  you,  with  humble, 
thankful  admiration  of  his  grace,  resign  and  yield  )-our- 
selves  to  be  his  for  ever  1  Have  you  not  measured  your 
apprehensions  of  him  by  the  suggestions  and  misgivings 
of  your  guilty,  jealous  hearts  ;  or  by  3'our  experienced 
animosity,  and  the  implacableness  of  3'our  own  spirits  to- 
wards such  as  have  offended  you  ;  as  if  he  could  forgive 
no  more  than  you  are  disposed  to  do  1  Have  3-ou  not 
opposed  your  own  imaginations  of  him  to  his  express  tes- 
tifications of  himself,  that  "  lie  is  love ;  slow  to  anger,  and 
of  great  mercy,  &c.  And  that  as  the  heavens  are  high 
above  the  earth,  so  are  his  ways  above  your  waj's,  and  his 
though'.s  above  your  thoughts '?"  Have  you  not  (against 
his  plain  word)  thought  him  irreconcileab-le,  and  averse  to 
the  accepting  of  any  atonement  for  you  ?  prescribed  and 
set  bounds  to  him,  and  thought  your  sin  greater  than  could 
be  forgiven  1  And  if  hereupon  j'ou  have  not  delighted  in 
him,  and  have  found  all  ingenuous  affection  towards  him 
stifled  within  you,  as  your  not  delighting  in  him,  was  a 
foul  evil ;  the  more  sinful  injurious  cause  (denying  the 
infinite  goodness  of  his  nature,  and  giving  the  lie  to  his 
word)  hath  made  it  beyond  all  expression  worse.  And 
further  at  least  consider, 

4.  Have  not  your  thoughts  of  God  been  few"?  Is  not 
the  meditation  of  him  with  you  an  unwonted  thing  1  The 
Psalmist,  resolving  to  mind  him  much,  to  praise  and  sing 
to  him  as  long  as  he  lived,  and  while  he  had  any  being  ;t 
doth  as  it  were  prophesy  to  himself,  that  his  meditation  of 
him  should  be  sweet.  Frequent  right  thoughts  of  God, 
will  surely  be  pleasant,  delightful  thoughts;  but  your  little 
delight  in  God  too  plainly  argues,  you  have  minded  him 
but  seldom.  And  how  full  of  guilt  is  your  not  delighting 
in  God  upon  this  account !  How  cheap  is  the  expense  of 
a  thought !  What,  that  so  much  should  not  be  done  in 
order  to  the  delightful  rest  of  your  soul  in  God! 

3.  It  supposes  much  carnality,  a  prone  inclination  and 
addictedness  to  this  earth  and  the  things  of  it ;  and  there- 
upon argues  in  you  a  very  mean,  abject  spirit.  While  you 
can  take  no  pleasure  (or  do  take  so  little)  in  God,  is  there 
nothing  else  wherein  you  take  pleasure  !  And  what  is  it  ? 
Goii  hath  in  this  matter  no  other  rival  than  this  world. 
'Tis  its  friendship  that  is  enmity  to  him  ;"  something  or 
other  of  it,  the  lust  of  the  flesh,  the  lust  of  the  eye,  or  the 
pride  of  life  prevails  far,  while  the  love  of  the  Father  hath 
so  little  place  in  you.''  Whither  are  you  sunk  1  inio  how- 
low  and  vile  a  temper  of  spirit,  when  you  can  lake  pleasure 
in  so  base  things,  rather  than  in  the  blessed  God :  and  quit 
so  high  and  pure  delights  for  mire  and  dirt "?  What  hath 
thus  carnalized  your  minds,  that  you  savour  only  the  things 
of  the  flesh,  and  divine  things  are  tasteless  and  without 
relish  1  Nor  are  you  to  think  more  favourably  of  your 
case,  if  you  take  little  actual  complacency  in  the  world 
also;  probably  it  is  because  you  have  little  of  it  to  delight 
in  ;  it  may  be  you  are  more  acquainted  with  the  cares  of 
it  than  the  delights  ;  or  your  desire  after  it  is  much  larger 
than  your  po.ssession.  "'Tis  all  one  for  that.  But  what 
are  your  hearts  most  apt  to  delight  in  1  or,  what  is  most  j 
agreeable  to  your  temper"?  'Tis  the  same  thing,  what 
earthly  affection  predominates  in  you,  while  the  temper  of  1 
vour  spirit  is  earthly;  and  it  is  therebv  held  ofl"  from  God.  I 
Your  not  having  actual   earthly  delights  to  put  in  the 


B  Mai.  ii.  17 
I  1  John  ii. 


t  Psal.  civ.  33. 
y  Psal.  Ixxiii. 


balance  against  heavenly  is  only  by  accident.  But  all  your 
cares,  desires,  and  hopes  of  that  vile  kind,  would  turn 
inio  as  vile  delights,  if  you  had  your  wills.  In  the  mean- 
time, you  are  the  more  excuseless,  and  your  sin  is  the 
grosser,  that  even  the  cares  and  troubles  of  this  world  are 
of  more  value  with  you  than  delight  in  God.  How  far  are 
you  from  that  temper.  Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but  thee, 
and  whom  do  I  desire  on  earth  besides  ihee  7^ 

4.  And  how  sad  an  argument  is  it,  of  downright  aver- 
sion and  di.saffectedness  to  God,  in  a  great  degree  at  least 
yet  remaining!  Whence  can  your  not  delighting  in  him 
proceed,  but  from  this,  as  its  most  immediate  cause  7  Whal 
could  hinder  you,  if  your  heart  were  inclined!  Are  you 
not  astonished  to  behold  this  as  the  state  of  your  case,  that 
you  delight  not  in  him,  because  your  heart  is  against  it; 
that  is,  from  flat  enmity.  And  what  doth  more  naturally 
import  enmity  to  any  thing  than  to  turn  off  from  it,  as  not 
being  able  to  take  pleasure  in  it.  So  God  expresses  his 
detestation  of  apostaies.  If  any  man  draw  back,  my  soul 
shall  have  no  pleasure  in  him,^  And  his  contempt  of  Je- 
choniah  is  signified  by  the  like  manner  of  speaking.  Do 
you  not  tremble  to  think  that  should  be  the  temper  of  your 
spirit  towards  God,  and  that  your  estimate  of  him,  as  if  he 
were  a  despised  broken  idol,"  and  a.s  mean  a  thing  as  a 
vessel  wherein  is  no  pleasure '?  Reckon  then  thus  with 
yours>3lf.  As  your  case  stands,  and  things  do  lie  between 
God  and  you,  your  little  delight  in  God  can  have  no  more 
favourable  account  given  of  it,  nor  be  resolved  into  any 
gentler  or  milder  cause,  than  enmity.  And  if  this  seem 
to  you  not  to  be  a  cause,  but  to  be  coinpident,  and  fall  in 
with  it,  so  much  the  worse.  By  how  much  less  this  enmity 
hath  of  antecedency  to  your  neglect,  or  the  more  it  seems 
the  same  with  it,  so  much  the  more  it  discovers  the  evil  of 
the  thing  itself  For  by  what  worse  name  can  v.e  call 
any  thing  than  enmity  to  God  1  But  we  speak  of  your 
habitual  temper,  as  that,  which  is  the  cause  of  youractual 
neglect.  And  since  you  have  a  discover}'  of  God  as 
the  most  delectable  object,  cannot  pretend  there  is  a  better, 
have  leave  and  free  permission  to  place  your  delight  on 
him,  ye  are  earnestly  invited  and  pressed  to  it.  'Tis 
plain  nothing  else  is  in  your  way  to  hinder  you.  There- 
fore you  delight  not  in  him,  because  your  heart  only  is 
averse. 

III.  We  also  might  insist  further  to  show  the  evils  that 
ensue  and  follow  upon  this  neglect.  Such  I  mean,  as  do 
not  follow  casually  and  by  accident,  but  which  have  a 
very  inward  connexion  with  it,  and  are  its  most  natural 
consequents  ;  being  some  wa}'  caused  by  it,  or  \ihich  it 
doth  very  directly  tend  to  beget.  And  yet  these  we  need 
not  be  solicitously  curious  to  distinguish,  as  things  of  a 
kind  altogether  diverse  from  those  last  mentioned  under 
the  foregoing  head.  For  it  is  very  apparent,  the  same 
things  may  both  cause  little  delight  in  God,  and  be  caused 
thereby  ;  as  a  person  may  therefore  not  delight  in  God  be- 
cause he  knows  him  not,  and  ma)'  therefore  be  the  less  apt 
to  entertain  the  knowledge  of  him,  because  he  hath  no  de- 
light in  him.  And  the  case  is  the  same  as  to  the  other 
things  spoken  of  as  causes  of  this  omi.ssion,  i.  e.  that  it  and 
they  may  be  mutual  causes  of  one  another.  But  it  how- 
ever equally  serves  the  design  of  aggravating  the  evil  of 
not  taking  frequent  actual  delight  in  God,  that  hereby  sin 
grows,  whether  in  the  same  or  in  different  kinds.  There  is 
still  an  increase  of  sin,  though  but  of  the  same  sort  that  was 
in  being  before.  You  ought  to  consider  then,  as  you  take 
so  little  delight  in  God  trom  that  very  had  cause,  that  you 
have  not  entertained  the  right  knowledge  of  him,  when 
you  had  so  great  opportunity  to  get  much  of  it,  which 
makes  your  matter  very  ill ;  do  you  not  also  find  that  by 
3'^our  withholding  yourselves  from  delighting  in  him,  you 
have  still  less  disposition  to  seek  his  more  inward  acquaint- 
ance 1  And  doth  not  that  make  your  matter  much  worse  1 
If  you  alreadj'  know  somewhat  of  him.  you  yet  know  but 
in  part ;  your  object  is  infinite,  and  this  knowledge  so  ex- 
cellent, that  you  cannot  fully  attain  to  it,  there  is  still  more 
to  be  known. 

Now  therefore  if  you  did  delight  much  in  God,  would 
you  not  be  pressing  hard  after  him  ?b  would  you  not  be 
following  on  to  kiiow  him  1<:  and  then  would   his  goings 

7.  Heb.  X.  aJer.  x-xu.  b  Psal  bdii. 

c  Ho3.  vi. 


398 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


Tart  II. 


forth  be  prepared  before  you  as  the  morning,  and  he  would 
be  still  visiting  you  with  fresh  and  increasing  light;  where- 
upon your  pleasure  would  be  renewed  and  increased  by 
every  fresh  view,  and  consequently  your  progress  would 
be  from  sight  to  sight,  and  from  pleasure  to  pleasure ; 
whereas  now  this  wheel  stands  still,  or  you  are  going  back 
into  darkness  and  desolation.  Have  you  not  much  the 
more  to  answer  for  upon  this  account  1  The  like  may 
be  said  as  to  the  rest.  The  irrectitude  and  great  fault iness 
of  your  thoughts  of  God,  though  that  contribute  not  a  little 
to  your  not  delighting  in  him,  yet  also  if  you  did  delight  in 
him  more,  would  not  your  thoughts  of  him  be  more  deeply 
serious,  more  highly  raised  "?  Would  you  not  be  very 
unapt  to  take  up  injurious  hard  thoughts  of  him  1  Would 
not  his  thoughts  (once  become  precious  to  you)  be  also  nu- 
merous, or  innumerable  rather,  as  the  sands  of  the  sea- 
shore ?d  Would  not  your  earthly  temper,  your  strangeness 
and  averseness  to  him,  vanish  and  wear  off,  if  you  were 
more  exercised  in  actual  delightful  converse  with  him  1 
Therelbre  the  permanency  and  increase  of  those  mentioned 
evils,  and  that  they  have  got  such  settled  rooting  in  you,  is 
all  to  be  charged  upon  your  not  applying  yourselves  to 
more  frequent  actual  delight  in  God.  Besides  what  may 
further  follow  hereupon,  the  languishment  and  decays  of 
your  inward  man  ;  the  difficulty  you  find  to  trust  in  God, 
when  you  are  reduced  to  straits,  (as  who  would  commit 
his  concernments  to  one  he  doth  not  love  1)  your  impa- 
tience of  adverse  and  cross  emergencies,  that  may  often 
befall  to  you ;  your  aptness  to  vexation  or  despondency ; 
the  easy  victory  a  temptation  hath  over  you ;  (as  surely  he 
is  sooner  drawn  away  from  God,  or  into  sin  against  him, 
who  delights  not  in  him  ;)  your  less  usefulness  in  your 
place  and  station ;  your  want  of  courage,  resolution,  zeal 
for  God;  (which  are  best  maintained  by  delight,  and  the 
relishes  of  a  sweet  complacency  taken  in  him  ;)  your  slug- 
gishness in  a  course  of  well  doing ;  the  sense  of  a  toilsome, 
heavy  labour  in  religion,  that  it  begets  you  weariness  with- 
out rest ;  (whence  you  rather  aflect  a  rest  from  it,  than  in 
it  and  by  it ;)  and  lastly,  your  continual  bondage  by  the  fear 
of  death,  which  one  would  not  dread,  apprehending  it  only 
a  removal  into  his  presence  in  whom  I  delight.  All  these 
things  (which  might  have  been  distinctly  insisted  on,  and 
more  expressly  accommodated  to  the  present  purpose,  but 
that  I  would  not  be  over-tedious,  and  that  somewhere  else 
some  or  other  of  them  may  fall  again  in  our  way)  do  bring 
in  great  and  weighty  additions  to  the  evil  and  guiltiness 
of  this  sin,  and  much  tend  to  lay  load  upon  it,  to  fill  up  its 
measure,  even  unto  pressing  down  and  running  over.  For 
how  just  is  it,  to  impute  to  it  what  it  naturally  causes,  and 
lay  its  own  impure  and  viperous  births  at  its  own  door ! 

And  though  this  discourse  hath  been  drawn  out  to  a 
greater  length  than  was  intended,  it  will  not  be  lost  labour, 
if  by  all  that  hath  been  said,  any  that  fear  God  shall  be 
brought  to  apprehend  more  of  the  odiousness  of  this  sin  ; 
and  the  self-indulgent  thought  be  banished  far  from  them, 
that  this  is  either  an  indifferent  matter,  or  at  least  (if  it  be 
somewhat  a  careless)  'tis  one  of  their  more  harmless  inad- 
vertencies and  omissions.  Which  good  effect,  if  through 
the  blessing  of  God  it  may  accomplish,  there  will  be  the 
less  need  unto  such  to  read  on,  but  take  their  nearer  way 
to  the  immediate  present  practice  of  this  great  duty,  and 
because  also  it  is  to  be  hoped,  that  the  evil  of  this  neglect 
once  apprehended,  will  prompt  and  quicken  serious  and 
considering  persons  to  set  upon  the  enjoined  duly  ;  it  will 
be  the  less  necessary  to  enlarge  much  in  that  other  kind  of 
discourse  which  we  now  come  to,  viz. 

II.  Invitation  thereunto.  Wherein  yet  we  have  reason 
to  fear  it  may  be  too  needful  to  place  some  part  of  our 
present  labour.  For  though  in  matters  of  an  infinitely  in- 
ferior nature  and  concernment.,  any  practice  is  readily  un- 
dertaken that  is  once  represented  reasonable  and  gainful ; 
in  such  a  business  as  this,  a  hundred  difficulties  are  ima- 
gined ;  we  stand  as  persons  that  cannot  find  their  hands ; 
and  all  the  question  is,  (even  if  there  be  some  inclination 
to  it,  or  conviction  at  least  it  should  be  done,)  but  how 
shall  we  go  about  it  1  We  are  apt  to  grope  as  in  the  dark, 
even  at  noon-day,  and  cannot  find  the  door  or  way  that 
leads  into  a  practice  wherein  there  is  so  much  both  of 
pleasantness  and  duty.  Therefore  as  the  case  is,  the  invi- 
dPsol.  cxxxix. 


tation  to  this  exercise  ought,  if  it  were  possible,  to  be  a 
kind  of  manuduclion;  and  it  is  needful  we  be  not  only 
called  and  pressed,  but  even  led  into  it.  This  then  we 
are  to  endeavour,  the  giving  of  some  plain  prescriptions 
that  may  put  us  into  an  easy  and  direct  way  of  falling  ex- 
peditely  upon  this  delightful  work.  And  here  it  must  be 
considered,  that  all  (as  hath  been  said)  are  not  in  an  equal 
disposition  to  it.  Some  are  more  averse,  others  less,  but 
all  too  much ;  therefore  are  we  to  begin  as  low  as  their 
case  may  require,  who  are  less  disposed;  and  so  proceed- 
ing on  in  our  course,  somewhat  may  fall  in  more  suitable  to 
them  who  are  in  some  disposition  to  it,  but  do  yet  need  (as 
who  do  not  ?)  some  help  and  furtherance  in  order  thereto. 

First  therefore.  It  is  necessary,  that  you  do  deliberately 
and  resolvedly  design  the  thing  itself.  Propose  to  your- 
selves delighting  in  God  as  a  business  unto  which  you  will 
designedly  and  with  steadfast  purpose  apply  your  Avhole 
soul.  Content  not  yourselves  with  light  roving  thoughts 
about  it,  which  many  have  about  divers  matters  which 
they  never  think  fit  to  engage  themselves  in.  Determine 
the  matter  fully  in  your  own  heart,  and  say,  "  Many  pro- 
jects 1  have  tried  in  my  time,  sundry  things  I  have  turned 
my  mind  unto,  to  little  purpose,  I  will  now  see  what  there 
is  of  delight  to  be  found  in  God.  The  sloth-  and  aversion 
of  a  backward  heart  must  be  overcome  by  resolution  ;  and 
that  resolution  be  well-weighed,  deliberately  taken  up, 
deeply  fixed,  that  it  may  last  and  overcome.  And  why 
should  you  not  be  resolved  in  this  point "?  Is  this  a  matter 
always  to  be  waived  1  Know  you  another  way  to  be  happy  1 
Are  you  yet  to  learn,  that  a  reasonable  soul  needs  the  ful- 
ness of  God  to  make  it  happy,  and  that  there  is  no  other 
God  but  one  "?  Can  there  be  any  dispute  or  doubt  in  the 
case,  when  there  is  but  one  thing  to  be  done,  besides  yield- 
ing oneself  to  be  miserable  for  ever  1  And  what  need  of 
that  while  yet  there  is  one  way  to  avoid  it  1  Surely,  that 
there  is  but  one,  is  better  than  if  there  were  a  thousand. 
You  need  not  now  be  long  in  choosing;  nor  do  you  need 
to  deliberate,  because  of  any  doubt  in  the  case,  but  that 
you  may  more  fully  comprehend  in  your  own  thoughts 
that  there  is  none,  and  that  your  resolution  may  hereupon 
grow  the  more  peremptory,  and  secure  from  the  danger  of 
any  change. 

To  talk  of  any  difficulty  in  the  matter,  is  a  strange  ira- 
pertinency;  for  who  would  oppose  difficulty  to  necessity  1 
or  allege  the  thing  is  hard  which  must  be  done  1  Or  must 
it  be  done,  and  never  be  attempted "?  or  attempted,  and  not 
be  resolved  upon  1  You  have  nothing  to  do  to  read  further, 
who  will  not  digest  this  first  counsel,  and  here  settle  your 
resolution,  "  I  will  apply  myself  to  a  course  of  delight  in 
God."  If  this  appear  not  reasonable  to  j^ou,  despair  that 
any  thing  will  that  follows.  'Tis  foolish  trifling,  to  look 
upon  such  writings  that  profess  their  design,  and  have  in 
it  their  fronts,  that  they  are  meant  for  helps  unto  Christian 
practice,  only  with  a  humour  of  seeing  what  a  man  can 
say.  And  if  ever  you  will  be  in  earnest,  you  must  return 
to  this  point ;  and  will  but  waste  time  to  no  purpose,  if 
you  will  not  now  set  down  your  resolution;  that  is,  that 
}'ou  will  seek  a  happiness  for  your  soul,  (loo  long  already 
neglected!)  a  happiness  that  may  satisfy  and  last;  and 
(where  only  it  is  to  be  found)  in  the  blessed  God;  and  in 
him  by  setting  yourselves  to  delight  in  him;  since  nothing 
can  make  you  happy  wherein  you  delight  not.  And  that 
you  will  make  use  of  what  you  further  read,  according  as 
you  find  it  conducing,  and  apt  to  serve  your  purpose  herein. 
Then  next, 

2.  Consider  your  present  state  God-ward.  Must  you, 
do  you  see  you  must,  come  to  this  point,  of  having  your 
delight  in  God  1  In  what  posture  then  are  yourafiairs  to- 
wards him"?  How  do  things  stand  between  him  and  you  1 
You  do  well  know,  you  were  unacceptable  to  him,  and 
his  enemy ;  and  that  his  justice  and  holy  nature  obliged 
him  to  hold  you  as  such,  though  he  never  gave  you  ground 
to  think  him  implacable.  Can  you  delight  in  an  enemy? 
who  (as  matters  in  that  case  stand)  must  be  apprehended 
ready  to  avenge  himself  on  you,  and  as  having  whet  his 
glittering  sword,  and  made  the  arrow  ready  upon  the 
string,  directed  against  your  very  heart !  Apprehend  this 
to  have  been  your  case,  and  most  deservedly,  that  you 
were  an  impure,  hateful  wretch,  deformed  and  loalliso'me, 


Part  II. 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


399 


one  that  could  )'ield  the  holy  God  no  matter  of  delight,  full 
of  enmity  and  contrariety  to  iiim,  and  in  whom  he  could 
not  but  find  much  cause  of  most  just  hatred.  Remember 
you  were  one  of  his  rev'olted  creatures,  under  his  most  de- 
served wrath  and  curse.  Know  at  how  vast  a  distance  you 
were  from  delighting  in  him,  or  a  state  that  could  admit 
of  it.  Consider,  is  this  still  your  ca.se  1  And  do  not  rashly 
think  it  altered;  or  that  you  have  nothing  to  do,  but  out 
of  hand  to  rush  upon  the  business  of  delighting  in  God. 

3.  Yet  do  not  think  it  unalterable.  Do  not  conclude  it 
as  a  determined  and  undoubted  thing,  that  matters  can  ne- 
ver be  taken  up  between  God  and  you,  or  you  become  suit- 
able and  acceptable  to  him.  Look  not  upon  your  vile 
wicked  heart  as  unalterably  wicked  ;  nor  upon  him  there- 
fore as  an  irreconcileable  enemy.  Account  he  waits  for 
your  turning  to  him,  as  being  inclined  to  friendship  with 
you.  Otherwise,  would  vengeance  have  suflered  you  so 
long  to  live  1  Have  you  not  been  long  at  his  mercy  '?  Hath 
he  not  spared  you,  when  it  was  in  his  power  to  crush  you 
at  pleasure  1  Do  not  think  therefore  (what  you  have  no 
pretence  for)  that  he  hath  a  destructive  design  upon  you, 
and  will  accept  of  no  atonement. 

4.  Acquaint  yourself  with  the  way  and  terms  upon 
which  his  Gospel  declares  him  reconcileable;  that  is,  that 
he  will  never  be  reconciled  to  you  while  you  remain  wick- 
ed, nor  for  your  own  sake,  become  you  never  so  good  : 
that  a  more  costly  sacrifice  than  you  can  either  procure  or 
be,  must  expiate  your  guilt,  and  make  your  peace.  If  this 
matter  could  have  been  effected  in  a  less  expensive  way, 
the  son  of  God  had  not  (as  you  know  he  was)  been  de- 
signed himself,  and  made  that  sacrifice  ;  nor  a  work  have 
been  undertaken  by  him  that  might  as  well  have  been  done 
by  common  hands.  And  since  he  submitted  and  under- 
took as  he  did,  reckon  with  yourself,  how  highly  just  it  is, 
that  the  entire  honour  of  so  mercil\tl  condescension,  and 
so  great  a  performance,  be  wholly  ascribed  to  him.  But 
withal  know,  he  shed  his  blood,  not  in  kindness  to  your 
sin,  but  to  you  :  and  that  his  design  was  at  once  to  pro- 
cure ti.e  death  of  that,  and  your  life;  that  you  need  his 
Spirit  as  well  as  his  blood ;  that  to  recommend  and  recon- 
cile you  to  his  holiness,  as  well  as  t/iis  to  his  vindictive  jus- 
tice; that  as  you  expect  ever  to  experience  and  taste  the 
delights  of  that  communion,  whereinto  he  calls  you,  you 
must  not  only  have  the  "  blood  of  Christ  to  cleanse  j'ou 
from  all  sin,"  but  must  also  "  -walk  in  the  light,  as  he 
is  in  the  light ;"  «that  an  entire  resignation,  a  betrusling 
and  subjecting  yourself  to  the  mercy  and  governing  power 
of  the  Redeemer,  is  necessary  to  the  setting  of  things  right 
between  God  and  you  ;  in  whom  only  you  may  both  accept 
God  and  be  accepted  of  him ;  that  he  must  be  the  centre 
of  union  between  God  and  you  ;  and  that  union  the  ground 
of  all  delightful  intercourse. 

5.  Make  request  to  him,  that  he  would  draw  you  into 
that  union  with  his  Son  ;  unto  whom  none  can  come,  but 
who  are  drawn  by  himselff  Do  not  dream  and  slumber 
in  this  business  ;  but  know  your  all  depends  upon  it.  Con- 
sider the  exigency  of  your  case.  Do  you  find  your  heart 
sluggish  and  indisposed  to  any  such  transaction  with  God 
and  Christ  "?  Doth  it  decline  and  draw  back  ?  Know,  it 
herein  doth  but  act  its  own  nature,  and  do  as  it  is,  or  like 
itself.  Therefore  stir  up  yourself,  to  lake  hold  of  his 
strength  ;  e  in  which  way,  if  you  have  mind  to  be  at  peace, 
you  shall  make  peace.  Cry  to  him  earnestly,  "  Draw  a 
poor  wretch  out  of  darkness  and  death,  that  must  other- 
wise be  at  eternal  distance  from  thee,  and  be  miserable 
for  ever.  Join  me  to  him  who  will  bring  me  to  thee,  and 
make  me  one  for  ever  with  thee."     Hereupon, 

6.  Acceping  Jesus  Christ  as  thy  Saviour  and  thv  Lord, 
accept  in  him.  with  all  humble  reverence,  thankfulness,  and 
admiration  of  Divine  mercy  and  goodness,  the  blessed  God 
to  be  thy  God;  surrendering  and  yielding  up  ihvself  en- 
tirely and  fully  to  be  his  forever.  Do  this  unfeignedly, 
and  with  great  solemnity  ;  and  let  it  be  to  thee  for  an  ever- 
lasting memorial !  Record  it  as  a  memorable  day,  where- 
in thou  didst  go  out  of  thyself,  and  all  finite,  narrow,  limit- 
ed good,  and  pass  into  union  with  the  eternal,  immense, 
incomprehensible,  and  all-comprehending  good,  and  enter 
iipon  it  as  thine  own  !  And  what !  wilt  thou  delight  in  a 
Grod  that  is  not  thine  ?  Canst  thou  be  content  to  look  wist- 

e  1  John  xvii.  r  jqI,,,  vi. 


ly  on  him,  as  one  unrelated,  and  a  stranger  1  Apprehend 
(and  bless  God  that  this  is  the  state  of  the  case)  that  in 
this  way  he  offers  himself  most  freely  to  thee.  It  were  as- 
tonishing to  think  of  purchasing  so  great  a  good  !  The 
matter  were  not  to  be  offered  at.  But  how  tran.sporting  is 
it,  that  nothing  but  acceptance  and  resignation  should  be 
needful  to  make  thee  one  with  the  great  God,  and  make 
his  fulness  thine!  Therefore  make'haste  to  do  this,  and 
be  not  hasty  in  doing  it.  Defer  not,  but  do  it  with  great 
seriousness,  deliberation,  and  fulness  of  consent;  consi- 
dering you  are  about  to  enter  into  an  everlasting  covenant 
not  to  be  forgotten;  and  doing  a  thing  never  to  be  again  un- 
done. Now  if  herein  your  heart  be  sincere,  and  there  be  a 
real  and  vital  exercise  of  your  very  soul  in  this  transaction 
with  God  in  Christ,  so  as  that  you  truly  take  him  for  your 
God,  preferring  him  in  your  estimation  and  choice  above 
all  things,  and  giving  up  yourself  absolutely  and  without 
reservation  to  him  as  his,  to  be  governed  and  disposed  of 
by  him  in  all  things  at  his  pleasure ;  you  are  hereby 
brought  into  that  state  that  doth  admit  of  delighting  in  him. 
And  what  remains  to  be  said,  will  concern  you,  as  per- 
sons in  a  nearer  capacity,  and  who  have  a  kind  of  funda- 
mental aptitude  and  disposedness  of  heart  unto  this  spirit- 
ual work ;  and  will  therefore  be  directed  to  you,  consi- 
dered according  to  that  supposition.  Only  it  is  withal  to 
he  considered  in  the  case  of  many  such,  that  they  were 
arrived  hither  long  ago,  and  been  (as  was  before  supposed) 
hereupon  somewhat  exercised  and  versed  in  this  piece  of 
holy  practice,  have  had  many  pleasant  turns  wiili  God, 
and  tasted  often  thedelightsof  his  converse  :  but  have  dis- 
continued their  course,  and  are  grown  strange  to  him  who 
was  their  delight ;  have  suffered  themselves  b}'  insensible 
degrees  to  be  drawn  and  tempted  away  from  him  ;  or  there 
hath  been  some  grosser  and  more  violent  rupture,  by  which 
they  have  broken  themselves  off.  It  will  be  requisite  to 
say  somewhat  more  peculiar  to  these,  for  the  reducing  of 
them  again  even  to  this  unitive  point.  After  which,  what 
shall  ensue,  may  in  common  concern  them,  and  all  that  are 
arrived  so  far,  together.  For  such  therefore  whose  case 
this  is,  it  will  surely  both  become  and  concern  you  to  take 
this  course  : 

1.  Make  a  stand,  and  bethink  yourselves  ;  Can  you  jus- 
tify your  carriage  towards  him  whom  you  have  taken  to 
be  your  God  1  Can  3'ou  approve  your  own  way  7  Was 
this  all  that  you  obliged  yourselves  unto  in  the  day  of  your 
solemn  treaty  with  him  ;  only  to  take  on  )'ou  the  name  of 
a  relation  to  him,  and  so  (excepting  that  you  would  now 
and  then  compliment  him  in  some  piece  of  external, 
heartless  homage)  take  leave  till  you  meet  again  with  him 
in  another  world  1  And  that  in  the  meantime  this  pre- 
sent world,  or  your  carnal  self,  (to  he  gratified  and 
served  out  of  it,)  should  really  be  your  God,  and  he  only 
bear  the  name  1  Was  this  indeed  your  meaning  1  or  if  it 
was,  did  you  deal  sincerely  in  that  treaty  ?  or  can  you 
think  it  was  his  meaning,  and  that  he  would  expect  no 
more  from  you  1  Can  you  allow  yourselves  so  to  interpret 
his  covenant,  and  give  this  as  the  summarv  account  of  ihe 
tenor  of  it  1  How  would  you  then  expound  it  to  nothing, 
and  make  a  mere  trifle  of  it,  and  make  your  religion  a  fit- 
ter service  for  an  inanimate,  senseless  idol,  than  the  living 
and  true  God  !  Do  you  not  yet  know  what  the  name  of  God 
imports  1  Can  he  be  a  God  to  j-ou  that  is  not  acknowledged 
by  you  as  your  very  best,  the  universal,  and  ab.<;olutely  all- 
comprehending  good  1  But  if  you  apprehend  there  was 
really  more  in  the  matter,  and  that  you  have  been  altoge- 
ther faulty  in  this  thing:  then, 

2.  Represent  to  yourselves  as  full}-  as  you  can  the  great- 
ness of  the  fault.  What !  have  yon  made  God  an  unneces- 
sary thing  to  you,  while  the  creature,  vour  verv  idols,  ly- 
ing vanities,  were  thought  necessary  1  And  these  were 
the  things  upon  which  you  thought  fit  to  set  your  hearts! 
which  5'ou  have  loved,  which  vou  have  seived.aller  which 
you  have  walked,  which  you  have  sought,  and  whom  you 
have  worshipped  !''  The  heap  of  expressions  wherewith 
it  seemed  meet  to  the  spirit  of  God  to  set  out  the  profuse 
lavishness  of  idolatrous  aflection.  Think  how  monstrous 
this  is  !  Revolve  in  your  mind  the  several  aggravations 
of  j'our  sinful  neglect  before  mentioned  :  and  labour  to  feel 
the  weight  of  them  upon  your  own  spirits.     Think  what 

g  Isa.  xxvii.  h  Jor.  viii.  2. 


400 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


Part  II. 


time  you  have  lost  from  pleasant  delightful  walking  with 
God !  what  damage  j'ou  have  done  yourselves  !  how  far 
you  might  have  attained  !  how  muJh  you  are  cast  behind 
in  your  preparations  for  a  blessed  eternity  !  what  wrong 
you  have  done  him,  whom  you  took  for  the  God  of  your 
life,  to  whom  you  vowed  your  hearts  and  souls  !  how  lit- 
tle kindly  and  truly  you  have  dealt  with  him! 

3.  Return  to  him  with  weeping  and  supplication.  Open 
yourselves  freely  to  him.  Let  him  hear  you  bemoaning 
yourselves,  pour  out  your  souls  to  him,  in  large  acknow- 
ledgments, and  confessions  of  your  guiltiness,  which, 
while  you  keep  silence,  will  consume  your  bones  and 
waste  you  to  nothing.  "  Remember  whence  you  are  fal- 
len, and  repent  and  do  your  first  works."'  Till  then  he 
hath  this  against  you,  that  you  have  left  your  first  love. 
And  consider,  is  it  not  a  grievous  thing  to  you  1  Doth  it 
not  pain  your  hearts,  that  your  Lord  and  Redeemer  should 
have  somewhat  against  you,  as  it  were  laid  up,  noted  and 
put  on  record,  kept  in  store,  and,  as  himself  remarkably 
expresses  it,  sealed  up  among  his  treasures; ''  somewhat 
that  sticks  with  him,  and  which  he  bears  in  mind,  and 
hath  lying  in  his  heart  against  you.  Is  this  a  small 
thing  with  you  when  that  must  be  apprehended  to  be 
his  sense  1  (and  suppose  him  saying  to  you,)  I  remem- 
ber the  kindness  of  thy  youth,  the  love  of  thine  espou- 
sals 1 '  And  now  since  those  former  days,  "  What  iniqui- 
ty hast  thou  found  in  me,  that  thou  art  gone  far  from  me, 
and  hast  walked  after  vanity,  and  art  become  vain  V  How 
confounding  a  thing  were  it,  if  he  should  say,  as  some- 
time to  others  in  a  case  resembling  yours,  (and  why  should 
you  not  take  it  as  equally  belonging  to  you  1)  O  my  peo- 
ple, what  have  I  done  unto  thee  1  and  wherein  have  I 
wearied  thee?  testify  against  me:  m  and  while  the  case  ad- 
mits such  sharp  and  cutting  rebuke,  and  that  it  is  the  mat- 
ter of  rebuke  (not  rebuke  itself  abstracted  from  the  mat- 
ter, i.  e.  if  it  were  causeless)  that  should  smart  or  wound  ; 
how  becoming  is  it,  and  suitable  to  the  case,  to  cast  down 
a  wounded,  bleeding  heart  before  the  Lord,  and  be  abased 
in  the  dust  at  the  foot-stool  of  his  mercy  seat !  And  though 
your  sin  be  great  and  heinous  ; 

4.  Yet  apprehend  you  are  before  a  mercy-seat;  that 
'■  There  is  forgiveness  with  him  that  he  may  be  feared." 
How  would  this  apprehension  promote  the  humiliation 
which  the  case  requires !  A  sullen  despondency  that  ex- 
cludes hope  of  mercy,  hardens  the  heart;  continues  the 
sinful,  comfortless  distance.  Therefore  apply  yourselves 
to  him;  seek  his  pardon  in  the  blood  of  the  Redeemer; 
know  you  need  it,  and  that  it  is  only  upon  such  terms  to 
be  obtained.  Yet  also  take  heed  lest  any  diminishing 
thoughts  of  the  evil  of  your  sin  return,  and  make  you  ne- 
glect the  thing,  or  waive  the  known  stated  way  of  remission. 
We  are  apt  to  look  upon  crimes  whereby  men  are  imme- 
diately offended,  and  which  therefore  are  of  worse  repu- 
tation among  men,  as  robbery,  murder,  &c.  as  very  horrid. 
This  is  a  matter  that  lies  immediately  between  Spirit  and 
spirit ;  the  God  of  the  spirits  of  all  flesh  and  your  spirit. 
You  have  had  a  solemn  transaction  with  hini,  and  have 
dealt  falsely.  And  though  the  matter  were  secret  between 
God  and  you,  is  it  the  less  evil  in  itself  for  that  1  If  you 
had  dealt  unworthily,  and  used  base  treachery  towards  a 
friend,  in  a  matter  only  known  to  him  and  yourself,  would 
you  not,  when  you  have  reflected,  blush  to  see  his  face,  till 
matters  be  composed  betwixt  youl  And  is  there  another 
way  of  having  them  composed,  and  of  restoring  delightful 
friendly  converse,  than  by  your  seeking  his  pardon,  and  his 
granting  it  1  Could  you  have  the  confidence  to  put  your- 
self upon  conversing  with  him  as  at  former  times,  without 
such  a  preface  1  or  were  it  not  great  immodesty  and  impu- 
dence to  offer  at  it  1  But  that  when  this  hath  been  the  case 
between  the  blessed  God  and  you,  and  you  now  come  with 
deep  resentments,  and  serious  unfeigned  acknowledgments 
of  your  most  offensive  neglects  of  him,  to  seek  forgiveness 
at  his  hand,  he  should  be  easy  and  facile  to  forgive  ;  how 
should  this  melt  you  down  before  him  !  And  this  is  what 
his  own  word  obliges  you  to  apprehend  and  believe  of 
him.  These  words  he  hath  required  to  be  proclaimed  to 
you  ;  n  Return  you  backsliding  ones,  and  I  will  not  cause 
mine  anger  to  fall  upon  you  ;  for  I  am  merciful,  saith  the 
Lord,  and  I  will  not  keep  anger  forever.     Only  acknow- 

i  Rov.  ii.  k  Deut.  xxxii.  1  Jer.  ii.  m  Mic.  vi.  3. 


ledge  your  iniquity,  that  you  have  transgressed  against  the 
Lord  your  God,  and  have  scattered  your  ways  to  the  stran- 
gers under  every  green  tree;  (your  offence  hath  been  idol- 
atry as  well  as  theirs;)  turn,  O  backsliding  children,  saith 
the  Lord ;  for  I  am  married  unto  you." 

What  heart  would  not  break  and  bleed  at  this  overture ! 
You  can  be  recovered  to  no  capacity  of  delighting  in  God, 
as  heretofore,  till  you  sensibly  feel  the  need  of  great  for- 
giveness, and  have  a  disposition  of  heart  inwardly  to  relish 
the  sweetness  and  pleasantness  of  it;  till  those  words  do 
agree  with  the  sense  of  your  hearts,  and  you  can  (as  in  a 
transport)  cry  out,  O  the  blessedness  of  the  man  (as  the 
expression  imports)  whose  iniquity  is  forgiven,  and  whose 
sin  is  covered!  p  &-c.  And  now  when  you  are  come  thus 
far,  if  the  temper  of  your  spirit  be  right  even  in  this,  there 
Avill  be  in  conjunction  with  the  desire,  hope,  and  value  of 
forgiveness,  at  least  an  equal  dread  of  such  future  strange- 
nesses and  breaches  between  God  and  you :  and  that  m  ill 
be  very  natural  to  you,  which  I  next  add  as  further  advice : 

5.  Most  earnestly  seek  and  crave  a  belter  and  more  fixed 
temper  of  spirit ;  more  fully  determined  and  bent  Godward; 
that  your  heart  may  be  directed  into  the  love  of  God;  i  that 
the  spirit  of  love,  power,  and  a  sound  mind  may  bear  rule  in 
you.  Be  intent  upon  the  recovery  of  that  healthy  soundness, 
which  wheresoever  it  hath  place,  will  with  a  certain  steady 
power,  and  a  strong  inclining  bent  of  love,  carry  your  heart 
toward  God.  And  take  heed  lest  you  be  satisfied  in  the  ex- 
pectation and  hope  of  forgiveness,  as  to  your  former  neglects 
of  God  without  this;  there  is  a  manifest  prejudice  daily  ac- 
cruing to  the  Christian  name  and  profession,  by  the  un- 
equal estimation  which  that  part  of  the  doctrine  of  Christ 
hath,  that  concerns  the  work  of  his  Spirit  upon  us,  regenera- 
tion, the  new  creature,  repentance,  and  a  holy  life ;  in  com- 
parison of  that  which  concerns  his  performances  and  acqui- 
sitions for  us,  expiation  of  sin,  satisfaction  of  Divine  justice, 
forgiveness,  and  acceptance  with  God.  How  sweet,  ravish- 
ing, transporting  doctrines,  and  how  pure  Gospel  are  these 
latter  accounted  by  many,  who  esteem  the  former  cold,  sap- 
less, unplea.sant  notions !  Thence  comes  Christian  reli- 
gion to  look  with  so  distorted  a  face  and  aspect,  as  if  it  suf- 
fered a  convulsion,  that  hath  altered  and  disguised  it  unto 
that  degree,  that  it  is  hardly  to  be  known ;  being  made  to 
seem  as  if  it  imported  only  a  design  to  rescne  some  persons 
from  Divine  wrath  and  ju.stice,  without  ever  giving  them 
that  disposition  of  heart  which  is  necessary  both  to  their 
serving  of  God  and  their  blessedness  in  him.  This  is  not  to 
be  imputed  so  much  to  the  misrepresentation  made  of  it  by 
them,  whose  business  it  hath  been  to  instruct  others ;  (though 
of  them  too  many  may  have  been  very  faulty  in  almost  sup- 
pressing or  insisting  less,  or  very  little,  upon  doctrines  of  the 
former  strain,while  the  stream  oftheir  discourses  hath  most- 
ly run  upon  the  other ;)  for  it  must  be  acknowledged,  that 
by  very  many  in  our  age,  the  absolute  necessity  of  the 
great  heart-change  hath  been  both  most  clearly  represent- 
ed, and  as  urgently  pressed  as  perhaps  in  most  that  have 
gone  before.  But  the  matter  is  plainly  to  be  most  attribu- 
ted to  that  depravednessof  man's  nature,  whence  there  is  a 
most  unequal  and  partial  reception  of  the  truth  of  God ;  and 
that  which  seems  (taken  apart  by  itself)  to  import  more  of  in- 
dulgence to  sinners  is  readily  caught  at,  that  which  more 
directly  strikes  at  the  very  root  of  sin,  is  let  pass  as  if  it 
had  never  been  spoken.  And  so  men  make  up  to  them- 
selves a  gospel  of  this  tenor  and  import,  that  let  the  tem- 
per of  their  spirits  towards  God  be  what  it  will,  if  they  re- 
ly and  rest  upon  the  righteousness  of  Christ,  God  will  be 
reconciled  to  them.  And  they  think  they  need  take  no 
further  care.  But  whatever  is  said  in  the  Gospel  of  Christ 
besides,  of  the  necessity  of  being  born  of  God,  of  parta- 
king a  divine  nature,  of  putting  off  the  old  man,  and  put- 
ting on  the  new,  &c.  is  looked  upon  as  if  it  had  been  thrown 
in  by  chance, and  did  signify  nothing.  And  the  other, without 
this,  is  thought  to  be  pure  Gospel ;  as  if  these  were  imperti- 
nent additions  and  falsifications.  Biit  will  not  such  men 
understand  that  the  detracting  of  arwy  thing  from  the 
instrument  or  testament  of  a  man,  as  well  as  adding 
thereto,  makes  it  another  thing,  and  none  of  his  act  or 
deed  1  And  so  that  their  pure  Gospel,  as  they  call  it,  is 
another  Gospel,  nay  (because  there  cannot  be  another) 
no  Gospel  1     Or  will   they  not  understand,  how  simply 

n  Jer.  iii.  12.  o  Vor.  13.  p  Psal.  xxxii.  1.  q  2  Thosi.  iiL  5. 


Part  II. 


OF  DELIGHTIKG  IN  GOD. 


401 


impossible  it  is,  in  the  very  nature  of  the  thing,  that  the 
end  should  be  attained,  of  bringing  men  to  blessedness, 
(i.  e.  to  a  delightful  rest  in  God,)  ■without  their  having  a 
new  nature,  a  heart  inclined  and  bent  toward  God,  wrought 
to  a  conformity  and  agreement  with  God's  own  holy  na- 
ture and  will,  unto  which  the  offer  of  hope  and  forgiveness 
by  the  blood  of  Christ  is  designed  to  win  and  form  them  1 
For  can  men  be  happy  in  him  in  whom  they  take  no  de- 
light 1  or  delight  in  him  to  whom  the  very  temper  of  their 
spirits  is  habitually  unsuitable  and  repugnant  1  How  plain 
are  things  to  them'  that  are  not  resolved  not  to  see! 

AVherefore  beware  of  contenting  yourselves  with  the 
mere  hope,  that  upon  your  having  admitted  a  conviction, 
and  felt  some  regret  in  your  spirits  for  former  strangeness 
to  God,  you  shall  be  pardoned ;  so  as  thereupon  never  to 
design  a  redress,  but  run  on  the  same  course  as  before : 
and  when  you  have  hereby  contracted  a  new  score,  and 
the  load  of  your  guilt  begins  to  be  sensibly  heavy  upon 
you,  then  betake  yourselves  to  God  for  a  new  pardon. 
What  presumpti>ous  trifling  is  this  with  the  Lord  of  hea- 
ven and  earth !  And  what  do  you  mean  by  it,  or  seem  to 
expect  1  Is  it  not,  that  Gk)d  should  instead  of  remitting 
your  sin  to  you  remit  your  duty;  cancel  the  obligation  of 
that  very  supreme,  universal,  fundamental  law  of  nature 
itself,  and  excuse  you  quite  from  ever  hwing,  delighting 
in  him,  or  setting  your  heart  upon  him  at  all  1  Think  not 
forgiveness  alone  then  will  serve  your  turn;  it  will  signify 
as  much  as  a  pardon  will  do  to  a  malefactor  just  ready  to 
die  of  a  mortal  disease.  He,  poor  man  !  as  much  needs  a 
skilful  physician,  as  a  merciful  prince;  and  so  do  you. 
And  your  matter  is  nothing  the  worse  (sure)  that  the  per- 
son of  each  is  sustained  by  the  same  Jesus,  and  that  both 
parts  can  be  performed  by  the  same  hand.  And  know,  that 
a  restored  rectitude  of  spirit  God-ward,  a  renewed  healthi- 
ness and  soundness  of  heart,  with  your  actual  delighting 
in  God  thereupon  in  your  future  course,  stands  in  nearer 
and  more  immediate  connexion  with  your  final,  perfect, 
delightful  rest  and  blessedness  in  him,  than  your  being 
perpetually  forgiven  the  not  doing  of  it;  if  this  were  sup- 
posed possible  without  that.  But  it  is  not  indeed  supposa- 
ble,  for  if  God  would  not  therefore  hereafter  banish  you 
his  presence,  (as  now  he  does  not,)  you  would  for  ever 
banish  yourselves,  as  now  you  do. 

6.  Let  there  be  a  solemn  recognition  and  renewal  of 
your  engagement  and  devoting  of  yourself  to  God.  Again 
take  hold  of  his  covenant,  and  see  that  it  lake  faster  hold 
of  you.  Do  it  as  if  you  had  never  done  it,  as  if  you  were 
now  to  begin  with  him;  only  that  your  own  sin  and  his 
grace  ought  now  to  appear  greater  in  your  eyes ;  that  more 
odious,  that  you  have  added  treachery  to  disaffection  ;  this 
more  glorious  and  admirable,  that  yet  he  hath  left  open  to 
you  a  door  of  hope,  and  that  there  is  place  for  repentance, 
and  that  he  is  ready  to  treat  with  you  again  on  a  new  score. 
With  what  humility,  shame,  fear,  and  trembling,  distrust 
of  yourself,  resolution  of  future  more  diligent  circumspec- 
tion and  observation  of  your  own  spirit,  trust  and  depend- 
ance  on  his,  ought  this  transaction  now  to  be  managed 
with  the  holy  God !  And  when  you  are  thus  returned 
into  the  way  and  course  of  your  duty;  then  may  what  fol- 
lows concern  you  in  comm'on  with  all  others,  that  (being 
entered)  desire  direction  how  to  proceed  and  improve  in 
this  holy  exercise  of  delighting  in  God. 

Because  such  as  have  been  somewhat  practised  in  this 
course,  and  being  convinced  of  the  equity  and  excellency 
of  it,  desire  to  make  progress  therein,  do  yet  find  a  diffi- 
culty in  it ;  it  goes  not  easily  with  them,  ihey  are  easily 
diverted  and  can  hardly  hold  on  in  it;  somewhat  is  in- 
tended to  be  said  that  possibly  may,  through  the  Lord's 
blessing,  be  of  some  use,  £is  to  that  (too  common)  case. 

L  First  then.  Let  it  be  your  great  study  and  endeavour  to 
get  a  temper  of  mind  actually,  ordinarily,  and  more  entirely 
spiritual.  We  suppose  the  implantation  of  some  holy  and 
spiritual  principles  in  you  already  ;  but  that  is  not  enough. 
For  as  a  mind  wholly  carnal,  only  savours  the  things  of 
the  flesh,  will  perpetually  withdraw  and  recoil,  if  you  offer 
it  any  thing  tending  God- ward;  so,  in  whatsoever  degree 
it  is  carnal,  it  will  do  thus  in  a  proportionable  degree.  If 
you  say,  let  me  now  apply  myself  to  some  delightful  inter- 
course with  God,  while  an  earthly  tincture  is  fresh  with 

q  Prov.  xx\'.  23. 


you,  and  it  was  .some  carnal  thing  that  made  the  last  im- 
pression upon  your  spirit,  many  excuses  will  be  found  out, 
there  will  be  manifold  diversions  ;  it  will  never  be  thought 
seasonable.  Many  other  things  will  be  judged  necessary 
to  be  minded  first.  Wherefore  fence  against  the  addict- 
edness  of  your  hearts  to  those  other  things.  And  whereas, 
through  the  great  advantages  that  sensible  things  have 
upon  your  senses  and  imagination,  you  are  in  continual 
danger  to  be  over-borne  and  held  oS  from  God  ;  this  you 
must  earnestly  intend,  to  watch  and  fortify  those  inlets, 
and  not  to  give  away  your  souls  to  sense  and  the  things  of 
sense.  Trust  not  your  senses  and  their  objects  to  parley, 
but  under  strict  inspection.  Never  suffer  that  they  should 
let  in  upon  you  what  is  suitable  and  grateful  to  ihem  at 
their  own  pleasure. 

You  need  to  have  somewhat  else  than  sense,  even  a  spi- 
rit of  might  and  power,  that  may  countermand  and  over- 
rule in  every  of  those  ports,  and  turn  the  battle  in  the  gate. 
Those  used'to  be  the  places  of  most  strength  ;  and  surely 
here  there  needs  most.  Your  case  and  present  .state  cannot 
admit  that  you  securely  give  up  yourselves  to  unmixed 
unsoJicitous  delight  even  in  the  best  object.  If  you  in- 
termit care  and  vigilancy,  you  will  soon  have  such  things 
come  in  upon  you,  as  will  make  a  worse  mixture  in  your 
delight  than  they  can  do,  and  corrupt  and  spoil  all.  Your 
delight  were  better  to  be  mixed  with  holy  care,  than  with 
sinful  vanity  ;  that  tends  to  preserve,  this  utterly  to  destroy 
it.  Your  state  is  that  of  conflict  and  warfare.  You  must 
be  content  with  such  spiritual  delight,  as  will  consist  with 
this  state.  In  a  time  of  war  and  danger,  when  a  city  is 
beset  with  a  surrounding  enemy,  and  all  the  inhabitants 
are  to  be  intent  upon  common  safety,  their  case  will  not 
admit,  that  they  should  entirely  indulge  themselves  to  ease 
and  pleasure.  And  surely  it  is  better  to  bear  the  incon- 
venience of  watching  and  guarding  themselves,  and  enjoy 
the  comforts  which  a  rational  probability  of  safety  by  such 
means  will  allow  them,  than  merely  wiih  the  mad  hope  of 
procuring  themselves  an  opportunity  and  vacancy  for  freer 
delights,  to  throw  open  their  gales,  and  permit  themselves 
andall  their  delectable  things  to  the  rapine  and  spoil  of  a 
merciless  enemy.  Understand  this  to  be  your  case.  There- 
fore strictly  guard  all  the  avenues  of  your  inward  man.  It 
is  better  resist  there  and  combat  your  enemy,  than  within 
your  walls;  who  is  more  easily  kept  than  driven  out. 
There  cause  every  occasion  and  object  (even  that  impor- 
tunes and  pretends  business  to  you)  to  make  a  stand,  and 
diligently  examme  the  errand.  Let  also  for  this  purpose 
a  spirit  of  wisdom  and  judgment  reside  here,  (the  gate  was 
wont  to  be  the  place  of  counsel  and  judgment  as  well  as 
strength,)  that  may  prudently  consider  what  is  to  be  enter- 
tained and  what  not;  and  determine  and  do  accordingly. 
But  if  you  will  have  no  rule  over  your  own  spirit,  but  let 
it  be  as  a  city  broken  down  and  Avithout  walls;'!  if  you 
will  live  careless  and  at  ease,  and  think  in  this  way  to 
have  delight  in  God;  your  delight  will  soon  find  other  ob- 
jects, and  grow  like  that  of  the  swine  wallowing  in  the 
mire,  become  sensual,  impure,  and  at  length  turn  all  to 
gall  and  wormwood. 

It  may  be  you  have  known  some  of  much  pretence  to 
piety,  that  would  allow  themselves  the  liberty  of  being 
otherwise  very  pleasant  in  their  usual  conversation;  by 
which  you  may  imagine  delight  in  God  (which  you  cannot 
suppose  such  piersons  unacquainted  with)  may  fairly  con- 
sist with  another  sort  of  delight.  Nor  indeed  is  it  to  be 
doubted  but  it  may  ;  for  the  rules  and  measures  which  the 
holy  God  hath  set  us  import  no  such  rigorous  severity,  nt)r 
do  confine  us  to  so  very  narrow  bounds,  but  that  there  is 
scope  and  latitude  enough  left  unto  the  satisfaction  of 
sober  desires  and  inclinations  that  are  of  a  meaner  kind. 
He  that  hath  adjoined  the  inferior  faculties  we  find  in 
ourselves  to  our  natures,  and  at  first  created  a  terrestrial 
paradise  for  innocent  man,  never  intended  to  forbid  the 
sratification  of  those  faculties,  nor  haih  given  us  any  reason 
To  doubt  but  that  the  lower  delights  that  are  suitable  to 
them  might  be  innocently  entertained ;  nay,  and  the  very 
rules  themselves  of  temperance  and  sobriety,  which  he 
hath  given  u.s,  for  the  guiding  and  governing  of  sensitive 
desires,  do  plainlv  imply,  that  they  are  permitted.  For 
that  which  ought  not  to  be,  is  not  to  be  regulated,  but  de- 


403 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


Part  11 


stroyed.  But  *hen,  whereas  such  rules  do  so  limit  the 
inclination.-^  and  lunctions  of  the  low  animal  life,  as  that 
they  may  be  consistent  with  our  end,  and  subservient  to 
it ;  how  perverse  and  wicked  an  indulgence  to  them  were 
it,  to  oppose  them  at  once,  both  to  the  authority  of  him 
that  set  us  those  rules,  and  (therein)  to  our  very  end  itself! 
That  delectation  in  the  things  of  this  lower  world,  which 
is  not  by  the  Divine  law  forbidden  and  declared  evil,  either 
in  itself,  or  by  the  undue  measure,  season,  or  other  cir- 
cumstances thereof,  is  abundantly  sufficient  for  our  enter- 
tainment, and  the  gratification  of  this  grosser  part,  while 
we  are  in  this  our  earthly  pilgrimage :  and  so  much  can 
never  hurt  us,  nor  hinder  our  higher  delishts.  God  hath 
fenced  and  hedged  them  in  for  us  (as  a  garden  enclosed) 
by  his  own  rules  and  laws  set  about  them  ;  so  that  we 
cannot  prejudice  or  impair  them,  but  by  breaking  through 
his  enclosure.  Our  great  care  and  study  therefore  must 
be,  to  repress  and  mortify  all  earthly  and  sensual  inclina- 
tions, unto  that  degree  as  till  they  be  reduced  to  a  con- 
formity and  agreement  with  his  rules  and  measures;  unto 
which  they  who  have  no  regard,  and  do  yet  pretend  highly 
to  spirituality  and  delight  in  God,  'tis  apparently  nothing 
else  but  mere  hollow  pretence;  they  only  put  on  a  good 
face,  and  make  a  fair  show;  look  big,  and  speak  great 
swelling  words  of  vanity,  as  they  must  be  called,  while 
their  hearts  taste  nothing  of  what  their  tongues  utter. 
Spiritual  delight  and  joy  is  a  severe  thing,  separated  from 
vain  and  unbecoming  levities,  as  well  as  from  all  earthly 
impurities ;  and  only  grows  and  flourishes  in  a  soul  that 
is  dead  to  this  world,  and  alive  to  God  through  Jesus 
Christ. 

See,  then,  to  the  usual  temper  of  your  spirit ;  and  do 
not  think  it  enough,  that  you  hope  the  great  renewing 
change  did  some  time  pass  upon  it ;  and  that,  therefore, 
your  case  is  good  and  safe,  and  you  may  now  take  your 
ease  and  liberty:  but  be  intent  upon  this,  to  get  into  a 
confirmed  growing  spirituality,  and  that  you  may  find 
you  are  in  your  ordinary  course  after  the  Spirit  ;■"  then 
will  you  savour  the  things  of  the  Spirit ;  and  then  espe- 
cially will  the  blessed  God  himself  become  your  great  de- 
light,^  and  your  exceeding  joy.  Retire  yourself  from  this 
world,  draw  off  your  mind  and  heart.  This  is  God's 
great  rival.  The  friendship  of  this  world  is  enmity  to 
him, I  which  is  elsewhere  said  of  the  carnal  mind ;"  that 
is  indeed  the  same  thing,  viz.  a  mind  that  is  over  friendly 
affected  towards  this  world,  or  not  chastely ;  wherefore 
also  in  that  forementioned  scripture,  they  that  are  sup- 
posed and  suspected  to  have  made  themselves,  in  that  un- 
due sense,  friends  of  this  world,  are  bespoken  under  the 
names  of  adulterers  and  adulteresses.  You  must  cast  ofl^ 
all  other  lovers,  if  you  intend  delighting  in  God.  Get  up, 
then,  into  the  higher  region,  where  you  may  be  out  of  the 
danger  of  having  your  spirit  ingnlphed,  and,  as  it  were, 
sucked  up  of  the  spirit  of  this  world ;  or  of  being  subject 
to  its  debasing,  stupifying  influence.  Bear  yourself  as  the 
inhabitant  of  another  country.  Make  this  j'our  mark  and 
scope,  that  the  temper  of  your  spirit  may  be  such,  that  the 
secret  of  the  Divine  presence  may  become  to  you  as  your 
very  element,  wherein  you  can  most  freely  breathe  and 
live,  and  be  most  at  ease ;  and  out  of  which  you  may  per- 
ceive you  cannot  enjoy  yourself;  and  that  whatever  tends 
to  withdraw  you  from  him,  any  extravagant  motion,  the 
beginnings  of  the  excursion,  or  the  least  departing  step, 
may  be  sensibly  painful  and  grievous  to  you.  And  do 
not  look  upon  it  as  a  hopeless  thing  you  should  ever 
come  to  this ;  some  have  come  to  it ;  One  thing  have  I 
desired  of  the  Lord,  that  will  I  seek  after,  that  I  may 
dwell  in  the  house  of  the  Lord  all  the  days  of  my  life, 
to  behold  the  beauty  of  the  Lord,  and  to  inquire  in  his 
temple.^ 

Nor  was  this  a  transient  fit  only  with  the  Psalmist,  but 
we  find  him  frequently  speaking  the  saiue  sense  :  Surel}' 
goodness  and  mercy  shall  follow  me  all  the  days  of  my 
life,  and  I  will  dwell  in  the  house  of  the  Lord  for  ever  -.y 
and  again  we  have  the  like  strains;  How  amiable  are  thy 
tabernacles,  O  Lord  God  of  hosts  I  my  soul  longeth ;  yea, 
even  fainteth  for  the  courts  of  the  Lord :  blessed  are  they 
that  dwell  in  thy  house,^  &c.     And  what  was  this  hou.se 


r  Rom.  nil.  5. 
u  Rom  viii.  7. 


a  P  al.  xlifl. 
X  Psal.  xxvii.  4. 


t  James  iv.  4. 
y  Psal.  xxiii.  6. 


more  to  him  than  another  house,  save  that  here  he  reckon- 
ed upon  enjoying  the  Divine  presence?  So  that  here  was 
a  heart  so  naturalized  to  his  presence,  as  to  affect  an  abode 
in  it,  and  that  he  might  lead  his  life  with  God,  and  dwell 
with  him  all  his  days  :  he  could  not  be  content  with  giving 
a  visit  now  and  then.  And  why  should  this  temper  oi 
spirit  in  the  clearer  light  of  the  Gospel  be  looked  upon  as 
an  unattainable  thing  1  A  lazy  despondency,  and  a  mean 
conceit,  that  it  is  modest  not  to  aim  so  high,  starves  reli- 
gion, and  stifles  all  truly  noble  and  generous  desires.  Let 
this,  then,  be  the  thing  designed  with  you,  and  constantly 
pursue  and  drive  the  design,  that  you  may  get  into  this 
disposition  of  spirit  towards  God.  His  Spirit  will  not  be 
restrained,  if  it  be  duly  sought,  and  dutifully  complied 
with  and  obeyed  ;  if  you  carefully  reserve  yourself  for 
him,  as  one  whom  he  hath  set  apart  for  himselt>  If  you 
will  be  entirely  his,  and  keep  your  distance,  using  a  holy 
chaste  reservednessas  to  other  things  ;  that  is,  such  things 
as  any  way  tend  to  indispose  your  spirit  towards  him,  or 
render  it  less  suitable  to  his  converse,  he  will  be  no  stran- 
ger to  you.  And  that  it  may  be  more  suitable  and  fit  for 
him,  you  should  habituate  and  accustom  yourself  to  con- 
verse in  the  general  with  spiritual  things.  You  will  be  as 
the  things  are  you  converse  most  with ;  they  will  leave 
their  stamp  and  impress  on  you;  wandering  after  vanity, 
you  will  become  vain;  minding  earthly  things,  you  will 
become  earthly;  accordingly,  being  much  taken  up  with 
spiritual  things,  you  will  bear  their  image,  and  become 
.spiritual. 

Think  how  unworthy  it  is,  since  you  have  faculties  (and 
those  now  refined  and  improved  by  divine  light  and  grace) 
that  are  capable  of  being  employed  about  so  much  higher 
objects  than  those  of  sense,  that  you  should  yield  to  a  con- 
finement, in  so  great  part,  to  so  low  and  mean  things; 
whence  it  is,  that  when  you  should  mind  things  of  a 
higher  nature,  'tis  a  strange  work  with  you,  and  those 
things  seem  odd  and  uncouth  to  you,  and  are  all  with  you 
as  mere  shadow  and  darkness,  that  you  should  be  most 
familiar  with.  Urge  on  your  spirit;  make  it  enter  into 
the  invisible  world.  May  you  not  be  assured,  if  you  wil 
u.se  your  understanding,  that  there  are  things  you  never 
saw,  that  are  unspeakably  more  excellent  and  glorious 
than  any  thing  you  have  seen,  or  than  can  be  seen  by  eyes 
of  flesh  1  Why  should  your  mind  and  thoughts  be  limited 
within  the  narrow  bounds  of  this  sublunary  world ;  so 
small  and  minute,  and  (by  the  apostacy  and  sin  of  man) 
so  abject  and  deformed  a  part  of  God's  creation  1  Do  not 
bind  down  your  spirit  to  the  consideration  and  view  of  the 
affairs  and  concernments  only  of  this  region  of  sin  and 
wretchedness;  where  few  things  fall  under  your  notice 
that  can  be  a  comfortable  (or  so  greatly  edifying  and  in- 
structive a)  prospect  to  a  serious  spirit.  But  consider, 
that  as  certainly  as  you  behold  with  your  eyes  the  wicked- 
ness and  miseries  of  this  forlorn  world,  that  hath  forsaken 
God,  and  is  in  great  part  forsaken  of  him  ;  so  certainly, 
there  is  a  vastly  greater  world  than  this,  of  glorious  and 
innocent  creatures,  that  stand  in  direct  and  dutiful  subor- 
dination to  their  common  Maker  and  Lord ;  loving,  and 
beloved  of  him;  delighting  to  do  his  M'ill,  and  solacing 
themselves  perpetually  in  his  blessed  presence,  and  in  the 
mutual  love,  communion,  and  felicity  of  one  anot'her. 
Unto  which  happy  number  (or  innumerable  company 
rather  as  they  are  called)  b  the  Redeemer  is  daily  adjoin- 
ing such  as  he  recovers  and  translates  out  of  the  ruins 
and  desolation  of  this  miserable,  accursed  part  of  the  uni- 
verse. 

Reckon  yourself  as  some  way  appertaining  to  that  bless- 
ed society.  Mind  the  afi^airs  thereof  as  those  of  your  own 
countrj^  and  that  properly  belong  to  you.  When  we  are 
taught  to  pray,  "  That  the  will  of  God  may  be  done  on 
earth  as  it  is  in  heaven,"  can  it  be  supposed  it  ought  to 
be  a  strange  thing  to  our  thoughts,  how  affairs  go  there  1 
Surely  faith  and  holy  reason,  well  used,  would  furnish  us 
with  regular  and  warrantable  notions  enough  of  the  state 
of  things  above,  that  we  should  not  need  to  carry  it  as 
persons  that  have  no  concern  therein  ;  or,  when  we  are 
required  to  be  as  strangers  on  earth,  that  we  should  make 
ourselves  such  to  heaven  rather.     Let  your  mind  be  much 


2  Psal.  Ixsxiv. 


a  Psal.  iv. 


Paut  II. 


OF  DELIGHTIIS'G  IN  GOD. 


403 


employed  in  considering  the  state  of  things  between  God 
and  his  creatures.  Design  a  large  field  lor  your  thoughts 
to  spread  themselves  in ;  (and  you  will  also  find  it  a  fruit- 
ful one ;)  let  them  run  backward  and  forward  and  expa- 
tiate on  every  side.  Think  how  all  things  sprang  from 
God,  and  among  them  man,  that  excellent  part  of  this 
his  lower  creation ;  what  he  was  towards  God,  and  what  he 
is  now  become.  Think  of  the  admirable  person,  the  glo- 
rious excellencies,  the  mighty  design,  the  wonderful 
achievements  and  performances  of  the  Redeemer;  and  the 
blessed  issue  he  will  bring  things  to  at  length.  Think  of 
and  study  much  the  nature,  parts,  and  accomplishments 
of  the  new  creature  ;  get  your  mind  well  instructed  and 
furnished  with  apprehensions  of  the  whole  entire  frame  of 
that  holy  rectitude  wherein  the  image  of  God  upon  re- 
newed souls  doth  consist ;  the  several  lovely  ornaments  of 
the  hidden  man  of  the  heart,  how  !tis  tramed  and  habited 
when  it  is  as  it  should  be  towards  God  and  towards  men. 
Cast  about,  and  you  will  not  want  matter  of  spiritual  em- 
ployment and  exercise  for  your  minds  and  hearts ;  nor 
nave  occasion,  if  any  expostulate  with  you,  why  you  mind 
this  earth  and  the  things  of  sense  so  much,  to  say,  you 
know  not  what  else  to  think  of;  you  may  sure  find  many 
things  else.  And  if  you  would  use  your  thoughts  to  such 
converse,  and  thus  daily  entertain  yourself  in  this  way, 
you  may  expect  a  spiritual  frame  to  grow  habitual  to  you  ; 
and  then  would  the  rest  of  your  business  do  itself  You 
would  not  need  to  be  pressed  and  persuaded  to  delight  in 
God,  an}'  more  than  to  do  the  acts  of  nature — to  eat,  and 
drink,  and  move,  yea,  and  draw  your  breath. 

2.  Endeavour  your  knowledge  or  the  conception  3'ou 
have  of  God,  may  be  more  distinct  and  clear.  For  ob- 
serve w^hether  when  you  would  apply  yourself  to  delight 
in  him,  this  be  not  the  next  (or  at  least  one)  great  obstruc- 
tion, after  that  of  an  indisposed,  carnal  heart,  that  though 
you  would,  and  you  know  'tis  fit  you  should  do  so,  you  know 
not  how  to  go  about  it ;  for  you  are  at  a  loss,  what  or  how 
to  conceive  of  him.  But  is  it  fit  it  should  be  always  thus ! 
What,  ever  learning  and  never  arrive  to  this  knowledge? 
'Tis  most  true,  "  we  can  never  search  out  the  Almighty 
unto  perfection ;"  and  it  will  ahvays  be  but  a  little  portion 
we  shall  know  of  that  glorious  incomprehensible  Being. 
But  since  there  is  a  knowledge  of  God,  we  are  required 
to  have  our  souls  furnished  with,  and  whereon  eternal  life 
depends,  with  all  gracious  dispositions  of  heart  towards 
him  that  are  the  beginnings  of  that  life ;  certainly  the 
whole  compass  of  our  duty  and  blessedness  is  not  all  laid 
upon  an  impossibility.  And  therefore,  if  we  do  not  so  far 
know  as  to  love  and  delight  in  him  above  all  things  else, 
this  must  be  through  our  own  great  default ;  and  more  to 
be  imputed  to  our  carelessness  and  contentedness  to  be 
ignorant,  than  that  he  is  unknowable,  or  hath  so  reserved 
and  shut  up  himself  from  us  that  we  cannot  know  him. 
There  are  many  things  belonging  to  the  being  of  God 
which  we  are  not  concerned  to  know,  and  which  it  would 
be  a  vain  and  bold  curiosity  to  pry  into;  but  what  is  ne- 
cessary to  direct  our  practice,  and  tend  to  show  how  we 
should  be  and  carry  ourselves  towards  him,  is  not  (.such 
hath  been  his  gracious  vouchsafement)  impossible  or  dif- 
ficult to  be  known.  We  may  apprehend  him  to  be  the 
most  excellent  Being ;  and  may  descend  to  many  parti- 
cular excellencies,  wherein  we  may  easily  apprehend  him 
infinitely  to  surpass  all  other  beings. 

For  we  most  certainly  know,  all  things  were  of  him,  and 
therefore,  that  whatsoever  excellency  we  can  observe  in 
creatures,  must  be  eminently  and  in  highest  perfection  in 
him,  without  the  want  of  any  thing,  but  what  doth  itself 
import  weakness  and  imperfection  ;  and  hath  it  not  been 
his  errand  and  business  into  the  world,  who  lay  in  his 
bosom,  to  declare  him  !■=  And  hath  not  he,  who  at  sundry 
times  and  in  divers  manners  spake  in  times  past  unto  the 
fathers  by  the  prophets,  in  these  last  days  spoken  10  us  by 
his  Son,  whom  he  hath  appointed  heir  of  all  things,  by 
whom  also  he  made  ihe  worlds,  who  is  the  brightness  of 
his  glory,  and  the  express  image  of  his  person  1  He  hath 
been  on  earth  the  visible  representation  of  God  to  men  : 
the  Divine  glory  shone  in  him,  the  glory  of  the  only-be- 
gotten Son  of  the  Father,  full  of  grace  and  truth.d  Was 
not  that  divine  1  Suppose  we  then  we  had  seen  Christ 
c  John  i.  18.  d  Ver.  It. 


in  the  flesh,  and  been  the  constant  observers  of  his  whole 
conversation  on  earth;  (and  though  we  have  not  seen  it, 
we  have  the  sufficient  records  of  his  life  and  actions  in  our 
hands ;)  let  us  I  say  suppose  him  from  day  to  day  before  our 
eyes,  in  all  his  meek,  humble,  lovely  deportments  among 
men  ;  and  withal  in  the  beams  of  majesty  that  appeared 
through  that  veil  wherein  he  was  pleased  to  enwrap  him- 
self. If  Ave  did  observe  him  going  to  and  fro,  and  every 
where  doing  good,  scattering  blessings  wherever  he  went ; 
with  what  compassion  and  tenderness  he  healed  the  sick, 
instructed  the  ignorant,  supplied  and  fed  the  hungry  and 
necessitous;  how  he  bare  with  the  weak,  forgave  the  in- 
jurious, (even  against  his  own  life,)  and  wept  over  secure 
and  obstinate  sinners;  with  what  might)'  power  he  cast 
out  devils,  raised  the  dead,  commanded  winds  and  seas, 
and  they  obeyed  him  ;  with  what  authority,  zeal,  and  con- 
viction he  contested  against  a  hypocritical  generation  of 
hardened,  impenitent,  unbelieving  wretches,  casting  flames 
of  holy  just  displeasure  in  their  faces,  and  threatening 
them  with  the  damnation  of  hell.  And  now  suppose  the 
veil  laid  aside,  and  the  lustre  of  all  these  excellencies 
shining  forth,  without  the  interposition  of  any  obscuring 
cloud  or  shadow  ;  and  such  a  one  is  the  blessed  God. 
For  this  was  the  express  image  of  his  person  ;  and  as  he 
himself  tells  us,  they  that  have  seen  him  have  seen  the 
Father. «     And  do  you  not  now  see  one  to  be  delighted  in  " 

But  yet  further.  Can  you  not  frame  a  notion  of  wis- 
dom, goodness,  justice,  holiness,  truth,  power,  with  other 
known  perfections,  all  concurring  together  in  a  Being 
purely  spiritual,  (not  obvious  to  our  sense,)  and  that  was 
eternally  and  originally  of  himself,  the  Author  and  Origi- 
nal of  all  things,  and  who  is  therefore  over  all  and  in  all, 
infiin  ite  and  unchangeable  in  all  the  perfections  before  men- 
tioned! Surely  such  conceptions  are  not  impossible  to 
you.  And  this  is  he  in  whom  you  are  to  delight.  Lift 
up  then  your  minds  above  your  senses  and  all  sensible 
things ;  use  your  understandings,  whereby  you  are  dis- 
tinguished from  brute  creatures.  Consider,  this  is  he  from 
whom  you  and  all  things  sprang,  and  in  whom  your  life 
is.  Do  you  perceive  life,  wisdom,  power,  love  in  other 
things;  these  must  all  have  some  or  other  fountain. 
Other  things  have  not  these  of  themselves,  for  they  are  not 
of  themselves,  therefore  they  must  derive  and  partake  them 
from  him  ;  and  thence  it  is  evident,  they  must  be  in  him 
in  their  highe.st  excellency.  Of  this,  your  understandings, 
duly  exercised,  will  render  3'ou  as  sure,  as  if  you  saw  that 
infinite  glory,  in  which  all  these  meet,  with  your  ej'es ; 
and  will  assure  you,  'cis  so  much  more  excellent  and  glo- 
rious, for  that  it  cannot  be  seen  with  your  eyes.  You  see 
the  externilacts  and  expressions  of  these  things  from  such 
creatures  as  you  are.  But  life,  wisdom,  power,  love, 
themselves  are  invisible  things,  which  in  themselves  you 
cannot  see  ;  yet  you  are  not  the  less  certain  that  there  are 
such  things.  And  do  you  not  find,  that  the  certain  evi- 
dence you  have,  that  these  things  meet  in  this  or  thai  crea- 
ture, do  render  it  lovely  and  delightful  in  your  eyesi 
especially,  if  you  have,  or  apprehend  you  may  have,  near- 
est interest  in  such  a  creature  !  The  blessed  God  not  only 
hath  these  things  in  himself,  but  is  these  very  things  him- 
self; therefore  must  be  invisible,  as  they  are.  And  be- 
cause he  not  only  hath  them,  but  is  them,  therefore  they 
are  in  him  perfectly  unchangeably  and  eternally,  as  being 
his  veiy  essence.  Think  then  of  a  Being  that  is  pure, 
original,  substantial  life,  wisdom,  power,  love :  and  how 
infinitely  amiable  and  delectable  should  that  ever  blessed 
Being  be  unto  you ! 

Converse  with  thew-ord  of  God.  Read  his  descriptions 
of  himself;  and  do  not  content  yourselves  to  have  the 
words  and  expressions  before  your  eyes,  or  in  your  m<mihs, 
that  represent  to  you  his  nature  and  attributes;  but  make 
your  pauses,  and  consider  the  things  themselves  signified 
by  them  :  that  is,  when  you  read  such  passages  of  his  own 
holy  book,  as  that  which  tells  you  his  name,  that  "  He 
is  the  Lord,  the  Lord  God,  gracious  and  merciful, "f  &c. 
or  that  tell  you  "  He  is  light,  he  is  love,  he  is  God  only 
wise,  he  is  the  Almighty,  God  all-sufficient,  he  is  all  in 
all,"  and  that  the  "  heavens,  and  heaven  of  heavens,  can- 
not contain  him  ;"  or  wherein  )'ou  find  him  admired  as 
"  glorious  in  holiness ;"  or  that  say  "  he  is  what  he  is," 
e  John  xiv.  9.  f  Exnd.  .x.xxiv. 


404 


OP  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD, 


Part  II. 


that  "he  is  the  first  and  the  last,  the  Alpha  and  Omega," 
&c.  labuur  to  fix  the  apprehension  and  the  true  import  of 
all  such  expressit)ns  deep  in  your  mind  ;  that  you  may 
have  an  entire  and  well-1'ormed  representation  of  him  be- 
fore you,  unto  which  you  may  upon  all  occasions  have 
recourse,  and  not  be  at  a  loss  every  time  you  are  to  apply 
yourselves  to  any  converse  with  him,  what  or  how  to  con- 
ceive of  him.  And  because  mere  words,  though  they  may 
furnish  you  with  a  more  full  and  comprehensive  notion  of 
him,  yetit  may  be  not  withsolively  aone,  orthatyou  find  so 
powerfully  striking  your  heart,  compare  with  that  accoimt 
his  word  gives  you  of  him  the  works  which  your  eyes  may 
daily  behold,  and  which  you  are  assured  were  wrought 
and  done  by  him.  To  read  or  hear  of  his  wisdom,  power, 
goodness,  &c.  and  then  to  have  the  visible  etiects  within 
your  constant  view,  that  so  fully  correspond  to  what  his 
word  hath  said  of  him,  and  demonstrate  him  to  be  what 
you  were  told  he  is  ;  how  mighty  a  confirmation  doth  this 
"carry  with  it !  You  may  behold  somewhat  of  him  in 
every  creature.  All  his  works  do  not  only  represent,  but 
even  praise  and  commend  him  to  you. 

Above  all,  since  he  is  only  to  be  seen  in  his  own  light, 
pray  earnestly  and  continually  to  the  God  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  the  Father  of  glory,  that  he  would  give  you 
the  spirit  of  wisdom  and  revelation  in  the  knowledge  of 
him.?  From  such  as  so  desire  to  know  him,  he  will  not 
conceal  himself.  This  is  your  more  direct  following  on  to 
know  the  Lord  ;h  in  which  case  he  hath  said,  you  shall 
know,  and  that  his  going  forth  shall  be  prepared  as  the 
morning.  By  your  craving  looks,  and  the  expecting  pos- 
ture of  your  waiting  eye,  you  draw  forth  and  invite  his 
enlightening  communications,  which  do  but  wait  for  an 
invitation.  For  it  is  most  reasonable  you  should  feel  your 
want,  and  express  your  desire  of  what  is  so  precious,  be- 
fore you  find  it.  Hereby  you  put  yourselves  amidst  the 
glorious  beams  of  his  vital  pleasant  light ;  or  do  open  your 
souls  to  admit  and  let  it  in  upon  you.  Who  when  he 
finds  it  is  with  you  a  desired  thing  and  longed  for,  takes 
more  pleasure  in  imparting,  than  you  can  pains  in  seeking, 
or  pleasure  in  receiving  it.  Nor  yet,  when  you  have  thus 
attained  to  some  competent  measure  of  the  knowledge  of 
God,  are  you  to  satisfy  yourselves  that  now  you  are  not 
altogether  ignorant :  but, 

3.  Emplo}^  your  knowledge  in  frequent  and  solemn 
thinking  on  him  ;  which  is  one  (and  the  next)  end  of  that 
knowledge,  and  a  further  great  means  to  your  delighting  in 
him.  Your  knowledge  of  God  signifies  little  to  this  pur- 
pose, or  any  other,  if,  as  it  gives  you  the  advantage  of 
having  frequent  actual  thoughts  of  him,  it  be  not  used  to 
this  end.  Not  having  this  knowledge  when  you  would  set 
yourselves  seriously  to  think  on  God,  you  are  lost  in  the 
dark,  and  know  not  which  way  to  turn  yourselves  ;  and 
having  it,  you  will  be  as  much  strangers  to  delight  in  him, 
if  you  let  your  knowledge  lie  bound  up  in  dead  and  spi- 
ritless notion,  and  labour  not  to  have  it  turned  into  active 
life  and  fervent  love,  by  the  agitation  of  your  working 
thoughts.  By  your  musing  this  fire  must  be  kindled.  Do 
3'^ou  suppose  it  possible  to  delight  in  God  and  not  think  of 
him?  If  God  be  the  solace  and  joy  of  your  souls,  surely 
it  must  be  God  remembered  and  minded  much,  not  neg- 
lected and  forgotten.  My  soul  (saith  the  Psalmist)  shall  be 
satisfied  as  with  marrow  and  fatness,  and  my  mouth  shall 
praise  thee  with  joyful  lips  ;  when  I  remember  thee  on  my 
bed,  and  meditate  on  thee  in  the  night  watches. i  And  he 
at  the  same  time  says  his  meditation  of  him  shall  be  sweet,i( 
when  he  says,  he  will  be  glad  in  the  Lord. 

'Tis  not  a  brutal  delight  you  are  here  invited  to.  Even 
such  creatures  have  their  pleasures  also;  and  do  need 
thereto,  besides  a  suitable  object,  only  the  help  and  minis- 
try of  their  senses.  Your  delight  in  God  can  find  no  way 
into  your  hearts,  but  by  the  introduction  of  your  exercised 
minds.  There  the  matter  must  be  prepared  and  formed  by 
which  your  delight  is  to  be  nourished  and  maintained. 
Hereto  then  you  must  apply  yourselves  with  design,  and 
with  serious  diligence,  and  take  pains  with  your  reconciling 
thoughts.  Do  not  make  that  fulsome  pretence,  to  excuse 
your  slothful  neglect,  that  you  cannot  command  your  own 
thoughts.  The  thing  itself  is  unquestionably  true,  and  that 
you  are  not  of  yourselves  sufficient  to  think  any  thing  that 
g  Eph.  i.  li  Ho3.  vi.  i  Psal.  Ixiii. 


is  good,  as  of  yourselves ;  and  so  you  may  truly  enough 
say,  that  you  cannot  think  any  thought  at  all  without  God, 
or  so  much  as  draw  a  breath.  Only,  as  besides  your  na- 
tural dependance  on  God  for  the  support  of  your  natura. 
life  and  being,  there  must  be  that  course  taken,  and  those 
things  done,  by  which  in  an  orderly  course  of  providence 
you  may  live ;  so  for  the  maintaining  of  your  spiritual  life 
(wliich  very  much  stands  in  delight  and  joy  in  God)  you 
must  join  a  spiritual  dependance  for  that  special  influence 
and  concurrence  which  is  necessary  hereto,  with  the  doing 
of  such  things  as  by  God's  appointment  and  prescription 
are  to  senve  this  end.  They  who  complain  therefore  they 
cannot  attain  to  it,  to  delight  in  God,  or  their  delight  in 
him  is  faint  and  languishing  ;  while  in  the  meantime  they 
use  no  endeavour  to  bend  and  direct  their  thoughts  to- 
wards him,  do  make  as  idle  a  complaint,  as  he  that  shall 
say,  he  is  in  a  miserable  starving  condition,  and  nothing 
nourishes  him  who  wanting  nothing  suitable  for  him,  is 
so  wretchedly  slothful,  that  he  will  be  at  no  pains  to  pre- 
pare, or  so  much  as  eat  and  chew  his  own  necessary  food. 
You  may  not  imagine,  you  have  all  that  is  needful  for  the 
well-governing  of  your  spirits  in  your  own  hands  and 
power.  Nor  ought  you  therefore  to  think,  that  what  is 
simply  needful  is  not  to  be  had.  God  is  not  behind-hand 
Avith  you  ;  he  is  no  such  hard  task-master,  as  to  require 
brick  and  allow  no  straw :  but  may  most  righteously  say, 
ye  are  idle,  and  do  therefore  only  complain  like  the  slug- 
gard in  his  bed,  whose  hands  cannot  endure  to  labour. 
You  dare  not  deliberately  go  to  God,  and  tell  him,  you  do 
all  you  can  to  fix  the  thoughts  of  your  hearts  on  him,  and 
yet  it  will  not  be  ;  or  that  he  gives  you  no  help.  Though 
he  can  be  no  way  indebted  to  you,  but  by  his  own  free 
promise  ;  he  giveth  meat  to  them  that  fear  him,  being 
ever  mindful  of  his  covenant,  (yea  he  doth  it  for  ravens  and 
sparrows,)  he  will  not  then  famish  the  souls  that  cry  to 
him,  and  wait  on  him  ;  their  heart  shall  live  that  seek  God. 
It's  becoming  and  suitable  to  the  state  of  things  between 
him  and  you,  that  he  should  put  you  upon  seeking  that 
you  may  find.  Your  reasonable  nature  and  faculties  (espe- 
cially being  already  rectified  in  some  measure,  and  en- 
livened by  his  grace  and  spirit)  do  require  to  be  held  to 
such  terms.  It  is  natural  to  you  to  think ;  and  there  is 
nothing  more  suitable  to  the  new  creature,  than  that  you 
apply  and  set  yourselves  to  think  on  him,  and  that  your 
thoughts  be  set  (and  held)  on  work  to  inquire  and  seek 
him  out.  Know  therefore,  3'ou  do  not  your  parts,  unless 
you  make  this  more  your  business.  Therefore  to  be  here 
more  particular; 

1.  Solemnly  set  yourselves  at  chosen  times  to  think  on 
God.  Meditation  is  of  itself  a  distinct  duty,  and  must  have 
a  considerable  time  allowed  it  among  the  other  exercises 
of  the  Christian  life.  It  challenges  a  just  share  and  part 
in  the  time  of  our  lives ;  and  he  in  whom  we  are  to  place 
our  delight,  is,  you  know,  the  prime  and  chief  object  of  this 
holy  work  Is  it  reasonable  that  he  who  is  our  life  and 
our  all,  should  never  be  thought  on,  but  now  and  then,  as 
it  were  by  chance,  and  on  the  by  1  "  My  meditation  on 
him  shall  be  sweet."  Doth  not  that  imply  that  it  was  with 
the  Psalmist  a  designed  thing  to  meditate  on  God  1  that  it 
was  a  stated  course  1  whereas  it  was  become  customary  and 
usual  to  him,  his  ordinary  practice,  to  appoint  times  for 
meditating  on  God,  his  well-known  exercise,  (which  is 
supposed,)  he  promises  himself  satisfaction  and  solace  of 
soul  herein.  Let  j'our  eyes  herein  therefore  prevent  the 
night-watches.  Reckon  you  have  neglected  one  of  the 
most  important  businesses  of  the  day,  if  you  have  omitted 
this,  and  that  to  such  omissions  you  owe  your  little  de- 
light in  God.  Wherein  therefore  are  you  to  repair  your- 
selves but  by  redressing  this  great  negjett "? 

2.  Thinkoftenof  him  amidst  your  other  aflTairs.  Every 
one  as  he  is  called  (be  his  state  or  way  of  living  what  it 
will,  be  he  bond  or  free)  is  required  therein  to  abide  with 
God. I  And  how  is  that  but  by  often  thinking  on  him,  as 
being  a  great  part  (and  fundamental  to  all  the  rest)  of 
what  can  he  meant  by  this  abode?  Hoav  grateful  a  mix- 
ture would  the  thoughts  of  God  make  with  that  great 
variety  of  other  things  which  we  are  necessarily  to  be  con- 
cerned in,  while  we  arc  in  this  world  !  If  they  be  serious 
and  right  thoughts,  they  will  be  accompanied  with  some 

k  Psal.  civ.  34.  1 1  Cor.  vii. 


PiBT  II. 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


405 


savour  and  relish  of  sweetness,  and,  at  leeist,  tend  to  keep 
the  heart  in  a  disposition  for  more  delightful,  solemn  in- 
tercourses with  God.  It  is  a  sad  truth,  (than  which  also 
nothing  is  more  apparent,)  that  whatsoever  there  is,  either 
of  sinfulness  or  uncomfortableness  in  the  lives  of  those 
who  have  engaged  and  devoted  themselves  to  God,  doth 
in  greatest  part  proceed  from  their  neglect  to  mind  God. 
A  thing,  if  due  heed  were  taken  about  it,  so  easy,  so  little 
laborious,  and  the  labour  whereof  (so  much  as  it  is)  were 
sure  to  be  recompensed  with  so  unspeakable  pleasure: 
that  they  are  so  often  lost  in  darkness,  drowned  in  car- 
nality, buried  in  earthliness,  and  overwhelmed  with  mise- 
ries and  desolations  of  spirit,  and  all  this  for  want  of  a 
right  employing  of  their  thoughts,  is  from  hence  only; 
they  set  their  thoughts  upon  things  that  tend  either  to 
corrupt  or  deprave  their  spirits,  or  to  disquiet  and  afflict 
them. 

At  this  in-let,  and  by  the  labour  of  their  own  thoughts, 
sins  and  calamities  are  brought  in  upon  them  as  a  flood  ; 
which  very  thoughts  if  they  were  placed  and  exercised 
aright,  would  let  in  God  upon  them,  fill  them  with  his 
fulness,  replenish  their  souls  with  his  light,  grace,  and 
consolations.  And  how  much  more  easy  an  exercise  were 
it  to  keep  their  thoughts  employed  upon  one  object  that  is 
ever  full,  delectable,  and  present ;  than  to  divide  them 
among  many,  that  either  lie  remote,  and  out  of  their  power, 
to  be  pursued  with  anxiety,  toil,  and  very  often  with  dis- 
appointment ;  or  being  nearer  hand,  are  to  be  enjoyed  (if 
they  be  things  that  have  an  appearance  of  good  in  them) 
with  much  danger  and  damage  to  their  spirits,  and  with 
little  satisfaction ;  or  (if  they  appear  evil)  to  be  endured 
with  pain  and  sorrow  !  So  that  the  labour  of  their  thoughts, 
among  those  many  things,  brings  them  in  torture,  when 
their  rest  upon  God  alone  would  be  all  pleasure,  delight, 
and  joy :  here  their  souls  might  dwell  at  ease,™  or  (as  those 
words  import)  rest  in  goodiress,  (even  with  that  quiet  repose 
which  men  are  wont  to  take  by  night ;  for  so  the  word  we 
read  dwell  peculiarly  signifies,)  after  the  weariness  which 
we  may  suppose  to  have  been  contracted  by  the  labour  of 
the  foregoing  day.  And  if  no  such  sweet  and  pleasant 
fruit  were  to  be  hoped  for  from  the  careful  government  and 
ordering  of  our  thoughts,  is  the  obligation  of  God's  law  in 
this  matter  nothing  with  us  1  whom  we  are  bound  to  fear 
and  love,  to  trust  and  obey  above  all  things,  of  him  are 
we  not  bound  so  much  as  to  think  1  And  what  is  loving 
God  with  all  our  mind,  so  expressly  mentioned  in  that 
great  summary  of  our  duty  towards  him  1  Or  what  can  it 
mean,  after  the  required  love  of  all  the  heart,  and  all  the 
soul,  to  add  so  particularly,  and  with  all  thy  mind,  when 
as  the  mind  we  know  is  not  the  seat  of  love  !  Surely  it 
cannot,  at  least,  but  imply,  that  our  thoughts  must  be  much 
exercised  upon  God  even  by  the  direction  of  our  love,  and 
that  our  love  must  be  maintained  by  thoughts  of  him  ; 
that  our  minds  and  hearts  must  continually  correspond 
and  concur  to  the  loving  of  God  ;  and  so  our  whole  soul 
to  be  exercised  and  set  on  work  therein. 

What  doth  it  mean  that  our  youth  is  challenged  to  the 
remembrance  of  him  I"  What,  is  our  riper  age  more  ex- 
empt 1  Do  we  as  we  longer  live  by  him  owe  him  less  1 
Doth  it  signify  nothing  with  us  that  (as  was  hinted  former- 
ly) the  wicked  bear  this  brand  in  the  Scriptures,  they  that 
forget  God ;»  that  it  is  a  diflerencing  character  of  his  own 
people,  that  they  thought  on  his  name  1  Why  do  we  sup- 
pose our  thoughts  exempt  from  his  government,  or  the  ob- 
ligation of  his  laws  1  Why  should  it  be  reckoned  less  in- 
solent to  say,  "Our  thoughts,  than  our  tongues,  are  our 
own,  who  is  Lord  over  us  7"  May  we  do  what  we  will 
with  our  thoughts  7  Who  gave  us  our  thinking  power,  or 
made  us  capable  of  forming  a  thought  1  And  now,  will  we 
assume  the  confidence  to  tell  God  we  think  on  him  all  that 
we  can  1  How  many  idle  thoughts  in  the  day  might  we 
have  exchanged  for  thoughts  of  God  !  and  every  thought 
have  been  to  us  a  spring  of  pleasure,  and  holy  delight  in 
him  !  Know  then  that  if  ever  you  will  do  any  thing  in 
this  great  matter  of  delighting  in  God,  you  must  arrest 
your  thoughts  for  him,  and  engage  them  in  more  constant 
converse  with  him:  and  withal  mix  prayers  with  those 
thoughts  ;  or  let  them  often  be  praying,  craving  thoughts, 
such  as  may  carry  with  them  annexed  desires ;  or  wherein 


m  Psal.  XXV.  13. 


30 


your  heart  may  breathe  out  requests,  such  as  that,  (for  in- 
stance,) Rejoice  the  soul  of  thy  servant;  for  unto  thee,  O 
Lord,  do  I  lift  up  my  sou1,p  &c.  See  they  be  spiruful 
thoughts,  that  carry  life  in  them,  and  aim  to  draw  more. 
But  now  our  thoughts  may  be  conversant  about  him  under 
very  various  considerations,  and  all  of  them  verj'  delight- 
ful. And  this  variety  may  much  increase  our  delight, 
while  our  minds  converse  with  him,  now  under  one  notion, 
then  under  another.  They  are  apt  to  tire  and  grow  weary, 
being  long  employed  the  same  way  upon  the  same  thing. 
And  it  were  an  injury  to  the  blessed  God  himself,  when 
he  presents  himself  under  various  aspects  and  appearances, 
so  to  take  notice  of  any  one,  as  to  overlook  and  neglect 
the  rest.     Therefore, 

4.  Look  often  to  him  according  as  absolutely  considered 
he  is  in  himself  the  most  excellent  Being :  and  as  in  re- 
ference to  his  creatures,  he  is  the  supreme  Author  and  Lord 
of  all.  There  is  an  unspeakable  pleasure  to  be  taken  in 
him  so  beheld.  Too  many,  while  their  distrust,  or  their 
carnality  and  strangeness  to  God  holds  them  in  su.spense 
concerning  their  own  special  relation  to  him,  are  apt  to 
fancy  themselves  excused  of  delighting  in  him.  It  belongs 
not  to  them  they  think,  but  to  some  familiar  friends  and 
great  favourites  of  his  to  whom  he  expresses  special  kind- 
ness, and  on  whom  he  places  the  marks  of  his  more  pecu- 
liar good-will.  But  do  you  think  so  to  shift  and  waive  the 
obligation  of  a  universal  law  upon  mankind,  and  all  rea- 
sonable nature  ?  You  are  to  remember  (as  hath  been  said) 
your  delight  in  God  is  not  to  be  considered  only  as  your 
privilege,  but  as  an  act  of  homage  to  him  that  made  you, 
and  put  an  intelligent  apprehensive  spirit  into  you,  by 
which  you  are  capable  of  knowing  who  made  you,  and  of 
beholding  your  Maker's  excellency  with  admiration  and 
delight.  "And  if  now  you  are  become  guilty  and  vile; 
will  you  run  into  darkness  and  hide  yourself  from  him, 
or  close  your  eyes,  and  then  say,  the  sun  doth  not  shine, 
and  deny  the  blessed,  glorious  God  to  be  what  most  truly 
and  unchangeably  he  is  1  Whatever  you  are  or  have  de- 
sired he  should  be  towards  you,  yet  do  him  right.  Be- 
hold and  confess  his  glorious  excellency,  evcrA'  way  most 
worthy  to  be  delighted  in.  Nor  have  you  rendered  your- 
selves so  vile,  nor  had  so  much  cause  of  apprehending  his 
displeasure  towards  you,  by  any  thing  so  much  as  this, 
your  not  having  taken  delight  in  him  all  this  while  ;  and 
your  neglect  to  take  the  ways  (spoken  of  before)  tending 
to  bring  you  thereto.  If  you  think  you  have  no  special 
relation  to  him,  do  you  think  you  ever  shall  if  3-ou  con- 
tinue, in  the  temper  of  j^our  spirits,  strangers  to  him,  and 
look  upon  him  as  one  in  whom  you  are  to  take  no  delight  1 
Surely  'tis  your  dutiful  affection  towards  him  and  com- 
placency in'  him,  that  must  give  }'ou  ground  to  hope  you 
are  his,"and  he  is  yours;  and  therefore  the  beginnings  and 
first  degrees  of  that  complacency  and  delight  must  be  in 
you  before;  being  begotten  by  the  view  of  that  excellency 
which  he  hath  in  himself  antecedently  to  his  being  related 
to  you.  Yea,  and  if  your  relation  to  him  were  already  as 
sure  and  evident  to  you  as  can  be  supposed  ;  yet  are  you 
to  take  heed  of  confining  your  delight  in  him  to  that  con- 
sideration of  him  only  ;  or  of  making  it  the  chief  rea.<:on  of 
that  your  delight.  For  so  your  delight  in  him  will  be  more 
for  your  own  sakes,  or  upon  your  own  account,  than  his. 
Learn  to  look  upon  things  as  they  are,  and  not  according 
to  their  aspect  upon  your  affairs.  Is  it  not  a  greater  thing 
that  he  is  God,  than  "that  he  is  yours  1 

It  is  a  purer,  a  more  noble  and  generous,  aflleclion  to 
him  you  are  to  aim  at,  than  what  is  measured  only  by  your 
private  interest.  Is  that  boundless  fulness  of  life,  glory, 
and  all  perfection  (treasured  up  in  the  eternal  and  incom- 
prehensible Being)  to  be  all  estimated  by  the  capacity  and 
concerns  of  a  silly  worm  1  That  consideration,  therefore, 
being  sometimes  laid  aside,  sit  down  and  contemplate  God 
as  he  is  in  himself,  not  disowning  (as  it  is  not  fit  you 
should)  but  onlv  waiving  the  present  consideration  of  any 
more  comfortable  relation,  wherein  you  may  (though  most 
justly)  suppose  him  to  stand  to  yon ;  and  see  if  you  can- 
not take  pleasure  in  this,  that  he  is  great  and  glorious,  and 
to  have  a  B  ing  so  everv  wav  perfect  before  your  eyes. 
Try  if  it  will  not  be  pleasant"  to  you  to  fall  down  before 
him,  and  give  him  glory ;  to  join  ybnr  praises  and  triumph- 
o  Psal.  ix.  16.  P  Ps.  IxxiTi.  4. 


406 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


Part  II, 


ant  songs  to  those  of  saints  and  angels ;  and  how  much 
yet  also  it  will  add  to  3'our  satisfaction  to  behold  and  ac- 
knowledge him  exalted  above  all  blessing  and  praise.  How 
great  delight  hath  been  taken  in  him  upon  such  accounts ! 
In  what  transports  have  holy  souls  been  upon  the  view  and 
contemplation  of  his  sovereign  power  and  dominion ;  his 
wise  and  righteous  government ;  his  large  and  flowing 
goodness,  that  extends  in  common  to  all  the  works  of  his 
hands!  Labour  to  imitate  the  ingenious  and  loyal  affec- 
tion of  this  kind,  whereof  you  find  many  expressions  in 
the  sacred  volume.  For  what  hath  been  matter  of  delight 
to  saints  of  old,  ought  surely  still  as  much  to  be  account- 
ed so.     To  give  instances : 

You  sometimes  find  them  in  a  most  complacential  ado- 
ration of  his  wonderful  wisdom  and  counsels.  O  the 
depths  of  the  riches  both  of  the  wisdom  and  knowledge  of 
God  !  How  unsearchable  are  his  judgments,  and  his  ways 
past  finding  out  \^  And  again,  To  God  only  wise  be  glory, 
through  Jesus  Christ,  for  ever.  Amen.''  To  the  King 
eternal,  immortal,  invisible,  the  only  wise  God,  be  honour 
and  glory  for  ever,^  &c.  To  the  only  wise  God  our  Sa- 
viour, be  glory  and  majesty,  dominion  and  power,  now 
and  ever,'  &c.  Elsewhere  we  have  them  in  transports 
admiring  his  holiness  Who  is  like  unto  thee,  O  Lord, 
among  the  gods !  Who  is  like  thee  glorious  in  holiness !" 
There  is  none  holy  as  the  Lord ;  for  there  is  none  besides 
thee,  neither  is  there  any  rock  like  our  God !"  And  this  is 
recommended  and  enjoined  to  his  holy  ones  a^  the  special 
matter  of  their  joy  and  praise :  Rejoice  in  the  Lord,  ye 
righteous,  and  give  thanks  at  the  remembrance  of  his  ho- 
liness.y  At  other  times  we  have  their  magnificent  cele- 
oratinns  of  his  glorious  power,  and  that  by  way  of  triumph 
over  the  paganish  gods :  Our  God  is  in  the  heavens,  he 
hath  done  whatsoever  he  pleased.^  Their  idols  are  silver 
and  gold,  &c.  Be  thou  exalted,  O  Gcd,  in  thine  own 
strength.^  We  will  sing  and  praise  thy  power.  Forsake 
me  not  until  I  have  showed  thy  strength  unto  this  genera- 
tion, and  thy  power  to  every  one  that  is  to  come,b  &c. 
This  is  given  out  as  the  soiig  of  Moses  and  the  Lamb; 
"  Who  shall  not  fear  thee,  O  Lord,  and  glorify  thy  name  V 
Great  and  marvellous  are  thy  works,  Lord  God  Almighty, 
&c.  And  how  do  they  magnify  his  mercy  and  goodness, 
both  towards  his  own  people  and  his  creatures  in  general, 
e  O  how  great  is  thy  goodness  which  thou  hast  laid  up 
for  them  that  fear  thee,  that  thou  hast  wrought  for  them 
that  trust  in  thee  before  the  children  of  men  !  Rejoice  in 
the  Lord,  O  ye  righteous,  for  praise  is  comely  for  the 
upright ;  praise  the  Lord  with  harp  ;  sing  unto  "him  with 
the  psaltery, J — The  earth  is  full  of  the  goodness  of  the  Lord. 
I  will  extol  thee,  my  God,  O  King,  I  will  bless  thy  name 
for  ever  and  ever.«^  Men  shall  speak  of  the  might  of  thy 
terrible  acts,  they  shall  abundantly  utter  the  memory  of 
thy  great  goodness,  and  shall  sing  of  thy  righteousness. 
The  Lord  is  gracious  and  fall  of  compassion,  slow  to  anger, 
and  of  great  mercy.  The  Lord  is  good  to  all,  and'his 
lender  mercies  are  over  all  his  works.  To  insert  all  that 
might  be  mentioned  to  this  purpose,  were  to  transcribe  a 
great  part  of  the  Bible.  And  in  what  raptures  do  we 
often  find  them,  in  the  contemplation  of  his  faithfulness 
and  truth,  his  justice  and  righteousness,  his  eternity,  the 
boundlessness  of  his  presence,  the  greatness  of  his  works, 
the  extensiveness  of  his  dominion,  the  perpetuity  of  his 
kingdom,  the  exactness  of  his  government :  Who  is  a 
strong  God  like  unto  thee,  and  to  thy  faithfulness,  round 
aboiU  thee  !f  Thy  mercy,  O  Lord,  is  in  the  heavens,  and 
thy  faithfulness  reaches  unto  the  clouds.?  Before  the 
mountains  were  brought  forth,  or  ever  thou  hadst  formed 
the  earth  or  the  world,  from  everlasting  to  everlasting 
thou  art  God.h  But  will  Gtjd  indeed  dwell  on  the  earth  1 
Behold,  the  heaven  and  heaven  of  heavens  cannot  contain 
thee.i  The  works  of  the  Lord  are  great,  sought  out  of 
them  that  have  pleasure  therein.  His  work  is  honourable 
and  glorious.k  &c.  All  thy  works  shall  praise  thee,  O 
Lord,  and  thy  saints  shall  bless  thee  ;  they  shall  speak  of 
the  glory  of  thy  kingdom,  and  talk  of  thy  power,  to  make 
knov/n  to  the  sons  of  men  his  mighty  acts,  and  the  glorious 

q  Rom  xi.  33.  r  Chap.  xvi.  27.  s  1  Tim  i.  17.  t  Jude  2S. 

II  E.TOd.  XV.  n.  X  I  Sam.  ii.  2.  y  Psal  xcvii.  is. 

z  Psal.  cxv.  a  Psal.  xxi.  13.  b  Psal.  Ixxi   18 

c  Psal.  xxxi.  19.  d  Psal  xxxiii   1,  &c.         e  Psal   cxlv   1,  &c 


majesty  of  his  kingdom.i  Thy  kingdom  is  an  everlasting 
kingdom,  and  thy  dominion  endureth  throughout  all  gene- 
rations. 

And  his  glory  in  the  general,  (which  results  from  his 
several  excellencies  in  conjunction,)  how  loftily  is  it  often 
celebrated  with  the  expression  of  the  most  loyal  desires, 
that  it  may  be  every  where  renowned,  and  of  greatest  com- 
placency, in  as  far  it  is  apprehended  so  to  be.  The  glory 
of  the  Lord  shall  endure  for  ever.  They  shall  sing  in  the 
ways  of  the  Lord,  for  great  is  the  glory  of  the  Lord.  Be 
thou  exalted  above  the  heavens,  let  thy  glory  be  above  all 
the  earth.™  Let  them  praise  the  name  of  the  Lord,  for  his 
name  alone  is  excellent,  his  glory  is  above  the  earth  and 
the  heavens."  When  you  read  such  passages  as  these, 
(whether  they  be  elogies  or  commendations  of  him,  or 
doxologies  and  direct  attributions  of  glory  to  Iiim,)  you  are 
to  bethink  yourselves,  with  what  temper  of  heart  these 
things  were  uttered !  with  how  raised  and  exalted  a  spirit  • 
what  high  delight  and  pleasure  was  conceived  in  glorifying 
God,  or  in  beholding  him  glorious  !  How  large  and  un- 
bounded a  heart,  and  how  full  of  his  praise,  doth  still  every 
where  discover  itself  in  such  strains ;  when  all  nations, 
when  all  creatures,  when  every  thing  that  hath  breath, 
when  heaven  and  earth  are  invited  together,  to  join  in  the 
concert,  and  bear  a  part  in  his  praises  !  And  now  eye  him 
under  the  same  notions  under  which  you  have  seen  him 
so  magnified,  that  in  the  same  way  you  may  have  your 
own  heart  wrought  up  to  the  same  pitch  and  temper  to- 
wards him.  Should  it  not  provoke  an  emulation,  and 
make  you  covet  to  be  amidst  the  throng  of  loyal  and  de- 
voted souls,  when  you  see  them  ascending  as  if  they  were 
all  incense !  when  you  behold  them  dissolving  and  melting 
away  in  delight  and  love,  and  ready  to  expire,  even  faint- 
ing that  they  can  do  no  more  ;  designing  their  very  last 
breath  shall  go  forth  in  the  close  of  a  song  !  I  will  sing 
unto  the  Lord  as  long  as  I  live,  I  will  sing  praise  to  my 
God  while  I  have  my  being !°  How  becoming  is  it  to 
resolve,  "This  shall  be  my  aim  and  ambition,  to  fly  the 
same,  and  if  it  were  possible,  a  greater,  height."  Read 
over  such  psalms  as  are  more  especially  designed  for  the 
magnifying  of  God  ;P  and  when  you  see  what  were  the 
things  that  were  most  taking  to  so  spiritual  and  pious 
hearts  ;  thence  receive  instruction,  and  aim  to  have  your 
hearts  alike  affected  and  transported  with  the  same  things. 
Frame  the  supposition,  that  you  are  meant,  that  the  in- 
vitation is  directed  to  you,  "  O  come  let  us  sing  unto  the 
Lord,  let  us  come  before  his  presence  with  thanksgiving, 
and  make  a  joyful  noise  to  him  with  psalms;  for  the  Lord 
is  a  great  God,  and  a  great  King  above  all  gods,"  &c.  And 
think  with  yourselves,  Is  he  not  as  great  as  he  was  1  Is  he 
not  as  much  our  Maker  as  he  was  theirs  1  Is  it  not  now 
as  true,  that  "  The  Lord  reigneth,  and  is  high  above  all 
the  earth,  and  exalted  far  above  all  gods."  Now  since 
these  were  the  considerations  upon  which  so  great  com- 
placency was  taken  in  him,  set  the  same  before  your  own 
eyes.  And  since  these  were  proposed  as  the  matter  of  so 
common  a  joy,  and  the  creation  seems  designed  for  a 
musical  instrument  of  as  many  strings  as  there  are  crea- 
tures in  heaven  and  earth  ;  awake,  and  make  haste  to  get 
your  heart  fixed ;  lest  "  the  heavens  rejoice,  and  the 
earth  be  glad,  the  world  and  all  that  dwell  therein  ;  lest 
the  sea  roar,  and  the  fulness  thereof,  the  floods  clap  their 
hands,  the  fields  and  the  hills  be  joyful  together,  and  all 
the  trees  of  the  wood  rejoice  before  the  Lord,"  while  you 
only  are  silent  and  unconcerned. 

And  seriously  consider  the  kind  and  nature  of  that  joy 
and  delight  in  God  wherewith  the  hearts  of  holy  men  did 
so  exceedingly  abound  ;  which  is  to  be  collected  from  the 
expressed  ground  and  reasons  of  it,  for  the  most  part, 
wheresoever  you  have  any  discovery  of  that  joy  itself. 
This  general  and  principal  character  may  be  given  of  it, 
that  it  was  a  sincerely  devout  and  a  loyal  joy ;  not  a  mean, 
narrow,  selfish  pleasure,  a  hugging  of  themselves  in  this 
apprehension  merely.  It  is  well  with  me,  or,  I  am  safe  and 
happy  whatsoever  becomes  of  the  world.  This  was  still 
the  burden  of  their  song;  The  Lord  is  great,  and  glorious, 

f  Psa!  Ixix.  e  Psal.  xxxvi.         h  Psal.  xc.  2.  i  1  Kings  viii. 

k  Psal.  cxi.  1  Psal.  cxlv.  m  Psal.  civ.  31.  cxxxviii.  5.  Ivii.  7,  II 

n  Peal,  oxiviii   13.  o  Psal.  civ.  33. 

p  Psal  %-ui.  xlviii.  xcv.  xcn.  xcvii.  xcviii.  xcix.  &c. 


Part  II. 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


407 


and  excellent ;  is  exalted  and  most  high  over  all.  And  it 
is  to  be  observed,  that  as  this  was  the  common  and  more 
usual  strain  and  temper  of  holy  souls,  in  the  ages  whereof 
the  Scriptures  give  us  any  account ;  so  were  doubts,  and 
fears,  and  troubled  thoughts  concerning  their  own  interest 
in  God,  a  great  deal  less  usual  and  common  in  those  days. 
So  that  in  proportion  to  the  other  pious  and  holy  exercises 
of  such  as  were  true  fearers  of  God  and  devoted  to  him, 
there  is  little  account  given  us  of  any  thing  of  that  kind  in 
the  sacred  writings,  and  especially  in  the  New  Testament 
of  our  Lord.  An  argument  that  such  as  were  sincerely 
religious  were  most  taken  up  about  the  interest  of  God  and 
Christ  in  the  world,  rejoicing  either  in  the  observation  of 
its  growth  and  increase,  or  in  the  hope  and  confidence 
that  it  shall  grow  :  and  that  they  were  much  less  concern- 
ed about  their  own  interest ;  yea,  and  that  this  course  did 
thrive  best  with  them.  While  they  were  most  mtent  upon 
the  affairs  of  their  common  Lord,  their  own  were  well 
enough  provided  for. 

We  cannot  hereupon  but  note  therefore  by  the  way,  how 
altered  a  thing  religion  is  now  become.  Almost  the  whole 
business  of  it,  even  among  them  that  more  seriously  mind 
any  thing  belonging  to  it,  is  a  fear  of  going  to  hell ;  and 
hence  perpetual,  endless  scruples,  doubts,  and  inquiries 
about  marks  and  signs,  and  how  to  know  what  is  the  least 
degree  of  that  grace  which  is  necessary  to  their  being 
saved.  As  if  the  intention  were  to  beat  down  the  price  to 
the  very  lowest,  and  dodge  always,  and  cheapen  heaven 
to  the  utmost,  it  may  be  feared  (as  to  many)  with  a  design 
not  to  aim  at  any  thing  higher  than  what  is  merely  neces- 
sary to  that  purpose  only,  and  never  to  mind  being  excel- 
lent, but  only  being  saved.  And  yet  also  it  were  well,  in 
a  comparative  sense,  if  that  itself  were  minded  in  good 
earnest  by  many  that  profess  beyond  the  common  rate  ; 
and  that  whereas  their  own  interest  is  the  thing  they  most 
mind,  it  were  not  their  meanest  and  least  considerable 
interest,  even  that  of  their  sense  and  flesh,  and  secular  ad- 
vantage ;  and  that  under  the  pretence  too  (which  makes 
the  matter  so  much  the  worse)  of  much  love  and  zeal 
God-ward,  and  devotedness  to  his  interest ;  which  they 
supposed  involved  and  wrapt  up  wholly  with  theirs. 
Whence  also  all  their  delight  and  joy  is  measured  only  by 
the  aspect  of  the  world,  and  of  public  affairs  upon  them 
and  their  private  ones.  And  they  are  either  overwhelmed 
with  sorrow,  or  transported  with  joy,  according  as  the  state 
of  things  doth  either  frown  upon  or  favour  their  concern- 
ments. In  the  days  when  the  interest  of  Christ  lay  more 
entirely  and  undividedly  among  one  sort  of  men  ;  and 
more  apparently,  their  contests  being  less  among  them- 
selves, and  chiefly  with  the  infidel  world  ;  and  they  had, 
for  the  most  part,  no  enemies  but  those  in  common  of  the 
Christian  name  and  cause :  so  that  any  common  state  of 
suffering  to  them,  was  the  visible  prejudice  of  that  cause 
and  interest :  why,  what,  did  they  delight  and  please  them- 
selves in  nothing  but  a  warm  sun  and  halcyon  seasons'? 
Surely  they  had  matter  little  enough  for  that  sort  of  joy. 
And  what,  did  they  therefore  dejectedly  languish  and  de- 
spond, and  give  themselves  up  to  sorrow  and  despair  1 
Nor  that  neither ;  unless  they  had  all  had  but  one  neck, 
and  that  also  perfectly  in  the  enemies'  power,  it  had  been  an 
impossible  thing  to  stifle  and  extinguish  their  delight  and 
joy.  So  fully  did  Christ  make  it  good  to  them,  that  their 
sorrow  should  be  turned  into  joy,  and  their  joy  should  no 
man  take  from  them.  For  even  that  increased  it  which 
aimed  at  its  suppression  ;  and  the  waters  thrown  upon 
their  flame,  became  rivers  of  oil.  They  had  got  a  secret 
way  of  "  rejoicing  in  tribulation,  of  counting  it  all  joy 
when  they  fell  into  divers  temptations,  of  taking  pleasure 
in  reproaches  for  the  sake  of  Christ;"  of  turning  difficulties 
and  hazards  into  matter  of  triumph,  of  taking  joyfully  the 
spoiling  of  their  goods,  and  glorying  to  be  counted  worthy 
to  suffer  any  thing  for  so  excellent  a  name.  Insomuch, 
that  though  their  head  and  Lord  was  in  a  most  ignomini- 
ous way  taken  from  them,  and  they  left  as  a  despised  party 
of  men  in  the  midst  of  an  outrageous  world,  under  the 
(seemingly  hopeless)  profession  of  addictedness  to  the 
interest  of  a  man  that  died  upon  a  cross  among  thieves 
but  the  other  day:  and  though  many  of  them  never  saw 
his  face,  but  had  their  knowledge  of  him  by  report  and 

q  1  Pet.  i.  8. 


hearsay,  yet  believing  they  rejoiced,  with  joy  unspeakable 
and  full  of  glory.')  The  matter  and  ground  of  their  joy 
was  not  so  uncertain  and  changeable  a  thing,  nor  so  light 
and  unsub.stantial,  as  the  world's  kindness  and  favour,  and 
the  smooth  face  of  a  terrene  slcy.  These  were  true  lovers 
of  Christ;  and  such  as  counted  him  worthy  for  whom  ihey 
should  do  all  that  lay  in  their  power,  and  suffer  all  which 
it  was  m  the  power  of  any  others  to  do  against  them  upon 
his  account. 

They  that  rejoice  and  place  their  delight  in  the  blessed 
God  himself  through  Jesus  Christ,  have  for  the  object  of 
their  joy  the  everlasting  I  AM,  him  who  is  the  same  yes- 
terday, and  to-day,  and  for  ever.  And  whose  excellent 
glory  may  be  clouded  indeed  and  eclipsed  to  the  world 
and  the  eye  of  sense ;  but  still  shines  in  itself,  and  to  the 
eye  of  faith,  with  the  same  bright  and  undiminished  lustre. 
That  delight  will  then  be  continued  and  permanent,  and 
ever  springing  up  in  fresh  liveliness  and  vigour,  which  is 
taken  in  this  blessed  object,  considered  as  it  is  in  itself; 
and  that  hath  place  in  a  soul  that  acts  in  a  steady  direct 
course  towards  that  object,  "without  sinister  respects,  or 
any  selfish  ones,  of  even  the  highest  kind,  otherwise  than  in 
that  subordination  which  will  be  suitable  to  the  va^t  dis- 
proportion and  inequality  between  God's  interest  and  ours ; 
that  is,  (looking  upon  our  own  external  concernments  as 
unworthy  to  be  named  in  the  same  day,)  that  though  we 
reckon  what  there  is  delectable  in  God  will  make  for  our 
eternal  advantage;  yet  to  consider  that  advantage  of  ours 
so  much  less,  and  to  be  so  much  more  pleased  and  satL«tied, 
that  he  is  in  himself  blessed  and  glorious,  as  it  is  in  itself 
a  thing  more  considerable  that  he  be  so,  than  it  is  what 
becomes  of  us,  or  of  any  creature,  or  of  this  whole  crea- 
tion. We  are  not  indeed  concerned,  nor  may  think  jt 
warrantable,  to  put  ourselves  upon  any  such  severe  and 
unnatural  trials  of  our  love  and  fidelity  to  him,  as  to  put 
the  question  to  our  own  hearts.  Could  we  be  content  to  lie 
in  hell,  or  be  in  the  state  of  the  damned  forever  for  his  glory  1 
For  it  were  a  most  injurious  and  vile  supposition  of  some- 
what inconsistent  with  his  own  most  blessed  nature,  and 
eternal,  essential  felicity,  (for  his  happiness  cannot  but  be 
much  placed  in  the  benignity  of  his  nature,)  to  imagine 
that  he  ever  can  be  pleased,  or  esteem  himself  glorified,  by 
the  everlasting  miseries  of  any  one  that  truly  loves  him. 
We  ought  to  abhor  the  mention  or  imagination  of  such  a 
thing,  as  a  blasphemy  against  his  infinite  goodness  :  the  de- 
nial whereof  were  to  deny  his  Godhead.  And  it  were  also 
an  absurd  and  self-contradicting  supposition:  for  none  can 
be  in  the  state  of  the  damned,  but  they  must  be  aL-o  in  a 
state  of  enmity  to  God,  and  of  all  wickedness  and  ma- 
lignity arrived  and  grown  up  to  its  highest  pitch  ;  which 
indeed  is  the  very  horror  and  inmost  centre  of  hell ;  wick- 
edness and  eternal  misery  differing  (for  the  most  part)  but 
in  degree,  as  grace  and  glory  do.  So  that  to  pin  ourselves 
upon  this  trial  of  sincerity  towards  God,  were  to  ask  our- 
selves, whether  we  would  be  willing  to  express  our  sincere 
love  to  God,  by  everlasting  hatred  of  him;  and  the  truth 
of  our  grace,  by  being  as  maliciously  wicked  as  the  devil 
and  his  angels  1  The  expressions  of  Moses  and  Paul  so 
frequently  alleged  can  be  wiredrawn  to  no  such  sense. 
This  is  no  place  to  discuss  the  importance  of  them.  But 
it  were  certainl}'  most  imprudent  (whatsoever  they  import) 
to  seek  marks  of  sincere  love  to  God  thence,  which  vmy 
be  fetched  from  so  many  plain  texts  of  Scripture.  But  it 
is  out  of  question  that  we  may  and  ought  to  mind  and 
take  complacency  in  our  own  blessedness,  in  a  degree  in- 
ferior and  subordinate  to  that  which  we  take  in  the  glory 
of  the  blessed  God,  without  making  the  sinful  and  absurd 
supposition  of  their  inconsistency;  or  that  we  can  ever 
be  pixt  to  choose  the  absence  or  privation  of  the  one  as  a 
means  to  the  other.  And  such  complacency  and  delight 
in  God  as  arises  upon  such  grounds  is  of  the  right  stamp 
and  kind. 

See  then  that  yours  be  a  well  complexioned  delight,  and 
such  as  inwardly  partakes  of  the  true  nature  of  religion, 
i.  c.  that  hath  in  it  entire  devotedness  to  God  as  the  very 
life,  soul,  spirit  of  it.  And  if  this  be  not  the  thing,  but 
merely  self-satisfaction,  which  you  chiefly  have  in  pursuit 
under  the  name  of  delisrht  in  God;  you  beat  the  air,  and 
do  but  hunt  after  a  shadow.     For  there  is  no  such  thing 


408 


OP  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


Part  II. 


as  real,  solid  delight  in  God  any  where  existing,  or  ever 
will  be,  separalely  and  apart  from  a  supreme  love  and  ad- 
dictedness  of  heart  lo  him  and  his  interest  as  our  chief 
and  utmost  end.  Which  temper  of  spirit  towards  him, 
must  be  maintained  and  improved,  by  our  fixed  intuition 
and  view  of  his  glorious  greatness,  and  absolute  excellen- 
cy and  perfection  ;  and  the  congruily  and  fitness  which 
we  thereupon  apprehend,  that  we  and  all  things  (as  all  are 
of  him)  should  be  wholly  to  him,  that  he  alone  may  have 
the  glory. 

5.  And  though  you  are  not  to  prefer  the  consideration 
of  your  own  intere.st  in  God  as  a  good  suitable  to  you,  or 
to  give  it  the  highest  place  in  your  delight ;  yet  also  you 
must  take  heed  of  neglecting  it,  or  of  denying  it  any  place 
at  all.  For  though  we  may  plainly  observe,  as  hath  been 
said;  that  it  was  the  usual  temper  of  holy  men  of  old,  to 
be  most  taken  up  in  admiring  God  upon  the  account  of 
his  own  excellency  and  gloiy,  in  itself  considered  ;  and 
may  thence  collect  that  to  be  the  genuine  right  temper  of 
a  gracious  heart  when  it  is  most  itself:  yet  also  'tis  as  evi- 
dent, that  they  were  far  from  neglecting  their  own  interest 
in  God,  and  that  they  counted  it  not  a  small  matter;  yea, 
that  it  had  (though  not  the  principal)  a  very  great  influ- 
ence upon  their  delight  and  joy  in  him.  No  one  can  read 
the  Bible,  and  not  have  frequent  occasion  to  take  notice  of 
this.  For  how  ol^en  do  we  find  him  spoken  of  under  the 
names  of  their  portion,  heritage,  &c.  And  in  what  raptures 
of  joy  do  we  often  find  them  upon  that  account!  So  the 
Psalmist  considers  him,  when  he  says.  The  lines  are  fallen 
to  him  in  pleasant  places,  and  he  had  a  goodly  heritage. >• 
How  often  do  we  find  them  glorying  in  their  relation  by 
covenant,  and  making  their  boasts  of  him  as  their  God  ;  I 
will  love  thee,  O  Lord,  my  strength,^  &c.  You  have  my 
no  less  than  nine  times  repeated  in  the  beginning  (the  first 
and  second  verses)  of  that  psalm, — my  strength,  my  rock, 
my  fortress,  my  deliverer,  my  God,  &c.  And  afterwards 
how  glorious  a  triumph  is  there  raised,  and  in  what  ex- 
ultation do  we  behold  them  upon  this  !  "  Who  is  God  save 
the  Lord,  and  who  is  a  rock  save  our  God  1"'  And  again, 
"  The  Lord  liveth,  and  blessed  be  my  rock,  and  let  the 
God  of  my  salvation  be  exalted."  And  this  was  some  of 
the  last  holy  breath  uttered  by  that  anointed  one  of  the 
God  of  Jacob,  and  the  sweet  Psalmist  of  Israel ;  He  hath 
made  with  me  an  everlasting  covenant  ordered  in  all  things 
and  sure ;"  and  this  is  all  my  salvation  and  all  my  desire. 
With  this,  how  well  satisfied  and  pleased  did  he  expire, 
and  go  down  to  the  grave !  And  the  people  of  God  are 
sometime  represented  as  so  taken  with  this  apprehension 
of  their  peculiar  relation  to  God,  that  they  cannot  be  con- 
tent to  know,  but  they  proclaim  it ;  nor  was  it  enough  the 
present  age  should  know,  but  they  must  have  it  told  the 
followinggeneration  ;  Let  mount  Sion  rejoice,  &c.  Mark 
— That  ye  may  tell  the  generation  following'^ — For  this 
God  is  our  God.  See  their  ostentation  of  him,  this  God  ? 
q.  d.  "  Behold  what  a  God  have  we  !  view  him  well,  and 
take  notice  how  glorious  a  God  he  is."  And  as  they  glory 
in  the  greatness  of  the  God  to  whom  they  were  related,  so 
they  do  in  the  eternity  of  the  relation.  This  God  is  our 
God  for  ever  and  ever !  &c.  And  how  unexpressible  was 
the  inward  pleasure  wherewith  we  may  suppose  those 
words  to  have  been  uttered,  God,  even  our  own  God,  shall 
bless  us  \y  How  delightful  an  appropriation  !  as  if  it  were 
intended  to  be  said,  the  blessing  itself  were  less  significant, 
it  could  not  have  that  savour  with  it,  if  it  were  not  from 
our  own  God.  Not  only  therefore  allow  but  urge  your 
spirits  thus  to  look  towards  God,  that  you  may  both  de- 
lig>ht  in  him,  as  being  in  himself  the  most  excellent  one, 
and  also  as  being  yours ;  for  know,  you  are  not  permitted 
only,  but  obliged,  to  eye,  accept,  and  rejoice  in  him  as  such. 
It  is  his  first  and  great  law,  and  the  form  of  his  covenant 
which  he  requires  you  to  enter  into  with  him,  to  take  him 
for  your  God.  Herein  to  be  shy  and  decline,  is  to  rebel. 
And  when  he  otfers  himself  in  all  his  rich  fulness  to  be 
your  portion  and  your  God,  how  vile  ingratitude  were  it 
to  neglect  and  overlook  the  kindness  of  the  overture  !  It 
is  his  glory  to  have  indigent  souls  satiating  themselves  in 
him,  drawing  from  him  their  vital  breath,  living  upon  him 
as  their  all :  confessing  they  cannot  live,  but  by  his  vouch- 


r  Psal.  xvi. 
u  3  dam.  xxiii. 


B  Psal.  xviii. 
X  PsaJ.  .xlviii. 


safed  communications.  And  if  you  should  say  you  love 
him,  but  so  he  be  ever  glorious  in  himself,  you  care  not  to 
be  happy ;  it  would  sound  like  a  hollow  compliment.  You 
are  not  to  deal  with  a  God  upon  such  terms.  It  becomes 
you  not,  nor  is  suitable  to  him.  It  is  fit  for  you  to  own 
it  to  him,  that  he  is  your  life,  that  you  are  a  mere  nothing 
in  yourself,  and  must  seek  your  all  in  him.  Your  song 
and  your  prayer  must  be  directed  to  him  as  the  God  of 
your  life.2  You  do  not  own  him  as  God,  except  you  own 
and  adore  him  as  your  all-sufficient  good,  and  that  fulness 
which  filleth  all  in  all.  You  detract  from  the  glory  of  his 
Godhead,  if  you  attribute  not  this  to  him ;  and  if  accord- 
ingly, as  one  that  cannot  live  without  him,  you  do  not  seek 
union  with  him,  and  join  yourself  to  him,  and  then  rejoice 
and  solace  yourself  in  that  blessect  conjunction. 

And  if  you  be  not  sure  as  yet  that  he  is  yours,  your  de- 
lighting in  him  is  not  therefore  to  be  suspended  and  de- 
layed till  you  be.  But  in  the  meantime  delight  in  him  as 
willing  to  become  yours.  To  disbelieve  that  he  is  willing, 
is  to  give  him  the  lie.  It  is  the  great  design  of  his  Gospel 
so  to  represent  him  to  you.  See  that  your  hearts  do  em- 
brace and  close  with  that  as  a  most  delightful  and  lovely 
representation  :  the  great  and  glorious  Lord  of  heaven  and 
earth  oflTering  himself  in  all  his  fulness  to  be  thine !  thy 
portion  and  thy  God  for  ever  !  How  transporting  should 
this  be  to  you !  Nor,  if  you  suspect  the  sincerity  of  your 
own  heart  towards  him,  (which  is  the  only  thing  you  can 
have  any  pretence  to  suspect,  for  it  were  a  blasphemy  to 
his  truth  and  goodness  to  intimate  a  suspicious  thought  of 
him,)  may  you  therefore  spend  all  your  time  in  anxious  in- 
quiries, or  in  looking  only  upon  your  own  evil  heart;  but 
look  most,  and  with  a  direct  and  steady  eye,  towards  him. 
Behold  and  view  well  his  glory  and  his  love,  that  by  this 
means  your  heart  may  be  captivated  and  more  entirely 
won  to  him. 

This  makes  delight  in  God  a  strange  thing  in  the  hearts 
and  practice  of  many.  They  find  too  much  cause  of  com- 
plaint concerning  their  own  hearts,  that  they  are  disaff'ecied 
and  disinclined  God-ward.  And  what  is  the  course  they 
take  hereupon  1  Their  religion  is  nothing  but  complaint ; 
and  all  their  days  are  spent  in  beholding  that  they  are  bad, 
without  ever  taking  the  way  to  become  better.  They  con- 
clude their  case  to  be  evil  and  full  of  danger,  because  they 
find  they  can  take  no  delight  in  God ;  and  they  will  take 
no  delight  in  him  because  they  have  that  apprehension  of 
the  danger  of  their  case.  And  so  their  not  delighting  in 
God  resolves  into  itself.  And  they  delight  not  in  him 
because  they  delight  not  in  him.  'Tis  strange  the  absurdi- 
ty of  this  is  not  more  reflected  on.  And  what  now  is  to 
be  done  in  this  case  1  To  rest  here  is  to  be  held  in  a  cir- 
cle of  sin  and  misery  all  your  days  ;  and  would  signify  as 
if  delighting  in  God  were  a  simple  impossibility,  or  as  if 
not  to  delight  in  God,  were  a  thing  so  highly  rational  as 
to  be  its  own  sufficient  self-justification ;  and  that  it  were 
reason  enough  not  to  delight  in  him  because  we  do  not. 
There  can  be  no  other  way  to  be  taken  but  to  behold  him 
more  in  that  discoveryof  him  which  his  Gospel  sets  before 
your  eyes,  and  in  that  way  seek  to  have  your  hearts  taken 
with  his  amiableness  and  love,  and  allured  to  delight  in 
him.  And  labour  in  this  way  to  have  that  delight  increased 
to  that  degree,  that  it  may  cease  to  be  a  question  or  doubt 
with  you,  Do  I  delight  in  God  or  no  ?  Whence  when  you 
reflect  and  find  that  you  do,  then  shall  you  have  that  ad- 
ditional matter  of  further  delight ;  that  whereas  you  before 
took  delight  in  him  because  being  in  himself  so  excellent 
a  one  he  hath  freely  offered  him.self  to  you  to  become 
yours,  you  may  now  delight  in  him  also,  because  you  are 
sure  he  is  so;  whereof  you  cannot  have  a  more  satisfying 
assurance  than  from  his  so  express  saying,  I  love  them 
that  love  me ;»  and  we  love  him  because  he  loved  us 
first,  b 

6.  Take  especial  heed  of  more  apparentand  grosser  trans- 
gressions. Nor  account  your  security  from  the  danger  of 
them  so  much  to  stand  in  your  being  ordinarily  out  of  the 
way  of  temptations  to  them,  as  in  an  habitual  frame  of 
holiness,  and  the  settled  aversion  of  your  heart  to  them. 
Endeavour  a  growing  conformity  to  God  in  the  temper  ol 
your  spirit,  and  to  be  in  love  with  purity;  that  your  heart 


y  Psal.  Ixvii.  6. 
a  Prov.  viii. 


z  Psal.  xlii.  8. 
b  1  Jolm  iv. 


Part  II. 


OP  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


409 


may  no  more  endure  an  impure  thought,  than  you  would 
fire  in  your  bosom.  If  you  be  herein  careless  and  remiss, 
and  suffer  your  heart  to  grow  dissolute,  or  more  bold  and 
adventurous,  in  admittingsinful  cogitations;  or  if  you  have 
more  liking  or  less  dislike  of  any  wicked  course  wherein 
others  take  their  liberty  ;  you  are  approaching  the  borders 
of  a  dangerous  precipice.  And  if  some  greater  breach 
hereupon  ensue  between  God  and  you,  what  becomes  of 
your  delight  in  him !  A  sad  interruption  of  such  pleasant 
intercourse  cannot  but  follow,  both  on  his  part  and  on 
yours.  On  his  part,  a  suspension  and  restraint  of  those 
communications  of  light  and  grace  which  are  necessary 
to  your  delight  in  him.  He  v;ill  be  just  in  his  way 
of  dealing  towards  those  of  his  own  family,  as  well  as 
merciful.  It  appears  how  much  David's  delight  in  God 
was  intermitted,  upon  his  great  transgression,  through 
God's  withdrawing  from  him,  when  he  prays  he  would 
restore  the  joy  of  his  salvation.'^  And  on  your  part,  will 
ensue  both  less  liking  of  God's  presence,  and  dread  of  it. 
Your  inclination  will  not  be  towards  him  as  before;  though 
the  act  of  sin  be  soon  over,  the  effect  will  remain  ;  even 
a  carnal  frame  of  spirit  that  disaffects  converse  with  God, 
and  cares  not  to  come  nigh  him.  And  if  that  were  not,  a 
guilty  fear  would  hold  j'ou  otf ;  so  that  if  you  were  willing, 
you  would  not  dare  to  approach  him.  Your  liberty  taken 
to  sin  would  soon  infer  a  bondage  upon  your  spirit  God- 
ward,  unless  conscience  be  wholly  asleep  ;  and  you  have 
learned  a  stupid,  insolent  confidence  to  affront  God,  which 
surely  would  signify  little  to  your  delight  in  him.  Thou 
shalt  put  away  iniquity  from  thy  tabernacles.  Then  shalt 
thou  have  thy  delight  in  the  Almighty;  and  shalt  lift  up 
thy  face  unto  God.d  The  conscience  of  unpurged  iniquity 
will  not  let  you  lift  up  your  face  or  appear  in  that  glorious 
presence. 

7.  Cherish  the  great  grace  of  humility;  and  be  ever 
mean  and  low  in  your  own  eyes.  That  temper  carries  in 
it  even  a  natural  disposition  to  delight  in  God.  How 
sweet  complacency  will  such  a  soul  take  in  him!  His 
light  and  glory  shine  with  great  lustre  in  the  eyes  of  such 
a  one  while  there  is  not  a  nearer,  imagined  lustre  to  vie 
therewith.  Stars  are  seen  at  noon,  by  them  that  descend 
low  into  a  deep  pit.  They  will  admire  God  but  little  that 
admire  themselves  much!  and  take  little  pleasure  in  him, 
who  are  too  much  pleased  with  themselves.  And  how 
sweet  a  relish  have  his  love  and  grace  to  an  humble,  lowly 
soul,  that  esteems  itself  less  than  the  least  of  his  mercies! 
With  what  ravishing  delight  will  Divine  mercy  be  enter- 
tained, when  it  is  so  unexpectedly  vouchsafed  ;  when  this 
shall  be  the  sense  of  the  soul  now  caught  into  the  embraces 
of  God's  love.  What  I,  vile  creature  I  impure  worm  !  what, 
beloved  of  God !  Expectation,  grounded  especially  upon 
an  opinion  of  merit,  would  unspeakably  lessen  a  favour,  if 
it  were  afforded,  as  also  expected  evils  seem  the  less  when 
the}^  come.  But  the  lowly  soul,  that  apprehends  desert  of 
nothing  but  hell,  is  surprised  and  overcome  with  wonder 
and  delight,  when  the  great  God  expresses  kindness  to- 
wards it.  Besides  that  he  more  freely  communicates  him- 
self to  such  ;  To  this  man  will  I  look,  even  to  him  that  is 
poor  and  of  a  contrite  spirit, <=  &c.  And  he  looks  to  such 
with  a  design  of  habitation ;  heaven  and  earth  are  not  to 
him  so  pleasant  a  dwelling.  Down  then  into  the  dust ; 
there  you  are  in  the  fittest  place  and  posture  for  delightful 
converse  with  God. 

8.  Reckon  much  upon  an  eternal  abode  in  that  presence 
where  is  fulness  of  joy  and  pleasures  for  evermore.  En- 
joy by  a  serious,  believing  foresight  the  delights  of  heaven  ; 
labour  to  rejoice  in  hope  of  the  glory  of  God.  Look  be- 
5'ond  this  your  present  state.  Confine  not  your  eye  and 
delight  to  what  is  now  to  be  enjoyed,  but  think  of  what 
shall  be.  Set  before  your  eyes  the  glorious  prospect  of  the 
blessed  God  communicating  himself  to  that  vast  assembly 
of  angels  and  the  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect,  in 
clearest  discoveries  of  his  glory,  and  richest  efiusions  of 
his  goodness.  The  best  appearance  of  things  in  this  world, 
makes  but  a  dull  scene  in  comparison  of  this.  If  you  look 
towards  God  according  to  what  now  appears  of  his  glory 
in  the  frame  of  the  universe,  and  the  course  of  his  admi- 
nistrations and  government  over  his  creatures,  he  hath  not, 
'tis  true,  left  himself  without  witness.     And  you  may  be- 

c  Paal.  U.  12.  d  Job  xxii. 


hold  much  that  would  be  to  you  the  matter  of  delightful 
admiration  ;  if  your  eye  be  clear,  and  can  pierce  through 
clouds  and  darkness  and  a  manifold  veil.  He  hath  made 
this  world,  and  is  every  where  in  it,  but  it  knows  him  not. 
His  light  shines  in  darkness,  that  doth  not  comprehend  it. 
Beams  of  his  glory  do  every  where  break  forth,  through 
every  creature,  providence,  law,  and  ordinance  of  his. 
But  much  of  his  glory,  that  shines  in  the  creation  is  hid 
by  a  train  of  second  causes,  through  which  few  look  to  the 
first.  His  laws  men  judge  of  according  to  their  interests 
and  inclinations,  while  the  holy,  glorious  majesty  that 
enacted  them  is  out  of  sight.  His  work  in  the  world  is 
carried  on  in  a  mystery.  His  interest  lives,  but  is  depressed. 
They  who  are  most  devoted  to  him  are  supported  indeed 
by  his  invisible  hand,  but  are,  in  the  meantime,  low,  for 
the  most  part,  and  afflicted.  If  you  now  limit  and  confine 
your  apprehensions  of  him  to  his  present  appearances,  the 
matter  of  your  delight  is  real,  but  much  diminished.  But 
conceive  of  him  (as  your  faith  can  behold  him  at  a  dis- 
tance) in  that  posture  wherein  having  settled  the  eternal 
state  of  things  he  will  finally  show  himself.  Conceive  him 
as  having  now  gathered  home  all  that  have  been  recovered 
to  him  out  of  the  apostaey,  and  joined  them  to  those  num- 
berless legions  of  innocent  and  pure  spirits  about  his  throne 
that  never  offended.  Conceive  him  a.s  dispensing  rewards, 
pouring  out  blessings,  upon  the  loyal  heads  and  hearts  of 
them  that  expressed  fidelity  and  duty  to  him  in  the  time 
and  state  of  trial  and  temptation;  lelting  his  glory  shine 
out  with  bright  and  direct  beams,  to  so  man)'  beholding 
and  admiring  eyes ;  giving  forth  the  full  and  satisfying 
communications  of  his  love,  and  making  rivers  of  pleasure 
flow  perpetually  to  the  replenishing  the  vast  enlarged  ca- 
pacities, of  so  innumerable  a  multitude  of  grateful  adoring 
spirits,  to  whom  it  is  now  sensibly  to  be  perceived  how  his 
fulness  filleth  all  in  all.  Take  this  view  of  him;  and  let 
j'our  faith  and  hope  thus  enter  into  that  which  is  within 
the  veil.  And  remember  there  is  only  a  little  time  betweeu 
you  and  that  blessed  state;  that  then  you  are  to  enter  into 
the  joy  of  your  Lord;  so  that  the  very  element  and  region 
wherein  j^ou  are  to  live  for  ever,  shall  he  nothing  else  but 
delight  and  joy.  In  this  way  of  believing  foresight,  and 
by  this  lawful  and  allowed  prepossession  of  future  blessed- 
ness, much  surel)'  would  be  added  to  your  present  delight 
in  God.  Should  not  the  thoughts  of  him  be  plea.sant  to 
}'ou  from  whom  you  are  expecting  so  great  things  1  If 
)'our  delight  in  him  be  any  at  all,  upon  what  you  have 
already  found  and  experienced  of  his  goodness  ;  it  should 
be  abundantly  the  more  upon  what  you  are  by  his  word 
encouraged  to  look  for. 

And  having  thus  given  some  account  in  what  way  de- 
light in  God  is  to  he  exercised  and  improved  ;  it  were  a 
charitable  hope  that  there  would  be  little  need  to  propound 
arguments  to  persuade  unto  it.  But  it  were  a  hope  not 
groiindedupon  common  experience,  which  too  plainly  tells 
us,  that  though  such  directions  as  these  are  plain  and 
obvious,  not  unknown  to  Christians,  hut  only  less  con- 
sidered, (whence  it  was  not  needless  here  to  recommend 
them,)  yet  delight  in  God  obtains  little  place  in  the  prac- 
tice of  the  most.  There  will  therefore  too  probabh'  be 
still  much  need  of  excitation  to  it. 

And  yet  because  it  is  not  multitude  of  words  that  is  like- 
ly to  do  the  business,  but  the  weight  of  things,  urged  on 
by  a  more  powerful  hand  than  that  of  man,  and  that  much 
may  be  collected  to  tliis  purpose  from  what  hath  been  said 
of  the  sinfulness  of  the  omission;  I  shall,  with  great  bre- 
vity, offer  these  things  only  to  be  considered. 

Is  it  not  a  merciful  vonchsafement  that  the  holy  God 
allows  you  to  place  your  delight  on  him,  and  invites  you 
to  it  1  How  much  grace  and  love  breathes  in  these  words, 
"  Delight  thyself  also  in  the  Lord  !"  Trust  in  him  was  re- 
commended before,  and  now  this  being  added  also;  how 
plain  is  it  that  your  ease  and  rest  is  the  thing  designed! 
Is  it  fit  to  receive  so  much  kindness  with  neglect  1  Again, 
he  delights  in  you,  I  speak  to  such  of  whom  this  may  be 
supposed.  Audit  is  indefinitely  said,  his  delights  f  were 
with  the  sons  of  men.  Think  what  he  is,  and  what  you 
are  ;  and  at  once,  both  wonder  and  yield.  And  what  else 
have  vou  to  delight  in  1  what  thin?  will  you  ntjme  that 
shall  supply  the  place  of  GOD,  or  be  to  you  in  the  .stead 
Isa.  l.\vi.  1,2.  f  Pxov.  viii. 


410 


OF  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


Part  II. 


of  him  1  Moreover,  who  should  delight  in  him  but  you  1 
his  friends  1  his  sons  1  those  of  his  own  house  1  Think 
what  life  and  vigour  it  will  infuse  into  you  ;  and  that,  the 
joy  of  the  Lord  will  be  your  strength.?  How  pleasantly 
will  you  hold  on  your  course  I  and  discharge  all  the  other 
duties  of  this  your  present  state  !  You  must  serve  him. 
Dare  you  think  of  throwing  off  his  yoke  1  How  desirable 
is  it  then  to  take  delight  in  him  whom  I  must  serve ! 
which  only  makes  that  service  acceptable  to  him,  and  easy 
to  myself!  Further,  this  is  a  pleasure  none  can  rob  you 
of;  a  joy  that  cannot  be  taken  from  you.  Other  objects  of 
your  delight  are  vanishing  daily.  Neither  men  nor  devils 
can  ever  hinder  your  delighting  in  God,  if  your  hearts  be 
so  inclined.  And  were  you  never  brought  to  take  pleasure 
in  any  person  or  thing  to  which  you  had  a  former  aversion  1 
One  that  had  wronged  you  might  yet  possibly  win  you  by 
after-kindness.  Give  a  reason  why  you  should  be  more 
difficult  towards  the  blessed  God,  that  never  wronged  you ! 
and  whose  way  towards  you  hath  constantly  imported  so 
much  good  will ! 

And  consider  that  your  condition  on  earth  is  such,  as 
exposes  you  to  many  sufferings  and  hardships  ;  which  by 
your  not  delighting  in  him,  you  can  never  be  sure  to  avoid, 
(for  they  are  things  common  to  men,)  but  which,  by  your 
delighting  in  him,  you  may  be  easily  able  to  endure.  Be- 
sides all  this,  serioiisly  consider  that  you  must  die.  You 
can  make  no  shift  to  avoid  that.  How  easily  tolerable  and 
pleasant  will  it  be  to  think,  then,  of  going  to  him  with 
whom  you  have  lived  in  a  delightful  communion  before  ! 
And  how  dreadful  to  appear  before  him,  to  whom  your 
own  heart  shall  accuse  you  to  have  been  (against  all  his 
importunities  and  allurements)  a  disaffected  stranger ! 

To  these  I  add  the  consideration  in  the  other  part  of  the 
verse ;  "  And  he  shall  give  thee  the  desire  of  thine  heart." 
By  desire,  'tis  plain  we  are  to  understand  the  thing  de- 
sired, which  is  usual.  By  the  thing  desired,  we  must  not 
be  so  unreasonable  as  to  think  is  meant,  any  thing,  what- 
sover  it  be,  that,  even  with  the  greatest  extravagancy,  we 
may  set  our  hearts  upon  ;  as  worldly  possessions,  riches, 
honours,  &c.  For  it  were  most  unbecoming  that  delight 
in  God  should  be  so  mercenary  ;  or  be  propounded  as  the 
price  of  so  mean  things  ;  yea,  and  if  the  matter  were  so  to 
be  understood,  delight  in  God  were  a  means  to  the  attain- 
ing of  these  things  as  the  end  ;  which  were  to  make  the 
blessed  God  an  inferior  good  to  these.  Nor  can  we  sup- 
pose that  one  who  delights  in  God  should  ever  esteem  any 
reward  or  recompense  of  another  kind,  greater  than  what 
he  finds  in  this  very  delight  itself  And  besides,  we  are 
very  prone  to  desire  things  that  (as  the  case  may  be)  would 
prove  very  hurtful  to  us.  If  God  should  gratify  us  with 
every  thing  we  fancy,  he  should  many  times  please  us  to 
our  ruin.  And  do  we  believe  that  when  he  hath  won  a 
person  to  place  his  delight  and  take  pleasure  in  himself, 
he  will  requite  him  with  a  mischief?  Since  then  we  may 
not  understand  him  to  mean,  that  whatsoever  we  desire,  if 
we  delight  in  him,  we  shall  have ;  we  are  to  inquire  fur- 
ther. And  'tis  plain  the  things  that  can  be  supposed  to 
be  desired  by  such  perst)ns  as  are  here  spoken  to,  must  be 
of  one  of  these  two  sorts  :  either  things  of  a  spiritual  na- 
ture, that  tend  directly  to  the  gratification  and  advantage 
of  the  inward  man;  or  else  external  good  things,  that 
make  lor  the  support  and  comfort  of  this  present  life.  We 
will  suppose  it  to  be  the  one  or  the  other  of  these.  And 
shall  show  that  whichsoever  sort  it  be  that  is  desired,  de- 
lighting in  God  doth  naturally  infer  the  satisfaction  (some 
way  or  other)  of  such  desires. 

1.  Supposing  they  be  spiritual  good  things  that  are  de- 
sired, delight  in  God  is  most  directly  the  satisfaction  of 
such  desire.  Whatsoever  purely  spiritual  good  we  can 
desire,  is  either  God  himself,  or  somewhat  in  order  to  him. 
If  it  be  God  himself  we  desire,  so  far  as  we  delight  in  him 
we  enjoy  him,  and  have  what  we  would  have ;  and  can 
only  enjoy  him  more  fully,  by  more  entire  and  composed 
rest  and  delight  in  him.  If  it  be  somewhat  in  order  to 
him,  he  is  still  supremely  and  ultimately  desired  in  that 
very  desire;  so  that  in  delighting  in  him,  we  have  our 
end,  and  that  upon  which  this  desire  doth  lastly  termi- 
nate. And  "ow  should  not  this  be  a  great  inducement 
to  us  to  delight  m  God,  that  hereby  our  desires,  the  mo- 
g  Nehem.  viii. 


tions  of  our  working  hearts  directed  towards  him,  do  im- 
mediately find  in  him  a  peaceful  and  pleasant  rest,  and 
turn  into  a  satisfying  fruition  "? 

3.  Supposing  the  things  we  desire  be  those  of  an  inferior 
kind ;  delight  in  God  doth  not  a  little  to  the  satisfying  of 
them  also.  It  doth  not,  as  was  said,  entitle  us  to  the  things 
themselves  we  desire,  whatever  they  be,  or  how  unsuit- 
able soever  to  us. 

But,  first,  it  moderates  these  desires,  makes  them  sober, 
prudent,  and  rational,  and  capable  of  being  satisfied  with 
what  is  fit  for  us.  He  that  is  much  habituated  to  delight 
in  God,  is  not  apt  to  foolish  extravagant  desires.  This  is 
the  sense  of  such  a  one,  "  Not  my  will.  Lord,  but  thine, 
be  done."  He  may  desire  the  same  thing  that  others  do, 
yet  not  with  the  same  peremptory  and  precipitant  desire, 
but  with  a  desire  tempered  with  submission,  and  with  a 
reserved  deference  of  the  matter  to  the  Divine  pleasure  : 
"  This  thing,  Lord,  I  desire,  if  thou  see  good."  So  that 
the  general  object  of  such  a  one's  desire  is  only  that  which 
in  the  Divine  estimate  is  fit  and  good  for  him.  And 
though  he  desire  this  or  that  particular  thing,  yet  not  as  it 
is  this  thing,  but  as  supposing  it  possible  this  thing  may 
be  judged  fit  for  him  by  the  Supreme  wi.sdom,  whereto  he 
hath  referred  the  matter.  But  if  it  shall  be  judged  other- 
wise ;  this  thing  falls  without  the  compass  of  the  general 
object  of  his  desire,  and  in  just  construction  he  desires  it 
not.  For  he  desires  it  not  otherwise  than  on  that  con- 
dition that  God  sees  it  meet  for  him ;  and  not  longer  than 
till  he  finds  he  does  not.  In  which  case  the  sobriety  and 
submissiveness  of  his  former  desire,  appears  in  his  cheer- 
ful, patient  want  of  the  thing  which  he  finds  God  hath 
thought  fit  to  deny  him.  So  that  even  then,  his  desire  is 
satisfied,  that  is,  it  doth  not  (as  often  it  is  with  a  carnal 
heart)  turn,  being  crossed,  into  rage  and  madness;  but 
into  a  complacential  peace  and  rest  in  the  Divine  will. 
He  is  satisfied  in  what  God  hath  thought  fit  to  do.  Yea, 
the  very  thing  is  done  which  he  would  have  done:  Gud 
hath  given  him  his  heart's  desire.  For  let  the  question  be 
put  to  such  a  person.  Do  you  desire  such  a  thing,  though 
God  judge  it  will  be  hurtful  to  you  or  unfit  for  you  1  and 
no  doubt  he  will,  not  in  faint  words  that  have  no  sense 
under  them,  (as  almost  any  other  man  would,)  but  from 
his  very  heart  and  soul,  say.  No.  And  if  he  deliberate 
the  matter  of  his  own  accord,  or  by  any  one's  inquiry  be 
occasioned  to  do  so,  this  will  be  found  the  sense  of  his 
heart,  (though  his  desire  hath  inclined  to  this  or  that  thing 
in  particular,)  and  this  would  be  his  prayer  in  such  a  case, 
"Lord,  if  thy  wisdom,  which  is  infinitely  more  than  mine, 
see  this  thing  not  fit,  cross  me,  deny  me  in  this  desiie  of 
mine."  And  this  general  desire  at  least,  which  is  the  mea- 
sure of  the  particular  one,  is  sure  to  be  accomplished  to 
one  that  hath  God  for  his  delight.  For  the  promise  is  ex- 
press and  cannot  fail,  All  things  shall  work  together  for 
good,  to  them  that  love  God.ii 

And  this  love  to  God,  or  delight  in  him,  as  it  entitles 
such  to  that  his  care  and  concern  for  them  which  is  ex- 
pressed in  this  promise ;  so  it  doth  in  its  own  nature  dispose 
their  hearts  to  an  acquiescence  and  satisfiedness  therein. 
For  love  to  God,  where  it  is  true,  is  supreme,  and  prevails 
over  all  other  lore  to  thisor  that  particular  good.  Whence 
it  cannot  be,  but  if  this  love  be  in  act,  (as  the  text 'must  be 
understood  to  call  unto  actual  and  exercised  delight  in 
God,)  it  must  subdue  and  keep  the  heart  so  far  subject  to 
the  Divine  good  pleasure,  as  that  its  desire  and  addicted- 
ness  to  this  particular,  lesser  good,  (concerning  which  there 
may  also  be  a  just  and  rational  doubt  whether  it  will  be 
now  a  good  to  him  yea  or  no,)  shall  never  be  a  matter  of 
controversy  and  quarrel  with  him  who  is,  imquestionably, 
the  supreme  and  universal  good.  How  will  that  one 
thought  overcome,  if  such  a  one  shall  but  apprehend  God 
saying  to  him,  "  Dost  thou  love  me  above  all  things,  and 
will  yet  contend  with  me  for  such  a  trifle  !" 

And  we  may  by  the  way  note,  that  upon  this  ground 
of  the  dubious  mutability  of  external  good  things,  (which, 
by  circumstances,  may  become  evil  to  this  or  that  person,) 
as  they  are  not  here,  so  nor  can  they  be  any  where,  the  mat- 
ter of  a  general  absolute  promise,  to  be  claimed  indefinitely 
by  any  one's  faith.  The  nature  of  the  thing  refuses  it. 
For  suppose  we,  that  what  may,  in  this  or  that  case,  be- 

h  Rom.  viii.  28. 


Part  II. 


OP  DELIGHTING  IN  GOD. 


411 


come  evil  or  prejudicial  to  this  or  at  person,  doth  now 
actually  become  so,  and  is  the  matter  of  an  absolute  pro- 
mise, now  claimable  by  such  a  person,  what  would  follow "? 
That  an  evil  is  now  the  actual  matter  of  a  promise  !  than 
which  what  can  be  said  or  supposed  more  absurd  1  when 
nothing  can  further  or  otherwise  be  the  matter  of  a  pro- 
mise, than  as  it  is  good.  Wherefore  that  promise  would, 
in  the  supposed  case,  degenerate,  (as  the  matter  of  it  is  by 
the  present  circumstances  varied,)  and  turn  into  a  threaten- 
ing. Wherefore  when  that  condition  or  proviso  is  not  ex- 
pressly added  to  a  promise  concerning  a  temporal  good, 
the  very  nature  of  the  thing  implies,  and  requires  it  to  be 
understood.  For  it  is  not  otherwise  than  as  qualified  by 
that  condition,  any  way  a  promise.  Now  he  that  is  in  the 
present  exercise  of  delight  in  God,  hath  his  heart  so  set 
upon  God  and  alienated  from  earthly  things,  as  that  the 
present  temper  of  it  bears  proportion  to  the  natural  tenor 
of  such  promises;  and  is  not,  otherwise  than  by  the  cessa- 
tion of  this  delight,  liable  to  the  torture  of  unsati,sfied  de- 
sire in  reference  to  these  lower  things:  Although  the  fig- 
tree  shal.  not  blossom — yet  I  will  rejoice  in  the  Lord,i  &c. 
And  as  delight  in  God  doth  thus  reduce  and  moderate  de- 
sires in  reference  to  any  inferior  good ;  so  that,  if  it  be 
withheld,  they  admit  a  satisfaction  without  it,  and  the 
want  of  it  is  easily  tolerable;  so, 

Secondly,  If  it  be  granted,  delight  in  God  adds  a  satis- 
fying sweetness  to  the  enjoyment.  A  lover  of  God  hath 
another  taste  and  relish,  even  of  earthly  good  things,  than 
an  earthly-minded  man  can  have.  He  hath  that  sweet  sa- 
vour of  the  love  of  God  upon  his  spirit,  that  imparts  a 
sweetness  to  all  the  enjoyments  of  this  world,  beyond  what 


i  Hab.  lii.  17, 18. 


k  Psal.  Ju'.vrii.  16. 


such  things  in  their  own  nature  have  with  them.  This 
makes  the  righteous  man's  little  better,  than  the  great  re- 
venues of  many  wicked. k 

Upon  the  whole  thereof  this  is,  if  duly  weighed,  a 
mighty  and  most  persuasive  argument  to  delight  in  God. 
For  it  imports  thus  much,  which  I  add  for  a  close  to 
this  discourse.  If  you  place  your  delight  here;  you  are 
most  certainly  delivered  from  the  vexation  and  torment  of 
unsatisfied  desire.  The  motions  of  your  souls  are  sure  to 
end  in  a  pleasant  rest.  Your  lesser  desires  will  be  swal- 
lowed up  in  greater,  and  all  in  the  Divine  fulness;  so 
that  you  will  now  say.  Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but  thee  1 
and  there  is  none  on  earth  I  desire  besides  thee.i  If  you 
take  no  delight  in  God,  your  own  souls  will  be  a  present 
hell  to  you.  And  it  may  be  it  is  not  enough  considered, 
how  much  the  future  hell  stands  also  in  unsatisfied  desire; 
which  desire  (all  suitable  objects  being  for  ever  cut  off 
from  it)  turns  wholly  to  despair,  rage,  and  torture.  And 
that  ravenous  appetite,  which  would  be  prej'ing  upon  ex- 
ternal objects  that  now  fail,  turns  inward,  and  as  an  insa- 
tiable vulture,  gnaws  everlastingly  the  wretched  soul  itself. 
And  the  beginnings  of  this  hell  you  will  now  have  within 
you,  while  you  refuse  to  delight  in  God.  The  sapless, 
earthly  vanities  upon  which  your  hearts  are  set,  give  you 
some  present  content,  which  allays  your  miser}-  for  a  little 
while,  and  renders  it  less  sensible  to  you  :  but  they  have 
nothing  in  them  to  answer  the  vast  desires  of  a  reasonable, 
immortal  spirit.  Whereby  you  certainly  doom  yourselves 
to  perpetual  disrest.  For  in  these  false,  vanishing  sha- 
dows of  goodness,  you  cannot  have  satisfaction,  and  in  the 
blessed  God  you  will  not. 

1  Psal.  bptiil  85. 


SELF-DEDICATION 

DISCOURSED  IN  THE  ANNIVERSARY  THANKSGIVING  OF  A  PERSON  OF  HONOUR 

FOR  A  GREAT  DELIVERANCE. 


TO  THE  RIGHT  HONOURABLE 
JOHN,  EARL  OF  KILDARE,  BARON  OF  OPHALIA, 

FIRST  OF  HIS  ORDER  IN  THE  KINGDOM  OF  IRELAND. 


My  Lord, 
T  LITTLE  thought  when,  in  so  private  a  way,  I  lately  offered  much  of  the  following  discourse  to  your  Lordship's  ear, 
1  should  receive  the  command  (which  I  am  not  now,  so  far  as  it  proves  to  me  a  possible  one,  to  disobey  or  further  to 
dispute)  of  exposing  it  thus  to  the  view  of  the  world,  or  so  much  a«  to  present  it  to  your  Lordship's  own  eye.  It  was 
indeed  impossible  to  me  to  give  an  exact  account  of  what  was  then  discoarsed,  from  a  memory  that  was  so  treacherous, 
as  to  let  slip  many  things  that  wet e  prepared  and  intended  to  have  been  said  that  day;  and  that  could  much  less 
(being  assisted  but  by  very  imperfect  memorials)  recollect  every  thing  that  was  said,  several  days  after.  Yet  I  account, 
upon  the  whole,  it  is  much  more  varied  by  enlargement,  than  by  dimmution ;  whereby,  I  hope,  it  will  be  nothing  less 
capable  of  serving  the  end  of  this  enjoined  publication  of  it.  And  I  cannot  doubt  but  the  injunction  proceeded  from 
the  same  pious  gratitude  to  the  God  of  your  life,  which  hath  prompted,  for  several  years  past,  to  the  observation  of 
that  domestic  annual  solemnity,  in  memory  of  your  great  preservation  from  so  near  a  death.*  That  the  remembrance 
of  so  great  a  me-rcy  might  be  the  more  deeply  impressed  with  yourself,  and  improved  also  (so  far  as  this  means  could 
signify  for  that  purpose)  to  the  instruction  of  many  others. 

Your  Lordship  was  pleased  to  allow  an  hour  to  the  hearing  of  that  discourse.  What  was  proposed  to  you  in  it,  is 
to  be  the  business  of  your  life.  And  what  is  to  be  done  continually,  is  once  to  be  thoroughly  done.  The  impression 
ought  to  be  very  inward,  and  strong,  which  must  be  so  lasting  as  to  govern  a  man's  life.  And  were  it  as  fully  done  as 
mortality  can  admit,  it  needs  be  more  solemnly  renewed  at  set  times  for  that  purpose.  And  indeed,  that  such  a  day 
should  not  pass  you  without  a  fall,  nor  that  fall  be  without  a  hurt,  and  that  hurt  proceed  unto  a  wound,  and  that  wound 
not  to  be  mortal,  but  even  next  to  it,  looks  like  an  artifice  and  contrivance  of  Providence  to  show  you  how  near  it 
could  go  without  cutting  through  that  slender  thread  of  life,  that  it  might  endear  to  you  its  accurate  superintendency 
over  your  life,  that  there  might  here  be  a  remarkable  juncture  in  that  thread,  and  that  whensoever  such  a  day  should 
revolve  in  the  circle  of  your  year,  it  might  come  again,  and  again,  with  a  note  upon  it  under  your  eye,  and  appear  ever 
to  you  as  another  birth-day,  or  as  an  earlier  day  of  resurrection. 

Whereupon,  my  honoured  Lord,  the  further  design  of  that  providence  is  to  be  thoroughly  studied,  and  pondered 
deeply.  For  it  shows  itself  to  be,  at  once,  both  merciful  and  wise,  and  as  upon  the  one  account  it  belonged  to  it  to 
design  kindly  to  you,  so,  upon  the  other,  to  form  its  design  aptly,  and  so  as  that  its  means  and  method  might  fitly  both 
serve  and  signify  its  end.  If  therefore  your  Lordship  shall  be  induced  to  reckon  the  counsel  acceptable  which  hath 
been  given  you  upon  this  occasion,  and  to  think  the  offering  yourself  to  God,  a  living  sacrifice,  under  the  endearing 
obligation  of  so  great  a  mercy  is,  indeed,  a  reasonable  service  ;  your  life  by  that  dedication  acquires  asacredness,  be- 
comes a  holy,  divine  life.  And  so  by  one  and  the  same  means  is  not  only  renewed  and  prolonged  in  the  same  kind  of 
natural  life,  but  is  also  heightened  and  improved  to  a  nobler  and  far  more  excellent  kind.  And  thus,  out  of  that 
umbrage  only  and  shadow  of  death,  which  sat  upon  one  day  of  your  time,  springs  a  double  birth  and  resurrection  to 
vou.  Whereby  (as  our  apostle  speaks  in  another  place  of  this  epistle)  you  come  to  yield  yourself  lo  God  as  one  alive 
Jrom  the  dead. 

So  your  new  year  (which  shortly  after  begins)  will  always  be  to  you  a  fresh  setting  forth  in  that  new  and  holy  course 
of  life,  which  shall  at  length  (and  God  grant  it  lo  be,  after  the  revolution  of  many  fruitful  years,  wherein  you  may 
continue  a  public  blessing  in  this  wretched  world)  end,  and  be  perfected  in  a  state  of  life  not  measured  by  time, 
wherein  you  are  to  be  ever  with  the  Lord.  Which  will  answer  the  design  of  that  merciful  providence  towards  you ; 
and  of  this  performance  (how  mean  soever)  of 

Your  Honour's  most  obedient, 

Humble  Servant, 

JOHN  HOWE. 

•  By  a  fall  from  a  horse,  Dec.  6, 1674. 


SELF-DEDICATION. 


ROM.  XII.  1. 

I  BESEECH  TOU  THEREFORE,  BRETHREN,  BY  THE    MERCIES  OF  GOD,  THAT  YE  PRESENT  YOUR  BODIES  A  LIVING  SACRIFICE, 
HOLY,  ACCEPTABLE  UNTO  GOD,  WHICH  IS  YOUR  REASONABLE  SERVICE. 


Two  things  are  more  especially  considerable  in  these 
words: — The  matter  of  the  exhortation,  that  we  would 
"  present  our  bodies  a  living  sacrifice,  holy,  acceptable  to 
God,  our  reasonable  service."  And  the  pathetic  form  of 
obtestation  that  is  used  to  enforce  it.  "  I  beseech  you  by 
the  mercies  of  God."  The  former  I  intend  for  the  princi- 
pal subject  of  the  following  discourse,  and  shall  only  make 
use  of  the  other  for  the  purpose  unto  which  the  holy  apostle 
doth  here  apply  it.  Our  business  therefore  must  be,  to 
show  the  import  of  this  exhortation.  In  the  doing  whereof 
we  ^h-.ili, 

1.   E.fplain  the  terms  wherein  the  text  delivers  if. 

■2.  Declare  more  distinctly  the  nature  of  the  thing  ex- 
pressed by  them. 

1.  For  the  terms.  By  bodies^  we  are  to  understand  our 
whole  selves,  expressed  here  (synecdochically)  by  the  name 
of  bodies  for  distinction's  sake.  It  having  been  wonted 
heretofore,  to  offer  in  sacrifice  the  bodies  of  beasts,  the 
apostle  lets  them  know  they  are  now  to  offer  up  their  own  : 
meaning,  yet,  their  whole  man,  as  some  of  those  following 
words  do  intim.ite;  and  agreeably  to  the  plain  meaning  of 
the  exhortation,  (1  Cor.  vi.  20.)'  "Glorify  God  in  your 
bodies  and  spirits,  which  are  his." 

Sacrifice  is  not  to  be  understood  in  this  place  in  a  more 
restrained  sense,  than  as  it  may  signify  whatsoever  is  by 
God's  own  appointment  dedicated  to  himself  According 
to  the  stricter  notion  of  a  sacrifice,  its  more  noted  general  ] 
distinction  (though  the  Jewish  be  variously  distributed  ■'')  is 
into  propitiatory,  and  gratulatory  oreucharistical.  Christ- 
ianity in  that  strict  sense,  admits  but  one,  and  that  of  the 
former  sort.  By  which  One  (ihat  of  himself)  our  Lord 
hath  perfected  for  ever  them  that  are  sanctified.  We  our- 
selves, or  any  service  of  ours,  are  only  capable  of  being 
sacrifices  by  way  of  analogy,  and  that  chiefly  to  the  other 
sort.  And  so  all  sincere  Christians  are  "  as  lively  stones, 
built  up  a  spiritual  house,  a  ho  y  priesthood,  to  offer  up 
spiritual  sacrifices,  acceptable  to  God  by  Jesus  Christ," 
(1  Pet.  ii.  5.)  being  both  temple,  priests,  and  sacrifices,  all 
at  once;  as  our  Lord  himself,  in  his  peculiar  sacrificing, 
also  was. 

In  the  addition  of  living,  the  design  is  carried  on  of 
speaking  both  by  way  of  allusion  and  opposition  to  the 
ritual  sacrificing.  By  way  of  allusion.  For  a  viorticiiium, 
any  thing  dead  of  itself,  the  Israelites  were  not  to  eat  thcm- 
selves,b  because  they  were  a  holy  people;  (though  tiiey 
might  give  it  to  a  stranger;)  much  more  had  it  been  detest- 
able, as  a  sacrifice  to  dod.  The  beast  must  be  brought 
alive  to  the  altar.  Whereas  then  we  are  also  to  offer  our 
bodies  a  living  sacrifice,  so  far  there  must  be  an  agreement. 
Yet,  also,  a  difference  seems  not  obscurely  suggested.  The 
victim  brought  alive  to  be  sacrificed,  was  yet  to  be  slain 
in  sacrificing :  but  here,  living  may  also  signify  continuing 
to  live.  You  {q.  d.)  may  be  sacrifices,  and  "yet  live  on. 
According  to  the  strict  notion  we  find  given  of  a  sacrifice,  it 
is  somewhat  to  be,  in  the  prescribed  way,  destroyed,  and 

a  See  Sigoniiu  de  Repub.  Heb.  Dr.  Outr.  de  Sacr.        b  Deut.  xiv.  21. 


that  must  perish  in  token  of  their  entire  devotedness  to 
God  who  offer  it.  When  we  offer  ourselves,"^  life  will  not 
be  touched  by  it,  or  at  all  impaired,  but  improved  and  en- 
nobled highly  by  having  a  sacredness  added  to  it.  Your 
bodies  are  to  be  offered  a  sacrifice,  but  an  unbloody  one. 
Such  as  you  have  no  cause  to  be  startled  at,  it  carries  no 
dread  with  it,  life  will  be  still  whole  in  you.  Which  shows 
by  the  way,  'tis  not  an  animate  bod)',  without  the  soul. 
But  the  bodily  life  is  but  alluded  to  and  supposed,  'tis  a 
higher  and  more  excellent  one,  that  is  meant ;  the  spiritual, 
divine  life,  as  ch.  vi.  13.  yield  yourselves  to  God,  as  those 
that  are  alive  from  the  dead.  And  v.  11.  shows  what  that 
being  alive  means,  "  Reckon  yourselves  to  be  dead  indeed 
unto  sin,  but  alive  unto  God  through  Jesus  Christ." 
Alive  by  a  life  which  means  God,  which  aims  at  him, 
terminates  in  him,  and  is  derived  to  you  through  Christ. 
As  he  also  speaks.  Gal.  ii.  19,  '20.  I  am  dead  to  the  law, 
that  I  might  live  to  God.  I  am  crucified  with  Christ. 
Nevertheless  I  live,  yet  not  I,  but  Christ  liveth  in  me, 
and  the  life  which  I  now  live  in  the  flesh,  I  live  by  the 
faith  of  the  Son  of  God,  who  loved  me,  and  gave  himsell 
for  me. 

Holy,  though  it  be  included  in  the  word  sacrifice,  is  not 
in  the  Greek  Ovaia,  and  was  therefore  added  without  veibal 
tautology.  And  there  were,  however,  no  real  one.  For 
there  is  a  holiness  that  stands  in  an  entire  rectitude  of 
heart  and  life,  by  which  we  are  conformed  in  both,  to  the 
nature  and  will  of  God,  besides  the  relative  one  which  re- 
dounds upon  any  person  or  thing  by  due  dedication  to 
him.  And  which  former  is  pre-required,  in  the  present 
sacrifice,  that  it  may  be,  as  it  follows. 

Acceptable  to  God,  not  as  though  thereby  it  became  ac- 
ceptable, but  as  that  without  which  it  is  not  so.  Yet  also 
holiness,  in  the  nature  of  the  thing,  cannot  but  be  grateful 
to  God,  or  well-pleasing,  (as  the  word  here  used  signifies,<i) 
but  not  so  as  to  reconcile  a  person  to  him,  who  was  before 
a  sinner,  and  hath  still  sin  in  him.  But  supposing  the 
state  of  such  a  person  first  made  and  continued  good,  that 
resemblance  of  himself  cannot  but  be  pleasing  in  the  eyes 
of  God,  but  fundamentally  and  statedly  in  and  for  Christ, 
as  1  Pet.  ii.  5.  (before  quoted.)  This  therefore  signifies, 
both  how  ready  God  is  to  be  well  pleased  with  such  a 
sacrifice,  and  also  signifies  the  quality  of  the  sacrifice  itself, 
that  it  is  apt  to  please. 

Reasonable  service,  or  worship,  as  the  word  signifies. 
This  is  also  spoken  accommodately,  to  the  notion  given 
before  of  offering  ourselves,  in  opposition  to  the  former 
victims  wherein  beasts  were  the  matter  of  the  sacrifice. 
Those  were  brute  sacrifices.  You  (q.  d.)  are  to  offer  rea- 
sonable ones.  And  it  signifies  our  minds  and  understand- 
ings the  seat  of  reason,  with  our  wills  and  affections  that 
are  to  be  governed  by  it,  must  all  be  ingredient  as  the 
matter  of  that  sacrifice;  implying  also  the  right  God  hath 
in  us,  whence  nothing  can  be  more  reasonable  than  to 
offer  ourselves  to  him. 


c  Cloppenburg.  Schol.  Sucrific.  and  otbets. 


d  tvapt^or 


414 


SELF-DEDICATION. 


Present,  that  is,  dedicate,  devote  yourselves,  set  your- 
selves bel'ore  God,  as  they  sistere  ad  allarc — pre&enl  at  the 
allo^r  the  destined  sacrifice,  make  them  stand  ready  lor  im- 
molation. You  are  so  to  make  a  tender  of  yourselves  as 
if  you  would  say,  "  Lord,  here  I  am,  wholly  thine.  I 
come  to  surrender  myself,  my  whole  life  and  being,  to  be 
entirely  and  always  at  thy  dispose,  and  for  thy  use.  Ac- 
cept a  devoted,  self-resigning  soul !"  Thus  we  are  brought 
to  the  thing  itself.     Which  now, 

2.  In  the  next  place  (with  less  regard  to  the  allusive 
terms)  we  come  more  distinctly  to  open  and  explain.  It 
is  briefly  but  the  dedicating  of  ourselves ;  or,  as  it  is  2  Cor. 
viii.  5.  the  giving  our  ownselves  to  the  Lord.  So  those 
Macedonian  converts  are  said  to  have  done.  And  there  is 
a  special  notice  to  be  taken  therein  of  the  v;oxAfirst,  which 
puts  a  remarkableness  upon  that  passage.  The  apostle  is 
commending  their  liberal  charity  towards  indigent,  neces- 
sitous Christians:  and  shows  how  their  charity  was  begun 
in  piety.  They  did  not  only  most  freely  give  away  their 
substance  for  the  relief  of  such  as  were  in  want,  but  first 
they  gave  their  ownselves  to  the  Lord. 

But  that  we  may  not  misconceive  the  nature  of  this  act, 
of  giving  ourselves,  we  must  know  it  is  not  donation  in 
the  strict  and  proper  sense,  such  as  confers  a  right  upon 
the  donee,  or  to  him  to  whom  a  thing  is  said  to  be  given. 
"We  cannot  be  said  to  collate,  or  transfer  a  right  to  him 
who  is  before  Dominus  alsolutus  ;  the  only  Proprietor  and 
Supreme  Lord  of  all.  It  is  more  properly  but  a  tradition, 
a  surrender  or  delivery  of  ourselves,  upon  the  supposal 
and  acknowledgment  of  his  former  right ;  or  the  putting 
ourselves  into  his  possession,  for  his  appointed  uses  and 
services,  out  of  which  we  had  injuriously  kept  ourselves 
before.  'Tis  but  giving  him  his  own,  (1  Chron.  xxix.  14.) 
"  All  things  come  of  thee,  and  of  thine  own  have  we  given 
thee."  It  is  only  a  consent,  and  obedience  to  his  most 
rightful  claim,  and  demand  of  us,  or  a  yielding  ourselves 
to  him,  as  it  is  significantly  expressed  in  the  mentioned  vi. 
to  the  Rom.  13.  Though  there  the  word  is  the  same  with 
that  in  the  text,  which  here  we  read  presents 

And  now  that  we  may  more  distinctly  open  the  nature 
of  this  self-dedication,  we  shall  show  what  ought  to  accom-' 
pany  and  qualify  it,  that  we  may  be  a  suitable  and  grateful 
present  to  him,  in  evangelical  acceptation,  worthy  of  God, 
such  as  he  requires  and  will  accept. 

1.  It  must  be  done  with  knowledge  and  understanding. 
It  cannot  but  be  an  intelligent  act.  'Tis  an  act  of  religion 
and  worship,  as  it  is  called  in  the  text.  Service  we  read 
it,  which  is  much  more  general,  but  the  word  is  Xnrpeia — 
worship.  'Tis  indeed  the  first  and  fundamental  act  of 
worship.  And  it  is  required  to  be  a  rational  act.  Your 
reasonable  service.  Religion  cannot  move  blindfold.  And 
though  knowledge  and  reason  are  not  throughout  words  of 
the  same  signification  and  latitude  ;  yet  the  former  is 
partly  presupposed  upon  the  latter,  and  partly  improved 
by  it,  nor  can  therefore  be  severed  from  it.  In  the  present 
case  it  is  especially  necessary  we  distinctly  know  and 
apprehend  the  state  of  things  between  God  and  us  :  that 
we  understand  ourselves  to  have  been  (with  the  rest  of 
men)  in  an  apostacy,  and  revolt  from  God,  that  we  are  re- 
called unto  him,  that  a  Mediator  is  appointed  on  purpose 
through  whom  we  are  to  approach  him,  and  render  our- 
seh^es  back  unto  liim :  that  so  this  may  be  our  sense  in 
our  return,  "Lord,  I  have  here  brought  thee  back  astray, 
a  wandering  creature,  mine  ownself.  I  have  heard  what 
the  Redeemer,  of  thy  own  constituting,  hath  done  and 
suffered  for  the  reconciling  and  reducing  of  such,  and, 
against  thy  known  design,  I  can  no  longer  withhold  myself." 

2.  With  serious  consideration.  It  must  be  a  deliberate 
act.  How  many  understand  matters  of  greatest  imj>ort- 
ance,  which  they  never  consider,  and  perish  by  not  con- 
sidering what  they  know  !  Consideration  is  nothing  else 
but  the  revolving  of  what  we  knew  before  :  the  actuating 
ihe  habitual  knowledge  we  have  of  things:  a  more  distinct 
reviewing  of  our  former  notices  belonging  to  any  case,  a 
recollecting  and  gathering  them  up,  a  comparing  them 
together:  and,  for  such  as  appear  more  momentous,  a 
repeating,  and  inculcating  them  upon  ourselves,  that  we 
may  be  urged  on  to  suitable  action.  And  this,  though  of 
itself  without  the  power  and  influence  of  the  Divine  Spirit, 

e  TTiipiTiyi,  ot  TTapi^avoi. 


is  not  sufficient,  yet  being  the  means  he  works  by,  is  most 
necessary  to  our  becoming  Christians,  i.  e.  if  we  speak  of 
becoming  so,  not  by  fate  or  by  chance,  as  too  many  only 
are,  but  by  our  own  choice  and  design :  which  is  the  same 
thing  with  dedicating  ourselves  to  God  through  Christ, 
whereof  we  are  discoursing.  For  upon  our  having  thus 
considered  and  comprehended  the  whole  compass  of  the 
case  in  our  thoughts,  either  the  temper  of  our  hearts  would 
be  such  that  we  would  hereupon  dedicate  ourselves  or  we 
would  not ;  if  we  would,  it  is  because  we  should  judge 
the  arguments  for  it  more  weighty  than  the  objections, 
which,  without  such  pondering  of  both,  we  are  not  likely 
to  apprehend,  and  so,  for  want  of  this  consideration,  are 
never  likely  to  become  Christians  at  all.  Or,  if  we  would 
not,  it  is  because  to  the  more  carnal  temper  of  our  hearts, 
the  objections  would  outweigh.  And  then,  if  we  do  seem 
to  consent,  it  is  because  what  is  to  be  objected  came  not 
in  view :  and  so  we  should  be  Christians  to  no  purpose. 
Our  contract  with  the  Redeemer  were  void  in  the  making, 
we  should  only  seem  pleased  with  the  terms  of  Christi- 
anity, because  we  have  not  digested  them  in  our  thoughts. 
So  our  act  undoes  itself  in  the  very  doing.  It  carries  an 
implicit,  virtual  repentance  in  it,  of  what  is  done.  We 
enter  ourselves  Christians,  upon  surprise  or  mistake.  And 
if  we  had  considered  what  we  are,  consequently,  to  do, 
what  to  forbear,  what  to  forego,  what  to  endure,  would 
not  have  done  it.  And  therefore  when  we  do  come  dis- 
tinctly to  apprehend  all  this,  are  like  actually  to  repent  and 
revolt.  As  they,  John  vi.  who,  while  they  imderstood  not 
what  it  was  to  be  a  Christian,  seemed  very  forward  follow- 
ers of  Christ.  But  when  they  did  more  fully  understand 
it,  upon  his  telling  them  plainly,  went  back  and  walked 
no  more  with  him.  And  he  lets  them  go;  q.  d.  "Mend 
yourselves  if  you  can;  see  where  you  can  get  a  better 
master." 

3.  With  a  determinate  judgment,  at  length,  that  this 
ought  to  be  done.  There  are  two  extremes  in  this  matter. 
Some  will  not  consider  at  all,  and  so  not  do  this  thing ; 
and  some  will  consider  always,  and  so  never  do  it.  Stand, 
Shall  1 1  Shall  1 1  Halt  between  two  opinions.  These 
are  both  of  them  very  vicious  and  faulty  extremes  in  re- 
ference to  the  management  even  of  secular  affairs,  both  of 
them  contrary  to  that  prudence  which  should  govern  our 
actions,  i.  e.  when  men  will  never  consider  what  is  neces- 
sary to  be  done,  and  so  neglect  their  most  important  con- 
cernments; or,  when  they  will  never  have  done  consider- 
ing, which  is  the  same  thing,  as  if  they  had  never  taken 
up  any  thought  of  the  matter  at  all.  Indeed,  in  the  pre- 
sent case,  'tis  a  reproach  to  the  blessed  God  to  consider 
longer,  than  till  we  have  well  digested  the  state  of  the  case. 
As  if  it  were  difficult  to  determine  the  matter  between 
him  and  the  devil,  v^hich  were  the  better  or  more  rightful 
Lord !  We  must  at  last  be  at  a  point,  and  come  to  a  judi- 
cious determination  of  the  question,  as  those  sincerely 
resolved  Christians  had  done,  (John  vi.  68,  69.)  who  also 
express  the  reasons  that  had  (before  that  time  no  doubt) 
determined  them :  "  Lord,  whither  shall  we  go  1  Thou 
hast  the  words  of  eternal  life.  And  we  believe,  and  are 
sure,  that  thou  art  that  Christ,  the  Son  of  the  living  God." 

4.  With  liberty  of  spirit,  having  thrown  off"  all  former 
bonds,  and  quite  disengaged  ourselves  from  other  mas- 
ters. As  they  speak,  Isa.  xxvi.  13.  "  Other  lords  besides 
thee  have  had  dominion  over  us,  but  by  thee  only  will  we 
make  mention  of  thy  name."  For  our  Saviour  expressly 
tells,  "  No  man  can  serve  two  masters,"  Matt.  vi.  24. 
When  those  Dedititii,  the  people  of  Collatia,f  were  about 
the  business  of  capitulating  in  order  to  the  surrender  of 
themselves,  the  question  put,  on  the  Romans'  part,  was, 
Estne  pnpuhis  CoUatiuus  in  sua  potentate — Are  the  Col- 
lati7ie  people  in  their  own  power  7  Wherein  satisfaction 
being  given,  the  matter  is  concluded.  In  the  present 
case  of  yielding  ourselves  to  God,  the  question  cannot 
be  concerning  any  previous  tie  in  the  point  of  right,  or 
that  could  urge  conscience.  There  cannot  be  so  much  as 
a  plausible  pretender  against  him.  But  there  must  be  a 
liberty,  in  opposition  to  pre-engaged  inclinations  and  affec- 
tions. And  this  must  be  the  sense  of  the  sincere  soul, 
entreating  the  matter  of  its  self-surrender,  and  dedication, 
with  the  great  God,  to  be  able  to  say  to  the  question,  Art 

f  Livius,  I.  1. 


SELF-DEDICATION. 


415 


thou  under  no  former  contrary  bonds  V  "  Lord,  I  am  imder 
none,  I  know,  that  ought  to  bind  me,  or  that  justly  can, 
against  thy  former  sovereign  right.  I  had  indeed  sufiered 
other  bonds  to  take  place  in  my  heart,  and  the  affections  of 
my  soul,  but  they  were  bonds  of  iniquity,  which  I  scruple 
not  to  break,  and  repent  that  ever  I  made.  1  took  myself 
indeed  to  be  my  own,  and  have  lived  to  myself,  only 
pleased  and  served  and  sought  myself  as  if  I  were  created 
and  born  for  no  other  purpose,  and  if  the  sense  of  my  heart 
had  been  put  into  words,  there  was  insolence  enough  to 
have  conceived  such  as  these;  not  my  tongue  only,  but  my 
whole  man,  body  and  soul,  all  my  parts  and  powers,  my 
estate  and  name,  and  strength,  and  time,  are  all  my  own ; 
who  is  Lord  over  me  1  And  while  I  pleased  self  with 
such  an  imagined  liberty  and  self-dominion,  no  idol  was 
too  despicable  to  command  my  homage.  I  have  done 
worse  than  prostrated  my  body  to  a  stock,  my  soul  hath 
humbled  itself,  and  bowed  down  to  a  clod  of  clay.  My 
thoughts  and  desires,  and  hopes  and  joys,  have  all  stooped 
to  so  mean  trifles,  as  wealth,  or  ease,  or  pleasure,  or  fame, 
all  but  so  many  fragments  of  earth,  or  (the  less  consistent) 
vapours  sprung  from  it.  And  whereas  this  world  is  no- 
Jiing  else  but  a  bundle  of  lusts,  none  of  them  was  too 
oase  to  rule  me.  And  while  I  thought  myself  at  liberty,  I 
nave  been  a  servant  to  corruption.  But  now,  Lord,  I  have 
through  thy  mercy  learned  to  abandon  and  abhor  myself. 
Thy  grace  appearing,  hath  taught  me  to  den}' ungodliness 
and  worldly  lusts.  Thou  hast  overcome;  enjo}'  thiue  own 
conquest.  I  am  grieved  for  it,  and  repent  from  my  soul 
that  ever  I  did  put  thee  to  contend  for  and  conquer  thine 
own."  And  so  doth  this  self-dedication  carry  in  it  repent- 
ance from  dead  works,  and  towards  God. 

5.  With  a  plenary  full  bent  of  heart  and  will.  As  that, 
"I  have  sworn,  and  will  perform,  that  I  will  keep  thy 
righteous  judgments,"  Psal.  cxix.  106.  Or  that,  "  I  have 
inclined  my  heart  to  keep  thy  statutes  always  unto  the 
end,"  V.  112.  And  herein  doth  this  self-dedicalion  more 
principally  consist,  viz.  in  a  resolved  willingness  to  yield 
myself,  as  God's  own  property,  to  be  for  him  and  not  for 
another.  Which  resolvedness  of  will,  though  it  may  in 
several  respects  admit  of  several  names,  or  be  clothed  with 
distinct  notions,  is  but  one  and  the  same  substantial  act.  It 
may  be  called,  in  respect  of  the  competition  which  there 
was  in  the  case,  choice:  or  in  respect  of  the  proposal  made 
tc  me  of  such  a  thing  to  be  done,  consent.  But  these  are, 
abstracting  from  these  references,  the  same  act,  which,  in 
itself  considered,  is  only  a  resolute  volition.  "  I  will  be 
the  Lord's."  Which  resolution,  if  one  do  (whether  meji- 
tally  or  vocally)  direct  to  God  or  Christ,  then  it  piUs  on 
the  nature  of  a  vow  ;  and  so  is  fitly  called  devoting  one's 
self. 

It  carries  in  it,  as  a  thing  supposed,  the  implanted  di- 
vine life  and  nature,  whereby  we  are  truly  said  to  present 
ourselves  living  sacrifices,  as  in  the  text,  or  as  it  is  expressed 
in  that  other  place,  chap.  vi.  13.  "  To  yield  ourselves  to 
God,  as  those  that  are  alive  from  the  dead  ;  (as  v.  11.) 
alive  to  God  through  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord."  Which  life 
is  not  to  be  understood  simply,  but  in  a  certain  respect. 
For  before,  we  were  not  dead" simply,  we  were  not  dead, 
disinclined,  or  disaffected  to  every  thing,  but  peculiarly 
towards  God  and  his  Christ.  That  M'ay  we  were  without 
any  inclination,  motion,  tendency,  or  disposition.  And  so 
were  dead  quoad  hoc — as  to  this  thing,  or  in  this  respect ; 
were  alienated  from  the  life  of  God.  Now  we  come  to  live 
this  life,  and  are  made  by  his  grace  to  incline  and  move 
towards  him,  of  our  own  accord.  Dead  things  (or  desti- 
tute of  life)  may  be  moved  by  another,  are  capable  of  be- 
ing rnoved  violently,  without  or  against  inclination,  hither 
or  thither.  But  a  living  creature  can  spontaneously  move 
itself,  as  of  its  own  accord  it  inclines. 

And  whereas  there  are  two  more  noble  principles,  that 
belong  to  this  divine  life  and  nature,  faith  and  love ;  (a 
great  and  noted  pair,  as  may  be  seen  in  divers  places  of 
the  New  Testament;)  these  have  both  an  ingrediency  into 
this  self-dedication.  The  nature  of  each  of  them  runs  into 
it,  and  may  be  perceived  in  it.  And  it  is  hereupon  a 
mixed  act,  partaking  an  influence  and  tincture,  as  it  were, 
from  the  one  and  the  other  of  them. 

Faith  respects  the  promises  of  God,  and  what  we  are 

g  2  Tim.  i.  12. 


thereupon  to  expect  from  him.  And  so  our  dedicating  our- 
selves to  God,  is  a  .self-committing.  We  give  up  ourselves 
to  him  as  a  tru.st,  as  the  apostle's  emphatical  expression 
intimates,  "  I  know  whom  I  have  believed,  and  I  am  per- 
suaded that  he  will  keep  that  which  I  have  committed  unto 
him,"  vapaKaraOiiKriv  /it — mij  pav'n  or  pledge,  ray  fidci  com- 
missum  against  that  day.e  The  soul  flies  to  God  as  in  a 
distress,  not  knowing  to  be  safe  another  way.  As  once  a 
people,  not  able  to  obtain  tutelage  on  other  terms,  surren- 
dered themselves  to  them  whose  help  ihey  sought,  with 
some  such  expression.  Si  non  nostras,  saltern  vestros — If  not 
as  ours,  yet  at  least  as  your  oivn,  save,  protect,  and  defend 
us.  Nor,  in  our  surrendering  ourselves  to  God,  is  this  any 
way  unsuitable  either  to  us  or  to  him.  Not  to  us  ;  for  we 
are  really  distressed,  ready  to  perish ;  'tis  agreeable  to  the 
state  of  our  case.  Not  to  him;  for  it  is  glorious  to  him  ; 
a  thing  worthy  of  God  to  be  a  refuge  and  sanctuary  to 
perishing  souls;  and  is  thereupon  a  pleasant  thing,  a  God- 
like pleasure,  suitable  to  a  self-sufficient  and  all-sufficient 
Being,  who  hath  enough  for  himself  and  for  all  others, 
whom  he  shall  have  taught  not  to  despise  the  riches  of  his 
goodness.  He  "  taketh  pleasure  in  them  that  fear  him, 
and  them  that  hope  in  his  mercy,"  Psal.  cxlvii.  11.  He 
waits  that  he  may  be  gracious,  and  is  exalted  in  showing 
mercy,  Isa.  xxx.  18.  He  lifts  up  him,self  when  he  does  it, 
and  waits  that  he  ma}';  expects  the  opportunity,  seeks  out 
meet  and  suitable  objects,  (as  with  thirst  and  appetite,  an 
enterprising,  valiant  man  is  wont  to  do  encounters,  for 
none  were  ever  so  intent  to  destroy,  as  he  is  to  save.)  yea, 
makes  them,  prepares  them  lor  his  purpose.  "Which  he 
doth  not,  and  needs  not  do,  in  point  of  misery,  so  the}*  can 
enough  prepare  themselves  ;  but  in  point  of  humility,  sense 
of  their  necessity  and  unworthiness,  great  need,  and  no 
desert,  nor  disposition  to  supplicate.  These  are  needful 
preparations,  make  it  decorous  and  comely  to  him  to  show 
mercy.  A  God  is  to  be  sought,  with  humble,  piostrate 
veneration.  And  such  an  opportunity  he  waits  for.  'Tis 
not  fit  for  him,  not  great,  not  majestic,  to  throw  away  his 
mercies  upon  insolent  and  insensible  wretches :  for,  as 
there  it  follows,  he  is  the  God  of  judgment,  a  most  accu- 
rate, judicious  wisdom  and  prudence  conducts  and  guides 
all  the  emanations  of  his  flowing  goodness.  The  part  ol 
which  wisdom  and  judgment  is  to  nick  the  opportunity,  to 
take  the  fit  season  when  mercy  will  be  most  fitly  placed, 
best  attain  its  end,  relish  best,  be  most  acceptable  to  them 
that  shall  receive  it,  and  honourable  to  him  that  shows  it. 
And  therefore  (as  is  added)  "blessed  are  they  that  wait 
for  him,"  that  labour  to  be  in  a  posture  to  meet  him  on  his 
own  terms  and  in  his  own  way. 

Let  such  as  have  a  mind  to  surrender  and  yield  them- 
selves to  him  consider  this.  Apprehend  you  have  undone 
yourselves,  and  are  lost.  Fall  before  him.  Lie  at  the 
foot-stool  of  the  mercy-seat.  Willingly  put  your  mouths 
in  the  dust,  if  so  be  there  may  he  hope.  And  there  is  hope. 
He  seeks  after  you,  and  will  not  reject  what  he  seeks;  he 
only  waited  to  bring  you  to  this.  'Tis  new  a  fit  time  for 
him,  and  a  good  time  for  you.  And  you  may  now,  in  re- 
signing, intrust  yourselves  also  to  him ;  for  his  express 
promise  is  your  sufficient  ground  for  it.  "  I  will  receive 
you,  and  be  a  Father  to  you.  and  ye  shall  be  my  sons  and 
daughters. "h  Understand  the  matter  aright ;  your  pre- 
senting and  yielding  yourselves  to  him  is  not  to  be  a  des- 
perate act.  'Tis  not  casting  yourselves  away.  You  are 
not  throwing  yourselves  into  flames,  but  upon  tender 
mercies,  thither  you  may  commit  yourself.  The  thing 
that  is  pleasing  to  him,  and  which  he  invites  you  to,  (as 
he  invites  all  the  ends  of  the  earth  to  look  to  him  that 
they  may  be  saved,*)  cannot  be  unsafe,  or  unhappy  to 
you. 

Again,  love  hath  a  great  ingrediency  into  this  self-resig- 
nation. And  as  it  hath,  so  it  more  admits  to  be  called 
dedicating,  or  devoting  ourselves.  This  holy,  ingenuous 
principle  respects  more  the  commands  of  God,  as  the  other 
doth  his  promises,  and  eyes  his  interest,  as  the  other  doth 
our  own.  This  dedication  of  ourselves,  as  it  i.=;  influenced 
by  it,  designs  the  doing  all  for  him  we  can,  a-s  by  the  other 
it  doth  the  recei\'ing  all.  As  by  the  other  we  resign  our- 
selves to  him  for  safety  and  felicity;  so  we  do  by ^his  for 
service  and  duty  to  our  uttermost.  And  an  ardent  lover 
h  2  Cor.  \i.  18.  i  Ua.  .\Iv.  22, 


41G 


SELF-DEDICATION. 


of  God  thinks  this  a  little  oblation.  Myself!  alas  !  What 
am  1 1  Too  small  a  thing  for  him  who  is  all  love,  and 
who,  though  he  hath  it  in  hand  to  transform  and  turn  me 
into  love  too,  such  as  so  drossy  and  limited  a  thing  was 
capable  of  being  made,  how  mean  yet,  and  little,  is  the 
subject  he  hath  to  work  upon !  An  atom  of  dust !  Not 
combustible,  or  apt  to  be  wrought  upon  to  this  (to  a  divine 
and  heavenly  love)  by  any,  but  his  flame.  And  now  there- 
fore but  a  minute  spark  from  the  element  of  love,  that 
must,  however,  thus  transformed,  tend  towards  its  own 
original  and  native  seat !  It  shall  now  flame  upward.  And 
this  is  all  the  flame,  in  which  it  is  universally  necessary, 
thy  sacrifice  should  ascend ;  which  will  refine  only,  not 
consume  it.  Though,  that  it  may  be  otfered  up  in  other 
flames,  is  not  impossible;  nor  will  it  be  much  regretted  by 
you ;  if  the  case  should  so  require,  nor  shall  be  despised 
by  him,  if  he  shall  so  state  the  case.  To  give  the  body  to 
be  burned,  without  love,  goes  for  nothing  ;  but  if,  in  that 
■way,  we  were  called  to  offer  up  our  bodies  living  sacrifi- 
ces to  God,  it  would  (in  an  inferior  sense)  be  an  offering 
of  a  sweet-smelling  savour,  would  even  perfume  heaven, 
and  diffuse  fragrant  odours  on  earth  :  nor  would  be  grudged 
at  by  that  love  that  first  made  our  'o\6K\r,poi',  the  7chole  of 
ourselves,  an  offering  to  God  ;  and  whose  properly  it  is  to 
be  all  things,  to  do  all  things,  to  bear  all  things,  to  endure 
all  things  for  him,  whose  we  wholly  are.  So  that  if  he 
design  any  of  us  to  be  an  &Xok«i>s-w//a  too,  a  ifh/de  burnt- 
offering,  and  will  have  to  glorify  him  in  the  fire,  love  will 
not  retract  its  vow,  but  say,  after  our  great  Pattern,  "  Not 
my  will,  but  thine  be  done:"  and  as  he,  in  his  peculiar 
case  and  design,  (not  communicable  with  us,  though  the 
temper  of  spirit  should  be,)  "  Lo,  I  come  to  do  thy  will,  O 
God !  A  body  hast  thou  (it  now  appears  for  this  very  pur- 
pose) prepared  for  me." — "  He  loved  us,  and  gave  himself 
for  us."  So  are  we,  from  our  love  of  him,  to  give  ourselves 
for  him,  and  his  use  and  service,  in  whatsoever  kind  he 
shall  appoint  and  prescribe.  Every  true  Christian  is,  in 
the  preparation  of  his  mind,  a  martyr;  but  they  are  few 
whom  he  actually  calls  to  it.  Our  love  is  ordinarily  to 
show  itself  in  our  keeping  his  commandments  ;  and  with 
that  design  we  are  to  present  ourselves  to  him,  as  the  re- 
solved, ready  insrruments  of  his  service  and  praise :  as 
Rom.  vi.  13.  "Neither  yield  ye  your  members  as  instru- 
ments of  unrighteousness  unto  sin  ;  but  yield  yourselves 
unto  God  as  those  that  are  alive  from  the  dead,  and  your 
members  as  instruments  of  righteousness  unto  God." 
Thus  having  been  more  large  upon  what  was  more  essen- 
tial in  this  dedication  of  ourselves,  I  shall  be  briefer  in 
most  of  the  other  things  belonging  to  it. 

6.  It  must  further  be  done  with  a  concomitant  accept- 
ance of  God.  His  covenant  (which  is  now  entered)  is 
oftentimes  summed  up,  "  I  will  be  your  God,  and  j'ou 
shall  be  my  people  :"  and  is  resembled  and  frequently  re- 
presented by  the  nuptial  contract,  in  which  there  is  mu- 
tual giving  and  taking.  We  are  to  resign  and  accept  at 
the  same  time  :  to  take  him  to  be  our  God,  when  we  yield 
ourselves  to  be  his. 

7.  With  an  explicit  reverence  to  the  Lord  Christ.  We 
are  to  dedicate  ourselves,  after  the  tenor  of  a  covenant 
whereof  he  is  the  Mediator.  God  doth  not  upon  other 
terms  treat  with  sinners.  You  are  not  to  offer  at  such  a 
thing  as  dedicating  yourselves  to  him,  but  in  the  way  and 
npon  the  terms  upon  which  you  are  to  be  accepted.  The 
Divine  pleasure  is  declared  and  known,  how  great  a  one 
He  must  be  in  all  the  transactions  of  God  with  men ;  yea, 
and  towards  the  whole  creation,  Eph.  i.  6,  7,  8,  9,  10. 
"  He  hath  made  us  accepted  in  the  beloved  :  in  whom  we 
have  redemption  through  his  blood,  the  forgiveness  of  sins, 
according  to  the  riches  of  his  grace ;  wherein  he  hath 
abounded  towards  us  in  all  wisdom  and  prudence  ;  having 
made  known  unto  us  the  mystery  of  his  will,  according  to 
his  good  pleasure,  which  he  had  purposed  in  himself; 
that,  in  the  dispensation  of  the  fulness  of  times,  he  might 
gather  together  in  one  all  things  in  Christ,  both  which  are 
in  heaven,  and  which  are  on  earth,  even  in  him."  We 
must  take  heed  how  we  neglect  or  overlook  Him  who  i^ 
by  Divine  appointment  so  high  in  power,  and  with  whom 
we  have  so  great  a  concern. 

8.  With  deep  humility  and  abasement  of  ourselves,  in 

k  Outr.  de  Sac. 


conjunction  with  a  profound  reverence  and  veneration  of 
the  Divine  Majesty.  There  ought  to  be  the  lowliest  self- 
abasement,  such  as  that  good  man  expresses,  Ezra  ix.  6. 
(varied  to  one's  own  case,)  "  O  my  God,  I  am  ashamed, 
and  blush  to  lift  up  my  face  to  thee,  my  God  :  for  mine  in- 
iquities are  increased  over  mine  head,  and  my  trespass  is 
grown  up  imto  the  heavens."  And  indeed  this  is  natu- 
rally consequent  upon  what  was  last  said,  of  the  regard 
that  ought  to  be  had  in  this  matter  to  the  Mediator ;  for 
surely  that  very  constitution  is  in  itself  an  humbling  thing 
to  us;  and  we  cannot  apply  ourselves  to  God  suitably  to 
it,  but  with  a  self-abasing  sense  of  our  own  state  and  case. 
Our  coming  and  tendering  ourselves  to  God  in  a  Media- 
tor, is  in  its  very  nature  an  humiliation,  and  carries  with 
it  a  tacit  confession,  that  in  ourselves  we  have  nothing, 
deserve  nothing,  are  nothing,  are  worse  than  nothing;  and 
that  only  this  constitution  of  his  could  justify  our  offering 
ourselves  to  him,  with  any  hope  of  acceptance  ;  or  make 
it  less  than  an  insolent  presumption,  for  sinners  to  ap- 
proach him,  and  expect  to  be  received  into  his  presence 
and  service.  It  is  not  for  such  as  we,  to  behave  ourselves 
towards  him  as  if  we  either  had  not  offended,  or  were  ca- 
pable of  expiating  our  own  offence.  Yea,  and  if  there  had 
been  nothing  of  delinquency  in  the  case;  yet  great  humil- 
ity becomes  such  applications  to  him,  and  that  in  conjunc- 
tion with  the  profoundest  reverence  and  veneration  of 
him  ;  for  our  very  business  in  this  self-dedicalion,  is  wor- 
ship, as  the  word  in  the  text  hath  been  noted  to  signify. 
And  it  is  the  first  and  most  principal  part  of  all  the  wor- 
ship we  owe  to  him,  (as  was  noted  from  2  Cor.  viii.  5.) 
fundamental  to  all  the  rest.  We  must  havebetbre  our  eyes 
the  awful  majesty  and  glorious  greatness  of  God ;  which 
Scripture  often  speaks  of,  as  one  notionoi  his  holiness,  and 
which  we  are  to  have  principal  reference  unto  in  all  the 
solemn  homage  we  pay  to  him;  k  as  sacrifices  are  well  ob- 
served to  have  been  offered  to  him  so  considered.  And 
therefore,  by  this  consideration,  their  suitableness  to  him 
is  to  be  measured,  as  he  doth  himself  insist,  Mai.  i.  14. 
"  Cursed  be  the  deceiver,  which  hath  in  his  flock  a  male, 
and  voweth,  and  sacrificeth  unto  the  Lord  a  corrupt  thing ; 
for  I  am  a  great  King,  saith  the  Lord  of  hosts,  and  my 
name  is  dreadful  among  the  heathen." 

9.  With  great  joy  and  gladness  of  heart.  It  ought  to 
be  accompanied  with  the  hiiihest  gusts  and  relishes  of 
pleasure,  both  from  the  apprehensive  congruity  of  the 
thing,  and  the  expectation  we  have  of  acceptance.  The 
thing  itself  .should  be  pleasant  to  us.  We  are  to  do  it  as 
tasting  our  own  act,  as  they  did,  1  Chron.  xxix.  9.  "  The 
people  rejoiced,  for  that  they  offered  willingly."  The  self- 
devoting  person  should  be  able  to  utter  this  as  his  sense, 
"  Glad  am  I,  that  I  am  any  thing,  that  I  have  a  being,  a 
soul,  a  reasonable  intelligent  being,  capable  of  becoming 
a  sacrifice  to  him."  And  that  there  is  hope  of  being  ac- 
cepted :  how  great  a  joy  is  that !  The  apostle  makes  so 
great  a  thing  "of  it,  that  he  speaks  (2  Cor.  v.  8,  9.)  as  if  he 
cared  not  whether  he  was  in  the  body,  or  out  of  the  body, 
so  he  might  be  accepted.  Nuptials  (that  resemble,  as  hath 
been  said,  this  transaction  between  God  and  the  soul, 
wherein  there  is  mutual  giving  and  accepting)  are  wont 
to  be  seasons  of  great  festivity  and  gladness.  The  great 
God  himself  rejoices  in  this  closure,  with  such  a  joy,  (Isa. 
Ixii.  5.  As  a  bridegroom  rejoiceth  over  his  bride,  so  will 
thy  God  rejoice  over  thee,)  and  shall  not  we  1  How  infi- 
nitely more  amiable  and  delectable  is  the  object  our  choice 
than^is  .'  when  we  are  to  rejoice  in  the  supreme  and  most 
perfect  excellency  ;  He,  in  what  is  clothed  over  (if  he  did 
not  super-induce  another  clothing)  with  most  loathsome 
deformity. 

10.  With  an  ingenuous  candour  and  simplicity,  with 
that  sincerity  which  is  to  be  as  the  salt  of  our  sacrifice: 
(Mark  ix.)  without  latent  reserves,  or  a  hidden  meaning, 
disagreeing  to  his;  which  were  both  unjust  and  vain.  Un- 
just ;  for  we  may  not  deceive  any.  And  vain ;  for  we 
cannot  deceive  him.  The  case  admits  not  of  restrictions, 
it  must  be  done  absolutely,  without  any  limitation  or  re- 
serve. You  have  heard  this  self-dedication  is,  in  part,  an 
act  of  love.  And  what  limit  can  be  set  to  a  love,  whose 
object  is  infinite  1  A  natural  limit,  'tis  true,  as  it  is  the 
love  of  a  creature,  it  cannot  but  have ;  but  a  chosen  one 


SELF-DEDICATION. 


4i: 


it  ought  never  to  have,  as  if  we  had  loved  enough .  You 
know  what  kind  of  love  is  (and  cannot  but  be)  due  to  the 
all-comprehending  God.  With  all  thy  heart,  soul,  mind, 
and  might,  &c.  So  without  exception,  that  Maimonides,' 
reciting  those  words,  adds,  etiamsi  tollat  animavi  tuwin. 
The  stream  of  thy  love  to  him  must  not  be  diverted,  or 
alter  course,  t/iough  he  would  take  away  thy  very  life,  or 
soul. 

11.  "With  the  concomitant  surrender  to  him  of  all  that 
we  have.  For  they  that,  by  their  own  act  and  acknow- 
.edgment,  are  not  themselves  their  own,  but  devoted,  mu.st 
also  acknowledge  they  are  owners  of  nothing  else.  In 
that  mentioned  form  of  surrender  in  Livy,  when  Egerius, 
on  the  Roman's  part,  had  inquired,"'  Are  you  the  ambas- 
sadors sent  by  the  people  of  Collatia  that  you  may  yield  up 
yourselves  and  the  Collatine  people  1  and  it  was  answered. 
We  are  :  and  it  was  again  asked,  Are  the  Collatine  people 
in  their  power  ?  and  answered.  They  are  :  it  is  further  in- 
quired. Do  you  deliver  up  yourselves,  the  people  of  Collatia, 
your  city,  ymir  fields,  your  water,  your  bounds,  your  temples, 
your  utensils,  all  things  that  are  yours,  both  divine  and  hu- 
man, into  mine,  and  the  people  of  Rome's  povjer  ?  They  sa}^, 
We  deliver  up  all.  And  he  "answers,  So  I  receive  you. 
So  do  they  who  deliver  up  themselves  to  God,  much  more, 
all  that  they  called  theirs.  God  indeed  is  the  only  Pro- 
prietor, men  are  but  usufructuaries.  They  have  the  use 
of  what  his  providence  allots  them;  He  reserves  to  him- 
self the  property  ;  and  limits  the  use  so  far,  as  that  all  are 
to  be  accountable  to  him  for  all  they  possess ;  and  are  to 
use  nothing  they  have,  but  as  under  him  and  for  him,  as 
also  they  are  to  do  themselves.  Therefore  as  they  are  re- 
quired to  "  glorify  him  with  their  bodies  and  spirits,  which 
are  his,"  so  they  are  to  "  honour  him  with  their  substance," 
upon  the  same  reason.  But  few  effectually  apprehend  his 
right  in  their  persons ;  which  as  we  are  therefore  to  re- 
cognise in  this  dedication  of  ourselves  to  him,  so  we  are, 
in  a  like  general  sense,  to  devote  to  him  all  that  we  enjoy 
in  the  world.  That  is,  as  all  are  not  to  devote  themselves 
specially  to  serve  him  in  a  sacred  office,  but  all  are  obliged 
to  devote  themselves  to  his  service  in  the  general ;  so  though 
all  are  not  required  to  devote  their  estates  to  this  or  that 
particular  pious  use,  they  are  obliged  to  use  them  wholly 
for  his  glory  in  the  general,  and  for  the  service  of  his  in- 
terest in  the  world.  We  are  obliged  neither  to  withhold 
from  him,  nor  mispend,  these  his  mercies ;  but  must  "  live 
righteously,"  (wherein  charity  is  comprehended,)  "sober- 
ly, and  godly"  in  it ;  decline  no  opportunities  that  shall 
occur  to  us  (within  the  compass  of  our  own  sphere  and 
station)  of  doing  him  (though  never  so  costly  and  hazard- 
ous) service;  must  forsake  all  and  follow  him,  when  our 
duty,  and  our  continued  possessions  of  this  world's  goods, 
come  to  be  inconsistent ;  must  submit  patiently  to  our  lot, 
when  that  falls  out  to  be  our  case,  or  to  any  providence  by 
which  we  are  bereaved  of  our  worldly  comforts,  with  that 
temper  of  mind,  as  to  be  able  cheerfully  to  say,  "  The  Lord 
hath  given,  the  Lord  hath  taken  away,  blessed  be  the  name 
of  the  Lord." 

It  is  indeed  the  greatest  absurdity  imaginable,  that  they 
who  are  not  masters  of  themselves,  should  think  it  per- 
mitted them,  to  use  what  comes  to  their  hands,  as  they 
list ;  for  the  service  of  their  own  lusts,  and  the  gratifying 
of  a  rebel  flesh,  that  hath  rejected  the  government  of  iheir 
own  reason,  and  of  all  divine  laws  at  once ;  or  that  he  who 
hath  so  absolute  a  right  in  them,  should  not  have  that 
right  in  what  he  hath  committed  to  them,  as  to  prescribe 
rules  to  them,  b}'-  which  to  use  and  employ  it.  At  the 
same  time,  and  in  the  same  sense,  wherein  we  make  a  de- 
dition  of  ourselves,  we  do  the  same  thing  as  to  all  that  we 
have.  Even  according  to  common,  human  estimate,  ac- 
cording to  what  interest  men  have  in  others,  or  power 
over  them,  Ihej'  have  a  correspondent  interest  in  what  they 
possess.  They  that  absolutely  surrender  themselves  to  the 
power  of  another,  leave  not  themselves  capable  of  proper 
dominion  as  to  any  thing.  Therefore  says  the  civil  law, 
Non  lifM  dedititiis  testamenta  facere.  They  were  so  under 
several  notions,  it  is  true  ;  but  they  that  were  strictly  so, 
had  not  power  to  make  a  will,  as  having  nothing  to  dispose 

1  De  fund,  lesis.  p.  64. 

m  Esti.sne  vns  kgatj  oml'iresqiie  mi<isi  a  populo  Collatino.  lit  vos  populum- 
que  CoUatinum  dcderitis?  Suinus. Deditisne  vos,  populum  CoUatumni,  ui- 


of  No  man  has  certainly  a  power  to  dispose  of  any  thing 
(and  when  they  surrender  themselves  by  their  own  act 
and  deed  to  God,  they  acknowledge  so  much)  otherwise 
than  as  Divine  rules  director  permit.  They  have  a  right 
in  what  is  duly  theirs,  against  the  counter-claim  of  man, 
but  none,  sure,  against  the  claim  and  all-disposing  power 
of  God,  whether  signified  by  his  law  or  by  his  providence. 
Therefore  with  this  temper  of  mind  should  this  self-dedi- 
cation be  made :  "  Lord,  I  here  lay  myself  and  all  that 
belongs  to  me,  most  entirely  at  thy  feet.  All  things  are 
of  thee  :"  (as  they  are  brought  in  saying,  who  make  that 
willing,  joyful  offering,  1  Chron.  xxix.)  "What  I  have 
in  the  world  is  more  thine  than  mine.  I  desire  neither 
to  use  nor  possess  any  thing,  but  by  thy  leave  and  for  thy 
sake." 

12.  With  befitting  circumstantial  solemnity,  i.  e.  it 
ought  to  be  direct,  express,  and  explicit ;  not  to  be  hud- 
dled up  in  tacit,  mute  intimations  only.  We  should  not 
content  ourselves  that  it  be  no  more  than  implied,  in  what 
we  do  otherwise,  and  run  on  with  if  as  a  thing  that  must 
be  supposed,  and  taken  for  granted,  never  actually  per- 
formed and  done.  It  is  very  true  indeed,  that  a  continued, 
uniform  course  and  series  of  agreeable  actions,  a  holy  life 
and  practice,  carries  a  great  deal  more  of  significancy  with 
it,  than  only  having  once  said,  without  this  conceptis  verlns, 
"  Lord,  I  Avill  be  thine."  Practice,  whether  it  be  good  or 
bad,  more  fully  speaks  our  sense,  and  expresses  our  hearts, 
than  bare  words  spoken  at  some  particular  time,  can  do, 
for  they  at  the  most  speak  but  our  pre.sent  sense  at  that 
time,  and  perhaps  do  not  always  that ;  but  a  course  of 
practice  shows  the  habitual  posture  and  steady  bent  of  our 
spirits.  Nor  do  I  think  that  a  formal,  explicit  transaction, 
in  this  matter,  whether  vocal  or  mental,  with  circumstan- 
tial solemnity,  is  essential  to  a  man's  being  a  Christian,  or 
a  holy  man.  A  fixed  inclination  and  bent  of  heart  towards 
God,  followed  (as  it  -will  be)  with  a  course  of  practice  be- 
coming them  that  are  his,  will  no  doubt  conclude  a  man's 
state  lo  be  safe  and  good  God-ward ;  as  one  may,  on  the 
other  hand,  be  the  devil's  .servant  all  his  days,  without 
having  made  a  formal  covenant  with  him.  But  yet,  though 
so  explicit  and  solemn  a  transaction  of  this  matter  be  not 
essential  to  our  Christianity,  (as  what  is  said  to  belong 
onlv  to  the  solemnity  of  any  thing,  is  therein  implied  not 
to  be  of  the  essence  of  it,)'yet  it  may  be  a  great  duly  for 
all  that,  and  I  doubt  it  not  to  be  so. 

And  it  may  here  be  worth  the  while,  to  insist  a  little ; 
that  if  this  indeed  be  a  duty,  it  may  obtain  more  in  our 
practice,  than  perhaps  it  doth.  Some,  through  mere  inad- 
vertencv,  mav  not  have  considered  it ;  others,  that  have, 
may  possibly' think  it  less  needful,  because  they  reckon  it 
was  formerly  done  for  them.  They  were  born  of  Christian 
parents,  who  dedicated  them  to  God  from  their  birth  ;  and 
they  were,  with  solemnity,  presented  to  him  in  their  bap- 
tism. What  need  we  then  do  over  again  a  thing  already 
done "?  Let  us  reason  this  matter  therefore  awhile,  and 
consider  \vhether,  notwiths  anding  any  such  allegation, 
our  personal  dedicating  ourselves  to  God  in  Christ  be  not 
still  reasonable  and  necessary  lobe  performed  by  ourselves 
also,  as  our  own  solemn  act  and  deed  ?  It  were  indeed 
much  to  be  wished  that  our  baptismal  dedication  to  God 
were  more  minded  and  thought  on  than  it  commonly  is ; 
when  with  such  sacred  solemnity  we  were  devoted  to  the 
triune  Deity,  and  those  great  and  awful  names  were  named 
upon  us,  the  name  of  the  Father,  the  name  of  the  Son,  and 
the  name  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  Baptisms  are,  it  is  to  be 
feared,  too  often  in  the  Christian  world  turned  into  a  mere 
pageantry,  and  the  matter  scarce  ever  thought  on  more, 
when  the  show  is  over ;  and  very  probably  because  this 
great  succedaneous  duty  is  so  unpractised  among  Christ- 
ians. 

And  first,  let  it  be  considered.  Are  there  no  like  cases  '\ 
Do  we  not  know,  that  though  all  the  infants  in  a  kingdom 
are  born  subjects,  vet  when  they  arrive  to  a  certain  age 
they  are  obliged,  being  called,  to  take  the  oath  of  allegi- 
ance, and  each  one  to  come  under  personal  obligation  to 
their  prince  1  And  do  we  owe  less  to  the  God  that  made 
us,  and  the  Lord  that  bought  us  with  his  blood  1 

bem.  n^ros,  aqiiain.  terminog,  delubra.  ntcnsilia  divina.  liumanaque  omnia, 
in  meain  populiqne  Romaiji  diiionem  ?  Dcdimus.    Al  ego  rccjpio,    Liv.  ubi 

prills. 


418 


SELF-DEDICATION. 


Again,  Though  all  the  sons  of  Israelites  were  in  their 
infanc)'  dedicated  to  God  by  the  then  appointed  rite  for  that 
purpose,  yet  how  frequent  were  their  solemn,  personal  re- 
cognitions of  his  covenant;  their  avouching  themselves  to 
be  his  people,  as  he  also  avouched  himself  to  be  their 
God :  which  we  see  Deut.  xxvi.  and  in  many  other  places. 
It  is  remote  from  me  to  intend  the  pressing  of  a  covenant 
that  contains  any  disputable  or  doubtful  matters,  or  any 
other  than  the  substance  of  our  baptismal  covenant  itself, 
consisting  of  the  known  essentials  of  our  Christianity,  all 
summed  up  in  taking  God  in  Christ  for  our  God,  and  re- 
signing ourselves  to  him  to  be  inviolably  his  :  no  more  is 
meant  than  that  this  may  be  done  as  our  own  reasonable 
service  and  worship;  as  our  intelligent,  deliberate,  judi- 
cious act  and  choice. 

And  consider  further,  to  this  purpose,  the  great  im- 
portance of  the  thing  itself,  compared  with  the  lesser  con- 
cernments wherein  we  use  to  deal  most  explicitly.  Is  it 
fit  that  a  man's  religion  should  be  less  the  matter  of  his 
solemn  choice,  than  his  inferior  concerns  1  that  when  he 
chooses  his  dwelling,  his  calling,  his  servant,  or  master, 
he  should  seem  thrown  upon  his  God  arid  his  religion  by 
chance  1  and  that  least  should  appear  of  caution,  care, 
and  punctual  dealing,  in  our  very  greatest  concernment  1 
How  great  a  day  in  a  man's  life  doth  he  count  his  mar- 
riage-day!  How  accurate  are  men  wont  to  be,  in  all  the 
preparations  and  previous  settlements  that  are  to  be  made 
in  order  to  it !  And  since  the  great  God  is  pleased  to  be 
so  very  particular  with  us,  in  proposing  the  model  and 
contents  of  his  covenant,  the  promises  and  precepts  which 
make  his  part  and  ours  in  it ;  how  attentive  should  we  be 
to  his  proposals,  and  how  express  in  our  consent !  espe- 
cially, when  we  consider  his  admirable  condescension  in 
it,  that  he  is  pleased  (and  disdains  not)  to  capitulate  with 
the  work  of  his  hands,  to  article  with  dust  and  ashes. 
Is  it  reasonable  we  should  be  slight  and  superficial  in  a 
treaty  with  that  great  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth,  or  scarce 
ever  purposely  apply  and  set  ourselves  to  mind  him  in 
it  at  all  1 

JVIoreover  it  is  your  mon  concernment,  and  therefore 
ought  to  be  transacted  by  yourself.  So  far  as  there  is  any 
equity  in  that  rule,  Quod  tang'it  omnes  debet  ab  onmib^ls 
tractari —  What  concerns  all  should  be  transacted  by  all,  it 
resolves  into  this,  and  supposes  it,  Ctuod  tangit  meipsum 
debet  tractari  a  meipso — That  ivhich  concerns  myself  should 
be  transacted  by  myself. 

Again,  your  being  devoted  by  parents,  no  more  excuses 
from  solemn,  personal,  self-devoting,  than  their  doing  other 
acts  of  religion  for  you,  excuses  you  from  doing  them  for 
yourselves.  They  have  prayed  for  you  ;  are  you  therefore 
never  to  pray  for  yourselves"  ?  They  have  lamented  your 
sin ;  are  yon  never  therefore  to  lament  your  own  1 

Further,  Scripture  warns  us  not  to  lay  too  much  stress 
upon  parental  privilege,  or  place  too  much  confidence  in 
it,  which  it  supposes  men  over  apt  to  do.  Matt.  iii.  7,  8,  '.). 
Abraham's  seed  may  be  a  generation  of  vipers.  John  viii. 
37,  44.  I  know  you  are  Abraham's  seed,  yet  he  finds 
them  another  father. 

Consider,  moreover,  the  renewing  work  of  God's  grace 
and  Spirit  upon  souls,  consists  in  sanctifying  their  natural 
faculties,  their  understandings,  consciences,  wills,  affec- 
tions. And  what  are  these  sanctified  for,  but  to  be  used 
and  exercised  1  And  to  what  more  noble  purpose  1  If  there 
be  that  holy  impress  upon  the  soul,  that  inclines  all  the 
powers  of  it  God-ward,  what  serves  if  for,  but  to  prompt 
and  lead  it  on  to  the  correspondent  acts?  to  apprehend 
and  eye  God,  to  admit  a  conviction  of  duty,  and  particu- 
larly, how  I  owe  myself  to  him;  to  choose,  love,  fear,  and 
serve  him;  and  what  doth  all  this  import  less,  than  an 
entire  self-resignation  to  him  1  So  that  the  genuine  ten- 
dency of  the  holy  new  nature  is  in  nothing  so  directly 
answered  and  satisfied  as  in  this.  And  it  ought  to  be  con- 
sidered, that  the  faculties  of  our  reasonable  souls  have  a 
natural  improvement  and  perfection,  as  well  as  a  gracious. 
And  for  their  highest  and  noblest  acts,  'tis  fit  they  should 
be  used  in  their  highest  perfection.  'Tis  possible",  that  in 
the  children  of  religious  parents,  there  rnav  be  some  pious 
inclinations  betimes ;  and  the  sooner  they  thereupon  choose 
the  God  of  their  fathers,  the  better,  i.  e.  if  you  compare 
n  Cal.  L«x.  Jurid.  o  i  John  iv.  20. 


doing  it  and  not  doing  it,  'tis  better  done,  than  not  done. 
But  because  this  is  a  thing  that  cannot  be  too  often  done 
nor  too  well ;  the  more  mature  your  understanding  is,  the 
better  it  will  be  done,  the  grace  of  God  concurring.  Our 
Lord  himself  increased  in  wisdom,  &c. 

Moreover,  let  it  be  seriously  thought  on  (what  'tis 
dreadful  to  think)  the  occasion  you  should  give,  if  you  de- 
cline this  surrendering  yourselves,  to  have  3'our  neglect 
taken  for  a  refusal.  'Tis  impossible,  when  j^ou  once  un- 
derstand the  case,  you  can  be  in  an  indifferency  about  it. 
You  must  either  take,  or  leave. 

Nor  can  it  be  denied  but  personal  self-devoting,  one 
way  or  other,  (more  or  less  solemn,)  is  most  necessary  to 
the  continuing  serious  Christianity  in  the  world.  With- 
out it,  our  religion  were  but  res  unius  (ztatis — the  business 
of  an  age:  for  how  unlikely  were  it,  and  absurd  to  sup- 
pose, that  a  man  should  seriously  devote  his  child  to  God, 
that  never  devoted  himself?  And  if  that  were  done  never 
so  seriously,  must  one  be  a  Christian  always,  only  by  the 
Christianity  of  another,  not  his  own  1  Some  way  or  other 
then,  a  man  must  devote  himself  to  God  in  Christ,  or  be, 
at  length,  no  Christian.  And  since  he  must,  the  nature  of 
the  thing  speaks,  that  the  more  solemn  and  express  it  is, 
I  he  better,  and  more  suitable  to  a  transaction  with  so  great 
a  Majesty. 

And  hath  not  common  reason  taught  the  world  to  fix  a 
transitus,  and  settle  some  time  or  other,  wherein  persons 
should  have  been  reckoned  to  have  past  out  of  their  state 
of  infancy  or  minority,  into  the  state  of  manhood  or  an 
adult  state;  wherein,  though  before  they  could  not  legally 
transact  affairs  for  themselves,  yet  afterwards  they  could? 
This  time,  by  the  constitutions  of  several  nations,  and  for 
several  purposes,  hath  been  diversely  fixed.  But  they 
were  not  to  be  looked  upon  as  children  always.  Some 
time  they  come  to  write  man.  Is  it  reasonable  one  should 
be  a  child,  and  a  minor  in  the  things  of  God  and  religion, 
all  his  days!  always  in  nonage?  Some  time  they  must 
be  men  in  understanding,  (1  Cor.  xiv.  20.)  and  have  their 
senses  exercised  to  discern  between  good  and  evil,  Heb. 
V.  14. 

Yea,  and  there  is  far  greater  reason  we  should  personal- 
ly and  solemnly  transact  this  great  affair  with  God,  than 
any  concern  we  have  with  men.  For,  among  men  we 
may  have  a  right  by  natural  descent,  or  by  valuable  consi- 
derations, to  what  we  enjoy,  which  may  be  clear  and  little 
liable  to  question  :  from  God  we  hav^e  no  right,  but  by  his 
favour  and  vouchsafement.  You  are  his  children,  if  ever 
you  come  to  be  so,  but  by  adoption.  And  human  adop- 
tion has  been  wont  to  be  completed  by  a  solemnity  ;  the 
person  to  adopt,  being  publicly  asked  (in  that  sort  of 
adoption  which  was  also  called  arrogation)  utrum  eum 
queni  adoptaturus  esset,  justnm  sibi  flium  esse  vellet — whe- 
ther he  would  have  this  person  to  be  as  his  own  very  son  ? 
And  again  ;  ille  qui  adoptabatur — utruvi  id  fieri  pateretur — 
he  that  was  to  be  adopted,  whether  he  was  eo^iteuied  it  should 
be  .";/>  ?" 

Nor  again  is  there  that  disinclination  towards  men,  as 
towards  God,  or  that  proneness  to  revolt  from  settled 
agreements,  with  the  one,  as  with  the  other.  Whereas 
love  sums  up  all  the  duty  of  both  the  tables ;  or  which 
we  owe  both  to  God  and  man ;  it  is  evident  that,  in  our 
present  lapsed  state,  our  love  to  God  is  more  impaired, 
than  to  man.  Indeed  this  latter  seems  only  diminished, 
the  other  is  destroyed,  and  hath,  by  nature,  noplace  in  us; 
grace  only  restores  it.  Where  it  is  in  some  measure  re- 
stored, we  find  it  more  difficult  to  exercise  love  towards 
God,  than  man  ;  which  the  apostle's  reasoning  implies, 
"  He  that  loveth  not  his  brother  whom  he  hath  seen,  how 
can  he  love  God  whom  he  hath  not  seen  ?""  Who  sees 
not  that  sensuality  hath  buried  the  rational  world  !  Unre- 
generate  man  is  said  to  be  in  the  flesh,  not  as  being  only 
lodged  in  it,  as  all  are  alike,  but  governed  by  it,  under  its 
power  :  as  the  holy  apostle  is  said  to  have  been  in  the 
Spirit  on  the  Lord's  day.?  To  be  in  the  flesh  is  expound- 
ed by  being  and  walking  after  h.'i  Hence  men  only  love 
and  savour  the  things  within  this  sensible  sphere.  They 
that  are  after  the  flesh,  do  only  savour  the  things  of  the 
flesh.  Where  the  regenerate,  divine  life  is  implanted,  it 
doth  7nale  hahitarc — is  ill  lodged,  in  conjunction  with  .1 
p  Rev.  L  q  Rom.  viii. 


SELF-DEDICATION. 


419 


strong  remaining  sensual  inclination ;  so  that  where  the 
soul  is  somewhat  raised  by  it,  out  of  that  mire  and  dirt, 
there  is  a  continual  decidency,  a  proneness  to  relapse,  and 
sink  back  into  it.  Impressions  therefore  of  an  invisible 
Ruler  and  Lord  (as  of  all  unseen  things)  are  very  evanid  ; 
soon,  in  a  great  degree  worn  oft";  especially  where  they 
were  but  in  making,  and  not  yet  thoroughly  inwrought 
into  the  temper  of  the  soul.  Hence  is  that  instability  in 
the  covenant  of  God.  We  are  not  so  afraid  belbre,  nor 
ashamed  afterwards,  of  breaking  engagements  with  him, 
as  with  men,  whom  we  are  often  to  look  in  the  face,  and 
converse  with  every  day. 

Therefore  there  is  the  more  need  here  of  the  strictest 
ties,  and  most  solemn  obligations,  that  we  can  lay  upon 
ourselves.  How  apprehensive  doth  that  holy,  excellent 
governor,  Joshua,  ^  seem  of  this,  when  he  was  shortly  to 
leave  the  people  under  his  conduct !  And  what  urgent 
means  doth  he  use,  to  bring  them  to  the  most  express,  so- 
lemn dedication  of  themselves  to  God,  that  was  possible  ; 
first  representing  the  reasonableness  and  equity  of  the 
thing,  from  the  many  endearing  w^onders  of  mercy  (as  here 
the  apostle  beseeches  these  Romans  by  the  mercies  of  God) 
which  he  recounts  from  the  beginning,  to  the  14th  verse 
of  that  24ih  chapter:  then,  thereupon,  exhorting  them  to 
"fear  the  Lord  and  serve  him  insincerity,"  &c.  in  that 
14rth  verse,  telling  them,  withal,  if  they  should  all  resolve 
otherwise  to  a  man,  what  his  ovm  resolution  was,  {v.  15.) 
"  And  if  it  seem  evil  unto  you  to  serve  the  Lord,  choose 
you  this  day  whom  ye  will  serve  ;  whether  the  gods  which 
your  fathers  served,  that  were  on  the  other  side  of  the 
flood,  or  the  gods  of  the  Amorites,  in  whose  land  j'e  dwell : 
but  as  for  me  and  my  house,  we  will  serve  the  Lord  :" 
taking  also  their  express  answer,  which  they  give,  v.  16, 
17,  18.  But  fearing  they  did  not  enough  consider  the 
matter,  he,  as  it  were,  puts  them  back  (esteeming  himself 
to  have  gotten  an  advantage  upon  them)  that  they  might 
come  on  again  with  the  more  vigour  and  force.  "Ye  can- 
not serve  the  Lord  :  for  he  is  a  holy  God ;  he  is  a  jealous 
God ;  he  will  not  forgive  your  transgressions  nor  your 
sins.  If  you  forsake  the  Loi:\,  and  serve  strange  gods,  then 
he  will  turn  and  do  you  hurt,  and  consume  you,  after  he 
hath  done  you  good,"  v.  19,  20.  Hereupon,  according  to 
his  expectation  and  design,  they  reinforce  their  vow, 
"  Nay,  but  we  M'ill  serve  the  Lord."  And  upon  this,  he 
closes  with  them,  and  takes  fast  hold  of  them,  "Ye  are 
witnesses"  (saith  he)  "  against  yourselves,  that  ye  have 
chosen  the  Lord  to  serve  him."  And  they  say,  "  We  are 
witnesses,"  v.  22.  He  exhorts  them  afresh,  and  they  en- 
gage over  again,  v.  23,  24.  Thus  a  covenant  is  made 
with  them,  v.  25.  After  all  this,  a  record  is  taken  of  the 
whole  transaction  ;  'tis  looked  down,  {v.  26.)  and  a  monu- 
mental stone  set  up,  to  preserve  the  memory  of  this  great 
transaction.  And  the  good  man  tells  them,  "Behold,  this 
stone  shall  be  a  witness  unto  us;  for  it  hath  heard  all  the 
words  of  the  Lord  which  he  spake  unto  us :  it  shall  there- 
fore be  a  witness  unto  you,  lest  ye  deny  your  God."  So 
he  dismisses  them,  and  lets  them  go  every  one  to  his  inhe- 
ritance. 

Nor  is  it  to  be  neglected  that,  Isa.  xliv.  5.  (which  is  ge- 
nerally agreed  to  refer  to  the  times  of  the  gospel)  it  isso 
expressly  set  down,  "One  shall  say,  I  am  the  Lord's;  and 
another  shall  call  himself  by  the  name  of  Jacob  ;  and  an- 
other shall  subscribe  with  his  hand  unto  the  Lord,  and 
surname  himself  by  the  name  of  Israel."  In  the  rendering 
of  which  words,  "subscribe  with  the  hand"  the  versions 
vary.  Some  read  inscribe  in  their  hands,  the  Lord's  name  ; 
counting  it  an  allusion  to  the  ancient  custom,  as  to  ser- 
vants and  soldiers,  that  they  were  to  carry,  stamped  upon 
the  palm  of  their  hands,  the  name  of  their  master  or  gene- 
ral. The  Syriac  read  to  the  same  sense  as  we — Shall  sive 
an  hand-writing  to  be  the  Lord's.  That  the  thinjrhe  done, 
and  with  great  seriousness,  distinctness,  and  solemnity,  is 
no  doubt  highly  reasonable  and  necessary  ;  about  the  par- 
ticular manner  I  prescribe  not. 

Nor  can  I  imagine  what  any  man  can  have  to  object, 
but  the  backwardness  of  his  own  heart  to  any  intercourse 
or  conversation  with  the  invisible  God  :  which  is  but  an 
argument  of  the  miserable  condition  of  depraved  mankind; 
none,  that  the  thing  is  not  to  be  done.  For,  that  back- 
r  Josh.  xxiv.  s  Rc«d  considerately,  Heb.  xf.  6. 


wardness  must  proceed  from  some  deeper  reason  than  that 
God  is  invisible  :  a  reason,  that  should  not  only  convince, 
but  amaze  us,  and  even  overwhelm  our  souls  in  sorrow 
and  lamentation,  to  think  what  state  the  nature  and  spirit 
of  man  is  brought  into  !  For  is  not  the  devil  invisible  too  1 
And  what  wretch  is  there  so  silly  and  ignorant,  but  can 
by  the  urgency  of  discontent,  envy,  and  an  appetite  of  re- 
venge, find  a  way  to  fall  into  a  league  with  him  1  Is  this, 
that  God  is  less  conversable  with  men  1  less  willing  to  be 
found  of  them  that  seek  Him  1  No  surely,  »  but  that  men 
have  less  mind  and  inclination  to  seek'  Him  !  And  is 
this  a  posture  and  temper  of  spirit  towards  the  God  that 
made  us,  (the  continual  spring  of  our  life  and  being!)  in 
which  it  is  fit  for  us  to  tolerate  ourselves?  Shall  not  the 
necessity  of  this  thing,  and  of  our  own  case,  (not  capable 
of  remedy  while  we  withhold  ourselves  from  God,)  over- 
come all  the  imagined  difficultv  in  applying  ourselves  to 
Himl 

Use.  And  upon  the  whole,  if  we  agree  the  thing  itself 
to  be  necessary,  it  cannot  be  doubted,  but  it  will  appear  to 
be  of  common  concernment  to  us  all :  and  that  every  one 
must  apprehend  it  is  necessary  to  me,  and  to  me,  whether 
we  have  done  it  already,  or  not  done  it.  If  we  have  not, 
it  cannot  be  done  too  soon;  if  we  have,  it  cann«t  be  done 
too  often.  And  it  may  now  be  done,  by  private,  silent 
ejaculation,  the  convinced,  persuaded  heart  saying  within 
itself,  "Lord,  I  consent  to  be  wholly  thine,  I  here  resign 
and  devote  myself  absolutely  and  entirely  to  thee."  None 
of  you  know  what  maybe  in  the  heart  of  another,  to  this 
purpose,  even  at  this  time.  Why  then  should  not  every 
one  fear  to  be  the  only  person  of  those  who  now  hear,  that 
disagrees  to  it"?  If  any  finds  his  heart  to  reluctate  and 
draw  back,  'tis  fit  such  a  one  should  consider,  "  I  do  not 
know  but  this  self-devoting  di.«position  and  resolution  is 
the  common  sense  of  all  the  rest,  even  of  all  that  are  now 
present,  but  mine."  And  who  would  not  dread  to  be  the 
only  one  in  an  assembly,  that  shall  refuse  God  !  or  refuse 
himself  to  him  !  For,  let  such  a  one  think,  "  What  partic- 
ular reason  can  I  have  toexclude  myself  I'rom  su(,^  a  con- 
senting chorus  1  Why  should  I  spoil  the  harmoPiV,  and 
give  a  disagreeing  vote  "?  Why  should  anv  man  be  more 
willing  to  be  dutiful  and  happy  than  11  to  be  just  to  God, 
or  have  him  good  tomel  Why  should  an}^  one  be  more 
willing  to  be  saved  than  I;  and  to  make  one  hereafter,  in 
the  glorious,  innumerable,  joyful  assembly  of  devoted  an- 
gels and  saints,  that  pay  an  eternal,  gladsome  homage  to 
the  throne  of  the  celestial  Kingl"  But  if  any  find  their 
hearts  inclining,  let  what  is  now  begun,  be  more  fully  com- 
pleted in  the  closet ;  and  let  those  walls  (as  Joshua's  stone) 
hear,  and  bear  witness ! 

Lest  any  should  not  consent,  and  that  all  may  consent 
more  freely,  and  more  largely;  I  shall  in  a  iew  words 
show — what  should  induce  to  it, — and  what  it  should  in- 
duce. 

1.  What  should  induce  to  itl  You  have  divers  sorts  of 
inducements. 

Such  as  may  be  taken  from  necessity.  For  what  else 
can  you  do  with  yourself!  You  cannot  be  happy  without 
it,  for  who  would  make  you  so  but  God  1  and  how  shall 
he,  M'hile  you  hold  off  yourselves  from  him  "?  You  cannot 
but  be  miserable,  not  only  as  not  having  engaged  him  to 
j'ou,  but  as  having  engaged  him  against  vou. 

Such  as  may  be  taken  from  equity.  You  are  his  right. 
He  hath  a  natural  right  in  you  as  he  is  your  Maker,  the 
Author  of  your  being  :  and  an  acquired  right  as  you  were' 
bought  by  his  Son,  who  hath  redeemed  us  to  God,  and 
who  died,  rose  again,  and  revived,  that  he  might  be  Lord 
of  the  living  and  the  dead,  here,  to  rule,  hereafter,  to  judge 
us.  Both  which  he  can  do  whether  we  will  or  no:  but  'tis 
not  to  be  thoirs-ht  he  will  snvc  us  against  our  wills.  His 
method  is,  whom  he  saves,  first  to  overcome,  i.  e.  to  make 
them  "  willing  in  the  day  of  his  power."  And  dare  we, 
who  "  live,  move,  and  have  our  being  in  him,"  refuse  to 
be,  \We,  and  move  to  him  1  or  "  denv  the  Lord  who  bought 

US'?" 

And  again.  Such  as  may  be  taken  from  ingenuiiy,  or 

that  should  work  iipon  it,  viz.  (what  we  are  besought  by, 

in  the  text,)  "  The  mercies  of  God."     How  manifold  are 

they!    But  they  are  the  mercies  of  the  go.-^pel  especMly, 

t  Rev.  V.  9. 


420 


SELF-DEDICATION. 


mentioned  in  the  foregoing  chapter,  which  are  thus  re- 
ferred unto  in  the  beginning  of  this,  the  transferring  what 
the  Jews  forfeited  and  lost,  by  their  unbelief,  unto  us  Gen- 
tiles; that  "  mystery"  (as  this  apostle  elsewhere  calls  it, 
Eph.  iii.  4,  5,  6.)  "which  in  other  ages  was  not  made 
known  unto  the  sons  of  men,  as  it  is  now  revealed  unto  his 
holy  apostles  and  prophets  by  the  Spirit ;  that  the  Gentiles 
should  be  fellow-heirs,  and  of  the  same  body,  and  parta- 
kers of  his  promise  in  Christ,  by  the  gospel."  In  refer- 
ence whereto  he  so  admiringly  cries  out  a  little  above  the 
text,  {ch.  xi.33.)  fi  /^da.f,  "O  the  depth  both  of  the  wisdom 
and  knowledge  of  God  !  How  unsearchable  are  his  judg- 
ments, and  his  ways  past  finding  out!"  The  mercies  of 
which  it  is  said,  Isa.  Iv.  1,  2,  3.  "  Ho,  every  one  that 
thirsieth,  come  to  the  waters,  and  he  that  hath  no  money ; 
come  ye,  buy  and  eat :  yea,  come,  buy  wine  and  milk  with- 
out money,  and  without  price.  Wherefore  do  ye  spend 
your  money  for  that  which  is  not  bread,  and  your  labour 
for  that  which  satisfieth  not'!  Hearken  diligently  unto 
me,  and  eat  ye  that  which  is  good,  and  let  your  soul  de- 
light itself  in  fatness.  Incline  your  ear,  and  come  unto 
me:  hear,  and  your  soul  shall  live:  and  I  will  make  an 
everlasting  covenant  with  you,  even  the  sare  mercies  of 
David."  •Which  free  and  sure  mercies  are  heightened, 
as  to  us,  by  the  same  both  endearing  and  awful  circum- 
siance,  that  these  mercies  are  offered  to  us,  viz.  in  con- 
junction with  the  setting  before  our  eyes  the  monitory,  tre- 
mendous example  of  a  forsaken  nation  that  rejected  them, 
intimated  v.  5.  "  Behold,  thou  shalt  call  a  nation  that  thou 
knowest  not;  and  nations  that  know  not  thee  shall  run 
unto  thee:"  a  case  whereof  our  apostle  says,  "  in  the  fore- 
going chapter,  Esaias  was  very  bold  ;  when  speaking  of  it 
in  another  place,  *  he  uses  these  words,  "  I  am  sought  of 
them  that  asked  not  for  me;  I  am  found  of  them  that 
sought  me  not :  I  said,  Behold  me,  behold  me,  unto  a  na- 
tion that  was  not  called  by  my  name."  He  was  bold  in 
it  indeed,  to  mention  .such  a  thing  to  a  people,  unto  whom 
a  jealous  gloriation  in  the  peculiarity  of  the  privileged 
state,  their  being  without  partners  or  rivals,  for  so  long  a 
lime,  in  their  relation  and  nearness  to  God,  was  grown  so 
natural :  and  who  took  it  so  impatiently,  when  our  Sa- 
viour did  but  intimate  the  same  thing  to  them  by  parables, 
as  that  they  sought  immediately  "  to  lay  hands  on  him  for 
that  very  reason.  So  unaccountable  a  perverseness  of  hu- 
mour reigned  with  them,  that  they  envied  to  others  what 
they  despised  themselves. 

But  on  the  other  hand,  nothing  ought  more  highly  to 
recommend  those  mercies  to  us,  or  more  engage  us  to  ac- 
cept them  with  gratitude,  and  improve  them  with  a  cau- 
tious fear  of  committing  a  like  forfeiture,  than  to  have 
them  brought  to  our  hands,  redeemed  from  the  contempt 
of  the  former  despisers  of  them;  and  that,  so  terribly,  vin- 
dicated upon  them  at  the  same  time;  as  it  also  still  conti- 
nues to  be.  That  the  natural  branches  of  the  olive  should 
be  toi  n  off,  and  we  inserted  :  that  there  should  be  such  an 
instance  given  us  of  the  severity  and  goodness  of  God.  To 
ythem  that  fell,  severity  ;  but  to  us,  goodness,  if  we  con- 
tinue in  his  goodness,  to  warn  us  that,  otherwise,  we  may 
expect  to  be  cut  off  too!  and  that  we  might  apprehend,  if 
he  spared  not  the  natural  branches,  he  was  as  little  likely 
to  spare  us !  That  when  he  came  to  his  own  and  they  re- 
ceived him  not,  he  should  make  so  free  an  offer  to  us, 
that  if  we  would  yet  receive  him  (which  if  we  do,  we  are, 
as  hath  been  said,  to  yield  up  and  dedicate  ourselves  to 
him  at  the  same  time)  we  should  have  the  privilege  to  be 
owned  for  the  sons  of  God !  What  should  so  oblige  us  to 
compliance  with  him,  and  make  us  with  an  ingenuous 
trembling  fall  before  him,  and  (crying  to  him,  My  Lord 
and  my  God)  resign  ourselves  wholly  to  his  power  and 
pleasure  1 

And  even  his  mercies  more  abstractly  considered 
ought  to  have  that  power  upon  us.  Were  we  not  lostl  Are 
we  not  rescued  from  a  necessity  of  perishing,  and  being 
lost  for  ever,  iti  the  most  costly  way  7  costly  to  our  Re- 
deemer, but  tons,  without  cost.  Is  it  a  small  thing,  that 
he  offers  himself  to  us  as  he  doth  when  he  demands  us, 
and  requires  that  we  offer  ourselves  to  him?  that  he,  in 
whom  is  all  the  fulness  of  God,  having  first  offered  himself 


for  us,  doth  now  offer  himself  also  to  us  %  that  he  hath 
treated  us,  hitherto,  with  such  indulgence,  waited  on  us 
with  so  long  patience,  sustained  us  by  so  large  bounty  1 
And  now  u}  on  all,  when  it  might  be  thought  we  should  be 
communing  with  our  own  hearts,  discoursing  the  matter 
with  ourselves,  "What  shall  we  render"?"  that  he  should 
say  to  us  so  shortly  and  compendiously.  Render  yourselves, 
Is  that  too  muchi  Are  we  too  inconsiderable  to  be  his,  or 
his  mercies  too  inconsiderable  to  oblige  us  tabe  sol  the 
mercies  that  flow  so  freely  from  him,  for  he  is  the  Father 
of  mercies:  the  mercies  that  are  so  suitable  to  us  ;  pardon 
to  the  guilty,  light  to  them  that  dwell  in  darkness,  life  to 
the  dead,  a  rich  portion  and  all-sufficient  fulness  for  the 
poor,  indigent,  and  necessitous  :  the  mercies  that  we  are 
encouraged  to  expect  as  well  as  what  we  enjoy  :  the  great 
good  laid  up  in  store  !  the  mercies  of  eternity  to  be  added 
to  thiise  of  time:  the  mercies  of  both  worlds,  meeting  upon 
us  !  that  here,  we  are  to  keep  ourselves  in  the  love  of 
God,  waiting  for  the  mercy  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  unto 
eternal  life  !^  that,  looking  for  that  blessed  hope,  our  life 
may  here,  in  the  mean  time,  be  transacted  with  him,  that 
we  may  abide  in  the  secret  of  his  presence,  and  dwelling 
in  love,  may  dwell  in  God  who  is  love ;  till  the  season 
come,  when  we  shall  be  able  more  fully  to  imderstand  his 
love,  and  return  our  own  I 

Nor  are  the  favours  of  his  providence  to  be  thought  lit- 
tle of  in  the  time  of  our  earthly  pilgrimage.  And  now, 
if  all  this  do  effectually  induce  us  thus  to  dedicate  our- 
selves, 

2.  We  are  next  to  consider  what  our  having  done  it 
ought  further  to  induce  us  unto. 

In  tlie  general,  it  ought  to  be  an  inducement  to  us  (as 
we  may  well  apprehend)  to  behave  ourselves  answerahly 
to  such  a  state,  as  w'e  are  hereby  brought  into,  if  we  now 
first  dedicated  ourselves  to  him,  and  are  confirmed  in,  by 
our  iterations  of  it.  For  he  takes  no  pleasure  in  fools, 
therefore  having  vowed  ourselves  to  him,  to  serve,  and  live 
to  him,  let  us  pay  what  we  have  vowed.  Better  it  had 
been  not  to  vow,  than  to  vow  and  not  pay  ;  and  instead  of 
the  reasonable  sacrifice  he  required  of  us,  to  give  him 
only  the  sacrifice  of  fools.  We  are,  upon  special  terms, 
and  for  special  ends,  peculiar  to  the  most  high  God.  They 
that  are  thus  his,  are  "  a  royal  priesthood,"  He  hath  made 
us  kings  and  priests."  But  those  offices  and  dignities  have 
sometime  met  in  the  same  person.  And  to  God  and  his 
Father,  i.  e.  for  him.  Not  that  both  those  ofiiccs  do  ter- 
minate upon  God,  or  that  the  work  of  both  is  to  be  per- 
formed towards  him  ;  but  our  Lcrd  Jesus,  it  being  the  de- 
sign of  his  Father  we  should  be  brought  into  that  high  and 
honourable  station,  hath  effected  it,  in  compliance  with 
his  design,  and  hath  served  his  pleasure  and  purpose  in 
it.  Hehath  done  it  to,  i.  e.  for,  him.  So  that,  to  God 
and  his  Father  may  be  referred  to  Christ's  action,  in 
making  us  kings  and  priests,  not  to  ours,  being  made  such. 
Yet  the  one  of  these  refers  to  God  immediately,  the  other 
to  ourselves.  Holy  and  good  men  are  kings  in  reference 
to  themselves,  in  re.spect  of  their  self-dominion  into  which 
they  are  now  restored,  having  been,  as  all  unregenerate 
persons  are,  slaves  to  vile  and  carnal  affections  and  incli- 
nations. The  minds  of  the  regenerate  are  made  spiritual, 
and  now  with  Ihem  the  refined,  rectified,  spiritual  mind,  is 
enthroned ;  lift  up  into  its  proper  authority  over  all  sensual 
inclinations,  appetitions,  lusts,  and  passions.  A  glorious 
empire !  founded  in  conquest,  and  managed  afterwards, 
when  the  victory  is  complete,  (and  in  the  mean  time,  in 
some  degree,  while  "judgment  is  in  bringing  forth  unto 
victory,")  by  a  steady,  sedate  government  in  most  perfect 
tranquillity  and  peace. 

But  they  are  priests  in  reference  to  God ;  the  business  of 
their  office,  as  such,  terminates  upon  him;  for  him  they 
worship  and  serve.  Worship  is  either  social,  external  ann 
circumstantial,  that  of  worshipping  societies,  considered 
according  to  its  exterior  part.  Herein  one  is  appointed  by 
special  office  to  do  the  part  of  a  priest  for  the  rest.  In  this 
sense  all  are  not  priests.  Or  else  it  is  solitary,  internal, 
substantial  and  spiritual,  wherein  they  either  worship  alone, 
and  apart  by  themselves,  or  being  in  conjunction  with 
others,  yet  their  own  spirits  within  them  work  directly, 


u  Rora.  X.  20. 


\T  l8a.  \xy.  1. 


xMaU.  xxi.  45,M. 


y  Chap,  xi. 


7  Jude  21. 


a  Rev.  i.  6. 


SELF-DEDICATION. 


421 


and  aspire  upwards  to  God.  And  as  to  this  more  noble 
part  of  their  worship,  every  holy  man  is  his  own  priest. 

And  this  is  the  double  dignity  of  every  holy,  devoted 
soul.  They  are  thus  kings,  and  priests;  govern  themselves, 
and  serve  God.  While  they  govern,  they  serve :  exercise 
authority  over  themselves,  with  most  submiss  veaeration 
of  God:  crowned,  and  enthroned;  but  always  in  a  readi- 
ness to  cast  down  their  crowns  at  the  footstool  of  the  su- 
preme, celestial  throne.  Into  this  state  they  come  by  self- 
dedication.  And  now  surely,  it  is  not  for  such  to  demean 
themselves  at  a  vulgar  rate.  They  are  of  the  eKxXn'^ia  npcj- 
rordKioi — t/ie  b  churcK  of  the  first-born  written  in  heaven  ; 
I.  e.  the  church  of  the  "first-born  ones ;  that  is,  all  composed 
and  made  up  of  such;  (as  that  expression  signifies;) 
first-born,  in  a  true  (though  not  the  most  eminent)  sense, 
being  sons  by  the  first,  i.  e.  the  prime  and  more  excellent 
sort  of  birth,  in  respect  whereof  they  are  said  to  be  >=  be- 
gotten again  by  the  word  of  truth,  that  they  should  be  a 
kind  of  first-fruits  of  the  creatures  of  God.  And  this 
two-fold  dignity  is  the  privilege  of  their  birthright,  as  an- 
ciently it  was.  Are  you  devoted  to  God  1  Have  you  dedi- 
cated yourselves  1  Hereby  you  are  arrived  to  this  dignity. 
For  in  the  above-mentioned  place  it  is  said,d  "  Ye  are 
come;"  you  are  actually,  already,  adjoined  to  that  church, 
and  are  the  real  present  members  of  that  holy  community. 
For  you  are  related  and  united  to  him,e  of  whom  the 
family  of  heaven  and  earth  is  named  ;  are  of  the  house- 
hold, and  the  sons  of  God,  his,  under  that  peculiar  notion, 
when  you  have  dedicated  yourselves  to  him.  You  cannot 
but  apprehend  there  are  peculiarities  of  behaviour  in  your 
after-conducl  and  management  of  yourselves,  that  belong 
to  you,  and  must  answer  and  correspond  to  j'our  being,  in 
this  sense,  his.  Some  particulars  whereof  I  shall  briefly 
mention. 

You  should  each  of  you  often  reflect  upon  it,  and  be- 
think yourself  what  j^ou  have  done,  and  whose  you  now 
are.  "  I  am  the  devoted  one  of  the  most  high  God."  It 
was  one  of  the  precepts  given  by  a  pagan  to  his  disciples, 
"  Think  with  yourself,  upon  all  occasions,  I  am  a  phi- 
losopher." What  a  world  of  sin  and  trouble  might  that 
thought,  often  renewed,  prevent,  "  I  am  a  Christian,  one 
devoted  to  God  in  Christ."  Your  having  done  this  thing, 
should  clothe  your  mind  with  new  apprehensions,  both  of 
God  and  yourselves  :  that  he  is  not  now  a  stranger  to  you, 
but  )^our  God ;  that  you  are  not  unrelated  to  him,  but  his. 
"  I  was  an  enemy,  now  am  reconciled.  I  was  a  common, 
profane  thing,  now  holiness  to  the  Lord."  'Tis  strange  to 
think  how  one  act  doth  sometimes  habit  and  tincture  a 
man's  mind;  whether  in  the  kind  of  good  or  evil.  To 
have  committed  an  act  of  murder  !     What  a  horrid  com- 

Elexion  of  mind  did  Cain  bear  with  him  hereupon.  To 
ave  dedicated  oneself  to  God,  if  seriously  and  duly 
done ;  would  it  have  less  power  to  possess  one  with  a 
holy,  calm,  peaceful  temper  of  mind  1 

You  should,  hereupon,  charge  yourself  with  all  suitable 
duty  towards  him ;  for  you  have  given  yourself  to  him 
to  serve  him;  that  is  your  very  business.  You  are  his, 
and  are  to  do  his  work,  not  your  own,  otherwise  than  a*; 
it  falls  in  with  his,  and  is  his.  You  are  to  discharge  your- 
self of  all  unsuitable  cares ;  for  will  not  he  take  care  of 
his  own,  who  hath  put  so  ill  a  note  upon  them  that  do  not  1 
He  that  provideth  not  for  his  own,  (his  domestics,)  those 
of  his  own  house,  hath  denied  the  faith,  and  is  worse  than 
an  infidel  1  Will  you  think,  he  can  be  like  such  a  onel 
Who,  if  not  the  children  of  a  prince,  should  live  free  from 
care"? 

You  should  most  deeply  concern  yourself  about  his 
concernments,  without  any  apprehension  or  fear  that  he 
will  neglect  those  that  are  most  truly  yours:  and  are  not  to 
be  indifferent  how  his  interest  thrives,  or  is  depressed  in  the 
world ;  is  increased,  or  diminished.  They  that  are  his, 
should  let  his  affairs  engross  their  cares  and  thoughts. 

You  should  abandon  all  suspicious,  hard  thoughts  of 
him.  When  in  the  habitual  bent  of  your  spirits  you  de- 
sire to  please  him,  it  is  most  injurious  to  him,  to  think  he 
will  abandon,  and  give  you  up  to  perish,  or  become  your 
enemy.  'Tis  observable  what  care  was  taken  among  the 
Romans,  Ne  qvAd  dedititiis  hostile  illatuvi  sit — that  no 
hostility  might  be  used  towards  them  that  had  surrendered, 
b  Heb.  xil  c  James  i.  IS.  d  Heb.  xii. 


themselves.  Can  man  excel  God  in  praise-worthy  things'; 
You  can  think  nothing  of  God  moie  contrary  to  his  gospel, 
or  his  nature,  than  to  surmise  he  will  destroy  one  that 
hath  surrendered  to  and  bears  a  loyal  mind  towards  him. 
And  what  a  reproach  do  you  cast  upon  him,  when  lou 
give  others  occasion  to  say,  "His  own,  they  that  have'de- 
voted  themselves  to  him,  dare  not  trust  him'?"  You  are 
taught  to  say,  "I  am  thine,  save  me;"  not  to  .suspect  he 
will  ruin  you.  They  do  strangely  misshape  religion,  con- 
sidering in  how  great  part  it  consists  in  trusting  God,  and 
living  a  life  of  faith,  that  frame  to  themselves  a  religion 
made  up  of  distrusts,  doubts,  and  fears. 

You  should  dread  to  alienate  yourselves  from  him 
which  (a-s  sacrilege  is  one  of  the  most  detestable  of  all 
sins,  a  robbing  of  God)  is  the  most  dete.stable  sacrilege. 
You  are  to  reserve  yourselves  entirely  for  him.s  Every 
one  that  is  godly  he  hath  set  apart  for  himself 

Yea,  and  you  are  not  only  to  reserve,  but,  to  your  utter- 
most, to  improve  and  better  yourselves  for  him  daily :  to 
a.spire  to  an  excellency,  in  some  measure,  suitable  to  your 
relation:  "to  walk  worthy  of  God,  who  hath  called  you 
to  his  kingdom  and  glor}-,"  (1  Thess.  ii.  12.)  remembering 
you  are  here  to  glorify  him,  and  hereafter  to  be  glorified 
with  him.  And  who  is  there  of  us  that  finds  not  himself 
under  sulficient  obligation,  by  the  mercies  of  God,  unto 
all  this  1  or  to  whom  he  may  not  sa)',  in  a  far  more  emi- 
nent sense,  than  the  apostle  speaks  it  to  Philemon,  "  Thou 
owest  even  thyself  also  unto  me  1"  Will  we  refuse  to  give 
God  what  we  owe  1  or  can  we  think  it  fit,  in  itself,  "we 
should  be  no  otherwise  his,  than  (as  one  well  says)  fields, 
woods,  and  mountains,  and  brute  beasts  V  And  I  may 
add,  can  it  be  comfortable  to  us,  he  should  have  no  other 
interest  in  us  than  he  hath  in  de\'ils  1  Is  there  no  difference 
in  the  case  of  reasonable  creatures  and  unreasonable  1 
theirs  who  profess  devotedncss  to  him,  and  theirs  who 
are  his  professed  enemies  1  The  one  sort,  through  natural 
incapacity,  cannot,  by  consent,  be  his,  and  the  other, 
through  an  invincible  malignity,  never  will.  Are  there  no 
mercies  (conferred  or  offered)  that  do  peculiarly  oblige  us 
more  1  Let  us  be  more  frequent  and  serious  in  recounting 
our  mercies,  and  set  ourselves  on  purpose  to  enter  into  the 
memory  of  God's  great  goodness,  that  we  may  thence, 
from  time  to  lime,  urge  upon  ourselves  this  great  and  com- 
prehensive duty.  And  at  this  time,  being  here  together  on 
purpose,  let  us  consider  and  reflect  afresh  upon  that  emi- 
nent mercy  which  you  are  wont  to  commemorate  in  the 
yearly  return  of  this  day. 

And  that  I  may,  more  particularh^,  direct  my  speech 
the  same  way  that  the  voice  of  that  memorable  providence 
is  especially  directed  ;  you  are,  my  lord,  to  be  more  pecu- 
liarly besought  by  the  mercies  of  God,  that  you  would 
this  day  dedicate  yourself  to  him.  I  do  beseech  therefore 
you,  by  the  many  endearing  mercies  which  God  hath  so 
plentifully  conferred  upon  you,  by  the  mercies  of  your 
noble  extraction  and  birth,  by  the  mercies  of  your  very 
ingenious  and  pious  education,  by  the  mercies  of  your 
family,  which  God  hath  made  to  descend  to  you  from  your 
honourable  progenitors ;  (which,  as  they  are  capable  of 
being  improved,  may  be  xex\  valuable  mercies;)  by  the 
blood  and  tender  rnercies  of  your  blessed  and  glorious 
Redeemer,  who  offered  up  himself  a  Sacrifice  to  God  for 
you,  that  j'ou  would  now  present  j'ourself  to  Gtod,  a  holy, 
ii\'ing  sacrifice,  which  is  your  reasonable  service.  I  add, 
by  the  signal  mercy  which  hath  made  this  a  memorable 
day  to  you,  and  by  which  you  come,  thus  long,  to  enjoy 
the  advantages  of  all  3'our  other  mercies.  How  came  it  to 
pass  that  this  day  comes  not  to  be  remembered  bj-  your 
noble  relatives,  as  a  black  and  a  gloomy  day,  the  day  of 
the  extinction  of  the  present  light  and  lustre  of  your  family, 
and  of  qucnchin?  their  coal  which  was  left "?  You  had  a 
great  Preserver,  who  we  hope  delivered  you  because  he  de- 
lighted in  you.  Your  life  was  precious  in  his  sight. 
Your  breath  was  in  his  hand  ;  he  preserved  and  renewed 
it  to  you,  when  you  were  read}'  to  breathe  your  last.  And 
we  hope  he  will  vouchsafe  you  that  greater  deliverance, 
not  to  let  you  fall  under  the  charge  which  was  once  exhibit- 
ed aeainst  a  ?reat  man,  (Dan.  v".  23.)  "  The  Goil  in  whose 
hands  thy  breath  is — hast  thou  not  glorified  :"  and  make 
you  rather  capable  of  adopting  those  words,  (Psal.  xlii.  8.) 


e  Eph.  iii. 


f  Epict. 


31 


g  Psal.  iv. 


4^3 


SELF-DEDICATION. 


"  Yet  the  Lord  will  command  his  loving-kindness  in  the 
day-time,  and  in  the  night  his  song  shall  be  with  me,  and 
my  prayer  unto  the  God  of  my  life."  Your  acknowledg- 
ments are  not  to  be  limited  to  one  day  in  the  year ;  but 
from  day  to  day  his  loving-kindness,  and  your  prayer  and 
praise,  are  to  compose  your  wKdfjucpov ;  the  one,  to  show 
you,  the  other,  to  be  unto  you  your  morning  and  evening 
exercise.  Let  this  be  your  resolution,  "  Every  day  will  I 
bless  thee .  and  I  v.n\l  praise  thy  name  for  ever  and  ever  ;" 
(Psal.  cxlv.  2.)  or  that,  (Psal.  civ.  33.)  "I  will  sing  unto 
the  Lord  as  long  as  I  live :  I  will  sing  praise  unto  my 
God  while  I  have  my  being." 

Yet  your  more  solemn  acknowledgments  are  justly 
pitched  upon  this  day.  God  hath  noted  it  for  you,  and 
made  it  a  great  day  in  your  time.  You  have  now  enjoyed 
a  scptennium,  seven  years,  of  mercies.  And  we  all  hope 
you  will  enjoy  many  more,  which  may  be  all  called  the 
posterity  of  that  day's  mercy.  It  was  the  parent  of  them 
all ;  so  pregnant  and  productive  a  mercy  was  that  of  this 
day.  You  do  owe  it  to  the  mercy  of  this  day,  that  you 
have  yet  a  life  to  devote  to  the  great  Lord  of  heaven  and 
earth,  and  to  employ  in  the  world  for  him :  and  would 
you  think  of  any  less  noble  sacrifice  1 

iEschines  the  philosopher,  out  of  his  admiration  of  So- 
crates, when  divers  presented  him  with  other  gifts,  made 
a  tender  to  him  of  himself.  Less  was  thought  an  insuffi- 
cient acknowledgment  of  the  worth  and  favours  of  a  man  ! 
Can  any  thing  less  be  thought  worthy  of  a  Godl  I  doubt 
not  you  intend,  my  lord,  a  life  of  service  to  the  God  of 
your  life.  You  would  not,  I  presume,  design  to  serve 
him  under  any  other  notion,  than  as  his.  By  dedicating 
yourself  to  him,  you  become  so  in  the  peculiar  sense.  It 
is  our  part  in  the  covenant  which  must  be  between  God 
and  us.  "  I  entered  into  covenant  with  thee,  and  thou  be- 
camest  mine,"  Ezek.  xvi.  8.  This  is  the  ground  of  a 
settled  relation,  which  we  are  to  bear  towards  him,  as  his 
servants.  'Tis  possible  I  may  do  an  occasional  service  for 
one  whose  servant  I  am  not ;  but  it  were  mean  that  a  great 
person  should  only  be  served  by  the  servants  of  another 
lord.  To  be  served  but  precariously,  and  as  it  were  upon 
courtesy  only,  true  greatness  would  disdain ;  as  if  his 
quality  did  not  admit  to  have  servants  of  his  own. 

Nor  can  it  be  thought  a  serious  Christian  (in  howsoever 
dignifying  circumstances)  should  reckon  himself  too  great 
to  be  his  servant,  when  even  a  heathen  pronounces, h  Deo 
servire  est  regnare — to  serve  God  is  to  reign.  A  religious 
nobleman  of  France,!  whose  affection  I  commend  more 
than  his  external  expression  of  it,  tells  us  he  made  a  deed 
of  gift  of  himself  to  God,  signing  it  with  his  own  blood. 
He  was  much  a  greater  man,  that  so  often  speaks  in  that 
style,  Tliy  sei'vant,  that  it  is  plain  he  took  pleasuie  in  it, 
and  counted  it  his  highest  glory.  "  Stablish  thy  word 
unto  thy  servant,  who  is  devoted  to  thy  fear,"  Psal.  cxix. 
38.  "  T'ny  servant,  thy  servant,  O  Lord,  the  son  of  thy 
handmaid  ;"  (alluding  to  the  law  by  which  the  children  of 
bond  servants  were  .servants  by  birth;)  "  thou  hast  broken 


h  Seneca. 


i  Monsieur  de  Renty. 


my  bonds ;"  (Psal.  cxvi.)  hast  {q.  d.)  released  me  from 
worse  bonds,  that  I  might  not  only  be  patient,  but  glad  to 
be  under  thine. 

Nor  was  he  a  mean  prince  k  in  his  time,  who  at  length 
abandoning  the  pleasures  and  splendour  of  his  own  court, 
(whereof  many  like  examples  might  be  given,)  retired  and 
assumed  the  name  of  Chrisiodulus — A  servsmt  of  Christ, 
accounting  the  glory  of  that  name  did  outshine,  not  only 
that  of  his  other  illustrious  titles,  but  of  the  imperial  Aiu,- 
dem  too.  There  are  very  few  in  the  world,  whom  the 
too  common  atheism  can  give  temptation  unto  to  think 
religion  an  ignominy,  and  to  count  it  a  reproach  to  be  the 
devoted  servant  of  the  most  high  God  ;  but  have  it  at 
hand  to  answer  themselves,  even  by  human  (not  to  speak 
of  the  higher  angelical)  instances,  that  he  hath  been  served 
by  greater  than  we. 

You  are,  my  lord,  shortly  to  enter  upon  the  more  public 
stage  of  the  world.  You  will  enter  with  great  advantages 
of  hereditary  honour,  fortune,  friends;  with  the  greater 
advantage  of  (I  hope)  a  well  cultivated  mind,  and  (what  is 
yet  greater)  of  a  piously  inclined  heart :  but  you  will  also 
enter  with  disadvantages  too.  It  is  a  slippery  stage  ;  it  is 
a  divided  time,  wherein  there  is  interest  against  interest, 
party  against  party.  To  have  seriously  and  with  a  pious 
obstinacy  dedicated  yourself  to  God,  will  both  direct  and 
fortify  you. 

I  know  no  party  in  which  nothing  is  amiss.  Nor  will 
that  measure,  let  you  think  it  advisable,  to  be  of  any, 
further  than  to  unite  with  what  there  is  of  real,  true  god- 
liness among  them  all.  Neither  is  there  any  surer  rule  or 
measure  for  your  direction,  than  this  ;  to  take  the  course 
and  way  which  is  most  agreeable  to  a  state  of  devotedness 
to  God.  Reduce  all  things  else,  hither.  Wheresoever  you 
believe,  in  your  conscience,  there  is  a  sincere  design  for 
the  interest  and  glory  of  God,  the  honour  or  safety  of  your 
prince,  the  real  good  and  welfare  of  your  country,  there 
you  are  to  fall  in,  and  adhere.  And  the  first  of  these  com- 
prehends the  rest.  You  will  not  be  the  less  inclined,  but 
much  the  more,  to  give  Caesar  the  things  that  are  Caesar's, 
for  your  giving  God  the  things  that  are  God's.  And  that 
is  (as  hath  been  said)  principally  and  in  the  first  place 
yourself;  and  then  all  that  is  yours  to  be  used  according 
to  his  holy  rules,  and  for  him  whose  you  are. 

And  what  can  be  to  you  the  ground  of  a  higher  fortitude  1 
Can  they  be  unsafe  that  have  devoted  themselves  to  God  1 
Dedicate  yourself,  and  you  become  a  sanctuary  (as  well  as 
a  sacrifice)  inviolably  safe  in  what  part,  and  in  what  re- 
spects, it  is  considerable  to  be  so.  And  who  can  think 
themselves  unsafe,  being,  with  persevering  fidelity,  sacred 
to  God ;  that  understand  who  he  is,  and  consider  his 
power  and  dominion  over  both  worlds,  the  present,  and 
that  which  is  to  come;  so  as  that  he  can  punish  and  re- 
ward in  both,  as  men  prove  false  and  faithful  to  him.  The 
triumphs  of  wickedness  are  short,  in  this  world.  In  how 
glorious  triumphs  will  religion  and  devotedness  to  God 
end  in  the  other  ! 

k  Cantacuzenus,  whose  life  also,  among  many  other  remarkable  things,  was 
once  strangely  preserved  in  the  fall  of  his  norse. 


TWO     SERMONS, 

PREACHED    AT    THURLOW,    IN    SUFFOLK. 

ON  THOSE  WORDS,  ROM.  VI.  13. 


'  YIELD  YOURSELVES  TO  GOD.'' 


TO  THE  MUCH-HONOURED 

BARTHOLOMEW    SOAME,    ESa 

OP  THURLOW, 
AND  SUSANNA,  HIS  PIOUS  CONSORT. 


My  -worthy  Friends, 

I  HAVE  at  length  yielded  to  your  importunity,  and  do  here  offer  these  Sermons  to  public  view  and  your  own,  which 
were  one  day  the  last  summer  preached  under  your  roof;  attributing  more  to  your  pious  design  herein,  than  to  my  own 
reasons  against  it.  I  no  further  insist  upon  the  incongruity,  having  divers  years  ago  published  a  small  treatise  of  Self- 
dedication,  now  again  to  send  abroad  another  on  the  same  subject.  For  the  way  of  tractation  is  here  ver}'  different; 
this  may  fall  into  the  hands  of  divers,  who  have  never  seen  the  other  ;  and  however,  they  who  have  read  the  other, 
have  it  in  their  choice  whether  they  will  trouble  themselves  with  this  or  no.  And  though  your  purpose  which  you 
urged  me  with,  of  lodging  one  of  these  little  books  in  each  family  of  the  hearers,  might  have  been  answered  b}^  so 
disposing  of  many  a  better  book  already  extant ;  yet  your  having  told  me  how  greatly  you  observed  them  to  be  moved 
by  these  plain  discourses,  considering  the  peculiar  advantage  of  reading  what  had  been  with  some  accept.ance  and 
relish  heard  before,  (through  that  greater  vigour  that  accompanies  the  ordinance  of  preaching  to  an  assembly,  than 
doth  usually  the  solitary  first  reading  of  the  same  thing,)  I  was  not  willing  to  run  the  hazard  of  incurring  a  guilt,  by 
refusing  a  thing  so  much  desired,  and  which,  through  God's  blessing,  might  contribute  something,  though  in  never  so 
low  a  degree,  to  the  saving  of  men's  souls.  I  could  not  indeed,  as  I  told  you,  undertake  to  recollect  every  thing  that 
was  spoken,  according  to  that  latitude  and  freedom  of  expression  wherewith  it  was  fit  to  inculcate  momentous  things 
to  a  plain  country  auditory.  But  I  have  omitted  nothing  I  could  call  to  mind ;  being  little  concerned  that  the  more 
curious  may  take  notice,  with  dislike,  how  much  in  a  work  of  this  kind  I  prefer  plainness  (though  they  may  call  it 
rudeness)  of  speech,  before  that  which  goes  for  wisdom  of  words,  or  the  most  laboured  periods. 

May  you  find  an  abundant  blessing  on  your  household,  for  the  sake  of  the  ark  which  you  have  so  piously  and  kindly 
received.  And  whereas,  by  your  means,  the  parts  about  you  have  a  help  for  the  speading  the  knowledge  of  God 
among  them,  added  to  what  they  otherwise  more  statedly  enjoy;  may  the  blessing  of  heaven  succeed  all  sincere  en- 
deavours of  both  sorts,  to  the  more  general  introducing  of  the  new  man  which  is  renewed  in  knowledge — "  where 
there  is  neither  Jew  nor  Greek,  circumcision  nor  uncircumcision,  but  Christ  is  all,  and  in  all :"  to  whose  grace  you 
are,  with  sincere  affection,  and  great  sense  of  your  kindness,  earnestly  recommended,  by 

Your  much  obliged, 

Faithful  servant  in  Christ, 

JOHN  HOWE. 


SERMON   I. 


ROMANS  VI.  13.      YIELD  YOURSELVES  TO  GOD. 


These  are  but  {ew  words ;  but  I  can  speak  to  you  of 
no  greater  or  more  important  thing  than  I  am  to  press 
upon  you  from  them  this  day.  We  are  above  taught  how 
absurd  it  is  to  continue  in  sin,  whereto  we  are  avowedly 
dead,  (v.  1,  2.)  as  is  signified  by  our  baptism;  together 
with  our  entrance  into  a  new  state  of  life,  and  that  in  both 
we  are  to  be  conformed  unto  the  death  and  resurrection  of 
Christ,  (r.  3 — 5.)  so  that  sin  ought  now  no  more  to  have 
a  new  dominion  over  us,  than  death  can  again  have  over 
him,  V.  6 — 10.  We  are,  therefore,  exhorted  so  to  account 
of  ourselves  and  of  our  present  state,  that  "  we  are  dead 
to  sin,  but  alive  to  God  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord;" 
and,  thereupon,  never  more  to  let  sin  govern  us  or  reign 
over  us,  or  yield  to  it,  v.  11 — 13.  former  part.  But  what 
then  7  How  are  we  otherwise  to  dispose  of  ourselves  1  If 
we  may  not  yield  ourselves  to  the  service  of  sin,  what  are 
we  then  to  do  with  ourselves  1  The  text  tells  us,  and  the 
very  reason  of  the  thing  shows  it ;  But  yield  yourselves  to 
God,  &c.  The  subject  to  be  discotirsed  of  is  an  express 
precept,  charging  it  upon  us  all  as  our  unquestionable 
duty,  to  yield  ourselves  to  God  ;  which,  therefore,  it  can 
only  be  our  business  in  speaking  to  this  text,  to  explain 
and  apply. 

1.  We  are  to  explain  it.  Whosoever  shall  charge  upon 
others  such  a  duty,  not  obvious,  perhaps,  at  the  first  view, 
in  the  full  extent  of  it,  to  every  one's  understanding,  may 
well  expect  to  be  asked,  "  But  what  do  you  mean  by  this 
precept?  or  what  doth  this  yielding  ourselves  to  God  sig- 
nify 7"  And  here  are  two  things  to  be  opened  to  you. — 
1.  How,  or  under  what  notions  we  are  to  consider  God 
and  ourselves  in  this  matter  :  and — 2.  What  our  yielding 
ourselves  to  him,  so  considered,  must  include. 

1.  How  are  we  to  consider  or  look  upon  God  in  this 
affair?  You  are  to  consider  him  both  as  he  is  in  himself, 
and  according  to  the  relations  he  bears  to  you ;  whether 
before  your  yielding  yourselves  to  him,  or  in  and  upon 
your  so  doing. 

1.  As  he  is  in  himself.  You  that  have  heard,  or  now 
read  what  I  have  said,  and  do  write,  here  make  a  stand, 
and  bethink  yourselves  a  while.  What !  are  you  about 
yielding  yourselves  to  God  1  Sure  you  ought  to  be  think- 
ing of  it  as  soon  as  you  hear  his  claim  laid  to  you.  But 
do  you  now  know  with  whom  you  have  to  dol  Too 
many  have  the  name  of  God,  that  great  and  awful  name, 
in  their  mouth  or  ear,  and  have  no  correspondent  thought 
in  their  mind ;  it  passes  with  them  as  a  transient  sound, 
as  soon  over  as  another  common  word  of  no  greater 
length,  and  leaves  no  impression.  Perhaps  there  is  less  in 
their  minds  to  answer  it  than  most  other  words  which  men 
u.se  in  common  discourse.  For  they  have  usually  distinct 
thoughts  of  the  things  they  speak  of ;  otherwise  they 
should  neither  understand  one  another  nor  themselves, 
but  might  speak  of  a  horse,  and  mean  a  sheep ;  or  be 
thought  to  mean  so.  And  it  would  no  more  move  a  man 
or  impress  his  mind  to  hear  or  mention  a  jest,  than  a  mat- 
ter of  life  and  death.  But  the  holy  and  reverend  name 
of  God  is  often  so  slightly  mentioned;  as  in  common  oaths, 
or  in  idle  talk  is  so  merely  taken  in  vain,  that  if  they  were 
on  the  sudden  stopped,  and  asked  what  they  thought  on, 
or  had  in  their  mind,  when  they  mentioned  that  word,  and 
were  to  make  a  true  answer,  they  cannot  say  they  thought 
of  any  thinsc :  as  if  the  name  of  God,  the  All!  were  the 
name  of  nothing  !  Otherwise,  had  they  thought  what  that 
great  name  signifies,  either  they  had  not  mentioned  it,  or 
the  mention  of  it  had  struck  their  hearts,  and  even  over- 
whelmed their  very  souls  !  I  could  tell  you  what  awe  and 
observance  hath  been  wiint  to  be  expressed  in  reference  to 
that  sacred  name,  among  a  people  that  were  called  by  it ; 
and  surely  the  very  sound  of  that  name  ought  ever  to 

a  John  iv.  24. 


shake  all  the  powers  of  our  souls,  and  presently  form  them 
to  reverence  and  adoration.  Shall  we  think  it  fit  to  play 
or  trifle  with  it,  as  is  the  common  wont?  My  frieiuLs, 
shall  we  now  do  so,  when  we  are  called  upon  to  yield  our- 
selves to  God?  Labour  to  hear  and  think,  and  act  intel- 
ligently, and  as  those  that  have  the  understandings  of 
men.  And  now,  especially  in  this  solemn  transaction, 
endeavour  to  render  God  great  to  yourselves;  enlarge 
your  minds,  that,  as  far  as  is  possible  and  needful,  they 
may  take  in  the  entire  notion  of  him.  As  to  what  he  is  in 
himself,  you  must  conceive  of  him  as  a  Spirit  ;"■  as  his 
own  word,  which  can  best  tell  us  what  he  is,  instructs  us, 
and  so  as  a  Being  of  far  higher  excellency  than  any  thing 
you  can  see  with  your  eyes,  or  touch  with  your  hands,  oi 
than  can  come  under  the  notice  of  any  of  your  senses. 
You  may  easily  apprehend  spiritiuil  being  to  be  the  source 
and  spring  of  life  and  self-moving  power.  This  world 
were  all  a  dead  unmoving  lump,  if  there  were  no  such 
thing  as  spirit ;  as  your  bodies  when  the  soul  is  fled. 
You  must  conceive  him  to  be  an  eternal,  self-subsisting 
Spirit,  not  sprung  up  into  being  from  another,  as  our 
souls  are :  but  who,  from  the  excellency  of  his  own  being, 
was  necessarily  of  and  from  himself;  comprehending  ori- 
ginally and  eternally  in  himself  the  fulness  of  all  life  and 
being.  I  would  fain  lead  you  here,  as  by  the  hand,  a  few 
plain  and  easy  steps.  You  are  sure  that  somewhat  now 
is — of  this  you  can  be  in  no  doubt ;  and  next,  you  may  be 
as  sure  that  somewhat  hath,  of  itself,  ever  been  ;  for  if 
nothing  at  all  now  M'ere,  you  can  easily  apprehend  it  im- 
possible that  any  thing  should  ever  be,  or  of  it.self  now 
begin  to  be,  and  spring  up  out  of  nothing.  Do  but  make 
this  supposition  in  your  own  minds,  and  the  matter  will 
be  as  plain  to  yon  as  any  thing  can  be,  that  if  nothing  at 
all  were  now  in  being,  nothing  could  ever  come  into  be- 
ing; wherefore  you  may  be  sure,  that  because  there  is 
somewhat  now  in  being,  there  must  have  been  somewhat 
or  other  always  in  being,  that  was  eternally  of  itself.  And 
then,  to  go  a  httle  further,  since  you  know  there  are  many 
things  in  being  that  were  not  of  themselves,  you  may  be 
sure  that  what  was  always  of  itself,  had  in  it  a  sufficiency 
of  active  power  to  produce  other  things ;  otherwise  nothing 
that  is  not  of  itself  could  ever  be ;  as  you  know  that  we 
were  not  of  ourselves ;  and  the  case  is  the  same  a.s  to  what- 
soever else  our  eyes  behold. 

You  must  conceive  of  God  therefore  as  comprehending 
originally  in  his  own  being,  which  is  most  peculiar  to  him- 
self, a  power  to  produce  all  whatsoever  being,  excellency, 
and  perfection,  is  to  be  found  in  all  the  whole  creation : 
for  there  can  be  nothing  which  either  is  not,  or  arises  not 
from,  what  was  of  itself.  And  therefore  that  he  is  an  ab- 
solutely, universally,  and  infinitely  perfect  Being,  and 
therefore  that  life,  knowledge,  wisdom,  power,  goodness, 
holiness,  justice,  truth,  and  whatsoever  other  conceivable 
excellencies  do  all  in  highest  perfection  belong,  as  ne- 
cessary attributes,  unchangeably  and  without  possibility 
of  diminution  unto  him.  And  all  which  his  own  word 
(agreeably  to  the  plain  reason  of  things)  doth  in  multitudes 
of  places  ascribe  to  him  ;  as  you  that  are  acquainted  with 
the  Bible  cannot  but  know.  You  must  therefore  conceive 
of  him,  as  the  All  in  All.  So  great,  so  excellent,  so  glo- 
rious a  One  he  is,  to  whom  you  are  to  .surrender  and  yield 
yourselves. 

You  are  to  conceive  of  him  as  most  essentially  One,  for 
there  can  be  but  one  All.  And  so  his  M'ord  teaches  you 
to  conceive.  "Hear,  O  Israel !  the  Lord  our  God  is  one 
Lord,"  Deut.  vi.  4.  "  We  know  there  is  no  other  God  but 
one,"  &c.  1  Cor.  viii.  4 — 6.  Your  thoughts  therefore  need 
not  be  divided  within  you,  nor  your  minds  hang  in  doubt, 
to  whom  you  are  to  betake  and  yield  yourselves  :  there  is 


YIELD  YOURSELVES  TO  GOD. 


425 


no  place  or  pretence  for  halting  between  two  opinions. 
He  most  righteously  lays  the  .sole  claim  to  you,  a  just  God 
and  a  Saviour,  and  there  is  none  besides  him,  Isa.  xlv.  2L 
And  so  we  are  told  often  in  that  and  the  foregoing  chap- 
ters. He  whose  far-discerning  eye  projects  its  beams 
every  way,  and  ranges  through  all  infinity,  says  he  knows 
not  any,  ch.  xliv.  8. 

Yet  again  you  are  to  conceive  of  him  as  Three  in  One, 
and  that,  in  your  yielding  yourselves  to  him ;  as  the  pre- 
scribed form,  when  this  surrender  is  to  be  made  in  bap- 
tism, directs  ;  which  runs  thus.  In  the  navie  of  the  Father, 
Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  Matt,  xxviii.  19.  You  "are  not  to  be 
carious  in  your  inquiries  beyond  what  is  written  in  this 
matter,  how  far  the  Subsistents  in  the  Godhead  are  three, 
and  in  what  sense  one  ;  they  cannot  be  both  in  the  same 
sense.  But  there  is  latitude  enough  to  conceive  how  they 
may  be  distinct  from  each  other,  and  yet  agree  in  one  na- 
ture; which  in  none  of  them  depending  upon  will  and 
Eleasure,  sets  each  of  them  infinitely  above  all  created 
eing:  which  for  the  Divine  pleasure  only  was  and  is 
created.  Rev.  iv.  11.  And  that  we  so  far  conceive  of  them, 
as  three,  as  to  apprehend  some  things  spoken  of  one,  that 
are  not  to  be  affirmed  of  another  of  them,  is  so  plain,  of  so 
great  consequence,  and  the  whole  frame  of  practical  reli- 
gion so  much  depends  thereon ;  and  even  this  transaction 
of  yielding  up  ourselves,  (which  must  be  introduciive  and 
fundamental  to  all  the  rest,)  that  it  is  by  no  means  to  be  ne- 
glected in  our  daily  course,  and  least  of  all  in  this  solemn 
business,  as  will  more  appear  anon.  In  the  meantime,  set 
this  ever  blessed,  glorious  God,  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy 
Ghost,  before  your  eyes,  as  to  whom  (thus  in  himself  con- 
sidered) you  are  now  to  yield  yourselves. 

2.  You  must  conceive  of  him  according  to  the  relations 
which  he  bears  towards  j'^ou,  partly  before  3'our  yielding 
yourselves  to  him,  and  partly  in  and  upon  your  doing  it. 
That  is, 

1.  Before  you  do  any  such  thing.you  must  conceive  of  him, 

1.  As  your  Creator,  the  Author  of  your  being,  of  whom, 
and  through  whom,  and  to  whom,  all  things  are.b  He 
that  made  you  demands  you  for  himself  You  are  re- 
quired to  yield  yourselves  to  him  that  gave  you  breath. 

2.  As  the  continual  Sustaincr  of  your  being  ;  and  who 
renews  }''our  life  unto  j-ou  every  moment ;  in  whom  you 
live,  and  move,  and  have  your  being,  >=  continually  ;  so  that 
if  he  should  withdraw  his  supports,  you  immediately  drop 
into  nothing.  But  these  are  things  common  to  j'ou  wiih 
all  other  creatures ;  and  signify  therefore  his  antecedent 
right  in  you,  before  you  have  yielded  yourselves,  upon 
which  you  ought  to  do  it,  and  cannot  without  great  in- 
justice to  him  decline  doing  it.  There  are  other  consider- 
ations also  you  ought  to  entertain  concerning  him  in  this 
your  yielding  yourselves  to  him,  viz.  of  some  things  which 
are  partly  and  in  some  sense  before  it,  and  which  it  sup- 
poses, but  partly  also,  and  in  a  more  special  sense,  would 
follow  and  be  inferred  by  it. 

Principally,  this  fourfold  consideration  you  should  have 
of  him  in  your  yielding  yourselves  to  him,  viz.  as  your 
Oioner,  your  Teacher,  your  Ruler,  and  your  Benefactor, 
and  all  these  with  the  addition  of  Sujrreme,  it  being  impos- 
sible he  should  have  a  superior  ;  or  that  there  should  be 
any  one  above  him  in  any  of  these.  And  he  is  in  some 
sense  all  these  to  you  before  you  can  have  yielded  your- 
selves; (as  may  in  great  part  he  collected  from  what  hatli 
been  already  said ;)  but  when  you  yield  yourselves  to  him, 
he  will  be  all  these  to  you  in  a  far  higher, nobler,  and  more 
excellent  sense  ;  and  you  are  to  3ueld  yourselves  to  him 
as  such,  or  that  in  your  so  doing,  he  may  actually  become 
such  to  you. 

1.  As  your  Owner.  The  God  whose  you  are,  as  the 
apostle  speaks,  Acts  xxvii.  23.  and  whom,  a.s  it  there 
follows,  and  is  naturally  consequent,  you  are  to  serve. 
You  were  by  this  a  former  right,  as  all  things,  being  made 
by  him,  are:  But  you  are  to  yield  yourselves  to  him, 
that  j-ou  may  be  more  peculiarlj'  his,  in  a  sense  more  ex- 
cellent in  itself,  and  more  comfortable  to  you;  as  Exod. 
xix.  5.  If  you  will  obey — you  shall  be  to  me  a  peculiar 
treasure  above  all  people,  for  all  the  earth  is  mine.  Of  such 
a.s  fear  him,  the  great  God  says,  They  shall  be  mine  in  the 
day  when  I  make  up  my  jewels,  Ma'l.  iii.  17.   Your  yicld- 

b  Rom.  xi.  36.  c  Acts  .wii.  29. 


ing  yourselves  adds  nothing  to  his  right  in  you ;  you  therein 
only  recognise  and  acknowledge  the  right  he  had  in  you 
before,  but  it  adds  to  you  a  capacity  and  qualification,  both 
by  the  tenure  of  his  gospel-covenant,  and  in  the  nature  of 
the  thing,  for  such  nobler  uses  as  pthcrwise  you  cannot 
serve  for :  as  the  mure  contemptible  lumber  about  a  man's 
house  may  be  as  truly  his,  as  the  most  precious  things ; 
but  neither  doth  he  intend,  nor  can  such  meaner  things 
admit  to  be  the  ornaments,  either  of  his  person,  or  his 
house.  The  great  God  intends  his  devoted  peculiar  people 
to  be  to  him  a  crown  and  a  royal  diadem,  I.sa.  Ixii.  3.  when 
he  puts  away  the  wicked  of  the  earth  like  dross,  Ps.  cxix. 
119.  In  a  great  house  there  are  not  only  ves,sels  of  silver 
and  gold,  but  also  of  wood  and  of  earth,  2  Tim.  ii.  20.  But 
'tis  only  the  purged  and  sanctified  soul  (which  is  al.so  a 
self-devoted  one)  that  shall  be  the  ves.sel  unto  honour,  be- 
ing made  meet  for  the  master's  use,  and  prepared  to  every 
good  work,  v.  21.  Persons  and  things  acquire  sacredness 
by  being  devoted  to  God.  Persons  especially,  that  can  juid 
do  devote  themselves,  are  highly  ennobled  by  it :  he  here- 
upon (besides  their  relative  holiness)  really  more  and  more 
sanctifies  and  frames  them  for  his  own  more  immediate 
service  and  communion.  Of  such  a  people  he  tells  us, 
that  he  hath  formed  them  for  himself,  and  they  shall  praise 
him  ;  and  to  them  he  saith,  (intending  it  manifestly  in  the 
more  eminent  sense,)  Thou  art  mine,  Isa.  xliii.  1,  7,  21. 
Such  may  with  a  modest  and  humble,  but  with  a  just,  con- 
fidence freely  say,  I  am  thine,  save  me,  Ps.  cxix.  94.  In 
yielding  yourselves  consider  therefore  first,  that  he  is  yuur 
Owner  by  an  unquestionable  former  right,  and  let  that 
effectually  move  you  to  do  it  with  all  your  hearts.  For 
will  you  not  give  him  his  own  ?  When  you  account  duty 
to  your  prince  obliges  you  to  give  to  Caesar  the  things  that 
are  Csesar's,  will  you  not  give  God  the  things  that  are 
God's  1  And  will  you  not  know  him  for  yotu-  Owner  1 
The  ox  knows  his  owner,  Isa.  i.  3.  Or  will  it  satisfy  you 
lobe  in  no  other  kind  his,  than  brutes  and  devils  are,  that 
either  through  an  incapacity  of  nature  cannot  acknowledge 
him,  or  through  a  malignity  of  nature  will  not  1  O  yield 
yourselves,  with  humble  desire  and  expectation  that  he 
will  vouchsafe  otherwise  to  own  you ! 

2.  As  your  teacher;  so  indeed  he  also  is  to  all  men, 
though  they  never  j-ield  themselves  to  him.  He  that 
teaches  man  knowledge,  shall  not  he  know "?  Ps.  xciv.  10. 
There  is  a  .spirit  in  man,  and  the  inspiration  of  the  Al- 
mighty gives  him  understanding.  Yea,  and  inferior  crea- 
tures, as  they  all  owe  their  natures  and  peculiar  instincts 
to  him,  may  be  said  to  have  him  for  their  Teacher  too. 
But  will  it  content  you  to  be  so  only  taught  by  himi  There 
is  another  sort  of  teaching  which,  if  3-ou  yield  yourselves 
to  him  as  j'^our  great  Instructor,  he  M"ill  vouchsafe  unto 
you.  The  things  you  know  not,  and  which  it  is  necessary 
you  should  know,  he  will  teach  you,  i.  e.  such  things  as  are 
of  real  necessity  to  your  true  and  final  welfare,  not  which 
only  serve  to  please  your  fancy,  or  gratify  your  curiosity: 
for  his  teaching  respects  an  appointed,  certain  end,  suit- 
able to  his  wisdom  and  mercy,  and  to  the  calamity  and 
danger  of  your  state.  The  teaching  requisite  for  perishing 
sinners,  was,  what  they  might  do  to  be  saved.  And  when 
we  have  cast  about  in  our  own  thoughts  never  so  much, 
we  have  no  waj'  to  take  but  to  yield  ourselves  to  God, 
who  will  then  be  our  most  undeceivhig  Guide.  To  whom 
it  belongs  to  save  us  at  last,  to  him  only  it  can  belong  to 
lead  us  in  the  wa}-  to  that  blessed  end. 

Many  anxious  inquiries  and  fervent  disputes  there  have 
been,  how  one  may  be  infallibly  assured  of  the  way  to  be 
saved.  They  are  to  be  excused  who  think  it  not  fit,  but 
upon  very  plain  groimds,  to  venture  so  great  a  concern- 
ment ;  or  to  run  so  great  a  hazard  in  a  mere  compliment 
to  any  man,  or  party  of  men.  Confident  e.vpressions,  as. 
My  soul  for  your's,  and  such  like,  signify  nothing  with  .a 
cautious  considering  man,  except  that  such  as  them  care 
as  little  for  his  soul  as  their  own.  The  papal  infallibility 
some  would  have  us  trust  to  at  a  venture,  and  would  make 
us  think  it  rudeness  to  doubt  it ;  when  nobod)'  stands 
upon  good  manners  in  endeavouring  to  escape  a  ruin  ; 
when  a  great  part  of  their  o\vn  communion  trust  not  to  it.  a 
And  some  of  them  have  written  strongly  against  it. «  The 
accurate  stating  and  discussing  of  the  controvers}',  how 
d  The  Gallican  cJuirch,  &c.  €Du  Piii.  *"-. 


436 


YIELD  YOURSELVES  TO  GOD, 


far  or  in  what  sense  any  such  thing  as  infallible  light  may 
belong  to  the  Christian  church,  are  not  fit  for  this  place, 
nor  for  a  discourse  of  this  nature.  'Tis  enough  now  to 
say  that  this  claim  hereof  to  the  pope  or  bishop  of  Rome, 
as  such,  1.  Cannot  be  proved,  and,  2.  May  be  plainly 
disproved. 

1.  It  cannot  be  proved.  For  since  no  principles  of  com- 
mon reason  are  pretended  sufficient  to  prove  it  of  any  man, 
or  of  him  more  than  another,  it  must  be  proved  by  super- 
natural revelation,  if  at  all.  But  in  the  written  word  of 
God  there  is  no  such  thing.  Pretences  from  thence  are  too 
vain  to  be  refuted  or  mentioned.  And  if  any  other  reve- 
lation should  be  pretended,  'twill  be  a  new,  and  as  impos- 
sible a  task,  to  prove  the  divinity  of  that  revelation,  so  as 
to  infer  upon  the  world  an  obligation  to  believe  it.  Nor 
is  it  necessary  to  insist  upon  this  ;  because, 

2.  It  may  be  plainly  disproved  ;  for  the  same  thing  can- 
not be  both  true  and  false.  And  it  sufficiently  disproves 
such  a  man's  infallibility,  or  the  impossibility  of  his  erring, 
that  it  can  be  evidently  proved  he  hath  erred.  As  when 
he  hath  determined  against  the  express  word  of  Christ,  for- 
bidding them  (to  take  one  or  two  instances  among  many) 
to  drink  of  the  eucharistical  cup,  whom  he  hath  com- 
manded to  drink  it;  or  (to  mention  a  more  important  one) 
when  believers  in  Christ,  or  lovers  of  him,  are  pronounced 
danmed,  who  he  hath  said  shall  not  perish,  but  have  ever- 
lasting life,  and  the  crown  of  righteousness ;  or  when  on 
the  other  hand,  pardon  of  sin  and  eternal  life  are  pre- 
tended to  be  given  to  such,  whom  the  evangelical  law  con- 
demns to  death. 

When  one,  to  whom  this  privilege  hath  been  asserted  to 
belong,  hath  determined  against  another,  to  whom  upon 
the  same  grounds  it  must  equally  belong.  As  'tis  well 
known  in  the  Christian  church,  that  pope  might  be  alleged 
against  pope,  and  one  papal  constitution  against  another. 
Not  to  insist  on  what  might  be  shown  out  of  their  own  his- 
tory, that  the  same  pope  hath,  being  so,  changed  his  judg- 
ment in  a  ])oint  of  doctrine,  and  left  us  to  divine  when  he 
was  the  fallible,  and  when  the  infallible,  pope.  And  again, 
When  there  have  been  determinations  against  the  com- 
mon uncorrupted  senses  of  mankind,  as  that  what  their 
sight,  and  touch,  and  taste  assures  them  is  bread,  is  said  to 
be  the  flesh  of  a  human  body.  For  if  you  cannot  be  sure 
of  what  both  your  own,  and  the  sound  senses  of  any  other 
man  would  tell  you,  you  can  be  sure  of  nothing  at  all :  you 
cannot  be  sure  you  see  one  another,  or  hear  me  speaking 
to  you;  nor  be  sure  when  you  heard  the  transforming 
words,  "  This  is  my  body;"  or  much  less  that  they  were 
ever  spoken,  if  you  heard  them  not ;  or  that  that  was  bread 
and  not  a  stone,  or  a  piece  of  clay,  that  is  pretended  to  be 
transubstantiated  by  them.  The  foundation  of  all  certainty 
were  upon  these  terms  taken  away  from  among  men  on 
earth  ;  and  upon  the  same  common  grounds  upon  which 
it  is  pretended  you  ought  to  believe  that  which  is  shown  or 
offered  you  to  be  the  flesh  of  a  man,  and  not  bread  any 
longer,  you  must  believe  or  judge  the  quite  contrary,  that 
it  is  bread  still,  and  not  flesh,  and  consequently  that  he  is 
far  from  being  infallible,  but  doth  actually  err,  upon  whose 
^authority  you  are  directed  to  believe  otherwise. 

And  indeed  the  claimed  infallibility  is  by  this  sufficiently 
disproved,  that  there  is  no  imaginable  way  of  proving  it. 
For  if  there  were  any  such  thing,  it  must  be  by  God's  own 
immediate  gift  and  vouchsafement ;  how  otherwise  should 
a  man  be  made  infallible  1  And  if  so,  it  must  be  for  an  end 
worthy  of  a  wise  and  merciful  God;  whereupon  for  the 
same  reason  for  which  he  should  have  made  such  a 
man  infallible,  he  should  have  made  it  infallibly  certain  to 
other  men,  that  he  hath  made  him  so.  Whereas  there  is 
no  one  point  wherein  his  infallible  determination  can  be 
pretended  to  be  necessary,  against  which  there  is  more  to 
be  said  than  against  the  pretence  itself  of  his  infallibility  ; 
nor  for  which  less  is  to  be  said  than  can,  with  any  colour, 
or  without  highest  and  most  just  contempt,  be  said  for  it. 
The  most  weighty  thing  that  I  have  known  alleged  is,  the 
great  expediency  of  an  infallible  judge.  But  if  we  will 
think  that  a  good  way  of  arguing,  that  things  are  in  fact  so 
or  so,  because  we  can  fancy  it  would  be  better  if  they 
were  ;  we  may  as  well  prove  that  all  mankind  are  sincere 
Christians,  or  there  is  no  sin  in  the  world,  nor  ever  was, 
and  a  thousand  things  besides  in  the  natural  world,  that 


never  were  or  will  be,  because  it  appears  to  us  'twould  be 
for  the  better.  So  much  is  the  foolishness  of  man  wiser 
than  God. 

Besides  that  sanctity  must  be  judged  as  necessary  to 
the  final  salvation  and  felicity  of  the  souls  of  men  as  orlho- 
doxy,  or  exemption  from  doctrinal  error, by  all,  with  whom 
either  Christian  religion,  or  common  reason,  signifies  any 
thing.  For  the  same  reason  therefore  for  which  it  can  be 
thought  necessary  God  should  have  put  it  into  the  power 
of  any  man  to  make  others  not  err,  he  should  have  put  it 
equally  into  his  power  to  make  them  holy,  to  renew  and 
change  their  hearts  and  lives.  But  what  man  hath  this 
power  1  And  one  would  reasonably  expect,  if  either  were, 
that  both  powers  should  be  lodged  in  the  same  man; 
which  if  they  should  pretend,  who  assert  the  other  unto 
one  man,  their  own  histories  might  make  them  blush,  un- 
less they  can  think  it  more  probable  that  he  can  and  will 
eflfectually  sanctify  another,  and  make  him  holy,  who  is 
himself  most  infamously  impure  and  unholy,  than  that  he 
can  secure  another  from  erring  in  matters  of  doctrine,  who 
cannot  secure  himself.  But  then  it  may  be  said,  if  .such 
sure  light  and  guidance  is  not  to  be  found  or  had  from  one 
man,  it  must  be  from  some  community  or  body  of  men  in 
the  Christian  church.  For  can  it  be  thought  God  should 
have  taken  care  to  settle  a  religion  in  the  world,  on  pur- 
pose for  the  saving  of  men's  souls,  that  yet  afibrds  no  man 
any  certainty  of  being  saved  by  it "? 

I  answer,  yes,  there  is  a  certain,  undeceiving  light  af- 
forded by  it  to  the  whole  body  of  sincere  Christians,  suffi- 
cient, and  intended  not  to  gratify  a  vain  humour,  but  to 
save  their  souls,  and  which  you  can  only,  and  may  confi- 
dently, expect  by  yielding  yourselves  to  God  as  your 
Teacher.  As  it  cannot  agree  with  the  absolute  perfection 
of  his  nature  to  be  himself  deceived  in  any  thing,  it  can, 
you  may  be  sure,  as  little  agree  with  it  to  deceive  you,  or 
let  you  mistake  your  way,  in  the  things  wherein  he  hath 
encouraged  and  induced  you  to  commit  and  intrust  your- 
selves to  his  conduct  and  guidance.  Will  he  let  a  soul 
wander  and  be  lost,  that  hath  entirely  given  up  itself  to  be 
led  and  taught  by  him  1  His  word  hath  at  once  expressed 
to  you  his  nature,  and  his  good-will  towards  you,  in  this 
case.  "Good  and  upright  is  the  Lord,  therefore  will  he 
teach  sinners  in  the  way,"  Ps.  xxv.  8.  But  what  sinners  1 
the  next  words  tell  you,  the  meek  (self-resigned  ones, 
humble,  teachable  learners)  he  will  guide  in  judgment,  or 
with  judgment ;  (as  that  particle  admits  to  be  read  ;)  he 
will  guide  them  judiciously,  and  surely,  so  that  your 
hearts  need  not  misgive,  or  suspect,  or  doubt  to  follow; 
"  The  meek  will  he  teach  his  way,"  v.  9.  Who  would  not 
wish  and  be  glad  to  have  such  a  Teacher  ?  You  shall 
know  (how  express  is  his  word !)  if  you  follow  on  to  know 
the  Lord ;  for,  his  going  forth  is  prepared  as  the  morning, 
Hos.  vi.  3.  You  do  not  need  to  devise  in  the  morning 
how  to  create  your  own  light,  'tis  prepared  and  ready  for 
you ;  the  sun  was  made  before  you  were,  and  it  keeps  its 
course  ;  and  so  constantly  will  God's  own  light  shine  to 
you,  without  your  contrivance  or  care,  for  any  thing  but 
to  seek,  receive  it,  and  be  guided  by  it.  Know  your  ad- 
vantage in  having  such  a  Teacher. 

1.  He  will  teach  you  inwardly ;  even  your  very  hearts, 
and  so  as  his  instructions  shall  reach  the  centre,  the  inmost 
of  your  spirits.  God,  that  made  light  to  shine  out  of  dark- 
ness, hath  shined  into  our  hearts,  &c.  2  Cor.  iv.  6.  And 
when  that  holy  good  man  had  been  solacing  himself  with 
highest  pleasure  in  considering  this,  that  God  was  his  por- 
tion, so  contentful  and  satisfying  a  one,  that  he  cannot  for- 
bear .saying,  The  lines  are  fallen  to  me  in  pleasant  places, 
and  I  have  a  goodly  heritage,  (Ps.  xvi.  5,  6.)  he  presently 
adds,  "  I  will  bless  the  Lord,  who  hath  given  me  counsel ;" 
q.  d.  "  I  should  never  else  have  thought  of  such  a  thing: 
it  had  never  come  into  my  mind  to  think  of  choosing  God 
for  my  portion.  I  should  have  done  like  the  rest  of  the 
vain  world,  have  followed  shadows  all  my  days.  My  reins 
also  instruct  me  in  the  night  season."  He  will  so  teach 
you,  as  to  make  you  teach  yourselves,  put  an  abiding  word 
into  you,  that  shall  talk  with  you  when  you  sit  in  your 
houses,  and  walk  by  the  way,  and  when  you  lie  down,  and 
when  you  rise  up,  and  whereby  you  shall  be  enabled  to 
commune  with  your  own  hearts  upon  your  beds  while 
others  sleep;  and  revolve  or  roll  over  in  your  minds,  die- 


YIELD  YOURSELVES  TO  GOD. 


427 


tales  of  life.  You  will  not  need  to  say,  Who  shall  ascend 
into  heaven,  to  bring  down  Christ  from  above  If  or,  Who 
shall  descend  into  the  deep,  to  bring  Christ  again  from  the 
dead?  for  the  word  will  be  nigh  thee,  not  in  thy  mouth 
only,  but  in  thine  heart,  &c.  You  will  have  in  you  an  en- 
grafted word,s  and  the  law  of  your  God  shall  be  in  your 
heart,  so  as  none  of  your  steps  shall  slide. h  This  is  our 
Lord's  own  interpretation  of  divers  words  of  the  prophets, 
that  in  the  days  of  the  more  general  diffusion  of  holy ,  vital 
light,  which  was  to  be  after  his  own  appearance  in  the 
world,  "  They  shall  be  all  taught  of  God,"  John  vi.  45. 
I.  e.  so  as  to  have  their  hearts  inclined  towards  himself, 
and  drawn  to  him,  as  the  reference  of  these  words  to  those 
of  the  foregoing  verse  shows.     Wherein, 

2.  Lies  your  further  advantage.  That  by  him  you  shall 
be  taught  effectually.  Other  teaching,  as  it  doth  but  reach 
the  ear,  or  only,  at  the  most,  beget  some  faint  notions  in 
the  mind,  that  you  are  little  the  better  for;  his  shall  pro- 
duce real  fruit.  He  is  the  Lord)'our  God  who  teaches  you 
to  profit;  and  who  by  gentle  and  unforcible,  but  by  most 
prevailing,  insinuations,  shall  slide  in  upon  your  spirits, 
win  them  by  light  and  love,  and  allure  them  to  a  compli- 
ance with  what  shall  be  in  the  end  safe  and  happy  for 
yourselves.  He  will  instruct  you,  though  not  with  a  vio- 
lent, yet  with  a  strong  hand,  so  as  not  to  lose  his  kind  de- 
sign. Others  teach  you,  and  leave  you  what  they  found 
you  ;  convinced  perhaps,  but  not  changed  ;  unable  to  re- 
sist any  ill  inclination,  or  your  disinclination  to  that  which 
was  good.  Power  will  accompany  his  teaching;  a  con- 
quering power,  that  will  secretly  constrain  and  captivate 
your  hearts ;  and  how  pleasant  a  victor}^  will  that  be  to 
yourselves  !  O  the  peace  and  joy  you  will  find  springing 
up  within  you,  when  once  you  feel  yourselves  overcome  ! 
The  most  that  a  man  can  say  to  you  is,  what  the  prophet 
Samuel  once  said,  (so  great,  and  so  good  a  man,)  "God 
forbid  I  should  sin  against  the  Lord  in  ceasing  to  pray  for 
you;  but  I  will  teach  you  the  good  and  the  right  way."i 
He  could  only  show  that  way,  and  pray  that  God  would 
do  the  rest ;  which  implies  God  only  can  so  teach  it  you, 
as  to  make  you  walk  in  it.  I  am  not  persuading  you  to 
slight  human  teaching ;  you  will  need  it ;  and  'tis  among 
the  gifts  which  your  glorious  Redeemer,  being  ascended 
on  highjk  hath  given  to  men,  viz.  pastors  and  teachers.' 
But  understand  their  teaching  to  be  only  subordinate,  and 
ministerial.  Without,  or  against  God,  you  are  to  call  no 
man  master  or  teacher  upon  earth.  And  thus  far  their 
teaching  is  to  be  regarded,  as  it  agrees, 

1.  With  what  God  doth  inwardly  teach  j'ou,  by  that 
common  light  which  shines  in  every  man's  own  bosom 
that  with  a  sincere  mind  attends  to  it,  and  which  is  too 
little  attended  too.  There  are  truths  too  commonly  held 
in  unrighteousness,  seated  generally  in  the  minds  and  eon- 
sciences  of  men  ;  by  which,  though  they  have  not  another 
law,  they  are  a  law  nnto  themselves;™  and  for  the  stifling 
and  resisting  whereof,  the  wrath  of  God  is  revealed  from 
heaven  against  them.  And  from  such  truths  they  might 
infer  others,  and  where  God  affords  external  helps,  come 
to  discern  a  sure  ground  whereupon  to  understand  that 
what  is  contained  besides  in  the  frame  of  Christian  doc- 
trine is  true;  being  enabled  to  judge  of  the  evidences  that 
prove  the  whole  revelation  thereof  to  be  from  God ;  and 
nothing  being  in  itself  more  evident  than  that  what  he  hath 
revealed  is  true.  And  withal  God  is  graciously  pleased  to 
shine  into  minds  that  with  upright  aims  set  themselves  to 
inquire  out  and  understand  his  mind;  and  so  further  light 
comes  to  be  superadded  to  that  which  is  common.  Now 
take  heed  how  you  neglect  what  a  man  teaches  you,  agree- 
ably to  that  inward  light  which  is  already(one  way  or  other) 
in  your  own  minds  and  consciences.  Hither  in  some  part, 
and  in  great  part,  we  are  to  appeal  in  our  teaching  you.  So 
the  more  early  Christian  teachers  did  ;  "  Not  handling"(say 
they)  "  the  word  of  God  deceitfully,  but  by  manifestation 
of  the  truth  commending  ourselves  to  every  man's  con- 
science in  the  sight  of  God.""  In  the  most  deeply  funda- 
mental things  that  concern  your  practice  every  day,  we 
may  appeal  to  yourselves,  and  your  own  consciences.  If 
we  say  to  you,  Ought  you  not  to  live  according  to  his  will 
that  gave  you  breath  1  should  you  not  above  all  things  fear 


f  Deut.  XXX.  1 1 ,  12,  &c.     Rom.  x.  6—8. 
g  Jam.  i.  21. 


ii  Ps.  x.^jciii.  31. 


and  love,  and  trust  and  obey,  him  that  made  you  and  all 
things  "?  Should  you  not  do  as  you  would  be  done  unto? 
Should  you  not  take  more  care  for  your  immortal  souls, 
than  for  your  mortal  flesh  1  You  must  every  one  say,  "  I 
believe  in  mine  own  conscience  this  is  so."  If  I  appeal  to 
you  in  the  very  thing  I  am  speaking  of,  should  you  not 
yield  yourselves  to  God,  whose  creatures  you  arel  I  doubt 
not  you  will  any  of  you  say,  "  1  ihmk  in  my  very  con- 
science I  should."  We  have  j'ou  witnesses  against  your- 
selves, if  you  will  not  hear  us  in  such  things.  And  again, 
it  being  a  matter  very  capable  of  plain  proof,  that  tho.se 
writings  which  we  call  the  Holy  Scriptures,  were  from 
God,  our  teaching  ought  so  far  to  be  regarded  by  you  as, 

2.  We  can  manifest  to  you  that  it  agrees  with  the 
Scriptures.  And  we  are  sure  he  will  never  teach  you  in- 
wardly against  what  he  hath  there  taught.  Will  the  God 
of  truth  say  and  unsay  the  same  thing'?  That  were  to 
overthrow  the  design  of  all  his  instructions,  and  to  subvert 
the  authority  which  he  requires  men  to  reverence.  No 
man  could  expect  to  be  regarded  on  such  terms.  And  by 
this  rule  freely  examine  all  that  we  teach  you,  as  our  Sa- 
viour directed  the  Jews  to  do,  John  v.  39.  And  for  the 
doing  whereof,  the  apostle  commended  the  Berean  Chris- 
tians, Acts  xvii.  11.  And  we  have  here  the  same  advan- 
tage at  length,  though  not  immediately,  upon  your  con- 
sciences; which  cannot  but  judge  that  whatsoever  is  found 
in  that  word  which  you  confess  to  be  divine,  must  be  most 
certainly  true.  And  if  within  such  limits  you  take  the 
help  of  men  for  your  instruction  ;  having  yielded  your- 
selves to  God  as  your  supreme  and  highest  Teacher,  you 
are  upon  safe  terms.  Only  be  sincere  in  listening  to  bis 
dictates,  whether  internal  or  external.  Let  not  a  prepos- 
sessed heart  or  vicious  inclination  be  their  interpreter ; 
"  If  any  man  will  do  his  will,  he  shall  know  oi  tlie  doc- 
trine, whether  it  be  of  God,"  &c.    John  vii.  17. 

3.  You  must  consider  God,  in  your  yielding  yourselves, 
as  your  sovereign  Ruler.  For  to  whom  you  yield  your- 
selves servants  to  obey,  his  servants  you  are  to  whom  jom 
obey,  as  by  v.  16.  Though  teaching  and  ruling  may  be 
diversely  conceived  of,  they  cannot  be  separate  in  this  case. 
The  nobler  and  final  part  of  God's  leaching  you,  is  teach- 
ing you  your  duty ;  what  3'ou  are  to  practise  and  do.  And 
so  when  he  teaches  you,  he  commands  you  too  ;  and  leaves 
it  not  arbitrary  to  you  whether  you  will  be  directed  by 
him  or  no.  What  is  his  by  former  right,  and  b}-  after- 
consent,  and  self-resignation,  shall  it  not  be  governed  by 
him  1  if  it  be  a  subject  capable  of  laws  and  government, 
as  such  consent  shows  it  to  be  3  Your  yielding  yourselves 
to  God  is  not  a  homage,  but  a  mockery,  if  you  do  it  not 
with  a  resolution  to  receive  the  law  from  his  mouth :  and 
that  whereinsoever  he  commands,  you  will  to  your  utter- 
most obey.  But  in  this  and  the  other  things  that  follow, 
my  limits  constrain  me  unto  more  brevity.  Only  let  not 
this  apprehension  of  God  be  frightful,  yea  let  it  be  amiable 
to  you,  as  in  itself  it  is,  and  cannot  but  be  to  you,  if  j'ou 
consider  the  loveliness  of  his  government,  the  kind  design 
of  it,  and  how  suitable  it  is  to  the  kindest  design ;  that  it  is 
a  government  first  and  principally  over  minds,  purposely 
intended  to  reduce  them  to  a  holy  and  peaceful  order, 
wherein  it  cannot  but  continue  them,  when  that  kinirdora 
comes  to  be  settled  there,  which  stands  in  righteousness, 
peace,  and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  all  the  laws  where- 
of are  summed  up  in  love^  being  such  also  as  in  the 
keeping  whereof  there  is  great  reward. 

4.  You  are  to  consider  him,  and  accordingly  to  yield 
vourself,  as  vour  greatest  Benefactor,  or  rather  as  your 
best  and  supreme  Good-  Indeed  3'ou  cannot  sever  his 
being  your  Ruler  trom  his  being  your  Benefactor,  (more 
than  his  being  your  Teacher  from  his  being  your  Ruler,) 
when  the  tendency  and  design  of  his  government  are 
understood.  For  it  is  a  very  principal  part  of  our  felicity 
to  be  under  his  government,  and  he  doth  you  the  great- 
est good  by  ruling  you,  when  otherwise  nothing  is  more 
evident  than  that  you  would  run  yourselves  into  the 
greatest  of  evil,  and  soon  be  most  miserable  creatures.  You 
are  now  so  far  happy  as  3'ou  are  subject  to  his  government, 
and  that  which  it  aims  at  is  to  make  you  finall-y  and  com- 
pletely happy.     For  it  is  the  design"  of  his  government, 


i  1  .''asi   xii   23. 
m  Rum.  i  18.  ii.  M. 


k  Ps.  Ixviii   IS. 
D  2  Cor.  iv.  2. 


1  Kph.  iv.  U. 


428 


YIELD  YOURSELVES  TO  GOD. 


not  only  to  regulate  your  actions  bu;  your  inclinations, 
and  principally  towards  himself.  You  have  been  alienat- 
ed from  the  life  of  God,"  were  become  strangers  to  him, 
yea  and  enemies  in  your  very  minds  ;  for  the  carnal  mind 
is  enmity  against  God.P  The  very  business  of  his  govern- 
ment is  in  the  first  place  to  alter  the  temper  of  your  minds ; 
for  continuing  carnal,  they  neither  are  subject  to  the  law 
of  God,  nor  can  be,i  as  the  same  place  tells  you.  There- 
fore if  his  government  take  place  in  you,  and  you  become 
subject,  you  become  spiritual,  the  "  law  of  the  Spirit  of 
life"'^  having  now  the  possession  and  power  of  you.  Nor 
was  it  possible  he  should  ever  be  an  effectual  Benefactor 
to  you,  without  being  thus  an  overpowering  Ruler;  so  do 
these  things  run  into  one  another.  To  let  you  have  your 
own  will,  and  follow  your  carnal  inclination,  and  cherish 
and  favour  you  in  this  course,  were  to  gratify  you  to  your 
ruin,  and  concur  with  you  to  your  being  for  ever  miser- 
able ;  which  you  may  see  plainly  if  you  will  understand 
wherein  your  true  felicity  and  blessedness  must  consist,  or 
consider  what  was  intimated  concerning  it,  in  the  propo- 
sal of  this  head  ;  that  he  is  to  be  your  Benefactor,  in  be- 
ing to  you  himself  your  supreme  and  only  satisfying  Good. 
He  never  doth  you  good  effectually  and  to  purpose,  till  he 
overcome  your  carnal  inclination.  For  while  that  remains, 
\v  ill  you  ever  mind  him  1  Can  you  love  him,  and  desire 
after  him,  or  delight  in  him  1  The  first  and  most  funda- 
mental law  which  he  lays  upon  you  is,  that  "  you  shall 
love  the  Lord  your  God  with  all  your  heart,  and  soul,  and 
mind,  and  might."  What  will  become  of  you  if  you  can- 
not obey  this  law ']  This  world  will  shortly  be  at  an  end, 
and  you  must,  'lis  like,  leave  it  sooner  ;  you  are  undone, 
if  your  hearts  be  not  beforehand  so  framed  as  that  you  can 
savour  and  take  complacency  in  a  better  and  higher  good. 
You  will  shortly  have  nothing  left  you  but  himself;  you  will 
be  plucked  away  from  your  houses,  and  lands,  and  friends, 
and  all  your  outward  comforts  ;  and  now  in  what  a  case 
are  you,  if  you  can  take  no  pleasure  or  satisfaction  in  God ! 
You  are  therefore  to  yield  up  yourself  to  him  in  full  union, 
as  with  your  most  grateful  and  delectable  Good;  with  this 
,sense  possessing  your  soul,  Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but 
thee,  or  whom  on  earth  can  I  desire  besides  thee  "?« 

And  thus  you  are  to  look  upon  God  in  your  yielding 
yourselves  to  him. — 

You  are  to  yield  yourselves  to  his  claim,  as  your  right- 
ful Owner — To  his  instruction,  as  your  undeceiving 
Teacher. — To  his  government,  as  your  gracious,  sovereign 
Ruler ;  and — To  the  enjoyment  of  him,  as  your  best  and 
most  satisfying  Good,  or  your  self-communicating  Bene- 
factor. 

But  it  also  concerns  you  to  have  distinct  and  right 
thoughts  of  the  state  of  your  case,  and  how  things  are  be- 
tween him  and  the  sons  of  men,  that  you  may  duly  apply 
yourselves  to  hira  in  so  great  a  transaction.  The  Gospel 
under  which  you  live  tells  you,  he  treats  with  men  in  and 
by  a  Mediator,  his  own  Son,  who  came  down  into  this 
wretched  world  of  oiirs,  in  great  compassion  to  our  mise- 
ries, and  took  our  nature,  was  here  on  earth  among  us  as 
an  incarnate  God ;  God  manifested  in  the  flesh.  Because 
we  were  partakers  of  flesh  and  blood,  he  took  part  with  us 
likewise  of  the  same,  and  in  that  nature  of  ours  died  for 
us,  to  make  way  that  we  might  yield  ourselves  to  God, 
and  be  accepted.  No  man  now  comes  to  the  Father  but 
by  him.t  He  must  be  acknowledged  with  great  reverence ; 
and  a  most  profound  homage  must  be  rendered  to  him. 
He  thatdenieth  the  Son  hath  not  the  Father."  And  it  be- 
ing his  pleasure  to  treat  with  us  by  his  Son,  and  the  ca.se 
requiring  that  we  apply  ourselves  to  him,  we  are  to  take 
notice  of  him  according  to  those  capacities  wherein  Scrip- 
ture represents  him  to  us.  And  it  represents  him  agree- 
ably to  those  same  notions  according  to  which  we  have 
shown  we  are  to  consider  God  the  Father  in  this  matter ; 
so  as  that  Christ  being  the  Mediator  between  him  and  us, 
when  we  yield  ourselves  to  him  ultimately,  and  finally, 
under  the  notions  that  have  been  mentioned,  we  are  first 
to  yield  ourselves  to  his  Son,  Christ  Jesus  our  Redeemer, 
under  the  like  notions.     For, 

L  Being  to  yield  ourselves  to  God  as  our  Owner,  we 
mast  know,  the  Father  hath  given  all  things  into  the  hands 


o  Eph.  iv.  18. 

q  Rom.  viii.  7,  latter  part. 


p  Col.  i".  21.  Rom.  viii.  7. 
r  Vor.  8. 


of  the  Son,  (John  xiii.  3.)  and  that  He  is  Lord  of  all ;  (Acts 
X.  36.)  which  in  the  first  sense,  signifies  him  to  be,  by  the 
Father's  constitution,  the  Owner  of  all  things,  even  as  he 
is  the  Redeemer.  For,  he  therefore  died  and  rose  again, 
that  he  might  be  Lord  of  dead  and  living ;»  i.  e.  of  both 
worlds;  agreeably  to  what  he  himself  speaks  immediate- 
ly upon  his  resurrection  from  the  dead ;  All  power  is 
given  to  me  both  in  heaven  and  earth.  Matt,  xxviii.  IS. 

And  for  those  other  notions  of  God  under  which  we 
have  shown  we  are  to  yield  ourselves  to  him,  as  our 
Teacher,  Ruler,  and  Benefactor,  they  correspond  to  thai 
threefold  oflice  of  Christ,  of  which  you  cannot  but  have 
heard  much,  viz.  of  Prophet,  King,  and  Priest;  so  that 
we  are  to  commit  ourselves  to  him,  when  we  yield  our- 
selves to  God,  as  a  Teacher  come  forth  from  God,  and  who 
reveals  him  to  us  whom  no  man  hath  seen  at  any  time ; 
as  one  that  must  reign  over  us,  and  over  the  greatest  on 
earth,  (Luke  xix.  14.  and  27.  Ps.  ii.  6 — 10.)  and  by  whom 
we  are  to  be  reconciled  to  God,  and  restored  to  the  enjoy- 
ment of  him,  Rom.  v.  11.  And  because  our  blind  minds 
and  perverse  hearts  need  light  and  grace  from  above,  to 
direct  and  incline  us  hereto,  therefore  hath  the  Spirit  of 
the  Father  and  the  Son  a  great  work  to  do  in  us  to  this 
purpose.  Whereupon  we  are  to  yield  ourselves  to  that 
blessed  Spirit  also,  as  our  Enlightener  and  Sanctifier ; 
which  our  being  directed  to  walk  in  the  Spirit,  (Gal.  v. 
25.)  and  our  being  told  that  they  that  have  not  the  Spirit 
of  Christ  are  none  of  his,  (Rom.  viii.  9.)  and,  that  as  many 
as  are  the  sons  of  God,  are  led  by  his  Spirit,  (v.  14.)  do 
plainly  show. 

You  see  then  we  are  to  yield  ourselves  to  God,  the  Fa- 
ther, Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  which  also  our  having  those 
great  names  named  upon  us  in  our  baptism  (as  we  before 
told  you)  doth  import.  And  how  necessary  all  this  is,  you 
will  see,  if, 

2.  We  consider  how  we  are  to  look  upon  ourselves  in 
this  transaction  ;  i.  e. 

1.  We  are  to  consider  ourselves  as  God's  creatures,  be- 
ing, as  you  have  heard,  to  consider  him  as  our  Creator; 
and  so  we  must  reckon  we  owe  ourselves  to  him,  and  do 
but  yield  him  what  we  owe,  and  what  was  his  before. 
For,  how  can  you  but  be  his,  who  of  his  mere  pleasuie 
hath  raised  you  out  of  nothing  ? 

2.  We  must  remember  we  have  been  apostate  creatures, 
such  as  had  fallen,  and  revolted  from  him ;  and  so  our 
yielding  ourselves  to  him,  is  a  giving  ourselves  back  to 
him,  having  injuriously  withdrawn  and  withheld  our- 
selves from  him  before.  And  because  the  injury  was  so 
great  as  we  could  never  make  any  recompense  for,  there- 
fore it  was  necessary  such  a  Mediator  should  be  appointed 
between  God  and  us,  for  whose  sake  only  we  can  expect 
to  be  accepted  when  we  yield  ourselves.  So  great  a  Ma- 
jesty was  not  to  be  approached  by  offending  creatures 
without  so  great  a  Days-man  and  Peace-maker. 

3.  We  must  consider  ourselves  as  impure,  and  every 
way  unfit  for  the  Divine  presence,  service,  and  converse, 
and  who  did  therefore  need  the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost 
to  be  put  forth  upon  us  to  make  us  fit ;  and  that  therefore 
our  case  required  we  should  put  ourselves  into  such  hands 
for  that  purpose. 

4.  We  are  to  consider  ourselves  as  under  the  Gospel, 
as  sinners  invited  and  called  back  to  God  ;  as  such  whose 
case  is  not  desperate ;  or  who  need  to  abandon  ourselves 
to  ruin,  though  we  have  greatly  offended,  as  if  there  were 
no  hope.  We  are  to  consider  ourselves  with  distinction 
from  the  condition  of  other  fallen  creatures.  The  angels 
that  fell,  and  kept  not  their  first  station,  have  no  Gospel 
sent  to  them  to  invite  them  back,  and  persuade  them  again 
to  yield  themselves  to  God;  you  have.  Into  what  a 
transport  should  this  thought  put  you !  how  should  it 
mollify  you  !  oh  what  a  yielding  temper  and  disposition 
of  spirit  should  it  work  in  you  towards  this  gracious  call, 
and  just  challenge,  which  the  great  God  now  gives  you, 
and  makes  unto  you ! 

Sermon  II.  Thus  far  then  you  see  how  you  are  to  con- 
sider God  and  yourselves  in  this  your  yielding  yourselves 
to  him.    You  are  now  next  to  consider. 


s  Ps.Iyxiii.  25. 
u  I  John  ii  23. 


t  John  xiv.  6. 
X  Rom.  xiv.  9. 


YIELD  YOURSELVES    TO  GOD. 


429 


2.  What  your  yielding  yourselves  to  God  according  to 
such  considerations  must  include,  or  be  accompanied  with. 
For  it  is  not  reasonable  to  think  you  have  no  more  to  mind 
in  this  matter,  than  only  what  is  contained  in  the  bare  ab- 
stract nature  of  such  an  act ;  but  looking  upon  your  case 
in  its  circumstances,  and  considering  the  state  of  things 
between  God  and  you,  it  greatly  concerns  you  to  see  to  it, 
that  the  matter  be  suitably  carried  to  this  state  of  your  case. 
Whereupon, 

L  Your  yielding  yourselves  to  God  must  be  accompa- 
nied with  very  deep  and  serious  repentance.  'Tis  a  most 
penitential  surrender  yon  are  now  to  make  of  yourselves 
to  him ;  for  you  are  to  remember  that  you  are  but  now 
coming  back  out  of  a  state  of  apostacy  from  your  sovereign 
and  most  rightful  Lord.  Yea,  though  you  are  but  renew^- 
ing  your  surrender  of  yourselves,  having  done  somewhat 
herein  before,  you  are  yet  to  consider  this  wa-s  your  case ; 
and  perhaps  some  never  have  yet  seriously  thought  of  any 
such  thing,  but  lived  in  this  world  hitherto  as  if  you  were 
j'-Qur  own,  and  there  were  no  Lord  over  you:  O  then  with 
what  inward  remorse,  with  what  brokenness  of  heart,  with 
what  relentings  and  self-accusings,  should  this  thing  now 
be  done !  You  should  come,  smiting  upon  the  thigh,  and 
saying  within  yourselves,  "What  have  I  donel  So  long, 
Lord,  have  I  lived  in  this  world  of  thine,  which  thou 
madest,  and  not  I,  as  if  I  might  do  in  it,  and  with  myself, 
what  I  pleased  !  I  have  usurped  upon  tliy  unquestionable 
right  in  me,  have  lived  to  myself,  and  not  to  thee ;  I  am 
now  convinced  that  this  was  a  very  undutiful,  unlawful 
wa3'  of  living."  Let  him  hear  you  (as  he  once  heard 
Ephraim,  or  shall  do)  bemoaning  yourselves,  and  saying, 
"  Turn  me  and  I  shall  be  turned;  thou  art  the  Lord  my 
God,"y  &c.  How  can  you  think  of  yielding  yourselves 
now  at  length  to  God,  without  being  deeply  sensible  of 
your  having  deferred  it  so  long,  and  that  you  have  not  done 
it  sooner;  and  how  great  the  iniquity  was  of  your  former 
course;  that  you  have  all  this  while  committed  a  con- 
tinual robbery  upon  him  that  gave  you  breath  1  Will  a 
man  rob  God  ?  And  if  you  say.  Wherein  have  I  robbed 
him  ■?  You  have  robbed  him  of  yourself;  a  greater  thing 
than  of  tithes  and  offerings;  and  this  robbery  was  sacri- 
lege. For  every  thing  due  and  devoted  to  God,  hath  a 
sacredness  upon  it;  and  consider,  were  you  not,  upon  his 
just  claim,  in  your  baptism  devoted  to  him  ?  How  should 
this  startle  you !  you  have  constantly  alienated  from  him 
a  sacred  thing!  You  have  been  in  a  continual  contest 
with  him  about  one  of  the  highest  rights  of  his  sovereignty, 
yea  and  of  his  Godhead,  for  to  that,  nothing  is  more  pecu- 
liar, than  to  be  Lord  of  all.  So  that  the  controversy  between 
him  and  you  hath  been,  Who  shall  be  Godi  You  have 
refused  him  his  own  creature.  How  high  a  crime  was 
this !  Know  then  you  have  been  a  great  transgressor,  a 
grievous  revolter,  and  now  therefore  yield  yourself  lo  him 
with  a  melting,  broken  heart,  or  you  do  nothing. 

2.  It  must  be  done  wiih  great  deliberation;  not  as  the 
mere  eflect  of  a  sudden  fri^jht.  What  is  done  in  a  rash 
haste,  may  be  as  soon  undone.  Leisurely  consider,  and 
take  the  whole  compass  of  the  case ;  weigh  with  \'ourselves 
the  mentioned  grounds  upon  which  you  are  to  yield  your- 
selves, and  the  ends  you  are  to  do  it  for,  that  things  may 
beset  right  between  him  and  you,  that  you  ma v  return 
into  your  own  natural  place  and  .station,  that  you  may 
be  again  stated  in  that  subordination  to  j'^our  sovereign 
Lord  which  filly  belongs  to  you ;  that  he  mav  have  his 
right  which  he  claims,  and  you  the  mercy  which  you  need. 
Here  is  place  for  much  consideration.  And  when  Israel 
is  complained  of  as  less  willing  to  acknowledge  God  for 
his  Owner  and  Master,  than  the  ox  and  ass  were  to  ac- 
knowledge theirs,  all  this  is  resolved  into  this,  that  the 
people  did  not  consider,  Isa.  i. 

3.  It  must  be  done  with  judgment,  which  is  the  effect 
of  such  consideration.  When  all  things  have  been  well 
weighed  that  belongs  to  this  case,  then  let  this  formed  judg- 
ment pass,  "Lord,  I  ought  to  be  thine,  and  no  other's." 
Say  to  him  hereupon,  with  a  convinced  judgment  and  con- 
science, "  O  God,  I  surrender  m3'self,  as  now  seeing  none 
hath  that  right  in  me  that  thou  hast."  When  the  love 
of  Christ  becomes  constraining  upon  souls,  it  is  because 
Ihey  thus  judge,   that  they  ought  no  longer   to  live  to 

y  Jer.  xxxi.  13, 19. 


themselves,  but  to  him,  &c.  2  Cor.  v.  14,  15.  These 
things  last  mentioned  will  imply  a  rectified  mind,  which 
must  be  ingredient  into  this  transaction,  else  it  will  be  de- 
fective throughout. 

4.  It  mu.st  be  done  with  a  fulness  of  consent;  and  herein 
it  chiefly  consists,  when  the  soul  says,  "Lord,  I  Eim  now 
most  entirely  willing  to  be  thine."  This  is  your  yielding 
yourselves.  And  hereby  the  covenant  is  struck  between 
God  and  you;  which  consists  in  the  expressed  consent  of 
the  parties  covenanting  in  the  matters  about  which  the  co- 
venant is.  This  covenant  is  about  the  parlies  themselves 
who  covenant,  as  the  conjugal  covenant  is,  which  resem- 
bles it ;  viz.  that  they  shall  be  one  another's.  God  hath 
expressed  his  consent  in  his  word  and  Gospel,  making 
therein  the  first  overture  to  you.  When  you  rejoin  your 
own  consent,  the  thing  is  done  ;  this  being  the  sum  of  his 
covenant,  "  I  will  be  your  God,  and  you  shall  be  my  peo- 
ple," as  in  many  places  of  Scripture  it  is  gathered  up. 
When  therefore,  as  God  hath  openly  testified  his  willing- 
ness to  be  their  God  who  shall  accept  and  lake  him  to  be 
so,  you  also  are  willing,  and  do  consent  too,  you  do  now 
lake  hold  on  his  covenant,  matters  are  agreed  between  him 
and  you ;  and  you  may  take  those  words  as  spoken  to  you 
particularly,  I  have  entered  into  covenant  with  thee,  and 
thou  art  become  mine,  Ezek.  xvi.  8.  But  then  you  must 
take  notice  that  this  is  lo  be  done  wiih  a-fvll  consent,  which 
that  is  said  lo  be  which  determines  you,  though  it  be  not 
absolutely  perfect.  No  grace  in  any  faculty  is  perfect  in 
this  life.  But  as  in  human  afiairs,  that  will  is  said  to  be 
full,  which  is  the  spring  of  answerable,  following  actions, 
so  it  is  here.  If  a  man  have  some  inclination  to  this  or  that, 
and  do  it  not,  it  goes  for  nothing ;  if  he  do  it,  his  will  is  said 
to  be  full,  though  he  have  some  remaining  disinclination. 
You  may  be  said  to  yield  yourselves  to  God,  with  a  full 
consent,  when  you  live  afterwards  as  one  devoted  to  him. 

5.  Your  yielding  yourselves  to  God  must  carr}'  life  in  it, 
as  the  following  words  signify;  "Yield  yourselves  to  God, 
as  those  that  are  alive  from  the  dead."  It  must  be  a  vital 
act,  and  have  vigour  in  it.  You  must  be  capable  of  making 
that  true  judgment  of  your  case,  as  'tisr.  11.  "of  reckoning 
truly  that  you  are  dead  lo  sin,  but  alive  to  God  through 
Jesus  Christ."  Do  it  as  feeling  life  to  spring  in  j'our  souls 
towards  God  in  j'our  yielding  yourselves  to  him.  What ! 
will  you  offer  God  a  carcass  1  not  the  "living  sacrifice," 
which  you  see  is  required,  Rom.  xii.  1.  Beg  earnestly  for 
his  own  Spirit  of  life  and  power,  that  may  enable  you  to 
offer  up  a  living  soul  to  the  living  God. 

6.  There  must  be  faith  in  j'our  yielding  yourselves. 
For  it  is  a  committing  or  intrusting  yourselves  to  God, 
with  the  expectation  of  being  saved  and  made  happy  by 
him.  So  Scripture  speaks  of  it,  2  Tim.  ii.  12.  I  know 
whom  I  have  believed,  (or  trusted,)  and  that  he  is  able  to 
keep  what  I  have  committed  to  him  against  that  day. 
'Tis  suitable  to  the  gracious  nature  of  God,  to  his  excellent 
greatness,  to  his  design,  to  the  mediatorship  of  his  Son,  to 
his  promise  and  gospel-covenant,  and  to  your  own  neces- 
sities, and  the  exigency  of  your  own  lost,  undone  state, 
that  j-^ou  so  yield  3''ourselves  to  him,  as  a  poor  creature 
read^''  lo  perish,  expecting,  not  for  your  sake  but  his  own, 
to  be  accepted,  and  to  find  mercy  with  him.  You  do  him 
the  honour  which  he  seeks,  and  which  is  most  worthv  of 
a  God,  the  most  excellent,  and  a  self-sufficient  Being,  when 
you  do  thus.  You  answer  the  intendment  of  the  whole 
gospel-constitution,  which  bears  this  inscription,  To  the 
praise  of  the  slory  of  his.  grace,  tf-c.  'Tis  honourable  to  him 
when  you  take  his  word,  that  they  that  believe  in  his  Son, 
shall  not  perish  but  have  everlasting  life.  You  herein  set 
to  your  seal  that  he  is  true,  and  the  more  fully,  and  with 
the  more  significancy,  when  upon  the  credit  of  it  you  yield 
yourselves,  with  an  assurance  that  he  will  not  destroy  or 
reject  a  poor  creature  that  yields  to  him,  and  casts  itself 
upon  his  mercy. 

7.  Another  ingredient  into  this  yielding  of  yourselves 
must  be  love.  As  faith,  in  your  yielding  yourselves  to 
God,  aims  at  your  own  welfare  and  salvation,  so  love,  in 
doing  it,  intends  his  service,  and  all  the  duty  to  him  you 
are  capable  of  doing  him.  You  must  be  able  to  give  this 
as  the  true  reason  of  your  act,  and  lo  resolve  it  into  this 
principle ;  "  I  yield  myself  to  God,  because  I  love  him, 


430 


YIELD  YOURSELVES  TO  GOD. 


and  from  the  unfeigned  love  I  bear  to  him ;  to  tell  the 
world,  if  there  were  occasion,  he  hath  captivated  my  heart 
with  his  excellencies  and  his  love,  and  hereupon,  having 
nothing  else,  I  tender  myself  to  him ;  to  tell  himself,  "  Lord, 
thou  knowest  all  things,  thou  knowest  that  I  love  thee ; 
and  because  I  do,  I  present  myself  to  thee ;  'tis  all  I  can 
do.  I  wish  myself  ten  thousand  times  better  for  thy 
bles!5ed  sake ;  and  if  I  had  in  me  all  the  excellencies  of 
many  thousand  angels,  I  were  too  mean  a  thing,  and  such 
as  nothing  but  thy  own  goodness  could  count  worthy  thine 
acceptance;  because  I  love  thee  I  covet  to  be  near  thee, 
I  covet  to  be  thine,  I  covet  to  lead  my  life  with  thee,  to 
dwell  in  thy  presence ;  far  be  it  from  me  to  be  as  without 
thee  in  the  world  as  heretofore.  I  love  thee,  O  Lord,  my 
strength,  because  thine  own  perfections  highly  deserve  it, 
and  because  thou  hast  heard  my  voice,  and  hast  delivered 
my  soul  from  death,  mine  eyes  from  tears,  and  my  feet 
from  falling,  and  I  yield  myself  to  thee,  because  1  love 
thee.  I  make  an  offer  of  myself  to  be  thy  servant,  thy 
servant,  O  Lord,  thou  hast  loosed  my  bonds ;  and  now  I 
desire  to  bind  myself  in  new  ones  to  thee,  that  are  never  to 
be  loosed."  And  you  can  make  no  doubt  but  that  it  ought 
to  be  done  therefore  with  dispositions  and  a  temper  suitable 
to  the  state  you  are  now  willing  to  come  into,  that  of  a  de- 
voted servant;  viz. 

8.  With  great  reverence  and  humility.  For,  consider  to 
whom  you  are  tendering  yourself;  to  the  "high  and  lofty 
One  that  inhabiteth  eternity ;"  to  him  that  hath  heaven  for 
his  throne,  and  earth  for  his  footstool;  and  in  comparison 
of  whom  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  world  are  but  as  grass- 
hoppers, and  the  nations  of  the  earth  as  the  drop  of  a  bucket, 
and  the  dust  of  the  balance,  &c.  Yea,  to  him  against  whom 
you  have  sinned,  and  before  whose  pure  eyes  you  cannot, 
in  yourself,  but  appear  most  offensively  impure;  so  that 
you  have  reason  to  be  ashamed,  and  blush  to  lift  up  your 
eyes  before  him. 

9.  And  yet  it  surely  ought  to  be  with  great  jov  and 
gladness  of  heart,  that  he  hath  expressed  himself  willing  to 
accept  such  as  you,  and  that  he  hath  made  you  willing  to 
yield  yourselves.  The  very  thought  should  make  your 
heart  leap  and  spring  within  you,  that  he  should  ever  have 
bespoken  such  as  we  are  to  yield  ourselves  to  him,  when 
he  might  have  neglected  us,  and  let  us  wander  endlessly, 
without  ever  looking  after  us  more.  How  should  it  glad 
your  hearts  this  day,  to  hav^e  such  a  message  brought 
you  from  the  great  God,  and  which  you  find  is  written  in 
his  own  word,  to  yield  yourselves  to  him !  Should  not 
your  hearts  answer  with  wonder;  "And,  blessed  Lord! 
art  thou  willing  again  to  have  to  do  with  us,  who  left  thee 
having  no  cause,  and  who  returning  can  be  of  no  use  to 
thee!"  O  blessed  be  God,  that  we  may  yield  ourselves 
back  unto  him  !  that  we  are  invited  and  encouraged  to  it. 
And  you  have  cause  to  bless  God,  and  rejoice,  if  this  day 
you  feel  your  heart  willing  to  yield  yourselves  to  him,  and 
become  his.  Do  you  indeed  find  yourselves  willing  1 
You  are  willing  in  the  day  of  his  power.^  This  is  the  day 
of  his  power  upon  your  hearts.  Many  are  called  and 
refuse;  he  often  stretches  out  his  hands,  and  no  man  re- 
gards.* Perhaps  you  have  been  called  upon  often  before 
this  day  to  do  this  same  thing,  and  neglected  it,  had  no 
heart  to  it;  and  he  might  have  said  to  you,  "  Now  I  will 
never  treat  with  you  more;  if  you  should  call,  I  will  not 
hear ;  if  you  stretch  out  your  hands,  I  will  not  regard  it, 
but  laugh  at  your  destruction,  and  mock  when  your  fear 
Cometh."  But  if  now  he  is  pleased  to  call  once  more, 
your  hearts  do  answer;  "  Lord,  here  we  are,  we  are  now^ 
ready  to  surrender  ourselves;"  you  may  conclude  he  hath 
poured  out  his  Spirit  upon  you.  The  Spirit  of  the  Lord 
is  now  moving  upon  this  a.ssembly,  this  is  indeed  a  joyful 
day,  the  d.iy  which  he  hath  himself  made,  and  you  ou2l?t 
to  rejoice  and  be  glad  in  it.t  When  the  people  in  David's 
days  offered  of  their  substance  to  God  for  the  service  of  his 
house,  'tis  said.  The  people  rejoiced  for  that  they  offered 
willingly:  and  David,  we  are  told,  blessed  God  before 
all  the  congregation — saying.  Thine,  O  Lord,  is  the  great- 
ness and  the  power — But  who  am  I,  and  what  is  my 
people,  that  we  should  be  able  to  offer  so  willingly  after 
this  sortl  for  all  things  come  of  thee  and  of  thine  own 

z  Psal  c\.  3.  a  Prov.  i.  24.  b  Psal.  cxviii. 

c  1  Chroii.  xxix.  9. 


have  we  given  theci^  If  you  are  this  day  willing  to  ofler 
yourselves,  how  much  is  this  a  greater  thing !  and  it 
comes  of  him,  and  'tis  of  his  own  you  are  now  giving  him ; 
for  he  had  a  most  unquestionable  right  in  you  before. 

10.  You  should  do  it  with  solemnity .d  For  have  you 
ever  had  a  business  of  greater  importance  to  transact  in  all 
your  days  1  If  you  were  to  dispose  of  an  estate,  or  a  child, 
would  you  not  have  all  things  be  as  express  and  clear  as 
may  be?  and  would  they  not  insist  to  have  it  so,  with 
whom  you  deal  in  any  such  afl^air?  And  is  there  not  a 
solemnity  belonging  to  all  such  transactions'?  especially  if 
you  were  to  dispose  of  yourself  1  as  in  the  conjugal  cove- 
nant ;  though  that  is  to  be  but  for  this  short  uncertain  time 
of  life ;  so  as  that  the  relation  you  enter  into  to-day,  may 
be  by  death  dissolved  and  broken  off  again  to-morrow ; 
how  much  more  explicit,  clear,  and  solemn,  should  this 
your  covenanting  with  God  in  Christ  be,  wherein  you  are 
to  make  over  your  soul  to  him,  and  for  eternity"?  You  are 
to  become  his,  under  the  bond  of  an  everlasting  covenant. 
You  are  entering  a  relation  never  to  be  broken  off.  This 
God  is  to  be  your  God  for  ever  and  ever,  and  upon  the 
same  terms  you  are  to  be  his.  Is  your  immortal  soul  of 
less  account  with  you  than  the  temporal  concernments  of 
a  mortal  child  that  you  are  placing  out  but  for  a  term  ol 
years  that  soon  expires!  yea,  or  than  a  piece  of  ground,  or 
a  horse,  or  a  sheep,  about  which  how  punctual  and  express 
are  your  bargains  and  contracts  wont  to  be  1  Or  are  only 
the  matters  of  your  soul,  and  wherein  you  have  to  do  with 
the  great  God,  to  be  slightly  managed,  or  to  be  huddled  up 
in  confusion,  or  to  be  slid  over  in  silent  intimations  1  'Tis 
true,  that  so  express  and  solemn  dealing  in  yielding  and 
giving  up  yourselves  to  God,  is  not  needful  on  his  part, 
who  understands  sincerity  without  any  expression  of 
yours  ;  but  'tis  needful  on  your  part,  that  a  deep  and  last- 
ing impression  may  be  made  upon  your  spirits ;  which  it 
you  be  sincere,  you  will  not  only  feel  yourselves  to  need, 
but  your  own  temper  and  inclination  will  prompt  you  to 
it;  accounting  you  can  never  be  under  bonds  strong  and 
sure  enough  to  him.  You  will  not  only  apprehend  neces- 
sity, but  will  relish  and  taste  pleasure  in  any  such  trans- 
action with  the  blessed  God,  in  avouching  him  to  be  your 
God,  and  yourself  to  be  his.  The  more  solemn  it  is,  the 
more  grateful  it  will  be  to  you. 

Do  so  then.  Fall  before  his  throne;  prostrate  yourself 
at  his  footstool;  and  having  chosen  your  fit  season,  when 
nothing  may  interrupt  you;  and  having  shut  up  yourself 
with  him,  pour  out  your  soul  to  him  ;  tell  him  you  are  now 
come  on  purpose  to  offer  yourselves  to  him  as  his  own. 

0  that  you  would  not  let  this  night  pass  without  doing  so ! 
Tell  him  you  have  too  long  neglected  him,  and  forgotten 
to  whom  j^ou  belonged ;  humbly  beseech  him  for  his  par- 
don, and  that  he  will  now  accept  of  you,  for  your  Re- 
deemer's sake,  as  being  through  his  grace  resolved  never 
to  live  so  great  a  stranger  to  him,  or  be  such  a  wanderer 
from  him  more.  And  when  you  have  done  so,  remember 
the  time;  let  it  be  with  you  a  noted  memorable  day,  as 
you  would  be  sure  to  keep  the  day  in  memory  when  you 
became  such  a  one's  servant,  or  tenant,  or  your  marriage 
day.  Renew  this  your  agreement  with  God  often,  but 
forget  it  never.  Perhaps  some  may  say,  "  But  what  needs 
all  this?"  were  we  not  once  devoted  and  given  up  to  God 
in  baptism?  and  is  not  that  sufficient!  To  what  purpose 
should  we  do  again  a  thing  that  hath  once  been  so  solemnly 
done. 

But  here  I  desire  you  to  consider.  Are  you  never  to  be- 
come the  Lord's  by  your  own  choice?  Are  you  always  to 
be  Christians  only  by  another's  Christianity,  not  by  your 
own  ?  And  again,  have  you  not  broken  your  baptismal 
vow?  have  you  not  forgot  it  for  the  most  part  ever  since? 

1  am  afraid  too  many  never  think  of  any  such  matter  at 
all,  that  ever  they  were  devoted  to  God  by  others,  but  only 
upon  such  an  occasion  as  this,  to  make  it  an  excuse  that 
they  may  never  do  such  a  thing  themselves.  And  consider, 
were  these  Christian  Romans  on  whom  the  apostle  presses 
this  duty  never  baptized,  think  you?  Read  over  the  fore- 
going part  of  the  chapter,  wherein  you  find  him  putting 
them  in  mind  that  they  had  been  baptized  into  Christ's 
death,  and  buried  with  "him  in  baptism,  and  that  therefore 

d  See  the  treatise  of  Self-dedication. 


YIELD  YOURSELVES  TO  GOD. 


431 


this  was  to  be  an  argument  to  them  why  they  should  yield 
themselves  to  God ;  not  why  they  should  not.  Whereloi e 
our  way  is  now  plain  and  open  to  what  we  are  further  to 
do,  viz. 

2.  To  apply  this  practical  doctrine,  and  press  the  pre- 
cept further  upon  you,  which  hath  been  opened  to  you,  and 
pressed  by  parts  in  some  measure  already,  in  our  insist- 
ing on  the  several  heads,  which  you  have  seen  do  belong 
to  it;  and  are  one  way  or  other  comprehended  in  it. 
Which  will  therefore  make  this  latter  part  of  our  work  the 
shorter,  and  capable  of  being  despatched  in  the  fewer 
words  ;  and  with  blessed  effect,  if  the  Spirit  of  the  living 
God  shall  vouch.safe  to  co-operate,  and  deal  with  your 
hearts  and  mine.  Shall  we  then  all  agree  upon  this  thing? 
Shall  we  unite  in  one  resolution,  "  We  will  be  the  Lord's." 
Shall  everyone  say  in  his  own  heart,  "  For  my  part,  I  will, 
and  so  will  I,  and  so  will  I V  Come  now,  one  and  all. 
This  is  no  unlawful  confederacy,  'tis  a  blessed  combina- 
tion !  Come  then,  let  us  join  ourselves  to  the  Lord  in  a 
perpetual  covenant,  not  to  be  forgotten.  <=  With  whatso- 
ever after-solemnity  you  may  renew  this  obligation  and 
bond  of  God  upon  your  souls,  as  I  hope  you  will  do  it, 
every  one  apart,  in  your  closets,  or  in  any  corner,  and  you 
cannot  do  it  too  fully,  or  too  often  ;  yet  let  us  now  all  re- 
solve the  thing;  and  this  assembly  make  a  joint-surrender 
and  oblation  of  itself  to  the  great  God  our  sovereign  right- 
ful Lord,  through  our  blessed  Redeemer  and  Mediator,  by 
the  eternal  Spirit,  (which  I  hope  is  breathing  and  at  work 
among  us,)  as  one  living  sacrifice,  as  all  of  us  alive  from 
the  dead,  to  be  for  ever  sacred  to  him !  O  blessed  assem- 
bly !  O  happy  act  and  deed  !  With  how  grateful  and  well 
pleasing  an  odour  will  the  kindness  and  duiifulne.ss  of  this 
offering  ascend,  and  he  received  above !  God  will  accept, 
heaven  will  rejoice,  angels  will  concur,  and  gladly  fall  in 
with  us.  We  hereby  adjoin  ourselves  in  relation,  and  in 
heart  and  spirit,  "  to  the  general  assembly,  to  the  church 
of  the  first-born  ones  written  in  heaven,  to  the  innumera- 
ble company  of  angels,  and  to  the  spirits  of  just  men  made 
perfect,"  and  within  a  little  while  shall  be  actually  among 
them.  Is  it  possible  there  should  be  now  among  us  any 
dissenting  vote  7     Consider, 

1.  'Tis  a  plain  and  unquestionable  thing  you  are  pressed 
unto  :  a  thing  that  admits  of  no  dispute,  and  against  which 
you  have  nothing  to  say,  and  about  which  you  cannot  but 
be  already  convinced.  And  'tis  a  matter  full  of  danger, 
and  upon  which  tremendous  consequences  depend,  to  go 
on  in  any  practice,  or  in  any  neglect,  against  a  conviction 
of  judgment  and  conscience.  For  your  own  heart  and 
conscience  mxist  condemn  you  if  you  consider,  and  it  be- 
trays you  if  you  consider  not.  How  learful  a  thing  is  it  for 
a  man  to  carry  his  own  doom  in  his  own  bosom  !  to  go  up 
and  down  the  world  with  a  self-condemning  heart,  if  it 
be  awake,  and  which  if  it  be  not,  yet  cannot  sleep  always, 
and  must  awake  with  the  greater  terror  at  length.  And 
in  so  plain  case  'tis  most  certainly  God's  deputy,  and 
speaks  his  mind  :  If  our  hearts  condemn  us,  God  is  great- 
er than  our  hearts,  f  &c. 

2.  'Tis  that  therefore  the  refusal  whereof  none  of  you 
would  avow.  Who  among  us  can  have  the  confidence  to 
stand  forth  and  say,  I  will  be  none  of  the  Lord's  1  Would 
any  man  be  content  to  go  with  this  written  upon  his  fore- 
head from  day  to  day  1  And  doth  not  that  signify  such  a 
refusal  to  be  a  shameful  thing  "?  That  must  needs  be  an 
ill  temper  of  mind  which  one  would  be  ashamed  any  one 
should  know. 

3.  And  'tis  a  mean  thing  to  dissemble,  to  be  willing  to 
be  thought  and  coimted  what  we  are  not,  or  do  what  in 
truth  we  do  not. 

4.  And  considering  what  inspection  we  are  under,  'tis  a 
vain  thing.  For  do  we  not  know  that  "  eyes  which  are  as 
a  flame  of  fire,"  behold  us,  and  pierce  into  our  very  souls  1 
Do  we  not  know  "  all  things  in  us  are  naked  and  manifest 

c  Jer.  I.  6.  fl  Jobniii.  20. 


to  him  with  whom  we  have  to  do  V  s  and  that  he  discerns 
it,  if  there  be  any  heart  among  us  that  is  not  sincere  in 
this  thing  1 

5.  Consider  that  this  is  the  very  design  of  the  Gospel 
you  live  under.  What  doth  it  signify  or  intend,  but  to 
recall  apostate  creatures  back  again  to  God  1  What  is  the 
Christian  religion  you  profess,  but  a  state  of  devotedne.ss 
to  God,  under  the  conduct  and  through  the  mediation  of 
Christ  1  You  frustrate  the  Gospel,  and  make  your  religion 
a  nullity  and  an  empty  name,  till  you  do  this. 

6.  And  how  will  you  lift  up  your  heads  at  last  in  the 
great  day"?  and  before  this  God  the  Judge  of  all  1  You 
cannot  now  plead  ignorance.  If  perhaps  any  among  you 
have  not  been  formerly  so  expressly  called,  and  urged  to 
this  yielding  yourselves  to  God  ;  now  you  are:  and  from 
his  own  plain  word  'tis  charged  upon  you.  Will  not  this 
be  remembered  hereafter  "?  What  will  you  say  when  the 
great  God,  whose  creature  you  are,  speaks  to  you  with  a 
voice  of  thunder,  and  bids  you  gird  up  your  loins,  and 
give  him  an  answer  1  "  Were  you  not,  on  such  a  day,  in 
such  a  place,  demanded  and  claimed  in  my  name  1  Were 
you  not  told,  were  you  not  convinced,  you  ought  to  yield 
yourselves  to  me  1  and  yet  you  did  it  not.  Are  you  pre- 
pared to  contest  with  your  Maker  1  Where  is  your  right, 
where  is  your  power,  to  stand  against  me  in  this  contest  V 

7.  But  if  you  sincerely  yield  yourselves,  the  main  con- 
troversy is  at  an  end  between  the  great  God  and  you.  All 
your  former  sins  are  pardoned  and  done  away  at  once. 
Those  glad  tidings  you  have  often  heard  that  import  no- 
thing but  "glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  peace  on  earth, 
and  good  will  towards  men,"  plainly  show  that  the  great 
God  whom  you  had  offended,  hath  no  design  to  destroy 
you,  but  only  to  make  you  yield,  and  give  him  back  his 
own.  Though  you  have  formerly  lived  a  wandering  life, 
and  been  as  a  vagabond  on  the  earth  from  your  true  owner, 
it  will  be  all  forgotten.  How  readily  was  the  returning 
prodigal  received  !  and  so  will  you.  How  quiet  rest  will 
you  have  this  night,  when  upon  such  terms  there  is  a  re- 
conciliation between  God  and  )'ou  !  You  have  given  him 
his  own,  and  he  is  pleased,  and  most  of  all  for  this,  that  he 
hath  you  now  to  save  you.  Y'ou  were  his  to  destroy  be- 
fore, now  you  are  his  to  save.  He  could  easily  destroy  3'ou 
against  your  will,  but  'tis  only  with  your  will,  he  having 
made  you  willing,  that  he  must  save  you.  And  his  bid- 
ding you  yield,  implies  his  willingness  to  do  so.  O  how 
much  of  Gospel  is  there  in  this  invitation  to  you  to  yield 
yourselves  to  God  !  consider  it  as  the  voice  of  grace.  Will 
he  that  bids  a  poor  wretch  yield  itself,  reject  or  destroy 
when  it  doth  so  1 

8.  And  how  happily  may  you  now  live  the  rest  of  your 
days  in  this  world.  You  will  live  under  his  care,  for  will 
he  not  take  care  of  his  own,  those  that  are  of  his  own 
house  1  An  infidel  would.  You  are  now  of  his  family, 
under  his  immediate  government,  and  under  his  continual 
blessing.  And  were  you  now  to  give  an  account  where 
you  have  been  to-day,  and  what  you  have  been  doing ;  if 
you  sa}',  you  have  engaged  this  da}'  in  a  solemn  treaty 
with  the  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth,  about  yielding  your- 
selves to  him  ;  and  it  be  further  asked,  "Well,  and  what 
was  the  issue  *?  Have  you  agreed  1"  Must  you,  any  of  you, 
be  obliged  by  the  truth  of  the  case  to  say,  "  No  7"  Aston- 
ishing answer !  What!  hast  thou  been  treating  with  the 
great  God,  the  God  of  thy  life,  and  not  agreed  "?  What, 
man!  did  he  demand  of  thee  any  unreasonable  thing? 
"  Only  to  yield  myself."  Why,  that  was  in  all  the  world 
the  most  reasonable  thing.  Wretched  creature,  whither 
now  wilt  thou  go?  What  wilt  thou  do  with  thyself? 
Where  wilt  thou  lay  thy  hated  head  ?  But  if  you  can  say, 
"  Blessed  be  God,  I  gladl\-  agreed  to  the  proposal ;  he  gave 
me  the  grace  not  to  deny  him  :"  then  may  it  be  said  this 
was  a  good  daj^'s  work,  and  you  will  have  cause  to  bless 
God  for  this  day  as  long  as  you  have  a  day  to  live. 

g  Heb.  iv.  la. 


THE 

REDEEMER'S    TEARS 

WEPT  OVER  LOST  SOULS. 

A  TREATISE  ON  LUKE  XIX.  41,  42. 

WITH     AN     APPENDIX, 


WHEREIN  SOMEWHAT  IS  OCCASIONALLY    DISCOURSED,  CONCERNING  THE  BLASPHEMY  AGAINST  THE  HOLY  GHOST,  AND 
HOW  GOD  IS  SAID  TO  WILL  THE  SALVATION  OF  THEM  THAT  PERISH. 


PREFACE. 

When  spiritual  judgments  do  more  eminently  befall  a  people,  great  outward  calamities  do  often  ensue.  We  know 
it  was  so  in  the  instance  which  the  text  here  insisted  on  refers  to.  But  it  is  not  always  so;  the  connexion  between 
these  two  sorts  of  judgments  is  not  absolutely  certain  and  necessary,  yea,  and  is  more  frequent  with  the  contraries 
of  each.  For  this  reason  therefore,  and  because  judgments  of  the  former  kind  are  so  unexpressibly  greater,  and  more 
tremendous,  this  discourse  insists  only  upon  them,  about  which  serious  monitions  both  have  a  clearer  ground,  and 
are  of  greater  importance  ;  and  wholly  waives  the  latter. 

Too  many  are  apt  first  to  fancy  similitudes  between  the  state  of  things  with  one  people  and  another,  and  then  to 
draw  inferences ;  being  perhaps  imposed  on  by  a  strong  imagination  in  both ;  which  yet  must  pass  with  them  for  a 
spirit  of  prophecy,  and  perhaps  they  take  it  not  well,  if  it  do  not  so  with  others  too.  It  were  indeed  the  work  of  an- 
other prophet  certainly  to  accommodate  and  make  application  of  what  was  spoken  by  a  former  to  a  distinct  time  and 
people.  'Tis  enough  for  us  to  learn  from  such  sayings  as  this  of  our  Saviour,  those  rules  of  life  and  practice,  such 
instruction  and  cautions  as  are  common  to  all  times,  without  arrogating  to  ourselves  his  prerogative,  of  foretelling 
events  that  shall  happen  in  this  or  that.  The  affectation  of  venturing  upon  futurity,  and  foreboding  direful  things  to 
kingdoms  and  nations,  may,  besides  its  being  without  sufficient  ground,  proceed  from  some  or  other  very  bad  principle. 
Dislike  of  the  present  methods  of  Providence,  weariness  and  impatiency  of  our  present  condition,  too  great  proneness 
to  wish  what  we  take  upon  us  to  predict,  the  prediction  importing  more  heat  of  anger  than  certainty  of  foresight,  a 
wrathful  spirit,  that  would  presently  fetch  down  fire  from  heaven  upon  sxich  as  favour  not  our  inclinations  and  de- 
sires, so  that  (as  the  poet  speaks)  whole  cities  should  be  overturned  at  our  request,  if  the  heavenly  powers  would 
be  so  easy,  as  to  comply  with  such  furious  imprecations :  a  temper  that  ill  agrees  with  humanity  itself,  not  to  care 
at  what  rate  of  common  calamity  and  misery  a  purchase  be  made  of  our  own  immunity  from  sufiierings.  Nay,  to  be 
willing  to  run  the  most  desperate  hazard  in  the  case,  and  even  covet  a  general  ruin  to  others,  upon  a  mere  apprehend- 
ed possibility  that  our  case  may  be  mended  by  it ;  when  it  may  be  more  probable  to  become  much  worse.  But  O  how 
disagreeable  is  it  to  the  Spirit  of  our  merciful  Lord  and  Saviour,  whose  name  we  bear,  upon  any  terms  to  delight  in 
human  miseries !  The  greatest  honour  men  of  that  complexion  are  capable  of  doing  the  Christian  name,  were  to 
disclaim  it.  Can  such  angry  heats  have  place  in  Christian  breasts,  as  shall  render  them  the  well-pleased  spectators, 
yea  authors,  of  one  another's  calamities  and  ruin  1  Can  the  tears  that  issued  from  these  compassionate,  blessed  eyes, 
upon  the  foresight  of  Jerusalem's  woful  catastrophe,  do  nothing  towards  the  quenching  of  these  flames'? 

But  I  add,  that  the  too-intent  fixing  of  our  thoughts  upon  any  supposable  events  in  this  world,  argues,  at  least,  a 
narrow,  carnal  mind,  that  draws  and  gathers  all  things  into  time,  as  despairing  of  eternity;  and  reckons  no  better 
state  of  things  considerable,  that  is  not  to  be  brought  about  under  their  own  present  view,  in  this  world  ;  as  if  it  were 
uncertain  or  insignificant,  that  there  shall  be  unexceptionable,  eternal  order  and  rectitude  in  another. 

'Tis  again  as  groundless,  and  may  argue  as  ilia  mind,  to  prophecy  smooth  and  pleasant  things,  in  a  time  of  abound- 
ing wickedness.  The  safer,  middle  course,  is,  without  God's  express  warrant,  not  to  prophesy  at  all,  but  as  we  have 
opportunity,  to  warn  and  instruct  men,  with  all  meekness  and  long-sufiering ;  for  which  the  Lord's  ordinary  messen- 
gers can  never  want  his  warrant.  And,  after  our  blessed  Saviour's  most  imitable  example,  to  scatter  our  tears  over  the 
impenitent,  even  upon  the  (too  probable)  apprehension  of  the  temporal  judgments  which  hang  over  their  heads,  but 
most  of  all  upon  the  account  of  their  liableness  to  the  more  dreadful  ones  of  the  other  state ;  which  in  the  following 
tliscourse,  I  hope,  it  is  made  competently  evident,  this  lamentation  of  our  Saviour  hath  ultimate  reference  unto.  For 
the  other,  though  we  know  them  to  be  due,  and  most  highly  deserved  ;  yet  concerning  the  actual  infliction  of  them, 
even  upon  obstinate  and  persevering  sinners,  we  cannot  pronounce.  We  have  no  settled  constitution,  or  lule,  by 
which  we  can  conclude  it,  any  more  than  that  outward  felicity,  or  prosperity,  shall  be  the  constant  portion  of  good  men 
in  this  world.  The  great  God  hath  reserved  to  himself  a  latitude  of  acting  more  arbitrarily,  both  as  to  promise  ?  and 
thrcatenings  of  this  nature.     If  the  accomplishment  of  either  could  be  certainly  expected,  it  should  be  of  the  promises 


PREFACE.  433 

rather;  because  as  to  promised  rewards  God  is  pleased  to  make  himself  debtor,  and  a  right  accrues  to  them  to  whom 
the  promise  is  made,  if  either  the  promise  be  absolute,  or  made  with  any  certain  condition,  that  is  actually  performed. 
But  God  is  always  the  creditor  paina,  the  right  to  punish,  remains  wholly  in  himself,  the  exacting  whereof  he  may 
therefore  suspend,  without  any  appearance  of  wrong,  as  seemeth  good  unto  him.  If,  therefore,  he  may  withhold 
temporal  blessings  from  good  and  pious  men,  to  which  they  have  a  remote  and  fundamental  right,  as  having  reserved 
to  himself  the  judgment  of  the  fit  time  and  season  of  bestowing  them  ;  much  more  doth  it  belong  to  his  wisdom,  to  fix 
the  boimds  of  his  patience  and  long-suffering;  and  determine  the  season  of  animadverting  upon  more  open  and  in- 
solent offenders  by  temporal  punishments,  according  as  shall  make  most  for  the  ends  of  his  government,  and  finally 
prove  more  advantageous  to  the  dignity  and  glory  of  it.  The  practice,  therefore,  of  our  Saviour,  in  speaking  so  posi- 
tively concerning  the  approaching  fall  and  ruin  of  Jerusalem,  is  no  pattern  unto  us.  He  spake  not  only  with  the 
knowledge  of  a  prophet,  but  with  the  authority  of  a  judge:  and  his  words  may  be  considered  both  as  a  prediction 
and  a  sentence.     We  can  pretend  to  speak  in  neither  capacity  touching  things  of  this  nature. 

But  for  the  everlasting  pimishments  in  another  world,  that  belong  to  unreconciled  sinners,  who  refuse  to  know  the 
thing's  of  their  peace,  the  gospel-constitution  hath  made  the  connexion  firm  and  unalterable,  between  their  continuing, 
unrepented  wickedness,  and  those  punishments.  When,  therefore,  we  behold  the  impudent,  provoking  sins  of  the 
age  wherein  we  live,  against  the  natural  law  of  our  Creator,  persisted  in  with  all  the  marks  of  infidelity  and  obdu- 
ration  against  the  truth  and  grace  that  so  gloriously  shine  forth  in  the  Gospel  of  our  Redeemer,  we  may  (after  him) 
speak  positively.  He  that  believeth  not  shall  be  damned — is  condemned  already ;  shall  not  see  life,  but  the  wrath  of  God 
abideth  on  him.  If  ye  believe  not  that  I  am  He,  ye  shall  die  in  your  sins.  Except  ye  repent,  ye  shall  all  likewise 
perish.  And  here,  how  doth  it  become  us  too,  in  conformity  to  his  great  example,  to  .speak  compassionately,  and 
as  those  that,  in  some  measure,  know  the  terror  of  the  Lord !  O  how  doleful  is  the  case,  when  we  consider  the  in- 
consistent notions  of  many,  with,  not  this  or  that  particular  doctrine,  or  article  of  the  Christian  faith,  but  with  the 
whole  sum  of  Christianity,  the  atheism  of  some,  the  avowed  mere  theism  of  others !  The  former  sort  far  outdoing 
the  Jewish  infidelity.  Which  people,  besides  the  rational  means  of  demonstrating  a  Deity  common  to  them  with  the 
rest  of  mankind,  could,  upon  the  account  of  many  things  peculiar  to  themselves,  be  in  no  suspense  concerning  this 
matter.  How  great  was  their  reverence  of  the  books  of  the  Old  Testament,  especially  those  of  Moses  !  their  know- 
ledge most  certain  of  plain,  and  most  convincing  matter  of  fact.  How  long  the  government  of  their  nation  had  been  an 
immediate  theocracy !  what  evident  tokens  of  the  Divine  presence  had  been  among  them  from  age  to  age  !  in  how 
wonderful  a  manner  they  were  brought  out  of  Egypt,  through  the  Red  sea,  and  conducted  all  along  through  the 
wilderness !  how  glorious  an  appearance  and  manifestation  of  himself  God  afforded  to  them  at  the  giving  of  the 
law,  upon  mount  Sinai !  and  by  how  apparent  exertions  of  the  Divine  power  the  former  inhabitants  were  expelled, 
and  they  settled  in  the  promised  land !  Upon  all  this  they  could  be  in  no  more  doubt  concerning  the  existence  of 
a  Deitv,'than  of  the  sun  in  the  firmament.  Whereas  we  are  put  to  prove,  in  a  Christian  nation,  that  this  world,  and 
its  continual  successive  inhabitants,  have  a  wise  intelligent  Maker  and  Lord,  and  that  all  things  came  not  into  the 
state  wherein  they  are,  by  (no  man  can  imagine  what)  either  fatal  necessity  or  casualty. 

But  both  sorts  agree  in  (what  I  would  principally  remark)  the  disbelief  of  Christ  being  the  Messiah.  And  so, 
with  both,  the  whole  business  of  Christianity  must  be  a  fable  and  a  cheat.  And  thus  it  is  determined,  not  by  men 
that  have  made  it  their  business  to  consider  and  examine  the  matter,  (for  the  plain  evidence  of  things  cannot  but 
even  obtrude  a  conviction  upon  anv  diligent  inquirer,)  but  by  such  as  have  only  resolved  to  consider ;  who  have 
before-hand  settled  their  purpose,  never  to"  be  awed  by  the  apprehension  of  an  invisible  Ruler,  into  any  course  of  life 
that  shall  bear  hard  upon  sensual  inclination,  have  already  chosen  their  master,  enslaved  themselves  to  brutal  appe- 
tite, and  are  so  habituated  to  that  mean  servility,  made  it  so  connatural,  so  deeply  inward  to  themselves,  so  much 
their  very  life,  as  that  through  the  pre-apprehended  pain  and  uneasiness  of  a  violent  rupture,  in  tearing  themselves 
from  themselves,  it  is  become  their  interest  not  to  admit  any  serious  thought.  Any  such  thought  they  are  concerned 
(they  reckon)  to  fence  against,  as  against  the  point  of  a  sword ;  it  strikes  at  their  only  life,  the  brute  must  die,  that  (by  a 
happy  TTa^tyycitaia)  they  maybe  again  born  men.  That  is  the  design  of  Christianity,  to  restore  men  to  themselves 
again;  and  because  it  hath  this  tendency, it  is  therefore  not  to  be  endured.  And  all  the  little  residue  of  human  wit 
which  is  yet  left  them,  (which  because  the  sensual  nature  is  predominant,  is  pressed  into  a  subserviency  to  the  interest 
and  defence  of  a  brutal  life,)  only  serves  them  to  turn  every  thing  of  serious  religion  into  ridicule,  and  being  them- 
selves resolved  never  to  be  reasoned  into  any  seriousness,  they  have  the  confidence  to  make  the  trial,  whether  all 
other  men  can  be  jested  out  of  it. 

If  this  were  not  the  case,  if  such  persons  could  allow  themselves  to  think,  and  debate  the  matter,  how  certain 
would  the  victory,  how  glorious  would  the  triumph  be,  of  the  Christian  religion  over  all  the  little  cavils  they  are 
wont  to  allege  against  it !  Let  their  own  consciences  testify  in  the  case,  whether  ever  they  have  applied  themselves 
to  any  solemn  disquisition  concerning  this  important  affair,  but  only  contented  themselves  with  being  able,  amidst 
transient  discourse,  to  cast  out,  now  and  then,  some  oblique  glance,  against  somewhat  or  other  that  was  appendant,  or 
more  remotely  belonging,  to  the  Christian  profession,  (in  so  much  haste  as  not  to  stay  for  an  answer,)  and  because 
they  may  have  surprised,  sometimes,  one  or  other,  not  so  ready  at  a  quick  repartee,  or  who  reckoned  the  matter  to 
require  solemn  and  somewhat  larger  discourse,  (which  they  have  not  had  the  patience  to  hear,)  whether  they  have 
not  gone  away  puft  and  swollen  with  the  conceit,  that  they  have  w'hitlled  Christianity  away,  quite  off  the  stase,  with 
their  profane  breath;  as  if  its  firm  and  solid  strength,  wherein  it  stands  stable,  as  a  rock  of  adamant,  depended 
upon  this  or  that  sudden,  occasional,  momentary  effort  on  the  behalf  of  it.  But  if  such  have  a  mind  to  try  whether 
any  thing  can  be  strongly  said  in  defence  of  that  sacred  profession,  let  them  considerately  peruse  what  hath  been 
written  by  divers  to  that  purpose.  And  not  to  engage  them  in  any  very  tedious  longsome  task,  if  they  like  not  to  travel 
through  the  somewhat  abstruser  work  of  the  most  learned  Hugo  Grotius,  de  Veritatc  Christians  Religionis,  or  the 
more  voluminous  Huetius,  his  Demonstratio  Evangelica,  or  divers  others  that  might  be  named,  let  them  but  paiientiy 
and  leisurely  read  over  that  later  very  plain  and  clear,  but  nervous  and  solid,  discourse  of  Dr.  Parker,  upon  this  sub- 
ject, and  judge  then,  whether  the  Christian  religion  want  evidence,  or  whether  nothing  can  be  alleged,  why  we  of 
this  age,  so  long  after  Christ's  appearance  upon  the  stage  of  the  world,  are  to  reckon  ourselves  obliged  to  profess 
Christianity,  and  observe  the  rules  of  that  holy  profession. 

And  really  if,  upon  utmost  search,  it  .shall  be  found  to  have  firm  truth  at  the  bottom,  it  makes  itself  so  necessary, 
(which  must  be  acknowledged  part  of  that  truth,)  that  any  one  that  hath  wit  enough  to  be  author  of  a  jest,  might  un- 
derstand it  to  be  a  thing  not  to  be  jested  with.  It  trifles  with  no  man.  And,  where  it  is  once  sufficiently  propounded, 
leaves  it  no  longer  indifferent  whether  we  will  be  of  it  or  no.  Supposing  it  true,  it  is  strange  if  we  can  pretend  it 
not  to  be  sufficiently  propounded  to  us;  or  that  we  are  destitute  of  sufficient  means  to  come  by  the  knowledge  of  that 
truth  !  Wa>  this  religion  instituted  only  for  one  nation  or  age  1  Did  the  Son  of  God  descend  from  heaven,  put  on 
flesh,  and  die  1  had  we  an  incarnate  Deit-j-  conversant  among  men  on  earth,  and  made  a  sacrifice  for  the  sins  of 
men "?  and  hath  he  left  the  world  at  liberty,  whether,  upon  any  notice  hereof,  they  should  inquire  and  concern  them- 
selves about  him  or  no  1  Being  incarnate,  he  could  not,  as  such,  be  ever\'  where;  nor  was  it  fit  he  should  be  long 
here,  or  needful  (and,  therefore,  not  fit)  he  should  die  often.     It  was  condescension  enough  that  he  vouchsafed 


434  PREFACE. 

once  to  appear,  in  so  mean  and  self-abasing  a  form,  and  offered  himself  to  pm  away  sin  by  the  sacrifice  of  himself. 
And  whereas  he  hath  himself  founded  a  dominion  over  us  in  his  own  blood,  did  die,  and  revive,  and  rise  again,  that 
he  might  be  Lord  of  the  living  and  of  the  dead;  and  the  eternal  Father  hath  hereupon  highly  exalted  him,  given  him 
a  name  above  every  name,  that  at  his  name  every  knee  should  bow,  and  that  all  should  conl'ess  that  he  is  Lord, 
to  the  praise  and  glory  of  God  ;  and  hath  required  that  all  should  honour  the  Son  as  himself  is  to  be  honoured  ;  hath 
given  him  power  over  all  flesh,  and  made  him  head  of  all  things  to  the  church:  was  it  ever  intended  men  should,  ge- 
nerally, remain  exempt  from  obligation  to  observe,  believe,  and  obey  him  1  was  it  his  own  intention  to  waive,  or  not 
insist  upon,  his  own  most  sacred,  and  so  dearly  acquired  rights  1  to  quit  his  claim  to  the  greatest  part  of  mankind  1 
Why  did  he  then  issue  out  his  commission  as  soon  as  he  was  risen  from  the  dead,  to  leach  all  nations,  to  proselyte  the 
world  to  himself,  to  baptize  them  into  his  name,  (with  that  of  the  Father  and  the  Holy  Ghost  1  O  the  great  and 
venerable  names  that  are  named  upon  professing  Christians  !)  Could  it  be  his  intention,  to  leave  it  lawful  to  men  to 
choose  this,  or  any,  or  no  religion,  as  their  humours, or  fancies,  or  lusts  should  prompt  them;  to  disregard  and  deride 
his  holy  doctrines,  violate  and  trample  upon  his  just  and  equal  laws,  reject  and  contemn  his  offered  favours  and 
mercy,  despise  and  profane  his  sacred  institutions  !  When  he  actually  makes  his  demand,  and  lays  his  claim,  what 
amazing  guilt,  how  swift  destruction,  must  they  incur,  that  dare  adventure  to  deny  the  Lord  that  bought  them  !  And 
they  that  shall  do  it,  among  a  Christianized  people,  upon  the  pretended  insufiiciency  of  the  revelation  they  have 
of  him,  do  but  heighten  the  affront  and  increase  the  provocation.  'Tis  to  charge  the  whole  Christian  institution 
with  foolery,  as  pretending  to  oblige  men,  when  they  cannot  know  to  what,  how,  or  upon  what  ground  they  should 
be  obliged ;  to  pronoimce  the  means  and  methods  inept,  and  vain,  which  he  hath  thought  sufficient  (and  only  fit) 
for  the  propagating  and  continuing  Christianity  in  the  world  ;  to  render  the  rational  reception  of  it  from  age  to  age 
impossible,  in  his  appointed  way  ;  or  unless  men  should  be  taught  by  angels,  or  voices  from  heaven,  or  that  miracles 
should  be  so  very  frequent  and  common,  as  thereby  also  to  become  useless  to  their  end ;  and  so  would  be  to  make  the 
whole  frame  of  Christian  religion  an  idle  impertinency  ;  and,  in  reference  to  its  avowed  design,  a  self-repugnant 
thing ;  and  consequently  were  to  impute  folly  to  him  who  is  the  Wisdom  of  God. 

And  how  are  other  things  known,  of  common  concernment,  and  whereof  an  immediate  knowledge  is  as  little  pos- 
sible "?  Can  a  man  satisfy  himself  that  he  hath  a  title  to  an  estate,  conveyed  down  to  him  by  very  ancient  writings, 
the  witnesses  whereof  are  long  since  dead  and  gone  1  or  that  he  is  obliged  by  laws  made  many  an  age  ago  1  Or  could 
any  records  be  preserved  with  more  care  and  concern,  than  those  wherein  our  religion  lies '?  or  be  more  secure  from 
designed  or  material  depravation  1  But  this  is  no  place  to  reason  these  things.  Enough  is  said  by  otners,  referred  to 
before.  I  only  further  say,  if  any  that  have  the  use  of  their  understandings,  living  in  a  Christian  nation,  think  to  justi- 
fy their  infidelity  and  disobedience  to  the  Son  of  God,  by  pretending  they  had  no  suflJcient  means  to  know  him  to  be 
so,  the  excuse  will  avail  them  alike,  as  that  did  him,  who  insolently  said,  Who  is  the  Lord,  that  I  should  obey  his 
voice  1  I  know  not  the  Lord,  neither  will  I,  &c.  For  have  not  we  as  good  means  to  know  who  Christ  is,  as  the 
Egyptians  at  that  time  had,  to  know  who  was  the  God  of  Israel,  though  afterwards  he  was  more  known  by  the  judg- 
ments which  he  executed  1  Although  the  knowledge  of  the  only  true  God  be  natural,  and  the  obligation  thereto  com- 
mon to  them  ;  yet  the  indisposition  to  use  their  understanding  this  way,  is  so  great  and  general,  and  the  express  reve- 
lation that  Jesus  Christ  was  the  Son  of  God,  requires  so  much  less  labour  to  understand  it,  than  there  is  in  arguing 
out  the  existence  and  attributes  of  God,  by  an  inhabile,  sluggish  mind,  that  the  difference  cannot  be  great,  if  any,  on 
that  side.  This  latter  only  needs  the  inquiry,  Avhence  the  revelation  comes  ;  which  as  it  is  not  difficult  in  itself,  so 
this  occasion,  viz.  of  ils  being  proposed,  cloth  invite  and  urge  to  it;  whereas  the  generality  of  the  pagan  world  have 
little  of  external  inducement,  leading  them  into  inquiries  concerning  the  true  God.  Therefore,  all  circumstances 
considered,  I  see  not  how  they  that  live  under  the  Gospel  can  be  thought  to  have  less  advantage  and  obligation  to 
own  Jesus  of  Nazareth  to  be  the  Son  of  God,  than  the  rest  of  the  world,  to  own  the  only  living  and  true  God  ;  or 
that  the  former  should  be  less  liable  to  the  revelation  of  the  wrath  of  God  from  heaven  for  holding  supernatural  truth 
in  unrighteousness,  than  the  other,  fordoing  so  injurious  violence  to  that  which  is  merely  natural.  Unto  what  seve- 
rities, then,  of  the  Divine  wrath  and  justice,  even  of  the  highest  kind,  do  multitudes  lie  open  in  our  days. 

For  besides  those  (much  fewer)  mental,  or  notional,  infidels,  that  believe  not  the  principles  of  the  Christian  religion, 
against  the  clearest  evidence,  how  vastly  greater  is  the  number  of  them  that  are  so  in  heart  and  practice,  against 
their  professed  belief!  that  live  in  utter  estrangement  from  God,  as  without  him  in  the  world,  or  in  open  enmity  against 
him,  and  contrariety  to  the  known  rules  of  the  religion  they  profess!  How  many  that  understand  nothing  of  its 
principal  and  plainest  doctrines !  as  if  nothing  were  requisite  to  distinguish  the  Christian  from  the  pagan  world, 
more  than  an  empty  name;  or  as  if  the  Redeemer  of  sinners  had  died  upon  the  cross,  that  men  might  more  securely 
remain  alienated  from  the  life  of  God,  not  to  reconcile  and  reduce  them  to  him!  or  that  they  might  with  safety  in- 
dulge appetite,  mind  earthly  things,  make  the  world  their  god,  gratify  the  flesh,  and  make  provision  to  fulfil  the  lusts 
of  it,  defy  heaven,  affront  their  Maker,  live  in  malice,  envy,  hatred  to  one  another!  not  to  bless  them,  by  turning 
them  from  these  impieties  and  iniquities !  As  if  it  were  so  obscurely  hinted,  as  that  it  could  not  be  taken  notice  of, 
that  the  grace  of  God,  which  bringeth  salvation  to  all  men  hath  appeared,  teaching  them  to  deny  ungodliness  and 
worldly  lusts,  and  to  live  soberly,  righteously,  and  godly  in  this  present  world,  so  looking  for  the  blessed  hope.  And 
that  Christ  gave  himself  for  us,  to  redeem  us  from  all  iniquity,  and  to  purify  us  to  himself  a  peculiar  people,  zealous 
of  good  works!  How  many,  again,  are  Christians,  they  know  not  why  I  upon  the  same  terms  that  others  are  Maho- 
metans, because  it  is  the  religion  of  their  country,  by  fate  or  by  accident,  not  by  their  own  choice  and  judgment ! 
The  same  inconsideration  makes  them  be  Christians,  that  makes  others  be  none. 

And  now,  shall  our  Redeemer  be  left  to  weep  alone  over  these  perishing  souls  1  have  we  no  tears  to  spend  upon  this 
doleful  subject  1  Oh  that  our  heads  were  waters,  and  our  eyes  fountains !  Is  it  nothing  to  us,  that  multitudes  are  sink- 
ing, going  down  into  perdition,  under  the  name  of  Christian,  under  the  seal  of  baptism,  from  under  the  means  of  life 
and  salvation  !  perishing  !  and  can  we  do  nothing  to  prevent  if?  We  know  they  must  perish  that  do  not  repent  and 
turn  to  God,  and  love  him  above  all,  even  with  all  their  hearts  and  souls,  and  mind  and  might;  that  do  not  believe  in 
his  Son  and  pay  him  homage,  as  their  rightful  Lord,  sincerely  subjecting  themselves  to  his  laws  and  government. 
But  this  they  will  not  understand,  or  not  consider.  Our  endeavours  to  bring  them  to  it,  are  ineffectual,  'tis  but  faint 
breath  we  utter.  Our  words  drop  and  die  between  us  and  them  !  We  speak  to  them  in  the  name  of  the  eternal  God 
that  made  them,  of  the  great  Jesus  who  bought  them  with  his  blood,  and  they  regard  it  not.  The  Spirit  of  the  Lord 
is  in  a  great  degree  departed  from  among  us,  and  we  take  it  not  to  heart !  We  are  sensible  of  lesser  grievances,  are 
grieved  that  men  will  not  be  more  entirely  proselyted  to  our  several  parties  and  persua.sions,  rather  than  that  they  are 
so  disinclined  to  become  proselytes  to  real  Ckrislianitij ;  and  seem  more  deeply  concerned  to  have  Christian  reli- 
gion so  or  so  modified,  than  whether  there  shall  be  any  such  thing!  or  whether  men  be  saved  by  it  or  lost ! 

This  sad  case,  that  so  many  were  likely  to  be  lost  under  the  first  sound  of  the  Gospel ;  and  the  most  exemplary 
temper  of  our  blessed  Lord  in  reference  to  it,  are  represented  in  the  following  treatise  ;  with  design  to  excite  their 
care  for  their  own  souls,  who  need  to  be  warned,  and  the  compassions  of  others  for  them  who  are  so  little  apt  to 
take  warning.     The  good  Lord  grant  that  it  may  be,  some  way  or  other,  useful  for  good  ! 

JOHN  HOWE. 


THE 


REDEEMER'S    TEARS 


WEPT  OVER  LOST  SOULS. 


LUKE  XIX.  41,  42. 

AND  WHEN  HE  WAS  COME  NEAR,  HE  BEHELD  THE  CITY,  AND  WEPT  OVER  IT,  SAYING,  IF  THOU  HAD.ST  KNOWN,  EVEN  THO0,  AT 
LEAST  IN  THIS  THY  DAY,  THE  THINGS  WHICH  BELONG  UNTO  THY  PEACE  !    BUT  NOW  THEY  ARE  HID  FROM  THINE  JEYES. 


We  have  here  a  compassionate  lamentation  in  the  midst 
of  a  solemn  triumph.  Our  Lord's  approach  unto  Jerusa- 
lem at  this  lime,  and  his  entrance  into  it,  (as  the  foregoing 
history  shows,)  carried  with  them  some  face  of  regal  and 
triumphal  pomp,  but  with  such  allays,  as  discovered  a 
mind  most  remote  from  ostentation  ;  and  led  by  judgment, 
(not  vain-glory,)  to  transmit  through  a  dark  umbrage  some 
glimmerings  only  of  that  excellent  majesty  which  both  his 
sonship  and  his  mediatorship  entitled  him  unto;  a  very 
modest  and  mean  specimen  of  his  true  indubious  royalty 
and  kingly  state;  such  as  might  rather  intimate  than 
plainly  declare  it,  and  rather  afford  an  after-instruction  to 
teachable  minds,  than  beget  a  present  conviction  and  dread 
in  the  stupidly  obstinate  and  unteachable.  And  this  effect 
we  find  it  had,  as  is  observed  by  another  evangelical  histo- 
rian ;  who  relating  the  same  matter,  how  in  his  passage  to 
Jerusalem  the  people  met  him  with  branches  of  palm- 
trees  and  joyful  hosannas,  he  riding  upon  an  ass's  colt, 
(as  princes  or  judges,  to  signify  meekness  as  much  as  state, 
were  wont  to  do.  Judges  v.  10.)  tells  us,  these  things  his 
disciples  miderstood  not  at  the  first,  but  when  Jesus  was 
glorified,  then  remembered  they  that  these  things  were 
written  of  him,  and  that  they  had  done  these  things  unto 
him,  John  xii.  16.  For  great  regard  was  had  in  this,  as  in 
all  the  acts  of  his  life  and  ministry,  to  that  last  and  con- 
clusive part,  his  dying  a  sacrifice  upon  ihe  cross  for  the 
sins  of  men  ;  to  observe  all  along  that  mediocrity,  and  steer 
that  middle  course  between  obscurity  and  a  terrifying, 
overpowering  glory,  that  this  solemn  oblation  of  himself 
might  neither  be  prevented,  nor  be  disregarded,  Agreeably 
to  this  design,  and  the  rest  of  his  course,  he  doth,  in  this 
solemnity,  rather  discover  his  royal  state  and  dignity  by 
a  dark  emblem,  than  by  an  express  representation ;  and 
shows  in  it  more  of  meekness  and  humility,  than  of  awful 
majesty  and  magnificence,  as  was  formerly  predicted, 
Zech.  ix.  9.  Rejoice  greatly,  O  daughter  of  Zion ;  shout, 
O  daughter  of  Jerusalem:  behold,  thy  King  cometh  unto 
thee  :  he  is  just,  and  having  salvation  ;  lowly,  and  riding 
upon  an  ass,  and  upon  a  colt  the  foal  of  an  ass. 

And  how  little  he  was  taken  in  this  piece  of  state,  is 
sufl[iciently  to  be  seen  in  this  paragraph  of  the  chapter. 
His  mind  is  much  more  taken  up  in  the  foresight  of  Jeru- 
salem's sad  case ;  and  therefore  being  come  within  view 
of  it,  (which  he  might  very  commodiously  have  in  the  de- 
scent of  the  higher  opposite  hill,  mount  Olivet,)  he  beheld 
the  city,  'tis  said,  and  wept  over  it.  Two  things  concur  to 
make  up  the  cause  of  this  sorrow : — 1.  The  greatness  of 
the  calamity;  Jerusalem,  once  so  dear  to  God,  was  to  suf- 
fer, not  a  scar,  but  a  ruin  ;— "  The  days  shall  come  upon 
thee,  that  thine  enemies  shall  cast  a  trench  about  thee,  and 
compass  thee  in  on  every  side,  and  shall  lay  thee  even 
with  the  ground,  and  thy  children  within  thee  ;  and  they 
shall  not  leave  in  thee  one  stone  upon  another  :"  and — 2. 
The  lost  opportunity  of  preventing  it; — "If  thou  had.st 


known,  even  thou,  at  least  in  this  thy  day,  the  things 
which  belong  unto  thy  peace  !  but  now  they  are  hid  from 
thine  eyes,"  ver.  42.  And  again,  "  Thou  knewest  not  the 
time  of  thy  visitation." 

FHrst,  The  calamity  was  greater  in  his  eyes,  than  it  can 
be  in  ours.  His  large  and  comprehensive  mind  could  take 
the  compass  of  this  sad  case.  Our  thoughts  cannot  reach 
far,  yet  we  can  apprehend  what  may  make  this  case  very 
deplorable ;  we  can  consider  Jerusalem  as  the  city  of  the 
great  King,  where  was  the  palace  and  throne  of  the  Ma- 
jesty of  heaven,  vouchsafing  to  "  dwell  with  men  on  earth  ' 
Here  the  Divine  light  and  glory  had  long  shone  ;  here  was 
the  sacred  Shechinah,  the  dwelling  place  of  the  Most 
High,  the  s}'TTibols  of  his  presence,  the  seat  of  worship,  the 
mercy-seat,  the  place  of  receiving  addresses,  and  of  dis- 
pensing favours  ;  "  The  house  of  prayer  for  all  nations." 
To  his  own  people  this  was  the  city  of  their  solemnities, 
whither  the  tribes  were  wont  to  go  up,  the  tribes  of  the 
Lord,  unto  the  testimony  of  Israel,  to  give  thanks  unto 
the  name  of  the  Lord  :  for  there  were  set  thrones  of  judg- 
ment, the  thrones  of  the  house  of  David,  Psal.  cxxii.  4,  5. 
He  that  was  so  great  a  lover  of  the  souls  of  men,  how 
grateful  and  dear  to  his  heart  had  the  place  been  where 
through  the  succession  of  many  by-past  ages  the  great  God 
did  use  (though  more  obscurely)  to  unfold  his  kind  pro- 
pensions  towards  sinners,  to  hold  solemn  treaties  with 
them,  to  make  himself  known,  to  draw  and  allure  .«onls 
into  his  own  holy  worship  and  acquaintance  I  And  that 
now  the  dismal  prospect  presents  itself  of  desolation  and 
ruin,  ready  to  overwhelm  all  this  glory !  and  la}'  waste  the 
dwellings  of  Divine  love  !  his  sorroM'  must  be  conceived 
proportionable  to  the  greatness  of  this  desolating  change. 

Secondly,  And  the  opportunity  of  prevention  was  quite 
lost!  There  was  an  opportunity:  "He  was  sent  to  the 
lost  sheep  of  the  house  of  Israel :  he  came  to  them  as  his 
own."  Had  they  received  him,  O  how  joyful  a  place  had 
Jerusalem  been  !  How  glorious  had  the  triumphs  of  God 
been  there,  had  they  repented,  believed,  obeyed  !  These 
were  the  "  things  that  belonged  to  their  peace  ;"  this  was 
their  opportunity,  their  "  day  of  visitation  ;"  these  were  the 
things  that  might  have  been  done  within  that  day  :  but  it 
was  now  too  late,  their  day  was  over,  and  the  things  of 
their  peace  hid  from  their  eyes  ;  and  how  fervent  were  his 
desires,  they  had  done  otherwise  !  taken  the  wise  and  safe 
course.  If  thou  hadst  known !  the  words  admit  the  op- 
tative form,  £('  being  put,  as  'tis  observed  to  be  sometimes 
with  other  authors,  for  c'Sc,  7ttinam ;  O  that  thou  hadst 
known,  I  wish  thou  hadst ;  his  sorrow  must  be  proportion- 
able to  his  love.  Or  otherwise  we  may  conceive  the  sen- 
tence incomplete,  part  cut  off  by  a  more  emphatical  apo- 
sinpcHs,  tears  interrupting  speech,  and  imposing  a  more 
speaking  silence,  which  imports  an  affection  beyond  all 
words.  They  that  were  anciently  so  over-otRcious  as  to 
rase  those  words  "and  wept  over  it"  out  of  the  canon,  as 


436 


THE  REDEEMER'S  TEARS 


thinking  it  unworthy  so  divine  a  person  to  shed  tears,  did 
greatly  err,  not  knowing  the  Scriptures,  (which  elsewhere 
speak  of  our  Lord's  weep'.ng,)  nor  the  power  of  Divine 
love,  (now  become  incarnate,)  nor  indeed  the  true  perfec- 
tions and  properties  of  human  nature:  otherwise  they  had 
never  taken  upon  them  to  reform  the  Gospel,  and  reduce 
not  only  Christianity,  but  Christ  himself,  to  the  measures 
and  square  of  their  stoical  philosophy :  but  these  have  also 
met  with  a  like  ancient  confutation. 

One  thing  (before  we  proceed)  needs  some  disquisition, 
?'t-. — Whether  this  lamentation  of  our  blessed  Lord  do  refer 
only  or  ultimately  to  the  temporal  calamity  he  foresaw 
coming  upon  Jerusalem  : — or  whether  it  had  not  a  further 
and  more  principal  reference  to  their  spiritual  and  eter- 
nal miseries  that  were  certain  to  be  concomitant,  and  con- 
sequent thereunto  1     Where  let  it  be  considered, 

1.  That  very  dreadful  spiritual  plagues  and  judgments 
did  accompany  their  destruction  very  generally;  which 
every  one  knows  who  is  acquainted  with  their  after-story, 
i.  e.  that  takes  notice  what  spirit  reigned  among  them,  and 
what  their  behaviour  was  towards  our  Lord  himself,  and 
afterwards  towards  his  apostles  and  disciples  all  along  to 
their  fearful  catastrophe  ;  (as  it  may  be  collected  from  the 
sacred  records,  and  other  history ;)  what  blmdness  of  mind, 
what  hardness  of  heart,  what  mighty  prejudice,  what  in- 
flexible obstinacy,  against  the  clearest  light,  the  largest 
mercy,  the  most  perspicuous  and  most  gracious  doctrine, 
and  the  most  glorious  works,  wrought  to  confirm  it,  against 
the  brightest  beams  and  evidences  of  the  Divine  truth, 
love,  and  power !  what  persevering  impenitency  and  infi- 
delity against  God  and  Christ,  proceeding  from  the  bitterest 
enmity !  (Ye  have  both  seen  and  hated  me  and  my  Father, 
John  XV.  24.)  what  mad  rage  and  fury  against  one  another, 
even  when  death  and  destruction  were  at  the  very  door  ! 
Here  were  all  the  tokens  imaginable  of  the  most  tremen- 
dous infatuation,  and  of  their  being  forsaken  of  God.  Here 
was  a  concurrence  of  all  kinds  of  spiritual  judgments  in 
the  highest  degree. 

2.  That  the  concomitancy  of  such  spiritual  evils  with 
their  temporal  destruction,  our  Lord  foreknew  as  well  as 
their  temporal  destruction  itself.  It  lay  equally  in  view 
before  him;  and  was  as  much  under  his  eye.  He  that 
knew  what  was  in  man,  could  as  well  tell  what  would  be 
in  him.  And  by  the  same  light  by  which  he  could  imme- 
diately look  into  hearts,  he  could  as  well  see  into  futuri- 
ties, and  as  well  the  one  futurity  as  the  other.  The  know- 
ledge of  the  one  he  did  not  owe  to  his  human  understand- 
ing :  to  his  divine  understanding,  whereby  he  knew  all 
things,  the  other  could  not  be  hid. 

3.  The  connexion  between  the  impenitency  and  infi- 
delity that  prove  to  be  final,  and  eternal  misery,  is  known 
to  us  all.  Of  his  knowledge  of  it  therefore  (whose  law  hath 
made  the  connexion,  besides  what  there  is  in  the  nature  of 
the  things  themselves)  there  can  be  no  doubt. 

4.  That  the  miseries  of  the  soul,  especially  such  as 
prove  incurable  and  eternal,  are  in  themselves  far  the 
greatest,  we  all  acknowledge :  nor  can  we  make  a  diffi- 
culty to  believe,  that  our  Lord  apprehended  and  considered 
things  according  as  they  were  in  themselves,  so  as  to  allow 
every  thing  its  own  proper  weight  and  import  in  his  esti- 
mating of  ttiem.  These  things  seem  all  very  evident  to 
any  eye.  Now  though  it  be  confessed  not  impossible,  that 
of  things  so  distinct  from  one  another  as  outward  and 
temporal  evils,  and  those  that  are  .spiritual  and  eternal, 
even  befalling  the  same  persons,  one  may  for  the  present 
consider  the  one  without  attending  to  the  other,  or  making 
distinct  reflection  thereon  at  the  same  time ;  yet  how  un- 
likely is  it,  these  things  bordering  so  closely  upon  one  an- 
other as  they  did  in  the  present  case,  that  so  comprehen- 
sive a  mind  as  our  Saviour's  was,  sufficiently  able  to  en- 
close them  both,  and  so  spiritual  a  mind,  apt  no  doubt  to 
consider  most  what  was  in  itself  most  considerable,  should 
in  a  solemn  lamentation  of  so  sad  a  case,  wholly  overlook 
the  saddest  pan,  and  stay  his  thoughts  only  upon  the  sur- 
face and  outside  of  it !  That  he  mentions  only  the  ap- 
proaching outward  calamity,  (ver.  43,  44.)  was  that  he 
spake  in  the  hearing  of  the  multitude,  and  upon  the  way, 
out  in  passing,  when  there  was  not  opportunity  for  large 
discourse ;  and  therefore  he  spake  what  might  soonest 
strike  their  minds,  was  most  liable  to  common  apprehen- 


sion, and  might  most  deeply  affect  ordinary,  and  not  yet 
enough  prepared,  hearers. 

And  he  spake  what  he  had,  no  doubt,  a  deep  sense  of 
himself  Whatever  of  tender  compassions  might  be  ex- 
pected from  the  most  perfect  humanity  and  benignity 
could  not  be  wanting  in  him,  upon  the  foresight  of  such  a 
calamity  as  was  coming  upon  that  place  and  jjcople.  But 
yet,  what  was  the  sacking  of  a  city,  the  destroying  of 
pompous  buildings  that  were  all  of  a  perishable  material, 
the  mangling  of  human  flesh,  over  which  the  worm  was 
otherwise  shortly  to  have  had  dominion  ;  to  the  alienation 
of  men's  minds  from  God,  their  disaffection  to  the  only 
means  of  their  recovery,  and  reconciliation  to  him,  and 
their  subjection  to  his  wrath  and  curse  for  ever!  When 
also  it  is  plain  he  considered  that  perverse  temper  of  mind 
and  spirit  in  them,  as  the  cause  of  their  ruin  !  which  his 
own  words  imply  ;  that  "  the  things  which  belonged  to 
their  peace  were  hid  from  their  eyes;"  and  that  the  things 
he  foretold,  should  befall  them,  because  "  they  knew  not 
the  time  of  their  visitation."  For  what  could  the  things 
be  that  belonged  to  their  peace,  but  turning  to  God,  be- 
lieving in  himself,  as  the  Messiah,  bringing  forth  of  fruits 
meet  for  repentance  1  Whence  also  there  must  be  another 
latent  and  concealed  meaning  of  their  peace  itself,  than 
only  their  continued  amity  with  the  Roman  .state;  their 
peace  with  Heaven  ;  their  being  set  right,  and  standing  in 
favour  and  acceptance,  with  God.  For  was  it  ever  the 
first  intention  of  the  things  enjoined  in  Gospel,  but  to 
entitle  men  to  earthly  secular  benefits  1 

Nor  can  we  doubt  but  the  same  things  lay  deep  in  the 
mind  of  our  blessed  Lord,  when  he  uttered  these  words, 
as  when  he  spake  those  so  very  like  them.  Matt,  xxiii.  37, 
38.  O  Jerusalem,  Jerusalem,  thou  that  killest  the  pro- 
phets, and  stoncst  them  which  are  sent  unto  thee,  how  often 
would  I  have  gathered  th}'  children  together  even  as  a  hen 
gathereth  her  chickens  under  her  wings,  and  ye  would  not ! 
Behold,  your  house  is  left  unto  you  desolate.  These  other 
were  not  spoken  indeed  at  the  same  time,  but  very  soon 
after :  those  we  are  considering,  in  his  way  to  the  city, 
these  when  he  was  come  into  it ;  most  probably,  by  the 
series  of  the  evangelical  history,  the  second  day,  after  his 
having  lodged  the  first  night  at  Bethany.  But  it  is  plain  tjiey 
have  the  same  sense,  and  that  the  same  things  lay  with  great 
weight  upon  his  spirit ;  so  that  the  one  passage  may  contii- 
bute  much  to  the  enlightening  and  expounding  of  the  other. 
Now  what  can  be  meant  by  that,  "  I  would  have  gather- 
ed you  as  the  hen  her  chickens  under  her  wings  1"  Could 
it  intend  a  political  meaning;  that  he  would  have  been  a 
temporal  prince  and  saviour  to  them  7  which  he  so  earnestly 
declined  and  disclaimed ;  professing  to  the  last,  his  king- 
dom was  not  of  this  world.  It  could  mean  no  other  thing, 
but  that  he  would  have  reduced  them  back  to  God,  have 
gathered  and  united  them  under  his  own  gracious  and  safe 
conduct  in  order  thereto,  have  secured  them  from  the  Di- 
vine wrath  and  justice,  and  have  conferred  on  them  spi- 
ritual and  eternal  blessings.  In  a  like  sense  their  peace  here 
was  no  doubt  more  principally  to  be  understood  ;  and 
their  loss  and  forfeiture  of  it,  by  their  not  understanding 
the  things  belonging  thereto,  considered  and  lamented. 

Therefore  the  principal  intendment  of  this  lamentation, 
though  directly  applied  to  a  community,  and  the  formed 
body  of  a  people,  is  equally  applicable  unto  particular 
persons  living  under  the  Gospel,  or  to  whom  the  ordinary 
means  of  conversion  and  salvation  are  vouchsafed,  but  are 
neglected  by  them  and  forfeited.  We  may  therefore  thus 
sum  up  the  meaning  and  sense  of  these  words : — That  it  is 
a  thing  in  itself  very  lamentable,  and  much  lamented  by  our 
Lord  Jesus, when  such  as  living  under  the  Gospel,  have  had 
a  day  of  grace,  and  an  opportunity  of  knowing  the  things 
belonging  to  their  peace,  have  so  outworn  that  day,  and  lost 
their  opportunity,  that  the  things  of  their  peace  are  quite 
hid  from  their  eyes: — where  we  have  these  distinct  heads 
of  discourse  to  be  severally  considered  and  insisted  on. 

I.  What  are  the  things  necessary  to  be  known  by  such 
as  live  under  the  Gospel,  as  immediately  belonging  to  their 
peace. 

II.  That  they  have  a  day  or  season  wherein  to  know 
not  these  things  only,  but  the  whole  compass  of  their  case, 
and  what  the  knowledge  of  those  things  more  immediately 
belonging  to  their  peace  supposes,  and  depends  upon. 


WEPT  OVER  LOST  SOULS. 


437 


in.  That  this  day  hath  its  bounds  and  limits,  so  that 
■when  it  is  over  and  lost ;  those  things  are  forever  hid  from 
their  eyes. 

IV.  That  this  is  a  case  to  be  considered  with  deep  re- 
sentment and  lamentation,  and  was  so  by  our  Lord  Jesus. 

I.  What  are  the  things  necessary  to  be  known  by  such 
as  live  under  the  Gospel,  as  immediately  belonging  to 
their  peace  1  Where  we  are  more  particularly  to  inquire, 
— 1.  What  those  things  themselves  are — 2.  What  sort  of 
knowledge  of  them  it  is  that  here  is  meant,  and  made 
necessary. 

1.  What  the  things  are  which  belong  to  the  peace  of  a 
people  living  under  th-e  Gospel.  The  things  belonging  to 
a  people's  peace,  are  not  throughout  the  same  with  all. 
Living,  or  not  living,  under  the  Gospel,  makes  a  consider- 
able ditference  in  the  matter.  Before  the  incarnation  and 
public  appearance  of  our  Lord,  something  was  not  neces- 
sary among  the  Jews,  that  afterwards  became  necessary. 
It  was  sufficient  to  them  before,  to  believe  in  a  Messiah  to 
come,  more  indefinitely.  Afterwards  he  plainly  tells  them. 
If  ye  believe  not  that  I  am  he,  ye  shall  die  in  your  sins, 
John  viii.  24.  Believing  in  Christ  cannot  be  necessary  to 
Pagans  that  never  heard  of  him,  as  a  duty,  howsoever  ne- 
cessary it  may  be  a.s  a  vieans.  Their  not  believing  in  him 
cannot  be  itself  a  sin,  though  by  it  they  should  want  reme- 
dy for  their  other  sins.  But  it  more  concei'ns  us  who  do 
live  under  the  Gospel,  to  apprehend  aright  what  is  neces- 
sary for  ourselves.  That  is  a  short  and  full  summary 
which  the  apostle  gives.  Acts  xx.2L  Repentance  towards 
God,  and  faith  in  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  The  Gospel 
finds  us  in  a  state  of  apostacy  from  God,  both  as  our  so- 
vereign Ruler,  and  sovereign  Good,  not  apt  to  obey  and 
glorify  him,  as  the  former,  nor  enjoy  him,  nor  be  satisfied 
in  him,  as  the  latter.  Repentance  towards  God,  cures  and 
removes  this  disatfection  of  our  minds  and  hearts  towards 
him,  under  both  these  notions.  By  it  the  whole  soul  turns 
to  him,  with  this  sense  and  resolution  :  "  I  have  been  a 
rebellious,  disloyal  wretch,  against  the  high  authority  and 
most  rightful  government  of  him  who  gave  me  breath,  and 
whose  creature  I  am.  I  will  live  no  longer  thus.  Lo  now 
I  come  back  unto  thee,  O  Lord,  thou  art  my  Lord  and 
God.  Thee  I  now  design  to  serve  and  obey,  as  the  Lord 
of  my  life;  thee  I  will  fear,  unto  thee  I  subject  myself,  to 
live  no  longer  after  my  own  will,  but  thine.  I  have  been 
hitherto  a  miserable,  forlorn,  distressed  creature,  destitute 
of  any  thing  that  could  satisfy  me,  or  make  me  happy ;  have 
set  my  heart  upon  a  vain  and  thorny  world,  that  had  no- 
thing in  it  answerable  to  my  real  necessities,  that  halh 
flattered  and  mocked  me  often,  never  satisfied  me,  and 
been  wont  to  requite  my  pursuits  of  satisfaction  from  it 
with  vexation  and  trouble,  and  '  pierce  me  through  with 
many  sorrows.'  I  have  borne»in  the  mean  time  a  disaffect- 
ed heart  towards  thee,  have  therefore  cast  thee  out  of  my 
thoughts,  so  that  amidst  all  my  disappointments  and  sor- 
rows, it  never  came  into  my  mind  to  say,  '  Where  is  God 
my  maker  1'  I  could  never  savour  any  thing  spiritual  or 
divine,  and  was  ever  more  ready,  in  distress,  to  turn  myself 
any  way  than  (that  which  I  ought)  towards  thee.  I  now 
see  and  bemoan  my  folly,  and  with  a  convinced,  self-judg- 
ing heart,  betake  myself  to  thee ;  the  desires  of  my  soul 
are  now  unto  thy  name,  and  to  the  remembrance  of  thee. 
Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but  thee,  or  on  earth  that  I  can 
desire  besides  thee  1" 

This  is  "  repentance  towards  God,"  and  is  one  thing 
belongina:,  and  most  simply  necessary,  to  our  peace.  But 
though  it  be  most  necessary,  it  is  not  enough.  It  answers 
to  something  of  our  wretched  case,  but  not  to  every  thing. 
We  were  in  our  state  of  apostacy  averse  and  disaflfected 
to  God.  To  this  evil,  repentance  towards  him  is  the  op- 
posite and  only  proper  remedy.  But  besides  our  being 
without  inclination  towards  him,  we  are  also  without  in- 
terest in  him.  We  not  only  had  unjustly  cast  off"  him,  but 
were  also  most  justly  cast  off  by  him.  Our  injustice  had 
set  us  against  him,  and  his  justice  had  set  him  against  us ; 
we  need,  in  order  to  our  peace  with  him,  to  he  relieved  as 
well  against  his  justice,  as  our  own  injustice.  What  if 
now  we  would  return  to  him,  he  will  not  receive  us  1  And 
he  will  not  receive  us  for  our  own  sakes.  He  must  have 
a  recompense  for  the  wrong  we  had  done  him,  by  our 

u  Actsv.  31. 

32 


rebellion  against  his  government,  and  our  contempt  of  hi,>9 
goodness.  Our  repentance  is  no  expiation.  Nor  have  we 
of  our  own,  or  were  capable  of  obliging  him  to  give  us, 
the  power  and  grace  to  repent.  Our  high  violation  of  the 
sacred  rights  and  honour  of  the  Godhead,  made  it  neces- 
sary, in  order  to  our  peace  and  reconciliation,  there  should 
be  a  sacrifice,  and  a  mediator  between  him  and  us.  He 
hath  judged  it  not  honourable  to  him,  not  becoming  him  to 
treat  with  us,  or  vouchsafe  us  favoujs  upon  other  terms. 
And  since  he  thought  it  necessary  to  inj^ist  upon  having  a 
sacrifice,  he  judged  it  necessary  too,  to  have  one  propor- 
tionable to  the  wrong  done  ;  lest  he  should  make  the  Ma- 
jesty of  heaven  cheap,  or  occasion  men  to  think  it  a  light 
matter  to  have  fundamentally  overturned  the  common 
order  which  Avas  settled  between  himself  and  men.  The 
whole  earth  could  not  have  afforded  such  a  sacrifice,  it 
must  be  supplied  from  heaven.  His  co-eternal  Son  made 
man,  and  so  uniiing  heaven  and  earth  in  his  own  person, 
undertakes  to  be  that  sacrifice,  and,  in  the  virtue  of  it,  to 
be  a  standing  continual  Mediator  between  God  and  us ; 
through  him,  and  for  his  sake,  all  acts  and  influences  of 
grace  are  to  proceed  towards  us.  No  sin  is  to  be  forgiven, 
no  grace  to  be  conferred,  but  upon  his  account.  'Tis  reck- 
oned most  God-like,  most  suitable  to  the  Divine  greatnc*;s, 
once  offended,  to  do  nothing  that  shall  import  favour  to- 
wards sinners,  but  upon  his  constant  interposition.  Him 
hath  he  set  over  us,  and  directed  that  all  our  applications 
to  himself,  and  all  our  expectations  from  him,  should  be 
through  him.  ^  Him  hath  he  exalted  to  be  a  Prince  and  a 
Saviour,  togiveus  repentance  and  remission  of  sins.  Now 
to  one  so  high  in  power  over  us,  he  expects  we  should  pay 
a  suitable  homage.  That  homage  the  Holy  Scripture  calls 
by  the  name  of  faith,  believing  on  him.  God  halh  set  him 
forth  to  be  a  propitiation,  through  faith  in  his  blood,  to  de- 
clare his  righteousness  for  the  remission  of  sins  that  are 
past,  through  the  forbearance  of  God;  to  declare  his 
righteousness,  that  he  might  be  just,  and  the  justifier  of 
him  which  believeth  in  Jesus,  Rom.  iii.  25,  26.  So  that 
when  by  repentance  we  turn  to  God,  as  our  end,  we  must 
also  apply  ourselves  by  faith,  to  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  as 
our  way  to  that  end.  "Which,  till  we  do,  we  are  in  rebeU 
lion  still,  and  know  not  what  belongs  to  our  peace.  He  in- 
sists that  his  Son,  into  whose  hands  he  hath  committed  our 
affairs,  should  be  honoui-ed  by  us,  as  he  himself  requires 
to  be,  John  v.  23. 

Now  these  two  things  sum  up  our  part  of  the  covenant 
between  God  and  us.  By  repentance  we  again  take  God 
for  our  God.  Repenting  we  return  to  him  as  our  God. 
By  faith  we  take  his  son  for  our  Prince  and  Saviour. 
These  things,  by  the  tenor  of  the  evangelical  covenant, 
are  required  of  us.  Peace  is  settled  between  God  and  us, 
(as  it  is  usually  with  men  towards  one  another  alter  mu- 
tual hostilities)  by  striking  a  covenant.  And  in  our  case, 
it  is  a  covenant  by  sacrifice,  as  you  have  seen.  Nor  are 
harder  terms  than  these  imposed  upon  us.  Dost  thou  now, 
sinner,  apprehend  thyself  gone  oft'  from  God  1  and  find  a 
war  is  commenced  and  on  loot,  between  God  and  thee  ]  He 
can  easily  conquer  and  crush  thee  to  nothing,  but  heoflers 
thee  terms  of  peace,  upon  which  he  is  willing  to  enter  in- 
to covenant  with  thee.  Dost  thou  like  his  terms  1  Art 
thou  willing  to  return  to  him,  and  take  him  a?ain  for  thy 
God"?  To  resign  and  commit  thj-self  with  unfeigned  trust 
and  subjection  into  the  hands  of  his  Son  thy  Redeemer  1 
"  These  are  the  things  which  belong  to  thy  peace."  See 
that  thou  now  know  them. 

2.  But  what  knowledge  of  them  is  it  that  is  here  meant  1 
The  thing  speaks  itself.  It  is  not  a  mere  contemplative 
knowledge.  We  must  so  know  them  as  to  do  them ;  other- 
wise the  increase  of  knowledge  is  the  increase  of  sorrow. 
Thy  guilt  and  misery  will  be\he  greater.  To  know  any 
thing  that  concerns  our  practice,  is  to  no  purpose  if  we  do 
not  "practice  it.  It  was  a  Hebrew  form  of  speech,  and  is 
a  common  form,  bv  words  of  knowledge  to  imply  practice. 
It  being  taken  for  "granted  that  in  matters  so  very  reason- 
able and  important,  if  what  M'e  are  to  do  once  be  rightly 
known,  it  will  be  done.  Thus  elsewhere  the  same 
?reat  requisites  to  eternal  life  and  blessedness  are  ex- 
pressed by  our  Lord.  This  is  life  eternal,  to  Icnow  thee 
the  only  true  God,  and  Jesus  Christ,  whom  thou  hast  sent : 


438 


THE  REDEEMER'S  TEARS 


it  being  supposed  and  taken  for  granted  that  a  true,  vivid 
knowledge  of  God  and  Christ  will  immediately  form  the 
soul  to  all  suitable  dispositions  and  deportments  towards 
the  one  and  the  other;  and  consequently  to  all  men  also, 
as  Chi'istian  precepts  do  direct  to  all  the  acts  of  sobriety, 
justice,  and  charity,  unto  which  the  law  of  Christ  obliges. 
An  habitual  course  of  sin  in  any  kind,  is  inconsistent 
with  this  knowledge  of  the  things  of  our  peace,  and  there- 
fore with  our  peace  itself.  All  sin  is  in  a  true  sense  re- 
ducible to  ignorance  ;  and  customary  sinning  into  total 
destitution  of  Divine  knowledge.  According  to  the  usual 
style  of  the  sacred  writings,  1  Cor.  xv.  34.  Awake  to 
righteousness,  and  sin  not ;  for  some  have  not  the  know- 
ledge of  God.  3  John  ii.  He  that  sinneth,  i.  e.  that  is  a 
doer  of  sin,  h  KaKoroiiov,  a  wurkcr  of  iniquity,  hath  not  seen 
God. 

II.  Such  as  live  under  the  Gospel  have  a  day,  or  a 
present  opportunity,  for  the  obtaining  the  knowledge  of 
these  things  immediately  belonging  to  their  peace,  and  of 
Avhatsoever  is  besides  necessary  thereunto.  I  say  nothing 
what  opportunities  they  have  who  never  lived  under  the 
Gospel,  who  yet  no  doubt  might  generally  know  more 
than  they  do ;  and  know  better  what  they  do  know.  It 
suffices  us  who  enjoy  the  Gospel,  to  understand  our  own  ad- 
vantages thereby.  Nor,  as  to  those  who  do  enjoy  it,  is 
everyone's  day  of  equal  clearness.  How  few  in  compa- 
rison, have  ever  seen  such  a  day  as  Jerusalem  at  this  time 
did  !  made  by  the  immediate  beams  of  the  Sun  of  righte- 
ousness !  our  Lord  himself  vouchsafing  to  be  their  In- 
structor, so  speaking  as  never  man  did ;  and  with  such 
authority  as  far  outdid  their  other  teachers,  and  astonished 
the  hearers.  In  what  transports  did  he  use  to  leave  those  that 
heard  him,  wheresoever  he  came,  wondering  at  the  gra- 
cious words  that  came  out  of  his  mouth !  And  with  what 
mighty  and  beneficial  works  was  he  wont  to  recommend 
his  doctrine,  shining  in  the  glorious  power,  and  savouring 
of  the  abundant  mercy  of  heaven,  so  as  every  apprehen- 
sive mind  might  see  the  Deity  was  incarnate,  God  was 
come  doHTi  to  treat  with  men,  and  allure  them  into  the 
knowledge  and  love  of  himself  The  word  was  made 
flesh.  What  unprejudiced  mind  might  not  perceive  it  to 
be  so  1  He  was  there  manifested  and  veiled  at  once ;  both 
expressions  are  used  concerning  the  same  matter.  The 
Divine  beams  were  somewhat  obscured,  but  did  yet  ray 
through  that  vail :  so  that ''  his  glory  was  beheld  as  the 
glory  of  the  only  begotten  Son  of  the  Father,  full  of  grace 
and  truth.  This  Sun  shone  with  a  mild  and  benign,  but 
with  a  powerful,  vivifying  light.  In  him  was  life,  and 
that  life  was  the  light  of  men.  Such  a  light  created 
unto  the  Jews  this  their  day.  Happy  Jews,  if  they 
had  understood  their  own  happiness  !  And  the  days  that 
followed,  to  them  (for  awhile)  and  the  gentile  world  were 
not  inferior,  in  some  respects  brighter  and  more  glorious, 
(the  more  copious  gift  of  the  Holy  Ghost  being  reserved 
unto  the  crowning  and  enthroning  of  the  victorious  Re- 
deemer,) when  the  everlasting  Gospel  flew  like  lightning 
to  the  uttermost  ends  of  the  earth ;  and  the  word  *=  which  be- 
gan to  be  spoken  by  the  Lord  himself,  was  confirmed  by 
them  that  heard  him,  God  also  himself  bearing  them  wit- 
ness, with  signs,  and  wonders,  and  gifts  of  the  Holy 
Ghost.  No  such  day  hath  been  seen  this  many  an  age. 
Yet  whithersoever  this  same  Gospel,  for  substance,  comes, 
it  also  makes  a  day  of  the  same  kind,  and  affords  always 
true,  though  diminished  light ;  whereby,  however,  the 
things  of  our  peace  might  be  understood  and  known.  The 
written  Gospel  varies  not;  and  if  it  be  but  simply  and 
plainly  proposed,  (though  to  some  it  be  proposed  with  more 
advantage,  to  some  with  less,  yet,)  still  we  have  the  same 
things  immediately  relating  to  our  peace  extant  before  our 
eyes ;  and  divers  things  besides,  which  it  concerns  us  to  be 
acquainted  with,  that  we  may  the  more  distinctly  and  to 
better  purpose  understand  these  things.     For  instance, 

1.  We  have  the  true  and  distinct  state  of  the  quarrel 
between  God  and  us.  Pagans  have  understood  somewhat 
of  the  apostacy  of  man  from  God ;  that  he  is  not  in  the 
same  state  wherein  he  was  at  first.  But  while  they  have 
understood  that  something  was  amiss,  they  could  scarce 
tell  what.  The  Gospel  reveals  the  universal  pravity  of  the 


b  John  i,  14. 
e  Eph.  iv. 


c  Heb.  ii.  4. 


d  Rom.  iii. 
f  Rom.  \m. 


degenerate  nature  even  of  all  men,  and  of  every  faculty 
in  man.  ^  That  there  is  none  that  doth  good  ;  no  not  one; 
and  that  every  one  is  altogether  become  filthy  and  impure, 
that  there  is  an  ^  entire  old  man  to  be  put  ofi",  wholly  cor- 
rupt by  deceivable  lusts;  that  the  a)Cjod7roXis,the  noblest  pow- 
ers, are  vitiated,  the  mind  and  conscience  defiled ;  that  the 
spirit  of  the  mind  needs  renewing,  is  sunk  into  carnality ; 
and  that  the  carnaHmind  is  enmity  against  God,  and  is 
not  subject  to  his  law,  nor  can  be,  nor  capable  of  savour- 
ing the  things  of  God ;  that  the  sinner  is  in  the  flesh,  under 
the  dominion  of  power,  and  in  the  possession  of  the  fleshly, 
sensual  nature,  and  can  therefore  neither  obey  God,  nor 
enjoy  him  ;  that  it  is  become  impossible  to  him  either  to 
please  God,  or  be  pleased  with  him.  That  the  sinner's 
quarrel  therefore  with  God  is  about  the  most  appropriate 
rights  of  the  Godhead;  the  controversy  is  who  shall  be 
God,  which  is  the  supreme  authority,  and  which  is  the  su- 
preme good.  The  former  peculiarity  of  the  Godhead,  the 
lapsed  creature  is  become  so  insolent,  as  to  usurp  and  ar- 
rogate to  himself.  When  he  is  become  so  much  less  than 
a  man  (a  very  beast)  he  will  be  a  god.  His  sensual  will 
shall  be  his  only  law.  He  lives  and  walks  after  the  flesh, 
serves  divers  lusts  and  pleasures,  and  sa3's,  "  Who  is  the 
Lord  over  mel"  But  being  conscious  that  he  is  not  self- 
sufficient,  that  he  must  be  beholden  to  somewhat  foreign  to 
himself  for  his  satisfaction,  and  finding  nothing  else  suit- 
able to  his  sensual  inclination;  that  other  divine  pecu- 
liarity, to  be  the  supreme  good,  he  places  upon  the  sensi- 
ble world;  and  for  this  purpose  that  shall  be  his  god;  so 
that  between  himself  and  the  world  he  attempts  to  share 
the  undivided  Godhead.  This  is  a  controversy  of  a  high 
nature,  and  about  other  matters  than  even  the  Jewish 
Rabbins  thought  of,  who,  when  Jerusalem  was  destroyed, 
supposed  God  was  angry  with  them  for  their  neglect  of  the 
recitation  of  their  phylacteries  morning  and  evening;  or 
that  they  were  not  respectful  enough  of  one  another ;  or 
that  distance  enough  was  not  observed  between  superiors 
and  inferiors,  &c.  The  gospel  impleads  men  as  rebels 
against  their  rightful  Lord ;  but  of  this  treason  against 
the  Majesty  of  heaven  men  little  suspect  themselves  till 
they  are  told.  The  Gospel  tells  them  so  plainly,  r.  presents 
the  matter  in  so  clear  light,  that  they  need  only  to  contem- 
plate themselves  in  that  light,  and  they  may  see  that  so  it 
is.  Men  may  indeed,  by  resolved,  stiff  winking,  create  to 
themselves  a  darkness  amidst  the  clearest  light.  But  open 
thine  eyes  man,  thou  that  livest  under  the  gospel,  set  thy- 
self to  view  thine  own  soul,  thou  wilt  find  it  is  day  with 
thee  ;  thou  hast  a  day,  by  being  under  the  Gospel,  and  light 
enough  to  see  that  this  is  the  posture  of  thy  soul,  and  the 
state  of  thy  case  God-ward.  And  it  is  a  great  matter  to- 
wards the  understanding  the  things  of  thy  peace,  to  know 
aright  what  is  the  true  state  of  the  quarrel  between  God 
and  thee. 

2.  The  Gospel  aflfords  light  to  know  what  the  issue  of 
this  quarrel  is  sure  to  be,  if  it  go  on,  and  there  be  no  re- 
conciliation. It  gives  us  other  and  plainer  accounts  of  the 
punishment  of  the  other  world,  more  fully  represents  the 
extremity  and  perpetuity  of  the  future  miseries,  and  state 
of  perdition  appointed  for  the  ungodly  world  ;  speaks  out 
concerning  the  s  "  Tophet  prepared  of  old,  the  ^  lake  of 
fire  and  brimstone ;"  shows  the  miseries  of  that  state  to  be 
the  immediate  effects  of  Divine  displeasure ;  that  "  the 
breath  of  the  Almighty  as  a  river  of  brimstone"  always 
foments  those  flames  ;  that  "  indignation  and  wrath  cause  ■ 
the  tribulation  and  anguish"  which  must  be  the  portion  of 
evil  doers ;  and  how  k  "  fearful  a  thing  it  is  to  fall  into  the 
hands  of  the  living  God  !"  Gives  us  to  understand  what 
accession  men's  own  unaltered  vicious  habits  will  have  to 
their  miseries;  their  own  outrageous  lusts  and  passions, 
which  here  they  made  it  their  business  to  satisfy,  becoming 
their  insatiable  tormentors  ;  that  they  are  to  receive  i  "  the 
things  done  in  the  body,  according  to  what  they  have  done ; 
and  that  ™  "  what  they  have  sowed,  the  same  also  they  are 
to  reap  ;"  and  what  their  own  guilty  reflections  will  con- 
tribute, the  bitings  and  gnawings  of  the  worm  that  dies 
not,  the  venomous  corrosions  of  the  viper  bred  in  their 
own  bosoms,  and  now  become  a  full-grown  serpent ;  what 
the  society  and  insultation  of  devils,  with  whom  they  are 


;  Isa.  XXX. 
L  Heb.  X, 


h  Rev.  XXI. 
1  2Cot.  V. 


i  Rom.  ii. 
in  Gal.  vi. 


WEPT  OVER  LOST  SOULS. 


439 


to  partake  in  woes  and  torments,  and  by  whom  they  have 
been  seduced  and  trained  into  that  cursed  partnership  and 
communion  ;  and  that  this  fire  wherein  they  are  to  be  tor- 
mented together,  is  to  be  everlasting,  "  a  tire  never  to  be 
quenched."  If  men  be  left  to  their  own  conjectures  only, 
teaching  the  danger  they  incur  by  continuing  and  keeping 
up  a  war  with  heaven,  and  are  to  make  their  own  hell,  and 
that  it  be  the  creature  only  of  their  own  imagination ;  'tis 
like  they  will  make  it  as  easy  and  favourable  as  they  can  ; 
and  so  are  little  likely  to  be  urged  earnestly  to  sue  for 
peace  by  the  imagination  of  a  tolerable  hell.  But  if  they 
understand  it  to  be  altogether  intolerable,  this  may  make 
them  bestir  themselves,  and  think  the  favour  of  God  worth 
the  seeking.  The  Gospel  imports  favour  and  kindness  to 
you,  when  it  imports  most  of  terror,  in  telling  you  so  plain- 
ly the  worst  of  your  case  if  you  go  on  lu  a  sinful  course. 
It  makes  you  a  day,  by  which  you  may  make  a  truer  judg- 
ment of  the  blackness,  darkness,  and  horror  of  that  ever- 
lasting night  that  is  coming  on  upon  you ;  and  lets  you 
know  I  hat  black  and  endless  night  is  introduced  by  a  ter- 
rible preceding  day,  that  day  of  the  Lord  the  business 
whereof  is  judgment.  They  that  live  under  the  Gospel 
cannot  pretend  they  are  in  darkness  so  as  that  day  should 
overtake  them  as  a  thief;  and  that,  by  surprise,  they  should 
be  doomed  and  abandoned  to  the  regions  of  darkness. 
The  Gospgljbrewarns  you  plainly  of  all  this  ;  which  it 
does  not  merely  to  fright  and  torment  you  before  the  time, 
but  that  you  may  steer  your  course  another  way,  and  es- 
cape the  place  and  state  of  torment.  It  only  says  this  that 
it  may  render  the  more  acceptable  to  you  what  it  hath  to 
say  besides ;  and  only  threatens  you  with  these  things  if 
there  be  no  reconciliation  between  God  and  you.  But  then 
at  the  same  time, 

3.  It  also  represents  God  to  j'^ou  as  reconcileable  through 
a  Mediator.  In  that  Gospel  "  peace  is  preached  to  you, 
by  Jesus  Christ."  That  Gospel  lets  you  see  God  in  Christ 
reconciling  the  world  unto  himself,  that  sin  may  not  be 
imputed  to  them.  That  Gospel  proclaims  glory  to  God  in 
the  highest,  peace  on  earth,  good  will  towards  men.  So 
did  the  voices  of  angels  sum  up  the  glad  tidings  of  the 
Gospel,  when  that  Prince  of  peace  was  born  into  the 
world.  It  tells  you  "  God  desires  not  the  death  of  sinners, 
but  that  they  may  turn  and  live ;"  that  he  would  "  have  all 
men  be  saved,  and  come  to  the  knowledge  of  the  truth ;" 
that  he  is  "  long-suiTering  towards  them,  not  willing  that 
any  should  perish,  but  that  all  should  come  to  repentance," 
that  he  "so  loved  the  world  that  he  gave  his  only-begotten 
Son,  that  whosoever  believes  on  him  should  not  perish, 
but  have  everlasting  life."  The  rest  of  the.  world  can't  but 
collect,  from  darker  intimations,  God's  favourable  propen- 
sions  towards  them.  He  spares  them,  is  patient  towards 
them,  that  herein  "  his  goodness  might  lead  them  to  re- 
pentance." He  sustains  them,  lets  them  dwell  in  a  world 
which  they  might  understand  was  of  his  making,  and 
whereof  he  is  absolute  Lord.  "  They  live,  move,  and 
have  their  being  in  him,  that  ihey  might  seek  after  him, 
and  by  feeling  find  him  out."  He  doth  them  "good,  gives 
them  rain  from  heaven  and  fruitful  seasons,  filling  their 
hearts  with  food  and  gladness."  He  lets  "  his  sun  shine 
on  them,"  whose  far  extended  beams  show  forth  his  kind- 
ness and  benignity  to  men,  even  "  to  the  utmost  ends  of 
the  earth.  For  there  is  no  speech  or  language  whither  his 
line  and  circle  reaches  not."  But  those  are  but  dull  and 
glimmering  beams  in  comparison  of  those  that  shine  from 
the  Sun  of  righteousness  through  the  gospel-revelation, 
and  in  respect  of  that  divdne  glory  which  appears  in  the 
face  of  Jesus  Christ.  How  clearly  doth  the  light  of  this 
gospel-day  reveal  God's  design  of  reducing  sinners,  and 
reconciling  them  to  himself  by  a  Redeemer !  How  canst 
thou  but  say,  sinner,  thou  hast  a  day  of  it  1  and  clear  day- 
light showing  thee  what  the  good  and  acceptable  will  of 
God  towards  thee  is  1  Thou  art  not  left  to  guess  only 
thou  raayst  be  reconciled  and  find  mercy,  and  to  grope  and 
feel  thy  way  in  the  dark,  unless  it  be  a  darkness  of  thy 
own  making.  And  whereas  a  sinner,  a  disloyal  rebellious 
creature,  that  hath  affronted  the  Majesty  of  heaven,  and 
engaged  against  himself  the  wrath  and  justice  of  his  Maker, 
and  is  unable  to  make  him  any  recompense,  can  have  no 
reason  to  hope  God  will  show  him  mercy,  and  be  recon- 
ciled to  him  for  his  own  sake,  or  for  any  thing  he  can  do 


to  oblige  or  induce  him  to  it ;  the  same  gospel  shows  you 
plainly,  it  is  for  the  Redeemer's  sake,  and  what  he  hath 
done  and  sufl'ered  to  procure  it.  But  inasmuch  also  as  the 
sinner  may  easily  apprehend,  that  it  can  never  answer  the 
necessities  of  his  state  and  case,  that  God  only  be  not  his 
enem}^  that  he  forbear  hostilities  towards  him,  pursue  him 
not  with  vengeance  to  his  destruction.  For  he  finds  him- 
self an  indigent  creature,  and  he  needs  somewhat  beyond 
what  he  hath  ever  yet  met  with  to  make  him  happy ;  that 
it  is  uneasy  and  grievous  to  wander  up  and  down  with 
craving  desires  among  varieties  of  objects  that  look  spe- 
ciouslj',  but  which,  either  he  cannot  so  far  compass  as  to 
make  a  trial  «  hat  there  is  in  them,  or  wherewith,  upon 
trial,  he  finds  himself  mocked  and  disappointed,  and  that 
really  they  have  nothing  in  them  ;  he  finds  himself  a  mor- 
tal creature,  and  considers  thai  if  he  had  all  that  he  can 
covet  in  this  world,  the  increase  of  his  present  enjoyments 
doth  but  increase  unto  him  trouble  and  angni.sh  of  heart, 
while  he  thinks  what  great  things  he  must  shortly  leave 
and  lose  for  ever ;  to  go  he  knows  not  whither,  into  dark- 
some, gloomy  regions ;  where  he  cannot  so  much  as 
imaeine  any  thing  suitable  to  his  inclinations  and  desires. 
For  he  knows  all  that  is  delectable  to  his  present  sense  he 
must  here  leave  behind  him ;  and  he  cannot  divest  him- 
self of  all  apprehensions  of  a  future  state,  wherein  if  God 
should  make  him  sutTer  nothing,  yet,  if  he  have  nothing 
to  enjoy,  he  nnrst  be  always  miserable. 

4.  The  Gospel,  therefore,  further  represents  to  him  the 
final,  eternal  blessedness,  and  glorious  state,  which  they 
that  are  reconciled  shall  be  brought  into.  They  that  live 
under  the  Gospel  are  not  mocked  with  shadows,  and  emp- 
ty clouds,  nor  with  fabulous  elj'siums.  Nor  are  they  put 
off  with  some  unintelligible  notion  of  only  being  happy  in 
general.  But  are  told  expressly  wherein  their  happiness  is 
to  consist.  "  Life  and  immortality  are  brought  to  light  in 
the  Gospel."  'Tis  given  them  to  understand  how  great  a 
good  is  laid  up  in  store.  "  The  things  which  eye  hath  not 
seen,  and  ear  not  heard,  and  which  otherwise  could  not 
have  entered  into  the  heart  of  man,  the  things  of  God's 
present  and  eternal  kingdom,  are  set  in  view.  It  shows 
the  future  state  of  the  reconciled  shall  consist  not  onl)'  in 
freedom  from  what  is  evil,  but  in  the  enjoyment  of  the 
best  and  most  delectable  good ;  that  God  himself  in  all  his 
glorious  fulness  will  be  their  eternal  and  most  satisfying 
portion  ;  that  their  blessedness  is  to  lie  in  the  perpetual 
Iruitive  vision  of  his  blessed  face,  and  in  the  fulness  of  joy, 
and  the  everlasting  pleasures  which  the  Divine  presence 
itself  doth  perpetually  afibrd.  And  whereas  their  glorious 
Redeemer  is  so  nearly  allied  to  them,  flesh  of  their  flesh, 
who  inasmuch  as  the  children  were  made  partakers  of 
flesh  and  blood,  he  also  himself  likewise  took  part  of  the 
same,  (Heb.  ii.  14.)  and  is  become  by  special  title  their  au- 
thorized Lord,  they  are  assured  (ofthat,  than  which  nothing 
should  be  more  grateful  to  them)  "  they  shall  be  for  ever 
with  the  Lord  ;"  that  they  are  to  be  where  he  is,  "  to  be- 
hold his  glory,"  and  shall  he  "joint-heirs  with  Christ," 
and  be  "  glorified  together  with  him,"  shall  partake,  accord- 
ing to  theirmcasure  and  capacity,  in  the  same  blessedness 
which  he  enjoys.  Thou  canst  not  pretend,  sinner,  who  liv- 
est  under  the  Gospel,  that  thou  hast  not  the  light  of  the 
day  to  show  thee  what  blessedness  is.  Heaven  is  opened 
to  thee.  Glory  beams  dow^l  from  thence  upon  thee  to  create 
thee  a  day,  by  the  light  whereof  thou  mayst  see  with  sufli- 
cient  clearness,  what  is  "  the  inheritance  of  the  saints  in 
light."  And  though  all  be  not  told  thee,  and  it  do  not  in 
everj'  respect  appear  what  we  shall  be ;  so  much  may  be 
foreknown,  that  when  he  shall  appear,  we  shall  be  like  him, 
and  shall  .see  him  as  he  is,  1  John  iii.  1,  2.  And  because 
the  heart,  as  yet  carnal,  can  savour  little  of  all  this;  and 
finding  itself  strange  and  disafl^ected  to  God.  aflecting  now 
to  be  without  Christ  and  without  God  in  the  world,  may 
easily  apprehend  it  impossible  to  it  to  be  happy  in  an  un- 
desired  good,  or  that  it  can  enjoy  what  it  dislikes ;  or  in 
the  mean  time,  walk  in  a  way  to  which  it  finds  in  itself 
nothing  but  titter  averseness  and  disinclination. 

5.  The  Gospel  further  shows  us  what  is  to  be  wrought 
and  done  in  us  to  attemper  and  frame  our  spirits  to  our 
future  state  and  present  way  to  it.  It  lets  us  know  we  are 
to  be  born  again,  born  from  above,  born  of  God,  made 
partakers  of  a  divine  nature,  that  will  make  the  temper  of 


110 


THE  REDEEMER'S  TEARS 


our  spirits  connatural  to  the  Divine  presence.  That  where- 
as "  God  is  light,  and  with  liim  is  no  darkness  at  all,"  we 
"  who  were  darkness  shall  be  made  light  in  the  Lord :" 
that  we  are  to  be  "  begotten  again  to  a  lively  hope,  to  the 
eternal  and  \mdefiled  inheritance  that  is  reserved  in  the 
heavens  for  us  :"  that  we  are  thus  to  be  made  "  meet  to  be 
partakers  of  that  inheritance  of  the  saints  in  light."  And 
as  we  are  to  be  eternally  conversant  with  Christ,  we  are 
here  to  put  on  Christ,  to  have  Christ  in  us  the  hope  of  glo- 
ry. And  whereas  only  the  way  of  holiness  and  obedience 
leads  to  blessedness,  that  we  are  to  be  "  created  in  Christ 
Jesus  to  good  works  to  walk  in  them."  And  shall  there- 
upon find  the  ways  prescribed  to  us  by  him,  who  is  the 
Wisdom  of  God,  to  be  all  "ways  of  pleasantness  and 
paths  of  peace:"  that  he  will  "  put  his  Spirit  into  us,  and 
cause  us  to  walk  in  his  statutes,"  and  to  account  that  "  in 
keeping  them  there  is  great  reward."  And  thus  all  that 
is  contained  in  that  mentioned  summary  of  the  things  be- 
longing to  our  peace,  "  repentance  towards  God,  and  faith 
ia  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,"  will  all  become  easy  to  us,  and 
as  the  acts  of  nature  ;  proceeding  from  that  new  and  holy 
nature  imparted  to  us. 

And  whosoever  thou  art  that  livest  under  the  Gospel, 
canst  thou  deny  that  it  is  day  with  thee,  as  to  all  this  1 
Wast  thou  never  told  of  this  great  necessary  heart-change  1 
Didst  thou  never  hear  that  the  "  tree  must  be  made  good 
that  the  fruit  might  be  good  1"  that  thou  must  become  a 
"  new  creature,  have  old  things  done  away,  and  all  things 
made  new  1"  Didst  thou  never  hear  of  the  necessity  of 
having  "  a  new  heart,  and  a  right  spirit"  created  and  re- 
newed in  thee ;  that  except  thou  wert  "  born  again,"  or  from 
above,  (as  that  expression  may  be  read,)  thou  couldst  "ne- 
ver enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God  1"  Wast  thou  kept  in 
ignorance  that  a  form  of  godliness  without  the  power  of 
it  would  never  do  thee  goodi  that  a  name  to  live  without 
the  principle  of  the  holy,  divine  life,  would  never  save  thee? 
that  a  specious  outside,  that  all  thy  external  performances, 
while  thou  wentest  with  an  unrenewed,  earthly,  carnal 
heart,  would  never  advantage  thee  as  to  thy  eternal  salva- 
tion and  blessedness  '{  And  this  might  help  thine  under- 
standing concerning  the  nature  of  thy  future  blessedness, 
and  will  be  found  most  agreeable  to  it,  being  aright  under- 
stood ;  for  as  thou  art  not  to  be  blessed  by  a  blessedness 
without  tliee  and  distant  from  thee,  but  inwrought  into  thy 
temper,  and  intimately  united  with  thee,  nor  glorified  by 
an  external  glory,  but  by  a  glory reveale^l  within  thee;  so 
nor  canst  thou  be  qualified  for  that  blessed  glorious  slate 
otherwise  than  by  having  the  temper  of  thy  soul  made  ha- 
bitually holy  and  good.  As  what  a  good  man  partakes  of 
happiness  here  is  such,  that  he  is  "  satisfied  from  himself;" 
so  it  must  be  hereafter,  not  originally  from  himself,  but  by 
divine  communication  made  most  intimate  to  him.  Didst 
thou  not  know  that  it  belonged  to  thy  peace,  to  have  a 
peace-maker  1  and  that  the  Son  of  God  was  he  1  and  that 
he  makes  not  the  peace  of  those  that  despise  and  refuse 
him,  or  that  receive  him  not,  that  come  not  to  him,  and 
are  not  willing  to  come  to  God  by  him'?  Couldst  thou 
think,  living  under  the  Gospel,  that  the  reconciliation  be- 
tween God  and  thee  was  not  to  be  mutual  1  that  he  would 
be  reconciled  to  thee  while  thou  wouldst  not  be  reconciled 
to  him,  or  shouldst  still  bear  towards  him  a  disaffected,  im- 
placable heart  1  For  couldst  thou  be  so  void  of  all  under- 
standing as  not  to  apprehend  what  the  Gospel  was  sent  to 
thee  for"?  or  why  it  was  necessary  to  be  preached  to  thee, 
or  that  thou  shouldst  hear  it  1  Who  was  to  be  reconciled 
by  a  Gospel  preached  to  thee  but  thyself?  who  was  to  be 
persuaded  by  a  gospel  sent  to  thee  1  God,  or  thou  1  Who  is 
to  be  persuaded  but  the  unwilling  1  The  Gospel,  as  thou 
hast  been  told,  reveals  God  willing  to  be  reconciled,  and 
thereupon  beseeches  thee  to  be  reconciled  to  him.  Or 
could  it  seem  likely  to  thee  thou  couldst  ever  be  reconciled 
to  God,  and  continue  unreconciled  to  thy  Reconciler  1  To 
what  purpose  is  there  a  days-man,  a  middle  person  be- 
tween God  and  thee,  if  thou  wilt  not  meet  him  in  that 
middle  person  ?  Dost  thou  not  know  that  Christ  avails 
thee  nothing  if  thou  .still  stand  at  a  distance  with  him,  if 
thou  dost  not  unite  and  adjoin  thyself  to  him,  or  art  not  in 
himl  And  dost  thou  not  again  know  that  Divine  power 
and  grace  must  unite  thee  to  him  ?  and  that  a  work  must 

31  2  Cor.  V.  17.  o  1  Cor.  j.  30. 


be  wrought  and  done  upon  thy  soul  by  an  Almighty  hand, 
by  God  himself,  a  mighty  transforming  work,  to  make 
thee  capable  of  that  union  1 "  that  whosoever  is  in  Christ 
is  a  new  creature'?  <>  that  thou  must  be  of  God  in  Christ 
Jesus,  who  then  is  made  unto  thee  of  God  also  wisdom, 
righteousness,  sanctification,  and  redemption  ;  every  way 
an.swering  the  exigency  of  thy  case,  as  thou  art  a  foolish, 
guilty,  impure,  and  enslaved,  or  lost  creature  1  Didst  thou 
never  hear,  that  none  can  come  to  Christ  but  whom  the 
Father  draws  1  and  that  he  draws  the  reasonable  souls  of 
men  not  violently  or  against  their  wills,  (he  draws,  yet 
drags  them  not,)  but  makes  them  willing  in  the  day  of 
power,  by  giving  a  new  nature  and  new  inclinations  to 
them  1  'Tis  sure  with  thee  not  dark  night,  not  a  dubious 
twilight,  but  broad  day  as  to  all  this. 

Yes,  perhaps  thou  mayst  say,  but  this  makes  my  case 
the  worse,  not  the  better ;  for  it  gives  me  at  length  to  un- 
derstand that  what  is  necessary  to  my  peace  and  welfare 
is  impo,ssible  to  me  ;  and  so  the  light  of  my  day  doth  but 
serve  to  let  me  see  myself  miserable  and  undone,  and  that 
I  have  nothing  to  do  to  relieve  and  help  myself.  I  there- 
fore add, 

6.  That  by  being  xinder  the  Gospel,  men  have  not  oniy 
light  to  understand  whatsoever  is  any  way  necessary  to 
their  peace,  but  opportunity  to  obtain  that  communication 
of  divine  power  and  grace  whereby  to  comply  with  the 
terms  of  it.  Whereupon,  if  this  be  made  good;  you  have 
not  a  pretence  left  you  to  say  your  case  is  the  worse,  or  that 
you  receive  any  prejudice  by  what  the  Gospel  reveals  of 
j^our  owTi  impotency  to  relieve  and  help  yourselves ;  or 
determines  touching  the  terms  of  your  peace  and  salvation, 
making  such  things  necessary  thereto,  as  are  to  you  impos- 
sible, and  out  of  your  own  present  power ;  unless  it  be  a 
prejudice  to  you  not  to  have  your  pride  gratified ;  and  that 
God  hath  pitched  upon  such  a  method  for  your  salvation, 
as  shall  wholly  turn  to  the  praise  of  the  glory  of  his  grace, 
or  that  you  are  to  be  of  him  p  in  Christ  Jesus — that  whoso- 
ever glories  might  glorj''  in  the  Lord.  Is  it  for  a  sinner 
that  hath  deserved,  and  is  ready  to  perish,  to  insist  upon 
being  saved  with  reputation  ?  or  to  envy  the  great  God, 
upon  whose  plea.sure  it  wholly  depends  whether  he  shall 
be  saved  or  not  saved,  the  entire  glory  of  saving  him'? 
For  otherwise,  excepting  the  mere  business  of  glory  and 
reputation  ;  is  it  not  all  one  to  you  whether  you  have  the 
power  in  your  own  hands  of  changing  your  hearts,  of  be- 
ing the  authors  to  yourselves  of  that  holy,  new  nature,  out 
of  which  actual  faith  and  repentance  are  to  spring,  or  whe- 
ther you  may  have  it  from  the  God  of  all  grace,  flowing  to 
you  from  its  own  proper  divine  fountain.  Your  case  is  not 
sure  really  the  worse  that  your  salvation  from  first  to  last 
is  to  be  all  of  grace,  and  that  it  is  impossible  to  you  to  re- 
pent and  believe,  while  it  is  not  simply  impossible;  but 
that  he  can  efiectually  enable  you  thereto,  unto  whom  all 
things  are  possible ;  supposing  that  he  will :  whereof  by 
and  by.  Nay,  and  it  is  more  glorious  and  honourable,  even 
to  you,  if  you  understand  yourselves,  that  your  case  is  so 
stated  as  it  is.  The  Gospel  indeed  plainly  tells  you  that 
your  repentance  must  be  given  you.  Christ  "is  exalted 
to  be  a  Prince  and  a  Saviour,  to  give  repentance  and  re- 
mission of  sins."  And  so  must  your  faith,  and  that  frame 
of  spirit  which  is  the  principle  of  all  good  works.  By  grace 
ye  are  saved,  through  faith,  not  of  yourselves,  it  is  the  gift 
of  God :  not  of  works,  lest  any  man  should  boast ;  for  we 
are  his  workmanship,  created  in  Christ  Jesus  unto  good 
works,  which  God  hath  before  ordained  that  we  should 
walk  in  them,  Ephes.  ii.  8 — 10.  Is  it  more  glorious  to  have 
nothing  in  you  but  what  is  self-sprung,  than  to  have  your 
souls  the  seat  and  receptacle  of  divine  communications ;  of 
so  excellent  things  as  could  have  no  other  than  a  heavenly 
original "?  If  it  were  not  ab.surd  and  impossible  you 
should  be  self-begotten,  is  it  not  much  more  glorious  to 
be  born  of  God  '?  As  they  are  said  to  be  that  receive 
Christ:  John  i.  12,  13.  But  as  many  as  received  him,  to 
them  gave  he  power  to  become  the  sons  of  God,  even  to 
them  that  believe  on  his  name  :  which  were  born,  not  of 
blood,  nor  of  the  will  of  the  flesh,  nor  of  the  will  of  man, 
but  of  God. 

And  now  that,  by  being  under  the  Gospel,  you  have  the 
opportunity  of  getting  that  grace,  which  is  necessary  to 

p  1  Cot.  i.  30,  3» 


WEPT  OVER  LOST  SOULS. 


441 


your  peace  and  salvation  ;  }'^ou  may  see,  if  you  consider 
what  the  Gospel  is,  and  was  designed  for.  It  is  the  minis- 
tration of  the  Spirit;  that  Spirit  by  which  you  are  to  be 
born  again,  John  iii.  3,  5,  6.  The  work  of  regeneration 
consists  in  the  impregnating,  and  making  lively  and  effica- 
cious, in  you  the  holy  truths  contained  in  the  Gospel.  Of 
his  own  good  will  begat  he  us  with  the  word  of  truth,  that 
we  should  be  a  kind  of  first-fruits  of  his  creatures,  James 
i.  18.  And  again,  being  born  again,  not  of  corruptible  seed, 
but  of  incorruptible,  by  the  word  of  God,  1  Pet.  i.  23.  So 
our  Saviour  prays :  Sanctify  them  through  thy  truth,  thy 
word  is  truth,  John  xvii.  17.  The  Gospel  is,  upon  this  ac- 
count, called  the  word  of  life,  Phil.  ii.  16.  as  by  which  the 
principles  of  that  divine  and  holy  life  are  implanted  in  the 
soul,  whereby  we  live  to  God,  do  what  his  Gospel  requires, 
and  hath  made  our  duty,  and  that  ends  at  length  in  eter- 
nal life.  But  you  will  say.  Shall  all  then,  that  live  under 
the  Gospel,  obtain  this  grace  and  holy  life  1  Or  if  they 
shall  not,  or,  if  so  far  as  can  be  collected,  multitudes  do 
not,  or,  perhaps,  in  some  places  that  enjoy  the  Gospel, 
very  few  do,  in  comparison  of  them  that  do  ntjt,  what  am 
I  better  1  when,  perhaps,  it  is  far  more  likely  that  I  shall 
perish  notwithstanding,  than  be  saved  1  In  answer  to  this, 
it  must  be  acknowledged,  that  all  that  live  under  the  Gos- 
pel do  not  obtain  life  and  saving  grace  by  it.  For,  then, 
there  had  been  no  occasion  for  this  lamentation  of  our 
blessed  Lord  over  the  perishing  inhaliitants  of  Jerusalem, 
as  having  lost  their  day,  and  that  the  things  of  their  peace 
were  now  hid  from  their  eyes;  and  by  that  instance  it  ap- 
pears too  possible,  that  even  the  generality  of  a  peo])le  liv- 
ing under  the  Gospel,  may  fall  at  length  into  the  like  for- 
lorn and  hopeless  condition.  But  art  thou  a  man  that  thus 
objectestl  A  reasonable  understanding  creature  1  or  dost 
thou  use  the  reason  and  understanding  of  a  man  in  object- 
ing thusl  Didst  thou  expect,  that  when  thine  own  wilful 
transgression  had  made  thee  liable  to  eternal  death  and 
wrath,  peace  and  life,  and  salvation  should  be  imposed 
upon  thee  whether  thou  wouldst  or  no,  or  notwithstand- 
ing thy  most  wilful  neglect  and  contempt  of  them,  and  all 
the  means  of  them  1  Could  it  enter  into  thy  mind,  that  a 
reasonable  soul  should  be  wrought  and  framed  for  that 
high  and  blessed  end,  whereof  it  is  radically  capable,  as  a 
stock  or  a  stone  is  for  any  use  it  is  designed  for;  without 
designing  its  own  end  or  way  to  ill  Couldst  thou  think 
the  Gospel  was  to  bring  thee  to  faith  and  repentance, 
whether  thou  didst  hear  it  or  no  1  or  ever  apply  thy  mind 
to  consider  the  meaning  of  it,  and  what  it  did  propose  and 
ofTer  to  thee  1  or  when  thou  mightest  so  easily  understand 
that  the  grace  of  God  was  necessary  to  make  it  effectual 
to  thee,  and  that  it  might  become  his  power  (or  the  instru- 
ment of  his  power)  to  thy  salvation,  couldst  thou  think  it 
concerned  thee  not  to  sue  and  supplicate  to  him  for  tliat 
grace  1  when  thy  life  lay  upon  it,  and  thy  eternal  hope  1 
Hast  thou  lain  weltering  at  the  footstool  of  the  throne  of 
grace  in  thine  own  tears,  (as  thou  hast  been  formerly  Avel- 
tering  in  thy  sins  and  impurities,)  crying  for  grace  to 
help  thee  in  this  time  of  thy  need  1  And  if  thou  think'est 
this  was  above  thee  and  without  th)''  compa.ss,  hast  thou 
done  all  that  was  within  thy  compass  in  order  to  the  ob- 
taining of  grace  at  God's  hands  1  But  here,])erhaps,  thou 
wilt  inquire,  Is  there  any  thing,  then,  to  be  done  by  us, 
whereupon  the  grace  of  God  may  be  expected  certainly 
to  follow  1     To  which  I  answer, 

1.  That  it  is  out  of  question  nothing  can  be  done  by  us 
to  deserve  it,  or  for  which  we  may  expect  it  to  follow.  It 
were  not  grace  if  we  had  obliged,  or  brought  it,  by  our 
desert,  under  former  preventive  bonds  to  lis.     And, 

2.  What  if  nothing  can  be  done  by  us  upon  v-liich  it 
may  be  certainly  expected  to  follow"?  Is  a  certainty 
of  perishing  better  than  a  high  probability  of  being 
saved  1 

3.  Such  as  live  under  the  Gospel  have  reason  to  appre- 
hend it  highly  probable  they  may  obtain  that  grace  which 
is  necessary  to  their  salvation,  if  they  be  not  wanting  to 
themselves.    For, 

4.  There  is  generally  afforded  to  such  that  which  is 
wont  to  be  called  common  grace.  I  speak  not  of  any  fur- 
ther extent  of  it,  'tis  enough  to  our  present  purpose  that 
it  extends  so  far,  as  to  them  that  live  under  the  Gospel, 
and  have  thereby  a  day  allowed  tkem  wherein  to  provide 


for  their  peace.  Now,  though  this  grace  is  not  }'-et  cer- 
tainly .saving,  yet  it  tends  to  that  which  is  so.  And  none 
have  cause  to  despair,  but  that  being  duly  improved  and 
complied  with,  it  may  end  in  it. 

And  this  is  that  which  requires  to  be  insisted  on,  and 
more  fully  evinced.  In  order  whereto  let  it  be  considered, 
that  it  is  expressly  .said  to  .such,  they  are  to  work  out  their 
salvation  with  fear  and  trembling,  for  thi.s  rea.son,  that  God 
works  (or  is  working  ianv  o  ive()yi7>^)  in  them,  i.  e.  statedly 
and  continually  at  work,  or  is  always  ready  to  work  in 
them,  to  will  and  to  do  of  his  own  good  pleasure,  Phil.  ii. 
12,  13.  The  matter  fails  not  on  his  part.  He  will  work 
on  in  order  to  their  salvation,  if  they  work  in  that  way  of 
subordinate  co-operation,  which  his  command,  and  the 
necessity  of  their  own  case,  oblige  them  unto.  And  it  is 
further  to  be  considered,  that  where  God  had  formerly 
aflbrded  the  symbols  of  his  gracious  presence,  given  his 
oracles,  and  settled  his  church,  though  yet  in  its  nonage, 
and  much  more  imperfect  state,  there  he,  however,  com- 
municated tho.se  influences  of  his  Spirit,  that  it  was  to  be 
imputed  to  themselves  if  they  came  short  ef  the  saving 
operations  of  it.  Of  such  it  was  said.  Thou  gavest  ihy 
good  Spirit  to  instruct  them,  Nehem.  ix.  20.  And  to  such. 
Turn  ye  at  my  reproof,  I  will  pour  out  my  Spirit  unto 
you.  I  will  make  known  my  words  unto  you.  Be- 
cause I  called  and  you  refused,  I  stretched  out  my  hand 
and  no  man  regarded,  but  ye  set  at  nought  my  coun- 
sel, and  despised  all  my  reproof,  I  also  will  laugh  at 
your  calamity,  &c.  Prov.  i.  23,  24.  We  see  whence  their 
destruction  came;  not  from  God's  first  restraint  of  his  Spi- 
rit, but  their  refusing,  despising,  and  setting  at  nought  his 
counsels  and  reproofs.  And  when  it  is  said,  they  rebelled 
and  vexed  his  Spirit,  and  he  therefore  turned  and  fought 
against  them,  and  became  their  enemy,  Isa.  Ixiii.  10.  it 
appears,  that  before  his  Spirit  was  not  withheld,  but  did 
variously,  and  often,  make  essays  and  attempts  upon 
them.  And  when  Stephen,  immediately  before  his  mar- 
tyrdom, thus  bespeaks  the  descendants  of  these  Je^ws,  Ye 
stift-neckcd,  and  uncircumcised, — ye  do  always  resist  the 
Holy  Ghost,  as  your  Fathers  did,  so  do  ye.  Acts  vii.  'tis 
implied  the  Ht)ly  Ghost  had  been  always  striving  from 
age  to  age  with  that  stubborn  people :  for  where  there 
is  no  counter-striving  there  can  be  no  resistance,  no  more 
than  there  can  be  a  war  on  one  side  only.  Which  also 
appears  to  have  been  the  course  of  God's  dealing  with  the 
old  world,  before  llicir  so  general  lapse  into  idolatry  and 
sensual  wickedness,  from  that  passage,  Gen.  vi.  3.  accord- 
ing to  the  more  common  reading  and  sense  of  those 
words. 

Now  whereas  the  Gospel  is  eminently  said  to  be  fhe 
ministration  of  the  Spirit  in  contradistinction  not  only  to 
the  natural  religion  of  other  nations,  but  the  divinely  in- 
stituted religion  of  the  Jews  also,  as  is  largely  discoursed 
2  Cor.  iii.  and  more  largely  through  the  Epistle  to  the 
Galatians,  especially  chap.  iv.  and  whereas  we  find  that, 
in  the  Jewish  Church,  the  Holy  Ghost  did  generally  dif- 
fuse its  influences,  and  not  otherwise  withhold  them,  than 
penally,  and  upon  great  provocation ;  iiow  much  more 
may  it  be  concluded,  that  under  the  Gospel,  the  same 
blessed  Spirit  is  very  generally  at  work  upon  the  souls  of 
men,  till  by  their  resisting,  grieving,  and  quenching  of  it, 
they  provoke  it  to  retire  tmd  withdraw  from  them. 

And  let  the  consciences  of  men  living  under  tiie  Gospel 
testify  in  the  case.  Appeal,  sinner,  to  thine  own  conscience ; 
Hast  thou  never  felt  anv  thin?  of  conviction,  by  the  word 
of  God  ]  hadst  thou  never  any  thought  injected  of  turning 
to  God,  of  reforming  thy  life,  of  making  thy  peace  1  have 
no  desires  ever  been  raised  in  thee,  no  fears  1  hast  thou 
never  had  any  tastes  and  relishes  of  pleasure  in  the  things 
of  God"?  whence  have  these  come  1  What!  from  thyself, 
who  art  not  sufficient  to  think  any  thing  as  of  thyself!  i.e. 
not  any  good  or  right  thought.  All  must  be  from  that 
good  Spirit  that  hath  been  striving  with  thee;  and  might 
still  have  been  so  imto  a  blessed  issue  for  thy  soul,  if  thou 
hadst  not  neglected  and  disobeyed  it. 

And  do  not  go  about  to  excuse  thyself  b}'  saying,  that  so 
all  oiher.s  have  done  too,  'tis  like,  at  one  time  or  other; 
and  if  that  therefore  be  the  rule  and  measure,  that  they 
that  contend  against  the  strivings  and  motions  of  God's 
Spirit  must  be  fuially  deserted  and  given  up  to  perish. 


443 


THE  REDEEMER'S  TEARS 


who  then  can  be  saved  1  Think  not  of  pleading  so  for  thy 
neglecting  and  despising  the  grace  and  Spirit  of  God.  'Tis 
true  that  herein  the  great  God  shows  his  sovereignty: 
"vvhen  all  that  enjoy  the  same  advantages  for  salvation  de- 
serve by  their  slighting  them  to  be  forsaken  alike ;  he  gives 
instances  and  makes  examples  of  just  severity,  and  of  the 
victorious  power  of  grace,  as  seems  him  good,  which  there 
will  be  further  occasion  to  speak  more  of  hereafter.  In  the 
mean  time  the  present  design  is  not  to  justify  thy  condem- 
nation but  procure  thy  salvation,  and  therefore  to  admon- 
ish and  instruct  thee,  that,  though  thou  art  not  sure,  because 
some  others  that  have  slighted  and  despised  the  grace  and 
Spirit  of  God  are  notwithstanding  conquered  and  saved 
thereby,  it  shall  therefore  fare  as  well  with  thee  ;  yet  thou 
hast  reason  to  be  confident,  it  will  be  well  and  happy  for 
thee,  if  now  thou  despise  and  slight  them  not.  And  whe- 
ther thou  do  or  not,  it  is  however  plain  that  by  being  under 
the  Gospel  thou  hast  had  a  day,  wherein  to  mind  the 
things  of  thy  peace,  though  it  is  not  told  thee  it  would  last 
always,  but  the  contrary  is  presently  to  be  told  thee. 

And  thou  mayst  now  see  'tis  not  only  a  day  in  respect 
of  Hnht  but  infitience  also;  that  thou  mightest  not  only 
know  notionally  what  belonged  thereto,  but  efficaciously 
and  practically  ;  which  you  have  heard  is  the  knowledge 
here  meant.  And  the  concurrence  of  such  light  and  in- 
fluence has  made  thee  a  season  wherein  thou  wast  to  have 
been  at  work  for  thy  soul.  The  day  is  the  proper  season 
for  work  :  when  the  night  comes  working  ceases,  both  be- 
cause that  then  light  fails,  and  because  drowsiness  and 
sloth  are  more  apt  to  possess  men.  And  the  night  will 
come.    For,  (which  is  the  next  thing  we  have  to  speak  to,) 

III.  This  day  hath  its  bounds  and  limits,  so  that  when 
it  is  over  and  lost  with  such,  the  things  of  their  peace  are 
for  ever  hid  from  their  eyes.  And  that  this  day  is  not  in- 
finite and  endless,  we  see  in  the  present  instance.  Jeru- 
salem had  her  day  ;  but  that  day  had  its  period,  we  see  it 
comes  to  this  at  last,  tliat  now  the  things  of  her  peace  are 
hid  from  her  eyes.  We  generally  see  the  same  thing,  in 
that  sinners  are  so  earnestly  pressed  to  make  use  of  the 
present  time.  To-day  if  you  will  hear  his  voice,  harden 
not  your  hearts,  Psal.  xcv.  quoted  and  urged  Heb.  iii.  7, 
8.  They  are  admonished  to  seek  the  iLord  while  he  may 
be  found,  to  call  upon  him  while  he  is  nigh.  It  seems 
some  time  he  will  not  be  found,  and  will  be  afar  ofl". 
'They  are  told  this  is  the  accepted  time,  this  is  the  day  of 
salvation. 

This  day,  with  any  place  or  people,  supposes  a  prece- 
dent night,  when  the  daj'-spring  from  on  high  had  not 
visited  their  horizon,  and  all  within  it  sat  in  darkness,  and 
in  the  region  and  shadow  of  death.  Yea,  and  there  was  a 
time,  we  know,  of  very  general  darkness,  when  the  Gos- 
pel day,  "the  day  of  visitation,"  had  not  yet  dawned  upon 
the  world;  "times  of  ignorance,"  wherein  God  as  it  were 
winked  upon  the  nations  of  the  earth ;  the  beams  of  his 
eye  did  in  a  sort  overshoot  them,  as  the  word  imcoiiwv  im- 
ports. But  when  the  eyelids  of  the  morning  open  upon 
any  people,  and  light  shines  to  them  with  direct  beams, 
they  are  noio  commanded  to  repent,  (Acts  xvii.  30.)  limit- 
ed to  the  present  point  of  time  with  such  peremptoriness, 
as  that  noble  Roman  used  towards  a  proud  prince,  asking 
time  to  deliberate  upon  the  proposal  made  to  him  of  with- 
drawing his  forces  that  molested  some  of  the  allies  of  that 
state;  he  draws  a  line  about  hitn  with  the  end  of  his  rod, 
and  requires  him  now,  out  of  hand,  before  he  stirred  out 
of  that  circle,  to  make  his  choice,  whether  he  would  be  a 
friend  or  enemy  to  the  people  of  Rome.  So  are  sinners  to 
understand  the  state  of  their  own  case.  The  God  of  thy 
life,  sinner,  in  whose  hands  thy  times  are,  doth  with  much 
higher  right  limit  thee  to  the  present  time,  and  expects 
thy  present  answer  to  his  just  and  merciful  offers  and  de- 
mands. He  circumscribes  thy  day  of  grace  ;  it  is  enclosed 
on  both  parts,  and  hath  an  evening  as  well  as  morning  ;  as 
it  had  a  foregoing,  so  hath  it  a  subsequent  night,  and  the 
latter,  if  not  more  dark,  yet  usually  much  more  stormy 
than  the  former  I  For  God  shuts  up  "this  day  in  much  dis- 
pleas-ure,  which  hath  terrible  effects.  If  it  be  not  expressly 
told  you  what  the  condition  of  that  night  is  that  follows 
your  Gospel  day;  if  the  watchman  being  asked,  "What  of 
the  night  ?"  do  only  answer  it  cometh  as  well  as  the  morn- 

q  Is  a.  Iv, 


ing  came;  black  events  are  signified  by  that  more  awful 
silence.  Or  'tis  all  one  if  you  call  it  a  day ;  there  is  enough 
to  distinguish  it  from  the  day  of  grace.  The  Scriptures 
call  such  a  calamitous  season  indiflerently  either  by  the 
name  of  night  or  day ;  but  the  latter  name  is  used  with 
some  or  other  adjunct,  to  signify  day  is  not  meant  in  the 
pleasant  or  more  grateful  sense  :  a  day  of  wrath,  an  evil 
day,  a  day  of  gloominess  and  thick  darkness,  not  differing 
from  the  most  dismal  night ;  and  to  be  told  the  morning  of 
such  a  day  is  coming,  is  all  one,  as  that  the  evening  is 
coming  of  a  bright  and  a  serene  day. 

And  here,  perhaps,  reader,  thou  will  expect  to  be  told 
what  are  the  limits  of  this  day  of  grace.  It  is  indeed  much 
more  difficult  punctually  to  assign  those  limits,  than  to  as- 
certain thee  there  are  such  ;  but  it  is  also  less  necessary. 
The  wise  and  merciful  God  doth  in  matters  of  this  nature 
little  mind  to  gratify  our  curiosity ;  much  less  is  it  to  be 
expected  from  him,  that  he  should  make  known  to  us 
such  things,  whereof  it  were  better  we  were  ignorant,  or 
the  knowledge  whereof  would  be  much  more  a  prejudice 
to  us  than  an  advantage.  And  it  were  as  bold  and  rash 
an  undertaking,  in  this  case,  as  it  would  be  vain  and  insig- 
nificant, for  any  man  to  take  on  him  to  say,  in  it,  what 
God  hath  not  said,  or  given  him  plain  ground  for.  What 
I  conceive  to  be  plain  and  useful  in  this  matter  I  shall  lay 
down  in  the  following  propositions,  insisting  more  largely 
where  the  matter  requires  it,  and  contenting  myself  but  to 
mention  what  is  obvious,  and  clear  at  the  first  sight. 

1.  That  there  is  a  great  difference  between  the  ends  and 
limits  of  the  day  or  season  of  grace  as  to  particular  per- 
sons, and  in  reference  to  the  collective  body  of  a  people, 
inhabiting  this  or  that  place.  It  may  be  over  with  such  or 
such  a  place,  so  as  that  they  that  dwell  there  shall  no  lon- 
ger have  the  Gospel  among  them,  when  as  yet  it  may  not 
be  over  with  every  particular  person  belonging  to  it,  who 
may  be  providentially  cast  elsewhere,  or  may  have  the 
"  ingrafted  word"  in  them,  which  they  lose  not.  And 
again,  it  may  be  over  with  some  particular  persons  in  such 
a  place,  when  it  is  not  yet  over  with  that  people  or  place, 
generaliy  considered. 

2.  As  to  both  there  is  a  difference  between  the  ending 
of  such  a  day,  and  intermissions,  or  dark  intervals,  (hat 
may  be  in  it.  The  Gospel  may  be  withdrawn  from  such 
a  people,  and  be  restored.  And  God  often,  no  doubt,  as  to 
particular  persons,  either  deprives  them  of  the  outward 
means  of  grace  for  a  time,  (by  sickness,  or  many  other 
ways,)  or  may  for  a  time  forbear  moving  upon  them  by 
his  Spirit,  and  again  try  them  with  both. 

3.  As  to  particular  persons,  there  may  be  much  differ- 
ence between  such  as,  while  they  lived  under  the  Gospel, 
gained  the  knowledge  of  the  principal  doctrines,  or  of  the 
sum  or  substance,  of  Christianity,  though  without  any 
sanctifying  effect  or  impression  upon  their  hearts,  and  such 
as,  through  their  ovm  negligence,  lived  under  it  in  total 
ignorance  hereof.  The  day  of  grace  may  not  be  over  with 
the  former,  though  they  should  never  live  under  the  min- 
istry of  the  Go.spel  more.  For  it  is  possible,  while  they 
have  the  seeds  and  principles  of  holy  truth  laid  up  in  their 
minds,  God  may  graciously  administer  to  them  many  oc- 
casions of  recollecting  and  considering  them,  wherewith 
he  may  so  please  to  co-operate,  as  to  enliven  them,  and 
make  them  vital  and  effectual  to  their  final  salvation. 
Whereas,  with  the  other  sort,  when  they  no  more  enjoy 
the  external  means,  the  day  of  grace  is  like  to  be  quite 
over,  so  as  that  there  may  be  no  more  hope  in  their  case 
than  in  that  of  pagans  in  the  darkest  parts  of  the  world  ; 
and  perhaps  much  less,  as  their  guilt  hath  been  much 
greater  by  their  neglect  of  so  great  and  important  things. 
It  may  be  better  with  Tyre  and  Sidon,  &c. 

4.  That  yet  it  is  a  terrible  judgment  to  the  most  know- 
ing, to  lose  the  external  dispensation  of  the  Gospel,  while 
they  have  yet  no  sanctifying  impression  upon  their  hearts 
by  it,  and  they  are  cast  upon  a  fearful  hazard  of  being  lost 
for  ever,  being  left  by  the  departed  Gospel  in  an  uncon- 
verted state.  For  they  need  the  most  urgent  inculcations 
of  Gospel  truths,  and  the  most  powerful  enforcing  means, 
to  engage  them  to  consider  the  things  which  they  know. 
It  is  the  design  of  the  Gospel  to  beget  not  only  light  in  the 
mind,   but  grace  in   the  heart.     And  if  that   were  not 

r  Isa.  xli.v.  2  Cor.  vi. 


WEPT  OVER  LOST  SOULS. 


443 


done  while  they  enjo3'eil  such  means,  it  is  less  likely  to  be 
done  without  them.  And  if  any  slighter  and  more  super- 
ficial impressions  were  made  upon  them  thereby,  short  of 
true  and  thoruugli  conversion,  how  great  is  the  danger 
that  all  will  vanish,  when  they  cease  to  be  pressed  and 
urged,  and  called  upon  by  the  public  voice  of  the  gospel- 
ministry  any  more.  How  naturally  desident  is  the  spirit 
of  man,  and  apt  to  sink  into  deadness,  worldliness,  and 
carnality,  even  under  the  most  lively  and  quickening 
means;  and  even  where  a  saving  work  hath  been  wrought ! 
how  much  more  when  those  means  fail,  and  there  is  no 
vital  principle  within,  capable  of  self-excitation  and  im- 
provement !  O  that  they  would  consider  this,  who  have 
got  nothing  by  the  Gospel  all  this  while,  but  a  little  cold, 
spiritless,  notional  knowledge,  and  are  in  a  possibility  of 
losing  it  before  they  get  any  thing  more  ! 

5.  That  as  it  is  certain  death  ends  the  day  of  grace  with 
every  unconverted  person,  so  it  is  very  possible  it  may  end 
with  divers  before  they  die  ;  by  their  total  loss  of  all  ex- 
ternal means,  or  by  the  departure  of  the  blessed  Spirit  of 
God  from  them,  so  as  to  return  and  visit  them  no  more. 
How  the  day  of  grace  may  end  with  a  person,  is  to  be  un- 
derstood by  considering  what  it  is  that  makes  up  and  con- 
stitutes such  a  day.  There  must  be  some  measure  and 
proportion  of  time  to  make  up  this  (or  any)  day,  which  is 
as  the  substratum  and  ground  forelaid.  Then  there  must 
be  light  superadded,  otherwise  it  differs  not  from  night, 
which  may  have  the  same  measure  of  mere  time.  The 
gospel-revelation  some  way  or  other  must  be  had,  as  being 
the  light  of  such  a  day.  And  again  there  must  be  some  de- 
gree of  liveliness,  and  vital  influence,  the  more  usual  con- 
comitant of  light ;  the  night  doth  more  dispose  men  to 
drowsiness.  The  same  sun  that  enlightens  the  world,  dis- 
seminates also  an  invigorating  influence.  If  the  Spirit  of  the 
living  God  do  no  way  animate  the  gospel-revelation,  and 
breathe  in  it,  we  have  no  day  of  grace.  It  is  not  only  a  day 
of  light,  but  a  day  of  power,  wherein  souls  can  be  wrought 
upon,  and  a  people  made  willing  to  become  the  Lord's, 
Psal.  ex.  As  the  Redeemer  revealed  in  the  Gospel,  is  the 
light  of  the  world,  so  he  is  life  to  it  too,  though  neither  are 
planted  or  do  take  root  every  where.  In  him  was  life,  and 
that  life  was  the  light  of  men.  That  light  that  rays  from 
him  is  vital  light  in  itself,  and  in  its  tendency  and  design, 
though  it  be  disliked  and  not  entertained  by  the  most. 

WJhereas  therefore  these  things  must  concur  to  makeup 
such  a  day :  if  either  a  man's  time,  his  life  on  earth,  expire, 
or  if  light  quite  fail  him,  or  if  all  gracious  influence  be 
withheld,  so  as  to  be  communicated  no  more  ;  his  day  is 
done,  the  season  of  grace  is  over  with  him.  Now  it  is 
plain,  that  many  a  one  may  lose  the  Gospel  before  his  life 
end;  and  possible  that  all  gracious  influence  may  be  re- 
strained, while  as  yet  the  external  dispensation  of  the  Gos- 
pel remains.  A  sinner  may  have  hardened  his  heart  to 
that  degree,  that  God  will  attempt  him  no  more,  in  any 
kind,  with  any  design  of  kindness  to  him,  not  in  that  more 
inward,  immediate  way  at  all,  i.  e.  by  the  motions  of  his 
Spirit,  which  peculiarly  can  import  nothing  but  friendly 
inclination,  as  whereby  men  are  personally  applied  unto, 
so  that  cannot  be  meant ;  nor  by  the  voice  of  the  Gospel, 
which  may  either  be  continued  for  the  sake  of  others,  or 
they  continued  under  it,  but  for  their  heavier  doom  at 
length.  Which  though  it  may  seem  severe,  is  not  to  be 
thought  strange,  much  less  unrighteous. 

It  is  not  to  be  thought  strange  to  them  that  read  the 
Bible,  which  so  often  speaks  this  sense :  as  when  it  warns 
and  threatens  men  with  so  much  terror,  as  Heb.  x.  26 — 
29.  For  if  we  sin  wilfully  after  that  we  have  received  the 
knowledge  of  the  truth,  there  remaineth  no  more  sacrifice 
for  sins,  but  a  fearful  looking  for  of  judgment,  and  fiery 
indignation,  which  shall  devour  the  adversaries.  He  that 
despised  Moses'  law,  died  without  mercy,  under  two  or 
three  witnesses:  of  how  much  sorer  punishment,  suppose 
ye,  shall  he  be  thought  worthy,  who  hath  trodden  under 
foot  the  Son  of  God,  and  hath  counted  the  blood  of  the 
covenant,  wherewith  he  was  sanctified,  an  unholy  thing, 
and  hath  done  despite  unto  the  Spirit  of  grace  ?  And  when 
it  tells  us,  after  many  overtures  madelo  men  in  vain,  of 
his  h.Tving  given  them  up,  &c.  Psal.  Ixxxi.  11,  12.  But 
my  prople  would  not  hearken  to  my  voice ;  and  Israel 
would  none  of  me;  so  I  gave  Lheni  up  unto  ibeir  own 


hearts'  lust ;  and  they  walked  in  their  own  counsels  :  and 
pronounces,  Let  him  that  is  unjust  be  unjust  still,  and  let 
him  which  is  filthy,  be  filthy  still,  Rev.  xxii.  11.  and  says, 
In  thy  filthine.ss  is  lewdne.ss,  because  I  have  purged  thee 
and  thou  wast  not  purged  ;  thou  shalt  not  be  purged  from 
thy  filthiness  any  more,  till  I  have  caused  my  fury  to  rest 
upon  thee,  Ezek.  xxiv.  13.  Which  pas.sages  seem  to  im- 
ply a  total  desertion  of  them,  and  retraction  of  all  gracious 
influence.  And  when  it  speaks  of  letting  them  be  under 
the  Gospel,  and  the  ordinary  means  of  salvation,  for  the 
most  direful  purposes:  as  that.  This  child  (Je-sus)  was  set 
for  the  fall,  as  well  as  for  the  rising,  of  many  in  Israel, 
Luke  ii.  34.  As  to  which  text  the  very  learned  Grotius 
glossing  upon  the  words  Ktirat  and  ti'j  rrrtjatv,  says,  Acccdo 
lis  qui  non  necdum  eventum,  sed  et  consilium,  that  he  is  of 
their  opinion  who  think  not  tJiat  the  naked  event,  but  the 
counsel  or  purpose  of  God,  is  signified  by  it,  the  same  with 
Ttdcrai ;  and  alleges  several  texts  where  the  active  of  that 
verb  must  have  the  same  sense,  as  to  appoint  or  ordain  ; 
and  mentions  divers  others  places  of  the  same  import  with 
this  so  understood;  and  which  therefore  to  recite  will 
equally  serve  our  present  purpose;  as  that,  Rom.  ix.  33. 
Behold,  I  lay  in  Zion  a  stumbling  stone,  and  rock  of  of- 
fence. And  1  Pet.  ii.  8.  The  stone  which  the  builders  re- 
fused, is  made  a  stone  of  stumbling,  and  a  rock  of  of- 
fence, even  to  them  which  stumble  at  the  word,  being  dis- 
obedient, whereunto  also  they  were  appointed.  With  that 
of  our  Saviour  himself,  John  ix.  39.  For  judgment  I  am 
come  into  this  world,  that  they  which  see  not  might  see  ; 
and  that  they  which  see,  might  be  made  blind.  And  most 
agreeable  to  those  former  places  is  that  of  the  prophet, 
Isaiah  xxviii.  13.  But  the  word  of  the  Lord  was  unto  them 
precept  upon  precept,  precept  upon  precept,  line  upon  line, 
line  upon  line,  here  a  little  and  there  u  little;  that  they 
might  go,  and  fall  backward,  and  be  broken,  and  .snared, 
and  taken.  And  we  may  add,  that  our  Lord  hath  put  us 
out  of  doubt  that  there  is  such  a  sin  as  that  which  is  emi- 
nentl}'-  called  the  sin  against  the  Holy  Ghost ;  that  a  man 
may,  in  such  circumstances,  and  to  such  a  degree,  sin 
against  that  blessed  Spirit,  that  he  will  never  move  or 
breathe  upon  them  more,  but  leave  them  to  a  hopeless 
ruin;  though  I  shall  not  in  this  discourse  determine  or 
discuss  the  nature  of  it.  But  I  doubt  not  it  is  somewhat 
else,  than  final  impenitency,  and  infidelit}' ;  and  that  every 
one  that  dies,  not  having  sincerely  repented  and  believed, 
is  not  guilty  of  it,  though  every  one  that  is  guilty  of  it, 
dies  impenitent  and  unbelieving,  but  was  guilty  of  it  be- 
fore; so  as  it  is  not  the  mere  want  of  time,  that  makes  him 
guilty.  Whereupon  therefore,  that  such  may  outlive  their 
day  of  grace,  is  out  of  question. 

i3ut  let  not  such,  as,  upon  the  descriptions  the  Gospel 
gives  us  of  that  sin,  may  be  justly  confident  tliey  have  not 
perhaps  committed  it,  therefore  think  themselves  out  of 
danger  of  losing  their  season  of  making  their  peace  with 
God  before  they  die.  Many  a  one  may,  no  doubt,  that 
never  committed  the  unpardonable  blasphemy  against  the 
Holy  Ghost,  as  he  is  the  witness,  by  his  wonderful  works, 
of  Christ  being  the  Messiah.  As  one  may  die,  by  neg- 
lecting himself,  that  doth  not  poison  himself,  or  cut  his 
own  throat.  You  will  say,  "  But  if  the  Spirit  retire  from 
men,  so  as  never  to  return,  where  is  the  difference  1"  I  an- 
swer, ihe  difference  lies  in  the  specific  nature  and  greater 
heinousness  of  that  sin,  and  consequently,  in  the  deeper 
degrees  of  its  pmiishment.  For  though  the  reason  of  its 
unpardonableness  lies  not  principally  in  its  greater  hein- 
ousness, but  in  its  <lirect  repugnancy  to  the  way  of  obtain- 
ing pardon,  yet  there  is  no  doubt  of  its  being  much  more 
heinous  thaii  many  other  sins,  for  which  men  perish.  And 
therefore  'tis  in  proportion  more  severely  punished.  But 
is  it  not  misery  enough  to  dwell  in  darkness  and  wo  for 
ever,  as  every  one  that  dies  unreconciled  to  God  must  do, 
unless  the  most  intense  flames  and  horror  of  hell  be  your 
portion  7  As  his  case  is  sufliciently  bad  that  must  die  a.s 
an  ordinary  felon,  though  he  is  no"t  to  be  hanged,  drawTi, 
and  quartered. 

Nor  is  there  any  place  or  pretence  for  so  profane  a 
thought,  as  if  there  were  any  colour  of  unrighteousness  in 
this  course  of  procedure  with  such  men.  Is  it  unjust  se- 
verity to  let  the  Gospel  become  deadly  to  them,  whof< 
maJignitv  perverts  it,  against  its  nature,  and  gei-Mue  icn- 


444 


THE  REDEEMER'S  TEARS 


denc)'-,  into  a  savour  of  death,  (as  2  Cor.  ii.  16.)  which  it 
is  Tois  arroWvftevoii,  i.  e.  to  them  (as  the  mentioned  author 
speaks)  who  may  be  truly  said  to  seek  their  own  destruc- 
tion 1  or  that  God  should  intend  their  more  aggravated 
condemnation,  even  from  the  despised  Gospel  itself,  who, 
when  such  light  is  come  into  the  world,  hate  it,  show  them- 
selves lucifugce,  tencbriotics,  (as  he  also  phrases  it,  speaking 
further  upon  that  first  mentioned  text,)  such  as  fly  from  the 
light,  choose  and.  love  to  lurk  in  darkness  1  He  must  have 
very  low  thoughts  of  divine  favour  and  acceptance,  of 
Christ,  and  grace,  and  glory,  that  can  have  hard  thoughts 
of  God,  for  his  vindicating,  with  greatest  severity,  the  con- 
tempt of  such  things.  What  could  better  become  his  glo- 
rious majesty,  and  excellent  greatness,  than,  as  all  things 
work  together  for  good  towards  them  that  love  him,  so  t© 
let  all  things  work  for  the  hurt  of  them  that  so  irreconcile- 
ably  hate  him,  and  bear  a  disaffected  and  implacable  mind 
towards  him  1  Nor  doth  the  addition  of  his  designing  the 
matter  so,  make  it  hard.  For  if  it  be  just  to  punish  such 
wickedness,  is  it  unjust  to  intend  to  punish  iti  and  to  in- 
tend to  punish  it  according  to  its  desert,  when  it  cannot  be 
thought  unjust  actually  to  render  to  men  what  they  deserve  % 

We  are,  indeed,  to  account  the  primary  intention  of 
continuing  the  Gospel  to  such  a  people,  among  whom 
these  live,  is  kindness  towards  others,  not  this  higher  re- 
venge upon  them ;  3'et  nothing  hinders  but  that  this  re- 
venge upon  them,  may  also  be  the  fit  matter  of  his  second- 
ary intention.  For  should  he  intend  nothing  concerning 
them  "?  Is  he  to  be  so  unconcerned  about  his  own  creatures, 
that  are  under  his  government  1  While  things  cannot  fall 
out  to  him  unawares,  but  that  he  hath  this  dismal  event  in 
prospect  before  him,  he  must  at  least  intend  to  let  it  be,  or 
not  to  hinder  it.  And  who  can  expect  he  should  ?  For, 
that  his  gracious  influence  towards  them  .should  at  length 
-cease,  is  above  all  exception :  that  it  ceasing,  while  they 
live  still  under  the  Gospel,  they  contract  deeper  guilt,  and 
incur  heavier  punishment,  follows  of  course.  And  who 
can  say  he  should  not  intend  to  let  it  follow  7  For  should 
he  take  away  the  Gospel  from  the  rest,  that  these  might  be 
less  punished  1  that  others  might  not  be  saved,  because 
they  will  not  1 

Nor  can  he  be  obliged  to  interpose  extraordinarily,  and 
alter  for  their  sakes  the  course  of  nature  and  providence, 
so  as  either  to  hasten  them  the  sooner  out  of  the  world,  or 
cast  them  into  any  other  part  of  it,  where  the  Gospel  is 
not,  lest  they  should,  by  living  still  under  it,  be  obnoxious 
to  the  severer  punishment.  For  whither  would  this  lead  1 
He  should,  by  equal  reason,  have  been  obliged  to  prev^ent 
men's  sinning  at  all,  that  they  might  not  be  liable  to  any 
punishment.  And  so  not  to  liaA'e  made  the  woild,  or  have 
otherwise  framed  the  methods  of  his  government,  and  less 
suitably  to  a  whole  community  of  reasonable  creatures  ; 
or  to  have  made  an  end  of  the  world  long  ago,  and  have 
quitted  all  his  great  designs  in  it,  lest  some  should  sin  on, 
and  incur  proportionable  punishment !  or  to  have  provided 
extraordinarily  that  all  should  do  and  fare  alike  ;  and  that 
it  might  never  have  come  to  pass,  that  it  should  be  less 
toleralile  for  Capernaum,  and  Chorazin,  and  Bethsaida, 
than  for  Tyre,  and  Sidon,  and  Sodom,  and  Gomorrah.  But 
is  there  unrighteou.sness  with  God  1  or  is  he  unrighteous 
in  taking  vengeance  ?  or  is  he  therefore  unjust,  because 
he  will  render  to  every  one  according  to  his  works;  to 
them  who,  by  patient  continuance  in  well  doing,  seek  glory, 
honour,  and  immortality,  eternal  life;  but  unto  them  that 
are  contentious,  and  do  not  obey  the  truth,  but  obey  un- 
righteousness, indignation  and  wrath,  tribulation  and 
anguish  upon  every  soul  of  man  that  doth  evil,  of  the  Jew 
first,  and  also  of  the  gentile  %  Rom.  ii.  6 — 9.  Doth  right- 
eousness itself  make  him  unrighteous'?  O  sinner,  under- 
stand how  much  better  it  is  to  avoid  the  stroke  of  Divine 
justice,  than  accuse  it!  God  will  be  found  true,  and  every 
man  a  liar,  that  he  may  be  justified  when  he  speaks,  and 
be  clear  when  he  judges,  Psal.  Ii.  4. 

6.  Yet  are  we  not  to  imagine  any  certain  fixed  rule,  ac- 
cording whereto  (except  in  the  case  of  the  unpardonable 
sin)  the  divine  dispensation  is  measured  in  cases  of  this 
nature  :  viz.  That,  w^hen  a  sinner  hath  contended  just  so 
long,  or  to  such  a  degree,  against  his  grace  and  Spirit  in 
his  Gospel,  he  shall  be  finally  rejected  ;  or  if  but  so  long, 
or  not  to  such  a  degree,  he  is  yet  certainly  to  be  further 


tried,  or  treated  with.  It  is  little  to  be  doubted,  but  he 
puts  forth  the  power  of  victorious  grace,  at  length,  upon 
some  more  obstinate  and  obdurate  sinners,  and  tl  at  have 
longer  persisted  in  their  rebellions,  (not  having,  sinned 
the  unpardonable  sin,)  and  gives  over  some  sooner,  as  it 
seems  good  unto  him.  Nor  doth  he  herein  owe  an  account 
to  any  man  of  his  matters.  Here  sovereign  good  pleasure 
rules  and  arbitrates,  that  is  tied  to  no  certain  rule.  Nei- 
ther, in  these  variations,  is  there  any  show  of  that  blameable 
npocra)Tro\rjipia  or  accepting  of  persons,  which,  in  his  own 
word,  he  so  expressly  disclaims.  We  must  distinguish 
matters  of  right,  (even  such  as  are  so  by  promise  only,  as 
well  as  others,)  and  matters  of  mere  unpromised  favour. 
In  matters  of  right,  to  be  an  accepter  of  persons,  is  a  thing 
most  highly  culpable  with  men,  and  which  can  have  no 
place  with  the  holy  God  :  i.  e.  when  a  human  judge  hath 
his  rule  before  him,  according  whereto  he  is  to  estimate 
men's  rights,  in  judgment ;  there,  to  regard  the  person  of 
the  rich,  or  of  the  poor,  to  the  prejudice  of  the  justice  of 
the  cause,  were  an  insufferable  iniquity  ;  as  it  were  also  in 
a  private  person  to  withhold  another's  right,  because  he 
hath  no  kindness  for  him.  So  even  the  great  God  himself, 
though  of  mere  grace  he  first  fixed  and  established  the 
rule,  (fitly  therefore  called  the  covenant,  or  law  of  grace,) 
by  which  he  will  proceed  in  pardoning  and  justifying  men, 
or  in  condemning  and  holding  them  guilty,  both  here,  and 
in  the  final  judgment ;  yet  having  fixed  it,  he  will  never 
recede  from  it ;  so  as  either  to  acquit  an  impenitent  unbe- 
liever, or  condemn  a  believing  penitent.  If  we  confess  our 
sins,  he  is  faithful  and  just  to  forgive.  None  shall  be  ever 
able  to  accuse  him  of  breach  of  faith,  or  of  transgressing 
his  own  rules  of  justice.  We  find  it  therefore  said  in  re- 
ference to  the  judgment  of  the  last  day,  when  God  shall 
render  to  every  man  according  to  his  works,  whether  they 
be  Jews  or  gentiles,  that  there  is  no  respect  of  persons  with 
God,  Rom.  ii.  6 — II.  yet  {q%d  promisit  pmnitenti,  veniam, 
no7i  promisit peccanli  pcenitentiarti)  whereas  he  hath,  by  his 
evangelical  law,  ascertained  pardon  to  one  that  sincerely 
obeys  it,  but  hath  not  promised  grace  to  enable  them  to  do 
so,  to  them  that  have  long  continued  wilfully  disobedient 
and  rebellious;  this  communication  of  grace  is,  therefore, 
left  arbitrary,  and  to  be  dispensed,  as  the  matter  of  free 
and  unassured  favour,  as  it  seems  him  good.  And  indeed, 
if  in  matters  of  arbitrary  favour,  respect  of  persons  ought 
to  have  no  place,  friendship  were  quite  excluded  the  world, 
and  would  be  swallowed  up  of  strict  and  rigid  justice.  I 
ought  to  take  all  men  for  my  friends  alike,  otherwise  than 
as  justice  should  oblige  me  to  be  more  respectful  to  men 
of  more  merit. 

7.  Wherefore  no  man  can  certainly  know,  or  ought  to 
conclude,  concerning  himself  or  others,  as  long  as  they 
live,  that  the  season  of  grace  is  quite  over  with  them.  As 
we  can  conceive  no  rule  God  hath  set  to  himself  to  pro- 
ceed by,  in  ordinary  cases  of  this  nature  ;  so  nor  is  there 
any  he  hath  set  unto  us  to  judge  by,  in  this  case.  It  were 
to  no  purpose,  and  could  be  of  no  use  to  men,  to  know  so 
much ;  therefore  it  were  unreasonable  to  expect  God 
.should  have  settled  and  declared  any  rule,  by  which  they 
might  come  by  the  knowledge  of  it.  As  the  case  is  then, 
viz.  there  being  no  such  rule,  no  such  thing  can  be  con- 
cluded ;  for  who  can  tell  what  an  arbitrary,  sovereign,  free 
agent  w^ill  do,  if  he  declare  not  his  own  purpose  himself  1 
How  should  it  be  known,  when  the  Spirit  of  God  hath 
been  often  working  upon  the  soul  of  a  man,  that  this  or 
that  shall  be  the  last  act,  and  that  he  will  never  put  forth 
another  1  And  why  should  God  make  it  known  1  To  the 
person  himself  whose  case  it  is,  'tis  manifest  it  could  be 
no  benefit.  Nor  is  it  to  be  thought  the  holy  God  will 
ever  so  alter  the  course  of  his  own  proceedings,  but  that 
it  shall  finally  be  seen  to  all  the  world,  that  every  man's 
destruction  was,  entirely,  and  to  the  last,  of  himself.  If 
God  had  made  it  evident  to  a  man,  that  he  were  finally 
rejected,  he  were  obliged  to  believe  it.  But  shall  it  ever 
be  said,  God  hath  made  any  thing  a  man's  duty,  which 
were  inconsistent  with  his  felicity.  The  having  sinned 
himself  into  such  a  condition  wherein  he  is  forsaken  of 
God,  is  indeed  inconsistent  with  it.  And  so  the  case  is 
to  stand,  i.  c.  that  his  perdition  be  in  immediate  connexion 
with  his  sin,  not  with  his  duty.  As  it  would  be  in  imme- 
diate, necessary  connexion  with  his  duty,  if  he  were  bound 


WEFT  OVER  LOST  SOULS. 


445 


to  believe  himself  finally  forsaken,  and  a  lost  creature. 
For  that  lielief  makes  him  hopeles.s,  and  a  very  devil,  ju.s- 
tifies  his  unbelief  of  the  Gospel,  towards  himself,  by  re- 
moving and  shutting  up,  towards  him,  the  object  of  su(.li  a 
faith,  and  consequently  brings  the  matter  to  this  state,  that 
he  perishes,  ^  not  because  he  doih  not  believe  God  recon- 
cileable  to  man,  but  because,  with  particular  application  to 
himself,  he  ought  not  so  to  believe. 

And  it  were  most  unfit,  and  of  very  pernicious  conse- 
quence, that  such  a  thing  should  be  generally  known  con- 
cerning others.  It  were  to  anticipate  the  final  judgment, 
to  create  a  hell  upon  earth,  to  tempt  them  whose  doom 
were  already  known,  to  do  all  the  mischief  in  the  world, 
which  malice  and  despair  can  suggest,  and  prompt  them 
unto;  it  were  to  mingle  devils  with  men!  and  fill  the 
world  with  confusion  !  How  should  parents  know  how  to 
behave  themselves  towards  children,  a  husband  towards 
the  wife  of  his  bosom  in  such  a  case,  if  it  were  known 
they  were  no  more  to  counsel,  exhort,  admonish  them, 
pray  with  or  for  them,  than  if  they  were  devils  ! 

And  if  there  were  such  a  rule,  how  frequent  misappli- 
cations would  the  fallible  and  distempered  minds  of  men 
make  of  it!  so  that  they  would  be  apt  to  fancy  themselves 
warranted  to  judge  severely,  or  uncharitably,  and  (as  the 
truth  of  the  case  perhaps  is^  unjustly  concerning  others, 
from  which  they  are  so  hardly  withheld,  when  they  have 
no  such  pretence  to  embolden  them  to  it,  but  are  so  strictly 
forbidden  it ;  and  the  judgment-seat  so  fenced,  as  it  is,  by 
the  most  awful  interdicts,  against  their  usurpations  and 
encroachments.  We  are  therefore  to  reverence  the  wis- 
dom of  the  Divine  government,  that  things  of  this  nature 
are  among  the  arcana  of  it ;  some  of  those  secrets  which 
belong  not  to  us.  He  hath  revealed  what  was  fit  and  ne- 
cessary for  us  and  our  children,  and  envies  to  man  no  use- 
fill  knowledge. 

But  it  may  be  said,  when  the  apostle  (1  John  v.  16.) 
directs  to  pray  for  a  brother  whom  we  see  sinning  a  sin 
that  is  not  unto  death,  and  adds,  there  is  a  sin  unto  death, 
I  do  not  say  he  shall  pray  for  it ;  is  it  not  implied  that  it 
may  be  known  when  one  sins  that  sin  unto  death,  not  only 
to  himself,  but  even  to  others  too  1  I  answer  it  is  implied 
there  may  be  too  probable  appearances  of  it,  and  much 
ground  to  suspect  and  fear  it  concerning  some,  in  some 
cases;  as  when  any  against  the  highest  evidence  of  the 
truth  of  the  Christian  religion,  and  that  Jesus  is  the  Christ, 
or  the  Messiah,  (the  proper  and  most  sufficiently  credible 
testimony  whereof,  he  ha  I  mentioned  in  the  foregoing 
verses,  under  heads  to  which  the  whole  evidence  of  the 
truth  of  Christianity  may  be  fitly  enough  reduced,)  do  not- 
withstanding, from  that  malice,  which  blinds  their  under- 
standing, persist  in  infidelity,  or  apostatize  and  relapse  into 
it  from  a  former  profession,  there  is  great  cause  of  suspi- 
cion, lest  such  have  sinned  that  sin  unto  death.  Where- 
upon yet  it  is  to  be  observed,  he  doth  not  expressly  forbid 
f)raying  for  the  persons  whose  case  we  may  doubt ;  only 
le  doth  not  enjoin  it,  as  he  doth  for  others,  but  only  says, 
I  do  net  say  ye  shall  pray  for  it,  i.  e.  that  in  his  present  di- 
rection to  pray  for  others,  he  did  not  intend  such,  but  an- 
other sort,  for  whom  they  might  pray  remotely  from  any 
such  suspicion  :  riz.  that  he  meant  no7V  such  praying  as 
ought  to  be  interchanged  between  Christian  friends,  that 
have  reason,  in  the  main,  to  be  well  persuaded  concerning 
one  another.  In  the  mean  time  intending  no  opposition 
to  what  is  elsewhere  enjoined,  the  praying  for  all  men, 
(1  Tim.  ii.  1.)  without  the  personal  exclusion  of  any,  as 
also  our  Lord  himself  prayed  indefinitely  for  his  most  ma- 
licious enemies,  Father,  fargivethem,  they  know  not  what 
they  do;  though  he  had  formerly  said,  there  was  such  a 
sin  as  should  never  be  forgiven  ;  whereof  'tis  highly  pro- 
bable some  of  them  were  guilty:  yet  such  he  doth  not  ex- 
pressly except ;  but  his  prayer  being  in  the  indefinite,  not 
the  universal,  form,  'tis  to  be  supposed  it  must  mean  such 
aus  were  within  the  compass  and  reach  of  prayer,  and  ca- 
pable of  benefit  by  it.  Nor  doth  the  apostle  here  direct 
personally  to  exclude  any,  only  that  indefinitely  and  in  the 
general  such  must  be  supposed  not  meant  as  had  sinned 
the  sin  unto  death ;  or  must  be  conditionally  excluded  if 
they  had,  without  determining  who  had  or  had  not.  To 
which  purpose  it  is  very  observable,  that  a  more  abstract 
s  See  more  to  the  purpose  in  thu  Appendix 


form  of  expression  is  u.sed  in  this  latter  clause  of  this 
verse.  For  whereas  in  the  former  posilicc  part  of  the 
direction,  he  enjoins  praying  for  him  or  them  ihat  had  not 
sinned  unto  death  ;  (viz.  concerning  whom  there  was  no 
ground  for  any  such  imagination  or  suspicion  that  they 
had ;)  in  the  7icgalivc  part,  concerning  such  as  might  have 
sinned  it,  he  doth  not  .say  for  him  or  them,  but  lor  it,  {i.  e. 
concerning,  in  reference  to  it,)  a,s  if  he  had  said,  the  case 
in  general  only  is  to  be  excepted,  and  if  persons  aie  to  be 
distinguished  (since  every  sin  is  some  one's  sin,  the  sin  of 
some  person  or  other)  let  God  distinguish,  but  do  not  you, 
'tis  enough  for  you  to  except  the  sin,  commiued  by  whom- 
soever. And  though  the  former  part  of  the  verse  speaks 
of  a  particular  person,  "  If  a  man  see  his  brother  sin  a  sin 
that  is  not  unto  death,"  wliich  is  as  determinate  to  a  person 
as  the  sight  of  our  eye  can  be,  it  doth  not  follow  the  latter 
part  must  suppose  a  like  particular  determination  of  any 
person's  case,  that  he  hath  sinned  it.  I  may  have  great 
reason  to  be  confident  such  and  such  have  not,  when  I  can 
only  suspect  that  such  a  one  hath.  And  it  is  a  thing  much 
less  unlikely  to  be  certain  to  oneself  than  another,  for 
they  that  have  sinned  unto  death,  are  no  doubt  so  blinded 
and  .stupified  by  it,  that  they  are  not  more  apt  or  compe- 
tent to  observe  themselves,  and  consider  their  case,  than 
others  may  be. 

8.  But  though  none  ought  to  conclude  that  their  da}'  or 
season  of  grace  is  quite  expired,  yet  the}'  ought  deeply  to 
apprehend  the  danger,  lest  it  should  expire,  before  their 
necessary  work  be  done,  and  their  peace  made.  For  though 
it  can  be  of  no  use  to  them  to  know  the  former,  and  there- 
fore they  have  no  means  appointed  thera  by  which  to  know 
it,  'tis  of  great  use  to  apprehend  the  latter  ;  and  they  have 
suflicient  ground  for  the  apprehension.  All  the  cautions 
and  warnings  wherewiih  the  Holy  Spirit  abounds,  of  the 
kind  with  those  already  mentioned,  have  that  manifest  de- 
sign. And  nothing  can  be  more  important,  or  apposite  to 
this  purpose,  than  ^hat  solemn  charge  of  the  great  apostle, 
Phil.  ii.  12.  Work  out  your  own  salvation  with  fear  and 
trembling;  considered  together  with  the  subjoined  ground 
of  it,  ver.  13.  For  it  is  God  that  workeih  in  you  to  will 
and  to  do  of  his  own  good  pleasure.  How  correspondent 
is  the  one  with  the  other;  icork,  for  he  works:  there  were 
no  working  at  all  to  any  purpose,  or  with  any  hope,  if  he 
did  not  work.  And  work  with  fear  and  trembling,  for  he 
works  of  his  own  good  pleasure,  q.  d.  "  'Twerethe  greatest 
folly  imaginable  to  trifle  with  one  that  works  at  so  perfect 
liberty,  under  no  obligation,  that  may  desist  when  he  will ; 
to  impose  upon  so  absolutely  sovereign  and  arbitrary  an 
aj;;fpt,  that  owes  you  nothing ;  and  from  whose  former 
gracious  operations  not  complied  with,  you  can  draw  no 
argument  unto  any  following  ones,  that  because  he  doth, 
therefore  he  will.  As  there  is  no  certain  connexion  be- 
tween present  time  and  future,  but  all  time  is  made  up  of 
undepending,  not  strictly  coherent,  moments,  so  as  no  man 
can  be  sure,  because  one  now  exists,  another  shall ;  there 
is  also  no  more  certain  connexion  between  the  arbitrar}' 
acts  of  a  free  agent  within  such  time  ;  so  that  I  cannot  be 
sure,  because  he  now  darts  in  light  upon  me,  is  now  con- 
vincing me,  now  awakening  me,  therefore  he  will  still  do  so, 
again  and  again.  Upon  this  ground  then,  what  exhortation 
could  be  more  proper  than  this  7  "  Work  out  your  salvation 
with  fear  and  trembling."  What  could  be  more  awfully 
monitory,  and  enforcing  of  it.  than  that  he  works  only  of 
mere  good  will  ami  pleasiire  ?  How  should  I  tremble  to 
think,  if  I  should  be  negligent,  or  undutil'ul,  he  may  give  ■ 
out  the  next  moment,  nay  let  the  work  fall,  and  me  perish ! 
And  there  is  more  especial  cause  for  such  an  apprehen- 
sion, upon  the  concurrence  of  such  things  as  these  : 

1.  If  the  workings  of  God's  Spirit  upon  the  .soul  of  a 
man  have  been  more  than  ordinarily  strong  and  urgent,  and 
do  now  cease  :  if  there  have  been  more  powerful  convic- 
tions, deeper  humiliations,  more  awakened  fears,  more 
formed  purposes  of  a  new  life,  more  fervent  desires,  that 
are  now  all  vanished  and  fled,  and  the  sinner  is  returned 
to  his  old  dead  and  dull  temper. 

2.  If  there  be  no  disposition  to  reflect  and  consider  the 
difference,  no  sense  of  his  loss,  but  he  apprehends  such 
workings  of  spirit  in  him  unnecessar}-  troubles  to  him, 
and  thinks  it  well  he  is  delivered  and  eased  of  them. 


446 


THE  REDEEMER'S  TEARS 


3.  If  in  the  time  when  he  was  under  such  workings  of 
spirit,  he  had  made  known  his  case  to  his  minister,  or  any- 
godly  friend,  whose  company  he  now  shuns,  as  not  willing 
to  be  put  in  mind  or  hear  any  more  of  such  matters. 

4.  If  hereupon  he  hath  more  indulged  sensual  inclina- 
tion, taken  more  liberty,  gone  against  the  checks  of  his 
own  conscience,  broken  former  good  resolutions,  involved 
himself  in  the  guilt  of  any  grosser  sins. 

5.  If  conscience,  so  batfled,  be  now  silent ;  lets  him 
alone,  grows  more  sluggish  and  weaker  (which  it  must)  as 
his  lusts  grow  stronger. 

6.  If  the  same  lively  powerful  ministry,  which  before 
affected  him  much,  now  moves  him  not. 

7.  If  especially  he  is  grown  into  a  dislike  of  such  preach- 
ing ;  if  serious  godliness,  and  what  tends  to  it,  are  become 
distasteful  to  him ;  if  discourses  of  God,  and  Christ,  of 
death  and  judgment,  and  of  a  holy  life,  are  reckoned  super- 
fluous and  needless,  are  unsavoury  and  disrelished  ;  if  he 
have  learned  to  put  disgraceful  names  upon  things  of  this 
import,  and  the  persons  that  most  value  them,  and  live 
accordingly  ;  if  he  hath  taken  the  seat  of  the  scorner,  and 
makes  it  his  business  to  deride  what  he  had  once  a  rever- 
ence for,  or  took  some  complacency  in. 

8.  If,  upon  all  this,  God  withdraw  such  a  ministry,  so 
that  he  is  now  warned  and  admonished,  exhorted  and 
striven  with,  as  formerly,  no  more.  O  the  fearful  danger 
of  that  man's  case  !  Hath  he  no  cause  to  fear  lest  the 
things  of  his  peace  should  be  for  ever  hid  from  his  eyes  1 
Surely  he  hath  much  cause  of  fear,  but  not  of  despair. 
Fear  would  in  this  case  be  his  great  duty,  and  might  yet 
prove  the  means  of  saving  him;  despair  would  be  his  very 
heinous  and  destroying  sin.  If  yet  he  would  be  stirred  up 
to  consider  his  case,  whence  he  is  fallen,  and  whither  he  is 
falling,  and  set  himself  to  serious  seekings  of  God,  cast 
dowTi  himself  before  him,  abase  himself,  cry  for  mercy,  as 
for  his  life,  there  is  yet  hope  in  his  case.  God  may  make 
here  an  instance  what  he  can  obtain  of  himself  to  do  for  a 
perishing  wretch  !     But, 

IV.  If  with  any  that  have  lived  under  the  Gospel,  their 
day  is  quite  expired,  and  the  things  of  their  peace  now  for 
ever  hid  from  their  eyes,  this  is  in  itself  a  most  deplorable 
case,  and  much  lamented  by  our  Lord  Jesus  himself  That 
the  case  is  in  itself  most  deplorable,  who  sees  not  1  A  soul 
lost !  a  creature  capable  of  God  !  upon  its  way  to  him  ! 
near  to  the  kingdom  of  God  !  shipwrecked  in  the  port !  O 
sinner,  from  how  high  a  hope  art  thou  fallen  !  into  what 
depths  of  misery  and  wo  !  And  that  it  was  lamented  by 
our  Lord,  is  in  the  text.  He  beheld  the  city,  (very  gene- 
rally, we  have  reason  to  apprehend,  inhabited  by  such 
wretched  creatures,)  and  wept  over  it.  This  was  a  very 
affectionate  lamentation.  We  lament  often,  very  heartily, 
many  a  sad  case,  for  which  we  do  not  shed  tears.  But 
tears,  such  tears,  falling  from  such  eyes !  the  issues  of  the 
purest  and  best  governed  passion  that  ever  was,  showed 
the  true  greatness  of  the  cause.  Here  could  be  no  exor- 
bitancy or  unjust  excess,  nothing  more  than  was  propor- 
tionable to  the  occasion.  There  needs  no  other  proof  that 
this  is  a  sad  case,  than  that  our  Lord  lamented  it  with 
tears,  which  that  he  did,  we  are  plainly  told,  so  that  touch- 
ing that,  there  is  no  place  for  doubt.  All  that  is  liable  to 
question  is,  whether  we  are  to  conceive  in  him  any  like 
resentments  of  such  cases,  in  his  present  glorified  state  1 

Indeed  we  cannot  think  heaven  a  place  or  state  of  .sad- 
ness, or  lamentation ;  and  must  take  heed  of  conceiving 
•  any  thing  there,  especially  on  the  throne  of  glory,  unsuit- 
able to  the  most  perfect  nature,  and  the  most  glorious  state. 
We  are  not  to  imagine  tears  there,  which  in  that  happy 
region  are  wiped  away  from  inferior  eyes;  no  grief,  sor- 
row, or  sighing,  which  are  all  fled  away,  and  shall  be  no 
more  ;  as  there  can  be  no  other  turbid  passion  of  any  kind. 
But  when  expressions  that  import  anger,  or  griel^,  are  used, 
even  concerning  God  himself,  we  must  sever  in  our  con- 
ception every  thing  of  imperfection,  and  ascribe  every 
thing  of  real  perfection.  We  are  not  to  think  such  expres- 
sions signify  nothing,  that  they  have  no  meaning,  or  that 
nothing  at  all  is  to  be  attributed  to  him  under  them. 

Nor  are  we  again  to  think  they  signify  the  same  thing 
with  what  we  find  in  ourselves,  and  are  wont  to  express 
by  those  names.  In  the  Divine  nature,  there  may  be  real, 
and  yet  most  serene,  complacency  and  displacency,  viz. 


that  are  unaccompanied  with  the  least  commotion,  and  im- 
port nothing  of  imperfection,  but  perfection  rather,  as  it  is 
a  perfection  to  apprehend  th)ngs  suitably  to  what  in  them- 
selves they  are.  The  Holy  Scriptures  frequently  speak  of 
God  as  angry,  and  grieved  for  the  sins  of  men,  and  their 
miseries  which  ensue  therefrom.  And  a  real  aversion  and 
dislike  is  signified  thereby,  and  by  many  other  expressions, 
which  in  us  would  signify  vehement  agitations  of  affec- 
tion, that  we  are  sure  can  have  no  place  in  him.  We 
ought  therefore  in  our  own  thoughts  to  ascribe  to  him  that 
calm  aversion  of  will,  in  reference  to  the  sins  and  miseries 
of  men  in  general ;  and,  in  our  own  apprehensions,  to  re- 
move to  the  utmost  distance  from  him  all  such  agitations 
of  passion  or  affection,  even  though  some  expressions  that 
occur,  carry  a  great  appearance  thereof,  should  they  be 
understood  according  to  human  measures,  as  they  are  hu- 
man forms  of  speech.  As,  to  instance  in  what  is  said  by 
the  glorious  God  himself,  and  very  near  in  sense  to  what 
we  have  in  the  text,  what  can  be  more  pathetic,  than  that 
lamenting  wish,  Psal.  Ixxxi.  13.  O  that  my  people  had 
hearkened  unto  me,  and  Israel  had  walked  in  my  ways! 

But  we  must  take  heed  lest,  under  the  pretence  that  we 
cannot  ascribe  every  thing  to  God  that  such  expressions 
seem  to  import,  we  therefore  ascribe  nothing.  We  ascribe 
nothing,  if  we  do  not  ascribe  to  a  real  unwillingness  that 
men  should  sin  on,  and  perish  ;  and  consequently  a  real 
willingness  that  they  should  turn  to  him,  and  live  ■,  which 
so  many  plain  texts  assert.  And  therefore  it  is  unavoid- 
ably imposed  upon  us,  to  believe  that  God  is  truly  unwil- 
ling of  some  things,  which  he  doth  not  think  fit  to  inter- 
pose his  omnipotency  to  hinder,  and  is  truly  willing  of 
some  things,  which  he  doth  not  put  forth  his  omnipotency 
to  effect.  That  he  most  fitly  makes  this  the  ordinary  course 
of  his  dispensations  towards  men,  to  govern  them  by  laws, 
and  promises,  and  threatenings,  (made  most  express  to 
them  that  live  under  the  Gospel,)  to  work  upon  their  minds, 
their  hope,  and  their  fear ;  afibrding  them  the  ordinary 
assistances  of  supernatural  light  and  influence,  with  which 
he  requires  them  to  comply,  and  which,  upon  their  refus- 
ing to  do  so,  he  may  most  righteously  withhold,  and  give 
them  the  victory  to  their  own  ruin  ;  though  oftentimes  he 
doth,  from  a  sovereignty  of  grace,  put  forth  that  greater 
power  upon  others,  equally  negligent  and  obstinate,  not  to 
enforce,  but  effectually  to  incline,  their  wills,  and  gain  a 
victory  over  them,  to  their  salvation. 

Nor  is  his  will  towards  the  rest  altogether  ineffectual, 
though  it  have  not  this  effect.  For  whosoever  thou  art  that 
livest  under  the  Gospel,  though  thou  dost  not  know  that 
God  so  wills  thy  conversion  and  salvation,  as  to  effect  it, 
whatsoever  resistance  thou  now  makest ;  though  thou  art 
not  sure  he  will  finally  overcome  all  thy  resistance,  and 
pluck  thee  as  a  fireband  out  of  the  mouth  of  hell ;  yet 
thou  canst  not  say  his  good  will  towards  thee  hath  been 
without  any  effect  at  all  tending  thereto.  He  hath  often 
called  upon  thee  in  his  Gospel,  to  repent  and  turn  to  him 
through  Christ ;  he  hath  waited  on  thee  with  long  patience, 
and  given  thee  time  and  space  of  repentance ;  he  hath 
within  that  time  been  often  at  work  with  thy  .soul.  Hath 
he  not  many  times  let  in  beams  of  light  upon  thee  1  shown 
thee  the  evil  of  thy  ways  1  convinced  thee  1  awakened 
thee  1  half  persuaded  thee  1  and  thou  never  hadst  reason 
to  doubt,  but  that  if  thou  hadst  set  thyself  with  serious 
diligence  to  work  out  thy  own  salvation,  he  would  have 
wrought  on,  so  as  to  have  brought  things  to  a  blessed  issue 
for  thy  soul. 

Thou  migh  test  discern  his  mind  towards  thee  to  be  agree- 
able to  his  word,  wherein  he  hath  testified  to  thee  he  de- 
sired not  the  death  of  sinners,  that  he  hath  no  pleasure  in 
the  death  of  him  that  dieth,  or  in  the  death  of  the  wicked, 
but  that  he  should  turn  and  live  ;  exhorted  thee,  expostu- 
lated with  thee,  and  others  in  thy  condition,  Turn  ye,  turn 
ye,  why  will  ye  die  1  He  hath  told  thee  expressly  thy  stub- 
bornness, and  contending  against  him,  did  grieve  him,  and 
vex  his  Spirit ;  that  thy  sin,  wherein  thou  hast  indulged 
thyself,  hath  been  an  abomination  to  him,  that  it  was  the 
abominable  thing  which  his  soul  hated,  that  he  was  broken 
with  thewhorish  heart  of  such  as  thou,  and  pressed  there- 
with, as  a  cart  that  was  full  of  sheaves. 

Now  such  expressions  as  these,  though  thev  are  bor- 
rowed from  man,  and  must  be  understood  suitably  to  God. 


WEPT  OVER  LOST  SOULS. 


447 


though  they  do  not  sis^nify  the  thing  with  him  as  they  do 
in  us,  yet  they  do  not  signily  notinn;<.  As  when  hands 
and  ej'es  are  attributed  to  God,  they  do  not  signil'y  as  they 
do  with  us,  yet  they  signify  somewhat  correspondent,  as 
active  and  visive  power :  so  these  expressions,  though  they 
signify  not,  in  God,  such  unquiet  motions  and  passions, 
as  they  would  in  us,  they  do  signify  a  mind  and  will,  really, 
though  with  the  most  perfect  calmness  and  tranquillity,  set 
against  sin,  and  the  horrid  consequences  of  it,  which  yet, 
for  greater  reasons  than  we  can  understand,  he  may  not 
see  fit  to  do  all  he  can  to  prevent.  And  if  we  know  not 
how  to  reconcile  such  a  will  in  God,  with  some  of  our 
notions  concerning  the  Divine  nature  ;  shall  we,  for  what 
we  have  thought  of  him,  deny  what  he  hath  so  expressly 
said  of  himself,  or  pretend  to  understand  his  nature  better 
than  he  himself  doth  !<■ 

And  when  we  see  from  such  express  sayings  in  Scrip- 
ture, reduced  to  a  sense  becoming  God,  how  God's  mind 
stands  in  reference  to  sinners,  and  their  self-destroying 
ways,  we  may  thence  apprehend  what  temper  of  mind  our 
Lord  Jesus  aiso  bears  towards  them  in  the  like  case,  even 
in  his  glorified  state.  For  can  you  think  there  is  a  dis- 
agreement between  him  and  the  Father  about  these  things  ? 
And  whereas  we  find  oar  blessed  Lord,  in  the  days  of  his 
flesh,  one  while  complaining  men  would  not  come  to  him 
that  they  might  have  life,  (John  v.  40.)  elsewhere  grieved 
at  the  hardness  of  their  hearts,  (Mark  iii.  5.)  and  here  scat- 
tering tears  over  sinning  and  perishing  Jerusalem ;  we  can- 
not doubt  but  that  the  (innocent)  perturbation,  which  his 
earthly  state  did  admit,  being  severed,  his  mind  is  still  the 
same,  in  reference  to  cases  of  the  same  nature  ;  for  can  we 
think  there  is  any  disagreement  between  him  and  himself? 
We  cannot  therefore  doubt  but  that, 

1.  He  distinctly  comprehends  the  truth  of  any  such  case. 
He  beholds  from  the  throne  of  his  glory  above,  all  the 
treaties  which  are  held  and  managed  with  sinners  in  his 
name,  and  what  their  deportments  are  therein.  His  eyes 
are  as  a  flame  of  fire,  wherewith  he  searches  hearts,  and 
trieth  reins.  He  hath  seen  therefore,  sinner,  all  along, 
every  time  an  offer  of  grace  hath  been  made  to  thee,  and 
been  rejected  ;  when  thou  hast  slighted  counsels  and  warn- 
ings that  have  been  given  thee,  exhorrations  and  entreaties 
that  have  been  pressed  upon  thee,  for  many  years  together, 
and  how  thou  hast  hardened  thy  heart  against  reproofs  and 
threatenings,  against  promises  and  allurements;  and  be- 
holds the  tendency  of  all  this,  w^hat  is  like  to  come  of  it, 
and  that,  if  thou  persist,  it  will  be  bitterness  in  the  end. 

2.  That  he  hath  a  real  dislike  of  the  sinfulness  of  thy 
course.  It  is  not  indifferent  to  him  whether  thou  obeyest, 
or  disobeyest  the  Gospel ;  whether  thou  turn  and  repent  or 
no;  that  he  is  truly  displeased  at  thy  trifling,  .sloth,  negli- 
gence, impenitency,  hardness  of  heart,  stubborn  obstinacy, 
and  contempt  of  his  grace,  and  takes  real  offence  at  them. 

3.  He  hath  real  kind  propensions  towards  thee,  and  is 
ready  to  receive  thy  returning  soul,  and  effectually  to  me- 
diate with  the  offended  Majesty  of  heaven  for  thee,  as  long 
as  there  is  any  hope  in  thy  case. 

4.  When  he  sees  there  is  no  hope,  he  pities  thee,  while 
thou  seest  it  not,  and  dost  not  pity  thyself.  Pity  and  mer- 
cy above  are  not  names  only;  'tis  a  great  reality  that  is 
signified  by  them,  and  that  hath  place  there,  in  far  higher 
excellency  and  perfection,  than  it  can  with  us  poor  mortals 
here  below.  Ours  is  but  borrowed,  and  participated  from 
that  first_  fountain  and  original  above.  Thou  dost  not 
perish  unlamented,  even  with  the  purest  heavenly  pity, 
though  thou  hast  made  thy  case  incapable  of  remedy.  As 
the  well-tempered  judge  bewails  the  sad  end  of  the  male- 
factor, whom  justice  obliges  him  not  to  spare,  or  save. 

And  now  let  us  consider  what  use  is  to  be  made  of  all 
this.  And  though  nothing  can  be  useful  to  the  persons 
themselves,  whom  the  Redeemer  thus  laments  as  lost,  yet 
that  he  doth  so,  may  be  of  great  use  to  others. 

Use.  Which  will  partly  concern  those  who  do  justly  ap- 
prehend this  is  not  their  case;  and  partly  such  as  may  be 
in  great  fear  that  it  is. 

I.  For  such  as  have  reason  to  persuade  themselves  it  is 
not  their  case.  The  best  ground  upon  which  any  can  con- 
fidently conclude  this,  is  that  they  have  in  this  their  pre- 
sent day,  through  the  grace  of  God,  already  effectually 
t  See  the  Appendix. 


known  the  things  of  their  peace,  .such,  viz.  as  have  .sin- 
cerely, with  all  their  hearts  and  souls,  turned  to  God,  taken 
him  to  be  their  God,  and  devoted  themselves  to  him,  to  be 
his;  iiitrustmg  and  subjecting  them.selves  to  the  saving 
mercy  and  governing  power  of  the  Redeemer,  according  to 
the  tenor  of  the  gospel-covenant,  from  which  they  do  not 
find  their  hearts  to  swerve  or  decline,  but  resolve,  thnjugh 
Divine  assistance,  tQ  persevere  herein  all  their  days.  Now 
for  such  as  with  whom  things  are  already  brought  to  that 
comfortable  conclusion,  I  only  say  to  them, 

1.  Rejoice  and  bless  God  tlial  so  it  is.  Christ  your  Re- 
deemer rejoices  with  you,  and  over  you  ;  you  may  collect 
it  from  his  contrary  resentment  of  their  case  who  are  past 
hope;  if  he  weep  over  them,  he,  no  doubt,  rejoices  over 
you.  There  is  joy  in  heaven  concerning  you.  Angels 
rejoice,  your  glorious  Redeemer  presiding  in  the  joyful 
concert.  And  should  not  you  rejoice  for  yourselves  1  Con- 
sider what  a  discrimination  is  made  in  your  case!  To 
how  many  hath  that  Gospel  been  a  deadly  savour,  which 
hath  proved  a  savour  of  life  unto  life  to  you  !  How  many 
have  fallen  on  your  right  hand,  and  your  left,  stumbling 
at  the  stone  of  offence,  which  to  you  is  become  the  head- 
stone of  the  corner,  elect,  and  precious!  Whence  is  this 
difference  1  Did  you  never  slight  Christ  1  never  make 
light  of  offered  mercy  1  was  your  mind  never  blind  or 
vain  1  was  your  heart  never  hard  or  dead  7  were  the  terms 
of  peace  and  reconciliation  never  rejected  or  disregarded 
by  you  1  How  should  you  admire  victorious  grace,  that 
would  never  desist  from  striving  with  you  till  it  had  over- 
come!  You  aie  the  triumph  of  the  Redeemer's  conquer- 
ing love,  who  might  have  been  of  his  wrath  and  justice  ! 
Endeavour  your  spirits  may  taste,  more  and  more,  the 
sweetness  of  reconciliation,  that  you  may  more  abound  in 
joy  and  praises.  Is  it  not  pleasant  to  you  to  be  at  peace 
with  God?  to  find  that  all  controversies  are  taken  up  be- 
tween him  and  you  1  that  you  can  now  approach  him,  and 
his  terrors  not  make  }'ou  afraid  1  that  you  can  enter  into 
the  secret  of  his  presence,  and  solace  yourselves  in  his  as- 
sured favour  and  love  1  How  should  you  joy  in  God 
through  Jesus  Christ,  by  whom  you  have  received  the 
atonement !  What  have  you  now  to  fear  1  If,  when  you 
were  enemies,  you  were  reconciled  by  the  death  of  Christ, 
how  much  more,  being  reconciled,  shall  you  he  saved  by 
his  life  X  How  great  a  thing  have  you  to  oppose  to  all  world- 
ly troubles'?  If  God  be  for  3'ou,  who  can  he  against  you  1 
Think  how  mean  it  is  for  the  friends  of  God,  the  favourites 
of  hea\'en,  to  be  dismayed  at  the  appearances  of  danger 
that  threaten  them  from  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth  !  What 
if  all  the  world  were  in  a  posture  of  hostility  against  you, 
■when  the  mighty  Lord  of  all  is  your  friend  1  Take  heed  of 
thinking  meanly  of  his  power  and  love;  would  anyone 
diminish  to  Himself,  whom  he  takes  for  his  God  1  All 
people  will  walk  every  one  in  the  name  of  his  god  ;  why 
should  not  you  much  more  in  the  name  of  yours,  glorying 
in  him,  and  making  your  boast  of  him  all  the  day  long! 
O  the  reproach  which  is  cast  upon  the  glorious  name  of  the 
great  God,  by  their  diffidence  and  despondency,  who  visi- 
bly stand  in  special  relation  to  him,  but  fear  the  impotent 
malice  of  mortal  man  more  than  they  can  trust  in  his  Al- 
mighty love !  If  indeed  you  are  justified  by  faith,  and  have 
peace  with  God,  it  becomes  you  so  to  rejoice  in  the  hope 
of  the  glory  of  God,  as  also  to  glory  in  tribulation,  and  tell 
all  the  world  that  in  his  favour  stands  your  life,  and  that 
you  care  not  who  is  displeased  with  you  for  the  things 
wherewith,  von  have  reason  to  apprehend,  he  is  pleased. 

2.  Demean  yourselves  M'ith  that  care,  caution,  and  duti- 
fulness  that  become  a  state  of  reconciliation.  Bethink 
yourselves  that  your  present  peace  and  friendship  with  God 
is  not  orisfinal,  and  continued  from  thence,  but  hath  been 
interrupted  and  bmken;  that  your  peace  is  not  that  of  con- 
stantly innocent  persons.  You  stand  not  in  this  good  and 
happy  state  because  you  never  offended,  but  as  being  re- 
conciled, and  who  therefore  were  once  enemies.  And 
when  you  were  brought  to  know,  in  that  your  day,  which 
you  have  enjoyed,  the  things  belonging  to  your  peace,  you 
were  made  to  feel  the  smart  and  taste  the  bitterness  of  j'our 
having  been  alienated,  and  enemies  in  your  minds  by 
wicked  works.  When  the  terrors  of  God  did  beset  vou 
round,  and  his  arrows  stuck  fast  in  you,  did  vou  not  then 


448 


THE  REDEEMER'S  TEARS 


find  trouble  and  sorrow  1  were  you  not  m  a  fearful  expec- 
tation of  wrath  and  fiery  indignation  to  consume  and  burn 
you  up  as  adv^ersaries  1  Would  you  not  then  have  given 
all  the  world  for  a  peaceful  word  or  look  !  for  any  glim- 
mering hope  of  peace  1  How  wary  and  afraid  should  you 
be  of  a  new  breach !  How  should  you  study  acceptable 
deportments,  and  to  walk  worthy  of  God  unto  all  well- 
pleasing  !  How  strictly  careful  should  you  be  to  keep 
faith  with  him,  and  abide  steadfast  in  his  covenant!  How 
concerned  for  his  interest !  and  in  what  agonies  of  spirit, 
when  you  behold  the  eruptions  of  enmity  against  him  from 
any  others  !  not  from  any  distrust,  or  fear  of  final  prejudice 
to  his  interest,  but  from  the  apprehension  of  the  unrighte- 
ousness of  the  thing  itself,  and  a  dutiful  love  to  his  name, 
throne,  and  government.  How  zealous  should  you  be  to 
draw  in  others !  how  fervent  in  your  endeavours,  within 
your  own  sphere,  and  how  large  in  your  desires,  extended 
as  far  as  the  sphere  of  the  universe,  that  every  knee  might 
bow  to  him,  and  every  tongue  confess  to  him  I  They 
ought  to  be  more  deeply  concerned  for  his  righteous  cause, 
that  remember  they  were  once  most  unrighteously  engaged 
against  it.  And  ought  besides  to  be  filled  with  compas- 
sion towards  the  souls  of  men,  yet  in  an  unreconciled 
state,  as  having  known  by  the  terrors  of  the  Lord,  and  re- 
membering the  experienced  dismalness  and  horror  of  that 
state,  what  it  was  to  have  Divine  wrath  and  justice  armed 
against  you  with  Almighty  power !  And  to  have  heard 
the  thunder  of  such  a  voice,  "  I  lift  my  hand  to  heaven, 
and  swear  I  live  for  ever,  if  I  whet  my  glittering  sword, 
and  my  hand  take  hold  on  vengeance,  I  will  recompense 
fury  to  mine  adversaries,  vengeance  to  mine  enemies." — 
Do  you  not  know  what  the  case  is  like  to  be,  when  pot- 
sherds, that  should  strive  but  with  the  potsherds  of  the 
earth,  v^enture  to  oppose  themselves  as  antagonists  to  om- 
nipotency  1  And  when  briars  and  thorns  set  themselves 
in  battle-array  against  the  consuming  fire,  how  easily  it 
can  pass  through,  and  devour,  and  burn  them  up  together  1 
And  how  mucli  more  fearful  is  their  condition  that  know 
it  not!  but  are  ready  to  rush  like  the  horse  into  the  battle  ! 
Do  you  owe  no  duty,  no  pity  to  them  that  have  the  same 
nature  with  you,  and  with  whom  your  case  was  once  the 
same  ?  If  you  do  indeed  know  the  things  of  your  peace 
God-ward,  so  as  to  have  made  your  peace,  to  have  come 
to  an  agreement,  and  struck  a  covenant  with  him ;  you 
have  now  taken  his  side,  are  of  his  confederates ;  not  as 
equals  but  subjects.  You  have  sworn  allegiance  to  him, 
and  associated  yourself  with  all  them  that  have  done  so. 
There  can  hereupon  be  but  one  common  interest  to  him 
and  you.  Hence  therefore  you  are  most  strictly  obliged 
to  wish  well  to  that  interest,  and  promote  it  to  your  utter- 
most, in  his  own  way,  i.  e.  according  to  his  openly  avowed 
inclination  and  design,  and  the  genuine  constitution  of 
that  kingdom  which  he  hath  erected,  and  is  intent  to  en- 
large and  extend  further  in  the  Avorld.  That,  you  do  well 
know,  is  a  kingdom  of  grace ;  for  his  natural  kingdom  al- 
ready confines  with  the  universe,  and  can  have  no  enlarge- 
ment, without  enlarging  the  creation.  Whosoever  they 
are  that  contend  against  him,  are  not  merely  enemies, 
therefore,  but  rebels.  And  you  see  he  aims  to  conquer 
them  by  love  and  goodness;  and  therefore  treats  with 
them,  and  seeks  to  establish  a  kingdom  over  them,  in  and 
by  a  Mediator,  who  if  he  were  not  intent  upon  the  same 
design,  had  never  lamented  the  destruction  of  any  of  them, 
and  wept  over  their  ruin,  as  here  you  find.  So,  therefore, 
should  you  long  for  the  conversion  of  souls,  and  enlarge- 
ment of  his  kingdom  this  way,  both  out  of  loyalty  to  him, 
and  compassion  towards  them. 

II.  For  such  as  may  be  in  great  fear  lest  this  prove  to  be 
their  case.  They  are  either  such  as  may  fear  it,  but  dc 
not ;  or  such  as  are  deeply  afflicted  with  this  actual  fear. 

1.  For  the  former  sort,  who  are  in  too  great  danger  of 
bringing  themselves  into  this  dreadful  deplorate  condition, 
but  apprehend  nothing  of  it.  All  that  is  to  be  said  to 
them  apart  by  themselves,  is  only  to  awaken  them  out  of 
their  drowsy,  dangerous  slumber  and  security  ;  and  then 
they  will  be  capable  of  being  spoken  to,  together  with  the 
other  sort.     Let  me  therefore, 

L  Demand  of  you ;  do  you  believe  there  is  a  Lord 
over  you,  yea  or  nol  Use  your  thoughts,  for  about  mat- 
ters that  concern  you  less,  you  can  think.     Do  you  not 


apprehend  you  have  an  invisible  Owner  and  Ruler,  that 
rightfully  claims  to  himself  an  interest  in  you,  and  a  go- 
verning power  over  youl  How  came  you  into  being  1 
You  know  you  made  not  yourselves.  And  if  you  yet  look 
no  higher  than  to  progenitors  of  your  own  kind,  mortal 
men,  as  you  are;  how  came  they  into  being  1  You  have 
so  much  understanding  about  you,  if  you  would  use  it,  as 
to  know  they  could  none  of  them  make  themselves  more 
than  you,  and  that,  therefore,  human  race  must  have  had 
its  beginning  from  some  superior  Maker.  And  did  not 
he  that  made  them  make  you  and  all  things  else  1  Where 
are  your  arguments  to  prove  it  was  otherwise,  and  that 
this  world,  and  all  the  generations  of  men,  took  beginning 
of  themselve.'?,  without  a  wise  and  mighty  Creator  %  Pro- 
duce your  strong  reasons,  upon  which  you  will  venture 
your  souls,  and  all  the  possibilities  of  your  being  happy  or 
miserable  to  eternity !  Will  your  imagination  make  you 
safe  1  and  protect  you  against  his  wrath  and  justice,  whose 
authority  you  will  not  own"?  Can  you,  by  it,  uncreate 
your  Creator,  and  nullify  the  eternal  Being?  or  have  you 
any  thing  else,  besides  your  own  blind  imagination,  to 
make  you  confident,  that  all  things  came  of  nothing,  with- 
out any  maker]  But  if  you  know  not  how  to  think  this 
reasonable,  and  apprehend  you  must  allow  yourselves  to 
owe  your  being  to  an  Almighty  Creator,  let  me, 

2.  Ask  of  you  how  you  think  your  life  is  maintained  1 
Doth  not  he  that  made  you  live,  keep  you  alive  1  Whereas 
you  have  heard  we  all  live,  and  move,  and  have  our  be- 
ings in  him,  doth  it  not  seem  most  likely  to  you  to  be  so  1 
Have  you  power  of  your  own  life  1  Do  you  think  you  can 
live  as  long  as  you  will  1  At  least  do  you  not  find  you  need 
the  common  helps  of  meat  and  drink,  and  air  and  clothing, 
for  the  support  and  comfort  of  your  lives'?  And  are  not 
all  these  his  creatures  as  well  as  you  1  And  can  you  have 
them,  whether  he  will  or  no  '? 

3.  And  how  can  you  think  that  he  that  made  and  main- 
tains you,  hath  no  right  to  rule  you  1  If  it  were  possible  any 
one  should  as  much  depend  upon  you,  would  you  not  claim 
such  power  over  him  "?  Can  you  suppose  yourself  to  be 
under  no  obligation  to  please  him,  who  hath  done  so  much 
for  you?  and  to  do  his  will,  if  you  can  any  way  know  it  1 

4.  And  can  you  pretend  you  have  no  means  to  know  iti 
That  book  that  goes  up  and  down  under  the  name  of  his 
Word,  can  you  disprove  it  to  be  his  Word  1  If  such  writings 
should  now  first  come  into  the  world,  so  sincere,  so  awful, 
so  holy,  so  heavenly,  bearing  so  expressly  the  Divine 
image,  avowing  themselves  to  be  from  God,  and  the  most 
wonderful  works  are  wrought  to  prove  them  his  word,  the 
deaf  made  to  hear,  the  blind  to  see,  the  dumb  to  speak,  the 
sick  healed,  the  dead  raised,  by  a  word  only  commanding 
it  to  be  so,  would  you  not  confess  this  to  be  sufficient  evi- 
dence that  this  revelation  came  from  heaven.  And  are 
you  not  sufliiciently  assured  they  are  so  confirmed?  Do 
you  find  in  yourselves  any  inclination  to  cheat  your  child- 
ren, in  any  thing  that  concerns  their  well  being  1  Why 
should  you  more  suspect  your  forefather's  design,  to  cheat 
you  in  the  mere  reporting  falsely  a  matter  of  fact  1  Was 
not  human  nature  the  same,  so  many  hundred  years  ago  1 
Did  ever  the  enemies  of  the  Christian  name,  in  the  earlier 
days  of  Christianity,  when  it  was  but  a  novelty  in  the 
world,  and  as  much  hated,  and  endeavoured  to  be  rooted 
out,  as  ever  any  profession  was,  deny  such  matters  of  fact  ] 
Have  not  some  of  the  most  spiteful  of  them  confessed  if? 
Did  not  Christians  then  willingly  sacrifice  their  lives  by 
multitudes,  upon  the  assured  truth  of  these  things.  Have 
they  not  been  ever  since  most  strictly  careful  to  preserve 
these  writings,  and  transmit  them,  as  wherein  the  all  of 
themselves  and  their  posterity  was  contained  1  And  where 
is  now  your  new  light?  where  are  your  latter  discoveries, 
upon  which,  so  many  ages  after,  you  are  able  to  evict 
these  writings  of  falsehood,  or  dare  venture  to  disbelieve 
them  ? 

5.  But  if  you  believe  these  writings  to  be  divine,  how 
expressly  is  it  told  you,  in  them,  what  the  state  of  your 
case  is  God-ward,  and  what  he  requires  of  you  !  You  may 
see  you  have  displeased  him,  and  how  you  are  to  please 
him,  as  hath  been  shown  before  in  this  discourse.  You 
Imow  that  3^ou  have  lived  in  the  world  mindless  and  in- 
observant of  him,  not  trusting,  fearing,  loving,  or  delight- 
ing in  him,  declining  his  acquaintance   and   converse ; 


WEPT  OVER  LOST  SOULS. 


449 


seeking  your  oM'n  pleasure,  following  your  inclination, 
doing  your  own  will ;  as  if  you  were  supreme,  never  mind- 
ing to  refer  your  actions  to  his  precepts  as  your  rule,  or  to 
his  glory  as  your  end.  And  from  that  word  of  his  you 
may  understand  all  this  to  be  very  displeasing  to  him. 
And  that  you  can  never  please  him  by  continuing  this 
course,  but  by  breaking  it  ofl",  and  returning  to  him  as  your 
Lord  and  your  God.  That  since  your  case  did  need  a  re- 
deemer, and  reconciler,  and  he  hath  provided  and  appointed 
one  for  you  ;  you  are  to  apply  yourselves  to  him,  to  commit 
and  subject  your  souls  to  him,  to  trust  in  his  merits  and 
blood,  and  submit  to  his  authority  and  government.  And, 

6.  Are  you  not  continually  called  hereto  by  the  Gospel, 
under  which  you  have  lived  all  this  while  1  so  that  you 
are  in  actual,  continual  rebellion  against  him  all  the  while 
you  comply  not  with  this  call ;  every  breath  you  draw  is 
rebellious  breath.  There  is  no  moment  wherein  this  lies 
not  upon  you,  by  every  moment's  addition  to  your  time. 
And  that  patience  of  his  which  adds  by  moments  to  your 
life,  and  should  lead  you  to  repentance,  is,  while  you  re- 
pent not,  perverted  by  you,  only  to  the  treasuring  up  of 
wrath  against  the  day  of  wrath,  and  the  revelation  of  his 
righteous  judgment. 

7.  And  do  you  not  find,  as  his  word  also  plainly  tells  you, 
a  great  averseness  and  disinclination  in  you  to  any  such 
serious  solemn  applying  yourself  to  him,  and  your  Re- 
deemer 1  Try  your  own  hearts  ;  do  you  not  find  them  draw 
back  and  recoil  1  if  you  urge  them,  do  they  not  still  fly 
off?  How  loth  are  you  to  retire !  and  set  yourselves  to 
consider  your  case  !  and  unto  serious  seeking  of  God  in 
Christ !  both  from  a  reluctancy  and  indisposition  to  any 
such  employment  as  this  is  itself,  and  from  disaffection  to 
that  whereto  it  tends,  the  breaking  off  your  former  sinful 
course  of  life,  and  entering  upon  a  better.  And  does  not 
all  this  show  you  the  plain  truth  of  what  the  word  of  God 
hath  told  you,  that  the  Ethiopian  may  as  soon  change  his 
skin,  or  the  leopard  his  spots,  as  they  do  good  who  are  ac- 
customed to  do  evil;  (Jer.  xiii.  23.)  that  you  have  a  heart 
that  cannot  repent,  (Rom.  ii.  5.)  till  God  give  you  repent- 
ance to  life,  (Acts  xi.  18.)  that  you  cannot  come  to  Christ 
till  the  Father  draw  you,  John  vi.  44.  Do  you  not  see 
your  case  then  1  that  you  must  perish  if  you  have  not  help 
from  heaven,  if  God  do  not  give  you  his  g«ace,  to  over- 
come and  cure  the  averseness  and  malignity  of  your  na- 
ture! that  things  are  likely  thus  to  run  on  with  you  as  they 
have  from  day  to  day,  and  from  year  to  year ;  and  you 
that  are  unwilling  to  take  the  course  that  is  necessary  for 
your  salvation  to-day,  are  likely  to  be  as  vmwilling  to- 
morrow, and  so  your  lives  consume  in  vanity,  till  you  drop 
into  perdition  1     But, 

8.  Dost  thou  not  also  know,  sinner,  (what  hath  been  so 
newly  shown  thee  from  God's  word,)  that,  by  thy  being 
under  the  Gospel,  thou  hast  a  day  of  grace  1  not  only  as 
offers  of  pardon  and  reconciliation  are  made  to  thee  in  it, 
but  also  as  through  it,  converting,  heart-renewing  grace 
is  to  be  expected,  and  may  be  had "?  that  what  is  sufficient 
for  the  turning  and  changing  of  thy  heart,  is  usually  not 
given  all  at  once,  but  as  gentler  insinuations  (the  injection 
of  some  good  thoughts  and  desires)  are  complied  with, 
more  powerful  influences  may  be  hoped  to  follow?  that 
therefore  thou  art  concerned,  itpon  any  such  thought  cast 
into  thy  mind,  of  going  now  to  seek  God  for  the  life  of  thy 
soul,  to  strive,  thyself,"against  thy  own  di.sinclination?  that 
if  thou  do  not,  but  yield  to  it,  and  still  defer,  it  may  prove 
mortal  to  theel  For  is  it  not  plain  to  thee  in  itself,  and 
from  what  hath  been  said,  that  this  day  hath  its  limits,  and 
will  come  to  an  end  1  Dost  thou  not  know  thou  art  a  mor- 
tal creature,  that  thy  breath  is  in  thy  nostrils'?  Dost  thou 
know  how  near  thou  art  to  the  end  of  thy  life  1  and  how 
few  breaths  there  may  be  for  thee  between  this  present 
moment  and  eternity'?  Dost  thou  not  know  thy  day  of 
grace  may  end  before  thy  life  1  that  thou  mayst  be  cast  far 
enough  out  of  the  sound  of  the  Gospel  1"  and  if  thou 
shouldst  carry  any  notices  of  it  with  thee,  thou,  who  hast 
been  so  unapt  to  consider  them,  while  they  were  daily 
pressed  upon  thee,  wilt  most  probably  be  less  apt  when 
thou  hearest  of  no  such  thing  ■?  that  thou  mayst  live  still 
under  the  Gospel,  and  the  Spirit  of  grace  retire  from  thee, 
and  never  attempt  thee  more  for  thy  former  despiting  of 
it  ■?  For  what  obligation  hast  thou  upon  that  blessed  Spirit  1 


Or  why  shouldst  thou  think  a  Deity  bound  to  attend  upon 
thy  triflings  1     And, 

9.  If  yet  all  this  move  not:  consider  what  it  will  be  to 
die  unreconciled  to  God!  Thou  hast  been  his  enemy,  he 
hath  made  thee  gracious  oflersof  peace,  waited  long  upon 
thee,  thou  hast  made  light  of  all.  The  matter  must  at 
length  end  either  in  reconciliatiun  or  vengeance !  The 
former  is  not  acceptable  to  thee:  art  thou  prepared  for  the 
latter  1  canst  thou  sustain  if?  Is  it  not  a  fearful  thing  to 
fall  into  the  hands  of  the  living  God  ?  Thou  wilt  not  do 
him  right ;  he  must  then  right  himself  upon  thee.  Dost 
thou  think  he  cannot  do  if?  canst  thou  doubt  his  power'? 
Cast  thine  eyes  about  thee,  behold  the  greatness  (as  farsis 
thou  canst)  of  this  creation  of  his,  whereof  thou  art  a  very 
little  part.  He  that  hath  made  that  sun  over  thine  head, 
and  stretched  out  those  spacious  heavens,  that  hath  fur- 
nished them  with  those  innumerable  bright  stars,  that  go- 
verns all  their  motions,  that  haih  hung  this  earth  upon  no- 
thing, that  made  and  sustains  that  great  variety  of  crea- 
tures that  inhabit  it,  can  he  not  deal  with  thee,  a  worml 
Can  thine  heart  endure,  or  thine  hands  be  strong,  if  he 
plead  with  thee"?  if  he  surround  ihce  with  his  terrors,  and 
set  them  in  battle  array  against  thee!  Hell  and  destruc- 
tion are  open  before  him,  and  without  covering;  how  soon 
art  thou  cast  in  and  ingulfed  !  Sit  down,  and  consider 
whether  thou  be  able,  with  tkij  impotencij,  to  stand  before 
him,  that  comes  against  tht^e  with  almighty  poicer !  Is  it 
not  better  to  sue  in  time  for  peace  1  But  perhaps  thou 
mayst  say,  "  I  begin  now  to  fear  it  is  too  late,  I  have  so 
long  slighted  the  Gospel,  resisted  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God, 
abused  and  baffled  my  o\\ti  light  and  conscience,  that  I 
am  afraid  God  will  quite  abandon  me,  and  cast  me  off  for 
ever."  It  is  well  if  thou  do  indeed  begin  to  fear.  That 
fear  gives  hope.  Thou  art  then  capable  of  coming  into 
their  rank  who  are  next  to  be  spoken  to,  viz. 

2.  Such  as  feel  themselves  afflicted  with  the  apprehen- 
sion and  dread  of  their  having  out-lived  their  day,  and 
that  the  things  of  their  peace  are  now  irrecoverably  hid 
from  their  eyes.  I  desire  to  counsel  such  faithfully,  accord- 
ing to  that  light  and  guidance  which  the  Gospel  of  our 
Lord  affords  us  in  reference  to  any  such  case. 

1.  Take  heed  of  stifling  that  fear  suddenly,  but  labour  to 
improve  it  to  some  advantage,  and  then  to  cure  and  remove 
it  by  rational,  evangelical  means  and  methods.  Do  not, 
as  thou  lovest  the  life  of  thy  soul,  go  about  suddenh',  or  by 
undue  means,  to  smother  or  extinguish  it.  'Tis  too  pos- 
sible, when  any  such  apprehension  strikes  into  a  man's 
mind,  because  'tis  a  sharp  or  piercingthought,  disturbs  his 
quiet,  gives  him  molestation,  and  some  torture,  to  pluck 
out  the  dart  too  soon,  and  cast  it  away.  Perhaps  such  a 
course  is  taken,  as  doth  him  unspeakably  more  mischief, 
than  a  thousand  such  thoughts  would  ever  do.  He  di- 
verts, it  may  be,  to  vain  company,  or  to  sensuality,  talks 
or  drinks  away  his  trouble  ;  makes  death  his  cure  of  pain, 
and  to  avoid  the  fear  of  hell,  leaps  into  it.  Is  this  indeed 
the  wisest  course "?  Either  thy  apprehension  is  reasonable, 
or  unreasonable.  If  it  should  prove  a  reasonable  appre- 
hension, as  it  is  a  terrible  one,  would  the  neglect  of  it  be- 
come a  reasonable  creature,  or  mend  thj-  case  1  if  it  shall 
be  found  unreasonable,  it  may  require  time  and  some  de- 
bate to  discover  it  to  be  so  ;  whereby,  when  it  is  manifestly 
detected,  with  how  much  greater  satisfaction  is  it  laid  aside! 
Labour  then  to  inquire  rightly  concerning  this  matter. 

2.  In  this  inquiry,  consider  diligently  what  the  kind  of 
that  fear  is  that  you  find  yourselves  afflicted  with.  The 
fear  that  perplexes  your  heart, must  someway  correspond 
to  the  apprehension  you  have  in  your  mind,  touching  your 
case.  Consider  what  that  is,  and  in  what  form  it  shows 
itself  there.  Doth  it  appear  in  the  form  of  a  peremptory 
judgment,  a  definitive  sentence,  which  3'ou  have  past  with- 
in yourself  concerning  your  ease;  that  your  day  is  over, 
and  you  are  a  lost  creature  1  or  only  of  a  mere  doubt,  lest 
it  should  prove  so"?  The  fear  that  corresponds  to  the 
former  of  these,  makes  you  quite  desperate,  and  ol)stinate- 
ly  resolute  against  any  means  for  the  bettering  of  your 
condition.  The  fear  that  answers  to  the  latter  apprehen- 
sion, hath  a  mixture  of  hope  in  it,  which  admits  of  some- 
what to  be  done  for  your  relief,  and  will  prompt  thereunto. 
Labour  to  discern  which  of  these  is  the  present  temper  and 
posture  of  your  spirit. 


450 


THE  REDEEMER'S  TEARS 


3.  If  you  find  it  be  the  former,  let  no  thought  any  longer 
dwell  in  your  mind  under  tko.t  form,  viz.  as  a  definitive 
sentence  concerning  your  state.  You  have  nothing  to  do 
to  pass  such  a  judgment ;  the  tendency  of  it  is  dismal  and 
horrid,  as  you  may,  yourself,  perceive.  And  your  ground 
for  it  is  none  at  all.  Your  conscience  within  you  is  to  do 
the  office  of  a  judge  ;  but  only  of  an  under-judge,  that  is 
to  proceed  strictly  by  rule,  prescribed  and  set  by  the  sove- 
reign Lord  and  Arbiter  of  life  and  death :  there  is  one 
Lawgiver,  who  is  able  to  save  and  to  destroy.  Nor  is 
your  conscience,  as  an  under-judge,  to  meddle  at  all,  but 
in  cases  within  your  cognizance.  This  about  your  final 
state  is  a  reserved,  excepted  case,  belonging  only  to  the 
supreme  tribunal,  which  you  mu.st  take  heed  how  you 
usurp.  As  such  a  judgment  tends  to  make  you  desperate, 
so  there  will  be  high  presumption  in  this  despair.  Dare 
you  take  upon  you  to  cancel  and  nullify  to  yourself  the 
obligation  of  the  evangelical  lawl  and  whereas  that  makes 
it  your  duty  to  repent,  and  believe  the  Gospel,  to  absolve 
yourself  from  this  bond,  and  say,  it  is  none  of  your  duty, 
or  make  it  impossible  to  you  to  do  it  1  You  have  matter 
and  cases  enough  within  the  cognizance  of  your  conscience, 
not  only  the  particular  actions  of  your  life,  but  your  pre- 
sent stale  also,  whether  you  be  as  yet  in  a  state  of  accept- 
ance with  God,  through  Christ,  yea  or  no.  And  here  you 
have  rules  set  you  to  judge  by.  But  concerning  your  final 
state,  or  that  you  shall  never  be  brought  into  a  state  of  ac- 
ceptance, you  have  no  rule  by  which  you  can  make  such  a 
judgment;  and  therefore  this  judgment  belongs  not  to  you. 
Look  then  upon  the  matter  of  your  final  condition,  as  an 
exempt  case,  reserved  to  the  future  judgment,  and  the  pre- 
sent determination  whereof,  against  yourself,  is  without 
your  compass  and  line,  and  most  unsuitable  to  the  state  of 
probation,  wherein,  you  are  to  reckon,  God  continues  you 
liere,  witli  the  rest  of  men  in  this  world ;  and  therefore 
any  such  judgment  you  should  tear  and  reverse,  and  as 
such,  not  permit  to  have  any  place  with  you. 

4.  Yet  since,  as  hath  been  said,  you  are  not  quite  to  re- 
ject or  obliterate  any  apprehension  or  thought  touching 
this  subject,  make  it  your  business  to  correct  and  reduce  it 
to  that  other  form,  i.  e.  let  it  only  for  the  present  remain  with 
you,  as  a  doubt  how  your  case  now  stands,  and  what  issue 
it  may  at  length  have.  And  see  that  your  fear  thereupon 
be  answerable  to  your  apprehension,  so  rectified.  While 
as  yet  it  is  not  evident,  you  have  made  your  peace  with 
God  upon  his  known  terms,  you  are  to  consider  God  hath 
left  your  case  a  doubtful  case,  and  you  are  to  conceive  of 
it  accordingly;  and  are  to  entertain  a  fear  concerning  it, 
not  as  certainly  hopeless,  but  as  uncertain.  And  as  yours 
is  really  a  doubtful  case,  'tis  a  most  important  one.  It 
concerns  your  souls,  and  your  eternal  well-being,  and  is 
not  therefore  to  be  neglected,  or  trifled  with.  You  do  not 
know  how  God  will  deal  with  you  :  whether  he  will  again 
alford  you  such  help  as  he  hath  done,  or  whether  ever  he 
will  eflfectually  move  your  heart  unto  conversion  and  sal- 
vation. You  therefore  are  to  work  out  your  salvation  with 
fear  and  trembling,  because  (as  was  told  you)  he  works, 
but  of  his  own  good  pleasure.  Your  fear  should  not  ex- 
ceed this  state  of  your  case,  so  as  to  exclude  hope.  It  is 
of  unspeakable  concernment  to  you,  that  hope  do  intermin- 
gle with  your  fear.  That  will  do  much  to  mollify  and 
soften  your  hearts,  that  after  all  the  abuse  of  mercy,  and 
imposing  upon  the  patience  of  God,  your  neglects  and 
slights  of  a  bleeding  Saviour,  your  resisting  and  grieving 
the  Spirit  of  grace,  he  may  yet,  once  for  all,  visit  your  for- 
lorn soul  with  his  vital  influence,  and  save  you  from  go- 
ing down  to  perdition  !  How  can  your  hearts  but  melt 
and  break  upon  this  apprehension  !  And  it  is  not  agroitnd- 
less  one.  He  that  "  came  not  to  call  the  righteous  but 
sinners  to  repentance,"  will  not  fail  to  treat  them  well, 
whom  he  sees  beginning  to  listen  to  his  call,  and  enter- 
taining the  thoughts  that  most  directly  tend  to  bring  them 
to  a  compliap.ce  with  it.  Your  hope  insinuating  itself  and 
mingling  with  your  fear,  is  highly  grateful  to  the  God  of 
all  grace.  He  takes  pleasure  in  them  that  fear  him,  and  in 
them  that  hope  in  his  mercy,  Psal.  exlvii.  H. 

5.  But  see  to  it  also  that  your  fear  be  not  slight  and  mo- 
mentary, and  that  it  vanish  not,  while  as  yet  it  hath  so 
great  a  work  to  do  in  you,  viz.  to  engage  you  to  accept 
God's  own  terms  of  peace  and  reconciliation,  with  all  your 


heart  and  soul.  It  is  of  continual  use,  even  not  only  in 
order  to  conversion,  but  to  the  converted  also.  Can  you 
think  those  mentioned  words  were  spoken  to  none  such, 
Phil.  ii.  12,  13. 1  or  those,  Heb.  iv.  1.  Let  us  therefore 
fear,  lest  a  promise  being  left  us  of  entering  into  his  rest, 
any  of  you  should  .seem  to  come  short,  &c.1  And  do  we 
not  find  a  holy  fear  is  to  contribute  all  along  to  the  whole 
of  progressive  sanctiticationl  2  Cor.  vii.  L  Having  there- 
fore these  promises,  dearly  beloved,  let  us  cleanse  our- 
selves from  all  filthiness  of  the  flesh  and  spirit,  perfecting 
holiness  in  the  fear  of  God.  And  that  by  it  he  preserves 
his  own,  that  they  never  depart  from  him,  Jer.  xxxii.  40. 
Much  more  do  you  need  ii  in  your  present  case,  while 
matters  are  yet  in  treaty  between  God  and  you.  And  as 
it  should  not  exceed  the  true  apprehension  of  your  case, 
so  nor  should  it  come  short  of  it. 

6.  You  should  therefore  in  order  hereto  aggravate  to 
yourselves  the  just  causes  of  your  fear.  Why  are  you 
afraid  your  day  should  be  over,  and  the  things  of  your 
peace  be  for  ever  hid  from  your  eyes  1  Is  it  not  that  you 
have  sinned  against  much  light,  against  many  checks  of 
your  own  consciences,  against  many  very  serious  warn- 
ings and  exhortations,  many  earnest  importunate  beseech- 
ings  and  entreaties  you  have  had  in  the  ministry  of  the 
Gospel,  many  motions  and  strivings  of  the  Spirit  of  God 
thereby'?  Let  your  thoughts  dwell  upon  these  things. 
Think  what  it  is  for  the  great  God,  the  Lord  of  glory,  to 
have  been  slighted  by  a  worm  !  Doth  not  this  deserve  as  ill 
things  at  the  hands  of  God  as  you  can  fear  1  'Tis  fit  you 
should  apprehend  what  your  desert  is,  though  perhaps 
mercy  may  interpose  and  avert  the  deserved  dreadful  event. 
And  if  he  have  signified  his  displea.sure  towards  you  here- 
upon, by  desisting  for  the  present,  and  ceasing  to  strive 
with  you  as  he  hath  formerly  done ;  if  your  heart  be  grown 
more  cold,  and  dead,  and  hard,  than  sometime  it  was  ;  if 
you  have  been  left  so  as  to  fall  into  grosser  sin;  'lis highly 
reasonable  you  should  fear  being  finally  forsaken  of  the 
blessed  spirit  of  God,  and  greatly  fear  it,  but  with  an  awful 
fear,  that  may  awaken  you  most  earnestly  to  endeavour 
his  return  to  you,  not  with  a  despairing  fear,  that  will  bind 
you  up  from  any  further  endeavour  for  your  soul  at  all. 

And  if  upon  all  this  (by  death  or  otherwise)  such  a  min- 
istry be  withdrawn  from  you  as  God  did  work  by,  in  some 
degree,  upon  you,  and  you  find  not  in  that  kind,  what  is 
so  suitable  to  your  state  and  case ;  take  heed  lest  you  be 
stupid  under  such  a  stroke.  Think  what  it  imports  unto 
you,  if  God  have,  as  it  were,  said  concerning  any  servant 
of  his,  (as  Ezek.  iii.  26.)  I  will  make  his  tongue  cleave  to 
the  roof  of  his  mouth,  that  he  shall  not  be  a  reprover  to 
you  any  more!  Consider  that  God  may  by  this  be  making 
way  that  "  wrath  may  come  upon  you  to  the  uttermost," 
and  never  let  you  have  opportunity  to  know  more  the 
things  of  your  peace.  Perhaps  you  may  never  meet  with 
the  man  more,  that  shall  speak  so  accommodately  to  your 
condition,  that  shall  so  closely  pursue  you  through  all  the 
haunts,  and  subterfuges,  and  lurking-holes,  wherein  your 
guilty  convinced  soul  hath  been  Avont  to  hide  itself,  and 
falsely  seek  to  heal  its  own  wounds.  One  of  more  value 
may  be  less  apt,  possibly,  to  profit  you :  as  a  more  polished 
key  doth  not  therefore  alike  fit  every  lock.  And  thy  case 
may  be  such,  that  thou  shalt  never  hear  a  sermon  or  the 
voice  of  a  preacher  more. 

7.  And  now  in  this  case  recollect  yourselves,  what  sins 
you  have  been  formerly  convinced  of,  under  such  a  minis- 
try, and  which  you  have  persisted  in  notwithstanding. 
Were  you  never  convinced  of  your  neglecting  God,  and 
living  as  without  him  in  the  world  1  of  your  low  esteem 
and  disregard  of  Christ  1  of  your  worldliness,  your  mind- 
ing only  the  things  of  this  earth  1  of  your  carnality,  pride, 
self-seeking,  voluptuousness,  your  having  been  lovers  of 
pleasures  more  than  lovers  of  God  1  of  your  unprofitable- 
ness in  your  station"?  wherein  you  ought  to  have  lived 
more  conformably  to  Christian  rules  andprecej)ts,  accord- 
ing to  the  relations  wherein  God  had  set  you  '?  Were  you 
never  convinced  how  very  faulty  governors  you  have  been, 
or  members  of  families?  parents  or  masters,  children  or 
servants,  &c.  1  What  will  this  come  to  at  last,  that  con- 
victions have  hitherto  signified  and  served  for  nothing  but 
increase  of  guilt  1 

8.  Under  all  this  weight  and  load  of  guilt,  consider  what 


WEPT  OVER  LOST  SOULS. 


451 


you  have  to  do  for  your  souls !  Bethink  yourselves ;  are 
you  to  sit  down  and  yield  yourselv^es  to  perish"?  Con- 
sider, man,  it  is  the  business  of  thy  soul,  and  of  thine  eter- 
nal state,  that  is  now  before  thee.  Thou  hast  the  dreadful 
flaminggulf  of  everlasting  horror  and  misery  in  view ;  hast 
thou  nothing  left  thee  to  do  but  to  throw  thyself  into  it  1 
Methinks  thou  shouldst  sooner  reconcile  thy  thoughts 
to  any  thing  than  that;  and  that,  if  any  thing  at  all  be  to 
be  done  for  thine  escape,  thou  shouldst  rather  set  thyself 
about  it,  and  do  it.  Thou  art  yet  alive,  not  yet  in  hell,  yet 
the  patience  of  God  spares  thee,  thou  hast  yet  time  to 
consider,  thou  hast  the  power  to  think  yet  left  thee,  and 
canst  thou  use  it  no  other  way  than  to  think  of  perishing  1 
Think  rather  how  not  to  perish.  A  great  point  is  gained, 
if  thou  art  but  brought  to  say,  "  What  shall  I  do  to  be 
saved  1"  which  doth  imply  thou  dost  both  apprehend  the 
distressedness  of  thy  case,  and  art  willing  to  do  any  thing 
that  is  to  be  done  for  thy  relief  And  if  thou  art  brought 
to  this,  thy  circumstances  may  perhaps  be  such,  that  thou 
canst  only  put  this  question  to  thyself,  and  art  only  thyself 
to  answer  it,  without  a  living,  present  guide,  which  may 
therefore  make  such  a  help  as  this  needful  to  thee.  Pos- 
sibly some  irresistible  providence  may  have  so  cast  thy  lot, 
that  thou  art  only  now  to  be  thy  own  preacher  ;  though  it 
sometime  was  otherwise  with  thee ;  and  things  were  said 
to  thee  most  suitable  to  the  condition  of  thy  soul.  Which 
thou  wouldst  not  then  consider.  It  is  yet  pressed  upon 
thee  to  consider  now,  with  some  design  to  direct  thy 
thoughts,  that  they  run  not  into  useless  and  troublesome 
confusion  only.  And  your  subject  being  what  course  you 
are  now  to  take,  that  you  may  escape  eternal  wrath  and 
ruin,  'tis  obvious  to  you  to  apprehend  nothing  is  to  be 
done  against  or  without  God,  but  with  him,  and  by  him. 
Your  utmost  consideration  can  but  bring  the  matter  to 
this  short  point,  that  whereas  you  have  highly  offended  the 
God  that  made  you,  incurred  his  wrath,  and  made  him 
your  enemy,  either  to  resist,  or  treat  and  supplicate.  That 
madness  which  would  let  you  intend  the  former,  is  not 
capable  of  consideration  at  all.  For,  if  you  consider,  will 
you  contend  with  omnipotency,  or  fight  with  an  all-devour- 
ing flame  1  And  as  to  the  loiter,  it  is  well  for  you,  that  it 
can  be  the  matter  of  your  consideration,  that  you  have  any 
encouragement  to  turn  your  thoughts  that  way.  You 
might  have  enemies  that,  being  provoked,  and  having  you 
in  their  power,  would  never  admit  of  a  treaty,  nor  regard 
your  supplications,  but  fall  upon  you  with  me-ciless  fury, 
and  leave  you  nothing  to  think  of  but  perishing.  Here  it 
is  not  so  with  you.  The  merciful  God  hath  graciously 
told  you,  fury  is  not  so  in  him,  but  that  (though  if  briars 
and  thorns  will  set  themselves  in  battle  against  him,  he 
will  easily  pass  through,  and  barn  them  up  together,  yet) 
if  any  will  take  hold  of  his  strength,  that  they  may  make 
peace  with  him,  they  shall  make  peace  with  him,  Isa. 
xxvii.  4,  5.  You  are  to  consider  there  is  danger  in  your 
case,  and  there  is  hope,  that  your  sin  is  not  so  little  as  to 
need  no  forgiveness,  nor  too  great  to  be  forgiven.  Where- 
fore, whose  case  soever  this  is,  since  you  may  be  forgiven, 
if  you  duly  apply  yourselves,  and  must  be  forgiven,  or  you 
are  undone,  my  further  advice  to  you  is,  and  you  may,  as 
to  this,  advise  j'^ourself,  having  nothing  else  left  you  to  do. 

9.  That  you  cast  yourselves  down  before  the  mercy- 
seat  of  God,  humble  yourselves  deeply  at  his  footstool, 
turn  to  him  with  all  your  soul,  implore  his  mercy  through 
Christ,  make  a  solemn  covenant  with  him,  taking  him  to 
be  your  God,  and  devoting  yourself  to  him  to  be  his,  ac- 
cepting his  Son  as  your  Lord  and  Saviour,  and  resigning 
your  soul  with  .submission  and  trust  entirely  to  him,  to  be 
ruled  and  saved  by  him.  That  you  are  to  do  this,  the 
case  is  plain,  and  even  speaks  itself;  how  you  are  to  do  it 
may  need  to  be  more  particularly  told  you. 

1.  Take  heed  that  what  you  do  in  this  be  not  the 
mere  effect  of  your  present  apprehended  distress,  but  of 
the  altered  judgment  and  inclination  of  your  mind  and 
heart.  The  apprehension  of  your  distressed  dangerous 
condition,  may  be  a  useful  means  and  inducement  to  en- 
gage you  more  seriously  to  listen  and  attend  to  the  pro- 
posals made  to  you  in  the  gospel.  But  if  upon  all  this, 
it  should  be  the  sense  of  your  heart  that  you  would  rather 
live  still  as  without  God  in  the  world,  and  that  yon  would 
never  come  to  any  such  treaty  or  agreement  with  him,  if 


mere  necessity,  and  the  fear  of  perishing,  did  not  urge  yoa 
to  it,  you  are  still  but  where  you  were.  Therefore,  though 
the  feared  danger  was  necessary  to  make  you  bethink 
yourself,  and  consider  what  God  propounds  to  you;  that 
consideration  ought  to  have  that  further  effect  upon  you,  to 
convince  you  of  the  equity  and  desirableness  of  the  things 
themselves  which  he  propounds,  summarily,  of  your  be- 
taking yourselves  to  him  as  your  sovereign  Lord,  and  su- 
preme Good,  to  fear  and  love,  obey  and  enjoy  him,  in  Christ 
Jesus,  and  accordingly  ought  to  incline  your  heart  thereto. 

2.  You  are  to  consider  in  your  entering  info  this  cove- 
nant with  God  in  Christ,  that  it  is  not  a  transaction  for  the 
present  only  you  are  about,  but  for  your  whole  life.  This 
God  is  to  be  your  God  for  ever  and  ever,  your  God  and 
your  guide  even  to  the  death,  Psal.  xlviii.  14.  You  are 
to  live  in  his  fear  and  love,  in  his  service  and  communion, 
all  your  days,  and  must  understand  this  to  be  the  meaning 
and  tenor  of  the  covenant  which  you  make  with  him. 

3.  And  hence,  therefore,  it  is  plain  that  your  whole 
transaction  in  this  matter  must  proceed  from  a  new 
nature,  and  a  new  vital  principle  of  grace  and  holiness  in 
you.  What  you  do  herein  will  otherwise  neither  be  sin- 
cere nor  lasting.  You  can  never  embrace  religion  foriiself, 
without  this,  nor  continue  on  in  a  religious  course.  What 
you  do  only  from  a  temporary  pang  of  fear  upon  you,  is 
but  from  a  kind  of  force  that  is  for  the  present  upon  you, 
and  will  come  to  nothing,  as  soon  as  the  impression  of  that 
fear  wears  off.  The  reUgion  which  is  true  and  durable,  is 
not  from  a  spirit  of  fear,  but  of  love,  power,  and  a  sound 
mind,  2  Tim.  i.  7.  You  must  be  a  new  creature,  God's 
workmanship,  created  in  Christ  Jesus  unto  good  works — 
that  you  may  walk  in  them.  The  life  of  the  new  creature 
stands  in  love  to  God,  as  its  way  and  course  afterwards 
is  a  course  of  walking  with  God.  If  your  heart  be  not 
brought  to  love  God,  and  delicht  in  him,  you  are  still  but 
dead  towards  God,  and  you  still  remain  alive  unto  sin,  a.s 
before.  Whereas,  if  j'ou  ever  come  to  be  a  Christian  in- 
deed, you  must  be  able  truly  to  reckon  yourself  dead  to 
.sin,  and  alive  to  God  through  Jesus  Christ,  Rom.  vi.  11. 
Whereupon  in  your  making  the  mentioned  covenant,  3'ou 
must  yield  yourself  to  God,  as  one  that  is  alive  from  the 
dead,  as  'tis  ver.  13.  of  the  same  chapter.  A  new  nature 
and  life  in  you,  will  make  all  that  you  do,  in  a  way  of  duty, 
(whether  immediately  towards  God  or  man,  the  whole 
course  of  godliness,  righteousness,  and  sobriety,)  easy  and 
delightful  to  you.  And  because  it  is  evident  both  from 
many  plain  scriptures,  and  your  own  and  all  men's  expe- 
rience, that  you  cannot  be,  yourselves,  the  authors  of  a 
new  life  and  nature,  you  must  therefore  further,  in  entering 
into  this  covenant. 

4.  Most  earnesll}''  cry  to  God,  and  plead  with  him  for 
his  Spirit,  by  whom  the  vital  unitive  bond  must  be  con- 
tracted between  God  and  Christ  and  your  souls.  So  this 
will  be  the  covenant  of  life  and  peace.  Lord  !  how  gene- 
rally do  the  Christians  of  our  age  deceive  themselves  with 
a  self-sprung  religion  !  Divine  indeed  in  the  institution, 
but  merely  human,  in  respect  of  the  radication  and  exer- 
cise ;  in  which  respects  also  it  must  be  divine  or  nothing. 
What,  are  we  j-'et  to  learn  that  a  Divine  power  must  work 
and  form  our  religion  in  us,  as  well  as  Divine  authority 
direct  and  enjoin  it  1  Do  all  .such  Scriptures  go  for 
nothing  that  tell  us,  it  is  God  that  must  create  the  new 
heart,  and  renew  the  right  .'spirit  in  us ;  that  he  mu.st  turn 
us,  if  ever  we  be  turned ;  that  we  can  never  come  to  Christ, 
except  the  Father  draw  us,  &c.  ?  Nor  is  there  any  cause  of 
discouragement  in  this,  if  you  consider  what  hath  before 
been  said  in  this  discourse.  Ask  and  you  shall  receive, 
seek  and  you  shall  find,  knock  and  it  shall  be  opened  to 
you.  Your  heavenly  Father  will  give  his  Spirit  to  them 
that  ask,  more  readily  than  parents  do  bread  lo  their  chil- 
dren, and  not  a  stone.  But  what  if  3'oube  put  to  askollen, 
and  wait  long,  this  doth  but  the  more  endear  the  gift,  ajid 
show  the  high  value  of  it.  You  are  to  remember  how 
often  you  have  grieved,  resisted,  and  vexed  this  Spirit,  and 
that  you  have  made  God  wait  long  upon  you.  What  if 
the  absolute  sovereign  Lord  of  all  expect  your  attendance 
upon  html  He  M'aits  to  be  gracious—  and  blessed  are  they 
that  wait  for  him.  Renew  your  applications  to  him.  Lay 
from  time  lo  time  that  covenant  before  you,  which  your- 
selves must  be  wrought  up  unto  a  full  entire  closure  with. 


452 


THE  REDEEMER'S  TEARS 


And  if  it  be  not  done  at  one  time,  try  yet  if  it  will  another, 
and  try  again  and  again.  Remember  it  is  for  your  life,  for 
your  soul,  for  your  all.  But  do  not  satisfy  yourself  with 
only  such  faint  motions  within  thee,  as  may  only  be  the 
effects  of  thy  own  spirit,  of  thy  dark,  dull,  listless,  sluggish, 
dead,  hard  heart,  at  least  not  of  the  efficacious  regenerating 
'nfluence  of  the  divine  Spirit.  Didst  thou  never  hear 
what  mighty  workings  there  have  been  in  others,  when 
God  hath  been  transforming  and  renewing  them,  and 
drawing  them  into  living  union  with  his  Son,  and  himself 
through  him "?  What  an  amazing  penetrating  light  hath 
struck  into  their  hearts  !  as  2  Cor.  iv.  6.  Such  as  when 
he  was  making  the  world,  enlightened  the  chaos.  Such 
as  hath  made  them  see  things  that  concerned  them  as  they 
truly  were,  and  with  their  own  proper  face,  God,  and 
Christ,  and  themselves,  sin  and  duty,  heaven  and  hell,  in 
their  own  true  appearances !  How  effectually  they  have 
been  awakened !  how  the  terrors  of  the  Almighty  have 
beset  and  seized  their  souls !  what  agonies  and  pangs 
they  have  felt  in  themselves,  when  the  voice  of  God  hath 
said  to  them,  Awake,  thou  that  sleepest,  and  arise  from 
the  dead,  and  Christ  shall  give  thee  light!  Eph.  v.  14. 
How  he  hath  brought  them  down  at  his  feet,  thrown  them 
into  the  dust,  broken  them,  melted  them,  made  them  abase 
themselves,  loathe  and  abhor  themselves,  filled  them  with 
sorrow,  shame,  confusion,  and  with  indignation  towards 
their  own  guilty  souls,  habituated  them  to  a  severity 
against  themselves,  unto  the  most  sharp,  and  yet  most 
unforced  self-accusations,  self-judging,  and  self-condemna- 
tion ;  so  as  even  to  make  them  lay  claim  to  hell,  and 
confess  the  portion  of  devils  belonged  to  them,  as  their 
own  most  deserved  portion.  And  if  now  their  eyes  have 
been  directed  towards  a  Redeemer,  and  any  glimmering  of 
hope  hath  appeared  to  them ;  if  now  they  are  taught  to 
understand  God  saying  to  them,  Sinner,  art  thou  yet 
willing  to  be  reconciled,  and  accept  a  Saviour  1  O  the 
transport  into  which  it  puts  them !  this  is  life  from  the 
dead  !  What,  is  there  hope  for  such  a  lost  wretch  as  I? 
How  tasteful  now  is  that  melting  invitation!  how  pleasant 
an  intimation  dolh  it  carry  with  it !  Come  unto  me  all  ye 
that  are  weary  and  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest, 
&c.  If  the  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth  do  now  look  down 
from  the  throne  of  glory,  and  say,  "  What !  sinner,  wilt 
thou  despise  my  favour  and  pardon,  my  Son,  thy  mighty 
merciful  Redeemer,  my  grace  and  Spirit  still? — What  can 
be  the  return  of  the  poor  abashed  wretch,  overawed  by 
the  glory  of  the  Divine  Majesty,  stimg  with  compunction, 
overcome  with  the  intimation  of  kindness  and  lovel  I 
have  heard  of  thee,  O  God,  by  the  hearing  of  the  ear,  now 
mine  eye  seeth  thee;  wherefore  I  abhor  myself,  and  repent 
in  dust  and  ashes.  So  inwardly  is  the  truth  of  that  word 
now  felt.  That  thou  mayest  remember  and  be  confounded, 
and  never  open  thy  mouth  any  more  because  of  thy  shame, 
when  I  am  pacified  towards  thee,  for  all  that  thou  hast 
done,  saith  the  Lord  God,  Ezek.  xvi.  63.  But,  sinner, 
wilt  thou  make  a  covenant  with  me  and  my  Christ  1  wilt 
thou  take  me  for  thy  God,  and  him  for  thy  Redeemer  and 
Lord?  And  may  I,  Lord?  yet,  may  I?  O  admirable 
grace !  wonderful  sparing  mercy  !  that  I  was  not  thrown 
into  hell  at  my  first  refusal !  Yea,  Lord,  with  all  my  heart 
and  soul.  I  renounce  the  vanities  of  an  empty  cheating 
world,  and  all  the  pleasures  of  sin.  In  thy  favour  stands 
my  life.  Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but  thee  ?  whom  on 
earth  do  I  desire  besides  thee?  And  O,  thou  blessed 
Jesus,  thou  Prince  of  the  kings  of  the  earth,  who  ha^st 
loved  me,  and  washed  me  from  my  sins  in  thy  blood,  and 
whom  the  eternal  God  hath  exalted  to  be  a  Prince  and  a 
Saviour,  to  give  repentance  and  remission  of  sins,  I  fall 
before  thee,  my  Lord  and  my  God ;  I  here  willingly  ten- 
der my  homage  at  the  footstool  of  thy  throne.  I  take  thee 
for  the  Lord  of  my  life.  I  absolutely  surrender  and  resign 
myself  to  thee.  Thy  love  constrains  me  henceforth  no 
more  to  live  to  myself,  but  to  thee  who  diedst  for  me,  and 
didst  rise  again.  And  I  subject  and  yield  mvself  to  thy 
blessed  light  and  power,  O  Holy  Spirit  of  grace,  to  be 
more  and  more  illuminated,  sanctified,  and  prepared  for 
every  good  word  and  work  in  this  world,  and  for  an  inhe- 
ritance among  them  that  are  sanctified  in  the  other.  Sin- 
ner, never  give  thy  soul  leave  to  be  at  rest  till  thou  find  it 
brought  to  some  such  transaction  with  God  (the   Father, 


Son,  and  Spirit)  as  this  ;  so  as  that  thou  canst  truly  say, 
and  dost  feel  thy  heart  is  in  it.  Be  not  weary  or  impatient 
of  waiting  and  striving,  till  thou  canst  say,  this  is  now  the 
very  sense  of  thy  soul.  Such  things  have  been  done  in 
the  world;  (but  O  how  seldom  of  latter  days!)  so  God 
hath  wrought  with  men  to  save  them  from  going  down  to 
the  pit,  having  found  a  ransom  for  them.  And  why  may 
he  not  yet  be  expected  to  do  so  ?  He  hath  smitten  rocks 
ere  now,  and  made  the  waters  gush  out;  nor  is  his  hand 
shortened  nor  his  ear  hea\'j'.  Thy  danger  is  not,  sinner, 
that  he  will  be  inexorable,  but  lest  thou  shouldst.  He 
will  be  entreated,  if  thou  wouldst  be  prevailed  with  to 
entreat  his  favour  with  thy  whole  heart. 

And  that  thou  mayst,  and  not  throw  away  thy  soul, 
and  so  great  a  hope,  through  mere  sloth,  and  loathness  to 
be  at  .some  pains  for  thy  life  ;  let  the  text,  which  hath  been 
thy  directory  about  the  things  that  belong  to  th)'^  peace, 
be  also  thy  motive,  as  it  gives  thee  to  behold  the  Son  of 
God  weeping  over  such  as  would  not  know  those  things. 
Shall  not  the  Redeemer's  tears  move  thee  ?  O  hard  heart ! 
Consider  what  these  tears  import  to  this  purpose. 

1.  They  signify  the  real  depth  and  greatness  of  the  mi- 
sery into  which  thou  art  falling.  They  drop  from  an  intel- 
lectual and  most  coii^prehensive  eye,  that  sees  far,  and 
pierces  deep  into  things,  hath  a  wide  and  large  prospect; 
takes  the  comfort  of  that  forlorn  state  into  which  unrecon- 
cileable  sinners  are  hastening,  in  all  the  horror  of  it.  The 
Son  of  God  did  not  weep  vain  and  causeless  tears,  or  for 
a  light  matter;  nor  did  he  for  himself  either  spend  his 
own,  or  desire  the  profusion  of  others'  tears.  Weep  not 
for  me,  O  tiaughlers  of  Jerusalem,  &c.  He  knows  the 
value  of  souls,  the  weight  of  guilt,  and  how  low  it  will 
press  and  sink  them ;  the  severity  of  God's  justice,  and 
the  power  of  his  anger,  and  what  the  fearful  effects  of  them 
will  be,  when  they  finally  fall.  If  thou  understandest  not 
these  things  thyself,  believe  him  that  did,  at  least  believe 
his  tears. 

2.  They  signify  the  sincerity  of  his  love  and  pity,  the 
truth  and  tenderness  of  his  compassion.  Canst  thou  think 
his  deceitful  tears  ?  his,  who  never  knew  guile?  was  this 
like  the  rest  of  his  course  ?  And  remember  that  he  who 
shed  tears,  did,  from  the  same  fountain  of  love  and  mercy, 
shed  blood  too !  Was  that  also  done  to  deceive  ?  Thou 
makest  thyself  some  ve.ry  considerable  thing  indeed,  if 
thou  thinkest  the  Son  of  God  counted  it  worth  his  while 
to  w^eep,  and  bleed,  and  die,  to  deceive  thee  into  a  false 
esteem  of  him  and  his  love.  But  if  it  be  the  greatest 
madness  imaginable  to  entertain  any  such  thought,  but 
that  his  tears  were  sincere  and  inartificial,  the  natural 
genuine  expressions  of  undissembled  benignity  and  pity, 
thou  art  then  to  consider  what  love  and  compassion  thou 
art  now  sinning  agains;, ;  what  bowels  thon  spurnest ;  and 
that  if  thou  perishest,  'tis  rmder  such  guilt  as  the  devils 
themselves  are  not  liable  to,  who  never  had  a  Redeemer 
bleeding  for  them,  nor,  that  we  ever  find,  weeping  over 
them. 

3.  They  show  the  remedilessness  of  thy  case,  if  thou 
persist  in  impenitency  and  unbelief  till  the  things  of  thy 
peace  be  quite  hid  from  thine  eyes.  These  tears  will  then 
be  the  last  issues  of  (even  defeated)  love,  of  love  that  is 
frustrated  of  its  kind  design.  Thou  mayest  perceive  in 
these  tears  the  steady  unaherable  laws  of  Heaven,  the  in- 
flexibleness  of  the  Divine  justice,  that  holds  thee  in  ada- 
mantine bonds,  and  hath  sealed  thee  up,  if  thou  prove 
incurably  obstinate  and  impenitent,  unto  perdition;  so  that 
even  the  Redeemer  himself,  he  that  is  mighty  to  save,  can- 
not at  length  save  thee,  but  only  weep  over  thee,  drop 
tears  into  thy  flame,  which  assuage  it  not ;  but  (though 
they  have  another  design,  even  to  express  true  compassion) 
do  yet  unavoidably  heighten  and  increase  the  fervour  of  it, 
and  will  do  so  to  all  eternity.  He  even  tells  thee,  sinner, 
"  Thou  hast  despised  my  blood,  thou  shalt  yet  have  my 
tears."  That  would  have  saved  thee,  these  do  only  lament 
thee  lost. 

But  the  tears  wept  over  others,  as  lost  and  past  hope, 
why  should  they  not  yet  melt  thee,  while  as  yet  there  is 
hope  in  thy  case  ?  If  thou  be  efiectually  melted  in  thy  very 
soul,  and  looking  to  him  whom  thou  hast  pierced,  dost 
truly  mourn  over  him,  thou  mayst  a.ssure  ihvself  the  pros- 
pect his  weeping  eye  had   of  lost  souls,  did  not  include 


WEPT  OVER  LOST  SOULS. 


453 


thee.  His  weeping  over  thee  would  argue  thy  case  for- 
lorn and  hopeless:  thy  mourning  over  him  will  make 
it  safe  and  happy.  That  it  may  be  so,  consider  further, 
that, 

4.  They  signify  how  very  intent  he  is  to  save  souls,  and 
how  gladly  he  would  save  thine,  if  yet  thou  wilt  accept  of 
mercy  while  it  may  be  had.  For  if  he  weep  over  them 
that  will  not  be  saved,  from  the  same  love  that  is  the  spring 
of  these  tears,  would  saving  mercies  proceed  to  those  that 


are  become  willing  to  receive  them.  And  that  love  that 
wept  over  them  that  were  lost,  how  will  it  glory  in  ihein 
that  are  saved  !  There  his  love  is  disappointed  and  vexed, 
crossed  in  its  gracious  intendment ;  but  here  having  com- 
passed it,  how  will  he  joy  over  thee  with  singing,  and  rest 
in  his  love  !  And  thou  also,  instead  of  being  involved  in  a 
like  ruin  with  the  unreconciled  sinners  of  the  old  Jeru- 
salem, shalt  be  enrolled  among  the  glorious  citizens  of  the 
new,  and  triumph  together  with  them  in  eternal  glory. 


APPENDIX. 


Because  some  things,  not  fit  to  be  wholly  omitted,  were 
as  little  fit  to  come  into  the  body  of  a  practical  discourse, 
'twas  thought  requisite  to  subjoin  here  the  following  addi- 
tions, that  will  severally  have  reference  to  distinct  parts  of 
the  foregoing  discourse. 

As  to  what  was  said  of  the  unreasonableness  and  ill 
consequence  of  admitting  it — to  be  any  man's  duty  to  be- 
lieve himself  utterly  rejected,  and  forsaken  of  God,  inas- 
much as  it  would  make  that  his  duty  which  were  repug- 
nant to  his  felicity: — this  is  to  be  evinced  by  a  considera- 
tion, which  also,  even  apart  by  itself,  were  not  without  its 
own  great  weight,  viz.  that  such  a  belief  were  inconsistent 
with  his  former  stated  and  known  duty  ;  it  were  therefore 
inconsistent  with  his  felicity,  inasmuch  as  it  would  make 
that  duty  impossible  to  be  performed,  which  before,  was 
by  constitution  of  the  evangelical  law,  made  necessary  to 
it,  vi2.  repentance  towards  God,  and  faith  in  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ.  The  hope  of  acceptance  is  so  necessary  to 
both  these,  that  the  belief  of  a  man's  being  finally  rejected,  or 
that  he  shall  never  be  accepted,  cannot  but  make  them  both 
impossible,  equally  impossible  as  if  he  were  actually  in 
hell,  as  much  impossible  to  him  as  to  the  devils  themselves. 
Nor  is  this  impossibility  merely  from  a  moral  impotency, 
or  that  obduration  of  heart  which  were  confessedly  vicious, 
and  his  great  sin,  but  from  the  natural  influence  of  that 
belief  of  his  being  for  ever  rejected,  which  (upon  the  men- 
tioned supposition)  were  his  duty.  Besides,  inasmuch  as 
it  is  the  known  duty  of  a  sinner  under  the  Gospel,  to  turn 
to  God  through  Christ,  and  it  is  also  declared  in  the  same 
Gospel  (sufficiently  to  make  it  the  common  matter  of  faith 
to  Christians)  that  none  can  of  themselves  turn  to  God, 
and  believe  in  his  Son,  without  the  help  of  special  effi- 
cacious grace  ;  it  must  hereupon  be  a  man's  duty  also  to 
pray  for  that  grace  which  may  enable  him  hereto.  How 
deep  in  wickedness  was  Sim(m  Magus,  even  in  the  gall  of 
bitterness,  and  bond  of  iniquity,  when  yet  Peter  calls  him 
to  repentance,  and  puts  him  upon  praying  for  forgiveness ; 
(which  must  imply  also  his  praying  for  the  grace  to  re- 
pent ;)  but  how  can  a  man  pray  for  that,  which,  at  the 
same  time,  he  believes  shall  not  be  given  him  1  yea,  and 
which  is  harder,  and  more  unaccountable,  how  can  he 
stand  obliged  in  duty,  to  pray  for  that  which  at  the  same 
time,  he  stands  obliged  in  duty  to  believe  he  shall  not 
obtain  1  How  can  these  two  contrary  obligations  lie  upon 
a  man  at  the  same  time  1  or  is  he  to  look  upon  the  former 
as  ceased  1  should  he  reckon  the  Gospel  as  to  him  re- 
pealed 1  or  his  iinpenitency  and  infidelity,  even  when  they 
are  at  the  highest,  no  sins'! 

I  know  'lis  obvious  to  object,  as  to  all  this,  the  case  of 
the  unpardonable  blasphemy  against  the  Holy  Ghost ; 
which  will  be  supposed  to  be  stated  and  determined  in 
the  sacred  Scriptures;  and  being  so,  the  person  that  hath 
committed  it,  may  equally  be  thought  obliged  (by  a  mixed 
assent,  partly  of  faith  to  what  is  written,  partly  of  self- 
knowledge,  which  he  ought  to  have  of  his  ov>'n  ads  and 
state)  to  conclude  himself  guilty  of  it;  whereupon  all  the 
former  inconvenience  and  ditficully  will  be  liable  to  be 
urged  as  above.  But  even  as  to  this  also,  I  see  not  but  it 
may  fitly  enough  be  said,  that  though  the  general  nature 
33 


of  that  sin  be  slated,  and  .sufficiently  determined  m  thcsi, 
yet  that  God  hath  not  left  it  determinable  in  hypothesi,  by 
any  particular  person,  that  he  hath  committed  it.  For  ad- 
mit that  it  generally  lies  in  imputing  to  the  devil  those 
works  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  by  which  the  truth  of  Christi- 
anity was  to  be  demonstrated,  I  yet  see  not  how  any  man 
can  apply  this  to  his  own  particular  case,  so  a-s  justl)'  and 
certainly  to  conclude  himself  guilty  of  it.  I  take  it  for 
granted  none  will  ever  take  the  notion  of  blasphem)'  in 
that  strictness,  but  that  a  man  may  possibly  be  guilty  of 
this  sin  as  well  in  thought  as  by  speech.  I  also  doubt  not 
but  it  will  be  acknowledged  on  all  hands,  that  prejudice 
and  malice  against  Christianity  must  have  a  great  ingre- 
diency  into  this  sin  ;  not  such  malice  as  whereby,  knowing 
it  to  be  the  true  religion,  a  man  hates  and  detests  it  as  such 
(which  would  suppose  these  Pharisees,  whom  our  Saviour 
charges  with  it,  or  cautions  against  it,  to  have  been,  at  that 
time,  in  their  judgments  and  consciences.  Christians  )  but 
such  malignity,  and  strong  prejudice,  as  darkens  and  ob- 
structs his  mind,  that  he  judges  it  not  to  be  true,  against 
the  hisfhest  evidence  of  its  being.  It  will  also  be  acknow- 
ledged that  some  enmity  and  disaffection  to  true  religion 
is  common  to  all  men ;  more  especially  in  their  imregen- 
eracy,  and  unconverted  state. 

Now  let  it  be  supposed  that  some  person  or  other,  of  a 
very  unwarrantably  sceptical  genius,  had  opportunity  to 
know  certainly  the  matter  of  fact,  touching  the  miraculous 
works  wrought  by  our  Saviour,  and  understood  withal 
somewhat  generally  of  the  doctrine  which  he  taught ;  and 
that  he  sets  himself  as  a  philosopher,  to  consider  the  case. 
Suppose  that,  partly  through  prejudice  against  the  holy 
design  of  Christianity,  whereof  there  is  some  degree  in  all ; 
andpartly  through  shortness  of  discourse,  not  having  tho- 
roughly considered  the  matter;  he  thinks  it  possible  that 
some  demon  or  other,  with  design,  under  a  specious  pre- 
tence, to  impose  upon  or  amuse  the  credulous  -viilgar,  may 
have  done  all  those  strange  things;  suppose  his  judgment 
should  for  the  present  more  incline  this  way :  what  if, 
thinking  this  to  he  the  case  in  the  instance  of  Apollonius 
Tyanaeus,  he  hath  not  yet,  upon  a  slighter  view,  discerned 
enough  to  distinguish  them,  but  thinks  alike  of  both  cases: 
yea,  and  suppose  he  have  spoken  his  sentiments  to  some 
or  other:  perhaps  upon  further  inquiry  and  search,  he 
might  see  cause  to  alter  his  judgment ;  and  now,  setting 
himself  to  inquire  more  narrowly,  he  perceives  the  unex- 
ceptionable excellent  scope  and  iendency  of  our  Saviour's 
doctrine  and  precepts,  considers  the  simplicity  and  purit}' 
of  his  life,  contemplates  further  the  awful  greatness  of  his 
mighty  works  ;  but  amidst  these  his  deliberations,  he  finds 
among  the  rest  of  Christian  constitutions  this  severe  one, 
Matt/xii.  31,  3-2.  and  begins  to  fear  lest,  supposing  the 

'  truth  of  this  excellent  religion,  he  have  precluded  himself 
of  all  the  advantages  of  it  bv  that  former  judgment  of  his. 
What  is  he  to  do  in  this  case  1  what  were  he  lobe  advised 
unto  1.  What,  to  pass  judgment  upon  himself  and  his  ca.'^e, 
as  desperate  1  or  not  rather  to  humble  himself  before  the 
God  of  heaven,  ask  pardon  for  his  injurious  r-ash  judg- 
ment, ami  supplicate  for  mercv,  and  for  further  illumina- 

',  lion,  in  the  mystery  of  God,  of"  the  Father,  and  of  Christ  1 


454 


APPENDIX. 


Which  course,  that  it  may  have  a  blessed  issue  with  him, 
who  dare  venture  to  deny  or  doubt  i  And  what  have  we 
to  say  hereupon,  but  that  in  great  wisdom  and  mercy,  our 
Saviour  hath  only  toM  us  there  is  such  a  sin,  and  what  the 
general  nature  ol'  it  is,  or  whereabouts  it  lies,  but  the  judg- 
meBt  of  parti'iular  cases  wherein,  or  of  the  very  pitch  and 
degree  of  malignity  wherewith,  it  is  committed,  he  hath 
reserved  to  himself;  intending  further  to  strive  with  per- 
sons by  his  Spirit,  while  he  judges  them  yet  within  the 
reach  of  mercy,  or  withhold  it,  when  he  sees  any  to  have 
arrived  to  that  culminating  pitch  of  malignity,  and  ob- 
stinacy, wherein  he  shall  judge  this  sin  specially  to  con- 
sist 1  And  what  inconvenience  is  it  to  suppose  he  hath 
left  this  matter,  touching  the  degree,  humanly  imdeter- 
minable  *?  The  knowledge  of  it  can  do  them  who  have  com- 
mitted it  no  good :  and  probably  they  have  by  it  so  blinded 
and  stupified  their  own  souls,  as  to  have  made  themselves 
very  little  capable  of  apprehending  that  they  have  com- 
mitted it,  or  of  considering  whether  they  have  or  no.  But 
they  are  sunk  into  a  deep  abyss  of  darkness  and  death,  so 
as  that  such  knowledge  may  be  as  little  possible,  as  it  would 
be  useful  to  them.  All  their  faculties  of  intellection,  con- 
sideration, and  self-refiection,  being  (as  to  any  such  exer- 
cise) bound  up  in  a  stupifying  dead  sleep. 

And  to  Avhat  purpose  should  they  have  a  rule  by  which 
to  determine  a  case,  who — 1.  Can  receive  no  benefit  by 
the  determination,  and — 2.  Who  are  supposed  when  they 
use  it,  to  have  no  faculty  sufficiently  apt  to  make  this  sad 
(but  true)  judgment  of  their  case  by  it  1  But  for  them  who 
have  not  committed  it,  and  who  are  consequently  yet  capa- 
ble of  benefit  by  what  should  be  made  known  about  it, 
there  is,  therefore,  enough  made  known  for  their  real  use 
and  benefit.     It  will, 

1.  Be  of  real  use  to  many  such,  to  know  their  danger  of 
running  into  it.  And  it  is  sufficient  to  that  purpose,  that 
they  are  plainly  told  wherein  the  general  nature  of  it  con- 
sists, or  whereabouts  it  lies;  without  showing  them  the 
very  point  that  hath  certain  death  in  it ;  or  letting  them 
know  just  how  near  they  may  approach  it,  without  being 
sure  to  perish,  when  there  is  danger  enough  in  every  step 
they  take  toward  it.  As  if  there  were  some  horrid  desert, 
into  any  part  whereof  no  man  hath  any  business  to  come, 
but  in  some  part  whereof  there  is  a  dreadful  gulf,  whence 
arises  a  c(mtag\o'iiS  halitus,  which,  if  he  come  within  the 
verge  of  it,  will  be  certainly  poisonous  and  mortal  to  him. 
What  need  is  there  that  any  man  should  know  just  how 
near  he  may  come,  without  being  sure  to  die  for  it  1 
He  is  concerned  to  keep  himself  at  a  cautious  awful  dis- 
tance. 

2.  It  may  be  of  gi'eat  use  to  others,  that  are  afflicted 
with  very  torturing  fears  lest  they  have  committed  il,  to 
know  that  they  have  not.  And  they  have  enough  al.so  to 
satisfy  them  in  the  case.  For  their  very  fear  itself,  with 
its  usual  concomitants  in  such  afflicted  minds,  is  an  argu- 
ment to  them  that  they  have  not.  While  they  find  in  them- 
selves any  value  of  Divine  favour,  any  dread  of  his  wrath, 
any  dispcKsition  to  consider  the  state  of  their  .souls,  with 
any  thought  or  design  of  turning  to  God,  and  making  their 
peace ;  they  have  reason  to  conclude  God  hath  hitherto 
kept  them  out  of  that  fearful  gulf;  and  is  yet  in  the  way, 
and  in  treaty  with  them.  For  since  we  are  not  sufficient 
to  think  any  thing  (that  good  is)  of  ourselves,  it  is  much 
more  reasonable  to  ascribe  any  such  thought  or  agitation 
of  .spirit  that  have  this  design  to  him,  than  to  ourselves, 
and  to  account  that  he  is  yef  at  work  with  us,  (at  least  in 
the  way  of  common  grace,)  though  when  our  thoughts 
drive  towards  a  conclusion  against  ourselves,  that  we 
have  committed  that  sin,  and  towards  despair  thereupon, 
we  are  to  apprehend  a  mixture  of  temptation  in  them, 
which  we  are  concerned  earnestly  to  watch  and  pray 
against.  And  yet  even  such  temptation  is  an  argument 
of  such  a  one's  not  having  committed  that  sin.  For  such 
as  the  devil  may  apprehend  more  likely  to  have  committed 
it,  (and  'tis  not  to  be  thought  he  can  be  sure  who  have,)  he 
will  be  less  apt  to  trouble  with  such  thoughts,  not  know- 
ing what  the  issue  of  that  unquietness  may  prove,  and  ap- 
prehending it  may  occasion  their  escaping  quite  out  of  his 
snare.  And  I  do  conceive  this  to  be  a  safer  method,  of 
satisfying  such  as  are  perplexed  with  this  fear  in  our  days, 

ban  to  be  positive  in  stating  that  sin  so.  or  limiting  it  to 


such  circumstances,  as  shall  make  it  impossible  to  be  com- 
mitted in  this  age  of  the  world.  For  let  it  be  seriously 
considered,  whether  it  be  altogether  an  unsupposable  thing, 
that,  with  some  in  our  days,  there  maybe  an  equivalency, 
in  point  of  light  and  evidence  of  the  truth  of  Christianity, 
unto  what  these  Jews  had,  whom  our  Saviour  warns  of 
the  danger  of  this  sin,  at  that  lime  when  he  so  warned 
them ;  his  warning  and  cautioning  them  about  it,  implies 
that  he  judged  them  at  least  in  a  possibility,  at  that  time, 
of  incurring  the  guilt  of  it;  if  the  text  Matt.  xii.  do  not 
also  imply  that  he  reckoned  them,  then,  actually  to  have 
committed  it.  For  it  is  said,  ver.  25.  he  knew  their  thoughts, 
i.  e.  considered  the  temper  of  their  minds,  and  thereupon 
said  to  them  what  follows  concerning  it.  Let  us  con- 
sider wherein  their  advantage  towards  their  bemg  ascer- 
tained of  the  truth  of  the  Christian  religion,  was  greater 
than  we  now  can  have.  It  was  chiefly  in  this  respect  great- 
er, that  they  had  a  nearer  and  more  immediate  know- 
ledge of  the  matter  of  fact,  wherein  that  evidence  which 
our  Saviour  refers  to  did  consist.  A  more  immediate  way 
of  knowing  it  they  had  ;  the  most  immediate  the  persons 
whom  he  warns  (or  charges)  seem  not  to  have  had :  for 
those  Pharisees,  it  is  said,  heard  of  the  cure  of  the  demo- 
niac, not  that  they  saw  it.  They  took  it  upon  the  (no 
doubt  sufficiently  credible)  report  of  others.  Now  let  it  be 
further  considered,  what  we  have  to  balance  this  one 
single  advantage.  We  have,  to  intelligent  considering 
persons,  rationally  sufficient  evidence  of  the  same  matter 
of  fact.  But  how  great  things,  that  have  since  followed, 
have  we  the  sufficiently  certain  knowledge  of  besides,  be- 
yond what  they  had  in  view,  at  that  time.  As  the  won- 
derful death  of  our  Lord,  exactly  according  to  prediction, 
in  many  respects,  together  with  all  the  unforetold  amazing 
circumstances  that  attended  it !  His  more  wonderful  re- 
surrection, upon  which  so  great  a  stress  is  laid  for  demon- 
strating the  truth  of  the  religion  he  taught :  the  destruction 
of  Jerusalem,  as  he  foretold,  and  the  shattered  condition 
of  the  Jewish  nation,  as  was  also  foretold,  ever  since:  the 
strange  success  of  the  Gospel  in  the  first,  and  some  follow- 
ing ages,  by  so  unlikely  means,  against  the  greatest  oppo- 
sition imaginable,  both  of  Jews  and  pagans.  Not  to  insist 
on  the  apostacy  foretold,  in  the  Christian  church,  with 
many  more  things  that  might  be  mentioned.  Let  it  be 
considered  whether  the  want  of  so  immediate  M'ay  of 
knowing  some  of  these  things  be  not  abundantly  compen- 
sated by  the  greatness  of  the  other  things  that  are  however 
sufficiently  known.  And  if  such  as  have  wit  and  leisure 
to  consider  these  things  in  our  days,  are  often  pressed  to 
consider  them,  have  them  frequently  represented,  and  laid 
before  their  eyes,  if  such,  I  say,  have  in  view  as  great 
evidence,  upon  the  whole,  of  the  truth  of  Chri.stianity,  as 
these  Pharisees  had ;  it  is  then  further  to  be  considered, 
whether  it  be  not  possible  that  some  such  may  equal  the 
Jewish  malice,  against  the  holy  design  of  our  religion. 
To  which  I  only  say,  the  Lord  grant  that  none  may.  But 
if  there  be  really  cause  to  apprehend  such  a  danger,  some 
other  way  should  be  thought  of  to  cure  the  trouble  of  some, 
than  by  the  danger  and  (too  probable)  ruin  of  others. 
However,  none  should  themselves  make  their  own  case 
incurable,  by  concluding  that  they  have  sinned  that  sin, 
or  by  believing  they  are,  otherwise  forsaken  and  rejected 
of  God ;  so  as  that  he  will  never  more  assist  their  en- 
deavour to  repent,  and  turn  to  him  through  the  Medi- 
ator. 

If  it  be  inquired  here,  since,  as  hath  been  shown,  some 
may  be  quite  forsaken  of  God,  while  yet  they  live  in  the 
world;  ought  such  to  believe  then  they  are  not  forsaken, 
and  so  believe  an  untruth  that  they  may  make  it  true,  or 
try  if  they  can  better  their  condition  by  itl  I  answer,  nor 
that  neither.  For  that  God  will  further  assist  an  obstinate 
sinner,  that  hath  long  resisted  his  Spirit,  and  despised  his 
mercy,  is  no  matter  of  promise  to  him,  and  so  no  matter  of 
faith.  When  he  doth  conquer,  at  length,  any  .such,  'tis 
of  mere  unpromised  favour  ;  (as  was  al,-o  shown  ;)  where- 
of therefore  he  gives  others  no  ground  to  despair;  and  for 
which  they  are  deeply  concerned,  with  great  earnestness, 
to  supplicate.  But  if  it  be  said,  how  can  they  pray  for 
that  whereof  they  have  no  promise  1  and  can  haveno  faith, 
since  what  is  not  of  faith  is  sin,  Rom.  xiv.  23.  I  answer, 
that  passage  of  Scripture  would,  in  this  case  be  much  mis- 


APPENDIX. 


45b 


applied.  It  speaks  not  of  laiih  concerning  the  certainty  of 
any  event  to  be  expected,  but  the  lawfulness  of  a  work  to 
be  done,  and  of  doubling,  not  concerning  the  event,  but 
my  own  act.  Can  any  man  in  his  wits  doubt  concerning 
his  own  act  in  this  case  1  whether  it  be  better  to  pray  for 
the  grace  of  God  to  save  him,  than  slight  it  and  perish  1 
Nor  are  they  without  very  encouraging  promises  concern- 
ing tlie  event,  that  God  will  be  a  rewarder  of  them  that 
diligenllv  seek  him,  Heb.  xi.  6.  And  that  whosoever  shall 
call  upon  the  name  of  the  Lord  shall  be  saved,  Rom.  x.  13. 
which  promises  'lis  true  the  context  of  both  shows,  do  speak 
of  believing  prayer.  They  are  to  faith,  not  of  it,  and  im- 
port, that  God  will  reward  and  save  the  believer:  not  that 
he  will  give  faith  to  the  obstinate,  contemptuous  unbe- 
liever. If  he  do  this,  'tis  (as  was  said)  of  unpromised 
bounty.  But  though  they  are  not  promises  to  give  faith, 
they  should  induce  it ;  and  incline  sinners  to  cast  them- 
selves down  before  the  throne  of  so  gracious  a  God,  and 
seek  grace  to  help  them  in  their  need,  in  confidence  that 
he  will  never  reject  penitent  believing  prayer.  They,  in- 
deed, that  for  their  former  wilful  sinning  are  utterly  for- 
saken of  God,  will  not  thus  apply  themselves ;  but  our 
question  is  not  what  they  will  do,  but  what  they  should. 
Because  they  would  not,  therefore  they  were  forsaken,  and 
because  they  yet  will  not,  they  are  still  and  finally  for- 
saken. Their  refusal  proceeds  not  from  any  discourage- 
ment God  hath  given  them,  but  from  the  malignity  of  their 
own  hearts.  God  hath  not  repealed  his  Gospel  towards 
them.  The  connexion  continues  firm  between  the  precep- 
tive and  promissory  parts  of  it.  Their  infidelity  is  not  be- 
come their  duty,  but  remains  their  heinous  sin,  and  the 
more  deeply  heinous  by  how  much  their  own  malignity 
holds  them  more  strongly  in  it. 

Unto  what  also  is  discoursed  concerning  anger  and 
grief,  (or  other  passions,)  ascribed  to  God,  it  will  not  be 
unfit  here  to  add,  that  unless  they  be  allowed  to  signify 
real  aversion  of  will,  no  account  is  to  be  given  what  re- 
ality in  him  they  can  signify  at  all.  For  to  say  (what 
some  do  seem  to  satisfy  themselves  with)  that  they  are  to 
be  understood  secundum  cffectum.,  not  secundum  affectum,, 
though  true  as  to  the  negative  part,  is,  as  to  the  aflirma- 
tive,  very  defective  and  short ;  for  the  effects  of  anger  and 
grief,  upon  which  those  names  are  put,  when  spoken  of 
God,  are  not  themselves  in  him,  but  in  us.  But  we  are 
still  at  a  loss  what  they  signify  in  him.  Such  effects  must 
have  some  cause.  And  if  they  be  effects  which  he  works, 
they  must  have  some  cause  in  himself  that  is  before  them, 
and  productive  of  them.  This  account  leaves  us  to  seek 
what  that  cause  is,  that  is  signified  by  these  names.  That 
it  cannot  be  any  passion,  as  the  same  names  are  wont  to 
signify  with  us,  is  out  of  question.  Nor  indeed  do  those 
names  primarily,  and  most  properly,  signify  passion  in 
ourselves.  The  passion  is  consequentl}^  only  -by  reason  of 
that  inferior  nature  in  us,  which  is  susceptible  of  it.  But 
the  aversion  of  our  mind  and  will  is  before  it,  and,  in  an- 
other subject,  very  separable  from  it,  and  possible  to  be 
without  it.  In  the  blessed  God  we  cannot  understand  any 
thing  less  is  signified  than  real  displicency,  at  the  things 
whereat  he  is  said  to  be  angry  or  grieved. 

Our  shallow  reason  fndeed  is  apt  to  suggest  in  these 
matters.  Why  is  not  that  prevented  that  is  so  displeasing  1 
And  it  would  be  said  with  equal  reason  in  reference  to  all 
sin  permitted  to  be  in  the  world,  Why  was  it  not  prevented  1 
And  what  is  to  be  said  to  this  1  Shall  it  be  said  that  sin 
doth  not  displease  God  1  that  he  hath  no  will  against 
sin  ■?  It  is  not  repugnant  to  his  will  1  Yes  ;  it  is  to  his  re- 
vealed will,  to  his  law.  But  is  that  an  untrue  revelation'? 
His  law  is  not  his  will  itself,  but  the  sigiium,  the  discovery 
of  his  will.  Now,  is  it  an  insignificant  sign  1  a  sign  that 
signifies  nothing  1  or  to  which  there  belong  no  correspon- 
dent significatum  7  nothing  that  is  signified  by  it  ?  Is  that 
which  is  signified  (for  sure  no  one  will  say  it  signifies  no- 
thing) his  real  will,  yea  or  no  1  who  can  deny  it  1  That 
will,  then,  (and  a  most  calm,  sedate,  impassionate  will  it 
must  be  understood  to  be,)  sin,  and  consequently  the  con- 
sequent miseries  of  his  creatures,  are  repugnant  unto. 
And  what  will  is  that  1  'Tis  not  a  peremptory  will  con- 
cerning the  event,  for  the  event  falls  out  otherwise  ;  which 
were,  upon  that  supposition,  impossible;  fot  who  lialh  re- 
sisted his  will  1  as  was  truly  intimated  by  the  personated 


questionist,  (Rom.  ix.  19.)  but  impertinently,  when  God's 
will  of  another  (not  a  contrary)  kind,  i.  e.  concerning  an- 
other object,  was  in  the  same  breath  referred  unto,  Why 
doth  he  yet  find  fault  1  'Tis  not  the  will  of  the  event  that 
is  the  measure  of  faultiness;  for  then  there  could  not  have 
been  sin  in  the  world,  nor  consequently  misery,  which 
only,  by  ihe  Creator's  pleasure,  stands  connected  with  it. 
For  nothing  could  fall  oat  against  that  irresistible  will. 
The  objector  then  destroys  his  own  objection,  so  absurdly, 
and  .so  manifestly,  as  not  to  deserve  any  other  reply  than 
that  which  he  meets  with.  Nay,  but  who  art  thou,  (J  man, 
that  replie.st  against  God  1 

And  what  is  the  other  object  about  which  the  Divine 
will  is  also  conversant  ?  Matter  of  duty,  and  what  stands 
in  connexion  with  it,  not  abstractly  and  separately,  but  as. 
it  is  so  connected,  our  felicity.  This  is  objectively  another 
will,  as  we  justly  distinguish  Divine  acts,  that  respect  the 
creature,  by  their  indifierent  objects.  Against  this  will 
falls  out  all  the  sin  and  misery  in  the  world. 

All  this  seems  plain  and  clear,  but  is  not  enough.  For 
it  may  be  further  said.  When  God  wills  this  or  that  to  be 
my  duty,  doth  he  not  will  this  event,  tiz.  my  doing  it  1 
otherwise  wherein  is  his  will  withstood,  or  not  fulfilled,  in 
my  not  doing  it  1  He  willed  this  to  be  my  duty,  and  it  Ls 
so.  I  do  not  nor  can  hinder  it  from  being  so,  yet  I  do  it 
not,  and  that  he  willed  not.  If  all  that  his  will  meant  was 
that  this  should  be  my  dutj',  but  my  doing  it  was  not  in- 
tended ;  his  will  is  entirel)'  accomplished,  it  hath  its  full 
effect,  in  that  such  things  are  constituted,  and  do  remain 
my  duty,  upon  his  signification  of  this  his  will,  my  not 
doing  it  not  being  within  the  compass  of  the  object,  or  the 
thing  willed. 

If  it  be  said,  he  willed  my  doing  it,  i.  e.  that  I  should  do 
it,  not  that  I  shall,  the  same  answer  will  recur,  viz.  that 
his  will  hath  still  its  full  effect,  this  effect  still  remaining, 
that  I  should  do  it,  but  that  I  shall  he  willed  not. 

It  may  be  said,  I  do  plainly  go  against  his  will  however ; 
for  his  will  was  that  I  shonjd  do  so,  or  so,  and  I  do  not 
what  he  willed  I  should.  'Tis  true,  I  go  herein  against  his 
will,  if  he  willed  not  only  my  obligation,  but  my  action,  ac- 
cording to  it.  And  indeed  it  seems  altogether  unrea- 
sonable, and  unintelligible,  that  he  should  will  to  oblige 
me  to  that,  which  he  doth  not  will  me  to  do. 

Therefore  it  seems  out  of  question,  that  the  holy  God 
doth  constantly  and  perpetually,  in  a  true  sense,  will  uni- 
versal obedience,  and  the  consequent  felicit}'  of  all  his 
creatures  capable  thereof;  i.  e.  he  doth  will  it  with  simple 
complacency,  as  what  were  highly  grateful  to  him,  simply 
considered  by  itself.  Who  can  doubt,  but  that  purity, 
holiness,  blessedness,  wheresoever  the}'  were  to  be  beheld 
among  his  creatures,  would  be  a  pleasing  and  delightful 
spectacle  to  him,  being  most  agreeable  to  the  perfect  ex- 
cellency, purity,  and  benignity  of  his  own  nature,  and  that 
their  def^ormit}'  and  misery  must  be  consequently  unpleas- 
ing  %  But  he  doth  not  efficaciously  will  every  thing  that 
he  truly  wills.  He  never  w-illed  the  obedience  of  all  his 
intelligent  creatures  so,  as  efiectually  to  make  them  all 
obe)',  nor  their  happiness,  so  as  to  make  them  all  he 
happy,  as  the  event  shows.  Nothing  can  be  more  certain, 
than  that  he  did  not  so  will  these  things  ;  for  then  nothing 
could  have  fallen  out  to  the  contrary,  as  we  see  much  hath. 
Nor  is  it  at  all  unworthy  the  love  and  goodness  of  his  na^ 
ture  not  so  to  have  willed,  with  that  eflective  will,  the 
universal  fulness,  sinlessness,  and  felicity  of  all  his  intel- 
ligent creatures.  The  Divine  nature  cdlnprehends  all  ex- 
cellencies in  itself,  and  is  not  to  he  limited  to  that  one  only 
of  benignity,  or  an  aptness  to  acts  of  beneficence.  For 
then  it  were  not  infinite,  not  absolutely  perfect,  and  so 
not  divine.  All  the  acts  of  his  will  must  be  consequently 
conform  and  agreeable  to  the  most  perfect  wisdom.  He 
doth  all  things  according  to  the  counsel  of  his  will.  He 
wills,  'lis  true,  the  rectitude  of  our  actions,  and  what 
would  be  consequent  thereto,  but  he  first,  and  more  prin- 
cipally, wills  the  rectitude  of  his  own.  And  not  only  not 
to  do  "an  unrighteous,  but  not  an  inept,  or  unfit  thing.  We 
find  he  did  not  think  it  fit  efficaciously  to  provide  concern- 
ing all  men,  that  they  should  be  made" obedient  and  happy, 
as"  he  hath  concerning  some.  That  in  the  general  he 
makes  a  difference,  is  to  be  attributed  to  his  wisdom,  i.  e. 
his  w^isdom  hath  in  the  general  made  this  determination, 


456 


APPENDIX. 


not  to  deal  with  all  alike,  and  so  we  find  it  ascribed  to  his 
wisdom  that  he  doth  make  a  ditierence :  and  in  what  a 
transport  is  the  holy  apostle  in  the  contemplation  and  cele- 
bration of  it  upon  this  account !  Rom.  xi.  33.  O  the  depth 
of  the  riches  both  of  the  wisdom  and  knowledge  of  God  ! 
how  unsearchable  are  his  judgments,  and  his  ways  past 
finding  out  I  But  now  when,  in  particular,  he  comes  to 
make  this  difference  between  one  person  and  another, 
there  being  no  reason  in  the  object  to  determine  him  this 
way,  more  than  that,  his  designing  some  for  the  objects  of 
special  favour,  and  waving  others,  (as  to  such  special 
favour,)  when  all  were  in  themselves  alike  ;  in  that  case 
wisdom  hath  not  so  proper  an  exercise,  but  it  is  the  work 
of  free,  unobliged  sovereignty  here  to  make  the  choice. 
Having  predestinated  us  unto  the  adoption  of  children,  by 


Jesus  Christ,  to  himself,  according  to  the  good  pleasure  of 
his  will,  Ephes.  i.  5. 

Yet  in  the  mean  time,  while  God  doth  not  efiicaciously 
will  all  men's  obedience  introductive  of  their  happiness, 
doth  it  follow  he  wills  it  not  really  at  all  1  To  say  he  wills 
it  efiicaciously,  were  to  contradict  experience,  and  his  word ; 
to  say  he  wills  it  not  really,  were  equally  to  contradict  his 
word.  He  doth  will  it,  but  not  primarily,  and  as  the  more 
principal  object  of  his  will,  so  as  to  effect  it  notwithstanding 
whatsoever  unfitness  he  apprehends  in  it,i;fz.  thathesoever- 
power  all,  as  to  make  them  obedient  and  happy.  He  really 
wills  it,  but  hath  greater  reasons  than  this  or  that  man's  sal- 
vation, why  he  eflects  it  not.  And  this  argues  no  imperfec- 
tion in  the  Divine  will,  but  the  perfection  of  it,  that  he  wills 
things  agreeably  to  the  reasonableness  and  fitness  of  them. 


THE 

CARNALITY  OF  RELIGIOUS  CONTENTION, 

IN  TWO  SERMONS, 

PREACHED  AT  THE  MERCHANT'S  LECTURE,  IN  BROAD  STREET. 


THE  PREFACE  TO  THE  READERS. 


This  title  nobody  can  think  is  meant  to  condemn  all  contention  about  matters  of  religion  as  carnal ;  but  since  there 
is  too  much  which  is  apparently  so,  it  only  signifies  it  to  be  the  design  of  the  following  discourse  to  show  what  con- 
tention that  is,  and  when,  or  in  what  case,  though  it  hath  religion  for  its  object,  it  may  not  have  it  for  its  principle,  but 
that  very  frequently,  the  lust  of  the  flesh  hides  itself  under  that  specious  name.  And  to  show  wherein,  while  it  affects 
to  hide,  yet  unawares  it  discovers  itself,  in  the  management  of  affairs  of  that  sacred  kind.  Thus  it  often  really  is; 
and  then  is  that  noble  cause  as  ignobly  served,  as  when  (according  to  that  ♦  father's  observation)  a  man  proves  to  be 
unfaithful  even  for  the  faith,  and  sacrilegious  for  religion. 

When  in  one  place  (Jude  3.)  Christians  are  exhorted  to  contend  earnestly  for  the  faith;  and  in  another  (2  Tim.  ii. 
24.)  we  are  told  the  servant  of  the  Lord  must  not  strive;  'tis  plain  there  is  a  contention  for  religion,  which  is  a  duty, 
and  there  is  a  contention  even  concerning  religion  too,  which  is  a  sin.  And  that  sin  the  apostle,  in  this  context,  out  of 
which  our  discourse  arises,  doth  deservedly  expose  by  the  name  of  flesh,  and  of  the  lust,  or  of  the  works  thereof; 
such  as  wrath,  variance,  envy,  hatred,  &c.  Whence  it  is  easy  to  collect  in  what  sense  it  is  said  in  the  mentioned 
place,  the  servant  of  the  Lord  must  not  strive,  viz.  as  that  striving  excludes  the  gentleness,  the  aptness  to  instruct,  and 
the  patience,  which  are  in  the  same  place  enjoined,  where  that  striving  is  forbidden.  And  from  thence  it  is  equally 
easy  to  collect  too,  in  what  sense  we  ought  to  contend  for  the  faith  earnestly,  i.  e.  with  all  that  earnestness  which  will 
consist  with  these,  not  with  such  as  excludes  them  :  as  earnestlj^  as  you  will,  but  with  a  sedate  mind,  full  of  charity, 
candour,  kindness,  and  benignity  towards  them  we  strive  with.  We  ought,  we  see,  (in  the  mentioned  place.)  to  be 
patient  towards  all  men.     Towards  fellow-Christians  there  should  certainly  be  a  more  peculiar  brotherly  kindness. 

The  difference  is  very  great,  and  most  discernible  in  the  effects,  between  the  church's  contention  against  enemies 
without  it,  and  contentions  within  itself  The  former  unite  it  the  more,  increase  its  strength  and  vigour.  The  latter 
divide  and  enfeeble  it.  As  to  those  of  this  latter  kind,  nothing  is  more  evident,  or  deserves  to  be  more  considered, 
than  that  as  the  Christian  church  hath  grown  more  carnal,  it  hath  grown  more  contentious,  and  as  more  contentious, 
still  more  and  more  carnal.  The  savour  hath  been  lost  of  the  great  things  of  the  Gospel,  which  have  less  matter  in 
them  of  dispute  or  doubt,  but  which  only  did  afford  proper  nutriment  to  the  life  of  godliness ;  and  it  hath  diverted  lo 
lesser  things,  (or  invented  such  as  were,  otherwise,  none  at  all,)  about  which  the  contentious,  disputative  genius  might 
employ,  and  wherewith  it  might  entertain,  feed,  and  satiate  itself 

Thereby  hath  it  grown  strong  and  vigorous,  and  acquired  the  power  to  transform  the  church  from  a  spiritual  soci- 
ety, enlivened,  acted,  and  governed  by  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  into  a  mere  carnal  thing,  like  the  rest  of  the  world.  Car- 
nality hath  become,  and  long  been  in  it,  a  governing  principle,  and  hath  torn  it  into  God  knows  how  many  Iragments 
and  parties;  each  of  which  will  now  be  the  church,  enclose  itself  within  its  own  peculiar  limits,  exclusive  of  all  the 
rest,  claim  and  appropriate  to  itself  the  rights  and  privileges  which  belong  lo  the  Christinn  church  in  common,  yea, 
and  even  Christ  himself,  as  if  he  were  to  be  so  enclosed  or  confined  :  and  hence  it  is  said,  Lo,  here  is  Christ,  or  there 
he  is,  till  he  is  scarce  to  be  found  any  where  ;  but  as,  through  merciful  indulgence,  overlooking  oTir  sinful  follies,  he 
is  pleased  to  afford  some  tokens  of  his  presence  both  here  and  there.  Yet  also  how  manifest  are  the  tokens  of  his 
displeasure  and  retirement !  And  how  few  will  apprehend  and  consider  the  true  cause  !  I  will  now  adventure  lo 
offer  these  things  to  serious  consideration. 

1.  Whether  for  any  party  of  Christians  to  make  unto  itself  other  limits  rf  communion  than  Christ  hath  made,  and 
hedge  up  itself  within  those  limits,  excluding  those  whom  Christ  would  i-dmit,  and  admitting  those  whom  he  would 
exclude,  be  not  in  itself  a  real  sin  ?  When  I  say  moJ-e  to  -itself,  this  more  peculiarly  concerns  those  who  firm  their 
own  communions,  having  nothing  herein  imposed  upon  rhem  by  ciWl  authority.  Let  others  censure  themselves  as 
they  see  cause.  They  have  a  holy  table  among  them,  the  symbol  of  their  communion  with  one  another  in  the  LorcL 
I  would  ask,  "  Whose  is  this  table  1  Is  it  the  table  of  this  or  that  man,  or  party  of  men  1  or  is  it  the  Lord's  table  7" 
Then  certainly  it  ought  to  be  free  to  his  guests,  and  appropriate  to  them.  And  who  should  dare  to  invite  others,  or 
forbid  these  1 

2,  If  it  be  a  sin,  is  it  not  a  heinous  one?   This  will  best  be  understood  bj'  considering  what  his  limits  are.  Nothing 

*Cypr.  <k SHni)licit.  PnuL 


458  THE  PREFACE  TO  THE  READERS. 

seems  plainer  than  that  it  was  his  mind,  Christianity  itself  should  measure  the  communion  of  Christians,  as  such  ; 
visible  Christianity  their  visible  communion.  It  will  here  then  be  inquired  (as  in  all  reason  it  should)  what  Christi- 
anity is.  And  if  it  be,  every  one  will  understand  the  inquiry  concerning  that,  as  they  would  concerning  any  thing 
else,  what  is  its  essence  1  or  what  are  its  essentials,  or  wherein  doth  it  consisti  Not  what  are  all  the  several  accidents 
it  may  adnrit  of?  as  you  would  do,  if  it  were  inquired,  What  is  humanity  1  Now  here  it  will  be  readily  acknow- 
ledged that  Christianity  (as  all  things  else  that  are  of  moral  consideration)  must  be  estimated  more  principally  by  its 
end,  and  that  its  final  reference  is  not  to  this  world,  but  to  the  world  to  come,  and  to  a  happy  state  there.  And  that, 
considering  the  miserable  state  wherein  it  finds  the  souls  of  men  here,  and  the  greater  misery  they  are  heieafter  liable 
to,  it  must  design  their  present  recovery,  and  finally,  their  eternal  salvation. 

That  in  order  hereto  it  must  propound  to  men  some  things  necessary  to  be  believed,  some  things  necessary  to  be 
done.  And  that  both  must  intend  the  making  of  them  good  in  order  to  the  making  them  happy,  or  the  saving  of 
them  from  eternal  misery.  That  both  are  sufhciently  propounded  by  the  kind  and  great  Author  of  this  constitution, 
Christ  himself,  in  his  word  or  Gospel.  That  this  Gospel,  besides  many  incidental  things,  expressly  represents  some 
things  as  of  absolute  necessity  to  salvation,  by  which  are  settled  the  very  terms  of  life  and  death,  unto  sinners ;  and 
as  a  principal,  most  comprehensive,  and  most  fundamental  thing  to  all  the  rest,  requires  men's  resigning  and  sub- 
jecting themselves  unto  him  ;  or  putting  themselves  by  solemn  covenant  into  his  hands,  or  under  his  conduct,  to  be 
by  him  brought  to  God,  and  made  finally  happy  in  him. 

Whatsoever  therefore  is  of  absolute  necessity  to  this  end  is  essential  to  Christianity.  Christians  then  are  a  sort  of 
men  tending  to  God  and  blessedness  under  the  conduct  of  Christ,  to  whom  they  have  by  covenant  devoted  themselves, 
and  to  God  in  him.  Visible  Christians  are  such  as  are  in  this  visible  tendency,  with  their  children,  yet  in  minority, 
and  not  capable  of  making  an  understanding  profession  themselves.  Such  as  have  arrived  to  that  "capacity  are  no 
longer  to  be  considered  in  their  parents,  but  apart  by  themselves.  They  that  have  been  sufficiently  instructed  in  the 
principles  of  the  Christian  religion,  that  have  devoted  themselves  to  God  in  Christ,  and  live  in  their  general  course 
conformably  to  his  holy  rules,  are  visibly  personal  covenanters.  'Tis  plainly  the  mind  of  Christ,  that  those  be  re- 
ceived into  that  plenary  communion  which  belongs  to  the  Christian  state ;  and  particularly,  unto  that  sacred  rite 
which  is  the  communion  of  his  body  and  blood,  and  wherein  the  new  testament  or  covenant  hath  its  solemn  obliga- 
tion, and  wherein  3.s  fczdcruti,  or  persons^in  covenant,  they  have  more  express  communion  with  him,  and  one  anotlier. 

They  that  are  yet  unacquainted  with  the  most  necessary  things  of  Christian  religion,  are  to  be  held  as  catechumens 
under  instruction,  if  they  be  willing.  They  that  live  licentiously  in  the  state  of  penitents,  till  they  give  that  proof  of 
their  serious  repentance,  as  that  their  profession  thereof  appear  not  to  be  slight  and  ludicrous  ;  they  that  refuse  to 
learn,  or  be  reformed,  that  live  in  open  hostility  against  the  known  laws  of  Christ ;  are  not  visible  Christians,  are  not  vi- 
sibly in  the  way  of  salvation.  Visible  subjection  and  visible  rebellion  are  inconsistencies.  If  therefore  any  society  of  men, 
professedly  Christians,  do  make  other  limits  of  their  communion;  admitting  those  that  Christ's  rule  excludes,  excluding 
them  whom  it  would  admit ;  especially,  if  the  alteration  be,  not  only  by  the  making  those  things  necessary  which  he  hath 
not  revealed  or  enjoined  as  necessary,  but  which  he  hath  not  revealed  or  enjoined  at  all;  and  so  is  not  only  to  add  to 
Christian  religion  taken  at  large,  but  even  to  its  essentials;  this  is  substantially  to  change  the  evangelical  covenant,  to 
make  it  another  thing,  to  break  Christ's  constitution,  and  set  up  another.  If  they  be  little  things  only  that  we  add,  we  mu.st 
know  that  there  is  nihil  minimum  in  religion.  What,  if  as  little  as  they  are,  many  think  them  sinful,  and  are  thereby 
thrown  olT  from  our  communion  1  The  less  they  are,  the  greater  the  sin  to  make  them  necessary,  to  hang  so  great 
things  upon  them,  break  the  church's  peace  and  unity  by  them,  and  of  them  to  make  a  new  Gospel,  new  terms  of  life 
and  death,  a  new  way  to  heaven.  And  is,  as  much  as  in  us  lies,  to  make  things  of  highest  necessity  depend  not  only 
upon  tilings  of  no  necessity,  but  that  are,  in  our  religion,  perfect  nullities,  not  having  anyplace  there  at  all.  And  there- 
upon is,  in  eflect,  to  say.  If  you  will  not  take  Christianity  with  these  additions  of  ours,  you  shall  not  be  Christians,  you 
shall  have  no  Christian  ordinances,  no  Christian  worship;  we  will,  as  far  as  in  us  is,  exclude  you  heaven  itself,  and 
all  means  of  salvation.  And  upon  the  same  ground  upon  which  they  maybe  excluded  one  communion  by  such  arbi- 
trary devised  measures,  they  may  be  excluded  another  also,  and  be  received  no  where.  And  if  their  measures  differ, 
they  all  excliide  one  another;  and  hence,  so  many  churches,  so  many  Christendoms.  If  this  be  sinful,  it  is  a  sin  ci 
the  deepest  die.  Whereas  the  Holy  Scriptures  speak  with  such  severity  as  we  know  they  do,  of  the  altering  of  man's 
landmarks,  what  may  we  think  of  altering  God's?  And  the  sin  is  still  the  greater,  if  the  things  of  highest  necessity 
are  overlooked  in  the  mean  time  as  trifles,  tithing  of  mint  is  stood  upon,  but  judginent,  faith,  mercy,  and  the  love  of 
God  passed  over,  (as  Matt,  xxiii.  23.  Luke  xi.  42.)  infidels  poured  in  upon  the  church  I  wolves  and  bears  under  the 
name  of  sheep,  and  the  lambs  of  Christ  (which  he  requires  to  be  fed)  thrown  out  into  the  wilderness ! 

3.  But  if  we  suppose  it  a  sin,  and  so  heinous  a  one,  how  far  doth  the  guilt  of  it  spread !  How  few  among  the  seve- 
ral sorts  and  parties  of  Christians  are  innocent,  if  the  measures  of  their  several  communions  were  brought  under  just 
and  severe  examination !  How  few  that  lay  their  communions  open  to  visible  Christians  as  such,  excluding  none  of 
whatsoever  denomination,  nor  receiving  any  that  by  Christian  rational  estimate  cannot  be  judged  such  ! 

4.  How  few  that  consider  this  as  the  provoking  cause  of  Christ's  being  so  much  a  stranger  to  the  Christian  church  ! 
And  how  little  is  it  to  be  hoped  we  shall  ever  see  good  days  till  this  wasting  evil  be  redressed !  or  that  our  glorious 
Redeemer,  who  is  head  of  all  things  to  the  church," should  ever  own  it  by  visible  favours,  should  protect,  cherish,  en- 
large It,  or  make  it  spread  in  the  world  !  (and  how  little  it  is  naturally  in  "any  probability  of  doing  so !)  or  that  he  should 
treat  it  as  his,  while  it  is  so  little  itself,  and  so  little  one  !  In  the  present  (most  deplorable)  state  of  things, private  (that 
is,  carnal)  interest  is  the  thing  every  where  designed,  by  one  party,  and  another.  And  by  wishing  the  prosperity  of 
the  church,  or  endeavouring  it,  is  only  meant  seeking  the  prosperity  of  our  own  party.  So  that  there  can  be  no  united 
prayers  nor  joint  endeavous  for  any  truly  common  good  ;  but  what  seems  desirable  to  some,  is  dreaded  and  depre- 
cated by  all  the  rest.  Thus  for  tliirteen  or  fourteen  hundred  years  hath  the  church  been  gradually  growing  a  multi- 
form, mangled,  shattered,  and  most  deformed  tiling  ;  broken  and  parcelled  into  nobody  knows  how  many  several  sorts 
ot  communion.s.  The  measures  whereof  how  strangely  alien  have  they  been  from  those  which  were  genuine  and 
primitive,  i.  e  from  substantial  Christianity,  and  the  things  that  must  concur  to  make  up  that.  Instead  of  sound 
knowledge  of  the  few,  clear,  and  great  things  of  religion,  a  great  many  doubtful  opinions;  the  taking  one  side  in  a 
disputed  point;  the  determination  of  a  logical  question,  understanding, 'or  saying  one  understands,  (whether  we  door 
no,)  a  metaphysical  nicety;  and  sometimes  professing  to  believe  somewhat  that  Scripture  never  said,  or  shows  iteelf 
never  to  have  meant,  and  that  is  most  manifestly  contrary  to  all  reason  and  common  sense.  Instead  of  reverent,  de- 
cent, grave  worship;  affected,  .-^cenical,  ludicrous  formalities,  uncouth  gesticulations,  disgusted  countenances  with  I 
know  not  what  empty  shows  of  a  forced  and  feigned  devotion ;  which  things  also  were  to  serve  in.stead  of  orderly 
unreprovable  conversation,  of  serving  God,  and  of  doing  good  to  other  men;  and  to  expiate  the  crimes  of  a  very 
bad  one,  to  make  amends,  and  atone  for  the  lewdest,  the  most  licentious,  and  most  mischievous  practices. 

in  sum  ;  not  only  are  things  most  alien  from  real  Christianitv  added  to  it,  but  substitiUed  in  the  room  of  it,  and  nre- 
lerred  before  it ;  yea,  and  things  most  destructive  of  it,  indulged  and  magnified  in  opposition  to  it.  This  is  too  gene- 
rally ttie  state  of  the  carnalized  Christian  church.  And  never  were  there  more  fervent  contentions  among  all  sorts, 
whose  notions,  opinions,  modes,  and  forms  are  to  be  preferred 


THE  PREFACE  TO  THE  READERS.  45^1 

The  word  of  God  tells  us  that  to  be  carnally  minded  is  death.  These  contests  seem  therefore  to  express  great  soli- 
citude how  most  neatly  to  adorn  a  carcass,  or  at  best  how  with  greatest  art  and  curiosity  to  trim  and  apparel  gorgeous- 
ly a  languishing  man,  in  the  feared  approaches  of  death,  instead  of  endeavouring  to  save  his  life.  But  if  any  endea- 
vour to  thai  purpose  were  yet  to  be  used,  what  should  it  be  1  That  any  man  should  go  about  to  propose  to  the  Christian 
church,  were  both  presumptuous  and  hopeless.     We  can  only  speak  our  wishes  to  men,  and  offer  them  in  solemn  sup- 

Elications  to  God.  And  it  were  a  happy  omen,  if  good  men  could  once  agree  what,  in  particular,  to  pray  for;  it 
eing  out  of  question  that  such  men  would  not  be  guilty  of  so  much  hypocrisy,  as,  to  their  uttermost,  not  seriously  to 
endeavour,  what  they  durst  adventure  and  thought  it  necessary  to  make  the  subject  of  their  prayers.  And  one  would 
think  it  should  not  be  ditficult  to  men  of  sincere  minds,  upon  serious  consideration  of  the  present  sad  stale  of 
things,  not  onl}-  in  general  to  pray  for  the  true  spiritual  welfare  of  the  Church  of  Christ  in  the  world  ;  but  so  far  to 
be  particular,  as  to  pray  in  order  thereto,  that  it  may  be  more  entirely  one.*  We  are  told.  There  is  one  body,  and 
one  Spirit.  That  the  Spirit  is  but  one,  we  are  sure  is  true  in  fact:  and  so  we  are  that  the  body  animated  by  thai  Spi- 
rit, as  it  is  such,  can  be  but  one  also.  But  the  apostle's  business  in  that  place,  is  not  merely  to  assert  such  a  union,  as 
there  already  was,  but  also  to  persuade  to  such  a  one  as  there  yet  was  not,  i.  e.  that  it  might  be  more  enlire  and  com- 
plete than  hitherto  it  was;  and  that  such  a  unity  might  be  preserved  in  the  bond  of  peace  :  and  this  in  order  to  its 
growth  to  the  measure  of  the  stature  of  a  perfect  man  in  Christ ;  implying  plainly  enough,  that  the  less  it  was  one 
the  less  it  would  grow.  Which  also  is  sufficiently  evident  in  itself.  For  it  is  first  plain  in  the  nature  of  the  tiling, 
that  by  how  much  it  is  more  divided  and  multiform,  it  will  appear  the  less  considerable  in  the  world,  and  so  be  less 
apt  to  attract,  and  draw  in  others.  Yea,  and  its  appearance  and  aspect  will  not  only  be  less  inviting  and  attractive; 
but  it  will  be  offensive,  and  create  prejudices  in  the  minds  of  men  against  Christianity  itself.  Which  appears  the  plain 
meaning  of  that  petition  of  our  blessed  Lord,  when  he  was  leaving  ihe  world,t  That  they  all  might  be  one,  as  th(rtj. 
Father  art  in  me,  and  I  in  thee,  that  they  also  may  be  one  in  us,  that  the  world  may  believe  that  thou  hast  sent  me. 
Implying  manifestly,  that  if  they  did  not  appear  one,  it  would  strongly  tempt  the  world  to  infidelity.  Whereupon  all 
good  men  have  a  mighty  inducement  to  unite  in  this  request;  for  more  entire  visible  oneness  in  the  Christian cJiureh, 
not  only  from  the  example  of  our  Lord  leading  them  in  this  request,  but  from  the  rea.son  also  by  which  he  enforces  it.  that 
otherwise  the  rest  of  the  world  must  be  confirmed  and  obdured  in  their  infidelity.  Who  sees  not  therefore  that  the 
Christian  interest  is  naturally  obstructed  in  its  extensive  growth  by  the  visible  disunion  of  the  Christian  community  1 
for  it  can  scarce  admit  to  be  called  a  society  in  its  present  torn  and  shattered  slate. 

And  again,  its  divisions  being  (as  they  cannot  be  other  than)  criminal,  the  effect  of  indulged  carnality,  and  designed 
to  serve  the  carnal  interests  of  this  or  that  party,  in  opposition  to  the  rest ;  they  hereby  not  only  offend  and  give  scan- 
dal to  the  world,  who  therenpon  discern  nothing  of  peculiar  excellency  in  the  Christian  profes.sion,  when  under  it 
they  see  men  driving  but  such  low  designs,  as  they  themselves  (more  honestly)  do  without  any  such  veil ;  but  they  of- 
fend the  Spirit  of  Christ  too,  who,  thereupon,  in  great  degrees,  withdraws  itself;  not  totally,  which  could  not  consi.st 
with  the  promise,*  I  am  with  you  always,  unto  the  end  of  the  world;  but  unto  such  degrees  as  .shall  testify  displeasure. 
And  hence  is  the  growth  of  the  church  obstructed,  not  only  naturally,  but  penally  too.  Whence  it  is  most  evident, 
that  they  cannot  with  judgment  pray  for  the  spiritual  welfare  of  the  church  of  Christ,  who  pray  not  for  its  union  ;  nor 
with  sincerity,  who  to  their  uttermost,  endeavour  it  not  also.  Nor  can  there  be  true  seriousness,  insomuch,  but  the  con- 
sideration must  ensue,  what  course  is  most  likely  to  serve  so  desirable  an  end.  And  since  necessaiy  things  are  most 
plain,  and  less  liable  to  dispute  and  doubt;  and  it  is  matter  of  fact,  obvious  to  everj"^  observing  eye,  that  the  decepta- 
tions  and  divisions  in  the  Christian  church,  which  are,  and  have  been,  from  age  to  age,  do  for  the  most  part  arise  from  the 
addition  of  unnecessary  things  to  it,  which  belong  not  to  its  constitution ;  and  which  while  some  think  lawful  only, 
and  at  best  but  an  ornament  to  it,  others  think  .sinful  and  a  deformity  ;  it  cannot  hence  but  appear  a  thing  much  to  be 
desired,  and  endeavoured,  that  tliese  occasions  of  offence  and  division  might  cease,  and  be  remove<l.  Which  evea 
they  that  think  such  additions  to  be,  for  the  matter  of  them,  lawful,  might  yet  see  reason  enough  to  desire  and  to  en- 
deavour should  be  taken  awa}' ;  yea,  though  they  apprehend  them  of  some  use;  it  being  so  manifest  that  the  hurt 
which  accrues  by  them  is  unspeakably  more.  And  besides,  one  would  think  it  should  not  be  unapprehensible  to  any 
man  that  allows  himself  the  free  use  of  his  thoughts,  that  though  he  should  continue  of  the  judgment,  that  such  addi- 
tions were  in  the  matter  of  them  lawful,  yet  the  making  them  additional  terms  of  Christian  communion  must  be  high- 
ly sinful,  as  being  the  introduction  of  a  new  Christianity.     Christian  communion  being  of  Christians  as  such. 

But  this  amputation  is,  according  to  the  present  postuie  of  men's  minds  all  the  Christian  world  over,  a  thing  equal- 
ly to  be  desired  and  despaired  of:  as  a  general  union  ilievefore  is,  in  the  meantime.  We  cannot  unite  with  them  who 
insist  upon  terms  of  union  that  w^e  judge  unlawful  in  those  things.  For  those  that  insist  upon  terms  that  we  think  not 
simply  unlawfal,  while  yet  they  are  different,  in  several  Christian  societies;  we  cannot,  therein,  unite  with  any ;  but 
we  must,  for  aught  we  know,  divide  from  as  many.  That  only  which  tlie  present  state  of  things  admits  of,  is,  that  we 
keep  ourselves  united  in  mind  and  spirit  with  all  serious  Christians,  in  the  plain  and  necessary  things  w  herein  they 
all  agree  :  that  we  preserve  in  our  own  spirits  a  resolved  unaddictedness  to  any  party,  in  the  things  wherein  they 
differ  :  that  for  actual  and  local  communion,  (which  we  cannot  have  with  all  the  Christians  in  the  world,  and  can  have 
comparatively  but  with  a  few,)  we  join  with  them  that  come  nearest  us,  i.  e.  that  we  judge  come  nearest  to  our  com- 
mon rule:  that  (as  some  means  hereto)  we  especially  labour  to  centre  in  some  such  scheme  of  doctrinals,  as  for  which 
all  these  profess  to  have  a  common  reverence ;  that  while  our  union  cannot  as  yet  be  so  extensive  as  it  ouglil,  it  may 
be  as  extensive  as  we  can;  that  the  Gospel  be  not  hindered,  and  that  our  ministiy  may  be  the  more  successful  and  pr(?- 
fitable  to  the  promoting  of  the  common  salvation,  among  those  that  attend  upon  it.  Such  schemes  or  collections  of 
doctrines,  reduced  into  an  order,  (a,s  gold  formed  into  a  vessel,  whereas  truth,  as  it  lies  in  the  holy  scriptures,  is  as 
gold  in  the  mass,)  may  be  of  use  (as  they  have  always  been  used  in  the  church  in  all  ages)  more  distinctly  to  inform 
others  concerning  our  sentiments,  (though  the  use  is  less,  thai  after  thorousrh  search  and  inquiiy  they  can  be  of  to 
oneself,)  provided  they  be  avowed  to  be  looked  upon  but  as  a  wctj.sw  m  mcnsiirnia,  reserving  unto  the  Scriptures  the  honour 
of  being  the  only  mensura  mcnsnrans  ;  and  so  that  we  only  own  them  as  agreeable  to  the  Scriptures.  And  again, 
that  we  declare  we  take  them  lobe  agreeable  thereto  in  the  main,  or  for  substance,  without  attributing  a  sacredness  to 
the  very  words  of  a  mere  human  composition ;  which  indeed  we  cannot  atlrD>ute  to  the  Avords  used  in  the  translation 
of  the  Bible  itself.  And  that  for  the  things  we  believe  them  with  a  degree  of  assent  proportionable  to  their  greater  or 
less  evidence.  This,  through  the  blessing  of  God,  such  as  have  used  a  sincere  and  ingenious  freedom  one  with  ano- 
ther, have  found  an  effectual  expedient  to  deliver  their  minds  from  mutual  doubt,  concerning  each  other,  that  because 
of  some  different  modes  of  expressing  llieir  sentiments,  they  held  very  ditlerenl  opinions,  which  they  have  found  to 
be  a  mistake  on  one  hand  and  the  other  ;  and  hav^e  given  and  received  satisfaction,  they  intended  nothing  that  ought  to 
be  reckoned  into  the  account  of  Socinian,  Pelagian,  Popish,  Arminian,  or  antinomian  errors.  That  fraudulent  and  un- 
just way  of  making  the  estimate,  being  justly  exploded,  that  wdiosoever  shall  in  some  things  that  touch  not  the  main 
points  of  difference,  say  as  some  other  of  these  do,  must  therefore  he  of  their  minds  throughout.  Which  rule  of  judg- 
ing would  make  any  Christian  be  taken  for  a  Jew,  a  Mahometan,  or  a  pagan ;  there  being  no  intelligent  Christian,  btu 
must  say  many  things  that  they  do. 

*  Eph.  iv.  4.  t  John  xvii.  21.  .1  Matt,  sxriii.  W. 


460  THE  PREFACE  TO  THE  READERS. 

But  it  is  to  be  hoped  this  engine  of  the  devil's  is  by  the  mercy  of  God  broken,  so  as  that  the  people  shall  be  no  more 
frigh'ird  from  attending  to  the  ministry  of  such  (be  their  denomination  what  it  will)  as  use  apt  and  proper  methods  to 
awaken,  conv^ince,  and  save  souls,  by  being  told  they  are  antinoinians  or  Arminians,  &€.  It  being  upon  inquiry  found, 
that  persons  so  and  so  charged,  by  the  rash  folly  of  some  that  understand  nothing  of  the  diiierence,  besides  the  different 
soimd  of  those  odious  names,  do  really  detest  the  doctrines  imputed  to  them.  And  that  furthermore,  while  we  look 
upon  an  agreement  therein  as  a  sufficient  character  of  one  sound  in  the  faith,  we  do  not  profess  to  reckon  every  one  of 
the  things  therein  contained  (without  distinguishing  their  importance)  necessary  to  that  purpose.  And  do  never  intend 
our  communion  shall  be  limited  by  other  bounds  than  only  an  agreement  in  those  things  for  doctrinals,  which  we  take 
to  be  of  such  importance  and  necessity,  as  without  the  belief  whereof  a  man  cannot  be  a  sincere  Christian.  Which 
certainly  cannot  but  be  a  very  few  less  disputed  things,  among  them  that  profess  to  believe  the  divine  authority  of  the 
Scriptures,  and  that  will  allow  them  to  be  interpreted  according  to  the  ordinary  ways  of  interpreting  other  wi  itings. 
That  for  matters  of  practice  in  the  worship  of  God,  we  be  satisfied,  not  to  be  obliged  to  do  things,  which  we  think  un- 
lawfid  ourselves,  wdthout  entertaining  the  least  surmise,  but  that  many  good  men  may  judge  some  things  lawful  that 
we  do  not,  and  may  practise  accordingly.  That  we  always  keep  ourselves  in  a  prepared  temper  of  spirit  U,  receive 
further  information  about  doubtful  things.  That  we  cherish  in  our  souls  a  universal  sincere  love  to  Christians  as  such ; 
and  to  men  as  men.  That  we  studiously  endeavour  in  our  several  stations  the  doing  the  most  general  good  we  can. 
And  that  our  whole  design  do  terminate  upon  what,  so  far  as  we  can  succeed  in  it,  must  be  acknowledged  by  all  good 
men  to  be  a  real  service  to  the  church  of  Christ,  by  gathering  into  it  as  many  as  we  can,  considering  it  as  made  up  of 
persons  that  with  judgment,  and  in  practice,  own  the  very  substance  of  Christian  religion.  With  such  dispositions  of 
mind  as  these,  we  shall,  in  this  divided  state  of  the  Christian  church,  be  innocent  of  the  sinful  evil  of  its  divisions,  and 
keep,  as  much  as  in  us  is,  the  unity  of  the  Spirit  in  the  bond  of  peace.  And  do  we  yet  entertain  in  our  minds  any 
hope  that  the  Christian  religion  shall  spread,  and  be  more  generally  propagated  through  the  world  1  Or  do  we  desire 
it  should'?  Or  do  we  dread  that  it  should  not,  through  our  default  'I  Let  us  then  look  back  to  the  years  of  ancient 
time,  and  consider  what  it  was  when  it  grew  and  increased  mightily;  when  without  other  advantages  than  its  own 
self-recommending  excellency,  it  every  where  made  its  own  way,  subdued  nations,  proselyted  enemies,  defied  the 
most  fervent  oppositions  and  persecutions  ;  when  the  professors  and  preachers  of  it  triumphed  over  martyrdoms,  the 
fierceness  and  fury  of  wild  beasts  and  flames,  overcame  by  the  blood  of  Jesus,  and  the  word  of  his  testimonv,  not 
loving  their  lives  imto  the  death.  *  When  as  Pliny  writing  to  Trajan  in  favour  of  the  Christians,  intimates  to  him, 
they  were  every  where  so  increased  both  in  cities  and  countries,  that  the  pagan  temples  had  lain  almost  quite  deso- 
late, and  that  there  had  scarce  been  any  to  buy  off  their  sacrifices.  When  (about  a  hundred  years  after)  Terlullian 
representing  in  apology  for  them,  their  peaceableness,  and  how  easy  it  were,  otherwise,  to  them  to  relieve  themselves 
of  their  sufterings,  says  they  were  become  so  numerous  in  the  empire,t  that  if  it  were  possible  to  them  to  withdraw 
them.selves  into  some  remote,  obscure  place,  they  who  were  left  would  even  tremble  at  their  own  solitude.  Christianitv 
was  then  all  life  and  spirit.  The  Christian  church  in  those  days  flourished  in  purity,  power,  and  vigour.  But  when 
for  the  space  of  about  three  hundred  years  together  it  had  enjoyed  the  protection  and  benignity  of  Christian  empe- 
rors;  and  was  hereby  become  wanton,  lost  in  carnality,  not  content  with  itself,  and  its  own  native  comeliness,  but 
affected  to  shine  in  a  borrowed  lustre  and  ornature,  when  (as  harlots  are  wont)  it  began  to  paint,  to  be  fond  of  gay 
attire,  and  devise  things  for  deckings  to  itself  most  alien  from  its  original  state  and  constitution ;  (and  which  after- 
wards became  the  matter  of  bloody  contentions,  and  cruelties:)  when 'it  grew  ambitious  of  secular  pomp,  splendour, 
grandeur,  and  power,  then  was  it  so  far  forsaken  of  God,  and  his  Spirit,  that  within  a  very  few  years  after  Boniface 
the  Third  had  obtained  of  the  emperor  Phocas  the  title  of  universal  bi.shop,  whereby  popish  tyranny  and  superstition 
became  more  fully  regnant  in  the  church,  {i.  c.  within  less  than  twenty  years,)  began  the  senseless  delusion  of  Ma- 
homctanisin  to  spring  up  without  the  church ;  and  assisted  by  the  incredible  accession  of  force  and  arms,  came  at 
length  to  prevail  against  it  (now  gradually  sinking  more  and  more  into  vice  and  ignorance)  unto  that  degree,  that  in 
process  of  time,  what  Christianity  had  gained  from  paganism,  it  lost,  in  a  great  measure,  unto  Mahometanism  ;t  so 
that  in  several  parts  of  Christendom,  where  were  reckoned  thirty  Christians  for  one  pagan,  there  came  to  be  thirty 
Mahometans  for  one  Christian.  And  how  next  to  unchristian  the  Chrisli.an  world  is,  in  the  nearer  countries,  (very 
generally  protestant  as  well  as  popish,)  is  too  well  known  ;  and  in  the  remoter,  divers  writers  inform  us.§ 

Let  it  now  therefore  be  considered  for  how  many  sad  centuries  of  years  Christianity  hath  been  at  an  amazing  stand  ! 
got  no  ground  upon  the  whole,  but  rather  lost  much.  Is  this  the  religion  which  so  early,  by  its  own  native  light  and 
power,  conquered  so  many  nations,  and  which  we  expect  to  be  the  religion  of  the  world!  Who  that  understands 
this,  would  not  with  deepest  concern,  and  anxiety  of  spirit,  inquire  into  the  cause  1  And  what  cause  can  be  so  obvi- 
ous to  our  inquiry,  as  a  luxurious  and  a  contentious  carnality  ;  which  both  go  together,  and  w^hich  have  enfeebled, 
dispirited,  and  lost  its  self-diffusing  life  and  strength  1     What  we  cannot  remedy,  let  us  at  least  see,  and  lament ! 

And  let  us  supplicate  more  earnestly  for  the  effusions  of  that  Holy  Spirit,  which  alone  can  give  remedy  to  our  dis- 
tempers, and  overcome  the  lusts  of  the  flesh,  of  what.soever  kind,  and  restore  Christian  religion  to  itself,  and  make 
the  Christian  name  great  in  the  world.  For  can  it  content  us  that  Christianity  should  appear,  and  be  counted  a  mean, 
a  \vealr,  and  even  a  ludicrous  thing  1  that  the  Son  of  God  should  have  descended,  and  come  down  into  our  world  ! 
have  put  on  man!  have  died  upon  a  cross!  have  ascended  that  he  might  fill  all  things  !  diffuse  spirit,  light,  and  life 
through  the  world  !  have  appointed  prophets,  apostles,  pastors,  and  teachers  for  the  publishing  his  everlasting  Gos- 
pel; and  at  length  leave  men,  even  where  the  Christian  name  and  profession  doth  obtain,  no  better  men  generally 
than  he  found  them?  distinguished  only  from  the  rest  of  the  world,  by  certain  peculiar  notions,  and  by  some  different 
rights  of  worship;  otherwise  as  flagitious,  as  sensual,  as  impious  towards  God,  as  full  of  wrath,  hatred,  malice,  and 
mischievous  design  towards  one  another,  as  any  pagans  or  infidels  ever  were !  and  yet  that  they  should  expect  to  be 
saved,  only  because  they  are  called  Christians  !     What  a  representation  of  Christian  religion  is  this  ! 

And  thus  it  will  be  reckoned  of,  till  it  come  to  be  understood  more  generallv,  and  more  openly  avowed,  that  Chris- 
tianity IS  not  only  a  system  of  doctrines  (and  those  reducible  within  a  little  compass)  but  of  precepts  also,  not  con- 
cerning the  modes  of  worship  only,  but  men's  ordinary  practice ;  and  that  not  only  respect  their  external  actions,  but 
which  are  designed  to  regulate  and  reform  their  minds  and  spirits,  and  do  lay  their  first  obligation  there,  must  subdue 
their  inordinate  appetites  and  passions,  render  them  holy  and  harmless,!!  the  sons  of  God,  shining  as  lights,  holding 
forth  the  word  of  life,  &c.  The  whole  frame  of  the  Christian  institution  being  animated  by  the  Divine  Spirit,  into 
whose  name  we  are  baptized,  (as  well  as  into  that  of  the  Father  and  the  Son,)  and  which  will  be  given  where  he  is 
sought  for,  and  not  affronted. 

Let  this  be  taken  for  Christianity,  and  avowed  to  be  so,  and  seriously  endeavoured  to  be  propagated  as  such,  and  it 
will  not  always  be  put  to  vie  (but  as  upon  equal  terms)  with  Mahometanism,  Judaism,  paganism,  mere  deism,  or  what- 
soever else  shall  exalt  itself  into  acompetition  withit.  And  let  whatsoever  comes  not  within  this  compass,  or  is  not  truly 
and  primitively  Christian,  be  resected  and  cut  off  from  it,  and  so  it  will  appear  an  entire  self-agreeable  thing;  and  the 
Christian  church  be  but  one.     While  it  is  not  so,  it  will  be  the  business  and  design  of  the  most,  only  to  promote  the 

K  riwi-.i^XIf^o  «■.!.;„„  u- f        11-  .1  t  Apol.  contra  Gent.  :  See  in  Brerewood's  Inquiries. 

^  Lu(lol|)hiis  s  ^tliiop  Hiet.  and  iVivers  otlicra.  i|  pi,ji  jj  jj  u 


THE   PREFACE  TO  TFIE  READERS. 


401 


interest  of  this  or  tliat  party.  And  if  their  .sense  were  put  into  plain  words,  this  it  would  be,  "  I  am  fur  m}- church,  or 
the  church  whereof  I  am,  whatever  becomes  of  the  church  of  Christ."  And  so  will  a  zealous  endeavour  for  so  narrow 
an  interest,  as  that  of  a  divided  party,  engage  and  engross  all  the  attention  of  their  minds,  and  their  religion  be  sum- 
med up  in  contention,  and  such  only  as  hath  its  root  in  that  division  which  (on  the  one  side  at  least,  and  in  great  part 
too  probably  on  both  .sides)  chiefly  proceeds  from  mere  carnality.  And  what  is  it  but  religious  contention,  for  the 
most  part,  that  hath  filled  the  Christian  world  with  blood  and  ruins  for  many  by-past  ages'?  Carnal  contention,  under 
this  most  .specious  pretence,  as  being  conversant  about  spiritual  or  religious  concernments,  is  the  thing  animadverted 
on  (though  in  gentler  instances,  as  later  occasions  did  require)  in  the  following  sermons.  It  was  little  imagined  when 
they  were  delivered  from  the  pulpit,  they  should  ever  have  been  made  more  public.  I  have  in  this  publication  of 
them  partly  yielded  to  the  opinion  of  divers,  who  judged  they  might  possibly  be  useful  to  more  than  those  who  heard 
them,  and  to  them  further  upon  review.  But  have  more  complied  with  a  sort  of  necessity  laid  upon  me,  by  being  told 
if  they  were  not  published  by  me,  the  thing  would  be  done  (as  it  could)  fro:n  broken,  mistaken  notes,  without  me. 
My  own  memorials  and  preparations  were  indeed  imperfect  enough,  as  it  cannot  but  be  in  the  case  of  one,  so  often  in 
the  week,  engaged  in  such  work.  I  have,  as  I  could,  by  my  own  recollection,  and  by  such  help  as  I  have  otherwise 
had,  endeavoured  a  full  account  of  what  was  spoken,  and  am  very  confident  nothing  material  is  omitted.  (Some 
ingeminations  or  varied  expressions  of  the  same  thing,  that  are  pardonable,  if  not  useful  to  a  hearer,  but  not  so  grateful 
and  less  needful  to  a  reader,  I  reckon  not  such.)  But  divers  passages  (though  not  distinct  heads)  that  were  intended, 
but  through  want  of  time  omitted,  I  have  inserted  in  the  places  to  which  they  did  belong.  Wherein  nonecan  think 
there  is  any  wrong  done.  I  am  sensible  the  introductive  part  should  have  been  in  some  respects  otherwise  methodized. 
But  I  am  content  to  let  it  go  as  it  is,  though  I  find,  b}-  the  notes  that  were  brought  me,  that  some  things  were  .somewhat 
transposed  (otherwise  than  was  intended)  in  the  delivery,  from  a  memory  not  the  most  faithful. 

If  it  do  any  good,  it  must  be  from  the  supply  of  the  good  Spirit  of  God,  which  I  admonish  all  you  that  read  seriously 
to  seek,  and  ask  from  him,  who  hath  promised,  thereupon,  it  shall  be  given.  The  very  expectation  whereof  will 
prevent  reading  with  a  vain  mind,  or  ill  design,  and  the  consequent  danger  of  receiving  hurt  by  what  you  read. 

Yours  in  our  common  Lord, 

J.  H. 


CARNALITY    OF   RELIGIOUS   CONTENTION 


GAL.  V.  16. 


THIS  I  SAY  THEM,  WAt^K  IN  THE  SPIRIT,  A>fD  YE  SHALL  NOT  TDLFIL  THE  LUST  OF  THE  FLESH. 


The  last  time  I  spake  to  j'ou  frotn  these  words,  having 
largely  opened  before  the  import  of  wnlkuis:  in  the  Spirit, 
I  undertook  to  show  you  how  the  fleih  here  is  to  be  under- 
stood, against  the  lusts  whereof  such  walking  in  the  Spirit 
is  the  prescribed  remedy.  In  the  general  you  have  been 
told,  that  flesh  is  here  to  be  taken  morally,  and  in  that  lati- 
tude, as  to  signify  all  sorts  of  moral  evil,  or  the  general 
depravednessof  our  corrupt  nature;  for  though  sometimes, 
in  the  moral  acceptation,  the  sense  is  limited  (as  hath  for- 
merly been  showed)  to  grosser  sins,  in  contradistinction  to 
more  refined,  as  2  Cor,  vii.  I.  and  1  John  ii.  l(i.  yet  .some- 
times also  it  is  so  far  extended,  as  to  signif}'  all  sins,  as 
Col.  ii.  II.  compared  with  Rom.  vi.  6.  And  in  this  con- 
text it  is  plain  the  apostle  comprehends  sins  of  both  these 
sorts  under  this  one  expression. 

But  what  particular  evils  he  more  especially  intended 
here  to  censure  and  caution  these  Galatian  Christians 
against,  under  this  one  name,  cannot  better  be  understood 
than  by  consulting  this  context  itself;  in  which,  though 
we  cannot  say  we  have  a  fall  enumeration,  we  have  yet 
very  many  in.stances,  of  the  carnalities  against  which  this 
remedy  is  directed.  Some  of  them  more  gross,  (as  we  have 
told  you  they  might  be  disti  guished,)  adultery,  fornication, 
uncleanness,  lasciviousness,  idolatry,  witchcraft,  murder, 
drunkenness,  revellings;  and  some  other  that  may  seem 
more  refined,  not  as  having  les.s,  but  only  a  more  subtle, 
malignity  in  them;  such  as  hatred,  variance,  emulation, 
wrath,  strife,  seditions,  heresies,  envyings,  &c.     It  may 


here  be  thought  strange  that  such  sins  as  these  should  be 
animadverted  upon  in  Christian  churches  (as  this  epistle 
is  inscribed  to  such,  the  churches  of  Galatia,  chap.  i.  2.) 
so  soon  after  the  Go.spel  was  come  among  them,  the 
apostle  himself  thought  it  strange,  for  you  find  him  won- 
dering at  it,  chap.  i.  6.  I  marvel  that  you  are  so  soon  re- 
moved from  him  that  called  you  into  the  grace  of  Christ 
to  another  gospel.  Yea,  and  after  that,  with  the  Gospel, 
they  had  received  the  Spirit  too.  For  'tis  said,  chap.  iii. 
2,  3.  This  only  would  I  learn  of  3'ou,  Received  ye  the 
Spirit  by  the  works  of  the  law,  or  by  the  hearing  of  faith  1 
And  are  you  so  foolish,  having  begun  in  the  Spirit,  do  you 
think  to  be  made  perfect  bv  the  flesh  % 

We  are,  therefore,  to  consider  what  sort  of  persons  and 
doctrines  they  were  tliat  had  corrupted  and  depraved  tho<:e 
churches;  and  whereby  it  will  be  the  more  apprehensible 
by  what  kind  of  insinuations  they  so  far  prevailed  :  and 
we  may  collect,  in  very  great  part,  what  they  were,  from 
divers  passages  of  this  epistle  itself;  and,  indeed,  from 
this  very  context.  Some  would  have  u-;  think  the  persons 
were  of  that  sect  called  gnostics,  from  their  pretended  and 
highly  boasted  knowledge.  We  have  no  evidence  that 
this  sect  was  so  early  known  by  this  name ;  but  it  is  very 
likely  they  were  that  sort  of  men  that  were  al'terwards  so 
called.  The  characters  here  given  them  in  this  and  the 
other  apostolical  epistles,  do  much  agree  with  what  divers 
of  the  more  ancient  Christian  writers,  and  one  pagan  one, 
(Plotinus,)  .say  of  that  sect.     Which  pagan,   an   inter- 


4C2 


THE  CARNALITY  OP  RELIGIOUS  CONTENTION. 


preter,  and  great  admirer  of  his,"  would  fain  have  pass  for 
a  Christian,  because  living  in  a  time  when  the  conlroversj' 
between  Christianity  and  pas^anism  was  at  the  height,  he 
says  nothing  against  Christianity  itself,  but  speaks  very 
much  against  these  pseudo-Christians,  whom,  though  that 
author  mentions  not  by  that  name,  this  his  interpreter  often 
doth  it  for  him,  inserting  "  The  Gnostics"  even  when  he  is 
but  translating  into  the  body  of  the  work  itself. 

But  this  less  concerns  us.  It  is,  however,  out  of  ques- 
tion, that  this  sort  of  men,  very  anciently  called  gnostics, 
did  highly  vaunt  their  great  knowledge.  A  very  tempting 
specious  pretence  !  Though  their  sublimer  notions  (about 
the  ./Eons,  &c.)  were  imaginations  only :  fancy  and  not 
knowledge,  or  yvwo-ij  xpevSwiiviinij  knowledge  misnamed,  or 
falsely  so  called,  (as  we  may  borrow  the  apostle's  expres- 
sion, 1  Tim.  vi.  20.  though  those  inventions  were  later,) 
and  could  only  serve  to  iill  the  minds  of  their  proselytes 
with  wind  and  vanity. 

But  their  doctrines  upon  which  the  apostle  animadverts 
in  this  epistle,  we  may  collect  from  the  manifest  scope  and 
design  of  it ;  and  that  was  to  assert  justification  bij  faith 
without  the  works  of  the  laic,  which  they  greatly  perverted; 
and  sanctification  by  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  or  the  doctrine  of 
the  7ieio  creature,  which  they  even  quite  subverted.  With 
which  false  doctrines  they  conjoined  a  most  impurely 
vicious  life  and  practice;  falling  in  much  with  the  Jews 
in  their  corrupt  doctrines,  and  with  the  pagans  in  their 
licentious  practice.  Which  must  be  equally  tempting  to 
carnal  minds. 

And  this  may  make  it  appear  less  strange,  that  all  these 
sorts  of  carnality  that  are  here  mentioned  in  this  context, 
from  verse  15  to  21,  should,  in  reference  to  the  same 
sort  of  men,  be  so  put  together.  For  it  is  evident  they 
were  partly  a  judaizing  and  partly  a  paganizing  sort  of 
Christians;  as  (for  ends  of  their  own)  they  affected  to  call 
themselves.  They  held  it  lawful  for  Christians  to  join 
with  pagans  in  their  solemnities  of  worship,  which  they 
were  wont  to  celebrate  in  the  temples  of  their  idols.  It  is 
notorious  how  gross  impurities  and  immoralities  were  in 
those  days  incorporated  into  the  paganish  worship;  such 
as  made  it  sufficiently  reasonable  that  idolatry  should 
have  in  conjunction  with  it  fornication  and  adultery,  un- 
cleanness  and  lasciviousness.  And  for  the  addition  of 
witchcraft,  it  was  not  unaccountable,  there  being  also  sor- 
ceries, magical  rites,  and  diabolical  incantations  observed 
to  have  been  intermingled  with  the  sacra  of  the  pagans. 
And  for  which  these  (misnamed)  Christians  might  have 
the  greater  kindness  also,  for  the  sake  of  Simon  Magus, 
the  father  of  their  sect,  by  whom  the  affectation  thereof  was 
transmitted  to  some  of  his  noted  followers,  that  thought  it 
a  glorious  thing  to  vie  with  their  predecessor  in  this  sort 
of  excellency. 

Nor  is  it  alien  from  this  purpose  to  take  notice,  that 
those  diabolical  rites  are  said  to  have  obtained  among  the 
paganish  idolaters,  of  drinking  the  warm  blood  of  their 
sacrifices,  and  of  eating  things  strangled  with  the  blood  in 
them,  upon  the  imagination  that  in  their  so  doing,  they 
did  partake  of  the  very  spirit  of  their  gods  whom  they 
worshipped  ;  and  'tis  not  altogether  unsupposable  that  the 
devil  might,  in  some  unusual  manner,  enter  into  them  at 
those  times,  more  violently  agitating  their  blood  and  other 
humours;  in  the  higher  ferments  whereof,  if  by  the 
directer  influence  of  the  great  enemy  of  mankind,  quarrels 
and  murders  (as  was  not  unlikely)  should  also  sometimes 
ensue,  it  could  not  but  heighten  the  sport  and  triumphs  of 
hell. 

And  that  the  decree  of  the  apostles  and  elders,  Acts  xv. 
might  have  such  a  reference,  prohibiting  these  things  con- 
junctly, idolatry  and  fornication,  and  things  strangled,  and 
blood,  that  they  should  by  no  means  mingle  with  the  pagans 
in  these  horrid  rites,  a  learned  modern  writer  of  our  own 
hath  rendered  very  probable. b  And  hereto  those  vehement 
dehortations  of  the  apostle  must  answerably  be  understood 
to  refer,  1  Cor  x.  11.  remonstrating  to  them,  that  they 
could  not  have  fellowship  with  the  Lord's  table,  and  the 
table  of  devils.  And  I  would  not,  says  he,  that  you  should 
have  fellowship  with  devils.  For  though  he  did  not  judge 
it  unlawful  to  eat  of  the  idolytha,  i.  e.  things  offered  to 


a  IVlarsil.  Picinus. 


1)  Dr.  Spencer  de  Kitilnis  Hebrseorum. 


idols,  being  sold  in  the  sham.bles,  he  yet  most  earnestly 
protests  against  their  presuming  to  mingle  and  partake  in 
the  horrid  diabolical  rites  and  impure  practices  that  were 
wont  to  be  used  at  their  festivals  in  the  idol's  temples. 

All  thoughts  of  being  by  their  Christianity  obliged  and 
enabled  unto  strict  purity  and  holiness  of  heart  and  lite, 
were  out  of  doors  with  these  .seducers,  and  endeavoured  to 
be  extinguished  in  such  as  they  could  work  to  a  compliance 
with  them;  whereof  the  apostle  seemed  deeply  apprehen- 
sive, when  he  .so  earnestly  inculcates,  that  in  Christ  Jesus 
(or  in  the  Christian  state)  neither  circumcision  nor  uncir- 
cumcision  were  of  any  avail,  but  a  new  creature,  and  faith 
working  by  love. 

But  it  must  seem  of  all  things  the  most  unaccountable 
and  incongruous,  that  men  of  so  profligate  sentiments  and 
practices  should  be  for  introducing  a  justification  by  the 
works  of  the  law,  in  opposition  to  that  by  the  faith  of 
Christ.  'Tis  manifest  they  hated  the  holy  design  of  Chris- 
tian religion,  which  they  professed;  and  professed  it,  that 
they  might  have  better  opportunity  to  undermine  it.  Here- 
upon (not  opening  at  once  all  the  arcana  of  their  way) 
they  carry  answerably  to  persons  and  occasions  as  they 
occurred ;  and  as  the  apostle  was  all  things  to  all,  that  he 
might  save  some ;  so  were  they,  that  they  might  pervert 
and  destroy.  To  the  Christian  Jews  one  thing,  to  the 
Christian  Gentiles  another.  In  this  their  doctrine  they  did 
most  plausibly  judaize;  in  their  impure  practices  they 
verged  more  to  paganism.  Pretending  to  Christian  con- 
verts from  among  them,  that  Christ  never  intended  to  tie 
them  to  strict  severities,  or  hold  them  under  an  uneasy 
bondage  ;  whereto  the  apostle  seems  to  refer,  chap.  v.  13. 
Ye  have  been  called  (he  grants)  to  liberty,  but  use  not 
(saith  he)  your  liberty  for  an  occasion  to  the  flesh. 

Thus  we  must  suppose  that  they  differently  applied  them- 
selves to  such  as  they  designed  to  make  their  proselytes, 
endeavouring  to  accommodate  themselves  in  the  one  of 
these  to  one  sort  of  men,  and  to  another  sort  in  the  other. 
In  dealing  with  the  Jewish  Christians  they  not  only  denied 
the  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith,  (opposing  thereto  that 
of  justification  by  the  works  of  the  law,)  but  calumniated 
it  too,  as  if  it  tended  to  infer  a  liberty  to  sin,  and  make 
Christianity  subservient  to  wickedness,  whereof  they  knew 
their  own  to  be  more  guilt)^  A  piece  of  monstrous  impu- 
dence (but  usual  with  men  of  such  foreheads)  to  endea- 
vour the  averting  that  charge  from  themselves,  to  which 
they  were  most  manifestly  liable,  by  first  charging  it  on  the 
innocent. 

Hereto  the  apostle  hath  manifest  reference,  when  ha- 
ving first  asserted  against  them  justification  by  faith  only, 
Gal.  ii.  16.  Knowing  that  a  man  is  not  justified  by  the 
works  of  the  law,  but  by  the  faith  of  Jesus  Christ,  even  wc 
have  believed  in  Jesus  Christ,  that  we  might  be  justified 
by  the  faith  of  Christ,  and  not  by  the  works  of  the  law; 
for  by  the  works  of  the  law  shall  no  flesh  be  justified. 
He  then  vindicates  the  assertion  against  their  imputation, 
that  it  made  Christ  a  patron  to  men's  sins:  If  (saith  he) 
while  we  seek  to  be  justified  by  Christ,  we  ourselves  also 
are  found  sinners,  is  Christ  therefore  the  minister  of  sin  1 
God  forbid.  For  if  I  build  again  the  things  that  I  de- 
stroyed, I  make  myself  a  transgressor.  For  I  through  the 
law  am  dead  to  the  law,  that  I  might  live  unto  God.  I 
am  crucified  with  Christ,  and  am  in  and  with  him  dead 
unto  all  sin,  so  as  not  to  be  under  the  dominion  of  any; 
and  death  never  more  had  dominion  over  him,  when  he 
had  once  died.  And  whereas  they  thus  objecting  against 
the  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith  in  Christ,  that  it  minis- 
tered unto  sin,  or  made  Christ  a  minister  thereunto,  were 
liable  to  have  the  objection  retorted  upon  them,  being  a 
sort  of  men  themselves  so  very  infamously  wicked ;  for 
this  they  had  a  double  salvo,  both  of  which  the  apostle 
doth  industriously  refute.  That  is,  from  the  two  parts 
of  the  law  given  by  Moses,  and  the  two  sorts  of  the  works 
of  the  law  enjoined  thereby,  that  is,  the  moral  and  ritual 
or  ceremonial  part.  In  reference  to  the  former,  they  fall 
in  with  those  Jewish  conceits  of  the  merit  of  their  good 
works,  done  from  the  principle  of  free  will ;  and  -that  in 
order  to  their  justification,  this  merit  was  to  be  measured 
by  the  preponderation  of  their  good  works  to  their  bad." 

c  Soo  at  large  to  tliis  purpose  Smith's  select  di.^coiirscs  upon  this  subject. 


THE  CARNALITY  OF  RELIGIOUS  CONTENTION. 


4C3 


and  that  it  was  possible  that  one  good  work  in  some  cases 
might  turn  the  scale ;  that  is,  if  they  were  equal  before. 
Now  this  the  apostle  occurs  to,  by  showing  that  ihey  that 
were  under  the  law  were  under  a  curse ;  for  that  if  they 
continued  not  in  all  things  written  in  the  law  to  do  them, 
all  they  did  was  nothing,  as  you  may  see,  chap.  iii.  of  this 
epistle,  ver.  10. 

And  then  as  to  the  ritual  or  ceremonial  part,  because 
their  sacrilices  were  in  great  part  expiatory  of  sin,  and  di- 
vers of  their  other  performances  carried  a  great  show  of 
sanctity  and  piety  in  them;  which  their  expiatory  sacri- 
fices could  only  be,  as  they  were  representative  of  the  one 
propitiation,  and  their  other  observ^ances  were  nothing  to 
their  sanctity,  if  the  thing  they  were  designed  to  signify, 
did  not  accompany  the  sign  ;  they  imagined  they  were  not 
to  signify  its  presence,  but  to  supply  its  absence.  This  no- 
tion did  obtain  even  with  the  stricter  sort  of  them,  the  Pha- 
risees themselves,  who  thereupon  made  very  light  of  the 
weightier  matters  of  the  law,  reckoning  that  though  they 
were  guilty  of  many  immoralities  in  practice,  their  exact 
observance  of  the  rites  and  ceremonies  enjoined  by  Moses, 
would  go  far  to  make  an  amends;  and  that  their  paying 
tithe  of  mint,  annis,  and  cummin,  would  serve  instead  of 
judgment,  faith,  mercy,  and  ihe  love  of  God,  which  they 
are  said  to  pass  over  as  very  light  and  small  matters.  See 
Matt,  xxiii.  23.  compared  with  Luke  xi.  42.  And  herein 
the  apostle  contests  with  these  Galaiian  Christians,  not 
only  with  vehemency,  but  with  some  kind  of  wonder,  that 
when  Gospel  light  had  come  among  them,  and  that  having 
known  God,  or  rather  been  known  of  him,  as  chap.  iv.  9. 
they  should  attribute  any  thing  to  so  beggarly  rudiments  as 
these  were ;  that  is,  being  circumcised,  and  keeping  days, 
and  months,  and  years,  &c.,  the  things  whereon  they  laid 
so  great  stress.  And  because  they  did  so,  he  tells  them  in 
that  4th  chapter,  that  he  was  afraid  that  he  had  bestowed 
labour  in  vain  among  them. 

In  sum,  therefore,  he  makes  it  his  business  to  evidence 
to  them,  that  both  their  justification  and  their  sanctification 
must  be  conjoined  and  arise  together  out  of  one  and  the 
same  root,  Christ  himself,  and  by  faith  in  him  (without  the 
works  of  the  law)  as  that  which  must  vitally  unite  them 
with  him,  and  that  thereby  they  should  become  actually 
interested  in  all  his  fulness  ;  that  fulness  of  righteousness 
which  was  to  be  found  only  in  him,  and  no  where  but  in 
him ;  and  withal,  in  that  fulness  of  spirit  and  life,  and 
holy  influence,  which  also  was  only  in  him ;  so  as  that  the 
soul  being  united  by  this  faith  with  Christ,  must  presentlj' 
die  to  sin  and  live  to  God,  chap.  ii.  19,  20.  And  at  the 
same  time  when  he  delivered  a  man  from  the  law  as  dead 
to  it,  he  became  to  him  a  continual  living  spring  of  all  the 
duty  which  God  did  by  his  holy  rule  require  and  call  for, 
and  render  the  whole  life  of  such  a  man  a  life  of  devoted- 
ness  to  God. 

And  'tis  here  by  the  way  worth  the  while  to  observe  how 
the  apostle  himself  expounds  ihat  phrase  of  being  dead  to 
the  law  bj"^  being  delivered  from  it,  Rom.  vii.  1 — 6.  And 
no  man  can  be  said  to  be  delivered  from  any  thing,  as  ii  is 
a  good  or  an  advantage  to  him,  but  as  it  is  an  evil,  and 
doth  him  hurt.  And  the  law  hurts  no  man  as  a  rule  of 
life.  But  as  to  one  stated  under  the  full  power  of  it,  'tis  a 
bar  against  that  great  blessing  of  the  Spirit,  (chap.  iii.  13, 
14.)  which  by  its  yel  abiding  curse  it  keeps  off  from  him, 
hereby  occasioning  his  continuance  in  sin,  and  then  con- 
demning him  for  it.  Whereupon  how  clear  is  the  current 
of  the  discourse  in  these  words,  riz.  By  the  law  I  am 
dead  to  the  law,  that  I  might  live  to  God  •  I  am  crucified 
with  Christ,  yet  I  live,  q.  d.  The  law  itself  hath  slain  me, 
and  killed  all  my  hopes  and  expectations  from  it :  the 
same  law  that  slew  Christ,  hath  slain  me.  I  am  crucified 
with  him  ;  which  supposes  his  being  in  him  by  that  t'aith 
by  which  he  wa.s  to  live  ever  after.  In  this  faith  stood  his 
marriage  to  Christ,  who  succeeds  into  the  room  of  the  law, 
as  the  case  is  stated,  Rom.  vii.  1 — 3,  &c.  They  that  were 
settled,  in  reference  to  each  other,  in  the  conjugal  state,  as 
the  law  and  the  sinner  were ;  upon  the  death  of  the  one 
(whichsoever  it  be)  the  relation  ceases,  and  so  the  obliga- 
tion which  depended  upon  that  relation.  And  thereupon, 
says  he,  the  law  itself  having  given  me  my  death's  wound, 
and  killed  me  as  to  it,  in  the  article  of  dying,  I  join  my- 
self to  Christ,  and  yield  to  be  crucified  with  him,  but 


therein  acquire  with  him  a  new  life.  Nevertheless  I  live. 
And  how  ?  Not  I,  but  Christ  liveih  in  me;  and  the  life 
that  I  live  in  the  flesh,  is  by  faith  in  the  Son  of  God,  who 
hath  loved  me,  and  given  himself  for  me.  And  this  life 
I  now  thus  live  is  a  life  of  pure  and  absolute  devotedness 
to  God;  terminated  upon  his  intei^est  and  glory,  as  the  end 
of  it,  governed  by  iiis  declared  will,  a.s  the  rule  of  it ;  i.  e. 
in  sum,  'tis  a  holy  life,  or  (as  before)  'tis  a  living  to  God. 
Whereupon  he  so  copiously  distingui.she.s,  chap.  iii.  be- 
tween Jews  and  Jews,  those  that  were  born  after  the  flesh, 
and  those  born  of  the  Spirit,  the  sons  of  the  bond-woman, 
and  of  the  free,  (as  he  allegorically  speaks,)  signifying  the 
latter  only  born  into  this  new  slate  of  life.  By  all  which 
he  shows  the  connexion  to  be  most  necessary  and  inviola- 
ble, between  being  justified  by  faith  in  Christ,  and  a  life 
of  holiness;  so  little  opposite  were  these  to  one  another, 
that  one  and  the  same  faith  was  to  infer  both. 

But  now,  that  the  large  extent  of  this  holiness  of  life 
might  more  fully  appear,  the  apostle  signifies,  that  it 
must  not  only  exclude  those  grosser  lusts  and  works  of 
the  flesh,  but  also  such,  as  because  they  might  seem  some- 
what more  refined,  might  be  reckoned  by  some  less  crimi- 
nal, he  therefore  inserts  divers  of  this  other  kind  also: 
and  the  state  of  the  case  did  equally  require  it.  For  it  ap- 
pears (as  it  might  well  be  supposed)  that  so  far  as  any 
were  tainted  with  the  liaise  notions,  and  with  inclinations 
to  the  impure  practices  before  mentioned,  the}'  were  filled 
with  animosities,  with  wrath,  envyings,  and  hatred  towards 
them  that  had  not  received  the  taint;  and  they  might  have 
too  much  place  with  these  back  again  towards  them. 
Whereupon  there  could  not  but  be  very  great  and  high 
ferments  in  these  churches.  Nothing  therefore  could  be 
more  requisite,  or  seasonable,  than  that  several  instances 
of  this  sort  of  carnality  should  be  put  into  this  catalogue, 
viz.  hatred,  variance,  emulations,  wrath,  strife,  &c.  For 
they  were  not  to  be  thought  (as  was  said)  more  refined,  as 
having  less;  but  a  more  subtle  energy,  or  penetrative 
power  of  malignity  in  them.  Nor  indeed  hath  Christianity 
and  the  Christian  church  suffered  more  by  any  sorts  of 
evils,  than  by  those  of  this  sort.  Others  destroy  particular 
persons;  these,  besides  their  doing  so.  do  more  directly 
hurt  the  community,  and  tend  to  wa.ste  and  destroy  the 
church. 

Now  as  to  those  grosser  carnalities  mentioned  in  this 
context,  I  did  formerly  say  somewhat  briefly,  and  so  I  did 
as  to  that  which  seems  the  central  one  among  those  of  this 
latter  sort,  viz.  that  of  heresy :  which  I  considered  accord- 
ing to  what  it  doth  import  in  itself,  and  did  desisrn  also 
to  consider  it  in  this  its  concomitancy,  viz.  of  the  things 
here  mentioned  in  so  near  conjunction,  and  that  are  of 
nearer  affinity  with  it,  hatred,  envyings,  and  the  like.  I 
have  indeed  been  since  in  some  suspense  whether  I  should 
pursue  that  intention  or  no;  but  upon  serious  considera- 
tion, and  solemn  looking  up  to  heaven  for  direction,  I  have 
determined  not  to  let  this  sort  of  carnality  pa'is  without 
just  animadversion.  For  I  consider  that  I  speak  to  a 
Christian  assembly,  who  must  be  understood  all  to  profess 
equal  and  impartial  reverence  to  the  word  of  God,  as  to  a 
revelation  come  down  from  heaven,  for  our  direction  and 
conduct  thither.  And  therefore  none  dare,  upon  serious 
thoughts,  allow  in  themselves  an)'  kind  of  regret  or  di.'igust 
as  to  so  material  and  important  a  part  of  this  holy  word. 
We  are  assured  the  woids  of  God  will  do  good  to  them 
that  walk  uprightly,  that  is,  to  upright-hearted  ones  :  who 
it  must  therefore  be  supposed  will  walk  or  deal  uprightly 
in  their  attendance  thereunto.  And  I  cannot  but  hope 
that  God  will  graciously  help  us  to  speak  and  hear  with 
that  uprightness  and  integrity  of  heart,  that  this  word  of 
his  may  do  c:ood  to  some,  without  doing  hurt  to  any. 

In  speaking  therefore  to  this  sort  of  carnality,  (for  we 
must  meniion  it  by  such  a  term  as  the  Holy  Ghost  hath 
thought  fit  to  be  put  upon  it,)  I  shall  Jirst  note  to  you 
some  previous  things  more  generally,  and  then  shall,  se- 
amilli/,  let  you  see  what  appearances  there  may  be  of  it  in 
such  a  case  as  the  apostle's  present  discourse  hath  refer- 
ence unto. 

First.  It  will  be  of  use  to  us,  more  generally,  to  note 
these  few  things: 

1.  That  the  several  expressions  of  it  which  we  fmd  in 
this  context,  in  closer  connexion  with  heresy,  as  it  were 


464 


THE  CARNALITY  OF  RELIGIOUS  CONTENTION. 


guarding  it  before  and  behind,  viz.  hatred,  variance,  emu- 
lation, wrath,  strife,  seditions,  envyings,  do  all  note  but 
one  radical  evil,  aJid  do  all  agree  in  one  root.  Where- 
upon it  will  be  the  less  needful  to  insist  upon  them  seve- 
rally, or  to  give  you  the  criticism  of  each  word  by  itself, 
which  it  were  a  great  deal  more  easy  to  do,  than  it  will  be 
useful,  or  of  any  avail  to  us.  What  I  shall  say  therefore 
will  be  more  general ;  but  will  however  give  you  the  occa- 
sion of  casting  your  eye  upon  the  particulars,  whereby  you 
will  have  the  more  distinct  account  of  that  carnality, 
which  is  here  referred  to  by  the  apostle. 

2.  This  is  needful  to  be  noted  too,  that  this  precept  of 
the  apostle,  considered  as  a  prescription  against  fulfilling 
the  lusts  of  the  flesh,  has  more  immediate  and  direct  refer- 
ence to  this  sort  of  carnality.  This  is  plain,  if  you  will 
but  again  peruse  the  words  as  they  lie  in  their  closest  con- 
nexion. For  when  he  had  said  in  the  14th  verse,  That 
all  the  law  is  fulfilled  in  this  one  word,  even  in  this,  Thou 
shalt  love  thy  neighbour  as  thyself,  (most  of  all,  no  doubt, 
one's  Christian  neighbour,)  he  adds.  But  if  you  bite  and 
devour  one  another,  take  heed  ye  be  not  devoured  one  of 
another.  Then  immediately  come  in  the  words  of  the 
text,  This  I  say  then.  Walk  in  the  Spirit,  and  you  shall 
not  fulfil  the  lust  of  the  flesh  :  q.  d.  The  lust  of  the  flesh 
will  be  working  this  way,  putting  you  upon  biting  and  de- 
vouring one  another.  According  as  sentiments  begin  to 
differ,  and  minds  are  divided,  inclinations  will  carry  one 
this  way,  and  another  that ;  and  then  you  will  be  too  prone 
to  be  at  biting,  and  be  ready  to  fall  to  devouring  one  an- 
other. Now  I  have  no  better  remedy  to  prescribe  you 
against  both  than  this.  Walk  in  the  Spirit,  and  you  sha.l 
not  fulfil  the  lust  of  the  flesh.  I  should  have  been  a  very 
unfaithful  interpreter  of  this  context  to  you,  if  I  had  not 
taken  notice  of  this  so  immediate  connexion. 

3.  This  is  further  to  be  noted  that  this  sort  of  carnality 
that  lies  in  strifes,  in  emulations,  in  envyings,  in  haired, 
&c.  may  come  to  have  its  occasion  of  being  exercised,  of 
working,  lusting,  and  exerting  itself  about  the  doctrines  of 
the  Gospel ;  than  which  nothing  is  more  evident,  in  that 
you  find  that  these  things  are  put  in  connexion  with  here- 
sies, which  must  be  understood  to  be  a  corruption  of 
Gospel  doctrine.  Very  true  indeed  it  is,  that  that  word 
heresy,  among  the  more  ancient  philosophers,  was  used  in 
a  more  gentle,  and  no  way  infamous  sense,  signifying  only 
this  or  that  sect  of  philosophers.  But  the  word  coming  to 
be  borrowed  and  transferred  by  sacred  writers  into  the 
Holy  Scriptures,  there  it  is  mostly  taken  in  a  very  ill  sense, 
(though  not  always,)  as  signifying  error  or  corruption  in 
doctrine,  of  a  very  high  and  destructive  nature,  as  Tit.  iii. 
10,  IL  2  Pet.  ii.  1.  For  though  all  heresy  be  error,  or 
carry  error  in  it ;  yet  all  error  is  not  heresy :  that  must 
be  such  error  as  strikes  at  the  root,  and  is  conjunct  with 
heart-disaffection  and  malignity,  (as  was  noted  the  last 
time,)  standing  in  opposition  to  faith,  which  is  not  a  merely 
mental  thing,  but  lies  very  principally  in  the  heart.  Doc- 
trinal matters  are  however  here  referred  unto,  even  in  the 
very  notion  of  heresy,  and  therefore  about  those  matters 
these  carnalities  may  have  place.  For  when  the  several 
passions  here  mentioned  are  raised,  and  do  tumultuate  in 
the  breasts  of  this  and  that  particular  person,  they  soon 
and  easily  spread  and  propagate  themselves  to  others,  so 
as  to  infect  the  community.  And  then  it  comes  to  the 
forming  of  it  into  parties,  or  dividing  it  into  two  sides,  as 
the  word (5ixTao-ta< (which  we  \.xs.ns\aXQ  seditions)  signifies; 
the  one  stated  and  posited  as  in  a  hostile  posture  against 
the  other,  till  at  length  the  matter  arrive  to  that  height  and 
pitch  of  contumacious  and  fixed  obstinacy,  as  in  matters 
so  important  as  the  apostle's  discourse  reflects  upon,  will 
complete  the  notion  of  heresies,  viz.  on  one  side,  at  least ; 
not,  perhaps,  without  great  faultiness  on  the  other,  which 
comes  next  to  be  noted. 

4.  As  such  carnality  may  have  place  and  exercise  about 
Gospel  doctrine,  so  it  is  very  possible  it  may  show  itself 
on  both  sides,  even  on  their  part  who  have  the  truth  with 
them,  as  well  as  on  theirs  who  oppose  it,  and  make  it  their 
business  to  propagate  the  contrary  error  or  false  doctrine. 
The  very  defence  of  truth  itself  may  be  accompanied  with 
such  carnalities,  such  strife,  wrath,  malice,  envy,  as  divides 
the  guilt  between  the  divided  parties,  and  leaves  neither 
Bide  innocent. 


I  am,  you  know,  by  mere  providence,  in  the  series  ana 
tract  of  a  discourse  long  continued  upon  this  context,  led 
to  say  what  I  now  do;  and  1  have  therefore  the  more 
hope,  that  through  the  blessing  of  God,  it  may  be  of  some 
use  to  us.  But  this  comes  most  directly  under  our  notice  ; 
and  let  it  be  noted,  that  whereas  in  such  contests  both 
sides  are  wont  to  be  confident  they  are  in  the  right ;  nei- 
ther the  one  nor  the  other  may  be  over-confident  or  care- 
less of  not  being  in  the  wrong,  in  what  maybe  of  equal  or 
greater  importance  than  the  matters  themselves,  disputed 
among  them  that  agree  in  the  substantials  of  religion,  or 
that  hold  the  head,  can  be.  Let  us,  I  say,  deeply  consider 
it,  that  such  sinful  carnality  may  have  place,  and  exercise 
not  only  about  religious  concernments,  but  even  on  that 
side  where  the  truth  lies ;  which  is  from  hence  evident, 
that  the  apostle  immediately  before  the  text,  as  I  have 
noted,  says.  If  you  bite  and  devour  one  another,  take  heed 
that  ye  be  not  bitten  and  consumed  one  of  another.  A 
great  aptitude  he  therefore  observed  there  was,  to  be  biting 
on  both  sides,  even  where  the  truth  lay,  and  where  it  lay  not. 

For  we  are  here  further  to  observe,  that  whereas  our 
apo.stle  sadly  considered  that  many  among  these  Christians 
of  Galatia  were  lapsed,  and  fallen  from  the  purity  and  sin- 
cerity of  religion  ;  he  apprehended  too,  that  they  who  were 
not  so  fallen,  took  not  the  best  course  for  the  recovery  of 
them  that  were.  Which  that  admonition  of  his  must 
mean,  chap.  vi.  1,  2.  Brethren,  if  a  man  be  overtaken  with 
a  fault,  ye  which  are  spiritual,  restore  such  aone  in  the  spirit 
of  meekness,  considering  thyself,  lest  thou  also  be  tempt- 
ed. Bear  ye  one  another's  burdens,  and  so  fulfil  the  law 
of  Christ.  It  seems  he  reckoned  that  the  sounder  part 
among  them,  and  that  ought  (and  'tis  like  thought  them- 
selves) to  be  more  spiritual,  while  they  showed  not  more 
of  a  spirit  of  meekness  towards  the  lapsed,  were  not  so 
spiritual  as  they  should  be,  and  discovered  more  carnality 
than  became  them,  more  wrath  and  bitterness  of  spirit  than 
could  comport  with  the  law  of  Christ.  They  will  be  little 
awed  by  this,  and  be  apt  for  all  this  to  indulge  their  own 
furious  passions,  that  think  he  hath  no  law.  But  though 
one  were  never  so  sure  he  hath  the  truth  on  his  side,  'tis 
in  itself  a  dreadful  thing,  to  whosoever  shall  allow  him- 
self the  liberty  seriously  to  think  of  it.  For  what  must  we 
conceive  of  such  truth,  that  is  to  be  defended  in  some  cases, 
I  say,  that  in  some  cases  ought  to  be  so  ?  We  must  surely 
conceive  of  it  as  a  divine,  a  sacred  thing,  a  heaven-born 
thing,  a  thing  of  heavenly  descent,  part  of  a  revelation 
immediately  come  forth  from  the  very  bosom  of  God  ;  so  is 
the  whole  Gospel  revelation  to  be  looked  upon.  Now  here 
is  carnality  that  lusts;  such  a  kind  of  carnality  as  the 
context  speaks  of,  wrath,  strife,  hatred,  &c.  Here  is  such 
carnality,  lusting,  actually  lusting,  seeking  prey,  ravening 
for  food.  And  wiiat  doth  it  feed  upon  1  No  meaner  thing 
than  divine  truth !  evangelical  doctrines  !  Monstrous 
thought !  Consider,  I  be.seech  you,  my  friends,  what  this 
comes  to'?  The  feeding  an  impure  lust  upon  sacred  things, 
or  upon  that  which  is  divine  !  I  must  have  my  lust  satis- 
fied, says  the  proud,  contentious  spirit :  wrath  burns, 
anger  boils  :  sacred  things  are  not  spared,  but  fallen  upon, 
as  the  prepared  food  of  lust.  It  will  be  fed,  they  are  not 
forborn.  All  reverence  of  God  is  forgotten,  heaven  is 
ravaged,  the  most  sacred  mysteries  of  God's  own  kingdom 
are  violated,  and  torn  this  way  and  that,  (O  horrid  thing!) 
by  harpies,  vultures,  by  most  fierce  and  furious  lusts. 
And  if  a  man  would  know,  recognise,  take  knowledge  of 
the  most  deeply  inward  sensations  and  intention  of  his 
own  heart,  thus"  it  is,  I  must  now  apply  my  thoughts,  bend 
my  mind,  to  consider  a  revelation  come  from  heaven :  And 
■what,  for  the  end  for  which  it  was  given,  to  enlighten, 
purify,  quicken  my  soul  towards  God,  renew  and  form  it 
for  God,  to  serve  and  enjoy  him  1  no,  but  on  purpose  to 
feed,  to  gratify  a  lust !  We  can  (too  often)  make  neither 
better  nor  worse  of  it,  but  just  so  it  is. 

These  things  being  premised,  I  would  now  go  on  a  little 
more  particularly  to  show  you,  wherein  carnality  may  ap- 
pear exerting  itself,  even  about  such  things;  or  what  will 
be  manifest  indications  of  such  a  carnality,  as  is  here  re- 
ferred unto,  acting  about,  or  in  reference  to,  the  things  of 
God,  the  most  sacred  and  important  truths  and  doctrines 
of  his  Gospel. 

1.   First,  When   in  comparison  of  some  less  things, 


THE  CARNALITY  OF  RELIGIOUS  CONTENTION. 


465 


wherein  we  find  occasions  or  pretence  to  differ,  little  ac- 
count is  made  of  the  incomparably  greater  things,  wherein 
all  serious  Christians  are  agreed,  and  wherein  they  really 
cannot  but  be  agreed.  Let  it  be  considered,  whether 
pains  be  not  taken  to  devise  some  matter  or  other  to  con- 
lend  about;  (that  shows  a  great  disposition ;)  and  then  hav- 
ing found  out  some  minuter  things  about  which  to  differ, 
our  differences,  as  little  as  they  are,  quite  swallow  up  our 
agreements.  The  whole  Gospel  signifies  nothing,  (though 
full  of  the  most  glorious  wonders,)  in  comparison  of  some 
punctilios,  either  that  we  have  invented,  or  that  it  may  be 
doubted  whether  there  be  any  thing  in  them  or  nothing. 
Here  is  some  mystery  in  all  this !  A  lust  is  to  be  gratified  ; 
an  appetite  to  contend.  Tliis  winds  and  wriggles  this 
way  and  that,  loth  to  appear  but  under  some  specious 
disguise  of  zeal  for  truth,  indignation  against  false  doc- 
trine, or  the  like ;  but  it  bewrays  itself,  and  unawares, 
shows  its  ugly  serpentine  head.  For  if  the  thing  chosen 
out  to  be  the  matter  of  contest  be  thought  worth  so  much, 
whenitis  manifestly  either,  in  comparison,  little,  ornothing 
but  a  figment,  why  are  not  the  things  on  all  hands  most 
confessedly  great  and  most  evident,  more  highly  esteem- 
ed, loved,  relished,  and  with  gust  and  delight  fed  uponl 
Why  do  not  the  greater  things  signify  more  to  imite  us  in 
love  and  communion  with  all  that  agree  with  us  in  them, 
than  the  lesser  things  to  divide  us,  about  which  we  dis- 
agree 1  Indeed  the  disagreements  were  in  themselves  vastly 
great  between  the  untainted  Christians  of  these  Galatian 
churches,  and  that  horrid  sect  that  the  apostle's  discourse 
has  manifest  reference  unto.  Blessed  be  God  there  are 
not  such  disagreements  amongst  us.  But  while  there  is 
less  taint  of  error  in  our  minds,  (as  to  these  things,)  are  w^e 
not  concerned  to  take  heed  there  be  not  as  great  a  taint  of 
this  vicious  carnality  in  our  hearts  1  It  speaks  too  much 
of  it;  when  having  devised  a  difference,  v/e  are  prone  to 
overlook  and  make  little  account  of  the  great  things 
wherein  we  are  entirely  and  most  professedly  agreed. 

If  we  consider  the  things  which  the  doctrinal  part  of 
this  epistle  doth  more  expressly  refer  to,  as  I  have  noted 
already  how  great  things  in  reference  hereto  are  we  fully 
agreed  in  !  We  are  all  agreed,  that  a  sinner,  an  apostate 
lapsed  creature,  can  never  be  saved  and  brought  to  a 
blessed  state,  but  he  must  be  justified,  and  he  must  be 
sanctified.  He  must  be  justified,  to  make  his  state  safe  ; 
he  must  be  sanctified,  to  make  the  temper  of  his  spirit 
good,  capable  of  communion  with  God  in  this  world,  and 
of  final  eternal  blessedness  with  him  in  the  other.  We 
are  agreed,  that  such  justification  and  such  sanctification 
are  both  the  effects  of  most  absolutely  free  and  sovereign 
grace ;  that  none  could  be  ever  justified,  but  by  freest 
grace  ;  that  none  can  ever  be  sanctified  but  by  freest  gnace, 
most  absolutely  and  most  sovereignly  free.  We  are  agreed, 
that  the  highest  perfection  of  sanctification  that  can  ever 
possibly  be  attained  unto,  signifies  nothing  at  all  to  de- 
serve, to  procure  by  merit  our  justification.  We  are 
agreed,  that  both,  as  they  are  from  the  most  free  and 
sovereign  grace,  so  do  come  through  the  mediation  of 
Jesus  Christ,  the  alone  Mediator  between  God  and  man  : 
that  the  righteousness  is  entirely  and  only  Christ's,  by 
which  we  are  justified :  that  the  Spirit  is  most  entirely  and 
only  Christ's,  by  which  we  are  sanctified ;  according  to 
that  in  1  Cor.  vi.  9,  10,  11.  Such  as  are  mentioned  there 
were  before  the  grossest  and  vilest  of  sinners,  fornicators, 
adulterers,  idolaters,  &c.  And  such  (saith  the  apostle) 
were  some  of  you :  but  ye  are  washed,  but  ye  are  sancti- 
fied, but  ye  are  justified  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus, 
and  by  the  Spirit  of  our  God. 

You  cannot  but  be  in  all  these  agreed.  We  are  agreed, 
that  whosoever  does  sincerely,  evangelically  believe  in  God 
through  Christ,  receives  Christ,  is  united"  with  him,  or  is 
in  him :  who  doth  by  serious  repentance  turn  to  God, 
whose  heart  is  won  to  love  him  in  truth  as  his  highest  and 
best  good,  who  is  conformed  to  the  image  of  his  Son  ;  and 
who  having  been  made  willing  in  the  day  of  his  power,  doth 
now  render  a  sincere  obedience  to  him ;  every  such  one  is  in 
a  safe  state,  accepted  with  God,  has  found  grace  in  his  eyes. 

For  no  words  of  Scripture  can  be  plainer,  than  that  they 
that  believe  in  Christ  shall  not  perish,  but  have  everlast- 
ing life,  John  iii.  16.  yea,  that  they  have  it,  ver.  36.  That 
life  is  begun  with  them,  which  is  never  to  end,  or  which 


!■:  in  the  sure  way  to  be  continued  till  it  bec^tiic  everlast- 
ing:  that  they  that  repent,  and  turn  from  all  their  trans- 
gressions, their  iniquities  shall  not  be  their  ruin  ;  (Ezek. 
xviii.  30.)  that  God  hath  prepared  the  things  which  eye 

hath  not  seen for  them  that  love  him,  and  will  give 

them  the  crown  of  life  according  to  his  own  promise; 
(1  Cor.  ii.  9.  Jam.  i.  12.)  that  Christ  doth  become  the 
Author  of  eternal  salvation  to  them  that  obe)'  him  ;  (Heb. 
V.  9.)  that  there  is  no  condemnation  to  them  that  are  in 
Christ,  that  walk  not  after  the  flesh,  but  after  the  Spirit ; 
(Rom.  viii.  1.)  that  it  must  turn  wholly  to  the  praise  of 
the  glory  of  his  grace,  that  God  makes  them  accepted  in 
the  beloved,  Eph.  i.  6.  We  do  all  agree,  that  they  that 
do  never  believe,  they  that  never  repent,  they  that  never 
love  God,  they  that  are  never  brouglit  to  obey  him,  that 
live  in  enmity  and  rebellion  against  him  to  the  last  breath, 
must  needs  be  in  a  lost  state,  are  never  justified,  never  ac- 
cepted with  God,  are  liable  unto  coming  and  abiding 
wrath,  and  remain  under  condemnation,  John  iii.  16,  36. 
Luke  xiii.  3.  Col.  iii.  6.  We  agree,  that  such  faith,  such 
repentance,  such  love  to  God,  such  obedience,  even  in  the 
most  entire  sincerity,  are  not  to  be  considered  at  all,  as  any 
cause  of  such  a  person's  acceptance  with  God;  they  do 
characterize  the  accepted  person,  but  they  cause  it  not, 
they  deserve  nothing;  nay,  they  could  not,  if  they  were 
perfect.  No  internal  work  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  though  in 
this  our  present  state  it  were  most  absolutely  perfect,  so 
as  to  exclude  every  thing  of  sin,  could  be  any  part  of  that 
righteousness  that  must  justify  us  before  God.  To  sup- 
pose that  it  could,  would  be  manifestly  to  confound  the 
offices  of  the  Redeemer,  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  It  was 
Christ  that  was  to  merit  for  us;  the  Holy  Ghost  was 
never  to  merit  for  us.  It  was  not  the  Holy  Ghost  that 
died  for  us,  nor  can  his  operations  or  productions  in  us, 
have  any  causative  influence  to  the  meriting  the  justified 
and  accepted  state  of  any  person  before  God.  They  were 
never  meant  for  that  purpose,  nor  have  any  aptitude  or 
accommodateness  thereunto.  They  cannot  make  us  never 
to  have  sinned  ;  nor  can  atone  for  our  having  done  so. 
We  cannot  but  be  agreed  in  this,  for  'tis  plain,  and  carries 
its  own  evidences  in  itself:  i.  e.  suppose  we  a  person,  as 
soon  as  he  is  converted,  made  perfectly  free  from  sin,  that 
very  moment,  by  some  extraordinary  powerful  work  of  the 
Holy  Ghost  on  his  soul,  how  shall  that  expiate  for  his 
having  been  a  sinner?  Now  where  there  are  so  great 
things  wherein  we  agree,  and  we  make  little  of  ihem  ;  things 
that  should  raise  up  our  souls,  and  awaken  all  our  powers 
unto  highest  acts  of  love,  gratitude,  and  praise  to  God 
and  our  Redeemer,  and  fill  us  with  wonder  and  pleasure 
as  often  as  we  think  of  them  ;  an  indisposition  of  mind  to 
take  notice  of,  and  consider  such  things,  so  as  to  improve 
and  use  them  to  the  great  purposes  of  the  Christian  life, 
as  incentives  to  the  love  of  God,  an  entire  devoting  of  our- 
selves to  him,  vigorous  and  diligent  serving  of  him,  and 
walking  holily  and  comfortably  with  him  in  our  daily 
course,  through  a  greater  disposition  to  contend  about 
we  well  know  not  what  besides,  too  plainly  shows  much  of 
that  carnal  disaflection,  which  the  apostle  dolh  here  ani- 
madvert upon.  There  are  other  things  belonging  to  this 
same  purpose  that  I  firid  I  cannot  reach  to  at  this.  time. 


SERMON  II. 

Gal.  V.  16. 

Tkis  I  say  then.  Walk  in  the  Spirit,  and  yc  shall  not  fulfil 

the  lust  of  ike  fiesh. 

I  HAVE  begun  to  show  you  by  what  indications  much 
carnality  may  appear,  and  show  itself  in  and  about  spiritual 
matters  ;  as.  (for  instance.)  in  the  controverting,  yea,  even 
in  the  defending,  the  truths  of  the  Gospel ;  and  intend 
now  to  proceed.     You  have  heard  it  does  so, 

1.  When  Christians,  who  are  ver}'  far  agreed  in  the  most 
important  things,  make  little  of  the  things  wherein  thej' 
are  agreed  though  never  so  great,  in  comparison  of  the 


466 


THE  CARNALITY  OF  RELIGIOUS  CONTENTION. 


much  less  things  wherein  they  differ;  as  all  serious 
Christian  must  be  understood  to  agree  in  far  greater  things 
than  it  is  possible  for  them  to  diffei  in.  I  lately  mentioned 
to  you  sundry  great  agreements  that  I  cannot  doubt  to  be 
very  common  with  serious  and  intelligent  Christians, 
v/hich  I  sliall  not  now  stay  to  repeat,  but  add, 

2.  Such  carnality  shows  itself,  when  there  is  too  much 
aptness  to  lay  greater  stress  than  is  needful  upon  some 
unseriptural  words  in  delivering  Scripture  doctrine.  Here 
we  may  take  carnality  as  the  apostle  doth,  1  Cor.  iii.  3. 
While  there  are  divisions  among  you,  are  you  not  carnal, 
and  walk  (or  act)  as  men  1  There  is  more  of  the  man  in 
it  than  of  the  Christian:  when  we  can  make  a  shift  to  divide 
about  a  word,  and  that  (in  the  present  use  of  it)  devised 
only  by  man;  when  words  that  are  merely  of  human 
stamp,  and  used  in  no  such  sense,  or  to  no  such  purpose  in 
Scripfure,  however  they  may  be  significant,  yet  too  great 
a  stress  and  weight  is  laid  upon  them,  either  by  too  stiffly 
a.dhering  to  them  on  the  one  hand,  or  too  vehemently  de- 
crying them  on  the  other  hand  ;  while,  perhaps  (and  it  is 
a  certain  and  a  known  case)  the  meaning  may  be  the  same 
on  both  sides,  and  would  be  so,  or  M'ould  appear  to  be  so, 
if  such  and  such  words  were  waived,  and  otheis  more  un- 
derstood were  chosen,  and  used  in  the  room  of  them.  It 
is  true,  we  are  not  to  think  (and  no  man  of  sense  can)  that 
we  are  obliged  never  to  use  other  words  in  such  matters, 
but  such  as  the  translators  of  Bible  have  hit  on  in  their 
version  of  it,  as  if  that  must  consecrate  those  words,  and 
leave  all  other  under  a  profane  character;  but  if  it  appear 
that  any  word  of  a  doubtful  signification  is  misunderstood 
by  many,  creates  otfence,  and  through  some  fixed,  immove- 
able prejudice,  or  prepossession  that  some  other  notion  of 
it  hath  obtained  in  the  minds  of  many,  it  will  always  be 
otherwise  understood  by  them  than  we  intend,  let  it  rather 
go  for  a  nchushlan,  than  that  ihe  peace  of  the  church 
should  be  broken,  and  men's  minds  be  disturbed  and  dis- 
quieted by  it.  This  is  the  case,  when  any  such  words  as 
might  be  arbitrarily  used  or  laid  aside,  are  made  so  ne- 
cessary, or  so  destructive,  as  if  all  religion  were  saved  or 
lost  by  them:  when  one  so  cries  up  such  a  word,  as  if  he 
would  say,  "The  heavens  must  fall  if  I  have  not  my 
word."  And  another  decries  it  as  much,  as  if  he  said, 
"  They  must  fall  if  it  be  admitted,  or  if  I  have  not  mine." 
Sure  there  must  be  in  this  case  that  forbidden  Aoyo/m^ia, 
of  which  the  apostle  speaks  in  that,  1  Tim.  vi.  4.  which 
they  are  usually  most  apt  to  be  guilty  of,  that  are  also 
guilty  of  what  is  put  in  conjunction  therewith,  perverse 
disputings  of  meti  of  corrupt  minds ;  with  these  falls  in 
this  strife  of  words  :  whether  that  be  to  be  understood  ob- 
jectively, or  instru mentally,  strife  about  words  or  wordy 
strifes,  I  shall  not  here  determine.  But  that  whole  context 
is  worth  our  considering,  ver.  3,  4,  5.  If  any  man  teach 
otherwise,  do  lTt(>'<&iiauKa\u,  teach  other  or  alien  things,  or 
after  another  or  alien  manner,  and  consent  not  to  the  words 
of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  doctrine  which  is  ac- 
cording to  godliness :  4.  He  is  proud,  knowing  nothing, 
but  doting  about  questions,  and  strife  of  words,  whereof 
Cometh  envy,  strife,  railings,  evil  surmisings,  5.  Perverse 
disputings  of  men  of  corrupt  minds,  and  destitute  of  the 
truth,  supposing  that  gain  is  godliness:  from  such  with- 
draw thyself.  And  therewith  agrees  what  we  find  also  men- 
tioned, with  the  charge  of  avoiding  them,  2  Tim.  ii.  23. 
Foolish  and  unlearned  questions  that  gender  strifes.  Some 
may  fancy  they  make  themselves  considerable  for  learning 
by  such  altercations  ;  but  the  apostle  slurs  that  conceit, 
calling  them  unlearned.  So  I  remember  »  Seneca  says  of 
the  Greeks,  (callin?  it  their  disease,)  that  they  made  much 
ado  with  certain  idle  questions,  (as,  how  many  rowers  be- 
longed to  the  vessel  that  carried  Ulysses  1  and  such  like, 
that  he  there  mentions,)  whereby,  says  he,  they  did  not  ap- 
pear more  learned,  but  only  more  troublesome. 

3.  When  we  consider  with  too  little  indulgence  one  an- 
other's mistakes  and  misapplications,  in  the  use  even  of 
Scripture  words,  placing  them  as  some  may  do,  upon  things 
to  which  they  do  not  properly  belong,  when  yet  they  agree 
about  the  things  themselves.  There  are  words  in  the  Scrip- 
ture revelation,  that  it  may  be  the  one  or  the  other  of  dis- 
agreeing persons  may  apply  to  one  thing,  when  the  other 
(perhaps  truly)  thinks  they  belong  more  properly  to  an- 
a  De  Brev.  Vita. 


other.  There  is  an  inconvenience  in  this  :  the  case  is  muc"n 
as  if  one  should  have  an  idea  of  all  the  streets  of  London, 
in  his  mind  as  they  lie,  but  he  mistakes  the  names,  and 
transposes  them.  As  for  instance,  calls  Cheap-side  Corn- 
hill,  or  Cornhill  Cheap-side.  He  does  not  speak  so  in- 
telligibly to  another,  but  at  the  same  time  may  have  the 
same  idea  in  his  mind  of  London  that  another  has.  And 
this,  however,  when  it  occurs  in  religious  disceptations, 
ought  to  be  considered  (though  there  be  an  inconvenience 
in  it)  with  indulgence,  as  knowing  we  are  all  liable  to  mis- 
takes in  greater  matters.  And  as  it  is  possible  there  may 
be  somewhat  of  carnality,  some  perverseness,  some  cloud 
arising  from  infirm  flesh  that  darkens  the  mind,  and  occa- 
sions it  so  to  mistake ;  so  'tis  much  greater,  not  to  be  able 
to  bear  in  another  such  a  mistake. 

4.  When  there  is  an  agreement  about  the  main  and 
principal  things  that  the  Scripture  revelation  contains  and 
carries  in  it ;  but  there  is  not  that  agreement  about  their 
mutual  respects  and  reilsrences  unto  one  another.  This  is 
a  matter  indeed  of  greater  importance;  there  can  bene 
true  scheme  given  of  Gospel  truths  and  doctrines,  if  such 
their  references  and  respects  to  one  another  be  not  rightly 
understood.  But  an  entire  true  scheme  of  Christian  doc- 
trines will  not  enter  into  all  minds;  and  for  the  most  part 
they  are  particular  passages,  or  particular  truths,  that  strik«* 
hearts,  and  that  God  makes  use  of  to  do  souls  good  by. 
And  if  so  entire  a  scheme  will  not  enter  into  the  minds  of 
many,  whether  through  their  darkness  or  ignorance,  or 
whether  through  any  thing  of  prejudice,  that  was  as  it  were 
forelaid  in  their  minds;  nothing  remains  but  to  be  patient 
of  it,  and  to  do  them  what  good  we  can,  even  upon  their 
own  terms,  and  in  the  way  wherein  they  are  capable  of  it. 
There  was  such  an  obstruction  in  minds  among  these  Co- 
rinthians, even  upon  this  very  account  of  their  carnality,  as 
we  see  in  that  3d  of  the  1st  epistle,  that  the  apostle  tells 
them,  I  could  not  speak  to  you  as  spiritual,  (it  must  be 
understood  comparatively,)  but  as  unto  carnal ;  and  there- 
fore, as  a  wise  instructor,  thought  it  needful  to  keep  back, 
to  withhold  some  things  from  them  that  he  reckoned  might 
be  meat  to  them,  solid  meat,  strong  meat,  because  they 
had  been  hitherto  unable  to  bear  it,  nor  were  yet  able.  It 
is  in  that  case  needful  rather  somewhat  to  iiri^siv,  to  with- 
hold some  things,  or  suspend,  than  by  a  continued  and  too 
urgent  inculcation  to  frustrate  one's  own  design;  and 
while  we  would  have  all  enter  into  less  capable  minds,  to 
have  nothing  enter.  It  may  sometimes  be,  that  when  too 
much  is  endeavoured  at  once  to  be  borne  in  upon  them 
against  an  invincible  obstruction,  we  only  engage  them  to 
fortify  the  more  strongly,  and  shut  out  all ;  and  so  we  de- 
feat ourselves.  They  gain  nothing,  and  our  whole  design 
is  frustrated  and  lost.  In  all  our  applications  to  the  souls 
of  men,  there  must  be  patient  waiting,  and  very  gradual 
endeavours  used, without  force  and  furious  striving;  yea, 
in  our  having  to  do  with  such  as  are  yet  the  very  vassal.? 
and  captives  of  the  devil.  So  the  apostle  speaks,  2  Tim. 
ii.  24.  The  servant  of  the  Lord  should  not  strive,  but  be 
patient  towards  (even  all)  men,  and  wait  (even  in  reference 
to  them  that  are  hitherto  altogether  impenitent)  when  God 
will  give  them  repentance,  that  they  may  recover  them- 
selves out  of  the  snare  of  the  devil,  that  are  led  captive  by 
him  at  his  will.  Much  more  are  such  methods  to  be  used 
towards  them,  wlio  call  on  the  name  of  our  Lord  out  of  a 
pure  heart,  as  hf  speaks  a  little  above  in  the  same  context, 
ver.  22.  And  consider  the  extent  and  endearingness  of 
this  character.  'Tis  to  be  deplored  that  it  extends  not 
further ;  but  so  far  as  it  doth  extend,  God  forbid  it  should 
not  have  a  most  persuasive  efficacy  and  power  upon  our 
spirits,  to  make  us  follow  righteousness,  faith,  charity, 
peace,  even  with  all  them  that  bear  that  character,  i.  e.  that 
call  on  the  Lord  with  a  pure  heart ;  their  Lord  (as  'tis 
elsewhere)  as  well  as  ours;  be  they  of  what  party,  or 
denomination,  soever: 

5.  Much  of  this  carnality  appears  about  such  matters, 
when  we  are  over  intent  to  mould  and  square  Gospel  truths 
and  doctrines  by  human  measures  and  models,  and  too 
earnestly  strive  to  make  them  correspond ;  that  is,  when 
we  aim,  beyond  what  things  can  admit,  tostretch  (or  rather 
to  shrink  and  contract)  God's  transactions  with  men,  unto 
the  scheme  and  model  of  our  own  abstract  notions  and  d".- 


THE  CARNALITY  OF  RELIGIOUS  CONTENTION. 


46' 


finitions,  or  of  merely  human,  civil,  or  political  economies, 
administrations,  and  transactions ;  such  I  mean  as  obtain 
among  men  towards  one  another ;  and  so  labour  to  have  the 
same  measures  take  place  throughout  in  reference  to  Divine 
things,  as  do  in  human.  Whereby  more  than  is  needful,  use- 
ful, (or  indeed  so  much  as  possible  to  agree  and  quadrate,)  of 
logic,  metaphj-sics,  and  of  civil  and  other  law,  is  introduced 
into  theology.  Illustrations  indeed  may  be  taken  thence, 
but  not  strict  meabures.  It  is  impossible  sometimes  they 
should  be  so.  Divers  things  are  taken  among  men  in 
such  notions,  as,  in  delivering  the  doctrine  of  the  Gospel 
cannot  have  a  full  and  adequate  place  :  they  often  will  not 
exactly  agree  or  correspond.  As  if,  in  speaking  of  God's 
pardoning  and  justifying  a  sinner,  we  should  take  our 
measures  of  pardon  and  justification  strictly  from  what  ob- 
tains amongst  men,  we  shall  find  a  great  difference  and 
disagreement.  For  plain  it  is,  that,  according  to  liuman 
measures,  the  same  person  cannot  be  both  pardoned  and 
justified.  He  that  is  pardoned  cannot  be  justified,  and  he 
that  is  justified,  cannot  be  pardoned.  But  according  to 
Divine  and  Gospel  measures  both  are  truly  said  of  the  same 
person.  In  the  one  case  there  is  an  inconsistency,  in  the 
other  a  fair  agreement  of  the  same  things.  He  that  is  at  a 
human  bar  a  justified  person,  needs  no  pardon,  his  case 
admits  of  none ;  if  he  were  justified,  pardon  were  absurdly 
talked  of;  and  so  if  he  were  pardoned,  that  does  plainly 
imply  that  he  was  not  justified.  It  is  quite  otherwise  if 
you  bring  these  things  to  the  Gospel,  and  God's  dealing 
with  sinners.  I  cannot  now  spend  time  in  showing  you 
distinctl}^  how  these  things  do  lie,  and  are  very  capable  of 
being  accommodated,  in  the  sinner's  case ;  some  resem- 
blance will  appear,  not  an  exact  or  entiie  correspondency. 
The  instance  however  serves  our  present  purpose,  to  show 
that  God's  procedure  and  methods  in  his  dispensations  to- 
wards men,  will  not  in  all  things  square  with  human 
measures. 

Again,  if  we  speak  of  the  doctrine  of  God's  covenant 
in  Jesus  Christ,  we  cannot  take  our  measures  from  human 
covenants  that  pass  between  man  and  man,  especially  one 
private  man  and  another  ;  for  there  the  persons  are  under 
no  obligation  before  their  mutual  consent.  It  is  not  so 
between  God  and  man :  God's  covenants  are  laws  as  well 
as  covenants;  and  so  a  man  is,  before  he  consents,  obliged 
to  consent.  Therefore  here  again  it  appears  Gospel  doctrines 
are  not  to  be  exactly  measured  by  human  models.  Nor 
should  this  be  too  earnestly  endeavoured,  we  should  not 
too  much  set  our  minds  upon  it ;  'tis  to  oifer  at  a  thing  in 
its  own  nature  not  practicable,  and  there  is  too  much  of 
man  in  it. 

6.  When  there  is  a  discernible  proneness  to  oppose  the 
great  things  of  the  Gospel  to  one  another,  and  to  exalt  or 
magnify  one,  above  or  against  another.  It  is  too  plain  this 
may  more  commonly  come  under  observation,  than  it  doth 
under  that  reprehension  which  it  deserves.  For  instance, 
those  two  great  things  that  I  mentioned  at  first,  justifica- 
tion and  sanctification,  both  very  great  things,  of  most  ap- 
parent and  confessed  necessity  to  the  salvation  and 
blessedness  of  the  souls  of  men;  justification,  that  a  man's 
state  may  be  good  ;  sanctification,  that  the  temper  of  his 
soul  may  become  so.  But  is  it  not  too  common  to  magnify 
one  of  these  above  or  against  the  other  1  To  contend  and 
dispute  with  great  fervour  concerning  the  higher  value  and 
excellency,  the  dignity  or  precedency,  of  this  or  that,  and 
to  which  the  preference  belongs  ;  to  be  so  much  taken  up 
about  the  one,  as  seldom  to  think  of  the  other;  and  it 
may  be  not  well  to  savonr  and  relish  the  mention  of  it  1 
Some  are  so  taken  up  about  the  business  of  justification, 
(that  admirable  vouchsafemcnt  of  grace  to  sinners  !)  that 
they  care  not  to  hear  of  sanctification;  and  so  all  their 
religion  is  foreign  to  them,  or  lies  in  somewhat  without 
them,  or  in  a  mere  relative  thing,  that  alters  not  their 
spirits.  A  strange  religion  !  that  makes  a  man  nothing  the 
better  man  ;  or  notwithstanding  which,  he  is,  in  the  habitual 
frame  of  his  soul,  as  bad  as  ever,  vain,  terrene,  worldly- 
minded,  proud,  passionate,  wrathful,  malicious,  vindictive, 
false,  deceitful,  perhaps  (for  that  is  not  worse  than  the  rest) 
very  impurely  sensual.  But,  no  man  can  tell  whv,  nor  to 
be  sure  he  himself,  he  takes  himself  to  be  a  justified  per- 
son :  a,ud  perhaps  his  imagination  of  it  arises  in  him  a 
sort  of  rapturous,  unaccountable  joy,   without  ground  or 


root,  and  which  will  not  only  wither,  but  turn  (without  a 
sea.sonable  and  merciful  change)  into  endless  horror,  weep- 
ing, wailing,  and  gnashing  of  teeth  !  A  fearful  and  most 
surprising  issue  and  disappointment  of  a  high  and  unmis- 
giving  confidence^  and  expectation  to  be  saved  !  With 
others,  whose  temper,  circumstances,  or  temptations,  have 
less  inclined  them  to  rejoicing,  their  religion  is  made  up  of 
tormenting  anxieties  and  fears,  and  consists  in  the  daily 
revolving  of  perpetual  endless  doubts,  whether  they  are 
ju-stified  or  no  ;  without  any  direct,  formed  design  of  being 
or  doing  good  ;  by  which  they  might,  in  due  time,  come  to 
have  more  truly  comfortable  apprehensions  of  the  goodness 
of  their  state.  They  more  care  to  be  pardoned  for  being 
bad,  than  to  become  good  ! 

Again,  on  the  other  hand,  there  may  be  some  so  wholly 
taken  up  about  what  they  are  in  themselves  to  be  and  do, 
and  in  the  earnest,  but  too  abstract,  or  less  evangelical,  (and 
therefore  less  fruitful,)  endeavour  after  higher  pitches  of 
sanctity,  without  due  reference  to  the  grace,  Spirit,  and 
blood  of  a  Redeemer,  that  they  neglect  and  look  not  after 
their  justification,  and  acceptance  with  God  in  him;  nor 
do  relish  and  savour,  as  they  ought,  the  doctrine  of  the 
Gospel  herein.  Do  more  incline  to  a  philosophical  (and 
scarcely  Christian)  Christianity;  forgetting  Christ  to  be 
their  Redeemer,  their  Lord,  and  vital  Head,  and  that  they 
are  (or  ought  to  be)  under  his  conduct,  and  through  his 
mediation,  daily  tending  to  God  and  blessedness. 

But  now  upon  the  whole,  when  there  appears  an  aptness 
or  disposition  to  separate  these  two,  justification  and  sanc- 
tification, from  one  another,  or  either  of  them  from  abiding 
in  Christ ;  or  to  oppose  them  to  one  another,  or  contend 
about  the  priority  of  the  one  or  the  other,  (when  no  doubt 
they  go  together,)  and  about  the  preference  or  excellency  of 
the  one  above  the  other,  which  is  the  more  considerable 
thing:  herein  appears  much  carnality  of  mind,  an  unsound, 
injudicious,  distempered  spirit.  And  'tis  a  like  case,  as  if 
a  malefactor  at  the  same  time  is  under  sentence  by  which 
he  is  condemned  to  die,  and  under  a  most  dangerous  dis- 
ease, that  appears  very  probably  mortal  to  him:  he  has  a 
compassionate  prince,  willing  to  save  his  life,  and  he  at 
once  vouchsafes  him  his  pardon,  and  provides  a  very  skil- 
ful and  able  physician  for  the  curing  of  his  disease:  the 
wretched  creature  hearing  of  this,  falls  a  disputing  which 
of  these  is  the  greatest  favour,  to  have  my  disease  cured, 
or,  to  have  my  crime  pardoned  ;  and  in  the  heat  of  the 
dispute  he  neglects  both,  looks  after  neither.  This  is  in- 
deed less  supposable,  in  the  instanced  case  ;  but  how  great 
a  distemper  doth  it  show,  that  it  should  be  so,  in  this, 
which  is  of  unexpressibly  greater  importance! 

And  now  further  it  is  agreed  on  all  hands,  that  faith  in 
a  Redeemer  is  necessary  to  .salvation,  with  those  that  are 
adult,  and  capable  of  attending  to  the  Gospel  revelation; 
but  here,  what  disputes  are  then  raised  I  with  what  fer- 
vour are  they  managed,  concerning  the  place  of  it,  or  the 
kind  of  that  necessity  which  this  faith  is  of,  in  order  to  the 
safe  state  of  a  sinner !  A  like  case  again,  as  if  such  a 
condemned  malefactor  is  told  of  his  prince's  profes.sed, 
gracious  intendments  towards  him,  but  he  doubts  the 
sincerity  of  his  professions.  He  gives  him  all  desirable 
assurances,  and  tells  him.  Do  but  trust  me,  and  all  shall 
be  well.  BiU  he  presently  falls  a  disputing,  Yea,  but  how 
am  I  to  consider  this  trust  1  (we  suppose  it  unly  such  a 
trust  as  may  be  fitly  enough  placed  upon  a  man  :)  which 
way  is  it  to  contribute  towards  m}'  safety  or  welfare!  Is 
it  to  be  an  instrument  or  a  condition  1  How  absurd  an 
abuse  were  this  of  the  clemencj'  of  a  propitious  prince  ! 
If  there  were  a  public  proclamation  of  pardon  to  many 
offenders  at  once  concerned  together,  and  they  all  ae:ree 
only  to  disagree,  to  vie  with  one  another  their  skill  in 
criticizing  upon  the  words,  or  in  disputing  tiic  method, 
contending  about  the  order  and  coherence  of  parts,  and 
make  it  their  business  not  ihankfulh'  lo  accept,  but  cavil 
at,  to  tear  and  mangleand  pluck"  in  pieces  the  proclamation, 
and  defeat  the  kind  design  and  gracious  tender  of  their 
prince?  What  clemency  would  not  this  provuke  to  the 
highest  resentment  and  indignation  )  And  what  now  can 
be  stranger,  or  more  perverse,  than  that  a  revelation  from 
heaven  of  so  much  good  Avill  to  men,  in  the  substance  so 
plain,  and  that  so  directl)'  concerns  the  salva'ion  of  souls 
should  he  so  torn  and  mangled  1  considered  for  no  purpose 


^ 


468 


THE  CARNALITY  OF  RELIGIOUS  CONTENTION. 


less  than  that  for  which  it  was  vouchsafed,  and  that  the  vcr}' 
end  itself  should  be  in  so  great  part  eluded,  that  was  so 
kin  lly  designee,  in  it  1  Though  yet  ihe  endeavour  of  salv- 
ing difficulties  that  occur,  by  earnest  prayer,  diligent  study, 
and  by  amicable  and  placid  collation  among  brethren,  or 
comparing  of  sentiments,  sincerely  designed  for  a  clearer 
understanding  the  frame  of  the  Gospel  truth,  or  how  it 
may  be  with  most  advantage  represented  to  men  for  the 
promoting  of  the  common  salvation,  can  be  liable  to  no 
just  reprehension,  being  managed  with  that  reverence  that 
so  sacred  things  challenge,  and  with  a  due  sense  of  our 
own  Ignorance  and  imperfection.  That  only  which  is 
blameable  in  this  case,  and  whereof  I  reckon  no  account 
can  be  given,  or  defence  made,  is  that  when,  for  the  sub- 
stance, the  Gospel  propounds  and  lays  before  us  so  plain  a 
way  wherein  men  are  to  endeavour  the  saving  of  their 
souls,  as  wherein  the  wayfaring  man,  though  a  fool,  needs 
not  err,  i.  e.  that  there  must  be  repentance  towards  God, 
faith  in  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  a  renewed  heart,  a  holy 
life.  One  comes  and  pretends  to  show  that  order  of  these 
things  one  way,  so  as  to  compose  a  scheme  of  thena  that 
is  represented  as  most  necessary  to  be  observed  and  held 
to.  No,  saith  another,  I'll  give  you  a  righter  scheme  of 
salvation,  another  way,  and  mightily  presses  the  necessity 
of  that,  and  the  dangerous  mistakes  of  the  other.  And 
thus  they  cover  a  plain  way  with  thorns  and  briers,  do  not 
instruct,  but  perplex  and  distract  whom  they  should  direct, 
create  distinctions  and  oppositions  of  scheme  to  scheme,  not 
only  without  necessity,  but  almost  without  a  difference, 
and  yet  insist  with  vehemency,  and  lay  men's  salvation 
upon  their  understanding  the  matter  so  or  so,  when  it  is 
hoped  thousands  have  been  saved,  that  never  heard  of  the 
one  scheme  or  the  other,  as  they  are  distinguished  and  op- 
posed to  each  other.    Who  can  justify  this  1  Again,  in  the 

1th.  place,  When  any  do  with  great  zeal  contend  lor  this 
or  that  opinion  or  notion,  as  very  sacred  and  highly  spirit- 
ual, (as  they  account,)  with  no  other  design,  than  that 
under  that  pretence  thay  may  indulge  their  own  carnal 
inclination  with  the  greater  liberty.  It  was  the  very  genius 
of  this  sort  of  men  against  whom  this  epistle  was  meant, 
whether  they  were  then  called  gnostics  it  matters  not.  The 
name  well  agreed  to  them,  and  they  were  known  by  it 
afterwards.  They  were  men  of  much  pretence  to  know- 
ledge and  sublime  notions,  as  they  counted  them.  And 
herein  lay  their  religion  ;  and  under  this  pretence  they  in- 
dulged themselves  in  all  manner  of  licentiousness.  When 
any  do  take  up  with  mere  notions,  which  they  are  zealous 
for,  accounting  them  very  highly  spiritual ;  and  under  pre- 
text of  these,  they  indulge  the  carnality  of  their  hearts,  if 
not  of  their  lives  and  practices  too  ;  and  their  fine  notion, 
(as  they  account  it,)  which  they  (more  uncertainly)  father 
upon  the  Spirit  of  truth,  must  be  substituted  in  the  room 
of  all  that  love,  meekness,  humility,  heavenliness,  self- 
denial,  which  are  the  most  certain  and  undoubted  fruits 
of  this  blessed  Spirit :  when  under  the  pretence  of  being 
notional  men,  and  of  knowing  a  great  deal  more  than 
most  others  do,  any  neglect  their  own  spirits,  and  suffer 
pride,  avarice,  ambition,  vindictiveness,  and  f'alsehood,  to 
shelter  themselves  under  the  thin  cobweb  of  a  few  fine- 
spun notions;  and  they  can  now  hereupon  live  at  random, 
with  more  ease  to  their  own  minds,  and,  they  think,  with 
beUer  reputation  as  to  other  men. 

Here  is  a  glittering  show  only  of  an  airy,  imagined, 
pretended  spirituality,  drawn  over  (but  which  doth  not 
hide)  corrupt,  rotten,  putrid  flesh.  Have  you  never  known 
such  a  case,  when  it  might  be  said,  there  goes  a  proud, 
ambitious  man,  a  covetous  man,  a  false  man,  a  malicious 
man  ;  but  he  is  a  man  of  rare  and  singular  notions,  knows 
a  great  deal  more  than  most  others  do;  and  this  must 
atone  for  all  his  crimes  with  God  and  man,  and  both  quiet 
his  conscience  and  salve  his  credit  together !  And  who 
can  doubt  but  this  man  must  be  very  fond  of  his  own 
opinions,  and  zealously  contend  and  dispute  for  them  upon 
any  occasion  (though  he  never  so  ineptly  make  it)  when 
they  are  to  do  hira  so  great  service,  and  to  stand  him  in 
so  much  stead,  i.  e.  to  supply  the  room  for  him  of  all  real 
religion  and  morality.  And  if  he  have  happened  upon 
such  notions  as  are  really  true,  and  revealed  by  God  him- 
self, by  how  much  the  more  certainly  divine  they  be,  so 
much  the  greater  is  the  wickedness,  so  basely  to  prostitute 


sacred  things,  truths  that  are  the  very  offspring  of  heaven, 
unto  so  vile  purposes.  It  were  fault  enough  to  make  them 
serve  different  or  other  purposes  than  they  are  caj)able  of, 
i.  e.  to  supply  the  room  of  religion  and  real  goodness. 
What  an  indignity  is  that  to  religion,  to  suppose  an  empty 
spiritless  opinion  can  fill  tip  its  place  !  a  thing  that  does  a 
man  no  good,  for  which  his  mind  and  spirit  is  nothing  the 
better  !  much  more,  that  shelters  what  is  so  very  bad  !  Can 
this  serve  for  religion  1  That  religion  that  consists  with 
being  proud,  with  being  deceitful,  with  being  malicious, 
with  being  revengeful,  learn,  learn  to  despise  such  a  reli- 
gion !  Much  more  that  is  taken  up  to  veil  over  these,  and 
exclude  all  real  goodness  !  Again, 

8.  When,  in  the  maintaining  any  doctrine  of  the  Gospel 
in  opposition  to  others,  we  industriously  set  ourselves  to 
pervert  their  meaning,  and  impute  things  to  them  that  they 
never  say.  Or  again,  if  we  charge  their  opinions  whom 
we  oppose  with  consequences  which  they  disclaim,  profess- 
ing, it  may  be,  rather  to  disclaim  their  former  opinion,  ■ 
and  change  their  judgment,  than  admit  such  consequences, 
if  they  could  discern  any  connexion  between  the  one  and 
the  other.  This  surely  argues  a  mighty  disposition  to  con- 
tend, when  we  will  quarrel  with"  one  that  is  really  of  our 
own  mind  ;  for  herein  he  appears  to  be  virtually  already 
of  the  same  mind  in  a  greater  matter,  at  least,  than  he 
differs  with  us  about ;  because  no  man  charges  another's 
ojiinion  with  a  consequence,  designing  thereby  to  oblige 
him  to  change  his  opinion  ;  but  as  supposing  it  to  be  an 
agreed  thing  between  them  both,  that  the  consequence  is 
worse  than  the  opinion.  When  therefore  the  consequence 

I  charge  is  disclaimed  by  him  whom  I  oppose,  either  it  i: 
justly  charged,  or  it  is  not.  If  it  be  not,  his  opinion  maj 
be  true,  notwithstanding  what  I  herein  say  to  the  contrary, 
and  I  am  certainly  so  far  in  an  error.  But  if  it  be  justly 
charged,  being  yet  disclaimed,  we  are  formally  agreed 
concerning  the  consequence,  and  are  virtually  agreed  con- 
cerning the  disputed  point  too,  because  he  professedly  dis- 
avows it  upon  supposition  such  a  consequence  would  fol- 
low, which  yet  perhaps  he  sees  not;  and  so  the  agreement 
must  be  much  greater  than  the  difference.  And  yet  com- 
monly this  signifies  nothing  in  order  to  peace  :  that  is,  it  is 
not  enough,  that  I  see  the  same  things  that  you  do,  unless 
I  also  see  them  too  with  your  eyes. 

9.  AVhen  such  disputes  do  arise  at  length  to  wrath,  to 
angry  strife,  yea,  and  even  to  fixed  enmity.  What  dread- 
ful carnality  is  here  !  Most  deservedly  so  called,  if  yoa 
only  consider  flesh  or  carnality  as  an  unreasonable,  a  brutal 
thing.  For  what  can  be  more  unreasonable  or  unaccount- 
able than  to  fall  out  with  another  man,  because  he  thinks 
not  as  I  do,  or  receives  not  my  sentiments,  as  I  also  do  not 
receive  his.  Is  it  not  to  be  considered,  that  he  no  further 
differs  from  me  than  I  do  from  him  1  If  there  be  cause  of 
anger  upon  this  account,  on  one  side,  there  is  the  same 
cause  on  the  other  too  ;  and  then  whither  shall  this  growl 
And  how  little  can  this  avail  upon  a  rational  estimate? 
Can  any  good  come  of  it  ?  doth  it  tend  to  the  clearing  of 
truth  1  Shall  we  see  the  better  through  the  clouds  and  dust 
we  raised  1  Is  a  good  cause  served  by  it  1  or  do  we  think 
it  possible  the  wrath  of  man  should  ever  work  the  right- 
eousness of  God  ?  And  when  such  carnalities  as  these  do 
exert  themselves,  and  the  hot  steams  and  fumes  arise, 
which  the  apostle  here  calls  the  lusts  of  the  flesh,  the  flesh 
lusting  to  envy,  lusting  to  wrath  ;  what  is  the  product  (or 
even  the  productive  cause)  but  that  sort  of  fire  which  is 
without  light  1  And  you  know  what  fire  that  resembles  ! 
And  if  a  man  once  find  any  fervour  of  this  kind  stir  or 
kindle  in  his  breast,  if  he  aright  consider,  he  would  no 
more  cherish  it,  than  one  would  do  a  brand  thrown  into 
his  bosom  from  the  infernal  fire.  One  would  think  in  this 
case,  What  have  I  stirring  within  me  1  something  a-kin  to 
hell !  Can  this  conduce  to  the  service  of  divine  and  hea- 
venly truth  "  And  let  it  be  sadly  considered  :  our  being, 
upon  such  accounts,  angry  Avith  one  another,  is  a  dismal 
token  of  God's  being  angry  with  us  all,  and  a  provoking 
cause  of  it  too.  Methinks  that  should  be  a  qualmy  thought ! 
and  strike  our  souls  with  a  strange  damp  !  Shall  I  indulge 
that  in  myself,  that  is  a  mark  upon  me  of  Divine  dis- 
pleasure ;  and  upon  all  in  whom  it  is  found  ?  To  liavc  his 
Holy  Spirit  retire,  that  blessed  Spirit  of  love,  and  of  a 
sound  mind,  and  to  leave  us  under  the  power  of  rebellious 


THE  CARNALITY  OF  RELIGIOUS  CONTENTION. 


469 


lusting  flesh!  Can  this  be  grateful,  or  not  be  a  dismaying, 
frightful  thing  1  And  whereas  a  right  scheme  of  Gospel 
doctrine  is  the  thing  pretended  to  be  striven  for,  1  beseech 
you  consider :  The  more  entirely,  and  the  more  deeply,  the 
true  scheme  of  Gospel  doctrine  is  inlaid  in  a  man's  soul, 
the  more  certainly  it  must  form  it  into  all  meekness,  hu- 
mility, gentleness,  love,  kindness,  and  benignity  towards 
fellow-Christians  of  whatsoever  denomination  ;  not  con- 
fined, not  limited  (as  that  of  the  Pharisees)  unto  their  own 
party;  but  diffusing  and  spreading  itself  to  all  that  bear 
the  character  and  cognizance  of  Christ.  The  Spirit  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ  is  a  Spirit  of  greater  amplitude;  ex- 
tends and  diffuses  itself  through  the  whole  body  of  Christ. 

Nor  can  any  man  more  eiiectually  disgrace  his  own 
cause,  or  make  sure  to  worst  himself  in  it,  than  by  defend- 
ing it  wrathfully.  For  admit  that  he  err  whom  I  oppose, 
a  thousand  to  one  but  that  m}'  wrath  is  worse  than  his 
error,  probably  a  thousand  times  worse.  I  go  about  there- 
fore to  take  away  a  mote  from  his  eye,  ha\'ing  a  beam  in 
my  own ;  or  am  more  concerned  for  a  misplaced  hair  upon 
his  head,  than  I  am  for  a  liery  ulcer  in  my  own  breast. 
We  are  not,  'tis  true,  to  be  stoical  to  condemn  the  natural 
passion  of  anger,  as  such,  for  sinful.  But  if  it  exceeds  its 
cause,  and  sets  not  with  the  sun,  it  becomes  strange,  un- 
hallowed fire.     But  again  in  the 

lO^A  place,  There  is  still  a  further  appearance  of  great 
carnality  in  such  cases,  when  any  do  adventure  to  judge  of 
the  consciences  and  states  of  them  whom  they  oppose,  or 
from  whom  they  differ:  when  they  ascend  the  tribunal, 
usurp  the  throne,  pass  sentence  upon  them,  as  men  of  no 
conscience,  or  of  no  sincerity,  or  uprightness  of  heart  with 
God.  As  if  theirs  were  to  be  the  universal  conscience,  the 
measure  of  all  consciences ;  and  he  that  cannot  be  governed 
by  their  conscience,  must  have  none  at  all :  or  he  be  stark 
blind  towards  truth,  towards  God,  and  towards  himself, 
that  sees  not  every  thing  they  see,  or  fancy  themselves  to  see. 

This  is  a  most  high  usurpation  upon  Divine  preroga- 
tive ;  and  how  can  any  insensibly  slide  into  such  an  evil 
a.s  this,  in  the  face  of  so  plain  and  so  awful  a  text  of  Scrip- 
ture, that  so  severely  animadverts  upon  it  1  that  14th  to 
the  Romans,  and  sundry  verses  of  it.  With  what  reve- 
rence and  dread  should  it  strike  a  man's  soul  in  such  a 
case!  When  we  have  the  rights  of  the  Redeemer  asserted 
in  those  whom  he  hath  bought  with  his  blood.  And  are 
told  that  for  this  end  Christ  both  died,  and  rose,  and  re- 
vived, that  he  might  be  Lord  both  of  the  dead  and  living, 
ver.  9.  And  it's  thereupon  further  said  to  us,  Who  art 
thou  that  judgest  another's  servant,  as  ver.  10.  Why  dost 
thou  judge  thy  brother,  or  set  at  nought  thy  brother  1  We 
must  all  stand  before  the  judgment  seat  of  Christ.  We 
are  all  of  us  his,  he  both  died,  and  revived,  and  rose  again, 
that  he  might  be  Lord  of  all,  as  Acts  x.  30.  And  here  of 
dead  and  living,  i.  e.  that  he  might  be  owner  of  all,  which 
is  the  first  notion  of  Domimis  or  Lord,  and  in  both  worlds, 
the  visible  and  the  invisible ;  that  into  which  many  are 
dead,  and  deceased  from  hence,  and  so  to  us  become  invisi- 
ble ;  and  many  that,  yet  surviving,  arestill  visible  tons.  So 
ample  is  his  dominion !  And  because  the  jus  imperii,  Ike 
right  of  government,  of  which  judgment  is  the  last,  con- 
clusive act,  hath  for  its  foundation  the  jus  dominii ;  'tis 
therefore  asserted  to  him  as  the  coronis  and  complement, 
the  very  sumviily  of  his  acquired  rights,  that  he  is  to  finish 
all  things  by  the  last  judgment,  which  must  pass  upon 
both  the  already  dead  and  the  yet  living.  Thus  is  the 
ground  of  the  expostulation  laid.  Who  art  thou  who  pre- 
sumest  to  justle  him  out  of  this  his  supreme  and  most 
sacred  right  1  Perhaps  the  matter  disputed  about  may  be 
doubtful,  but  there  is  no  doubt  concerning  this  incommu- 
nicable authority  of  our  Lord  Christ,  or  concerning  his 
law  against  such  judging.  Matt.  vii.  1.  And  to  run  into 
certain  sin,  in  a  furious  chasing  of  uncertain  error !  what 
consideration,  what  tenderness  of  offending,  of  affronting 
him,  and  of  hazarding  our  own  souls,  is  there  in  all  this  1 

To  judge  other  men's  consciences,  is  of  so  near  affinity 
with  governing  them,  that  they  that  can  allow  themselves 
to  do  the  former,  want  only  power,  not  will  or  inclination, 
to  offer  at  the  other  too.  Which  puis  the  matter  out  of 
doubt,  that  when  men  of  this  temper  complain  of  such 
usurpation,  'tis  not  that  they  think  it  an  offence  in  ii.self, 
but  against  them  only ;  and  that  no  consciences  ought  to 
34 


be  free,  but  their  own.  The  proof  of  an  honest  and  equal 
mind  herein  is,  when  we  judge  this  to  be  evil,  not  being 
hurt  by  it ;  or  abhor  to  hurt  others  in  this  kind,  when  we 
have  power  to  do  it.  Upon  which  account  that  passage  is 
memorable  of  tlie  emperor  Maximilian  II.  to  a  certain 
prelate,  that  there  was  no  sin,  no  tyranny,  more  grievous 
than  to  affect  dominion  over  men's  consciences  ;  and  that 
they  who  do  so,  go  about  to  invade  the  tower  of  heaven. 
A  considerable  saying  from  so  great  a  prince,  that  lived 
and  died  in  the  Roman  communion.  What  shall  be  thought 
of  any  such  protcstanis,  that  without  any  colour  or  shadow 
of  a  ground,  besides  difl'ering  from  thera  in  some  very  dis- 
putable and  unimportant  opinions,  shall  presume  to  judge 
of  other  men's  consciences,  (and  consequently  of  their 
states  God-ward,)  which  such  a  one  as  he  thought  it  so 
presumptuous  wickedness  to  attempt  to  overrule  or 
govern  "? 

11.  When  we  over-magnify  our  own  understandings, 
and  assume  too  much  to  ourselves.  That  is,  do  expect  that 
our  minds  be  taken  for  .standards  to  all  minds;  as  ii we, 
of  all  mankind,  were  exempt  from  error,  or  the  possibility 
of  being  mistaken.  A  certain  sort  of  (piXavrla  or  ai8l6:ta, 
an  access  of  love  and  admiration  of  ourselves,  or  over- 
pleasedness  with  ourselves,  too  much  self-complacency,  is 
the  true  (though  very  deep  and  most  hidden)  root  of  our 
common  mischief  in  such  cases.  We  w"rap  up  ourselves 
within  ourselves,  and  then  we  are  all  the  world.  Do  only 
compare  ourselves  with  ourselves,  never  letting  it  enter 
into  our  minds,  that  others  have  their  sentiment.s  too,  per- 
haps wiser  than  ours ;  but  abound  in  our  own  sense  ;  and 
while  (as  the  apostle  in  that  case  says)  we  are  not  wise, 
and  perhaps  are  the  only  persons  that  think  ourselves  .so, 
we  yet  take  upon  us,  as  if  we  were  fit  to  dictate  to  the  world, 
to  all  Christians  and  to  all  mankind ;  or  as  if  we  only 
were  the  men,  and  wisdom  mu.st  die  with  us. 

This  is  a  sort  of  evil,  than  which  there  is  none  more 
common  and  none  less  observed ;  none  wherewith  the 
guilty  are  so  little  apt  to  charge  themselves,  or  admit  con- 
viction of  it.  For,  1  pray,  do  but  consider ;  all  the  several 
differing  parlies  amongst  us  do  with  one  voice  pretend  to 
be  for  peace ;  but  hoM',  and  upon  what  terms  1  Why,  that 
all  the  rest  are  presently  to  be  of  their  mind;  and  that  is 
all  the  peace  that  most  are  for.  For  where  (scarce  any 
where)  is  the  man  to  be  found,  or  how  great  a  rarity  is  he, 
that  entertains  the  thought,  "  That  there  ma)',  for  aught  I 
know,  be  much  to  be  redressed  and  corrected  in  my  appre- 
hensions of  things,  to  make  me  capable  of  falling  in  with 
that  truth  which  ought  to  be  common  to  all."  There  is  Ein 
expectation  with  many,  of  a  good  lime  and  state  of  things, 
before  this  world  end,  when  all  shall  be  of  one  mind  and 
judgment ;  but  the  most  think  it  must  be  by  all  men's  be- 
coming of  their  mind  and  judgment.  And  of  this  .self- 
conceit  it  is  usually  a  harder  thing  to  fasten  conviction 
upon  men,  than  of  most  other  evils.  We  have  more  hope 
in  speaking  against  drunkenness,  murder,  or  any  the 
grossest  kind  of  wickedness;  for  there  the  conscience  of 
the  guilty  falls  in,  and  takes  part  with  the  reprtn'er.  But 
we  can  more  easily,  and  more  frequently  do,  (though  not 
frequently  enough.)  observe  the  faults  of  the  inferior  facul- 
ties of  our  external  actions,  than  of  the  faculty  itself  which 
we  should  observe.  Our  mind,  which  is  naturally  like  our 
eye,  is,  in  this,  too  like,  i.  e.  that  it  can  see  every  thing 
but  itself.  It  doth  not,  by  using  it,  preserve  its  peculiar, 
self-reflecting  power;  is  blind  towards  itself, beyond  what 
naturally  belongs  to  it.  An  object  may  be  too  near  our 
bodily  eye  to  be  seen.  Our  mind  is  herein  too  bodily, 
too  much  carnalized,  sunk  too  deep  into  flesh.  It  is  the 
next  thing  to  iisclf;  and  here,  not  by  its  primitive  nature, 
(bv  which  as  an  intellectual  sun  it  could  revert  its  beams, 
and  turn  them  inward  upon  itself,)  but  by  depravation,  it 
for  the  most  part  sees  nothing;  or  does  worse,  thinks  ii- 
.self to  see  what  is  not  to  be  seen,  certain  imaginary  excel- 
lencies, which  make  the  man  his  o^^•n  idol ;  an  object  of 
a  sort  of  adoration  to  himself;  and  of  scorn  and  derision 
(most  probably)  to  every  one  else.  In  this  case  every  man 
is.  however,  most  commonlv  innocent  in  his  own  eyes^  or 
still  thinks  he  is  in  the  right;  amidst  the  so  vast  a  variety 
of  apprehensions  and  sentiments  no  one  suspects  himself 
to  be  in  the  wrong.  All  are  for  the  truth,  and  they  are  all 
for  peace  and  union.   By  which  some  indeed,  more  gently, 


THE  CARNALITY  OP  RELIGIOUS  CONTENTION. 


470 

mean,  they  hope  all  will  quit  their  furmer  mistaken 
opinions  and  w  ys  (as  in  great  kindness  to  themselves 
they  take  for  granted  all  men's  are  but  their  own)  and 
come  wholly  over  to  them.  Others,  that  have  not  breasts 
capable  of  even  so  much  charity  as  this,  not  only  are  as 
much  lovers  and  admirers  of  themselves,  but  so  vehement 
haters  of  all  that  presume  to  difter  from  them,  that  they 
think  them  not  fit  to  live  in  the  world  that  durst  adventure 
to  do  so.  The  meaning  therefore  of  their  being  for  peace, 
is,  that  they  would  have  all  destroyed  that  are  not  of  their 
minds  ;  and  then  (as  the  Roman  historian  speaks)  Quando 
solitudliiem  feccre  appellant  paceiii ;  when  they  have  made  a 
desolation,  so  that  they  themselves  are  left  alone  in  the 
world,  that  they  loill  call  peace. 

But  you  will  say,  What  is  to  be  done  1  or  what  would 
I  persuade  in  this  case  of  differing  apprehensions  and  ways 
still  remaining  among  Christians  {  I  answer.  Not  pre- 
sently to  unbelieve  all  that  ever  a  man  hath  believed  be- 
fore ;  or  to  abandon  on  the  sudden  his  former  sentiments, 
or  to  find  fault  with  himself  for  having  thought  them  right. 
For  'tis  a  contradiction  to  he  of  any  opinion,  and  not  then 
to  think  it  right.  Nor,  therefore,  is  it  scepticism,  by  any 
means,  that  I  would  advise  to;  as  if  there  were  nothing 
to  be  thought  certain,  but  this ;  that  whereas  the  greatest 
and  most  necessary  things  in  religion  are  most  plain,  that 
is,  either  most  plain  in  themselves,  or  most  expressly  re- 
vealed in  the  word  of  God.  Here  let  us  be  steadfast  our- 
selves, without  being  severe  towards  other  men.  Other 
things,  that  are  more  matter  of  doubt  and  dispute,  by  how 
much  the  less  plain  they  are,  we  should  count  so  much  the 
less  necessary.  In  reference  therefore  to  these  less  mo- 
mentous things,  about  which  there  is  with  us  most  of 
jangling,  there  ought  always  to  be  great  modesty,  and  dis- 
trust of  our  own  understandings,  and  a  continued  readiness 
to  receive  information,  with  constant  looking  up  to  the 
Father  of  lights  for  further  illumination,  and  a  resolution, 
wherein  we,  with  others,  have  attained,  to  walk  by  the 
same  rule,  minding  the  same  (agreed)  things,  hoping  God 
will  reveal  his  mind  to  the  otherwise  minded  in  his  own 
time,  as  the  apostle  in  Phil.  iii.  16,  17.  But  to  hasten  to  a 
close,  I  further  add  in  the 

Last  place.  Such  carnality  greatly  shows  itself  in  an 
affectation  and  desire  of  having  such  disputes  still  kept 
afoot,  and  the  contests  continued  without  either  limit  or 
rational  design.  This  shows  a  deep  tincture,  and  is  a 
plain  indication  of  a  mind,  to  a  very  great  degree,  carnal- 
ized, when  a  mighty  pleasure  is  taken  to  see  the  saw  drawn, 
and  the  ball  kept  up.  And  if  the  question  be  asked,  Pray 
how  long  1  So  little  of  reasonable  answer  can  be  given, 
that  it  might  as  well  be  said  in  plain  terms,  Till  all  words 
be  spent,  till  speech  or  language  fail,  till  Elias  come,  or 
doomsday  come.  So  that  if  there  were  never  so  much 
reason  to  commend  the  having  said  somewhat  in  defence 
of  this  or  that  disputed  point,  we  might  yet  say,  as  Seneca 
did  of  Cicero's  so  much  overpraising  his  own  consulship, 
"  I  blame  him  not  for  praising  it  without  cause,  but  for 
doing  it  without  end ;"  or  that  he  could  never  give  over, 
or  tell  when  lie  had  said  enough.  Upon  the  same  terms 
upon  which  it  is  now  so  much  desired  such  disputes  should 
be  continued,  when  what  is  truly  enough  is  already  said, 
they  might  as  well  wish  they  always  should.  Which  sig- 
nifies, that  when  we  say,  we  would  have  men  contend  for 
truth,  we  wish  it  not  so  much  for  truth's  sake,  as  for  the 
contention's  sake.  By  all  means,  say  they,  strive  for  the 
truth  :  not  that  they  care  so  much  for  the  truth  as  for  the 
strife.  For  in  some  circumstances  there  is  not  an  end  in 
view,  that  is  rationally  to  be  designed  or  served  by  it,  on 
this  side  the  end  of  all  things.  Nor  consequently  any  good 
principle  that  is  to  be  exercised  or  gratified  thereby.  What 
is  needful  to  be  said  in  the  matters  alread)'  referred  to,  for 
the  informing  and  satisfying  of  tractable  minds  sincerely 
willing  to  understand  the  truth,  lies  within  a  little  com- 
pass. And  when,  in  controversy,  that  is  once  said,  which 
truly  belongs  to  the  very  point  in  question,  the  rest  is  com- 
monly trifling  and  reflection,  or  the  perplexing  of  the 
matter  more,  and  darkening  the  counsel  by  words  with- 
out knowledge.  If  love  to  truth  be  alleged  for  the 
principle  that  prompts  men  to  covet  so  continual  alterca- 
tions about  it,  I  would  say  this  shows  more  want  of  love 
to  it.     For  hereby  they  are  diverted  from  that  which  ren- 


ders it  most  of  all  amiable,  and  for  which  it  ought  chiefly 
to  be  loved.  As  it  is  the  truth  according  to  godliness,  and 
by  which  we  are  to  be  sanctified,  and  begotten  more  and 
more  (as  of  an  immortal  seed)  into  the  Divine  likeness. 
Experience  shows  how  little  disputes  better  men's  spirits. 
If  we  love  divine  truth,  why  do  we  not  feed  and  live  upon 
it,  and  enjoy  its  pleasant  relishes  1  but  relish  gravel  more, 
or  chafi'and  bran  1  For  thither  the  agitation  of  continued 
controversies  about  it  doth  soon  sift  it,  the  grain  of  flour 
(the  kidney  of  the  Avheat)  being  passed  away,  and  gone 
from  us.  Can  none  remember  when  the  disputative  hu- 
mour had  even  eaten  out  the  power  and  spirit  of  practical 
religion  and  godliness  1  Thither  things  are  again  tending 
if,  either  by  severity  or  mercy,  (one  may  say  rather  than 
not  otherwise,  by  merciful  severity,)  God  do  not  prevent 
and  repress  that  tendency.  As  yet  I  fear  the  humour  is 
violent,  when  the  fervour  of  men's  spirits  is  such,  as  to 
carry  them  over  all  Scripture  directions,  and  animadver- 
sions, that  they  signify  nothing  with  them  ;  only  make  i* 
their  business  each  one  to  animate  the  more  vogued  chan- 
pions  of  their  own  party  into  the  highest  ferments,  anci 
cry,  Dispute,  dispute,  write,  write,  preach,  preach  one 
against  another;  let  not  the  business  go  over  so,  do  not 
keep  silence.  Thus  are  many,  as  the  apostle  speaks, 
puffed  up  for  one  against  another,  1  Cor.  iv.  6.  And  what, 
has  such  a  text  of  Scripture  as  that  no  edge,  no  point,  by 
which  to  lance,  to  pierce'  such  a  tumour  1  No  ;  when  the 
humour  is  once  up,  and  has  enwrapt  men's  hearts  ;  is  set- 
tled there,  and  hath  obdured  them  to  a  brawny  hardness ; 
such  texts  of  Scripture,  though  so  mighty  pat  and  apposite, 
are  esteemed  by  them  but  as  leviathan  esteems  spears  and 
swords,  like  straw  and  rotten  wood,  they  do  not  enter  into 
men's  hearts,     A  strange  kind  of  obduration  ! 

And  how  supposable  is  it,  that  they  who  are  so  puffed 
up  for  others,  may  also,  through  the  known  corruption  of 
nature  even  in  the  best,  do  herein  not  a  little  to  the  puffing 
up  of  them  too.  The  apostle's  concluding  of  this  chapter 
with  those  cautions.  Let  us  not  be  desirous  of  vain-glory, 
provoking  one  another,  envying  one  another,  immediately 
upon  his  renewing  of  the  precept  (ver.  25.)  of  walking  in 
the  Spirit,  and  immediately  before  those  words,  (chap.  vi. 
1.)  If  a  man  be  overtaken  Avith  a  fault,  ye  which  are  .spi- 
ritual restore  such  a  one  in  the  spirit  of  meekness,  shows 
how  he  understood  the  case  to  be  with  these  Galatian 
Christians,  that  as  to  doctrinals  were  yet  sound  and  un- 
fallen  :  that  there  was  yet  such  carnality  working  in  their 
continued  contests,  (though  for  the  truth,)  such  pride,  such 
affectation  of  vain-glory,  such  wrathfulness,  as  showed  it 
was  not  mere  love  to  truth  that  kept  up  the  contest,  but 
some  such  worse  principles.  Nothing  is  plainer  than  that 
principles  and  ends  measure  one  another.  And  when  that 
is  done,  or  coveted  to  be  done,  that  serves  no  good  end ; 
or  is  so  done,  as  not  to  serve,  but  destroy  or  hinder,  any 
end  that  is  truly  good  ;  the  principle  must  be  very  bad  that 
moves  the  wheel.  Disorderly  eccentric  motions  bewray 
their  principle  and  end  together.  When  the  carriage  and 
conduct  of  an  affair,  that  carries  with  it  the  appearance  of 
serving  the  truth,  is  impetuous,  eager,  precipitant ;  when 
there  is  no  good  end  in  view  of  the  present  so  modified 
endeavour ;  when  enough  is  agreed  already  to  serve  the 
most  important  ends,  unity  among  brethren,  the  salvation 
of  souls,  and  yet  things  are  further  insisted  on,  unnecessary 
to  either,  yea,  prejudicial  to  both,  and  upon  which  the 
weight  and  stress  of  either  of  these  cannot  be  laid  without 
sin  ;  it  too  plainly  appears  vain-glory  to  oneself,  or  the 
slurring  of  a(designed)  adversary  is  the  end ;  and  then  the 
principle  is  proportionable.  Yet,  even  in  the  light,  and 
when  matters  are  thus  open  and  in  view,  oppositions  are 
pushed  on,  and  men's  spirits  rise  to  that  piich,  as  to  bear 
down  whatever  is  proposed,  only  with  design  to  make 
their  career  a  little  slower ;  yea,  and  they  are  apt,  rather 
than  hearken,  to  put  opprobrious  names  and  characters 
upon  them  that  are  not  altogether  so  furious  as  them- 
selves. 

Nor  have  they  themselves  the  patience  to  consider  con- 
sequences, and  whither  these  things  tend ;  i.  e.  that  God 
is  provoked,  that  the  souls  of  men  are  endangered,  greatly 
endangered.  I  have  found  in  my  own  conversation,  that 
some,  even  in  distress,  in  agonies,  have  said,  "Lord,  be 
merciful  to  us,  I  know  not  which  way  to  go;  onepreacbes 


THE  CARNALITY  OF  RELIGIOUS  CONTENTION. 


471 


one  thing,  another  preaches  the  quite  contrary."  I  know 
they  mistake ;  we  do  generally  in  substance  preach  the 
same  Gospel.  Thanks  be  to  God,  his  Gospel  is  not  con- 
fined to  a  few  men,  or  to  this  or  that  party  of  men.  But, 
in  the  mean  time,  it  is  a  thing  of  very  ill  consequence  to 
lay  stumbling-blocks  before  the  blind,  bars  and  obstructions 
in  the  way  of  the  weak  and  ihe  lame,  whereby  they  may  be 
turned  out  of  the  way,  who  should  rather  be  strengthened. 
It  is  not  considered,  that  where  the  danger  is  less  of  an 
utter  ruin  to  the  souls  of  men,  there  is,  however,  occa- 
sioned a  great  languor  and  enfeeblement.  They  should 
be  considered  and  treated,  not  only  as  being  weak,  but  lest 
they  should  be  made  so.  When  they  are  diverted  from  the 
proper  means  of  improvement  and  growth,  and  their  minds 
are  alienated  from  those  means,  being  otherwise  engaged, 
an  ill  habit  is  contracted  ;  and  when  the  distemper  hath 
seized  some,  it  spreads,  and  soon  infects  more.  Nutriment 
is  dispensed  from  the  head  through  the  body,  by  the  co- 
operation of  the  several  parts,  as  those  texts,  Eph.  iv.  IG. 
Col.  ii.  19.  do  with  great  emphasis  and  elegancy  speak. 
Understand  it  so,  that  how  far  soever  there  is  or  ought  to 
be  actual  communion,  every  limb  and  joint  contributes 
something  to  the  strength  and  vigour  of  the  rest.  So  is 
nourishment  ministered  and  spreads  itself  in  the  body  to 
its  edifying  itself  in  love  :  which  love  if  it  fail,  a  univer- 
sal languor  cannot  but  ensue,  the  free  circulation  of  vital 
spirits  being  obstructed  and  stopped.  And  those  that  are 
most  sensible,  if  they  be  not  so  much  otherwise  damnified, 
cannot,  when  they  observe  it,  but  be  grieved,  and  take  it 
bitterly  to  heart,  when  the  tokens  appear  to  their  view  of 
a  general  decay.  The  living  members  of  any  body  are 
pained,  when  the  body  is  wasted  and  rent ;  dead  or  stupi- 
fied  and  benumbed  members  feel  it  not,  are  unapprehen- 
sive. But  above  all,  it  ought  to  be  considered,  (and  how 
little  is  it !)  that  the  Holy  Spirit  is  grieved,  and  doth  (as  we 
may  fear  it  will  more)  sensibly  retire:  the  Gospel  in  which 
it  is  wont  to  breathe  is  trifled  with  ;  the  glorious  Gospel, 
the  Gospel  of  the  grace  of  God,  (can  men  find  nothing  else 
to  play  with,)  by  which  that  blessed  Spirit  hath  begotten 
many  a  soul  to  God,  and  nourished  them  unto  life  eternal. 
That  precious  thing  designed  for  so  great  and  sacred  pur- 
poses, (as  pampered  wanton  children  do  with  their  food,) 
they  dally  with,  or  quarrel  about  it,  or  squander  and 
throw  it  away.  How  can  this  but  offend  1  The  self-pro- 
cured distempers  which  did  precede,  and  those  that  ensue, 
mcrease  the  offence.  When  'tis  said,  Eph.  iv.  30.  Grieve 
not  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God — and  presently  subjoined,  ver. 
31.  Let  all  bitterness,  and  wrath,  and  anger,  and  clamour, 
and  evil-speaking,  be  put  away.  Is  it  not  left  to  us  to  col- 
lect, that  these  things  do  more  peculiarly  grieve  the  Spi- 
rit ;  thai  Spirit  of  grace,  of  all  love,  goodness,  sweetness, 
and  benignity  1  There  is  but  one  body,  and  one  Spirit,  a  spi- 
rit that  spreads  vital  influence  in  the  body.  What  can  you 
think  of  that  Spirit  that  feels  every  where  1  that  is  in  the 
body  a  universal  sentient  1  How  can  that  Spirit  but  be 
grieved  1  Passion  it  is  not  capable  of,  but  just  and  sedate 
displicency,  that  matters  should  be  so.  How  should  any 
of  us  like  it  to  have  our  living  body  torn  limb  from  limb, 


and  part  from  part !  Though  Avith  him  real  commotion 
and  disturbance  can  have  no  place,  intellectual  resent- 
ment is  infinitely  greater  and  deeper  than  we  can  either 
feel  or  conceive. 

But  where  this  angry,  tumefied,  proud  flesh  is  the  go- 
verning thing,  none  of  these  tremendous  consequences  or 
considerations,  while  it  is  so,  take  any  place.  The  litigious 
quarrelsome  genius  will  throw  off  all,  will  find  no  lei.^^ure 
or  room  for  a  calm  thought:  but  though  the  course  in 
which  we  are  engaged  should  be  ready  to  set  on  fire  the 
whole  course  of  nature,  will  be  still  for  casting  abroad 
firebrands,  and  arrows,  and  death  ;  and  make  us  think  this 
fine  sport !  If  indeed  there  were  room  for  any  cooler 
thoughts,  one  would  think  such  as  these  should  not  lie  re- 
mote. How  little  any  of  us  know,  or  are  capable  of  know- 
ing, in  this  our  present  state  !  that  they  that  tliink  they 
know  most,  or  are  most  conceited  of  their  own  knowledge, 
know  nothing  as  they  ought  to  know ;  that  they  that  are 
most  apt  to  contend,  do  most  of  all  fight  in  the  dark;  that 
it  is  too  possible  there  may  be  much  knowledge  without 
love;  how  little  such  knowledge  is  worth !  that  it  profits 
nothing;  that  it  hurts,  puffs  up,  when  love  edifies  ;  that  the 
devils  knowmore  than  any  of  us,  while  their  want  of  love, 
or  their  hellish  malignity,  makes  them  devils  ;  that  as  by 
pride  comes  contention,  so  humility  would  contribute  more 
to  peace,  (and  to  the  discerning  of  truth  too,)  than  the  most 
fervent  disceptation ;  that  there  is  no  hope  of  proselyting  the 
world  to  my  opinion  or  way  ;  that  if  I  cannot  be  quiet  till 
I  have  made  such  and  such  of  my  mind,  I  shall  still  be  un- 
quiet if  others  are  not  of  it,  i.  e.  alwaj-s  ;  that  if  some  one's 
judgment  must  be  a  standard  to  the  world,  there  are  thou- 
sands fitter  for  it  than  mine ;  that  they  that  in  their  angry 
contests  think  to  shame  their  adversary,  do  commonly 
most  of  all  shame  themselves. 

But  to  close  all,  I  pray  let  us  consider,  we  are,  pro- 
fessedly, going  to  heaven,  that  region  of  light,  and  life,  and 
purity,  and  love.  It  well,  indeed,  becomes  them  that  are 
upon  the  way  thither,  modestly  to  inquire  after  truth. 
Humble,  serious,  diligent  endeavours  to  increase  in  Divine 
knowledge,  are  very  suitable  to  our  present  state  of  dark- 
ness and  imperfection.  The  product  of  such  inquiries  we 
shall  carry  to  heaven  with  us,  with  whatsoever  is  most  akin 
thereto  (besides  their  usefulness  in  the  way  thither.)  We 
shall  carry  truth  and  the  knowledge  of  God  to  heaven 
with  us  ;  we  shall  carry  purity  thither,  devotedness  of  soul 
to  God  and  our  Redeemer,  Divine  love  and  joy,  if  we 
have  their  beginnings  here,  with  whatsoever  else  of  real 
permanent  excellencj',  that  hath  a  settled,  fixed  seat  and 
place  in  our  souls  now;  and  shall  there  have  them  in  per- 
fection. But  do  we  think  we  shall  carry  strife  to  heaven  1 
Shall  we  carry  anger  to  heaven  1  en^yings,  heart-burn- 
ings, animosities,  enmities,  hatred  of  our  brethren  and  fel- 
low-Christians, shall  we  carry  these  to  heaven  with  us  1 

Let  us  labour  to  divest  ourselves,  and  strike  off  from  our 
spirits  every  thing  that  shall  not  go  with  us  to  heaven,  or 
is  equally  unsuitable  to  our  end  and  way,  that  there  may 
be  nothing  to  obstruct  and  hinder  our  abundant  entrance 
at  length  mto  the  everlasting  kingdom. 


A   SERMON 


CONCERNING 


UNION    AMONG   PROTESTANTS: 


A  DISCOURSE  ANSWERING  THE  FOLLOWING  aUESTION, 


'WHAT  MAY  MOST  HOPEFULLY    BE  ATTEMPTED  TO  ALLAY  ANIMOSITIES  AMONG  PROTESTANTS,  THAT  OUR  DIVISIONS 

MAY  NOT  BE  OUR  RUIN  3" 


COLOSS.  II.  3. 

THAT  THEIR  HEARTS  MIGHT  BE  COMFORTED,  BEING  KNIT  TOGETHER  IN  LOVE,  AND  UNTO  ALL  RICHES  OF  THE  FULL  ASSURANCE  OF 
UNDERSTANDING,  TO  THE  ACKNOWLEDGMENT  OF  THE  MYSTERY  OF  GOD,  AND  OF  THE  FATHER,  AND  OP  CHRIST. 


This  question  is  propounded  to  me  ;  "  What  may  most 
hopefully  be  attempted  to  allay  animosities  among  prot- 
estants,  that  our  divisions  may  not  be  our  ruin  1"  I  must 
here,  in  the  first  place,  tell  you  how  I  understand  this  ques- 
tion. 1.  As  to  the  end,,  the  preventing  our  ruin  ;  I  take 
the  meaning  chiefly  to  be,  not  the  ruin  of  our  estates,  trade, 
houses,  families;  not  our  ruin,  in  these  respects,  who  are 
Christians,  but  our  ruin  as  we  are  Christians,  i.  c.  the  ruin 
of  our  Christianity  itself,  or  of  the  truly  Christian  interest 
among  us.  2.  As  for  the  means  inquired  after,  I  under- 
stand not  the  question  to  intend,  what  is  to  be  done  or  at- 
tempted by  laws,  and  public  constitutions,  as  if  our  busi- 
ness were  to  teach  our  absent  rulers,  or  prescribe  to  them 
Avhat  they  should  do,  to  whom  we  have  no  present  call,  or 
opportunity,  to  apply  ourselves.  Nor  again  can  it  be  thought 
our  business,  to  discuss  the  several  questions  that  are  con- 
troverted among  us,  and  show,  in  each,  what  is  the  truth 
and  right,  wherewith  every  man's  conscience  ought  to  be 
satisfied,  and  in  which  we  should  all  meet  and  unite  :  as  if 
we  had  the  vanity  to  think  of  performing,  by  an  hour's 
discourse,  what  the  voluminous  writings  of  some  ages  have 
not  performed.  Much  less  are  we  to  attempt  the  persuad- 
ing of  any  to  go  against  an  already  formed  judgment  in 
these  points  of  difference,  for  the  sake  of  union ;  and  to 
seek  the  peace  of  the  church,  by  breaking  their  peace  with 
God  and  their  own  consciences. 

But  I  take  the  question  only  to  intend,  what  serious 
Christians  may,  and  ought,  to  endeavour,  in  their  private 
capacities,  and  agreeably  with  their  own  principles,  to- 
wards the  proposed  end.  And  so  I  conceive  the  words 
read  to  you,  contain  the  materials  of  a  direct  and  full  an- 
swer to  the  question.  Which  I  reckon  will  appear, — by 
opening  the  case  the  apostle's  words  have  reference  to ; 
that  will  be  found  a  case  like  our  own  ;  and — by  opening 
the  words,  whereby  their  suitableness  to  thai  case  will  be 
seen,  and  consequently  to  our  case  also. 

1.  The  case  which  these  words  have  reference  to  (as  in- 
deed the  general  aspect  of  the  epistle,  and  in  great  part  of 
the  other  apostolical  letters,  looks  much  the  same  way)  was 
in  short  this  :  That  a  numerous  sect  was  already  sprung 
up,  that  began  (so  early)  to  corrupt  the  simplicity  and 
a  Clemens  Aloxandr  ,  Irenaeus,  EpiphaniuB^&c. 


purity  of  the  Christian  religion,  and  very  much  to  disturb 
the  peace  of  the  Christian  church.  A  sort  they  were  of 
partly  judaizing,  partly  paganizing  Christians,  the  disci- 
ples, as  they  are  reputed,  of  Simon  Magus,  who  joined 
with  the  name  Christian  the  rites  and  ceremonies  of  the 
Jews,  with  the  impurities  (even  in  worship)  of  the  Gen- 
tiles, denying  the  more  principal  doctrines,  and  hating  the 
holy  design  of  Christianity  itself,  while  they  seemed  to 
have  assumed,  or  to  retain,  the  name,  as  it  were  on  pur- 
pose the  more  effectually  to  wound  and  injure  the  Chris- 
tian cause  and  interest.  Men  of  high  pretence  to  know- 
ledge, (whence  they  had  the  title  of  gnostics,)  filched  partly 
from  the  Jewish  cabbalism,  partly  from  the  Pythagorean. 
By  which  pretence  they  insinuated  the  more  plausibly 
with  such  as  affected  the  knowledge  of  more  hidden  mys- 
teries. Whereto  the  apostle  seems  tu  have  reference, 
where  he  adds  immediately  after  the  text,  that  in  Christ 
were  hid  all  the  treasures  of  wisdom  and  knowledge,  ver. 
3.  And  says,  he  did  purposely  add  it,  lest  any  man  should 
beguile  them  with  enticing  words  ;  intimating,  there  was 
no  need  to  follow  those  vain  pretenders,  out  of  an  affecta- 
tion of  sublimer  knowledge,  and  forsake  Christ  in  whom 
all  the  treasures  of  wisdom  and  knowledge  were  hid. 

Of  the  progress  and  genius  of  this  sect,  not  only  .some  of 
the  fathers  of  the  church  give  an  account,"  but  even  a 
noted  philosopher  b  among  the  heathens,  who  writes  pro- 
fessedly against  them,  (though  not  a  word  against  Chris- 
tians a.s  such,)  both  making  it  his  business  to  refute  their 
absurd  doctrines,  (that  the  world  was  in  its  nature  evil, 
and  not  made  by  God,  but  by  some  evil  angel,  &c.)  and  re- 
presenting them  as  men  of  most  immoral  principles  and 
practices ;  worse,  both  in  respect  of  their  notions  and 
morals,  than  Epicurus  himself.  It  appears  this  sort  of 
men  did,  in  the  apostles'  days,  not  only  set  themselves, 
with  great  art  and  industry,  to  pervert  as  many  professors 
of  Christianity  as  they  could,  but  found  means  (as  they 
might  by  their  compliances  with  the  Jews,  who  were  then 
much  spread,  and  numerously  seated  in  sundry  principal 
cities  under  the  Roman  power,  and  who  were  every  where 
the  bitterest  enemies  to  Christianity)  to  raise  persecution 
against  them  they  could  not  pervert,  which  some  pass.ig<  s 
b  Plotinus  Ennead  ?.  L  9. 


CONCERNING  UNION  AMONG  PROTESTANTS. 


473 


seem  to  intimate  in  tlie  epistle  to  the  Galatians,  (who,  as 
tliat  whole  epistle  shows,  were  much  leavened  by  this  sect, 
insomuch  that  the  apostle  is  put  to  travail  as  in  birth  again 
to  have  Christ  formed  in  them,  and  to  reduce  them  back 
to  sincere  Christianity,)  viz.  that  some  leaders  of  this  sect 
so  set  the  people's  minds  even  against  the  apostle  himself, 
that  he  began  to  be  reputed  by  them  as  an  enemy,  (chap. 
iv.  16.)  and  was  persecuted  under  that  notion,  because  he 
would  not  comply  with  them  in  the  matter  of  circumcision, 
(urged  as  an  engagement  to  the  whole  law  of  Moses,) 
chap.  v.  11.  If  I  yet  preach  circumcision,  why  do  I  yet 
suffer  persecution"?  then  is  the  offence  of  the  cross  ceased. 
And  that  they  were  as  mischievous  as  they  could  be,  to 
fellow-Christians,  on  the  same  account,  biting  and  de- 
vouring them  that  received  not  their  corrupting  additions 
to  Christianity,  as  the  circumstances  of  the  text  show, 
ver.  15. 

How  like  a  case  this  is  to  ours,  with  our  popish  ene- 
mies, I  need  not  tell  j'^ou.  And  now  in  this  case ;  when 
the  faith  of  many  was  overthrown,  so  much  hurt  was  al- 
ready done,  and  the  danger  of  greater  was  so  manifest, 
partly  by  the  most  insinuating  methods  of  seduction,  parth' 
by  the  terror  of  persecution,  the  great  care  was  to  secure 
the  uncorrupted  residue,  and  preserve  unextinct  the  true 
Christian  interest. 

The  urgency  of  this  case  puis  the  solicitous,  concerned 
spirit  of  this  great  apostle  into  an  inexpressible  agony,  as 
his  words  do  intimate :  I  would  you  knew  what  conflict 
I  have,  and  not  for  these  Colossians  only,  but  for  them  of 
Laodicea,  (which  was  not  very  remote  from  Colosse,)  and 
for  as  many  as  have  not  seen  my  face  in  the  flesh :  for  it 
was  a  common  case,  and  upon  him  lay  the  care  of  all  the 
churches.  So  that  hence  his  musing,  meditative  mind, 
could  not  but  be  revolving  many  thoughts,  and  casting 
about  for  expedients,  how  the  threatening  danger  might 
be  obviated  and  averted.  And  these  in  the  text,  which  he 
fastens  upon,  and  wherein  his  thoughts  centre,  how  apt 
and  proper  they  were  to  that  case  (and  consequently  to 
ours  which  so  little  differs)  will  be  seen, 

2.  By  our  opening  and  viewing  the  import  of  the  text 
itself:  Wherein  he, 

1.  Proposes  to  himself  the  end  which  he  apprehended 
was  most  desirable,  and  above  all  things  to  be  coveted  for 
them;  That  their  hearts  might  be  comforted.  A  word  of 
much  larger  signification  than  in  vulgar  acceptation  it  is 
understood  to  be.  Ylapa\a'\Fi,>  signifies  (with  profane  as 
well  as  the  sacred  writers)  not  only  to  administer  consola- 
tion to  a  grieved  mind,  but  to  exhort,  quicken,  excite,  and 
animate,  to  plead  and  strive  with  dull  and  stupid,  waver- 
ing and  unresolved,  minds.  It  was  thought  indeed  com- 
prehensive enough  to  express  all  the  operations  of  the  Di- 
vine Spirit  upon  the  souls  of  men,  when  not  only  the 
Christian  chur  h,  but  the  world,  yet  to  be  Christianized, 
was  to  be  the  subject  of  them,  as  we  see,  John  xvi.  8.  In 
respect  whereof  that  Holy  Spirit  hath  its  name  of  office, 
Ihe  paraclete,  from  this  word.  And  it  being  the  passive 
that  is  here  used,  it  signifies  not  only  the  endeavours  them- 
selves, which  are  used  to  the  purpose  here  intended,  but 
the  effect  of  them  wherein  they  all  terminate,  a  lively,  vi- 
gorous, confirmed  state  and  habit  of  soul:  and  that  not  in- 
definite, but  determined  to  one  thing,  the  Christian  faith 
and  profession,  which  the  apostle's  drift  and  scope  plainly 
show.  'Tis  not  to  be  tliovight,  he  so  earnestly  coveted  and 
strove,  that  they  might  be  jocund,  cheerful,  abounding 
with  joy  and  courage,  in  any  course,  right  or  wrong;  hnt 
that  they  might  be  encouraged,  established,  confirmed  in 
their  Christianity.  And  if  the  word  he  here  uses  were 
large  enough  to  signify  (as  was  noted  above)  all  that  was 
necessary  to  make  men  Christians,  it  may  as  well,  all  that 
is  necessary  to  continue  them  such. 

In  short,  the  end  which  the  apostle  aims  at,  the  rrapaicXiio-ic 
intended  to  these  Christians,  was  their  establishment  and 
confirmed  state  in  their  Christianity,  as  the  effect  of  all 
apostolical  or  ministerial  exhortations,  persuasions,  en- 
couragements, or  any  whatsoever  endeavours;  made  effi- 
cacious to  that  purpose  by  the  powerful  influence  and  ope- 
ration of  the  Holy  Ghost.  And  that  it  was  no  lower  thing 
than  this,  we  have  sufficient  evidence,  by  comparing  the 
close  of  the  foregoing  chapter  with  the  beginning  of  this. 
Where  we   find,  chap.  i.  28.  the  avowed  design  of  his 


preaching,  warning,  and  teaching  in  all  wisdom,  was  that 
he  might  present  every  man  perfect  in  Christ  Jesus.  That 
whereas  there  were  various  arts  and  endeavours  used,  to 
adulterate  the  Christian  religion,  and  pervert  men  from 
the  simplicity  of  it,  he  might  lose  none,  but  to  his  very  ut- 
termost keep  all  in  a  po.ssibility  of  being  presented  perfect 
in  Christ  Jesus  at  la.st,  i.  e.  that  they  might  be  all  entire, 
complete,  and  persevering  Christians  to  the  end.  And  for 
this  he  adds,  ver.  29.  he  did  labour,  striving  according  to 
his  working,  which  wrought  in  him  mightily.  All  his  la- 
bour, and  the  strivings  of  his  .soul,  acted  by  Divine  power, 
and  by  a  Spirit  greater  than  his  own,  did  aim  at  this  end. 
And  now  hereupon  he  intimates  how  fervid  these  his  stri- 
vings were,  chap.  ii.  1.  I  would  you  did  but  know  (what 
it  is  not  for  me  to  say)  fi\iKov  dywva,  what  an  agomi  I  en- 
dure !  how  great  this  my  conflict  is  for  you,  and  for  them 
at  Laodicea,  and  for  as  many  as  have  not  seen  my  face  in 
the  flesh  !  And  for  what  1  That  their  hearts  might  be 
comforted,  (as  we  read,)  meaning  manifestly  the  same 
thing  he  had  expressed  before;  that  notwithstanding  all 
endeavouis  of  others  to  the  contrary,  they  might  be  com- 
plete and  confirmed  Christians  to  the  la.sL 

2.  We  have  next  to  consider  in  the  text  the  means  or 
what  expedients  the  apostle  conceives  would  be  most 
effectually  conducing  to  this  ble.ssed  purpose.  The}'  are 
two, — mutual  love  to  one  another; — and  a  clear,  certain, 
efficacious  faith  of  the  Gospel.  The  former  is  shortly  and 
plainly  expressed ;  the  other  by  a  copious  and  most  em- 
phatical  periphrasis,  or  circundocution.  He  most  carnest- 
1}'  covets  to  have  them  knit  together  hj-both  i7Vj'i3t,'iaaBivnn., 
compacted,  as  the  word  imports,  in  the  one  iv  dyaTti], 
and  unto  or  into  the  other,  as  that  particle  signifies  sis 

vavra,  &C. 

1.  Mutual  love  to  one  another:  g.  d.  The  thing  were 
done,  or  much  were  done  towards  it,  if  they  were  knit  to- 
gether in  love,  compacted,  made  all  of  a  piece,  if  by  love 
they  did  firmly  cohere,  and  cleave  to  one  another  :  for  then 
it  would  be  one  and  all  :  and  'tis  scarce  ever  supp<isabie 
they  should  all  agree  to  quit  their  religion  at  once.  But  if 
that  were  to  be  supposed,  he  adds  another  thing  that  would 
put  all  out  of  doubt. 

2.  A  clear,  certain,  efficacious  faith  of  the  Gospel.  For 
the  several  expressions  that  follow  are  but  a  description 
of  such  a  faith.  Where  we  are  to  note, — what  he  would 
have  them  apprehend, — and  the  apprehensive  principle. 

1.  What  he  would  have  them  apprehend:  viz.  the  sum 
and  substance  of  the  Christian  doctrine,  which  he  calls  a 
m^'stery,  both  because  it  was  so  in  itself,  and  'tis  often 
spoken  of  under  that  name,  by  our  Lord  himself,  MatL 
xiii.  11.  and  familiarly  by  this  apostle,  Rom.  xvi.  25. 
Ephes.  iii.  3,  9.  Col.  i.  26.  and  elsewhere;  and  because  of 
the  high  pretence  of  the  gnostics  to  the  knowledge  of  mys- 
teries which  sometimes  he  slights;  especially  being  un- 
accompanied with  love,  as,  with  them,  it  most  eminently 
was.  Though  I  understand  all  mysteries,  and  all  know- 
ledge, and  have  no  charity,  I  am  nothing,  1  Cor.  xiii.  2. 
Knowledge  puflerh  up,  love  edifies,  chap.  viii.  1.  Some- 
times, as  here,  he  makes  the  sincere  doctrine  of  the  Gospel 
to  outvie  theirs  herein,  intimating  that  such  as  made  prc^ 
fession  of  it  could  have  no  temptation  to  go  over  to  them 
for  the  knowledge  of  mysteries,  (unless  a  mysters'  of  in- 
iquity were  more  pleasing  to  them,)  whose  very  religion 
was  that  great  mystery  of  godliness.  God  was  manifest- 
ed in  the  flesh,  justified  in  the  Spirit,  seen  of  angels,  preach- 
ed unto  the  Gentiles,  believed  on  in  the  world,  received  up 
into  glory,  1  Tim.  iii.  16. 

Now  this  mystery  he,  first,  more  generally  characterizes, 
by  calling  it  ihe  mystery  of  God,  a  divine  mystery,  not 
made  one  by  merely  human  fiction;  and  then  he  very 
distinctly  specifies  it  in  the  following  words,  and  of  the 
Father,  and  of  Christ.  Where  the  former  and  needs  not 
be  thought  copulative,  but  exegetical.  and  might  be  read 
even,  or  to  irit ;  or  it  may  be  read,  both,  as  'tis  usual  with 
the  Greeks  as  well  as  Latins  when  the  copirlative  is  to  be 
repeated,  so  to  read  the  former.  As  if  it  were  said.  By 
the  mvstery  of  God  I  mean,  not  of  God  alone,  and  ab- 
stractedly considered  ;  as  if  it  were  enmrgh  to  you  to  be 
mere  deists ;  and  that  the  whole  superadded  revelation 
concerningthe  Mediator,  might  be  looked  upon  with  indif- 
ferency  or  neglect ;  (as  by  tlie  gnostics  it  was  known  then 


CONCERJNING  UNION  AMONG  PROTESTANTS. 


to  be,  and  afterwards  by  some  of  their  great  leaders,  in  the 
substance  of  it,  with  downright  hatred  and  opposition ;) 
but  that  which  I  so  earnestly  covet  for  you,  and  wherein  I 
would  have  you  unite,  and  be  all  one,  in  the  acknowledg- 
ment of  the  whole  mystery  of  God ;  i.  e.  both  of  the  Father 
and  of  Christ. 

2.  The  apprehensive  principle ;  which  we  may,  by  a 
general  name,  call  faith,  and  accommodately  enough  to 
the  name  here  given  us  of  its  objects,  a  mystery  which  is 
elsewhere  called  the  mystery  of  faith,  (1  Tim.  iii.  9.)  or  a 
mystery  to  be  believed :  faith  being  the  known  principle 
of  receiving  the  Gospel  revelation.  But  he  here  expresses 
it  by  words  that  signify  knowledge,  avvcats  and  cTriyvoxris, 
thereby  intimating  that  "the  faith  of  Christians  is  not  to  be 
a  blind  and  unintelligent  principle,  but  that  though  there 
were  contained  in  the  Gospel  mysteries  never  to  be  under- 
stood, if  God  had  not  afforded  a"  special  revelation  of  them 
on  purpose ;  yet  being  revealed,  we  ought  to  have  a  clear 
and  distinct,  as  well  as  lively  and  practical,  perception  of 
them.  By  these  two  words,  and  the  other  expressions  he 
joins  in  with  the  former,  he  seems  to  intimate  two  sorts  of 
properties  which  belong  to  that  faith  of  the  Gospel  which 
he  wishes  to  them. 

1.  The  rectitude,  clearness,  and  certainty  of  notion. 

2.  The  efficacy,  impressiveness,  and  immediate  aptitude 
to  have  influence  upon  practice,  which  he  would  have  it 
carry  with  it.  The  latter  properties  supposing  and  de- 
pending on  the  former,  he  there  highly  exaggerates  the 
matter,  and  heaps  together  expressions  that  might  with 
most  lively  emphasis  set  forth  the  kind  of  that  knowledge 
which  he  conceives  would  be  of  so  great  use  to  them. 
He  wishes  them  a  crivean,  a  clear,  perspicacious  knowledge, 
and  an  assurance,  even  to  a.  plerophory,  a  fulness  of  assuT- 
ance,  in  their  knowledge  of  the  truth  of  the  Gospel.  Yea 
he  wishes  them  the  riches,  irXov-ov,  yea  and  all  riches,  vavra 
rrXovTov  rm  n'Srjoocpopias,  of  that  full  assurance,  or  plcrophory 
of  understanding,  and  knowledge  of  that  truth  ;  apprehend- 
ing that  this  would  certainly  fix  them  in  their  faith  and 
profession,  so  as  they  would  never  recede  from  it.  As 
when  in  Christ's  own  days  many  went  back  and  walked 
no  more  with  him,  John  vi.  Gt).  that  which  retained  others, 
so  that  when  Christ  asks,  "Will  ye  also  go  awayl" 
(ver.  67.)  they  presently  answer,  "  Lord,  to  whom  shall  we 
go  V  could  entertain  no  such  thought,  was,  that,  besides 
what  they  believed  of  him  was  of  greatest  importance  to 
them.  Thou  hast  the  words  of  eternal  life,  ver.  68.  So 
their  belief  was  with  that  assurance  as  to  exclude  all 
suspicion  or  doubt  in  the  case :  And  we  believe  and  are 
sure  that  thou  art  that  Christ  the  Son  of  the  living  God, 
ver.  69.  and  therefore  neither  canst  want  power  to  confer 
eternal  life,  as  all  thy  words  do  import  thy  design  and 
promise  to  do,  nor  truth  to  make  good  thy  own  plain 
words.  And  then  he  also  knew  that  such  a  avvecn;  or 
Tcnoivlcdge  would  produce,  what  he  further  wishes  them, 
an  £7ri'yi/(oo-i f ,  and  acknmded gmcnt,  an  inward,  vital  owning, 
a  cordial  embrace,  a  livelj''  perception  of  the  same  blessed 
truths,  which  must  needs  further  most  abundantly  contri- 
bute to  this  their  so  much  desired  joint  and  unanimous 
stability. 

And  now  these  are  the  two  expedients  by  which  he 
reckons  they  would  be  so  closely  compacted  together  as 
that  no  subtlety  or  violence  could  endanger  them;  mutual 
love,  and  a  clear,  certain,  operative  failh  of  the  Gospel; 
if,  b}'^  the  one,  they  did  cohere  with  each  other ;  and  by 
the  other,  adhere  to  God  in  Christ;  if  the  one  might  have 
with  them  tlie  place,  power,  and  bindingness  of  a  cement, 
the  other  of  a  continual  inclination,  yieldingness,  and  com- 
pliance to  the  magnetism  of  the  centre,  they  would  never 
so  fall  asunder,  as  to  give  any  enemies  opportunity  to  be 
the  successful  authors,  or  the  gratified  spectators,  of  their 
ruin.  Thus  therefore  I  would  sum  up  the  sense  of  this 
scripture,  and  the  answer  to  the  question  proposed. — "  That 
the  maintaining  of  sincere  love  among  Christians,  and  the 
impro\"ing  cf  their  faith  to  greater  measures  of  clearness, 
certainty,  and  efficacy  in  reference  to  the  substantials  of 
Christianity,  are  to  be  endeavoured  as  the  best  means  to 
unite,  establish,  and  preserve  them,  against  such  as  design 
the  ruin  of  the  truly  Christian  interest." — The  case  was  at 
that  time  urging  and  iinportant.  A  great  and  numerous 
parly  was  formed,  of  such  as  did  nauseate  the  simplicity  of 


the  Christian  religion,  and  hate  the  true  design  of  it.  All 
the  care  was  what  course  was  most  proper  and  suitable  to 
preserve  the  rest.  And  you  see  what  was  then  thought 
most  proper.  Counsel  was  not  taken  to  this  effect,  (and 
therefore  Christians  in  a  private  capacity  should  not  covet 
to  have  it  so,)  "  Let  us  bind  them  by  certain  devised  pre- 
ter-evangelical  canons  to  things  never  thought  fit  to  be  en- 
joined by  Christ  himself,  severely  urge  the  strict  and  uni- 
form observance  of  them,  make  the  terms  of  Christian 
communion  straiter  than  he  ever  made  them,  add  new 
rituals  of  our  own  to  his  institutions,  and  cut  ofi"  from  us 
all  that  (never  so  conscientiously)  scruple  them."  No. 
this  was  the  practice  of  their  common  enemies,  and  it  was 
to  narrow  and  weaken  the  too  much  already  diminished 
Christian  interest.  The  order  mentioned  ver.  5.  might  be 
comely  enough,  without  things  that  were  both  unnecessary 
and  offensive. 

Nor  was  it  consulted  and  resolved  to  agitate  the  contro- 
versy about  this  power  and  practice,  in  perpetual,  endless 
disputations,  and  stigmatize  them  that  should  not  be  en- 
lightened and  satisfied  in  these  matters,  as  schismatical 
and  wilful :  though  they  never  so  sincerely  adhered  to  the 
doctrine,  and  observed  the  laws,  of  Christ,  i.  e.  'twas  neither 
thought  fit  to  urge  the  unsatisfied  upon  doubtful  things 
against  their  consciences,  nor  to  take  order  that  continual 
endeavours  should  be  u.sed  from  age  to  age  to  satisfy  them, 
or  that  the  church  should  be  always  vexed  with  vain  con- 
troversies about  needless  things ;  that,  if  they  were  never 
so  lawful,  might  as  well  be  let  alone,  without  detriment  to 
the  Christian  cause,  and  perhaps  to  its  greater  advantage. 
Yea,  the  attempt  of  imposing  any  thing  upon  the  disciples 
but  wliat  was  necessary,  is  judged  a  tempting  of  God, 
(Acts  XV.  10.)  a  bringing  the  matter  to  a  trial  of  skill  with 
him,  whether  he  could  keep  the  church  quit,  when  they 
took  so  direct  a  course  to  distemper  and  trouble  it.  But 
it  was  thought  necessary,  and  sufficient,  that  all  did  unite, 
and  were  knit  together  in  the  mutual  love  of  one  another, 
and  in  a  joint  adherence  to  the  great  mysteries  of  faith  and 
salvation. 

In  the  same  case,  when  there  were  so  many  antichrists 
abroad,  and  (it  is  likely)  Ebion  with  his  partakers  made  it 
their  business  to  pervert  the  Christian  doctrine,  the  same 
course  is  taken  by  the  blessed  apostle  St.  John,  only  to 
endeavour  the  strengthening  of  these  two  vital  principles, 
faith  in  Christ  and  love  to  fellow-Christians,  as  may  be 
seen  at  large  in  his  epistles.  These  he  presses,  as  the  great 
commandments,  upon  the  observation  whereof  he  seems 
to  account  the  safety  and  peace  of  the  sincere  did  entirely 
depend.  This  is  his  commandment,  that  we  should  be- 
lieve on  the  name  of  his  Son  Jesus  Christ,  and  love  one 
another,  as  he  gave  us  commandment,  1  Epistle,  iii.  23. 
He  puts  upon  Christians  no  other  distinguishing  test,  but 
Whosoever  believeth  that  Jesus  is  the  Christ,  is  born  of 
God :  and  Eveiy  one  that  loveth  him  that  begat,  loveth 
him  also  that  is  begotten  of  him:  (chap.  v.  1.)  is  only 
solicitous  that  they  did  practise  the  commandment  they 
had  from  the  beginning,  i.  e.  that  they  loved  one  another, 
(2  Epist.  5.)  and  that  they  did  abide  in  the  doctrine  of 
Christ,  ver.  9. 

The  prudence  and  piety  of  those  unerring  guides  of  the 
church,  (themselves  under  the  certain  guidance  of  the 
Spirit  of  truth,)  directed  them  to  bring  the  things  wherein 
they  would  have  Christians  unite,  withm  as  narrow  a 
compass  as  was  possible,  neither  multiplying  articles  of 
faith  nor  rites  .of  worship.  These  two  principles  (as  they 
were  thought  to  answer  the  apostles)  would  fully  answer 
our  design  and  present  inquiry.  And  we  may  adventure 
to  say  of  them  that  they  are  both  sufficient  and  necessary, 
the  apt  and  the  only  means  to  heal  and  save  us ;  such  as 
would  effect  our  cure,  and  without  which  nothing  will. 

Nor  shall  I  give  other  answer  to  the  proposed  question, 
than  what  may  be  deduced  from  these  two,  considered  ac- 
cording to  what  the}^  are  in  themselves,  and  what  they 
naturally  lead  and  tend  unto.  I  shall  consider  them  in 
the  order  wherein  the  apostle  here  mentions  them,  who  you 
see  reserves  the  more  important  of  them  to  the  latter  place. 

\.  The  sincere  love  of  Christians  to  one  another,  would 
be  a  happy  means  of  preserving  the  truly  Christian  in- 
terest among  us.  That  this  may  be  understood,  we  must 
rightly  apprehend  what  kind  of  love  it  is  that  is  here  meant. 


CONCERNING  UNION  AMONG  PROTESTANTS. 


It  is  specified  by  what  we  find  in  conjunction  with  it,  the 
understanding  and  acknouiedginent  of  the  mystery  of 
Christianity.  Therefore  it  must  be  the  love  of  Christians 
to  one  another  as  such.  Whence  we  collect,  lest  we  too 
much  extend  the  object  of  it  ou  the  one  hand,  or  contract 
it  on  the  other, 

1.  That  it  is  not  the  love  only  which  we  owe  to  one 
another  as  men,  or  human  creatures  merely,  that  is  in- 
tended here.  That  were  too  much  to  enlarge  it,  as  to  our 
present  consideration  of  it.  For  under  that  common  no- 
tion, we  should  be  as  much  obliged  to  love  the  enemies  we 
are  to  unite  against,  as  the  friends  of  religion  we  are  to 
imite  with,  since  all  partake  equally  in  human  nature.  It 
must  be  a  more  special  love  that  shall  have  the  desired  in- 
fluence in  the  present  case.  We  cannot  be  peculiarly  en- 
deared and  united  to  some  more  than  to  others,  upon  a 
reason  that  is  common  to  them  with  others.  We  are  to 
love  them  that  are  born  of  God,  and  are  his  children,  other- 
wise than  the  children  of  men,  or  such  of  whom  it  may  be 
said  they  are  of  their  father  the  devil ;  them  that  appear 
to  have  been  partakers  of  a  Divine  nature  at  another  rate, 
than  them  who  have  received  a  mere  human,  or  also  the 
diabolical  nature,  1  John  v.  1.  Yet  this  peculiar  love  is 
not  to  be  exclusive  of  the  other  which  is  common,  but  must 
suppose  it,  and  be  superadded  to  it,  as  the  reason  of  it  is 
superadded.  For  Christianity  supposes  humanity ;  and 
Divine  grace,  human  nature. 

2.  Nor  is  it  a  love  to  Christians  of  this  or  that  party  or 
denomination  only.  That  were  as  much  unduly  to  straiten 
and  confine  it.  The  love  that  is  owing  to  Christians  as 
such,  as  it  belongs  to  them  only,  so  it  belongs  to  them  who, 
in  profession  and  practice,  do  own  sincere  and  incorrupt 
Christianity.  To  limit  our  Christian  love  to  a  party  of 
Christians,  truly  so  called,  is  so  far  from  serving  the  pur- 
pose now  to  be  aimed  at,  that  it  resists  and  defeats  it;  and 
instead  of  a  preservative  union,  infers  most  destructive  di- 
visions. It  scatters  what  it  should  collect  and  gather.  'Tis 
to  love  factiously ;  and  with  an  unjust  love,  that  refuses 
to  give  indifferently  to  every  one  his  due :  (for  is  there  no 
love  due  to  a  disciple  of  Christ  in  the  name  of  a  disciple  1) 
it  is  founded  in  falsehood,  and  a  lie,  denies  them  to  be  of 
the  Christian  communit)''  who  really  are  so.  It  presumes 
to  remove  the  ancient  land-marks,  not  civil,  but  sacred, 
and  draws  on,  not  the  people's  curse  only,  but  that  of  God 
himself.  'Tis  true  (and  who  doubts  if?)  that  1  may  and 
ought  upon  special  reasons  to  love  some  more  than  others; 
as  relation,  acquaintance,  obligation  by  favours  received 
from  them,  more  eminent  degrees  of  true  worth,  and  real 
goodness;  but  that  signifies  nothing  to  the  withholding  of 
that  love  which  is  due  to  a  Christian  as  such,  as  that  also 
ought  not  to  prejudice  the  love  I  owe  to  a  man,  as  he  is  a 
man. 

Nor  am  I  so  promiscuously  to  distribute  this  holy  love, 
as  to  place  it  at  random,  upon  every  one  that  thinks  it  con- 
venient for  him  to  call  himself  a  Christian,  though  I  ought 
to  love  the  very  profession,  while  I  know  not  who  sincerely 
make  it,  and  do  plainly  see  that  Jews  and  pagans  were 
never  worse  enemies  to  Christ  and  his  religion,  than  a 
great  part  of  the  Christian  world.  But  let  my  apprehen- 
sions be  once  set  right  concerning  the  true  essentials  of 
Christianity,  (whether  consisting  in  doctrinal  or  vital  prin- 
ciples,) then  will  my  love  be  duly  carried  to  all  in  whom 
thejf  are  found  under  one  common  notion,  which  I  come 
actually  to  apply  to  this  or  that  person,  as  particular  occa- 
sions do  occur.  And  so  shall  always  be  in  a  preparation 
of  mind,  actually  to  unite  in  Christian  love  with  every 
such  person,  whensoev^er  such  occasions  do  invite  me  to  it. 
And  do  we  now  need  to  be  told  what  such  an  impartial 
truly  Christian  love  would  do  to  our  common  preservation, 
and  to  prevent  the  ruin  of  the  Christian  interest  1 

I.  How  greatly  would  it  contribute  to  the  vigour  of  the 
Christian  life  !  For  so  we  should  all  equally  "  hold  the 
head,  from  which  all  the  body  by  joints  and  bands  having 
nourishment  ministered,  and  knit  together,  increaseth  with 
the  increase  of  God :"  as  afterwards  in  this  chapter,  ver. 
19.  Thus  (as  it  is  in  that  other  parallel  text  of  Scripture) 
speaking  the  truth  in  lore,  we  shall  grow  up  into  him  in 
all  things,  which  is  the  head,  even  Christ:  from  whom  the 
whole  body  fitly  joined  together,  and  compacted  by  that 
c  Seiit.  ad  Dur. 


475 

which  every  joint  supplieth,  according  to  the  effectual 
working  in  the  measure  of  every  part,  maketh  increase  of 
the  body,  unto  the  edifying  of  itself  in  love,  Eph.  iv.  15,  IG. 
Obstructions  that  hinder  the  free  circulation  of  blood  'and 
spirits,  do  not  more  certainly  infer  languishings  in  the  na- 
tural body,  than  the  want  of  such  a  diffusive  love  shuts  up 
and  shrivels  the  destitute  parts,  and  hinders  the  diffu.sioa 
of  a  nutritive  vital  influence,  in  the  body  of  Christ. 

2.  It  would  inspire  Christians  generally  with  a  sacred 
courage  and  fortitude,  when  thev  should  know,  and  even 
feel  themselves  knit  together  in  love.  How  doth  the  revolt 
of  any  con.siderable  part  of  an  army,  discourage  the  rest ! 
or  if  they  be  not  entire,  and  of  a  piece  !  Mutual  love  ani- 
mates them,  as  nothing  more,  when  they  are  prepared  to 
live  and  die  together,  and  love  hath  before  joined,  whom 
now,  their  common  danger  also  joins.  They  otherwise 
signify  but  as  so  many  single  persons,  each  one  but  caring 
and  contriving  how  to  shift  for  himself.  Love  makes  them 
significant  to  one  another.  So  as  that  ever)'  one  under- 
stands himself  to  be  the  common  care  of  all  the  rest.  It 
makes  Christians  tlie  more  resolute  in  their  adherence  to 
truth  and  goodness,  when  (from  their  not  doubted  love) 
they  are  sure  of  the  help,  the  counsels,  and  prayers  of  the 
Christian  community,  and  apprehend,  by  their  declining, 
they  shall  grieve  those  whom  they  love,  and  who  they 
know  love  them.  If  any  imagine  themselves  intended  to 
be  given  up.  as  sacrifices,  to  the  rage  of  the  common  enemy, 
their  hearts  are  the  apter  to  sink,  they  are  most  exposed  to 
temptations  to  prevaricate  ;  and  the  rest  will  be  apt  to  ex- 
pect the  like  usage  from  them,  if  themselves  be  reduced  tc 
the  like  exigency,  and  be  liable  to  the  same  temptations. 

3.  It  would  certainly,  in  our  present  case,  extinguish  or 
abate  the  so  contrary  unhallowed  fire  of  our  anger  and 
wrath  towards  one  another,  as  the  celestial  beams  do  the 
baser  culinary  fire,  which  burns  more  fervently  when  the 
sun  hath  less  power.  Then  would  debates,  if  there  mast 
beany,  be  managed  without  intemperate  heat.  We  should 
be  remote  from  being  angry  that  we  cannot  convey  our 
own  sentiments  into  another's  mind ;  which  when  we  are, 
our  business  is  the  more  remote;  we  make  ourselves  less 
capable  of  reasoning  aptly  to  convince,  and  (because  anger 
begets  anger,  as  love  doth  love)  render  the  other  less  su.s- 
ceptible  of  conviction.  Why  are  w-e  yet  to  learn  that  the 
wrath  of  man  worketh  not  the  righteousness  of  God  1 
What  is  gained  by  it?  So  little  doth  angry  contention 
about  small  matters  avail,  that  even  they  that  happen  to 
have  the  better  cause  lose  b\' it,  and  their  advantage  cantot 
recompense  the  damage  and  hurt  that  ensues  to  the  church 
and  to  themselves.  Our  famous  Davenant,<=  speaking  of 
the  noted  controversy  between  Stephen  Bishop  of  Rome, 
who,  he  says,  as  much  as  in  him  lay,  did  with  a  schismat- 
ical  spirit  tear  the  church,  and  Cyprian,  who  with  great 
lenity  and  Christian  charity  professes  that  he  would  not 
break  the  Lord's  peace  for  diversity  of  opinion,  nor  remove 
any  from  the  right  of  communion,  concludes  that  erring 
Cyprian  deserved  better  of  the  church  of  Christ  than  or- 
thodox Stephen.  He  thought  him  the  schismatic,  whom 
he  thought  in  the  ri2:ht,  and  that  his  orthodoxy  (as  it  was 
accompanied)  was  more  mischievous  to  the  church,  than, 
the  other's  error.  Nor  can  a  man  do  that  hurt  to  others, 
without  suffering  it  more  principally.  The  distemper  of  his 
own  spirit,  what  can  recompense  !  and  how  apt  is  it  to 
grow  in  him  ;  and,  while  it  grows  in  himself,  to  propagate 
itself  among  others  !  Whereupon,  if  the  want  of  love  hin- 
ders the  nourishment  of  the  body,  much  more  do  the  things, 
which,  when  it  is  wanting,  are  wont  to  fill  up  its  place. 
For  as  naturally  as  love  begets  love,  so  do  wrath,  en\-}', 
malice,  calumny,  beget  one  another,  and  spread  a  poison 
and  virulency  through  the  body,  which  necessarily  wastes 
and  tends  to  destroy  it.  How  soon  did  the  Christian 
church  cease  to  be  itself!  and  the  early  vigour  of  primitive 
Christianity  degenerate  into  insipid,  spiritless  formalit)', 
when  once  it  became  contentious  !  It  broke  into  parties, 
sects  multiplied,  animosities  grew  high,  and  the  grieved 
Spirit  of  love  retired  from  it!  which  is  grieved  by  nothing 
more  than  by  bitterness,  wrath,  anger,  &c.  as  the  connexion 
of  these  two  verses  intimates,  Eph.  iv.  30,  31.  Grieve  not 
the  Holv  Spirit  of  God,  wherebv  ye  are  sealeit  unto  tha 
day  of  "redemption.     Let  all  bitterness,  and  wrath,  anc 


476 


CONCERNING  UNION  AMONG  PROTESTANTS. 


anger,  and  clamour,  and  evil  speaking,  be  put  away  from 
you,  with  all  malice.  And  to  the  same  purpose  is  that, 
1  Pet.  ii.  1,  2.  Wherefore  laying  aside  all  malice,  and  all 
guile,  and  hypocrisies,  and  envies,  and  all  evil  speakings, 
as  new-born  babes  desire  the  sincere  milk  of  the  word, 
that  ye  may  grow  thereby.  By  this  means  religion,  once 
dispirited,  loses  its  majesty  and  awfulness,  and  even  tempts 
and  invites  the  assaults  and  insultations  of  enemies. 

4.  It  would  oblige  us  to  all  acts  of  mutual  kindness  and 
friendship.  If  such  a  love  did  govern  in  us,  we  should  be 
always  ready  to  serve  one  another  in  love,  to  bear  each 
others'  burdens,  to  afford  our  mutual  counsel  and  help  to 
one  another,  even  in  our  private  affairs  if  called  thereto  ; 
e;specially  in  that  which  is  our  common  concern,  the  pre- 
serving and  promoting  the  interest  of  religion  ;  and  to  our 
uttermost  strengthen  each  others'  hands  herein.  It  would 
engage  us  to  a  free,  amicable  conversation  with  one  an- 
other, upon  this  account ;  would  not  let  us  do  so  absurd  a 
thing  as  to  confine  our  friendship  to  those  of  our  own 
party,  which  we  might  as  reasonably  to  men  of  our  own 
.stature,  or  to  those  whose  voice,  and  hair,  and  look,  and 
mien,  were  likest  our  own.  It  would  make  us  not  be 
ashamed  to  be  seen  in  each  others'  company,  or  be  shy  of 
owning  one  another.  We  should  not  be  to  one  another  as 
Jews  and  Samaritans  that  had  no  dealing  with  one  an- 
other, or  as  the  poet  notes  they  were  to  other  nations ; 
Non  monstrarc  vias  eadcm  7iisi  sacra  colenti,  Not  so  much,  as 
to  shoto  the  way  to  one  not  of  their  religion.  There  would 
be  no  partition-wall  through  which  love  would  not  easily 
open  a  way  of  friendly  commerce,  by  which  we  should 
insensibly  slide,  more  and  more,  into  one  anothers' 
hearts.     Whence  also, 

5.  Prejudices  would  cease,  and  jealousies  concerning 
each  other.  A  mutual  confidence  would  be  begotten. 
We  should  no  more  suspect  one  another  of  ill  designs 
upon  each  other,  than  lest  our  right  hand  should  wait  an 
opportunity  of  cutting  off  the  left.  We  should  believe  one 
another  in  our  mutual  professions,  of  whatsoever  sort, 
both  of  kindness  to  one  another,  and  that  we  really  doubt 
and  scruple  the  things  which  we  say  we  do. 

6.  This  would  hence  make  us  earnestly  covet  an  entire 
tinion  in  all  the  things  wherein  we  differ,  and  contribute 
greatly  to  it.  We  are  too  prone  many  times  to  dislike 
things,  for  the  disliked  persons'  sake  who  practise  them. 
And  a  prev^ailing  disaffection  makes  us  unapt  to  under- 
stand one  another ;  precludes  our  entrance  into  one  an- 
others' mind  and  sense  ;  which  if  love  did  once  open,  and 
inclined  us  more  to  consider  the  matters  of  difference 
themselves,  than  to  imagine  some  reserved  meaning  and 
design  of  the  persons  that  differ  from  us,  'tis  likely  we 
might  find  ourselves  much  nearer  to  one  another,  than  we 
did  apprehend  we  were;  and  that  it  were  a  much  easier 
step  for  the  one  side  to  go  quite  over  to  the  other.  But  if 
that  cannot  be, 

7.  It  would  make  us  much  more  apt  to  yield  to  one  an- 
other, and  abate  all  that  we  ever  can,  in  order  to  as  full  an 
accommodation  as  is  any  \vay  possible,  that  if  we  cannot 
agree  upon  cither  extreme,  we  might  at  least  meet  in  the 
middle.  It  would  cause  an  emulation  who  should  be 
larger  in  their  grants  to  this  purpose  ;  as  it  was  professed 
by  Luther  when  so  much  was  done  at  Marpurg  towards 
an  agreement  between  him  and  the  Helvetians,  that  he 
would  not  allow  that  praise  to  the  other  party  that  they 
should  be  more  desirous  of  peace  and  concord  than  he.  Of 
which  amicable  conference,  and  of  that  afterwards  at  Wit- 
tenburg,  and  several  other  negociations  to  that  purpose, 
account  is  given  by  a  divers;  and  insisted  on  by  some  of 
our  own  great  divines,  as  precedential  to  the  concord  they 
endeavoured  between  the  Saxon  and  the  Helvetian 
churches  of  later  time,  as  Bishop  Moreton,  Bishop  Hall, 
Bishop  Davenant,  in  their  several  sentences  or  judgments 
written  to  Mr.  Dury  upon  that  subject. 

And  indeed  when  I  have  read  the  pacific  writings  of 
those  eminent  worthies,  for  the  composing  of  those  differ- 
ences abroad,  I  could  not  but  wonder  that  the  same  peace- 
able spirit  did  not  endeavour  with  more  effect  the  compo- 
sing of  our  own  much  lesser  differences  at  home.  But  the 
things  of  our  peace  were  (as  they  still  are)  hid  from  our 

d  Hospinan.  Histor.  Sacramerilar.  Thuanus,  &c.  Though  by  Sculte- 
tus'8  account  that  pretence  was  too  little  aiiawcrcd. 


eyes,  with  the  more  visibly  just  severity,  by  liow  much 
they  have  been  nearer  us,  and  more  obvious  to  the  easy 
view  of  any  but  an  averse  eye.  It  is  not  for  us  to  pre- 
scribe (as  was  said)  to  persons  that  are  now  in  so  eminent 
stations  as  these  were  at  that  time.  But  may  we  not  hope 
to  find  with  such  (and  where  should  we  rather  expect  to 
find  it  1)  that  compassion  and  mercifulness  in  imitation  of 
the  blessed  Jesus,  their  Lord  and  ours,  as  to  consider  and 
study  the  necessities  of  souls  in  these  respects,  and  at 
least,  willingly  to  connive  at,  and  very  heartily  approve, 
some  indulgences  and  abatements  in  the  administrations 
of  the  inferior  clergy,  as  tliey  may  not  think  fit  themselves 
positively  to  order  and  enjoin  1  Otherwise  I  believe  it 
could  not  but  give  some  trouble  to  a  conscientious  con- 
forming minister,  if  a  sober  pious  person,  sound  in  the 
faith,  and  of  a  regular  life,  should  tell  him  he  is  willingto 
use  his  ministry,  in  some  of  the  ordinances  of  Christ,  if 
only  he  would  abate  or  dispense  with  some  annexed  cere- 
mony which  in  conscience  he  dare  not  use  or  admit  of  I 
believe  it  M^ould  trouble  such  a  minister  to  deal  with  a 
person  of  this  character  as  a  pagan  because  of  his  scruple, 
and  put  him  upon  considering  whether  he  ought  not  ra- 
ther to  dispense  with  man's  rule,  than  with  God's.  I  know 
what  the  same  Bishop  Davenant  hath  expressly  said,  that 
■^  "  He  that  believes  the  things  contained  in  the  apostle's 
creed,  and  endeavours  to  live  a  life  agreeable  to  the  pre- 
cepts of  Christ,  ought  not  to  be  expunged  from  the  roll  of 
Christians,  nor  be  driven  from  communion  with  the  other 
members  of  any  church  whatsoever."  However,  truly 
Christian  love  would  do  herein  all  that  it  can,  supplying 
the  rest  by  grief  that  it  can  do  no  more. 

8.  It  would  certainly  make  us  abstain  from  mutual  cen- 
sures of  one  another  as  insincere  for  our  remaining  differ- 
ences. Charily  that  thinks  no  evil,  would  make  us  not 
need  the  reproof,  Rom.  xiv.  4.  Who  art  thou  ihat  judgest 
another's  servant  1  The  common  aptness  hereunto  among 
us  shows  how  little  that  divine  principle  rules  in  our 
hearts,  that  in  defiance  of  our  rule  and  the  authority  of  the 
great  God  and  our  blessed  Redeemer,  to  whom  all  judg- 
ment is  committed,  and  who  hath  so  expressly  forbidden 
us  to  judge  lest  we  be  judged,  (Matt.  vii.  1.)  we  give  our- 
selves so  vast  a  liberty !  and  set  no  other  bounds  lo  our 
usurped  license  of  judging,  than  nature  hath  set  to  our 
power  of  thinking,  i.  e.  think  all  the  mischievous  thoughts 
of  them  that  differ  from  us  that  we  know  how  to  devi  e  or 
invent,  as  if  we  would  say,  "  Our  thoughts  (and  then  by 
an  easy  advance,  our  tongues)  are  our  own,  who  is  Lord 
over  us1"  I  animadvert  not  on  this  as  the  fault  of  one 
party,  but  wheresoever  it  lies,  as  God  knows  howdiffu.sed 
a  poison  this  is,  among  them  that  are  satisfied  with  the 
public  constitutions  towards  them  that  dissent  from  them, 
and  with  these  back  again  towards  them,  and  with  the  se- 
veral parties  of  both  these  towards  one  another.  This 
uniting,  knitting  love,  would  make  us  refrain,  not  merely 
from  the  restraint  of  God's  laws  in  this  case,  but  from  a 
benign  disposition,  as  that  which  the  temper  of  our  spirits 
would  abhor  from.  So  that  such  as  are  well  content  with 
the  public  forms  and  rites  of  worship,  would  have  no  in- 
clination to  judge  them  that  apprehend  not  things  with 
their  understandings,  nor  relish  with  their  taste,  as  persons 
that  therefore  have  cut  themselves  off  from  Christ,  and  the 
body  of  Christ.  They  might  learn  better  from  the  Cassan- 
drian  moderation,  and  from  the  avowed  sentiments  of  that 
man,  f  (whose  temper  is  better  to  be  liked  than  his  terms  of 
union,)  who  speaking  of  such  as  being  formerly  rejected 
(meaning  the  protestants)  for  finding  fault  with  abuses  in  the 
church,  had  by  the  urgencj'  of  their  conscience  altered 
somewhat  in  the  way  of  their  teaching,  and  the  form  of  their 
service,  and  are  therefore  said  to  have  fallen  off  from  the 
church,  and  are  numbered  among  heretics  and  schismatics. 
It  is,  saith  he,  to  be  inquired  how  rightly  and  justly  this  is 
determined  of  them.  For  there  is  to  be  consideretl,  as  to 
the  church,  the  head  and  the  body.  From  the  head  there 
is  no  departure  but  by  doctrine  disagreeable  to  Christ  the 
head;  from  the  body  there  is  no  departure  by  diversity 
of  rites  and  opinions,  but  only  by  the  defect  of  charity. 
So  that  this  learned  Romanist  neither  thinks  them  heretics 
that  hold  the  head,  nor  schismatics,  for  such  differences  as 

e  Ibid. 

fCassander  de  officio  pii  acpuhlicse  Tranquillitatis  vere  amantis  yiri. 


CONCERNING  UNION  AMONG  PROTESTANTS. 


477 


ours  are,  from  the  rest  of  the  body,  if  love  and  charil}' 
towards  them  remain.  And  a,2:ain,  where  this  love  remains, 
and  bears  rule,  it  can  as  liille  be,  that  they  who  are  un- 
satisfied with  the  way  of  worship  that  more  general]}'  ob- 
tains, should  censure  them  that  are  satisfied  as  insincere, 
merely  because  of  this  ditference.     It  cannot  permit  that 
we  should  think  all  the  black  thoughts  we  can  invent  of 
them,  as  if  because  they  have  not  our  consciences  they 
had  none,  or  because  they  see  not  with  our  eyes  they  were 
therefore  both  utterly   and  wilfully  blind.     To  be  here 
more  particular,  the  most,  you  know,  are  for  the  public 
way  of  worship;  and  of  these,  some  are  for  it  as  tolerable 
only,  others  as  the  best  way,  and  think  all  other  ways  of 
worshipping  God  in  assemblies  (being  fortjidden  as  they 
think  by  a  just  law)  sinful.     Others,  dissenting,  are  of 
several   sorts.     Some    think    the  conformity  required  of 
ministers  sinful,  because  of  previous  terms   required  of 
them  which  they  judge  to  be  so,  but  not  that  which  is  re- 
quired of  the  people.     Of  which  sort,  some  that  think  it 
not  simply  unlawful,  find  it  however  less  edifying  to  them, 
and  though  they  can  therefore  partake  in  it  at  some  times, 
think  themselves   more  ordinarily  bound  to  attend  such 
other  means  as  they  find  more  conducing  to  their  spiritual 
profit  and  advantage,  judging   they  have  an  undoubted 
right  from  Christ,  anciently  allowed  from  age  to  age  in  the 
best  times  of  the  Christian  church,  and  never  justly  taken 
from  them,  of  choosing  the  pastors  to  whose  ordinary  care 
and  conduct  they  shall  commit  their  souls.     Others  judge 
the  public   way   simply   imlawful,   and  therefore  judge 
themselves  bound  to  decline  it  wholh'';  and  are  the  more 
averse  to  any  participation  in  it,  as  apprehending  it  to  have 
no  suitableness  or  aptitude  to  profit  their  souls:  wherein 
they  are  the  more  confirmed,  that  they  believe  not  God 
will  ever  bless  the  means  which  he  hath  not  appointed. 
Now  how  apt  all  these  are  unto  very  severe  censures  of 
one  another,  he  knows  not  the  age,  that  is  ignorant.     One 
sort  censuring  the  other  as  humoursome,  factious,  schis- 
matical ;  the  others  them  back  again,  as  formal,  popishlj' 
affected,  destituteof  any  savour  of  spiritual  things,  having 
nothing  of  God  in  them,  or  of  the  life  and  power  of  god- 
liness. 

Now  is  this  suitable  to  the  love  that  should  rule  among 
Christians  1  or  to  the  reverence  we  ought  to  have  for  that 
authority  that  forbids  such  judging  1  It  ought  to  be  con- 
sidered both  that  all  have  not  the  same  understanding, 
nor  the  same  gust  and  relish  of  things. 

1.  Not  the  same  understanding.  And  therefore  where 
conscience  hath  the  same  rule,  it  cannot  have  with  every 
one  (he  same  actual  latitude,  that  rule,  being  so  very  di- 
versely understood,  which  difle  rent  estimate  of  consciences, 
the  apostle  hath  express  reference  to,  in  that  large  and  most 
healing  discourse  of  his,  Rom.  xiv.  One  (saith  he,  ver.  2.) 
believeth  that  he  may  eat  all  things,  another,  who  is  weak, 
eateth  herbs.  Nor  doth  he,  in  reference  to  such  doubted 
things,  determine  what  all  should  do,  or  not  do,  by  par- 
ticular rules,  concerning  every  such  case,  that  M'as  then 
depending,  which  it  seems  he  reckoned  was  not  necessary, 
or  that  might  afterwards  fall  out,  which  was  little  to  be 
expected.  But  he  lays  down  one  general  rule,  against 
judging  one  another,  which  he  presses  with  that  authorit}', 
and  such  awful  reasons,  as  might  make  a  Christian  heart 
tremble  to  be  guilty  of  it. 

And  in  reference  to  the  mentioned  differences  among 
ourselves,  (as  well  as  others  no  nearer  to  the  substantials 
and  vitals  of  our  religion,)  there  is  somewhat  else  to  be 
done  than  to  conclude  against  a  man's  sincerity  because  of 
such  differing  sentiments  and  practices,  and  which  certain- 
ly would  be  done,  if  truly  Christian  love,  or  even  justice  it- 
self, did  take  place  as  the}'  ought;  i.  e.  it  would  be  considered 
what  these  several  diftering  parties  have  to  say  for  them- 
selves, what  reasons  they  may  allege,  and  whether  though 
they  be  not  suflicient  to  justify  their  several  opinions  and 
practices,  (as  all  cannot  be  in  the  right,)  they  be  not  such 
as  by  which  a  conscientious  man,  a  sincere  fearer  of  God, 
may  be  swayed,  so  a.s  to  take  the  way  which  he  is  found 
in  by  the  ducture  of  an  upright  (though  misguided)  con- 
science, and  not  as  being  under  the  government  of  depraved 
vicious  inclination.  As  those  that  can,  and  do,  yield  the 
conformity  that  is  required  of  ministers,  though  perhaps 
they  wish  some  things  altered,  why  may  it  not  be  supposed 


they  sincerel)'  think  (though  it  should  be  mi.siakingly) 
that  the  things  raoie  liable  to  exception  are  capable  of  a 
sense  wherein  they  are  not  unlawful  1  and  not  being  so, 
they  think  themselves  bound  to  lake  the  opportunity  which 
they  this  way  obtain  of  doing  good  to  the  souls  of  men  ■? 
others  also  apprehending  it  lawful,  how  possible  is  it  to 
them  from  a  certain  reverence  they  have  for  antiquity,  and 
for  our  own  first  reformers,  to  think  it  best  and  fittest  to 
be  continued !  Nor  is  it  unsupposable  that  many  of  the 
laity  may  upon  the  same  grounds  have  the  same  appre- 
hensions. 

Again,  divers  in  the  ministr}' judging  the  termsunlawful 
upon  which  only  they  can  have  liberty  for  the  public 
exercise  of  it;  is  it  not  possible  they  njay,  with  a  sincere 
conscience,  think  themselves  not  therefore  obliged  wholly 
to  renounce  their  calling  and  office,  to  which  they  were 
duly  set  apart,  and  had  by  their  own  solemn  vow  given  up 
themselves ;  but  to  do  so  much  of  the  work  of  it  a.s  they 
can  have  opportunity  fori  And  whereas  of  the  people, 
some  may  think  the  public  forms  and  ways  of  worship 
not  simply  unlawful,  but  find  them  less  edifying  to  them 
than  other  means  which  the  providence  of  God  affords 
them  ;  and  therefore  do  more  ordinarily  attend  those, 
though  sometimes  also  the  other ;  why  should  it  be 
thought  on  the  one  hand,  or  the  other,  thut  it  is  so  little 
possible  the}'  should  be  guided  by  reasonable  and  consci- 
entious considerations  herein,  that  nothing  but  corrupt 
inclination  must  be  understood  to  govern  them  1  Is  it  not 
supposable,  that  accounting  the  public  worship  substantially 
agreeable  to  divine  institution,  though  in  some  accidentals 
too  disagreeable,  they  may  think  there  is  more  to  incline 
them  at  some  times  to  attend  it,  than  lolally  to  disown  it  1 
For  what  worship  is  there  on  earth  that  Ls  in  all  things  in- 
corrupt! And  they  may  apprehend  it  fit  to  testify  their 
union  with  the  sincere  Christians,  that  may  be  statedly 
under  that  form,  and  especially  in  a  time  when  the  contest 
is  so  high  in  the  world,  between  them  that  profess  the 
substance  of  reformed  Christianity,  and  them  that  have  so 
much  deformed  it ;  and  may  conceive  it  becoming  them, 
at  some  times,  to  express  their  own  unconfinedess  to  a 
party,  and  to  use  that  liberty  which,  they  think,  should  not 
be  judged  by  another  man's  conscience,  which  yet  they 
would  have  regard  to,  where  there  are  not  greater  reasons 
to  preponderate.  They  are  indeed  under  a  disadvantage 
(with  them  that  are  apt  to  use  a  greater  liberty  in  their 
censures,  than  they  do  in  their  practice  in  these  matters) 
when  it  falls  out  that  their  partial  compliance  is  the  means 
of  their  security  from  penalties;  and  their  disadvantage  is 
greater,  whose  judgment  to  this  purpose  haih  not  been 
formerly  declared  and  made  known.  But  they  for  sliame 
ought  to  be  silent  whose  total  compliance  gains  them  not 
only  immunity,  but  great  emoluments.  And  that  perhaps 
yielded,  not  according  to  a  former,  but  (at  that  time  when 
the  opportunity  occurred)  a  new  and  altered  judgment. 
They  may  however  know  themselves  to  be  moved  by 
greater  ends  than  secular  interest :  and  so  may  these  we 
now  speak  of,  and  yet  may  think  the  preservation  of  their 
earthly  portion,  wherewith  they  are  to  glorify  God  in  this 
world,  not  too  little  an  end  to  be  designed  and  endeavoured 
by  lawful  means.  It  were  a  very  uncouth  and  sinful  thing 
to  do  a  spiritual  action  for  a  carnal  end,  but  if  the  thing 
sincerely  and  supremely  designed  be  the  glory  of  God, 
that  is  the  most  spiritual  end  :  if  it  be  not,  that  ought  to 
be  changed  which  is  wrong,  not  that  which  is  right ;  the 
unlawful  end,  not  the  lawful  actit>n,  if  it  be  lawful ;  if  it  be 
not,  their  good  end  will  not  justify  their  action,  but  it  will 
their  sincerity;  which  is  all  that  this  discourse  intends. 

And  then  for  such  as  decline  the  public  worship  totally, 
as  judging  it  simply  unlawful ;  is  it  not  possible  they  may 
be  led  to  that  practice  by  somewhat  else  than  humour  and 
factious  inclination  1  Have  they  not  that  to  say,  which  may 
at  least  seem  solid  and  strong  to  a  conscientious  man  1 
How  jealous  God  did  heretofore  show  himself  in  all  the 
affairs  of  his  worship  !  How  particular  in  the  appointment 
even  of  the  smallest  things  he  would  have  appertain  to  it ! 
How  unsuitable  multiplied  ceremonies  are  lo  the  mature 
state  of  the  church!  and  how  sensibly  burdensome  they 
were  to  the  disciples  of  the  first  age  as  a  yoke  not  lo  be 
borne :  and  that  therefore  God  himself,  when  the  season  of 
maturity,  and  the  fulness  of  time   came,   thought   fit  to 


478 


CONCERNING  UNION  AMONG  PROTESTANTS, 


abrogate  those  of  his  own  former  appointment,  with  no 
(probable)  design  to  allow  men  the  liberty  of  substituting 
others  in  their  room.  Why  is  it  not  to  be  thought  that  the 
fear  of  the  great  God  withholds  them  from  doing  what  they 
judge  would  offend  him '?  and  that,  if  they  err,  it  is  for 
fear  of  erring?  Why  can  nothing  be  thought  on  whereto 
to  impute  their  practice,  but  peevish  humour  ?  Especially 
if  that  be  considered  (which  is  common  to  these  two  last 
mentioned  sorts  of  men)  that  they  simply  find  other 
means  more  edifying  to  them,  or  expect  them  only  to  be 
so,  if  the  other  be  thought  unlawful.  If  they  be  thought 
merely  lawful,  and  such  as  may  therefore  be  used  upon 
weighty  reasons  at  some  times,  but  are  found  less  edifying, 
who  can  doubt  but  I  ought  to  use  for  my  soul  (at  least  m 
an  ordinary  course)  the  aptest  means  that  I  can  ordinarily 
have  for  the  promoting  its  edification  and  salvation  "?  Do 
we  not  reckon  ourselves  to  owe  so  much  even  to  our 
bodies?-  And  what  is  an  other  man's  opinion  to  signify 
against  my  sense  and  constant  experience!  Is  there  not 
such  a  thing  as  a  mental  idiosyncrasy  (or  peculiarity  of 
temper)  as  well  as  a  bodily  1  and  whereto  what  is  most 
agreeable,  any  man  that  is  not  destitute  of  ordinary  under- 
standing is  the  fittest  judge  himself:  as  every  one,  that  is 
not  a  mere  fool,  is  so  much  a  physician  as  to  know  what 
diet  suits  him  best. 

And  if  it  be  said  against  the  former  of  these  two  sorts. 
Are  they  not  at  all  times  obliged  to  use  the  means  which 
are  most  edifying  1  They  may  say,  At  all  times  when 
they  have  nothing  to  outweigh  their  own  present  edifica- 
tion. But  it  is  not  impossible  that  a  conscientious  judg- 
ment may  esteem  all  the  forementioned  consideraiions 
concurring,  to  be  of  more  weight  than  the  greater  advan- 
tage hoped  to  be  gained  in  that  one  hour.  Nor  need  any 
man  be  ashamed  professedly  to  avow  that  which  may 
seem  the  least  of  them,  the  saving  of  himself  from  tempo- 
ral ruin.  For  he  is  to  be  accountable  to  God  for  what 
portion  he  hath  intrusted  him  with  of  the  good  things  of 
this  life,  and  is  not  to  throw  it  away  without  sufficient 
cause.  Who  sees  not  that  more  is  allowed  and  ordinarily 
done  without  scruple  or  censure  upon  the  like  account  ? 
as,  to  omit  the  hearing  of  a  sermon,  if  at  that  time  one's 
house  be  on  fire,  yea,  or  if  it  be  to  save  my  neighbour's,  or 
the  plucking  of  an  ox  or  sheep  out  of  a  ditch  on  the 
Lord's  day,  when  I  might  have  been  employed  at  that 
time  in  the  solemn  worship  of  God  to  my  spiritual  ad- 
vantage. A  mere  commutation  unto  less  advantage  upon 
an  equally  or  more  urgent  necessity  is  less  than  omission. 
And  they  that  shall  have  learned  as  our  Saviour  directs, 
"  what  that  means,  I  will  have  mercy  and  not  sacrifice," 
will  not  condemn  the  guiltless. 

Only  such  are  concerned  first  to  search  well  and  be 
satisfied  concerning  the  lawfulness  of  their  action  in  itself, 
that  they  do  it  not  with  a  self-condemning  conscience,  nor 
with  a  groundlessly  self-justifying  one.  And  then  especi- 
ally to  see  to  it  that  their  end  be  right ;  God's  interest, 
not  their  own,  otherwise  than  in  a  due,  entire  subordina- 
tion to  his.  We  can  never  act  innocently  or  comfortably 
in  any  thing,  till  he  be  in  every  thing  more  absolutely  our 
all  in  all ;  and  have  much  more  reason  to  be  scrupulous, 
and  (if  others  knew  our  hearts)  were  much  more  liable  to 
censure,  that,  in  our  common  affairs,  he  is  so  much  for- 
gotten, that  we  live  not  more  entirely  to  him ;  which  we 
little  animadvert  upon,  and  are  very  officious  to  cast 
motes  out  of  our  brother's  eye,  when  this  beam  is  in  our 
own. 

The  design  of  mentioning  these  hints  of  reasons  for  so 
different  judgments  and  practices,  is  not  to  show  which  are 
strongest,  and  ought  to  prevail,  which  cannot  be  the  busi- 
ness of  so  short  a  discourse  as  this,  and  so  much  of  an- 
other nature;  but,  to  show  that  while  there  is  any  thing 
colourable  to  be  alleged  for  this  or  that  way,  true  Chris- 
tian love,  compassion  of  common  human  frailty,  and  a 
duly  humble  sense  of  a  man's  own,  would  oblige  him  to 
think  that  conscience  towards  God  may  have  a  greater 
hand  (though  with  some  misguided  itself)  in  guiding  men 
the  different  ways  they  take,  than  is  commonly  thought. 
And  to'consider  though  such  and  such  reasons  seem  not 
weighty  to  me,  they  may  to  some  others,  who  are  as  much 
afraid  of  sinning  against  God  as  I,  and  perhaps  their  un- 
derstandings as  good  in  other  matters  as  mine.     It  would 


be  considered  how  really  difficult  the  controversy  is  about 
the  ceremonies,  and  some  other  parts  of  conformity.  Per- 
haps few  metaphysical  questions  are  disputed  with  more 
subtlety  than  that  controversy  is  managed  with,  by  Arch- 
bishop Whitgift,  Bishop  Morton,  Doctor  Burgesse,  Doctor 
Ames,  Cartwright,  Calverwood,  and  others.  And  how 
very  easily  possible  and  pardonable  is  it  to  unlearned  per- 
sons, or  of  weaker  intellectuals,  being  obliged  in  order  to 
their  practice  to  give  a  judgment  in  reference  to  these 
things  one  way  or  other,  to  judge  amiss!  Why  should 
we  expect  every  sincerely  pious  man  to  be  able  to  hit  the 
very  point  of  truth  and  right  in  matters  that  belong,  as 
Bishop  Davenant  once  said  in  another  case,  non  ad  fidem 
fundame.ntalem,  sed  ad  peritiam  Theologicavi,  et  fortesse  ne 
ad  hanc  quidem,  scd  aliqna.ndo  ad  curiositatem  Theol.ogo- 
rum — not  to  the  foundation  of  our  faith,  but  to  the  skill  of  di- 
vines, andperhaps  not  to  this  neither,  but  sometimes  only  to  their 
curiosity.  What  were  to  be  done  in  reference  to  so  nicely 
disputable  things  made  part  of  the  terms  of  Christian  com- 
munion, is  more  the  matter  of  our  wish  than  hope,  till  by 
a  gracious  influence  God  better  men's  minds,  or  by  a  more 
deeply  felt  necessity  bring  us  to  understand  what  is  to  be 
done.  Our  case  is  ill  when  only  vexatio  dat  intellectum, 
when  nothing  but  sorrow  and  suffering  will  malce  us  wise; 
which  is  very  likely  from  the  righteous  hand  of  God  to  be 
our  common  lot. 

In  the  mean  time  'tis  hard  to  think  that  he  cannot  be  a 
sincerelv  pious  man  whose  understanding  is  not  capable 
of  so  difficult  things,  as  to  make  a  certainly  right  judgment 
about  them.  In  absoluto  et  facili  stat  eternitas,  and  why 
should  not  the  communion  of  persons  going  into  a  blessed 
eternity  have  the  same  measure  ? 

And  besides  the  diflferent  size  and  capacity  of  men's 
understandings,  and  consequently  of  their  conscientious 
determination, 

2.  There  are  also  as  differing  relishes  of  these  things, 
which  Christian  love  would  oblige  a  man  to  consider  with 
equanimity,  so  as  thereupon  to  refrain  hard  censures.  All 
good  men  have  not  the  same  relish  of  the  various  forms 
and  modes  of  dispensing  the  truths  and  ordinances  ol 
Christ.  Some  of  our  suffering  brethren  in  Q..  Mary's 
days  are  said  to  have  found  great  spiritual  refreshing  by 
the  Common  Prayer.  And,  in  our  own  days,  some  may 
profess  to  have  their  hearts  warmed,  their  affections  raised 
and  elevated,  by  it.  They  are  no  rule  to  us ;  but  it  would 
less  become  us,  hereupon,  to  suspect  their  sincerity,  than 
our  own.  Others  again  cannot  relish  such  modes  of  wor- 
ship, when  in  the  ministry  of  such  as  use  them  not,  they 
find  a  very  sensible  delight  and  savour. 

And  this,  by  the  way,  shows  the  great  difference  be- 
tween such  things  as  have  their  evidence  and  goodness 
from  God  himself,  and  those  that  borrow  their  recom- 
mendableness  only  from  human  device.  All  good  men, 
in  all  the  times  and  ages  of  the  Christian  church,  have  a 
constant  value  and  love  for  the  great  substantial  of  re- 
ligion, which  have  in  them  that  inward  evidence  and  ex- 
cellency, as  command  and  captivate  a  rectified  mind  and 
heart ;  whereas  the  mere  external  forms  of  it,  the  outward 
dress  and  garb,  are  variously  esteemed  and  despised, 
liked  and  disliked,  by  the  same  sort  of  men,  i.  e.  by  very 
sincere  lovers  of  God,  not  only  in  divers  times  and  ages, 
but  even  in  the  same  time.  How  different  hath  the 
esteem  been  of  the  liturgic  forms  with  them  who  bear  the 
same  mind,  full  of  reverence  and  love  towards  religion  it- 
self; as  that  habit  is  thought  decent  at  one  time,  which 
in  another  is  despicably  ridiculous  ;  whereas  a  person  in 
himself  comely  and  graceful,  is  always  accounted  so,  by 
all,  and  at  all  times. 

Now  this  various  gust  and  relish  cannot  but  have  in- 
fluence, more  remotely,  upon  the  conscientious  determina- 
tion of  our  choice,  concerning  our  usual  way  of  worship- 
ping God.  For  how  should  I  edify  by  what  is  disgustful 
to  me?  Though  it  be  true  that  our  spiritual  edification 
lies  more  in  the  informing  of  our  judgments,  and  confirm- 
ing our  resolutions,  than  in  the  gusts  and  relishes  ol 
affection,  yet  who  sees  not  that  these  are  of  great  use  even 
to  the  other?  and  that  it  is  necessary  that  at  least  there 
be  not  a  disgust  or  antipathy?  What  is  constantly  less 
grateful,  will  certainly  be  less  nutritive.  That  is  usually 
nece.ssary  to  nourishment ;  though,  alone,  it  be  not  suffi- 


CONCERNING  UNION  AMONG  PROTESTANTS. 


479 


cient;  as  it  is  in  the  matter  of  bodil)'  repasts.  Who  can 
without  great  prejudice  be  bound  to  eat  always  of  a  food 
that  he  disrelislies,  though  he  may  without  much  inconve- 
nience, for  a  valuable  reason,  do  it  at  some  time. 

And  they  that  think  all  this  alleged  difference  is  but 
fancy,  show-  they  understand  little  of  human  nature,  and 
ess  of  religion  ;  though  they  may  have  that  in  themselves 
too  which  they  do  not  so  distinctly  reflect  upon,  even  that 
peculiar  gust  and  relish,  which  they  make  so  little  account 
of.  For,  have  they  not  as  great  a  disgust  of  the  others'  way 
as  they  have  of  theirs  ?  Would  they  not  as  much  regret  to 
be  tied  to  theirs  1  Have  they  not  as  great  a  liking  of  their 
own"?  And  doth  not  common  experience  show  that  there 
are  as  different  mental  relishes  as  bodily  1  How  comes  one 
man  in  the  matters  of  literature  to  savour  metaphysics? 
another  mathematics,  another  histor}-^,  and  the  likel  and 
no  man's  genius  can  be  forced  in  these  things.  Why  may 
there  not  be  the  like  difference  in  the  matters  of  religion  1 
And  I  would  fain  know  what. that  religion  is  worth  that  is 
without  a  gust  and  savour,  that  is  insii)id  and  unpleasant  1 
much  more  that  would,  being  used  in  a  constant  course, 
this  or  that  way,  be  nauseous  and  offensive! 

If  indeed  men  nauseate  that  which  is  necessary  for  them, 
the  Gospel,  for  instance,  or  religion  itself,  that  is  certainly 
such  a  distemper,  as  if  the  grace  of  God  overcome  it  not, 
will  be  mortal  to  them;  and  we  are  not  to  think  of  relieving 
them,  by  withdrawing  the  offending  object,  which  itself 
must  be  the  means  of  their  cure.  But  is  there  any  parity 
between  the  substance  of  religion,  which  is  of  God's  ap- 
pointing, and  the  superadded  modes  of  it,  that  are  of  our 
ownl 

Upon  the  whole,  nothing  is  more  agreeable,  either  to 
this  divine  principle  of  love,  nothing  (within  our  compass) 
more  conducible  to  our  end,  the  ceasing  of  our  differences, 
(which  are  most  likely  to  die  and  vanish  by  neglect,)  or 
their  ceasing  to  be  inconvenient  to  us,  than  to  bear  calm 
and  placid  minds  towards  one  another  under  them,  to 
banish  all  hard  thoughts  because  of  them.  If  I  can  con- 
tribute no  way  else  to  union,  from  this  holy  dictate  and 
law  of  the  spirit  of  love,  I  can  at  least  abstain  from  cen- 
suring my  fellow-Christians.  It  is  the  easiest  thing  in  the 
world  one  would  think  not  to  do;  especially  not  to  do  a 
thing  of  itself  ungrateful  to  a  well  tempered  mind;  and  a 
great  privilege  not  to  be  obliged  to  judge  another  man's 
conscience  and  practice,  when  it  is  so  easy  to  misjudge  and 
do  wrong.  Most  of  all,  when  the  matter  wherein  I  presume 
to  sit  in  judgment  upon  another  is  of  so  high  a  nature,  as 
the  posture  of  his  heart  God-ward  :  a  matter  peculiarly  be- 
longing to  another  tribunal,  of  Divine  cognizance,  and 
which  we  all  confess  to  be  only  known  to  God  himself 
And  if  I  would  take  upon  me  to  conclude  a  man  insincere, 
and  a  hypocrite,  only  because  he  is  not  of  my  mind  in  these 
smaller  things  that  are  controverted  among  us,  how  would 
I  form  my  argument?  No  one  can,  with  sincerity,  differ 
from  that  man  whose  understanding  is  so  good  and  clear, 
as  to  apprehend  all  things  with  absolute  certainty,  just  as 
they  are ;  and  then  go  on  to  assume,  (and  a  strange  assu- 
ming it  must  be,)  But  my  understanding  is  so  good  and 
clear  as,  &c.  'Tis  hard  to  say  whether  the  uncharitable- 
ness  of  the  one  assertion,  or  the  arrogance  of  the  other,  is 
greater;  and  whether  both  be  more  immoral,  or  absurd. 
But  the  impiety  is  worst  of  all ;  for  how  insolently  doth 
such  a  man  take  upon  him  to  make  a  new  Gospel!  and 
other  terms  of  salvation  than  God  hath  made!  when  his 
sentiments  and  determinatifms  of  things  which  God  hath 
never  made  necessary,  must  be  the  measure  and  rule  of  life 
and  death  to  men!  How  is  the  throne  and  judicial  power 
of  the  Redeemer  usurped  which  he  hath  founded  in  his 
blood !  Rom.  xiv.  4.  Who  art  thou  that  judgest  another 
man'!5  servant  1  to  his  own  master  he  standeth  or  falleth. 
Yea,  he  shall  be  holden  up;  for  God  is  able  to  make  him 
stand.  Ver.  9.  For  to  this  end  Christ  both  died,  and  rose, 
and  revived,  that  he  might  be  Lord  both  of  the  dead  and 
living.  Ver.  10.  But  why  dost  thou  judge  thy  brother  1  or 
whydo.st  thou  set  at  nought  thy  brother  7  we  shall  all  stand 
before  the  judgment-seat  of  Christ.  "Ver.  11.  For  it  is  writ- 
ten, as  I  live,  saith  the  Lord,  everv  knee  shall  how  to  me, 
and  every  tongue  shall  confess  to  God.  One  would  think 
they  that  lay  no  restraint  upon  themselves  in  this  matter  of 

g  Fox.  Martyr 


judging  their  brethren,  upon  every  lis:ht  occasion,  reckon 
this  chapter  came  b}'  chance  into  the  Bible.  And  that  our 
Lord  spake  himself,  at  random,  words  that  had  no  mean. 
ing,  when  he  said,  Matt.  vii.  1.  Judge  not  that  you  be  not 
judged,  &c.  What  man  that  fears  God  would  not  dread 
to  be  the  framer  of  a  new  Gospel,  and  of  new  terms  ol 
salvation  1  It  is  a  great  solace  indeed  to  a  sincere  mind 
but  implies  a  severe  rebuke,  in  the  mean  time,  to  .such  a 
self-assuming  censorious  spirit,  that  it  may,  in  such  a  case, 
be  so  truly  said,  it  is  a  much  easier  thing  to  plea.se  God 
than  man. 

They  that  find  this  measure  will  have  the  better  of  it,  if 
they  can  abstain  from  retaliating,  when  as  the  reason  of  it 
is  the  same  on  both  sides.  For  they  may  say.  You  are  to 
remember  I  differ  no  more  from  you  in  this  matter,  than 
you  do  from  me;  and  if  I  judge  not  you  about  it,  what 
greater  reason  have  you  to  judge  me  1  And  they  have  little 
reason  to  value  such  a  man's  judgment  concerning  their 
duty  in  a  doubtful  manner,  who  cannot  see  his  own  in  so 
plain  a  case.  The  matter  for  which  they  judge  me  may 
be  very  doubtful,  but  nothing  can  be  plainer  than  that  they 
ought  not  so  to  judge. 

9.  A  due  Chri.stian  love  would  oblige  us,  after  compe- 
tent endeavours  of  mutual  satisfaction  about  the  matters 
wherein  we  differ,  to  forbear  further  urging  of  one  another 
concerning  them.  Which  urging  may  be  two  ways :  either 
by  application  to  our  affections,  or  to  our  resison  and  judg- 
ment. 

Some  perhaps  find  it  more  suitable  to  their  own  temper 
and  measure  of  understanding  and  conscience,  to  go  the 
former  way;  and  only  vehemently  persuade  to  do  the 
thing,  wherein  the  other  shall  comply  with  them,  and  in 
some  sort  justify  the  course  which  they  have  taken  ;  with- 
out regard  to  the  others'  conscience,  press  them  right  or 
wrong  to  fall  in  with  them  ;  sometimes  labouring  to  work 
upon  their  kindness,  by  flattery,  sometimes  upon  their  fear, 
by  threats  and  menaces.  Sincere  love  would  certainly 
abhor  to  do  thus.  Would  it  let  me  violate  another's  con- 
science an}"^  wayl  The  love  I  bear  to  a  fellow-Christian, 
if  it  be  true,  having  for  its  measure  that  wherewith  I  love 
myself,  Avould  no  more  let  me  do  it  than  hurt  the  apple  of 
mine  own  eye.  An  inspirited  waking  conscience  is  as  ten- 
der a  thing,  and  capable  of  a  worse  sort  of  hurt.  If  some 
have  more  latitude  than  I.  and  think  what  they  may  do,  in 
present  circumstances  so  far  as  they  may,  they  must,  would 
it  not  be  the  dictate  of  love  patiently  to  admit  it,  especially 
when  it  comes  to  suffering.  For  let  me  put  my  own  soul 
in  his  soul's  stead ;  and  would  I  be  willing  to  sufler  upon 
another  man's  conscience,  and  not  upon  my  own  1  and  for- 
feit the  consolations  which  in  a  suflering  condition  belong 
to  them  who  for  conscience  towards  God  endure  grief? 
would  I,  if  I  loved  them,  be  content  they  had  the  grief,  and 
did  want  the  consolation?  There  will  be  still  found  in  a 
.state  of  suffering,  somewhat  that  will  prove  a  common 
cause  to  good  men  wherein  they  will  most  entirely  agree, 
whatsoever  smaller  things  they  may  differ  in.  As  the 
pious  bishops  Ridley  and  Hooper  well  agreed  upon  a  mar- 
tyrdom at  the  stake,  in  the  same  important  cau.se,  who  be- 
fore, had  differed  (somewhat  angrily)  about  some  ceremo- 
nies. Concerning  which  difference  how  pathetical  is  the 
letter?  of  the  former  of  these  to  the  other,  when  both  were 
prisoners  (the  one  at  Oxford  the  other  at  London)  on  the 
same  account.  But  now,  my  dear  brother,  (saith  he.)  for- 
asmuch as  we  thoroughly  agree  and  wholly  consent  to- 
gether in  tho.^e  things  which  are  the  grounds  and  substan- 
tial points  of  our  religion;  against  the  which  the  world  so 
furiously  rageth  in  these  our  days,  howsoever,  in  time  past, 
by  certain  by-matters  and  circumstances  of  religion,  your 
wisdom,  and  my  simplicity  (I  grant)  have  a  little  jarred: 
each  of  us  following  the  abundance  of  his  own  sen.«e  and 
judgment.  Now,  I  say,  be  you  assured,  that  even  with  my 
whole  heart,  God  is  my  witness,  in  the  bowels  of  Christ,  I 
love  you  in  the  truth,  and  for  the  truth's  sake,  which  abi- 
deth  in  us,  and  as  I  am  persuaded  shall,  by  the  grace  of 
God,  abide  in  us  for  evermore. 

Again,  if  others  have  less  latitude :  it  would  be  far  from 
us  to  add  to  the  affliction  they  are  liable  to,  upon  that  very 
account,  by  a  vexatious  urging  and  importuning  them. 
Especially  to  do  it  with  insulting  threats  and  menaces,  and 


480 


CONCERNING  UNION  AMONG  PROTESTANTS. 


labour  to  overawe  their  brethren,  against  their  consciences, 
into  the  embracing  of  their  sentinaents  and  wa3^  Is  it 
possible  a  Christian  should  not  understand  how  necessary 
it  is  to  ever)r  one's  duty  and  peace,  that  he  exactly  follow 
that  direction  of  the  apostle's,  and  esteem  it  most  sacred, 
Rom.  xiy.  5.  Let  every  man  be  fully  persuaded  in  his  own 
mind  1  and  that  we  firmly  resolve  never  to  do  any  thing 
with  regret  or  a  misgiving  heart,  at  least.  Not  against  a 
prevailing  doubt,  for  in  very  doubtful  cases  to  he  rid  of  all 
jormido  oppusiti  or  suspicion  that  the  matter  ma)^  be  other- 
wise, is  perhaps  impossible  to  me;  but  to  do  any  thing 
against  the  preponderating  inclination  of  my  judgment 
and  conscience,  were  great  wickedness,  and  such  as,  if  it 
were  known,  would  make  me  unfit  for  any  communion 
whatsoever.  And  I  do  here  appeal  to  you  who  most  se- 
verely blame  any  of  us  for  our  dissent  from  you,  whether 
if  we  should  thus  declare  to  you,  "  That  'tis  truly  against 
our  consciences  to  communicate  with  you  upon  your  terms, 
we  believe  we  should  greatly  offend  God  in  it,  and  draw 
upon  us  his  displeasure,  but  yet  to  please  you,  and  pre- 
vent our  temporal  inconvenience,  or  ruin,  we  will  do  it." 
I  appeal  to  you,  I  say,  whether  we  should  not  hereby  make 
ourselves  incapable  of  any  Christian  communion  with  you 
or  any  others  1  This  is  then  the  plain  state  of  the  case, 
and  you  do  even  put  these  words  into  our  mouths:  "  If 
we  follow  the  dictate  of  our  consciences,  we  must  decline 
you  ;  if  we  go  against  it,  you  must  decline  us ;  supposing 
we  declare  it,  if  we  declare  it  not,  we  have  nothing  to 
qualify  us  for  your  communion  but  hypocrisy  and  dissimu- 
lation !  and  what  do  you  gain  by  such  an  accession  to  the 
church  1  You  have  gained,  in  any  such  case,  not  half  the 
man,  the  outside,  the  carcass  only,  or  the  shadow  of  the 
man,  i.  e.  when  you  have  debauched  our  consciences,  when 
you  have  spoiled  us,  and  made  us  worth  nothing,  then  we 
are  yours,  wherein  you  show  nothing  of  love,  either  to  us, 
or  to  yourselves  !" 

Others  again,  that  are  themselves  men  of  more  reason 
and  conscience,  take  the  somewhat  more  manly  and  Chris- 
tian course,  and  bend  themselves  by  argument  to  convince 
the  reason,  and  satisfy  the  consciences,  of  such  as  differ 
from  them.  But  herein  also  there  may  be  an  excess  that 
is  unprofitable  and  grievous  to  those  they  would  work 
upon  by  this  course,  and  from  which  therefore  Christian 
love,  studying  the  peace  and  quiet  of  their  brethren,  would 
restrain  them.  I  say,  from  the  ungrateful  excess  of  such 
an  endeavour ;  for  I  would  fain  know,  can  there  not  herein 
be  an  excess  1  Is  it  not  supposable  that  they  who  differ 
from  me,  in  such  lesser  things,  may  be  sometime  arrived 
to  a  settlement  and  fixedness  of  judgment  in  them,  as  well 
as  11  Is  it  not  possible  they  have  weighed  the  moments 
of  things  as  much  as  I  have  done1  Is  such  a  cause  infi- 
nite 1  Is  it  not  possible  that  all  may  have  been  said  in  it 
which  is  to  be  said,  and  the  matter  have  been  sifted  to  the 
very  bran  1  So  that  all  mv  further  arguings  may  serve  but 
to  argue  my  vain  self-confidence,  or  aboundinguess  in  my 
own  sense,  as  if  all  wisdom  were  to  die  with  me.  Or  what 
if  they  serve  at  length  but  to  show  the  incapacity  of  the 
subject  to  be  wrought  upon,  and  the  different  corriplexion 
of  his  mind  I  am  treating  with.  All  cannot  receive  all 
things:  we  cannot  make  our  sentiments  enter  with  every 
one.  Perhaps  they  show  the  weakness  of  his  understand- 
ing: and  then  hath  that  direction  of  the  apostle  no  autho- 
rity with  usl  Him  that  is  weak  in  the  faith  receive,  but 
not  to  doubtful  disputations,  Rom.  xiv.  1.  He  whom  we 
account  our  weaker  brother,  and  of  slower  understanding, 
must  be  received,  (not  cast  out  of  our  communion,)  and  be- 
cause God  himself  hath  received  him,  as  ver.  3.  {q.  d.  Is 
he  thought  fit  for  God's  communion,  notwithstanding  his 
un.satisfied  scruple,  and  is  he  unfit  for  yours  1)  and  he  is 
not  to  be  vexed  and  importuned  with  continual  disputation, 
if  that  apostolical  precept  be  of  any  value  with  us.  Some- 
time at  least,  we  should  think,  we  have  tried  in  such  a 
case  as  far  as  is  fit,  and  driven  the  nail  as  far  as  it  will  go. 
Is  it  not  possible  such  a  matter  may  be  agitated  beyond 
the  value  of  it,  and  that  more  time  and  pains  maybe  spent 
iipon  it  than  it  is  worth  1  The  obscurity  and  perplexity 
of  the  controversy  show  the  less  necessity.     Things  most 

h  D<avenant  Sent,  ad  Diireuni. 

i  Vt  acerbis  illia  contentioiiihus,  quilnis,  et  verbis  rixati  sunt  inter  se 
Theologi,  et  scripfis :   et  ejiisinixJi  ilispiilationilms  sileiitio  tandem  finis  im- 


necessary  are  most  plain.  Must  we  always,  in  matters  ol 
confessedly  little  moment,  be  inculcating  the  same  thing, 
rolling  endlessly  the  returning  stone,  and  obtruding  our 
offensive  crambe  1  Perhaps  as  no  good  is  done,  we  do 
much  hurt.  When  is  the  saw  of  disputation  long  drawn 
about  one  thing  without  ill  effects  1  reason,  having  at 
length  spent  its  strength,  grows  (as  weak  people  are) 
peevish  and  froward ;  degenerates  into  anger  and  clamour. 
In  greater  differences  than  our  present  ones,  between  the 
prolestant  churches  abroad ;  some,  of  more  prudent  and 
peaceable  minds,  have  earnestly  pressed  the  laying  aside 
of  disputes,  and  putting  a  period,  by  consent,  to  their  theo- 
logical wars.  Solitaruvi  dispuiatiomim  labyrinthos  ne  iiir- 
gredi  qiddem  conc7itur,i'  said  a  great  divine,  in  his  days,  in 
reference  to  those  controversies  that  he  would  have  had 
composed  by  an  amicable  brotherly  conference.  And  that 
king  of  Navarre,  who,  at  that  time,  seemed  highly  con- 
cerned for  the  peace  and  welfare  of  the  reformed  churches, 
(afterwards  Henry  the  Fourth  of  France,)  in  his  negocia- 
tions  with  divers  princes  to  that  purpose,  gave  special 
instructions  to  his  ambassador  much  to  insist  upon  this, 
i  That,  till  other  remedies  could  be  used,  an  end  might  be  put 
to  bitter  contentions  and  dispxttations,  that  Christian  love  and 
a  brotherly  union  might  be  restored.  And  who  sees  not 
how  much  this  would  conduce  to  peace  and  union  in  our 
case  too  ?  who  sees  it  not,  that  is  a  hearty  lover  of  peace  1 
and  that  is  not  intent  upon  continuing  and  keeping  a-foot 
a  controversy,  not  so  much  as  a  means  to  that,  but  as  an 
end,  contending  for  contention's  sake,  and  as  a  thing 
which  he  loves  and  delights  in  for  itself?  I  am  sure  love 
to  our  brethren  would  not  let  us  continually  molest  and 
importune  them  to  no  purpose.  And  'tis  fit  they  that 
urge  to  us,  these  are  little  things  which  they  importune 
us  about,  should  know  we  have  great  things  to  mind,  of 
eternal  concernment  to  us.  And  that  we  cannot  be  always 
at  leisure  to  mind  little  things,  beyond  the  proportion  of 
our  little  time  on  earth,  and  the  httle  value  of  the  things 
themselves. 

10.  Sincere  love  restored  and  exercised  more  among  us, 
would  certainly  make  us  forbear  reviling  and  exposing 
one  another,  and  the  industrious  seeking  one  another's  ruin. 
For  such  as  can  allow  themselves  to  do  any  thing  that 
hath  this  tendency;  not  to  preserve  public  order,  but  to 
gratify  their  private  ill-will,  not  in  a  sudden  heat  and  pas- 
sion, but  deliberately,  and  so  as  to  pursue  a  formed  design 
to  this  purpose  ;  if  such  men  were  capable  of  being  rea- 
soned with,  (though  it  were  to  as  good  purpose  to  talk  to 
a  storm,  or  reason  with  a  whirlwind,  or  a  flame  of  fire,)  I 
would  ask  them,  "What  are  you  altogether  unatoneablel 
will  nothing  divert  you  from  this  pursuit  1  If  any  thing, 
what  will  1  What  more  gentle  thing  than  our  destruction 
do  you  seek,  or  will  content  you  1  Is  it  our  communion'? 
And  do  you  so  recommend  yourselves  1  Do  you  not  know 
Cain  is  said  to  have  been  of  that  wicked  one  who  slew  his 
brother?  1  John  iii.  10.  And  that  whosoever  hateth  his 
brother  is  a  murderer  ;  and  that  no  murderer  hath  eternal 
life  abiding  in  himl  Is  it  not  said,  John  viii.  44.  That 
such  are  of  their  father  the  devil,  and  the  lusts  of  their 
father  they  vfill  do,  who  was  a  murderer  from  the  begin- 
ning! And  in  the  forementioned  1  John  iii.  10.  In  this 
the  children  of  God  are  manifest,  and  the  children  of  the 
devil;  whosoever  doeth  n^t  righteousness  is  not  of  God, 
neither  he  that  loveth  not  his  brother?  If  all  were  like 
you,  under  what  notion  were  we  to  imite  with  them?" 
The  apostle  tells  us,  1  Cor.  x.  20,  21.  I  would  not  that  ye 
should  have  fellowship  with  devils,  ye  cannot  drink  the 
cup  of  the  Lord  and  the  cup  of  devils ;  ye  cannot  be  par- 
taker of  the  Lord's  table  and  of  the  table  of  devils.  And  in 
good  earnest,  incarnate  devils  (though  that  text  do  not  di- 
rectly speak  of  such)  have  too  much  of  devil  in  them,  to  be 
participants  in  a  communion,  that  can  seem  desirable,  or  is 
likely  to  be  grateful  to  serious  Christians.  I  must  avow  it  to 
all  the  world,  it  is  not  this  or  that  external  form  I  so  much 
consider  in  the  matter  of  Christian  union  and  communion, 
as  what  spirit  reigns  in  them  with  whom  I  would  associate 
myself  How  can  I  endure  to  approach  those  holy  mysle- 
ries,  wherein  all  are  to  drink  into  one  spirit,  and  declare 

ponatnr,  ut  Ctiristiana  charitas,  et  animonim  fratema  conjnnctio  revorcfnr. 
Mandat,  Hen.  Reg.  Navar.  Jacobo  Siguriaj  Legato  suo,  &c.  Apud  Gol- 
dasliim. 


CONCERNING  UNION  A:.I0NG  PROTESTANTS. 


481 


their  union  with  the  God  of  love,  with  the  Emmanuel, 
'God  most  nearly  approaching  us,  God  with  us,  collecting 
and  gathering  us  in  unto  hrai  as  our  common  centre, 
■whence  the  blessed  spirit  of  holy  love  is  to  diffuse  itself 
through  the  whole  body,  all  enlivened  by  that  spirit, 
and  formed  by  it  unto  all  kindness,  benignity,  goodness, 
and  sweetness !  With  what  significancy  can  I  do  so, 
(though  I  were  never  so  well  satisfied  with  the  external 
forms  and  modes  myself,)  if  it  be  apparent  (I  say,  if  appa- 
rent) I  must  cast  in  my  lot  and  join  myself  with  them, 
(were  they  generally  such,)  whose  souls  are  under  the  do- 
minion of  the  quite  contrary  spirit,  that  fills  them  with 
malignity,  with  mischievous  dispositions  and  purposes, 
towards  many  a  sincere  lover  of  God,  that  cannot  be  satis- 
fied with  those  forms  and  modes,  and  who  decline  them 
only  from  a  sense  of  duty  to  God,  and  a  fear  of  offending 
against  the  high  authority  of  their  blessed,  glorious  Re- 
deemer ! 

I  know  many  are  apt  to  justify  themselves  in  their  ani- 
mosity and  bitterness  of  spirit  towards  others,  upon  a  pre- 
tence that  they  bear  the  same  disaffected  mind  towards 
them.  Bat  besides  that  it  is  the  most  manifest  and  inde- 
fensible injustice,  if  they  charge  the  innocent,  or  such  as 
they  are  not  sure  are  guilty,  if  their  own  wrath  and  enmity 
be  so  potent  in  them  as  to  enable  their  tainted  vicious  ima- 
gination to  create  its  object,  or  so  to  disguise  and  falsely 
clothe  it,  as  to  render  it  such  to  themselves,  as  whereupon 
they  may  more  plausibly  pour  out  their  fury.  I  say,  besides 
that,  how  contrary  is  this  vindictive  spirit  to  the  rules  and 
spirit  of  the  Christian  religion  !  Is  this  to  love  our  enemies, 
to  bless  them  that  curse  us,  and  despitefully  use  us,  &c.  1 
How  unlike  the  example  of  our  blessed  Lord  when,  even  in 
dying  agonies,  he  breathed  forth  these  words  and  his  soul 
almost  at  once.  Father,  forgive  them,  &c.  or  of  the  holy 
martyr  Stephen,  Lord,  lay  not  this  sin  to  their  charge  ! 
How  unlike  is  that  aptness  to  the  retaliating  of  injuries,  to 
the  Christian  temper  which  the  renowned  Calvin  discovers 
in  an  epistle  to  Bullenger,  speaking  of  Luther's  severity 
towards  him.  If  Luther  a  thousand  times  (saith  he)  call 
me  devil,  I  will  acknowledge  him  for  a  famous  servant  of 
God  ;  which  passage  both  Bishop  Moreton,  and  Bishop 
Davenant  magnify  him  for ;  and  the  former  saith,  he  herein 
spake  so  calmly,  so  placidly,  so  indulgently,  as  if  it  were 
not  a  man,  but  humanity  itself,  that  uttered  the  words. 

Yea,  and  such  retaliation  is  what  paganism  itself  hath 
declaimed  against,  k  A  noted  philosopher  urges  that 
against  it,  that,  one  would  think,  should  not  need  to  be 
suggested  to  Christians,  somewhat  so  prudential  as  miglit 
not  only  work  upon  the  principle  of  love  to  others,  but 
even  that  of  self-love,  that  then  the  evil  must  perpetually 
circulate,  and  so  must  again  and  again  return  upon  our- 
selves. As  indeed  if  that  must  be  the  measure,  to  revile 
them  that  revile  us,i  and  render  evil  for  evil,  railing  for 
railing,  we  should  nev^er  have  done.  It  were  a  course 
which  once  begun,  could,  by  that  rule,  never  find  an  end. 

This  then  is  the  first  part  of  the  answer  to  the  proposed 
question.  What  may  be  most  hopefully  done,  &c.  The 
endeavour  of  having  our  hearts  knit  together  in  love  would 
surely  do  much  towards  it.  And  this  is  agreeable  to  any 
the  most  private  capacity.  No  man  can  pretend  his  sphere 
is  too  narrow  (if  his  soul  be  not)  for  the  exercise  of  love 
towards  fellow-Christians.  And  I  hope  'tis  agreeable  to 
all  our  principles.  Sure  no  man  will  say  'tis  against  his 
conscience  to  love  his  brother.  And  the  same  must  be 
said  of, 

2.  That  other  expedient,  the  endeavour  to  have  our  souls 
possessed  with  a  more  clear,  efficacious,  practical  faith  of 
the  Gospel,  which  was  to  make  the  other  part  of  the  an- 
swer to  our  question.  And  though  this  is  the  more  im- 
portant part,  it  is  also  so  very  evident,  that  we  do  not  need 
to  make  this  discourse  swell  to  a  bulk  too  unproportion- 
able  to  the  rest  it  is  to  be  joined  with  by  speaking  largely 
to  it. 

Although  we  have  not  the  name  of  faith  in  this  text,  we 
have  the  thing.  It  is  not  named,  but  it  is  described,  so  as 
that  it  may  easily  be  understood,  both  what  it  is,  and  how 
necessary  to  our  purpose. 

I.  What  it  is,  or  what  measure  and  degree  of  it,  that 
would  be  of  such  great  use  in  such  a  case.     We  arc  told 

k  JIaxim.  Tyr.  Dissert.  2. 


with  great  emphasis.  The  riches  of  the  full  assurance  of 
understanding,  to  the  acknowledgment  of  the  mystery  by 
God,  and  of  the  Father,  and  of  Christ.     Such  as  whereby, 

1.  Our  understandings  are  duly  enlightened  so  as  men- 
tally to  entertain  aright  the  doctrine  of  the  Gospel,  i.  e. 
1.  Distinctly  to  apprehend  the  meaning  and  design  of  this 
mysterious  revelation  of  God  in  Christ.  2.  And  to  be 
fully  assured  of  the  truth  of  it. 

2.  Such  again,  as  whereby  our  hearts  are  overcome,  so 
as  practically  and  vitally  to  receive  it,  i.  e.  to  acknowledge, 
receive,  resign,  intrust,  and  subject  ourselves  unto  God  in 
Christ  revealed  in  it. 

2.  And  of  how  vast  importance  this  is  towards  our  es 
tablishment,  the  confirming,  fortifying,  and  uniting  of  our 
hearts,  and  our  joint  preservation  in  our  Christian  .state, 
(the  main  thing  we  are  to  design,  and  be  solicitous  for,)  we 
may  see  in  these  particulars. 

1.  Hereby  we  should  apprehend  the  things  to  be  truly 
great  w^herein  we  are  to  unite.  That  imion  is  not  like  to 
be  firm  and  lasting,  the  centre  whereof  is  a  trifle.  It  must 
be  somewhat  that  is  of  itself  apt  to  attract  and  hold  our 
hearts  strongly  to  it.  To  attempt  with  excessive  earnest- 
ness a  union  in  external  formalities  that  have  not  a  value 
and  goodness  in  themselves,  when  the  labour  and  diffi- 
culty is  so  great,  and  the  advantage  so  little,  how  hopeless 
and  insignificant  would  it  be  !  The  mystery  of  God,  even 
of  the  Father,  and  of  Christ,  how  potently  and  con- 
stantly attractive  would  it  be,  if  aright  understood  and 
acknowledged !  Here  we  should  understand  is  our  life 
and  our  all. 

2.  Hereby  we  should,  in  comparison,  apprehend  all 
things  else  to  be  little.  And  so  our  differences  about  little 
things  would  languish  and  vanish.  We  should  not  only 
know,  but  consider  and  feelingly  apprehend,  that  we  agree 
in  far  greater  things  than  w^e  differ  in  :  and  thence  be  more 
strongly  inclined  to  hold  together,  by  the  things  wherein 
we  agree,  than  to  contend  with  one  another  about  the 
thing's  wherein  we  differ. 

3.  Hereby  our  religion  would  revive  and  become  a  vital 
pow-erful  thing ;  and  consequently  more  grateful  to  God, 
and  awful  to  men. 

1.  More  grateful  to  God,  who  is  not  pleased  with  the 
stench  of  carcasses,  or  with  the  dead  shows  of  religion  in- 
stead of  the  living  substance.  We  should  hereupon  not 
be  deserted  of  the  divine  presence,  which  we  cannot  but 
reckon  will  retire,  when  we  entertain  him  but  with  insipid 
formalities.  What  became  of  the  Christian  interest  in  the 
world,  when  Christians  had  so  sensibly  diverted  from 
minding  the  great  things  of  religion  to  Utile  minute  cir- 
cumstances, about  which  they  affected  to  busy  ihem.-^elves, 
or  to  the  pursuit  of  worldly  advantages  and  delights  1 

2.  More  awful  to  men.  They  who  are  tempted  to 
despise  the  faint  languid  appearances  of  an  impotent,  in- 
efficacious, spiritless  religion,  discern  a  majesty  in  that 
which  is  visibly  living,  powt  I'ul,  and  productive  of  suitable 
fruits.  Who  that  shall  consider  the  state  of  the  Christian 
church,  and  the  gradual  declining  of  religion  for  that  three 
hundred  j-ears  from  Constantine's  time  to  that  of  Phocas, 
but  shall  see  cause  at  once  to  lament  the  sin  and  folly  ol 
men,  and  adore  the  righteous  severity  of  God  1  For  as 
Christians  grew  gradually  to  be  loose,  wanton,  sensual,  and 
their  leaders  contentious,  luxurious,  covetous,  proud,  am- 
bitious affecters  of  domination,  so  was  the  Christian  church 
gradually  forsaken  of  the  Divine  presence.  Inasmuch  as 
that  at  the  same  time  when  Boniface  obtained  from  Phocas 
the  title  of  universal  bishop,  in  defiance  of  the  severe  sei>- 
tence  of  his  predecessor  Gregory  the  Great,  sprang  up  the 
dreadful  delusion  of  Mahomet.™  And  so  spread  itself  to 
this  day,  through  Asia,  Africa,  and  too  considerable  a  part 
of  Europe,  that  where  Christians  were  twenty  or  thirty  to 
one,  there  was  now  scarce  one  Christian  to  twenty  or  thirty 
Mahometans  or  grosser  pagans.  And  what  between  the 
Mahometan  infatuation,  and  the  popish  tyranny,  good 
Lord!  what  is  Christendom  become?  when  by  the  one, 
the  very  name  is  lost,  and  by  the  other,  little  else  left  but 
the  name  1 

4.  Hereby  we  shall  be  enabled  most  resolvedly  to  suffer, 
being  called  to  it,  when  it  is  for  the  great  things  of  the 
Grospel,  the  mystery  of  God,  and  of  the  Father,  and  of 

I  1  Pet.  ii.  ^3.  rinp.  iii.  9.  m  Eerewood's  Iixjuiries. 


483 


CONCERNING  UNION  AMONG  PROTESTANTS. 


Christ,  clearly  and  with  assurance  understood  and  ac- 
knowledged. Such  a  faith  will  not  be  without  its  pleasant 
relishes.  'Tis  an  uncomfortable  thing  to  suffer  either  for 
the  mere  spiritless,  uncertain,  unoperative  notions  and 
opinions,  or  for  the  unenlivened  outward  forms  of  reli- 
gion, that  we  never  felt  to  do  us  good,  in  which  we  never 
tasted  sweetness,  or  felt  power,  that  we  were  really  noth- 
ing ever  the  better  for.  But  who  will  hesitate  at  suffering 
for  so  great  things  as  the  substantials  of  the  Gospel,  which 
he  hath  clearly  understood,  whereof  he  is  fully  assured, 
and  which  he  hath  practically  acknowledged  and  em- 
braced, so  as  to  feel  the  energy  and  power  of  them,  and 
relish  their  delicious  sweetness  in  his  soul  1  And  though 
by  such  suffering  he  himself  perish  from  off  this  earth,  his 
religion  lives,  i.s  spread  the  more  in  the  present  age,  and 
propagated  to  after-ages;  so  seminal  and  fruitful  a  thing  is 
the  blood  of  martyrs  !  as  hath  always  been  observed.  And 
as  such  a  faith  of  the  mystery  of  the  Gospel  appears  to 
have  this  tendency  to  the  best,  firmest,  and  most  lasting 
union  among  Christians,  and  the  consequent  preservation 
of  the  Christian  interest,  this  mystery  being  more  generally 
considered  only;  so  this  tendency  of  it  would  be  more  dis- 
tinctly seen,  if  we  should  consider  the  more  eminent  and 
remarkable  parts  of  it ;  the  mystery  of  the  Redeemer's  per- 
son, the  Emmanuel,  God  uniting  himself  with  the  nature 
of  man;  his  office,  as  reconciler  of  God  and  man  to  each 
other;  his  death,  as  a  propitiatory  sacrifice  to  slay  all  en- 
mity ;  his  victory  and  conquest  over  it,  wherein  is  founded 
his  universal  empire  over  all ;  his  triumphant  entrance  into 
heaven,  whither  he  is  to  collect  all  that  ever  loved,  trusted, 
and  obeyed  him,  to  dwell  and  be  conversant  together  in  his 
eternal  love  and  praises.  How  directly  do  all  these  tend 
to  endear  and  bind  the  hearts  and  souls  of  Christians  to 
God,  and  him,  and  one  another,  in  everlasting  bonds ! 

Thus  then  M'e  have  the  answer  to  our  question  in  the 
two  parts  of  the  text.  The  former  pointing  out  to  us  the 
subjects  of  our  union,  with  the  uniting  principle  by  which 
they  are  to  be  combined  with  one  another  ;  the  other  the 
centre  of  it,  with  the  uniting  principle  whereby  they  are 
all  to  be  united  in  that  centre. 

Use.  And  what  now  remains,  but  that  we  lament  the 
decay  of  these  two  principles,  and,  to  our  uttermost  en- 
deavour the  revival  of  them. 

1.  We  have  great  cause  to  lament  their  decay;  for  how 
visible  is  it  I  and  how  destructive  to  the  common  truly 
Christian  interest !  It  was  once  the  usual  cognizance  of 
those  of  this  holy  profession,  "  See  how  these  Christians 
love  one  another,  and  even  refuse  not  to  die  for  each 
other !"  Now  it  may  be,  "  How  do  they  hate  !  and  are 
like  to  die  and  perish  by  the  hands  of  one  another  !"  Our 
Lord  himself  gave  it  them  to  be  their  distinguishing  cha- 
racter. "  By  this  shall  all  men  know  that  ye  are  my  dis- 
ciples if  you  love  one  another."  Good  Lord  !  what  are 
they  now  to  be  known  by  1 

And  what  a  cloudy,  wavering,  uncertain,  lank,  spirit- 
less thing  is  the  faith  of  Christians  in  this  age  become  ! 
How  little  are  the  ascertaining  grounds  of  it  understood, 
n  Pink's  Trial  of  a  Christian's  love  to  Christ 


or  endeavoured  to  be  understood  !  Most  content  themselves 
to  profess  it  only  as  the  religion  of  their  country,  and 
which  was  delivered  to  them  by  their  forefathers.  And  so 
are  Christians  but  upon  the  same  terms  as  other  nations 
are  Mahometans,  or  more  gross  pagans,  as  a  worthy  writer 
some  time  since  took  notice."  How  few  make  it  their 
business  to  see  things  with  their  own  eyes,  to  believe,  and 
be  sure  that  Jesus  is  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  the  livmg  God ! 
How  far  are  we  from  the  riches  of  the  full  assurance  of 
understanding  !  How  little  practical  and  governing  is  the 
faith  of  the  most !  How  little  doth  it  import  of  an  acknow- 
ledgment of  the  mystery  of  God,  viz.  of  the  Father,  and 
of  Christ  I  How  little  effectual  is  it !  which  it  can  be  but 
in  proportion  to  the  grounds  upon  which  it  rests.  When 
the  Gospel  is  received,  not  as  the  word  of  man,  but  of  God, 
it  works  effectually  in  them  that  so  believe  it,  1  Thess. 
ii.  13. 

2.  Let  us  endeavour  the  revival  of  these  principles. 
This  is  that  in  reference  whereto  we  need  no  human  laws. 
We  need  not  edicts  of  princes  to  be  our  warrant  for  this 
practice,  loving  one  another,  and  cleaving  with  a  more 
grounded  lively  faith  to  God  and  his  Christ.  Here  is  no 
place  for  scruple  of  conscience  in  this  matter.  And  as  to 
this  mutual  love :  what  if  others  will  not  do  their  parts  to 
make  it  so  ?  What,  shall  we  only  love  them  that  love  us, 
and  be  fair  to  them  that  are  fair  to  us,  salute  them  that 
salute  us  1  Do  not  even  the  publicans  the  same  1  What 
then  do  we  more  than  others  1  as  was  the  just  expostula- 
tion of  our  Saviour  upon  this  supposition,  Matt.  v.  47. 

And  let  us  endeavour  the  more  thorough  deep  radica- 
tion  of  our  faith,  that  it  may  be  more  lively  and  fruitful: 
which  this  apostle  you  see  (not  forgetting  his  scope  and 
aim)  further  presses  in  the  following  verses,  testifying  his 
joy  for  what  he  understood  there  was  of  it  among  these 
Christians.  Though  I  be  absent  in  the  flesh,  yet  I  am  with 
you  in  the  spirit,  joying  and  beholding  your  order,  and  the 
steadfastness  of  your  faith  in  Christ,  ver.  5.  And  exhort- 
ing them  to  pursue  the  same  course.  As  ye  have  received 
Christ  Jesus  the  Lord,  so  walk  ye  in  him ;  rooted  and 
built  up  in  him,  stablished  in  the  faith,  as  ye  have  been 
taught,  abounding  therein  with  thanksgiving,  ver.  6,  7. 

And  what  also,  must  we  suspend  the  exercise  and  im- 
provement of  our  faith  in  the  great  mysteries  of  the  Gos- 
pel, till  all  others  will  agree  upon  the  same  thing  1  Let  us 
do  our  own  part,  so  as  we  may  be  able  to  say,  "  Per  me 
non  stetit,  It  ivas  not  my  fault,  but  Christians  had  been 
combined,  and  entirely  one  with  each  other,  but  they  had 
been  more  thoroughly  Christian,  and  more  entirely  uniteo 
with  God  in  Christ,  that  Christianity  had  been  a  more 
lively,  powerful,  awful,  amiable  thing.  If  the  Christian 
community  moulder,  decay,  be  enfeebled,  broken,  dis- 
pirited, ruined  in  great  part,  this  ruin  shall  not  rest  under 
my  hand."  We  shall  have  abundant  consolation  in  our 
own  souls,  if  we  can  acquit  ourselves,  that  as  to  these  twc 
things,  we  lamented  the  decay  and  loss,  and  endeavoured 
the  restitution  of  them,  and  therein,  as  much  as  in  us  was, 
of  the  Christian  interest. 


OF  CHARITY 


IN  RESPECT  OF  OTHER  MEN'S  SINS. 


THE  PREFACE. 

A  PROPOSAL  was  made  to  me,  by  some  friends,  for  publishing:  of  these  papers  ;  which  I  cannot  doubt,  jroceeded  from 
charity,  both  to  the  reader,  whose  good  they  intended  in  it ;  and  to  the  author,  that  they  could  think  so  slender  a  per- 
formance was  capable  of  serving  it.  I  cannot,  indeed,  think  it  unseasonable,  to  take  any  occasion  of  recommending 
charity,  though  this  subject  led  me  only  to  consider  one  single  instance  of  it.  But  if  the  practice  of  it,  in  this  one, 
would  redress  so  great  an  evil,  what  might  we  not  expect  from  its  universal  exercise,  in  all  cases  upon  which  it  might 
have  influence  1  Even  the  tongues  of  men  and  angels,  as  (with  our  apostle)  they  are  insufficient  to  supply  its  absence ; 
so  nor  are  they  more  than  sufficient  fully  to  represent  its  worth.  We  vainly  expect,  from  either  eloquence  or  disputa- 
tion, the  good  effects,  which  charity  alone  (could  it  take  place)  would  easily  bring  about  without  them.  How  labori- 
ously do  we  beat  our  way  in  the  dark  !  "  We  grope  for  the  wall,  like  the  blind,  and  we  grope  as  if  we  had  no  eyes: 
we  stumble  at  noon-day,  as  in  the  night,  but  the  way  of  peace  we  have  not  known."  Human  wit  is  stretched  to  the 
uttermost ;  wherein  that  comes  short,  the  rest  is  endeavoured  to  be  supplied  by  anger  :  and  all  to  bring  us  under  one 
form,  which  either  will  not  be ;  or  if  it  were,  could  be  to  little  purpose ;  while  in  the  mean  time,  this  more  excellent 
way  is  forgotten  of  our  foot,  and  we  are  far  from  it.  Which  shows,  it  is  God  that  must  cure  us,  (the  God  of  love  and 
peace,)  and  not  man. 

How  soon  and  easily  would  a  mutual  universal  charity  redress  all !  For  being  on  one  side  only,  it  could  never  ce- 
ment both.  And  limited  only  to  a  party,  it  is  not  itself,  and  a:'s  against  itself,  divides  what  it  should  unite.  But  a 
genuine,  equally  diffused  charity,  how  would  it  melt  down  men's  minds,  mollify  their  rigours,  make  high  things  low. 
crooked  straight,  and  rough  places  plain  !  It  would  certainly  either  dispose  men  to  agree  upon  one  way  of  common 
order,  or  make  them  feel  very  little  inconvenience  or  cause  of  offence  in  some  variety.  But  without  it,  how  little  would 
the  most  exquisite,  unexceptionable  form  (universally  complied  with,  in  every  punctilio)  contribute  to  the  church's  wel- 
fare !  No  more  to  its  quiet,  and  repose,  than  an  elegant,  well-shaped  garment,  to  the  ease  and  rest  of  a  disjointed, 
ulcerous  body :  nor  longer  preserve  it,  than  the  fair  skin  of  a  dead  man's  body  would  do  that«  from  putrefaction  and 
dissolution. 

What  piety  is  to  our  union  with  God,  that  is  charity  to  our  union  with  one  another.  But  we  are  too  apt,  as  to  both, 
to  expect  from  the  outward  form,  what  only  the  internal,  living  principle  can  give ;  to  covet  the  one  with  a  sort  of 
fondness,  and  deny  the  other.  One  common  external  form  in  the  church  of  God,  wherein  all  good  men  could  agree, 
were  a  most  amiable  thing,  very  useful  to  its  comely,  better  being,  and  the  Avant  of  it  hath  inferred,  and  doth 
threaten,  evils  much  to  be  deplored,  and  deprecated.  But  this  divine  principle  is  most  simply  necessary  to  its  very 
being.  Whatsoever  violates  it,  is  the  most  destructive,  mortal  schism,  as  much  worse  than  an  unwilling  breach  of 
outward  order,  as  the  malicious  tearing  in  pieces  a  man's  living  body,  is  worse  than  accidental  renting  his  clothes. 
And  indeed,  were  our  ecclesiastical  contests,  about  matters  that  I  could  think  indifferent,  as  long  as  there  is  such  a 
thing  as  distinction  of  parties,  I  should  readily  choose  that  where  were  most  of  sincere  charity  (if  I  knew  where  that 
were.)  For  since  our  Saviour  himself  gives  it  us,  as  the  cognizance  of  Christians,  (by  this  shall  all  men  know  ye  are 
my  disciples,  if  ye  love  one  another,)  I  know  not  how  better  to  ju<^ge  of  Christianity  than  by  charity-  Nor  know  I 
where,  among  them  that  profess,  there  is  less  of  either,  than  with  them  that  would  confine  and  engross  both  to  their  own 
several  parties;  that  say,  here  is  Christ,  and  there  he  is  ;  and  will  have  the  notions  of  Christian,  of  saint,  of  church, 
to  extend  no  further  than  their  own  arbitrarily  assigned  limits,  or  than  as  they  are  pleased  to  describe  their  circle. 
We  know  to  whom  the  doing  so  hath  been  long"imputed ;  and  it  were  well  if  they  had  fewer  sorts  of  imitators.  Nor 
doth  it  savour  more  of  uncharitableness  in  any,  to  think  of  enclosing  the  truth,  and  purity  of  religion,  only,  within 
their  own  precincts,  than  it  doth  of  pride  and  vanity,  to  fancy  they  can  exclude  thence  every  thing  of  offensive  impu- 
rity. We  are  never  like  to  want  occasions,  even  in  this  respect,  of  exercising  charity  :  not  to  palliate  the  sins  of  any, 
but  recover  sinners.    God  grant  we  may  use  it  more  to  this  purpose  (when  the  case  so  requires)  and  neec.  it  less. 

JOHN  HOWE. 


OP 


CHARITY  IN  RESPECT  OF  OTHER  MEN'S  SINS. 


1  COR.  Xlll.  6. 


REJOICETH  NOT  IK  INIQUITY. 


The  subject  spoken  of  must  be  supplied  from  the  fore- 
going verses;  where  we  find  the  matter  all  along,  in  dis- 
course, is  charity ;  which  it  is  the  principal  business  of  the 
whole  chapter  to  describe,  and  praise.  And  this  is  one  of 
the  characters  that  serve  (as  they  all  do)  to  do  both  these 
at  once.  For  being  in  itself  a  thing  of  so  great  excellency, 
to  show  its  true  nature,  is  to  praise  it.  Whatsoever  is  its 
real  property,  is  also  its  commendation. 

Our  business  here  must  be, — 1.  Briefly  to  explain  and 
give  some  general  account  of  both  these,  viz.  charily,  and 
this  is  its  nega,tive  character,  that  it  rejoices  not  in  iniquity. 
— 2.  To  demonstrate  the  one  of  the  other;  or  (which  is  all 
one)  to  show  the  inconsistency  between  that  divine  princi- 
ple and  this  horrid  practice:  upon  which  the  use  of  this 
piece  of  Christian  doctrine  will  ensue. 

I.  We  are  to  give  some  account  both  of  this  principle, 
the  charity  which  the  apostle  here  treats  of,  and  of  the 
practice  which  the  text  denies  of  it,  rejoicing  in  iniquity. 

1.  For  the  former.  The  charity  of  love  here  spoken  of, 
is  the  root  of  all  that  duty  which  belongs  to  the  second 
table.  The  whole  of  the  duty  contained  in  both,  is  summed 
up  by  our  Saviour  in  love.  That  of  the  former  in  that 
first  and  great  commandment,  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord 
thy  God  with  all  thy  heart,  &c.  Matt.  xxii.  37.  that  of  the 
latter  in  this  other,  which  is  like  unto  it.  Thou  shalt  love 
thy  neighbour  as  thyself  Upon  which  two  we  are  told 
hang  all  the  law  and  the  prophets.  See  also  Rom.  xiii.  10. 
The  instances  which  are  ;r'/en  in  this  chapter,  refer  to 
man  as  the  object,  and  show  that  it  is  the  love  of  our  neigh- 
bour which  is  meant. 

But  though  It  be  so  far  human,  it  is  however  upon  other 
accounts  a  real  part  of  divine  love;  which  we  see  1  John 
iii.  17.  that  apostle  speaking  even  of  love  to  our  brother, 
Whoso  hath  this  world's  goods,  and  seeth  his  brother  hath 
need,  and  shutteth  up  the  bowels  of  compa.ssion  from  him, 
demands,  How  dwelleth  the  love  of  God  in  that  man  1 
And  David  called  the  kindness  he  intended  the  relicts  of 
Saul's  family,  the  kindness  of  God,  2  Sam.  ix.  3.  This 
part  of  love  is  divine  both  in  respect  of  its  original,  and  of 
somewhat  considerable  in  its  object. 

1.  In  respect  of  its  original.  "Tis  a  part  of  the  communi- 
cated Divine  nature,  from  whence  they  that  partake  of  it, 
are  said  to  be  born  of  God.  It  is  most  conjunct  with 
faith  in  the  Mes.siah,  and  love  to  God  himself,  which  are 
both  comprehended  in  that  birth.  For  as  it  is  said  in  the 
Gospel  of  John,  (chap.  i.  12,  13.)  that  as  many  as  received 
him,  {x-iz.  Christ,)  to  them  he  gave  power  to  be  called  the 
sons  of  God,  even  to  them  that  believe  in  his  name,  who 
were  born  not  of  blood,  nor  of  the  will  of  the  flesh,  nor  of 
the  will  of  man,  but  of  God.  And  in  his  1  Epist.  chap. 
V.  1.  Whosoever  believeth  that  Jesus  is  the  Christ,  is 
born  of  God.  So  it  is  in  this  latter  place  immediately 
added,  as  the  double  property  of  this  divine  production, 

a  Max.  Tyr.  Dissert. 


(not  more  separable  from  one  another  than  from  it,)  And 
every  one  that  loveth  him  that  begat,  loveth  him  also  that 
is  begotten  of  him.  And  hereupon  also,  from  the  in-being 
and  exercise  of  this  love  (though  towards  an  object  that 
seems  very  heterogeneous  and  of  much  another  kind)  we 
come  to  bear  the  name  of  God's  children.  Love  your  ene- 
mies— that  you  may  be  the  children  of  your  Father  which 
is  in  heaven.  Matt.  v.  44,  45.  The  law  indeed  of  love  to 
other  men,  though  it  oblige  to  love  some  above  others  upon 
a  special  reason,  yet,  in  its  utmost  latitude,  comprehends 
all  mankind  under  the  name  of  neighbour  or  brother,  as 
the  particular  precepts  contained  in  it  do  sufl[iciently  show. 
Which  surely  leave  us  not  at  liberty  to  kill,  defile,  rob, 
slander,  or  covet  from  others,  than  the  regenerate,  (as  we 
count,)  or  our  friends  or  relatives. 

Now  that  principle  from  which  we  are  called  God's 
children,  must  be  of  divine  original ;  for  it  is  not  spoken 
of  them  casually,  but  as  their  distinguishing  character. 
So  that,  in  this  respect,  they  are  said  to  be  of  God.  It  is 
their  very  difl^erence  from  the  children  of  another,  and  the 
worst  of  fathers,  1  John  iii.  10.  In  this  the  children  of 
God  are  manifest,  and  the  children  of  the  devil;  whoso- 
ever doth  not  righteousness,  is  not  of  God,  neither  he  that 
loveth  not  bis  brother.  Which  also  shows  it  is  not  univer- 
sally all  love  unto  which  this  dignity  belongs.  Some 
more  noble-minded  pagans,  that  were  wont  to  ascribe 
divinity  unto  love,  have  also  carefully  distinguished,  and 
told  us  of  a  love  that  was  genuine,  and  another  that  wa.s 
spurious;  the  one  akin  to  virtue,  the  other  to  vice;  and 
have  noted  it  as  an  abusive  error  of  the  vulgar,  to  give  the 
same  name  to  God  and  a  disease."  The  corruption  and 
degeneracy  of  love,  is  indeed  less  than  human ;  but  the 
first  being  and  restored  rectitude  of  it,  is  of  an  original  no 
less  than  divine. 

2.  And  even  this  love,  though  placed  upon  man,  is  divine 
too  in  respect  of  its  object,  i.  e.  of  somewhat  we  have 
to  consider  in  it,  which  is  most  properly  and  strictly  the 
object,  or  the  inducement  and  formal  reason  why  we  love. 
God  is  the  pri?imm  amabile,  the  Jlrst  goodness,  as  well  as 
the  first  Being.  As  therefore  there  is  no  being,  so  nor  is 
there  any  goodness,  amability,  or  loveliness,  which  is  not 
derived  from  him.  We  love  any  thing  more  truly  and 
purely,  the  more  explicitly  we  acknowledge  and  love  God 
in  it.  Upon  the  view  of  tho.se  strokes  and  lineaments  of 
the  Divine  pulchritude,  and  the  characters  of  his  glory, 
which  are  di.scernible  in  all  his  creatures,  our  love  should 
be  someway  commensurate  with  the  creation,  and  com- 
prehend the  universe  in  its  large  and  complacential  em- 
braces. Though  as  any  thing  is  of  higher  excellency,  and 
hath  more  lively  touches  and  resemblances  of  God  upon 
it ;  or  by  the  disposition  of  his  providence  and  law,  more 
nearly  approaches  us,  and  is  more  immediately  presented 
to  our  notice,  converse,  use,  or  enjoyment,  so  our  love  is 


OF  CHARITY  IN  REFERENCE  TO  OTHER  MEN'S  SINS. 


48S 


to  be  exercised  towaids  it  more  explicitly,  in  a  higher  de- 
gree, or  with  more  frequency.  As  man  therefure  hath  more 
in  him  of  Divine  resemblance,  of  God's  natural  likeness 
and  image ;  good  men  of  his  moral,  holy  image ;  we  ought 
to  love  men  more  than  the  inferior  creatures ;  and  those 
that  are  good  and  holy,  more  than  other  men  ;  and  those 
with  whom  we  are  more  concerned,  with  a  more  definite 
love,  and  which  is  required  to  be  more  frequent  in  its 
exercise.  But  all  from  ihe  attractive  of  somewhat  Divine 
appearing  in  the  object.  So  that  all  rational  love,  or  that 
is  capable  of  being  regulated  and  measured  by  a  law,  is 
only  so  far  right  in  its  own  kind,  as  we  love  God  in  every 
thing,  and  every  thing  upon  his  account,  and  for  his  sake. 
The  nature  and  spirit  of  man  is,  by  the  apostacy,  be- 
come disaffected  and  strange  to  God,  alienated  from  the 
Divine  life,  addicted  to  a  particular  limited  good,  to  the 
creature  for  itself,  apart  from  God  ;  whereupon  the  things 
men  love,  are  their  idols,  and  their  love  idolatry.  But 
where,  by  regeneration,  a  due  propension  towards  God 
is  restored,  the  universal  good  draws  their  minds,  they 
become  inclined  and  enlarged  towards  it ;  and  as  that  is 
diffused,  their  love  follows  it,  and  flows  towards  it  every 
where.  They  love  all  things  principally  in  and  for  God ; 
and  therefore  such  men  most,  as  excel  in  goodness,  and 
in  whom  the  Divine  image  more  brightly  shines.  There- 
fore it  is,  most  especially,  Christian  charity  that  is  here 
meant,  i.  e.  which  worifs  towards  Christians  as  such. 
For  compare  this  with  the  foregoing  chapter,  and  it  will 
appear  that  charity  is  treated  of  in  this,  which  is  the  vital 
bond  of  holy,  living  union  in  the  Cliristian  church  sup- 
posed in  the  other.  Whereby  as  the  body  is  one,  and  hath 
many  members,  and  all  the  members  of  that  body  being 
many,  are  one  body;  so  also  is  Christ,  v.  12.  This  prin- 
ciple refined,  rectified,  recovered  out  of  its  state  of  dege- 
neracy, and  now  obtaining  in  the  soul  as  a  part  of  the  new 
creature,  or  the  new  man  which  is  after  God,  as  it  hath 
man  for  its  object  more  especially,  and  more  or  less  accord- 
ing to  what  there  appears  of  Divine  in  him,  is  the  charity 
here  spoken  of  Now  of  this  Divine  charity  it  is  said, 
which  we  are  to  consider, 

2.  In  the  second  place.  It  rejoices  not  in  iniquity.  Here- 
of it  cannot  be  needful  to  say  much  by  way  of  explication. 
The  thing  carries  a  prodigious  appearance  with  it ;  and  it 
might  even  amaze  one  to  think,  that  on  this  side  hell,  or 
short  of  that  state,  wherein  the  malignity  of  wickedness 
attains  its  highest  pitch,  any  appearance  should  be  found 
of  it.  Yet  we  cannot  think,  but  these  elogies  of  charity 
do  imply  reprehensions,  and  tacitly  insinuate  too  great  a 
proneness  to  this  worst  sort  of  tTri^^aipcvavia  or  rejoicing  in 
evil.  Gnostics  (or  the  sect  afterwards  known  by  that 
name)  gave  already  too  great  occasion  for  many  more  ex- 
press and  sharp  reproofs  of  this  temper ;  which  were  not 
thrown  into  the  air,  or  meant  to  nobody.  The  Scripture 
saith  not  in  vain.  The  spirit  which  is  in  us  lusteth  to  envy. 
With  which,  what  affinity  this  disposition  hath,  we  shall 
have  occasion  to  note  anon.  Rejoicing  in  iniquity  may 
be  taken  (if  we  abstract  from  limiting  circumstances)  two 
ways: — either  in  reference  to  our  own  sins: — or  to  other 
men's.  Our  own ;  when  we  take  pleasure  in  the  design,  or 
in  the  commission,  or  in  the  review  and  after-contempla- 
tion of  them:  converse  in  that  impure  region,  as  in  our 
native  element,  drink  it  in  like  water,  find  it  sweet  in  the 
mouth,  and  hide  it  under  the  tongue,  &c.  Other  men's; 
when  'tis  counted  a  grateful  sight,  becomes  matter  of  mirth 
and  sport,  to  see  another  stab  at  once  the  Christian  name, 
and  his  own  soul.  The  scope  and  series  of  the  apostle's 
discourse,  doth  here  plainly  determine  it  this  latter  way  : 
for  as  charity  (the  subject  of  his  whole  discourse)  respects 
other  men ;  so  must  this  contrary  disposition  also.  De 
iniquitat^  procul  dubio  aliend,  &c.,  saith  Cajetan  upon  this 
place :  '  Tis,  without  do-ubt,  unapt  to  rejoice  in  the  sins  of 
other  men  ;  for  neither  can  it  endure  one's  own.  And  this 
aptness  to  rejoice  in  the  iniquity  of  others,  may  be  upon 
several  accounts.  It  may  either  proceed  from" an  affec- 
tion to  their  sins, — from  an  undue  self-love, — or  from  an 
excessive  disaftection  to  the  persons  offending. 

1.  From  a  great  affection  and  inclination  unto  the  same 

kind  of  sins  which  they  observe  in  others.     Whereupon 

they  are  glad  of  their  patronage ;  and  do  therefore  not  only 

■do  such  things,  but  take  pleasure  in  them  that  do  them. 

35 


Rom.  i.  Men  are  too  prone  to  justify  themselves  by  the 
example  of  others,  against  their  common  rule.  "  Others 
take  their  liberty,  and  why  may  not  I  1"  And  so  they  go 
(as  Seneca  sa)-s  sheep  do)  non  qua  eundum  est,  sed  qua 
itur,  the  way  which  is  trodden,  not  which  ought  to  be. 

2.  From  an  undue  and  over-indulgent  love  of  them- 
selves. Whence  it  is,  that  (as  the  case  may  be)  they  take 
pleasure  to  think  there  are  some  men,  that  perhaps  outdo 
them  in  wickedness,  and  offend  in  some  grosser  kind  than 
they  have  done.  And  so  they  have,  they  count,  a  grateful 
occasion,  not  only  to  justify  themselves,  that  they  are  not 
worse  than  other  men,  but  to  magriify  themselves,  that 
they  are  not  so  bad ;  as  the  Pharisee  in  his  pompous,  h3'po- 
critical  devotion,  "  God,  I  thank  thee  (that  attribution  to 
God,  being  only  made  a  colour  of  arrogating  more  plausi- 
bly to  himself)  that  I  am  not  as  other  men,  extortioners, 
unjust,  adulterers,"  &c.  Luke  xviii.  11.  whereby  the  hypo- 
crite, while  he  would  extol,  doth  but  the  more  notoriously 
stigmatize  himself. 

3.  From  a  disaffection  they  bear  to  the  offenders;  whence 
they  are  glad  of  an  advantage  against  them :  that  they 
have  occasion  to  glory  in  their  flesh,  and  insult  over  their 
weakness.  It  must  be  that  rejoicing  in  other  men's  .sins, 
which  is  most  contrary  to  charity,  that  is  here  more  espe- 
cially meant.  And  that  is  manifestly  the  last  of  these; 
such  as  proceeds  from  ill  will  to  the  person  that  ofl^ends; 
whereupon  we  are  glad  of  his  halting,  (which  perhaps  we 
watched  for  before,)  and  when  his  foot  slippeth,  magnify 
ourselves  against  him.  Now  rejoicing  at  the  sins  of  other 
men,  upon  this  accomit,  may  be  either — 1.  Secret,  when 
only  the  heart  feels  an  inward  complacency,  and  is  sen- 
sibly gratified  thereby ;  or — 2.  Open,  when  that  inward 
pleasure  breaks  forth  into  external  expressions  of  triumph 
and  insultation,  into  derision,  scoffs,  and  sarcasms. 

II.  And  how  inconsistent  this  is  with  the  charity  which 
our  apostle  so  highly  magnifies,  it  is  now  our  next  business 
to  show.  And  it  will  appear  by  comparing  this  rejoicing 
in  other  men's  sins;  1.  With  charity  itself, — 2.  With  what 
it  is,  ever,  in  most  certain  connexion  with. 

1.  With  charity  itself;  and  so  we  shall  consider  it, — 
1.  In  its  own  nature,  abstractly  and  absolutely : — 2.  In 
relation  to  its  original,  and  exemplary  cause.  And  shall 
compare  this  rejoicing  in  the  sins  of  other  men  with  it 
both  ways. 

1.  Consider  charity  in  its  own  nature  ;  and  .so  it  is  the 
loving  another  as  myself,  so  as  to  desire  his  welfare  and 
felicity  as  my  own  :  where  we  must  note,  that  love  to 
ourselves,  is  the  measure  of  the  love  we  owe  to  others. 
But  ye  are  also  to  consider,  that  this  measure  itself  is 
to  be  measured :  for  we  are  not  to  measure  our  love  to 
others,  by  the  love  we  bear  to  ourselves,  otherwise,  than 
as  that  also  agrees  with  our  superior  rule  ;  which  obliges 
us  so  to  love  ourselves,  as  to  design  and  seek  our  own 
true  felicity,  and  best  good;  to  "  lay  hold  on  eternal  life, 
to  work  out  our  own  salvation."  If  in  other  instances  we 
were  not  so  to  understand  the  matter,  (since  the  particular 
precepts  extend  no  further  than  the  general  one.)  any  man 
might,  without  transgression,  destroy  another  man's  goods, 
when  he  hath  learned  to  be  prodigal  of  what  he  is  master 
of  himself;  and  might  make  himself  master  of  another 
man's  life,  whensoever  he  cares  not  for  his  own.  And  so 
by  how  much  more  profligately  wicked  any  man  is,  he 
should  be  so  much  the  less  a  transgressor. 

We  are  not  so  absolutely  uvrtforinoi,  or  so  much  our 
own,  that  we  may  do  what  we  will  with  ourselves.  We 
are  accountable  to  him  that  made  us,  for  our  usage  of 
ourselves;  and  in  making  ourselves  miserable,  make  our- 
selves deeply  guilty  also.  We  were  made  with  a  possibi- 
lity of  being  happ}-.  He  that  made  us  with  souls  capable 
of  a  blessed  state,  will  exact  an  account  of  us,  what  we 
have  done  with  his  creature.  He  that  commits  a  felony 
upon  his  own  life,  injures  his  prince  and  the  community 
to  which  he  belongs.  The  one  is  robbed  of  a  subject, 
the  other  of  a  member  that  might  be  useful ;  wherein 
both  had  a  right.  No  man  is  made  for  himself  And 
therefore  the  fact  is  animadverted  on,  and  punished  as 
far  as  is  possible  in  what  remains  of  the  offender,  in  his 
posterity,  from  whom  his  goods  are  confiscate ;  in  his 
name,  which  bears  a  mark  of  infamy,  and  is  made  a  pub- 
lic reproach.   How  unspeakably  greater  is  the  \vTong  done 


4f^ 


OF  CHARITY  IN  REFERENCE 


to  the  common  Ruler  of  the  whole  world,  when  a  soul 
destroys  itself!  loses  its  possibility  of  praising  and  glori- 
fying him  eternally  in  the  participation  and  communion  of 
his  eternal  glory !  how  great  to  the  glorious  society  of 
saints  and  angels '  from  whom  he  factiously  withdraws 
himself,  and  who  (though  that  loss  be  recompensed  to 
them  by  their  satisfaction  in  the  just  vengeance  which  the 
offended  God  takes  upon  the  disloyal,  apostate  wretch) 
were  to  have  plcEised  and  solaced  themselves  in  his  joint 
felicity  with  their  own.  So  that  he  hath  done  what  in 
him  lay,  to  make  them  miserable,  and  even  to  turn  heaven 
into  a  place  of  mourning  and  lamentation. 

The  supreme,  primary  law  under  which  we  all  are, 
obliges  us  to  be  happy.  For  it  binds  us  to  take  "  the 
Lord  only  for  our  God  ;  to  love  him  with  all  our  hearts, 
and  minds,  and  souls,  and  strength."  And  so  to  love 
him,  is  to  enjoy  him,  to  delight  and  acquiesce  finally  and 
ultimately  in  him,  and  satisfy  ourselves  for  ever  in  his 
fulness.  So  that  every  man  is  rebellious  in  being  misera- 
ble, and  that  even  against  the  first  and  most  deeply  funda- 
mental law  of  his  creation.  Nor  can  he  love  God  in  obe- 
dience to  that  law,  without  loving  himself  aright.  Which 
love  to  himself,  is  then  to  be  the  measure  of  the  love  he  is 
to  bear  to  other  men  ;  and  so  most  truly  it  is  said,  that 
charity  begins  at  home.  Every  man  ought  to  seek  his 
own  true  felicity,  and  then  to  desire  another's  as  his 
own. 

But  now  consider  what  we  are  to  compare  herewith. 
Rejoicing  in  the  sins  of  other  men,  how  contrary  is  it  to 
the  most  inward  nature !  to  the  pure  essence !  how  directly 
doth  it  strike  at  the  very  heart  and  soul,  the  life  and  spirit, 
of  charity !  For  sin  is  the  greatest  and  highest  infelicity  of 
the  creature;  depraves  the  soul  within  itself,  vitiates  its 
powers,  deforms  its  beauty,  extingnisheth  its  light,  cor- 
rupts its  purity,  darkens  its  glory,  disturbs  its  tranquillity 
and  peace,  violates  its  harmonious,  joyful  state  and  order, 
and  destroys  its  very  life.  It  disaffects  it  to  God,  severs 
it  from  him,  engages  his  justice  and  inflames  his  wrath 
against  it. 

What  is  it  now  to  rejoice  in  another  man's  sin?  Think 
what  It  is,  and  how  impossible  it  is  to  be  where  the  love 
of  God  hath  anyplace.  What!  to  be  glad  that  such  a 
one  is  turning  a  man  into  a  devil !  a  reasonable,  immortal 
soul,  capable  of  heaven,  into  a  fiend  of  hell !  To  be  glad 
that  such  a  soul  is  tearing  itself  off  from  God,  is  blasting 
its  own  eternal  hopes,  and  destroying  all  its  possibilities 
of  a  future  well-being !  Blessed  God  !  how  repugnant  is 
this  to  charity  1  For  let  us  consider  what  it  is  that  we  can 
set  in  directest  opposition  to  it.  Let  charity  be  the  loving 
of  another  as  I  ought  to  do  myself;  its  opposite  must  be, 
the  hating  of  another,  as  I  should  not  and  cannot  sustain 
to  do  myself  As  loving  another  therefore  includes  my 
desire  of  his  felicit}',  and  whatsoever  is  requisite  to  it  till 
it  be  attained,  and  my  joy  for  it  when  it  is  ;  loathne.ss  of 
his  future,  and  grief  for  his  present,  infelicity,  as  if  the  case 
were  m)^  own  ;  so  hating  another  must  equally  and  most 
essentially  include  aversion  to  his  future  good,  and  grief 
for  his  present,  (which  is  the  precise  notion  of  envy,)  the 
desire  of  his  infelicity,  and  whatsoever  will  infer  it  till  it 
be  brought  about,  and  joy  when  it  is,  or  when  I  behold 
what  is  certainly  conjunct  with  it.  Which  is  the  very 
wickedness  the  text  animadverts  on,  as  most  contra.ry  to 
charity;  the  iT7iyaipe'<a-;in,  which  not  only  the  Spirit  of  Grod 
in  the  Holy  Scriptures,  but  the  very  philosophy  of  pagans, 
doth  most  highly  decry  and  declaim  against :  which  is  of 
the  same  family  you  see  with  envy;  and  no  other  way 
differs  from  it  than  as  the  objects  are  variously  posited. 
Let  the  harm  and  evil  of  my  brother  be  remote  from  him, 
and  his  good  be  present,  I  envy  it.  Let  his  good  be  re- 
mote, and  any  harm  or  mischief  be  present  and  urgent 
upon  him,  I  rejoice  in  it.  Both  are  rooted  in  hatred,  the 
directest  violation  of  the  royal  law  of  loving  my  neighbour 
as  myself.  Jam.  ii.  8.  And  it  is  that  sort  of  ivt^aipcKaKia^ 
which  hath  most  of  horror,  and  the  very  malignity  of  hell 
in  it ;  as  the  sin  of  another,  wherein  this  joy  is  taken,  is  an 
evil  against  the  great  God,  (which  there  will  be  occasion 
more  directly  to  consider  hereafter,)  as  well  as  to  him  that 
commits  it ;  a  wrong  to  the  former,  and  a  hurt  to  the  lat- 
ter; whereas  other  infelicities  are  evils  to  him  only  whom 
they  befall. 


2.  Consider  charity  in  relation  to  its  original,  and  ex- 
emplar. And  so  it  is  immediately  from  God,  and  his  very 
image.  God  is  love,  and  he  that  dwelleth  in  love,  dwelleth 
in  God,  and  God  in  him,  I  John  iv.  16.  And  what  sort 
of  love  is  this  which  is  made  so  identical,  and  the  same 
thing,  with  the  very  being  and  nature  of  God;  not  a 
turbid  and  tumultuous,  not  a  mean  and  ignoble,  not  an 
imprudent,  rash,  and  violent,  lea«t  of  all,  an  impure,  pol- 
luted passion :  but  a  most  calm,  wise,  majestic,  holy  will 
to  do  good  to  his  creatures,  upon  terms  truly  worthy  of 
God.  Good-will,  most  conjunct  with  the  other  inseparable 
perfections  of  the  Godhead :  whence,  with  expressions  of 
the  most  benign  propensions  towards  his  creatures,  he  still 
conjoins  declarations  of  his  hatred  of  sin,  upon  all  oc- 
casions: that  he  is  not  a  God  that  takes  pleasure  in 
wickedness,  nor  can  evil  dwell  with  him,  that  sin  is  the 
abominable  thing  which  his  soul  loathes;  that  he  is  of 
purer  eyes,  than  to  look  on  iniquity.  What  can  now  be 
more  contrary  to  the  pure  and  holy  love,  which  shall  re- 
semble and  be  the  image  of  his,  than  to  rejoice  in  iniquity  1 
For  as  God,  while  he  loves  the  person,  hates  the  sin,  men 
do  in  this  case  love  the  sin,  and  hate  the  person.  And 
while  this  horrid,  impure  malignity  is  not  from  God.  or 
like  him,  (far  be  the  thought  from  us,)  from  whom  doth  it 
derive  1  Whom  doth  it  resemble  1  We  read  but  of  two 
general  fathers,  whose  children  are  specified  and  distin- 
guished, even  by  this  very  thing,  or  its  contrary,  in  a  fore- 
mentioned  text,  1  John  iii.  10.  where,  when  both  the 
fathers  and  their  children  are  set  in  opposition  to  one 
another,  this,  of  not  loving  one's  brother,  is  given  at  once, 
both  as  the  separating  note  of  them  who  are  not  of  God's 
family  and  offspring,  not  of  him,  as  the  expression  is, 
having  nothing  of  his  holy,  blessed  imag.c  and  nature  in 
them,  (and  who  consequently  must  fetch  their  pedigree 
from  hell,  and  acknowledge  themselves  spawned  of  the 
devil,)  and  as  a  .summary  of  all  unrighteousness,  as  it  is 
being  taken  (as  often)  for  the  duty  of  the  second  table,  or 
as  a  very  noted  part  of  it  taken  in  its  utmost  latitude. 
Agreeably  to  that  of  our  Saviour,  John  viii.  44.  Ye  are 
of  your  father  the  devil — he  was  a  murderer  from  the 
beginning — as  every  one  is  said  to  be  that  hateth  his 
brother,  1  John  ii.  15.  If  therefore  we  can  reconcile 
God  and  the  devil  together,  heaven  and  hell,  we  may  also 
charity  and  rejoicing  at  other  men's  sins. 

2.  The  inconsistency  of  these  two  will  further  appear, 
by  comparing  this  monstrous  disaffection  of  mind  with 
the  inseparable  concomitants  of  charity,  or  such  things  as 
are  in  connexion  with  it.  And  the  argument  thence  will 
be  also  strong  and  enforcing,  if  that  concomitancy  shall 
be  found  to  be  certain,  and  the  connexion  firm,  between 
those  things  and  charity.  I  shall  only  give  instance  in 
four  things,  which  every  one  that  examines  will  acknow- 
ledge to  be  so  connected;  viz.  wisdom  and  prudence  : — 
piety  and  sincere  devotedness  to  God  and  the  Redeemer: 
— purity:  and — humility.  Moralists  generally  acknow- 
ledge a  concatenation  of  the  virtues.  Those  that  are 
truly  Christian  are  not  the  less  connected,  but  the  more 
strongly  and  surely.  Which  connexion  of  these  now 
mentioned  with  charity,  we  shall  see  as  to  each  of  them 
severally;  and  at  the  same  time,  their  inconsistency  with 
this  vile  temper  and  practice. 

1.  For  wisdom  or  prudence,  it  is  so  nearly  allied  to 
charity,  that  it  is  mentioned  by  the  same  name,  Jam.  iii. 
17.  "The  wisdom  that  is  from  above,  is  first  pure,  then 
peaceable,  gentle,  &e.  The  foregoing  words  (v.  IG.)  show 
that  love  is  meant.  These  words  represent  the  heavenly 
descent,  and  the  true  nature  of  it,  both  together.  That  it 
is  called  wisdom,  shows  its  affinity  with  it,  and  that  it 
partakes  of  its  nature ;  dwells  in  a  calm,  sedate  mind, 
void  of  disquieting  passions  and  perturbations,  which  it  is 
the  work  of  wisdom  to  repress  and  expel.  Indeed  the 
name  is  manifestly  intended  to  express,  generally,  the  tem- 
per, the  genius,  the  spirit  of  one  that  is  born  from  above, 
and  is  tending  thither.  The  contrary  temper,  a  disposition 
to  strife,  envy,  or  grief  for  the  good  of  another,  (which 
naturally  turns  into  joy,  for  his  evil,  when  his  case  alters,) 
is  called  wisdom  too,  but  with  sufficiently  distinguishing 
and  disgracing  additions.  It  is  said,  (v.  15.)  not  to  be 
from  above,  but  earthly,  sensual,  devilish ;  and  to  have  the 
contrary  effects  ;  where  envying  and  strife  is,  there  is  con- 


TO  OTHER  MEN'S  SINS. 


487 


fusion, b  (tumult  the  word  signifies,  or  disorder,  unquiet- 
ness,  disagreement  of  a  man  with  himself,  as  if  his  soul 
were  plucked  asunder,  torn  from  itself,)  and  every  evil 
work,  V.  16.  There  can  be  no  charily  towards  another  (as 
hath  been  noted)  where  there  is  not  first  a  true  love  to  a 
man's  own  soul,  which  is  the  immediate  measure  of  it ; 
nor  that,  where  there  is  not  prudence  to  discern  his  own 
best  good,  and  what  means  are  to  be  used  to  attain  it.  His 
true  good  he  is  not  to  expect  apart  by  himself,  but  as  a 
member  of  the  Christian  community.  Not  of  this  or  that 
party,  but  the  whole  animated  body  of  Christ.  In  which 
capacity  he  shares  in  the  common  felicity  of  the  whole, 
and  affects  to  draw  as  many  as  he  can  into  the  communion 
and  participation  of  it.  So  he  enjoys,  as  a  member  of  that 
body,  a  tranquillity  and  repose  within  himself  But  is 
undone  in  himself,  while  he  bears  a  disaffected  mind  to 
the  true  interest  and  welfare  of  the  body. 

Wherefore  to  rejoice  in  what  is  prejudicial  to  it,  is  con- 
trary to  prudence  and  charily  both  at  once.  Put  on,  (saith 
the  apostle,)  as  the  elect  of  God,  holy  and  beloved,  bowels 
of  mercies,  kindness,  humbleness  of  mind,  meekness,  long- 
suffering,  forbearing  one  another,  and  forgiving  one  ano- 
ther, if  any  man  have  a  quarrel  against  any :  even  as 
Christ  forgave  vou,  so  also  do  ye.  And  above  all  these 
things,  put  on  charity,  which  is  the  bond  of  perfectness. 
And  let  the  peace  of  God  rule  in  your  hearts,  to  the  which 
also  ye  are  called  in  one  body  ;  impljing  no  true  peace  or 
satisfaction  can  be  had,  but  in  vital  union  with  the  body. 
Is  he  a  wise,  or  is  he  not  a  mad  man,  that  rejoices  he  hath 
an  unsound  hand,  or  foot,  or  an  ulceraled  finger  or  toe 
rotting  off  from  him  1  or  that  is  glad  a  fire  or  the  plague 
is  broken  out  in  the  neighbourhood,  that  equally  endangers 
his  own  house  and  family,  yea  and  his  own  life "? 

2.  Piety  and  devotedness  to  God  and  the  Redeemer,  is 
most  conjunct  with  true  charity.  By  this  we  know  that 
we  love  the  children  of  God,  when  we  love  God,  &c. 
1  John  V.  2.  For  the  true  reason  of  our  love  to  the  one, 
is  fetched  from  the  other,  as  hath  been  shown.  And  how 
absurd  were  it  to  pretend  love  to  a  Christian  upon  Christ's 
account  and  for  his  sake,  while  there  is  no  love  to  Christ 
himself!  But  can  it  consist  with  such  love  and  devoted- 
ness to  God,  to  be  glad  at  his  being  affronted  by  the  sin  of 
any  man  1  or  to  Christ,  whose  design  it  was  to  redeem  us 
from  all  iniquity,  and  to  bless  us,  in  turning  us  away  from 
our  iniquities,  to  rejoice  in  the  iniquity  that  obstructs,  and 
tends  to  frustrate  his  design  1  Uo  we  not  know  he  was  for 
this  end  manifested,  to  destroy  the  works  of  the  devil] 
And  ihat  the  works  of  wickedness  are  his  works  1  Do  we 
not  know,  the  great  God  is,  in  and  by  our  Redeemer, 
maintaining  a  war  against  the  devil,  and  the  subjects  of 
his  kingdom"?  in  which  warfare,  what  are  the  weapons, 
on  the  devil's  part,  but  sins  1  Who  but  sinners  his  soldiers  1 
And  who  is  there  of  us,  but  professes  to  be  on  God's  part 
in  this  war  1  Can  it  stand  with  our  duty  and  fidelity  to 
him,  to  be  glad  that  any  are  foiled,  who  profess  to  fight 
under  the  same  banner  i  what  would  be  thought  of  him, 
who  in  battle  rejoiceth  to  see  those  of  his  own  side  fall, 
here  one,  and  there  one  ?  He  would  surely  be  counted 
either  treacherous  or  mad. 

3.  Charity  of  the  right  kind,  is  most  certainl,y  connected 
with  purity.  The  end  (or  perfection)  of  the  command- 
ment (or  of  all  our  commanded  obedience)  is  charity,  out  of 
a  pure  heart,  1  Tim.  i.  5.  Sincere  Christians  are  such  as 
have  purified  their  souls,  in  obeying  the  truth  through  the 
Spirit,  unto  unfeigned  love  of  the  brethren ;  and  must  see, 
that  they  love  one  another  with  a  pure  heart,  fervently, 
1  Pet.  i.  22.  Pagans  have  taught,  there  is  no  such  thing 
as  true  friendly  love,  but  among  good  men.  But  how 
consists  it  with  such  purity,  to  take  pleasure  in  other  men's 
impurities,  or  make  their  sin  the  matter  of  jest  and  raillery  1 

4  A  further  inseparable  concomitant  of  charity,  is  deep 
humility.  We  find  them  joined,  and  are  required  to  put 
them  on  together,  in  the  already  mentioned  context.  PiU 
on  kindness,  humbleness  of  mind ;  above  all  put  on 
charity,  (Col.  iii.)  and  do  find  it  among  these  celebrations 
of  charity,  that  it  vaunteth  not  itself,  and  is  not  puffed  up. 
V.  4.  Nor  can  we  ever,  with  due  charity,  compassionate 
the  wants  and  infirmities  of  others,  if  we  feel  not  our  own. 
Which  if  we  do,  though  we  are  not,  ourselves,  guilty  of 


heinous  wickednesses,  we  shall  so  entirely  ascribe  it  to  di- 
vine, preserving  mercy,  as  to  be  in  little  disposition  to  re- 
joice that  others  are. 

Use.  We  may  then,  upon  the  whole,  learn  hence,  how 
we  are  to  demean  ourselves  in  reference  to  the  sins  of 
other  men.  So,  no  doubt,  a.s  charity  doth  command,  and 
require  :  at  least,  so  as  it  doih  allow,  or  not  forbid.  We 
are  manifestly  concerned,  not  to  offer  violence  to  so  sacred 
a  thing;  and  shall  be  secure  from  doing  it  both  the.se  ways. 
We  may  therefore  under  these  two  heads,  take  direction 
for  our  behaviour  upon  such  occasions:  riz.  the  actual 
sins  of  others,  or  their  more  observable  inclinations  thereto. 

1.  We  should  faithfully  practise,  as  to  this  case,  such 
things  as  charity,  and  the  very  law  of  love,  doth  expressly 
require  and  oblige  us  to.     As  we  are, 

1.  To  take  heed  of  tempting  their  inclinations,  and  of 
inducing  others  to  sin,  whether  by  word  or  example  ;  we 
are,  otherwise,  obliged  to  avoid  doing  so,  and  this  greatly 
increases  the  obligation.  What  we  are  not  to  rejoice  in 
upon  the  account  of  charity ;  we  are,  upon  the  same  ac- 
count, much  less  to  procure.  Especially  take  heed  of  con- 
tributing to  other  men's  sins,  by  the  example  of  j'our  own. 
The  power  whereof,  though  it  be  silent  and  insensible,  is 
most  efficacious  in  all  men's  experience.  A  man  would 
perhaps  hear  the  verbal  proposal  of  that  wickedness  with 
horror  and  detestation,  which  he  is  gradually  and  with 
little  reluctance  drawn  into,  by  observing  it  in  other  men's 
practice.  A  downright  exhortation  to  it,  would  startle 
him.  But  the  conversation  of  such  as  familiarly  practise 
it,  gently  insinuates,  and  by  slower  degrees  alters  the  habit 
of  his  mind ;  secretly  conveys  an  infection  like  a  pesti- 
lential disease ;  so  that  the  man  is  mortally  seized  before 
he  feels,  and  when  he  suspects  no  danger. 

Most  of  all,  let  them  take  heed  of  mischieving  others  by 
their  sins,  who  are  men  of  more  knowledge  and  pretend 
to  more  strictness  than  others.  Perhaps  some  such  may 
think  of  taking  their  liberty  more  safely:  they  understand 
how  to  take  up  the  business  more  easily,  and  compoimd 
the  matter  with  God.  A  horrid  imagination  !  and  direct 
blasphemy  against  the  holy  Gospel  of  our  Lord  !  If  it 
were  true,  and  God  should  (do  what  is  so  little  to  be  hoped) 
mercifully  give  them  the  repentance  whereof  they  most 
wickedly  presume,  who  knows  but  others  may,  by  that 
example,  be  hardened  in  wickedness,  and  never  repent  1 
Yea,  if  thy  greater  knowledge  should  prompt  thee  to  do, 
unnecessarily,  that  which  (really,  and  abstracting  from 
circumstances)  is  not  a  sin  ;  but  which  another  took  to  be 
so,  and  thence  takes  a  libert}^  to  do  other  things  that  are 
certainly  sinful ;  yet  walkest  thou  not  charitably.  Through 
thy  knowledge  shall  a  weak  brother  perish  and  be  destroy- 
ed, for  W'hom  Christ  died  1  Rom.  xiv.  15.  with  1  Cor.  viii. 
10,  11.  Suppose  the  process  be,  as  from  sitting  in  an  idol's 
temple  to  idolatry,  so  from  needless  sitting  in  a  tavern,  to 
drunkenness  or  other  consequent  debaucheries.  But  if 
the  thing  be,  in  its  first  instance,  unquestionably  sinful,  of 
how  horrid  consequences  are  the  enormities  of  such  as 
have  been  taken  to  be  men  of  sanctity,  beyond  the  com- 
mon rate  1  What  a  stumbling  block  to  multitudes  !  How 
much  better  might  it  have  been  for  many  that  are  of  the 
Christian  profession,  if  such  had  never  been  Christians! 
And  most  probably  for  themselves  also  !  No  doubt  it  had 
been  more  for  the  honour  of  the  Christian  name.  How 
many  may  be  tempted  to  infidelity  and  atheism  by  one 
such  instance  !  And  whereas  those  scandalized  persons  do 
often,  afterwards,  incur  this  fearful  guilt  of  rejoicing  in 
the  iniquity  of  such,  even  that  also  they  have  to  answer 
for,  with  all  the  rest. 

2.  Charity  requires,  not  only  that  we  do  not  procure, 
but  that  we  labour,  as  much  as  is  possible,  to  prevent  the 
sin  of  others.  What,  in  this  kind,  we  are  not  to  rejoice  at, 
we  should  hinder.  And  indeed  what  we  do  not  hinder,  if 
it  be  in  our  power,  we  cause. 

3.  We  should  not  be  over-forward  to  believe  ill  of 
others.  Charity  will,  while  things  are  doubtful,  at  least, 
suspend.  See  how  immediately  conjunct  these  two  things 
are.  It  thinketh  no  evil,  rejoiceth  not  in  iniquity,  (v.  5,  6.) 
it  is  not  imaginative  or  surmising.  And  in  the  following 
verse,  (on  the  better  part,  it  must  be  understood,)  it  be- 
lieveth  all  things,  hopeth  all  things;  i.  c.  briefly,  it  is  unapt 


483 


OP  CHARITY  IN  REFERENCE 


to  believe  ill  without  groimd,  and  hopes  well,  as  long  as 
there  is  any.  But  it  is  not  so  blindly  pariial,  as  to  shut  its 
eyes  against  apparent  truth  (of  which  more  in  its  place.) 

4.  Much  less  should  we  report  things  at  random,  to  the 
prejudice  of  others.  That  character  of  an  inhabitant  in 
the  holy  hill,  must  not  be  forgotten,  that  taketh  not  up  a 
reproach  against  his  neighbour. 

5.  If  the  matter  particularly  concern  ourselves,  and  cir- 
cumstances comply,  we  must  have  recourse  first  to  the 
supposed  otfender  himself,  and  (as  our  Saviour  directs)  tell 
him  his  fault  between  him  and  thee  alone,  Matt,  xviii.  15. 

6.  We  ought  to  compassionate  his  case.  Not  rejoicing 
in  iniquity,  may  have  in  it  a  //a'cjai?.  More  may  be  meant ; 
we  are  sure  more  is  elsewhere  enjoined,  solemn  mourn- 
ing, and  the  omission  severely  blamed.  Ye  are  puffed  up, 
(1  Cor.  V.  2.)  (not  perhaps  so  much  with  pride,  as  vanity, 
and  lightness  of  spirit,  as  a  bladder  swollen  with  air, 
which  is  the  significancy  of  that  word,)  and  have  not 
rather  mourned.  Perhaps  he  is  burdened  with  grief  and 
shame.  A  Christian  heart  cannot  be  hard  towards  such 
a  one  in  that  case.  We  are  to  bear  one  another's  burdens, 
and  so  fulfil  the  law  of  Christ,  Gal.  vi.  2. 

7.  We  should,  as  our  capacity  and  circumstances  invite 
or  allow,  (at  least  by  our  prayers,)  endeavour  his  recovery. 
And  therein  use  all  the  gentleness  which  the  case  admits, 
and  which  is  suitable  to  a  due  sense  of  common  human 
frailty.  Take  the  instruction  in  the  apostle's  own  words, 
(Gal.  vi.  1.)  Brethren,  if  a  man  be  overtaken  in  a  fault, 
ye  which  are  spiritual,  restore  such  a  one  in  the  spirit  of 
meekness,  considering  thyself,  lest  thou  also  be  tempted. 

8.  We  must  take  heed,  upon  one  man's  account,  of 
censuring  others  ;  for  such  as  we  know  to  be  faulty,  those 
that  for  ought  we  know  (and  therefore  ought  to  hope)  are 
innocent.  A  practice  most  absurd  and  unrighteous,  con- 
trary to  common  reason  and  justice,  as  well  as  charity. 
Yet  that  whereto  some  are  apt  to  assume  a  licence,  upon 
so  slender  and  senseless  a  pretence,  i.  c.  because  some  that 
have  under  a  show  of  piety,  hidden  the  impurities  of  a 
secretly  vicious  life  ;  others  that  are  openly  profane,  and 
lead  notoriously  lewd  and  flagitious  lives,  (who,  though 
bad  enough,  are  so  far  the  honester  men,)  do  add  to  all 
their  oiher  wickedness,  that  folly  and  madness,  as  to  count 
all  men  h3'pocrites  that  are  not  as  bad  as  themselves;  and 
reckon  there  is  no  such  thing  as  real  religion  in  the  world. 
A  like  case  as  if,  because  sometimes  spectres  have  appear- 
ed in  human  shape,  one  should  conclude  there  is,  there- 
fore, no  such  creature  on  earth  as  a  very  man. 

2.  But  there  are  also  other  things  that  ought  to  come 
into  practice,  in  the  case  of  other  men's  sinning,  very 
suitable  to  the  case,  and  not  unsuitable  to  charity.  Which, 
though  they  proceed  more  directly,  rather,  from  some 
other  principle,  yet  are  not  inconsistent  with  this,  (as  the 
graces  of  God's  Spirit  and  the  duties  of  Christians  never 
interfere,  so  as  to  obstruct  or  hinder  one  another,) — things 
which,  though  charity  do  not  expressly  command,  yet  are 
otherwise  commanded,  and  which  charity  doth  not  forbid. 
As, 

1.  That  we  labour  to  avoid  the  contagion  of  their  ex- 
ample :  that  we  take  not  encouragement  to  sin  from  their 
sinning.  They  are  not  our  rule.  We  have  not  so  learn- 
ed Christ. 

2.  That  we  take  warning  by  it ;  and  endeavour  that 
their  example  may  not  only  not  be  tempting  to  us,  but  that 
it  may  be  monitory.  We  should  reckon  such  things  are 
our  examples,  for  this  purpose,  (1  Cor.  x.)  and  were  not 
only,  heretofore,  recorded  and  written,  but  they  are  also, 
in  our  own  days,  permitted  to  fall  out  for  our  admonition. 
We  that  think  we  stand,  should  therefore  take  heed  lest 
we  fall.  And  must  remember  we  are  to  stand  by  faith, 
and  are  not  to  be  high-minded,  but  fear.  'Tis  a  costly  in- 
struction that  is  given  us  in  such  instances.  Consider  the 
dolour  and  pangs  that  they  may  perhaps  endure  who  are 
our  monitors.  If  they  do  not  cry  to  us  to  beware,  their 
case  doth.  Reckon  as'the  Psalmist,  (Ps.  Ixxiii.)  It  is  good 
for  you  to  draw  near  to  God ;  they  that  are  far  from  him 
shall  perish.  Labour  to  be  sincere,  living  Christians.  Let 
me  tell  you  what  I  have  often  inculcated.  A  mere  form 
of  godliness  will  one  time  or  other  betray  you.  And  that 
it  is  not  being  of  this  or  that  party,  conjoined  with  a  for- 
mal, lifeless  religion,  that  will  secure  you  from  being 


public  scandals  on  earth,  and  accursed  wretches  in  hell. 
Let  every  one  prove  his  own  work,  and  make  thorough 
work  of  it ;  .so  shall  he  have  rejoicing  in  himself,  and  not 
in  another.  Gal.  vi.  (yea,  though  he  may  have  much  cause 
of  mourning  for  another,)  for  every  one  must,  at  last,  bear 
his  own  burden  and  give  an  account  of  himself  to  God. 

3.  Seriously  bless  God  for  being  kept  from  gross  and 
scandalous  enormities.  Such  words  savour  well,  spoken 
with  deep  humility,  and  unfeigned  sense  of  Divine  favour, 
not  with  Pharisaical  ostentation  and  scorn,  "God,  I  thank 
thee  I  am  not  as  other  men."  If  the  poor  man  was  so 
transported,  and  poured  out  his  soul  in  tears  of  gratitude 
to  God,  upon  the  sight  of  a  toad,  that  he  was  not  such  a 
creature  ;  how  much  more  cause  is  there  for  it,  upon  the 
sight  of  a  gross  sinner  !  For,  I  should  think,  "  Who  made 
me  differ  1  Why  was  not  I  the  example  1  and  reduced  to 
such  a  condition,  before  which  I  would  prefer  the  greatest 
sinless  misery  in  all  the  world  1" 

There  is  a  threefold  degree  of  mercy  in  our  preserva- 
tion from  more  heinous  and  reproachful  wickedness.  We 
may  owe  it  to  nature,  that  less  inclines  us  to  some  sins,  as 
gluttony,  drunkenness,  &c.  to  external  succedaneous  pro- 
vidence, that  keeps  us  out  of  the  way  of  temptation ;  or  to 
victorious  grace,  able  to  prevail,  both  against  corrupt  in- 
clinations of  nature,  and  whatsoever  temptations  also. 
God  is  to  be  acknowledged  in  all.  He  is  the  Author  of 
nature,  the  Ruler  in  providence,  the  Fountain  of  grace. 
Under  the  first  of  these  notions,  he  ought  more  to  be  eyed 
and  praised,  than  the  most  are  aware  of  I  could  tell  you, 
if  it  were  seasonable,  of  some  (and  no  despicable)  heathen 
philosophy,  which  speaks  of  such  an  ivchina,  or  goodness  ol 
natural  temper,  (though  the  word  hath  also  another  signi- 
fication,) that  is  said  to  carry  in  it  a  sort  of  seminal  pro- 
bity and  virtue  :  which,  when  it  shall  be  observed  how 
some  others  have  the  seeds  of  grosser  vitiosity,  and  of  all 
imaginable  calamities,  more  plentifully  sown  in  their  na- 
tures, there  is  no  little  reason  to  be  thankful  for.  Though 
all  are  bad  enough  by  nature  to  be  children  of  wrath,  and 
for  ever  miserable  without  special  mercy;  and  though 
again,  none  have  so  bad  natures,  as  to  be  thereby  excus- 
able in  wickedness,  (they  should  endeavour,  and  seek  re- 
lief the  more  earnestly,)  yet  some  are  less  bad,  and  their 
case  luore  remediable,  by  ordinary  means  ;  and  therefore 
the  difference  should  be  acknowledged  with  gratitude. 
And  surely  there  is  no  small  mercy,  in  being  kept  out  of 
the  way  oi'  temptation,  by  the  dispensation  of  a  more  fa- 
vourable providence,  that  orders  more  advantageously,  the 
circumstances  of  their  conditions  in  the  world,  so  as  they 
are  less  exposed  to  occasions  of  sin  than  others  are. 
Which  providence  I  called  succedaneous,  for  distinction's 
sake  ;  because  even  the  difference  of  natural  tempers  is 
owing  to  a  former  providence.  But  now  who  can  tell, 
what  they  should  be,  or  do,  in  such  circumstances  as  might 
have  befallen  theml  'Tis  a  singular  favour,  not  to  be  ex- 
posed to  a  dangerous  trial,  whereof  we  know  not  the  issue. 
Nor  yet  should  any  satisfy  themselves  without  that  grace 
which  can  stem  the  tide.  Which  they  that  possess,  how 
should  they  adore  the  God  of  all  grace  ! 

4.  Charity  doth  not  forbid,  and  the  case  itself  requires, 
that  when  others  do  grossly  and  scandalously  sin,  we 
should,  at  length,  upon  plain  evidence,  admit  a  conviction 
of  the  matter  of  fact.  For,  otherwise,  we  cannot  perform 
the  other  duty  towards  them,  unto  which  charity  doth  most 
expressly  oblige,  nor  discharge  a  higher  duty,  which  an- 
other love  requires,  that  ought  to  be  superior  to  all  other. 
No  charity  can  oblige  me  to  be  blind,  partial,  unjust,  un- 
true to  the  interest  of  God  and  religion.  When  we  are 
told  in  the  text,  It  rejoices  not  in  iniquity,  'tis  added  in  the 
next  breath,  It  rejoices  in  the  truth:  i.e.  in  equity  and 
righteous  dealing.  We  are  not  to  carry  alike  to  good  men 
and  bad;  and  are  therefore  sometime  to  distinguish  them, 
if  there  be  a  visible  ground  for  it,  or  to  take  notice  when 
they  manifestly  distinguish  themselves.  For  it  is  neces- 
sary to  what  is  next  to  ensue  :  viz.  that, 

5.  We  are  to  decline  their  society ;  /.  e.  when  their  hei- 
nous guilt  appears,  and  while  their  repentance  appears 
not.  Scripture  is  so  plain  and  copious  to  this  purpose, 
that  it  would  suppose  them  very  ignorant  of  the  Bible,  for 
whom  it  should  be  needful  to  quote  texts.  We  must 
avoid  them  for  our  own  sake,  that  we  be  not  infected,  nor 


TO  OTHER  MEN  S  SINS. 


489 


be  partakers  in  their  sin  and  guilt.  For  theirs,  (and  so 
charily  requires  it,)  that  they  may  be  ashamed,  which  may 
be  the  means  of  their  reduction  and  salvation  :  and  (which 
is  most  considerable^  for  the  honour  of  the  Christian  re- 
ligion, that  it  may  oe  vindicated,  and  rescued  fiom  re- 
proach, as  much  as  in  us  lies.  It  ought  to  be  very  grievous 
to  us,  when  the  reproach  of  our  religion  cannot  be  rolled 
away  without  being  rolled  upon  this  or  that  man  ;  if,  es- 
pecially, otherwise  valuable.  But  what  reputation  ought 
to  be  of  that  value  with  us,  as  his  that  bought  us  with  his 
blood?  The  great  God  is  our  example,  who  refuses  the 
fellowship  of  apostate  persons,  yea  and  churches :  departs, 
and  withdraws  his  atTronled  glory.  It  is  pure,  and  de- 
clines all  taint.  When  high  indignities  are  offered,  it 
takes  just  offence,  and  with  a  majestic  shyness  retires. 
None  have  been  so  openly  owned  by  the  Lord  of  glory,  as 
that  he  will  countenance  them  in  wickedness.  Though 
Coniah  (he  tells  us,  expressing  a  contempt  by  curtailing 
his  name)  were  the  signet  en  his  right  hand,  yet  would  he 
pluck  him  thence.  Yea,  and  our  Saviour  directs.  If  our 
right-hand  itself  prove  offensive,  we  must  cast  it  from  us, 
Matt.  V.  30.  And  to  the  same  purpose,  (chap,  xviii.)  in  the 
next  words  after  he  had  said,  Wo  to  the  world  because  of 
offences:  it  must  be  that  offences  will  come,  but  wo  to 
him  by  whom  the  offence  cometh.  Wherefore  if  thy  hand 
offend,  &c.  ver.  7,  8.  It  must  be  done  as  to  a  hand,  a  limb 
of  our  body,  with  great  tenderness,  sympathy,  and  sense  of 
smart  and  pain  ;  but  it  must  be  done.'=  Dilcctioiicm  audio, 
non  comniunicalionem ;  I  hear  of  love,  not  communion,  sailh 
an  ancient  upon  this  occasion. 

6.  We  must  take  heed  of  despondency^,  by  reason  of  the 
sins  of  others,  or  of  being  discouraged  in  the  way  of  godli- 
ness ;  much  more  of  being  diverted  from  it.  Indeed  the 
greatest  temptation  which  this  case  gives  hereunto,  is  (to 
this  purpose)  very  inconsiderable  and  contemptible,  /.  e. 
that  by  reason  of  the  a  lascivious  ways  of  some,  (as  that 
word  signifies,  and  is  fittest  to  be  read;  referred  to  the  im- 
purities of  the  Gnostics,  as  they  came  to  be  called,)  the 
■way  of  truth  (i.  e.  Christianity  itself)  is  evil  spoken  of. 
But  this  ought  to  be  heard  (in  respect  of  the  scoffers  tliem- 
selves  with  great  pity,  but)  in  respect  of  their  design  to 
put  serious  Christians  out  of  their  way,  Avith  disdain ;  and 
with  as  little  regard,  or  commotion  oi"  mind,  as  would  be 
occasioned  (so  one  well  expresses  it)  to  a  traveller,  intent 
upon  his  journey,  by  themowesand  grimaces  of  monkeys 
or  baboons.  Shall  I  be  disquieted,  grow  weary,  and  for- 
sake my  wa)'',  because  an  uuAvary  person  stumbles,  and 
falls  in  it,  and  one  ten  times  worse,  and  more  a  fool  than 
he,  laughs  at  him  for  iti  We  must  in  such  cases  mourn 
indeed  for  both,  but  not  faint.  And  if  we  mourn,  upon  a 
true  account,  we  shall  easilj'  apprehend  it,  in  its  cause, 
very  separable  from  fainting  and  despondenc}'.  It  is  a 
discouraging  thing  for  any  party  to  be  stigmatized,  and 
have  an  ill  mark  put  upon  them,  from  the  defection  of  this 
or  that  person  among  them,  that  was,  perhaps,  what  he 
seemed  not,  or  was  little  thought  to  be.  But  if  we  be  more 
concerned  for  the  honour  of  the  Christian  name,  than  of 
any  one  party  in  the  world,  our  mourning  will  not  be, 
principally,  upon  so  private  an  account.  All  wise  and 
good  men,  that  understand  the  matter,  will  heartily  concur 
with  us,  and  count  themselves  obliged  to  do  so.  None  that 
are  such,  or  any  man  that  hath  the  least  pretence  to  rea- 
son, justice,  or  common  sense,  will  ever  allow  themselves 
to  turn  the  faults  of  this  or  that  particular  person  (that  are 
discountenanced  as  soon  as  they  are  known)  to  the  re- 
proach of  a  part}^.  For  others,  that  are  aptest  to  do  so, 
men  of  debauched  minds  and  manners;  with  whom,  not 
being  of  this  or  that  party,  but  religion  itself,  is  a  reproach. 
I  would  advise  all  serious  and  sober-minded  Christians, 
(of  whatsoever  way  or  persuasion,)  if  they  be  twitted  with 
the  wickedness  of  any  that  seemed  to  be  such  and  were 
not,  to  tell  the  revilers,  "  They  are  more  akin  to  you  than 
to  us,  and  were  more  of  your  party  (howsoever  they  dis- 
guised themselves)  than  of  any  other  we  know  of." 

And  if  yet,  after  all  this,  any  will  give  themselves  the 
liberty  to  rejoice  at  the  sins  of  other  men,  and  make  them 
-he  matter  of  their  sport  and  divertisement,  or  take  any  the 
least  pleasure  in  observing  them,  I  have  but  these  two 
things,  in  tiie  general,  to  say  to  them; — You  have  no 
c  TcrtulliaiL 


rea.son  to  rejoice. — You  have  great  reason  for  the  con- 
trary. 

You  have  first,  no  reason  to  rejoice  :  for  produce  y^'ir 
cause,  let  us  hear  your  strong  reasons. 

1.  Is  it  that  such  are  like  you,  and  as  bad  men  as  your- 
selves 1     But, 

1.  What  if  they  be  not  like  you"?  Ever}-- one,  perhaps, 
is  not,  at  whose  sins  (real  or  supposed)  }'ou  at  a  venture 
take  liberty  to  rejoice  ;  what  il  your  guilt  be  real.,  theirs 
but  imagined!  Sometimes  through  your  too  much  haste, 
it  may  prove  so ;  and  then  your  jest  is  spoiled,  and  you 
are  found  to  laugh* only  at  your  own  shadow.  At  least 
you  cannot,  many  times,  so  certainly  know  another's  guilt 
as  you  may  your  own  ;  and  so  run  the  hazard  (which  a 
wise  man  would  not)  of  making  yourselves  the  ridicule. 
And  supposing  your  guess,  in  any  part,  hit  right ;  what  if 
those  others  sin  by  surprise,  you  by  design  1  the}'  in  an 
act,  you  in  a  course"?  thej'^  in  one  kind  of  lewdness,  you  in 
every  kindl  they  sin  and  are  penitent,  you  sin  and  are 
obdurate  1  they  return,  you  persevere  1  they  are  ashamed, 
you  glory  1  The.se  are  great  differences  (if  they  are  really 
to  be  found)  in  any  such  case.     But, 

2.  If  they  be  not  found,  and  those  others  be  like  you 
throughout,  ever}'  whit  as  bad  as  yourselves,  this  is  sure 
no  great  matter  of  glorying,  that  I  am  not  the  very  worst 
thing  in  all  the  world!  the  vilest  creature  that  ever  God 
made !  Should  it  be  a  solace  to  me  also  that  there  are 
devils,  who  may  perhaps  be  somewhat  worse  than  they  or 
I  ?  Nor  though  they  fall  in  never  so  entirely  with  j'ou  in 
all  points  of  wickedness,  will  that  much  mend  your  mat- 
ter 1  Can  their  wit  add  to  yours,  prove  there  will  be  no 
judg-ment-day  1  or  that  there  is  no  God  1  or,  if  that  per- 
formance fail,  can  their  power  and  yours  defend  yon 
against  the  Almighty  1  Though  hand  join  in  hand,  the 
wicked  will  not  go  unpunished.    Or  again, 

'2.  Suppose  you  are  not  of  the  debauched  crew;  is  this 
your  reason  why  5-ou  at  least  think  you  may  indulge  j-our- 
self  some  inward  pleasure,  that  wickedness  (yoit  observe) 
breaks  out  among  them  who  are  of  a  distinct  parly  from 
3'ou,  which  you  count  may  signift'  somewhat  to  tlie  better 
reputation  of  your  ownl 

But  are  you  then  of  a  party  of  which  you  are  sure  there 
are  no  ill  men  1  There  are  too  many  faults  among  all 
parties ;  but  God  knows  it  is  fitter  for  us  all  to  mend, 
than  to  recriminate.  Yea,  but  the  party  we  are  of,  pro- 
fesses not  so  much  strictness.  No"?  What  party  should  you 
be  of,  that  professes  less  strictness  "?  What  more  lax  rule  of 
morals  have  you  than  other  Christians!  Do  you  not  pro- 
fess subjection  to  the  known  rules  of  the  Bible,  concerning 
Christian  and  civil  conversation  1  You  do  not  sure  profess 
rebellion  and  hostility  against  th<;  Lord  that  bought  j'ou! 
Doth  not  your  baptismal  covenant  (which  you  are  suppos- 
ed to  avow)  bind  3'ou  to  as  much  strictness  as  any  other 
Christian!  and  can  there  be  any  other  more  sacred  bond! 

But  if  in  other  things,  than  matters  of  civil  conversation, 
such  delinquent  persons  were  of  a  stricter  profession,  (sup- 
pose it  be  in  matters  of  religion  and  worship,)  doth  that 
delinquency  prove,  that  in  those  other  things,  yon  are  in 
the  right  and  they  are  in  the  wrong  !  Doth  the  wicked- 
ness of  any  person,  against  the  rules  of  the  common,  as 
well  as  his  own  stricter  profession,  prove  the  profession  he 
is  of  to  be  false  !  Then,  wherein  the  profession  of  pro- 
lestants  is  stricter  than  of  other  Christians,  the  notorious 
sins  of  wicked  protestants,  will  conclude  against  the  whole 
profession.  And  the  wickedness  of  a  Christian,  because 
Christianity  is  a  stricter  profession  than  paganism,  will 
prove  the  Christian  religion  to  be  false.  Who  doubts  but 
there  may  be  found,  of  the  Roman  commtmion,  better  men 
than  some  protestants,  and  of  pagans,  better  men  than  some 
Christians!  But  then,  they  are  better,  only  in  respect  of 
some  things,  wherein  all  Christians,  or  all  men,  do  agree  in 
their  sentiments,  not  in  respect  of  the  things  -wherein  they 
differ.  And  the  others  are  worse,  in  things  that  have  no  con- 
nexion with  the  matter  of  difference.  Enough  is  to  be  found 
to  this  purpose,  in  some  of  the  ancients,  writing  on  the  be- 
half of  Christians,  which  we  need  not,  in  so  plain  a  case. 
Nor  can  it  be  thought,  that  men  of  any  understanding  and 
sobrieiv,  will  make  this  any  argument,  one  way  or  other; 
or  think  ihein  at  all  justifiable^  that  glory  in  other  men's 

d  aatKyaaii,  2 Pet.  ii.  2. 


190 


OF  CHARITY  IN  REFERENCE  TO  OTHER  MEN'S  SINS. 


wickedness,  upon  this  or  any  other  account.  For  such 
therefore,  as  are  of  so  ill  a  mind,  and  think  being  of  a 
ditfeient  pariy  gives  them  licence,  they  ought  to  know, 
they  make  themselves  of  the  same  parly;  and  that  upon  a 
worse  account,  than  any  difference  in  the  rituals  of  reli- 
gion can  amount  to.  Upon  the  whole,  your  reason  then 
(allege  what  you  will)  is  no  reason,  and  argues  nothing 
but  shortness  of  discourse  and  want  of  reason ;  or  that  you 
would  fain  say  something  to  excuse  an  ill  practice,  when 
you  have  nothing  to  say.     But  I  must  add, 

2.  That  you  have  much  reason  to  the  contrary,  both 
upon  the  common  account,  and  your  own. 

1.  Upon  the  common  account.  That  the  Christian 
world  should,  while  it  is  so  barren  of  serious  Christians, 
be  so  fertile,  and  productive  of  such  monsters !  made  up 
of  the  sacred  Christian  profession,  conjoined  with  (even 
v/orse  than)  paganish  lives  !  And  the  more  of  sanctity  any 
pretend  to,  the  m.ore  deplorable  is  the  case,  when  the 
wickedness  breaks  forth,  that  was  concealed  before,  under 
the  vizor  of  that  pretence.  Is  this  no  matter  of  lamentation 
to  you  ]  or  will  you  here,  again,  say,  your  unrelatedness 
to  their  party,  makes  you  unconcerned  1  If  it  do  not  jus- 
tify 3'our  rejoicing,  it  will  sure  (you  think)  excuse  your 
not  mourning.  Will  it  so  indeed "?  Who  made  you  of  a 
distinct  party  1  Are  you  not  a  Christian  1  or  are  you  not  a 
protestantl  And  what  do  you  account  that,  but  reformed, 
primitive  Christianity  1  And  so,  the  more  it  is  reformed, 
the  more  perfectly  it  is  itself  Who  put  it  into  your  power 
to  make  distinguishing  additions  to  the  Christian  religion, 
by  which  to  sever  yourselves  from  the  body  of  other  Chris- 
tians in  the  world,  so  as  not  to  be  concerned  in  the  affairs 
of  the  body  1  If  this  or  that  member  say,  "  I  am  not  of  the 
body,  is  it  therefore  not  of  the  body  1"  Is  it  not  the  Chris- 
tian name  that  if,  dishonoured  by  the  scandalous  lives  of 
them  that  bear  that  name  1  Whose  laws  are  they  that  are 
broken,  the  laws  of  this  or  that  party  1  or  are  they  not  the 
laws  of  Christ  1  Will  you  say  you  are  unrelated  to  him 
too  1  or  have  no  concern  with  him  1  Can  any  party  be 
united  within  itself  by  so  sacred  ties,  as  all  true  Christians 
are  with  the  whole  body  of  Christ  1  I  know  no  way  you 
have  to  be  unconcerned  in  such  cases,  as  the  matter  of 
your  humiliation,  (when  they  occur  within  your  notice) 
but  by  renouncing  your  Christianity.  Nor,  indeed,  would 
that  serve  the  turn.  For  what  will  you  do  with  your  hu- 
manity 1  Are  you  not  still  a  man,  if  you  would  be  no  lon- 
ger a  Christian  1  And  even  that,  methinks,  should  oblige 
us  to  bewail  the  depravedness  and  dishonour  of  the  nature 
and  order  of  human  creatures!  that  they  who  were  made 
for  the  society  of  angels,  yea,  and  of  the  blessed  God  him- 
self, should  be  found  delighting  and  wallowing  in  worse 
inrpurities  than  those  of  the  dog  or  swine. 

The  more  strictness  in  morals  they  have  (falsely)  pre- 
tended to,  the  greater  is  your  obligation  to  lament  their 
violating  those  sacred  rules,  which  you  also  profess  to  be 
subject  to,)  and  not  the  less.  Do  I  need  to  tell  you,  that 
even  among  pagans,  where  a  profession  of  greater  strict- 
ness had  once  been  entered  into,  an  apostacy  to  gross  im- 
moralities hath  been  the  matter  of  very  solemn  lamenta- 
tion. As  in  the  school  (or  church  should  I  call  it  1)  of  Py- 
e  Jambl.  de  vit.  Pyth. 


thagoras,  where,  when  any  that  had  obliged  themselves  to 
the  observation  of  his  virtuous  precepts,  did  afterwards 
lapse  into  a  vicious  "^  course,  a  funeral  and  solemn  mourn- 
ing was  held  for  them,  as  if  they  were  dead. 

2.  On  your  own.  For  when  our  Saviour  saith,  Wo  to 
that  man  by  whom  offence  cometh,  doth  he  not  also  say, 
Wo  to  the  world  because  of  offences  1  And  who  would 
not  fear  and  lament  his  share  in  that  wo  1  Are  you  proof 
against  all  hurt  by  another's  sinl  What  if  it  encourage 
you  to  sin  too  1  What  if  it  harden  you  in  it  1  How  many 
do  some  men's  sins  dispose  to  atheism !  and  to  think  there 
is  nothing  in  religion  !  And  if  you  felt  in  yourselves  an 
inclination  to  rejoice  in  them,  that  itself  argues  the  infec- 
tion hath  caught  upon  you ;  seized  your  spirits,  and  cor- 
rupted your  vitals :  so  that  you  have  cause  to  lament  even 
your  having  rejoiced ;  to  be  afflicted,  and  mourn,  and 
weep;  to  turn  your  laughter  to  mourning,  and  your  joy  to 
heaviness,  James  iv.  One  would  think  them  indeed  but 
half  men,  and  scarce  any  Christians,  that  can  allow  them- 
selves so  inhuman  and  unhallowed  a  pleasure,  as  rejoi- 
cing in  another's  sin  !  "'TIS  very  unworthy  of  a  man  to 
take  pleasure  in  seeing  his  fellow-man  turning  beast. 
There  is  little  in  it  of  the  ingenuity  that  belongs  to  human 
nature,  to  delight  in  the  harms  of  others  ;  much  less  of  the 
prudence,  to  make  sport  of  a  common  mischief.  And 
would  a  Christian  rejoice  in  the  disadvantages  of  his  own 
cause  1  and  in  the  dishonour  and  reproach  of  the  very 
name  which  he  himself  bears'? 

To  conclude.  One  would  think  no  more  should  be  need- 
ful to  repress  in  any  this  ill  inclination,  than  to  consider, — 
what  sin  is,  wherein  they  rejoice, — and  what  charity  is, 
which  is  violated  by  their  doing  so.  What,  to  rejoice  in 
sin  !  that  despitesthe  Creator,  and  hath  wrought  such  tra- 
gedies in  the  creation !  that  turned  angels  out  of  heaven  ! 
man  out  of  paradise  !  that  hath  made  the  blessed  God 
so  much  a  stranger  to  our  world,  broken  ofi'  the  inter- 
course, in  so  great  part,  between  heaven  and  earth ;  ob- 
structed the  pleasant  commerce,  which  had,  otherwise, 
probably  been  between  angels  and  men  !  so  vilely  debased 
the  nature  of  man,  and  provoked  the  displeasure  of  his 
Maker  against  him  !  that  once  overwhelmed  the  world  in 
a  deluge  of  water,  and  will  again  ruin  it  by  as  destructive 
fire !  To  rejoice  in  so  hateful  a  thing,  is  to  do  that  mad 
part,  to  cast  about  firebrands,  arrows,  and  death,  and  say, 
"  Am  not  I  in  sport  V  And  to  do  that  which  so  highly  of- 
fends against  charity  !  so  divine  a  thing  !  the  offspring  of 
God !  the  birth  of  heaven,  as  it  is  here  below,  among  us 
mortals  ;  the  beauty  and  glory  of  it,  as  it  is  there  above,  in 
its  natural  seat;  the  eternal  bond  of  living  union,  among 
the  blessed  spirits  that  inhabit  there,  and  which  would 
make  our  world,  did  it  universally  obtain  in  it,  another 
heaven.  Consider  from  whom,  and  from  what  region,  that 
must  proceed,  which  is  so  contrary  to  God  and  heaven. 
If  any  will  yet,  in  despite  of  Divine  love  itself,  laugh  on, 
at  so  foul  and  frightful  a  thing  as  sin  is,  'tis  too  likely  to 
prove  the  Sardonian  laughter ;  i.  e.  (as  some  explain  that 
proverb)  of  them  that  die  laughing ;  conclude  their  lives 
and  their  laughter  both  together ;  and  only  cease  to  laugh 
and  to  live  in  the  same  last  breith. 


THE  RIGHT  USE  OF  THAT 

ARGUMENT    IN    PRAYER, 

FROM  THE  NAME  OF  GOD; 

ON  BEHALF  OF  A  PEOPLE  THAT  PROFESS  IT. 


PREFACE. 

No  sort  of  men  have  ever  pretended  to  religion,  who  have  not  allowed  unto  prayer  a  very  eminent  place  in  it.    Ai 
so  much  a  deeper  and  more  potent  principle  is  religion  in  the  nature  of  man  than  reason,  (though  both  are  miserably 
perverled  and  enfeebled,)  that  the  former  doth  secretly  prompt  men  (especially  in  great  distresses)  to  pray,  and  expect 
relief  by  prayer,  when  the  way  wherein  it  is  efficacious  cannot  so  well  be  explicaied  or  appiehended  bj-  the  other. 

And  as  prayer  hath  ever  been  reckoned  a  very  principal  part  of  religion  ;  so  hath  intercession  for  others  been  wont 
to  be  accounted  a  very  fit  and  proper  part  of  prayer. 

In  the  general,  prayer  is  most  evidently  a  duty  of  natural  religion,  a  dictate  of  nature,  which  every  man's  own  mind 
suggests  to  him,  or  may  be  appealed  to  about  it:  (should  not  a  people  seek  unto  their  God  1)  Whence  that  personated, 
eloquent  patron  of  the  Christian  cause,  urging  for  the  conviction  of  his  heathen  adversar}',  the  common  practice  of 
people  in  their  extremities,  to  lift  up  (even  untaught)  their  hands  and  eyes  to  heaven,  fitly  says  of  it,*  I'ulgi  iste  natu- 
ralis  est  serine,    That  they  do  Jurcin,  as  it  tcere,  bid  sj)cak  the  lan-guage  of  Nature. 

Now  hereupon,  the  impression  of  that  primitive  law  of  nature,  (not  quite  worn  out  from  the  mind  of  man,  even  in 
this  his  very  degenerate  state,)  to  love  our  neighbours  as  ourselves,  doth  as  a  natural  instinct,  secretly  prompt  us  to 
pray  for  others,  whom  we  cannot  otherwise  help,  (especially  such  to  whom  we  have  more  peculiar  obligations,  who 
are  in  a  more  especial  sense  our  neighbours,)  as  (at  least  in  our  last  necessities)  we  do  for  ourselves. 

In  which  recourse  to  God,  whether  for  ourselves  or  others,  we  are  led  by  a  sense  of  our  own  impotency  and  depend- 
ent state  from  a  deeply  inward  apprehension  of  a  Deity,  that  is,  (as  Epicunis  himself  seems  constrained  to  acknow- 
ledge concerning  the  idea  of  God,)  even  proleptical,  or" such  as  prevents  reason.  So  that  we  do  not,  being  urged  by 
the  pinching  necessity  of  the  case,  stay  to  deliberate  and  debate  the  matter  with  ourselves  how  this  course  should 
bring  relief,  but  do  even  take  it  for  granted,  that  it  may;  by  an  apprehension  that  is  earlier  in  us,  tfian  any  former 
reasoning  about  it,  and  being  prior  to  it,  is  also  not  suppressed  by  it,  but  prevails  against  it,  if  there  be  acy  thing  in 
reason  objected,  which  we  cannot  so  clearly  answer. 

Yet  when  we  do  bring  the  matter  to  a  rational  discussion,  we  find  that  in  our  conception  of  God  we  have  the  appre- 
hension of  so  perfect  and  excellent  a  nature,  that  we  cannot  suppose  he  should  be  moved  by  any  thing  foreign  to  him- 
self, or  that  we  can  inform  him  of  any  thing  he  knew  not  before,  or  incline  him  to  anything  to  which  his  own  nature 
inclines  him  not.  And  therefore  that  though  the  wise  and  apt  course  of  his  government  over  intelligent  creatures 
requires  that  they  should  be  apprehensive  of  their  own  concernments,  (whetlier  personal  or  that  belong  to  them,  as 
they  are  in  communities)  and  pay  a  solemn  homage  to  his  sovereign  power  and  goodness,  by  supplicating  him  ahoiu 
them,  yet  that  if  he  hear  their  prayers,  it  must  not  be  for  their  sakes,  but  his  o-«-n.  Therefore  also  it  cannot,  upon 
strictest  reasoning,  but  seem  most  dutiful  to  him  and  hopeful  for  ourselves,  that  our  prayers  should  be  conceived  alter 
such  a  tenor,  as  may  be  most  agreeable  unto  that  appreliension. 

The  Holy  Scriptures  and  the  Divine  Spirit  do  both  aim  at  the  recovery  of  apostate  man,  and  the  repairins:  the  de- 
cays of  his  degenerate  nature,  and  do  therefore  (besides  what  was  necessary  to  be  added)  renew  the  dictates  of  the  law 
of  nature,  the  one  more  expressly  representing  them,  the  other  impressing  them  afresh,  and  re-implanting  ihcui,  in 
the  hearts  of  all  that  are  born  of  God.  Therefore,  that  external  revelation  of  tne  mind  and  will  of  God  doth  direct., 
and  his  ble.ssed  Spirit  (which  is  pleased  tote  in  all  his  children  the  Spirit  of  grace  and  supplication)  doth  inwardly 
prompt  them,  not  only  to  pray,  (in  reference  to  their  single  and  common  concernments,)  but  to  form  their  prayers 
after  this  tenor ;  which  is  to  lie  seen  in  their  so  frequent  use  of  this  argument  in  prayer,  from  the  name  ol  Gtid. 

Whereupon,  in  a  time  when  we  are  so  much  concerned  to  be  very  instant  in  prayer,  not  only  each  of  us  for  himself, 
but  for  the  body  of  a  people,  upon  whom  that  holv  name  is  called ;  I  reckoned  it  sea,sonable  to  show  briefly  the  import 
»nd  right  use  o'f  this  argument;  and  to  that  purpose  have  taken  for  the  ground,  the  following  text  of  Scripture. 

*  O  lav.  mmd  Mill.  f. 


PRAYER  FROM  THE  NAME  OF  GOD. 


JER.  XIV.  31. 


DO  NOT  ABHOR  US  FOR  THY  NAMe's  SAKE, 


Where  we  have— a  petition,  and — the  argument  enfor- 
cing it. 

I.  A  very  serious  petition,  or  a  deprecation  of  the  most 
fearful  evil  imaginable.  Do  not  abhor  us.  The  word" 
doth  not  merely  signify  abhorrence,  but  disdain :  a  dis- 
pleasure prevailing  to  that  degree,  and  so  fixed,  as  to  infer 
rejection,  even  from  a  just  sense  of  honour.  So  some  of 
the  bversions  read,  reject  us  not,  or  cast  lis  not  forth,  as 
we  would  do  what  (or  whom)  we  despise  and  scorn  to 
own;  as  if  it  were  feared  the  holy  God  might  count  it 
ignominious,  and  a  reproach  to  him,  to  be  further  related 
to  such  a  people,  and  might  even  be  ashamed  to  be  called 
their  God.  And  consequently  that  the  following  argument 
is  used  not  without  some  suspense  of  mind  and  doubt  lest 
it  should  be  turned  against  them,  whereof  more  hereafter. 
Here  it  is  implied, 

1.  To  be  no  impossible  tiling  that  God  should  reject  with 
abhorrence  a  people  once  his  own,  or  that  have  been  in 
peculiar,  visible  relation  to  him.  Prayer  is  conversant 
about  matters  of  divine  liberty,  i.  e.  that  are  not  known  to 
us  to  be  already  determined  this  way  or  that ;  but  that  may 
be,  or  may  not  be,  as  he  pleases  and  sees  fit ;  consistently 
with  the  settled  course  and  order  of  things,  not  about  things 
that  he  had  before  made  ordinarily  necessary,  nor  about 
things  that  are  simply  or  in  ordinary  course  impossible. 
In  the  former  case  prayer  would  be  needless,  in  the  latter 
to  no  purpose.  We  do  not  pray  that  the  sun  may  rise  to- 
morrow at  the  usual  hour,  or  that  the  sea  may  ebb  and 
flow,  nor  that  they  may  be  prevented  doing  so.  But  we 
must  distinguisli  such  necessity  and  impossibility  from  a 
mere  certainty  that  things  shall  either  be,  or  not  be.  We 
are  to  pray  in  the  present  case,  with  a  deep  apprehension 
that  this  is  perfectly  a  matter  of  liberty  with  the  great  God, 
and  that  as  he  took  such  a  people  to  be  his,"^  of  mere  good 
pleasure,  so  it  depends  wholly  upon  his  mere  pleasure,  that 
he  continues  the  relation,  when  he  might  abandon  and  cast 
them  off.     It  is  further  implied, 

2.  That  the  more  serious  and  apprehensive  among  such 
a  people,  do  understand  it  (at  sometimes  more  especially) 
a  thing  very  highly  deserved,  that  God  should  abhor  and 
reject  them.  The  deprecation  is  a  tacit  acknowledgment, 
that  the  deprecated  severity  was  reasonably  to  be  feared, 
not  only  from  sovereign  power,  but  oflfended  justice.  This 
is  indeed  expressed  in  the  next  foregoing  words.  We 
acknowledge,  O  Lord,  our  wickedness,  and  the  iniquity 
of  our  fathers:  for  we  have  sinned  against  thee,  do  not 
abhor  us,  &c.  So  that  this  ought  to  be  the  sense  of  the 
supplicants  in  the  present  case,  that  they  are  herein  per- 
fectly at  mercy,  that  if  they  be  heard,  'tis  undeserved 
compassion,  if  they  be  rejected,  'tis  from  most  deserved 
displeasure.  And  if  it  were  not  expressed,  yet  the  sup- 
plication must  be  understood  to  imply  it.  For  when  the 
great  God  hath  vouchsafed  to  limit  his  sovereign  power 
and  antecedent  liberty  by  his  promise  and  covenant,  such 

a.  "^n:  Sprevit  contempsit.  h  Viilg.  Lat.  and  Cliald.  Par. 


a  prayer  were  itself  reflecting,  and  an  aflTront,  if  it  should 
proceed  upon  a  supposition,  or  but  intimate,  that  he  should 
ever  be  inclined  to  do  such  a  thing,  without  an  excepted 
cause.  Such  as  that  his  rejecting  them  upon  it  might  con- 
sist with  his  being  faithful  to  his  word  :  when  he  values 
himself  so  much  upon  his  faithfulness,  and  seems  even  to 
lay  his  very  Godhead  upon  it :  as  those  strangely  empha- 
tical  words  import,  (Deut.  vii.  9.)  Know  therefore  that 
the  Lord  thy  God,  he  is  God,  the  faithful  God,  which  keep- 
eth  covenant  and  mercy  with  them  that  love  him,  and  keep 
his  commandments  to  a  thousand  generations  ;  implying 
that  he  would  even  yield  himself  not  to  be  God,  if  he  did 
not  in  all  points  vindicate  and  demonstrate  his  faithful- 
ness. Nor  indeed  do  we  properly  crave  for  any  thing,  but 
we  therein  disclaim  a  legal  right  to  it,  and  acknowledge 
it  to  be  rightfully  in  his  power,  to  whom  we  apply  our- 
selves, to  grant  or  deny;  we  make  demands  from  justice, 
and  are  supplicants  for  mercy.  And  with  this  sense  the 
spirits  of  holy  men  have  abounded,  when  they  have  taken 
upon  them  to  intercede  in  the  like  case,  as  we  see  Dan.  ix, 
7.  O  Lord,  righteousness  belongeth  unto  thee,  but  unto  u; 
confusion  of  faces,  as  at  this  day,  &c.  And  to  the  same 
purpose,  Ezra  ix.  Neh.  ix.  at  large,  and  in  many  other 
places:  q.  d.  "  Our  only  resort,  O  Lord,  is  to  thy  mercy: 
thou  mightest  most  justly  abhor  and  abandon  u«,  and  say 
to  us,  Loammi,  ye  are  none  of  my  people ;  but  in  the  mul- 
titude of  thy  tender  compassions  and  mercies,  do  it  not." 
It  is  again  l\irther  to  be  collected, 

3.  That  this  is  a  thing  which  holy  and  good  men  do 
most  vehemently  dread  and  deprecate,  viz.  that  God  should 
thus  abhor  and  reject  a  people  so  related  to  him.  'Tis  that 
which  the  very  genius  and  spirit  of  holiness  in  the  sincere, 
regret  beyond  all  things  for  themselves.  They  have  taken 
the  Lord  to  be  their  God,  for  ever  and  ever;  their  hearts 
have  been  attempered  to  the  tenor  and  constitution  of  an 
everlasting  covenant,  which  they  entered  with  no  design 
or  thought  of  ever  parting ;  but  that  it  should  be  the  ground 
of  an  eternal  relation.  And  the  law  of  love  written  in 
their  hearts,  prompts  them  to  desire  the  same  thing  for 
others  too ;  especially  such  to  whom  they  have  more  espe- 
cial, endearing  obligations;  and  (if  it  were  possible)  that 
the  whole  body  of  a  people  to  whom  they  are  themselves 
united,  might  all  be  united  to  God  upon  the  same  terms, 
even  by  the  same  vital  and  everlasting  union  ;  and  there- 
fore also,  that  same  divine  and  soul-enlarging  love,  being 
a  living  principle  in  them,  makes  them  have  a  most  alfiict- 
ing  sense  of  any  discerned  tendencies  to  a  rupture  and 
separation  that  might  prevent,  and  cut  off  the  hope  of  his 
drawing  still  more  and  more  of  into  them  that  inward 
living  union,  and  intercourse  with  himself  These  things 
it  may  suffice  briefly  to  have  noted  from  the  petition  in  the 
text.  That  which  1  principally  designed,  is  what  we  have 
next  coming  under  our  view,  viz. 

II.    The  argument  brought  to  enforce  it ;    "  for  thy 

c  Deut.  \ii.  7,  cliap,  x.  15. 


PRAYER  FROM  THE  NAME  OF  GOD. 


493 


name's  sake."  About  which,  what  I  shall  observe,  shall 
be  with  special  reference  to  the  case  which  the  prophet  re- 
fers unto,  in  his  present  use  of  it ;  viz.  that  in  praying 
for  a  people  professing  the  name  of  God,  that  he  would 
not  reject  and  cast  them  off,  the  fit  and  proi^er  argument 
to  be  insisted  on  is  that  from  his  own  name,  (see  ver.  1, 
9.)  And  here  it  will  be  requisite,—!.  To  have  some  very 
brief  consideration  of  this  argument  in  the  general ;  thougli 
—2.  We  principally  intend  "to  treat  of  it  as  it  respects  this 
present  case. 

1.  In  the  general,  we  are  to  consider  both  what  the 
name  of  God  in  itself  imports,  and  what  is  signified  by 
using  it  as  an  argument  in  prayer.     And, 

(I.)  As  to  what  is  imported  by  the  name  of  God,  in  itself 
considered.  We  shall  not  trouble  this  discourse  with  the 
fancies  of  the  Rabbins;  of  whom  yet  one  a  very  noted, 
soberly  and  plainly  tells  us  the  name  of  God  is  wont  to 
signify  his  essence  and  truth,  though  the  instance  he  gives, 
shows  he  means  it  of  the  Nomen  Tetragrammaton,  (the 
name  Jehovah,)  which  indeed  more  eminently  doth  so. 
To  our  purpose  it  is  obvious,  and  sufficient  to  note,  that  by 
his  name,  more  generally,  is  signified  both  the  peculiar 
excellencies  of  his  nature  and  being,  which  are  himself,  as 
the  use  of  a  man's  name  is  to  notify  the  man.  So  when 
he  is  pleased  himself  to  proclaim  his  own  name,  thus  it 
runs ;  The  Lord,  the  Lord  God,  merciful  and  gracious, 
long-sufiering,  and  abundant  in  goodness  and  truth,  keep- 
ing mercy  for  thousands,  forgiving  iniquity,  and  transgres- 
sion, and  sin,  &c.  Exod.  xxxiv.  6,  7.  And  again,  tliat 
by  his  name  is  meant  his  glory,  and  most  especially  the 
honour  and  reputation  of  his  government.  For  so,  too,  a 
man's  name  signifies  his  fame  and  repute  in  the  world 
(as  they  whom  our  translation  calls  men  of  renown,  Gen. 
vi.  4.  the  Hebrew  text  says  only,  but  plainly,  meaning  the 
same  thing,  they  were  men  of  name.)  And  if  he  be  a 
public  person,  a  prince,  and  ruler  over  others,  it  must  more 
peculiarly  signify  his  reputation  and  fame  as  such.  Thus 
Moses  designing  to  celebrate  the  unexceptionable  equity 
and  awful  majesty  of  the  Divine  government,  begins  thus  ; 
Because  I  will  publish  the  name  of  the  Lord ;  ascribe  ye 
greatness  unto  our  God.  He  is  the  rock,  his  work  is  per- 
fect; for  all  his  ways  are  judgment,  Deut.  xxxii.  3,  4. 

(2.)  As  an  argument  used  in  prayer,  it  may  accordingly 
either  signify  the  principle  from  which  it  is  hoped  and  re- 
quested he  should  do  what  we  desire,  or  the  end  for  which. 
For  as  his  name  signifies  his  nature,  which  himself  halh 
taught  us  primarily  to  conceive  under  the  notion  of  good- 
ness, mercy,  love,  in  that  forementioned  Exod.  xxxiv.  7. 
and  1  John  iv.  16.  so  when  we  pray  he  would  do  this  or 
that  for  his  name's  sake,  the  meaning  may  be,  that  we  re- 
quest he  would  do  it  for  his  mercy's  sake,  even  in  compli- 
ance with  himself,  and  as  it  were  to  gratify  his  own  nature, 
which,  as  nothing  is  more  Godlike,  is  wont  to  be  delighted 
in  acts  of  goodness  towards  all,  of  compassion  and  mercy 
to  the  miserable,  and  of  special  favour  to  them  that  more 
peculiarly  belong  to  him.  And  again,  as  his  name  signi- 
fies his  glory,  and  principally  the  honour  and  reputation 
of  his  government ;  so  when  we  pray  he  would  do  this 
for  his  name's  sake,  we  further  must  be  understood  to 
mean,  we  desire  he  would  do  it  to  prevent  his  own  dis- 
honour, to  augment  his  glory,  and  further  to  recommend 
himself  to  the  world.  And  I  conceive  it  must  be  meant 
in  both  these  senses  taken  together,  viz.  that  we  pray  he 
would  do  this,  or  that,  both  from  himself,  and  for  himself; 
from  his  goodness,  or  indeed  the  general  perfection  of  his 
nature,  and  for  his  glory,  and  that  he  may  represent  him- 
self such  as  he  truly  is.  But  some  circumstances  in  the 
coherent  verses,  afterwards  to  be  particularly  noted,  seem 
to  intimate  that  the  honour  and  dignit}'  of  his  government 
are  here  more  directly  meant.  His  glory  is  indeed  the 
end  which  he  cannot  but  design  in  all  that  he  does.  For 
inasmuch  as  he  is  said  to  do  all  things  according  to  the 
counsel  of  his  will,  Eph.  i.  his  will  must  be  principally 
of  the  end,  which  is  ev"er  the  highest  and  most  excellent 
good  ;  and  that  can  be  no  other  than  himself,  and  that  onl  r 
as  he  is  capable  of  greatening  himself  by  his  own  actior. ; 
which  cannot  be  in  respect  of  intrinsic  excellency,  tliat  be- 
ing already  perfect  and  capable  of  no  addition,  therefore  it 
must  be  in  point  of  glory  and  reputation  only.     And  so 

d  Maimon.  Mor.  Ncvoch. 


as  it's  said,  having  no  greater  to  swear  by,  be  sware  by 
himself,  Heb.  vi.  So  having  no  greaier  to  act  for,  it  is 
most  just,  and  most  worthy  of  him,  and  but  a  Godlike 
owning  of  himself,  to  act  only  to  and  for  himself.  And 
then  whereas,  having  this  constant,  just,  and  holy  will,  he 
dolh  all  things  according  to  counsel  in  pursuance  of  it,  it 
must  signify  that  he  ever  takes  the  aptest  and  most  proper 
methods  for  the  advancing  of  his  own  glory;  the  choos- 
ing the  fittest  and  most  suiiable  ineans  to  a  fore-resolved 
end,  being  the  prope.  business  and  design  of  consultation. 
Though  that  be  spoken  of  God  but  allusively,  and  after  the 
manner  of  men,  who  by  slow  degrees,  and  by  much  delibe- 
ration, arrive  to  the  very  imperfect  knowledge  of  things, 
which  at  one  view  he  perfectly  beholds  from  all  eternity. 

But  also  how  the  great  God  designs  his  own  glory  in  all 
that  he  doth,  we  must  take  great  care  be  duly  and  decently 
understood.  It  were  low  and  mean  to  think  that  the 
design  of  his  mighty  works  and  accurate  dispensations  is 
only  that  he  may  fill  men's  minds  with  wonder;  be  highly 
thought  of,  admired,  and  celebrated  in  the  world,  Avhich 
even  a  wise  and  virtuous  man  would  think  an  end  much 
beneath  him.  But  the  glory  of  his  name  must  be  under- 
stood to  be  primarily  an  objective  glory,  that  shines  with 
a  constant  and  equal  lustre  in  all  his  dispensations,  whe- 
ther men  observe,  or  observe  it  not.  And  shines  primarily 
to  himself,  so  as  that  he  hath  the  perpetual  sell-satisfaction 
of  doing  as  truly  becomes  him,  and  what  is  in  it.self  reput- 
able, worthy  of  him,  and  apt  to  approve  it.self  to  a  right 
mind,  as  his  own  ever  is,  let  men  thmk  of  his  ways  as  they 
please.  Thus  it  was  in  his  creating  the  world,  when  he 
had  not  yet  made  man,  nor  had  him  to  look  on,  as  a  wit- 
ness and  admirer  of  his  other  glorious  works;  it  was 
enough  to  him  to  be  self-pleased  that  he  saw  them  to  be 
good,  and  that  they  had  his  own  most  just  and  compla- 
cential  approbation.  Nor  is  he  le.ss  pleased  in  himself,  in 
his  governing  the  world,  than  he  wa;s  in  the  making  of  it. 
As  also  good  men,  by  how  much  the  more  they  excel  in 
goodness,  have  herein  the  greatest  resemblance  and  imita- 
tion of  God,  doing  good  for  goodness  sake,  and  plea.sing 
themselves  with  the  lustre  and  beauty  of  their  own  actions, 
shining  to  their  own  mind  and  conscience,  and  their  dis- 
cerned conformity  to  the  steady  rules  of  righteousness; 
without  being  concerned  whether  perverse  ond  incon>pe- 
tent  judges  approve  or  disapprove  them.  Though  al.so,  be- 
cause the  blessed  God  delights  in  propagating  blessedness, 
and  imparting  it  to  his  intelligent  creatures,  he  is  pleased 
in  recommending  himself,  so  far,  to  their  estimation  and 
love,  as  is  necessary  to  their  own  felicity,  wherein  also  he 
doth  as  it  were  but  enjoy  his  own  goodness,  as  his  felicity 
can  only  be  in  himself,  and  is  pleased  with  the  self-satis- 
fying beauty,  pleasantness,  and  glory  of  it. 

Yet  further  also  we  are  to  consider,  that  though  it  be 
most  suitable  to  the  majesty,  and  the  independent,  self- 
sufficient  fulness  of  God,  to  take  pleasure  only  in  the  real 
goodness,  excellency,  decency,  and  glory  of  whatever  he 
is,  and  doth;  yet  it  belongs  to,  and  becomes  the  dutiful 
affection  of  his  people  towards  him,  to  he  deeply  concern- 
ed how  he  is  thought  and  spoken  of  in  the  world.  Dis- 
honourable reflections  upon  him  are  therefore  as  a  sword 
in  their  bones.  What  cannot  hurt  him  ought  to  wound 
them.  Which  dutiful  love  also  cannot  but  make  them 
highly  covet  that  his  name  might  be  known,  and  renowned 
all  the  world  over,  knowing  that  the  reproach  that  is  no 
real  damage,  is  a  wrong  to  him;  and  that  universal  praise 
is  his  right,  though  it  cannnot  be  an  advantage.  And  this 
love  to  his  name  they  cannot  more  fitly  express,  than  in 
praying  to  him.  And  here  we  are  further  to  note  that  this 
argument,  thus  generally  considered,  hath,  when  we  use  it 
in  prayer,  a  twofold  aspect,  i.  c.  we  are  to  consider  it  as  an 
argument  both  to  God,  and  to  ourselves.  To  God,  as 
whereby  we  expect  to  prevail  with  him  to  hear  our  prayers. 
To  ourselves,  as  whereby  we  are  to  be  urged  and  excited 
to  pray  with  the  more  importunity  and  confidence,  so  as 
not  to  faint  in  prayer.  Thus  much  as  to  what  is  more 
general.     We  are  now, 

2.  To  consider  it  in  reference  to  this  present  ctise. 
Where  we  are  to  show, — (1.)  How  the  name  of  God  may 
be  understood  to  be  concerned,  in  his  abhorring,  so  as  to 
forsake  a  people  more  peculiarly  related  to  him, — (2.)  The 


494 


PRAYER  FROM  THE  NAME  OF  GOD. 


fit  and  right  use  of  this  argument  in  deprecating  his 
doing  so. 

1.  How  the  name  of  God  may  be  understood  concerned 
in  this  matter.  Taking  his  name  to  signify  not  only  his 
nature,  and  the  attributes  of  his  being  themselves,  but  also 
the  glory  and  lustre  of  those  his  attributes,  especially, 
which  are  to  have  a  more  principal  exercise  and  demon- 
stration in  the  course  of  his  government  over  mankind,  and 
more  particularly,  over  such  a  select,  peculiar  people.  It 
may  seem  greatly  to  reflect  upon  those  his  governing  attri- 
butes, and  detract  from  the  glory  of  them,  and  consequently 
to  lessen  the  honour  and  dignity  of  his  government,  if 
having  taken  such  a  people  into  near  and  peculiar  relation 
to  him,  he  should  grow  into  that  dislike  of  them,  as  at 
length  quite  to  reject  and  cast  off  them,  as  if  he  now  dis- 
dained the  relation.  That  such  a  contemptuous  rejection 
of  this  people  is  the  thing  here  deprecated  by  the  prophet, 
is  evident  (besides  what  hath  been  noted  of  the  true  import 
of  the  word  rendered  abhor)  from  other  expressions  in  the 
context,  that  plainly  speak  this  very  sense,  and  show  this 
to  be  the  matter  about  which  he  was  so  deeply  concerned. 
Hast  thou  utterly  rejected  Judah  1  hath  thy  soul  loathed 
Zion"?  ver.  19.  And  then  presently  is  added,  to  the  same 
sense,  Do  not  abhor  us,  &c.  As  when  a  man's  heart  is  full 
of  a  thing,  and  the  sense  of  it  abounds,  he  varies  expres- 
sions, and  from  the  abundance  of  the  heart,  as  from  a  foun- 
tain, the  matter  streams  from  him  several  ways.  His 
iterations,  and  varied  forms  of  speech  to  the  same  purpose, 
show  what  urged  him,  and  about  what  his  mind  was  en- 
gaged and  taken  up.  'Tis  plain  that,  at  this  time,  that 
which  this  holy  man  was  in  this  agony  for,  was  not  a  light- 
er, temporary  anger,  but  so  settled  a  displeasure,  as  upon 
which  a  final  rejection  was  likely  to  ensue. 

And  he  apprehends  the  name  of  God  to  be  concerned 
in  it ;  which  it  appears  also  lies  with  great  weight  upon 
his  spirit;  Our  iniquities  testify  against  us,  but  do  thou  it, 
i.  e.  save  us,  as  afterwards,  for  thy  name's  sake,  ver.  7. 
And  again,  ver.  9.  Thou,  O  Lord,  art  in  the  midst  of  us, 
and  we  are  called  by  thy  name ;  leave  us  not.  Which 
also  shows  how  he  understood  it  to  be  concerned,  viz.  as 
the  great  God  was  not  only  the  common  Ruler  of  the  world, 
but  a  Governor  over  them,  in  a  way  and  upon  terms 
that  were  very  peculiar,  viz.  by  covenant  and  compact. 
Such  whereof  the  nuptial  contract  is  the  usual  resemblance ; 
by  which  the  related  persons  mutually  pass  into  each 
other's  right,  and  whereupon,  the  inferior  person  in  the  re- 
lation takes  the  name  of  the  superior;  as  Isa.  iv.  1.  We 
will  eat  our  own  bread,  and  wear  our  own  apparel,  only 
let  us  be  called  by  thy  name.  So  the  great  God  entering 
that  covenant  with  a  people,  "  I  will  be  your  God,  and  you 
shall  be  my  people,"  speaksof  himself  as  conjugally  related 
to  them.  Thou  shalt  be  called  by  a  new  name,  which  the 
mouth  of  the  Lord  shall  name.  Thou  shalt  also  be  a 
crown  of  glory  in  the  hand  of  the  Lord ;  and  a  royal  diadem 
in  the  hand  of  thy  God.  Thou  shalt  no  more  be  termed, 
Forsaken;  neither  shall  thy  land  any  more  be  termed  De- 
solate ;  but  thou  shalt  be  called  Hephzibah,  and  thy  land 
Beulah :  for  the  Lord  delighteth  in  thee,  and  thy  land  shall 
be  married,  Isa.  Ixii.  4.  Thy  Maker  is  thine  husband, 
Isa.  liv.  5.  Who  being  the  governing  relative,  the  phrase 
of  being  called  by  his  name  imports  the  agreed,  voluntary 
subjection  of  such  a  people  to  his  government,  and  his 
vouchsafing  to  be  their  Governor,  upon  the  special  terms 
of  his  own  covenant.  Whereupon  another  prophet,  plead- 
ing for  his  special  favour,  and  protection  unto  this  people, 
against  their  heathen  adversaries,  uses  this  phrase,  We  are 
thine,  thou  never  barest  rule  over  them,  they  Avere  not 
called  by  thy  name,  Isa  Ixiii.  19.  Therefore  this  prophet 
understood  his  name  to  be  concerned,  if  he  should  reject 
them,  as  it  signified  his  honour  and  reputation  as  their 
Governor  by  covenant,  which  further  appears  by  the  im- 
mediate connexion  of  these  words,  "  Do  not  abhor  us,  for 
thy  name's  sake,"  with  those  that  next  foliow,  Do  not  dis- 
grace the  throne  of  thy  glory :  remember,  break  not  thy 
covenant  with  us:  q.  d.  "  Thou  hast  covenanted  to  be  our 
Governor,  and  hast  erected,  accordingly,  thy  glorious  throne 
among  us.  How  canst  thou  sustain  or  endure  to  break 
thy  covenant,  and  dishonour  thy  own  throne!  to  draw  a 
disreputation  upon  thy  government ;  or  cast  a  dark  shadow 
uPon  those  famed  excellencies  which  were  wont  to  recom- 


mend thee  in  the  sight  of  all  nations  as  the  best  Ruler  that 
ever  people  had;  and  might  make  the  sons  of  men  appre- 
hend it  the  most  desirable  thing  in  all  the  world  to  be  on 
the  same  terms,  under  thy  government !"  Particularly  of 
his  attributes  that  have  more  special  relation  to  his  govern- 
ment, such  as  these  may  seem  (and  have  been  apprehend- 
ed) liable  to  be  I'eflected  on  in  this  case. 

1.  His  power,  as  if  he  had  designed  to  do  some  great 
thing  for  them,  which  he  could  not  bring  about,  and  there- 
fore he  casts  them  ofi",  and  will  seem  no  further  concerned 
for  them.  Or  as  if  his  power  were  confined  within  such 
limits,  that  it  would  suffice  him  to  destroy  them  once  for 
all,  but  not  constantly  to  preserve  and  prosper  them.  So 
when  God  threatened  to  smite  his  people  Israel  with  the 
pestilence,  and  disinherit  them,  (Numb.  xiv.  12.)  Moses 
urges  on  their  behalf.  Then  the  Egyptians  stiall  hear  it,  for 
thou  broughtest  up  this  people  in  thy  might  from  among 
them,  and  they  will  tell  it  to  the  inhabitants  of  this  land : 
for  they  have  heard  that  thou.  Lord,  art  among  this  people, 
that  thou,  Lord,  art  seen  face  to  face,  and  that  thy  cloud 
standeth  over  them,  and  that  thou  goest  before  them,  by 
day-time  in  a  pillar  of  a  cloud,  and  in  a  pillar  of  fire  by 
night.  Now  if  thou  shall  kill  all  this  people,  as  one  man  , 
then  the  nations  which  heard  the  fame  of  thee  will  speak, 
saying,  Because  the  Lord  was  not  able  to  bring  this  peo- 
ple into  the  land  which  he  sware  unto  them,  therefore  he 
hath  slain  them  in  the  wilderness :  ver.  13,  14,  15,  16.  q.  d. 
"  That  thou  hast  peculiarly  owned  them,  and  concerned 
thyself  for  them,  cannot  be  hid.  It  hath  made  a  great  noise 
in  the  world,  and  been  the  common  talk  of  all  nations, 
and  made  a  more  special  impression  of  awe  and  terror 
upon  the  Egyptians,  (against  whom  thou  first  tookest  part 
with  them,)  that  thou  wast  usually  seen  face  to  face  among 
them ;  that  most  extraordinary  tokens  of  a  Divine  presence, 
the  miraculous  pillar  of  a  cloud  by  day,  and  of  fire  by 
night,  were  constantly  afforded  them.  There  is  no  coming 
off,  (so  far  and  so  openly  hast  thou  beeji  concerned  for 
them,)  but  this  construction  will  be  made  of  it,  that  though 
very  great  difficulties  have  been  overcome  for  them,  there 
was  a  prospect  of  yet  greater,  that  could  not  be  overcome  ; 
and  therefore,  that  whereas  less  power  was  required  to 
make  a  present  end  of  them,  thou  didst  rather  choose  to 
do  tha  t."  And  this  consideration  seems  sometimes  to  have 
weighed  much  with  God  himself,  as  we  find  he  is  brought 
in  speaking,  Deut  xxxii.  26,  27.  I  said  I  would  scatter 
them  into  corners,  I  would  make  the  remembrance  of  them 
to  cease  from  among  men ;  were  it  not  that  I  feared  the 
wrath  of  the  enemy,  lest  their  adversaries  should  behave 
themselves  strangely,  and  lest  they  should  say.  Our  hand 
is  high,  &c.     Whence  also, 

2.  His  wisdom  must,  by  consequence,  be  exposed  too; 
that  this  was  not  foreseen  and  considered,  when  he  first 
undertook  their  conduct  and  espoused  their  interest. 

3.  His  goodness  and  benignity,  his  propensity  to  do 
good  and  bestow  favours,  that  it  was  not  so  unexhausted  a 
fountain  as  might  seem  suitable  to  a  god ;  and  to  him, 
whom  his  wonderful  noted  acts  of  favour  towards  that 
people,  had  made  to  be  vogued  among  the  nations  as  the 
only  one. 

4.  His  clemency  and  unaptness  to  be  provoked ;  the 
great  commendation  of  rulers;  who  ought  to  be  legum 
similes,  as  little  moved  with  passions,  as  the  laws  they 
govern  by.  A  thing  especially  to  be  expected  in  a  Divine 
Ruler,  and  most  agreeable  to  the  serenity  of  the  nature  of 
God.  Accordingly  not  only  to  what  men  are  commonly 
wont  to  apprehend  of  his  nature,  but  what  he  had  been 
pleased  to  declare  of  himself,  as  is  alleged.  Numb.  xiv.  17, 
18.  Let  the  power  of  my  Lord  be  great ;  intimating,  that 
to  appear  hurried  with  passions  would  seem  an  un-Godlike 
impotency  :  and  'tis  added.  According  as  thou  hast  spoken, 
saying.  The  Lord  is  long-suffering  and  of  great  mercy,  &c. 
Whereupon  therefore, 

5.  His  sincerity,  another  great  excellency  in  a  governor, 
seems  liable  to  be  suspected  too.  That  he  should  not  be 
what  he  seemed,  had  given  out  of  himself,  or  was  taken, 
at  least,  to  be  the  import  and  signification  of  his  former 
dispensations.  Which  is  the  scope  of  Moses's  reasoning, 
Exod.  xxxii.  12.  Wherefore  should  the  Egyptians  speak 
and  say,  For  mischief  did  he  bring  them  out  to  slay  them 
in  the  moimtains,  and  to  consume  them  from  the  face  of 


PRAYER  FROM  THE  NAME  OF  GOD. 


495 


the  earth'?  As  if  he  had  said,  Why  shall  the  Egyptian 
enemy  have  occasion  to  apprehend  that  God  did  only  hide 
mischiev^ous  intentions  towards  this  people,  under  an  ap- 
pearance and  show  of  kindness  to  them  ;  that  he  only  drew 
them  hereby  to  trust  in  hiin,  and  commit  themselves  to  his 
care  and  protection,  that  he  might,  when  he  saw  his  time, 
the  more  please,  and  as  it  were  sport  himself  in  having 
deceived  them,  and  in  disappointing  and  destroying  them. 
That  therefore  the  God  of  Israel  was  not  such  a  one  as  he 
seemed  willing  to  be  thought,  nor  a  relation  to  him  so 
covetable  a  thing.     Or  else, 

6.  His  constancy  and  faithfulness  to  himself  He  may 
be  thought  in  this  case  more  mutable  and  unsteady  in  his 
own  designs  than  is  worthy  of  a  God.  Even  Balaam's 
notion  of  the  Deity  could  not  allow  him  to  think  either, 
first,  that  as  a  man  he  could  lie,  or  next,  that  as  the  son  of 
man  he  could  repent.  Numb,  xxiii.  The  former  he  thought 
not  agreeable  to  the  sincerity,  nor  the  latter  to  the  con- 
stancy, which  he  reckoned  must  belong  to  the  nature  of 
God.  That  he  should  appropriate  a  people  to  himself,  re- 
markably own  them  by  along-continued  series  of  eminent 
favours;  and  at  length  seem  to  grow  weary  of  them  and 
his  own  design,  and  throw  them  off!  How  un-Godlike  a 
levity  doth  this  seem  to  import!  and  how  contrary  to  the 
encouragement  which  we  sometimes  find  given  to  such  a 
people,  even  from  the  regard  he  would  have  to  his  own 
name  in  this  respect.  The  Lord  will  not  forsake  his  peo- 
ple, for  his  great  name's  sake ;  because  it  hath  pleased  the 
Lord  to  make  you  his  people,  1  Sam.  xii.  22. 

7.  His  righteousness  in  reference  to  his  promise  and 
covenant  with  such  a  people,  or  his  faithfulness  unto  them. 
For,  as  considering  only  his  purpose,  and  his  having  be- 
gun a  design,  his  pursuing  of  it  is  but  faithfulness  (or  a 
being  true)  to  himself  and  his  own  design  ;  so  when  his 
purpose  hath  expressed  itself  in  a  promise  to  a  people,  to 
make  it  good  is  to  be  faithful  and  true  to  them.  And  is 
therefore  a  part  of  righteousness,  his  promise  having 
created  a  right  in  them  to  whom  he  made  it.  By  his  pur- 
pose he  is  only  a  debtor  to  himself,  by  his  promise  he  is  a 
debtor  to  them  too.  Upon  this  account  his  name  seems 
liable  to  be  reflected  on,  if  he  should  reject  such  a  people  ; 
as  the  words  following  the  text  intimate.  Do  not  abhor  us, 
for  thy  name's  sake ;  Do  not  disgrace  the  throne  of  thy 
glory,  break  not  thy  covenant  with  us.  And  such  is  the 
import  of  Moses's  plea,  Numb.  xiv.  16.  Because  the  Lord 
was  not  able  to  bring  this  people  into  the  land  which  he 
sware  unto  them,  therefore  he  hath  slain  them  in  the  wil- 
derness. Which  pleading  of  his  he  himself  also  recites 
(Deut.  ix.  28.)  with  little  variation  ;  and  implies  in  it,  that 
if  God  should  reject  this  people,  it  would  turn  greatly  to 
the  prejudice  of  his  name  and  repute  in  the  world,  in  re- 
spect of  his  truth  and  fidelity,  which  made  so  great  a  part 
of  his  name  and  glory.  That  in  his  anger  he  neither  re- 
gaided  his  word  nor  his  oath.  No  bond  was  sacred  with 
him.  Than  which,  what  could  make  a  prince  more  in- 
glorious and  infamous  ■?  And  how  gladly  would  those 
more  implacable  enemies  out  of  whose  hands  he  had 
rescued  his  people,  catch  at  such  an  occasion  of  traducing 
and  defaming  him !  We  see  then  how  the  name  of  God 
may  appear  concerned  in  this  matter.  It  seems  indeed  in 
all  these  respects  ver)'  deeply  concerned,  and  much  ex- 
posed to  obloqu}',  if  he  reject  such  a  people.  Though  if  he 
should,  it  can  never  be,  but  upon  such  terms,  as  that  all 
that  can  be  objected,  will  appear  to  be  but  groundless  cavil 
and  calumny,  and  admit  of  easy  answer,  as  we  shall  see 
anon.  In  the  mean  time,  while  the  matter  admits  of  any 
hope,  we  are, 

2.  To  show  the  fitness  and  right  use  of  this  argument 
for  the  preventing  of  it.  We  are  indeed  manifestly  to 
distinguish  these  two  things, — The  general  fitne.ss  of  "this 
argument  to  be  used,  and — Wherein  stands  the  fit  and  due 
use  of  it.  As  any  thing  else,  though  in  itself  very  fit  to  be 
used  for  such  and  such  purposes,  (as  meat  and  drink  for 
instance,  or  learning  or  speech,)  may  )'et  notwithstanding 
be  used  very  unfitly.  Therefore  we  shall  speak  to  both 
these  severally,  and  show, — 1.  How  fit  an  argument  this 
is  to  be  insisted  on  in  prayer,  even  to  the  purpose  we  are 
now  speaking  of; — 2.  What  is  requisite  to  the  due  and 
right  use  of  it  to  this  purpose. 

1.  That  it  is  in  itself  an  argument  very  fit  to  be  insisted 


on  in  prayer  to  this  purpose,  or  to  any  other  in  reference 
whereto  'tis  fit  for  us  to  pray,  is  most  evident ;  for  it  is 
most  likely  to  prevail  with  God,  being  an  argument  taken 
from  himself;  and  most  fit  to  move  and  afiect  us,  lor  it 
hath  most  weight  in  it.  And  we  ought  in  prayer  as  much 
as  is  possible  to  conform  our  minds  to  God's;  so  as  not 
only  10  pray  for  the  things  which  we  apprehend  him  most 
likely  to  grant,  but  upon  the  same  grounds,  anil  with  the 
same  design,  which  he  must  be  supposed  to  have  in  grant- 
ing them,  and  that  tl.jre  be  but  one  end  and  aim  common 
to  him  and  us.  We  are  told  that  if  we  a.sk  any  thing 
according  to  his  will  he  heareth  us,  1  John  v.  11.  This  is 
to  ask  according  to  his  will,  in  the  highest  and  most  certain 
sense.  'For  the  first  and  most  fixed  object  of  any  will, 
whatsoever  is  the  end;  of  any  right  will,  the  best  and 
most  excellent  end  ;  which  can  be  but  one.  The  Divine 
will,  we  are  sure,  is  ever  right,  and  must,  .so  far  as  it  is 
known,  be  directive,  and  a  rule  to  ours.  Concerning  the 
end  it  is  most  certainly  known,  he  doth  all  things  (as  he 
made  all  thmgs)  for  himself  Concerning  the  means  and 
way  to  his  end,  we  are  often  ignorant  and  in  doubt;  and 
when  we  are,  we  then  are  to  will  nothing  but  upon  con- 
dition that  it  will  conduce  to  the  great  and  common  end  of 
all  things,  and  do  interruptatively  retract  and  unpray 
every  petition  in  the  very  making  it,  which  shall  be  really 
repugnant  thereto.  Nothing  can  move  God  besides.  He 
is  eternally  self-moved.  Our  attempt  will  be  both  undu- 
tiful  and  vain,  if  we  suffer  our  spirits  to  be  engaged,  and 
moved  by  any  thing  which  will  not  be  a  motive  unto  him. 
Therefore  no  argument  can  be  fit  besides  this,  for  his  own 
name,  or  that  cannot  be  reduced  to  it.  But  the  fitness  of 
this  argument  may  be  more  distinctly  shown  and  discerned 
from  the  following  consideration.*,  viz.  that  it  is  most  suit- 
able. 

1.  To  the  object  of  prayer ;  the  glorious  ever-blessed 
God.  To  whom  it  belongs  as  the  appropriate,  most 
incommunicable  prerogative  of  the  Godhead,  to  be  the 
last  as  well  as  the  first,  the  Alpha  and  the  Omega ;  the 
End,  as  he  is  the  Author,  of  all  things  :  of  whom,  and 
through  whom,  and  to  whom  all  things  are,  and  unto  whom 
must  be  all  glory  for  ev^er,  Rom.  xi.  3G.  So  that  to  pray 
to  him  that  he  would  do  this  or  that,  finally  and  ultimately 
for  any  thing  else  than  his  own  name,  is  humbly  to  sup- 
plicate him  that  he  M'onld  resign  the  Godhead,  and  quit 
his  throne,  to  this  or  that  creature. 

2.  To  the  right  subject  of  prayer,  considered  whether  ac- 
cording to  its  original  or  renewed  state;  according  to 
primitive  nature,  or  renewing  grace.  To  primitive  nature, 
which  was  no  doubt  pointed  upon  God  as  the  last  end. 
Otherwise  a  creature  had  been  made  with  aversion  to  him, 
and  in  the  highest  pitch  of  enmity  and  rebellion;  since 
there  can  be  nia  higher  controversy  than  about  the  last  end. 
And  to  renewing  grace,  the  design  whereof,  as  it  is  such, 
can  be  no  other  than  to  restore  us  to  our  original  state;  to 
bring  us  back  and  state  us  where,  and  as  we  were,  in  thai 
absolute  subordination  to  God  that  was  original  and  na- 
tural to  us.  Which  therefore  stands  in  repentance  towards 
God  as  our  end,  and  faith  in  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  as  our 
way,  wherein  alone  we  can  acceptably  return  and  render 
ourselves  back  unto  him.  We  through  the  law  are  dead 
to  the  law;  being  humbled,  broken,  macerated,  mortified 
by  it,  we  are  become  dead  to  it,  exempt  from  its  execrating 
condemning  power  anil  dominion,  that  we  might  live  to 
God,  (Gal.  ii.  19.)  that  a  new  divine  life  and  na'ure  might 
spring  up  in  us,  aiming  at  God,  tending  and  working  en- 
tirelyand  only  towards  him.  Have  been  reduced  to  a 
chaos,  to  utter  confusion,  or  even  brought  to  nothing,  that 
we  might  be  created  anew,  with  a  re-implanted  disposition 
to  serve  the  ends  and  purposes  for  which  we  were  first 
made.  And  therefore  are  to  yield  ourselves  to  God  as 
those  that  are  alive  from  the  dead,  Rom.  vi.  13.  i.  e.  (as 
ver.  11.)  alive  to  God  through  Jesus  Christ.  In  him  we 
are  created  to  good  works,  (that  are  principally  to  be  esti- 
mated from  the  end,)  which  God  had  before  ordained  that 
we  should  walk  in  them,  Eph.  ii.  10.  Thus  we  are  recon 
ciled  to  God.  The  controversv  is  taken  up,  which  wai> 
about  no  lower  thing  than  the  Deity  ;  who  should  he  God, 
he  or  we;  whether  we  should  live  and  be  for  ourselves,  or 
him.  If  anv  man  be  in  Christ,  he  is  a  new  creature,  old 
things  are  past  away,  behold,  all  things  are  become  new; 


496 


PRAYER  FROM  THE  NAME  OF  GOD. 


and  all  things  are  of  God,  who  hath  reconciled  us  to  him- 
self by  Jesus  Christ,  2  Cor.  v.  17,  18.  Hereupon  this  is, 
in  prayer,  the  only  proper  genuine  connatural  breath  of 
the  new  creature,  the  most  inward  habitual  sense  of  a  de- 
voted soul,  "  To  thee  O  Lord,  be  all  things ;  mayst  thou 
ever  be  the  all  in  all.  Let  the  creation  and  all  things  be 
nothing,  otherwise  than  in  thee  and  for  thee !" 

3.  To  the  Mediator  in  whose  name  we  pray.  Who 
never  undertook  that  part  of  mediating  between  God  and 
us,  with  a  design  to  alienate  and  give  away  from  God  the 
natural  rights  of  the  Godhead ;  but  to  assert  them  to  the 
highest,  to  repair  unto  God  and  expiate  by  his  blood  the 
encroachments  we  had  made  upon  them,  and  provide  we 
might  do  so  no  more  :  that  we  might  be  forgiven  what  was 
past,  and  be  dutiful  and  subject  for  the  future.  His  prin- 
cipal design  was  to  salve  the  injured  honour  and  dignity 
of  the  Divine  government,  and  to  reconcile  therewith  our 
impunity  and  felicity,  to  make  them  consist.  He  was 
therefore  to  redeem  us  to  God  by  his  blood,  Rev.  v.  9. 
How  immodest  and  absurd  a  confidence  were  it,  for  any 
to  make  use  of  the  Mediator's  name  in  prayer  against  his 
principal  and  most  important  design  ! 

4.  To  the  Spirit  of  prayer,  who,  we  are  told,  (Rom.  viii. 
27.)  makes  intercession  for  the  saints  Kara  Qcdv.  We  read, 
according  to  the  will  of  God,  but  no  more  is  in  the  text  than 
according  to  God,  i.  c.  in  subserviency  to  him,  and  his  in- 
terest ;  so  as  that  in  prayer,  by  the  dictate  of  that  Spirit, 
they  supremely  mind  the  things  of  God,  and  are  most  in- 
tent upon  his  concernments,  and  upon  their  own  only  in 
subordination  to  his.  As  it  may  well  be  supposed  his  own 
Spirit  will  be  true  to  him,  and  not  act  the  hearts  which  it 
governs,  otherwise;  and  that  the  prayers  that  are  from 
himself,  and  of  his  own  inspiring,  will  be  most  entirely 
loyal,  and  import  nothing  but  duty  and  devotedness  to 
him. 

5.  To  the  most  perfect  model  and  platform  of  prayer 
given  us  by  our  Lord  himself.  In  which  the  first  place  is 
given  to  the  petition.  Hallowed  be  thy  name,  and  the  two 
next  are  about  God's  concernments,  before  any  are  men- 
tioned of  our  owni.  So  that  the  things  we  are  to  desire, 
are  digested  into  two  tables,  as  the  decalogue  is,  containing 
the  things  we  are  to  do ;  and  those  that  respect  God  (as 
was  fit)  set  first. 

6.  To  the  constant  tenor  of  the  prayers  of  holy  men  in 
Scripture.  We  have  seen  how  earnestly  Moses  presses 
this  argument  in  the  mentioned  places,  Exod.  xxxii.  and 
Numb.  xiv.  And  so  doth  Samuel  express  his  confidence  in 
it,  when  he  promises,  upon  their  desire,  tc  pray  for  the 
trembling  people  of  Israel,  1  Sam.  xii.  22,  23.  The  Lord 
will  not  forsake  his  people  for  his  great  nainc^s  sake,  be- 
cause it  hath  pleased  the  Lord  to  make  you  his  people. 
Moreover  as  for  me,  God  forbid  that  I  should  sin  against 
the  Lord,  in  ceasing  to  pray  for  you.  And  this  was  a  pair 
whom  God  hath  himself  dignified  as  persons  of  great  ex- 
cellency in  prayer,  and  whose  prayers  he  would  have  a 
value  for,  if  for  any  man's.  Though  Moses  and  Samuel 
stood  before  me,  &c.  Jer.  xv.  I.  Thus  also  doth  Joshua 
insist,  upon  occasion  of  that  rebuke  Israel  met  with  before 
Ai,  Josh.  vii.  8,  9.  O  Lord,  what  shall  I  say,  when  Israel 
turneth  their  backs  before  their  enemies  ?  For  the  Canaan- 
ites,  and  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  land,  shall  hear  of  it, 
and  shall  environ  us  round,  and  cut  off"  our  name  from  the 
earth ;  and  what  wilt  thou  do  unto  thy  great  name  7  And 
so  doth  Daniel  plead,  (one  of  a  famous  triad,  too,  of  potent 
wrestlers  in  prayer,  Ezek.  xiv.  14.)  O  Lord,  hear;  O  Lord, 
forgive  ;  O  Lord,  hearken  and  do  ;  defer  not,  for  thine  own 
sake,  O  my  God :  for  thy  city  and  thy  people  are  called  by 
thy  name,  Dan.  ix.  19. 

7.  To  the  highest  example  and  pattern  of  prayer,  (fit  to 
be  mentioned  apart,)  our  Lord  himself;  who,  in  some  of 
his  last  agonies,  praying.  Father,  save  me  from  this  hour, 
represses  that  innocent  voice:  But  therefore  came  I  to 
this  hour ;  and  adds,  Father,  glorify  thy  name,  (John  xii. 
27,  28.)  intimating  that  the  sum  of  his  desires  did  resolve 
into  that  one  thing,  and  contented  to  suflfer  what  was  most 
grievous  to  himself,  that  so  that  might  be  done  which 
should  be  finally  most  honourable  to  that  great  name. 

8.  To  the  design  and  end  of  prayer ;  which  is  partl)^  and 
principally  to  be  considered  as  an  act  of  worship,  a  homage 
to  the  great  God,  and  so  the  design  of  it  is  to  honour  him  ; 


and  partly  as  a  means,  or  way  of  obtaining  for  ourselves 
the  good  things  we  pray  for,  which  therefore  is  another, 
but  an  inferior,  end  of  prayer.  Whether  we  consider  it 
under  the  one  notion  or  the  other,  or  propound  to  ourselves 
the  one  or  the  other  end  in  praying  :  'tis  most  agreeable  to 
pray  after  this  tenor,  and  to  insist  most  upon  this  argu- 
ment in  prayer.     For, 

First,  Do  we  intend  prayer  as  a  homage  to  the  great 
God,  and  to  give  him  his  due  glory  in  praying  to  himl 
How  fitly  doth  it  fall  in  with  our  design,  when  not  only  our 
praying  itself,  but  the  matter  we  chiefly  pray  for,  have  the 
same  scope  and  end.  We  pray  that  we  may  glorify  God. 
And  the  thing  we  more  principally  desire  of  him  in  prayer 
is,  that  he  would  glorify  himself,  or  that  his  name  be  glo- 
rified. And  square  all  other  desires  by  this  measure,  de- 
siring nothing  else  but  what  may  be,  or  as  it  is,  subservient 
hereto.     And, 

Secondly,  If  we  intend  and  design  any  thing  of  advan- 
tage to  ourselves;  we  can  only  expect  to  be  heard,  and  to 
obtain  it,  upon  this  ground.  The  great  God  deals  plainly 
with  us  in  this,  and  hath  expressly  declared  that  if  he  hear, 
and  graciously  answer  us,  it  will  only  be  upon  this  con- 
sideration, as  is  often  inculcated,  Ezek.  xxxvi.  22.  There- 
fore say  unto  the  house  of  Israel,  Thus  saith  the  Lord  God, 
I  do  not  this  for  your  sakes,  O  house  of  Israel,  but  for  my 
holy  name's  sake.  And  I  wil'  sanctify  my  great  name, 
which  was  profaned  among  the  heathen.  And  again.  Not 
for  your  sakes  do  I  this,  saiih  the  Lord  God,  be  it  known 
unto  you  ;  be  ashamed  and  confounded  for  your  own  ways, 
O  house  of  Israel,  ver.  32.  This  every  way  then  appears 
a  most  fit  argument  to  be  insisted  on  in  prayer;  and  to  this 
purpose  as  well  as  to  any  other ;  many  of  the  instances 
mentioned  from  Scripture  having  an  express  and  particu- 
lar reference  to  this  very  case,  of  praying  for  a  people  re- 
lated to  God,  and  upon  whom  his  name  was  called.  It 
remains  then  to  show, 

2.  What  is  requisite  to  the  right  and  due  use  of  this 
argument  unto  this  purpose.  Where  we  may  sum  up  all 
in  two  words,  sincerity  and  submission.  The  former 
whereof  belongs  to  this  case  in  common  with  all  others, 
wherein  we  can  use  this  argument,  or,  which  is  all  one, 
wherein  we  can  pray  at  all.  The  other  hath  somewhat  a 
more  peculiar  reference  to  this  case  considered  apart  by 
itself  And  indeed  that  the  one  and  the  other  of  these  are 
requisite  in  the  use  of  this  argument,  are  both  of  them 
corollaries  from  the  truth  itself  we  have  been  hitherto  in- 
sisting on,  and  that  have  the  very  substance  and  spirit  of 
it  in  them.  For  if  this  be  an  argument  fit  to  be  used  in 
prayer  at  all,  it  is  obvious  to  collect,  that  it  ought  to  be 
used  with  great  sincerity  in  any  ca.se,  and  with  much  sub- 
mission, especially  in  such  a  case  as  this. 

1.  It  is  requisite  we  use  this  argument  with  sincerity, 
?.  e.  that  we  have  a  sense  in  our  hearts  correspondent  to 
the  use  of  it,  or  that  the  impression  be  deeply  inwrought 
into  our  spirits  of  the  glorious  excellenc)'^  of  the  name  of 
God.  So  as  it  be  really  the  most  desirable  thing  in  our 
eyes,  that  it  be  magnified  and  rendered  most  glorious, 
whatsoever  becomes  of  us,  or  of  any  people  or  nation  un- 
der heaven.  Many  have  learned  to' use  the  words  "for 
thy  name's  sake,"  as  a  formula,  a  plausible  jthrase,  a  cus- 
tomary, fashionable  form  of  speech  ;  when,  first,  there  is  no 
inward  sense  in  their  hearts  that  doth  subesse,  lies  under 
the  expression,  so  as  that  with  them  it  can  be  said  to  signi- 
fy any  thing,  or  have  any  meaning  at  all ;  or,  secondly, 
they  may  have  much  another  meaning  from  what  these 
words  do  import,  a  very  low,  self-regarding  one.  As  when 
in  praying  for  a  people  that  bear  this  name,  of  whom  them- 
selves are  a  part,  these  words  are  in  their  mouths,  but  their 
hearts  are  really  solicitous  for  nothing  but  their  own  little 
concernments,  their  wealth,  and  peace,  and  ease,  and  flesh- 
ly accommodations.  Apprehending  a  change  of  religion 
cannot  fall  out  among  such  a  people,  but  in  conjunction 
with  what  may  be  dangerous  to  themselves  in  these  mean 
respects.  Whereupon  it  may  fall  out  that  they  will  pray 
earnestly,  cry  aloud,  be  full  of  concern,  vehemently  impor- 
tunate, and  all  the  noise  and  cry  mean  nothing  but  their 
own  corn,  wine,  and  oil.  They  mention  the  name  of  the 
Lord,  but  not  in  truth.  It  appears  the  servants  of  God,  in 
the  use  of  this  argument,  have  been  touched  in  their  very 
souls  with  so  deep  and  quick  a  sense  of  the  dignity  and 


PRAYER  FROM  THE  NAME  OF  GOD. 


497 


honour  of  ihe  Divine  name,  that  nothing  else  hath  seemed 
considerable  with  them,  or  worth  the  regarding,  besides ; 
as  in  those  expostulations,  "  What  will  thou  do  to  thy 
great  name  1  What  will  the  Egyptians  say  V  &c.  This 
alone,  apart  from  their  own  concernments,  was  the  weighty 
argument  with  them.  For  it  weighed  nothing  with  Moses 
on  the  contrary,  to  be  told,  "  I  will  make  of  thee  a  great 
nation."  To  have  himself  never  so  glorious  a  name,  to  be 
spread  in  the  world  and  transmitted  to  all-after  ages  as  the 
root  and  father  of  a  mighty  people,  was  a  light  thing  in 
comparison  of  the  injury  and  disreputation  that  would 
be  done  to  God's  own  name,  if  he  should  desert  or  destroy 
this  people.  Or,  thirdly,  they  may  have  a  very  wicked 
meaning.  The  name  of  God  may  be  invoked,  religious 
solemnities  used  as  a  pretence  and  colour  to  flagitious 
actions.  In  nomine  Domini — 4^c.  Most  execrable  villa- 
nies  have  been  prefaced  with  that  sacred,  adorable  name. 
As  when  a  fast  was  proclaimed,  but  a  rapine  upon  Naboth's 
vineyard  was  a  thing  designed.  And  the  awful  name  of 
God  was  indifferently  used  in  prayer  and  in  perjury  to 
serve  the  same  vile  purpose.  In  whichsoever  of  those 
degrees  this  venerable  name  is  insincerely  mentioned,  we 
ought  to  account  a  great  requisite  is  wanting  to  a  right  use 
of  it  as  an  argument  in  prayer.  And  should  consider  both 
the  absurdity  and  the  iniquity  of  our  so  misusing  it. 

1.  The  absurdity.  For  who  can  reasonably  think  him 
capable  of  hearing  our  prayers,  whom  at  the  same  time  he 
thinks  incapable  of  knowing  our  hearts  1  Am  I  consistent 
with  myself  when  I  invocate,  worship,  trust  in  him  as  a 
God,  whom  I  think  I  can  impose  upon  by  a  false  show  % 
Is  it  likely,  if  I  can  deceive  him,  that  he  can  help  and 
succour  me  1 

2.  The  iniquity.  For  this  can  be  no  low  (though  it  be 
not  the  peculiar)  sense  of  taking  the  name  of  the  Lord  our 
God  in  vain.  And  M'e  know  with  what  awful  words  that 
great  precept  is  enforced.  The  Lord  will  not  hold  him 
guiltless  that  taketh  his  name  in  vain.  Nor  can  any  man 
devise  to  put  a  greater  affront  upon  him  than  to  approach 
him  with  insincerity.  For  it  is  to  use  him  as  a  senseless 
idol,  and  signifies  as  if  I  counted  him  as  the  vanities  of 
the  Gentiles,  one  of  their  inanimate  or  brutal  gods ;  de- 
nies his  omniscience  to  discern,  and  his  justice  and  power 
to  revenge,  the  indignity,  all  at  once.  And  what  now  is 
to  be  expected  from  such  a  prayer,  wherein  I  both  fight 
Avith  myself  and  him  at  the  same  time.  With  myself, 
for  the  same  object  that  I  worship,  I  affront  in  the  same 
act ;  and  with  him,  for  my  worship  is  but  seeming,  and 
the  affront  real. 

Such  a  disagreement  with  myself  were  enough  to  blast 
my  prayer.  The  din^o  ii\ljvx^o?,  the  man  with  two  souls. 
Jam.  i.  the  double-minded  man,  is  said  to  be  rid-araaruro?, 
unslnble  ;  {inconsistejit  icith  himself,  the  word  signifies  ;) 
and  let  not  such  a  man  think,  saith  the  apostle,  that  he 
shall  receive  any  thing  of  the  Lord.  Much  more  when 
his  prayer  is  not  only  unacceptable  to  God,  but  offensive. 
And  by  which  he  is  so  far  from  pleasing  that  he  provokes. 

It  is  then  of  unspeakable  concernment  to  us  in  the  use 
of  this  argument,  that  we  will  understand  ourselves.  Let 
us  search  our  hearts ;  and  see  that  we  mean  as  we  speak, 
that  we  do  not  pretend  a  concernedness  and  zeal  for  the 
name  of  God,  when  he  knows  all  things,  knows  that  we 
lie;  and  that  we  do  but  flatter  him  with  our  mouth,  and 
lie  unto  him  with  our  tongues,  when  our  heart  is  not  right 
with  him,  Ps.  Ixxviii.  36,  37.  That  we  do  not  seem  to 
be  in  great  perplexity  about  the  name  and  glory  of  God, 
when  we  are  quite  unconcerned  what  becomes  of  his 
name  ;  are  only  solicitous  lest  we  should  suffer  ourselves, 
afraid  of  being  undone,  of  losing  our  estates,  or  of  be- 
ing driven  from  our  dwellings,  or  perhaps  but  of  being 
abridged  somewhat  of  our  conveniences,  and  more  delect- 
able enjoyments.  As  if  (not  the  fortunes  of  Cassar  and 
the  empire,  but)  the  mighty  and  all  comprehensive  name 
of  the  great  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth  did  depend  upon 
our  being  rich  or  quiet,  and  at  our  ease,  and  having  our 
sense  and  fancy  gratified.  As  if  the  heavens  rested  upon 
our  shoulders,  and  the  frame  of  the  universe  were  sustained 
by  us,  who  ourselves  need  such  pitiful  supports,  lean  upon 
shadows,  and  if  they  fail  us  are  ready  to  sink  and  drop 
into  nothing ! 

e  Selileii.  dc  Diis  Pyriis  ."^^ynt.  2.  C»».  l#. 


2.  Submission  is  highly  requisite,  especially  in  a  case  of 
this  nature  ;  i.  e.  we  are  to  submit  to  his  judgment  the  dis- 
posal both  of  his  concernments,  which  this  argument 
directly  intends  ;  and  our  own,  which  we  are  too  apt  indi- 
rectly to  connect  with  his,  so  as  to  be  more  principally  so- 
licitous about  them. 

1.  His  concernment  in  this  case  must  (as  is  fit)  he  sub- 
mitted with  all  humble  deference  to  his  own  judgment,  it 
being  really  a  doubtful  case,  not  whether  it  be  a  desirable 
thing,  that  the  name  and  honour  of  God  should  be  pre- 
served and  advanced,  or  whether  we  should  desire  it ;  but 
whether  his  continuing  such  a  people  in  visible  relation 
to  himself,  or  rejecting  and  casting  them  off,  will  be  more 
honourable  and  glorious  to  him.  Where  the  doubt  lies, 
there  must  be  the  submission,  i.  e.  this  matter  must  be 
referred  to  himself,  it  being  such  as  whereof  he  only  is 
the  competent  judge,  and  not  we.  The  thin?  to  be  judged 
of,  is  not  whether  occasion  may  not  be  taken  by  men  ol 
short  discourse,  and  of  profane  minds,  to  thmk  and  speak 
reflectingly  of  such  a  piece  of  Providence,  viz.  if  a  people 
whom  God  had  long  visibly  owned  and  favoured  should 
be,  at  length,  rejected  with  detestation,  and  exposed  to 
ruin.  'Tis  like,  the  heathen  nations  were  very  apt  so  to 
insult,  when  God  did  finally  abandon  and  give  up  that 
people  of  the  Jews,  and  make  them  cease  at  once  to  be  his 
people  and  any  people  at  all.  As  we  know  they  did  be- 
fore, when  they  gained  any  temporar)'  advantage  upon 
them,  upon  their  being  able  to  spoil  their  country,  to  re- 
duce them  to  some  distress,  and  straiten  their  chief  city 
with  a  siege,  as  if  they  had  them  totally  in  their  power, 
they  presently  draw  the  God  of  Israel  into  an  ignominious 
comparison  with  the  fictitious  deities  of  other  vanquished 
countries  ;  the  gods  of  Hamath,  Arphad,  Sepharvaim,  Isa. 
xxxvi.  19.  (who  are  also  styled  their  kings  as  is  thought,' 
2  Kings  xix.  13.  though  the  destruction  of  their  kings  may 
also  admit  to  be  meant  as  an  argument  of  the  impoiency 
of  their  gods.  And  they  are  mentioned  distinctly,  as  per- 
haps was  not  observed,  in  both  those  cited  books  of  Scrip- 
ture where  that  history  is  more  largely  recorded  ;  2  Kings 
xviii.  34.  ch.  xix.  13.  and  Isa.  xxxvi.  19.  ch.  xxxvii.  12, 
13.)  as  if  he  were  able  to  do  no  more  for  the  protection  of 
his  people,  than  the}'  for  their  worshippers.  And  so  for  a 
few  moments,  he  remains  under  the  censure  of  being  an 
impotent  God.  But  that  momentar}'  cloud  he  knew  how 
soon  to  dispel,  and  make  his  glory  shine  out  so  much  the 
more  brightly  unto,  not  only  a  convincing,  but  an  amazing 
confutation  of  so  profane  folly  ;  yielded  the  short-sighted 
adversary  a  temporary  victory,  which  he  could  presently 
redeem  out  of  their  hands,  that  he  might  tlie  more  glori- 
ously triumph  in  their  surprising,  unfeared  ruin  ;  and  so 
let  them  and  all  the  world  see  that  those  advantages  were 
not  extorted,  but  permitted  upon  considerations  that  lay 
out  of  their  reach  to  comprehend;  and  that  they  proceed 
not  from  want  of  power,  but  the  excellency  of  other  per- 
fections, which  would  in  due  time  be  understood  by  such 
as  were  capable  of  making  a  right  judgment.  His  wis- 
dom, holiness,  and  justice,  which  appeared  in  putting  a 
people  so  related  to  him  under  seasonable  rebukes  and 
discountenance,  when  the  state  of  the  case,  and  the  me- 
thods of  his  government  required  it ;  and  so  much  the 
rather,  because  they  were  so  related.  According  to  that, 
You  only  have  I  known  of  all  the  families  of  the  earth, 
therefore  I  will  punish  you  for  all  your  iniquities,  Amos 
iii.  2.  The  matter  here  to  be  disputed,  was  not  whether  it 
did  not  occasion  a  present  dishonour  to  the  God  of  Israel, 
to  let  the  enem)'  have  such  a  seeming  ground  of  spiteful 
suggestions  concerning  him,  as  if  he  were  impotent,  or 
variable,  or  false  to  them  that  had  intrusted  themselves  to 
his  protection  and  care  ;  but  whether  that  dishonour  weie 
not  recompensed  with  advantage,  by  the  greater  glory  that 
accrued  to  him  afterwards.  And  this  also  is  the  matter 
that  must  come  under  judgment,  if  at  length  he  should 
finally  cast  off  such  a  peciple  ,  whether  upon  the  whole,  all 
things  being  considered  and  taken  together,  it  be  not  more 
for  the  honour  of  his  name,  and  the  reputation  of  his  rec- 
toral  attributes,  to  break  off  such  a  relation  to  them  than 
continue.  Wherein  he  is  not  concerned  to  approve  him- 
self to  the  opinion  of  fools,  or  half-witted  persons  :  ai;d 
whose  shallow  judgment,  too,  is  governed  by  their  disaf- 


493 


PRAYER  FROM  THE  NAME  OP  GOD. 


feclion  ;  but  to  such  as  can  consider.  Perhaps,  to  such  as 
shall  liereal'ler  rise  up  in  succeeding  ages.  For  he  is  not 
in  haste.  His  steady  duration,  commensurate  with  all  the 
successions  of  time,  ana  which  runs  into  eternity,  can  well 
admit  of  his  staying  till  this  or  that  frame  and  contexture 
of  providence  be  completed,  and  capable  of  being  more 
entirely  viewed  at  once  ;  and  till  calmer  minds,  and  men 
of  less  interested  passions,  shall  come  to  have  the  consider- 
ing of  it.  And  in  the  mean  time  he  hath  those  numberless 
myriads  of  wise  and  holy  sages  in  the  other  world,  the  con- 
tinual observers  of  all  his  dispensations,  that  behold  them 
witli  equal,  unbiassed  minds ;  and  from  the  evidence  of  the 
matter,  give  their  concurrent  approbation  and  applause, 
with  all  the  true  members  of  the  church  on  earth,  Great 
and  marvellous  are  thy  works,  Lord  God  Almighty,  just 
and  true  are  thy  ways,  thou  King  of  saints,  Rev.  xv.  3. 
But  it  is  enough  and  much  more  considerable  to  approve 
himself  to  himself;  and  that  all  his  dispensations  are  guided 
according  to  the  steady,  eternal  reason  of  things,  which  is 
an  inviolable  law  to  him,  from  which  he  never  departs, 
and  from  the  perpetual  uniform  agreement  of  all  his  pro- 
vidences, whereto  an  indubious  glory  will  result  unto  him, 
that  will  never  admit  the  least  eclipse,  or  ever  be  capable 
of  being  drawn  into  dispute.  And  according  whereto  it 
will  appear,  if  ever  he  forsake  such  a  people,  the  concern- 
ment of  his  name  and  glory  in  the  matter,  was  the  great  in- 
ducement to  it ;  that  he  did  even  owe  it  to  himself,  and  had 
not,  otherwise,  done  right  to  his  own  name.  And  whatso- 
ever might  be  argued  from  it  to  the  contrary  will  be  found 
capable  of  a  clear  and  easy  answer,  so  as  that  the  weight 
of  the  argument  will  entirely  lie  on  this  side.     For, 

1.  As  to  his  poiver,  he  hath  reason  to  be  ever  secure 
concerning  the  reputation  of  that,  having  given,  and  know- 
ing how  further  to  give,  when  he  pleases,  sufficient  demon- 
strations of  it  other  ways.  Pvor  was  it  ever  his  design  to 
represent  himself  as  a  Being  of  mere  power,  which  of  itself 
hath  nothing  of  moral  excellency  in  it ;  nor  do  the  appear- 
ances of  it  tend  to  beget  that  true  notion  of  God  in  the 
minds  of  men  which  he  designed  to  propagate  ;  otherwise 
than  as  the  glory  of  it  should  shine  in  conjunction  with 
that  of  his  other  attributes,  that  are  more  peculiarly  worthy 
of  God,  more  appropriate  to  hinr,  and  more  apt  to  repre- 
sent him  to  the  world  as  the  most  suitable  object  of  a  re- 
ligious veneration.  Whereas  mere  power  is  capable  of 
having  place  in  an  unintelligent  nature,  and  in  an  intelli- 
gent tainted  with  the  most  odious  impurities.  He  never 
desired  to  be  known  among  men  by  such  a  name,  as 
should  signify  power  only,  unaccompanied  with  wisdom, 
holiness,  &,c.     And, 

2.  F^or  his  wisdom  ;  it  is  seen  in  pursuing  valuable  ends, 
by  methods  suitable  to  them,  and  becoming  himself  It 
became  the  absolute  sovereignty  of  a  God,  to  select  a  na- 
tion, that  he  would  favour  more  than  other  nations,  but 
would  ill  have  agreed  with  his  wisdom  to  have  bound  him- 
self absolutely  to  them,  so  as  to  favour  them,  howsoever 
they  should  demean  themselves.  _ 

3.  His  bounty  and  goodness,  though  it  found  them  no 
better  than  other  people,  was  to  have  made  them  better. 
Nor  was  it  any  disreputation  to  his  goodness  to  divert 
its  current,  when  they,  after  long  trial,  do  finally  resist  its 
design. 

4.  His  clemency  must  not  be  made  liable  to  be  mistaken 
for  inadvertency,  or  neglect ;  and  to  give  the  world  cause 
to  say,  Tush,  God  seeth  not,  neither  is  there  knowledge  in 
the  Most  High.  Nor  for  indifferency,  and  unconcerned- 
ness  what  men  do,  as  if  good  and  bad  were  alike  to  him. 
And  that  such  as  do  evil  were  good  in  the  sight  of  the 
Lord,  and  he  delighted  in  them;  words  wherewith  he 
sometimes  complained  that  men  wearied  him,  Mai.  ii.  17. 
He  is  not  to  redeem  the  reputation  of  one  attribute  by  the 
real  prejudice  of  another;  i.  e.  the  offence  and  grievance 
to  it,  which  acting  directly  against  it  (if  that  were  possi- 
ble) would  occasion. 

5.  His  sincerity  will  be  highly  vindicated  and  glorified, 
when  it  shall  be  seen  that  there  is  nothing  more  of  seve- 
rity in  such  a  dispensation,  whenever  it  takes  place,  than 
was  plainly  expressed  in  nis  often  repeated  fore-warnings 
and  threatenings,  even  long  before.     And  therefore, 

6.  He  is  herein  but  constant  to  himself,  and  should  be 
more  liao.e  to  the  charge  of  mutability,  and  inconstancy, 


if  finally,  when  the  case  should  so  require,  he  inould  not 
take  this  course.     And 

7.  As  to  his  righteovsness  and  fidelity  towards  such  a 
people,  even  those  to  whom  he  more  strictly  obliged  him- 
self than  ever  he  did  to  any  particular  nation  besides.  Let 
hut  the  tenor  of  his  covenant  with  them  be  consuhed, 
and  see  whether  he  did  not  reserve  to  himself  a  liberty  of 
casting  them  off,  if  they  revolted  from  him  ;  and  whether 
these  were  not  his  express  terms,  that  he  would  be  with 
them  while  they  were  with  him,  but  that  if  they  forsook 
him,  he  would  forsake  them  also. 

Therefore  much  more  is  he  at  liberty,  as  to  any  other 
people,  to  whom  he  never  made  so  peculiar  promises  of 
external  favours  as  he  did  to  this  people.  Nor  hereupon 
can  any  thing  be  pleaded  from  his  name,  or  that  is  within 
the  compass  of  its  signification,  with  any  certaintj',  that  it 
shall  conclude,  and  be  determining  on  the  behalf  of  such 
a  people.  There  is  a  real,  great  doubt  in  the  case,  whether 
the  argument  may  not  weigh  more  the  other  way.  And 
whether  the  wickedness  of  such  a  people  may  not  be 
grown  to  such  a  prodigious  excess,  that  whereas  none  of 
these  his  mentioned  attributes  do  make  it  necessary  he 
should  continue  his  relation,  some  other,  that  could  not  be 
alleged  for  it,  may  not  be  alleged  against  it,  and  do  not 
make  it  necessary  he  should  break  it  off.  The  glory  of 
his  holiness  (which  if  we  consider  it  in  itself,  and  con- 
sider the  value  and  stress  he  is  wont  to  put  upon  it,  we 
might  even  reckon  the  prime  glory  of  the  Deity)  is  not, 
perhaps,  to  be  -sufficiently  salved  and  vindicated  Avithout, 
at  length,  quite  abandoning  and  casting  them  off.  There 
seems  to  be  somewhat  very  awful  and  monitory  in  those 
most  pleasant,  gracious  Avords,  and  that  breathe  so  sweet  a 
savour :  But  now  they  desire  a  better  countr}',  that  is,  a 
heavenly;  wherefore  God  is  not  ashamed  to  be  called  their 
God,  Heb.  xi.  16.  viz.  that  if  a  people  that  have  long  en- 
joyed brighter  discoveries  of  heaven,  and  the  way  to  it,  do 
yet  generally  bear  a  disaffected  heart  to  the  design  of  that 
revelation,  remain  habitually  terrene  like  the  rest  of  the 
world,  governed  by  the  spirit  of  it,  ingulfed  in  the  com- 
mon pollutions,  sensualities,  impieties  of  the  wicked  athe- 
istical inhabitants  of  this  earth,  God  will  be  even  ashamed 
to  be  called  their  God.  He  will  reckon  it  ignominious, 
and  a  reproach  to  him,  (though  he  will  save  such  as  are 
sincere  among  them,)  to  stand  visibly  related  to  such  a 
people  as  their  God.  "What,  to  have  them  for  a  pecu- 
liar people,  that  are  not  peculiar  1  to  distinguish  them 
that  will  not  be  distinguished!  to  make  a  visible  differ- 
ence by  external  favours  and  privileges,  where  there  is  no 
visible  difference  in  practice  and  conversation,  that  might 
signify  a  more  excellent  spirit  1  This  is  not  only  to  lose 
the  intended  design, but  to  have  it  turn  to  a  disadvantage; 
and  whom  he  expected  to  be  for  a  name  and  a  praise  to 
him,  a  crown  and  a  royal  diadem,  to  become  to  him  a  dis- 
honour and  a  blot.  And  we  do  find  that  such  severities 
as  have  been  used  towards  such  a  people,  are  declared  to 
have  been  so,  even  for  the  sake  of  his  name,  Jer.  xxxiv. 
16,  17.  But  ye  turned  and  polluted  my  name, — There- 
fore— I  will  make  you  to  be  removed  into  all  the  king- 
doms of  the  earth.  And  when  therefore  a  remnant  of  this 
people,  rcbelliously,  against  God's  express  word,  went 
down  into  Egypt,  preferring  a  precarious  subsistence,  un- 
der tyranny  and  idolatry,  at  the  cruel  mercy  of  a  long 
since  baffled  enemy,  before  the  true  religion,  and  liberty, 
under  the  divine  protection,  see  how  God  expresses  his 
resentment  of  this  dishonour  done  to  his  name,  and  the 
affront  offered  to  his  government:  Jer.  xliv.  26.  Therefore 
hear  ye  the  word  of  the  Lord,  all  Judah  that  dwell  in  the 
land  of  Egypt,  Behold,  I  have  sworn  by  my  great  name, 
saith  the  Lord,  that  my  name  shall  no  more  be  named  in 
the  mouth  of  any  man  of  Judah,  in  all  the  land  of  Egypt, 
saying,  The  Lord  God  liveth. 

And  when  the  time  drew  near  of  God's  total  rejection 
of  that  people,  as  in  the  time  of  Malachi's  prophecies; 
they  are  charged  with  despising  and  profaning  his  name, 
(chap.  i.  6,  12.)  and  are  told  God  had  now  no  pleasure  in 
them,  nor  would  accept  an  offering  at  their  hands,  but  that 
his  name  should  be  great  ainongthe  Gentiles,  (ver.  10,  11.) 
even  from  the  rising  of  the  sun  to  the  going  down  of  the 
same,  intimating  that,  excepting  those  few  that  thoua:ht  on 
his  name,  (chap.  iii.  16.)  and  that  feared  his  name,  (ch.  it 


PRAYER  FROM  THE  NAME  OF  GOD. 


499 


2.)  who  he  says  should  be  his,  when  he  made  up  his  jewels, 
(and  the  Sun  of  righteousness  should  rise  upon  them)  he 
would  have  no  more  to  do  with  them  ;  but  in  the  day  that 
should  burn  as  an  oven,  (when  the  whole  hemisphere 
should  be  as  one  fiery  vault,)  they  should  be  burnt  up  as 
Rtubble,  and  neither  root  nor  branch  be  left  of  them  ;  and 
all  this  upon  the  concern  he  had  for  his  name,  which  was 
reproached  by  such  a  people's  pretending  to  it.  Where- 
upon, they  had  been  threatened  (ch.  ii.  v.  2.)  that  except 
)<Jiey  did  give  glory  to  his  name  he  would  curse  them,  and 
their  blessings,  corrupt  their  seed,  spread  dung  upon  their 
faces,  even  that  of  iheir  solemn  feasts,  and  they  should  be 
taken  away  therewith. 

It  is  therefore  possible  the  whole  force  of  this  argument 
may  lie  against  us,  in  praying  for  such  a  people.  I  say,  it 
is  possible  it  may  whether  actually  it  do  or  no,  we  can 
never  be  competent  judges.  Our  knowledge  is  not  large 
enough,  nor  our  minds  enough  comprehensive.  Our  wis- 
dom is  folly  itself  to  the  estimating  such  a  case.  We  are 
capable  of  pronouncing  hastily,  it  would  in  this  or  that 
particular  respect,  be  dishonourable,  and  an  obscurement 
of  God's  name,  if  he  should  cast  oiT  England.  But  he  that 
pronounces  hastily,  considers  but  a  few  things,  and  looks 
but  a  little  way. 

The  question  is,  whether,  all  things  compared  and  con- 
sidered together,  that  belong  to  such  a  case,  it  will  be  more 
honourable  to  God  or  dishonourable,  and  more  or  less  re- 
commend him  to  intelligent  minds,  get  him  a  greater 
and  more  excellent  name  and  renown  in  the  world,  when 
it  shall  be  enlightened  to  consider  the  case,  to  break  off 
his  relation  or  continue  if?  We  know  his  own  judgment 
is  according  to  truth,  and  hope  he  will  judge  the  way  that 
will  be  more  favourable  to  us.  But  we  cannot  be  certain 
of  it.  'Tis  a  case  that  requires  the  judgment  of  his  all- 
comprehending  mind,  whose  prospect  is  large  every  way  ; 
and  takes  in  all  the  decencies  and  indecencies  that  escape 
our  notice.  As  we  know  in  viewing  things  with  the  eye, 
a  quick  and  clear  sight  (especially  helped  with  a  fit  in- 
strument) will  discern  many  things,  so  fine  and  minute,  as 
to  be,  to  a  duller  eye,  altogether  invisible.  It  is  the  work 
of  wisdom  and  judgment,  to  discern  exactly  the  critical 
seasons  and  junctures  of  time,  when  to  do  this  or  that. 
And  the  wise  God  in  his  dispensations,  especially  towards 
a  great  community,  or  the  collective  body  of  a  people, 
takes  usually  a  vast  compass  of  time,  within  which  to 
select  the  apt  and  fit  season,  for  this  or  that  act,  whether 
of  severity  or  merc)^  towards  them.  And  it  is  more  fit,  as, 
by  the  coincidence  of  things,  it  contributes  more  to  the 
greater  glory  of  his  name.  We  cannot  discern  the  things, 
the  concurrence  whereof  makes  this  a  filter  season  than 
another,  that  such  an  event  should  be  placed  just  there, 
within  so  large  a  tract  of  time.  What  mortal  man,  or  in- 
deed what  finite  mind,  was  capable  of  judging  some  hun- 
dreds of  years  before,  what  was  just  wanting  to  the  fulness 
of  the  Amorites'  sin,  so  as  that  it  should  be  more  honour- 
able and  glorious  to  the  Divine  justice,  not  to  animadvert 
thereon,  till  that  very  time  when  he  did  it.  Or  wliy  he 
chose  that  time  which  he  pitched  upon,  wherein  to  come 
down,  and  deliver  his  Israel  from  their  Egyptian  oppres- 
sors. Or  when  (without  inspiration)  to  be  able  to  say,  the 
time  to  favour  Zion,  even  the  set  time,  is  come.  Nor  are 
we  to  resolve  the  matter  only  into  the  absoluteness  of  his 
sovereignty,  upon  the  account  whereof  he  may  take  what 
time  he  pleases ;  but  the  depth  of  his  hidden  wisdom,  for 
he  doth  all  things  according  to  the  counsel  of  his  will, 
having  reasons  to  himself,  which  our  shallow,  dim  sight 
perceives  not,  and  whereof  we  are  infinitely  less  able  to 
make  a  sure  judgment,  than  a  countrj^  idiot  of  reasons  of 
state.  He  may  (as  to  the  present  case)  think  it  most  fit, 
most  honourable,  and  glorious,  so  often  to  forgive,  or  so 
-ong  to  forbear  such  a  delinquent  people;  and  may,  at 
length,  judge  it  most  becoming  him,  and  most  worthy  of 
him,  as  he  is  the  common  Ruler  of  the  world,  and  their 
injured  despised  Ruler,  to  strike  the  fatal  stroke,  and  quite 
cut  them  off  from  him. 

Now  here  it  is,  therefore,  necessarily  our  duty,  to  use 
his  argument  with  him  of  his  name,  so,  as  wholly  to  sub- 
nit  the  matter  to  his  judgment,  and  but  conditionally,  if 
It  will  indeed  make  most  for  the  glory  of  his  name,  that 
hen  he  will  not  abhor  ^nd  reject  such  a  people  even  for 


his  name's  sake.  Nor  can  we  herein  be  too  importn- 
nate,  if  we  be  not  peremptory,  not  too  intent  upon  the 
end,  the  glory  of  his  name  ;  for  about  the  goodness,  ex- 
cellency, and  desirableness  of  that  we  are  certain  ;  if  we 
be  not  too  determinate  about  the  means,  or  what  will  be 
most  honourable  to  his  name,  concerning  which  we  are 
uncertain.  Neither  is  it  disallowed  us  to  u.se  the  best 
judgment  we  can,  about  the  means,  and  the  interest  of 
God's  name  in  this  case.  It  is  not  our  fault  to  be  mis- 
taken ;  he  expects  us  not  to  use  the  judgment  of  gods. 
Bui  it  will  be  our  fault  to  be  peremptory  and  confident  in 
a  matter,  wherein  we  may  be  mistaken  ;  and  must  signify 
too  much  ofliciousness,  as  if  we  understood  his  affairs 
better  than  himself,  and  a  bold  insolence,  to  take  upon  us 
to  be  the  absolute  judges  of  what  we  understand  not ;  and 
to  cover  our  presumption  with  a  pretence  of  duty.  There- 
fore though  such  a  people  be  dear  to  us,  yet  because  his 
name  ought  to  be  infinitely  more  dear,  that,  in  the  settled 
bent  of  our  hearts,  we  ought  to  prefer;  and  be  patient  of 
his  sentence,  whatever  it  proves  to  be,  with  deep  resent- 
ment of  our  own  desert,  bat  with  high  complacency  that 
his  name  is  vindicated  and  glorified,  and  with  a  sincere, 
undissembled  applause  of  the  justice  of  his  proceedings, 
how  severe  soever  they  may  be  towards  us  ;  especially  if 
we  have  reason  to  hope,  that  severitj'  will  terminate,  but 
in  a  temporary  discountenance  and  "frown,  not  in  a  final 
rejection. 

2.  Much  more  are  we  to  submit  our  own  secular  con- 
cernments, which  may  be  involved  ;  i.  e.  wc  ought  only  to 
pray  we  may  have  the  continued,  I'ree  profession  and  ex- 
ercise of  our  religion,  in  conjunction  with  the  comfortable 
enjoyment  of  the  good  things  of  this  life,  if  that  may  con- 
sist with  and  best  serve  the  honour  of  his  great  name. 
But  if  he  do  really  make  this  judgment  in  our  case,  that 
we  have  so  misdemeaned  ourselves,  and  been  so  little 
really  belter  to  common  observation,  in  our  practice  and 
conversation,  than  men  of  a  worse  religion,  that  he  cannot 
Avithout  injury  to  his  name,  and  the  reputation  of  his 
government,  countenance  us  against  them,  by  the  visible 
favours  of  his  providence;  that  it  will  not  be  honourable 
for  him  to  protect  us  in  our  religion,  to  so  little  purpose  ; 
and  while  we  so  little  answer  the  true  design  of  it ;  that  if 
we  will  retain  our  religion  (which  we  know  we  are  upon 
no  terms  to  quit)  we  must  suffer  for  it,  and  sanctify  that 
name  before  men  by  our  suffering,  which  Ave  dishonoured 
by  our  sinning.  We  have  nothing  left  us  to  do  but  to  sub- 
mit to  God,  to  humble  ourselves  under  his  mighty  hand, 
to  accept  the  punishment  of  our  sin,  to  put  off  our  orna- 
ments, expecting  Avhat  he  Avill  do  with  us.  And  be  con- 
tent that  our  dAvellings,  our  substance,  our  ease  and  rest, 
our  liberties  and  lives,  if  he  will  have  it  so,  be  all  sacrifices 
to  the  honour  of  that  excellent  name.  Nor  can  our  use  of 
this  argument  Avant  such  submission  Avithout  much  insin- 
cerity. Concerning  this  therefore  look  back  to  Avhat  Avas 
said  on  the  former  head. 

Nor  is  there  any  hardship  in  the  matter,  that  we  are  thus 
limited  in  our  praying,  for  what  CA'cn  nature  itself  teacheth 
us  to  desire,  our  safety,  peace,  and  outAvard  comforts  ;  un- 
less Ave  count  it  a  hardship  that  we  are  creatures,  and  that 
God  is  God,  and  that  ours  is  not  the  supreme  interest. 
The  desires  of  the  sensitive  nature  are  not  otherwise  to  be 
formed  into  petitions  than  by  the  direction  of  the  rational, 
that  also  being  governed  by  a  superadded  holy,  divine 
nature;  unto  which  it  is  a  supreme  and  a  Aiial  laAv,  that 
God  is  to  be  the  first-eyed  in  cA'ery  thing.  Reason  teaches 
that  so  it  should  be,  and  grace  makes  it  be  so.  And  it 
ought  to  be  far  from  us  to  think  this  a  hardship;  Avhen  in 
reference  to  our  greater  and  more  considerable  concern- 
ments, those  of  our  souls,  and  our  eternal  stales,  we  are 
put  upon  no  such  (dubious  suspenseful)  submission.  He 
hath  not,  in  these,  left  the  matter  at  all  doubtful,  or  at  any 
uncertainty,  whether  he  will  reckon  it  more  honourable  to 
his  name  to  save,  or  destroy  eternally,  a  sincerely  penitent, 
believing,  obedient  soul.  He  hath  settled  a  firm  connex- 
ion hetAveen  the  felicity  of  such  and  his  OAvn  glorA'.  And 
never  put  it  upon  us,  as  sr\\  part  of"our  duly,  to  be  con- 
tented to  perish  for  ever,  that  he  maybe  glorified  ;  or  ever 
to  ask  ourselves  whether  Ave  are  so  content  or  no.  For  he 
hath  made  such  things  our  present,  immediate,  indispen- 
sable duty,  a-^  with  which  our  perishmg  is  not  consistent. 


500 


PRAYER  FROM  THE  NAME  OF  GOD. 


and  upon  supposition  whereof,  it  is  impossible  we  should 
not  be  hapi  y.  If  we  believe  in  his  Son,  and  snbmit  to 
his  government,  his  name  pleads  irresistibly  for  our  being 
saved  by  him.  He  can  have  no  higher  glory  from  us,  than 
that  we  be  to  the  praise  of  the  glory  of  his  grace,  being  once 
accepted  in  the  beloved.  Neither  is  it  disallowed  us  to 
do  the  part  of  concives,  fellow-members  of  a  commxinity, 
civil,  or  spiritual,  to  pray  very  earnestly  for  our  people, 
city, 'country,  that  are  so  justly  dear  to  us.  Only  since 
prayer  itself  is  an  acknowledgment  of  his  superiority  to 
whom  we  pray;  and  we  have  no  argument,  that  we  ought 
to  hope  should  prevail,  but  that  of  his  own  name  ;  we  can 
but  pray  and  plead  as  the  nature  of  prayer,  and  the  import 
of  tliat  argument,  will  admit,  i.  e.  with  entire  subjection  to 
his  holy  and  sovereign  will,  and  subordination  to  his  su- 
preme interest,  to  whom  we  address  ourselves  m  prayer. 

Use.  And  now  the  use  this  will  be  of  to  us,  is  partly  to 
correct  and  reprehend  our  prayers,  wherein  they  shall  be 
found  disagreeable  to  the  true  import  of  this  argument, 
and  partly 'to  persuade  unto  and  encourage  such  praying, 
as  shall  be  agreeable  to  it. 

1.  It  justly  and  aptly  serves  to  reprehend  and  correct, 
such  praying  as  disagrees  with  it ;  especially  the  carnality 
and  the  selfishness  of  our  prayers.  The  use  of  this  argu- 
ment implies  that  the  glory  of  God,  and  the  exaltation  of 
his  name,  should  be  the  principal  design  of  our  prayers. 
Is  it  not  in  these  respects  much  otherwise  1  We  keep  fast 
after  fast,  and  make  many  prayers.  And  what  is  the  chief 
design  of  theml  or  the  thing  we  are  most  intent,  and 
which  our  hearts  are  principally  set  upon  1  We  see  how 
God  expostulates  this  matter,  Zech.  vii.  5.  When  ye  fasted 
and  mourned,  in  the  fifth  and  seventh  month,  even  those 
seventy  years,  did  you  at  all  fast  unto  me,  even  unto  mel 
Why,  to  whom  can  it  be  thought  this  people  did  keep  fasts 
but  unto  God  7  Yes,  no  doubt  they  did  eye  him,  as  the 
object,  but  not  as  the  end.  They  were  kept  to  him,  but 
not  for  him,  so  as  that  his  interest  and  glory  was  the  thing 
principally  designed  in  them;  nor  can  it  be,  if  the  things 
we  chiefly  insist  upon,  be  such  as  have  no  connexion  with 
his  true  interest,  or  subserviency  to  it.  And  let  us  inquire 
upon  these  two  heads  ;  whether  our  prayers,  in  these  re- 
spects, do  not  run  in  such  a  strain,  as  that  they  cannot  pos- 
sibly be  understood  to  mean  him,  or  have  a  true  reference 
to  him. 

1.  In  respect  of  the  carnality  of  them.  When  we  pray 
for  the  people  of  our  own  land,  or  for  the  Christian  church 
more  generally,  what  sort  of  evils  is  it  that  we  find  our 
hearts  most  feelingly  to  deprecate,  and  pray  against?  what 
are  the  good  things  we  chiefly  desire  for  them  7  We  find 
ourselves,  'tis  likely,  to  have  somewliat  a  quick  sense  and 
dread  of  the  calamities  of  war,  depredation,  oppression, 
persecution,  and  we  feel,  probably,  somewhat  of  sympathy 
within  ourselves,  when  we  hear  of  any  abroad,  professing 
true,  reformed  Christianity,  that  suffer  the  spoiling  of  their 
goods,  are  banished  from  their  present  homes,  dragged  to 
prisons,  pressed  with  pinching  necessities,  for  the  sake  of 
their  religion;  and  it  were  well  if  our  compassions  were 
more  enlarged  in  such  cases.  And  if  we  should  hear  of 
nations  depopulated,  cities  sacked,  towns  and  countries 
deluged  with  blood  and  slaughter,  these  things  would  cer- 
tainly have  an  astonishing  sound  in  our  ears.  But  have 
we  any  proportionable  sense  of  the  spiritual  evils  that 
waste  and  deform  the  Christian  church,  exhaust  its  strength 
and  vigour,  and  blemish  its  beauty  and  glory  1  Ignorance, 
terrene  inclination,  glorying  in  the  external  forms  of  reli- 
gion, while  the  life  and  power  of  it  are  unknown  and 
denied,  estrangement  from  God,  real  infidelity  towards  the 
Redeemer,  veiled  over  by  pretended,  nominal  Christianity, 
uncharitableness,  pride,  wrath,  strife,  envy,  hatred,  hypo- 
crisy, deceitfulness  towards  God  and  manl  We  ought  to 
lament  and  deprecate  the  former  evils  without  overlooking 
these,  or  counting  them  less,  or  being  less  atfected  with 
them.  We  are  apt  to  pray  for  peace  unto  the  Christian 
community,  for  halcyon  days,  prosperity,  the  abundance 
of  all  outward  blessings,  in  conjunction  with  the  universal 
reception  of  such  forms  of  religion,  as  are  most  agreeable 
to  our  minds  and  inclinations.  Bui  doM^e  as  earnestly  pray 
for  the  reviving  of  primitive  Christianity,  and  that  the 
Christian  church  may  shine  in  the  beauties  of  holiness,  in 
heavenliness,  faith,  love  to  God  and  one  another,  in  sim- 


plicity, meekness,  patience,  humility,  contempt  of  this  pre- 
sent world,  and  purity  from  all  the  corruptions  of  it.  This 
we  chiefly  ought  to  have  done,  without  leaving  the  other 
undone.  Which  while  it  is  left  out  of  our  prayers,  or  not 
more  principally  insisted  on  in  them,  how  ill  do  they  ad- 
mit of  enforcement  by  this  argument  from  the  name  of 
God  !  For  do  we  think  it  is  so  very  honourable  to  his 
name,  to  be  the  God  of  an  op-ulent,  luxurious,  voluptuous, 
proud,  wrathful,  contentious  people,  under  what  religious 
form  or  denomination  soever  1 

2.  But  also  do  not  our  pra)^ers  chiefly  centre  in  our- 
selves, while  we  make  a  customary  (not  understood)  use 
in  them  of  the  name  of  God  1  And  when  we  principally 
design  ourselves  in  our  prayers,  what  is  it  we  covet  most 
for  ourselves  1  'Tis  not  agreeable  to  the  holy,  new  divine 
nature,  to  desire  to  engross  spiritual  good  things  to  our- 
selves ;  when  for  others,  we  desire  only  the  good  things  of 
this  earth.  But  if  our  prayers  do  only  design  the  averting 
from  ourselves  outward  calamities,  or  inconveniences,  and 
the  obtaining  only  of  ease,  indulgence,  and  all  grateful 
accommodations  to  our  flesh,  how  absurd  an  hypocrisy  is 
it  to  fashion  up  such  a  petition,  by  adding  to  it,  for  thy 
name's  sake !  As  if  the  name  of  God  did  oblige  him  to 
consult  the  ease  and  repose  of  our  flesh !  when  our  souls, 
thereby,  are  made  and  continued  the  nurseries  of  all  the 
evil,  vicious  inclinations,  which  show  themselves  in  our 
practice,  mo.st  of  all  to  the  dishonour  of  that  name!  What 
subordination  is  there  here  1  Manifest  is  the  opposition  of 
our  carnal  interest  to  the  interest  and  honour  of  the  bless- 
ed name  of  God.  If  a  malefactor,  convicted  of  the  highest 
crimes  against  the  government,  should  petition  for  himself 
to  this  purpose,  that  it  will  bring  a  great  disreputation 
upon  authority,  and  detract  from  the  famed  clemency  and 
goodness  of  the  prince,  if  any  punishment  should  be  in- 
flicted on  him  for  his  offences,  or  if  he  be  not  indulged  and 
suffered  to  persist  in  them;  how  would  this  petition  sound 
with  sober,  intelligent  menl  'Tis  no  wonder  our  flesh 
regrets  suffering,  but  'tis  strange  our  reason  should  be  so 
lo.st,  as  to  think^  at  random,  that  right  or  wrong  the  name 
of  God  is  not  otherwise  to  be  indemnified  than  by  its 
being  saved  from  suffering.  As  if  the  gratification  of  our 
flesh  and  the  glory  of  God's  name  were  so  very  nearly  re- 
lated, and  so  much  akin  to  one  another  !  And  now  this 
carnal  self-interest,  insinuating  itself,  and  thus  distorting 
our  prayers,  is  the  radical  evil  in  them,  and  the  first  and 
original  part  of  their  faultiness.  For  it  is  not  likely  we 
should  love  others  better  than  ourselves;  therefore  we 
cannot  go  higher  in  supplicating  for  others.  But  yet  we 
inconsiderately  mention  the  name  of  God  for  fashion's 
sake,  though  it  be  no  way  concerned  in  the  matter,  unless 
to  vindicate  and  greaten  itself,  in  rejecting  us  and  our 
prayers  together. 

2.  The  further  use  of  what  hath  been  said  upon  this 
subject,  will  be  to  persuade  and  engage  us  to  have  more 
regard  to  the  name  of  God  in  our  prayers,  especially  in  our 
praying  about  national  and  public  concernments;  or  such 
external  concernments  of  our  own  as  are  involved  with 
them.  That,  in  the  habitual  temper  of  our  spirits,  we 
be  so  entirely  and  absolutely  devoted  to  God,  and  the 
interest  of  his  great  name,  that  our  prayers  may  savour 
of  it,  and  be  of  an  agreeable  strain;  that  the  inward  sense 
of  our  souls  may  fully  correspond  to  the  true  import  of  this 
argument,  and  our  hearts  may  not  reproach  us,  when  we 
use  it,  is  only  pretending  God,  but  meaning  ourselves,  and 
that  only  our  carnal  self,  the  interest  whereof  alone  can 
be  in  competition  with  that  of  God's  name,  and  which, 
while  it  prevails  in  us,  will  be  the  measure  of  our  prayers 
for  others  also;  that  the  meaning  of  our  words  may  not 
be  one,  and  the  meaning  of  our  hearts  another,  that  we 
may  truly  mean  as  we  speak  when  we  use  the  words  for 
thy  name's  sake.  And  that  our  hearts  may  bear  us  this 
true  testimony,  that  we  desire  nothing  but  in  due  sub- 
ordination to  the  glory  of  his  name;  external  favours 
with  limiiation,  only  so  far  as  they  may;  and  spiritual 
blessings  absolutely,  because  they  certainly  will,  admit  of 
this  subordination.  And  to  this  purpose  let  it  be  con- 
sidered, 

1.  How  unsuitable  it  is  to  the  condition  of  a  creature, 
that  it  should  be  otherwise.  That  were  certainly  a  most 
uncreaturely  prayer,  that  should  be  of  a  contrary  tenor. 


PRAYER  FROM  THE  NAME  OF  GOD. 


501 


Let  us  but  digest  and  state  the  case  aright  in  our  own 
thoughts.  Admit  we  are  praying  with  great  ardenc}%  on 
the  behalf  of  a  people  to  which  we  are  related,  and  who 
are  also  related  to  God.  It  can  scarce  be  thought  we  are 
more  concerned  for  them  than  for  ourjselves  ;  or  that  we 
love  them  more  than  we  do  ourselves.  Our  love  to  our- 
selves is  the  usual  measure  of  our  love  to  others.  And  that 
is  higher  in  the  same  kind,  which  is  the  measure  of  all 
besides,  that  belongs  to  that  kind.  When  therefore  we  are 
much  concerned  for  the  external  felicity  of  such  a  people, 
it  is  very  natural  to  be  more  deeply  concerned  for  our  own. 
Now  if  the  sense  of  our  hearts,  in  such  a  prayer,  will  not 
agree  with  the  true  import  of  these  words,  "  for  thy  name's 
sake  ;"  because  indeed,  we  are  more  concerned  for  our 
own  carnal  peace,  ease,  and  accommodation  than  we  are 
for  the  name  of  God ;  let  us,  that  we  may  have  the  matter 
more  clearly  in  view,  put  our  request  into  such  words,  as 
wherewith  the  sense  of  our  hearts  will  truly  agree,  and 
will  it  not  be  thus,  "  Lord,  whatever  becomes  of  thy  name, 
let  nothing  be  done  that  shall  be  grievous,  and  disquieting 
to  my  flesh;"  which  is  as  much  as  to  say,  Cluit  thy  throne 
to  it,  resign  thy  government,  abandon  all  thy  great  in- 
terests for  the  service  and  gratification  of  this  animated 
clod  of  clay ;  and  do  we  not  now  begin  to  blush  at  our 
own  prayer  1  We  easily  slide  over  such  a  matter  as  this, 
while  our  sense  is  more  latent,  and  not  distinctly  reflected 
on,  but  let  us  have  it  before  us  conceptis  verbis  ;  let  it  ap- 
pear with  its  own  natural /«ce  and  look ;  and  now  see  what 
horror  and  deteslableness  jt  carries  with  it !  And  dare  we 
now  put  up  so  treasonable  a  prayer  1  It  would  puzzle  all 
our  arithmetic,  to  assign  the  quota  pars,  or  the  proportional 
part,  any  of  us  is  of  the  universe,  or  the  whole  creation  of 
God  !  And  do  I  think  it  fit  that  the  heavens  should  roll  for 
me  ■?  or  all  the  mighty  wheels  of  providence  move  only 
with  regard  to  my  convenience  1  If  a  worm  in  your  gar- 
den were  capable  of  thought,  and  because  it  is  permitted 
to  crawl  there,  should  think,  this  garden  was  made  for  me, 
and  everj'^  thing  in  it  ought  to  be  ordered  for  my  accom- 
modation and  pleasure,  would  you  not  wonder  that  such 
insolence,  and  a  disposition  to  think  so  extravagantly, 
should  be  in  conjunction  with  the  thinking  power  or  an 
ability  to  think  at  all.  If  we  allow  ourselves  in  that  far 
greater  (infinitely  more  unbeseeming  and  disproportion- 
able)  petulancy,  do  we  think  when  the  roller  comes  it  will 
scruple  to  crush  us,  or  have  regard  to  our  immodest,  pre- 
tenceless  claim  1  Let  us  consider  what  little,  minute 
things,  how  next  to  noihing  we  are,  even  compared  with 
all  the  rest  of  the  world ;  what  are  we  when  compared 
with  the  Maker  and  Lord  of  it,  in  comparison  of  whom, 
the  whole  is  but  as  the  drop  of  a  bucket,  or  the  small  dust 
of  the  balance,  lighter  than  nothing,  and  vanit}' !  We 
should  more  contemplate  ourselves  in  such  a  comparison ; 
many  comparing  themselves  with  themselves  are  not  wise. 
While  we  confine  and  limit  our  e^'e  onlj^  to  ourselves,  we 
seem  great  things,  fancy  ourselves  very  considerable. 
But  what  am  I "?  What  is  my  single  personality,  ipseity, 
self-hood,  (call  it  what  you  will,)  to  him  who  is  the  all  in 
•all  1  whose  being  (actually  or  radically)  comprehends  all 
being,  all  that  I  can  conceive,  and  the  infinitely  greater 
all  that  I  cannot.  If  therefore  I  take  in  with  myself  the 
whole  body  of  a  people  besides,  that  I  am  concerned  for, 
and  admit  that  a  generous  love  to  mj'^  country  should  make 
me  prefer  their  concernments  to  my  own  ;  or  that  upon  a 
higher  account,  as  they  are  a  people  related  to  God,  I 
could  even  lay  down  my  life  for  thom.  What  are  we  all, 
and  all  our  interests,  to  that  of  his  name  1  And  if  we 
should  all  agree  in  a  desire,  that  our  interest  should  be 
served  upon  the  dishonour  of  that  name,  it  were  but  a 
treasonable  conspiracy  against  our  common,  rightful  Lord. 
And  a  foolish  one,  being  expressed  in  a  prayer  ;  as  if  we 
thought  to  engage  him,  by  our  faint  breath,  against  him- 
self We  are  to  desire  no  more  for  them,  than  they  may 
for  themselves.  And  if  we  have  joined  in  open  sinning 
against  him,  to  that  height  that  he  shall  judge  he  is  obliged 
for  the  vindication  and  honour  of  his  name,  (by  which  we 
have  been  called,)  of  his  wisdom,  holiness,  and  punitive 
justice,  as  openly  to  animadvert  upon  us,  can  we  gainsay'? 
If  we  know  of  such  a  judgment  nothing  could  remain  for 
us  but  shame  and  silence,  conviction  of  ill  desert,  and 
patient  bearing  the  punishment  of  our  sin.  And  while  we 
36 


know  it  not,  yet  because  it  is  possible,  we  ought  no  other- 
wise to  deprecate  such  a  procedure  against  us,  thein  as 
will  consist  with  that  possibility.  To  pray  oiherwi.se,  if 
we  make  no  mention  of  his  name,  is  absurd  presumption, 
that  we  should  wish  or  imagine  he  will  prefer  any  con- 
cernments of  ours,  to  the  steady  order  and  decorum  of  his 
own  government.  But  if  we  do  make  mention  of  it,  'lis 
a  more  absurd  hypocrisy  to  seem  concerned  for  his  name 
when  we  intend  only  our  own  external  advantages  !  as  if 
we  thought  he  that  could  answer  our  prayers,  could  not 
understand  them.  'Tis  surely  very  unbecoming  creatures 
to  bear  themselves  so  towards  the  God  that  made  them. 

2.  Consider,  that  to  have  a  sense  in  our  hearts  truly 
agreeable  to  the  proper  meaning  of  this  argument,  for  thy 
name's  sake,  is  very  suitable  to  the  state  of  returning 
creatures,  who  are  gathering  themselves  back  to  God,  out 
of  the  common  apostacy  wherein  all  were  engaged  and 
combined  against  that  great  Lord  and  Ruler  of  the  world. 
In  that  defection  every  one  did  principally  mind  and  set 
up  for  himself  Each  one  would  be  a  God  to  him.self, 
but  all  were,  by  consequence,  against  God.  Whom  to  be 
for,  they  were  divided,  and  of  as  many  minds  as  there 
were  men.  Whom  to  be  against,  they  were  agreed,  as  if 
their  common  Lord  was  the  common  enemy.  For  his  in- 
terest and  theirs  were  opposite  and  irreconcileable.  They 
were  sunk  and  lost  in  sensuality,  and  had  no  other  in- 
terest than  that  of  their  flesh.  When  man  hath  made 
himself  a  brute,  he  then  thinks  himself  fittest  to  be  a  god. 
The  interest  of  our  souls  must  unite  us  with  him  ;  that  of 
our  flesh  engages  us  against  him.  Some  are  through  the 
power  of  his  grace  returning.  What  a  pleasure  would  it 
be  to  us  to  behold  ourselves  among  the  reducers  !  those 
that  are  upon  their  return  ;  that  are  again  taking  the 
Lord  only  to  be  their  God,  and  his  interest  for  their  only 
interest ! 

3.  Consider  that  our  very  name,  as  we  are  Christians, 
obliges  us  to  be  of  that  obedient,  happy  number.  For 
what  is  Christianity  but  the  tendency  of  souls  towards 
God,  through  the  mediation  and  under  the  conduct  of 
Christ  1  Therefore  is  the  initial  precept  of  it,  and  the 
condition  of  our  entrance  into  that  blessed  state,  self-de- 
nial. We  answer  not  our  o^n  name,  further  than  as  we 
are  revolving  and  rolling  back  out  of  our  single  and  sepa- 
rate state,  into  our  original  most  natural  state  of  subordi- 
nation to  God,  wherein  only  we  are  capable  of  union  with 
him,  and  final  blessedness  in  him.  This  is  disciplesbip  to 
Christ,  and  the  design  of  the  Christian  religion,  to  be 
subdued  in  our  spirits,  and  wrought  down  into  compliance 
with  the  Divine  will ;  to  be  meek,  lowly,  humble,  patient, 
ready  to  take  up  the  cross,  to  bear  any  thing,  lose  any 
thing,  be  any  thing,  or  be  nothing,  that  God  may  be  all  in 
all.  This  is  our  conformity,  not  to  the  precepts  only  but 
to  the  example  too,  of  our  great  Lord.  Who  when  he 
was  in  the  form  of  God,  and  thought  it  not  robbery  to  be 
equal  with  God  ;  made  himself  of  no  reputation,  and  took 
upon  him  the  form  of  a  servant,  and  was  made  in  the 
likeness  of  man  ;  and  being  found  in  fashion  as  a  man, 
humbled  himself  and  become  obedient  unto  death,  even 
the  death  of  the  cross,  Phil.  ii.  6,  7,  8.  And  hereupon,  be- 
cause he  was  so  entirely  devoted  to  the  honour  and  service 
of  God's  great  name,  (Father,  glorify  thy  name,  summed 
up  his  desires,)  therefore  God  highly  exalted  him,  and 
gave  him  a  name  above  every  name,  that  in  the  name  of 
Jesus  every  knee  should  bow,  &c.  ver.  9,  10.  And  when- 
ever he  shall  have  a  church  in  the  world,  that  he  will 
think  it  fit  to  own  with  visible,  unintermitted  favours,  it 
must  consist  of  persons  formed  according  to  that  pattern. 
And  then,  by  losing  their  own  name  and  little  interests  for 
God's,  they  will  find  all  recovered,  when  their  glorious 
Redeemer  shall  write  upon  them  the  name  of  his  Gtod, 
and  the  name  of  the  city  of  his  Gk)d,  and  his  own  new 
name.  Rev.  iii.  1*2. 

4.  Let  it  be  further  (in  the  last  place)  considered,  with 
what  cheerfulness  and  confidence  we  ma}'  then  pray ; 
when  our  hearts  are  wrought  to  the  piich,  that  we  sin- 
cerely design  the  honour  of  the  Divine  name  as  the  most 
desirable  thing-,  and  which  name  above  all  things  we  covet 
to  have  glorified.  For  we  are  sure  of  being  heard,  and  to 
have  the  same  answer  which  was  given  our  Lord  by  a 
voice  like  that  of  thunder  from  heaven,  when  he  prayed, 


502 


PRAYER  FROM  THE  NAME  OF  GOD. 


Father,  glorify  thy  name,  (John  xii.)  I  have  both  glorified 
it,  and  will  glorify  it  again.  Our  hearts  are  not  right  in 
us,  till  we  can  count  this  a  pleasant,  grateful  answer. 
And  if  we  can,  we  can  never  fail  of  it.  For  we  are  told, 
1  John  V.  14.  That  whatsoever  we  ask  according  to  his 
will  he  heareth  us.  This  will  deliver  our  minds  from 
suspense.  When  we  pray  for  nothing  whereof  we  are 
uncertain,  but  with  great  deference  and  submission,  and 
for  nothing  absolutely  and  with  greatest  engagement  if 
heart,  but  whereof  we  are  certain ;  upon  such  terms  we 
may  pray  with  great  assurance  ;  as  Daniel  did,  O  Lord, 
hear;  O  Lord,  forgive  ;  O  Lord,  hearken  and  do;  defer 


not  for  thine  own  sake,  O  my  God  ;  for  thy  city  and  thy 
people  are  called  by  thy  name,  ch.  ix.  19.  And  though 
an  angel  be  not  thereupon  sent  to  tell  us,  as  was  to  him, 
so  many  weeks  are  determined  upon  thy  people  and  thy 
holy  city,  (so  the  matter  is  expressed  ;  as  it  were,  kindly 
giving  back  the  interest  in  them  to  Daniel,  with  advantage, 
that  he  had  before  acknowledged  unto  God,)  to  finish  the 
transgression,  and  to  make  an  end  of  sins,  and  to  make 
reconciliation  for  iniquity,  &c.  yet  we  are  assured,  of  what 
reasonably  ought  to  be  as  satisfying,  that  whatsoever  shall 
befall  our  city  or  our  people,  shall  end  in  the  eternal  g-lorv 
of  God,  and  of  the  citv  of  God. 


THE 


OFFICE  AND  WORK  OF    THE   HOLY  SPIRIT, 


IN  EVERY  AGE,  WITH  REFERENCE  TO  PARTICULAR  PERSONS  J 


CONSIDERED    IN   SEVERAL    SERMONS, 


ON  JOHN  III.  6.  AND  GALATIANS  V.  25. 


TO    MRS.    HOWE. 


Madam, 
It  was  apprehended  the  entire  thoughts  of  this  great  man,  upon  so  important  a  subject,  might  be  very  useful  to  the 
world,  and  acceptable  to  many ;  and  though  they  are  only  a  specimen  of  his  ordinary  course  of  preaching,  without 
any  finishing  hand,  or  further  design,  or  perhaps,  always  his  ripest  thoughts  ;  yet  they  carry  the  lively  signatures  of 
the  admirable  genius,  and  excellent  spirit,  which  always  appeared  in  his  composures,  and  rendered  them  so  peculiar- 
ly fit  to  instruct  and  impress  the  minds  of  men.  Whosoever  considers  the  compass  and  variety  of  the  matter,  the 
thread  and  connexion  of  the  thoughts,  the  striking  imagery,  and  the  pertinence  and  pungency  of  the  expression,  will 
see  reason  to  admire  the  vast  capacity  of  the  author,  and  be  easily  disposed  to  forgive  any  lesser  neglects  and  es- 
capes; especially  when  he  only  proposed  to  speak  familiarly  and  without  any  written  notes,  Eind  allowed  himself  a 
liberty  in  expressing  the  well  digested  and  disposed  conceptions  of  his  mind. 

It  will  be  necessary  for  your  satisfaction,  as  well  as  the  reader's,  to  assure  you,  that  the  same  care  has  been  taken, 
and  the  same  method  observed,  in  reviewing  and  transcribing  this  part  of  the  subject,  as  was  used  in  the  other  ;  as 
the  manuscript  was  writ  by  the  same  skilful  and  diligent  hand. 

The  intimacy  of  a  long  friendship,  and  mutual  respect,  the  endearments  of  the  nearest  relation,  for  several  of  the 
latter  years  of  his  life  ;  the  high  honour  you  always  paid  him,  and  the  singular  value  he  expressed  for  you,  living 
and  dying;  give  you  the  best  title  to  these  two  volumes  of  posthumous  discourses  of  the  Spirit,  and  of  Family  Pray- 
er; and  to  any  respect  we  are  capable  of  showing  you.  We  believe  the  noble  argument,  as  well  as  the  excellent  au- 
thor, will  be  peculiarly  acceptable  and  delightful  to  you,  who  were  so  well  acquainted  with  his  spirit  and  preaching ; 
and  may  contribute  to  a  well-grounded  peace  of  mind  in  a  clearer  discerning  of  a  regenerate  state;  and  to  your  dai- 
ly walking  in  the  Spirit,  and  improvement  in  the  spiritual  life. 

This  is  the  sincere  desire  of, 

Honoured  Madam, 
Your  re.spectful  humble  servants, 


Goodman's-Pields, 
July  9,  1726. 


W.   HARRIS, 
JOHN  EVANS. 


SERMON  I.* 

John  iii.  6,  latter  part. 

T%a<  which  is  burn  of  the  Spirit  is  spirit. 

The  apostle  represents  the  ditferent  slates  of  men,accord- 
ing  to  the  different  temper  of  their  minds,  as  they  are  either 
carnal  or  spiritual ;  the  misery  and  deadliness  of  the 
former  ;  Rom.  viii.  that  "  to  be  carnally  minded  is  death:" 
ihe  life  and  peace  which  is  involved  in  the  other;  that  "  to 
be  spiritually  minded  is  life  and  peace."  We  are  present- 
ed in  this  text  with  a  view  of  the  two  great  fountains  of 
that  carnality  and  spirituality ,which  are  themselves  so  great 

*  Preaclwd  November  acth,  1677,  at  Cordwamer's  HaU. 


fountains  of  evil  and  good,  unto  the  children  of  men,  ac- 
cording as  the  one  or  the  other  hath  place  in  them.  The 
whole  verse  presents  us  with  a  view  of  both  ;  "  that  which 
is  born  of  the  flesh  is  flesh ;  and  that  which  is  born  of  the 
Spirit  is  spirit ;"  though  I  am  to  insist,  as  my  design  re- 
quires, onl}'  upon  the  latter.  Some  perhaps,  taking  some 
notice,  that  there  is  a  universal  death  reigning  over  this 
world,  by  reason  of  that  carnality  which  hath  spread  itself 
through  it ;  may  be  prone  to  inquire.  From  whence  is  it, 
that  so  prevailing  a  carnality  should  so  mortally  have  taint- 
ed the  spirits  of  men  every  where  1  And  this  our  Lord 
gives  no  other  account  of,  and  only  resolves  the  matter 
into  ordinary  human  propagation;  "that  which  is  born 
of  the  flesh  "is  flesh."  His  account  is  not  such  as  seems 
to  aim  at  gratifying  the  curious,  but  such  as  wherein  the 


504 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT 


[Serm.  I. 


sounder  mind  might  very  well  be  expected  to  acquiesce. 
It  being  taken  for  granted,  ihat  the  higher  original  of  hu- 
man nature  was  very  well  understood  and  known  ;  it 
might  seem  a  sufficient  account  of  the  original  of  that  cor- 
ruption, which  is  now  connate  with  the  nature  of  man, 
that  from  apostate  creatures,  such  as  were  like  themselves 
have  descended,  and  what  is  born  of  the  flesh,  is  nothing 
else  but  flesh  :  it  being  manifest  that  our  Saviour  intends 
to  comprehend  under  that  name,  with  the  nature  of  man, 
the  corruption  which  is  now  adhering  to  it.  But  serious 
and  awakened  inquiries  wonld  not  surcea'^e  here,  though 
they  were  never  so  well  satisfied  thus  far ;  but  at  least  ha- 
ving gotten  an  intimation  that  there  is  a  design  on  foot, 
for  the  restoring  of  life  and  peace  among  men,  who  were 
inuversally  sunk  into  carnality,  earthliness  and  death; 
they  would  carry  the  inquiry  further :  i.  e.  In  what  way  this 
is  ever  to  be  brought  to  pass;  by  whom  it  is  to  be  effected ; 
what  course  is  to  be  taken  to  bring  about  so  happy  and 
glorious  a  change,  with  any  of  this  wretched  and  forlorn 
world  1  At  least  they  would  take  notice  that  here  and 
there  is  a  rePH"Xa  spirituality  appearing,  and  putting  forth 
'tseii  open  to  view ;  though  there  is  too  little  of  it,  the 
Lord  knows.  Why,  whence  is  it,  how  comes  it  to  pass, 
that  here  and  there  we  can  perceive  spirit  and  life  flourish- 
ing afresh  in  the  world,  which  was  so  universally  over-run 
with  carnality  and  death  1  This  matter  our  Lord  gives  an 
account  of  in  the  words  which  T  have  designed  more  espe- 
cially to  consider;  and  resolves  it  wholly  into  a  spiritual 
production.  This  is  owing  to  nothing  else  but  the  Spirit, 
or  a  new  kind  of  creation,  and  generation:  the  Spirit  of 
the  living  God  has  taken  the  matter  into  his  own  hands,  to 
recover  and  revive  and  raise  up  life  and  spirit  out  of  this 
wretched  world,  which  is  so  lost  and  buried  in  flesh  and 
sin.  What  is  born  of  the  Spirit  is  spirit;  if  there  is  any 
such  thing  as  spirit,  any  thing  worthy  of  that  name  to  be 
found  now  among  men,  that  spirit  is  not  of  man,  but  the 
production  of  the  Eternal,  Almighty  Spirit. 

And  certainly  to  such  whose  hearts  are  deeply  and  tho- 
roughly concerned  about  a  matter  of  this  consequence,  this 
of  oar  Lord  here  cannot  but  be  a  very  grateful  discovery, 
and  carry  with  it  a  very  pleasant  and  joyful  sound  ;  that 
there  is  so  great  and  mighty  an  undertaker,  who  is  en- 
gaged in  this  affair,  thus  to  retrieve  things  among  men, 
and  make  life  and  spirit  spring  up  in  this  world,  so  univer- 
sally under  the  dominion  of  death.  Nor  can  it  be  more 
grateful  to  some  than  it  is  certainly  necessary  to  all  ;  and 
we  may  wonder  that  it  should  not  be  more  generally  ap- 
prehended so,  and  that  more  eyes  are  not  looking  wishly 
round  about.  What,  is  there  no  deliverer;  no  one  to  un- 
dertake! Is  there  no  one  suitable  to  such  an  undertaking 
as  this;  or  who  will  engage  in  it  1  to  repair  the  ruins  of 
perishing  flesh,  and  restore  the  life  of  God  among  men, 
who  were  alienated  from  the  life  of  God  1  But,  alas ! 
instead  of  such  solicitous  inquiries,  it  appears,  we  are 
fallen  into  an  age,  wherein  some  deny,  and  others  deride, 
and  most  utterly  disregard,  the  operations  of  the  blessed 
and  glorious  Spirit  of  God,  for  such  purpo.ses.  There  are 
multitudes  to  whom  the  mention  of  such  a  thing  is  m.at- 
ter  of  laughter.  What,  to  have  the  Spirit !  for  men  to 
talk  of  having  the  Spirit ! — And  there  are  a  great  many 
more,  we  have  reason  to  suppose,  who  do  as  little  concern 
themselves,  whether  they  ever  are  the  subject  of  such  op- 
erations of  this  Spirit,  as  if  they  were  yet  to  learn,  or  had 
never  heard,  whelher  there  were  any  Holy  Ghost:  as  is 
said  concerning  some.  Acts  xix.  2. 

It  is  therefore  my  design  and  purpose  from  sundry  texts 
of  Scripture,  which  may  successively  suit  our  purpose,  to 
assert  unto  you  the  office  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  in  reference 
to  the  refining  the  spirit  of  men,  and  restoring  the  life  of 
God  among  them  ;  to  show  that  such  a  work  is  attributed 
to  it;  to  let  vou  see  the  necessity  of  so  great  an  undertaker 
for  this  work,  and  his  abundant  sufficiency  for  it;  toshow 
you  by  whose  procurement,  and  for  whose  sake,  and  in 
whose  name,  it  is  employed  and  set  on  work  ;  and  in  what 
way,  and  through  what  "dispensation,  it  is  communicated, 
and  by  what  methods,  and  steps,  and  degrees,  it  carries  on 
this  work  tipon  the  spirits  of  the  elect  of  God,  till  having 
brought  them  to  sow  to  the  Spirit,  they  do  at  length  of  the 
Spirit  reap  life  everlasting. 

The  scripture  which  I  have  now  read  doth  plainly  hold 


forth  so  much  in  general,  as  that  it  doth  belong  to  the  He- 
ly  Ghost,  and  is  attributed  and  ascribed  to  it,  to  produce 
spirit,  and  bring  forth  such  a  thing  as  spirit  in  them  who 
appertain  to  God,  and  are  in  purpose,  and  shall  be  actual- 
ly, taken  into  communion  and  participation  with  him. 
For  if  we  refer  this  verse  to  the  foregoing  verses  of  the 
chapter,  we  find  our  Saviour  designedly  insists  upon  this 
argument  of  regeneration ;  and  doth  not  only  discover  to 
us  that  there  is  such  a  thing,  but  gives  some  account  »^ 
wherein  it  doth  consist,  or  what  kind  of  work  it  is ;  and  ■■ 
represents  the  indispensable  necessity  of  it  to  any  man's  "^ 
entrance  into  the  kingdom  of  God,  i.  e.  his  coming  into 
it,  or  seeing  and  having  any  part  in  it.  And  so  the  truth 
which  we  shall  recommend  to  you,  as  both  answering  the 
text  and  our  present  purpose,  is,  that  there  is  a  m  ork  to  be 
done  upon  whomsoever  shall  be  taken  into  the  kingdom 
of  God,  by  his  own  blessed  Spirit,  whereby  they  are  to  be 
created,  or  begotten,  spirit  of  that  Spirit.  We  have  three 
things  before  us  which  require  our  consideration,  in  or- 
der to  the  more  distinct  and  clear  notion  of  it. 

I.  The  effect  to  be  wrought,  or  produced  ;  which  is 
here  called  by  the  name  of  the  spirit. 

II.  The  author  or  productive  cause  of  this  great  effect; 
it  is  called  with  an  emphasis,  the  Spirit. 

III.  The  way  or  manner  of  production  ;  and  that  is  said 
to  be  by  begetting,  or  being  born ;  for  so  'tis  indifferently 
rendered. 

I.  We  are  to  consider  the  product  or  the  eflfect  wrought, 
and  that  is  defined  by  the  name  spirit ;  what  is  born  or 
begotten  of  the  Spirit,  is  spirit.  It  is  needful  to  give  some 
account  here  what  we  are  not  to  understand  by  it,  and 
then  what  we  are. 

1.  It  is  very  manifest  we  are  not  to  understand  by  it  the 
natural  spirit  of  a  man  ;  for  our  Saviour  is  not  speaking 
here  of  bringing  men  into  the  world,  but  bringing  them 
into  the  church :  he  is  not  speaking  of  such  a  sort  of  be- 
gettir>g  whereby  men  are  produced,  but  Christians.  Nor 
is  it  a  distinct  substance  from  that,  or  another  substance 
diverse  from  the  spirit  of  a  man ;  for  then  a  regenerate 
person  and  an  unrcgenerate,  the  same  person  in  his  unre- 
generate  and  in  his  regenerate  state,  would  substantially 
differ  from  himself;  and  that  you  may  easily  apprehend 
how  absurd  it  would  be.     But, 

2.  As  to  the  reason  of  the  name,  and  the  more  general 
import  of  it ;  by  spirit  we  are  to  understand  something 
spiritual,  and  which  is  of  a  spiritual  nature  ;  the  abstract 
being  put  for  the  concrete, which  is  a  very  ordinary  elegance 
in  the  Scripture  ;  as  well  as  it  is  many  times  in  a  contrary 
sense :  You  were  darkness,  but  now  ye  are  light  in  the 
Lord,  Eph.  v.  8.  The  name  is  no  more  intended  to  hold 
forth  to  us,  spirit, considered  under  a  merely  natural  notion, 
without  any  adjunct,  than  flesh  is  intended  to  signify 
without  any  adjunct,  and  only  in  a  merely  natural  sense. 
The  thing  which  in  general  is  intended  to  be  held  forth  to 
us  by  this  name,  is  that  frame  of  holiness,  which  is  in- 
wrought in  souls  by  the  Spirit  of  God  in  regeneration ; 
and  which  because  it  is  a  spiritual  production,  most  agree- 
able to  its  productive  cause,  is  therefore  called  here  by  the 
name  of  spirit.  It  is  something  which  is  many  times  in 
Scripture  held  forth  to  us  by  such  other  names  as  these: 
sometimes  'tis  called  simply  by  the  name  of  light ;  "  Now 
are  ye  light  in  the  Lord  ;"  as  if  this  product  were  nothing 
else  but  a  beam  of  vigorous  vital  light,  darted  down  from 
heaven  into  the  hearts  of  men.  Sometimes  it  is  called  by 
the  name  of  life;  that  is  used,  'tis  true,  as  an  expression 
of  a  larger  extent  than  for  the  internal  work  of  the  Spirit, 
but  it  comprehends  that  too;  "Ye  will  not  come  unto  me 
that  ye  might  have  life,"  John  v.  45.  Many  times  'tis  so 
used  as  that  the  circumstances  of  the  place  do  determine  it 
more  limitedly,  to  that  peculiar  sense.  'Tis  sometimes  ex- 
pressed by  the  seed  of  God,  an  incorruptible  seed  which  is 
put  into  the  souls  of  men,  1  Pet.  i.  23.  1  John  iii.  8,  9,  10. 
Sometimes  'tis  called  the  new  creature:  In  Christ  Jesus 
neither  circumcision  availeth  any  thing,  nor  uncircumci- 
sion,  but  a  new  creature,  Gal.  vi.  15.  If  any  man  is  in 
Christ  he  is  a  new  creature.  It  is  very  usual  to  speak  of 
the  effect,  and  the  operation  too,  by  which  that  effect  is 
wrought ;  the  former  under  the  name  of  creature,  the  lat- 
ter under  the  name  of  creation ;  as  here  it  is  spoken  of 
as  a  thing  begotten ;  and  the  causative  action,  under  the 


Serm.  I. 


IN  REFERENCE  TO  PARTICULAR  PERSONS. 


505 


name  of  begetting-.  It  is  sometimes  called  the  new  man  ; 
tlie  ima^e  ol  God ;  and  God's  avoi  kmansliip.  These  differ- 
ent I'onas  ut' expression,  and  if  there  are  any  more  which 
are  not  in  my  thoughts,  which  are  parallel  to  these,  are 
only  intended  lo  signily  one  and  the  same  thing  and  what 
is  here  signified  bj'  the  name  of  spirit. 

But  to  give  you  somewhat  a  more  particular  account  of 
this  thing,  this  being,  this  creature,  which  is  here  signified 
by  the  name  of  spirit.  Of  this  we  have  said  it  is  not  a  dis- 
tinct substance  from  the  spirit  of  a  man,  and  yet  we  must 
know  concerning  it  in  the 

1.  place,  That  'lis  a  distinct  thing ;  or  something,  though 
not  of  another  substance,  which  is  yet  superadded  to  the 
.spirit  of  a  man  :  and  which  the  spirit  of  a  man,  considered 
according  to  its  mere  naturals,  is  destitute  of;  and  which 
therefore  lies  without  the  whole  sphere  and  compass  of 
mere  nature,  or  any  of  the  improvements  thereof  It  is 
spokenof  in  the  Scripture  as  a  thing  put  on  :  Put  on  the  new 
man,  which  after  God  is  created  in  righteousness  and  true 
holmess.  Col.  iv.  10.  There  is  something  put  off,  and  laid 
away ;  the  old  man,  with  his  deeds.  This  shows  it  to  be  an 
adjunct,  or  a  thing  superadded  to  us  ;  which  is  not  only  out 
of  the  compass  of  our  natures,  but  is  no  more  to  be  con- 
ceived as  comprehended  in  that  state,  than  a  man's  clothes 
which  he  puts  on  are  comprehended  in  the  notion  of  his 
body.  And  in  that  it  is  called  a  new  thing,  as  the  new  crea- 
ture and  the  new  man  ;  it  shows  it  to  be  an  additional  thing. 

2.  Though  it  is  diverse  and  distinct  from  the  spirit  of  a 
man ;  yel  it  is  a  most  intimately  inherent  thing,  and  is  most 
closely  united,  wherever  it  comes  to  obtain  and  take  place. 
It  is  a  spirit  which  gets  into  a  man's  spirit,  a  spirit  put  into 
spirit.  That  )'ou  may  be  renewed  in  the  spirit  of  your 
minds,  Eph.  iv.  23.  Create  in  me  a  clean  heart,  renew  a 
right  spirit  within  me,  Ps.  li.  10.  It  is  the  Divine  Spiiit 
which  is  the  formal  renovating  principle  by  which  we  are 
renewed ;  and  our  former  natural  spirit  is  the  subject  of  it. 
And  'tis  a  thing  which  most  inwardly  seats  and  centres 
itself  in  a  man's  soul,  and  takes  possession  of  his  inmost 
soul,  which  is  called  the  spirit  of  the  mind  ;  and  which  we 
must  conceive  to  be  to  the  soul,  as  the  heart  is  to  the  body, 
so  very  inward  and  middle  a  part,  and  upon  the  account 
of  which  analogy  it  is  that  the  name  of  heart  is  so  often 
transferred  thither  to  signify  the  inward  part,  or  the  very 
innermost  of  the  inner  man.  There  it  is  that  the  spirit 
doth  most  intimatel}'  inhere  and  reside.  'Tis  not  a  thing 
which  lies  in  the  surface  of  a  man,  or  consists  in  outward 
forms,  or  empty  shows,  or  fruitless  talk ;  but  it  is  something 
which  is  got  into  a  man's  heart,  and  hath  insinuated  and 
conveyed  itself  there. 

3.  It  is  alterative  of  its  subject,  or  of  that  nature  to  which 
it  is  adjoined.  It  is  so  in  it,  as  to  make  a  very  great  altera- 
tion within,  and  to  work  a  change  where  it  comes;  as 
leaven,  to  which  this  very  thing  is  compared  by  our  Lord 
which  he  here  calls  spirit,  hath  in  it  that  fermentative  vir- 
tue, by  which  it  strangely  alters  the  lump  into  which  it  is 
put,  and  whereto  it  is  adjoined.  It  is  incredible,  according 
to  the  accounts  the  chemists  give,  how  ver}'  little  and  mi- 
nute a  portion  shall  quite  alter  and  transform  the  mass  into 
which  it  is  put,  so  as  to  make  it  quite  another  thing.  Such 
a  thing  is  this  begotten  spirit,  it  is  alterative  of  its  subject ; 
and  when  it  gets  within  a  man,  it  makes  him  quite  another 
thing  from  what  he  was.  If  any  man  be  in  Christ  he  is  a 
new  creature  ;  or  which  is  all  one,  there  is  a  new  creature 
in  him.  Sometimes  the  whole  man  is  spoken  of  as  the 
subject  of  this  production,  and  we  are  said  to  be  new  crea- 
tures, and  the  new  creation  is  spoken  of  as  being  in  us. 
It  only  carries  this  signification  with  it,  that  when  a  man 
is  said  to  be  begotten  or  regenerated,  it  is  only  said  to  be 
so  secundum  quid,  or  in  this  peculiar  respect ;  as  having 
such  a  thing  of  new  production  now  put  into  him.  It  is 
such  a  great  change  which  is  made,  as  that  all  things 
which  were  old,  are  said  to  be  done  away,  and  all  that  re- 
mains to  be  made  new,  2  Cor.  v.  17.  This  is  nothing  else 
but  the  same  Spirit  which  is  got  into  the  heart  of  a  man, 
and  makes  its  subject  new;  that  is,  to  become  a  new  heart 
and  a  right  spirit,  where  it  comes  to  obtain.  'Tis  not  so 
with  evety  thing  which  is  put  into  another,  or  whereof 
another  thing  is  contained ;  you  may  put  water  into  a  ba- 
sin, and  it  alters  it  nothing;  but  this  is  such  a  thing  which 
alters  that  which  it  is  put  into,  and  makes  it  quite  another 


thing;  like  putting  some  spirits  into  that  water  which 
changes  the  colour  and  quality  of  it. 

4.  'Tis  universally  diifu'ed  in  its  subject,  as  it  is  in  its 
nature  alterative  of  it.  'Tis  a  thing  universally  difiused 
through  the  whole  subject  wherein  it  comes;  whence  it  is 
that  the  operation  also  is  universal,  and  it  makes  a  thorough 
change.  They  are  very  comprehensive  expressions  which 
the  apostle  uses  concerning  holiness  or  sanctification, 
(1  Thess.  V.  23.)  where  he  prays  on  the  behalf  of  the 
Thessalonians,  that  God  would  sanctify  them  whollv,  or 
throughout,  that  is,  in  their  whole  spirit,  .soul,  and  body: 
he  distinguishes  these;  probably  meaning  by  the  former, 
the  soul  as  rational;  by  the  second,  the  soul  as  sensitive; 
and  by  the  third,  the  corporeal  body.  It  is  plain  this  same 
created,  begotten  spirit,  being  designed  to  repair  what  v.as 
impaired  by  sin,  must  take  place  and  .'^pread  itself  as  far  as 
sin  had  done.  That  had  vitiated  and  depraved  the  whole 
man,  and  is  therefore  called,  a  man;  the  old  man;  as 
having  extended  itself  to  all  the  powers,  and  faculties,  and 
all  the  parts  of  a  man  :  'tis  a  man  in  a  man.  This  spirit 
therefore  is  to  be  a  man  in  a  man  too,  and  must  spread 
into  all  the  same  powers  and  parts  which  the  former  had 
done,  and  make  a  new  man.  Though  it  is  true  indeed, 
that  the  intelligent  soul  of  man  can  only  be  foi  laily  the 
subject  of  this  change,  yet  sin  is  by  a  sort  of  panicipaiioo 
in  the  sensitive  soul,  and  in  the  external  senses  and  parts 
of  the  body;  and  so  must  grace  or  holiness  too.  'Tis 
strange  rhetoric  the  apo.sile  uses  in  that  collection  of  pas- 
sages which  we  find  in  Rom.  iii.  from  10,  onward,  out  of 
certain  places  of  the  Old  Testament.  The  apostle  designs 
to  represent  not  only  how  univensally  sin  had  spread  itself 
among  all  men,  but  how  it  had  spread  itself  through  the 
whole  of  every  man :  as  if  they  were  so  very  full  of  sin, 
and  so  under  the  possession  and  power  of  it,  that  they 
belched  it  out  of  their  throats,  and  through  their  lips; 
acted  it  with  their  hands;  and  made  haste  to  it  with  their 
feet :  Their  throat  is  an  open  sepulchre,  with  their  toirgiTes 
they  have  used  deceit,  the  poi-son  of  a.sps  is  under  their 
lips,  their  feet  are  swift  to  shed  blood,  tlestroction  and 
misery  are  in  their  ways.  They  do  nothing  but  work  mis- 
chief wherever  they  come.  Why,  according  to  this  same 
spreading  and  diffusion  of  sin,  which  is  here  called  flesh; 
so  must  be  that  of  the  spirit  loo,  enthroning  itself  in  the 
very  inwards  of  the  soul,  and  having  its  residence  there; 
whilst  thence  it  diffuses  its  energA^  and  vital  influence 
through  all  the  parts  and  powers  of  the  man,  and  leavens 
the  whole  lump.  Both  sin  and  holiness  are  represented 
to  us  upon  the  account  of  their  difiiisive  nature,  by  a  meta- 
phor of  the  same  kind ;  by  the  apostk,  1  Cor,  v.  6.  and  by 
our  Saviour,  Matt.  xiii.31. 

5.  He  must  understand  it  to  be  a  most  excellent  thing , 
of  a  very  high  and  great  excellence,  which  is  here  called 
spirit.  'Tis  a  most  pure  essence,  and  noble  production, 
agreeable  to  its  productive  cause.  How  vain  a  thing  is  all 
this  material  world,  if  you  abstract  and  sever  spirit  from  it ! 
What  a  sluggish  didl  himp  were  all  this  mass  of  earth, 
and  all  the  matter  of  the  world,  without  spirit.!  If  you 
could  imagine  such  a  distinct  thing  as  a  spirit  of  nature, 
nnd  we  know  there  are  operations  which  some  call  by  that 
name,  which  in  Scripture  are  simply  ascribed  to  this  same 
Spirit  who  is  here  spoken  of  under  the  name  of  the  Spirit, 
The  threat  Almighty  Spirit  of  God,  in  the  creation  of  the 
w^orld,  did  move  upon  the  waters;  and  in  the  continual 
susteniation,  direction,  and  government  of  the  creatures,  it 
hath  its  agency:  Thou  sendest  forth  thy  Spirit,  they  are 
created,  and  thou  renewest  the  face  of  the  earth,  Psal.  civ. 
30.  If  we  should  conceive  no  such  thing  as  spirit  to  in- 
fluence this  same  material  world,  what  a  heap  would  it 
soon  be!  As  a  house  would  in  time  become,  only  much 
sooner,  which  should  never  have  any  inhabitant,  or  any 
body  to  reside  there;  for  the  influence  of  an  inhabitant  is 
not  so  much  to  keep  the  house  up,  as  this  Almighty  Spirit 
is  to  keep  np  tlie  frame  of  nature,  and  continue  things  in 
the  course  and  order  wherein  they  naturally  were.  Upon 
this  account,  many  of  the  more  refined  philosophers  have 
made  it  very  much  their  business,  to  speak  debasingly  and 
diminishinglv  of  man,  and  to  represent  him  as  a  despicable 
thing;  that  is,  the  mere  body  or  matter  separate  from 
spirit:  which  plainly  carries  this  signification  with  it,  that 
4"ii"it  was,  in  their  account,  a  most  excellent  sort  and  kind 


506 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT 


Skrm.  I, 


of  being.  This  expression,  that  which  is  born  of  the  Spirit 
is  spirit,  holds  forth  this  production  to  be  such,  i.  e.  of  the 
noblest  kind.  When  the  prophet  would  speak  diminish- 
ingly  and  with  contempt  concerning  the  Egyptian  power, 
he  says,  Their  horses  are  flesh  and  not  spirit,  Isa.  xxxi.  3. 
They  have  no  spirit  in  thena;  an  expression  merely  de- 
signed to  set  forth  how  little  they  were  to  be  feared  or  re- 
garded, and  how  contemptible  they  were. 

6.  It  is  a  soul-rectifying  or  restoring  thing.  It  being  a 
thing  of  a  very  high  excellence,  must  needs  not  only  render 
the  spirit  of  a  man  into  which  it  is  put,  a  great  deal  more 
excellent  than  it  was;  but  it  was  withal  designed  to  restore 
it  to  its  pristine  excellence,  and  make  it  what  it  was,  or 
what  it  ought  to  be.  It  is  by  this  work  or  production  in 
the  spirits  of  men,  that  souls  are  said  to  be  restored :  Thou 
restorest  my  soul,  Psal.  xxiii.  3.  So  far  as  this  work  hath 
taken  place  in  me,  he  hath  brought  me  back  and  made  me 
to  return,  where  I  was  and  ought  to  have  been.  It  is 
therefore  the  very  rectitude  of  the  soul,  or  setting  it  right 
again  :  Create  a  right  spirit  within  me,  Psal.  li.  10. 

7.  It  is  a  divine  thing,  as  we  must  needs  understand  it. 
For  it  is  the  birth  and  production  of  the  Divine  Spirit,  and 
is  immediately  from  God;  and  it  is  his  very  image;  and 
the  new  man  which  after  God  is  created  in  righteousness 
and  true  holiness.  It  is  something  which  is  as  it  were 
copied  out  of  God  himself,  and  whereof  he  is  at  once 
both  the  immediate  efficient  and  exemplar.  And  upon 
this  account  it  is  called,  by  the  apostle,  the  divine  nature, 
3  Pet.  i.  4. 

8.  It  is  a  thing,  by  the  very  nature  of  it,  instincted  into 
a  dependance  upon  God ;  or  immediately  dependent  upon 
him  as  to  its  continual  subsistence.  There  is  a  natural 
dependance  which  is  common  to  all  creatures,  and  essen- 
tial to  them  as  creatures.  All  have  a  kmd  of  instinct 
drawn  from  the  continual  sustaining  them,  from  the  great 
Author  of  all,  but  this  is  a  creature  which  depends  know- 
ingly and  of  choice ;  and  so  as  to  own  and  avow  itself  to 
be  a  depending  creature:  I  live,  yet  r,ot  I,  but  Christ  lives 
in  me.  Gal.  ii.  20.  And  therefore  there  are  continual 
breathings  of  desire  after  God :  As  the  hart  panteth  after 
the  water  brooks,  so  panteth  my  soul  after  thee,  O  God, 
Psal.  xlii.  beg. 

9.  It  is  a  creature  which  not  only  depends  on  God 
voluntarily  and  of  choice,  but  aims  at  him  and  tends  to 
him  as  an  end,  and  carries  the  heart  and  soul  of  a  man  to 
do  so.  It  is  by  this  same  inwrought  Spirit  that  the  soul 
is  principally  rectified  and  set  right  towards  God,  so  as  to 
design  him  only,  and  to  do  all  for  him.  Hence  this  be- 
comes the  sense  of  such  a  one  :  "  I  desire  to  be  nothing, 
Lord,  but  for  thee.  My  whole  life  and  being  are  things  of 
no  value  with  me,  but  for  thy  sake.  I  care  not  whether  I 
live  or  die ;  whether  I  am  in  the  body  or  out  of  the  body, 
is  all  one  to  me ;  for  to  me  to  live  is  Christ ;  and  my  great 
desire  is,  that  Christ  may  be  magnified  in  my  body,  whether 
by  life  or  by  death,  Phil.  i.  20,  21.  And  I,  through  the 
law,  am  dead  to  the  law,  that  I  might  live  unto  God," 
Gal.  ii.  19.  As  socri  as  ever  he  becomes,  in  the  former 
sense,  dead,  delivered  from  the  law,  and  rescued  from 
imder  the  dominion  and  curse  of  it,  he  lives  unto  God. 
His  life  becomes  a  devoted  thing;  and  the  tenor  and 
stream  of  all  his  thoughts,  and  designs,  and  endeavours, 
is  altogether  and  wholly  to  him. 

10.  It  is  an  active,  powerful  thing;  or  a  creature  made 
for  action  and  contest.  It  is  a  Spirit  of  power,  2  Tim.  i.  7. 
That  which  is  born  of  God  overcomes  the  world,  1  John 
V.  4.  This  son  of  God,  this  product  and  begotten  spirit,  is 
born  of  God.  What !  Shall  not  this  son  of  God,  which  is 
begotten  of  him,  overcome  7  Nay,  in  whom  it  obtains,  they 
are  more  than  conquerors:  they  conquer  over  and  over; 
they  conquer  abundantly  and  with  the  greatest  advantage 
imaginable.  'Tis  to  them  who  overcome,  that  the  crown 
and  throne  are  designed  at  last.  They  shall  have  a  new 
name,  and  the  heavenly  hidden  manna,  and  sit  down  with 
Christ  upon  his  throne,  as  he  overcame,  and  is  set  down 
upon  the  Father's  throne.  Rev.  ii.  3. 

Lastly.  'Tis  an  immortal  thing,  and  which  never  dies. 
Spirit  is  a  thing  which  essentially  carries  life  in  it,  and 
therefore  can  never  cease  to  live.  'Tis  an  incorruptible 
seed,  and  the  seed  of  God  put  into  the  soul.  He  who  is 
born  of  Grod  doth  not  commit  sin ;  for  his  seed  remains  in 


him,  1  John  iii.  9.  His  seed,  of  whom  he  is  born.  Can 
that  be  a  mortal  thing  1  It  is  observable,  therefore,  how 
the  apostle  argues  concerning  those,  whom  he  .supposes  to 
have  been  ihe  subjects  of  this  mighty  and  blessed  opera- 
tion of  the  Spirit  of  God.  If  by  the  spirit  ye  mortify  the 
deeds  of  the  body,  ye  shall  live;  for  as  many  as  are  led 
by  the  Spirit,  are  the  sons  of  God,  Rom.  viii.  13,  14.  He 
takes  it  for  granted  they  are  the  begotten  sons  of  God,  by 
the  Spirit.  And  'tis  as  if  he  had  said ;  What,  do  you 
think  the  sons  of  God  shall  not  live?  hath  he  begotten 
any  mortal  sons,  or  such  as  can  corrupt  and  die  1  So  those 
words  are  commonly,  and  very  probably,  understood  to 
signify.  Rev.  xx.  6.  Blessed  and  holy  is  he  who  hath  part 
in  the  first  resurrection;  over  him  the  second  death  shall 
have  no  power.  I  will  not  assert  that  to  be  the  sense,  but 
it  is  not  improbable  to  be  so.  They  who  are  regenerate, 
and  have  got  this  Spirit  of  life  into  them  ;  ihey  have  got 
that  in  them  which  will  spring  up  into  life  everlasting: 
having  their  fruit  unto  holiness,  their  end  is  eternal  life. 
As  our  Saviour  speaks,  John  iv.  and  the  apostle  Paul, 
Rom.  vi. 

You  have  by  these  hints  some  account,  what  kind  ol 
thing  this  same  begotten  Spirit  is,  when  'tis  said,  that 
which  is  born  of  the  Spirit  is  spirit.  The  time  doth  not 
allow,  at  present,  to  go  further  in  the  explicatory  part :  I 
would  hint  this  one  thing  by  way  of  use  before  we  depart, 
that  is,  that  we  take  heed  of  diminishing,  or  thinking 
slightly  and  meanly  of  this  mighty  distinguishing  work  of 
the  Spirit  of  God.  They  are  awful  Avords,  if  duly  con- 
sidered. That  which  is  born  of  the  Spirit  is  spirit.  There 
is  nothing  to  be  found  in  all  this  world,  worthy  the  name 
of  spirit,  but  that  which  is  born  immediately  of  the  Spirit, 
and  is  its  offspring.  Our  Saviour  speaks  in  the  other  part 
of  the  verse  manifestly  in  a  way  of  contempt ;  That  which 
is  born  of  the  flesh  is  flesh :  that  is  but  flesh  which  is 
born  of  flesh  !  That  is,  men  considered  in  their  mere 
naturals  only,  or  in  this  present  corrupted  state  of  nature. 
We  must  understand  the  whole  being  of  man  to  be  the 
corrupted  subject;  and  so  to  be  altogether  comprehended 
under  the  name  of  flesh  ;  his  very  soul  and  natural  .spirit 
itself  in  opposition  to  Spirit,  in  the  other  part  of  the  ver.se, 
as  the  antithesis  plainly  shows.  Let  a  man  be  of  never  so 
refined  intellectuals,  or  great  accomplishments ;  let  him 
be  never  so  much  a  man,  and  humanity  cultivated  to  the 
highest  pitch  and  degree;  without  this  same  additional 
superadded  Spirit,  he  is  nothing  else  but  a  lump  of  flesh. 
If  this  thought  did  sink  into  the  hearts  of  men,  what  despi- 
cable and  self-loathing  thoughts  would  they  have  of  them- 
selves, while  as  yet  they  can  find  nothing  of  this  begotten 
increated  Spirit  in  them;  while  that  Spirit  is  not  yet  come 
into  me  by  which  I  live  to  God,  and  my  soul  is  turned  to 
him,  and  set  on  him,  framed  for  him,  and  made  active  to- 
wards him,  and  on  his  behalf;  all  this  while  I  am  as  if  I 
were  a  body  and  no  more,  or  a  mere  breathless  carcass. 
For  plain  it  is  that  to  all  the  actions  and  comforts  of  the 
divine  life,  a  man  in  his  mere  naturals,  is  as  to  these  things, 
as  the  carcass  is  to  the  actions  of  a  man  ;  that  is,  a  carcass 
can  as  well  read,  and  discourse,  and  travel,  and  trade,  as 
a  man  in  whom  this  Spirit  is  not,  can  love  God,  take 
pleasure  in  him,  act  in  pure  devotedness  to  him,  design 
him  as  a  portion,  and  have  respect  to  him  as  such.  So 
that  now  if  men  did  but  allow  themselves  the  liberty  of  re 
flection,  it  could  not  be  but  sometime  or  other  this  would 
be  their  communion  with  themselves :  "  Either  I  have 
this  new  superadded  Spirit,  or  I  have  not ;  if  I  have,  sure 
such  a  thing  as  I  have  heard  it  is,  would  make  some  work 
in  my  soul,  and  show  itself;  it  could  not  be  latent  there; 
I  should  find  some  changes  and  transformation  wrought  in 
me.  And  if  I  have  not,  then  where  am  II  In  how  dis- 
mal and  forlorn  a  state!  It  is  for  me  to  go  and  dwell 
among  graves,  for  I  am  as  a  carcass,  but  a  piece  of  spirit- 
less flesh,  or  breathless  lump."  Oh  that  right  thoughts  of 
our  case  upon  this  account,  might  once  obtain,  and  take 
place.  If  this  Spirit  is  not  in  us,  then  we  are  dead  crea- 
tures: if  we  have  any  thing  of  life  in  us,  'tis  because  the 
Spirit  of  the  living  God  hath  infused  and  increated  it.  'Tis 
of  no  small  concernment  if  this  latter  is  our  case,  to  observe 
and  view  the  Spirit  of  God  aright.  And  if  the  former  is 
our  case,  to  see  to  it,  and  deal  truly  with  our  own  souls, 
while  any  natural  breath  remains,  in  order  to  the  regaming 


Serm.  II. 


IN  REFERENCE  TO  PARTICULAR  PERSONS. 


507 


that  spiritual  life,  by  which  we  may  be  capable  of  breath- 
ing spiritually.  IMelhiriks  one  should  have  a  restless  mind 
afier  it :  Oh  I  have  no  Spirit  within  me ;  nothing  that 
moves  towards  God;  no  sense  of  him,  or  breathings  after 
him.  O  that  I  were  more  acquainted  with  it.  'Tis 
strange  that  there  should  be  life,  and  no  such  motion  ;  and 
impossible  there  should  be  this  begotten  spirit,  and  we 
ebould  find  no  change  within. 


SERMON  II.* 

We  have  proposed  in  order  to  the  explication  of  the 
text,  these  three  things  :  1.  To  consider  the  product  here 
spoken  of,  under  the  name  of  the  Spirit.  2.  The  produc- 
tive cause,  or  the  Divine  parent,  to  which  this  birth  owes 
itself;  The  Spirit.  3.  The  kind  of  the  production  expressed 
here  by  being  bo;  n,  or  begotten.  We  have  already  spoken 
to  the  first  of  those,  and  proceed  now  to  the 

II.  The  productive  cause,  which  is  here  styled,  in  an 
emphatical  sense,  the  Spirit.  This  name  being  spoken  of 
the  Spirit,  is  commonl}^  observed  and  known  to  be  taken 
two  ways,  either  essentially,  or  personally :  essentially, 
so  it  signifies  the  nature  of  God,  the  pure  perfect  spiri- 
tualil}'  of  that  blessed  Spirit ;  so  it  is  said,  John  iv.  24. 
God  is  a  Spirit.  But  most  frequently  'tis  taken  in  the 
other  sense,  personally  ;  i.  e.  to  signify  the  person  known 
by  that  name;  the  third  in  the  Godhead,  who  by  eternal 
spiration  proceeds  from  the  Father  and  Son.  That  which 
I  at  present  design  is  to  speak  of  this  blessed  Spirit,  the 
parent  of  this  great  production,  as  such:  and  therefore 
shall  not  so  much  discourse  to  you  concerning  the  Spirit 
absolutely  considered  ;  as  in  this  relation,  or  as  the  auihor 
of  this  work  wrought  in  the  spirits  of  men.  What  we  are 
to  conceive  of  it,  as  it  is  a  subsistence  in  the  Godhead:  or 
what  its  agency  and  operations  maybe,  between  the  Father 
and  Son ;  or  what  the  kind  and  nature  of  that  eternal 
Spirit  is,  and  by  what  way  it  collectively  proceeds  from 
both,  we  are  left  very  much  in  the  dark,  as  being  things  of 
less  concernment  to  us.  But  wliat  is  of  more  importance 
to  us,  we  find  more  clearly  and  expressly  spoken  of,  i.  e. 
how  we  are  to  consider  it  in  relation  to  the  creation.  And 
so  we  are  taught  most  evidently  to  look  upon  it  as  the  great 
author  of  all  those  influences  and  operations,  which  are 
properly  attributable  to  God,  or  any  where  have  place 
throughout  the  whole  creation  ;  whether  we  speak  of  the 
old  creation  or  the  new;  and  both  within  the  sphere  of 
nature  and  grace. 

Within  the  sphere  of  nature  it  must  be  acknowledgoii 
the  author  of  universal  nature,  howsoever  diversified,  and 
in  whatsoever  creatures,  and  must  be  conceived  to  have 
influenced,  and  still  to  influence,  all  the  creatures,  both  in 
the  works  of  creation  and  Providence.  Both  these  are 
manifestly  attributed  to  the  Spirit  of  God  in  Scripture.  It 
was  said  in  the  creation  to  be  upon  the  waters,  (Gen.  L  2.) 
to  be  every  where  infusing  its  vital  influence,  through  the 
chaos  which  was  then  to  be  formed  and  digested,  and  put 
into  order.  By  it  the  world  is  as  it  were  new-created  every 
da}';  Thou  sendest  forth  thy  Spirit,  and  they  are  created  ; 
and  renewest  the  face  of  the  earth,  Psal.  civ.  30.  And  by 
his  Spirit  the  Lord  doth  garnish  the  heaven,  as  well  as  re- 
new the  face  of  the  earth.  Job  xxvi.  13.  So  that  we  don't 
need  toseekafter  another  distinct  spirit  of  nature,  much  less 
an  irrational  and  unintelligent  one,  as  some  fancy  ;  3'ea, 
pagan  light  hath  gone  so  far  in  some,  as  to  understand  it 
to  be  a  mind  and  intelligent  spirit  which  doth  every 
where  diflTuse  formative  and  governing  influence,  through 
this  great  creation.  And  being  by  itsnature  immense,  it 
is  every  where  at  hand  to  answer  every  such  purpose  which 
the  exigence  of  the  case,  in  order  to  the  creature's  renewing, 
doth  require.  But  our  greater  and  more  tlirect  concern  is 
to  consider  it  as  the  author  of  all  operations,  within  the 
sphere  of  grace,  and  the  new  creation.  This  is  it  which 
the  text  doth  manifestly  intend,  i.  e.  to  be  the  operator  in 
that  great  work  by  which  men  are  to  be  new  formed,  for 
that  new  and  other  kingdom,  which  God  is  raising  up  to 

»Pfeacli-(J  I)o''fiv!!).,'r5t)i.  1677,  it  Cordwaiiier's-Hall. 


himself  in  this  world,  out  of  the  ruins  of  that  kingdom  of 
nature,  which  he  hath,  and  still  holds  over  all.  And  we 
must  understand  it  to  be  with  great  propension,  and  the 
highest  pleasure,  that  this  blessed  Spirit  haih  undertaken 
and  doth  perfoim  this  so  important  work  ;  If  we  coL.-iUer 
it  under  the  name  and  style  of  the  Spirit  of  grace,  as  it  is 
called  Heb.  x.  29.  It  takes  itself  to  be  despited  when  the 
truth  is  not  received,  or  when  it  is  rejected,  and  men  revolt 
from  it ;  which  is  the  great  instrument  by  which  this  work 
of  the  Holy  Ghost  is  to  be  efl^ected  and  wrought  upon  the 
spirits  of  men.  As  you  know  there  can  be  done  to  none 
a  greater  despite  than  to  cross  them  in  a  design  upon 
which  they  are  intent,  and  unto  which  they  are  carried  by 
a  strong  propension  and  inclination  of  mind.  Here  lies  the 
emphasis  and  high  pitch  of  aggravation,  and  the  malignity 
of  this  wickedness,  that  the  Spirit  of  all  goodness,  and  be- 
nignity, and  love,  and  sweetness,  is  despited  by  them  ;  they 
can  find  nothing  else  to  turn  the  spite  upon,  but  the  Spirit 
of  grace.  Consider  it  under  this  character,  and  we  must 
understand  this  work  to  be  undertaken  by  it  with  the 
greatest  propension,  and  performed  with  the  higher 
pleasure.  Looking  down  upon  this  forlorn  woild,  and  ht-- 
holding  all  things  waste  and  ruin  ;  nature  in  the  best 
master-piece  of  the  creation,  grown  degenerous,  depraved, 
a  poi-sonous  and  horrid  thing;  why,  pity  and  compa.«sion 
has  been  stirred  up  to  the  world,  and  that  immense  Spirit 
hath  gone  forth  full  of  love  and  goodness;  full  of  vital  in- 
fluence, being  designed  to  the  office  of  doing  a  blessed 
work,  here  and  there,  wherever  it  finds  its  work  to  lie  :  and 
that  the  new  creation  might  be  made  to  spring  up  out  of 
the  wastes  and  desolations  of  the  old.  As  a  spirit  of  grace 
we  must  understand  it  very  intent  upon  this  work,  and 
highly  pleased  with  it. 

And  as  a  spirit  of  power,  we  must  suppose  it  to  go  on 
in  this  work  with  efiicacy,  and  to  crown  it  with  most  cci- 
lain  and  glorious  success.  It  will  not  be  baflled  out  of  its 
work,  or  suffer  itself  to  be  put  beside  its  ofhce,  unto  which 
it  hath  been  designed  and  appointed,  for  .so  happy  a  pur- 
pose. And  wherever  it  is  that  we  find  the  slate  of  souls 
bettered,  and  any  thing  done  to  form  and  prepare  meet  sub- 
jects fi)r  God's  kingdom,  we  are  most  manifestly  taught 
to  ascribe  all  such  work  to  this  blessed  Spirit.  'Tis  his 
appropriate  oflice  to  refine  the  spirits  of  men  to  that  pitch, 
as  that  they  may  be  capable  of  their  omti  name  again ;  that 
is,  to  be  called  spirit,  when  the  whole  man  before  is  called 
flesh,  till  this  divine  work  pass  upon  it. 

This  will  be  evident  by  considering  the  several  part  of 
this  work;  and  you  can  instance  in  none  whereunto  the 
Spirit  of  God  is  not  entitled.  Is  holy  light  and  knowledge 
a  part  1  This  Spirit  is,  upon  that  account,  called  the  Spirit 
of  knowledge,  Isa.  xi.  2.  The  Spirit  of  wisdom  and  reve- 
lation, Eph.  i.  17.  This  is  implied  in  the  following  words  ; 
The  eyes  of  your  understanding  being  enlightened,  that 
j^ou  may  know  the  hope  of  3'our  calling.  Is.  a?ain,  faith  a 
part  of  this  work  ■?  as  certainly  it  is  ;  for  they  who  believe 
are  said  to  be  born  not  of  flesh  nor  of  blood,  or  the  will  cf 
man,  but  of  God,  John  i.  13.  Why  in  reference  hereto,  it 
is  styled,  the  Spirit  of  faith,  2  Cor.  iv.  13.  We  having  the 
.same  spirit  of  faith  ;  i.  e.  the  same  with  David  who  is 
quoted  there;  we  believe  and  therefore  speak.  It  is  plainly' 
signified  to  us,  that  this  same  Spirit  is  alwaj's  employed  as  a 
Spirit  offaith,  and  works  unifonnly  from  age  to  age :  so  that 
just  as  it  wrouglit  in  David  at  so  many  hundre<l  years'  dis- 
tance, so  it  wrought  in  Paul.  Is,  again,  love  a  part  of  this 
work  in  the  souls  of  men?  It  is  styled  in  the  Scripture  the 
Spiritoflove.  2Tim.  i.7.  Hehaih  given  us  the  Spirit  oflove. 
That  pure  and  holy  love  by  which  the  soul  unites  with 
God,  bect)mes  devoted  to  him,  enjoys  solace,  and  satisfies 
itself  in  him.  And  again,  is  hope  a  part  of  itl  Why  'tis 
attributed  to  this  same  Spirit ;  Christians  do  abound  in 
hope  through  the  power  of  the  Holy  Gho.st,  Rom.  xv.  13. 
Again,  is  joy  a  part  and  principle  in  this  new  creation  1 
That  is  called  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost,  Rom.  xiv.  17.  Is 
meekness  a  part  1  This  same  Spirit  upon  that  account  is 
called,  the  Spirit  of  meekness,  Gal.  vi.  1.  If  that  is  under- 
stood to  signify  the  habit  of  meekness  in  the  soul  of  a 
Christian  ;  yet  that  connotes  a  reference  to  this  Spirit  as 
the  auihor  of  that  gracious  frame  and  disposition,  and  the 
name  itself  .might  congruously  enough  be  understood  of 


508 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT 


Serm.  II. 


the  blessed  Spirit  itself,  as  such  a  work  is  under  the  power 
and  dominion  of  that  Spirit,  who  is  herein  the  Spirit  of 
meekness  in  those  in  whom  it  is  wiought.  Is  the  fear  of 
the  Lord  a  part "?  It  is  called  the  Spirit  of  the  fear  of  the 
Lord,  which  rests  upon  him  who  is  the  rod  out  of  the  stem 
of  Jesse,  and  a  branch  growing  out  of  his  roots,  Isa.  xi.  1. 
And  it  is  the  same  Spirit,  and  under  the  same  characters, 
which  is  given  lo  all  who  are  united  to  him  ;  and  anointed 
with  tlie  same  Spirit.  If  you  would  have  sundry  such 
particulars  as  have  been  mentioned  together,  you  have  an 
enumeration  somewhat  distinct.  Gal.  v.  22.  The  fruit  of  the 
Spirit  is  love,  joy,  peace,  long-suffering,  gentleness,  good- 
ness, faith,  meekness,  temperance.  Would  you  take  what 
is  more  summary  and  comprehensive,  and  contains  all 
such  particulars  together  "?  Holiness  is  of  such  a  compre- 
hensive nature :  audit  is  called  the  spirit  of  holiness,  Rom. 
i.  4.  And  the  fruit  of  the  Spirit  is  in  all  goodness  and 
righteousness  and  truth :  thai  universal  rectitude  which 
ever  comes  to  have  place  in  the  spirits  of  any.  You  have 
the  e(juivalent  of  it  in  another  expression  ;  it  is  called  the 
spirit  of  a  sound  mind,  2  Tim.  i.  7.  Which  signifies  an 
entire  good  habit  of  soul  in  all  kinds  and  respects ;  or 
that  renovation  of  soul  by  which  a  man  becomes  a  new 
man.  So  we  are  renewed  in  the  spirit  of  the  mind,  put- 
ting off  the  old  man  and  putting  on  the  new,  Eph.  iv.  23,  24. 
But  if  you  go  to  "he  transcendental  attributes,  as  I  may 
call  them,  of  this  new  creature,  you  have  them  still  referred 
to  this  spirit.  Life  is  such  a  one  ;  for  that  is  capable  of 
being  spoken  of  every  gracious  principle  ;  'tis  lively  faith, 
and  lively  hope,  &c.  Why,  this  is  the  spirit  of  life,  which 
gives  life,  2  Cor.  iii.  6.  Power  is  such  another ;  for  that 
is  also  capable  of  being  spoken  of  every  grace,  it  may  be 
more  or  less  powerful.  There  is  the  power  of  faith,  the 
strength  of  love  and  hope,  &c.  And  it  is  called  the  spirit  of 
power,  in  reference  hereunto,  2  Tim.  i.  7.  And  elsewhere, 
the  spirit  of  might,  Isa.  xi.  2.  If  we  go  to  what  is  prepa- 
ratory lo  this  work,  or  the  convictions  which  must  pass 
upon  the  spirits  of  men  in  order  to  it,  this  blessed  Spirit  is 
entitled  to  that  as  the  great  author  of  them,  John  xvi. 
When  the  Spirit  the  Comforter  is  come,  he  will  convince 
the  world  of  sin,  and  righteousness,  and  judgment. 
When  the  Comforter  is  come :  the  word  is  indifferently 
capable  of  being  rendered  the  advocate ;  or  the  great 
pleader,  and  he  who  undertakes  to  manage  the  cause  of 
Christ  and  Christianity  against  the  world.  He,  when  he 
is  come,  will  make  work  in  the  spirits  and  consciences  of 
men  ;  he  will  make  the  world  understand  what  they  are 
so  unapt  to  understand,  their  own  sin,  my  righteousness, 
and  the  power  of  that  judgment  and  government,  which 
is  to  be  set  up,  in  order  to  the  saving  whoever  shall  be 
saved  ;  or  this  very  kingdom,  which  is  spoken  of  in  the 
preceding  verse.  If  we  respect  what  is  consequential, 
and  following  upon  this  work ;  the  consolations  of  renewed 
souls  ;  they  are  called,  the  consolations  of  the  Holy  Ghost; 
And  the  churches  walking  in  the  comforts  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  were  edified,  Acts  ix.  31.  All  their  pre-assurances 
of  the  possessing  of  the  eternal  inheritance,  are  owing  to 
the  Spirit,  as  the  earnest  of  that  inheritance,  Eph.  i.  14. 
2  Cor.  V.  5.  and  the  Spiilt  of  adoption,  Rom.  viii.  15.  If 
we  consider  the  pregustations  and  foretastes  of  heaven  and 
glory,  which  souls  now  enjoy  sometimes  in  their  way , 
these  are  called  the  first-fruits  of  the  Spirit,  Rom.  viii.  23. 
If  we  respect  the  exercises  of  the  new  creature,  when  once 
there  is  an  infused  principle  ;  or  any  thing  of  an  habitual 
frame  of  a  holy  mind,  comes  to  obtain  in  us ;  these  are 
still  constantly  attributed  to  the  Spirit.  As  the  mortifying 
of  sin  :  If  ye  through  the  Spirit  mortify  the  deeds  of  the 
body,  ye  shall  live,  Rom.  viii.  13.  Leading  a  holy  life,  or 
walking  in  a  way  of  course  of  holiness,  is  called  walking 
in  the  Spirit,  and  being  led  by  the  Spirit,  Gal.  v.  16. 
The  life  of  Christians  is  hereupon  a  sowing  to  the 
Spirit,  whence  of  the  Spirit  they  receive,  at  length,  life  ever- 
lasting, in  Gal.  vi.  8.  Right  worship  is  attributed  to  the 
Spirit.  Prayer,  which  is  worthy  of  the  name,  is  praying 
in  the  Holy  Ghost,  Jude  20.  and  worship  in  general,  if 
it  is  right,  is  worshipping  in  Spirit  and  truth,  John  iv.  24. 
which  may  be  meant,  under  dominion  of  God's  own 
Spirit.  But  more  expressly,  Phil.  iii.  3.  We  are  the  cir- 
cumcision who  worship  God  in  the  Spirit.  So  that  look 
upon  what  you  will  relating  to  th^  new  creature,  and  every 


thing  of  it  is  attributed  to  the  Spirit,  as  the  productive 
cause.  Consider  its  parts,  its  sum,  its  exercises,  its  pro- 
perties ;  consider  what  is  preparatory  to  it,  or  consequently 
upon  it;  consider  what  it  doth,  and  what  it  enjoys;  and 
all  is  resolved  into  this  great  principle,  the  Spirit. 

III.  We  are  next  to  consider  the  kind  of  the  produc- 
tion, which  is  signified  by  a  peculiar  expression,  begetting: 
for  so  'tis  indifferently  capable  of  being  rendered,  either 
born  or  begotten.  This  is  a  distinguishing  sort  of  produc- 
tion: there  are  many  ways  of  production,  to  which  the 
name  of  begetting  will  not  square.  Our  further  work  must 
therefore  be  to  show  you  the  peculiar  import  of  this  ex- 
pression, and  what  is  designed  to  be  signified  by  it.  It 
plainly  holds  forth  to  us  such  things  as  these : 

1.  It  imports  the  productions  to  be  of  a  living  thing. 
Begetting  is  a  natural,  vital  production.  All  productions 
are  not  so  :  but  there  is  nothing  properly  said  to  be  begotten, 
but  that  which  lives.  Begetting,  'tis  true,  goes  as  low  as 
to  the  lowest  kind  of  life  ;  as  to  vegetives ;  that  is  not  only 
altrix,  and  uucfrix,  but  frocreatrix,  which  propagates  its 
kind ;  but  it  never  goes  lower,  and  is  never  carried  to 
things  inanimate.  They  are  not  said  to  beget,  or  be  be- 
gotten, which  are  in  their  kind  dead  things  ;  it  reaches  not 
the  meaner  sort  of  natural  productions  ;  much  less  to 
artificial  ones.  A  man  is  not  said  to  beget  a  house,  Avhen 
he  builds  it ;  or  any  thing  else  which  is  made  by  the  art  of 
man.  This  production,  inasmuch  as  it  is  signified  by  the 
name  of  begetting,  signifies  it  to  be  a  living  thing.  And 
therefore  we  are  to  know,  that  whatsoever  it  is  of  religion 
which  any  one  pretends  to,  if  it  is  a  dead  religion,  and 
without  life,  it  is  an  artificial  religion  ;  and  you  know  any 
thing  which  belongs  to  us,  which  doth  not  partake  of  life 
with  us,  and  from  us  ;  we  can  without  any  inconvenience, 
or  trouble,  shake  it  artificially,  as  we  please,  this  way,  or 
that.  Many  a  man's  religion  is  a  cloak  to  him,  which  is 
no  living  thing;  and  a  man  may  alter  and  change  the 
fashion  of  it ;  and  put  it  off,  and  on,  and  never  put  him- 
self to  any  pain.  But  if  a  man's  religion  is  a  living  thing, 
and  is  animated  by  a  life,  as  it  were  common  to  him  and 
it ;  why,  that  must  not  admit  of  alterations.  We  cannot 
shape  our  limbs  as  we  please,  though  we  may  our  clothes, 
for  they  are  not  enlivened  by  that  Spirit  of  life,  which  runs 
through  the  whole  body.  They  who  have  a  religion  made 
up  of  dead  formalities  and  duties  in  which  there  is  no  life, 
no  soul;  cannot  be  said  to  be  born  of  the  Spirit,  and  'tis  no 
production  of  his. 

2.  It  imports  the  production  of  a  thing  of  like  nature  to 
its  productive  cause.  There  is  a  likeness  of  nature  be- 
tween the  cause  and  the  efl^ect,  and  from  such  a  creature 
begetting  a  creature  of  a  like  nature  doth  proceed.  Upon 
this  account,  though  a  parent  is  truly  said  by  way  of  be- 
getting, to  produce  a  child  :  yet  he  doth  not  by  way  of  be- 
getting make  any  other  effect,  which  is  not  of  that  kind ; 
as  a  house,  a  picture,  or  suit  of  clothes,  &c.  It  is  very  true 
mdeed,  we  are  not  to  strain  this  matter  so  far  as  if  this 
were  a  univocal  production  which  is  here  intended  ;  which 
begetting  doth  not  properly  signify;  Yet  neither  is  it  equi- 
vocal ;  when  the  thing  produced  is  of  quite  a  diverse  na- 
ture, from  the  productive  cause  ;  but  there  is  an  analogy 
and  proportion  between  the  one  and  the  other.  Theie  is 
something  in  that  which  is  begotten,  which  doth  in  nature 
correspond  and  answer  to  that  which  doth  beget,  even 
wherein  the  one  is  begotten  and  the  other  begets.  And 
what  doth  that  speak  7  The  production  here  spoken  of,  is 
not  the  production  of  a  man,  as  a  man;  but  of  a  saint,  as 
a  saint;  or  of  a  Christian,  as  such;  and  therein  is  an 
agreement,  or  correspondency.  What  is  it  which  makes  a 
saint  1  That  is  holiness.  Why  we  find  this  both  in  the 
cause,  and  in  the  effect.  The  apo.stle  presses  the  exhorta- 
tion ;  Be  ye  holy,  as  I  am  holy,  1  Pet.  i.  16.  'Tis  a  vain 
and  ahsurd  thing  to  call  God  Father,  and  pretend  to  be 
begotten  of  him,  if  you  are  not  holy  as  he  is  holy,  and 
nothing  of  his  holiness  appears  in  you.  . 

3.  In  the  ver}^  business  itself  of  regeneration,  passive- 
ness  in  the  subject  is  manifestly  imported ;  for  who  can 
contribute  to  his  own  being  born  ;  that  is,  as  to  the  thing 
itself  of  being  begotten.  We  are  here  indeed  to  consider 
a  production  not  simpliciter,  but  scamdum  quid ;  that  is, 
a  creature  in  a  creature  ;  or  something  begotten  in  that 
which  was  begotten  before.     There  is  a  new  work  to  be 


Serm.  II. 


IN  REFERENCE  TO  PARTICULAR  PERSONS. 


509 


.lone  where  there  was  a  pre-existing  subject ;  and  that  a 
rational  and  inielligent  one.  There  is  much  ilierel'ore  pro- 
per to  be  done,  and  necessary  to  be  done,  in  order  to  this 
work,  but  there  is  nothing  to  be  done  in  it,  but  only  to  be 
borne;  we  are  therein  truly  passive.  Faith  comes  by 
hearing;  that  is  a  previous  thing,  and  that  we  may  do, 
and  can  do.  We  can  suppose  nothing  more  subv^ersive  of 
religion,  than  the  contrarj' ;  for  'tis  all  one  to  say,  The 
Gospel  is  not  at  all  necessary  to  regeneration,  which  is 
the  end ;  as  to  say  that  the  hearing  of  it,  and  understand- 
ing and  considering  of  it,  is  not  necessary.  The  Gospel 
i  ^  is  neither  necessary,  nor  signilicant,  nor  useful  to  the  pur- 
P  pose  of  conversion  and  regeneration,  otherwise  than  as 
the  minds  and  understandings  come  to  be  employed  about 
it ;  and  this  they  do  as  men ;  and  this  way  the  Spirit,  who 
is  as  the  wind,  which  bloweth  where  it  listeth,  doth,  as  the 
season  of  grace  is  arbitrarily  and  freely  chosen,  come  in 
with  that  influence,  by  which  men  are  made  saints,  and 
then  capable  of  a.cting  as  such. 

4.  The  impossibility  of  resisting,  so  as  to  frustrate  or 
prevent  it.  Being  born  signifies  such  a  way  of  production 
as  whereto  we  cannot  oppose  ourselves,  or  any  power 
which  should  prevent,  or  promote  it.  Such  a  resistance 
as  should  hinder  God's  designed  work,  or  the  good  plea- 
sure of  his  will,  in  this  case,  don't  take  place.  This  is  in- 
timated in  this  form  of  speech.  For  this  is  a  production, 
not  of  a  separate  single  substance,  by  itself;  but  a  crea- 
ture in  a  creature.  'Tis  true  indeed  that  the  spirit  of  a 
man,  as  he  was  constituted,  before  any  such  work  as  this 
came  to  obtain,  was  apt  enough  to  resist ;  but  all  that  apti- 
tude to  resistance  shall  be  overcome,  whensoever  that  in- 
fluence is  put  forth,  by  which  this  work  is  done. 

And  here  there  needs  a  caution  too,  as  well  as  in  refer- 
ence to  the  former  head.  Some  may  be  apt  to  apprehend, 
if  this  work  is  wrought  and  done,  by  such  an  irresistible 
power,  to  which  no  opposition  can  be  made,  what  need  we 
trouble  ourselves;  when  God  will  do  such  a  work,  he  will 
do  it ;  it  will  never  he  in  our  power  to  hinder  it,  and  we 
need  never  be  afraid  that  we  shall.  To  this  it  may  be 
said,  and  it  ought  to  be  seriously  considered  ;  that  though 
there  is  no  possibility  of  such  resistance  to  that  influence 
by  which  this  work  is  done,  wheresoever  it  is  done,  which 
could  have  prevented  the  doing  of  it ;  yet  there  are  many 
previous  workings,  in  order  to  it,  wherein  the  Spirit  of 
God  is  frequently  resisted  ;  that  is,  the  workings  and  ope- 
rations of  common  grace,  which  lead  and  tend  to  this  spe- 
cial work  of  grace.  And  here  lies  the  great  danger,  when 
in  these  common  precursory  works  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 
which  have  a  tendency  in  them  to  this  work,  and  by  which 
it  is  gradually  moving  on,  they  may  resist  and  oppose 
themselves,  to  a  total,  utter,  eternal  miscarriage.  The  Spirit 
of  God,  in  this  work,  can  never  be  resisted ;  but  so  as  that 
it  will  certainly  overcome  and  eSect  its  work.  But  we 
must  know  that  he  is  a  free  Agent;  and  there  is  reason  to 
apprehend  there  is  the  same  reason  in  choosing  the  degree 
of  operation,  as  there  is -of  the  subject.  If  doth  not  only 
work  where  it  listeth,  but  to  what  degree  it  listeth  of 
power  and  eflicacy;  and  when  it  is  working  but  at  the 
common  rate,  then  it  sufl^ers  itself  many  times  to  be  over- 
come, and  yields  the  victory  to  the  contending  sinner. 
You  see  what  the  charge  was  upon  the  people  of  Israel  by 
Stephen,  Acts  vii.  51.  Ye  stifi"-necked  and  uncircumcised 
in  heart  and  ear,  ye  do  always  resist  the  Holy  Ghost;  as 
your  fathers  did,  so  do  ye.  'Tis  remarkable  to  this  pur- 
pose what  this  blessed  man  charges  that  people  with  ;  that 
this  was  the  genius  of  that  people  from  age  to  age,  from 
one  generation  to  another.  Ye  do  always  resist,  &c.  The 
same  spirit  of  enmity  and  contrariety  is  still  propagated 
and  transmitted  from  one  age  to  another,  your  fathers  are 
like  their  fathers,  and  their  fathers  like  theirs ;  and  so  run 
on  back  as  far  as  you  will;  they  were  always  a  people  re- 
sisting and  contending  against  the  Holy  Ghost ;  as  the 
complaint  was  against  them  not  long  before,  Isa.  Ixiii.  10. 
They  rebelled  and  vexed  his  Spirit,  therefore  he  turned 
and  fought  against  them,  and  became  their  enemy.  And 
that  this  is  the  common  temper,  is  mcst  eviden*.  and  was 
so  even  in  the  more  early  ages  of  the  woild.  IVh'  Spirit 
shall  not  always  strive  with  man,  Gen.  vi.  3.  That  striv- 
ing implies  a  resistance.  There  is  great  danger  of  resist- 
ing the  Spirit  of  God,  when  it  is  in  that  method  and  way 


of  operation,  wherein  it  many  times  yields  to  the  resist- 
ance. 'Tis  as  if  he  should  say  to  the  sinner,  "  Because 
thou  hast  .so  great  a  mind  to  get  the  day,  and  deliver  thy- 
self from  under  the  power  of  my  grace,  get  that  unhappy 
victory,  and  perish  by  it." 

5.  It  imports  the  integrity  and  perfection  of  the  product, 
and  that  the  thing  begotten  is  an  entire  thing.  There  doth 
not  use  to  be  born  one  simple  member,  but  an  entire  crea- 
ture ;  and  there  is  a  concurrence  in  the  constitution  of  it, 
of  whatsoever  belongs  to  this  sort  and  kind  of  creature. 
And  though  there  are  some  kinds  within  the  .sphere  of  na- 
ture of  mutilous  and  maimed  persons,  imperfect  produc- 
tions; )'et  we  must  know,  that  this  doth  by  a  peculiarity 
belong  to  this  great  parent,  the  Spirit  of  God,  in  reference 
to  all  those  productions  which  are  within  the  sphere  of 
grace,  that  there  are  never  any  imperfect  productions  there. 
His  work  is  perfect;  which  is  the  character  of  his  work 
in  general,  and  especially  when  he  is  forming  a  people  for 
him.self,  as  he  speaks,  Deut.  xxxii.  4.  He  is  the  Rock,  his 
work  is  perfect,  for  all  his  ways  are  judgment.  And  of 
those  who  receive  not  the  distinguishing  stamp  and  im- 
press upon  them ;  it  is  said,  their  spot  is  not  the  spot  of  his 
children,  ver.  5.  There  is  nothing  in  them  by  which  they 
should  be  known  to  be  his  children.  Wheresoever  the 
Spirit  of  God  begets,  it  begets  perfect  births  ;  that  is,  ac- 
cording to  the  common  distinction,  and  a  just  and  neces- 
sary one,  speaking  of  a  perfection  of  parts,  not  of  degrees. 
A  child  hath  as  many  parts,  as  a  man,  though  not  so  strong 
and  large.  There  is  an  entire  concurrence  of  ever)'  gra- 
cious and  holy  principle  in  the  heart,  which  goes  to  the 
composition  of  the  new  creature,  wherever  we  can  say, 
that  any  one  is  born  of  the  Spirit.  And  therefore  men 
who  pretend  to  have  passed  this  birth,  and  yet  it  appears 
most  manifestly  that  it  is  but  a  maimed  production,  as  it 
is  in  too  many  instances  with  several  sorts  of  persons; 
they  carry  that  about  them,  which  is  a  confutation  of  their 
own  pretences.  As  suppose  the  case  to  be  this.  Some 
pretend  very  highly  to  faith,  but  they  have  no  humility,  no 
meekness,  ioo  self-denial.  Why,  their  pretence  carries 
along  with  it  that  which  confutes  itself;  for  the  Holy 
Ghost  is  the  author  of  no  such  imperfect  births.  There  are 
some  who  pretend  highly  in  point  of  dut)'  towards  God, 
and  think  themselves  altogether  unexceptionable,  in  re- 
spect of  the  frame  of  their  spirits,  and  their  performances 
as  to  the  commands  of  the  first  table ;  but  bring  them  to 
the  second,  and  there  is  no  impression  at  all  of  any  thing 
like  the  mind  and  will  of  God  appearing  in  their  hearts 
and  lives.  Men  will  pray,  and  read,  and  hear;  go  from 
sermon  to  sermon;  take  one  opportunity  after  another  of 
attending  upon  religious  exercises;  but  in  the  mean  tinie 
they  will  cheat  and  cozen,  revile  and  reproach,  their 
neighbours  and  those  they  have  to  do  with.  How  unlike 
is  such  a  production  as  this  to  the  Spirit  of  God,  Mhen 
men  are  made  Christians  thus  by  halves  ! 

So  on  the  other  hand,  there  are  those  who  will  be  very 
punctual  and  exact  in  reference  to  the  duties  of  the  second 
table,  and  it  may  be  to  an  eminency,  and  very  high  degree ; 
so  strictly  just  in  all  their  performances,  so  orderly  in  the 
relations  wherein  ti*ey  stand;  yea,  some  very  charitable, 
and  apt  to  do  good  to  others;  but  bring  them  to  matters 
which  relate  to  God,  and  what  they  can  say  of  living  in 
communion  with  God;  how  their  hearts  stand  towards 
praying  to  him,  and  meditating  on  him  ;  what  inclinations 
or  dispositions  they  have  towards  an  eternal  blessedness; 
to  all  these  things  they  are  silent,  and  have  nothing  to  say. 
The  matter  speaks  itself  in  this  case  ;  that  which  is  born 
spirit  of  spirit,  is  certainly  born  a  perfect  thing  as  to  all 
the  parts  which  appertain  and  belong  to  this  creature :  and 
therefore  where  there  are  so  remarkable  maims,  it  is  too 
manifest  this  production  is  none  of  that  divine  production 
by  which  a  man  is  said  to  be  born  spirit  of  spirit. 

6.  It  imports  the  permanency  of  the  tiling  produced, 
and  that  it  is  a  fixed  and  settled  habit  in  the  soul.  As  to 
things  which  are  merely  fluid  and  transient,  we  know  no 
such  things  to  which  the  name  of  begetting  can  with  any 
propriety  be  applied  ;  as  a  book,  or  glass  of  wine,  &c. 
And  therefore  it  must  be  very  unsuitable  to  the  meaning 
and  design  of  such  expressions  as  these,  to  think  that  only 
better  actions  are  the  product  in  the  work  of  regeneration  ; 
and  that  a  man  is  hence  to  be  denominated  regenerate,  be- 


510 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT 


Serm.  hi 


cause  he  cloth  better  things  than  he  did  before;  and  there 
is  some  kind  of  reformation  and  amendment  of  life.  'Tis 
true  indeed  the  apostle  says,  He  who  doth  righteousness 
is  righteous,  and  is  born  of  God,  1  John  ii.  29.  But  what 
doth  that  mean  1  Not  that  the  doing  of  righteousness  is 
the  productus  terminus  in  this  birth,  but  an  argument  that 
there  is  such  a  thing  produced,  or  enabled  and  rendered 
capable  of  doing  righteousness;  that  is,  by  being  made 
habitually  and  internally  righteous.  But  to  think  that 
there  should  be  so  many  great  expressions  in  the  word  of 
God  concerning  this  product ;  that  it  should  be  called  a 
divine  nature,  th  new  man,  the  seed  of  God,  God's  own 
image;  and  when  we  come  to  inquire  what  this  is  that  any 
should  run  the  matter  into  this;  it  is  an  action,  a  good  ac- 
tion or  two.  What  !  is  the  divine  nature  and  image  a 
few  good  actions  1  And  they  who  are  wont  to  conceive  so 
of  the  matter,  commonly  take  up  with  actions  which  are 
far  from  being  any  of  the  best  too ;  and  so  bring  the  mat- 
ter to  a  very  poor  pass  at  last.  Certainly  this  form  of  ex- 
pression doth  hold  forth  to  us  a  fixed,  permanent  effect, 
and  our  habitual  frame  which  remains  and  abides  in  the 
soul  of  a  man,  and  will  be  an  immortal  thing. 

Lastly,  It  imports  somewhat  relating  to  matter  of  privi- 
lege, i.  e.  a  relation  to  him  who  begets,  as  a  child.  He 
who  is  begotten  is  related,  as  a  child,  to  him  who  doth  be- 
get; and  has  consequently  a  title  to  his  care  and  provi- 
dence; as  every  parent  thinks  himself  bound  to  make 
provision  for  his  children.  They  who  are  begotten  of  God, 
are  hence  at  the  first  step  capable  of  the  denomination  of 
sons,  or  children.  And  then  you  know  how  the  apostle 
rises  with  it,  (Rom.  viii.  17.)  If  children,  then  heirs  ;  heirs 
of  God,  and  joint  heirs  with  Christ;  that  if  we  suffer  with 
him,  we  may  be  also  glorified  together.  They  who  are 
begotten,  fall  under  his  immediate  care,  and  he  takes  him- 
self concerned  to  make  provision  for  them ;  they  are  a  part 
of  his  family,theson5  and  daughters  of  the  Lord  Almighty. 
If  a  man  will  not  take  care  of  his  own,  and  they  who  are 
of  his  own  house,  he  denies  the  faith,  and  is  worse  than 
an  infidel ;  and  it  is  never  to  be  imagined  that  God  will 
deal  so  with  his  family,  or  children.  We  must  carry  the 
matter  of  this  begetting  then  as  high  as  heaven  ;  He  hath 
begotten  us  again  to  a  lively  hope — to  an  inheritance  in- 
corruptible, undefiled,  and  which  fades  not  away,  reserved 
in  heaven  for  us,  1  Pet.  i.  3,  4.  We  are  not  only  to  con- 
sider, what  is  born  when  such  a  production  as  this  takes 
place ;  but  what  such  a  one  is  born  to.  He  is  born  an 
heir,  an  heir  of  God,  and  joint  heir  with  Christ :  a  vast 
patrimony  it  is,  which  they  have  a  share  and  part  in. 

Now  take  all  these  things  together,  and  it  will  appear 
not  a  mean  or  little  work,  which  is  intended  by  this  ex- 
pression, of  being  born  or  begotten  spirit  of  spirit.  Let 
us  therefore  take  heed  of  derogating  from  this  great  work, 
or  makmg  little  of  it,  as  if  it  were  some  small  trivial  thing. 
Certainly  it  is  not  a  .slight  thing,  which  finally  and  eter- 
nally di.stinguisheth  between  them  who  shall  be  saved,  and 
them  who  perish;  and  is  the  discriminating  mark  between 
the  children  of  God,  and  other  men  ;  or  the  new  seed  and 
race,  raised  up  by  God  to  himself;  and  the  rest  of  the 
apostate  world,  who  are  called  the  seed  and  children  of 
the  devil.  There  are  but  these  two  seeds  in  the  world  ; 
and  it  cannot  be  a  small  thing  which  doth  distinguish 
them.  Therefore  take  heed  of  thinking  little  of  this  work. 
And  as  we  should  take  heed  of  derogating  from  it,  so  we 
should  take  equal  heed  of  arrogating  too  much  to  ourselves 
upon  the  account  of  it.  For  what  have  we  contributed  to 
our  being  actually  born  or  begotten"?  And  take  heed  of 
censorious  discriminations  in  your  own  thoughts  concern- 
ing persons,  or  diversely  denominated  parties  of  men,  pre- 
tending to  religion.  As  to  say,  They  who  are  of  such  a 
way,  they  'tis  likely  are  regenerate;  but  they  of  such  a 
way,  are  not  regenerate.  This  is  to  forget  that  the  Spirit, 
as  the  wind,  bloweth  where  it  listeth,  and  we  know  not 
whence  it  cometh,  nor  whither  it  goes  ;  and  is  as  much  as 
in  effect  to  say,  "  Lo!  here  is  Christ,  and  there  is  Christ!" 
This  very  work  in  the  soul  is  called  Christ  formed  in  us ; 
the  name  being  put  for  the  image  or  likeness.  We  should 
take  heed  of  saying,  Here  he  is,  or  there  he  is  ;  and  know 
that  the  kingdom  of  God  (and  the  kingdom  of  God  in  one 
notion  of  it,  i.  e.  subjectively  considered,  is  not  a  diverse 
*  Preached  December  19;lij  16"7,  at  Cordwainer'e  Hall. 


thing  from  the  frame  of  holiness,  inwrought  in  the  soul) 
doth  not  consist  in  externals,  in  meats  and  drinks,  but  in 
righteousness,  peace,  and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost,  Rom.  xiv. 
17.  And  in  Christ  Jesus  neither  circumcision  availeth 
any  thing,  nor  uncircumcision,  but  a  new  creature.  Gal. 
vi.  15.  The  new  creature  may  be  found  in  the  circumci- 
sion or  in  the  uncircumcision  ;  and  'tis  no  matter  of 
which  sort  one  is  of,  if  the  work  of  the  new  creature 
don't  obtain  and  take  place.  This  is  therefore  much  to 
be  minded,  and  sought,  and  valued,  even  lor  itself,  and 
upon  the  account  of  its  own  intrinsic  necessity  and  excel- 
lence. 'Tis  enough  to  recommend  any  man  to  me,  that 
there  is  a  visible  impress,  so  far  as  that  thing  can  be  visi- 
ble, of  the  new  creature  upon  his  soul;  for  whosoever  loves 
him  who  begets,  loveth  him  also  who  is  begotten  of  him, 
1  John  V.  1. 


SERMON  III.* 

We  have  proposed  to  consider  this  truth  from  these  words 
— That  there  is  a  work  to  be  done  upon  all  who  shall  par- 
take in  the  kingdom  of  God,  by  which  they  are  to  he  borr. 
spirit  of  spirit. — We  have  opened  the  work  itself  accord- 
ing to  the  several  terms  in  the  text;  and  have  spoke  to  the 
effect,  or  production  ;  that  is,  to  make  men  spirit,  who  he- 
fore  were  flesh  ; — the  productive  cause,  the  Spirit,  and — 
the  kind  of  the  production,  which  is  by  begetting. 

That  which  we  have  next  to  speak  to,  is  the  nr.cessily  of 
this  work ;  that  is,  the  necessity  of  it  unto  this  end  and 
purpose ;  namely,  the  rendering  men  capable  of  a  place 
and  partnership  in  God's  kingdom.  And  as  the  foimer 
head  we  have  hitherto  been  speaking  of,  does  lie  in  the 
words  of  the  text,  looking  upon  them  in  their  absolute  con- 
sideration, so  we  are  led  to  the  latter,  by  the  relative  con- 
sideration of  them,  or  in  the  reference  they  have  to  the 
foregoing  discourse.  For  our  Saviour  having  said  before, 
that  "except  a  man  be  born  again  of  water,  and  of  the 
Spirit,  he  cannot  see  or  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God," 
he  doth  in  this  verse,  subjoin  a  reason  why  he  cannot : 
"  That  which  is  born  of  the  flesh  is  flesh,"  and  therefore 
there  must  be  somewhat  born  of  the  Spirit  which  may  be 
suitable  thereto.  In  evincing  therefore  to  you  the  neces- 
sity of  such  a  work  to  such  an  end,  it  will  be  requisite  to 
give  you  some  account  of  that  kingdom,  for  which  such  a 
work  as  this  is  so  necessarily  preparatory. 

I  will  not  trouble  you  with  many  distinctions  about  it, 
only  we  are  necessarily  to  distinguish  it,  as  we  may  in  the 
common  notion  of  a  kingdom,  into  a  kingdom  taken  for- 
mally and  actively  ;  so  it  signifies  the  royal  state  and  go- 
verning power  of  a  kingdom.  In  that  sense  the  kingdom 
of  God  or  Christ  is  manifestly  understood  in  the  prayer 
of  the  thief:  "  Remember  me  when  thou  comesi  inio  thy 
kingdom  ;"  i.  e.  into  that  dignity  and  royal  state,  which  I 
believe  thou  will  shortly  be  in.  But  then  it  is  very  often 
and  familiarly  taken  too  objectively,  for  the  bulk  and  body 
of  the  community,  or  the  subjects  wlio  are  under  such  a 
king.  So  we  take  ours  in  common  speech  ;  and  .so  is  the 
kingdom  of  God  very  often  taken,  when  we  read  of  the 
increase  and  growth  of  it  under  the  metaphorical  expres- 
sions which  represent  it  to  us  in  the  Gospel.  Kingdom, 
taken  in  the  former  sense,  doth  either  signify  that  which  is 
more  strictly  formal,  and  so  which  is  appropriate  and  com- 
municable to  the  king  himself,  in  such  a  kingdom;  and 
not  communicable  to  others  with  him  :  that  is,  the  sovereign 
power,  by  which  he  doth  in  common  govern  his  subjects. 
Or  else,  there  may  be  somewhat  consequential  to  that  which 
is  more  strictly  formal ;  and  which  doth  more  accidentally 
belong  to  the  king ;  and  is  communicable,  and  in  a  se- 
condary sense  capable,  of  being  imparted  and  derived,  to 
many,  at  least,  among  his  subjects ;  those  especially  whom 
he  more  particularly  favours.  And  that  is  such  honour 
and  dignity  as  comes  to  be  reflected  upon  such  and  such 
persons,  by  their  relation  to  such  a  king.  In  that  sense  a 
kingdom  is  said  to  be  given  and  communicated  to  the 
people  of  God  :  I  appoint  unto  you  a  kingdom,  as  my 


Skrm.  III. 


IN  REFERENCE  TO  PARTICULAR  PERSONS. 


51 1 


Father  hath  appointed  to  me  a  kingdom,  Luke  xxii.  20. 
Fear  not,  little  flock;  'tis  tlie  Father's  good  pleasure  to 
give  you  a  kingdom.  Inherit  the  kingdom  prepared  for 
you.  There  are  several  things  wherein  especially  favour- 
ite subjects  do  partake  in  a  kingdom,  with  him  who  su- 
premely rules,  and  holds  and  exercises  the  sovereign  power. 
We  would  consider  a,s  belonging  to  the  slate  of  a  king, 
great  opulency  and  riches,  splendour  and  glory,  pleasure 
and  delight,  beyond  what  we  must  suppose  common  with 
other  men.  In  this  respect  the  appellation  is  given  ;  Ye 
have  reigned  as  kings  without  us  ;  1  would  to  God  you  did 
reign,  that  we  might  reign  with  3'ou,  1  Cor.  iv.  8.  They 
were  a  sort  of  lanquam  kings,  speaking  of  that  free  state 
and  condition  wherein  they  were,  and  exempted  from  suf- 
fering: tlftey  had  plentiful  enjoyments  beyond  what  the 
apostle  could  have.  And  so  in  this  kingdom  of  God,  all 
who  do  partake  in  it,  are  in  these  respects  said  to  be  kings : 
Unto  him  who  hath  loved  us,  and  washed  us  from  our  sins 
in  his  blood;  and  made  us  kings  and  priests  unto  God, 
and  our  Father,  Rev.  i.  (5.  That  is,  in  pursuance  of  God's 
design,  and  according  to  his  purpose  and  intendment,  he 
hath  done  his  work  to  his  hand,  which  he  appointeth  him 
to  do,  in  this  kingly  part.  To  enter  into  the  kingdom,  and 
behold  and  see  the  kingdom,  which  are  the  expressions 
our  Saviour  uses  in  this  context,  may  very  well  be  under- 
stood to  signify  one  and  the  same  thing;  only  that  one 
must,  according  to  the  manifest  import,  denote  the  first  in- 
troduction into  that  kingly  state  ;  and  the  other,  the  con- 
tinued enjoyment  of  it ;  Avhich  seeing  is  frequently  expres- 
sive of  in  the  Scripture.  Nothing  is  more  usual  than  to 
signify  enjoyment  and  fruition  by  sight,  or  vision ;  because 
that  is  the  noblest  of  our  external  senses ;  and  so  (an  ex- 
pression being  to  be  used  which  is  borrowed  from  sense) 
the  most  emphatical,  and  to  the  present  purpose.  The 
blessedness  of  heaven  is  hence  expressed  by  seeing  :  "  The 
angels  behold  the  face  of  my  Father  whicn  is  in  heaven. 
Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart,  for  they  shall  see  God. 
Follow  holiness,  without  which  no  man  shall  see  God." 

But  we  are  a  little  further  to  pursue  that  notion  of  a 
kingdom  as  it  is  taken  in  the  latter  sense,  objectively,  and 
as,  by  the  name  of  a  kingdom,  is  signified  the  governed 
community,  or  the  body  of  the  people  who  are  under  go- 
vernment. The  kingdom  of  God  taken  in  this  sense,  is 
either  made  up  of  involuntary  or  voluntary  subjects ;  either 
such  whom  he  governs  with  their  own  good  liking  and 
consent,  or  such  as  he  governs  whether  they  will  or  no, 
and  although  they  never  choose  to  be  under  his  govern- 
ment. As  for  that  kingdom  of  his,  which  takes  in  involun- 
taiy,  unwilling  subjects ;  they  are  either  such  as  are  so  by 
natural  incapacity,  or  by  vicious  disinclination.  They  who 
are  so  by  natural  incapacity,  as  also  unintelligent  creatures, 
who  are  never  capable  of  choosing  God  to  be  their  governor 
and  king;  and  they  who  are  not  willing  through  vicious 
disinclination  ;  who  though  they  have  that  nature  which 
was  originally  capable  of  intellection,  and  so  consequently 
of  election  and  choice  ;  yet  the  pure  powers  and  faculties 
by  which  they  were  capable  of  it,  are  now  become  so  de- 
praved, that  they  disatfect  his  kingdom,  and  can't  endure 
to  be  under  his  government.  And  this  kingdom  of  his, 
which  takes  in  involuntary  subjects,  whether  intelligent  or 
unintelligent,  doth  measui'e  with  the  universe.  It  is  the 
kingdom  of  nature,  and  no  one  needs  any  other  qualifica- 
tion to  be  in  that  kingdom,  but  to  be  in  reruvi  naluro.  If 
he  is  an  existent  creature,  he  is  in  that  kingdom  without 
any  more  to  do  ;  but  that  is  not  the  kingdom  here  meant. 

There  is  therefore  another  kingdom,  w^hich  comprehends 
and  takes  in  only  a  willing  people,  made  "  willing  in  the 
day  of  his  power  ;"  who  with  choice  and  consent  of  their 
own  hearts,  subject  themselves  to  him,  to  whom  it  is  a 
pleasant  thought  (as  often  as  it  comes  into  their  minds) 
that  the  Lord  reigns.  They  triumph  in  it,  and  please 
themselves  and  glory  in  it,  and  pay  a  joyful  homage  to 
him,  as  the  supreme  and  eternal  King.'  It  is  into  this 
kingdom  that  none  can  enter,  but  they  who  are  born  spirit 
of  spirit.  And  this  kingdom  also  is  to  be  considered  in  a 
twofold  state;  either  in  its  inchoate,  or  consummate  state. 
Inchoate  is  that  which  we  commonly  call  the  kingdom  of 
grace  ;  and  consummate,  the  kingdom  of  glory.  Now  to 
be  born  spirit  of  spirit,  is  necessary  to  any  one's  having  a 
place  in  this  kingdom,  considered  either  way,  or  in  either 


state.  The  inchoate  kingdom,  you  know,  for  a  long  time, 
lay  principally  among  the  people  of  the  Jews;  and  they 
were  so  apprehensive  of  their  privilege  and  condition  upon 
that  account,  and  did  so  highly  value  it,  that  it  weus  even 
a  principle  among  them,  that  none  could  come  into  that 
kingdom,  without  being  in  a  sort  new  born  ;  as  some  have 
taken  notice  who  have  been  well  acquainted  with  their 
antiquities  and  usages.  And  therefore  they  whoever  came 
to  be  proselyted  to  their  religion,  and  who  were  not  native 
Jews;  if  they  arrived  to  that  degree  of  proselytism,  which 
made  them"  more  complete  proselytes,  that  is,  were  prose- 
lytes of  justice;  when  they  came  to  be  inhialed,  solemnly 
renounced  their  earthly  relations,  all  their  former  kindred 
and  acquaintance,  so  far  that  they  should  not  have  any 
power  over  them  to  detract  or  draw  them  back  from  the 
religion  in  which  they  were  engaged.  And  so  they  were 
looked  upon  as  men  recens  vati ;  as  if  they  had  then  newly 
come  into  the  world,  and  had  a  new  sort  of  relations  to 
which  they  were  strangers  before.  And  these  proselytes 
were  also  hereupon  solemnly  admitted,  through  the  use  of 
the  ceremon}^  of  washing  in  water;  to  which  the  words  of 
our  Saviour  in  the  foregoing  verse  seem  to  have  a  manifest 
reference :  "  Except  a  man  be  born  of  water,  and  of  the 
Spirit,  he  cannot  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God."  Upon 
this  account  he  blames  Nicodemus  for  his  great  ignorance, 
who  was  a  master  among  the  Jews.  Not  that  v.'e  are  to 
suppose  that  he  thought  him  ignorant  that  there  was  such 
a  usage  among  them;  but  that  he  no  more  understood  the 
reason  and  meaning  of  their  common  practice,  and  should 
make  himself  so  great  a  stranger  to  that  which  was  the 
true  import  of  such  a  ceremony.  And  therefore  our  Sa- 
viour says,  "  Except  a  man  is  born  of  water,  and  of  the 
Spirit;"  not  therein  laying  the  great  stress  upon  being 
born  of  water  ;  for  that  is  a  thing  he  admits  and  takes  lor 
granted;  and  he  implies  in  this  expression  his  intendment 
to  settle  and  establish  that  as  an  ordinance  transferred  from 
the  Jewish  to  the  Christian  church,  and  to  continue  there ; 
but  that  upon  which  he  lays  the  weight,  and  where  the 
emphasis  lies,  is  the  latter  expression ;  "  Except  a  man  be 
born  of  water,  and  of  the  Spirit."  As  if  he  had  said; 
"  You  are  apt  to  lay  a  great  stress  upon  that  ceremony  vou 
use  of  baptizingwith  water,  when  any  persons  are  initiated 
into  the  church  of  God  ;  and  though  that  is  not  nothing, 
yet  you  must  know,  if  there  is  not  a  being  born  and  bap- 
tized of  the  Spirit,  as  well  as  of  water,  it  signifies  nothing 
to  your  having  a  place  in  the  kingdom  of  God,  or  to  any 
one's  else."  'This  is  a  usual  thing  in  Scripture,  to  join  two 
matters  together,  in  one  tenor  and  form  of  speech,  where 
the  stress  is  mainly  laid  upon  the  latter,  and  sometimes 
only  upon  it.  Rom.  vi.  17.  God  be  thanked,  that  you 
were  the  servants  of  sin,  but  you  have  obeyed  from  the 
heart  that  form  of  doctrine  which  was  delivered  to  you. 
What  are  thanks  given  to  God  for  1  These  are  both  joined 
together  in  the  same  form  of  speech:  sure  he  never  intend- 
ed to  give  thanks  for  their  having  been  the  servants  of  sin. 
But  the  weight  and  emphasis  is  to  be  all  carried  to  that 
which  follows  ;  "  But  you  have  obeyed  ihe  form  of  doc- 
trine which  was  delivered  to  you."  So  here,  "Except  a 
man  is  born  of  water,  and  of  the  Spirit."  q.  d.  I  admit  of 
the  fitness  and  requisiteness  that  persons  should  be  bap- 
tized with  water;  for  that  is  intimated  here,  that  it  shall 
obtain  as  a  constant  usage  in  the  very  kingdom  of  God  ; 
but  except  unto  that  being  born  or  baptized  of  water,  there 
is  the  superaddiiion  of  being  born  of  the  Spirit,  which 
that  of  water  was  but  a  signal  of,  no  one  is  any  way  quali- 
fied for  the  kingdom  of  God;  and  cannot  have  any  en- 
trance into  it,  according  to  the  inchoate  or  consummate 
state  of  it. 

And  now  to  evince  the  necessity  of  it,  it  will  be  onl)' 
needful  to  consider, 

1.  It  would  be  most  unsuitable  to  the  Supreme  Ruler 
over  this  kingdom,  that  any  should  come  into  it  who  are 
not  new  born.  For  we  are  to  consider,  that  this  is  not  the 
kingdom  of  nature,  as  was  said,  but  a  kingdom  founded, 
not  in  nature,  but  in  choice.  'Tis  true  it  were  no  incon- 
gruity, or  rellection  upon  the  great  and  glorious  King  of 
tliis  kingdom,  if  it  were  onlv  that  constitution,  and  there 
were  nothing  recjuisite  to  give  one  a  place  in  it,  but  to  be 
in  being;  it  would  be  no  dishonour,  I  say,  to  him  to  have 
sinners,  and  devils  too,  in  his  kingdom,  if  that  were  all: 


512 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT 


Skum.  III. 


but  considering  that  this  is  a  kingdom  of  select  persons, 
and  that  he  makes  choice  between  some  and  others,  and 
by  which  he  distinguishes  some  from  others ;  it  were  a 
most  unreasonable  thing  in  this  case  to  suppose,  that  he 
should  take  in  promiscuously  persons  of  so  vastly  different 
tempers  and  dispositions,  as  they  who  are  born  only  of  the 
flesh,  and  they  who  are  born  of  the  Spirit ;  or  that  when 
he  goes  to  make  a  distinction,  he  should  make  a  distinc- 
tion without  a  difference,  and  should  take  just  such  as  he 
leaves,  and  leave  just  such  as  he  takes;  that  were  most 
unworthy  of  the  Divine  wisdom,  and  the  holiness  or  purity 
of  his  nature.  This  being  a  kingdom  of  chosen  ones,  it  is 
to  be  supposed,  that  he  should  make  them  whom  he 
chooses,  suitable  to  himself  Therefore  it  is  most  strictly 
insisted  upon,  and  highly  charged  upon  them  who  come 
to  stand  visibly  related  to  this  kingdom,  that  they  approve 
themselves  suitably  to  it.  Observe  the  expression  of  the 
apostle,  1  Thess.  ii.  12.  You  know  how  1  exhorted  you, 
and  how  I  comforted  you,  and  how  I  charged  you,  that 
you  should  walk  worthy  of  God,  who  hath  called  you  to 
his  kingdom  and  glory.  The  great  stress  is  laid  upon  a 
suitable  becoming  deportment,  such  as  may  not  be  reflect- 
ing and  reproachful  to  the  blessed  and  glorious  God,  who 
had  called  them  to  his  kingdom  and  glory.  It  was  there- 
fore upon  this  account  necessary,  inasmuch  as  they  must 
be  rendered  suitable  to  their  king,  who  come  into  this 
kingdom,  that  the  Almighty  Spirit  should  be  emplo3^ed, 
go  forth  with  power,  and  diffuse  its  mighty  influence,  and 
form  and  prepare  men  to  be  of  this  kingdom.  And  that 
was  not  to  be  done  but  by  this  begetting  them  spirit  of 
spirit,  and  that  th^y  who  come  into  this  kingdom,  might 
be  at  once  both  subjects  and  sons;  for  the  kingdom  is 
spoken  of  both  under  the  notion  of  a  kingdom  and  of  a 
family;  that  family  which  is  on  earth,  named  from  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  Eph.  iii.  15.  It  is  not  suitableness 
enough  in  this  case,  that  it  is  a  kingdom  of  rational  and 
intelligent  creatures:  that  would  indeed  give  a  natural 
suitableness;  God  is  the  God  of  the  spirits  of  all  flesh, 
Numb.  xvi.  22.  But  it  is  most  manifest  here  that  the  spirit 
in  the  latter  expression,  is  not  taken  in  a  natural  sense,  any 
more  than  flesh,  in  the  foregoing  part  of  the  verse.  Our 
Saviour  doth  manifestly  speak  of  flesh  there  contemptibly, 
and  seems  to  cast  an  ignominy  upon  it ;  whereas  mere 
natural  flesh  is  a  very  innocent,  harmless  thing.  And  'tis 
no  more  spirit  that  is  taken  in  a  natural  sense ;  but  as  by 
the  flesh,  is  meant  corruption  and  sinfulness,  so  by  spirit 
is  meant  holiness,  principally  and  chiefly ;  and  it  is  therein 
that  they  must  be  suitable  to  him,  who  shall  see  God. 
You  must  be  a  holy  nation,  a  holy  people ;  so  he  speaks 
concerning  the  people  of  the  Jews,  whose  constitution  was 
as  it  were  a  type  and  model  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  which 
wa.s  afterwards  to  obtain  in  the  world  in  a  greater  lustre  and 
glory,  and  to  be  perfected  at  length  into  an  eternal  kingdom. 
Ye  shall  be  to  me  a  holy  people,  Exod.  xix.  G.  So  they  be- 
came suitable  to  him  as  a  peculiar  above  all  nations: 
they  were  a  peculiar  people  to  him  in  this  very  respect, 
which  certainly  none  can  be  who  are  not  born  sjurit  of  spirit. 
2.  It  were  unsuitable  that  others  should  be  of  this  king- 
dom, to  the  design  and  end  of  its  constitution  and  appoint- 
ment. We  have  that  expressed  in  1  Pet.  ii.  9.  a  place 
taken  from  the  forementioned  19lh  of  Exodus,  Ye  are  a 
chosen  generation,  a  royal  priesthood,  a  holy  nation,  a 
peculiar  people ;  and  they  are  called  for  this  end  and  pur- 
pose, "  to  show  forth  the  praises  of  him  who  hath  called 
you  from  darkness  to  his  marvellous  light."  This  then  is 
a  constitution  set  up  and  formed  on  purpose  to  be  to  the 
praise  and  glory  of  God.  When  our  Lord  has  finished 
the  work  of  his  mediatorial  kingdom,  and  put  it  oiU  of  its 
imperfect  and  growing  state,  into  that  of  consummation, 
wherein  it  is  to  continue  and  endure  always;  he  will  then 
come  to  be  glorified  in  his  saints,  and  admired  in  all  them 
who  believe,  2  Thess.  i.  10.  But  alas !  what  were  there 
admirable  or  glorious  in  this  matter,  if  men  were  to  be 
gathered,  as  it  were,  by  a  casual  hand,  into  one  body  and 
community,  without  making  any  discrimination  1  It  were 
then  a  work  which  had  nothing  glorious  in  it ;  even  M^hen 
this  kingdom  is  rising  to  its  complete  state,  and  perfect 
maturity,  to  have  persons  found  there  who  were  never 
Dorn  into  it,  or  had  a  temper  of  mind  agreeable  to  it.  It 
might  be   said  in  that  case,  the  end  was   lost,  and   the 


design  miscarried.  And  the  greater  stress  is  to  be  laid 
upon  this,  for  this  reason,  that  this  is  a  second  constitution, 
to  have  a  pure  and  holy  kingdom  in  this  world.  The 
kingdom  of  nature  was  pure  at  first ;  there  was  nothing 
of  iniquity  in  it;  but  there  was  an  apostacy  and  revolt  in 
it ;  a  great  part  made  a  defection;  the  whole  race  of  men. 
Now  this  is  a  design  of  retrieving  the  loss,  so  far  as  it  is 
possible  to  be  retrieved  ;  that  is,  that  those  angels  who 
fell  not  should  be  confirmed ;  and  among  men,  who  all 
fell,  many  should  be  restored;  so  that  it  was  manifestly 
to  be  seen,  that  the  design  was,  as  if  God  had  said,  "  I 
will  have  a  kingdom  which  shall  hold  pure,  and  holy,  and 
in  which  there  shall  be  no  more  mutiny  or  tumult,  no  dis- 
cord and  disorder,  aid  nothing  of  revolt  or  rebellion  shall 
be  known  any  more."  This  being  the  case,  it  was  plainly 
his  design  to  have  such  a  constitution  as  this,  for  his  own 
eternal  praise,  and  wherein  he  might  be  manifest,  and  his 
name  continue  everlastingly  glorious.  He  now  forms  a 
people  for  himself  on  purpose  to  be  the  eternal  monuments 
of  his  praise.  The  exigency  of  the  end  aimed  at  in  set- 
ting up  this  kingdom,  did  challenge  so  much,  that  it  be 
a  kingdom  of  them  who  are  born  to  God,  and  have  a  tem- 
per suitable  to  the  state  they  are  to  come  into.  Wherefore 
do  we  think  God  did  constitute  a  second  kingdom,  but 
that  he  would  be  sure  to  have  all  things  right  and  well 
there  by  that  time  he  had  brought  things  to  their  final  re- 
sult and  issue  1  We  may  be  confident  he  will  make  sure 
work  now,  and  have  nothing  in  this  kingdom  but  what 
shall  agree  with  the  design  and  purpose  of  it,  and  be 
homogeneous  to  it,  and  all  of  a  piece.  And  to  suppose  he 
should  have  such  a  design  as  this,  and  suffer  himself  to  be 
foiled  and  baffled  in  it,  is  a  most  unreasonable  and  mon- 
strous supposition. 

3.  It  would  be  altogether  unsuitable  to  the  laws  and  of- 
fices of  this  kingdom,  whether  in  the  present  or  future  stale 
of  it.  God  is  to  be  taken  for  their  God,  which  is  the  first 
and  most  fundamental  of  all  his  laws;  "  Thou  shalt  have 
none  other  God  before  me.".  This  is  indeed  the  swearing 
allegiance  to  this  great  King  upon  their  entrance  into  this 
kingdom.  Who  can  ever  do  this  who  is  not  born  to  if? 
The  carnal  mind  is  enmity  against  God ;  (can't  endure  his 
government;)  it  is  not  subject  to  his  law,  neither  indeed 
can  be,  Rom.  viii.  7.  It  is  never  possible  any  can  join 
themselves  to  God  as  their  God,  without  having  their 
minds  spiritualized  and  refined  into  such  a  temper  as  can 
agree  to  him.  There  will  be  perpetual  tumultualions  and 
regrets  against  his  authority  and  laws,  till  this  transform- 
ing work  hath  passed  upon  them.  And  then  afterwards 
the  whole  course  of  such  persons'  walk  and  deportment 
must  be  a  continued  course  of  subjection  and  obedience. 
They  must  bear  themselves  toward  God  as  their  chosen 
God,  and  live  entirely  to  him.  And  sure  there  needs  ano- 
ther .spirit  than  what  is  natural  to  man  ;  for  they  are  in  all 
their  after-course  to  walk  in  the  Spirit,  to  worship  in  the 
Spirit,  to  pray  in  the  Spirit,  to  do  every  thing  they  do  in 
the  Spirit.  How  necessary  is  it,  upon  this  account,  to  be 
born  spirit  of  spirit !  It  is,  and  must  be,  the  eternal  work 
of  tho.se  who  are  of  this  kingdom,  to  love,  and  obey,  and 
praise  everlastingly.  What  is  a  carnal  heart  to  .such  em- 
ployment ?  The  laws  of  this  kingdom  require  that  these 
be  the  perpetual  exercises  of  those  who  come  into  this 
kingdom.  Carnality,  should  we  suppose  such  a  thing  in 
this  kingdom,  must  needs  carry  with  it  that  enmity,  which 
stands  in  direct  opposition  to  love;  that  rebellion,  which 
stands  in  opposition  to  obedience ;  that  stupidity,  which 
stands  in  opposition  to  praise.  The  greatness  and  excel- 
lencies which  the  subjects  of  this  kingdom  are  eternally  to 
praise,  it  were  altogether  impossible  a  carnal  mind  should 
look  upon,  without  regretting  that  he  is  so  great,  to  whom 
they  are  so  little. 

4.  It  were  most  unsuitable  to  the  grants  and  privileges 
of  this  kingdom.  What  is  to  be  enjoyed  in  that  kingdom, 
can  never  be  enjoyed  but  upon  this  supposition,  that  they 
are  born  of  the  Spirit.  Think  of  the  present  privileges 
which  are  granted  to  the  subjects  of  this  kingdom: 

First,  They  are  brought  into  a  state  of  liberty.  He  who 
is  king  in  the  kingdom,  is  not  a  king  over  slaves,  but  a 
free  people;  and  irvdeed  their  freedom  does  consist  in  this, 
that  they  are  so  willingly  subject.  A  heathen  could  say 
so  mucVi,  speaking  in  reference  to  a  kingdom  which  God 


kSkrm.  III. 


IN  REFERENCE  TO  PARTICULAR  PERSONS. 


513 


governs,  according  to  his  apprehensions  of  it ;  In  regno  nati 
sunius :  Den servire,  regnare  est.  We  are  born  in  a  king'dom, 
or  into  a  kingdom,  so  it  had  been  fuller  to  this  purpose. 
There  are  none  come  into  this  kingdom,  without  being  born 
into  it,  or  attempered  and  suited  to  it.  And  he  supposes  the 
highest  privilege  of  being  in  this  kingdom  is,  in  being  sub- 
servient to  God;  "To  serve  God,"  says  he,  "that  is  to 
reign."  We  are  kings  in  this  kingdom,  rather  than  sub- 
jects, in  being  subject  to  him.  The  apostle  James  has  a 
magnificent  expression,  but  most  just,  and  not  stramed  ; 
the  law  which  we  are  required  to  obey,  he  calls  the  royal 
law  of  liberty,  chap.  i.  25,  28.  And  the  law  of  the  Spirit 
of  life  in  Christ  Jesus,  does  make  us  free  from  the  law  of 
sin  and  death,  Rom.  viii.  2.  The  felicity  and  duty  of  the 
subjects  in  this  kingdom  herein  meet  in  one  and  the  same 
point ;  for  whereas  it  is  their  duty  not  to  serve  sin,  'tis 
their  privilege  to  be  exempt  from  that  vile  servitude ;  and 
they  themselves  are  brought  to  resent  it  as  such  when  once 
the  law  of  the  Spirit  of  life  has  made  them  free.  Oh ! 
what  an  ease  is  it  to  have  the  yoke  thrown  off,  and  to  find 
a  man's  .spirits  so  disentangled,  as  to  be  able  to  say;  I  am 
not  restrained,  as  it  hath  sometimes  been,  from  the  love  and 
communion  of  the  blessed  God ;  I  am  not  depressed  and 
borne  down  towards  the  earth  as  heretofore,  when  I  should 
ascend  and  get  up  in  lively  affection  to  heaven.  It  is  a 
most  pleasant  thing  to  feel  liberty,  and  find  oneself  set 
free."  This  Spirit  by  which  persons  are  thus  born,  makes 
them  free  as  soon  as  they  are  born :  Where  the  Spirit  of 
the  Lord  is,  there  is  liberty:  i.e.  that  Spirit  which  refines 
and  transforms  from  glory  unto  glory;  as  the  connexion 
lie.s,  2  Cor.  iii.  17,  18.  How  inconsistent  therefore  must 
it  needs  be  with  those  v>'ho  remain  still  in  the  flesh  ;  for 
such  a  one  loves  the  bondage  which  it  is  a  privilege  to  be 
freed  from ;  and  takes  pleasure  in  his  chains,  and  is  proud 
of  them.  The  case  is  with  him  as  with  that  servant  con- 
cerning whom  the  supposition  is  made  in  the  law  of  Moses, 
that  he  should  so  love  his  master,  as  when  the  time  of  re- 
laxation came,  he  would  not  go  free.  The  Gospel  of 
Christ  is  the  ministration  of  the  Spirit,  by  which  souls  are 
begotten  unto  God  ;  and  whensoever  any  are  by  it  made 
sons,  they  are  made  free.  Therefore  we  read  of  this  liberty 
as  appropriate  to  the  sons  of  God  ;  for  we  are  not  to  sup- 
pose, that  God's  own  sons  should  be  slaves.  But  the 
bondage  of  slaves  is  preferred  by  carnal  hearts,  to  the 
liberty  of  sons  :  and  it  will  be  always  so  till  they  become 
sons ;  and  they  will  never  be  sons,  till  they  are  born  again, 
and  till  it  can  be  said  of  them,  there  is  something  produced 
in  them  which  is  spirit  born  of  the  Spirit. 

Again,  Tranquillity  is  a  great  privilege  belonging  to  this 
kingdom.  One  who  is  not  thus  born  of  the  Spirit  hath 
no  seed  or  principle  of  peace  in  himself  To  be  spiritually 
minded  is  life  and  peace,  and  this  kingdom  is  "  righteous- 
ness, and  peace,  and  joy,  in  the  Holy  Ghost."  But  they 
who  are  still  in  the  flesh,  and  not  born  of  the  Spirit,  have 
that  still  in  their  temper  and  constitution,  which  is  incon- 
sistent with  peace;  and  which,  if  we  should  suppose  com- 
monly to  obtain  in  that  kingdom,  would  as  much  shatter 
and  discompose  things  there,  as  we  find  peace  is  from 
time  to  time  disturbed  in  this  lower  world.  What  is  it 
which  hath  made  this  world  so  troublesome  a  region,  but 
only  the  carnality  of  itl  What  is  it  but  the  lusts  of  men, 
which  occasion  the  wars,  and  tumults,  and  commotions, 
which  fill  the  world  with  noise  and  blood  from  age  to  age  1 
It  would  even  be  ,so  above  too,  if  you  should  suppose  that 

Eessons  should  be  generally  brought  thither,  who  were  not 
orn  spirit  of  spirit. 
Lastly,  Communion  with  God  is  the  great  privilege  of 
the  subjects  of  this  kingdom;  in  some  degree  in  this  pre- 
sent state,  and  perfectly  in  the  perfect  state  of  that  king- 
dom. But  do  we  think  that  one  who  is  not  born  spirit  of 
spirit,  will  ever  care  to  converse  with  God  eternally  and 
always.  Alas  !  how  little  do  they  care  for  it  now  !  How 
little  do  they  love  the  Divine  presence  !  How  wearisome  a 
thing  is  an  hour's  attendance  upon  God,  in  a  duty,  to  a 
carnal  heart !  How  would  such  a  one  behave  himself,  to 
be  eternally  in  that  presence,  unto  which  he  is  so  averse ! 
Would  li  be  a  heaven  to  himi  Indeed  there  is  nothing 
"which  hath  made  hell  anj-^  where  but  sin  ;  and  if  it  were 
possible  that  sin  could  get  into  heaven,  it  would  create  a 
nell  there  ton. 


5.  It  would  be  most  unsuitable  to  the  community,  and 
all  the  fellow-subjects,  if  any  should  come  into  that  king- 
dom, who  were  not  thus  born.  It  was  evidently  the  design 
to  have  them  all  of  a  piece,  who  should  have  place  together, 
in  this  kingdom.  When  that  work  was  designed  to  be  sec 
on  foot  which  was  preparatory  and  fundamental  to  the  per- 
fect and  glorious  state  of  this  kingdom,  it  was  thought  fit 
that  he  who  sanctifieth  and  they  who  are  sanctified  should 
be  all  of  one,  (Heb.  ii.  II.)  i.  e.  all  reduced  to  conformity 
to  one  and  the  same  original.  He  himself  who  is  the  Me- 
diator, is  the  holy  and  just  One;  these  are  the  characters 
by  which  we  find  him  discriminately  mentioned;  and  all 
who  are  to  be  gathered  to  him,  must  all  be  one  with  him 
in  this  thing,  and  he  must  be  the  common  Sanctifier  of 
them  all;  that  is,  by  the  Spirit  by  which  they  are  thus 
begotten  and  born  ;  that  so  they  may  agree  and  be  suitable 
to  him.  And  being  so,  it  is  manifest,  there  must  be  the 
same  ground  and  medium  of  common  agreement  among 
all,  who  should  be  united  to  him  ;  if  they  must  all  be  made 
to  agree  to  him  who  is  holy,  it  cannot  be  but  they  must 
all  agree  to  one  another,  being  hol}^  and  sanctified  ones. 
Heaven  is  called  the  "  inheritance  of  them  who  are  sancti- 
fied ;"  and  certainly  the  communion  which  they  are  there 
to  have  with  one  another,  is  to  be  in  the  highest  and  per- 
fect sense  the  communion  of  saints.  And  it.  bein?  re- 
quisite that  there  should  be  an  agreement  and  oneness 
among  all  the  subjects  of  this  kingdom,  this  agreement 
was  not  to  be  brought  about,  considering  this  kingdom 
must  consist  of  persons  who  were  unlike,  but  by  reducing 
them  who  were  fallen  from  that  perfection  which  originally 
belonged  to  their  natures,  to  a  conformity  to  the  rest. 
Therefore  you  find  this  said  concerning  those  who  are  to 
be  adjoined  and  brought  into  it,  that  they  thereby  actually 
come  unto  the  general  assembly,  an  innumerable  company 
of  angels,  and  the  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect,  and  so 
constitute  and  make  up  the  church  of  the  first-born,  Heb. 
xii.  22,  23.  You  must  note  that  first-born  here  is  of  the 
plural  number,  and  so  it  signifies  a  church  consisting  of 
first-born  ones,  and  must  needs  have  reference  to  this  same 
birth  here  spoken  of  in  the  text.  It  was  not  otherwise 
possible,  that  there  should  be  an  agreement  or  conformity 
when  there  was  once  an  unlikeness  before,  but  by  reducing 
some  to  the  rest;  they  who  were  fallen  and  lapsed  from 
their  original  excellence,  to  a  conformity  to  them  who  stood. 
And  therefore  those  angels  who  stood,  remain  as  a  stand- 
ard and  pattern,  to  which  all  who  are  afterward  to  be  ad- 
joined to  this  kingdom  must  be  made  conformable.  As 
soon  as  thej'  are  got  into  the  account  of  first-born  ones,  or 
are  the  first-fruits  of  his  creatures,  (Jam.  i.  18.)  the  flower 
and  most  excellent  and  noble  part  of  his  creation;  they 
are  said  to  be  come  to  them.  The  church  made  up  of 
such,  in  conjunction  with  those  glorious  spirits,  the  angels 
who  stood,  comes  to  be  a  uniform  church  and  kingdom. 
But  if  they  should  not  be  so  conformed,  it  would  be  pre- 
judicial both  to  the  order  and  felicity  of  this  kingdom. 
How  both  uncomely  and  uncomfortable  a  thing,  if  there 
should  not  be  this  conformity  !  How  uncomely  would  it 
be,  that  there  should  be  some  in  this  kingdom  rejoicing  in 
the  excellency  and  glory  of  their  eternal  King,  and  some 
secretly  envying  him,  and  wishing  they  could  tell  how  to 
unking  him!  How  indecorous,  when  the  generality  are 
engaged  in  gladsome  triumphant  songsof  praise,  for  some 
to  lower  and  hang  the  head,  and  dislike  the  very  thing  for 
which  others  do  give  thanks  !  And  how  inconsistent  would 
it  be  with  the  felicity  of  the  subjects  of  that  kingdom,  that 
there  should  be  such  jars  and  discord  among  them  '.  Cer- 
tainly it  must  be,  and  could  not  but  be,  a  torture  and  tor- 
ment to  them ;  and  no  doubt  every  thing  of  that  kind  must 
be  excluded  heaven,  the  perfect  state  of  that  kingdom.  If 
there  should  be  any  one  found  there,  who  should  have  this 
for  his  known  sense ;  that  he  cannot  love  God,  or  like  his 
governiiient;  he  cannot  be  pleased  that  he  is  Lord  and 
Kin?,  it  couUl  not  but  be  a  torture  unto  the  rest.  When 
the  kingdom  is  resigned  by  the  Mediator  into  the  Father's 
hand,  (1  Cor.  xv.  24.)  and"  he  is  to  he  all  in  all ;  filling 
every •'^Tiil  with  his  fulness;  all  desires  and  wills  satiating 
and  satisfying  themselves  in  him:  in  the  midst  of  all  these 
pleasures,  it  could  not  but  be  a  tormenting  thing,  that  there 
should  be  any  who  can  take  no  felicity  in  him;  who  dis- 
like his  person,  and  wish  him  otf  the  throne ;   who  are 


51-1 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT 


Serm.  Ill 


offended  at  the  purity  of  that  state,  and  at  that  wherein  all 
the  rest  do  place  their  common  feliciiy.  It  would  be  very 
uncomely  and  uncomfortable  to  have  any  dissentions  in 
that  kingdom;  and  therefore  it  can  never  be  admitted,  and 
is  apparently  necessary,  that  whoever  comes  into  it  enter 
by  this  new  birth. 

6.  It  would  be  unsuitable  to  the  course  and  way  of  go- 
vernment in  this  kingdom,  whether  you  look  upon  it  in  its 
present,  or  future  or  perfect  state.  Consider  the  way  of 
government  in  this  present  state.  Why,  here  God  governs 
in  a  way  somewhat  suitable  to  the  methods  of  government 
by  men ;  that  is,  by  laws  and  public  edicts,  with  threats 
and  promises  inserted  into  them  ;  that  men  may  know 
what  they  are  to  do,  and  what  not;  and  what  they  are  to 
expect  by  way  of  reward  if  they  do  well,  and  what  by  way 
of  punishment,  if  they  do  amiss.  This  course  of  govern- 
ment is  suited  to  the  reasonable  nature  of  man,  and  does 
well  as  it  is  managed  by  some  men  over  others ;  because 
they  who  are  to  be  the  governed  part,  do  sensibly  perceive 
how  much  it  is  in  the  power  of  the  governing  part,  either 
to  do  them  good  or  hurt,  according  as  they  obey  or  rebel. 
So  that  men's  senses  are  in  this  case  their  instructors,  of 
how  great  concernment  it  is  to  conform  themselves  to  the 
laws;  and  how  dangerous  a  thing  to  attempt  the  violation 
of  them.  But  consider  how  these  same  methods  applied 
to  men  for  their  government,  by  an  invisible  Ruler,  can 
signify  in  this  case  ;  or  what  their  success  commonly  is. 
There  are  as  plain  proposals  of  the  law  of  God  to  men,  as 
any  can  be  by  earthly  rulers.  'Tis  impossible  that  human 
laws  can  be  made  plainer,  than  the  Divine  laws,  are  in 
many,  and  those  the  most  important,  cases.  The  great 
God  promises  infinitely  greater  things  than  any  mortal 
can  promise;  and  threatens  greater  things,  than  they  can  as- 
sume to  themselves  to  do.  But  what  do  all  these  things 
signify,  where  men  remain  still  in  the  flesh  1  His  laws  are 
plain,  and  his  promises  very  assured,  and  his  threatenings 
awful  and  monitory,  to  them  who  are  once  born  of  the 
Spirit,  and  have  got  somewhat  of  sense  and  life  about  them, 
and  can  perceive  things  which  are  above  the  common 
allay :  but  for  them  who  yet  remain  strangers  to  this  birth, 
and  upon  whom  the  Spirit  of  the  living  God  hath  done  no 
such  refining  work,  it  is  plain  that  such  men's  hearts  take 
no  impressions  from  the  plainest  discoveries  of  his  will. 
When  they  are  warned  of  the  danger  of  a  continued  course 
of  sin;  they  who  warn  them  are  like  them  who  mock; 
and  whatsoever  they  represent  from  the  Divine  promises 
of  the  blessed  state  of  holy  and  sincere  and  obedient  souls, 
is  all  but  like  a  tale  which  is  told.  These  methods  of  go- 
vernment, in  the  present  constitution  of  this  kingdom,  will 
not  suit  those  who  are  not  born  spirit  of  spirit,  and  till  that 
Spirit  come  forth  with  that  power,  and  in  that  operation, 
by  which  the  souls  of  men  are  begotten  to  spiritual  life. 
In  that  work  itself,  and  by  that  work,  the  Divine  precepts, 
and  promises,  and  threatenings,  come  to  be  successful  and 
effectually  applied;  but  never  else,  no  more  than  the  most 
express  human  laws,  with  the  addition  of  the  severest 
penalties,  or  promises  of  the  highest  rewards,  would  signi- 
fy to  a  multitude  of  dead  men. 

And  then  for  the  way  of  government  in  the  future  state 
of  this  kingdom,  and  when  it  arrives  to  its  perfect  state; 
there  we  must  suppose,  the  way  of  government  should  be, 
by  sweet  and  secret  intimations,  and  internal  irradiations, 
upon  receptive  minds  and  hearts;  such  elapses  by  which 
hidden  sense  is  conveyed,  even  in  a  moment,  so  as  that  all 
the  subjects  of  that  kingdom  are  to  obey,  as  it  were,  any 
wink,  or  nod,  or  glance  of  the  eye  ;  I  mean  any  such  inti- 
mations which  can  as  secretly  convey  the  sense  of  the  great 
Ruler,  as  they  do  commonly  among  us.  But  how  mani- 
fest is  it  that  there  must  be  a  great  refinedness  of  mind  and 
heart,  to  receive  those  gentle  touches  by  which  spirits  are 
in  a  moment  to  be  swayed  this  way  or  that.  One  who  is 
yet  a  composition  of  flesh,  and  not  born  of  the  Spirit,  how 
incapable  is  he  of  these  kind  impressions ;  these  touches 
which  are  to  come  by  so  gentle  a  hand  ;  these  so  insinu- 
ating ways,  by  which  God  is  lo  slide  into  the  very  spirits 
of  these  blessed  souls,  and  prompt  them  this  way  or  that 
as  he  pleases ! 

Lastly,  It  were  most  unsuitable  to  theunchangeableness 
and  perpetuity  of  this  kingdom,  that  any  should  be  ad- 
mitted into  it,  who  are  not  born  into  it,  or  made  spiritual 


as  the  constitution  of  it  is.     We  ought  in  all  reason  to 
think,  that  such  a  state  of  things  as  is  designed  for  per- 
petuity, and  never  to  be  changed,  must  be  mo.st  unexcep- 
tionably  perfect.     It  were  a  dismal  thought  that  this  king- 
dom should  be  at  once  both  eternal,  and  iAiperfect:  for 
then  if  it  were  imperfect  it  must  be  imperfect  always ;  and 
whatsoever  were  amiss  in   this  constitution  of  it,  would 
never  be  repaired,  or  altered.    This  kingdom,  though  it  is 
in  its  inchoate  estate,  yet  imperfect,  that  inchoate  state  is 
but  its  temporary  state,  which  will  soon  be  over  :  but  then 
there  must  be,  even  in  the  very  entrance  into  it,  an  entrance 
the  right  way ;  otherwise  the  case  will  be  like  an  error  in 
the  first  concoction,  which  is  never  cured  in  the  second; 
that  is,  it  must  be  by  being  born  spirit  of  spirit.     When 
any  one  comes  into  it,  he  comes  into  a  kingdom  which  is 
to  be  everlasting ;  and  so  whatever  there  should  be  of  ir- 
regularity and   imperfection  in   admitting  him  into  this 
kingdom,  it  would  be  an  unalterable  thing.    Substantially 
this  kingdom  can  never  be  altered:  grace  and  glory  do  not 
substantially  differ.    That  holiness,  which  the  saints  carry 
the  name  of  such  from,  while  they  are  here  on  earth,  is 
not  another  or  a  diverse  thing,  from  what  must  be  their 
eternal  character  above;  it  will  be  of  the  same  kind,  only 
much  more  perfect.     That  knowledge  of  God,  and  satis- 
faction in  God,  which  is  to  be  enjoyed  hereafter,  is  of  the 
same  kind  and  nature,  with  what  in  a  more  inferior  de- 
gree the   saints  partake  of  here ;  and  in  that  lower  de- 
gree  they  must  be  attempered  and  suited  in  their  very 
constitution:    otherwise    there    would    be   a  substantial 
difference  between  one  member  of  this  kingdom  and  an- 
other ;  and  which  were  never  to  be  altered,  but  must  last 
always ;  because  the  difference  which  is  to  be  made  be- 
tween the  present  and  future  state  of  this  kingdom,  is  not 
substantial,  but  gradual  only.     And  therefore  the  apostle 
argues  with  so  much  severity,  (Heb.  xii.)  when  he  had 
been  speaking  of  that  which  is  most  constituent  of  this 
kingdom,  "  an  innumerable  compan)'^  of  angels,  and  the 
spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect,"  all  making  up  together 
one  "  church   of  the  first-born   written  in  heaven  ;   We 
having,"  says  he,  "  received  a  kingdom  which  cannot  be 
shaken,  let  us  have  grace  to  serve  God  acceptably  with 
reverence  and  godly  fear;  for  our  God  is  a  consuming 
fire."  You  have  now  the  frame  and  model  of  this  kingdom 
brought  among  you,  which  is  never  to  be  shaken  ;  you  are 
to  account  therefore  that  God  will  make  thorough  work  in 
his  setting  up  this  kingdom ;  that  there  shall  be  no  flaws 
or  defects  to  be  found,  which  shall  be  incapable  of  remedy 
and  cure  afterwards.    He  never  intends  to  take  this  frame 
of  things  asunder  any  more,  but  that  it  shall  last  for  ever  ; 
and  therefore  expect  him  to  be  a  consuming  fire  about  this 
work;  he  is  not  to  be  dallied  with  now  he  hath  such  a 
work  as  this  in  his  hands;  therefore  look  that  you  carry  it 
acceptably  to  him,  with  reverence  and  godly  fear.    He  will 
show  himself  to  be  a  consuming  fire  in  the  managing  the 
work  of  his  kingdom,  and  the  setting  and  framing  that 
conslittUion  and  state  of  things  which  he  resolved  never 
should  be  shaken,  but  should  last  always.     And  the  very 
reason  of  the  thing  itself  doth   require  that  it  should  be 
so;  for  whatever  a  man  designs  for  a  long  continuance,  he 
would  be  most  accurately  curious  about.     That  which  he 
intends  only  for  a  day,  he  would  be  little  solicitous  how  it 
were  composed  and   framed ;  whether  there  were  such 
curiosity   and  similitude  of  parts,  yea  or  no;    but  that 
which  he  intends  to  be  a  lasting  and  permanent  thing,  that 
he  would   have   to   be  very  exact  at  first.     A  kingdom 
divided  against  itself   cannot  stand.     Do  we  think  that 
when  the  blessed  God  designed  a  perpetual  and  unshaken 
kingdom,  he  would  take  that  into  the  constitution  of  it,  by 
which  it  would  certainly  come  to  be  divided  against  itself; 
and  be  disagreeing  to  itself,  as  the  image  or  representation 
of  Nebuchadnezzar,  which  was  part  brass,  part  iron,  and 
part  clay  1  Surely  this  kingdom  must  be  another  kind  of 
constitution,  and  made  better  to  agree  with  itself,  inasmuch 
as  it  is  designed  to  be  unchangeable  and  everlasting. 

Thus  then  you  have  the  second  thing  demonstrated; 
the  necessity  of  being  born  of  the  Spirit  in  order  to  the 
having  place  in  the  kingdom  of  God.  It  lies  in  our  way 
here  to  reflect,  that  since  there  are  so  many  full,  clear,  co- 
gent, and  convictive  reasons  of  this  truth,  that  yet  there 
should  be  so  great  unaptness  and  slowness  in  the  spirits  of 


Serm.  IV. 


IN  REFERENCE  TO  PARTICULAR  PERSONS. 


515 


men,  to  receive  so  vast  a  truth  as  this.  Is  it  not  an  amazing 
thing,  that  whereas  truths  of  another  import,  as  soon  as 
they  appear  to  be  such,  are  presently  received,  and  without 
any  more  ado ;  and  if  they  are  understood  to  concern  us, 
they  are  commonly  received  with  suitable  affections  and 
impressions  upon  men's  minds  1  If  you  should  tell  a  man 
there  is  an  opportunity  of  an  advantageous  bargain;  if  he 
once  comes  to  believe  it  to  be  true,  he  not  only  assents  to 
it,  but  receives  it  with  correspondent  impressions  on  his 
will,  resolution,  and  affections;  it  influences  his  practice, 
and  he  goes  and  does  accordingly.  It  is  a  thing  most 
amazing,  when  we  consider  how  express  the  affirmation  is, 
and  how  plain  and  clear  the  reasons  are  ;  and  that  if  once 
it  be  acknowledged  a  truth,  it  cannot  but  be  acknowledged 
a  most  important  truth;  that  yet  we  so  commonly  hear  of 
such  matters,  just  as  we  hear  a  tale  which  is  told,  and  as 
if  it  were  all  one  to  us,  whether  it  were  true  or  false. 
What  would  we  think  necessary  to  beget  an  unwavering 
firm  persuasion  in  our  hearts,  that  such  a  thing  is  true  1 
Why  certainly  the  concurrence  of  testimony  and  plain 
reason  together,  carry  as  much  as  our  hearts  can  wish  in 
order  to  the  clearing  of  whatsoever  truth.  Here  is  the 
express  word  of  the  Lord  of  this  kingdom ;  for  'tis  the 
kingdom  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  as  well 
as  the  kingdom  of  God.  Now  you  will  look  upon  it  as  the 
greatest  vanity  and  madness  imaginable  for  any  to  promise 
himself  an  interest  and  share  in  the  blessedness  of  that 
kingdom,  against  the  express  word  of  the  Lord  of  it. 
Pray,  by  what  right  should  you  come  into  it,  if  the  Lord 
and  King  will  not  admit  you  1  Or  by  what  power  1  Where 
is  your  right  if  he  deny  your  right  1  Where  is  your  power 
to  evade  or  oppose,  if  he  resist  and  withstand  you  1  If 
there  were  no  more  in  the  business,  this  were  enough,  he 
hath  spoken  it,  and  ratified  it  by  the  seal  of  his  own 
Amen.  Verily,  verily  I  say  unto  you:  I  do  assever  it  to 
you  ;  I  assert  it  to  you  with  all  the  peremptoriness  ima- 
ginable. What  should  become  of  that  man's  soul,  or 
what  can  we  think  of  his  persuasion,  who  is  persuaded 
against  the  real  word  of  the  Lord  of  this  kingdom,  that  he 
shall  have  place  in  it  1  The  reason  of  the  thing  is  so  con- 
victive  and  manifest,  that  nothing  can  be  more.  You  may 
as  well  think  of  making  a  composition  of  ligh-t  and  dark- 
ness, fire  and  water,  of  the  most  inconsistent  things ;  as  to 
bring  flesh  and  spirit  together  into  the  composition  oi  this 
kingdom. 


SERMON  IV.* 

The  truth  we  have  m  hand  is  this ; — That  there  is  a 
work  to  be  done  upon  all  who  partake  in  the  kingdom  of 
God,  by  which  they  are  to  be  bom  spirit  of  spirit. — We 
have  spoken  of  this  doctrinally  at  large  ; — the  Use  of  it  is 
now  before  us.  And  that  which  I  have  first  to  take  notice 
of,  as  a  reflection  which  cannot  but  be  of  very  great  and 
common  use,  is,  that  since  this  is  so  plain  and  evident  a 
truth,  it  is  exceeding  strange  that  it  should  not  more  com- 
monly and  visibly  obtain  in  the  belief  of  those  who  profess 
themselves  Christians.  So  important  a  truth  believed, 
could  not  but  infer  that  that  belief  would  be  visible  in  the 
practice ;  and  so  evident  a  truth,  one  would  think,  men 
should  not  stick  to  believe.  Wherefore  there  are  these 
two  heads,  I  think  might  be  worth  our  while  to  discourse 
to  you: — 1.  To  let  you  see  that  it  is  but  too  visible  this 
truth  is  not  believed  by  the  generality  of  professed  Chris- 
tians.— 2.  To  show  the  unreasonableness  of  men's  disbelief 
in  reference  thereunto. 

1.  I  am  to  show  that  this  truth  is  not  believed  by  the  ge- 
nerality of  those  who  call  themselves  Christians.  And  that 
I  may  speak  more  clearly  and  distinctly,  it  will  be  requisite 

1.  To  tell  you  what  I  mean  by  their  not  believing  this 
truth  ;  and  then — 2.  Show  you  that  men  do  not  believe  it. 

1st,  What  is  intended  by  this  charge  upon  the  generality 
of  persons  professing  Christianity  1  Here  it  will  be  ne- 
cessary to  say  something  to  you, — concerning  the  object, 
or  truth,  which  is  not  believed  ;  and — 2.  Something  con- 
•■  Preached  December  26tli,  1677,  at  Cordwainor's  Hall. 


cerning  the  nature  of  that  belief  which,  we  complain,  is 
wanting  in  reference  thereunto.  Concerning  the  object, 
it  is  requisite  you  understand  that  we  mean  this  truth  taken 
entirely,  and  so  as  to  comprehend  together  the  several 
things  which  are  contained  in  it.  As  for  instance, — 1. 
That  there  is  a  change  necessary  to  be  wrought  in  the 
spirits  of  men — 2.  That  this  change  must  be  so  great  and 
entire  upon  their  spirits  as  to  amount  to  another  birth,  or 
being  born  of  the  Spirit — 3.  That  God  hath  such  a  work 
and  design  in  hand,  as  the  constitution  of  a  new  kingdom 
of  obedient  and  happy  subjects ;  such  as  shall  willingly 
obey,  and  gladly  and  joyfully  partake  and  communicate 
with  him  in  the  glory  and  blessedness  of  this  kingdom,  and 
— 4.  That  there  is  no  other  way  of  entrance  inio  this 
kingdom  but  by  being  so  born  and  connaturalized  thereto. 
All  these  things  are  evidently  contained  in  this  doctrine. 
Now  it  is  constantly  acknowledged,  when  you  put  some 
one  or  other  of  these  things  single  to  a  person,  who,  it  may 
be,  hath  never  3'et  admitted  a  serious  thought  of  it;  it  is 
likely  he  will  say,  "Yes,  this  is  true."  But  it  doth  mani- 
festly appear,  that  he  hath  never  digested  the  system  and 
frame  of  such  truths,  as  they  lie  together,  and  do  amount 
to  this  sum.  And  indeed  that  is  one  great  fault  m  the 
common  faith  of  persons  professing  Christianity,  that  it  is 
a  partial  faith  ;  they  believe  this  and  that  particular  truth, 
they'll  tell  you,  taken  asunder  from  the  rest :  but  consider 
such  and  such  truths  as  they  are  a  part  in  the  general  sj's- 
tem  of  Christian  truths;  and  so  it  is  most  apparent,  that 
they  are  not  received  and  taken  in.     And, 

2.  Suppose  any  have  never  so  distinct  thoughts  and  ap- 
prehensions of  the  truths  of  the  Gospel ;  those  in  particu- 
lar which  this  truth  sums  up ;  yet  the  faith  of  most  who 
profess  the  Christian  name,  it  is  plain,  is  quite  another 
thing,  in  the  nature  of  it,  than  what  really  and  truly  we 
ought  to  reckon,  the  belief  of  the  Christian  doctrine.  I  do 
not  intend,  when  I  say  these  things  are  not  believed,  that 
men  professing  Christianity  are  arrived  to  an  explicit 
disbelief,  or  that  they  reckon  themselves  unbelievers,  or 
profess  infidelity  in  this  matter  ;  or  that  there  is  no  such 
thing  as  a  real  assent  unto  such  truths  as  this.  But  there 
is  not  that  assent  which,  according  to  the  strictness  of  the 
Scripture  notion,  we  ought  to  put  the  name  of  belief  upon  ; 
that  is,  they  don't  take  it  upon  the  authority  of  the  great 
God,  as  a  thing  rcA^ealed  from  heaven  to  them,  that  it  is 
necessary  they  undergo  such  a  transforming  change  in 
their  own  spirits,  in  order  to  their  having  place  in  this 
kingdom ;  this  is  not  received  on  the  authority  of  God, 
and  so  as  accordingly  to  influence  their  hearts  and  prac- 
tice. Which  if  it  doth  not  do,  it  doth  nothing  ;  and  which 
if  it  be  not  apt  to  do,  it  is  not  that  faith  which  the  Scripture 
intends. 

This  then  is  that  which  we  are  to  make  out,  from  seve- 
ral considerations.     As, 

1.  That  the  Scripture  doth  commonly  attribute,  or  gives 
intimation  by  which  we  are  taught  to  attribute  the  inefii- 
cacy  of  the  Gospel  doctrine,  to  men's  disbelief  of  it,  or  their 
not  believing.  As  that  passage  of  the  apostle,  wherein  he 
quotes  the  prophet  Isaiah,  Rom.  x.  16.  They  have  not  all 
obeyed  the  Gospel,  for  Esaias  saith.  Who  hath  believed 
our  report  1  They  have  not  all  obeyed  ;  and  why  "?  Be- 
cause Isaiah  saith,  they  have  not  believed.  The  things 
which  the  Gospel  requires  as  matter  of  duty,  by  the  pre- 
cepts of  it,  would  be  comported  with,  and  obeyed,  if  the 
truth  of  them  were  believed.  They  are  not  believed  ;  and 
how  is  that  demonstrated!  Why  they  are  not  obeyed.  So 
we  are  told  of  the  scoffers  who  woitki  be  in  the  last  days; 
and  there  is  nothing  in  the  days  in  which  we  live,  more 
scoffed  at  than  the  Spjirit,  and  this  work  of  the  Spirit  upon 
the  souls  of  men  ;  who  would  walk  after  their  own  lusts, 
saying,  Where  is  the  promise  of  his  coming?  2  Pet.  iii.  4. 
Because  they  don't  believe  the  great  things  contained  in 
the  Gospel,  therefore  they  scofl^,  and  therefore  they  indulge 
themselves  in  all  ungodliness.  We  are  told,  that  the  Gos- 
pel is  the  power  of  God  unto  salvation  to  every  one  who 
believes,  Rom.  i.  16.  Which  plainly  intimates,  tliat  it 
signifies  nothing  with  them  who  believe  not.  With  them 
who  believe  it  is  a  mighty  powerful  thing;  but  with  them 
who  believe  it  not,  it  effects  nothing;  there  'tis  weak  and 
impotent.     So  again  we  are  told  by  the  apostle,  1  Thes."?, 


516 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT 


Serm.  IV 


ii.  13.  that  these  Thessalonians,  when  he  first  came  among 
them,  received  the  word,  not  as  the  word  of  man,  but. as 
the  word  of  God,  which  workelh  etfectually  in  them  who 
believe.  It  hath  a  most  efiectual  work,  where  it  is  believed  ; 
and  wheresoever  therefore  it  is  inefTectua],  and  there  are 
no  suitable  impressions  to  be  found  upon  men's  spirits, 
there  it  is  manifest  it  is  not  believed.  And  2  Thess.  ii.  13. 
We  are  bound  to  give  thanks  to  God  always  for  you,  bre- 
thren ;  for  God  hath  chosen  you  to  salvation  through  sanc- 
tification  of  the  Spirit  and  belief  of  the  truth.  Which 
plainly  implies,  that  the  truth  wherever  it  is  believed,  is 
accompanied  with  the  sanctifying  impressions  and  in- 
fluences of  the  Spirit ;  and  it  can't  be  understood  to  be  be- 
lieved where  it  is  not  so.     And, 

2.  Consider  further,  that  the  nature  of  the  thing  itself  is 
such,  and  so  nearly  and  directly  concerns,  and  tends  to  in- 
fluence the  practice,  that  it  is  not  possible  it  can  be  truly 
believed,  if  it  is  not  believed  practically.  We  are  to  con- 
sider a  vast  ditference  between  such  kind  of  assents,  which 
are  conversant  about  truths,  all  the  design  whereof  is  com- 
passed and  attained,  as  soon  as  we  have  spoken  them;  and 
those  which  have  a  further  design ;  that  is,  to  guide  and 
govern  a  man's  practice,  this  way  or  that.  Sure  it  is  a  far 
other  kind  of  assent  that  I  am  to  give,  for  example,  to  this 
truth  ;  that  such  a  thing  is  poison,  and  would  destroy  my 
life ;  such  a  thing  is  useful  for  food,  and  would  preserve 
my  life ;  than  if  I  give  to  this,  that  the  sun  is  so  many  hun- 
dred times  bigger  than  the  earth.  The  reason  is,  that  that 
doth  no  way  concern  my  practice,  and  'tis  no  matter  how 
superficial  an  assent  I  give  it ;  but  the  other  are  things  which 
concern  my  practice,  and  if  I  do  not  believe  them  suitably, 
and  with  a  practical  belief,  I  might  as  soon  eat  the  poison 
as  the  food.  It  is  incompatible  with  the  nature  of  these 
things,  that  they  should  be  or  can  be  believed  truly,  if  they 
are  not  believed  practically;  and  so  as  to  influence  the 
heart,  and  direct  the  course;  so  far  as  that  I  never  satisfy 
myself  with  knowing,  that  men  are  to  be  born  spirit  of 
spirit,  but  drive  at  this,  to  be  myself  so  born.  Otherwise 
it  is  the  most  manifest  thing  in  all  the  world,  that  I  turn 
this  great  important  truth,  which  most  nearly  concerns  me, 
to  a  thing  of  mere  impertinency  to  myself.     Again, 

3.  It  is  not  consistent  with  the  nature  of  a  man,  tho- 
roughly to  believe  a  thing  to  be  true,  and  yet  altogether  to 
be  unconcerned  about  it;  supposing  the  thing  in  its  own 
nature  such  as  does  nearly  touch  some  grand  concernment 
one  way  or  other.  There  are  two  things  I  would  remark 
to  you  concerning  the  nature  of  man:  the  one  is,  that  it  is 
capable  of  having  some  prospect  of  what  is  future  ;  it  is 
not  confined  to  only  present  things,  as  it  is  with  the  brutal 
nature.  The  other  is,  that  it  is  incapable  of  being  indiffer- 
ent about  happiness  and  misery.  The  nature  of  man  is 
capable  of  having  a  prospect  of  futurity,  or  somewhat  be- 
yond the  present  time.  His  rational  nature  doth  in  this 
differ  from  a  brute  creature,  that  whereas  that  is  confined 
only  to  the  present,  and  can  have  no  prospect  of  what  is  fu- 
ture; men,  as  their  own  experience  may  tell  them,  have  a 
prospect  of  what  is  future,  and  may  befall  them  to-morrow, 
or  the  next  day,  or  what  may  be  a  year  hence,  and  what 
they  are  then  to  do.  They  have  a  foresight  of  what  maybe 
an  advantage  or  disadvantage  to  them  in  future  time.  But 
then  it  is  incapable  of  being  indifferent  whether  things 
should  be  well  or  ill  with  them,  supposing  they  do  indeed 
believe  what  they  have  some  prospect  of  Suppose  you 
hear  such  a  one  intends  to  kill  you  to-morrow,  and  have 
your  blood  ;  it  is  inconsistent  with  the  nature  of  a  man  to 
be  so  far  unconcerned,  as  altogether  to  be  indifferent,  whe- 
ther his  life  be  destroyed  to-morrow  or  no.  But  according 
as  he  believes  or  disbelieves  the  report,  so  he  will  be  con- 
cerned or  unconcerned  about  it.  Nothing  can  be  more  evi- 
dent. Wherefore  it  must  necessarily  also  be,  that  according 
as  men  believe  or  disbelieve  what  hath  that  aspect  upon 
their  future  eternal  states,  either  that  upon  .such  terms  they 
shall  have  place  in  the  kingdom  of  God,  or  be  excluded 
and  shut  out  for  ever;  it  is  altogether  impossible,  if  men 
do  really  believe  what  is  said  to  them  concerning  these 
things,  that  they  should  be  so  indifferent,  v^hether  they  be 
happy  or  miserable  throughout  a  vast  and  immense  eter- 
nity, as  to  have  no  care  or  concern  about  the  matter.     I  add, 

4.  That  the  common  unconcernedness  about  such  things, 
is  not  to  be  resolved  into  any  thing  else,  but  their  unbe- 


lief. I  shall  here  more  distinctly  labour  lo  evince  to  you 
these  two  things, — 1.  That  men  are  very  generally  uncon- 
cerned about  those  things  which  this  truth  hath  relation 
to;  their  spiritual  and  eternal  states. — 2.  That  this  their 
imconcernedness  is  otherwise  unaccountable. 

1.  That  they  are  unconcerned  is  too  apparent  from  sun 
dry  considerations :  as, 

1.  That  they  are  so  little  inquisitive,  whether  this  great 
transforming  change  hath  passed  upon  their  spirits,  yea  or 
no.  I  understand  there  is  a  great  necessity  of  being  born 
spirit  of  spirit.  What  would  more  naturally  ensue,  if  this 
were  believed,  than  to  say.  Am  I  so  born  1  Or  what  is  it 
to  be  so  born  1  Do  I  find  any  specimen  or  discovery  of 
such  a  work  wrought  in  myself  1  While  there  are  so  few 
who  ever  give  themselves  the  trouble  of  such  inquiries, 
certainly^  there  is  a  very  great  unconcernedness  about  the 
matter,  and  such  as  doth  manifestly  bespeak  the  disbelief 
that  there  is,  or  needs  to  be,  any  such  thing.     And, 

2.  That  men  so  easily  take  the  matter  for  granted,  and 
are  so  easily  satisfied.  Certainly,  if  there  were  that  deep 
concern  which  the  exigence  and  importance  of  the  matter 
requires,  men  would  not  be  very  easy  to  admit  of  satisfac- 
tion in  the  case,  and  soon  and  slightly  pass  it  over;  and 
think  they  have  done  enough  when  they  have  asked  the 
question,  though  it  be  answered  they  can't  tell  how.  If 
they  have  thought  it  probable,  the  thought  yet  would  again 
and  again  return  ;  But  am  I  sure  1  Is  this  to  be  born 
spirit  of  spirit,  and  am  I  thus  born?  They  Avould  never 
think  they  could  be  too  sure,  or  that  enough  could  be  done 
to  make  the  matter  sure. 

3.  That  it  is  a  thing  so  little  insisted  upon  in  prayer, 
among  persons  who  profess  the  Christian  name,  that  God 
would  give  his  Spirit  for  this  purpose ;  at  least  that  the 
hearts  of  people  so  little  go  out  in  any  such  petitions  and 
requests  to  God.  If  it  should  be  asked  them  who  allow 
prayer  to  have  any  place  in  their  practice,  Which  way  do 
your  hearts  work  most  in  prayer?  If  they  were  to  give  an 
account  of  the  .sense  of  their  hearts,  would  it  not  be  this; 
"  Lord,  grant  me  what  appears  desirable  to  me  in  this 
world;  that  I  may  have  my  carnal  desires  satisfied  to  the 
full  ?"  But  who  insists  with  importunity  and  earnestness 
upon  this  great  thing?  "  Lord,  whatsoever  thou  grantest 
or  deniest,  grant  me  thy  Spirit :  let  me  be  miserable,  and 
reduced  to  poverty  and  beggary;  let  me  wander  up  and 
down  in  the  want  of  all  things;  but  give  me  thy  Spirit." 
Oh !  what  loud  and  importunate  cries  would  there  be  for 
the  Spirit,  if  this  doctrine  were  believed  !  But  God  may 
withhold  many  things  from  men  much  more  to  their  dis- 
pleasure and  dissatisfaction,  than  his  Spirit,  and  about 
which  they  would  much  more  sensibly  complain ;  take 
away  their  estates  and  relations,  and  they  complain  and 
cry  for  them ;  but  he  may  withdraw  or  withhold  his  Spirit, 
and  they  can  go  years  together,  and  never  complain  or  feel 
themselves  grieved  at  it.  The  very  execution  of  the  threat- 
ening does  not  make  them  uneasy:  "  My  Spirit  shall  not 
strive."  It  doth  not  strive  with  many  from  day  to  da)', 
and  year  to  year ;  and  yet  it  doth  not  make  them  com- 
plain. This  is  too  plain  an  argument,  that  it  is  not  be- 
lieved that  there  is  a  necessity,  in  order  to  the  entering 
into  God's  kingdom,  to  be  born  of  the  Spirit. 

4.  That  men  arj  so  little  in  expectation,  and  no  more 
generally  in  a  waiting  posture,  for  the  Spirit  when  they 
hear  of  it.  How  few  are  there  who  are  in  such  expecta- 
tions, day  by  day,  more  than  they  who  wait  for  the  morn- 
ing !  Oh  !  "when  shall  this  Spirit  come  ?  When  shall  the 
happy  hour  be  of  its  sensible  appearance  in  my  dead  and 
forlorn  soul  ?  When  they  hear,  that  Spirit  is  as  the  wind 
which  blowetli  where  it  listeth ;  how  few  are  ready  to  say. 
Oh!  when  shall  I  find  its  breathings  upon  me?  When 
will  it  reach  me  ?  When  shall  I  feel  some  of  its  powerful 
influences  and  refreshing  gales  ? 

5.  That  men  are  so  little  afraid  of  resisting  the  Spirit, 
and  of  giving  it  offence  and  provocation ;  so  as  that  God 
should  penally  retract  or  withhold  it.  Certainly  if  this 
doctrine  were  believed,  men  would  be  in  a  ver}'^  great  dread 
upon  this  account ;  they  would  tremble  to  think  of  the  pos- 
sibility or  danger  of  giving  that  distate  by  neglects,  and 
resistance  to  the  Spirit  of  grace,  as  to  make  it  retire,  not 
knowing  whether  ever  it  would  return.     Again, 

6.  That  the  thoughts  of  this  concernment  do  no  more 


Serm.  V. 


IN  REFERE^'CE  TO  PARTICULAR  PERSONS. 


517 


mingle  with  men's  affairs,  in  which  they  employ  them- 
selves here  under  the  sun  ;  and  not  more  check  their  too 
impetuous  pursuit  of  their  worldly  designs,  which  their 
hearts  are  so  ever  intent  upon.  It  this  doctrine  were  in- 
deed believed,  ii  could  not  surely  be,  but  that  many  times 
in  the  midst  of  secular  business,  such  thoughts  would  come 
in ;  But  am  I  yet  born  of  the  Spirit  1  All  that  I  do  is  mere 
idle  trifling  impertinency  when  I  don't  yet  know,  whether 
I  am  so  much  as  alive,  in  order  to  heaven  and  God's  king- 
dom, and  the  eternal  state  which  is  before  me.  How  sel- 
dom throughout  the  day  can  any  such  thoughts  be  crowded 
into  the  minds  of  men  !  Surely  it  would  be  a  great  check 
to  the  heat  of  their  pursuits  after  the  things  of  the  M'orld, 
if  such  thoughts  did  but  now  and  then  strike  in;  and  they 
could  not  but  strike  in  often,  if  the  matter  were  indeed 
thoroughly  believed  j  "  I  must  be  so  born  inio  lieaven,  or 
buried  in  all  the  darkness  and  misery  of  hell  for  ever." 

7.  If  men  were  so  concerned  about  this  matter  as  the 
thorough  belief  of  it,  one  would  think,  should  infer;  such 
thoughts  must  needs  be  a  very  great  allay  to  the  pleasure 
and  sweetness  of  their  sensual  enjoyments.  When  they 
are  relaxing  themselves  to  pleasure,  and  allowing  them- 
selves the  liberty  of  excursions  into  this  or  that  kind  of 
sensual  delight ;  certainly  they  could  not  so  freely  enjoy 
the  creatures  themselves,  if  it  were  considered;  "I  am 
yet  at  a  very  great  uncertainty  whether  the  divine  life 
hath  any  place  in  my  soul  or  no ;  whether  the  great  work 
of  the  new  creation  hath  any,  so  much  as  the  least,  begin- 
nings in  me  V  Alas,  what  an  infusion  would  this  be  of 
gall  and  wormwood,  of  bitterness  and  death,  into  whatso- 
ever sensual  delights,  which  would  utterly  spoil  the  sweet- 
ness of  them ;  if  it  were  believed  that  it  is  necessary  to 
be  thus  born  ;  and  yet  that  it  is  uncertain  whether  we  are 
thus  born  ! 

And  pray  then,  what  can  we  resolve  this  unconcern ed- 
ness  into,  which  is  the  other  thing  under  this  head ;  but 
their  disbelief,  and  that  they  want  a  thorough  persuasion 
of  this  truth,  that  I  must  be  so  born,  or  perish  1  For  think 
of  what  else  we  would  resolve  it  into.  Is  it  the  obscurity 
of  the  matter,  and  that  it  is  merely  an  unintelligible  thing  1 
But  why  is  this  unintelligible,  that  there  is  a  work  neces- 
sary to  be  wrought  upon  the  spirits  of  men  by  the  Spirit 
of  God,  to  render  them  suitable  to  God,  and  capable  of 
blessedness  in  him  "?  Indeed  what  can  we  think  of  that  is 
plainer,  if  we  consider  the  common  state  of  men,  and  the 
present  temper  of  their  spirits  1  and  how  apparently  ne- 
cessary it  is,  that  their  spirits  must  be  of  another  temper, 
in  order  to  their  being  happy ;  and  that  there  is  nothing  to 
be  done  in  this  kind,  but  by  a  proportionable  cause  ;  and 
that  such  an  effect  doth  manifes -ly  challenge  to  be  wrought 
by  such  a  cause  1  They  are  to  be  changed  by  the  dispen- 
sation of  the  Gospel  from  glory  unto  glory ;  where  the  pro- 
gressive work  is  spoken  of,  of  the  same  nature  and  kind 
with  that  whereof  we  are  speaking  :  even  as  by  the  Spirit 
of  the  Lord,  2  Cor.  iii.  18.  That  as  does  not  signify  siaii- 
litude  but  identity  :  the  work  must  be  such  as  may  plainly 
and  evidently  speak  its  own  author  ;  or  so  as  that  it  may 
be  peremptorily  concluded, — this  is  a  work  so  very  agree- 
able to  tl)e  Spirit  of  God,  that  nothing  but  the  Spirit  of 
God  could  have  done  it.  Now  the  Spirit  of  God  hath 
wrought  like  itself,  and  worthy  of  itself ;  and  what  it,  and 
it  only,  could  do.  'Tis  true  indeed  that  the  nature  of  the 
work,  and  all  the  several  parts  of  it,  and  the  way  of  work- 
ing, may  be  very  much  unknown  things  to  persons  as  yet 
unexperienced.  But  that  there  is  such  a  work  necessary 
to  be  done,  by  which  the  spirits  of  men  are  to  be  changed, 
and  that  the  Spirit  of  God  only  can  do  it,  I  know  nothing 
can  be  pretended  more  intelligible  than  this  ;  or  why,  at 
least,  it  should  with  anj^  tolerable  or  colourable  pretence 
be  said  to  be  an  unintelligible  thing.  'Tis  not  because 
men  cannot  understand  this,  but  because  the}''  have  no 
mind  to  believe  it  and  admit  the  truth  about  it  into  their 
hearts,  that  they  are  so  little  willing  of.  Or  is  it,  that  the 
thing  is  inconsiderable,  and  not  worthy  of  their  regard  1 
No  man  who  hath  not  abjured  his  understanding,  can  have 
the  face  to  say  so.  What  can  concern  me  more,  than 
whether  I  have  a  station  in  God's  kingdom,  or  not  1  where 
the  state  is  such  as  includes  and  comprehends  the  whole  of 
that  felicity  and  blessedness,  which  an  intelligent  nature 
*  Preac':ed  Jan.  9tl),  1677,  at  Cordwainer's  Hall. 

37 


is  capable  of,  and  being  excluded  that  kingdom,  is  to  be  ex- 
cluded blessedness,  and  left  a  miserable  creature  for  everl 
certainly  no  man  who  hath  not  abandoned  man,  and  put 
off  himself,  but  must  acknowledge  this  to  be  the  greatest 
concernment  to  him  of  all  others ;  and  that  therefore  he 
is  not  unmoved  and  unaffected,  with  this  matter,  because 
he  thinks  it  inconsiderable  and  not  worth  his  regard.  The 
business  therefore  still  returns  hiiher,  that  it  is  not  be- 
lieved :  men  wuU  not  believe  it,  and  therefore  they  are  not 
concerned. 

Thus  far  you  see,  that  there  is  too  plain  evidence  that 
this  doctrine  is  not  believed.  The  next  thing  would  be  to 
show  the  unreasonableness  of  this  disbelief  It  might  well 
astonish  our  hearts  to  think  what  there  is  of  malignity  and 
horror  in  this  belief  among  them  who  professedly  own 
that  this  revelation  is  from  God ;  but  yet,  it  is  manifest' 
all  the  while,  that  they  do  not  believe  it:  or  that  ever  it 
should  enter  into  the  heart  of  a  creature  capable  of  under- 
standing its  own  rise  and  original  from  the  ever  blessed 
God,  to  doubt,  or  dispute,  or  deny  so  plain  and  manifest 
a  revelation  from  him  as  this.  The  case  arrives  to  this 
state,  and  we  cannot  give  it  a  more  favourable  one,  as  if 
such  a  person  should  say  to  the  great  God,  the  Lord  of 
heaven  and  earth,  "  I  take  thee  to  have  spoken  by  thy  own 
Son,  such  and  such  words  to  men,  but  I  do  not  believe 
them."  This  it  plainly  comes  to.  He  hath  said,  that  men 
must  be  born  again,  or  they  can  never  come  into  the  king- 
dom of  God ;  and  if  such  persons  would  say,  what  is  in 
their  hearts,  they  must  say  too.  We  do  not  believe  it.  The 
matter  comes  to  a  direct  and  flat  contradiction,  a  practica. 
one,  and  which  is  more  and  worse  than  a  verbal  one,  be- 
tween them  and  the  great  Lord  and  Founder  of  this  king- 
dom :  as  if  they  better  knew  the  mind  of  God  in  this  mat- 
ter, than  his  own  Son,  who  came  out  of  his  bosom;  or 
better  understood,  who  were  to  be  of  God's  kingdom,  and 
who  not,  than  he  into  whose  hands  the  management  of  all 
the  affairs  of  this  kingdom  is  put.  Certainly  when  ibis 
matter  comes  to  be  discussed,  w^e  shall  find  it  impossible 
to  pitch  upon  an)'  thing  in  our  own  thoughts  which  carries 
more  of  monstrosity  and  horror  in  it,  than  the  disbelief 
of  such  a  truth. 


SERMON  v.* 

We  have  insisted  upon  this  subject  doctrinally  at  large, 
and  made  some  entrance  upon  the  use.  That  which  we 
have,  in  the  first  place,  inferred,  is;  That  this  being  so 
evident  and  important  a  truth,  it  is  veiy  strange  it  should 
not  be  more  generally  believed  among  Christians,  than 
apparently  it  is.  We  have  showed  that  generally  it  is  not 
believed,  in  the  last  exercise;  and  are  now  to  show, 

Secondly,  The  great  unreasonableness  and  perversity  of 
this  disbelief  in  reference  to  this  great  important  truth. 
We  insist  the  longer  and  more  distinctly  upon  this  use, 
because  it  is  the  use  which  our  Lord  himself  makes  of  his 
discourse,  upon  this  subject,  as  j'ou  may  see  in  the  llih 
and  12th  ver.ses,  which  I  shall  have  occasion  to  consider 
and  open  afterwards.  The  great  unreasonableness  of  not 
believing  this  truth  will  appear,  if  j'ou  consider — 1.  How 
much  is  to  be  said  for  it — 2.  How  very  little  and  insigni- 
ficant any  thing  is,  which  can  be  said  against  it. 

1.  Consider  how  much  is  to  be  said  for  it,  and  hath  in 
part  been  said.  As  much  surely  as  any  considering  per- 
son would  think  necessary  to  recommend  a  thing  lo  his 
belief  which  he  did  not  know  before.  I  would  appeal  to 
men,  what  would  they  expect  1  Or  wliat  condition  would 
they  require  any  such  thing  to  be  qualified  with,  which 
they  would  think  to  be  a  competently  credible  object  of 
their  belief  1  What  would  ihey  say  is  necessary  1  What 
suppositions  would  they  make  1  If  you  had  a  voice  from 
heaven,  or  an  angel  sent  lo  you  on  purpose ;  or  if  Christ 
himself  should  appear  and  speak  these  words  to  you,  as 
he  did  to  Nicodemus ;  then  you  wouAl  believe.  Even 
they  who  say  so  would  soon  find,  if  God  should  make  such 
trials  with  them,  it  would  be  to  as  little  purpose,  a.*   to 


518 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT 


Serm.  V. 


clothe  it  with  the  evidence  wherewith  he  doth  recommend 
it.  For  you  see,  though  our  Lord  himself  did  speak  these 
things  to  Nicodemus,  yet  he  hath  cause  to  complain  of 
infidelity  still.  But  what,  is  not  a  thing  sufficiently  cre- 
dible without  such  a  recommendation  as  this  1  Or  is  it  not 
a  most  unreasonable  extravagance  to  say,  "  Except  our- 
selves, wnth  our  own  eyes,  see  signs  and  wonders,  we  will 
not  believe  1"  What,  have  you  a  vision  and  voice  for  every 
thing  you  believe  which  you  don't  see  with  your  own 
eyes  1  Let  it  be  considered  what  we  have  to  assure  us  of 
this  great  truth. 

L  ~We  have  the  plain  reasonableness  of  the  thing  itself: 
which  will  appear  by  laying  together  these  several  consi- 
derations, 

L  That  the  kingdom  of  God  imports  a  state  of  perfect 
lelicity  in  the  highest  notion  of  that  kingdom  ;  or  a  state 
of  preparation  thereto,  or  gradual  tendency  thitherward, 
in  the  first  or  lower  notion  of  it.  This  is  a  thing  plain  and 
obvious  to  all  our  thoughts,  that  the  kingdom  of  God  im- 
ports a  state  of  persons  either  perfectly  happy  already,  or 
else  tending  to  a  state  of  happiness. 

2.  Consider  that  such  who  are  no  way  within  the  com- 
pass of  this  kingdom,  are  not  happy  as  yet.  Look  upon 
any  man  in  his  natural  state,  and  any  one  will  soon  ac- 
knowledge, I  am  not  happy  as  yet.  I  appeal  to  your  own 
senses,  and  to  the  common  sense  of  men,  can  you  say, 
you  are  already  happy  1  What !  do  you  know  no  wants  1 
no  desires  1  I  wish  it  were  better  with  me  than  it  is  !  A 
plain  indication  to  every  man's  sense,  that  he  is  not  happy 
as  3'et.     And, 

3.  That  it  is  not  in  the  power  of  all  this  world  to  make 
men  happy.  He  who  enjoys  never  so  much  of  it,  it  is  not 
a  little  more  will  make  him  happy  ;  for  it  is  manifest  an 
additional  degree  of  a  good  of  the  same  kind,  will  not  do 
it ;  it  must  be  a  good  of  another  kind.  They  who  have 
most  of  this  world,  have  they  ever  thought  themselves 
happy,  or  pronounced  so  concerning  their  present  state  1 
Ante  obitum  nemo,  &c.  Pagan  light  hath  seen  so  much, 
that  in  this  life  no  one  can  be  happy  ;  who  have  known 
how  to  make  their  best  of  this  world,  as  well  as  any  of  us. 
Besides,  it  is  in  the  reason  of  the  thing  manifest,  that  no 
man  can  be  happy,  as  long  as  he  knows  himself  to  be 
mortal.  There  is  a  gloomy  thing  called  death  still  hang- 
ing over  my  head,  and  it  will  light  upon  me  one  time  or 
other.  Can  any  man  be  happy  as  long  as  the  case  is  so, 
and  while  he  hath  no  comfortable  expectation  of  any  thing 
better  hereafter  1  Men  are  a  little  pleased  sometimes, 
while  they  can  forget  dying.  But  what  is  all  that  happi- 
ness which  depends  only  upon  a  man's  forgetfulness;  that 
is,  which  is  capable  of  being  undone  and  blasted  by  a 
thought  1  That  is  a  pitiful  happiness,  which  a  thought  can 
destroy  and  blow  awa}'.  Such  only  is  that  happiness 
which  this  world  affords,  and  which  can  grow  up  out  of 
this  earth.  I  conclude  therefore,  that  nothing  can  be  more 
evident  to  the  common  sense  and  experience  of  all  men, 
than  that  as  they  are  not  yet  happy,  so  they  cannot  be,  by 
any  thing  this  world  can  give  them. 

4.  That  they  cannot  be  happy  in  God  without  having 
their  spirits  changed,  and  made  suitable  to  him.  It  puts 
an  equal  impossibility  in  the  way  of  my  happiness,  whe- 
ther, either  my  spirit  be  suitable  to  such  or  such  a  thing, 
and  it  hath  not  enough  in  it  to  make  me  happy ;  or  that 
such  another  thing  hath  enough  in  it  to  make  me  happy, 
but  my  spirit  is  not  suitable  to  it.  As  it  is  in  reference  to 
the  matter  of  nourishment ;  neither  can  that  nourish  which 
doth  not  afford  fit  matter,  or  suitable  aliment,  to  a  man's 
body ;  nor  doth  that  which  is  never  so  suitable  nourish  if 
it  cannot  be  received,  or  there  is  an  aversion  and  dislike 
to  it.  A  stone  cannot  nourish,  because  'tis  not. fit  aliment; 
and  the  best  food  cannot  nourish,  if  the  appetite  is  averse 
and  disafl^ected  to  it.  That  person  who  can  think  of  God 
with  no  pleasure,  takes  no  complacency  in  him ;  and  who 
bears  towards  him,  not  only  a  cold,  but  an  averse  and  dis- 
affected heart,  can  never  be  happy  in  God.  And  such  is 
every  one  who  is  as  yet  only  born  flesh  of  flesh ;  for  the 
carnal  mind  is  enmity  to  God,  and  they  who  are  after  the 
flesh,  do  savour  only  the  things  of  the  flesh. 

5.  That  men  cannot  change  their  own  hearts,  so  as  to 
attemper  them  to  God,  and  make  them  suitable  to  him, 
and  capable  of  his  converse,  and  of  being  blessed  in  him. 


This  must  also  be  evident  to  every  man's  ;onscience,  who 
doth  but  reflect  and  commune  a  little  with  himself.  If 
any  man  say,  I  can  change  the  temper  of  my  own  soul; 
'tis  true  it  doth  not  love  God,  and  take  a  present  felicity 
in  him,  but  I  can  alter  it  and  bring  it  to  that  pass :  any  one 
who  will  say  so,  must  be  the  most  self-condemned  creature 
in  all  the  world.  Canst  thou  turn  and  change  thy  own 
heart,  and  wilt  let  it  go  as  it  is,  averse  and  disaffected  to 
God,  one  moment  longer?  If  they  can  work  that  change 
themselves,  they  are  utterly  inexcusable  that  they  don't 
do  it  out  of  hand.  But  if  they  cannot,  as  whosoever  will 
go  into  that  trial  will  soon  find ;  then  in  the 

6th  place,  God  must  do  it,  or  it  can  never  be  done;  and 
this  is  that  begetting  spirit  of  spirit,  which  we  .speak  of, 
as  necessary  to  a  man's  coming  into  the  kingdom  of  God, 
or  being  happy.  And  these  considerations  laid  together, 
make  it  apparently  reasonable  in  itself,  unto  any  man 
who  will  allow  himself  to  consider,  that  such  a  work  must 
be  done,  in  order  to  such  an  end.  Now  how  perverse  a 
thing  is  it  to  disbelieve  and  reject  so  plain  a  truth,  which 
will  not  admit  of  debate  !  If  a  man  bring  the  matter  to  a 
serious  scrutiny,  and  will  but  reasonably  consider  it,  he 
must  yield  the  cause  as  soon  as  he  begins  to  think  of  it. 

2ndly,  Add  thereto  the  authority  of  the  Revealer,  which 
ought  to  silence  our  spirits,  and  bring  them  to  a  compli- 
ance with  the  revelation,  though  the  thing  were  not  evi- 
dent, and  we  had  much  to  say  against  it.  And  here  we 
have  a  twofold  revealer  to  consider,  and  speak  briefly  of; 
that  is — the  subordinate  and  secondary  revealer,  namely, 
the  evangelist — and  the  primary  and  first  Revealer,  our 
Lord  Jesus  himself.  If  there  is  any  doubt  in  the  case,  it 
must  be  concerning  the  one  or  the  other  of  these  ;  either 
that  this  holy  inspired  man  did  not  truly  report  to  us 
Christ's  words,  and  that  he  tells  us  Christ  .said  what  he 
never  said  ;  or  else  that  onr  Lord  Jesus  himself  did  not 
say  truly,  in  what  he  said.     As  to  the 

1.  Why  should  we  think  that  this  blessed  man  should 
w^rite  down  such  words  as  these  in  his  Gospel  as  spoken 
by  Christ,  if  he  had  not  spoke  them  1  If  any  man  would 
think  this  matter  is  not  to  be  believed  upon  that  account ; 
it  doth  manifestly  appear,  if  we  would  think  no  better  of 
him,  by  the  general  strain  and  tenor  of  his  writing,  that 
he  writes  like  a  rational  man  ;  and  then  supposing  him  a 
rational  intelligent  man,  it  cannot  but  be  supposed,  that  he 
must  have  some  design  or  other,  in  whatsoever  he  did  set 
down.  Now  what  can  any  man  think  his  design  should 
be,  to  say,  that  our  Lord  said  such  words  as  these,  if  he 
did  not  say  them  1  You  would  easily  suppose  that  John 
being  by  his  calling  and  office  a  disciple  and  apostle  of 
Christ,  that  he  must  needs  think  himself,  upon  that  ac- 
count, concerned  and  engaged  to  promote  that  interest, 
which  he  had  now  espoused,  and  to  propagate  to  the  utmost 
the  Christian  name  and  profession.  We  can't  in  reason 
but  suppose  him  to  be  very  intent  upon  this.  If  he  were 
so,  and  would  disguise  and  palliate  things,  and  represent 
them  otherwise  than  they  were ;  surely  he  would  have 
misrepresented  them  to  the  advantage  of  his  cause  with 
men,  and  not  to  the  disadvantage.  If  we  could  allow  our- 
selves to  suspect ;  as  we  who  are  Christians  cannot,  though 
it  is  possible  that  such  disallowed  thoughts  may  sometimes 
start  up  in  our  minds;  that  he  would  disguise  or  misre- 
present any  thing  ;  we  must  suppose  that  he  would  do  it, 
so  as  to  make  the  profession  and  cause,  which  he  had  un- 
dertaken, look  more  plausibly,  and  be  more  alluring  and 
inviting,  and  fit  to  draw  multitudes  to  embrace  the  Christ- 
ian profes.sion  as  he  had  done.  But  would  an)'^  man  who 
had  such  a  design  as  this,  if  he  would  misrepresent  things, 
ofl^er  to  put  such  devised  thing  in  those  records  which  he 
was  to  transmit  up  and  down  the  world,  and  from  age  to 
age,  as  he  could  not  but  know  would  be  universally  dis- 
relished ;  and  than  which  it  was  impossible  that  any 
thing  could  be  more  ungrateful  to  the  spirits  of  men,  or 
more  opposite  to  their  lusts  and  interests  1  What,  to  tell 
men  that  they  must  undergo  a  new  birth,  and  must  be 
born  spirit  of  spirit,  be  refined  into  a  certain  sort  of  spirit- 
ual beings  by  the  work  of  God  upon  them  ;  or  else  they 
can  never  come  into  the  kingdom  of  God  1  Certainly  if  he 
would  disguise,  and  misrepresent,  he  would  not  have  done 
it  on  that  hand ;  he  would  have  done  it  rather  on  the  other 
by  indulging  and  complying  with  the  prejudices  and  lusts 


Serm.  VI. 


IN  REFERENCE  TO  PARTICULAR  PERSONS. 


519 


and  interests  of  men.  There  remains  not  therefore  any 
colour  for  an  imagination,  that  he  should  tell  us,  our  Lord 
spake  such  words  as  these,  if  he  did  not.  And  there  can 
be  less  pretence,  m  the 

2nd  place.  To  think  or  imagine,  that  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  did  speak  these  words,  but  that  he  misrepresented 
the  matter,  and  did  not  speak  the  thing  as  it  was.  For 
what  can  be  supposed"?  that  he  did  not  know  his  own 
power,  or  that  he  did  not  know  his  own  mind  1  H^  who 
is  appointed  the  great  Lord  of  this  kingdom,  the  very- 
Founder  of  the  constitution,  and  who  is  to  gather  and 
bring  in  all  to  it  whoever  shall  come  into  it,  did  he  not 
know  upon  what  terms  men  could  be  brought  into  the 
compass  of  God's  kingdom  1  Or  was  it  to  be  supposed 
possible  that  any  should  intrude  and  maintain  their  intru- 
sion into  this  kingdom,  against  him  and  the  supreme  power 
which  he  halh  in  it"?  Briefly  consider,  either  he  must  be 
deceived  himself,  or  have  a  design  to  deceive  us.  Wh)', 
what  should  that  aim  atl  With  what  purpose  and  intent  ? 
What  was  to  be  got  by  it  1  What  end  could  be  served  1 
If  it  could  consist  with  his  nature,  with  whom  guile  was 
never  found,  yet  certainly  it  never  could  with  his  design  ; 
we  cannot  suppose  any  by-design  he  should  aim  at ;  and 
with  his  great  and  main  design,  it  holds  no  agreement 
either  way.  But  with  what  horror  should  men's  infidelity 
be  thought  of,  when  it  doth,  even  in  the  very  substance  of 
the  thing,  cast  such  reproaches  as  these  upon  our  great 
Lord!  What  is  infidelity  in  reference  to  any  Gospel  truth, 
but  a  disassent  that  this  is  truel  and  so  it  is  saying,  that  it 
is  not  true,  when  he  saith,  it  is  ;  and  opposing  our  sense  to 
his  plain  and  express  word. 

This  is  the  complaint  our  Lord  makes  in  this  case.  We 
testify  the  things  we  have  known.  As  if  he  should  say; 
"  I  speak  upon  knowledge,  I  understand  all  these  things 
very  well,  they  all  lie  before  me  and  within  my  prospect. 
I  testify  what  I  see,  and  is  under  my  own  eye  ;  and  ye 
will  not  receive  our  witness.  If  I  speak  to  you  of  earthly 
things,  and  you  will  not  believe,  (that  is,  in  respect  of  the 
manner  of  their  presentation,  not  the  matter  represented. 
It  was  not  the  matter  ultimately  represented,  but  mediateh^ 
He  speaks  with  reference  to  a  known  custom  among  the 
Jews  of  baptizing  their  proselytes:  the  proselytes  of  justice 
were  constantly  admitted  by  baptism  among  them,  and 
then  forsook  father  and  mother  and  all  their  former  natural 
relations,  and  came  into  new  relations  throughout.  Other 
usages  belonging  to  the  Jewish  constitution,  are  called  in 
Scripture  by  the  suitable  names  of  worldly  and  carnal 
things,  like  this  expression  here,  of  earthly  things.  I  speak 
to  y  ou  of  what  these  earthly  things,  which  are  in  use  among 
yourselves,  do  signify ;  and  yet  you  don't  believe  me, 
you  will  not  take  in  what  I  say  when  I  go  so  familiarly  to 
work  with  you,  only  to  show  you  the  meaning  of  your  own 
practice  and  what  is  done  among  yourselves.)  how  shall 
you  believe  when  I  come  to  tell  you  of  heavenly  things, 
which  have  no  dependance  upon  or  relation  to  such  usages 
among  yourselves;  as  the  Son  of  man's  descent  from 
heaven,  and  ascent  into  it  again ;  and  his  being  on  earth 
and  in  heaven  at  the  same  time  ;  as  his  words  afterwards 
are.  What  do  you  make  of  this,  when  you  will  not  believe 
me  opening  to  you  so  plain  and  obvious  a  rudiment  of  re- 
ligion, that  men  must  undergo  a  change  in  the  temper  of 
their  spirits,  signified  by  the  practice,  which  is  common 
and  usual  among  yourselves,  of  baptizing  them ;  as  if  they 
were  born  into  a  new  world,  who  came  to  be  proselytes  of 
your  religion  1"  It  is  therefore  upon  the  whole  matter  a 
thing  full  of  horror,  and  which  ought  to  make  our  hearts 
to  tremble,  to  think  that  such  infidelity  should  lurk  in  the 
spirits  of  men  who  call  themselves  Christians,  in  reference 
to  so  gre.at  and  unquestionable  things  of  Christianity,  and 
that  it  should  admit  of  any  debate.  Such  expostulations 
we  find  used  by  our  Lord  elsewhere;  "I  come  to  you," 
saith  he,  "  in  my  Father's  name,  and  j'ou  will  not  believe 
me."  Monstrous  partiality  and  di-saffection  of  men's 
hearts  to  divine  truths,  even  because  they  are  truth,  and 
because  they  are  divine!  So  our  Lord  expressly  speaks; 
Because  I  tell  you  the  truth,  you  will  not  believe  me,  John 
viii.  45.  As  if  it  were  truth  as  truth  which  was  hated  by 
men,  and  which  they  therefore  cannot  endure  because  it  is 
true.  And  M^hen  we  consider  too,  that  to  believe  a  divine 
*  Preached  January  16tli,  1677,  at  Cordwaiiier's  Hall. 


truth  with  a  divine  faith  is  a  great  piece  of  homage  which 
we  pay  to  the  great  and  glorious  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth, 
the  first  and  eternal  truth,  into  whose  veracity  the  whole 
matter  is  resolved.     That  is,  the  thing  is  therefore  certain- 
ly true  and  credible,  and  to  be  believed  as  true,  because  it 
comes  from  the  first  and  eternal  truth,  and  is  a  derivation 
or  beam  of  light  from  that  original  light.     'Tis  the  homage 
of  a  reasonable  creature  to  the  Author  of  his  being,  to  have 
his  soul  overwrought  and  swayed  by  the  authority  of  his 
word;    because  he  hath  said  "it,  I  yield  and  submit;    I 
dare  not  but  own  it  as  true,  and  believe  it  as  true.     And 
then  what  an  affront  must  it  be  on  the  other  hand,  to  the 
great  and  eternal  God,  when  such  truths  as  these  so  plainly 
proposed  to  us  in  his  word,  are  by  infidelity  excluded  and 
shut  out  of  our  hearts.     The  authority  of  his  word  does 
not  prevail  to  weigh  and  sink  them  down  into  their  souls; 
but  they  hover  on  the  surface,  and  we  entertain  them  with 
a  notional  opinion,  as  true  ;  but  in  the  mean  time,  exclude 
them  out  of  our  hearts,  as  false.     For  there  it  is  that  infi- 
delity hath  its  seat,  as  faith  hath  its  seat  there  ;  With  the 
heart  man  believeth  unto  righteousness,  Rom.  x.     That 
assent  is  not  worthy  the  naine  of  faith  which  doth  not  enter 
into,  and  possess,  and  command  a  man's  soul.     Then  it  is 
indeed  that  a  truth  is  entertained  with  a  divine  faith,  when 
the  thing  revealed  is  received  not  as  the  word  of  man,  but 
as  the  word  of  God.     This  comes  from  the  eternal  God,  I 
take  it  upon  the  authority  of  his  word  ;  and  hence  it  comes 
to  be  urged  upon  a  man's  heart,  and  to  impress  its  own 
stamp  and  likeness  there.     This  is  the  believing  any  thing 
with  a  Divine  faith.     So  that  indeed  this  truth,  of  the  ne- 
cessity of  a  man's  being  born  spirit;  that  is,  who  do  then 
come  to  be  born  spirit  at  that  very  time ;  it  doth  in  this 
way  insinuate  and  get  into  them :  not  b}'  violence,  or  of- 
fering force  to  human  nature ;  we  are  to  imagine  no  such 
thing;  but  it  doth  by  a  plain  and  evident  discovery  of  the 
truth,  slide  into  it  and  through  it,  notwithstanding  all  the 
prejudices  which  obstruct  and  shut  up  the  heart  of  man ; 
and    so   creaies  that   faith   by  which   men  believe   unto 
righteousness  and  blessedness.     And  therefore  it  is  plain- 
ly said.  They  who  are  of  God  do  hear  God's  words,  John 
viii.  47.     Their  hearing  doth  include  believing;  Ye  there- 
fore hear  them  not  because  ye  are  not  of  God.     The  ex- 
pression there,  to  be  of  God,  is  only  a  short  elliptical  ex- 
pression for  being  born  or  begotten  of  him.     You  there- 
fore receive  not  his  words  because  j'ou  are  not  born  of 
God;  therefore  his  word  doth  not  enter  into  you,  and  hath 
no  place  in  you.     And  certainly  it  ought  to  fill  our  souls 
with  deep  resentments,  to  think  that  there  should  be  such 
an  obstruction  in  the  hearts  of  men  towards  God ;  that  a 
disco,  ery  about  such  an  important  matter,  coming  with  so 
much  evidence  from  him  and  upon  his  authority,  can't  be 
believed,  when  men  do  so  ordinarily  and  easily  believe 
one  another,  about  matters  wherein  they  take  themselves 
to  be  very  much  concerned. 

Thus  much  then  is  to  be  said  for  it;  as  to  the  little 
which  can  be  said  against  it,  see  the  close  of  the  foregoing 
discourse.  This  is  the  first  use  of  this  truth,  I  shoul' 
proceed  to  the  rest,  &c. 


SERMON  TI. 


We  have  at  large  opened  the  words,  and  made  some 
progress  in  the  use.  We  have  inferred  from  hence,  how 
strange  it  is  that  so  plain  and  important  a  doctrine  as  this 
cannot  obtain  to  be  believed  :  that  we  insisted  somewhat 
largely  upon.     We  proceed  to, 

2.  Inference, — That  it  is  evident  the  design  of  regeneration 
is  to  prepare  and  fit  men  to  be  of  God's  kingdom. — This 
is  that  which  he  hath  in  his  eve  and  aim,  when  he  begets 
souls  by  his  own  Spirit  in  a  ^oly  spirituality,  suitable  to 
the  productive  cause.  It  is  very  becoming  a  reasonable 
creature,  when  he  observes  some  great  work  is  to  be  done, 
and  there  is  great  apparatus  for  the  doinsrof  it,  to  inquire, 
What  doth  all  this  mean  ?  What  is  all  this  for  1  Wt  are 
plainly  told,  that  such  a  work  as  this  is  to  be  done  upon 


520 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT 


Serm.  VI. 


men,  as  begetticg  them  anew;  we  see  great  preparations 
are  made  for  it ;  the  Gospel  sent  down  from  heaven  on 
purpose ;  an  office  constituted  and  set  up  to  dispense  it ; 
time  sanctified  and  made  sacred  ;  solemn  ordinances  ap- 
pointed ;  a  frame  of  w^orship  instituted.  It  would  certain- 
ly be  great  inadvertency  not  to  consider  within  ourselves, 
What  is  all  this  fori  \yhy  all  this  is  for  regenerating 
men  first.  And  what  is  that  for  "?  Why  to  bring  them  into 
God's  kingdom.  I  doubt  it  is  not  seriously  considered  as 
it  ought  to  be,  how  great  a  design  this  is,  and  how  intent 
the  blessed  God  appears  upon  it,  by  begetting  men  of  the 
Spirit  to  form  them  for  his  kingdom.  And  from  hence 
arise  several  subordinate  instructions.     As, 

1.  That  when  a  man  comes  to  be  regenerate,  he  is  born 
to  great  thinars.  If  God  hath  given  us  to  understand  so 
much  of  his  design,  that  it  is  on  purpose  and  in  order  to 
the  instating  them  into  his  kingdom,  that  he  hath  begotten 
them  spirit  of  spirit ;  certainly  it  is  a  very  great  and  glori- 
ous estate,  that  every  regenerate  person  is  born  to.  We 
commonly  measure  our  judgments  concerning  the  fortunes 
of  this  or  that  person  by  his  birth.  We  say  concerning 
the  son  of  a  rich  or  great  man,  of  a  nobleman  or  a  prince  ; 
that  he  is  born  an  heir  to  great  and  ample  possessions,  and 
will  certainly  be  a  possessor  of  them  ;  though  there  are 
many  things  intervening  which  may  cut  ofi'a  person  born 
to  great  things  from  ever  being  tlie  possessor  of  them.  But 
here  the  case  is  sure,  and  not  liable  to  contingencies,  which 
can  infer  frustration  and  disappointment.  It  is  very  un- 
rea.sonable  all  this  while  that  we  so  little  consider  this, 
and  have  so  mean  low  thoughts  of  the  business  of  regene- 
ration, or  regenerate  persons  ;  certainly  they  ought  to  ap- 
pear very  venerable  persons  in  our  eyes.  Here  is  one,  as 
it  is  meet  for  us  to  judge,  who  is  born  of  God,  spirit  of 
spirit;  a  refined  being  is  begotten  in  him,  which  entitles 
him  to  eternal  glory,  an  everlasting  kingdom.  Indeed  it 
is  not  strange  that  such  persons  are  obscure  unto  the  most 
of  the  world.  The  world  is  said  not  to  know  God's  sons  : 
"What  manrer  of  love  is  this,  that  we  should  be  called 
the  sons  of  God  1"  i.  e.  made  such ;  for  God's  calling  is 
making  them  what  he  calls  them.  He  calls  things  which 
are  not,  and  makes  them  existent  things.  It  is  subjoined, 
Tlierefore  the  world  knows  us  not,  because  it  knew  not 
him,  1  John  iii.  1.  There  is  a  heavenly  progeny  among 
them,  whom  the  world  don't  know;  but  though  the  world 
don't  know  God's  sons,  methinks,  they  should  know  one 
another,  and  not  think  so  meanly  of  one  another's  state 
and  condition  as  the  rest  of  the  world  think  of  them.  'Tis 
a  most  emphatical  scripture,  1  Pet.  i.  3,  4.  Being  begotten 
again  to  a  lively  hope — unto  an  inheritance  incorruptible, 
undefiled,  and  which  fadeth  not  away,  reserved  in  heaven 
for  us.  A  regenerate  person  is  no  mean  person,  if  you  con- 
sider his  great  parentage  and  high  extraction;  or  the  in- 
heritance to  which  he  is  born,  and  the  high  and  glorious 
hopes  which  are  before  him. 

2.  This  instruction  also  proceeds  hence,  that  we  are  to 
look  upon  it  as  a  very  unbecoming  thing,  when  we  regiet 
•what  God  further  doth,  in  the  prosecution  of  this  design. 
He  having  begotten  persons  on  purpose  for  his  kingdom, 
and  to  partake  of  the  glory  and  blessedness  of  its  consum- 
mate state,  doth  gradually,  as  he  hath  prepared  and  adapted 
them  for  it,  translate  and  take  up  into  that  kingdom,  such 
as  were  before  born  into  it,  and  begotten  to  it.  It  is  un- 
reasonable to  regret  this,  whether  we  ourselves  are  the 
spectators  only,  or  whether  we  also  come  to  be  the  sub- 
jects of  this  dispensation. 

When  we  are  spectators  of  it  as  to  others,  and  see  him 
transuming  and  taking  up  some  out  of  this  lower  state  of 
his  kingdom,  into  the  more  glorious  state  of  it,  whom  he 
hath  begotten  thereto  before;  why  are  we  to  regret  thisl 
What,  that  God  should  have  the  disposing  of  his  own 
children,  whom  he  hath  begotten,  as  the  Father  of  spirits, 
spirit  of  spirit  1  Indeed  whatsoever  there  is  of  displeasure 
towards  us  m  such  dispensations,  ought  to  be  considered 
and  entertained  hy  us,  with  a  due  sense  of  it ;  but  what 
there  is  of  divine  good  pleasure  expressed  in  it,  ought  also 
to  be  submitted  to  with  an  awful  and  complacential  sub- 
jection. How  unreasonable  a  thing  is  it,  that  we  should 
grudge  him  his  own  children  whom  he  halh  begotten  ! 
We  should  think  it  very  hard,  if  we  dispose  of  any  child 
of  ours  in   sickness  to  be  nursed  abroad,  and  we  can't 


have  it  home  without  a  quarrel  when  we  think  fit  to  have 
it  home. 

And  how  unworthy  is  it  when  men  regret  to  be  the  sub- 
jects of  this  dispensation  of  God,  and  can't  endure  the 
thoughts  of  going  into  his  kingdom,  the  most  perfect  and 
glorious  state  of  it,  unto  which  if  they  are  regenerate,  they 
weie  born  1  What,  to  be  unwilling  to  go  to  our  own 
Father,  and  have  our  spirits  return  to  him,  when  he  hath 
begotten  them  for  himself?  How  vile  a  thing  is  this! 
W*"hat  terrene,  dunghill  hearts  are  ours,  which  so  cleave 
to  this  vile  earth  !  We  should  think  it  a  most  unnatural 
thing  in  a  son,  who  has  been  long  in  a  foreign  country, 
especially  if  in  straits  and  wants  there  ;  and  who  is  not  so 
as  to  spiritual  concernments ;  and  yet  should  regret  to  be 
called  home  by  his  father  ;  for  that  would  carry  this  sig- 
nification with  it,  that  he  counts  any  miseries  more  tolera- 
ble than  his  father's  presence.  Certainly  it  must  needs 
speak  what  is  very  unlike  and  unworthy  of  a  child.  I 
know  not  what  we  can  have  to  say  for  ourselves,  that  there 
should  be  so  few  unfeigned  desires  after  our  Father's 
house  and  our  own  home  ;  and  when  we  say,  we  belong 
to  his  family,  and  have  been  born  into  it,  and  begotten  of 
him  ;  that  yet  we  never  care  to  come  there.  Still  a  little 
longer,  a  little  longer,  we  would  be  here  below,  in  this 
mean  and  abject  state;  as  though  we  were  contented  to 
endure  any  thing  of  misery,  and  calamity,  and  turmoil, 
and  all  the  impurity  of  this  world,  rather  than  be  at  home 
with  our  own  Father.  There  is  an  aptness  to  regret  God's 
known  purpose ;  we  struggle  and  shrink  at  the  thoughts 
of  dying;  but  certainly  that  must  argue  a  very  great  dis- 
temper of  mind :  for  what,  would  we  not  have  the  end 
attained  1  would  we  have  the  design  defeated  and  blasted 
for  which  we  were  born  1  If  we  were  ever  born  spirit  of 
spirit,  the  design  of  it  was  to  prepare  us  for  that  kingdom 
into  which  we  regret  to  go  ;  we  were  born  on  purpose  for 
it,  and  yet  we  would  not  come  there. 

3.  We  further  learn  this  instruction  hence,  that  'tis  a 
most  highly  becoming  thing  for  the  regenerate  very  much 
to  mind  that  slate  for  which  they  have  been  born.  No 
one  is  wont  to  be  blamed  for  minding  things  no  higher 
than  what  he  was  born  to.  Many  times  we  reckon  it  a 
piece  of  unwarrantable  and  unbecoming  arrogance  among 
men,  when  they  aspire  to  things  beyond  their  sphere  and 
compass,  and  aim  at  things  above  their  birth  ;  but  a  Christ- 
ian is  not  to  be  blamed,  when  he  aspires  to  immortality  and 
eternal  glory,  and  all  the  felicity  and  blessedness  of  God's 
kingdom  above;  for  it  is  that  he  is  born  to.  It  is  justly 
blamed  when  the  spirits  of  any  are  found  visibly  to  sink 
below  their  birth  and  state  to  which  they  were  born,  and 
the  grandeur  of  their  families;  when  men  born  of  noble 
parentage,  who  have  that  which  they  call  generous  blood 
running  in  their  veins,  do  mind  only  mean  things,  and 
discover  themselves  to  be  of  abject  ungenerous  spirits ; 
this  is  reckoned  a  great  incongruity  among  men.  And 
certainly  there  is  nothing  more  unbecoming  than  that  a 
Christian  should  mind  and  be  intent  upon  things  which 
are  of  a  mean  and  base  allay,  and  forget  the  kingdom  he 
was  born  to.  We  may  aspire  high ;  our  birth  and  state 
will  justify  us  in  it ;  for  we  are  born  of  God,  and  born 
to  a  kingdom.  Why,  to  let  our  thoughts  grovel,  and  our 
affections  be  scattered  in  the  dust  of  the  earth,  to  embrace 
dunghills ;  we  have  nothing  whereto  to  impute  it,  but  an 
ignoble  and  mean  temper  of  spirit ;  which  certainly  when 
we  know,  and  can  reflect  upon,  it  should  be  far  from  us  to 
allow;  and  wherein  we  find  ourselves  guilty,  we  should 
lay  our  hands  upon  our  mouth,  for  it  is  unaccountable,  and 
nothing  is  to  be  said.  See  how  the  persons  are  described 
whom  God  sorts  out  and  distinguishes  from  the  rest  of  men 
for  eternal  blessedness,  Rom.  ii.  6.  It  is  said,  that  God 
will  judge  every  man  according  to  his  works.  God  is  re- 
presented there  in  the  person  of  a  judge,  and  as  underta- 
king the  woik  of  judgment  upon  all  this  world ;  and  the 
world  accordingly  is  divided  into  two  parts,  as  the  judg- 
ment of  God  finds  them,  and  will  distinguish  them  ;  that 
is,  they  are  distinguished  by  their  final  states.  There  are 
some  who  are  for  life,  as  that  which  by  the  determination 
of  the  judge  belongs  to  them  ;  and  others  are  for  indigna- 
tion and  wrath,  and  tribulation  and  anguish.  These  are 
distinguished  by  their  spirits,  or  present  characters,  in  order 
to  that  final  partition  of  tbem.     These  are  "  such  who  hy 


Sekm.  VI. 


IN  REFERENCE  TO  PARTICULAR  PERSONS. 


Ml 


patient  continuance  in  all  well  doing,  who  seek  hononr  and 
glory  and  immorialily."  This  is  the  character  of  their 
spirits;  and  to  such  when  God  will  render  to  everyone 
according  to  his  works,  he  will  render  eternal  life.  The 
other  son  are  described  by  their  character  in  reference  to 
their  slate  ;  that  is,  "  who  are  contentious  and  do  not  obey 
the  truth,  but  obey  unrighteousness  ;  to  them  he  will  ren- 
der indignation  a'nd  wrath,"  &c.  To  them  who  are  con- 
tentious :  it  is  plain  enough,  if  we  consider  the  scope  and 
current  of  the  apostle's  discourse,  what  he  means  by  being 
contentious  here.  If  you  consider  it  in  opposition  to  what 
is  subjoined,  "who  do  not  obey  the  truth;"  or  by  way  of 
collation  with  what  he  had  been  saying  in  the  foregoing 
chapter,  "  The  wrath  of  God  is  revealed  from  heaven, 
against  all  ungodliness  and  unrighteousness  of  men  ;"  'tis 
plain  the  truth  which  he  speaks  of  all  along  in  that  dis- 
course is  practical  truth,  or  the  truth  by  which  they  should 
be  governed  in  their  practice,  and  according  to  which  they 
ought  to  square  and  conduct  their  course.  It  is  very  plain 
the  contention  he  means,  is  a  contention  against  such  truth  ; 
when  men's  spirits  resist  and  withstand  the  tendency  and 
design  and  dictates  of  it,  the  practical  and  governing  dic- 
tates which  do  more  or  less  obtain  in  all ;  some  even  in 
the  pagan  world,  and  those  which  are  more  clear  in  the 
Gospel ;  but  somewhat  or  other  of  practical  truth  there  is 
in  all.  And  this  is  that  which  is  the  common  character  of 
those  who  shall  finalh"  perish ;  who  are  contentious  against 
that  truth  which  should  have  governed  them  ;  and  when  it 
should  have  been  as  on  a  throne  in  their  souls,  it  is  shut  up 
as  in  a  prison.  They  held  it  in  unrighteousness,  and  lettered 
it  in  chains,  and  pent  it  up,  and  confined  it  only  to  the 
notion  of  the  mind ;  let  it  hover  only  in  dark  ineflectual 
notions,  and  never  admitted  it  to  walk  forth  into  their 
lives  and  practices,  and  have  that  inspection  and  power 
there  which  it  ought  to  have  had.  And  that  practical 
truth  is  resisted  in  nothing  more  than  in  this,  when  men 
addict  themselves,  in  defiance  of  it,  to  things  which  their 
own  reason  and  experience  tell  them  are  not  proportionable 
to  them;  to  earthly,  terrene  things,  which  they  cannot  but 
know  are  not  commensurate  to  intelligent  and  immortal 
spirus. 

They  who  are  of  such  abject,  mean  spirits,  the  Lord  will 
be  ashamed  at  last  to  be  called  their  God,  Heb.  xi.  16. 
But  now  they  seek  a  better  country,  that  is,  a  heavenly; 
wherefore  God  is  not  ashamed  to  be  called  their  God. 
These  are  a  sort  of  persons  who  approve  themselves  his 
children,  and  evidence  of  whom  their  are  born;  the  tem- 
per of  their  minds,  and  the  course  and  drift  of  their  de- 
signs, show  of  what  Father  they  are  descended.  They  mind 
and  seek  a  better  country,  wherefore  he  is  not  ashamed  to 
be  called  their  God :  "  These  are  my  own  race  ;  they  are 
suitable  to  me."  But  it  is  a  very  sad  and  dreadful  inti- 
mation to  those  who  are  of  mean,  base,  and  earthly  spirits: 
He  will  be  ashamed  to  be  called  their  God:  "  These  are 
no  children  of  mine;  thej''  were  never  born  of  my  Spirit: 
I  never  had  any  such  children." 

4.  We  further  learn,  that  we  are  to  consider  them  as 
most  miserable  creatures,  who  are  not  regenerate.  Who- 
soever are  for  God's  kingdom  are  regenerated  on  pui^pose 
to  prepare  them  for  it.  They  therefore  who  are  not  rege- 
nerate, want  the  radical,  fundamental  preparation ;  the 
primordia,  or  first  principles  by  which  they  are  to  be  adopt- 
ed to  that  kingdom :  and  have,  in  the  very  temper  and 
frame  of  their  spirits,  their  doom  ;  there  is  this  to  be  read 
concerning  their  states,  that  they  are  not  for  the  kingdom 
of  God.  Men  are  entered  into  this  kingdom  here  by  re- 
generation, or  being  born  into  it ;  and  so  growing  up  here, 
are  transplanted  into  the  eternal,  glorious  kingdom.  Now 
it  is  a  most  miserable  case  that  there  is  hut  one  inlet  or 
way  into  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  men  should  not  be  in 
that  way,  or  so  much  as  about  it,  or  apprehend  they  have 
any  concern  to  be  so;  as  the  case  is  with  too  many,  even 
the  generality  of  those  who  are  unregenerate.  But  then 
what  is  their  hope,  or  what  can  it  be  1  Do  they  think  to 
leap  over  this  initial  state  of  God's  kingdom,  and  get  into 
the  kingdom  of  glory  without  ever  coming  into  the  king- 
dom of  grace  1  How  strange  a  disappointment  must  they 
needs  find  at  last !  For  they  are  to  consider  that  this 
country  is  the  only  prolific  country ;  they  are  now  new 
born  in  heaven  ;  there  they  are  perfected,  not  begotten.  As 


there  are  none  who  become  first  wicked  in  hell ;  they  are 
there  most  wicked,  or  wicked  to  the  utmost ;  but  they 
were  first  wicked  here  on  earth  :  why,  so  'tis  in  reference 
to  heaven  too;  here  men  must  first  be  .spiritual  and  holy, 
and  born  of  the  Spirit ;  and  become  most  spiritual  and 
holy,  when  they  are  most  blessed  above.  And  therefore 
they  are  certainly  in  a  most  miserable  case,  who  since  re- 
generation is  designed  as  the  preparation  filially  and  ulti- 
mately for  heaven,  and  for  this  eternal,  glorious  kingdom ; 
arc  neither  regenerate,  nor  apprehensive  of  any  concern 
the)'  have  to  be  so. 

5.  We  learn,  that  as  the  miser}'  of  the  unregenerate  is 
justly  said  to  be  great,  so  their  folly  may  be  concluded  to 
be  no  way  inferior  to  their  misery.  They  are  a.s  foolish  as 
they  are  miserable,  that  is,  they  speak,  and  think,  and 
reckon  upon  it,  that  it  shall  be  well  with  them  hereafter, 
though  they  are  never  regenerate;  they  fortify  their  own 
hearts  into  a  confidence,  that  they  shall  attain  things 
which  they  were  never  born  to,  and  have  no  other  reason 
to  expect.  You  would  think  it  a  great  piece  of  madness, 
for  a  man  to  go  about  and  say,  that  he  expects  a  kingdom, 
and  doubts  not  but  he  shall  be  a  great  prince  ;  though  he 
walks  up  and  down  in  rags,  and  is  only  the  son  of  a 
ploughman  or  some  mean  pennon:  he  would  be  thought 
fit  to'live  in  chains.  Why,  you  will  certainly  say,  the  ex- 
pectations of  all  imregenerate  persons,  to  be  hereafter 
happy  in  God's  kingdom,  do  not  carry  this  folly  in  it. 
Yea,  it  carries  in  it  much  greater  folly ;  for  we  cannot  say 
it  is  impossible  that  a  person  of  a  very  mean  paren'age 
should  come  to  greatness  in  this  world.  Histories  of  for- 
mer and  latter  times,  give  us  some  instances  of  this  kind; 
but  you  would  think  him  a  madman  for  all  that,  who  should 
say  "so.  As  certainly  he  would  be  truly  counted  so,  who 
should  hope  for  every  thing  which  is  possible,  merely  be- 
cause it  is  possible ;  as  he  would  be  who  feared  every  thing 
which  is  merely  possible  to  come  to  pass  that  is  hurtful 
and  evil  to  him  :  as  if  a  man  should  fear  that  every  bit  of 
meat  he  eats  should  choke  him,  or  that  in  his  ordinary 
walks  in  the  streets,  a  tile  should  fall  and  beat  out  his 
brains.  Thousands  of  such  accidents  are  not  impossible  ; 
but  if  a  man  should  fear  them  continually,  it  were  certainly 
a  great  follv,  and  would  put  a  great  deal  of  miser}'  into  his 
life.  It  would  be  equally  an  absurd  thing,  to  hope  every 
thing  which  is  possible,  only  because  it  is  possible,  and  no 
more  ;  but  then  to  hope  forthat  which  is  simply  and  ab- 
solutely impossible,  and  which  the  shortest  and  quickest 
turn  of  thought  would  convince  a  man  is  so,  is  a  madness 
beyond  all  imagination.  If  you  hear  a  man  walking  ia 
the  streets  in  rags,  and  saying,  "1  hope  at  sorne  time  to 
be  a  prince  or  great  monarch  before  I  die:"  you  can't 
sav,  he  hopes  for  an  impossible  thing :  but  if  you  hear  an 
unregenerate  man  say,  "  I  hope  I  shall  have  the  eternal 
kingdom,  though  I  continue  unregenerate,  and  die  just  as 
I  am;"  his  hope  is  simply  impossible; -for  there  is  an  in- 
consistency even  in  the  temper  of  his  spirit  with  the  purity 
and  felicity  of  that  kingdom  ;  besides  the  irreversible  de- 
termination of  the  righteous  and  supreme  Lord  of  it,  and 
the  disposer  of  all  the  concerns  of  it.  This  is  therefore  the 
strongest  piece  of  folly  which  ever  had  place  in  any  human 
breast,  that  a  man  should  be  yet  unborn  of  God,  and  never 
reckon  upon  being  other  than  he  is,«nd  yet  expect  a  place 
in  God's  kingdom. 

I  proceed  now  to  the  3d  inference, — That  it  is  a  most 
wonderful  mercy,  that  any  such  work  as  this  should  be 
done  among  the"  children  of  men,  as  begetting  them  spirit 
of  spirit,  in  order  to  their  coming  into  his  kingdom. — This 
is  a  mercy  for  ever  to  be  had  in  admiration,  and  which 
we  can  never  enough  adore,  if  we  allow  our  thoughts  to 
work  a  little  upon  the  follo%\-ing  considerations. 

1.  The  subject  of  it,  or  who  they  are  who  are  thus  horn. 
Why,  the  most  undeserving  creatures ;  for,  alas !  what  can 
they'  pretend  to  deserve  who  are  by  nature  children  of 
wrath,  and  exposed  from  their  birth  to  his  displeasure  7 
find  altogether  uninclined  either  to  desire  or  comply  with 
that  by  which  such  a  work  as  this  was  to  be  wrought  upon 
them  1  who  were  uninclined  so  much  as  to  desire,  "  Oh 
that  the  transforming  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost  might  come 
upon  me  !"  or  disposed  to  fall  in  with  the  motions  of  the 
Spirit  in  order  to  it  1  And  besides,  what  a  wonderful  mercy 
was  it  that  ever  such  impure  creatures  should  be  dealt 


522 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT 


Serm.  VII. 


•withal,  in  such  a  way !  How  would  any  of  us  like  to 
have  that  for  our  employment,  to  touch  the  ulcerous  sores 
of  some  poor  wretch  lying  in  rags  upon  a  dunghill,  in  order 
to  the  cure  of  them  1  Yea,  and  most  disaffected  and  op- 
posite to  the  work,  and  the  worker  of  it,  full  of  enmity, 
and  apt  to  strive,  and  contend,  and  rebel  against  the  bless- 
ed Spirit  of  God,  whenever  he  comes  to  touch  upon  their 
hearts,  in  order  to  such  a  work  as  this. 

2.  The  Author  of  the  work,  the  blessed  Spirit.  "What  a 
wonderful  mercy  is  it  that  the  Spirit  should  ever  come 
down  amongst  men,  upon  such  a  design  ;  and  become  in- 
clined and  engaged  to  diffuse  its  life  and  vital  influence, 
in  a  world  lost  in  carnality  and  death !  This  appears  if 
you  consider  either  its  purity,  and  that  the  Spirit  of  holi- 
ness should  come  with  such  a  design  into  so  impure 
hearts  ;  or  its  high  and  excellent  dignity.  If  such  a  work 
as  this  could  have  been  done  by  the  hand  of  man,  or  it 
would  have  sufficed  to  have  sent  an  angel,  it  had  been  less 
wonderful ;  but  that  the  Spirit  should  come,  and  come  on 
purpose;  q.  d.  "I  myself  will  immediately  attend  this 
affair,  it  shall  be  my  own  doing  ;  no  other  hand  is  propor- 
tionable." How  highly  hath  he  merited  to  be  called  the 
Spirit  of  grace  I  When  the  malignity  of  men's  hearts 
against  it  is  intended  to  be  represented  and  aggravated,  it 
is  said,  they  have  done  despite  to  the  Spirit  of  grace,  (Heb. 
X.  29.)  the  Spirit  of  all  love,  and  goodness,  and  benignity, 
and  sweetness.  Certainly  we  have  reason  to  call  it  the 
Spirit  of  grace,  and  to  account  and  reckon  it  so,  who  came 
among  men  upon  such  an  errand  as  this.     Or  again, 

3.  The  nature  of  this  work.  Why,  it  is  begetting  men; 
and  what  does  that  import  1  It  imports  directly  a  total 
change,  or  a  change  throughout;  and  it  imports  by  con- 
sequence a  resulting  relation.  They  who  are  begotten, 
become  children  to  him  who  begets.  What  a  mercy  was 
this  that  such  a  thing  should  be  undertaken,  as  a  total 
change,  and  that  every  part  should  be  made  new !  If  some 
little  alteration  would  have  served  the  turn,  the  Spirit  of 
God  might  easily  be  supposed  to  be  contented  to  do  it ; 
but  to  make  them  new  throughout,  and  in  every  part, 
which  begetting  signifies  ;  why  the  greatness  of  the  under- 
taking speaks  the  mercifulness  of  the  undertaker.  And 
besides,  there  is  the  relation  which  results  and  is  conse- 
quentially imported  in  it.  The  blessed  God  might  thus 
have  reasoned  off  the  design ;  "  What,  shall  I  beget  them  1 
then  must  I  be  their  Father:  and  what,  to  have  such  mis- 
creants as  they  my  children  1  Why  should  I  beget  them 
by  my  Spirit,  and  become  a  Father  to  them  who  are 
already  of  their  father  the  devil  7  shall  I  go  to  make  the 
devil's  children  minel" 

4.  The  end,  which  is  to  bring  them  at  last  into  his  own 
kingdom.  It  is  a  wonderful  mercy,  that  they  who  are  alto- 
gether born  in  sin,  and  born  under  wrath  and  ruin,  should 
have  such  thoughts  taken  up  about  them;  and  the  holy 
and  eternal  Spirit  employed  on  purpose  to  beget  them 
anew,  and  form  them  throughout,  and  bring  them  into  the 
presence  of  his  glory,  to  dwell  with  him  and  reign  with 
him  for  ever.  They  so  partake  in  this  kingdom,  as  to  be 
kings  in  it :  "  He  washed  us  from  our  sins  in  his  blood, 
and  made  us  kings  and  priests  unto  God  and  his  Father." 
What  a  wonderful  mercy  to  engage  the  blessed  Spirit  to 
this  employment  about  the  spirits  of  men,  upon  so 
important  an  account,  and  in  order  to  so  high  and  great 
a  glory  ( 


SERMON  VII. 

It  is  the  use  we  have  in  hand  ;  for  which  purpose  some 
practical  inferences  have  been  recommended  to  you  ;  and 
others  do  yet  remain.     That  which  is  the 

4.  Inference  you  may  take  thus ; — That  they  cannot  but 
be  very  gross  hypocrites  who  carry  that  semblance  and 
show  with  them,  of  having  a  standing  in  this  kingdom  of 
God  ;  but  were  never  thus  born  into  it. — Here  we  have 
these  two  things  to  do : — 1.  To  show  that  such  pretenders 
*  Preached  January  23rd,  16T7,  at  Cordwainer'a  Hall. 


are  hypocrites  upon  this  account. — 2.  To  show  the  absurd- 
ity and  folly  of  that  hypocrisy. 

1.  That  there  is  manifest  hypocrisy  in  the  case.  In 
order  to  the  evincing  this,  we  need  only  to  consider  with 
ourselves,  that  such  persons  really  have  not  a  standing  in 
God's  kingdom,  and  yet  that  they  would  be  taken  to  have 
Hypocrisy  is  when  persons  pretend  to  that  good  which 
they  have  not.  It  is  not  any  kind  of  semblance  which 
will  put  a  glory  upon  us;  but  the  simulation  of  some  good 
or  other ;  when  men  pretend  to  be  better,  or  that  their  state 
is  better,  than  indeed  it  is,  or  than  they  are.  Nor  is  it 
necessary  to  a  man's  being  a  hypocrite  that  he  should  un- 
derstand himself  to  be  so;  but  only  that  he  carries  a  show 
or  semblance,  whether  he  deceives  others  by  it  only,  or 
himself  also,  of  that  good  which  he  hath  not.  And  that 
such  persons  are  not  of  God's  kingdom  we  have  largely 
shown  already.  They  neither  are,  nor  is  it  possible  they 
should  be,  upon  other  terms  than  by  being  born  into  it. 
There  is  no  other  possible  way  to  come  into  this  kingdom, 
or  to  be  made  suitable  to  the  nature  and  end  of  this  con- 
.stitution,  but  by  being  new  born  spirit  of  spirit.  And 
therefore  that  good  which  such  persons  pretend  to,  they 
have  not,  who  ever  they  are  who  are  not  yet  new  born. 
They  pretend  to  be  the  loyal  subjects  of  the  kingdom  of 
God,  but  it  is  no  such  thing,  if  they  are  not  by  a  new 
birth  made  .so;  for  by  their  old  and  natui'al  birth,  and  as 
they  were  born  flesh  of  the  flesh,  they  were  never  so.  And 
yet  it  is  very  apparent  on  the  other  hand,  that  there  are 
inany  who  would  be  taken  to  be  of  that  kingdom,  though 
really  they  were  never  regenerate  or  born  into  it.  And  this 
added  to  the  former,  evinces  the  matter  we  have  in  hand  ; 
that  such  persons  are  egregious  hypocrites,  who  are  not  of 
God's  kingdom,  and  yet  pretend  to  be  of  it.  And  that 
many  of  the  unregenerate  do  so,  we  have  such  evidences 
of  it  as  these  : 

1.  That  they  are  very  loth  to  go  under  the  contrary  re- 
pute. There  are  none  but  are  either  subjects  of  this  king- 
dom, or  rebels  again.st  the  authority  and  laws  of  it.  There 
is  no  medium  between  rebellion  and  subjection ;  all  are 
either  subjects,  or  rebels.  Now  they  don't  profess  rebel- 
lion, and  think  it  inconvenient  to  go  under  the  name  of 
rebels,  or  avow  rebellion  against  the  Majesty  of  heaven. 
It  is  plain  they  would  be  thought  subjects,  and  are  loth  to 
wear  that  inscription  upon  their  foreheads :  Here  is  a  rebel 
against  heaven.  They  would  be  tliought  to  be  what  they 
are  not. 

2.  They  conform  themselves  to  some  parts  of  the  law 
of  this  kingdom  ;  that  is,  in  such  respects  whereih  their 
compliance  is  more  easy,  and  less  expensive,  and  wherein 
there  is  less  disinclination  of  heart  to  it.  There  are  many 
very  easy  externals,  which  being  observed  and  complied 
with,  a  reputation  may  be  gained,  without  any  great  pains, 
or  inconvenience  and  loss,  or  without  imposing  too  much 
upon  themselves.  There  is  an  external  obedience  to  the 
letter  of  the  law,  in  some  of  the  less  principal  commands 
and  precepts  of  it :  for  if  we  compare  them,  we  must  ac- 
knowledge all  that  duty  which  immediately  terminates 
upon  God,  to  be  more  principal  than  that  which  imme- 
diately terminates  upon  men.  Possibly  they  can  be  so 
content  to  put  on  the  garb  of  just  and  charitable  persons  ; 
yea,  if  you  go  with  them  no  further  than  the  externals  of 
religion,  they  can  be  content  to  come  to  the  public  assem- 
blies, and  to  sit  before  the  Lord  as  his  people  sit ;  with 
their  mouths,  ore  temts,  they  show  much  love,  (Ezek.  xxxiii. 
latter  end,)  i.  e.  they  are  very  devout  persons.  And  while 
they  do  all  this,  what  doth  it  signify,  but  that  they  have  a 
great  mind  to  be  taken  for  subjects,  and  some  of  God's 
kingdom  ;  and  think  it  possible  to  gain  a  repute  by  such 
easy  means  as  these,  which  they  have  no  cause  at  all  to 
regret. 

3.  They  declare  against  the  more  open  rebellions  of 
others.  It  may  be  they  will  lift  up  loud  outcries  against 
very  gross  wickedness  in  other  men,  and  condemn  them 
for  appearing  to  be  that  which  themselves  in  heart  really 
are. 

4.  They  claim  the  privileges  of  the  subjects  of  this  king- 
dom. They  will  have  their  children  to  be  enrolled,  even 
as  theirs  who  are  the  members  of  it,  and  it  may  be,  come 
themselves  to  the  Lord's  tab.e      They  expect  the  pi  otection 


Sf.rm.  VII. 


IN  REFERENCE  TO  PARTICULAR  TERSONS. 


523 


and  blessing  of  the  great  King  of  this  kingdom;  though 
possibly  ihey  may  not  have  much  recourse  to  him  about 
the  concerns  of  their  souls  ;  yet  they  believe  and  hope,  he 
will  succeed  ihem  in  their  affairs,  and  prosper  them  in  the 
world,  and  save  them  at  last.  Why,  all  these  things 
plainly  manifest,  that  they  have  a  great  mind  to  be  taken 
to  be  of  this  kingdom,  what  really  and  indeed  they  are 
not;  and  that  there  is  a  great  deal  of  hypocrisy  in  the 
case.     But, 

'2ndly,  We  are  to  show  the  absurdity  and  folly  of  that 
h3'pocrisy.  This  will  be  manifest  too,  if  you  consider 
these  two  things; — 1.  That  it  is  without  any  colourable 
pretence. — 2.  That  'tis  without  any  valuable  design.  If 
one  would  put  any  semblance  or  show  of  being  what  one 
is  not,  and  manage  the  business  with  any  wisdom  or  cun- 
ning, there  must  be  these  two  conjunct;  that  is,  the  dis- 
guise must  be  framed  with  a  great  deal  of  art,  and  some 
considerable  advantage  must  be  got  by  it.  For  otherwise, 
to  make  such  a  show  to  no  purpose,  though  there  were 
never  so  great  ingenuity  showed  in  it,  is  but  to  play  the 
fool.  But  now  the  hypocrisy  which  is  to  be  found  in  this 
case,  must  needs  be  absuid,  as  having  neither  colourable 
pretence,  nor  valuable  design. 

1.  It  hath  no  sufficiently  colourable  pretence.  Some 
pretence  there  must  be  ;  otherwise  it  could  not  but  be  hy- 
pocrisy. But  there  wants  a  specious  and  plausible  pre- 
tence in  the  case  ;  i.  e.  that  one  should  pretend  himself  to 
be  of  this  kingdom  of  God,  which  consists  all  of  select  per- 
sons; and  yet  he  never  hath  been  born  into  such  a  state. 
To  pretend  to  be  in  a  state  into  which  there  was  no  ima- 
ginable way  to  come,  and  with  the  supposed  denial,  which 
we  must  suppose  in  the  present  case,  of  the  only  way  bj'" 
which  it  was  possible  one  co^ld  come  into  such  a  state. 
'Tis  impossible  there  can  be  a  specious  pretence  for  this. 
But  to  be  a  little  more  particular:  It  is  plain, 

1.  That  men  do  in  this  case  pretend  to  be  that  which 
they  abhor.  They  pretend  at  present  to  be  of  the  initial 
kingdom,  or  the  kingdom  of  grace  ;  that  is,  in  short,  they 
pretend  to  be  saints ;  every  one  pretends  to  be  so,  who 
pretends  to  be  of  this  kingdom,  for  it  is  a  kingdom  of 
such  :  but  being  as  yet  unregeneraie,  they  abhor  to  be  so, 
and  dislike  the  purity  of  that  state  to  which  they  do  pre- 
tend.    This  is  very  gross  and  absurd.     And, 

2.  They  pretend  to  hope  for  what  they  don't  desire ;  and 
that  is  equally  absurd.  They  hope  they  say  to  be  in  the 
consummate  and  glorious  kingdom  above  ;  but  they  don't 
desire  to  be  there  :  for  it  is  impossible  an  unregenerate, 
unholy  heart  can.  No  man  can  desire  that  which  is  un- 
suitable to  his  nature,  and  to  which  his  heart,  in  its  ha- 
bitual inclinations,  is  repugnant.  Every  one  who  hath  this 
hope  in  him,  purifies  himself  even  as  he  is  pure,  1  Jolm 
iii.  -3.  Now  for  a  man  to  pretend  to  the  hope  of  that,  which 
in  his  own  heart  he  doth  not  desire;  this  is  a  most  absurd 
pretence.  For  though  it  is  very  possible  to  desire  that 
which  a  man  doth  not  hope  for;  there  are  many  such  irra- 
tional desires  of  things  which  appear  in  themselves  worth 
the  having,  but  which  we  apprehend  no  possibility  of  ha- 
ving: such  childish  and  foolish  desires  and  wouldings 
there  may  be,  of  what  we  have  no  hope  to  attain.  But  it 
is  impossible  there  can  be,  on  the  other  hand,  the  hope  of 
that  whereof  I  have  no  desire ;  for  hope  doth  superadd  to 
desire,  and  therefore  doth  suppose  it.  Whatever  I  hope 
for  I  desiie,  though  I  do  not  necessarily,  because  I  desire 
a  thing,  therefore  hope  for  it ;  for  to  make  a  thing  hope- 
ful to  me  it  must  be  possible,  and  it  must  be  arduous, 
or  attended  with  some  kind  of  appearing  difficulty.  But 
I  may  desire  a  thing,  merely  because  it  appears  good, 
whether  I  apprehend  it  possible  to  be  attained  or  no ;  or 
though  there  is  nothing  of  arduousness  appearing  in  the 
case.     It  may  be  the  object  of  desire,  but  not  of  hope. 

And  most  manifest  it  is,  that  whosoever  are  not  thus 
born  spirit  of  spirit,  have  not  any  desire  to  be  partakers  in 
this  kingdom  rightly  understood.  That  is,  'tis  not  possible 
that  an  unrenewed,  unspiritual  heart  can  desire  the  em- 
ployment and  business,  the  purity  and  enjoj'ments,  of  that 
state ;  or  the  Divine  presence  in  which  they  are  to  con- 
verse. All  by  which  they  can  so  much  as  cheat  them- 
selves in  the  case,  is  only  this,  having  taken  up  a  defective 
or  false  notion  of  heaven,  or  a  future  state  of  blessedness, 
ihey  hope,  they  say,  to  be  happy  when  they  die,  without 


having  ever  formed  a  right  notion,  what  that  happiness  is, 
or  wherein  it  consists.  But  be  it  what  it  will,  and  though 
it  is  never  so  mistaken  a  notion,  it  is  plain  they  desire  that 
happiness  which  they  do  desire,  only  as  it  is  put  in  com- 
parison with  hell,  not  £is  it  stands  in  comparison  with 
earth.  They  had  rather  indeed  be  happy,  wiih  such  an 
imaginary  happiness  as  they  fancy  to  themselves  in  heaven, 
than  to  go  to  hell ;  but  they  had  rather  continue  on  earth 
perpetually,  enjoying  the  good  things  it  affords,  than  that 
heaven  itself,  though  suited  by  their  own  imaginations 
never  so  much  to  the  wish  of  their  own  hearts.  An  im- 
mortality on  earth  would  be  chosen  rather.  This  Ls  not  to 
desire  heaven  as  its  blessedness  or  chief  good  ;  for  what- 
soever I  desire  as  such,  I  desire  absolutely."  'Tis  impos- 
sible I  can  take  that  for  my  chief  good,  which  I  would  be 
content  never  to  enjoy.  As  much  as  they  pretend  to  desire 
heaven,  yet  they  wish  never  to  come  there,  if  they  could 
stay  in  this  world  always,  and  have  what  it  affijrds  them. 
Therefore,  I  say,  they  most  absurdly  pretend  to  hope  for 
that  heaven,  as  their  best  good,  which  they  don't  so  much 
as  desire  ever  to  enjoy.     And, 

3.  There  is  a  great  deal  of  absurdity  in  the  pretence 
upon  this  account,  that  ver)^  often  it  is  to  be  seen  through. 
It  is  so  thin  and  slight  a  cover  that  any  eye  may  even  see 
through  it.  All  who  are  hyptx^rites  are  not  artificial  ones  : 
there  are  a  great  many  hypocrites,  and  the  far  greater  part 
of  them,  who  are  mere  biuiglers  at  it;  they  are  hypocrues 
without  any  skill  or  artifice ;  and  so  they  take  up  a  j.re- 
tence  which  any  body,  with  half  an  eye,  may  penetrate 
and  see  through.  As  if,  for  example,  a  person  who  pre- 
tends to  be  a  subject  of  God's  kingdom,  and  yet  makes  it 
manifest  in  the  course  of  his  conversation  that  he  stands 
in  no  aM'e  of  God  at  all,  which  is  a  prime  thing  in  that 
subjection.  So  the  case  is  very  often,  as  the  Psalmist  lakes 
notice,  (Psalm  xxxvL  beginning,)  The  wickedness  of  the 
wicked  sailh  in  my  heart,  the  fear  of  God  is  not  before 
his  eyes.  His  wickedness  speaks  in  my  heart,  that  he  is 
one  fearless  of  God,  and  who  star.ds  in  no  awe  of  him. 
So  it  is  with  many  a  man  who  professes  somewhat  of  re- 
ligion, that  is,  who  doth  not  profess  atheism,  or  rebellion 
against  heaven ;  yet  the  wickedness  of  his  course  and 
practice  is  such  as  to  speak  in  another  man's  heart,  sure 
this  man  has  no  fear  of  God  before  his  eyes.  Now  how 
absurd  is  this,  to  put  on  a  covering  and  disgui.<:e,  which 
doth  not  hide  a  man  at  all  !  The  whole  course  of  their 
lives  proclaims  them  to  be  no  other  than  earthly,  carnal 
worldlings,  while  they  pretend  to  be  designing  for  heaven  ; 
for  every  one  who  professes  a  relation  to  this  kingdom,  is 
understood  to  stand  related  not  only  to  the  inchoate  but 
the  consummate  state  of  it,  or  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 
But  while  they  pretend  themselves  to  do  so,  the  pretence 
is  easily  to  be  seen  tli rough,  and  they  who  observe  the  or- 
dinarv  course  of  their  conversation,  discourses,  and  de- 
signs,"easily  see  that  the)-  are  mere  compositions  of  earth ; 
and  unless  j'ou  can  suppose  a  clod  of  clay  can  be  carried 
up  into  heaven,  they  are  never  like  to  come  there.  It  is  to 
be  seen  that  they  are  men,  as  it  were  made  of  earth  ;  and 
all  their  discourses,  converses,  actions,  and  designs,  smell 
of  earth.  It  is  therefore  observable,  that  no  man  can  make 
himself  "more  ridiculous,  than  when  he  takes  upon  himself 
to  act  a  part,  to  act  it  partially,  and  when  he  goes  to  per- 
sonate another  man,  to  do  it  absurdly:  why  he  had  better 
have  contented  himself  to  have  appeared  only  in  his  own 
likeness,  and  in  his  natural  face  and  posture.  Thus  the 
case  is  with  such  hvpoc rites;  they  do,  it  maybe,  disguise 
themselves  quoad  hoc,  as  to  this  particular  thing;  but  then 
they  lay  themselves  open  in  something  or  other  else.  Just 
as  if  some  vain  person  should  mightily  pride  himself  in 
some  gay  rich  apparel,  which  he  had  thrown  on  upon 
some  part  of  him ;  and  all  the  other  parts  appeared  clothed 
with  nothing  but  rags,  or  expo-^^ed  to  view  more  shameful 
nakedness.  How  ridiculous  should  we  account  such  a 
person  !     And, 

4.  The  pretence  with  many  is  an  evanid  thing,  and  soon 
vanishes  awav.  And  then  how  great  is  the  absurdity  to 
make  myself  be  thought,  if  I  could  then  succeed  so  far  to 
be  thought,  such  a  one  yesterday,  and  to-day  discover  m};- 
self  to  be  quite  another!  They  who  pretend  to  be  of  this 
kingdom  of  God,  and  the  appearance  from  whence  they 
would  gain  to  themselves  that  estimate  and  reputation,  be- 


524 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT 


Serm.  VII. 


mg  notlimg  that  hath  life  in  it;  as  not  being  born  or  con- 
natural to  the  new  creature ;  it  will  then  soon  be  a  with- 
ering and  vanishing  thing.  As  Job  speaks  of  the  hypo- 
crite ;  Can  a  rush  grow  without  mire  1  Job  viii.  11.  Can 
there  be  verdure  and  greenness,  and  fair  appearance,  and 
nothing  at  all  to  maintain  it  1  A  mere  spider's  web,  such 
a  thing  is  the  best  pretence  of  the  hypocrite ;  why,  how 
soon  is  it  swept  away !  It  is  very  apparent,  that  the  living 
I'oot  being  wanting,  that  which  is  merely  external  of  a 
person's  religion,  will  in  tract  of  lime  become  tiresome, 
and  he  will  be  very  well  content  to  throw  it  away  himself, 
when  he  finds  it  to  be  for  convenience.  So  we  find  Job 
speaking  again  concerning  the  hypocrite,  chap,  xxvii. 
10.  win  he  delight  himself  in  the  Almighty!  Will  he 
always  call  upon  God  1  That  is,  he  will  not  be  always 
religious ;  for  calling  upon  God  (here,  is  only  a  synech- 
dochal  expression  for  religion  in  general.  Will  he  always 
call  upon  God  1  No,  surely ;  for  he  doth  not  delight  him- 
self in  the  Almighty,  and  hath  not  a  temper  of  spirit  suited 
to  God;  the  habitual  disposition  of  his  soul  is  opposite 
and  averse  ;  God  is  one  in  whom  he  can  take  no  pleasure ; 
and  then  you  may  be  sure  he  will  not  call  upon  him 
always;  his  religion  will  have  an. end,  and  he  will  soon 
grow  weary.  And  how  absurd  a  thing  is  it  to  take  up 
and  wear  a  while  a  disguise,  and  have  afterwards  a  kind 
of  an  unhappy  necessity  come  upon  me  to  have  it  made 
appear,  I  did  but  act  a  part,  and  no  more  !  That  is  the 
first  thing.     But, 

2.  It  is  without  any  valuable  design.  For  what  is  there 
to  be  got  by  it,  for  a  man  to  pretend  himself  to  be  a  loyal 
subject  of  God's  kingdom,  who  never  had  his  heart  changed 
and  renewed,  and  made  suitable  to  the  laws  and  constitu- 
tions of  if?  Why  certainly  nothing  worth  designing, 
whether  yon  consider  the  matter  with  reference  to  God  or 
man.  In  reference  to  man  ;  him  indeed  you  may  deceive ; 
but  that  is  to  no  purpose.  In  reference  to  God,  though 
that  were  to  never  so  great  a  purpose,  yet  him  you  can 
never  deceive.  'Tis  true  you  may  deceive  man  ;  but  what 
is  to  be  got  by  it  1  What  is  the  hope  of  a  hypocrite  though 
he  gain,  when  God  takes  away  his  soul  ?  Job  xxvii.  8. 
Alas !  what  a  pitiful  little  will  the  greatest  gain  dwindle 
into,  when  Gqd  comes  to  take  away  his  soul  1  What  is  he 
the  better  for  it  thenl 

But  as  to  God,  what  rational  design  can  a  man  form  to 
himself,  in  reference  to  him,  by  pretending  to  be  what  in 
this  case  he  is  not  1 

1.  It  is  plain  he  can  never  deceive  God  by  that  pretence. 
"  Be  not  deceived,  God  is  not  mocked."  You  do  but  de- 
ceive yourselves,  as  if  he  had  said,  by  attempting  to  de- 
ceive him.  Every  man  shall  reap  as  he  sows;  he  who 
sows  to  the  flesh,  shall  of  the  flesh  reap  corruption  ;  he 
who  sows  to  the  Spirit,  shall  of  the  Spirit  reap  life  ever- 
lasting, Gal.  vi.  8.  You  do  but  deceive  yourselves,  and 
not  at  all  impose  upon  God,  if  being  flesh  you  look  for  any 
better  issue  of  things,  than  what  is  suitable  to  your  slate 
and  temper  ;  and  if  not  being  spiritual  you  have  any  ex- 
pectations of  that  state  of  blessedness,  which  is  only  agree- 
able to  such  a  temper.  That  puts  the  matter  quite  out  of 
doubt,  you  cannot  deceive  God  in  the  case.     But, 

2.  You  will  highly  provoke  him,  even  by  an  attempt  of 
it,  or  admitting  an  imagination  in  )rour  own  hearts,  that 
you  can  do  it.  For  what  higher  an  affront  can  we  put 
upon  the  infinite  and  eternal  God,  than  to  suppose  him 
like  one  of  the  idol  gods  of  the  nations,  who  hath  eyes  to 
sees,  and  sees  not  1  Who  would  ever  worship  him  as  a 
deity,  whom  we  think  we  could  impose  upon  by  a  lie,  or 
a  false  appearance  1  Indeed  there  cannot  be  a  greater 
absurdity,  and  no  man  can  act  more  inconsistently  with 
him.self,  than  at  once  to  profess  homage  to  an  object,  and 
think  it  possible  at  the  same  time  to  impose  a  cheat  upon 
it.  It  is  truly  to  deface  my  own  act :  I  give  him  worship ; 
that  carries  the  face  and  appearance  of  very  high  thoughts 
which  I  have  of  him,  and  as  if  I  took  him  for  a  very  ex- 
cellent being ;  but  to  think  to  impose  upon  him  by  a  piece 
of  falsehood,  that  carries  the  appearance  of  the  meanest 
and  most  despicable  thou^'hts  of  him  which  can  be  irna- 
gined.  And  therefore  we  find  with  what  severity  the  holy 
God  speaks,  in  that  case,  of  any  man,  who  does  "but  say  in 
his  heart,  I  shall  have  peace,  "though  he  walks  after  the 
imaginations  of  his  heart :  My  jealousy  shall  smoke  against 


that  man,  Deut.  xxix.  19.  "  What,  will  he  take  up  such 
contemptuous  thoughts  of  me  1  I  will  make  him  pay  dear 
for  that  very  thought,  a,nd  my  jealousy  shall  sn^oke  against 
him." 

3.  By  this  attempt  to  impose  upon  the  blessed  God  by 
false  appearances,  we  bring  in  veiy  pregnant  convictive 
testimony  against  our  own  souls.  Hypocrisy  always  does 
that.  There  is  no  man  who  plays  the  hypocrite,  but  that 
which  he  counterl'eits,  and  whereof  he  puts  on  the  appear- 
ance, he  doth  thereby  proclaim  it  to  be  good,  and  valu- 
able.; otherwise  why  doth  he  imitate  or  counterfeit"? 
People  are  not  M'ont  to  put  on  a  false  appearance,  to  make 
themselves  seem  worse  than  they  are,  but  to  make  them- 
selves appear  better  :  and  their  very  practice  in  this  thing 
carries  this  testimony  with  it  against  themselves,  that  they 
judge  that  to  be  better,  and  yet  decline  it.  They  judge 
that  to  be  a  good  whereof  they  thought  fit  to  clothe  them- 
selves with  the  show;  they  practically  acknowledge  it  to 
be  a  good,  and  thereby  give  a  mighty  testimony  against 
themselves.  Thou  thoughtest  it  a  good  and  desirable 
thing  to  be  a  Christian;  otherwise  why  didst  thou  seem 
one  1  to  be  sincere;  otherwise  why  didst  thou  pretend  to 
it1  And  if  thou  dost  think  so,  why  didst  thou  not  aim  to 
be  such  a  one  1     Beside, 

4.  They  hereby  lose  the  opportunity  which  they  might 
otherwise  have  had  of  becoming  what  they  seemed  to  be. 
The  moralist  speaks  about  the  business  of  wisdom,  Multi 
ad  sapie?it.iain'pcrrenissent,  nisi  se  ad  sapientiam  pervenisse 
futaranL :  Many  had  attained  to  be  wise,  had  they  not 
thought  themselves  to  be  already  so.  If  they  had  not  co- 
zened themselves  with  the  appearance  of  it,  manj^  might 
have  come  to  have  been  sincere.  And  'tis  a  miserable 
thing  to  please  oneself  wkh  the  shadow,  all  that  time 
wherein  one  should  have  been  getting  the  substance,  till 
the,  time  is  expired  and  gone. 

But  here  now  a  question  may  perhaps  arise,  by  some 
such  person  or  other,  who  may  fear  himself  not  yet  lo  be 
sincere,  and  may  therefore  say,  "  What  am  I  to  do  in  this 
case  1  while  I  think  I  am  not  sincere,  and  while  perhaps 
that  really  is  my  case  7  Am  I  to  throw  away  all  my  pro- 
fession 7  Or  am  I  to  profess  enmity  against  God!  Being 
not  yet  regenerate,  and  therefore  not  yet  a  subject,  must  I 
therefore  profess  myself  a  rebel "?"  It  would  be  very  easy 
to  discover  what  is  duty  in  this  case,  if  we  do  but  consider 
and  fasten  u})on  what  is  only  faulty  in  it.  Now  whereso- 
ever there  is  hypocrisy  there  must  be  some  good  wanting; 
and  there  must  be  the  present  appearance  and  semblance 
of  that  good  which  is  wanting.  Thus  it  is  in  the  present 
case.  This  good  is  wanting,  a  real  subjection  of  heart 
and  spirit  to  the  laws  and  constitution  of  God's  spiritual 
kingdom,  which  is  only  brought  about  by  the  new  birth. 
Well,  but  here  is  the  appearance  of  it  too,  else  there  could 
not  be  hypocrisj'.  Now  let  us  consider  where  the  fault 
lies  in  this  case  :  the  fault  cannot  lie  simply  in  the  ap- 
pearance, but  only  as  it  is  untrue;  for  there  are  true  ap- 
pearances, as  well  as  false.  The  appearance  therefore  is 
upon  no  other  account  faulty,  but  as  it  is  false  ;  for  if  the 
good  were  there,  whereof  there  is  tlie  appearance,  the  ap- 
pearance would  not  only  be  lawful,  but  a  duty.  We  are 
to  hold  forth  the  word  of  life,  by  which  we  have  been 
made  to  live;  as  the  apostle  directs,  Phil.  ii.  16.  Now 
therefore  inasmuch  as  the  fault  here  is,  that  while  there 
is  such  an  appearance,  that  good  doth  not  subessc,  there 
is  not  that  good  underneath  which  there  ought  to  he  ;  so 
the  thing  now  to  be  done,  is  not  to  throw  away  the  ap- 
pearance, but  to  have  the  good  .supplied;  that  is,  in  this 
case,  to  be  restlessly  intent  to  obtain  that  Spirit,  and  the 
vital  influences  and  operations  of  it,  by  which  that  great 
transforming  work  may  be  done.  And  how  great  encou- 
ragement is  there  for  this  at  his  hand,  who  hath  told  us, 
that  if  earthly  parents,  who  are  evil,  will  give  good  gifts 
to  their  children  ;  bread  rather  than  a  stone  ;  a  fish  rather 
than  a  scorpion ;  how  much  rather  will  our  heavenly 
Father  give  the  Holy  Spirit  to  them  who  ask  it !  It  is  not 
because  this  Spirit  is  out  of  our  power,  and  not  at  our 
command,  that  we  have  not  the  influences  and  operations 
of  it,  according  to  our  need  ;  but  because  we  apprehend 
not,  and  will  not  admit  the  seriou.s  apprehension,  of  our 
need.  It  is  a  kind  of  contempt  of  this  blessed  Spirit  that 
these  pleasant  vital  influences  are  so  little  valued  by  crea- 


Sekm.  VIII. 


IN  REFERENCE  TO  PARTICULAR  PERSONS. 


525 


tu res  lost  in  darkness  and  death;  that  we  rather  content 
ourselv-es  to  be  desolate,  and  seem  careless  whether  we 
live  or  die  for  the  present;  or  are  happy  or  miserable  to 
all  eternity.  It  is  upon  such  accounts  as  these  that  the 
blessed  Spirit,  though  the  Author  and  Fountain  of  all  love, 
and  goodness,  and  benignity,  and  sweetness,  retires  ;  and 
that  resolution  seems  taken  up,  "  My  Spirit  shall  no  longer 
strive."  It  is  no  wonder  if  it  don't,  when  there  is  so  liitle 
apprehension  of  our  need  of  him,  so  little  dependance 
upon  him;  so  little  craving,  and  seeking,  and  solicitude, 
whether  it  be  an  indweller  in  our  souls,  or  no  :  as  if  the 
doctrine  of  the  Holy  Ghost  were  a  strange  and  new  thing 
to  our  ears  ;  or  we  had  not  yet  heard  whether  there  was  a 
Holy  Ghost  or  no. 


SERMON  VIII.* 

Several  inferences  have  been  recommended  to  you  al- 
ready, and  others  remain  to  be  added.     As, 

5.  Inference, — That  the  depravation  of  a  man's  nature 
in  the  state  of  apostacy  is  total. — Being  born  denotes  a 
total  production,  and  the  thing  produced  is  only  somewhat 
substituted  in  the  room  of  the  nature  depraved :  and  what 
Avas  corrupted  and  what  is  substituted  instead  of  it,  must 
necessarily  be  commensurate  and  proportionable  to  one 
another.  If  a  man  should  have  a  leg  or  arm  perish,  he 
would  not  say,  the  production  of  that  arm  was  a  being 
born ;  for  being  born  is  the  production  of  all  the  parts  to- 
gether, not  of  this  or  that  single  part  alone.  And  hence 
it  is  that  that  which  is  corrupted,  and  that  which  is  anew 
produced,  are  in  Scrijiture  spoken  of  under  the  name  of  a 
man  ;  an  old  man,  and  a  new  man.  The  frame  of  graces, 
that  impress  of  holiness,  wherein  the  new  creature  doih 
consi.st,  must  be  understood  to  be  a  whole  entire  body  of 
graces;  as  the  sins  which  meet  together  originally  in  the 
nature  of  man,  are  called  by  the  name  of  the  body  of  the 
sins  of  the  flesh,  which  is  to  be  destroyed  ;  and  elsewhere, 
the  body  of  sin.  It  is  therefore  a  forlorn  miserable  state 
that  men  are  antecedently  in  to  their  being  born  spirit  of 
spirit.  And  it  is  of  no  small  consequence,  that  it  be  dis- 
tinctly understood,  and  sink  into  our  hearts,  that  this  depra- 
vation is  total,  and  that  we  need  to  be  made  new  through- 
out. As  we  have  it  in  2  Cor.  v.  17.  If  any  man  be  in  Christ 
he  is  a  new  creature  ;  old  things  are  passed  away,  and  all 
things  are  become  new.  Where  this  is  not  understood,  it 
is  of  most  unhappy  consequence  in  these  two  respects — 1. 
Men  take  not  up  right  thoughts  of  the  distressedness  of 
their  own  case ; — and,  2.  By  consequence  they  never  apply 
themselves  to  the  proper  business  of  the  redress  of  it. 

I.  They  never  take  up  right  thoughts  of  the  wretched- 
ness of  their  own  case.  They  understand  neither  the  ex- 
tent of  it,  nor  wherein  it  doth  especially  consist.  They 
understand  not  how  extensive  it  is  in  a  twofold  respect, 
that  is,  to  the  subject  disaffected,  and  the  object  whereunto 
they  are  disaffected.  There  is  a  twofold  totality  to  be 
considered  in  this  matter,  both  subjective  and  objective. 
The  subject  is  disaffected  universally  in  every  faculty  ;  the 
mind,  and  judgment,  and  will,  and  conscience,  and  affec- 
tions, and  executive  powers  ;  and  by  a  kind  of  participa- 
tion, the  whole  outward  man.  The  apostle  applying  pas- 
sages out  of  the  Old  Testament,  runs  over  the  several 
parts;  Their  throat  is  an  open  sepulchre,  the  poison  of 
asps  is  under  their  lips,  their  feet  make  haste  to  shed  blood, 
&c.  Rom.  iii.  This  is  little  apprehended  by  them  v;ho 
consider  not  the  work  to  be  wrought  under  the  notion  of 
a  birth,  which  suppo.ses  the  antecedent  corruption,  which 
always  leads  the  way  to  generation,  to  have  been  univer- 
sal and  total. 

And  it  is  as  little  considered,  that  this  disaffection,  as  it 
hath  spread  itself  through  the  whole  subject ;  so  it  refers 
to  the  whole  object,  which  they  ought  to  be  otherwise  af- 
fected to  :  that  is,  the  whole  law  of  God,  or  the  entire  sum 
of  their  dutv.  They  make  nothing  of  it,  considered  as  a 
duty  and  enjoined  by  God,  and  whereby  they  pay  a  respect 
and  homage  to  him ;  and  indeed  every  act  of  duty  should 
*  Prcaolied  Fcl).  6tli,  1677,  at  Cordwainer's  Hull. 


be  in  that  regard  an  act  of  religion  ;  and  that  religion  is 
of  no  value,  if  this  don't  run  through  it,  and  is  only  the 
body  and  carcass  of  it,  but  not  the  soul  and  spirit.  This 
is  not  understood,  that  in  reference  to  every  part  of  duty 
which  is  enjoined,  there  is  a  disaffection  in  the  spirits  of 
men,  and  they  are  to  every  good  work  reprobate:  i.  e.  they 
don't  know  how  to  make  proof  of  themselves,  or  approve 
themselves  in  any  work  they  undertake  which  is  truly 
good  ;  and  cannot  accordingly  be  approved  of  God  in 
what  they  do  or  go  about. 

But  besides  that  the  extent  of  this  wretched  ca.se  is  nr<« 
understood  by  such  as  don't  consider,  that  a  total  depri- 
vation is  now  befallen  the  nature  of  man  ;  so  that  is  waivei' 
and  overlooked  which  is  the  special  thing  in  resjiect  bot t 
of  the  object  and  subject,  wherein  the  misery  of  their  ca^r 
doth  more  principally  lie  :  that  is,  in  respect  of  the  su.- 
ject,  the  principal  depravation  is  in  the  heart ;  in  respe-j: 
of  the  object,  the  principal  is  towards  God  himself  Tru* 
it  is  indeed  tliat  by  the  corruption  which  hath  spread  itself 
through  the  world,  men  are  become  liateful  to  God,  and 
haters  of  one  another;  very  ill-tempered  towards  one  an- 
other ;  but  we  may  observe  that  men  are  a  great  deal  more 
easily  brought  to  civility,  than  religion  ;  and  are  with 
much  less  ado,  whatever  their  tempers  and  dispositions 
are,  brought  to  be  kind  one  to  another,  than  to  take  up 
loyal  and  dutiful  affections  towards  God,  and  deport  them- 
selves suitably  towards  him.  Nothing  is  more  plain  thar. 
that  this  depravedness  which  is  in  the  spirits  of  men,  arA 
which  this  begetting  them  of  the  Spirit  is  to  cure,  hath  T^: 
its  principal  subject  and  seat,  the  heart ;  and  for  the  prin- 
cipal object,  the  blessed  God.  That  is,  the  heart,  as  that 
doth  contain  within  the  compass  of  it,  the  judgment,  will, 
and  affections  of  the  soul,  will  by  no  means  endure  to  be 
exercised  about  God.  Notional  thoughts  men  can  tell  how 
to  employ  about  him,  without  any  great  trouble  to  them- 
selves ;  they  regret  it  not ;  but  deeply  to  consider,  and 
with  a  design  to  choose  him  as  their  God;  to  desire  after 
him,  to  love  him,  and  delight  in  him,  and  fear  before  him 
as  such  ;  therein  the  great  disaffection  of  the  spirit  of  a 
man  towards  God  doth  especially  discover  itself.  This 
men  will  not  understand,  while  they  apprehend  not  that 
the  thing  to  be  effected  by  regeneration,  is  to  make  them 
new  at  the  heart;  and  to  renew  the  heart  principally  to- 
wards God  :  "  Create  in  me  a  clean  heart,  O  God  ;  renev/ 
a  right  spirit  within  me."  When  once  that  worn  is  dons, 
then  this  becomes  the  sense  and  posture  of  the  soul ;  "  As 
the  heart  panteth  after  the  water  brooks,  so  panieth  my  soul 
after  thee,  O  God."  A  renewed  soul  presently  turns  itself 
to  God,  and  hath  a  bias  put  upon  it,  which  inclines  it  to- 
wards him :  "  Whom  have  I  in  heaven  but  thee  ?  and  there 
is  none  on  earth  I  desire  in  comparison  of  thee."  He  is 
singled  out  as  the  one  Good,  in  which  the  soul  doth  centre 
and  rest;  "  One  thing  have  I  desired  of  the  Lord,  that  I 
may  dwell  in  the  house  of  the  Lord  for  ever :"  i.  e.  dwell 
in  the  Divine  presence,  and  be  alwa3's  nigh  to  God. 

But  this  great  disaffection  of  the  heart  towards  God,  is 
still  overlooked  b}'  the  generality  of  men,  as  if  thej'  did 
not  need  to  be  cured  in  this  respect.  And  herein  they  are 
verv  much  confirmed,  because  it  is  become  .so  cuslomar}'  a 
thing  never  to  make  such  kind  of  reflections  upon  them- 
selves which  may  naturally  and  probably  lead  to  the  dis- 
covery of  their  case,  in  this  reerard.  Men  don't  compare 
themselves  with  the  rule,  and  what  it  requires  the  dispo- 
sitions of  men's  .spirits  to  God  should  be.  It  summarily 
snith,  "  LoAe  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  soul,  and  all 
thy  strength,  and  all  thy  mind."  And  ihey  don't  com- 
pare themselves  with  the  examples  of  holy  men  ;  for  such 
they  can't  but  read  of,  if  they  consult  their  Bibles;  and 
such  they  may  possibly  sometimes  converse  with,  who  cari 
say  somewhat  of  the  disposition  of  their  spirits  towards 
God  ;  how  pleasant  it  is  to  be  conversant  with  him  ;  how 
they  can  entertain  themselves  in  solitude,  and  what  a  so- 
lace it  is  to  a  vacant  and  leisure  hour,  wherein  they  can 
be  entirelv  taken  up  in  conversing  with  God.  They  don't 
compare  themselves  with  the  rule,  or  wiih  other  holy  men  ; 
but  they  compare  themselves,  as  the  apostle  speaks,  with 
themselves,  (2  Cor.  x.  12.)  and  so  ihey  are  not  wise,  or 
never  come  to  understand  themselves.  They  only  com- 
pare themselves  with  themselves;  and  they  find  they  agree 


526 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT 


Serm.  VIll. 


with  themselves  well  enough ;  that  is,  they  are  such  to-day 
as  they  were  yesterday  ;  and  this  week,  as  last ;  and  tliis 
year,  as  the  year  before,  and  for  many  years  past.  They 
agree  with  themselves  very  well,  and  so  only  comparing 
themselves  with  themselves,  they  never  come  to  under- 
stand the  case.  And  this  is  very  natural  for  men  to  do, 
and  not  to  compare  themselves  with  any  thing  which  will 
be  a  reproof  to  them,  or  look  ill  upon  them.  And  indeed 
if  they  took  measure  of  their  own  spirits  by  the  rule,  or 
by  another  good  and  holy  man,  they  would  say,  "  Things 
are  not  so  with  me  as  they  should  be,  and  as  with  such 
and  such  it  is."  When  I  put  myself  upon  atrial,  I  find  I 
have  no  disposition  of  heart  to  love  God  ;  good  thoughts 
of  him  are  not  at  all  delightful  to  me.  But  when  they 
compare  themselves  with  themselves,  they  can  say,  "  I 
don't  vary  from  myself;  just  such  a  temper  of  spirit  as  I 
had,  I  have."  And  so  they  think  all  is  well,  and  never 
grow  wise,  or  come  to  be  instructed  concerning  the  truth 
of  their  case.  But  if  this  great  principle  of  truth  could 
once  obtain  to  be  fixed  in  tlie  minds  of  men,  that  there 
hath  been  a  total  depravation,  and  their  whole  souls  are 
disaffected  to  the  whole  of  their  duty;  and  especially  to- 
wards God,  and  all  that  duty  which  more  immediately 
terminates  on  him;  they  would  have  quite  other  thoughts 
concerning  the  disfressedness  of  their  case,  than  is  com- 
mon with  them.  And  'tis  of  ill  consequence  that  so  plain 
and  great  a  truth  as  this  is  overlooked. 

2dly,  Hence  also  they  apprehend  not  wherein  their  re- 
dress must  lie.  They  are  apt  either  to  think  that  some 
partial  reformation  is  sufficient,  and  if  they  are  reformed  a 
little  in  this  or  that  particular  thing,  then  matters  will  be 
right  and  good,  and  will  be  well  with  them.  If  the  drunkard 
take  up  and  become  sober,  he  thinks  concerning  himself, 
that  he  is  a  new  man.  If  an  unjust  person  admit  a  con- 
viction, or  it  may  be,  is  taught  a  little  prudence  by  ob- 
serving how  much  any  thing  of  that  kind  reflects  upon 
his  reputation,  and  so  he  orders  his  affairs  with  more  ex- 
actness, he  is  ready  to  look  upon  himself  as  regenerate. 
But  if  it  were  considered  that  there  must  be  a  being  born, 
and  that  I  am  in  a  total  corruption;  surely  another  cure 
would  be  thought  of  than  that,  and  it  would  appear  no 
more  proportionable  to  the  case,  than  a  man  whose  body 
was  all  over  leprous,  and  full  of  sores,  would  acquiesce 
in  the  cure  of  a  slight  scratch  in  his  little  finger. 

And  as  they  apprehend  such  a  partial  reformation  suf- 
ficient, so  they  apprehend  too  from  hence,  that  a  vital  prin- 
ciple is  unnecessary.  It  is  very  true  indeed,  that  with 
only  some  partial  maim  a  principle  of  life  may  consist, 
but  a  universal  corruption  imports  death.  If  the  case 
were  therefore  understood  aright,  men  would  see  it  ne- 
cessary in  order  to  their  cure,  that  they  should  be  made 
alive,  and  a  principle  of  life  put  into  them;  which  a  total 
depravation  speaks  to  be  absent.  They  would  never  think 
themselves  well  till  then,  and  would  find  that  as  they  are 
alienated  from  the  life  of  God  ;  so  their  business  was  to  be 
made  alive  to  God,  and  to  Jesus  Christ,  as  those  who  have 
been  dead.     But  again, 

6.  Inference. — Since  in  order  to  any  one's  partaking  of 
God's  kingdom,  he  must  be  born  spirit  of  spirit,  we  infer 
further,  that  whosoever  becomes  truly  and  sincerely  reli- 
gious, a  new  creature  is  transmitted  and  communicated  to 
him. — This  being  not  understood,  it  is  all  a  man's  busi- 
ness, to  contrive  and  form  for  himself  an  artificial  reli- 
gion ;  and  there  are  several  sad  consequences  ensue  there- 
upon.    As, 

1.  Men  attempt  to  perform  what  is  proper  to  the  Divine 
life  without  it.  The  actions  of  the  Divine  life  which  are 
visible  to  men,  carry  a  kind  of  amiableness  in  them,  in 
the  common  consciences  of  men ;  and  they  attempt  those 
actions  which  are  done  from  a  principle  of  life,  without 
considering,  that  to  be  sincerely  religious,  is  to  have  a 
new  nature.  They  think  to  do  these  actions  without  that 
life  ;  just  as  he  who  is  observed  in  story,  to  have  attempted 
the  setting  up  of  a  carcass  of  one  newly  dead :  he  would 
fain  have  it  stand  in  the  posture  of  a  living  body,  but  how 
to  make  it  stand  so  he  knew  not.  The  head  falls  one  way, 
and  the  hands  another,  and  the  legs  tremble  under  it :  at 
last  he  cries  out,  ^'Deest  aliquid  intus,  There  wants  some- 
thing wilMn."  Just  so  do  men  busy  themselves  to  make 
an  artificial  frame,  which  is  indeed  a  dead  carcass  of  reli- 


gion ;  they  can't  tell  how  to  inspirit  it,  and  it  will  upon  no 
terms  do,  but  hang  and  waver  this  way  and  that.  And 
hence  therefore, 

2.  All  the  actions  of  religion  become  exceeding  grievous 
and  irksome,  and  no  pleasure  is  taken  in  them.  You 
know  it  is  a  very  easy  thing  for  a  man  to  move  to  and  fro 
his  own  living  body,  where  he  will;  pass  into  a  speedy  or 
slower  motion,  as  he  sees  cause,  without  any  considerable 
pain  or  difficulty;  but  it  would  be  a  very  tedious  thing  to 
move  to  and  fro  a  dead  carcass;  that  would  put  him  to 
greater  pain.  Here  lies  the  difference  between  these  two 
sorts  of  men  ;  a  man  truly  religiou.s,  and  who  therefore 
hath  a  new  creature  communicated  to  him,  (as  there  is 
where  any  are  begotten,)  and  other  men.  When  any  don't 
consider  this,  their  business  is  to  make  up  an  external 
frame  of  religion,  and  to  act  and  move  and  carry  it  to  and 
fro  with  them ;  and  that  is  alike  burdensome  as  for  a  living 
man  to  move  to  and  fro  a  dead  carcass.  But  to  one  who 
is  truly  and  spiritually  alive,  his  new  nature  which  is  com- 
municated to  him,  doth  in  a  natural  way  animate  the 
frame  of  religion,  in  which  he  is  to  act ;  so  that  the  actions 
of  it  are  easy  and  light,  as  all  the  acts  of  nature  are. 

3.  Hence  it  is,  that  they  are  so  manifestly  defective  im- 
itations of  religion.  Their  attempts  and  essays  to  do  like 
religious  men,  have  notorious  and  observable  flaws  in 
them,  because  they  do  not  consider,  there  must  be  given  a 
new  nature,  before  I  become  truly  religious.  Some  think 
it  is  only  to  do  as  men  are  taught,  or  only  as  a  piece  of 
art.  And  when  we  go  to  imitate  only  a  natural  action, 
there  will  be  some  very  observable  flaw  and  defect,  some 
visible  disparity  in  the  attempt ;  as  if  you  should  make  a 
puppet  act  just  like  a  living  child,  the  difference  would  be 
soon  discovered.     And  hence, 

4.  Religion  comes  to  be  given  over.  Whereas  where  it 
ever  comes  to  be  taken  up  as  an  artificial  thing,  it  is  taken 
up  on  design  of  some  present  advantage  and  convenience; 
therefore  if  the  inconveniences  which  shall  come  to  you 
thereby  be  greater  by  continuing  it  than  laying  it  aside, 
the  reason  why  it  was  taken  up  being  vanished,  itself  must 
needs  cease.  If  the  conveniences  are  not  greater  in  a 
course  of  religion,  than  the  inconveniences  they  sought  to 
avoid,  the  religion  itself  must  needs  cease  of  course  ;  and 
so  it  commonly  doth.  But  where  religion  is  in  a  man  as 
a  nature,  it  can't  do  so.  I  can  easily  lay  aside  my  cloak., 
but  not  my  flesh,  which  is  vitally  united  wilh  me,  and  is 
one  thing  with  me,  by  a  principle  of  life  which  runs 
through  me..  It  is  therefore  of  great  concernment  truly 
and  thoroughly  to  understand  this,  that  wherever  any  be- 
come truly  religious,  a  new  nature  is  communicated.  Be- 
ing taught  only  signifies  the  acquisitions  of  art ;  but  being 
born,  and  principled,  and  constituted  of  such  a  complex- 
ion, signifies  a  stayed  invariable  principle  of  those  actions 
which  proceed  from  it. 

7.  Inference — That  the  constitution  of  God's  kingdom 
must  needs  be  spiritual ;  for  men  are  born  into  it  spirit  of 
spirit. — It  hath  been  a  great  modern  controversy,  as  well 
as  an  ancient  one,  among  philosophers,  whether  the  con- 
stitution of  the  universe  is  oi  primnrdia,  which  are  mecha- 
nical, or  spermetical  and  vital.  It  is  a  dangerous  thing 
when  this  comes  to  be  a  matter  of  doubt  in  religion,  whe- 
ther the  constitution  of  this  divine  kingdom  is  mechani- 
cal or  vital.  According  as  the  greater  part  of  men  prac- 
tise, and  as  their  habitual  temper  is,  it  seems  as  if  it  were 
thought  that  Christianity  is  nothing  else  but  a  piece  of  me- 
chanism. But  certainly  if  you  are  born  into  this  king- 
dom, as  they  who  come  truly  into  it  spirit  of  spirit :  then 
the  constitution  of  this  kingdom  is  not  mechanical,  or  an 
artificial  contexture  of  things ;  but  a  frame  of  things 
which  doth  in  a  spiritually-natural  way  grow  up  towards 
that  pilch  it  is  designed  to  ;  and  is  that  spirit  of  life  which 
doth  diffuse  itself  through  all  the  mystical  body  of  Christ ; 
which  makes  the  connexion  between  part  and  part,  and 
keeps  the  body  entire  and  firm  to  itself,  and  makes  it  a 
consistent  and  stable  thing.  And  hereupon  it  must  needs 
be  consequent, 

1.  That  whatever  there  is  of  disagreement  among  Chris- 
tians, who  are  the  living  members  of  this  kingdom  and 
body,  it  must  needs  be  unnatural.  The  reason  is,  that  all 
who  are  of  this  kingdom,  and  truly  belonging  to  it,  are 
born  into  it,  and  in  that  birth  partake  of  one  and  the  same 


Serm.  VIII. 


IN  REFERENCE  TO  PARTICULAR  PERSONS. 


527 


nature,  by  which  they  are  connaturalized  to  one  another, 
and  to  their  common  Lord  and  Head  ;  He  who  saiictifieth, 
and  they  who  are  sanciilied,  are  all  of  one,  (Heb.  ii.  11.) 
or  make  one  entire  piece.  Wherefore  now  what  there  is 
of  disagreement  among  Christians,  must  needs  be  preter- 
naturaf,  and  beside  nature.  And  hence  it  is  consequent, 
that  it  must  needs  proceed  from  ill  designs  :  that  is,  from 
the  devil  and  his  instruments,  who  make  it  their  business, 
what  they  can,  to  act  persons  diversely ;  when  if  these 
things  be  left  to  their  natural  course,  and  the  new  nature 
in  men  is  permitted  to  act  undisturbedly,  and  according 
to  Its  genuine  tendency,  it  would  all  run  one  way.  It  is 
needful  to  be  well  aware  of  this,  whatever  there  is  of  dis- 
agreement is  accidental  to  it,  and  certainly  proceeds  from 
a  foreign  enemy,  and  somewliat  without  it,  which  sets  such 
things  on  foot,  and  keeps  them  on  foot,  with  an  ill  design 
towards  this  kingdom.  If  the  new  nature  did  run  its  course, 
and  were  not  accidentally  disturbed,  by  what  is  not  of  the 
constitution  of  this  kingdom,  it  would  certainly  run  the 
same  way.  It  is  one  thing  to  say  what  is  the  constitution 
of  the  persons ;  and  another,  what  is  the  constitution  of 
them  as  members  of  this  kingdom  and  born  into  it.  The 
corruption  of  their  own  hearts,  is  extrinsical  to  the  con- 
stitution of  this  kingdom ;  for 'tis  only  so  Jar  as  they  are 
new  born  that  they  are  members  of  this  kingdom.  The 
sphere  and  verge  of  this  kingdom  doth  properly  and  di- 
rectly take  in  only  the  spiritual  part.  It  is  a  sphere  of 
spirituality  ;  and  what  there  is  in  it  opposite  thereunto,  is 
alien  to  the  constitution  of  it,  and  doth  not  belong  to  it.  It 
is  a  great  thing  to  be  well  possessed  with  this  apprehension, 
that  the  great  enemy  of  this  kingdom  does  certainly  fo- 
ment whatever  there  is  of  disagreement  among  them  who 
are  born  the  vital  members  of  it ;  and  it  must  be  under- 
stood to  proceed  from  an  ill  design.     And, 

2.  It  must  argue  an  evil  state,  and  the  prevalency  of  a 
contrary  principle.  If  there  be  divisions  among  you,  are 
you  not  carnaH  1  Cor.  iii.3.  They  who  are  of  this  king- 
dom are  spiritual ;  they  are  born  into  it  spirit  of  spirit ;  so 
they  come  into  it.  Therefore  so  far  as  there  is  a  prevail- 
ing disagreement  and  dividedness  in  the  state  of  things  in 
the  church  of  Christ;  so  far  the  persons  who  are  of  that 
state  are  in  a  decay,  and  lapsed  into  carnality',  and  things 
grow  worse  and  worse,  as  the  church  grows  more  divided. 
That  spiritual  principle  which  agrees  to  every  member  of 
this  kingdom,  as  he  is  born  into  it,  drives  all  to  oneness.  It 
proceeds  from  God,  and  tends  to  him ;  all  are  children  of 
the  same  Father,  and  they  are  all  begotten  to  one  and  the 
same  great  and  lively  hope  of  an  eternal  and  undefiled  in- 
heritance. The  primordia  of  the  new  creature  necessarily 
leads  to  unity,  among  all  who  are  of  this  kingdom. 

3.  Where  there  is  any  departure  from  this  said  oneness, 
there  is  so  much  of  the  decay  of  the  spiritual  nature,  by 
the  communication  whereof  men  are  said  to  be  born  into 
this  kingdom.  So  much  disunion  as  there  is,  so  much 
carnality  ;  and  the  church  is  then  in  a  languishing  state 
spiritually,  when  it  is  in  a  divided  state.  The  not  con- 
sidering this  is  attended  with  a  double  mischief  very  ob- 
vious; that  is,  that  in  different  respects,  thedifierences  and 
disagreements  among  Christians,  are  thought  greater  and 
less  than  indeed  they  are.  They  are  thought  greater  than 
they  are,  because  it  is  not  considered  how  the  nature  wiiich 
is  every  where  communicated  among  the  true  members  of 
this  kingdom,  doth  make  them  substantially  one,  in  the 
great  and  main  and  more  principal  things.  There  is  a 
greater  stress  put  upon  the  differences  of  those  who  are 
Christians  indeed,  than  there  ought,  or  can  be,  in  com- 
parison of  the  small  things  wherein  they  differ.  And  thev 
very  much  mistake  who  think  them  to  be  great ;  for  they 
necessarily  agree  in  one  common,  new,  spiritual,  divine 
nature  and  principle  of  life:  and  it  is  impossible  they 
should  disagree  in  any  one  thing,  comparatively  to  so  great 
a  thing  as  this.  Whatsoever  other  differences  there  are, 
they  are  comparatively  little,  in  respect  of  their  agreement 
in  this.  They  cannot  differ  so  but  they  are  all  one  in  Christ 
Jesus ;  whoever  is  in  Christ  is  a  new  creature,  they  all 
come  in  him  under  one  mould  and  stamp  by  their  new 
creation. 

But  then,  in  another  respect,  the  difference  is  thought  a 
great  deal  less  than  indeed  it  is  among  Christians.  Con- 
sider Christians  who  are  truly  and  sincerely  such,  and  so 


the  dillercnce  can't  be  so  great  as  many  times  it  is  thought; 
but  then  consider  the  ditierence  between  those  who  are 
Christians  in  truth,  and  those  who  are  only  so  by  profes- 
sion; and  there  the  dili'erence,  for  the  same  reason,  must 
be  greater  than  it  is  commonly  thought  to  be ;  for  there 
the  difference  is  between  a  living  thing  and  a  dead ;  as 
much  as  between  a  piece  of  nature  and  art,  a  man  and  a 
statue.  So  that  it  is  a  very  vain.kind  of  confidence  which 
such  pretend  to,  who  because  they  have  made  a  shift  to 
imitate  and  resemble  a  Christian,  they  think  the  case  is 
well  with  them,  when  as  yet  they  may  as  much  differ  from 
them  whose  case  is  truly  good,  as  a  living  man  doth  from 
a  dead  carcass. 

8.  Inference. — That  love  to  God  cannot  but  be  charac- 
teristical  to  every  regenerate  person — For  every  such  a  one 
is  a  child  of  God,  and  born  of  him  ;  and  certainly  it  ought 
to  be  looked  upon,  as  the  property  of  a  child,  to  love  the 
Father.  If  you  love  him  who  begat;  that  is  supposed  and 
taken  for  granted,  as  a  thing  not  to  be  doubted,  1  John  v.  1. 
And  therefore  to  have  a  heart  destitute  of  the  love  of  God, 
and  having  no  love  to  him,  is  a  most  unreasonable  and 
unnatural  thing;  and  a  certain  argument,  that  one  is  not 
his  child,  and  hath  not  been  born  spirit  of  spirit.  'Tisvery 
true  there  may  be  so  great  a  degeneration  in  the  old  de- 
cayed nature  of  man  ;  but  in  the  new  nature,  there  can  ne- 
ver be  such  a  degeneration,  as  that  a  person  born  of  God 
should  not  love  him.  It  would  be  the  greatest  inconsistency 
imaginable;  and  therefore  a  certain  argument,  that  such 
were  none  of  God's  children.  For  though  it  is  verj'  true 
indeed,  as  it  is  commonly  observed,  that  love  doth  descend, 
more  than  ascend  ;  from  him  who  begets,  to  them  who  are 
begotten  ;  so  love  in  this  case  more  especially  doth  a  great 
deal  more  descend  from  God  to  them  who  are  bom  of  him, 
than  ascend  from  them  to  him.  But  though  it  descends  a 
great  deal  more,  yet  it  doth  really  and  truly  ascend  to  him, 
though  not  indeed  so  much.  There  is  nothing  more  con- 
natural to  the  new  creature  than  the  love  of  God.  The 
very  heart  and  soul  of  the  new  creature  is  love  to  him  pri- 
marily, and  therein  lies  the  end  of  the  new  creation,  to 
form  a  person  to  God.  "  God  is  love,"  and  every  soul  who 
is  begotten  anew  by  him,  is  turned  into  a  like  nature,  and 
becomes  love,  as  God  is  love.  "  He  who  dwells  in  love, 
dwells  in  God ;  for  God  is  love."  There  can't  but  be  a 
love-commerce,  more  or  less,  between  God  and  every  new- 
born soul.  As  the  true  mother,  in  that  great  proof  of 
Solomon's  wisdom,  was  distinguished  by  her  love  to  her 
child  ;  so  we  may  proporiionably  saj',  that  a  child  of  God 
is  distinguished  by  that  love  which  works  towards  God. 
We  find  some  whom  it  never  toucheth  to  have  God  dis- 
honoured and  disgraced;  but  it  goes  to  the  heart  of  a  true 
child  of  God,  when  his  Father  is  struck  at,  his  name  re- 
proached and  torn,  or  any  thing  done  against  his  interest. 

9.  Inference. — How  great  is  the  obligation  upon  all  the 
regenerate  to  the  love  of  one  another.  If  you  love  God, 
how  can  it  be  but  you  must  have  a  love  for  them  who  love 
God  ;  who  have  all  one  parent,  all  partake  of  one  and  the 
same  nature,  all  expecting  the  same  inheritance;  who 
have  one  and  the  same  spirit,  the  same  hope  and  calling? 
Upon  the  consideration  of  their  being  new  born,  'tis  e^^- 
dent  they  must  have  the  same  Father  and  inheritance  :  If 
children,  then  heirs  ;  and  joint-heirs  with  one  another,  as 
well  as  with  Christ,  Rom.  viii.  17.  And  every  one  who 
loveth  him  who  begat,  loveth  him  also  M-ho  is  begotten  of 
him.  By  this  we  know  that  we  love  the  children  of  God, 
&c. 

10.  Inference. — We  further  infer,  that  the  reason  is  evi- 
dent, why  the  proper  means  of  their  regeneration,  or  spirit- 
ual birth,  are  very  dear  to  renewed  souls.  There  is  a 
spiritually-natural  reason  for  it.  There  are  those  in  the 
world,  who  cannot  believe  otherwise,  but  it  must  he  folly 
and  fanaticism,  or  a  mere  humour  and  affectation,  that 
any  should  discover  that  love  to  the  word  of  the  Gospel, 
or  the  ministry  of  the  Gospel,  which  they  do.  But  if  men 
would  consider  this,  it  would  give  them  a  natural  account 
of  this  love.  For  is  it  not  natural  to  love  the  means  by 
which  even  my  very  nature  itself  hath  been  comniunicared 
to  me,  and  by  which  I  am  what  I  am  1  The  apostle  gives 
us  the  reason  why  we  should  love  the  word  ;  As  new-born 
babes  desire  the  sincere  milk  of  the  word,  that  ye  may 
grow  thereby,  (1  Pet.   ii.  2.)  r.  e.  as  those  who  by  it  are 


528 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT 


Serm.  TX. 


new-born.  It  is  a  violence  to  the  new  nature  of  the  child- 
ren of  God,  to  withhold  from  them  the  word  of  the  Gos- 
pel, and  the  ministry  of  it,  which  hath  been  instrumental 
to  their  new  birth  ;  and  can't  but  infer  pain  and  anguish, 
to  be  abridged  and  deprived  of  what  was  so  conducive  to 
their  spiritual  beings. 

Last  inference,  we  collect, — That  this  same  kmsdom 
and  church  of  God,  which  is  truly  and  really  so,  must 
needs  be  a  growing  thing.  All  who  are  of  it  are  born  into 
it,  and  so  become  as  it  were  naturally  subjects;  there  is  a 
new  nature  communicated  to  all  who  are  in  it;  and  there- 
fore, it  being  made  up  of  the  spiritual  nature  and  life,  will 
grow,  till  it  comes  to  its  maturity.  Never  tear  but  it  will", 
grow,  behold  it  never  so  languishing,  never  so  assaultec^ 
struck  at,  and  contested  against.  For  nil  who  qre  ivir.n 
into  it  consist  of  spirit  and  life;  and  therefore  it  is  impos- 
sible, but  it  must  become  a  mature  thing,  worthy  both  of 
the  great  Author  and  Founder  of  it.  and  nf  thf  orest  de- 
sign for  which  he  formed  it ;  namely,  that  he  misht  have 
a  people  to  be  eternally  governed  by  a  placid,  eent'e  em- 
pire, and  a  delightful,  easy  sway;  who  should  be  ruled  by 
a  beck  and  a  nod;  and  to  whom  every  intimation  o*'  his 
will  should  have  the  force  of  a  perfect  command,  without 
any  the  least  regret ;  and  that  all  the  subjects  of  this  king- 
dom should  partake  in  the  glory  of  it.  And  so  it  w-.'!  be 
a  living  kingdom,  and  will  be  a  growing  thing,  till  it  come 
to  that  glorious  maturity,  which  will  answer  both  the 
greatness  of  the  Undertaker,  and  the  excelleucy  of  the 
design,  for  which  this  new  nature  and  life  was  sivec  to  it 


SERMON  IX.* 

Gal.  v.  25. 

If  we  live  in  the  Spirit,  let  us  also  loalk  in  the  Syi-'it. 

In  asserting  the  office  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  or  that  Avork 
which  it  hath  undertaken  in  reference  to  the  spirits  of 
men,  we  have  already  spoken  of  one  great  act  of  that 
office  ;  i.  e.  the  regenerating  and  begetting  anew  of  souls 
into  God's  kingdom,  spirit  of  spirit.  We  have  now  two 
other  acts  before  us  in  these  words;  i.  e.  its  maintaining 
the  life,  and  causing  all  the  right  motion,  of  regenerate 
souls.  The  former  of  these  are  contained  in  the  supposi- 
tion; "  If  we  live  in  the  Spirit:"  the  latter  is  intimated 
in  the  inferred  precept ;  "  Let  us  walk  in  the  Spirit."  Both 
are  alike  imputed  to  the  Spirit  of  God  here,  and  it  is  re- 
presented as  the  very  element  of  life,  and  the  spring  of  all 
holy  motion  to  renewed  souls ;  which  fills  the  whole  region, 
as  it  were,  with  vitality,  in  which  they  converse,  and  draw 
their  continual  breath.  The  case  is,  in  this  respect,  much 
-ike  in  the  new  creation  as  in  the  old,  and  in  the  sphere 
of  grace  as  in  that  of  nature.  It  is  said  concerning  the 
na.tural  world,  that  it  doth,  as  it  were,  subsist  in  God  ;  and 
it  is  spoken  of  the  new  creation  here ;  and  both  in  one 
form  of  expression :  In  him  we  live,  and  move,  and  have 
our  being,  Acts  xvii.  28.  And  here  we  read  of  living  in 
the  Spirit ;  and  walking  or  moving  in  the  spirit.  There 
is  only  this  difference  in  the  form  of  expression  :  that 
whereas  we  have  three  distinct  phrases  used  to  set  forth 
the  dependence  of  the  natural  creation  upon  God  ; — living, 
and  moving,  and  having  being  in  him; — there  are  only  the 
two  former  used  here  in  reference  to  the  new  creation, 
living  and  moving ;  living  in  the  Spirit  and  walking  in 
the  Spirit.  The  reason  of  the  difference  is  obvious,  that 
we  have  in  reference  to  the  former,  that  superadded  ex- 
pression, "  and  have  our  being ;"  because  in  this  natural, 
material,  sensible  world,  there  are  many  things  which  are, 
that  do  not  live :  but  with  the  new  creation  it  is  not  so; 
here,  to  lu-e  and  to  be,  are  one  and  the  same  thing;  and 
'tis  entirely  and  wholly  a  being  of  life.  A  collection  of  all 
vital  principles  compose  and  make  it  up  what  it  is;  and 
there  is  nothing  in  the  new  creation  concerning  which  it 
can  be  said,  it  is,  but  lives  not;  for  it  is  all  life  through- 
out. And  as  philosophy  has  been  wont  to  teach,  even 
*  Preached  February  ISlh,  1677,  at  Cordwaiiier'sHall. 


I  modern  philosophy  itself,  that  creation  and  conservation 
I  are  not  diverse  acts,  but  the  latter  only  the  former  con- 
I  tinned  ;  and  that  God  doth  by  the  continual  comrnunica- 
j  tion  of  the  same  influence,  by  v  hich  he  created  and  made 
this  world,  keep  it  in  the  state  wherein  it  is,  that  it  doth 
not  relapse  back  into  its  old  nothing;  that  there  would  not 
I  need  a  positive  act  of  God  to  destroy  the  world,  if  he  would 
I  turn  all  things  to  nothing  again,  but  only  to  suspend  and 
I  withnold  the  influence  by  which  every  thing  comes  to  be 
wtiat  it  is  :  so  it  is  in  the  new  creation,  or  in  the  new  crea- 
I  tur<^,  too.     The  very  suspension  of  that  influence  by  which 
I  >t  bes^an  to  be,  or  to  live,  (which  is  all  one,)  must  certainly 
I  infer  the  failure  and  extinction  of  the  whole. 
I      Think  therefore  what  it  would  be  if  all  vital  influence 
I  were  suspended  and  withheld  on  a  sudden  from  thismate- 
I  rial  and  sensible  world  in  which  we  converse.     You  might 
I  hereupon  frame  the  apprehension  within  yourselves,  of  the 
face  of  the  earth  all  on  a  sudden  bestrewed  with  the  dead 
carc?.sses  of  men  and  beasts,  the  beauty  and  pleasant  ver- 
dure of  it  all  Vanished  and  gone,  and  nothing  left  in  time 
but  a  great  clod  of  dirt !    This  great  temple  of  the  Deity, 
which  he  inhabits  by  a  vital  presence,  that  diffuses  life  up 
and  down  every  where,  all  turned  into  a  ruinous  heap.  If, 
I  say,  there  were  a  suspension  of  vital  influence,  supposing 
an  influence  continued  by  which  this  material  world  should 
still  be.     Why,  so  it  must  be,  proportionably,  in  reference 
unto  the  new  creature  too.     There  is  the  substrattini  to  be 
considered,  which  is  a  part  of  the  natural  creation,  the 
soul  or  the  man  himself;  but,  that  vital  influence  being 
suspended  by  which  the  new   creature  was  made  to  be 
what  it  was,  there  is  nothing  left  but  a  dead  man,  a  dead 
soul  !     The  temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost  (as  we  must  sup- 
pose it  to  have  been,  beautified  and  adorned  with  the  Di- 
vine image  on  every  side,  in  every  part)  laid  waste  and 
desolate  !     Nothing  now  but  darkness  and  confusion,  and 
misery  and  death,  there  where  God  dwelt!     So  the  case 
would  be,  if  we  could  suppose  such  a  thing  as  the  suspen- 
sion of  that  influence,  by  which  the  life  of  the  new  creature 
first  began  to  spring  up. 

And  there  is  not  only  a  parity  in  the  cases,  but  in  soiKe 
respects  a  sameness.  For  we  must  know  that  all  Divine 
influence  is  in  one  respect,  that  is,  ex  parte  principii,  one 
and  the  same,  and  only  differs,  or  is  diversified,  ex  parte 
termini,  according  as  it  doth  terminate.  We  can't  con- 
ceive the  Divine  influences  to  be  distinguished  in  their 
Fountain,  that  is,  in  the  Divine  Being  itself,  the  Almighty 
Spirit,  whence  all  proceeds  and  flows  out.  That  Almighty 
Spirit,  if  you  consider  the  operations  of  it,  produces  di- 
vers, but  by  an  influence  that  is  radically  and  in  the  Foun- 
tain one  and  the  same.  As  in  reference  to  those  diversi- 
ties of  its  operations  that  were  performed  to  the  church,  as 
divers  as  the}'  were,  they  weie  all  wrought  by  one  and  the 
same  spirit.  The  spirit  of  prophecy  was  not  one  spirit, 
and  of  healing  another,  and  of  tongues  another;  but  one 
and  the  same  Spirit  did  thus  diversify  its  operations,  ac- 
cordingas  the  products  were  divers  which  were  caused  by 
it,  and  which  it  was  afterwards  to  continue  in  that  being 
which  it  gave.  To  suppose  a  difference  or  diversity  of  in- 
fluence in  the  Fountain  itself,  the  Divine  Being,  were  to 
suppose  God  to  differ  from  himself,  and  to  put  somewhat 
in  God  that  were  not  God  ;  a  thing  most  repugnant  to  the 
simplicity  of  the  Divine  Being.  But  the  Divine  influences 
may  be  diversified  terminatively,  according  to  the  sub- 
jects in  which  it  is  received.  Nature  is  various  in  this, 
and  that,  and  the  other  creature  ;  (speaking  of  the  natura 
nn,turata,z.%,  for  distinction's  sake,  it  is  wont  to  be  called  ;) 
and  the  influences  are  diversified  according  to  those  divers 
natures  in  which  they  terminate,  and  according  to  the 
different  purposes  which  the  exigency  of  those  natures  doth 
require  should  be  served  and  complied  with.  And  so  that 
influence,  which  originally  and  in  the  Fountain  is  one  and 
the  same,  according  as  it  goes  forth  to  beget  and  continue 
a  variety  of  productions  of  this,  or  that,  or  another  kind, 
is  an  influence  that  gives  and  that  preserves  being  to 
things  concerning  which  it  can  only  be  said,  they  are  :  it 
is  a  vital  influence  to  things  that  live ;  it  is  a  motive  in- 
fluence to  things  that  move ;  it  is  an  intellectual  influence 
to  things  that  are  capable  of  understandijig  ;  it  is  a  holy 
influence  unto  what  is  holy,  to  what  it  hath  made  holy, 


S£RM.  IX. 


IN  REFERENCE  TO  PARTICULAR  PERSONS. 


529 


and  is  to  continue  and  keep  so ;  it  is  light,  as  it  terminates 
in  light ;  and  love,  as  it  terminates  in  love  ;  and  power,  a.s 
it  terminates  in  power ;  and  holy  gracious  action,  as  it 
doth  terminate  in  such  actions. 

Rut  it  is  the  principle  of  such  actions,  the  subordinate 
principle,  here  signified  by  the  name  of  life,  or  included 
in  living,  that  we  are  now  to  speak  of:  and  we  shall 
speak  of  the  action  which  proceeds  from  that  life,  and 
show  how  that  hath  rise  also  from  the  Spirit,  when  we 
come  to  the  latter  part  of  the  text.  From  the  former  part 
the  truth  that  we  have  to  observe  you  may  take  thus — The 
blessed  Spirit  of  God  doth  continue  and  maintain  that 
life,  whereof  it  hath  been  the  Author,  in  every  renewed 
soul. — We  shall,  in  speaking  to  this, — 1.  Very  briefly  open 
the  words  to  yuu,  that  we  may  clear  the  ground  which  the 
truth  recommended  to  you  hath  in  the  text,  and — Shall 
next  give  you  some  account  of  the  thing  which  is  asserted 
therein. 

I.  As  to  the  former,  you  must  take  notice, 

1.  That  the  if  in  the  beginning  of  the  text  is  not  an  if 
of  dubiiation,  but  of  argumentation — "  If  ye  live  in  the 
Spirit." — The  aposile  does  not  say  so  as  doulDting,  nor  was 
his  design  to  signify  thai  he  had  a  doubt,  whether  they  did 
so,  yea  or  no  ;  but  supposing  or  taking  that  for  granted,  it 
is  only  a  form  used  by  him  (as  it  is  common  in  arguing 
hypothetically)  thereupon  to  reason  with  them  from  such 
a  supposed  principle.  The  //therefore  signifies  as  much 
as  whereas,  or  since;  since  or  inasmuch  as  ye  live  in  the 
Spirit,  therefore  walk  in  the  Spirit.  As  in  Col.  iii.  1.  If 
ye  then  be  risen  with  Christ,  seek  those  things  which  are 
above:  If  ye  be,  that  is,  "  Since  ye  are;  it  is  the  appear- 
ance which  as  professing  Christians  ye  make,  the  aspect 
which  ye  visibly  hold  forth  to  men,  viz.  that  of  persons 
united  with  Christ,  and  made  alive  by  him  ;  since  ye  are 
risen  with  Christ,  therefore  set  your  atfections  on  things 
above;  act  and  do  accordingly."  So  we  are  to  take  it  here, 
and  it  aflbrds  ns  a  clear  ground  for  a  positive  assertion, 
those  who  are  Christians  indeed  do  live  in  the  Spirit. 

2.  We  must  note,  that  to  live  cannot  reasonably  be  un- 
derstood as  intending  the  first  reception  of  the  principle  of 
life,  but  the  continuation  of  that  principle.  This  form  of 
expression,  viz.  by  the  present  tense,  is  commonly  used  to 
hold  forih  to  us  the  continuedness  of  any  thing  ;  when  we 
don't  say  such  a  thing  was,  or  such  a  thing  will  be,  but 
such  a  thing  is,  it  notes,  I  saj",  the  continuedness  of  the 
thing  spoken  of;  inasmuch  as  the  present  time  is  that 
which  doth  connect  and  continue  the  two  parts  of  time, 
viz.  the  past  and  the  future.  And  the  continued  state  of 
this  life  is  after  the  same  manner  expi'essed  by  the  apostle 
m  the  2nd  chapter  of  this  epistle  to  the  Galatians,  verse  20. 
The  life  which  I  live  in  the  flesh  is  by  the  faith  of  the  Son 
of  God.  He  means  not,  that  he  only  first  began  to  live  that 
life  by  an  influence  received  from  the  Son  of  God,  but  that 
he  lived  from  day  to  day  that  life  which  he  did  live,  that 
spiritual,  divine  life,  by  faith  in  the  Son  of  God,  who  had 
loved  him  and  given  himself  for  him. 

Nor  again  must  we  understand  this  living  to  signify  the 
series  of  actions  only  proper  to  that  life ;  for  they  are 
afterwards  signified  by  the  name  of  walking  in  the  other 
part  of  the  text.  It  is  true  indeed,  that  living,  in  a  very 
common  notion  of  it,  does  denote  the  continued  series  of 
the  actions  of  one's  life,  whether  good  or  bad,  both  in 
Scripture  and  in  ordinary  language :  If  ye  live  after  the 
flesh,  ye  shall  die,  (Rom.  viii.  13.)  that  is,  if  ye  continue 
to  act,  or  walk,  or  converse  after  the  flesh,  according  as 
that  corrupt  principle  doth  incline  and  dictate,  ye  shall  die. 
The  grace  of  God  that  bringeth  salvation  haih  appeared 
to  all  men,  teaching  us  that — we  should  live  soberl}',  righte- 
ously, and  godly  in  this  present  world;  that  is,  act,  and 
walk,  and  converse  so,  Titus  ii.  11,  12.  And  in  common 
speech  we  use  to  say  such  a  man  lives  a  good  or  a  bad 
life,  intending  by  living,  the  course  of  his  actions  whether 
good  or  bad.  But  this  cannot  be  the  meaning  of  living 
here,  for  the  reason  before  mentioned;  and  should  we  so 
understand  it,  there  would  neitherbe  argument,  nor  indeed 
congruity,  in  the  apostle's  way  of  expressing  himself;  for 
it  would  amount  to  no  more  than  this ;  If  ye  continue  to 
live  in  the  Spirit,  continue  to  live  in  the  Spirit;  or  if  ye 
continue  to  walk  in  the  Spirit,  continue  to  walk  in  the 
Spirit.    Wherefore  it  is  necessary  that  we  conceive  a  mid- 


dle sense  between  these  two,  viz.  the  first  reception  of  the 
principle  of  life,  and  the  continued  series  of  the  actions  of 
that  life  ;  and  that  middle  sense  is,  (as  hath  been  already 
intimated,)  the  continuation  of  the  vital  principle  itself  If 
ye  live,  that  is,  if  ye  have  the  principle  of  a  new  and  divine 
life  continued  and  maintained  in  you,  walk  in  the  Spirit, 
as  those  principles  would  direct  and  guide  you  to  do.  Again, 
3.  We  must  note  that  by  Spirit,  or  the  Spirit,  is  mani- 
festly meant  the  blessed  eternal  Spirit  of  God,  the  Holy 
Gho.st.  It  can't  be  meant  of  our  natural  spirit,  as  is  most 
evident ;  nor  can  it  be  meant  of  the  new  creature  itself, 
which  is  in  the  Scripture  called  spirit ;  (as  we  have  had 
occasion  lately  to  take  notice  again  and  again;)  for  of  the 
same  Sjjirit  which  is  here  spoken  of  you  have  an  enume- 
ration of  the  fruits  in  the  verses  immediately  foregoing; 
The  fruit  of  the  Spirit  is  love,  joy,  meekness,  temperance. 
&c.  These,  we  are  sure,  are  not  the  fruits  of  our  own 
natural  spirit ;  neither  can  they  be  said  to  be  the  fruits  of 
the  new  creature,  for  they  are  the  new  creature  itself,  those 
very  principles  whereof  the  new  creature  is  composed  and 
doth  consist.  It  is  therefore  manifest  that  by  the  Spirit  we 
must  understand  the  divine  eternal  Spirit,  the  blessed  Spirit 
of  God  Itself. 

And  for  that  form  of  expression,  "  in  the  Spirit,"  that 
particle  commonly  denotes  a  causative  influence,  and  sig- 
nifies as  much  as  by ;  q.  d.  If  ye  live  by  the  Spirit.  Many 
instances  might  be  given,  and  have  u()on  some  other  occa- 
sion been  given,  to  show  that  the  particle  in  doth  some- 
times signify  by,  and  denotes  the  influence  of  an  efficient 
cause.  But  then  it  must  be  noted  loo,  that  it  denotes  the 
part  of  an  etficient  cause,  or  a  casual  influence,  with  a  great 
deal  more  emphasis  than  if  another  form  of  expression  had 
been  used.  "  [f  ye  live  in  the  Spirit."  Why  it  imports 
the  continual,  vital,  immediate  presence  of  the  Spirit  for 
this  purpose,  to  maintain  this  life.  "  If  ye  live  in  the 
Spirit;"  as  if  the  soul  had  its  very  situs,  its  situation,  in  a 
region  of  life  which  the  Spirit  did  creaie  and  make  unto 
it.  As  sometimes  the  continual  present  power,  and  do- 
minion, and  influence  of  wickedness,  or  some  wicked  prin- 
ciple, is  expressed  the  same  way,  by  being  in  the  flesh. 
When  we  were  in  the  flesh,  under  the  power  and  regnancy 
of  any  corrupt,  fleshly  principle,  the  motions  of  sin  which 
were  by  the  law,  did  work  in  our  members,  to  bring  forth 
fruit  unto  death,  Rom.  vii.  5.  And,  Thou  art  in  the  gall 
of  bitterness,  and  in  the  bond  of  iniquity,  as  it  is  said  to 
Simon  Magus,  Acts  viii.  23.  And,  The  world  lies  in 
wickedness;  so  as  to  be  continually  receiving  in  and  im- 
bibing wickedness,  as  it  were  on  every  hand,  1  John  v.  19. 
In  like  manner  the  soul  is  represented  as  imbibing  life 
and  vital  influence  on  every  part ;  agreeably  unto  which 
notion,  some  (and  those  I  may  reckon  the  best  of)  philoso- 
phers have  been  wont  to  say,  that  it  is  a  great  deal  more 
proper  to  speak  of  the  body  of  a  man  as  being  in  his  soul, 
than  of  the  soul  as  in  the  body  ;  that  the  body  is  in  the  soul, 
as  being  continually  cloihed  with  vital  influence  on  every 
part,  and  which  it  diffuses  throughout ;  tlie  soul  being  as  an 
element  of  life  unto  the  body  all  the  while  they  do  converse, 
life  extending  even  unto  ail  the  extremities,  unto  the  most 
extreme  part  of  the  body  that  you  can  suppose.  So  is  the 
soul  spoken  of  here  in  reference  to  the  Spirit  of  God  ; 
though  that  very  intimate  union  is  frequently  held  forth  to 
us  in  Scripture  by  a  kind  of  reciprocal  and  mutual  in-being 
of  one  in  the  other,  and  the  other  in  that.  "  He  that  dwells 
in  love,  dwells  in  God,  and  God  in  him ;"  they  do,  as  it 
were,  inhabit  one  another.  So  it  is  with  the  Spirit  of  God, 
and  the  soul  that  spiritually  lives  by  it :  it  is  in  the  Spirit, 
and  the  Spirit  i.>  in  it.  It  is  not  so  in  the  Spirit,  as  it 
there  were  any  thing  of  itself  more  intimate  to  it  than  the 
Spirit  is;  but  the  Spirit  doth  as  it  were  clothe  it  with  life, 
fill  it  with  life,  and  is  all  in  all  of  life  to  it. 

So  much  therefore  is  now  clear  to  you,  that  the  truth 
which  we  have  observed  haih  a  very  adequate  ground 
in  the  text.  "  If  ye  live  in  the  Spirit,"  since  ye  do  so. 
It  is  a  thing  to  be  concluded,  that  the  life  of  those  who 
are  Christians  indeed,  who  have  ever  come  to  be  spiritually 
alive,  is  to  be  maintained  and  continued  b)'  a  constant 
influence  of  the  blessed  Spirit. 

II.  Now  that  we  may  open  the  truth  of  the  thing  that  is 
a-^sertcd  and  contained  in  these  words,  it  will  be  requisite 
to  speak  distinctly, — 1.  Concerning  the  life  that  is  to  be 


530 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT 


Serm.  IX. 


maintained, — 2.  Concerning  the  influence  that  maintains 
it. 

1.  Concerning  the  life  to  be  maintained.  Of  that  I  have 
need  to  say  the  less  because  we  have  had  occasion  to  speak 
largely  of  it  heretofore.  What  it  will  be  needful  to  say, 
you  may  take  in  these  few  propositions. 

1.  We  are  not  to  understand  it  of  natural  life,  no,  not 
even  of  the  soul  itself;  but  we  are  to  understand  it  of  life 
in  a  moral  sense,  or  if  you  will,  in  a  .spiritual  and  divine ; 
I  intend  one  thing  by  the  expressions.  It  is  called  indeed 
the  Divine  life,  or  the  life  of  God  in  plain  terms,  Eph.  iv. 
18.  Being  alienated  from  the  life  of  God,  having  no  share, 
no  participation  in  the  Divine  life,  in  God's  life. 

2.  As  life  in  the  natural  sense  is  a  principle  of  action  ; 
so  life  in  the  moral  sense  is  a  principle  of  righi  action,  or 
by  which  one  is  enabled  to  act  aright.  The  soul  of  a  man 
is  naturally  a  living,  vital,  active  being ;  it  is  naturally  so, 
i.  e.  it  belongs  to  its  very  essence  to  be  capable  of  acting. 
But  to  be  disposed  to  act  aright,  though  that  was  in  some 
respect  natural  to  it  too,  yet  it  was  not  inseparable,  as  sad 
experience  has  taught  us  all.  Though  the  spirit  of  a  man 
be  a  living,  and  consequently  an  active,  being,  made  such 
by  God  in  the  first  constitution  of  it,  it  is  not  to  be  supposed 
that  he  turned  such  a  being  as  this  loose  into  the  world 
when  he  made  it,  to  act  at  random,  and  according  as  any 
natural  inclination  might  carry  it,  or  external  objects  move 
it,  this  way  or  that ;  but  it  being  not  only  a  living,  an 
active  substance,  but  intellectual  also,  and  thereby  capable 
of  government  by  a  law,  i.  e.  of  understanding  its  Maker's 
will  and  pleasure,  and  directing  the  course  of  its  actions 
agreeably  thereto,  God  hath  thereupon  thought  fit  to  pre- 
scribe it  a  law,  or  set  it  rules  to  act  and  walk  by.  Now 
the  mere  power  to  act  is  life  natural,  but  the  disposition  or 
ability  to  act  aright  is  a  supervening  life,  by  which  the 
soul  is  a'J  it  were  contempered  and  framed  agreeably  to  the 
law  by  which  it  is  to  act,  or  the  Divine  government  under 
which  it  is  placed. 

3.  The  prime  and  fundamental  law  which  enters  the 
constitution  of  the  Divine  government  over  reasonable 
creatures  is,  that  they  love  the  Author  of  their  beings,  his 
own  blessed  self,  above  all  things ;  and  consequently  as 
that  love  doth  dictate  most  directly,  that  they  be  devoted 
and  subject  unto  him  as  the  supreme  authority,  and  that 
they  delight  and  take  complacency,  and  seek  rest  and 
plessedness,  in  him  as  the  supreme  good;  both  which  are 
included  in  that  one  root  or  principle  of  love.  I  am  to 
love  him,  and  love  him  above  all,  and  then  I  do  of  course 
willingly  and  with  cheerfulness  devote  myself  to  him, 
being  acted  by  the  power  of  that  love  so  to  do,  and  seek 
olessedness  in  him  as  the  most  suitable,  the  most  agreeable 
good  to  my  soul. 

This  is  but  the  very  sum  and  substance  of  the  first  com- 
mandment, which  we  are  to  look  upon  as  fundamental  to 
all  the  rest ;  for  it  were  a  vain  thing  to  prescribe  any  fur- 
ther laws  as  a  God  to  those  who  will  not  take  him  for  a 
God  to  them. 

This  was  therefore  the  natural  method,  to  begin  the  law, 
the  frame  of  laws  and  constitution  of  government,  over 
reasonable  creatures,  with  this  grand  precept,  "  Thou  shah 
have  no  other  God  but  me."  That  is,  "  I  will  be  to  thee 
the  prime  object  of  thy  love ;  which  love  shall  make  thee 
devote  thyself  to  me,  and  then  make  thee  delight  and  take 
complacency  in  me  as  the  supreme,  both  authority  and 
goodness."     Wherefore, 

4.  This  life  which  we  are  now  to  consider  as  to  be 
maintained,  must  principally  and  chiefly  consist  in  the 
love  of  God  ;  that  is,  a  propension  of  soul  towards  him 
above  and  beyond  all  things  else.  It  is  a  conformity  unto 
that  grand  precept,  "  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God 
with  all  thy  heart,  and  with  all  thy  soul,  and  with  all  thy 
mind,  and  with  all  thy  strength ;"  a  direction  or  bent  of 
spirit  towards  God.  So  long,  or  so  far,  a  person  is  said  to 
live  spiritually,  as  the  main  bent  and  inclination  of  his 
heart  is  toward  God.  If  he  fall  from  God,  or  in  what 
degree  soever  he  doth  so  fall,  so  far  he  dies;  there  is  a 
gradual  death  according  to  all  the  gradual  declensions  of 
the  heart  from  God.  God  is  the  great  term  of  this  life,  as 
we  have  had  occasion  to  inculcate  formerly.  When  it  is 
intended  to  be  spoken  of,  it  is  not  spoken  of  as  an  absolute 
thing,  but  is  distinctly  spoken  of  as  a  life  that  relates  and 


refers  to  God.  Alive  to  God,  (Rom.  iv.  11.)  ana  it  follows, 
ver.  13.  Yield  yourselves  unto  God  as  those  that  are  alive 
from  the  dead,  yield  yourselves  living  souls  unto  God. 
And  the  apostle  speaking  of  that  life,  which  he  says  he  did 
live  by  faith  in  the  Son  of  God,  (Gal.  ii.)  speaks  of  it  as 
a  life  terminating  upon  God :  "  1  through  the  law  am  dead 
unto  the  law,  that  I  might  live  unto  God,"  ver.  19.  in  the 
next  verse  to  which  you  read,  "  The  life  which  now  I 
live  in  the  flesh,  I  live  by  the  faith  of  the  Son  of  God," 
'tis  a  life  that  comes  to  me  from  and  through  Christ,  and 
points  my  soul  directly  upon  God,  so  as  that  I  live  to 
him. 

5.  This  life  doth  also  comprehend  all  other  gracious 
principles  beside  that  great  radical  one  of  love  to  God, 
which  suit  the  Spirit  of  a  man  to  all  the  other  parts  of  the 
Divine  law,  or  all  the  other  laws  besides.  Whatsoever 
gracious  habit  or  disposition  doth  attemper  and  reconcile 
my  spirit  to  this  or  that  part  of  the  Divine  will  revealed  in 
his  law,  that  I  must  undenstand  to  be  a  principle  included 
within  the  compass  of  this  life  to  be  maintained.  For  we 
find  the  expression  used  to  signify  the  impress  of  the 
whole  frame  of  holiness  upon  the  soul ;  it  is  but  a  diverse 
expression  of  the  work  of  the  new  creature,  which  we  find 
expressed  again  and  again  in  Scripture  by  putting  the  law 
in  men's  hearts.  To  put  the  law  into  the  heart,  why,  that 
is  to  form  the  new  creature  there,  and  so  continue  that 
impression  upon  the  heart  and  maintain  it  there,  or  to 
continue  the  life  of  the  new  creature  in  the  soul.  Whence 
therefore  that  law  so  impressed  and  made  habitual  in  the 
spirit  of  a  man,  is  called  the  law  of  the  spirit  of  life  in 
Christ  Jesus,  Rom.  viii.  2.  And  hence  also  those  fruits  ol 
the  Spirit  which  we  find  mentioned  in  this  chapter,  and 
immediately  before  the  text,  are  to  be  conceived  as  so 
many  vital  principles  all  belonging  to  the  constitution  of 
the  new  creature,  and  all  of  them  serving  to  conform  the 
spirit  of  a  man  unto  the  Divine  law.  After  the  mention 
of  all  those  several  principles  which  are  called  the  fruits  of 
the  Spirit,  it  is  said,  "If  we  live  in  the  Spirit,  let  us  also 
walk  in  the  Spirit ;"  i.  e.  if  we  have  all  these  fruits  which 
are  so  many  living  principles  put  by  the  Spirit  of  God 
into  us,  if  we  have  them,  and  they  are  continued  and  kepi 
alive  in  us;  then  let  us  walk  in  the  Spirit ;  act  and  do  ac- 
cording to  these  principles. 

6.  We  must  further  note,  that  not  only  the  continual 
being  of  all  those  vital  principles  which  are  called  the  fruits 
of  the  Spirit,  but  also  the  gradual  improvements  of  their 
life,  vigour,  liveliness,  do  all  belong  unto  this  life  consider- 
ed according  to  the  more  perfect  state  of  it.  For  there  is 
no  degree  of  this  or  that  thing,  but  hath  the  nature  of  the 
thing  in  it,  and  doth  belong  to  the  nature  of  the  thing. 
And  therefore  I  say,  that  by  life  here  we  must  understand 
not  barely  the  being  of  these  principles  continued  in  the 
soul,  but  supposing  that  the  soul  hath  been  improved  and 
grown  unto  some  strength  and  vigour,  whatsoever  main- 
tenance it  is  to  expect  of  that  good  state  unto  which  it  is 
arrived,  that  is  under  the  name  of  life  here  attributed  to 
the  Spirit,  as  it  is  its  proper  work  to  hold  the  soul  in  life; 
according  as  we  use  to  say,  speaking  concerning  the  natural 
life,  non  vivere,  sed  valerc,  vita  est,  merely  not  to  be  dead, 
is  hardly  worth  the  name  of  living;  but  to  be  in  health,  to 
be  strong,  and  lively,  and  vigorous.  We  must  conceive  it 
to  be  within  the  compass  of  the  Spirit's  work,  and  there- 
fore we  put  it  within  the  compass  of  the  object,  to  keep  up 
souls  in  a  lively  and  vigorous  state,  and  not  only  having 
put  vital  influences  into  them,  merely  to  preserve  them  from 
being  extinct.  When  we  find  that  severe  animadversion, 
Rev.iii.  1.  Thou  hast  a  name  that  thou  livest  and  art  dead, 
it  appears  by  what  follows  that  he  doth  not  mean  by  death 
there,  simple  death,  as  if  there  was  nothing  of  life  left,  but 
a  gradual  deadness,  a  very  languishing  state ;  for  it  follows, 
"  Strengthen  the  things  which  remain,  that  are  ready  to 
die,"  (ver.  2.)  implying  that  to  live  so  languid  a  life  was 
hardly  worth  the  name  of  living;  they  were  rather  to  be 
called  dead  than  living,  while  the  case  was  only  so  with 
them.  Therefore  though  it  be  true,  that  such  a  languish- 
ing is  that  which  doth  befall  many  a  Christian  who  hath 
the  root  of  life  in  him,  yet  if  it  be  better  with  any,  and  if 
they  be  continued  in  a  better  state,  it  is  to  be  attributed  to 
the  Spirit  of  God  ;  they  "  live  in  the  Spirit."  If  they  live 
more  prosperously,  if  their  souls  flourish,  and  are  in  a  good 


Serm.  X. 


IN  REFERENCE  TO  PARTICULAR  TERSONS, 


531 


condition,  and  are  kept  on  therein,  it  is  all  owing  to  this 
Spirit ;  but  it  is  owing  to  men's  ownselves  if  they  be  in 
languishings  and  decays,  that  they  conform  not  themselves 
to  the  rules  and  methods  of  the  Holy  Ghost  in  which  they 
are  to  expect,  and  according  to  which  they  may  look  for, 
its  supplies,  whereof  we  shall  have  occasion  hereafter  to 
speak. 

7.  This  life  must  be  understood  to  include  too,  not  only 
the  principles  of  grace,  and  the  vigour  and  liveliness  of 
those  principles  ;  but  also  the  consolations,  the  pleasures, 
the  grateful  relishes  of  divine  and  spiritual  things,  which 
are  pi-oper  to  the  new  creature  also.  For  it  is  usual  to 
distinguish  both  of  the  life  of  grace,  and  the  life  of  com- 
fort, as  comprehended  under  the  same  name  of  lile  in  the 
general.  We  many  times  find  the  expression  used  to  hold 
forth  to  us  any  consolation  that  a  good  soul  hath  given 
into  it  upon  whatsoever  spiritual  account.  We  live,  says 
the  apostle,  if  ye  stand  fast  in  the  Lord,  1  Thess.  iii.  8.  It 
is  as  a  new  life  to  ns,  a  revival  upon  a  distinct  and  super- 
added account,  unto  whatsoever  doth  more  naturally  and 
necessarily  concern  the  very  being  of  our  life.  And  there- 
fore according  to  what  measures  and  degrees  such  plea- 
sures, and  consolations,  and  joys  are  afforded  unto  good 
souls ;  we  must  understand  them  all  attributed  iinto  the 
Spirit  of  God,  under  the  expression  of  our  living  in  the 
Spirit,  or  living  by  it. 

8.  As  the  tendency  of  this  life  is  towards  God  as  the 
term  of  it,  so  the  root  of  it  is  from  God,  as  the  great  Au- 
thor and  Fountain  of  it.  It  must  be  miderstood  to  be  the 
life  of  God,  or  the  Divine  life,  upon  both  these  accounts, 
not  only  as  it  is  a  life  that  terminates  upon  him,  but  as  it 
is  a  life  that  rises  and  springs  from  him,  even  in  the  very 
first  rise  of  it :  for  none  can  tend  towards  God  but  by  him, 
by  a  power  and  inclination  that  is  received  from  him,  by 
Avhich  he  draws  and  acts  the  soul  towards  himself.  As 
was  noted  before,  that  very  life  by  which  the  apostle  says 
he  did  live  to  God,  he  says  he  received  it  by  faith  from 
the  Son  of  God,  who  had  loved  him,  and  given  himself 
for  him.     And  therefore, 

9.  This  life  doth  necessarily  suppose  union  with  God, 
with  Christ,  and  with  the  Spirit  of  God.  He  that  is  join- 
ed to  the  Lord  is  one  spirit,  I  Cor.  vi.  17.  Whosoever  it 
is  that  is  joined  to  the  Lord,  is  caught  into  a  union  of  spirit 
with  him,  and  that  Spirit  is  the  continual  source  of  life  to 
him.  It  is  not  only  vain  and  unintelligible,  but  most  mon- 
strously blasphemous,  to  imagine  such  a  thing  concerning 
this  union  an  if  it  were  an  essential  vmion  with  God,  or  a 
personal  union  with  any  of  the  persons  in  the  Godhead  : 
the  former  would  make  any  one  God  ;  the  latter  would 
make  us  more  one  with  that  person,  than  the  persons  are 
with  one  another  ;  for  we  can't  say  that  the  person  of  the 
Father  is  the  person  of  the  Son,  or  that  the  person  of  the 
Son  is  the  person  of  the  Holy  Ghost ;  the  union  is  in  es- 
sence, not  in  person.  And  therefore  to  talk  as  some  have 
done  of  being  personally  united  to  Christ,  or  with  the 
Spirit  of  Christ,  imports  as  if  they  were  more  one  with 
Christ,  than  Christ  is  one  with  the  Father,  or  than  the 
Father  is  one  with  the  Spirit ;  for  personal  union  is  that, 
the  result  whereof  is  one  person  ;  and  so  the  two  natures 
of  Christ  are  united.  But  a  real  union  there  is  of  those, 
who  live  this  divine  life,  with  him  who  is  the  great  origin 
and  principle  of  it ;  for  it  were  a  most  imreasonable  and 
unintelligible  thing,  that  a  man  should  live  by  a  principle 
of  life  that  is  disunited  from  him.  There  must  always  be 
a  union  between  the  thing  which  lives,  and  that  which  it 
lives  by.  I  can't  live  by  a  vital  principle  that  is  remote 
from  me,  or  wherewith  I  am  not,  in  one  sense  or  another, 
united.  And  it  were  very  absurd  to  think  that  such  words 
should  be  put  into  the  Bible  to  signify  nothing,  or  carry 
no  sense  with  them,  "  He  that  is  joined  to  the  Lord,  is  one 
Spirit."  Nor  can  that  union,  though  it  doth  not  signify  so 
much  as  an  essential,  or  a  personal  imion,  (both  which,  as 
I  have  said  to  you,  are  absurd  and  blasphemous.)  carry  so 
little  as  a  mere  presence  of  God,  for  he  is  equally  present 
to  all,  more  intimate  to  everj'  creature  than  it  is  to  itself; 
but  it  doth  over  and  beside  carry  this,  that  there  is  a  Di- 
vine presence  specified  by  such  ends,  for  which  it  is 
vouchsafed  upon  such  peculiar  terms,  upon  which  such  a 
presence  is  not  vouchsafed  to  others  ;  that  is,  he  is  present 

*  Preached  February  20tli,  1678,  at  Cordwainer'a  Ilall. 


to  them  with  whom  he  is  thus  united,  as  a  spring  and  prin- 
ciple of  life  to  them  ;  he  is  present  for  this  very  purpose, 
to  form  them  fur  himself,  to  incline,  and  to  continue  their 
souls  inclined  towards  himself,  and  so  more  and  more 
gradually ;  to  dispose  and  fit  them  to  glorify  him,  to  be  the 
in.struments  of  his  glory,  and  to  be  glorified  with  him,  or 
to  be  the  .subjects  of  his  glory.  This  is  the  special  end  for 
which  he  is  present,  and  which  doth  distingui.sh  his  pre- 
sence. For  we  can't  (a.s  was  said  before)  suppose  that  ex 
parte  Dei,  on  God's  part,  one  part  of  himself  can  be  more 
present  than  another,  for  that  were  to  make  God  to  differ 
from  him.self ;  but,  with  reference  to  the  effects  and  ends, 
which  such  an  influential  presence  doth  work,  there  is  a 
difference ;  he  is  present  so,  as  to  do  such  a  work  in  those, 
to  whom  he  is  thus  present,  as  he  will  not,  as  he  doth  not, 
do  in  others  ;  so  as  to  be  the  continual  spring  of  such  mo- 
tions, and  such  workings  and  tendencies,  as  others,  where 
he  will  not  so  exert  his  influence,  are  strangers  to.  And 
then  he  is  present  with  them  too  upon  terms  suitable  to 
those  ends  ;  that  is,  as  having  bound  himself  to  them  to  be 
their  God,  and  so  to  be  all  that  to  them  which  it  belongs  to 
him  to  be,  as  he  undertakes  to  be  the  God  of  any.  He  is 
their  God,  engaged  to  be  with  them  by  his  continual  vital 
presence  through  time,  and  in  all  eternity.  Such  a  union, 
that  is,  an  intimate  presence  for  such  pur])oses,  and  upon 
such  terms,  is  supposed  in  this  life,  and  therefore  must  be 
supposed  to  be  maintained  and  continued  all  the  while 
this  life  is  continued  ;  that  is,  the  soul  is  held  with  God 
and  kept  close  to  him  by  bonds  of  union,  kept  firm  and 
tight  between  him  and  them. 

Thus  you  have  .some  account  of  the  first  of  these  heads 
which  we  proposed  to  open  to  you,  viz.  the  life  to  be  main- 
tained. It  would  become  us  to  make  some  present  reflec- 
tion upon  what  hath  been  said  at  this  time  ;  and  that  is, 
since  we  have  heard  so  much  said  concerning  such  a  life 
as  this,  (and  more  heretofore,)  "  certainly  there  is  such  a 
life."  The  thought  offers  itself,  that  such  a  life  is  not 
merel}'  talked  on,  or  is  not  a  mere  empty  notion,  but  there 
must  certainly  be  such  a  real  thing.  This  distinct  sort  of 
life,  though  besides  what  other  kinds  of  life  are  more  ob- 
vious to  the  common  notice  of  the  world,  is  indeed  a  hid- 
den life,  a  secret  life  :  Your  life  is  hid  with  Christ  in  God, 
Col.  iii.  3.  But  the  hiddenness  of  the  thing  doth  suppose 
it  to  be,  for  that  which  is  not,  can't  he  hid:  so  far  is  it 
from  carrying  a  supposition  or  an  inference  that  it  is  not. 
We  ought  therefore  to  possess  our  souls  of  this  apprehen- 
sion, (think  men  of  this  matter  what  they  will,)  there  is 
really  a  certain  sort  of  life  which  doth  distinguish  a  holy 
man  from  a  mere  man,  as  truly,  as  there  is  a  natural  life 
which  doth  distinguish  a  mere  man  from  a  carcass,  from 
the  deserted  trunk  and  body  of  a  man.  And  when  we 
consider  so,  how  can  we  forbear  to  lay  our  hands  upon 
our  hearts,  and  ask  ourselves  the  question  ;  "  Do  I  live 
this  life,  yea  or  no  7  Do  I  feel  myself  to  live  1  Do  I  feel 
an  inclination  and  bent  of  heart  towards  God;  some  prin- 
ciples of  life,  springing  up  from  the  divine  root,  which 
carries  my  soul  towards  that  blessed  object :  that  I  am 
acted  from  God  to  God  in  my  ordinary  course  V  We 
can't  have  a  greater  question,  or  of  more  concernment  in 
all  this  world,  to  deal  with  our  souls  about,  and  therefore 
let  it  be  seriously  thought  of. 


SERMON  X.* 

We  are  upon  the  first  act  of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  refer- 
ence to  souls  born  of  it,  held  f  nnh  to  us  in  this  scripture, 
viz.  in  tiie  supposition,  from  whence  wc  have  observed — 
That  the  blessed  Spirit  of  God  doth  by  its  own  influence 
maintain  the  life,  whereof  it  hath  been  the  Author  unto 
regenerate  souls. 

And  here  we  propounded  to  speak, — 1,  Ofthe  life  to  be 
maintained,  and — '2.  Ofthe  influence  which  maintains  it. 
Of  the  former  we  have  spoken  already,  and  arc  now  to  go 
on  to  the  latter. 

Concerning  which  we  shall,—!.  Show  what  kind  of  in- 


532 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT 


Serm.  X 


fluence  it  is ; — 2.  How  is  it  ascertained  unto  regenerate 
souls.  Or,  give  you  some  account  of  the  nature  and  of 
the  certainty  of  it. 

Of  the  former  you  may  have  some  account  by  consider- 
ing such  properties  of  it  as  those  that  follow,  viz. 

1.  It  is  a  most  free  and  arbitrary  influence.  It  is  a  most 
gracious  influence  you  know,  in  the  very  notion  whereof 
the  purest  liberty  is  implied,  wherein  it  has  first  to  do  with 
souls,  as  is  subjoined  to  the  scripture  before  discoursed  of 
in  John  iii.  8.  It  is  represented  as  "  the  wind  that  blow- 
eth  where  it  listeth."  In  operations  of  this  kind  the  Spirit 
delights  to  discover  and  magnify  a  kind  of  sovereignty 
and  royalty.  It  is  a  very  awful  word  which  haih  refer- 
ence, as  we  find,  unto  that  consideration.  Work  out  your 
own  salvation  with  fear  and  trembling,  in  Phil.  ii.  12. 
The  consideration  is  immediately  added,  that  "  God  work- 
eth  in  us  to  will  and  to  do  of  his  own  good  pleasure." 
And  I  conceive  there  are  two  things  hinted  to  us  in  that 
expression,  viz.  that  whatsoever  he  doth  of  this  kind,  he 
doth  with  delight,  taking  a  complacency  in  it,  and  enjoy- 
ing, as  it  were,  his  own  act ;  "  he  exercises  loving-kind- 
ness in  the  earth,"  and  in  no  kind  or  manner  of  operation 
so  as  in  this,  because  herein  he  doth  delight.  And  it  also 
intimates,  that  what  he  doth  herein,  he  doth  upon  no  obli- 
gation ;  he  doth  at  the  rate  of  most  absolute  liberty,  so  as 
that  he  might  do,  or  might  not  do.  Libervm  est  quod  potuit 
non  fiiisse,  That  is  free  which  might  not  have  been.  "  He 
works  of  good  pleasure,"  having  no  other  tie  upon  him 
than  what  he  takes  on  and  lays  upon  himself;  and  there- 
fore "  work  out  your  salvation,"  saith  the  aposile,  "  with 
fear  and  trembling."  He  works  now ;  you  don't  know  whe- 
ther he  will  by  and  by,  if  you  neglect  him  now.  There- 
fore is  the  blessed  Spirit  mentioned  with  that  distinguish- 
ing title  of  the  free  Spirit :  Uphold  me  with  thy  free  Spirit, 
Psal.  li.  12.  It  is  not  only  efTicienlly  so,  as  the  great  Au- 
thor of  liberty  unto  those  souls  upon  whom  it  works  effect- 
uallv,  and  with  saving  operations,  as  is  the  sense  of  what 
we  find  said  in  2  Cor.  iii.  17.  Where  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord 
is,  there  is  liberty;  liberty  communicated  by  it  luito  those, 
who  by  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord,  as  it  after  follows,  behold- 
ing as  in  a  glass  his  glory,  are  changed  into  the  same  image 
from  glory  to  glory.  Whilst  it  refines  them,  it  enlarges 
them,  defecates  them,  makes  them  capable  of  ascending, 
and  renders  them  some  way  adequate  to  a  large,  universal, 
all-comprehensive  good  ;  it  is  not,  I  say,  only  so  a  free 
Spirit,  but  it  is  in  itself  free,  a  Spirit  that  so  works  as  was 
not  to  be  expected,  and  that  cannot  be  prescribed  unto. 
Who  hath  directed  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord,  or,  being  his 
counsellor,  hath  taught  him  1  Isa.  xl.  13. 

2.  It  is  a  very  various  influence,  in  the  degrees  of  its 
communication  and  operation.  It  may  well  be  so,  as  being 
most  free.  It  is  not  communicated  alike  unto  all  who 
have  been  born  of  this  Spirit,  nor  to  all  those,  nor  to  any 
of  them,  alike  at  nil  times.  Some  have  more  light  and 
joy,  more  strength  and  vigour,  than  others  have  ;  and  the 
same  persons  have  themselves  their  more  lucid  and  turbid 
intervals,  and  in  their  time  there  is  often  a  very  quick 
succession  of  night  and  day;  there  is  sorrow  in  the  night, 
and  a  calm  in  the  morning,  and  quick  interchanges  of 
such  darkness  and  light,  as  in  Psalm  xxx.  5.  Which  va- 
riations do  proceed  partly  from  sovereignity,  as  haih  been 
said  ;  but  partly  also  from  paternal  justice.  From  sove- 
reignty we  may  suppose,  in  great  part,  this  Spirit  comes 
and  goes,  even  as  it  will,  as  to  its  more  observable  com- 
munications, to  discover  its  liberty ;  but  oftentimes  it  varies 
the  course  of  its  dispensation,  and  the  state  of  the  soul 
with  whom  it  hath  to  do,  in  a  way  of  paternal  justice. 
For  as  we  know  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  economical 
justice  as  well  as  political,  among  us,  so  there  is  a  justice 
too  which  the  holy  God  doth  exercise  in  his  own  family, 
and  among  the  children  which  have  been  begotten  and 
born  of  him,  as  well  as  towards  those  who  are  under  his 
government  upon  a  more  common  account :  and  it  is  very 
meet  and  reasonnble  it  should  be  so.  It  were  a  most  in- 
congruous thing,  if  he  should  be  equally  indulgent  unto 
the  careless  and  vain,  and  wanton  and  extravagant,  and 
the  negligent  of  him  and  their  own  doty;  as  to  the  serious, 
and  watchful,  and  diligent,  and  those  who  are  most  stu- 
dious to  please  him,  and  most  in  love  with  his  presence. 
He  doth  in  his  displeasure  many  times  withdraw  and  hide 


himself,  for  the  rebuke  of  negligences  and  undutiful  de- 
portments towards  him ;  and  he  doth  upon  the  account  of 
the  same  justice  show,  or  manifest  himself,  (as  our  Sa- 
viour's expression  is  in  John  xiv.  21.)  fijr  the  encourage- 
ment and  reward  of  those  that  do  more  closely  and  faith- 
fully adhere  to  him,  and  make  it  more  iheir  business  and 
study  to  please  and  imitate  him.  The  Spirit  is  often 
grieved,  and  in  a  degree  quenched,  by  the  carelessness, 
and  neglects,  and  resistances  even  of  its  own  offspring,  or  of 
those  who  have  been  born  of  it;  and  then  the  discipline  of 
the  family  doth  require  that  they  should  be  put  to  rebuke; 
and  so  its  influence  comes  to  be  an  often  varying  thing. 

3.  Yet  it  is  so  far  a  continual  influence  as  is  necessary 
for  the  maintaining  of  the  root  of  this  life,  that  that  may 
not  totally  wither  ;  and  therefore  at  the  lowest  ebb  of  those 
who  are  the  offspring  of  this  Spirit,  there  is  still  a  sustain- 
ing influence  upon  them.  As  it  was  very  low  v;ith  the 
Psalmist  in  the  73rd  Psalm,  when  he  was  just  ready  to 
throw  up  all :  Verily  I  have  cleansed  my  heart  in  vain, 
ver.  13.  He  thought  it  was  to  no  purpose  to  be  any  longer 
religious ;  he  was  become  in  the  temper  of  his  spirit  so 
unlike  a  saint,  that  he  judged  himself,  upon  reflection,  to 
be  a  great  deal  more  like  a  beast.  And  yet  he  says  in  the 
23rd  verse,  that  he  had  been  ever  with  God  :  "  Neverthe- 
less I  am  continually  with  thee."  Even  all  that  while 
there  was  a  presence  of  God  continued,  and  he  was  even 
then  held  by  his  right  hand.  So  are  the  souls  of  his  held 
in  life:  Which  holdeth  our  souls  in  life,  Psalm  Ixvi.  9. 
Though  that  might  have  another,  yet  it  is  probable  enough 
to  have  a  spiritual,  meaning,  and  there  are  passages  in  the 
context  that  may  incline  us  to  apprehend  so. 

4.  It  is  a  still,  silent,  a  secret,  and  often  an  unobserved, 
influence  ;  such  as  by  which  no  great  noise  is  made,  and 
many  times  doth  escape  the  notice  of  them  who  are  the 
subjects  of  it.  Their  life  is  a  .secret  kind  of  life,  "  hid 
with  Christ  in  God,"  and  by  such  a  kind  of  influence  it  is 
maintained.  God  is  near  mp^y  times,  when  it  is  not 
known.  He  was  in  the  very  place,  (and  we  can't  think 
that  Jacob  meant  it,  by  his  essential  presence,  for  that  he 
very  well  knew,  but  by  his  gracious  presence,)  and  he 
says  that  he  knew  it  not.  q.  d.  "  I  little  thought  of  God's 
being  so  nigh."  Gen.  xxviii.  16.  And  we  may  at  lea.st 
allude  to  those  words  in  Hos.  xi.  3.  I  taught  Ephraim  to 
go,  taking  them  by  their  arms ;  but  they  knew  not  that  I 
healed  them.  He  deals  so  with  those  who  are  born  of  him, 
as  even  to  teach  them  to  go,  and  they  know  not  that  it  is  he 
that  carries  them  all  along.  The  operation  of  the  Spirit 
doth  very  much  imitate  that  of  nature :  it  is  in  a  very  still 
and  silent  way  that  the  sap  is  drained  in  by  the  root,  and 
ascends  up  the  trunk  of  the  tree,  and  diffuses  itself  to  every 
branch,  so  that  we  may  see  that  it  lives,  but  we  don't  see 
how.  The  case  is  with  souls  that  are  brought  to  live  in 
the  Spirit,  as  with  very  infirm  and  languishing  per.=:ons, 
who  have  been  consumed,  and  even  next  to  death,  in  a 
putrid  and  corrupt  air ;  bemg  removed  into  such  as  is  pure 
and  wholesome  they  revive,  but  in  a  very  insensible  way : 
so  is  this  life  preserved  by  a  vital,  spiritual  influence  which 
is  as  pure  air  to  them,  a  gentle,  indulgent,  benign,  and 
cherishing  air ;  they  live  by  it,  and  never  a  whit  the  worse, 
because  it  is  not  so  turbulent  as  to  make  a  noise. 

5.  As  still  and  silent  as  it  is,  it  is  yet  a  very  powerful 
and  fflicacious  influence.  The  case  requires  that  it  should 
be  so ;  for  it  is  a  great  thing  to  maintain  such  a  life  upon 
such  terms.  A  thing  that  is  so  purely  divine,  if  it  were  not 
maintained  by  a  strong  hand,  it  were  hardly  to  be  thought 
how  it  should  subsist  in  such  a  region  as  this,  so  every 
way  unsuitable  to  it ;  it  is  a  life  continually  assaulted, 
ofien  struck  at ;  a  life  employed  in  continual  conflicts  and 
crowned  v.ith  many  a  glorious  victory,  and  that  implies  a 
mighty  power  to  be  employed  to  preserve  life  and  main- 
lain  it.  When  I  am  weak,  then  I  am  strong,  2  Cor.  xii.  10. 
Sure  he  must  be  weak  in  one  respec',  and  strong  in  ano- 
ther:  weak,  he  must  mean  spiritually  too:  weak,  if  you 
consider  the  principle  in  itself,  absolutely;  strong,  if  you 
consider  it  in  reference  to  the  continual  aids  and  supplies 
that  are  given  in.  And  it  is  plain  that  the  exercises  of  this 
life  require,  that  strength  and  might  should  be  emplo)-ed 
to  maintain  it  through  them.  Very  difficult  and  hard  things 
they  are,  which  those  who  live  this  life,  are  exposed  to  the 
sufferings  of,  and  merely  because  they  live  this  life,  and 


Serm.  X. 


IN  REFERENCE  TO  PARTICULAR  PERSONS. 


533 


hold  it  forth  that  they  are,  in  this  sense,  aiive:  as  nobody 
goes  about  to  wound  a  dead  man,  there  is  no  need  of  that. 
Therefore  is  that  rapturous  prayer  of  the  apostle  in  Col.  i. 
11,  12.  that  the}'  might  be  strengthened  with  all  might,  ac- 
cording to  his  glorious  power,  unto  all  patience  and  long- 
sutfering  with  joyfulness ;  giving  thanks  to  the  Father, 
who  had  made  them  meet  to  be  partakers  of  the  inheritance 
of  the  saints  in  light.  Made  them  meet,  by  making  them 
sons,  and  to  inherit  as  sons,  or  receive  the  inheritance  of 
the  saints  in  light.  They  were  born  light,  and  of  light :  Ye 
were  darkness,  but  now  are  ye  light  in  the  Lord,  Eph.  v.  8. 
Why,  that  being  supposed,  it  required,  as  the  apo.stle's 
prayer  implies,  an  exertion  of  mighty,  glorious  power,  to 
maintain  this  life  unto  that  pitch  and  degree,  that  they  might 
have  a  greater  disposition  to  give  thanks  for  what  God  had 
done  upon  them,  to  make  them  meet  and  capable  subjects 
of  such  an  inheritance,  than  to  complain  of  a  little  suffer- 
ing. "  Strengthened  with  all  might,  according  to  his  glo- 
rious power,"  with  such  a  kind  of  might  as  bears  the  very 
impress  and  image  upon  it  of  God's  own  glorious  power 
itself;  a  might  that  has  a  glory  upon  it,  and  accords  to  its 
original :  as  you  may  suppose  the  effect,  in  such  causa- 
tions as  this,  to  be  very  like  to  the  cause,  and  to  the  pro- 
ductive influence.  The  new  creature,  as  soon  as  it  is  born, 
is  born  to  conflict,  toil,  and  travail ;  born  for  fight,  and  born 
for  victory.  Such  were  the  heroes,  the  sons  of  God.  One 
so  highly  born,  we  must  suppose  born  for  great  things ;  not 
only  to  enjoy,  but  to  perform ;  and  there  must  be  a  power 
proportionable  hereunto  to  go  with  this  heaven-born  crea- 
ture. I  have  written  unto  you,  young  men,  says  the  apos- 
tle, because  ye  are  strong,  and  have  overcome  the  wicked 
one,  1  John  ii.  14.  Whilst  they  were  yet  but  young,  they 
had  so  great  a  conquest  to  glory  in.  "  Ye  have  overcome 
the  wicked  one,"  ye,  calling  them  by  the  name  of  little 
ones,  a  lower  rank  being  designed  by  that  expression  :  he 
yet  tells  them,  that  they  had  overcome,  because  greater  was 
he  that  was  in  them,  than  he  that  was  in  the  world,  chap. 
iv.  4.  And  in  chap.  v.  4.  he  says,  that  whatsoever  is  born  of 
God  overcometh  the  world.  The  predication  is  so  univer- 
sal, that  we  can  conceive  no  state  of  a  person  born  of  God, 
be  he  never  so  newly  born,  but  he  is,  even  in  that  instant, 
made  superior  over  this  world,  hath  got  the  better  of  it, 
made  his  escape  from  the  corruptions  of  it,  which  would 
hinder  him  through  lust,  and  hath  it  in  a  degree  under  his 
feet:  and  therefore  it  must  be  a  powerful  influence,  b}^ 
which  his  life  is  maintained.  Who  are  kept  by  the  mighty 
power  of  God  through  faith  unto  salvation,  1  Pet.  i.  5. 

6.  It  is  a  connatural  influence,  or  suitable  to  the  nature 
of  man  both  as  reasonable  and  renewed.  As  reasonable, 
it  doth  it  no  violence :  I  drew  them  with  the  cords  of  a 
man,  and  with  the  bands  of  love,  Hcs.  xi.  4.  And  it  is 
accommodated  unto  all  the  principles  of  the  new  nature. 
It  is  an  influence  of  faith  to  faith,  of  love  to  love,  of  meek- 
ness to  meekness,  and  of  humility  to  humility,  as  was  in- 
timated formerly. 

7.  It  is  a  co-operative,  or  assisting  influence.  Such  as 
doth  engage  us  in  the  endeavour  of  preserving  our  own 
life,  and  then  assists  or  co-operates  with  us  therein.  As 
the  matter  is  in  reference  to  the  reflex  acting  of  the  soul, 
so  it  is,  in  proportion,  in  reference  vmto  the  direct.  As 
when  he  would  know  what  is  wrought  and  done,  or  what 
impressions  are  made  within,  the  Spirit  beareth  witness 
with  our  spirit,  in  that  reflex  way  of  operation,  Rom.  viii. 
16.  So  it,  proportionably,  doth  in  the  direct  way  of  opera- 
tion too,  it  works  with  our  spirits,  and  makes  use  of  their 
own  agency,  in  order  to  the  maintaining  of  their  owm  life. 
And  therefore  as  you  have  heard  in  that  now  mentioned 
Scripture,  that  we  are  kept  by  the  mighty  power  of  God 
through  faith  unto  salvation,  so  we  are  told  too  in  1  John 
V.  18.  that  he  that  is  begotten  of  God,  keepeth  himself,  and 
that  wicked  one  toucheth  him  not ;  he  keeps  himself  from 
those  deadl}',  mortal  touches  which  would  endanger  his 
precious  life ;  i.  e.  he  is  his  own  under-keeper.  We  are 
every  one  to  be  a  brother's  keeper,  much  more  to  ourselves ; 
but  still  in  a  subordinate  sense,  subservient  to,  and  de- 
pendent upon,  that  supreme  one.  Indeed  it  were  a  kind 
of  a  monstrous  thing  in  the  creation,  that  there  should  be 
so  noble  a  life  planted  there,  but  destitute  of  the  self- 
preserving  faculty  or  disposition  ;  wherea.'^  every  life,  how 
mean  soever,  even  that  of  a  worm,  a  gnat,  or  a  fly,  hath 

38 


an  aptitude  in  it,  or  a  disposition  accompanying  it  to  pre- 
serve itself. 

8.  It  is  a  regular  and  an  ordinate  influence.  I  put  these 
together,  because  they  have  an  affinity,  though  they  may 
import  somewhat  diverse  notions.  The  Spirit  works  ac- 
cording to  rule,  or  agreeably  unto  the  word,  in  what  it 
does  for  the  maintaining  of  this  life.  My  Spirit  that  is 
upon  thee,  and  my  words  which  I  have  put  in  thv  mouth, 
.shall  not  depart,  Isa.  lix.  21.  The  word  and  the  Spirit  go 
together  among  all  this  race.  The  Spirit  breathes  in  the 
word  for  the  maintaining  of  this  life.  And  so  it  is  the 
influence  of  ordinate,  not  of  absolute  power,  which  works 
so  as  that  there  is  no  proportion  between  what  it  works, 
and  what  it  works  by ;  it  works  by  apt  and  suitable  means, 
and  applies  and  directs  our  spirits  unto  such  objects  as  are 
apt  to  be  nutritive,  or  carry  in  them  a  suitable  aliment  for 
the  maintenance  of  this  life.  Why,  our  natural  life  is 
maintained  by  a  divine  influence  too;  we  could  not  other- 
wise draw  breath,  or  subsist  a  moment.  But  how  is  it 
maintained  1  Not  by  miracle.  Not  in  such  a  waj'  as  doth 
supersede  all  useful  means  for  that  purpose :  but  it  is 
maintained  by  God's  preserving  and  directing  the  natural 
faculties  that  belong  to  us,  unto  such  objects  as  are  suit- 
able for  the  maintaining  of  natural  life,  and  may  be  aptly 
nutritive  thereof.  He  doth  not  maintain  this  life  of  ours 
without  eating,  or  drinking,  or  breathing;  by  an  influence 
exclusive  of  all  such  means,  nor  without  apt  and  suitable 
means  too:  for  it  is  not  maintained  by  feeding  upon  iron, 
or  stones,  or  by  drinking  of  poison,  or  by  breathing  in 
contagious  airs;  but  by  what  is  agreeable  to  itself,  and  apt 
to  afford  a  suitable  aliment  to  it.  So  it  is  in  the  spiritual 
life  also:  it  is  not  maintained  by  an  influence  that  doth 
exclude  apt  and  proper  means,  but  by  this  influence  the 
mind  and  spirit  is  directed  to  intend  and  converse  with 
such  objects,  out  of  which  it  can  draw  nourishment,  and 
which  are  suitable  unto  this  purpose.  God  doth  not 
maintain  this  life  in  sucii  a  way,  and  upon  such  terms,  as 
that,  though  men  mind  nothing  in  the  world  else,  but 
what  the  men  of  this  world  do,  they  shall  live  well  not- 
withstanding. It  is  not  strange  if  they  who  feed  upon 
husks,  who  converse  with  nothing  but  shadows,  and  pant 
only  after  the  dust  of  the  earth,  are  very  languishing  souls. 
Things  altogether  insipid,  that  have  no  sap,  or  juice,  or 
savour  in  them,  formalities  of  religion,  doubtful  opinions, 
disputes  about  minute  and  inconsiderable  things,  airy  no- 
tions that  are  apt  to  drop  or  distil  nothing  upon  the  spirit 
of  a  man,  are  not  the  things  that  this  life  is  likely  to  be 
maintained  by. 

And  this  influence  is  such  as  doth  work  by  likely  and 
apt  means,  as  it  enableth  the  soul  to  savour  those  things 
which  are  called  the  rh  Ili'fii/iaru;,  the  things  of  the  Spirit, 
as  you  have  it  in  Rom.  viii.  5.  They  that  are  after  the 
flesh,  do  mind  (or  savour)  only  the  things  of  the  flesh,  but 
they  that  are  after  (he  Spirit,  the  things  of  the  Spirit ;  and 
so  they  live  by  good,  and  suitable,  and  savoury  food,  being 
made  capable  of  savouring  that  food.  As  new-born  babes, 
desire  the  sincere  milk  of  the  word,  that  ye  may  grow 
thereby ;  a^<t\ov  ynXn,  that  purciindcccitful  viil/c,  as  the  word 
there  imports,  1  Pet.  ii.  2.  The  way  therefore  in  which 
the  Spirit  doth  maintain  and  improve  this  life,  and  afford 
vigour  to  it,  is  by  leading  the  soul  often  into  heaven,  and 
making  it  to  converse  in  the  invisible  regions  ;  and  to  for- 
get this  world,  and  that  it  hath  any  relation  to  it,  when  it 
converses  with  God  in  spirit,  and  is  made  to  look  (for  it 
draws  down  its  nutriment  even  by  the  eye)  by  failh  into 
the  things  that  are  unseen  and  hoped  for;  whereof  that 
faith  is  the  very  substance  and  evidence  too. 

9.  This  influence  is  gradually  perfective  of  the  whole 
soul.  Such  as  tends  to  improve  it  ;  such  as  by  which  it  is 
still  growing  up  to  the  measure  of  the  stature  of  a  perfect 
man  in  Christ  Jesus,  Eph.  iv.  13.  We  infer  upon  all  that 
hath  been  said,  that  there  is  siich  a  life  as  this.  A  very 
obvious  inference,  but  it  is  very  sad  that  it  should  be  need- 
ful to  make  it.  For  alas  !  how  hardly  and  slowly  does  it 
enter  into  the  minds  of  most,  that  there  is  such  a  thing, 
notwithstanding  all  those  many  and  great  things  which  the 
word  of  God  is  full  of  concerning  it!  It  is  very  strange 
that  we  should  have  such  accounts  in  Scripture  oif  the  way 
of  begetting  it,  of  the  nature  and  tendency  of  it,  how  it  is 
maintained,  what  the  operations  of  it  are,  what  the  enjoy- 


534 


THE  WORK  OP  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT 


Serm.  XI 


menls,  what  the  pains  which  it  doth  at  any  time  suffer, 
■what  its  improvements,  ami  what  it  shall  end  in  at  last, 
viz.  eternal  life;  and  that  still  it  should  be  disbelieved  by 
them,  who  v/ill  not  profess  to  believe  the  Bible  a  legend, 
that  there  is  such  a  life.  They  must  too  certainly  disbe- 
lieve that  there  is  any  eternal  life;  for  nothing  can  be 
plainer,  than  that  the  life,  which  shall  never  end,  must 
sometime  begin.  But  against  so  clear  evidence  there  is 
noihing  to  be  opposed,  but  ignorance  and  inexperience; 
"We  know  no  such  matter,  and  therefore  we  will  not  be- 
lieve it,  say  about  it  what  can  be  said."  But  what  strange 
folly  is  this!  What  rashness  !  Such  as  any  prudent  man 
in  another  instance  would  censure  and  damn  for  the  most 
vain,  foolish,  and  preposterous  rashness.  If  any  man  shall 
say,  that  he  will  not  believe  that  there  is  in  another,  such 
or  such  an  excellency,  superior  to  what  is  in  himself,  be- 
cause he  does  not  experience  the  same  thing  in  himself, 
he  would  be  thought  fitter  to  be  hooted  at  than  confuted. 
We  do  not  reckon  brutes  capable  judges  of  the  perfections 
and  improveableness  of  the  nature  of  men  ;  nor  do  we 
think  one  man  a  competent  judge  of  what  is  in  the  spirit 
of  another.  What  man  knoweth  the  things  of  a  man,  save 
the  spirit  of  a  man  that  is  in  him  1  so  the  things  of  God 
knoweth  no  man,  but  the  Spirit  of  God,  1  Cor.  ii.  11. 
Such  as  have  been  exercised  about  such  matters  can  tell 
you«  much  of  the  pleasure  of  philosophical  knowledge; 
and  divers  can  tell  yon  of  the  strange  things  that  are  per- 
f  jrmable  by  mechanical  and  chemical  powers  and  opera- 
tions. Who  would  not  think  that  countryman  very  ridi- 
culous, who  because  he  knows  nothing  at  all  of  these 
matters,  will  therefore  deny  that  there  are  any  men  in  the 
world,  that  are  of  more  excellent  skill  and  judgment  than 
himself,  about  things  of  such  a  nature  1  He  does  not 
know  what  belongs  to  chemistry,  and  therefore  he  will  not 
believe  there  is  any  chemist.  He  knows  not  what  belongs 
to  astronomy,  and  therefore  he  does  not  think  there  is  any 
.such  skill  as  astronomical  skill.  This  is  a  piece  of  folly 
v/hich  confutes  itself,  when  men  have  no  more  to  say,  why 
they  will  not  admit  that  there  is  a  divine  life,  a  life  come 
from  heaven,  than  that  they  feel  in  their  own  spirits  no 
workings  of  any  such  life.  They  may  know  indeed  how 
the  case  is  with  themselves;  that  there  is  no  such  thing 
as  life  springing  in  them,  that  carries  their  hearts  to  God, 
and  makes  them  still  seek  nearer  and  nearer  union  with 
him,  thirst  alter  his  presence,  and  long  to  be  near  him  ; 
that  carries  them  up  often  into  heaven,  and  fills  them  with 
heavenly  joy  and  solace  in  the  foretaste  of  that  blessed 
expected  state ;  they  may  know,  I  say,  that  there  is  no  such 
thing  in  their  ov/n  hearts.  But  what !  will  you  therefore 
judge  there  is  no  such  thing  in  all  the  worldl  As  if  your 
knowledge  were  the  measure  of  all  reality,  and  there  could 
be  nothing  within  all  the  compass  of  being,  but  what  must 
be  Vv'ithin  the  compass  of  yo-ur  understanding  and  experi- 
ence. This  is  the  greatest  folly  that  can  be  thought  of. 
We  do  not  use  so  foolishly  to  conclude,  when  we  hear  of 
the  pleasures  and  delicacies  of  such  and  such  a  country 
spoken  of,  in  which  we  have  never  been,  that  there  is  no 
such  thing,  because  we  have  not  seen  it  with  our  own  eyes; 
or,  there  are  no  such  fruits,  because  we  have  not  relished 
them  with  our  taste.  It  will  be  therefore  of  very  great 
importance  to  us  to  fix  the  belief  of  this  in  our  own  souls, 
that  there  is  such  a  life ;  when  the  Spirit  of  the  living  God 
hath  so  much  to  do  about  it,  and  is  continually  attending 
It  as  his  charge.  Doth  it  employ  itself  about  nothing'? 
But  the  time  doth  not  allow  to  proceed. 


SERMON  XL* 

We  are  speaking  of  the  influence  by  which  the  divine 
life  IS  ir.aintamed  ;  and  have  already  shown  what  kind  of 
influence  it  is.  We  are  now  to  show  how  it  is  ascertained 
unto  regenerate  souls,  or,  give  you  some  account  of  the 
certainty  of  it. 

1.  It  is  ascertained  by  the  relation  they  hereupon  come 
to  stand  in  to  God.  They  are  his  children,  his  begotten 
*  Preached  Febniary27th,  167S,  at  Cordwainer'B  Hall. 


ones.  You  know  it  is  naturally  every  one's  care  to  pro- 
vide for  those  who  have  been  born  of  them,  unto  whom 
they  have  been  (though  but  the  secondary)  authors  of  life 
and  being.  And  the  apostle  argues  even  in  this  very  case 
from  this  reason,  Rom.  viii.  13, 14.  If  ye  through  the  Spi-  ^^mw 
rit  do  mortify  the  deeds  of  the  body,  ye  shall  live.  Fov  Sjl 
as  many  as  are  led  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  they  are  the  sqjis 
of  God  :  q.  d.  "  Do  you  think  that  he  will  not  care  that  his 
own  sons  shall  live  V  And  the  argument  is  yet  more 
strong  and  enforcing,  if  you  consider  how  this  relation 
terminates,  ^■^.^•.  more  peculiarly  and  remarkably  upon  our 
very  .spirits;  for  so  you  find  he  is  called  the  Father  of 
spirits  in  contradistinction  unto  the  fathers  of  our  flesh, 
Heb.  xii.  9.  Therefore  the  relation  leads  to  a  more  spe- 
cial care  and  concern  about  the  life  of  our  spirits,  and 
most  especially  about  that  life  of  them,  which  is  most  im- 
mediately from  him,  and  most  resembles  his  own:  not 
that  natural  life,  which  we  have  in  common  with  the  rest 
of  men,  but  that  life  which  is  the  more  peculiar  product 
of  his  own  blessed  Spirit,  even  as  it  is  the  Spirit  of  grace 
and  of  holiness.  It  is  in  that  sense  (as  we  have  formerly 
shown  you  at  large)  that  we  are  said  to  be  born  spirit  of 
spirit.  It  is  only  a  production,  or  generation  secundum 
quid,  and  in  this  peculiar  respect,  the  thing  produced  being 
his  own  holy,  living  image,  or  a  nature  superadded  to  the 
human  nature  conform  unto  his  own  in  moral  re.spects, 
and  having  been,  in  this  so  peculiar  a  kind,  a  Parent  and 
an  Author  of  life,  it  is  not  at  all  to  be  doubted,  but  the  re- 
lation will  draw  with  it  the  greatest  care  about  that  life 
which  he  hath  given. 

2.  Add  hereunto  the  paternal  love  which  accompanies 
the  relation.  There  is  many  times  the  relation  of  a  father 
unaccompanied  with  the  love  of  a  father,  (though  it  is  very 
unnatural  where  it  is  so,)  but  here  it  is  not  so  to  be  under- 
stood. It  were  horrid  and  blasphemous  to  think  such  a 
thought.  Do  we  suppose  him,  who  is  the  very  Fountain 
of  that  natural  affection  which  still  descends  and  flows 
down,  through  all  the  successive  generations  of  the  world, 
in  an  ordinary  stated  course,  from  father  to  son,  to  be 
destitute  of  it  himself;  that  there  is  a  penury  and  want, 
or  a  failure  in  the  very  Fountain  1  Like  as  a  father  pitieth 
his  children,  so  the  Lord  pitieth  them  that  fear  him.  Psalm 
ciii.  13.  He  is  the  very  Fountain  and  Spring  of  all  that 
kindness,  and  pity,  and  compassion,  and  love,  that  did 
ever  reside  in  the  hearts  of  any  parents  towards  their  own 
children,  he  put  and  placed  it  there ;  therefore  we  are  to 
concei\'e  it  in  him,  as  in  its  highest  original,  and  its  proper 
and  native  seat,  and  therefore  fully  and  most  invaiiably 
there.  And  our  Saviour's  argumentation  to  this  very  pur- 
pose, how  much  doth  it  carry  of  convictive  evidence  with 
it !  If  ye  being  evil,  know  how  to  give  good  gifts  unto 
your  children,  how  much  more  will  your  heavenly  Father 
give  his  Spirit  unto  them  that  ask  him  !  Luke  xi.  13.  And 
it  is  an  instinct  put  into  all  that  are  of  this  divine  progeny 
to  be  still  looking  up  with  craving  eyes  for  this  Spirit. 
It  is  the  very  sum  of  the  desire  of  the  new  creature,  it  doth, 
as  it  WQTe,  comprehensively  enwrap  all  its  desires ;  it  is 
its  very  natural  sense,  "  Lord,  thy  Spirit !"  Though  it  is 
many  times  a  silent  and  inexplicit  prayer,  yet  it  is,  as  it 
were,  the  voice  of  that  new  nature,  "more  of  thy  Spirit." 
The  exigency  of  the  case  speaks,  the  very  languors  and 
faintings  of  holy  souls  carry  craving  in  them,  though  they 
have  not  so  formed  desires,  that  they  can  reflect  upon  them 
and  take  notice  of  them :  even  as  the  parched  ground  doth 
secretly  supplicate  to  the  heavens  for  relief  and  supplies. 
Such  we  know  the  Psalmist's  metaphor  is  once  and  again. 
And  do  we  think  that  the  Father  of  mercies  (as  he  is  call- 
ed, as  well  as  the  Father  of  our  spirits)  will  not  hear  the 
cries,  and  regard  the  necessities,  even  the  crying  necessi- 
ties, of  his  own  (otherwise  languishing  and  dying)  off- 
spring? He  that  feeds  the  ravens,  will  he  starve  souls'? 
The  very  sea-monsters  draw  forth  their  breasts,  and  do  we 
think  that  there  is  less  pity  and  compassion  with  Godi 
The  instinct  is  natural  even  in  inferior  nature,  and  stronger 
according  as  the  order  of  being  is  more  noble  in  which  it  is 
to  be  found.  It  is  true,  there  may  be  among  human  crea- 
tures, some  more  than  monsters,  so  prodigiously  unnatural 
as  not  to  regard  the  fruit  of  their  own  bodies.  Lam.  iv.  3. 
But  suppose  such  a  case;  if  a  woman  can  forget  her  suck- 


Serm.  XI. 


IN  REFERENCE  TO  PARTICULAR  PERSONS. 


&35 


ing  child,  ■nd  nol  have  compaysiou  on  the  fruit  of  her 
■womb, — ye;  will  not  I  forget,  saith  the  Lord,  Isa.  xlix.  15. 
I  can  nevei  forget  you :  I  have  graven  you  upon  the  palms 
of  my  hands,  as  there  it  is  explained.  As  if  the  design 
were  to  let  us  know,  that  he  did  make  it  a  concern  to  him- 
self never  to  forget,  that  he  would  always  have  a  remem- 
brancing  token  before  his  eyes,  to  make  supply  to  the 
necessity  of  souls,  as  their  case  should  require. 

3.  Some  thought  may  possibly  occur  with  some ;  that 
though  it  be  true  that  a  fatherly  love  doth  commonly  fol- 
low the  relation,  yet,  where  it  hath  been  in  much  strength 
and  vigour,  possibly  something  or  other  may  avert  it, 
something  may  be  done  by  a  child  to  alienate  the  father's 
love  ;  we  have  therefore  a  yet  further  assurance  from  the 
Divine  wisdom  and  all-comprehending  knowledge.  Prom 
which  it  must  be  understood,  that  when  he  formed  the 
design  of  raising  up  to  himself  such  a  seed  from  .among 
the  lapsed  children  of  men,  he  had  the  compass  of  it  lying 
in  view,  and  all  things  were  present  to  his  eye  that  should 
any  way  come  to  influence  this  design,  or  have  any  aspect 
npon  it  one  way  or  another,  whether  to  hinder  or  promote 
it:  and  yet  it  is  manifest  that  he  had  such  a  design,  and 
hath  laid  and  fixed  it,  having  all  things  in  his  view,  even 
whatsoever  might  make  most  against  it.  Commonly  if  the 
minds  and  inclinations  of  persons  do  alter  so,  as  that  they 
come  to  disaffect,  where  heretofore  they  have  borne  a  very 
peculiar  love  and  kindness,  it  is  upon  some  surprise  that 
the  alienation  begins,  something  falling  out  unio  them 
which  was  altogether  unexpected  :  they  did  not  think  that 
such  a  one  would  have  served  them  so  and  so,  or  have 
dealt  so  with  them.  Bnt  unto  all-comprehending  know- 
ledge nothing  is  new.  The  blessed  God  had  the  entire 
prospect  of  his  whole  de.sign,  nor  can  we  therefore  suppose 
any  thing  that  should  alienate  his  paternal  love,  after  he 
hath  begun  to  exercise  and  express  it,  which  he  had  not 
obvious  unto  his  notice  before.  He  loves  with  an  everlast- 
ing love,  from  everlasting  to  everlasting:  Having  loved 
he  loves  to  the  end.  John  xiii.  1.  And  whereas  it  may  be 
also  said,  that  though  we  should  suppose  a  continuing  love 
with  a  father  towards  his  own  children,  j^et  he  may  be  re- 
duced to  those  straits  that  he  cannot  do  for  them  as  he 
would;  the  matter  therefore  is  further  ascertained, 

4.  From  his  all-sufticient  fulness.  There  is  still  the 
same  undecaying  plenitude  of  Spirit  with  him,  that  can 
never  abate  or  grow  less.  It  is  a  spring  or  fountain  unex- 
hausted and  unexhaustible,  that  can  never  be  drained  or 
drawn  dry.  And  therefore  do  we  think,  that  those  who 
have  received  this  life  from  him  shall  not  continue  to  live, 
when  there  is  such  love,  and  kindness,  and  compassion  in 
conjunction  with  so  rich  and  undecaying  fulness  1  Me- 
thinks  to  any  reasonable  understanding  this  should  make 
the  matter  very  sure.     Again, 

5.  We  are  further  ascertained  by  his  express  promi.se. 
And  it  is  very  considerable  unto  this  purpose,  how  noted 
and  eminent  in  the  Scripture,  especially  in  the  New  Tes- 
tament, (though  we  have  divers  instances  too  in  the  Old,) 
the  promise  is  of  the  Spirit.  Indeed  the  matter  is  so  re- 
presented to  us,  that  we  have  reason  to  account,  that  as 
before  Christ's  coming,  the  coming  of  Christ  was  the  great 
promise,  and  the  hope  of  Israel ;  so  after  the  coming  of 
Christ  in  the  flesh,  the  gift  of  the  Spirit  was  the  great  pro- 
mise, the  promise  of  the  Gospel,  Christ  being  (as  then  he 
was)  actually  come.  It  is  therefore  to  be  observed,  (in  Acts 
ii.  38,  39.  that  the  apostle  in  that  sermon  calling  upon  his 
hearers  (who  were  principally  Jews,  at  least  by  religion) 
to  repent,  he  tells  them  for  their  encouragement  that  they 
should  "receive  the  gift  of  the  Holy  Ghost;  for  the  pro- 
mise is  unto  you  and  your  children."  Observe  the  con- 
nexion ;  the  giving  of  the  Holy  Ghost  is  spoken  of  by  him 
as  the  promise,  which  did  virtually  comprehend  in  it  the 
sum  of  the  Gospel :  and  virtually  it  did  so,  for  if  that  were 
once  made  good,  all  would  be  sure  to  be  made  good.  And 
our  Saviour  speaks  of  this  as  what  would  be  a  greater  good, 
a  good  that  would  more  than  compensate  his  own  longer 
abode  and  presence  in  the  flesh  among  his  disciples  :  It  is 
expedient  for  you  that  I  go  away;  for  if  I  s:o  not  away 
the  Comforter  will  not  come  unto  you,  but  if  I  depart,  I 
will  send  him  unto  you,  John  xvi.  7.  Certainly  it  could 
not  be  expedient  to  part  with  a  greater  good  for  a  less  ; 
no,  nor  could  it  be  said  to  be  an  expediency  to  part  with 


an  equal  good  for  an  equal :  if  then  it  were  expedient  that 
He  should  go,  that  the  Spirit  might  come,  that  must  be 
reckoned  a  good  superior  to  his  mere  bodily  presence  and 
abode.  And  so  the  apostle  plainly  intimates  in  2  Cor.  v. 
17.  compared  with  what  goes  immediately  before.  Though 
we  have  known  Christ  after  the  flesh,  yet  now  hencelbrih 
know  we  him  no  more.  He  i^peaks  of  the  matter  with 
complacency,  and  with  a  kind  of  jubilation  ;  q.  d.  I  do 
not  desire  to  know  him  after  the  flesh  any  more,  that  is, 
in  comparison  of  what  he  after  speaks  of,  viz.  that  inward, 
vital,  spiritual  union  with  him,  by  which  the  whole  frame 
of  the  new  creation  comes  to  spring  up  in  the  soul.  "  If 
any  man  be  in  Christ  he  is  a  new  creature  ;  old  things  are 
passed  away,  behold,  all  things  are  become  new."  And  it 
is  promised  in  John  xiv.  IG.  that  this  Spirit  shall  be  given 
to  abide  with  them  for  ever,  in  most  exact  correspondence 
unto  the  end  and  purpose  for  which  he  was  to  be  given, 
(ver.  19.)  to  be  the  continual  maintainer  of  their  life.  That 
must  be  a  very  constant  thing  to  us  which  we  are  con- 
tinually to  live  by,  for  if  there  were  an  intcrcision  of  life 
for  a  moment  it  would  not  be  recovered.  From  the  priva- 
tion of  a  habit  there  were  no  return.  He  says  therefore, 
"  he  shall  give  you  another  Comforter,  that  he  may  abide 
with  you  for  ever  ;"  so  fully  to  answer  the  exigence  of  the 
case,  that  you  shall  be  no  moment  destitute  of  his  vital 
influence. 

6.  We  are  further  assured  from  the  consideration  of  the 
Divine  faithfulness,  without  the  consideration  whereof  the 
promise  would  signify  little.  For  there  are  many  promises 
made,  and  not  kept ;  but  "  he  is  faithful  that  hath  promises." 
The  promise  of  an  unfaithful  person  gives  very  little  assu- 
rance ;  but  we  are  to  add  to  the  consideiation  of  the  express 
promise  of  God,  that  it  is  most  simply  repugnant  to  the 
perfection  of  his  nature  to  be  capable  of  deceiving  us.  In 
hope  of  eternal  life,  which  God,  that  cannot  lie,  hath  pro- 
mised. Tit.  i.  2.  And  that  eternal  life  is  nothing  else  but 
this  life,  whereof  the  Spirit  hath  been  the  Author,  conti- 
nued and  improved  unto  that  blessed,  eternal  state,  till  it 
reach  to  that  plenitude  and  fulness  of  life  at  length.  A 
well  of  water  springing  up  into  everlasting  life,  John  iv.  14. 
And  God,  that  we  might  be  assured  that  he  will  keep  his 
word,  hath  added  hereunto  the  ratification  of  his  own 
solemn  oath  ;  that  by  two  immutable  things,  in  which  it  is 
impossible  for  God  to  lie,  there  might  be  strong  consola- 
tion to  the  heirs  of  promise,  Heb.  vi.  17,  18.  And  as  I 
have  said,  this  is  the  great  promise,  which  is  the  very  sum 
of  the  rest. 

7.  This  continual  vital  influence  is  ascertained  unto  the 
regenerate  by  their  union  with  Christ,  considered  in  con- 
junction with — his  being  constituted  and  appointed  a  Medi- 
ator between  God  and  them. — As  he  is  Mediator,  he  comes 
to  have  all  that  should  serve  the  necessities  of  their  souls 
lodged  in  his  hand,  and  particularly  to  be  the  great  treasury 
of  spirit  and  life  to  them,  and  for  them.  All  fulness,  even 
by  the  Father's  pleasure,  dwells  in  him.  But  it  may  be  said, 
what  is  it  to  them,  that  Christ  is  lull,  that  he  is  rich,  that 
he  lives,  and  that  there  is  a  fountain  and  treasury  of  life 
and  spirit  in  him  1  What !  is  it  nothing  to  theml  Why, 
consider  that  they  are  united  to  him,  one  with  him.  He 
that  is  joined  to  the  Lord  is  one  spirit,  1  Cor.  vi.  17.  And 
that  the  inwardness  of  this  union  might  be  with  more  life 
represented  to  us,  it  is  said  in  Eph.  v.  30.  We  are  mem- 
bers of  his  body,  of  his  flesh,  and  of  his  bones.  And  do 
we  think,  that  "when  such  rich  plenitude  of  spirit  and  in- 
fluence is  in  that  head,  he  will  not  difluse  it,  and  make  it 
flow  to  those  who  are  his  members  1  that  he  will  have  any 
members  to  be  cut  off"from  him  as  totally  dead  "? 

8.  This  matter  is  ascertained  from  the  consideration  of 
the  work  inchoate,  or  already  begun.  A  great  argument 
this,  that  the  issue  and  good  event  of  such  a  thing  will 
certainly  be  brought  to  pass,  even  with  wise,  and  prudent, 
and  considering  rfien.  For  there  is  no  such  man  that  doth 
begin  a  business  which  he  will  not  carry  through,  if  he  be 
able.  And  therefore  vrhh  the  blessed  God  the  argument 
is  most  strong.  He  hath  been  the  Author  of  this  life,  by 
his  Spirit,  unto  the  souls  that  he  hath  renewed  ;  and  there- 
fore surelv  he  will  continue,  and  carry  it  on,  and  bring  it 
to  the  mature  and  perfect  state  at  last  unto  which  he  hath 
designed  it.  See  how  the  apostle  argues  .in  Phil.  i.  6. 
Being  confident  (says  he)  ot  this  very  thing,  that  he  who 


536 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT 


Serm,  XI. 


hath  begun  a  good  work  will  perform  (or  finish)  it  until 
the  day  of  Jesus  Christ.  He  is  not  of  that  light  and  un- 
certain temper,  as  having  begun  such  an  undertaking  as 
this,  about  which  he  hath  expressed  so  much  concern,  and 
wherein  it  did  appear  his  heart  was  so  much  engaged,  to 
throw  it  off.  Indeed  the  lubricity  of  a  man's  spirit  makes 
him  ver}^  susceptible  of  such  a  thing  as  this,  to  begin  a 
design,  and  then  be  sick  of  it,  grow  weary,  neglect  it,  and 
throw  away  all  thoughts  and  concern  about  it,  and  divert 
to  somewhat  else:  but  it  is  most  repugnant  to  the  natural, 
essential  perfection  of  the  blessed  God  to  be  capable  of 
such  a  change.  He  will  not  forsake  his  people,  (as  Samuel 
speaks  to  the  mourning  Israelites  in  1  Sam.  xii.  22.)  be- 
cause it  hath  pleased  him  to  make  them  his  people. 
Though  he  sometimes  seems,  for  the  awakening  of  us  out 
of  our  security,  and  the  engaging  of  us  unto  that  care  and 
diligence  which  the  case  requires,  to  represent  himself,  as 
if  he  were  contesting  with  himself  about  this  matter, 
whether  he  should  continue  the  relation,  and  the  care  that 
belongs  to  it,  yea  or  no;  }'et  we  see  how  he  answers  him- 
self in  Jer.  iii.  19.  How  shall  I  put  thee  among  the  child- 
ren, (fee?  I  said,  "  Thoii  shalt  (yet)  call  me.  My  Father ; 
and  sh.alt  not  turn  away  from  me."  He  resolves  that  he 
would,  with  the  relation,  continue  in  them  an  instinct 
always  to  look  towards  him  as  their  Father.  "  Thou  shalt 
look  to  me  as  thy  Father,  and  shalt  not  turn  away  from 
me,  and  so  will  I  preserve  all  things  entire  between  thee 
and  me." 

These  considerations  taken  together  are  sufficient  to 
ascertain  to  a  regenerate  soul  that  maybe  solicitous  about 
the  state  of  its  own  case,  that  the  influence  shall  be 
continued,  which  is  necessary  for  the  continued  main- 
tenance of  that  life  whereof  the  Spirit  of  God  hath  been 
the  Author. 

The  use  that  we  shall  make  of  this  at  present  shall  only 
be  in  some  few  practical  inferences,  reserving  the  further 
use  till  after  we  have  considered  and  opened  the  other 
doctrine  from  the  latter  part  of  the  verse. 

We  have  already  (so  far  preventing  ourselves)  inferred, 

1.  That  there  is  such  a  life  as  that  which  we  are  wont 
to  call  the  life  spiritual,  distinct  from,  and  to  be  superadded 
to,  the  natural  life  of  men.  I  insisted  upon  this  before, 
and  therefore  do  but  mention  it  now. 

2.  We  may  further  infer,  that  this  life  is  of  a  most  ex- 
cellent and  noble  kind.  Of  this  we  are  taught  to  make  a 
judgment  by  the  way  of  its  being  maintained.  What  is  it 
maintained  upon  1  They  that  live  this  life,  live  in  the 
Spirit ;  certainly  this  is  a  very  high  way  of  living,  and 
speaks  the  life  that  is  to  be  maintained  so,  and  only  main- 
tainable so,  to  be  a  life  of  a  most  excellent  and  noble  kind. 
The  excellency  of  any  life  is  to  be  measured  and  judged 
by  the  objects  which  are  suitable  to  it,  and  nutritive  of  it, 
or,  out  of  which  it  has  its  sustenance  and  support.  They 
that  do  live  this  life,  as  they  do  so,  can  breathe  no  other 
but  this  pure  and  sacred  breath.  They  "  live  in  the  Spirit  " 
They  live  no  where  but  in  a  region  of  vitality,  filled  with 
vital  influence  even  by  the  eternal  Spirit.  This  is  to  live  at 
a  very  high  rate.  Think  therefore  how  excellent  a  life  that 
is  which  the  blessed  God  doth  distinguish  his  own  child- 
ren by  from  other  men. 

3.  Since  this  life  is  here  spoken  of  as  in  this  way  to  be 
continue  1 — we  learn,  that  it  must  certainly  at  some  time 
or  other  begin.  And  therefore  methinks  this  should  be  a 
rousing  and  awakening  thought  unto  those  who,  when  they 
hear  of  the  ways  and  methods  of  maintaining  and  improv- 
ing the  spiritual  life,  have  yet  cause  to  suspect  or  doubt, 
whether  as  yet  they  have  the  very  beginnings  of  it.  Me- 
thinks it  should  be  a  chilling  thought  unto  such  a  heart, 
"  How  much  do  I  hear  (may  such  a  one  say)  of  mighty 
things,  things  of  very  great  and  vast  importance,  which  are 
all  impertinencies  to  me,  they  signify  nothing,  nor  have 
any  suitableness  in  them  to  my  case!  How  great  things 
do  fall  beside  me  !"  So  it  must  be  with  every  one  that 
hath  not  yet  begun  to  live  this  life.  What !  not  yet  be?un  1 
Do  we  find  so  many  things  so  industriously  in.^erted'into 
the  Scripture,  to  instruct  and  direct  us  concerning  the  ways 
of  exercising,  maintaining,  and  improving  this  life,  and  I 
not  yet  feel  the  very  beginnings  of  it!  O  how  much  be- 
hind are  men  unto  the  whole  order  of  Christians,  of  those 
that  are  so  in  deed  and  in  truth,  and  may  deservedly  admit 


the  name  !  "  Some  are  gone  so  far,  and  I  am  yet  to  begin 
my  course!" 

4.  We  hence  see  how  great  a  perfection  is  lacking  unto 
unrenewed  souls  ;  how  great  a  perfection  properly  apper- 
taining unto  the  spirit  and  nature  of  a  man,  and  which 
ought  to  be  found  in  it  and  with  it.  Why,  there  is  a  whole 
state  of  life  yet  lacking  to  them.  A  dismal  thing  to  think 
of!  It  might  fill  a  man  with  astonishment  to  think  that 
he  should  be  so  far  short  of  what  a  man  ought  to  be,  be- 
cause he  is  not  yet  so  much  as  alive  towards  God.  You 
have  at  large  heard  what  that  life  is  by  which  we  are  said 
to  live  spiritually,  and  that  it  is  not  to  be  understood  in  a 
natural  but  in  a  moral  sense.  For  admit  that  the  spirit  of  a 
man  is  of  itself  naturally  and  essentially  a  self-acting  thing, 
yet  it  were  not  to  be  imagined  that  God  would  make  such 
a  creature,  and  turn  it  loose  into  this  world  to  act  at  ran- 
dom :  life  therefore  in  this  moral  sense  is  a  principle  of 
acting  regularly  and  duly  towards  God.  And  though  there 
be  the  natural  powers  and  faculties  that  belong  unto  the 
soul  of  a  man,  as  it  is  such  a  creature  in  such  a  place  and 
order  of  the  creation,  yet  while  they  are  destitute  of  that 
rectitude  by  which  they  are  inclined  to  God,  or  apt  to  act 
and  move  towards  him  by  rule  and  according  to  prescrip- 
tion, such  a  soul  may  as  truly  and  fitly  be  said  to  be  dead, 
or  those  powers  and  faculties  of  it  to  have  a  death  in  them, 
as  the  hand  of  a  man's  body,  supposing  it  to  retain  its 
natural  shape  and  figure,  but  to  be  altogether  useless  unto 
the  ends  and  purposes,  for  which  such  an  organ  was  made : 
if  it  be  raised  up,  it  falls  down  a  dead  weight ;  he  can't 
move  it  this  way,  or  that :  you'll  say,  this  is  a  dead 
thing;  yet  it  hath  its  shape  still. 

It  is  strange  to  see  how  far  some  have  gone  in  the  appre- 
hensions of  this  matter  by  merely  natural  light.  You  know 
we  spake  of  this  life  comprehending,  with  the  principles  of 
grace,  the  consolations,  and  pleasures,  and  joys  which  are 
apt  to  result  and  spring  from  thence.  Alone  to  have  such 
a  life,  is  not  enough  to  denominate  a  person  to  be  a  living 
person,  but  to  be  well;  to  be  healthful,  and  vigorous,  and 
strong.  I  remember  Socrates  I  find  to  speak  thus  (as  Xe- 
nophon  reports  of  him)  among  his  dying  discourses  con- 
cerning life  in  this  moral  sense,  "  Do  you  ask  (says  he) 
what  It  is  to  Mvel:  I'll  tell  you  what  it  is.  To  live  truly 
is  to  endeavour  to  excel  in  goodne'^'S ;  and  to  live  com- 
fortably, or  joyfully,  is  to  feel  oneself  to  do  so,  or  to  feel 
oneself  growing  better  and  better."  He  calls  those,  per- 
sons that  lived  pleasantly,  who  felt  themselves  improving 
in  respect  of  the  good  temper  of  their  .spirits.  And  I  re- 
member Philo-Judaeus  (though  he  had  opportunity  for 
much  more  light  than  the  other)  giving  the  notion  of  a 
man,  as  that  which  he  would  have  commonly  to  obtain, 
says,  that  "no  one  ought  to  be  reckoned  a  partaker  of  the 
rational  nature,  that  has  not  in  him  hope  towards  God." 
So  he  speaks  of  religion  ;  and  says  plainly,  that  "  he  who 
hath  this  hope  in  him,  he  only  is  to  be  called  a  man,  and 
that  the  other  is  to  be  looked  upon  as  no  man."  That  was 
his  notion.  We  may  so  far  comport  with  it  as  to  say,  that 
there  is  certainly  a  great  perfection  belonging  to  the  nature 
of  man,  xvanting  to  them  that  are  yet  not  come  to  live  this 
life.  And  it  is  amazing  to  think  that  such  a  perfection  is 
wanting  by  privation,  in  the  proper  sense,  and  not  by  nega- 
tion only.  As  how  dismal  a  thing  were  it,  should  we 
suppose  all  the  rational  powers  and  faculties  to  be  on  a 
sudden  cut  off  from  the  nature  of  a  man,  so  that  he  is  be- 
come a  mere  brute,  he  can't  think  a  thought,  every  thing 
of  reason  and  discourse  is  become  alien  to  him  !  And  if 
we  should  suppose  next  the  faculties  of  the  sensitive  nature 
to  be  cut  off,  and  he,  who  was  before  a  rational  man,  had 
the  power  of  reason  and  speech,  and  could  move  to  and 
fro  and  converse  as  a  man,  turned  into  a  tree;  life  he  has, 
but  no  better  life  than  that:  and  if  you  would  suppose 
that  life  gone  too,  and  he  at  last  turned  into  a  stone;  these 
were  most  dismal  degenerations.  It  is  no  disparagement 
at  all  to  what  was  orignally  a  brute,  to  be  a  brute,  or  to  a 
tree,  to  be  a  tree,  or  to  a  stone,  to  be  a  stone ;  for  it  has  all 
the  perfection  that  belongeth  to  such  a  creature,  or  to  the 
order  whereof  it  is  in  the  creation  of  God.  But  when  this 
life  is  lacking  to  the  soul  of  man,  there  is  a  perfection 
lacking  which  did  originally  belong  unto  this  order  of 
creatures.  For  what !  Do  you  think  that  ever  God  made 
man  to  disaffect  himself?  that  he  ever  made  a  reasonable 


Skbm.  XI. 


IN  REFERENCE  TO  PARTICULAR  PERSONS. 


creature  ihat  should  not  be  capable  of  loving  its  o'wti 
irigiiial,  and  the  supreme  good  I  And  whereas  we  find 
now  that  men  do  universally  make  themselves  the  centre 
of  their  own  loves,  do  we  think  that  ever  God  made  man 
to  do  so  ]  Why,  it  is  a  dreadful  transformalion  then,  that 
is  come  upon  the  nature  of  man,  and  a  most  amazing  de- 
generacy. It  would  staitle  us,  if  we  would  but  admit 
serious  thoughts  of  it,  that  there  should  be  an  entire  state 
of  life  so  generally  lacking  among  men.  And  especially, 
if  any  of  us  upon  reflection,  laying  our  hands  upon  our 
hearts,  do  feel  no  movings  of  such  a  life,  no  beatings  of  a 
pulse  God-ward  and  heaven-ward  that  may  bespeak  and 
be  an  indication  of  it.  To  think  that  I  have  such  a  thing 
lacking  in  me,  that  doth  belong  originally  unto  the  nature 
of  man;  not  so  light  and  trivial  a  thing  that,  if  I  had  it,  it 
would  add  some  kind  of  perfection  to  me  which  might 
conveniently  enough  be  spared ;  but  a  whole  orb  and 
order  is  lacking  to  me  which  belongs  to  such  a  creature 
as  I.  Certainly  it  should  put  such  a  person  mightily  out 
of  conceit  with  himself,  and  make  him  think,  "  What  a 
monster  am  I  in  the  creation  of  God !  I  am  no  way  suited 
to  the  order  of  cieatures  in  which  my  Creator  hath  set 
me ;  for  that  was  an  order  of  intelligent  creatures  all  formed 
to  the  loving,  adoring,  and  praising,  and  serving  the  great 
Author  of  their  beings,  with  open  eyes  beholding  and 
adoring  his  excellencies  and  glory:  and  I  have  no  dispo- 
sition thereto." 

5.  We  may  further  infer  how  great  a  misery  is  conse- 
quent, when  persons  have  not  begun  to  live  this  life  ;  there 
is  a  great  perfection  lacking  in  this  life  itself,  but  it  infers 
a  further  consequent  misery,  i.  e.  a  being  cut  oti'  from  all 
conversing  with  God,  a  kind  of  exile  out  of  that  region, 
which  is  within  the  management  of  the  Spirit,  the  region 
in  which  it  rules,  and  which  it  replenishes  with  life,  and 
with  vital  influence :  for  being  dead  towards  God  they  can 
have  no  converse  with  him.  If  a  person  be  dead,  3'ou  know 
what  is  usual,  "  Bury  my  dead  out  of  my  .sight."  They 
are  not  fit  to  come  into  God's  sight,  or  to  have  to  do  with 
him.  Would  we  like  it  well  to  converse  among  the  dead ; 
or  endure  to  have  carcasses  l.yiug  with  us  in  our  houses, 
and  in  our  beds,  and  to  be  found  at  our  tables?  Why, 
the  case  speaks  itself;  they  who  are  destitute  of  this  life, 
are  quite  cut  off  from  God,  and  from  all  his  converse  ; 
they  are  as  it  were  exiles  frctn  the  world  and  region  of 
spirit  and  spirituality.  O  the  strength  and  vigour,  the 
joys  and  pleasures,  the  purity  and  peace,  of  that  blessed 
region  !  But  these  are  excluded  by  their  want  of  this  life. 
The  Spirit  can  onl)^  statedly  converse  with  those  that  are 
alive.  It  steps  out  of  its  region  (the  case  were  otherwise 
sad  with  us)  to  make  men  alive,  and  to  draw  them  within 
the  circle,  as  it  were,  that  they  may  be  within  the  reach,  of 
its  continual  ordinary  converse.  But  they  are  in  no  way 
of  converse  with  the  Spirit,  as  yet,  that  have  not  the  prin- 
ciples of  this  life  as  yet  planted  in  them.  So  that  they  aie 
to  look  upon  themselves  as  cut  ofl'from  God,  and  as  those 
with  whom  his  Spirit  hath  no  converse  in  a  stated  way. 
What  it  may  do,  what  it  Avill  do  in  a  way  of  sovereign 
grace,  is  more  than  they  know ;  but  it  is  their  great  con- 
cern to  implore  it,  that  it  would  come  and  move  upon 
them,  and  attemper  to  the  region  of  life.  They  are  other- 
wise cut  off"  as  from  the  land  of  the  living,  and  have  no 
place  nor  fellowship  there. 

6.  Let  us  see  the  wonderful  grace  of  this  blessed  Spirit. 
Well  may  it  be  called  the  Spirit  of  grace :  Who  hath  done 
despite  unto  the  Spirit  of  grace,  Heb.  x.  29.  We  should 
frame  our  apprehensions  accordingly  of  this  blessed  Spirit, 
as  the  light  of  such  a  Scripture  would  dictate,  and  account 
it  the  Spirit  of  all  love,  and  goodness,  and  benignity,  and 
sweetness,  that  admits  such  souls  to  have  a  livelihood  in  it. 
"  If  ye  live  in  the  Spirit ;"  O  strange  goodness  this !    Such 

mpure  creatures,  so  lost  in  darkness  and  death,  now  brought 
within  those  blessed  confines !  That  the  Spirit  of  the 
living  God  should  have  taken  them  into  such  association 
with  itself !  q.  d.  "  Come,  you  shall  live  with  me :  here  is 
safe  living,  comfortable  living."  The  communion  which 
God  holds  with  such  souls  is  called  the  communion  of  the 
Holy  Ghost  in  2  Cor.  xiii.  14.  That  it  should  come  and 
.ead  souls  out  of  death  and  darkness  into  the  Divine  pre- 
sence, and  say  to  them,  "  Dwell  here,  in  the  secret  of  the 
Almighty,  and  under  the  shadow  of  his  wing.  His  feathers 


537 

shall  cover  you,  and  his  conrinual  influence  cherish  you 
and  maintain  your  life  :  here  you  .shall  spend  your  da3-s !" 
This  is  a  wonderful  vouchsafement.  How  should  we 
magnify  to  ourselves  the  grace  of  the  Spirit  upon  tiiis  ac- 
count !  And  yet  further, 

7.  We  see  the  great  hazard  of  withdrawing  ourselves 
from  under  the  tutelage  and  influence  of  this  Spirit.  It 
is  done  by  neglect,  done  by  self-confidence,  done  by  re- 
mitting our  dependance,  done  by  resistance,  by  our  dis- 
obedience, our  little  obsequiousness  to  the  Spirit :  and  you 
see  the  hazard  of  it.  Step  out  of  this  region  of  life,  and 
there  is  nothing  but  impure  and  desolate  darkness.  We 
languish  and  die,  if  we  retire,  or  recede  and  step  without 
these  sacred  boundaries.  To  be  confined  and  kept  within 
them,  how  great  a  vouchsafement  is  it!  and,  that  it  is 
undertaken  that  it  shall  be  so!  But  though  it  shall  be  so, 
we  are  not  to  expect  that  this  should  be  done  without  our 
care.  We  showed  you,  in  speaking  of  that  influence,  that 
it  is  an  assisting  and  co-operative  influence,  among  memy 
other  particulars. 

Lastly,  We  may  infer,  that  is  a  most  weighty  and  im- 
portant charge  that  lies  upon  everj'  renewed  soul.  For 
think,  how  precious  and  excellent  a  life  is  to  be  maintained 
in  them;  that  spiritual,  divine  life,  a  thing  which  both  re- 
quires and  justifies  their  utmost  care:  requires  it;  for 
what  would  a  person  think  of  it,  if  he  should  be  intrusted 
with  the  care  of  the  life  of  a  prince,  the  child  of  a  gif-rit 
monarch  1  If  any  of  us  had  such  a  charge  committed  to 
us,  "  I  charge  you  with  the  life  of  this  child,  and  to  u.-e 
your  best  care  and  endeavour  for  the  nourishing  of  its 
life,  and  for  the  cultivating  of  it,  and  fitting  it  to  the  be.st 
purposes  whereof  it  ma}'  be  capable."  How  would  this 
engage  one's  utmost  diligence,  that  it  is  a  ver}-  impor- 
tant lile  that  is  committed  to  my  care.  We  have  every  one 
of  us  the  care  incumbent  upon  us  of  the  life  of  a  divine 
thing  produced  and  brought  forth  in  us,  and  which  we 
are  to  apply  the  name  first  to,  when  we  call  ourselves  the 
sons  or  children  of  God.  There  the  name  falls  first:  it 
is  that  divine  thing  that  is  his  son,  and  we  are  onh'  his 
sons  or  children  upon  the  account  of  that.  To  have  a 
divine  life  to  maintain  and  cherish  in  my  soul,  as  I  may 
have  a  subordinate  agency,  under  the  Spirit,  in  order 
thereto,  how  should  it  engage  my  utmost  solicitude  and 
care,  that  nothing  be  done  oflensive  to  this  life,  that  every 
thing  be  done  that  may  tend  to  preserve  and  improve  it ! 

And  as  it  requires  our  care,  so  it  final!}'  justifies  it.  A 
great  many  are  apt  to  think,  yea,  and  do  often  speak,  re- 
proachfully concerning  those  who  do  any  thing  to  dis- 
cover and  hold  forth  the  power  and  efficacy  of  such  an  in- 
being  life  in  them.  To  what  purpose  do  these  persons 
take  so  much  more  care  than  other  men  about  their  souls, 
and  about  their  spiritual  state,  as  they  are  wont  to  call  it  1 
Why,  they  have  a  life  more  than  you  to  be  solicitous 
about;  a  life  that  you  know  nothing  of;  a  noble,  a  divine 
life,  which  is  incumbent  upon  them  to  care  for.  They 
wonder  that  this  race  of  men  don't  run  with  them  into 
the  same  excess  of  riot,  M-hen  they  never  con.sider  these 
are  things  that  would  be  noxious  to  my  life.  It  may  be 
you  find  nothing  in  you,  unto  ■«  hich  such  things  would 
be  an  offence  :  they  would  hurt  my  very  life.  This  hath 
the  holy  soul  to  say  to  justify  all  that  care  and  concern 
which  he  hath  about  the  maintaining  and  preserving  his 
spiritual  life.  And  would  not  he  be  thought  to  talk  very 
unrea-sonably  that  should  say;  Why  should  such  and 
such  men,  who  are  observed  to  he  much  addicted  to  study, 
and  retirement,  and  contemplation,  w!iy  should  they  inure 
themselves  to  more  thoughts  than  the  beasts  do  1  They, 
who  apply  themselves  to  a  course  of  praying,  meditation, 
&c.  why  should  they  do  so  more  than  the  beasts,  who,  say 
they,  do  but  eat  and  drink,  and  what  is  given  them  that 
they  gather,  and  no  more  ado  1  The  answer  would  he 
obvious  from  such  persons;  "  I  have  a  thing  called  rea- 
son in  me,  which  I  am  to  cultivate,  and  improve,  and 
make  my  best  of,  which  beasts  have  not."  And  is  not 
that  a  sulficient  answer;  "  I  have  a  life  more  in  me  thaa 
other  men  have,  which  I  am  to  tend,  and  take  all  possible 
care  of;  a  life  capable  of  great  improvements,  a  life  of 
great  hopes,  a  life  put  into  me  upon  high  accounts,  and 
for  the  greatest  and  mo.st  noble  designs."  And  therefore 
if  any  of  us  be  tempted  by  the  licentious  persons  of  the 


533 


THE  WORK  OP  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT 


Serm.  XII. 


age  to  run  their  course,  and  do  as  they  do,  pray  let  us 
learn  to  distinguish  our  cases.  The  matter  is  not  with  us 
as  it  is  with  them.  We  have  somewhat  else  in  us ;  a 
divine  thing,  which  hath  a  sacred  life  belonging  to  it,  im- 
planted in  our  natures ;  which  hath  given  us  hope,  and 
which  is  in  us  the  earnest  and  pledge,  of  a  blessed  eternity, 
an  immortal  state  of  life.  And  what !  shall  we  be  prodi- 
gal of  this  1  Is  this  a  thing  to  be  exposed,  and  ventured, 
and  thrown  away,  merely  to  comply  with  the  humour  of 
a  sensual  wretch,  who  knows  nothing  of  the  matter,  and 
is  a  stranger  to  all  such  affairs  1 


SERMON  XIL* 

Yo0  have  heard  of  a  twofold  work  of  the  Holy  Spirit 
upon  such  souls  as  it  hath  regenerated,  or  put  a  principle 
of  spiritual  life  into;  viz. — the  maintaining  of  that  life, 
which  is  mentioned  in  the  former  part  of  this  verse,  "  If 
we  live  in  the  Spirit ;"  and — the  causing,  and  conducting, 
and  governing  the  motions  which  are  agreeable  to  that  life, 
in  the  latter  part,  "  Let  us  also  walk  in  the  Spirit." — We 
have  spoken  of  the  former  of  these,  and  are  now  to  pro- 
ceed uato  the  latter,  that  is,  to  treat  of  that  part  or  hand 
which  the  Holy  Spirit  hath  about  the  motions  and  actions 
of  renewed  souls;  and  those  must  be  considered  in  a  re- 
ference unto  that  life  unto  which  they  are  connatural,  as 
you  see  they  are  mentioned  in  that  reference  in  the  text, 
"  If  we  live  in  the  Spirit,  let  us  also  walk  in  the  Spirit." 
Therelore  the  latter  truth  which  we  have  to  note  to  you 
from  this  Scripture  you  may  take  thus  ; — That  it  belongs 
to  their  state,  who  live  in  the  Spirit,  to  walk  also  in  the 
Spirit. — In  speaking  to  which  we  shall, 

I.  Show,  what  it  is  to  walk  in  the  spirit. 

II.  How  it  belongs  unto  the  state  of  such  persons  so  to 
walk. 

I.  What  walking  in  the  Spirit  imports.  This  we  may 
understand  by  inquiring  severally  into,  and  then  joining 
together,  these  two  notions;  i.  e.  what  walking  doth  im- 
port; and  then, — what  it  imports  to  do  anything  in  the 
Spirit. — These  being  explained  and  put  together,  will  give 
us  the  full  and  true  import  of  walking  in  the  Spirit. 

Walking  in  the  general,  you  know,  is  an  expression  that 
signifies  action  or  motion ;  and  sometimes  it  is  taken  in 
a  natural  sense,  and  then  you  know  what,  it  signifies; 
sometimes  it  is  taken  in  a  moral  sense,  a  sense  borrowed 
from  the  natural,  because  of  some  analogy  and  agreement 
between  the  one  and  the  other ;  and  then  it  plainly  signi- 
fies the  course  of  a  man's  conversation.  So  it  must  neces- 
sarily be  understood  to  signify  here,  according  to  the 
transumed  or  borrowed  sense.  And  nothing  is  more  ordi- 
nary in  Scripture  than  to  express  the  course  of  a  man's 
conversation,  whether  it  be  good  or  whether  it  be  bad,  by 
the  phrase  of  walking;  as  you  can't  but  have  taken  no- 
tice, such  of  you  as  have  been  conversant  with  the  Scrip- 
tures, how  often  it  is  said  concerning  the  kings  of  Israel 
and  Judah,  that  they  walked  so  and  so  ;  such  and  such  a 
one  in  the  way  of  his  fathers,  and  the  like :  where  the 
series  of  his  actions,  morally  considered,  is  most  expressly 
intended  to  be  signified. 

But  that  we  may  speak  more  distinctly  unto  the  notion 
of  walking,  because  it  will  give  much  light  unto  the  mat- 
ter which  we  have  before  us;  as,  in  general,  walking  doth 
signifv  action  or  motion,  so  it  also  carries  with  it  some 
specification  of  that  action  or  motion,  and  so  doth  import 
action  or  motion  of  some  special  kind.  For,  though  all 
walking  is  motion,  yet  all  motion  is  not  walking;  and 
therefore  it  is  an  expression  that  serves  to  be  some  way 
restrictive  of  the  general  notion  of  action  or  motion.  And 
that  we  may  speak  more  clearly  hereunto,  we  must  take 
notice  of  something  that  walking  doth  expressly  denote,  or 
that  is  more  formally  included  in  the  notion  of  it ;  and 
somewhat  that  it  doth  connote  or  import  of  a  kind  of  col- 
lateral signification  thereof. 

1.  There  are  some  things  which  walking  doth  more 
directly  and  formally  denote.     As, 

»  Preached  March  6th,  1678,  at  Cordwainer's  Hall. 


1.  It  denotes  a  self-motion.  A  motion  which  proceeds 
from  an  internal  principle  in  the  thing  that  moves ;  though 
not  originally  ;  for  that  cannot  be  supposed  concerning  it 
in  a  creature,  but  subordinately  only.  If  one  rolls  a  stone 
to  and  fro  upon  the  ground,  it  would  be  very  improper  to 
say,  that  stone  walks.  It  signifies  motion  from  an  internal 
principle,  a  kind  of  self-motion. 

2.  It  doth  most  properly  signify  a  voluntary  motion. 
There  may  be  motion  from  an  internal  principle,  which  is 
not  voluntary,  as  there  are  many  things  that  have  a  prin- 
ciple of  motion  in  themselves,  which  have  not  the  power 
of  will ;  which  belongs  only  unto  intellectual  agents,  unto 
free  creatures.  Now  if  a  man  be  dragged  this  way  or  that, 
he  is  not  said  to  walk,  though  he  make  use  of  his  own 
motive  power  too. 

3.  It  imports  an  orderly  motion.  For  he  is  not  said  to 
walk  who  only  wildly  skips  and  fetches  freaks  this  way 
and  that.  And  that  signification  is  especially  carried  that 
is  used  for  walking  here,  s-oixi('>;  a  word  from  whence 
that  word  s-"|  comes,  which  signifies  military  order,  the  or- 
derly motion  of  any  army  in  rank  and  file :  so  the  word  is 
noted  to  signify.  Yea,  and  from  the  same  word  comes 
a  word  that  signifies  the  order  which  is  observed  in 
verse,  when  the  composition  is  most  exact  and  accurate, 
of  so  many  feet,  or  making  up  such  or  such  a  form  of 
metre;  ii^ix"^-  A  metrical  kind  of  order  is  signified  by 
this  word ;  so  as  that  one's  motions  are  measured  by  a 
strict  kind  of  rule  all  along. 

4.  It  imports  a  pleasurable  motion.  For  you  know  we 
are  wont  to  walk  for  our  recreation.  If  persons  go  a  jour- 
ney, or  the  like,  that  is  toilsome,  we  express  that  more 
usually  by  another  word,  travelling;  but  if  a  person  be 
gone  forth  to  exercise  himself  in  order  to  his  recreation 
and  health,  then  we  usually  say,  he  is  gone  a  walking. 

5.  It  is  a  continued  motion.  For  he  that  fetches  a  skip 
and  jump  now  and  then,  this  way  and  that,  is  not  said  to 
walk ;  but  walking  is  a  course  of  motion  continued  for 
such  a  time. 

6.  It  is  a  progressive  motion.  There  may  be  continued 
motion  which  is  not  progressive.  One  may  continue  mov- 
ing to  and  fro,  in  the  same  place,  for  a  long  time  together: 
but  walking  is  a  going  forward.  These  things  (as  is  obvi- 
ous unto  a  common  understanding)  are  carried  in  the  no- 
tion of  walking  most  expressly,  and  so  it  may  be  said  to 
denote  these  things  more  formally.     But, 

2.  There  are  also  some  things  which  it  doth  connote. 
And  they  are  especially  these  two,  viz. — (1.)  an  end, 
and — (2.)  a  way.  It  connotes  an  end ;  for  walking  is  a 
tendency  some  whither,  or  unto  some  term.  And  it  con- 
notes a  way  ;  for  a  man  can't  walk,  but  it  must  be  in  some 
way  or  other,  whether  it  be  better  or  worse. 

These  things  are  considerable  concerning  the  notion  of 
walking.  And  as  walking  doth  import  a  specification  of 
motion,  or  is  a  more  special  kind  of  motion  ;  so  the  addi- 
tion of  "in  the  Spirit"  plainly  imports  a  specification  of 
walking,  so  as  to  denote  a  more  special  sort  and  kind  of 
walking. 

We  shall  consider,  more  at  large,  what  it  is  to  do  any 
thing  in  the  Spirit,  before  we  come  to  sum  up  all  in  join- 
ing these  notions  together.  To  do  any  thing  in  the 
Spirit,  is  to  do  it  in  the  light,  and  in  the  power  of  the 
Spirit. 

1.  In  the  light  of  the  Spirit.  For  whenever  it  comes  to 
deal  with  the  spirits  of  men,  it  is  in  that  way,  by  creating 
a  light  to  them,  which  is  directive  of  their  motions.  Let 
us  walk  in  the  light  of  the  Lord,  Isa.  ii.  5.  that  is  walking 
in  the  Spirit.  To  do  any  thing  in  the  Spirit,  is  to  do  it  in 
the  light,  not  blindly  and  darkly,  as  those  that  Know  not 
what  they  do. 

2.  In  the  power  of  the  Spirit.  I  will  go  in  the  strength 
of  the  Lord  God,  I  will  make  mention  of  thy  righteous- 
ness, even  of  thine  only,  Ps.  Ixxi.  16. 

These  things  thus  laid  before  you  will  make  it  plain  to 
us  what  is  carried  "  in  walking  in  the  Spirit."  We  are  to 
put  together  the  notions  of  walking,  and  doing  any  thing 
in  the  Spirit.  And  an  account  of  the  result  and  sum  of 
what  has  been  said  may  be  given  you  in  these  several  par- 
ticulars. 

1.  To  walk  in  the  Spirit  is  to  intend  and  tend  towards 


Serm.  XII. 


IN  REFERENCE  TO  PARTICULAR  PERSONS. 


an  end  which  is  suitable  to  the  Spirit.  It  is  most  propei 
to  beirin  there;  and  that  is,  in  short,  walking  in  the  Spirit 
imports  a  continual  tendency  towards  God,  as  the  great 
end  and  mark  at  which  one  aims.  And  this  is  an  end 
agreeable  to  the  Spirit;  and  this,  and  no  other,  as  the  last 
and  ultimate  end.  The  soul  that  is  acted  by  the  Spirit  of 
God  is  acted  towards  God.  Do  but  observe  how  these 
things  are  connected  in  that  passage,  Ps.  Ixiii.  8.  My  soul 
followeth  hard  after  thee.  How  comes  it  to  do  so "?  Thy 
right  hand  holds  me  up.  And  what  is  that  right  hand  ? 
Why,  it  can  signify  nothing  else  but  the  power  of  God, 
that  is,  his  Spirit,  which  we  are  taught  to  look  upon  asthe 
great  active  principle  of  all  the  motions  and  operations  of 
the  creatures,  whereof  it  can  be  said  to  be  directly  deter- 
minative. Then  we  may  conclude  that  a  person  is  acted 
by  the  Spirit,  or  walks  in  the  Spirit,  when  he  aims  at  God 
through  his  whole  course.  While  men  are  imder  the  power 
and  rule  of  another,  that  is,  a  fleshly  and  corrupt  principle, 
it  is  all  for  self  that  their  designs  lie,  and  the  course  ol' 
their  actions  run;  they  are  confined  wholly  (as  hath  been 
said  upon  an  occasion)  within  a  circle  of  acting  from  self 
to  self:  but  when  once  the  Spirit  of  God  comes  to  have 
the  government  and  the  motions  of  the  soul,  as  all  those 
motions  do  immediately  spring  tiom  God,  so  they  tend  to 
him,  and  centre  in  him.  The  soul  designs  him,  and  none 
but  him,  in  its  whole  course.  An-d  therefore,  it  being  the 
great  work  of  the  Redeemer  to  reduce  and  bring  back 
souls  to  God,  what  part  or  hand  the  Spirit  of  God  hath  in 
this  matter,  is  in  pursuance  of  the  Redeemer's  design. 
Therefore  we  are  said  to  "have  access,  or  come  to  God 
through  him  by  the  Spirit ;"  this  is  the  comn.-jn  course 
stated  for  all  men  ;  for  Jew  and  Gentile  both,  for  with  such 
reference  it  is  said.  Through  him  we  both  have  an  access 
by  one  Spirit  unto  the  Father,  (Kph.  ii.  18.)  implying  that 
none  would  ever  come  at  God,  aim  at  God,  or  tend  towards 
him,  but  as,  by  the  motive  power,  and  in  the  directive 
light  of  the  blessed  Spirit,  they  are  acted  and  carried 
towards  him  through  Christ. 

2.  Walking  in  the  Spirit  implies  a  cons'ant  adherence 
unto  Christ  by  dependence  and  subjection.  Which  it 
must  needs  do  upon  the  account  that  all  walking,  as  I  have 
said,  connotes  a  way,  and  Christ  is  expressl}'  represented 
to  us  as  the  way  leading  unto  Goil.  I  am  the  way ;  no 
man  cometh  unto  the  Father  but  by  me,  John  xi  v.  6.  And 
hence,  as  we  have  this  phrase  of  "  walking  in  the  Spirit," 
so  we  have  that  too  of  walking  in  Christ,  Col.  ii.  6.  And 
the  apostle  Peter  directs  such  a  course  of  walking  as  might 
put  them  to  .shame  who  should  falsely  accuse  their  good 
conversation  in  Christ,  I  Pet.  iii.  16.  And  certainly  it  is 
one  great  part  of  the  work  of  the  Holy  Ghost  upon  the 
spirits  of  men,  so  as  to  attemper  and  frame  them  unto  the 
way  of  access  to  God,  or  the  way  wherein  God  can  he 
come  at,  that  it  may  become  even  spiritually  natural  unto 
the  soul  to  walk  in  that  way.  While  they  walk  in  Christ, 
they  walk  in  the  Spirit.  It  is  the  business  of  the  Spirit  to 
engage  the  soul  in  this  wa\' of  tending  and  moving  towards 
God.  and  to  keep  it  on  therein. 

3.  It  imports  walking  in  the  divine  light,  whereof  the 
Spirit  is  the  continual  Author  unto  renewed  souls.  And  I 
do  not  now  mean  only  that  external  light  which  it  affords 
by  the  Scripture  revelation,  but  an  inward  vital  light  which 
it  sets  up  and  continues  in  the  soul  itself,  having  caused 
"  a  day-spring,  a  day-star  to  arise  there,  and  made  a  day 
within."  The  Spirit  creates  unto  the  soul  a  region  of  light, 
wherein  it  converses,  while  it  is  said  to  converse  in  the 
Spirit.  They  unto  whom  it  hath  not  created  such  a  light, 
are  said  "  to  walk  in  darkness;"  and  whatsoever  there  is 
of  external  light  shining  round  about  them,  their  darkness 
comprehends  it  not,  as  in  John  i.  5.  But  where  this  bless- 
ed Spirit  is,  it  makes  those  that  were  darkness  to  be  light 
in  the  Lord.  "  Ye  were  sometimes  darkness,  but  now  are 
}-e  light  in  the  Lord."  Well,  and  what  then?  Walk  as 
children  of  the  light;  Eph.  v.  8.  'Tis  true  that  light  doth 
here,  as  well  as  elsewhere^  signify  holiness,  but  not  with- 
out reference  unto  intellectual  light ;  only  it  imports  that 
intellectual  light  to  be  a  practical,  refining,  transforming, 
vital  light,  so  as  that  the  same  thing  is  capable  of  a  two- 
fold denomination,  of  light,  and  of  life  too  ;  as  St.  John, 
speaking  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  the  Sun  of  righteous- 
ness, speaks  of  him  as  under  the  notion  of  life,  and  saith, 


539 

that  life  was  the  light  of  men,  John  i.  4.  It  is  therefore  a 
region  of  living  light  which  the  Spirit  doth  create  unto 
souls,  in  which  they  converse  and  walk :  then  are  they  said 
to  walk  in  the  Spirit,  by  that  woik  and  ofiice  ol  the"  Holy 
Ghost,  which  our  Saviour  calls  "  its  leading  persons  into 
all  truth."  He  promises  in  those  consolatory,  valedictory 
discourses  of  his  to  his  disciples,  (in  xiv.  xv.  and  xvi.  chap- 
ters of  John's  Gospel,)  again  and  again  the  Spirit,  and  for 
this  purpose,  "  to  lead  them  into  truth  ;"  that  you  know,  is 
the  part  of  directive  light.  But  then  it  is  one  thing  to  di- 
rect only  by  telling,  so  and  so  you  must  do  ;  and  anoiher 
thing  by  way  of  instinct,  or  by  an  inward  promjiiing:  by 
which  too  a  person  does  not  go  in  that  case  blindfold,  but 
with  an  inclination,  with  .spontaneity,  and  seeing  his  way 
all  the  way  he  goes.  He  walks  in  the  light;  and  such  a 
light  a-s  is  directive  and  active  to  him  at  once. 

4.  It  imports  acting  by  a  divine  power  all  along  through 
our  whole  course.  The  Spirit,  where  it  is,  is  the  Spirit  of 
power,  of  love,  and  of  a  sound  mind,  2  Tim.  i.  7.  They 
are  said  to  be  in  the  Spirit,  who  are  under  the  power  and 
dominion  of  it,  as  John  says  of  himself,  that  he  was  in  the 
Spirit  on  the  Lord's  day,  in  Rev.  i.  10.  Under  the  inllu- 
ence  of  its  Almighty  power,  its  captivating  dominion. 
According  as  when  persons  are  said  to  be  in  the  flesh,  (an 
expression  frequently  used  in  Scripture,)  it  notes  their  le- 
ing  under  the  power  and  dominion  of  a  fleshly  principle. 
So  to  walk  in  the  Spirit,  is  to  aet  on  all  akmg  under  the 
power  and  governing  influence  of  the  Spirit.  I  will 
strengthen  them  in  the  Lord,  and  they  .shall  walk  up  and 
down  in  his  name,  Zech.  x.  12.  That  one  attiibute  be- 
longing to  the  Divine  nature,  viz.  the  power  of  Gcd,  is 
more  especially  pointed  at  there. 

There  is  a  strict  connexion  between  this  and  the  last 
mentioned  thing,  that  light  and  this  power;  that  light 
being  a  vital,  a  living  thing.  Though  we  may  have  dis- 
tinct notions  of  them,  3-et  they  are  in  themselves"  connected 
and  most  inseparable.  Come  ye,  let  us  walk  in  the  light 
of  the  Lord,  Isa.  ii.  5.  Even  in  the  form  of  expression, 
though  light  is  the  thing  which  is  directly  spoken  of,  there 
is  implied  and  involved  therewith  a  certain  active  power, 
the  being  moved  to  go  and  \va\k  in  that  light,  which,  as 
such,  was  to  guide  them  in  their  way.  See  what  is  referred 
to  in  ver.  3.  He  will  teach  us  of  his  ways,  and  we  will 
walk  in  his  paths.  This  signifies  that  their  spirits  were 
acted  by  a  certain  power  which  did  incline  them  unto  this 
thing;  and  not  that  they  were  merely  enlightened.  And 
whereas  in  this  vsry  chapter,  the  expression,  "led  by  the 
Spirit,"  is  made  use  of  in  ver.  18.  "  If  ye  be  led  by  the 
Spirit,  ye  are  not  under  the  law  ;"  as  also  in  Rom.  vii'i.  14. 
As  many  as  are  led  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  they  are  the  sons 
of  God;  the  word  which  is  rendered  led  is  liymrai,  and 
signifies  acted  or  moved  by  a  certain  power.  As  many  as 
are  acted  by  the  Spirit  of  God  ;  and  they  tliat  are  acted  by 
the  Spirit  of  God  are  not  under  the  law,  they  are  not  cursei 
and  condemned  by  it. 

5.  It  imports  acting  from  spiritual  habitual  principles 
that  are  fixed  and  settled  in  the  soul ;  and  therefore  in- 
cludes in  it  the  exercise  of  all  the  several  graces  of  the 
Spirit.  For  you  must  know  that  when  we  say,  walking  in 
the  Spirit  implies  walking  in  the  Divine  light,  and  by  the 
Divine  power ;  it  is  not  to  be  understood  as  if  there  were 
nothing  else  but  a  temporary,  present  ray  of  light,  and 
effort  of  power  from  the  Spirit ;  and  so  that  there  comes 
to  be  any  thing  habitually  fixed  in  the  soul  itself  But 
though  it  is  very  true  indeed  that  habitual  light,  &c.  in  the 
soul  from  the  Spirit  must  be  maintained  and  continued  by 
the  Spirit,  it  is  nevertheless  to  be  looked  upon  as  an 
habitual  principle  which  is  in  the  soul  itself.  And  the 
case  is  here  but  as  it  is  in  nature  ;  for  there  can  be  no  sort 
of  life  in  all  the  creation,  whereof  God  is  not  the  Author; 
nor  any  action  done,  but  the  power  of  doing  it  is  received 
from  him  ;  though  there  are  many  actions  which  he  doth 
not  make  creatures  do,  yet  there  is  no  action  in  which  he 
does  not  enable,  or  not  give  them  sufficient  power.  But 
yet  notwiihstand/ng  this,  we  know  that  the  natures  of 
creatures  are  distinct  from  one  another;  and  to  say,  that 
the  Divine  power  must  do  all,  is  to  take  away  the  distinc- 
tion of  nature-  wholly,  and  then  a  stone. might  reason  as 
well  as  a  man,  and  a  tree  might  walk  to  and  fro  as  well  as 
a  sensitive  living  creature  :  but  God's  way  of  dealing  with 


540 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SriRIT 


Serm.  XIII. 


creatures  in  the  natural  creation,  ordinarily,  is  to  act  them 
according  to,  and  co-work  with  that  peculiar  nature  which 
he  haih  put  into  this,  and  that,  and  the  other  creature.  So 
it  is  here  :  there  is  a  divine  nature,  consisting  of  many- 
gracious,  holy,  vital  principles  which  God  puts  into  the 
soul  when  he  renews  it;  and  which  are  so  many  several 
parts  of  the  new  creature,  and  with  these  several  principles 
or  with  this  divine  nature,  he  concurs  or  co-works  ;  though 
the  exigency  of  the  case  is  such,  there  being  a  corrupt 
nature  joined  therewith  in  the  same  subject,  that  here  he 
must  continually  over-power  unto  every  action  that  is 
done  :  and  it  is  not  enough  to  give,  or  maintain,  the  prin- 
ciple, but  he  must  work  the  very  act  itself,  because  of  a 
reluctant  principle,  which  would  otherwise  strangle  the 
act,  and  never  let  it  be  brought  forth  at  all.  But  then  we 
must  not  suppose  that  the  power  by  which  the  work  is 
done,  is  a  thing  only  at  this  time  given,  and  that  there  is 
no  principle  in  the  soul  itself  which  it  acts  from  ;  for  there 
is  a  principle  implanted  and  fixed  in  the  soul,  and  though 
that  requires  to  be  acted,  it  is  the  way  and  method  of  the 
Spirit  to  act  in  and  by  that  principle,  or  put  that  principle 
upon  action.  So  that  walking  in  the  Spirit  is  walking  in 
the  exercise  of  the  implanted  principles  of  grace,  and  not 
without  them,  or  not  having  any  such  work  wrought  or 
done  in  us;  as  if  a  person  should  be  habitually  inclined 
one  way,  and  yet  act  another  ;  believe,  without  a  principle 
of  faith  ;  or  love  God,  without  a  principle  of  love ;  or  fear, 
without  a  principle  of  fear ;  by  having  these  actions  erected 
in  him  by  the  Spirit,  without  the  habits  from  whence  they 
are  to  proceed,  and  to  which  they  are  connatural.  This 
is  not  to  be  supposed.  And  therefore  whensoever  any 
walk  in  the  actual  exercise  of  grace,  they  walk  in  the 
Spirit.  And  it  is  very  observable  to  this  purpose  that  you 
have  several  fruits  of  the  Spirit,  or  gracious  principles, 
ennumerated  immediately  before  the  text,  ver.  22,  23.  You 
are  there  told  what  the  fruits  of  the  Spirit  are;  or  what 
the  principles  are  which  the  Spirit  is  the  productive  cause 
of;  and  then  it  is  afterwards  subjoined,  "  If  we  live  in 
the  Spirit,"  or  have  all  these  principles,  "let  us  also  walk 
in  the  Spirit,"  i.  e.  in  acting  and  exercising  these  princi- 
ples. Hence  therefore  we  read  ofw^alkingby  faith,  (2  Cor. 
v.  7.)  and  walking  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord,  (Acts  ix.  31,) 
and  walking  with  God,  (Mic.  vi.  8.)  and  of  walking  in  love, 
Eph.  V.  2.  To  walk  in  the  exercise  of  these  several  graces 
of  the  Spirit,  is  walking  in  the  Spirit. 

6.  It  implies  walking  in  the  wa}''  of  the  Lord  with  free- 
dom of  choice,  and  from  a  spontaneous  inclination  ;  from 
both  the  notion  of  walking,  which  is  voluntary,  and  the 
addition,  in  the  Spirit,  which  is  the  great  Author  of  all 
liberty  wheresoever  it  is;  Where  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  is 
there  is  liberty,  2  Cor.  iii.  17.  A  person  is  not  the  less, 
but  the  more,  free  by  being  impelled  and  moved  by  the 
Spirit ;  for  it  is  the  Spirit  that  makes  him  free  and  enlarges 
him :  I  will  walk  at  liberty,  says  the  Psalmist,  for  I  keep 
thy  precepts.  Psalm  cxix.  45.  And,  I  w'ill  run  the  ways 
of  thy  coinmandments  when  thou  shalt  enlarge  my  heart, 
ver.  32. 

7.  It  implies  a  continued  reference  to  a  rule.  To  walk 
in  the  Spirit  is  not  to  walk  extravagantly,  as  those  that 
know  no  measures  or  limits  in  their  walking,  and  are  as 
the  wiH  ass  used  to  the  wilderness,  Jer.  ii.  24.  It  is  op- 
posed to  walking  after  lust,  or  the  inclinations  of  corrupt 
nature,  which  you  know  is  the  only  principle  of  all  ex- 
travagancy. This  I  say,  says  the  apostle  in  the  16th  verse 
of  this  chapter,  "  Walk  in  the  Spirit,  and  ye  shall  not 
fulfi.1  the  lusts  of  the  flesh."  The  apostolical  authority  and 
majesty,  which  is  imported  in  that  solemn  preface,  is  of 
very  great  remark  and  note.  This  I  say,  this  I  determine, 
this  is  one  of  the  sacred  effata  and  dictates  which  I  pro- 
nounce to  you  i.n  the  name  of  the  great  God  and  Redeemer, 
whose  office  and  authority  I  bear  ;  "  This  I  say.  Walk  in 
the  Spirit,  and  ye  shall  not  fulfil  the  lusts  of"  the  flesh." 
That  Spirit  will  be  a  principle  of  holy  order  and  regularity 
to  you  in  all  your  walking:  so  the  great  promise  of  it  im- 
plies, in  Ezek.  xxxvi.  27.  I  will  put  my  Spirit  within  you, 
and  cause  you  to  walk  in  my  statutes.  You  shall  then  be 
willing  to  walk  in  a  prescribed  way,  the  way  that  I  line 
and  rule  out  unto  you  all  along. 

8.  It  implies  a  complacential  course  of  walking  on  in 

•  Preached  March  13th,  1678,  at  Cordwainer's  Hall. 


religion.  Walking  in  the  Spirit  is  walking  cheerfully ;  it 
belongs  to  it,  it  is  comprehended  within  the  compass  of  it. 
Whenever  any  have  the  Spirit,  this  lies  within  their  walk ; 
it  is  part  of  that  spiritual  walk  to  be  conversant,  amidst 
consolations  and  joys  and  pleasures,  and  it  is  part  of  the 
signification  of  that  expression,  "  Come,  let  us  walk  in  the 
light  of  the  Lord."  Light  doth  many  times  signif)' (be- 
sides knowledge,  and  holiness)  joy,  delight,  pleasure. 
Walking  is  a  motion  frr  recreation,  as  you  have  heard ; 
spiritual  walking  is  a  motion,  if  it  be  entirely  in  itself, 
amidst  spiritual  joys  and  comforts.  The  churches  walk- 
ing in  the  fear  of  the  Lord,  and  in  the  comfort  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  were  multiplied,  in  the  before-mentioned  Acts  ix. 
31.  That  sure  was  walking  in  the  Spirit.  'Tis  suitable 
to  the  way  in  which  Christians  are  to  walk,  which  is 
throughout  in  every  part  of  it,  a  way  of  pleasantness,  and 
a  path  of  peace,  Prov.  iii.  17.  It  is  the  Spirit  that  causes 
holy  ones  to  walk  in  this  way,  and  then  sure  it  works  in 
them  a  disposition  suitable  to  the  way.  And  if  the  May 
is  pleasant,  and  the  heart  is  suitably  disposed  thereunto,  it 
cannot  but  be  pleasant  walking,  so  far  as  that  disposition 
is  in  that  pleasant  way. 

9.  It  is  a  continuing  in  the  course  and  practice  of  reli- 
gion. For  walking  is  a  continued  motion  :  and  therefore 
they  that  are  said  to  walk  in  the  Spirit,  don't  begin  in  the 
Spirit,  and  then  think  to  be  made  perfect  by  the  flesh,  (as 
the  expression  is  in  Gal.  iii.  3.)  but  they  continue  in  a 
course  of  spiritual  motion. 

10.  Lastly,  It  imports  a  progress  in  spirituality.  As  was 
said  before,  there  may  he  a  continued  motion  that  is  not 
progressive  ;  but  walking  in  the  Spirit  imports  a  progres- 
sive motion  in  a  course  of  spirituality.  When  persons 
make  still  nearer  and  nearer  approaches  unto  their  end, 
the  term  of  their  course;  draw  nearer  and  nearer  to  God, 
and  as  they  draw  nearer  to  him,  find  a  gradual  influence 
of  divine  light,  and  life,  and  power,  more  discernible  im- 
pressions of  the  Divine  image,  grow  more  and  more  into  a 
suitableness  to  him;  are  more  acquainted  Avith  him,  are 
brought  unto  higher  delectation,  and  to  take  more  com- 
placenc}''  in  him:  this  is  walking  in  the  Spirit;  when  a 
man's  path,  as  it  is  said  concerning  the  righteous  man,  is 
as  the  shining  light,  that  shines  more  and  more,  brighter 
and  brighter,  unto  the  perfect  day,  Prov.  iv.  18.  As  you 
know  the  nearer  approach  we  make  unto  the  light  of  a 
glorious  lucid  object,  the  more  light  we  have,  still  all  along 
as  we  go,  our  way  grows  more  and  more  lightsome.  And 
strength  grows  and  increases  too  with  the  light.  The  right- 
eous shall  hold  on  his  way,  and  he  that  hath  clean  hands 
shall  be  stronger  and  stronger,  Job  xvii.  9.  There  is  an 
increase  with  the  increase  of  God.  They  don't  walk  in 
the  Spirit  therefore  who  keep  moving,  but  move  in  a  circle, 
or  in  a  round  of  empty  sapless  duties,  keep  up  the  formal- 
ities of  religion,  and  no  more;  but  they  walk  in  the  Spirit 
who  make  a  progress,  w^ho  go  forward,  who  draw  nearer 
and  nearer  unto  God,  and  become  more  suitable  and  like 
him,  and  fit  for  his  eternal  converse,  and  for  all  the  present 
service  whereto  he  calls  them. 


SERMON   XIIL* 

It  is  the  latter  part  of  the  verse  that  we  are  upon,  from 
which,  considered  in  that  reference  which  it  carries  to  the 
former,  we  have  observed — That  it  belongs  to  the  state  of 
them,  who  are  made  alive  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  to  w^alk  in 
the  Spirit. — We  have  proposed  in  speaking  to  this,  to  show 
you,— 1.  What  walking  in  the  Spirit  imports, — 2.  How  it 
belongs  unto  the  state  of  living  Christians  thus  to  walk. — 
The  former  we  have  already  spoken  to,  and  now  go  on  to 
the  other,  viz. 

To  evince  to  you,  that  it  belongs  to  the  state  of  those, 
that  live  in  the  Spirit,  thus  to  walk  in  it.  Now  we  are  tc 
show  you,  that  it  belongs  to  the  state  of  such  as  a  privilege  ,- 
and  therein,  the  part  of  the  Holy  Ghost  to  cause  and  con- 
duct all  the  holy  motions  of  renew^ed  souls:  and  also,  that 
it  belongs  to  their  state  as  a  duty,  and  therein  we  are  to 


Serm.  XIII. 


IN  REFERENCE  TO  TARTICULAR  PERSONS. 


541 


show  you  our  part.  Tlie  motion  of  this  or  that  thing,  if  it 
can  be  said  to  be  its  own  motion  as  this  is  said  to  be  ours, 
(for  we  must  "  walk  in  the  Spirit,")  signifies  a  part  to  be 
done  by  it ;  and  ve  therefore  have  a  part  to  do,  in  com- 
pliance with,  and  in  subordination  to,  the  Spirit  of  Gotl, 
in  this  thing.  There  can't  be  walking  in  the  Spirit,  but 
there  must  be  a  concurrence  of  its  part,  and  ours;  its,  ac- 
cording to  its  supremacy,  and  ours,  according  to  our  sub- 
ordinaticn.  Under  thissecond  head  therefore  the  demon- 
stration will  lie,  how  it  belongs,  or  that  it  doth  belong,  to 
the  state  of  renewed  souls  to  walk  in  the  Spirit ;  they  may, 
and  they  ought.  They  may,  so  it  speaks  their  privilege, 
and  the  readiness  of  the  Spirit  still  to  co-operate,  accord- 
ing to  what  part  is  assigned  it ;  they  ought,  so  it  speaks 
their  duty;  they  ought  so  to  walk,  i.  e.  so  to  demean  and 
carry  themselves,  as  that  they  may,  according  to  the  pre- 
scribed and  appointed  methods,  make  sure  to  themselves 
the  help,  and  concurient  influence  and  co-operation,  of  the 
Spirit  through  their  course.  Both  these  are  plainly  enough 
signified  to  us  by  the  very  words  of  the  text  itself;  one,  as 
implied,  plainly  enough  implied,  and  the  other  more  plain- 
ly expressed.  And  it  will  be  necessary  to  speak  unto  them 
severally  and  distinctly. 

1.  Walking  in  the  Spirit  belongs  unto  the  state  of  such 
as  are  spirittially  alive,  as  a  privilege  proper  thereunto. 
The  injunction,  "  Walk  in  the  Spirit,"  plainly  supposes 
that  the  Spirit  is  communicable  for  this  purpose,  that  walk- 
ing in  the  Spirit  is  no  impossible  thing,  that  'tis  a  thing 
which  by  a  stated  gracious  vouchsafement  appertains  to 
the  state  of  them  to  whom  this  charge  is  given.  It  is  a 
known  and  unquestionable  rule  in  such  cases,  that  precepts 
and  promises  do  imply  one  another:  and  such  precept  car- 
ries in  it  a  virtual  promise,  any  such  promise  carries  in  it 
a  virtual  precept.  The  precept  supposes  the  promise,  and 
the  promise  infers  the  precept ;  that  is,  an  obligation  to  the 
thing  in  reference  whereto  such  and  such  help  is  promised 
to  be  afforded.  If  it  should  be  enjoined  us  to  walk  in  the 
light  of  the  sun,  it  is  supposed  that  the  sun  doth  ordinarily 
shine.  There  is  a  connexion  therefore  manifestly  implied 
here  between  the  action  that  is  enjoined  us,  and  the  sup- 
posed communication  of  the  Spirit  in  order  thereto;  or 
its  constant  communicableness,  or  aptitude  and  readiness 
to  communicate  itself,  according  as  walking  in  it^  doth 
require.  For  how  harshly  would  it  sound,  to  enjoin  any 
one  to  make  use  of  that  wherewith  he  hath  nothing  at  ail 
to  do  ;  to  use  an  incommunicable  thing,  a  thing  to  which 
I  have  no  pretence,  to  which  I  can  lay  no  kind  of  claim  ! 
As  if  one  should  enjoin  a  child  to  do  such  or  such  a  thing 
by  the  strength  of  a  giant.  It  is  implied  that  there  are 
certain  rules  and  methods,  according  whereunto,  in  a 
stated  way,  the  Spirit  is  ready  to  communicate  and  give 
forth  itself  in  reference  unto  all  those  actions  and  motions, 
proper  to  the  state  of  the  renewed  soul,  which  are  com- 
prehended, as  you  have  heard,  under  the  expression  of 
walking. 

The  Spirit's  part  being  that  therefore  which  we  have  to 
consider  and  speak  to  in  the  first  place,  as  pre-supposed ; 
there  are  two  things  that  I  shall  do  in  reference  to  that.  I 
shall  show  you, — 1.  What  communication  of  the  Spirit  is 
necessary  unto  our  walking  in  it, — 2.  The  communica- 
tiveness of  the  Spirit,  or  its  aptitude  to  communicate  itself, 
unto  this  purpose,  and  according  unto  such  necessity. 

1.  What  communication  of  the  Spirit  is  necessarv  unto 
this,  that  we  may  be  said  to  walk  in  it.  We  have  hinted 
to  you  already  what  communication  is  necessary,  in  telling 
you  what  walking  in  the  Spirit  implies.  A  communica- 
tion both  of  light  and  power  is  necessary.  Consider  wc 
both  these.  A  communication  of  such  light  and  such 
power,  as  are  quite  of  another  orb,  and  belong  to  another 
sphere  than  that  of  nature;  a  light  that  is  more  than  na- 
tural, and  a  power  that  is  more  Ihan  natural :  such  light 
and  power  are  necessary  to  our  walking  in  the  Spirit. 
We  shall  speak  distinctly  unto  the  one  and  the  other  of 
these. 

I.  Walking  in  the  Spirit  doth  necessarily  suppose  a  com- 
munication of  spiritual  light,  or  light  from  the  Spirit,  as  the 
privilege  of  truly  living  Christians,  proper  to  their  sta'e, 
which  the  exigency  of  their  case  doth  require  and  call  for. 
This  is  of  the  very  prima rdia  (as  I  may  speak)  of  the  new 
creation,  that  great  work  of  God  upon  the  spirits  of  men, 


by  which  he  doth  new-mould  them  both  for  obedience  and 
blessedness.  This  light  keep.s  within  the  sphere  and  verge 
of  Ills  own  people,  the  people  that  he  doth  form  for  him- 
self: O  house  of  Jacob,  let  us  walk  in  the  light  of  the  Lord, 
Isa.  ii.  5.  It  plainly  means  that  directive  light  which  is  to 
guide  the  course  of  our  walking,  as  you  will  see,  if  you 
look  back  unto  the  3d  verse  of  that  chapter,  "  Many  people 
shall  go  and  say.  Come  ye,  and  let  us  go  up  to  the  moun- 
tain of  the  Lord,  to  the  house  of  the  God  of  Jacob,  and  he 
will  teach  us  his  ways,  and  we  will  walk  in  his  paths." 
That  we  may  do  so,  it  is  necessary  that  he  teacheth  us  his 
ways,  and  enlighten  our  way,  and,  as  it  were,  afford  us  a 
continual  light  through  the  whole  course  and  tract  of  that 
way  wherein  we  are  to  walk.  This  light  is  not  merely  an 
adventitious,  uncertain  thing,  but  a  .stated,  settled  thing. 
It  is  necessary  that  it  be  so  in  order  to  our  walking  in 
the  Spirit.  When  God  began  this  work  of  the  new  crea- 
tion, the  provision  was,  "  Let  there  be  light ;"  that  was  the 
care  that  was  taken  in  the  old  creation,  to  which  the 
apostle  doth  manifestly  allude  in  2  Cor.  iv.  G.  God  who 
commanded  the  light  to  shine  out  of  darkness,  hath  shined 
in  our  hearts,  to  give  the  light  of  the  knowledge  of  the 
glory  of  God  in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ.  He,  that  at 
first  made  light  shine  out  of  darkness,  in  raising  up  and 
forming  this  old  world,  when  he  comes  to  raise  the  new 
creation  out  of  the  ruins  of  the  old,  in  the  spirits  of  men, 
doth  the  same  thing,  and  followeth  the  same  method.  He 
makes  light  to  shine  into  those  dark  and  desolate  souls, 
that  before  were  lost  in  darkness  and  death,  thai  they  may 
know  which  way  to  turn  themselves,  and  to  choose  their 
way,  what  is  to  be  done,  and  what  is  not  to  be  done.  We 
are  not  to  think  that  this  light,  this  more  than  natural  light, 
is  a  thing  separate  from  a  vital  and  motive  power  and  in- 
fluence, but  most  inwardly  and  necessarily  conjunct  and 
connected  therewith  :  as  the  light  of  the  sun  in  reference 
to  the  sensible  world  is  a  vigorous  light,  a  light  which  hath 
an  influence  accompanying  it.  And  think  we  with  our- 
selves, what  a  miserable  desolation  must  presently  ci:sue, 
not  only  darkness,  but  death  too,  if  God  should  put  out 
the  sun,  and  that  great  luminary  of  heaven  should  become 
all  on  a  sudden  totally  extinct ! '  What  a  universal  languor 
would  there  be  upon  universal  nature,  even  all  on  a  sud- 
den !  Such  is  the  light  unto  the  new  world,  the  new  ci ca- 
tion of  which  J  am  speaking.  That  spiritual  light,  as 
was  formerly  intimated,  is  vital  light,  "  light  of  life."  Life 
is  said  to  be  light  in  that  heretofore  mentioned,  John  i.  4. 
And  when,  in  Eph.  v.  14.  the  words  are  directed  unto 
souls  that  are  asleep  and  buried,  as  it  were,  in  death, 
"  Awake,  thou  that  sleepest,  and  arise  from  the  dead,''  it  is 
superadded  what  they  were  to  expect  from  Christ :  and 
one  would  think  it  .should  rather  have  been  said,  Christ 
shall  give  thee  life;  but  it  is  said,  "  Christ  shall  give  thee 
light,"  implying  that  to  be  a  vital  light,  a  light  that  carries 
life  in  it ;  and  which,  when  he  comes  efficaciously  and 
powerfully  to  awaken  souls,  and  by  his  word  make  them 
arise,  he  must  then  infuse  light  and  life  loseiher  in  one, 
Light  is  spoken  of  as  the  very  composition  of  the  new 
creature,  as  if  it  were  a  being  all  of  light,  "Ye  were  dark- 
ness, but  now  are  ye  light  in  the  Lord,"  and  this  in  refer- 
ence to  their  walking  as  children  of  the  light.  Eph.  v.  8. 
They  are  made  up  of  light,  being  born  spirit  of  Spirit,  as 
we  had  occasicm  fonnerlv  to  note.  The  great  and  glorious 
God  himself  is  called  the  God  of  light,  they  are  called  the 
children  of  light.  That  is  their  parentage.  Light  de.scend- 
ed  of  light,  begotten  of  light.  "God  is  light,  and  in  him 
is  no  darkness  at  all."  All  converse  with  him  is  walking 
in  the  light  as  he  is  in  the  light,  1  John  i.  7. — It  is  true, 
that  light  signifies  holiness,  it  necessarily  connotes  it  ;  but 
then  this  only,  as  was  heretofore  intimated,  doth  import 
and  signify,  that  that  light,  which  goes  into  the  composi- 
tion of  the  new  creature,  is  efficacious,  refining,  transform- 
ing light,  such  as  makes  the  soul  .some  way  throughout 
suitable  unto  the  motions  of  truth,  which  are  now  placed 
in  the  speculative  understanding.  Whereas  the  case  is 
much  otherwise  with  unchanged,  unrenewed  souls.  There 
is  a  discordancy,  a  disairreemeni  between  their  habitual 
frame  and  temper,  and  the  notions  of  truth  which  are  in 
their  minds.  But  when  the  notions  of  truth,  and  the  frame 
and  disposition  of  the  heart,  come  to  be  similar  unto  one 
another,  then  is  the  soul  said  to  be,  as  it  were,  a  being  of 


542 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT 


Serm.  XIII. 


light ;  it  is  all  light.  "  Ye  were  darkness ;"  so  men  are  in 
their  natural  and  degenerate  state,  all  darkness,  the  very 
light  that  is  in  them  is  darkness ;  but  when  this  change 
comes  to  be  made,  then  are  they  "  light  in  the  Lord."  Now 
that  which  is  so  natural,  and  is  even  in  the  very  constitu- 
tion of  the  new  creature,  must  needs  be  a  continual  thing; 
and  so  must  be  continually  maintained,  and  is  maintained 
by  a  continual  influence,  or  irradiation  of  light  from  the 
blessed  Spirit  upon  the  soul  that  it  hath  begot. 

I  might  be  here  yet  more  particular,  as  it  is  not  unneces- 
sary to  be,  and  show  you  both  in  reference  to  what  objects, 
and  in  reference  to  what  acts,  such  light  is  needful  for  our 
walking  in  the  Spirit. 

1.  In  reference  to  what  objects  such  light  is  necessary. 
What  things  are  there  to  be  discovered  and  made  known 
to  them  that  are  capable  of  walking  in  the  Spirit,  in  refer- 
ence whereto  such  a  light  as  this  is  necessary  1  Many  ob- 
jects we  might  speak  of,  if  we  would  particularize,  but  we 
shall  gather  up  things  (because  we  intend  to  speak  very 
briefly)  under  as  general  heads  as  we  can. 

1.  It  is  necessary,  that  we  have  light  in  reference  to  the 
end  towards  which  we  are  to  act  or  move  in  this  course. 
Spiritval  walking,  as  you  have  heard,  connotes  an  end  ;  it 
is  necessary  that  there  be  a  spiritual  light  in  reference  to 
that  end,  unto  which  the  course  of  this  spiritual  walking 
is  and  ought  to  be  directed.  That  end,  you  know,  is  no 
other  than  the  blessed  God  himself,  and  him  considered 
as  in  Christ;  for  he  is  not  otherwise  accessible,  and  we 
are  never  to  think  a  thought  of  moving  or  tending  towaids 
him,  otherwise  than  in  Christ,  and  through  him.  This 
light  is  necessary  to  reveal  both  the  Father  and  the  Son  to 
us.  "  Show  us  the  Father,  and  it  sufficeth  us."  We  need 
to  have  him  shown.  The  disciples  acknowledged  so  much 
in  John  xiv.  8.  It  is  only  in  this  light  that  we  can  see 
light,  Ps.  xxx^'i.  9.  How  strangely  confused  and  blunder- 
ing notions  of  God  have  they,  who  are  destitute  of  this 
supervening  additional  light!  Whatsoever  objects  they 
have,  they  are  dim  and  without  efficacy,  and  God  is  known 
as  if  he  were  not  known.  He  hath  given  us  an  under- 
standing that  we  may  know  him  that  is  true,  and  we  are 
in  him,  1  John  v.  20.  And  we  are  in  him :  the  knowledge 
of  God  in  Christ  is  that  which  unites,  or  draws  the  soul 
into  union ;  and  that  is  the  understanding  given,  that  is 
the  additional,  supervening  light.  Whosoever  sinneth, 
saith  that  same  apostle,  hath  not  seen  God,  1  John  iii.  6. 
0  KaKOTTotMv,  hc  that  Is  an  evil-doer,  (we  can't  render  it 
more  strictly  according  to  the  letter  than  so,)  he  hath  not 
seen  God;  i.  e  he  that  is  in  an  unregenerate  state,  he  that 
yet  lives  a  life  of  sin,  he  hath  not  seen  God  ;  no  beam  of 
true  divine  light  hath  ever  yet  shined  in  that  wretched 
soul.  As  our  Saviour  tells  the  Jews  in  John  v.  37.  Ye 
have  neither  heard  his  voice  at  any  time,  nor  seen  his 
shape.  Ye  have  not  seen,  ye  have  never  found  a  right 
notion  of  God  to  any  purpose.  All  that  while  persons  are 
in  a  very  ill  condition  for  walking  towards  him,  for  moving 
and  tending  God-ward.  A  soul  can't  move  blindfold  to- 
wards its  end,  but  in  the  light,  and  with  open  eyes.  And 
if  men  are  alienated  from  the  life  of  God,  it  is  through 
the  blindness  of  their  hearts,  Ephes.  iv.  18.  Persons 
therefore,  who  are  brought  to  have  a  participation  in  the 
Divine  life,  have  a  participation  of  the  Divine  light  at  the 
same  time  to  guide  all  the  course  of  their  motions  and 
operations  God-ward,  and  that  continually  supplied  by  his 
"  Spirit  of  revelation."  How  strangely  at  a  loss  are  per- 
sons to  conceive  of  the  excellencies  and  beauties  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  in  whom  and  through  whom  we  are 
to  tend  to  God,  till  this  light  shine  in  upon  them!  The 
apostle  prays  in  behalf  of  the  Ephesians,  that  "  God  would 
give  them  the  Spirit  of  wisdom  and  revelation  in  the  know- 
ledge of  him,"  i.  e.  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  of  whom  he  had 
spoken  before,  Ephes.  i.  17.  As  if  he  should  have  said, 
''  You  can  never  come  to  know  him,  to  own  and  acknow- 
ledge him,  (the  word  there  used  doth  signify  acknowledg- 
ment,) to  know  him  to  purpose,  unless  the  Spirit  of  wis- 
dom and  revelation  be  given  you  for  that  end."  Others 
look  upon  him  as  one  without  form,  without  comeliness, 
even  when  they  see  him,  as  the  expression  is  to  that  pur- 

Eose  in  Isa.  liii.  2.     Even  while  men  see  him,  they  see  no 
eautifu*;  object;  no  inviting,  no  captivating  excellencies 
are  beheld  in  him,  nothing  for  which  he  is  reckoned  de- 


sirable from  a  practical  judgment.  The  Spirit  of  wisdom 
and  revelation  therefore  is  necessary  to  this.  And  when 
we  consider  God  our  end,  towards  whom  through  Chiist 
we  aie  now  to  be  moving,  the  principal  consideration  of 
him  as  our  end,  as  in  that  state  wherein  we  are  finally  to 
acquiesce  and  rest  in  him,  that  is,  the  future  state  of  glory 
and  blessedness.  And  how  altogether  unapprehensive  of 
the  attractive  power  of  that  end  are  those  souls  that  are  yet 
destitute  of  this  life  !  Therefore,  in  that  mentioned  Ephes. 
i.  18.  the  apostle  prays  for  the  Spirit  of  wisdom  and  reve- 
lation to  be  given  to  the  Ephesians,  that  the  eyes  of  their 
understanding  being  enlightened,  tliey  might  know  the 
hope  of  their  calling,  and  what  is  the  riches  of  the  glory 
of  the  inheritance  that  God  hath  in  his  saints,  or,  among 
his  saints,  as  it  may  be  read ;  the  glories  of  that  state 
wherein  the  saints  in  common  have  a  share.  Our  course 
is  to  be  directed  heaven-ward,  walking  in  the  Spirit ;  we 
are  to  walk  towards  heaven,  that  ought  to  be  the  tendency 
of  our  course  all  along :  but  how  are  they  capable  of 
walking  heaven-ward,  who  are  destitute  of  the  inviting, 
alluring  representations  of  it  1  And  how  impossible  is  it, 
that  they  should  otherwise  be  had,  than  by  this  Divine 
light  !  Things  which  eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard, 
and  which  it  enters  not  into  the  heart  of  man  to  conceive 
of,  God  has  prepared  for  them  that  love  him ;  and  as  it 
follows,  he  hath  revealed  them  to  us  by  his  Spirit,  that 
Spirit  which  teaches  the  deep  things  of  God,  1  Cor.  ii.  9, 
10.  And  if  you  carry  on  the  discourse  to  the  r2th  verse, 
there  you  find.  We  have  received  not  the  spirit  of  ijie 
world,  but  the  Spirit  which  is  of  God,  that  we  might 
know  the  things  that  are  freely  given  to  us  of  God.  We 
come  by  this  Spirit  to  have  some  right  knowledge  of  the 
things  that  are  freely  given,  which  without  this  light  we 
could  never  have  known. 

2.  This  light  is  necessary  to  show  us  ouv  ^cay  from  slep 
to  step.  The  spirituality  of  that  duty  which  is  required 
of  us  we  can  never  understand  aright  without  this  Spirit. 
To  know  what  it  is  to  meet  with  God,  what  it  is  to  obey 
out  of  love,  what  it  is  to  be  in  a  continual,  profound 
subjection  of  Spirit  anto  the  authority  and  law  of  an  in- 
visible God,  we  .shall  never  understand  these  things,  we 
shall  never  know  them  without  this  light.  A  regenerate 
man  has  the  law  of  God,  and  an  unregenerate  man  may 
have  It  too;  but  we  find  that  in  reference  to  that  clearer 
light  which  the  regenerate  person  is  capable  of,  and  is 
possessed  of  more  or  less,  he  hath  need  to  have  his  eyes 
open  to  see  what  there  is  in  that  law  ;  Open  thou  mine 
eyes,  that  1  may  behold  wondrous  things  out  of  thy  law, 
Psalm  cxix.  18.  There  are  wonders  enclosed  in  the  law 
of  God,  which  an  unregenerate  man  doth  not  dream  of, 
which  escape  his  ken,  or  come  not  within  his  notice.  A 
regenerate  person,  one  who  is  made  spiritually  alive,  is 
brought  in  this  respect  as  into  a  new  world;  all  things 
look  with  another  face  and  aspect  to  him.  He  is  said  to  be 
translated  out  of  darkness  into  marvellous  light,  tpo's  Bavfia- 
s-iiv,  amazins:  light,  1  Pet.  ii.  9.  When  he  once  comes  into 
that  light,  "Where  am  11"  saith  he,  "  What  a  glorious 
light  am  I  got  into  I"  Look  to  the  way  in  which  he  is  to 
walk,  and  there  is  a  lustre  and  glory  upon  it  which  was 
never  apprehended  before;  as,  according  to  another  attri- 
bute of  the  same  way,  it  is  said  to  be  pleasant.  The  ways 
of  wisdom  are  ways  of  pleasantness,  and  all  her  paths  are 
peace,  Prov.  iii.  17.  A  carnal  mind  never  apprehends  any 
pleasure  in  these  ways,  and  so  apprehends  no  glory,  no 
amiableness  in  them. 

3.  This  light  is  necessary,  in  reference  to  the  proper 
viotives  of  this  walking.  There  are  such  things.  Indeed 
they  lie  very  much  in  the  objects  themselves,  but  we  may 
frame,  concerning  some,  a  diverse  consideration  of  mo- 
tive;  and  besides  those  that  are  in  the  objects  ;  that  is,  re- 
spect the  spiritual  and  divine  objects,  Lhey  are  desirable  for 
themselves,  and  accordingly,  the  object  is  a  motive ;  but 
there  are  accessary  and  supervening  motives;  as  it  is  a 
very  great  motive  to  betake  ourselves  unto  this  region  of 
spirituality,  of  spiritual  light,  and  life,  and  motion,  to  cast 
an  eye  upon  this  our  world,  and  behold  the  vanity,  the 
nothingness  of  it,  and  all  things  that  do  belong  unto  this 
compages  or  frame.  There  needs  this  spiritual.  Divine 
light  to  behold  that.  A  carnal  man  can  never  make  a 
right  judgment,  to  the  purpose,  of  the  vanity  of  the  creature, 


Sfrm.  XIV. 


IN  REFERENCE  TO  PARTICULAR  PERSONS. 


543 


of  the  emptiness  and  nothingness  of  all  things  under  the 
sun.  But  to  one  tliat  lives  in  the  Divine  light,  that  waiks 
and  isconversant  there,  what  a  fleeting,  despica!  le  shadow 
is  all  this  world,  this  frame  of  sensible  things  that  is 
,  vanishing  under  his  eye !    He  sees  how  the  fashion  of  it  is 

Eassing  away  ;  and  by  how  much  the  more  he  is  weaned 
ereby  and  diseng^ged  fiom  it,  so  much  the  more  is  he  at 
liberty  for  this  spiritual  walk  which  we  speak  of  But  how 
much  the  more  he  gets  out  of  the  entangling  snares  of 
death  that  are  below,  so  much  the  more  is  his  way  above, 
as  the  way  of  the  wise  is;  so  much  the  more  is  he  conver- 
sant in  th'at  path,  that  luiknown  way,  which  the  "  vulture's 
eye  hath  not  seen,  and  which  the  lion's  foot  hath  not  trod ;" 
that  way  of  wisdom,  or  holiness,  or  life,  so  much  spoken 
of  in  Job  xxviii. 

4.  This  light  is  necessary  in  order  to  the  knowledge  of 
ourselves.  We  can  never  walk  in  the  Spirit  if  we  have 
not  some  competent  discerning  of  ourselves ;  and  we  can 
never  know  the  weaknesses,  the  wants,  the  wiliness,  and 
deceit  of  our  own  spirits,  without  the  Divine  light.  To  be 
conversant  therein  is  necessary  to  all  such  purposes,  and 
in  reference  to  our  making  a  discovery  of  whatsoever  is 
needful  to  be  discovered  concerning  the  state,  and  posture, 
and  temper,  and  ordinary  ways  and  methods  of  our  souls. 

2.  The  acts  in  reference  whereto  such  light  is  necessary 
are  these : 

1.  It  is  necessary  in  reference  to  the  act  oi  apfrehejision. 
We  can't  so  much  as  apprehend  clearly  and  with  dis- 
tinction the  things  which  are  needful  for  us  to  apprehend, 
without  this  light  of  the  Spirit  of  wisdom  and  revelation 
given  for  these  purposes. 

2.  In  reference  unto  the  act  of  consideration  it  is  neces- 
sary that  we  have  this  light  to  converse  and  walk  in. 
Otherwise  we  can  have  no  steady  discerning  of  any  thing. 
For  consideration  is  nothing  else  but  knowledge  continued, 
or  the  often  repeated  acts  of  apprehension,  varied  this  way 
and  that,  according  to  the  various  representations  of  the 
object  about  which  I  am  now  employing  my  mind.  In 
reference  to  such  an  act  of  vision  as  this,  i.  e.  steady, 
intent  vision,  there  needs  steady  light.  I  can't  have  a 
steady  view  of  a  thing  by  a  flashy  and  evanid  light. 
Walking  therefore  in  the  Spirit  doth  require  a  continued 
light  of  the  Spirit  to  be  afl^orded  me,  because  I  have  con- 
stant need  to  go  with  my  eyes  in  my  head  all  along,  and 
to  consider  and  ponder  my  way  from  step  to  step,  from 
point  to  point ;  but  without  such  a  steady  light,  as  may, 
as  it  were,  d-etermine  my  eye  to  such  aad  such  objects 
needful  to  be  considered,  alas!  how  incapable  is  it  of 
looking  with  a  steady  intuition,  that  is,  of  thinking  com- 
posedly of  any  thing  which  it  most  concerns  me  to  think 
of.  Can  we  command  our  own  thoughts  1  Consult  we 
our  experience;  we  can  no  more  do  it,  than  "gather  up 
the  winds  in  our  fists."  But  the  Spirit  in  this  way  of 
operation,  holds  them  steady  by  a  commanding  light, 
which  keeps  them,  as  it  were,  under  its  own  government, 
"  Look  hither,"  and  so  doth  determine  and  fix  the  eye  to 
that  which  I  am  called  now  to  consider.  Whence  you 
have  that  experience.pronounced  and  spoken  out.  We  look 
not  at  the  things  which  are  seen,  but  at  the  things  which 
are  not  seen;  for  the  things  which  are  seen  are  temporal, 
but  the  things  which  are  not  seen  are  eternal,  2  Cor.  iv. 
18.  The  word  which  is  here  rendered  look  signifies  tn 
take  aim  at,  (tkotovvtwv  ///uji'.  That  is  a  very  steady  intui- 
tion which  a  man  hath  of  the  mark  which  he  is  aiming 
at,  or  the  end  which  he  designs ;  he  must  always  have  it 
in  his  eye.  And,  by  this  looking,  saith  the  apostle,  "  we 
find  that  notwithstanding  all  the  decays  of  the  outward 
man,  the  inward  man  is  renewed  day  by  day,"  life,  and  vi 
gour,  and  spirit  continually  entering  in  at  our  eves  from 
that  glorious  aim  which  we  have  before  us.  This  will 
need  a  very  steady  determination  of  mind  unto  such  objects 
by  a  commanding  light  and  glory  that  they  carry  with 
them,  so  as  that  the  soul  feels  not  a  disposition  in  itself  to 
direct  or  look  off. 

3.  This  light  is  necessary  in  order  to  the  act  of  dijudi- 
cation, i.  e.  distinguishing  or  discerning  between  things  and 
things,  what  is  of  great  value  and  account  and  to  be 
chosen,  and  what  is  worthless  and  to  be  neglected,  what 
is  to  be  done  and  what  is  not   to  be  done.     There  is  a 

*  Pleached  March  SOtli,  1678,  at  Cordwainur'a  Hall. 


cont'nual  need  through  the  whole  course  of  our  spiritual 
'"alk  for  the  using  of  such  a  discretive  judgment  between 
things  and  things,  and  in  reference  hereto,  there  needs  a 
continual  emanation  of  the  Holy  Ghost;  for  otherwi-e,  we 
put  good  for  evil,  and  evil  for  good ;  light  for  darkness, 
and  darkness  for  light ;  bitter  for  sweet,  and  sweet  for  bitter. 
That  sense  which  should  be  exercised  to  distinguish  be- 
tween good  and  evil,  is,  from  the  blessed  Spirit  residing  in  - 
our  eye,  putting  continually  fresh  vigour  in  it,  that  we  may 
be  able  by  quickness  of  siglit  to  discern  or  .see,  here  is 
somewhat  to  be  closed  with,  here  is  somewhat  to  be  refused, 
this  will  be  good,  that  will  be  noxious.  The  apostle  doth 
on  this  account  praj'  (and  that  is  a  plain  intimation  to  us, 
that  it  is  the  office  and  work  of  the  Spirit  of  God  to  do  the 
thing  that  he  there  speaks  of ;  he  prays^  on  the  behalf  of  the 
Philippians,  in  chap.  i.  9,  10.  that  their  love  might  abound 
yet  more  &nd  more  in  knowledge  and  in  all  judgment. 
So  we  read  it ;  but  the  word  rendered  judf^menl  is  capable 
of  being  rendered  sense,  {waaji  aiadmu,  in  oil  sense,)  "  I  pray 
that  you  may  have  your  spiritual  senses  in  exercise,  that 
you  may  have  a  judicious  distinguishing  sense."  For 
what  1  Why,  "  that  ye  may  approve  things  that  are  excel- 
lent;" so  it  follows,  or  as  the  words  there  may  be  read,  to 
distinguish  the  things  that  differ.  You  are  otherwise  likely 
to  be  imposed  upon,  if  the  Spirit  take  not  that  particular 
care  of  you,  by  the  deceitful  appearances  of  things. 

4.  In  order  to  the  act  of  detenninalion,  or  coming  to  a 
determinati-  e  judgment,  as  we  do  upon  comparing  things, 
and  noting  the  difference  between  one  and  another.  We 
need  the  Spirit's  help  here,  to  shine  with  that  vigorous  and 
powerful  light  into  the  mind,  a.s  to  bring  our  judgments  to 
a  right  determination,  for  the  rule  and  government  of  our 
practice,  which  are  apt  to  be  long  hovering  and  in  suspense, 
if  they  do  not  hastily  determine  amiss.  You  have  the 
apostle  expressing  his  own  determining  judgment,  in  a 
particular,  but  very  important,  case  in  Rom.  viii.  18.  "  I 
reckon,"  saith  he;  the  word  which  he  makes  use  of,  is  a 
word  from  whence  we  borrow  the  name  of  logic,  \oyi^ofiai, 
I  do  compute,  or  I  am,  by  reason,  come  at  last  unto  this 
definitive  and  positive  judgment,  "  that  the  sufferings  of 
this  present  time  are  not  worthy  to  be  compared  with  the 
glory  which  shall  be  revealed  in  us."  That  there  should 
be  such  a  positive,  determinative  judgment  as  that  which 
should  have  the  power  to  be  influential  upon  his  course, 
and  directive  of  it,  do  you  think  he  was  not  beholden  to. 
the  illumination  of  the  Holy  Ghost?  He  doth  not  speak 
like  a  doubtful,  uncertain  man,  or  one  that  did  not  know 
what  to  choose,  or  how  to  steer  his  course.  "  For  my  part, 
saith  he,  I  thus  judge;  I  am  at  a  point,  havinir  viewed  the 
case  round,  inspected  it  narrowly  and  ihoroughlv,  and  con- 
sidered all  about  it  that  is  to  be  considered,  and  I  sny.that 
these  two  things,  the  sufferings  of  lime  nnd  the  glories  of 
eternit}',  are  not  to  be  named  in  the  same  day,  there  is  no 
compare  between  them."  In  order  to  such  a  determina- 
tion of  the  mind  as  this,  it  is  plain  this  light  must  necessa- 
rily come  in  ;  and  there  can  be  nothing  of  greater  moment 
to  the  whole  course  of  our  walking  in  the  Spirit  than  such 
a  determinative  judgment. 

You  see  therefore  that  a  communication  of  light  from 
the  Spirit  is  necessary  to  our  walking  in  the  Spirit.  A 
communication  of  power  is  necessary  to  the  same  pur- 
pose too ;  but  of  that  in  the  next  discourse. 


SERMON   XIV.* 

I  AM  now  to  show  you, 

2.  That  a  communication  of  spiritual  pfficer  is  also  ne- 
cessary that  we  may  be  capable  of  walking  in  the  Spirit. 
It  is  said  that  they  who  shall  walk  in  such  a  course  as  this 
is  "  without  weariness,"  must  in  order  thereto  "  renew  their 
strength,"  and  this  strength  is  to  be  from  a  Divine  commu- 
nication, because  it  is  that  which  we  are  to  wait  upon  the 
Lord  for,  Isa.  xl.  ;^1.  We  hear  of  a  strength  in  the  inner 
man  given  and  sought  for,  which  implies  it  capable  of  being 
given,  for  this  purpose.     The  Psalmist  speaks  his  experi- 


544 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT 


Serm.  XIV. 


ence  of  its  being  given  in  Psalm  cxxxviii.  3.  In  the  day 
■when  I  cried,  thou  answeredst  me,  and  strengthenedst  me 
with  strength  in  my  soul.  And  the  apostle  prays  that  it 
might  be  given  unto  the  Ephesians,  (chap.  iii.  IG.)  That 
he  would  grant  you  according  to  the  riches  of  his  glory  to 
be  strengthened  with  might  by  his  Spirit  in  the  inner  man, 
that  Christ  may  dwell  in  your  hearts  by  faith,  &c.  You 
will  never  be  able  to  act  that  faith  wherewith  to  keep  up 
any  converse  with  Christ,  or  by  which  he  can  have  any 
commodious  reception  in  your  souls,  so  as  to  dwell  there, 
if  you  are  not  strengthened  according  to  the  riches  of  his 
glory  with  might  by  his  Spirit  in  the  inner  man,  in  order 
thereunto. 

That  we  may  speak  a  little  more  distinctly  to  this,  it  will 
be  requisite  to  show  you, — 1.  What  kind  of  influence,  or 
communication  of  power,  will  not  be  sufficient  in  this  case ; 
and  then, — 2.  What  is,  over  and  besidethat,  necessary,  as 
what  will  suffice  for  this  purpose. 

1.  What  will  not  suffice.  It  is  requisite  that  you  have 
a  right,  and  as  clear  an  account  as  is  possible  of  this. 

1.  It  will  not  be  sufficient  to  have  only  that  common 
power  affiirded  to  us,  which  doth  suffice  f«r  common,  na- 
tural action ;  whether  by  that  power  we  understand  the 
faculties  belonging  to  the  reasonable  nature,  or  whether 
you  do  also  comprehend  therewith  the  promptitude  and 
aptitude  of  those  faculties  for  common  actions.  This  will 
not  suffice  for  spiritual  actions,  so  that  we  may  be  said  to 
walk  in  the  Spirit.  Which  may  easily  be  made  to  appear 
from  such  considerations  as  these. 

1.  If  only  such  a  communication  of  power  were  suffi- 
cient, then  no  more  influence  is  afforded  unto  regenerate 
persons  than  to  the  rest  of  men.  For  they  have  a  power 
which  doth  enable  them  to  the  common  actions  which  be- 
long to  them  as  men,  as  reasonable  creatures  ;  which  doth 
enable  them,  not  which  doth  constrain  them;  or  make 
them  do  many  actions  which  yet  they  do.     And, 

2.  Then  there  were  as  much  power  and  influence  afford- 
ed and  given  forth,  in  order  to  sinfvl  and  foi^bidden  ac- 
tions, as  in  order  to  good  and  holy,  and  commanded  ones, 
which  it  were  very  unreasonable  and  horrid  to  think,  as 
we  shall  have  occasion  to  show  you  by  and  by.  In  refer- 
ence to  the  latter,  such  an  influence  goes  forth,  as  by  which 
God  doth  procure  that  they  shall  be  done,  or  makes  them 
to  be ;  but  sure  we  will  not  dare  to  say  concerning  forbid- 
den actions,  that  he  makes  them  to  be  done,  though  he 
gives  such  a  power  as  by  which  they  may  and  can  be 
done ;  otherwise  indeed  it  were  impossible  they  should  be 
done,  viz.  if  power  were  not  derived  from  him. 

3.  Otherwise  it  might  be  possible  that  no  good  action 
should  ever  be  done;  and  consequently  that  no  person 
should  be  saved,  or  finally  happy.  Of  so  great  concern- 
ment it  is  carefully  to  distinguish  between  that  common 
power,  by  which  such  and  such  actions  may  be  done,  and 
that  power  by  which  such  and  such  actions  viust  and  shall 
be  done,  or  shall  be  procured  to  be  done.     And, 

4.  Otherwise  it  were  not  only  possible  that  no  spiritual 
and  holy  actions  might  be  done,  but  impossible  that  any 
should.  For  it  is  not  only  impossible  that  any  action 
should  be  done  without  power,  but  it  is  impossible  also 
that  any  action  should  be  done  without  a  power  propor- 
tionable to  the  kind  and  nature  of  that  action.  And  since 
merely  natural  power  is  altogether  unproportionable  unto 
the  kind  of  holy  and  spiritual  actions,  it  would  be  equally 
absurd  to  say  that  such  actions  could  be  done  by  so  im- 
proper a  power,  as  to  say,  that  an  action  can  be  done  by 
no  power  at  all.  If  you  assign  an  unproportionable  power 
to  any  action,  it  is  a  perfect  equivalence  to  no  power;  for 
it  is  no  power  as  to  this  purpose.  As  a  power  to  walk  is 
no  power  proportionable  unto  the  offices  and  functions  of 
a  reasonable  soul,  so  that  common  power  by  which  such 
and  such  natural  actions  may  be  done,  is  no  way  propor- 
tionable unto  spiritual  actions,  which  it  is  undertaken  shall 
be  done,  which  must  be  done,  in  order  to  their  blessedness 
in  the  other  world,  and  their  glorifying  God  in  this,  who 
are  designed  at  length,  even  of  the  Spirit,  to  receive  life 
everlasting,  Gal.  vi.  8. 

5.  If  common  natural  power  were  all  that  is  requisite 
m  this  case,  then  no  exercise  of  grace,  or  no  actual  grace, 
could  be  said  to  be  the  gift  of  God,  and  consequently,  it 
must   be   denied  to  be   grace :   for  what  is  grace  but   a 


Divine  gifti  Common  natural  power  in  reference  unto 
these  actions  whereunto  it  is  ad«quate,  never  infers  that 
those  actions  are  to  be  referred  to  God  as  given  by  him. 
And  it  may  very  easily  be  made  to  appear  to  you,  that  the 
supposition  of  a  power  only  for  spiritual  actions,  ({.  e.  the 
natural  faculty,)  though  you  suppose  never  so  much  promp- 
titude for  common  action,  which  is  to  be  made  use  of  even 
in  these,  could  not  leave  us  ground  whereupon  to  call  such 
and  such  exercises  of  grace  Divine  gifts.  For  it  would  be 
very  absurd  to  give  the  name  of  the  thing  done,  or  to  be 
done,  to  the  power  that  must  be  used  in  the  doing  of  it. 
If  we  might  suppose  that  at  all  tolerable,  then  we  must 
suppose  that,  because  all  men  have  natural  faculties  which 
must  be  made  use  of  in  believing,  and  have  a  promptitude 
for  many  other  actions,  which  are  some  way  congenerous, 
or  of  like  kind,  all  men  are  believers.  If  it  can  be  enough 
to  say  that  God  is  the  giver  of  faith,  because  he  gives  the 
natural  faculties  which  are  to  be  made  use  of  in  believing, 
then  we  must  say  that  he  hath  given  faith  to  all  the  world, 
and  consequently  since  all  believers  shall  be  saved,  we 
must  say  too,  that  all  the  world  shall  be  saved.  Yea,  if 
there  were  not  an  aversion  unto  this  same  work  of  faith, 
for  instance,  which  is  to  be  otherwise  overcome,  it  were 
yet  altogether  improper  so  to  speak,  viz.  that  the  power  of 
believing  is  believing,  i.  e.  the  natural  power  to  be  used  for 
a  purpose,  which  the  spiritual  power  doth  suppose.  For 
you  might  every  whit  as  well  say,  that  the  power  of  build- 
ing a  house  is  a  house,  and  the  power  which  is  to  be  used 
in  fighting  is  a  battle;  the  absurdity  of  which  phrases,  or 
forms  of  speech,  is  obvious  to  every  one  at  the  first  view. 

And  if  this  were  sufficient  to  say,  that  such  and  such 
acts  or  exercises  are  the  gifts  of  God,  because  that  natura. 
power,  which  is  presupposed  in  order  thereto,  and  must  be 
used  therein,  is  given  by  him,  then  we  might  as  well  cal 
the  fruits  of  the  flesh  the  gifts  of  God,  as  the  fruits  of  the 
Spirit.  For  (as  hath  been  intimated  before)  that  power  by 
which  any  sinful  or  fleshly  act  can  be  done,  must  be  sup 
posed  to  have  had  a  Divine  original,  or  else  no  such  act 
could  have  been  done,  God  being  the  fountain  of  all  power 
whatsoever.  And  all  acts  ad  extra,  all  operations  that  are 
any  where  put  forth  towards  the  creature,  are  common  to 
the  persons  of  the  Trinity,  and  are  indeed  expressly  attri- 
buted to  the  Spirit  of  God.  By  his  Spirit  he  hath  garnish- 
ed the  heavens,  (Job  xxvi.  13.)  and  reneweth  the  face  of 
the  earth,  Psalm  civ.  30.  Upon  this  supposition  therefore 
the  very  distinction  would  be  taken  away  between  the 
fruits  of  the  flesh  and  the  fruits  of  the  Spirit,  which  we  see 
the  text  hath  an  express  reference  to;  and  those  who  do 
the  most  vile  of  those  fleshly  acts  might  all  that  while  be 
said  to  walk  in  the  Spirit,  as  those  who  do  the  best  actions 
imaginable.  That  natural  power  therefore  which  is  suffi- 
cient for  actions  in  common  is  not  sufficient  there.     Nor, 

2.  Is  the  addition  of  gracious  habits  sufficient  to  our 
walking  in  the  Spirit,  or  our  doing  spiritual  actions. 
There  must  be  an  influence  beyond  that  by  which  such 
habits  are  given  and  infused.    For, 

1.  Those  habits  themselves  could  not  subsist  without  a 
continual  ivfl^ience :  especially,  it  being  considered,  that 
they  are  in  the  souls  of  sinful,  corrupt,  degenerate  men  even 
at  the  best.  They  are  in  souls  which  are  not  natural  to 
them.  They  are  foreign  plants,  and  do  so  much  the  more 
need  a  continual  preservative  influence.  As  heat  which 
is  introduced  into  water,  because  it  is  not  natural  unlothat 
water,  therefore  needs  to  be  continually  cherished  by  a  fire 
maintained  and  kept  under  it;  and  if  the  influence  of  the 
external  agent,  the  fire  without,  were  not  continued  to  main- 
tain the  heat  within,  it  would  soon  vanish,  and  the  cold- 
ness, which  is  natural  to  the  water,  would  recover  itself 
Which  argues  that  that  quality  which  is  foreign,  and  from 
without,  needs  a  continual  influence  from  without  to  main- 
tain it.     But  this  is  not  all,  for, 

2.  Beside  the  influence  which  is  necessary  to  maintain 
.such  habits,  there  is  an  influence  necessary  to  act  them  in 
a  renewed  soul ;  otherwise  they  would  not  be  acted.  For 
these  habits  are  in  conjunction  with  contrary  habits  which 
would  impede  the  other  from  going  forth  into  act :  which 
we  do  not  need  to  reason  with  you  much  about,  because 
we  find  the  matter  so  expressly  asserted  in  Scripture,  even 
this  very  Gal.  v.  17.  Ye  cannot  do  the  things  that  ye 
would.     And  why"?  because  the  flesh  lusteth  against  the 


Skiim.  XIV. 


IN  REFERENCE  TO  PARTICULAR  PERSONS. 


545 


Spirit,  and  these  two,  saith  the  apostle,  are  contrary  the 
one  to  the  other.  And  here  it  seems  inore  reasonable  to 
understand  by  Spirit,  the  new  nature,  the  new  creatiire, 
which  you  have  heard  is  called  Spirit,  in  John  iii.  6.  And 
for  that  very  reason  is  the  injunction  given  in  the  IGth 
verse  of  this  chapter,  to  walk  in  the  Spirit,  "  Walk  in  the 
Spirit,  and  ye  shall  not  fulfil  the  lust  of  the  flesh.  For  the 
flesh  lusteth  against  the  Spirit,"  &c.  He  speaks  to  tnose 
whom  he  supposes  to  be  furnished  with  the  habits  of 
grace,  and  yet  they  could  not  act  for  all  that,  unless  they 
did  walk  in  the  Spirit;  and  therefore  walking  in  the  Spirit 
must  import  more  on  the  Spirit's  part,  than  only  its  fur- 
nishing the  .soul  with  gracious  habits  added  to  natural 
powers.  And  for  my  part,  I  dare  not  venture  to  say,  what 
many  do,  that  the  apostle  speaks  of  himself,  in  Rom.  vii. 
as  in  a  state  wherein  he  was  destitute  of  grace,  when  he 
so  expressly  saj^s,  that  how  to  perform  that  which  is  good 
he  did  not  find.  Sure  he  was  not  without  the  habiis  of 
grace  when  he  said  this ;  yet  though  he  had  the  habiis  of 
grace,  there  were  times  in  which  he  could  not  find  to  do 
the  things  that  were  good.  Such  habits  therefore  do  need 
farther  influence  than  what  doth  infuse  and  maintain 
them,  by  which  they  may  be  capable  of  being  brought  forth 
into  act.     And  therefore, 

2.  We  shall  next  lay  down  what  is  necessary  and  will 
be  sufficient  in  this  case  that  spiritual  actions  may  be  done, 
and  so  that  we  may  be  truly  said  to  walk  in  the  Spirit. 
And  such  an  influence  is  necessary,  and  would  be  suf- 
ficient for  this  purpose  as  will  be  so  efficacious  as  to  direct 
and  determine  and  overrule  the  heart  into  the  doing  of 
this  and  that  particular  action,  so  that  it  may  not  only  be 
said,  as  concerning  common  actions,  such  an  action  may 
be  done  by  such  a  natural  power  put  forth,  but  this  action 
shall  be  done.  In  short,  such  an  influence,  as  by  which  a 
person  is  not  only  enabled  to  do  such  an  action,  but  is 
made  to  do  it ;  or  by  which  the  action  is  procured  to  be 
done:  so  that  the  very  production  of  the  action  is  refer- 
able unto  the  Divine  influence  in  this  case,  as  that  where- 
unto  it  doth  actually  enable  and  determine  the  doer.  And 
that  so  much  is  necessary  unto  every  spiritual  and  holy 
action  we  shall  prove  to  you  from  several  scripture  con- 
siderations. 

1.  Holy  souls  are  wont  to  disclaim  any  suflficient  ability 
to  do  a  good  action.  They  say  that  it  is  not  in  them : 
that  if  a  good  action  be  done,  it  is  not  they  that  have  done 
it  by  any  power  that  was  either  natural  to  them,  or  super- 
added diverse  and  distinct  from  that,  but  by  the  issue  and 
communication  of  a  power  from  God  when  it  was  done. 
See  how  they  speak  unto  this  purpose.  Look  into  2  Cor. 
iii.  5.  Thinking  a  good  thought  is  as  little  a  good  action 
as  any  one  you  can  suppose  or  think  of;  but  for  that,  saith 
he,  "  we  are  not  sufficient  of  ourselves."  That  great  apos- 
tle had  not  yet  got  a  sufficiency  into  his  own  hand,  by  all 
his  light  and  knowledge,  and  by  all  his  habitual  grace,  for 
so  much  as  the  thinking  a  good  thought;  Not  that  we  are 
sufficient  of  ourselves  to  think  any  thing  as  of  ourselves; 
but  our  sufficiency  is  of  God.  You  find  his  state  again  in 
that  before-mentioned  Rom.  vii.  21.  When  I  would  do 
good,  evil  is  present  with  me ;  so  ver.  18.  How  to  per- 
form that  which  is  good  I  find  not.  There  was  a  natural 
power,  and  there  were  habits  of  grace,  but  yet  there  was 
wanting  that  present,  actual,  overpowering  determination 
to  the  doing  of  this  good  action,  which  we  have  told  you 
is  further  necessary. 

2.  The  blessed  God  himself,  who  knows  tis  better  than 
■we  do  ourselves,  doth  expressly  deny  us  to  have  that 
ability,  an  ability  to  act  otherwise  than  as  it  is  supplied 
and  given  still  from  time  to  time.  Without  me  ye  can  do 
nothing,  saith  our  Lord  to  his  disciples  in  John  xv.  5.  He 
means  it  apparently  of  spiritual  actions ;  for  the  expres- 
sion is  expository  of  that  of  bearing  fruit,  by  which  they 
should  appear  to  be  his  disciples,  and  such' fruits  as  for 
which  sap  and  influence  was  to  be  derived  from  him 
the  vine,  q.  d.  "  There  can't  be  a  good  action  done  with- 
out me." 

3.  The  people  of  God,  as  they  disclaim  it  in  reference 
to  themselves,  so  they  ascribe  it  to  God.  When  they  have 
done  any  good  action,  they  own  it  to  have  been  from  him ; 
as  David  in  his  own  and  the  people  of  Israel's  behalf  in 
1  Chron.  xxix.  What  a  solemn  and  joyful  thanksgiving 


to  God  is  there  tipon  this  account,  that  he  enabled  them 
to  offisr  willingly!  That  willingness  of  obligation  is  ac- 
knowledged unto  God.  Yea,  they  a.scribe  it  to  God  that 
even  such  an  action  may  be  done ;  By  thee  will  we  make 
mention  of  thy  name,  (Isa.  xxvi.  13.)  implying  that  they 
could  not  so  much  as  make  serious  mention  of  God,  with- 
out God. 

4.  As  they  ascribe  it  to  God,  so  God  claims  it  to  him- 
self He  had  denied  it  concerning  them,  and  they  deny  it 
of  themselves;  they  a.scribe  it  to  God,  and  God  assumes 
it  to  himself  He  claims  it  as  a  thing  appropriate  and  be- 
longing to  him  to  be  the  author  of  any  good  action  that  is 
done  by  any  of  his.  How  plain  is  that  passage  in  Phil.  ii. 
13.  It  is  God  who  worketh  in  you  both  to  will  and  to  do, 
of  his  good  pleasure.  Not  the  inclination  only  is  from  him, 
as  it  is  the  purpose  of  the  habit  to  incline  to  this  or  that 
thing,  but  even  the  action  itself;  he  works  it.  And  so  the 
apostle  speaks  concerning  Chri.stians  in  common  in  Phil, 
i.  29.  that  it  is  given  to  them  to  believe;  not  only  the 
principle,  but  the  act  of  faith  is  said  to  be  the  gift  of  God  ; 
for  to  believe  is  the  act  of  faiih.  It  is  given  not  only  lo 
believe  but  to  snfl^er,  that  is,  the  act  of  faith  and  the  act  of 
patience,  the  exercise  of  both  the  one  and  the  other  are 
given  things.  And  it  is  very  remarkable  to  this  purpose, 
that  God  doth  therefore  promise  that  he  would  be  the 
Author  unto  his  people  of  their  good  work.--  which  they 
shall  do  by  his  Spirit.  You  see  it  is  the  tenor  of  his  cove- 
nant in  Ezek.  xxxvi.  27.  I  will  put  my  Spirit  within  you, 
and  cause  you  to  walk  in  my  statutes,  and  ye  shall  keep 
my  judgments  and  do  them.  Sure  this  is  a  peculiar  thing, 
and  different  from  what  can  be  said  of  many  other  sorts  oi 
action  ;  but  concerning  this  sort  of  action,  he  cau.ses  the 
very  doing  of  the  thing.     Nothing  can  be  more  plain. 

5.  We  may  further  argue  it,  from  the  -reference  which 
holy  and  good  actions  have  unto  that  same  rank  and  order 
of  things  unto  which  spiritual  habits  and  principles  do  be- 
long. Take  you  such  a  sphere  of  good  things,  include 
good  habits  within  that  compass,  and  you  must  include 
good  actions  within  it  too ;  and  then,  if  one  be  from  God, 
the  other  must  be  from  him,  for  every  such  good  and  per- 
fect gift  is  from  above,  James  i.  17.  Now  will  I  say,  if  an 
act  of  grace,  or  a  holy  spiritual  action,  be  a  good  action, 
then  it  is  from  God,  as  that  which  he  causes,  or  which  he 
may  be  said  to  give ;  it  is  a  gift  of  his  grace  :  and  we  can't 
say  that  the  habit  is  a  spiritual  good  thing,  and  that  the  act 
is  not,  when  as  the  habit  is  in  order  to  the  act,  and  were 
otherwise  useless.  And  if  habitual  grace  be  a  good  thing, 
we  may  upon  that  account  say,  that  aUual  grace,  or  the 
exercise  of  grace,  is  better,  because  it  is  that  to  which  the 
other  is  subordinate,  and  to  which  it  serves,  and  therefore 
may  with  the  greatest  certainty  and  clearness  be  concluded 
to  be  a  Divine  gift. 

6.  We  may  further  argue,  from  the  analogy  which  there 
is  between  the  direct  and  the  reflex  actions  of  a  Christian. 
For  consider  the  reflex  actions,  by  which  he  looks  in  upon 
himself,  and  takes  notice  of  such  and  such  things  wrought 
and  done  in  him,  and  concludes  his  relation  to  God,  as  a 
child  ;  how  are  these  reflex  acts  wrought  1  By  the  Spirit 
of  God,  bearing  witness  with  our  spirits;  and  you  must 
suppose  it  to  be  the  superior  in  this  work,  as  it  belongs  to' 
it  to  be.  It  must  then  be  proportionably  so  in  reference 
to  the  direct  acts  of  a  Christian  too.  That  is.  If  I  can't 
know  without  the  Spirit's  testimony  witnessing  with  my 
.spirit,  that  I  am  a  child  of  God  ;  then  I  can't  do  the  direct 
actions  which  are  proper  to  a  child,  without  that  Spirit 
overruling  ami  acting  my  spirit  in  that  case.  I  can't  be- 
lieve, I  can't  love,  &c. 

7.  We  may  3'et  again  argue,  from  the  many  apostolical 
prayers,  which  we  find  scattered  up  and  down  in  the 
epistles,  by  which  actual  grace,  or  grace  in  exercise,  is  im- 
plored for  the  Christians  unto  whom  they  were  written. 
Certainly  such  prayers  were  not  impertinent  or  improper. 
Do  but  look  into  some  of  those  passages  briefly.  In  2 
Thess.  iii.  5.  the  apostle  prays  that  Grod  would  direct  their 
hearts  into  the  love  of  himself,  and  into  the  patient  wait- 
ing for  Christ.  These  were  acts  of  grace,  loving  himself, 
and  expecting  the  appearance  of  his  Son  ;  why,  the  Lord, 
saith  he,  directs  your  hearts  thereinto,  or  determine  thera 
unto  this  vcrv  thing.  It  would  be  very  strange  to  suppose 
that  a  man's  neart  should  need  such  direction  or  determi- 


546 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT 


Serm.  X7, 


nation  unto  another  sort  of  actions ;  that  is,  that  I  should 
as  much  need  that  God  should  determine  it  to  hate  him, 
unto  which  my  heart  is  so  propense  and  inclined  of  itself: 
but  as  to  such  spiritual  actions  as  these,  you  see  the  exi- 
gency of  the  case  is  such,  as  to  make  such  a  prayer  as  this 
very  proper,  "  Lord,  direct  their  hearts  into  the  love  of 
thee,  direct  their  hearts  into  the  expectation  of  thy  Son." 
It  is  plain  then  that  the  very  acts  were  referred  unto  the 
Divine  productive  power,  or  determinative  influence,  not 
the  bare  inclination.  And  the  apostle  prays  also  for  the 
Colossians,  in  Col.  i.  9,  10.  that  I  hey  might  walk  worthy 
of  the  Lord  unto  all  pleasing;  that  expression  walk,  (by 
which  you  have  heard  in  the  opening  of  that  term  in  the 
text,  acting,  or  exercising  of  grace  is  to  be  understood)  he 
explains,  as  we  did,  by  working;  being  fruitful  in  every 
good  work — strengthened  with  all  might,  &c.  The  like 
also  you  find  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  chap.xiii.  ver. 
20,  22.  The  apostle  supplicates  the  God  of  peace  who 
brought  again  from  the  dead  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that 
great  Shepherd  of  the  sheep,  through  the  blood  of  the 
everlasting  covenant,  that  he  would  make  tliem  perfect  in 
every  good  work  to  do  his  will.  Here  is  still  the  action, 
the  exercise  of  grace,  in  reference  unto  which  it  is  matter 
of  prayer  to  God,  that  God  would  make  them  do  so  and 
so,  or  efficaciously  determine  their  spirits  unto  such 
actions. 

8.  Lastly,  We  may  a'gue  from  hence,  that  the  Scripture 
makes  certain  discernible  characters  to  be  as  it  were  im- 
pressed on  such  and  such  actions,  viz.  those  that  are  spi- 
ritual and  holy,  as  by  which  it  might  be  known  that  God 
was  the  Author  of  them.  To  give  you  an  instance  in  that 
one  expression  in  John  iii.  20,  21.  The  form  of  expres- 
sion may  lie  thus,  in  reference  to  what  had  been  before 
spoken  concerning  the  light,  that  light  in  which  every  one 
must  be  understood  to  walk,  that  walks  holy,  or  in  the 
Spirit,  as  you  have  before  heard.  He  who  so  walks,  in 
such  light,  comes  to  the  light,  that  his  deeds  may  be  made 
manifest  that  they  are  wrought  in  God.  A  true  light  will 
make  it  manifest  that  such  and  such  works  are  wrought 
in  God.  It  is  therefore  necessarily  supposed  that  there  are 
some  discriminative  characters  between  works  and  works, 
and  that  those  wiiicb  God  makes  men  do  are  distinguish- 
able by  the  Divine  light,  from  those  which  he  never  doth 
so  entitle  himself  to ;  that  holy  and  spiritual  actions,  in 
short,  may  be  said  to  have  been  wrought  in  God. 

And  it  highly  concerns  us  to  consider,  whether  indeed 
the  course  and  tenor  of  our  actions  is  capable  of  having 
this  said  concerning  it.  Looking  over  the  course  of  my 
conversation,  can  I  say,  "  My  w-orks  have  been  wrought 
in  God;  bring  them  to  the  light,  and  it  will  appear  that 
they  are  wrought  in  Godl"  Even  those  works  wherein  we 
have  immediately  to  do  with  him,  the  works  and  duties 
of  religion  themselves.  O  !  can  we  say,  that  they  are 
works  wrought  in  God  1  "I  have  been  so  carried  out  in 
prayer,  as  that  I  could  find  this  prayer  was  wrought  in 
God  ;  and  so  carried  out  in  meditation,  and  conferring 
with  mine  own  heart,  in  self-tho'ights,  that  bring  these 
into  the  light,  and  I  can  discern  that  they  were  wrought  in 
God ;  the  impress  of  the  Divine  hand  and  power  is  visible 
upon  them  1"  Alas !  how  plainly  convictive  would  the 
light  which  we  have  among  us  be  concerning  most  of  our 
works,  that  they  are  not  wrought  in  God,  that  they  are 
done  at  a  very  great  distance  from  God,  and  that  we  have 
had  little  commerce  with  God  in  them !  That  little  walk- 
ing in  the  Spirit  that  appears  even  among  those  who  pro- 
fess religion  at  this  day,  is  a  great  testimony  against  us, 
that  God  hath  little  to  do  by  his  Spirit  with  the  govern- 
ment of  our  lives  ;  that  is,  we  do  not  put  ourselves  under 
it,  and  resign  ourselves  to  it.  (As  when  we  come  to  speak 
of  our  own  part  in  this  matter  we  shall  have  occasion  to 
show ;  though  there  we  are  acted  too.)  The  vanity  and 
the  deadness  of  our  spirits,  the  formality,  the  licentiousness 
and  the  extravagancies  of  our  spirits,  alas  !  they  too 
plainly  show  that  we  do  not  walk  in  the  Spirit,  and  that 
our  works  are  not  wrought  in  God.  There  is  not  a  reli- 
gion living  amongst  us,  which  is  God-wrought,  whereunto 
we  can  entitle  him  as  the  Author  of  it. 

It  was  therefore  necessary  to  insist,  as  we  have  done,  in 
letting  you  understand  what  dependance  we  must  have 
'  Preached  March  27th,  1078,  at  Cordwaiiier's  Hall. 


upon  an  immediate  influence,  as  to  every  good  work,  which 
leaves  not  our  spirits  undetermined  or  at  loose,  but,  they 
being  averse  to  every  thing  of  that  kind,  oversways  thetn 
thereinto.  It  was  necessary,  I  say,  that  the  truth  in  this 
matter  should  be  held  forth  to  us,  (jecause  I  am  very  much 
persuaded,  that  this  is  the  great  worm  at  the  root  of  religion 
this  day.  Faith  in  the  eternal  Spirit  is  not  acted  to  draw 
forth  that  life  and  influence  which  would  make  our  reli- 
gion a  living,  active  thing,  and  hold  it  forth  lovely  and 
beautiful  in  the  eyes  of  the  world.  Therefore  it  is  that 
we  are  such  languishing  creatures  as  to  the  business  of 
religion,  and  as  to  all  spiritual  actions,  because  it  is  not 
enough  understood  that  all  these  works  must  be  wrought 
in  us  and  for  us.  For  if  that  were  understood,  we  should 
not  be  so  self-confident  as  we  are,  when  we  go  to  duties, 
and  concerning  the  government  of  our  conversations,  to 
cover  ourselves  with  a  covering  that  is  not  of  God's  Spirit, 
and  make  up  to  ourselves  a  texture  of  religion  which  it 
never  wrought  for  us,  never  put  on  ns  ;  nor  should  we  be 
so  inobservant  of  the  motions  and  breathings  of  that  Spirit, 
make  so  little  of  them,  call  for  them  so  seldom,  and  com- 
plain so  little  when  there  is  a  cessation,  a  retraction  of  that 
influence  from  us  in  any  measure.  Certainly  our  judg- 
ments have  need  to  be  rectified  about  this  matter,  and 
actual  thoughts  to  be  revived  in  our  hearts,  that  we  can't 
move  a  step  in  our  spiritual  way  and  walk  without  the 
help  of  this  Spirit ;  that  it  must  do  all  in  us  and  for  us. 
Whilst  this  is  not  understood  and  considered,  we  wander, 
and  live  apart  from  God,  and  Christ,  and  his  Spirit,  as  if 
we  could  choose  our  own  way,  and  do  all,  that  is  needful 
for  us  to  do,  of  ourselves  ;  and  so  we  betray  ourselves  into 
ruin  and  death,  when  we  should  be  soaring  aloft  in  that 
way  which  is  the  way  of  the  wise.  For  we  are  not  to 
think  (as  we  shall  have  occasion  to  show)  that  because 
this  Spirit  governeth  our  way  by  a  strong,  that  therefore 
it  doth  it  by  a  violent  hand.  No  !  but  in  a  certain  method 
which  it  hath  prescribed  and  wherein  it  must  act  with  our 
concurrence;  otherwise  we  could  not  be  said  to  walk  in 
the  Spirit,  but  should  be  merely  passive,  stupid  blocks,  and 
no  more.  We  should  no  more  walk  than  a  stone  walks, 
when  it  is  moved  to  roll  by  a  violent  hand. 


SERMON   XV.* 

We  are  showing  how  it  belongs  to  the  state  of  regene- 
rate persons  to  walk  in  the  Spirit,  and  have  hitherto  con- 
sidered it  as  a  privilege  agreeable  to  their  .state.  They 
may  do  so.  We  have  proposed  to  show  the  extent  of  this 
privilege,  or  what  communications  of  the  Spirit  must  be 
understood  to  lie  within  the  compass  of  it;  and  the  ailain- 
ableness  of  it,  or  how  ready  the  Spirit  is  to  give  forth  these 
communications  according  as  the  case  shall  require.  As 
to  the  former  of  these,  we  have  shown  that  the  privilege 
consists  in  these  two  things,  viz.  A  communication  of 
spiritual  light,  and  a  communication  of  spiritual  power. 
Both  these  have  been  spoken  to,  and  we  may  refer  unto 
either,  or  unto  both  of  them,  not  only  such  a  communica- 
tion as  is  necessary  for  the  operations  of  grace,  but  even 
the  comforting  and  consolatory  communications  also, 
which  are  sometimes  spoken  of  under  the  name  of  light, 
"  Light  in  the  Lord  ;"  and  .sometimes  under  the  name  of 
strength  and  power,  as  when  the  joy  of  the  Lord  is  said 
to  be  "  the  strength  of  his  people." 

But  we  pass  over  unto  the  next  head,  viz. 

To  show  the  attainablene.ss  of  the  Spirit ;  or  how  apt 
the  blessed  Spirit  of  God  is  to  communicate  and  give  forth 
such  influence,  as  the  case  doth  require,  that  they  who 
live  in  the  Spirit,  maybe  capable  of  walking  in  the  Spirit. 
And  here  it  is  necessary, — 1.  To  clear  to  you  the  sense,  and 
then, — 2.  To  evince  the  truth,  of  what  we  do  now  assert, 
viz.  that  unto  all  those  to  whom  the  Spirit  hath  been  tlie 
Author  of  a  new,  divine  life,  it  is  ready  to  communicate 
and  give  forth  all  needful  influence,  in  order  to  their  suit- 
able walking.  In  reference  to  the  former  of  these  we  shall 


Serm   XV. 


IN  REFERENCE  TO  PARTICULAR  PERSONS. 


547 


give  you  some  explanatory  propositions,  and  in  reference 
to  the  latter  some  demonstrative  considerations. 

1.  For  the  clearingof  the  sense  of  what  is  asserted,  take 
these  few  propositions. 

1.  When  we  say  that  the  Spirit  is  ready  to  communicate 
itself  for  such  purposes,  or  for  that  general  purpose  which 
has  been  expressed,  of  our  walking  in  the  Spirit,  the  mean- 
ing is,  that  it  is  ready  to  do  so  in  a  slated  a-nd  constant 
course,  and  not  that  it  doth  soonly  sometimes,  very  rarely, 
and  now  and  then.  For  it  were  not  to  be  imagined  that 
this  should  lie  as  a  stated,  constant  precept  upon  all  Chris- 
tians, "  Walk  in  the  Spirit,"  if  the  supposed  ground  thereof 
were  intercepted,  and  to  be  but  rarely  found  actually  in 
being.  Walking  is  a  continued  thi.g,  (as  we  formerly  in- 
timated,) and  imports  the  constant  and  settled  course  of  a 
Christian's  life  or  practice ;  and  therefore  there  were  no 
sufficient  ground  upon  which  such  an  obligation  as  this 
could  be  inferred  upon  the  Christians,  if  the  influence  of 
the  Spirii  in  order  thereto  were  exhibiied  but  ver)'  rarely. 

2.  We  must  unaerstand  that  therefore  there  are  certain 
rules  according  whereto  the  blessed  Spirit  (though,  as  we 
find  it  is  called  in  Scripture,  a  free  Spirit)  is  come  under 
obligation  that  it  will  be  present,  by  a  vital  active  influence, 
as  the  great  Author  and  Directer  of  that  course  of  holy 
motion  unto  which  renewed  ones  are  more  immediately 
engaged.  We  must  suppose  that  there  is  a  connexion  be- 
tween their  observance  of  such  and  such  rules,  and  the 
Spirit's  communicating  and  giving  forth  its  influence  ac- 
cording to  those  rules.  This  for  explication  I  now  lay 
doM'^n  only  in  the  gen-eral ;  what  those  rules  are  we  shall 
have  occasion  distinctly  to  tell  you,  when  we  come  to  the 
second  general  head,  viz.  to  treat  of  our  part  in  this  matter, 
or  how  walking  in  the  Spirit  belongs  to  the  state  of  souls 
spiritually  alive  as  a  duty. 

3.  When  we  speak  of  the  Spirit's  being  so  obliged,  you 
must  understand  it  in  reference  to  a  regenerate  subject. 
For  wiihin  these  bounds  our  text  doth  confine  us:  "If 
we  live  in  the  Spirit,  let  us  also  walk  in  the  Spirit."  Liv- 
ing in  the  Spirit  is  supposed.  We  can't  suppose  that  it 
should  have  annexed  and  tied  its  communication  unto 
the  actions,  or  the  endeavour,  of  any  other  sort  of  person*? 
that  lie  without  this  compass.  To  such  as  are  got  into  the 
sphere  of  life,  are  within  this  verge,  and  have  actual  union 
with  the  Mediator,  who  is  the  spring  and  treasury  of  all 
spiritual  life,  and  in  whom  all  the  promises,  all  the  ties 
and  obligations,  that  the  blessed  God  hath  brought  himself 
irnder  any  way,  are  3^ea,  and  amen  ;  to  such,  I  say,  we 
must  understand  that  this  influence  is  in  this  stated  way 
to  be  communicated,  and  may  be  expected.  It  is  very  true 
that  others  have  no  cause  to  despair,  but  these  have  cause 
and  ground  to  believe.  They  have  no  cause  to  despair, 
because  this  Spirit  is,  as  hath  been  said,  a  free  Spirit,  and, 
as  "the  wind  bloweth  where  it  listeth,"  none  can  tell  but 
it  may,  one  time  or  another,  cast  a  favourable  breath  even 
on  them.  But  these  have  reason  to  be  confident,  for  the 
communications,  of  which  we  speak,  are  part  of  his  por- 
tion, and  a  privilege  belonging  imto  their  state.  We  only 
add  in  the 

4th  place,  That  whereas  we  told  you,  that  the  communi- 
cations of  the  Holy  Ghost,  due  unto  this  purpose,  do  com- 
prehend both  the  influence  of  grace  and  of  comfort,  we 
must  understand  this  obligation  to  be  more  in  reference  to 
the  former  than  to  the  latter,  to  what  concerns  the  being 
of  gracious  operations  than  the  well-being.  It  is  true, 
there  is  somewhat  of  comfort  involved  in  the  very  nature 
of  a  gracious  act,  according  as  it  is  wont  to  be  said  concern- 
ing natural  acts,  that  thev  all  are  pleasant,  or  carry  a  kind 
of  pleasantness  with  them;  so  those  acts  which  are  con- 
natural to  the  new  creature,  have  a  pleasure  in  them,  which 
we  can't  separate  even  from  those  acts  of  that  kind  which 
seem  to  import  most  of  vigour  and  severitv  ;  as  the  very 
acts  of  repentance  and  self-denial,  if  they  be  in  their  own 
kind  vital  acts,  proceeding  from  the  Spirit  of  grace,  and 
from  the  new  nature  put  into  the  soul.  One  might  appeal 
to  the  experience  of  Christians,  whether  they  do  not  find 
pleasure  in  melting  before  the  Lord,  pleasure  in  abandon- 
ing and  quitting  all  that  is  dear  to  them,  when  they  can 
fully  do  it,  for  his  sake  and  upon  his  account.  Such  con- 
solation therefore  as  is  intrinsical  to  any  gracious  act,  must 
be  distinguished  from  that  consolation  which  follows  after- 


ward upon  reflection,  or  our  taking  a  review  of  such  and 
such  gracious  characters,  discriminative  tokens,  di.<cemibie 
upon  ourselves,  and  by  which  we  can  judge  of  our  case. 
For  the  other  pleasure  is  without  intervening  judgment, 
the  acts  are  pleasant  in  themselves,  even  before  we  come 
to  reflect,  or  lake  notice,  or  consider  any  thing  concerning 
our  states,  whereof  they  are,  or  any  thing  else  discernible 
in  ourselves  may  be  understood  to  be,  characteristical.  In 
reference  to  the  consequential  consolations  we  must  un- 
derstand the  Spirit  to  have  reserved  to  itself  a  liberty;  it 
is  more  arbitrary  in  communications  of  that  kind,  and  doth 
upon  mere  sovereignty  many  times  retract  and  withhold 
that  kind  of  light  for  ends  best  known  to  itself  But  in 
reference  to  those  operations  which  are  essential  to  the  di- 
vine life,  we  must  suppose  that  it  hath  a  fixed  and  stated 
course,  in  which  its  influence  shall  be  communicated  in 
order  to  it.     Our  next  business  therefore  is, 

2.  To  add  several  considerations  by  which  the  truth  of 
the  thing  a.ssented  may  be  manifested. 

1.  And  the  consid/?ration  that  first  occurs,  is  what  hath 
been  suggested  to  you  already,  in  clearing  the  ground  of 
the  observation  which  we  took  up,  viz.  That  we  find  it 
enjoined  and  laid  as  a  command  upon  those  who  live  in 
the  Spirit,  that  they  walk  in  the  Spirit.  For,  as  you  were 
heretofore  told,  it  would  be  very  strangely  unreasonable 
to  enjoin  one  to  walk  in  the  sunshine  at  midnight.  And 
we  find  that  this  precept  of  walking  in  the  Spirit  is  not 
dropped  as  it  were,  as  a  casual  thing,  but  even  in  this  very 
chapter  it  is  urged  and  pressed,  and  with  a  great  deal  of 
solemnity.  As  you  see  in  the  10' h  verse.  This  I  say  then, 
walk  in  the  Spirit,  and  ye  .shall  not  fulfil  the  lusts  of  the 
flesh.  It  is  introduced  here  with  a  solemn  preface.  This  I 
.say^f?.  d.  "  I  understand  m3'self  in  what  I  say,  I  do  noi 
speak  rashly  and  at  random."  And  with  how  great  apos- 
tolical authority  is  the  precept  ushered  in  !  This  I  say, 
Walk  in  the  Spirit.  We  can't  suppose  that  so  solemn  a 
charge  should  have  been  laid,  if  this  had  not  been  a  certain 
thing-,  that  the  Spirit  should  be  communicated,  its  influ- 
ences should  issue  and  go  forth,  as  far  as  is  necessary 
for  this  purpose,  unto  the  persons  that  are  concerned.  We 
find  particular  precepts  given  again  and  again  unto  the 
same  purpose  ;  as  to  instance  in  that  spiritual  action,  oi 
operation  of  prayer,  we  read  of  praying  in  the  Holy  Ghost, 
Jude  20.  and  praying  always  in  the  Spirit,  and  of  worship- 
pins:  God  in  the  Spirit  as  a  stated  thing,  Eph.  vi.  18. 
Phil.  iii.  3.  It  is  manifest  that  the  apostle  speaks  of  what 
was  so,  and  not  of  what  was  very  rare  and  occasional.  So 
the  charge.  Walk  in  the  Spirit,  comprehends  in  it  all  duty, 
duty  that  is  to  run  through  our  whole  course,  and  intimates 
plainly  that  there  is  a  communication  of  the  Spirit  a'ways 
ready  to  go  forth.  The  thing  which  is  hinted  in  that  other 
precept,  which  doth  but  in  terms  and  expression  diffei 
from  this.  Work  out  your  own  salvation  with  fear  and 
trembling,  for  it  is  GckI  that  workelh  in  you  both  to  will 
and  to  do,  of  his  good  pleasure,  Phil.  ii.  12,  13.  That 
word  KaTeoyii^cafit  imports,  "  labour  it  out  even  till  it  be 
finished;  till  you  come  to  the  very  end  of  your  faith,  the 
salvation  of  your  souls."  This  too  is  an  injunction,  which 
exceeds  its  ground,  if  we  ilo  not  suppose  that  the  following 
words  are  to  be  understood  in  a  proportionable  sense, 
"  God  worketh  in  you  to  will  and  to  do,"  that  is,  he  is 
always  ready  to  do  so  unto  the  finishing  cf  your  salvation. 

2.  We  may  consider  to  this  purpose  that  Christians  are 
severely  blamed  when  holy  and  spiritual  actions  are  not 
done  in  the  proper  time  and  season  of  them;  which  would 
not  be  charged  upon  them,  if  the  Spirit  were  only  arbitrarily 
suspended  and  withheld  so  far  as  was  necessary  to  an\ 
such  .spiritual  action.  The  inactivity,  the  sloih.  the  omis- 
siveness  of  the  necessarv  duty  in  the  season  of  it,  the  slug- 
gish performance,  the  decays  and  languors,  that  are  upon 
the  spirits  of  Chri.stians,  are  charged  upon  themselve.s,  and, 
no  doubt,  most  jusily  and  most  righteously  so.  See  but 
that  one  instance  in  Rev.  iii.  4,  5.  Nevertheless,  I  have 
somewhat  against  thee,  because  thou  hast  lel't  thy  first 
love.  Remember  therefore  from  whence  thou  art  fallen, 
and  r^'pent.  and  do  the  fii-st  works:  or  else  I  will  come 
unto  thee  quickly,  and  will  remove  thy  candlestick  out  of 
its  place,  except  thou  repent.  Why,  if  the  case  were  not 
as  we  now  suppose  it,  it  would  only  be  the  unhappiness 
of  a  soul  to  be  left  destitute  of  vigour  and  vital  aclive 


549 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT 


Serm.  XV, 


power,  not  a  crime.  But  we  find  it  charged  with  great 
severity  as  a  crime,  that  there  are  declinings  from  the  first 
love,  and  that  the  things  are  not  done,  which  have  been 
done  heretofore.  Do  we  think  that  God  would  ever  have 
left  the  nialter  so  as  that  the  case  shoul.'  admit  of  this  re- 
ply 1  "  'Tis  true,  the  things  which  have  been  done  hereto- 
fore, are  not  done  now,  but  it  is  none  of  my  fault,  for  there 
was  no  influence  to  be  had,  which  was  most  necessary  for 
the  doing  of  them.  My  first  love  is  lost,  I  don't  love  with 
that  fervour,  and  life,  and  strength  as  heretofore  ;  but  iti.s 
no  fault  of  mine,  the  Spirit  did  arbitrarily  retire,  without 
my  iniquity  or  transgression,  upon  which  this  languor  is 
come  upon  me."  We  must  understand  more  of  consistency 
in  the  precepts,  and  criminations,  and  communications  of 
the  wise  and  holy  God,  than  to  imagine  there  was  place 
or  room  left  for  such  explications. 

3.  That  the  Spirit  is  apt  to  communicate  itself  unto  re- 
newed .souls  for  such  purposes,  we  may  further  argue  from 
hence,  that  it  always  can  do  it  without  any  prejudice  to 
itself  There  is  an  all  sufficient  fulness  and  plenitude  of 
Spirit ;  it  is  a  perpetual  spring  which  thi  influence  is  to 
go  forth  from.  And  therefore  whilst  these  communications 
can  be  afforded  without  any  kind  of  prejudice,  it  is  not  to 
be  supposed  (the  case  being  as  it  is,  between  it  and  its 
own  offspring,  regenerate  .souls)  but  that  they  will,  but 
that  they  are,  always  ready  to  be  given  forth  :  and  we  are 
sure  that  its  fulness  admits  of  no  abatement  by  all  its  com- 
munications. The  sun  hath  lost  nothing  of  its  warmth 
and  influence  by  spending  it  upon  the  world  for  almost 
six  thousand  years  together :  much  less  can  infinite  ful- 
ness suffer  diminution.     I  argue, 

4.  From  hence,  that  Divine  influence  doth  go  forth 
unto  all  creatures,  and  is  exhibited  unto  all  natures,  ac- 
cording as  is  needful  for  their  proper  and  connatural  ac- 
tions, and  therefore  certainly  it  will  not  be  withheld  from 
the  new  creature,  and  the  new  nature,  so  far  as  is  neces- 
sary for  the  actions  which  are  suitable  to  that.  For  this 
would  be  as  strange  a  suppo.sition,  as  if  one  would  imagine 
1  prince  to  be  mighty  liberal  in  all  his  provisions  for  his 
rervants,  but  apt  to  starve  his  own  children,  the  issue  of 
his  body  :  this  is  a  most  unsupposable  thing.  It  is  by  an 
influence  originally  Divine,  that  every  creature  is  enabled 
to  act  whatsoever  it  acts;  enabled,  not  made  to  act  in 
many  cases,  but  enabled.  It  is  by  a  Divine  influence  that 
every  plant  and  tree  brings  forth  after  its  kind,  that  the 
sun  shines,  that  the  fire  burns,  that  all  actions  are  done, 
and  all  motions  set  on  foot  that  are  any  where  to  be  found 
through  the  world.  He  gives  to  all  breath  and  being : 
and  all  things  live,  and  move,  and  have  their  being  in  him. 
He  feeds  the  ravens,  he  feeds  the  sparrows,  he  takes  care 
of  the  lilies  ;  and  do  we  tliink  he  will  starve  and  famish 
the  souls  which  he  hath  made  to  live  spiritually,  so  as  that 
they  can't  be  able  to  act,  or  have  power  to  move  or  stir 
this  way  or  that,  in  any  holy  or  spiritual  action  1  This  is 
a  ihinar  never  to  be  supposed. 

5.  The  communicativeness  of  the  Spirit  upon  this  ac- 
count is  hence  to  be  argued,  that  it  is  always  before-hand 
with  us  in  its  communications.  It  communicates  more 
than  we  improve.  A  very  great  argument  this,  that  it  is 
not  unapt  to  communicate.  Indeed  the  case  is  most  ob- 
servably so  in  the  natural  world,  as  I  may  speak  ;  that  is, 
that  active  power  and  principle  that  works  to  and  fro 
throughout,  doth  in  proportion  much  exceed  the  passive 
and  receptive  capacity.  Nothing  is  more  evident.  The 
light  and  influence  of  the  sun  would  suffice  many  thou- 
sand such  earths;  this  earth  is  too  narrow  and  too  limited 
a  thing  to  receive  and  improve  all  the  light  and  influence 
of  the  sun.  And  then  as  to  what  falls  upon  this  earth 
itself,  how  much  is  there  of  seminal  virtue  that  is  lost,  as 
it  were,  from  year  to  year  !  As  much  as  might  suffice,  for 
ought  we  know,  for  ten  such  earths  as  this,  supposing  that 
all  seminal  virtue  should  come  to  be  actually  prolific  of 
what  is  like  it  in  kind.  The  case  is  most  manifestly  so, 
as  to  spiritual  influences  and  communications  ;  we  are  not 
straitened  there,  the  straitness  and  narrowne.ss  is  in  the 
subject,  in  ourselves,  and  that  blessed  Spirit  always  goes 
Dcyond  us.  It  is  a  convictive  appeal  that  the  prophet 
makes  in  Mic.  ii.  7.  O  thou  that  art  named  the  house  of 
Jacob,  is  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  straitened  7  are  these  his 
doings'?  do  not  my  words  do  good  to  him  that  walketh 


uprightly  1  It  argues  that  there  is  some  defect,  some  in- 
disposition, or  incapacity  in  the  subject,  if  things  do  not 
take,  if  souls  do  not  prosper.  Do  not  my  words  do  good 
to  him  that  walketh  uprightly  1  What!  is  the  Spirit  of 
the  Lord  straitened  1  So  the  apostle  also  be-speaks  the 
Corinthians  in  2  Cor.  vi.  12.  Ye  are  not  straitened  in  us, 
but  ye  are  straitened  in  your  own  bowels.  In  what  re.spect 
doth  he  mean  that  they  were  not  straitened  in  them  1  He 
means  plain  enough,  that  what  of  the  influence  and  com- 
munication of  the  Holy  Ghost  had  come  forth  upon  them, 
to  dispose  and  frame  them  for  that  great  work  of  treating 
and  dealing  with  souls,  it  was  not  fully  answered  by  those 
whom  they  did  treat  and  deal  with:  "  Ye  are  not  strait- 
ened in  us."  He  gives  a  very  great  demonstration  of  it, 
in  what  he  speaks  with  such  largeness  and  liberty  of  spi- 
rit, in  all  that  goes  before.  He  speaks  like  a  man  triumph- 
ing in  that  large  and  abundant  sense,  which  he  had  of 
those  full  and  flowing  communications  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 
which  had  come  in  upon  him,  by  which  he  was  enabled  to 
"  do  all  things,  to  bear  all  things,  to  endure  all  things," 
to  pass  through  whatsoever  difficulties,  to  be  in  "stripes, 
imprisonmentSjWatchings,  fastings,  with  all  pureness,  long- 
suffering,  kindness,  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  by  love  unfeigned, 
by  the  word  of  truth,  by  the  power  of  God,"  and  so  on. 
"  O  ye  Corinthians,"  saiih  he,  "  our  mouth  is  open  unto 
you,  our  heart  is  enlarged.  Ye  are  not  strained  in  us, 
but  in  your  own  bowels."  This  argues  the  matter  we  are 
speaking  of,  even  a  fortiori.  The  ministers  of  the  Gospel 
at  that  time  were  not  fountains,  they  were  but  cisterns; 
and  if  they  ■were  not  straitened  in  the  very  cistern,  much 
less  in  the  fountain.  "  Even  in  that  communication  which 
is  come  so  near  you ;  that  "cistern  from  whence  you  are  to 
receive,  there  ye  are  not  straitened.  Ye  are  not  straitened 
in  us,  but  ye  are  straitened  in  your  own  bowels." 

fi.  We  find  it  frequently  insisted  upon  as  a  matter  of 
prayer,  that  communications  suitable  to  the  actions  of  a 
Christian  and  the  divine  life  might  be  given  forth ;  but 
it  would  be  most  unreasonable  to  suppose  that  we  should 
be  taught  to  pray  for  an  incommunicable  thing.  This 
consideration  we  formerly  mad-e  use  of  to  prove  that  such 
communications  are  necessary,  and  it  equally  serves  the 
present  purpose,  to  prove  that  they  are  possible.  For  as 
we  are  not  taught  to  pray  but  for  such  things  as  are  of 
great  concernment  to  us,  so  we  have  very  little  reason  to 
think  that  we  should  ever  be  taught  to  pray  for  such  things 
as  are  not  grantable,  or  cannot  be  had.  But  we  find  the 
apostle  making  it  matter  of  prayer  in  Eph.  iii.  16.  that 
God  would  grant  them  according  to  the  riches  of  his  glory 
to  be  strengthened  with  might  by  his  Spirit  in  the  inner 
man  ;  that  so  Christ  might  dwell  in  their  hearts  by  faith, 
&c.  intimating  that  Christ  could  have  no  commerce  with 
their  spirits,  but  by  their  active  faith  in  him.  They  must 
entertain  him,  and  converse  with  him,  believing  in  him, 
and  drawing  influence  from  him  that  way  ;  but  this  could 
never  be  done  unless  they  were  strengthened  with  all  might 
by  the  Spirit  in  the  inner  man  to  this  purpose  :  and  there- 
fore this  is  a  thing  for  which  the  apostle  thought  it  fit  to 
"  bow  his  knees  unto  the  God  and  Father  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ."  And  .so,  as  we  noted  upon  that  other  oc- 
casion, in  praving  for  the  Colossians  that  they  "might 
walk  worthy  of  the  Lord  unto  all  pleasing,"  he  prays  for 
an  influence  by  which  they  might  be  enabled  so  to  walk, 
which  is  the  same  thing  as  that  they  might  walk  in  the 
Spirit.  For  it  can  be  no  other  than  that  influence  by  which 
they  were  so  to  walk,  "  being  fruitful  in  every  good  work," 
as  you  have  it  there  expressed  also:  an  influence  suited  to 
the  actions  and  operations  of  the  new  creature,  or  of  those 
who  are  made  spiritually  alive. 

7.  We  may  further  argue  hence,  that  if  we  do  not  sup- 
pose the  Spirit  thus  communicative,  according  as  the  case 
requires,  then  were  the  whole  workmanship  of  the  new 
creature  in  vain.  For  the  very  end  of  its  creation  is  the 
doing  of  holy  and  spiritual  actions,  but  they  cou\d  never 
be  done  without  such  an  influence  as  by  which  the  prin- 
ciples of  the  new  creature  may  be  reduced  into  act.  We 
are  his  workmanship  created  in  Christ  Jesus  unto  good 
works,  Eph.  ii.  10.  Now  it  were  a  most  unreasonable 
thing,  and  infinitely  unworthy  the  Divine  wisdom,  that  he 
should  create  such  a  creature  for  such  a  purpose,  and  not 
supply  it  with  influence  that  can  make  it  serve  that  nur- 


Sehm.  XVI. 


IN  REFERENCE  TO  PARTICULAR  PERSONS. 


549 


pose.  Then  might  it  be  said  as  well  in  reference  to  tlie 
new  creation,  as  it  was  said  to  the  lapsed,  ai)ostate  part  of 
the  old,  Are  all  men  made  in  vain "?  Indeed  they  made 
themselves  so,  unsuitable  to  the  purpose  for  which  they 
were  made.  But  that  there  should  be  an  essay  to  reno- 
vate things,  a  new  creation,  and  such  a  sort  of  creature  as 
should  now  certainly  attain  the  end  for  which  it  was  made, 
this  is  a  thing  never  to  be  supposed.  What  was  each 
principle  in  the  new  creature  made  for,  but  for  actions 
suitable  to  that  principle  1  Why  is  faith  put  into  the  soul, 
but  that  the  soul  might  be  enabled  to  believe  1  Why  love, 
but  that  it  might  act  love  1  Why  patience,  but  that  it 
might  exercise  patience  1  But  after  that  these  principles  are 
all  actually  implanted  in  the  soul,  without  an  influence 
they  can't  be  brought  forth  into  act,  as  hath  been  former!}'- 
shown;  there  must  be  therefore  a  communication  of  the 
Spirit,  it  must  be  still  ready  to  communicate  in  order  to 
these  actings,  otherwise  the  whole  frame  of  the  new  crea- 
ture were  to  no  purpose. 

8.  We  find  that  Christians  are  called  upon,  and  pressed 
to  increase  and  abound  more  and  more  in  good  works ;  (as 
in  1  Cor.  xv.  58.  Be  steadfast,  unmoveable,  always 
abounding  in  the  work  of  the  Lord,  forasmuch  as  ye 
know  tliat  your  labour  is  not  in  vain  in  the  Lord.  And 
in  I  Thess.  iv.  1.  We  exhort  you  by  the  Lord  Jesus, 
that  as  ye  have  received  of  us  how  ye  ought  to  walk  and 
to  please  God,  so  ye  would  abound  more  and  more;)  which 
plainly  implies  that  there  is  still  a  proportionable  influence 
thereto,  if  it  were  attended  to  and  improved. 

9.  Influence  for  such  purpose  hath  been  owned  and 
acknowledged  to  have  been  received  in  a  way  of  prayer, 
and  therefore  we  are  always  to  look  upon  it  as  communi- 
cable. In  the  day  when  I  cried  thou  answeredst  me,  and 
strengthenedstme  with  strength  in  mj"-  soul,  Psal.  cxxxviii. 
3.  There  is  a  recorded  experience.  It  is  but  ask,  and 
have.  "  I  have  asked,  and  I  have  had  upon  my  asking ; 
influence  did  come  in.  He  strengthened  me  with  strength 
in  my  soul." 

10.  And  lastly.  It  is  matter  of  express  promise  and  of 
faith,  and  therefore  if  must  be  a  certain  thing  that  such 
communication  is  to  be  had.  Of  promise,  our  Saviour 
speaks  of  it  most  plainly  in  Luke  xi.  13.  If  3'e— rbeing 
evil,  know  how  to  give  good  gifts  unto  your  children ;  how 
much  more  shall  your  heavenly  Father  give  the  Holy 
Spirit  to  them  that  ask  him !  He  will  give  his  Spirit  to 
them  that  ask  it,  as  readily  as  you  do  bread  to  your 
children,  and  you  have  great  reason  to  suppose,  much 
more  readily.  And  in  reference  to  holy  and  spiritual  ac- 
tions (for  these  are  a  Christian's  fruit)  our  Saviour  tells 
his  disciples  that.  Let  them  but  abide  in  him,  (which  is  a 
parallel  expression  to  walking  in  the  Spirit,  for  it  is  his 
Spirit  in  which  they  are  to  walk,)  and  they  shall  bring  forth 
much  fruit,  John  xv.  5.  He  hath  assured  us  that  it  shall 
be  .so.  And  it  is  matter  of  faith  as  it  is  promised ;  for  we 
are  plainly  told,  that  we  are  to  receive  the  promise  of  the 
Spirit  through  faith,  in  Gal.  iii.  14.  It  therefore  must  be 
a  certain  thing  before.  For  faixh  doth  not  make  its  object 
be,  but  the  object  must  be  pre-existent.  That  which  I 
am  to  believe  as  true,  must  be  true  before  I  believe  it ;  I 
don't  make  it  true  by  believing.  That  is,  I  am  not  to 
pitch  my  faith  upon  an  object,  which  is  hitherto  false,  and 
then  think  to  make  a  falsehood  truth  by  my  believing;  but 
that  which  I  am  to  believe  as  true,  must,  as  hath  been 
said,  first  be  true  before  I  believe  it,  and  the  truth  of  the 
thing  is  the  reason  why  I  am  obliged  to  believe  ir.  If 
therefore  I  am  to  receive  the  promise  of  the  Spirit,  or  the 
promised  Spirit,  by  faith,  it  must  certainly  be  true  before, 
that  it  is  receivable,  that  it  is  to  be  had,  that  it  and  its  in- 
fluences can  be  afforded,  and  are  ready  to  be  communicated. 

And  the  case  being  so,  why  do  we  wistly  look  upon 
one  another  with  meagre  and  languishing  souls,  into 
which  leanness  enters,  which  are  wasting,  and  consuming, 
and  pining  away  under  their  own  distempers  1  There  is  an 
infinite  fulness  of  Spirit,  from  whence  we  may  have  what 
is  suitable  to  all  our  need:  "  That  ye  might  be  filled  with 
all  the  fulness  of  God."  The  apostle  brings  in  that  prayer 
of  his  when  he  had  been  desiring  that  they  might  be 
strengthened  with  might  by  the  Spirit  in  the  inner  man,  in 
the  before-mentioned  Eph.  iii.    That  such  communications 

*  Prpached  April  3ni.  lO'S,  at  Cordw-ainer'a  Hall. 

3'J 


are  to  be  had  as  are  needful  to  our  walking  in  the  Spirit, 
it  was  necessary  thus  to  insist  upon  it,  that  we  might  un- 
derstand and  know  to  Avhat  it  is  to  be  imputed,  and  where 
all  the  blame  and  lault  ought  to  He,  if  there  be  languishiags 
upon  us,  if  we  do  not  walk  in  the  Spirit,  if  our  knees  are 
too  feeble,  and  we  can't  walk,  if  we  are  become  in  a 
spiritual  .sense  cripples,  unapt,  unable  for  spiritual  motion 
and  action.  And  therefore  it  concerns  us  to  bethink  our- 
selves seriously  whether  there  be  not  the  tokens  upon  us  of 
a  spiritual  decay,  languor,  ineptitude  for  the  actions  and 
functions  of  the  spiritual  and  Christian  life.  Are  there 
noti  Can  we  say,  that  God  is  with  us  a.s  he  hath  been 
wont  to  be  with  his  people  heretofore!  If  he  be  with  us, 
why  is  it  thusi  According  to  that  expostulation  in  Judges 
vi.  13.  When,  in  another  sense,  that  people  were  in  a 
miserable,  decaying  state,  is  it  not  in  a  spiritual  sense  so 
with  usi  Do  we  not  fade  as  a  leafl  Are  there  not  gray 
hairs  here  and  there  upon  us?  If  the  Lord  be  with  us  as 
formerly  by  the  commtmications  and  influences  of  his 
Spirit,  why  are  our  hearts  so  low  1  Why  is  it  that  so  little 
grace  stirs'!  Why  is  there  so  little  faith,  so  little  love  to 
him,  and  so  little  appearance  and  discovery  of  a  heavenly 
mind  1  Why  do  the  fruits  of  the  Spirit  flourish  no  morel 
It  concerns  us  to  bethink  ourselves.  Can  we  say  God  is 
with  us  as  he  hath  been  with  his  people?  or  as  it 
may  possibly  be  remembered  he  hath  been  with  usi 
with  us  in  our  closets'?  with  us  in  our  families'?  with  as 
at  our  tables'?  Is  he  with  us  at  his  own  table "?  Is  he  with 
us  in  our  ordinary  aflfairs  and  converse  1  Is  he  with  us  in 
our  solemn  assemblies,  as  he  hath  sometime  been  among 
us  here"?  Is  this  Spirit  with  us,  as  a  Spirit  of  faith,  a 
Spirit  of  love,  and  of  power,  and  of  a  sound  mind  1  Is  it 
with  us  as  a  Spirit  of  humiliation  in  such  a  time  as  this,  to 
abase  and  humble  us,  and  lay  us  low  in  the  dust  before 
the  Lord '?  Is  it  with  us,  as  a  Spirit  of  grace  and  suppli- 
cation, to  enable  us  to  strive  and  wrestle  with  Heaven,  vo 
implore  earnestly,  and  cry  aloud  for  mercy  in  such  a  title 
as  this  1  Is  it  with  us,  as  a  sin-mortifying  spirit,  a  world- 
crucifying  Spirit ;  as  the  Spirit  of  meekness,  and  patience, 
and  self-denial,  and  humility ;  and  as  the  Spirit  of  the  fear 
of  the  Lord,  as  a  holy  and  a  heavenly  Spirit  1  If  it  be  not, 
if  our  own  hearts  must  say  it  is  not,  it  is  fit  v,e  should 
know  what  to  say  next,  that  is,  that  it  lies  upon  us  that  it 
is  not.  It  is  not  because  this  Spirit  is  not  full,  or  is  less 
apt  to  give  forth  its  influences  than  formerly,  but  because 
we  do  not  our  part ;  we  do  not  mind  walking  in  the 
Spirit  as  that  which  doth  belong  to  us,  and  to  our  state  as 
our  duty.     Which  is  the  next  thing  we  have  to  speak  to. 


SERMON  XVI.* 

We  now  go  on, 

Secondly,  To  show,  that  it  belongs  to  the  slate  of  rege- 
nerate persons,  to  walk  in  the  Spirit,  a.s  a  </;//?/.  The  former, 
viz.  that  it  belongs  to  them  as  a  privilege,  is  implied 
in  the  precept,  as  you  have  heard  ;  this  latter  is  expressed 
in  it,  as  you  plainly  see.  Walk  in  the  Spirit.  It  is  a  thing 
enjoined  upon  Christians,  or  those  who  are  supposed  to 
live  in  the  Spirit,  that  they  walk  in  it.  This  therefore 
doth  imply,  that  somewhat  is  incumbent  upon  us  as 
matter  of  duty,  with  which  a  participation  of  the  Spirit,  in 
order  to  our  walking  in  it,  is  connected.  And  it  will  he 
here  requisite, — 1.  To  say  somewhat  concerning  this  con- 
nexion,— 2.  To  give  you  an  account  of  those  ihimrs  where- 
with such  participation  of  the  Spirit  is  connected. 

1.  It  is  requisite  to  premise  somewhat  concerning  this 
connexion.  That  there  is  such  a  connexion  is  plain  to  you 
already,  from  what  halh  been  said :  the  precept  doth  mani- 
festly suppose  it.  What  Icind  of  connexion  it  is,  I  shall 
verv  brieflv  show  you,  only  in  these  two  particulars,  riz. 
— that  it  issrratuitous,  and — that  it  is  yet  a  sure  connexion. 

1.  It  is  a  gratuitous  connexion.  Not  a  natural  one,  as 
though  it  could  not  possiblv  have  been  but  that,  if  such 
and  such  things  should  be  by  way  of  grace  procured,  or 
done  for  any  of  the  children  of  nien,  still  a  further  and  a 


550 


THE  WORK  OP  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT  IN 


Seru.  XVI. 


fiiriber  communication  of  the  Spirit  must  needs  ensue. 
And  we  know  there  are  many  things  that  are  so  connected 
in  their  own  natures  that  it  would  imply  a  contradiction, 
that  one  should  be,  and  the  other  not.  But  such  connex- 
ion there  is  not  in  the  present  case.  For  if  we  should  re- 
flect upon  any  of  the  things  wherewith  we  may  suppose 
such  a  communication  of  the  Spirit  to  be  most  connected, 
it  would  be  apparent  that  the  connexion  is  most  gratuitous, 
we  can  refiecl  upon  nothing  wherewith  it  is  more  eminently 
connected  than  with  faith,  as  we  shall  have  occasion  to 
show  presently.  But  no  man  can  suppose  the  connexion 
to  be  natural  between  an  act  of  faith  exerted  and  put  forth 
in  and  by  my  soul,  and  a  participation  consequent  there- 
upon of  an  influence  from  the  eternal  and  almighty  Spirit 
of  God.  For  bow  is  it  concerned  in  me,  if  it  did  not  con- 
cern itself  1  Or  what  claim  or  challenge  could  there  have 
been,  if  it  had  not  brouglit  itself  under  an  obligation,  of 
such  a  Divine  influence.  As  well  might  a  worm  that 
crawls  upon  the  earth,  command  the  motions  of  the  sun, 
or  occasion  it  so  and  so  to  communicate  its  influence  and 
its  light.  When  we  say  it  is  a  gratuitous  connexion,  it 
imports  these  two  things : 

1.  That  it  is  a  connexion  made  with  absolute,  sovereign 
liberiy:  that  such  a  connexion  might  have  been,  or  might 
not  have  been,  antecedently  to  its  being  settled  and  made. 

2.  It  imports  not  only  liberty,  but  complacency  in  the 
vouchsafement :  that  whatsoever  is  done  in  such  a  way  is 
done  with  delight,  that  he  that  doth  it  takes  pleasure 
in  the  doing  of  it.  Indeed  both  these  are  manifestly  im- 
ported in  that  expression  in  Phil.  ii.  13.  It  is  God  that 
worketh  in  you  both  to  will  and  to  do  of  his  good  pleasure. 
Of  his  good  pleasure,  i.  e.  so  as  that  he  might  have  for- 
borne so  to  work,  if  it  had  pleased  him  ;  and  while  he  doth 
so  work  in  us,  it  doth  most  highly  please  him  so  to  work, 
or  to  vouchsafe  that  co-operative  influence.  He  doth  it 
with  delight ;  as  it  were,  enjoying  his  own  act,  and  gratify- 
ing himself  in  the  benignity  of  his  own  nature,  irom  whence 
it  lioth  proceed  that  he  works  with  such  creatures  as  these. 

In  both  these  ways  we  must  understand  it  to  be  gratui- 
tous, that  there  is  any  such  connexion  between  any  thing 
of  our  duty,  and  such  a  participation  of  the  Spirit.  It  is 
gratuitous  the  former  way  antecedently  to  any  such  con- 
nexion made  and  settled,  as  hath  been  shoM'n.  It  is  gra- 
tuitous in  the  latter  sense  continuedly  all  along,  while  this 
connexion  doth  hold,  as  it  will  perpetually  hold.  For 
though  it  be  true  indeed,  that  after  this  connexion  is  once 
made  and  settled,  he  who  had  made  and  settled  it,  hath 
brought  himself  under  an  obligation,  so  as  that  he  will  not 
rescind  it,  as  we  shall  presently  show  you,  and  therefore  it 
is  not  now  continued  upon  such  terms,  as  that  it  may,  or 
may  not  be ;  yet  it  is  gratuitous  still  in  the  latter  sense, 
that  is,  as  being  continued  with  complacency,  he  never  re- 
penting that  he  hath  made  such  a  connexion,  but  remain- 
ing in  the  same  mind  still,  and  always  ;  that  we  doing  so 
and  so,  or  there  being  such  dispositions  and  frames  of  spirit 
inwrought  in  us,  they  shall  be  earnests  and  pledges  to  us  of 
still  further  communications  of  his  Spiiit,  according  to  the 
tenor  of  his  own  law  and  rule,  hahodi  dabilur,  "to  him 
that  hath  shall  be  given."     So  it  is  a  gratuitous  connexion. 

2.  It  is  a  sure  connexion.  Most  stable  and  firm, 
such  as  whereof  we  need  not  fear  an  alteration.  This 
may  seem  not  so  well  to  agree  \vith  the  former;  if  it  be  so 
free  and  gratuitous,  then  some  'may  think  that  it  should 
not  be  so  sure.  But  the  apostle  hath  taught  us  to  argue 
otherwise  in  this  case,  and  to  understand  the  matter  quite 
after  another  tenor,  in  that  passage  of  his,  in  Rom.  vi.  Ifi. 
Therefore  it  is  of  faith,  that  it  might  be  of  grace,  to  the  end 
that  the  promise  might  be  sure  to  all  the  seed.  That  is, 
the  evangelical  promise  in  general,  whereof  this,  of  the 
communication  of  the  Spirit,  is  one  greai  part,  yea,  itself 
sometimes  goes,  in  the  language  of  the  New  Testament, 
under  the  name  of — the  promise.  Ye  shall  receive  the  gift 
of  the  Holy  Ghost,  for  the  promise  is  to  you  and  your 
cliildren,  in  Acts  ii.  38,  39.  It  is  therefore  free,  that  it 
might  be  sure.  This,  I  confess,  according  to  the  manner 
of  men,  would  not  be  thought  good  logic.  Things  in  re- 
ference whereto  men  act  freely,  or  are  left  to  their  liberiy, 
one  would  think  were  very  unsure.  But  it  is  not  so  with 
the  blessed  God  in  this  ease.  We  are  so  much  the  more 
ascertained  by  how  much  the  more  the  root  and  foundation 


of  this  connexion  is  in  grace.  For  we  must  consider  how 
grace  hath  laid  out  its  own  method,  and  made  way  for  the 
pursuing  and  bringing  about  its  own  great  design.  Con- 
sider it  in  reference  to  this  very  case,  the  communication 
of  the  Spirit ;  it  was  obtained  by  a  Mediator;  it  was  so 
designed  and  determined,  that  no  influence  of  the  Spiiic 
should  go  forth  in  order  to  saving  purposes  ixnto  the 
lost  and  apostate  children  of  men,  but  in  and  through  a 
Mediator.  Therefore  it  is  told  us  again  and  again  in 
Scripture  that  it  is  he  that  sends  it,  or  if  the  Father  be 
said  to  send  it,  that  he  would  send  it  in  his  name.  Both 
these  form  of  expression  you  have  in  the  14th  and  15th 
chapters  of  John's  Gospel,  and  to  the  same  purpose  some- 
what in  the  IGth.  And  he  was  made  a  curse  for  us,  for 
this  purpose,  that  the  blessing  of  Abraham  might  come 
upon  the  Gentiles,  that  ihey  might  receive  the  promise  of 
the  Spirit  through  faith,  in  Gal.  iii.  14.  And  hereupon, 
upon  the  susception  and  undertaking  of  the  Mediator,  a 
covenant  is  established  and  settled  on  sure  promises,  a 
system  of  sure  promises  comprised  and  formed  up  together, 
in  which,  as  was  said  before,  this  is  the  main  thing,  that 
the  Spirit  should  be  given  forth.  Now  the  whole  under- 
taking of  the  Mediator  must  otherwise  fail  and  come  to 
nothing,  and  all  these  promises,  which  are  yea  and  amen 
in  him,  2  Cor.  i.  20.  So  that  hence  it  cannot  but  be  that, 
though,  as  you  have  heard,  this  is  a  connexion  most  arbi- 
trarily made,  yet  it  is  a  most  sure  and  certain  connexion 
notwithstanding  ;  inasmuch  as  the  Spirit,  wheresoever  it 
is  given  forth,  is  given  forth  through  a  Mediator  and  upon 
the  promise.  And  so  we  must  understand  the  tenor  of 
this  connexion,  as  that  upon  such  duty  the  participation  of 
the  Spirit  will  still  ensue,  in  further  and  further  degrees; 
and  where  there  is  no  such  thing  as  is  incumbent  upon  us 
in  a  way  of  duty,  there  we  can't  promise  it  to  ourselves  in 
any  certain  stated  course,  though  according  to  its  absolute 
liberty,  it  can  go  forth  and  let  out  its  influence  when  and 
where  it  pleases. 

2.  We  are  now  to  consider  the  things  themselves  that 
are  charged  upon  us  as  matter  of  duty,  wherewith  the  par- 
ticipation of  the  Spirit  is  connected.  And  they  are  such 
as  these; 

1.  A  sense  of  our  indigent  state  in  this  respect:  that 
we  stand  in  the  greatest  need  of  this  blessed  Spirit  and  its 
vital  influences,  for  all  the  purposes  of  the  Christian  life : 
that  we  can  do  nothing,  nothing  as  we  should,  not  turn  a 
hand,  or  move  a  foot,  without  it.  It  was  most  reasonable, 
that  the  gradual  communications  of  this  Spirit  should  be 
in  connexion  with  such  a  disposition  and  temper  of  soul 
in  us.  For  do  we  think  it  were  honourable  that  the  Spirit 
should  be  under  an  obligation  there  to  be  and  work,  where 
there  is  no  apprehension  at  all  of  any  work  done,  but 
what  might  as  well  be  done  by  a  common  hand ;  and  that 
it  should  do  the  work,  and  we  have  the  honour  of  it,  that 
there  should  be  a  disposition  in  us  to  arrogate  it  to  our- 
selves, if  there  be  any  holy,  gracious  operation  in  us,  which 
hath  a  tendency  to  our  future  happy  being.  Nothing  is 
more  apparent  than  that  there  was  a  high  congruity  in  if, 
that  the  Spirit  should  still  go  forth  in  its  gradual  commu- 
nications and  exertions  of  its  inflixence,  so  as  that  there  be 
sense  still  preserved  in  the  subject  to  be  gradually  wrought 
upon,  that  without  it  we  can  do  nothing.  We  may  easily 
see  how  the  matter  stands  in  this  respect,  if  we  do  but 
consider  where  there  have  been  most  manifest  languish- 
ings  and  decays,  feebleness  and  weakness,  as  to  all  the 
actions  and  operations  of  the  spiritual  life.  As  to  instance 
in  the  church  of  Laodicea,  it  is  plain  they  were  got  into  a 
posture  very  unsuitable  unto  walking  in  the  Spirit,  and 
see  what  their  sense  was  of  themselves,  and  of  their  own 
state  all  this  while :  Thou  sayest,  I  am  rich  and  increased 
with  goods,  and  have  need  of  nothing,  and  knowest  not 
that  thou  art  wretched,  and  miserable,  and  poor,  and  blind, 
and  naked.  Rev.  iii.  17.  If  they  are  blind  and  maimed 
creatures,  whom  this  Spirit  is  to  have  the  conduct  of,  it 
doth  justly  insist  upon  this,  that  they  reflect,  and  under- 
stand themselves  to  be  blind  and  maimed,  that  they  can't 
go  without  being  led,  without  being  supporteil  and  borne 
up  in  their  way  all  along.  And  while  there  is  liale  of  this 
sense  among  us  of  our  great  need  of  the  continual  influ- 
ence of  the  blessed  Spirit  in  order  to  the  conducting  the 
whole  course  of  our  walking,  it  is  not  much  to  be  won- 


Serm.  XVI. 


IN  REFERENCE  TO  PARTICULAR  PERSONS. 


551 


dered  at,  if  this  Spirit  do  suspend  and  restrain  its  influ- 
ences, and  be  at  a  very  great  distance  from  us.  And  I  am 
afraid  there  is  very  little  of  this  sense  among  us  at  this 
day,  that  it  is  too  generally  thought,  that  we  can  do  well 
enough  without  the  Spirit.  There  is  not  that  notion  and 
apprehension,  yet  there  seems  to  be  that  practical  judg- 
ment, "  we  don't  need  the  Spirit ;"  and  when  we  are  left 
destitute  of  it  in  a  great  measure,  we  don't  feel  a  need  of  it, 
and  there  is  little  complaint  that  the  Spirit  is  retired,  and 
not  given  forth  as  some  have  found  it  in  former  days. 
Gray  hairs  are  here  and  there  upon  us,  yet  we  know  it  not, 
(to  apply  those  words  to  this  purpose,  which  might  mean 
another  thing  in)  Hos.  vii.  9.  It  is  with  a  great  many 
Christians  as  it  is  said  to  have  been  with  Sampson  in  Judg. 
xvi.  20.  He  wist  not  that  the  Lord  was  departed  from  him. 
God  was  gone,  and  his  great  strength  was  gone,  and  he 
knew  it  not,  but  thought  to  have  found  it  with  him  as  at 
other  times.  When  we  walk  on  from  day  to  day  in  a  course 
of  ordinary  duty,  and  it  may  be  get  nothing  by  it,  no  life, 
no  strength,  no  influence  of  the  Spirit,  how  little  sense  is 
there  all  this  while  of  its  absence  from  us  1  How  few,  that 
regret  the  matter?  One  would  think  there  should  be 
strange  palpitations  and  throbbings  of  heart  among  us,  to 
think  how  little  there  is  of  the  Spirit  of  the  living  God 
breathing  in  his  own  ordinances,  and  through  the  most 
sacred,  weighty,  and  important  truths  th.at  we  hear  from 
time  to  time.  Methinks  our  hearts  should  misgive  us,  and 
we  should  be  often  recounting  with  ourselves.  What  will 
this  come  tol  A  religion  not  animated  by  the  Spirit,  in 
which  there  is  no  life,  no  influence,  what  will  it  come  tol 

2.  A  deep  apprehension,  or  an  inward,  cordial  owning 
of  the  arbitrariness  of  the  Spirit  and  its  communications, 
and  of  our  own  great  unworthiness  thereof  This  is  an- 
other thing  wherewith  we  are  to  account  the  stated  com- 
munications of  the  Spirit  are  connected.  That  is,  that  there 
be  not  only  a  sense  of  our  want  and  indigency,  but  of  our 
very  great  unworthiness  that  ever  that  pure  and  Holy 
Spirit  should  touch  with  our  souls,  or  have  to  do  with  us. 
This  way  is  its  virtue  engaged  and  drawn  forth.  How  was 
the  virtue  of  Christ  drawTi  forth  in  order  to  the  doing  of 
cures  which  he  wrought  by  the  Spirit  of  God  1  It  is  a  re- 
markable instance  to  our  present  purpose  which  we  have 
in  Matt.  viii.  8.  "  Lord,  I  am  not  worthy  that  thou 
shouldest  come  under  my  roof;"  then  goes  ibrth  his  in- 
fluence, and  does  the  thing  that  was  desired  to  be  done. 
To  have  only  this  notion  in  our  minds,  alas !  that  sig- 
nifies little;  but  to  have  an  intimate,  habitual  sense  in- 
wrought in  our  hearts,  and  maintained  there,  "  how  most 
utterly  unworthy  we,  especially,  and  indeed  all  men  are, 
that  ever  there  should  have  been  a  descent  of  the  blessed 
Spirit  of  the  living  God  ;  that  ever  it  should  have  let  down 
any  thing  of  its  light  and  influence  into  this  dismal  and 
impure  world."  Were  we  more  worthy  that  the  Spirit  of 
God  should  work  among  us,  than  among  pagans  1  Where 
there  is  an  admiring  sense  of  the  arbitrariness  of  grace  in 
this  case,  and  our  own  great  unworthiness,  there  the  Spirit 
is  most  apt  to  issue  forth  in  vital  influence  according  to 
the  necessities  of  our  state.  This  is  true  humility  and 
poverty  of  Spirit,  to  which  that  kingdom  belongs,  which, 
in  the  very  primordia  of  it,  is  made  up  of  righteousness  and 
peace,  and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost,  Matt.  v.  3.  compared 
with  Rom.  xiv.  17.  It  is  to  the  humble  soul  that  still  more 
grace  is  given,  but  he  resisteth  the  proud,  (James  iv.  6.) 
those  who  are  so  insolent  as  to  think  no  divine  gift  too 
good  for  them.  But  to  the  humble  soul  that  lies  in  the 
dust  self-abased,  and  alway  in  an  apt  posture  to  admire 
grace,  if  it  may  but  have  any,  the  least,  breath  of  that  in- 
fluence from  the  blessed  Spirit  of  God  ;  it  may  be  expected 
still  freely  to  be  given  forth.  The  high  and  loft)'  One  that 
inhabiteth  eternit}' — and  dwelleth  in  the  high  and  holy 
place,  looks  to  that  man,  even  to  him  that  is  poor  and  of 
a  contrite  spirit,  and  trembleth  at  his  word,  Isa.  Ixvi.  2. 
and  Ivii.  15.  And  if  you  look  back  to  the  14th  verse  of 
that  chapter,  you  find  the  expressions  more  apposite  to  our 
present  purpose,  Cast  ye  up,  cast  ye  up,  prepare  t)ie  way, 
take  up  the  stumbling  block  out  of  the  way  of  my  people ; 
"  I  would  have  my  people  have  a  fine,  easy,  pleasant,  com- 
fortable walk,"  (.such  as  is  their  walk,  who  walk  in  the 
Spirit,)  and  then  it  is  immediately  added,  "  Thus  saith  the 
high  and  lofty  One,  that  inhabiteth  eternity,  whose  name 


is  holy,  I  dwell  in  the  high  and  holy  place,  with  him  also 
that  is  of  a  contrite  and  humble  spirit,  to  revive  the  spirit 
of  the  humble,  and  to  revive  the  heart  of  the  contrite  ones ;" 
so  as  that  they  shall  be  always  in  a  posture  for  walking  in. 
that  way  thus  cast  up,  prepared,  and  made  level  for  them. 

3.  A  high  valuation  of  spiritual  influence.  When  we 
put  the  greatest  price  upon  spiritual  good  things,  then  we 
are  in  a  disposition  to  receive  them  from  this  blessed  Spirit. 
We  find  that  they  who  have  had  most  of  it,  upon  whom  it 
hath  been  continually  coming  in  afresh,  have  been  full  of 
the  expressions  of  their  high  value  of  spiritual  communi- 
cations. And  even  where  such  things  as  are  considerable 
under  the  notion  of  means  have  been  so  highly  valued,  it 
appears  rationally  to  be  collected,  that  the  end  of  those 
means  was  more  highly  valued,  and  by  the  expressions,  by 
which  hath  been  signified  the  value  of  the  means,  the  value 
of  the  end  hath  been  more  signified;  as  when  we  find  so 
high  an  esteem  expres.sed  of  the  law  of  the  word  of  God  by 
the  people  of  God  in  Scripture  records.  Why,  how  do  you 
understand  it,  when  it  is  said.  The  law  of  thy  mouth  is 
better  to  me  than  thousands  of  gold  and  silver,  in  Psal.  cxix. 
72.  (and  other  passages  of  like  import  you  have  in  that 
psalm,  and  elsewhere.)  What  !  would  we  understand  it 
otherwise  than  of  the  animated  word,  or  law  1  Was  it  a 
dead  letter,  considered  as  such,  without  any  reference  to  the 
Spirit  and  its  influence  working  through  it  and  by  it,  upon 
which  all  that  price  was  put  1  What  would  that  have  sig- 
nified to  have  had  a  spiritless  law,  a  law  without  any  such 
Spirit  going  with  it  as  should  make  it  a  law  of  life  i  The 
law  of  the  Spirit  of  life  you  find  it  called,  that  is,  according 
to  the  impression  that  it  hath  upon  the  heart  and  .soul,  in 
Rom.  viii.  2.  It  was,  as  such,  that  the  law  of  God  was  so 
highly  prized  by  his  people,  as  it  was  the  medium  through 
which  the  Spirit  was  conveyed  and  given  in  from  time  to 
time.  And  we  may  measure  our  expectations  of  the  Spirit 
to  be  communicated  and  given  to  us,  very  much  by  this 
thing.  What  is  our  estim.ation  of  such  vouchsafemcntsl  If 
we  were  indeed  to  speak  the  sense  of  our  souls,  we  might 
soon  find  what  our  value  is  of  external  and  earthly  good 
things.  We  know  what  value  we  should  have  for  a  plenti- 
ful estate,  and  for  a  peaceful,  easy  life,  so  as  to  have  our 
flesh  in  all  things  accommodated,  and  our  sense  gratified. 
Do  we  find  that  there  is  a  proportionable  estimate  of  spi- 
ritual good  things,  and  that  is,  that,  according  as  their 
value  is  superior,  we  proportionably  esteem  them?  Is  it 
the  sense  of  our  souls,  "  Lord,  whatever  thou  dost  with  me, 
let  me  have  much  of  thy  Spirit.  Though  I  be  poor,  though 
I  be  miserable,  though  I  be  pinched  with  straits  and  wants 
all  my  days,  though  I  be  exposed  to  wanderings,  let  me 
have  thy  Spirit  ;  take  awav  any  thing  from  me,  withhold 
any  thing  rather  than  thy  Spirit."     And  hereupon, 

4.  Earnest  desire  of  spiritual  influence.  With  that  the 
participation,  the  further  participation  of  it  is  most  surely 
connected.  Vehement  longings,  where  there  is  some  of 
it,  are  an  earnestof  still  more.  When  the  heart  is  panting 
after  God,  the  living  God,  as  the  hunted  hart  after  the 
water-brooks,  it  is  a  good  pledge,  a  pre-a.ssuring  token, 
that  there  shall  be  still  more  and  more.  How  express  are 
those  words  of  our  Saviour,  Blessed  are  they  that  hunger 
and  thirst  after  righteousness,  for  they  shall  be  filled, 
Matt.  V.  6.  To  hunger  and  thirst  after  righteousne.ss,  is  to 
hunger  and  thirst  after  spiritual  influence  ;  which  implies 
thatwithoui  that,  all  the  fruits  of  righteousness  languish, 
or  could  never  ha^•e  been.  It  is  indeed  a  wonderful  thing 
seriously  to  contemplate,  that  there  should  be  a  connexion 
between  such  desires,  and  such  participations  thereupon ; 
that  ever  the  great  God  should  have  vouchsafed  and  con- 
descended thus,  as  to  make  it  become  a  staled  thing,  that 
they  who  do  desire,  shall  partake,  even  of  that  sacred, 
heavenly  influence.  We  do  not  find  it  to  be  so,  as  to 
meaner  things,  and  of  a  lower  nature.  We  find  not  any 
such  connexion  between  the  desire  of  riches,  and  riches; 
between  the  desire  of  honour,  and  honour.  There  is  no 
Scripture  that  saith.  If  3'ou  de.siro  to  be  rich,  you  shall  be 
rich :  if  vou  desire  to  be  honourable  and  great  in  this 
world,  voii  shall  be  great  and  honourable  ;  and  if  you  de- 
sire to  live  a  peaceful,  quiet  life,  you  shall  live  .<;uch  a  life 
in  this  world.  But  we  find  it  said,  "  Desire,  and  hunger 
and  thiist  after  righteousness,  and  you  shall  be  filled." 
There  is  no  such  connexion  of  an  appetite  to  natural  food, 


553 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT 


Serm.  XVII. 


and  food ;  a  hungry  bes^gar  can't  be  sure,  that  because  he 
is  hungry,  therefore  he  shall  be  satislied,  that  his  hunger 
will  entitle  him  to  a  meal's  meat ;  but  here  you  find  the 
case  is  so  ;  and  how  admirable  is  the  grace  that  hath  made 
it  so!  Desire  spiritual  indaence,  and  you  shall  have  it ; 
spiritual  communications,  and  your  receivings  shall  be 
according  to  your  hearts.  For  bring  a  sincere  desire 
directed  to  God,  and  terminated  upon  him,  and  our  Saviour 
hath  assured  us,  tliat  if  we  ask,  we  shall  receive ;  if  we 
seek,  we  shall  find  ;  if  we  knock,  it  shall  be  opened  to  us, 
and  even  in  this  very  kind;  look  into  the  context  of  that 
Scripture,  Luke  xi.  12,  13.  All  comes  at  last  to  this  result. 
How  much  more  will  your  heavenly  Father  give  the  Holy 
Spirit  to  them  that  ask  him"?  It  is  elsewhere  said,  good 
things,  and  here  it  is  said,  the  Holy  Spirit.  According  as 
grace  hath  laid  out  to  itself  its  own  methods,  desire  is  a 
drawing  thing;  it  draws  in  vital  influence  from  the  bless- 
ed Spirit,  even  as  we  attract  and  draw  in  breath,  in  the 
ordinary  course  of  our  breathing.  And  it  must  ordinarily 
be  said,  that  they  only  are  destitute  of  spiritual  iniluence, 
who  desire  it  not ;  and  when  that  may  be  said,  sure  there 
is  enough  to  be  said  to  justify  the  retraction  or  suspension 
of  any  such  influence. 

5.  Dependence  upon  it,  is  another  thing  Avherewith  a 
participation  of  the  Spirit  is  most  surely  connected.  I 
live,  yet  not  I,  but  Christ  lives  in  me  ;  and  the  life  that  I 
live  in  the  flesh,  I  live  by  the  faith  of  the  Son  of  God,  who 
loved  me,  and  gave  himself  for  me,  Gal.  ii.  '20.  They  that 
wait  on  the  Lord  shall  renew  their  strength,  and  mount 
up  with  wings,  as  eagles,  Isa.  xl.  31.  How  did  the  poor 
cripple  (that  we  read  of  in  Acts  iii.)  derive  influence  by 
which  he  was  enabled  to  walk  1  Why,  he  looked  upon 
Peter  and  John,  expecting  to  receive  something  from  them. 
He  drew  even  with  his  eye,  a  craving  eye,  an  expecting 
eye.  "  Sure  there  is  something  to  be  gotten  of  these  men." 
They  bade  him  look  upon  them  ;  he  looked  accordingly. 
And  we  are  bidden  to  look  too  ;  "  Look  unto  me — all  the 
ends  of  the  earth,"  Isa.  xlv.  22.  We  are  directed  to  look 
upward,  to  look  with  an  expecting  eye:  influence  will 
come.  As  the  eyes  of  all  other  creatures  are  put  up  unto 
God,  and  he  is  not  wanting  unto  the  work  of  his  hands,  so 
the  new  creature  is  prompted  to  do  so  much  more,  to  look 
up  intelligently,  and  with  design ;  "  With  design  I  do  it, 
that  I  may  receive  ;  and  he  who  feeds  ravens,  and  takes 
care  of  sparrows,  will  not  famisli  souls,  that  look  up  with 
an  expecting  and  begging  eye,  as  those  that  not  only  know 
their  own  need,  but  believe  his  bounty."  And  indeed  if 
there  be  not  this  in  it,  it  is  most  highly  to  affront  him,  and 
then  no  wonder,  if  the  stream  of  his  bounty  be  turned 
another  way,  and  never  reach  us. 

Tliere  are  other  particulars,  which  I  should  have  spoken 
to,  but  I  find  the  time  prevents  me.  The  design  of  all 
this  will  much  drive  this  waj^,  (which  I  shall  so  far  pre- 
vent myself,  as  to  take  notice'of  to  you  now,)  to  let  us  see, 
that  if  we  find  not  the  Spirit  communicated  to  us,  .so  far 
as  is  necessary  to  our  walking  in  the  Spirit,  it  is  through 
our  own  default,  we  owe  it  to  ourselves.  Pray  do  but 
consider ;  Is  it  not  our  fault,  if  we  are  insensible  of  any 
need  of  the  Spirit  1  or,  of  our  unworthiness  of  it  1  Is  it 
not  a  fault,  if  we  value  not  the  immediate  communications 
of  the  blessed  Grod  from  his  own  Holy  Spirit  1  Is  it  no 
fault,  to  prefer  dirt  and  vanity  before  the  influences  of  that 
Spirit,  the  maintenance  of  present  spiritual  life,  and  the 
pledge  and  earnest  of  an  eternal  state  of  life  1  Is  it  no 
fault,  if  we  desire  not  that  there  should  be  a  commerce  be- 
tween us  and  that  Spirit  ■?  if  we  think  it  not  a  thing  worthy 
to  be  desired,  worthy  to  be  sought  after?  If  we  could 
have  the  privilege  of  daily  communication  with  an  angel ; 
if  we  might  have  him  to  "talk  and  converse  with,  to  guide 
and  instruct  us  from  day  to  day  in  all  our  ways  and  afiairs, 
and  to  comfort  and  relieve  us  in  all  our  troubles  and  sor- 
rows, would  we  account  meanly  of  this  1  or,  think  it  a 
thing  fit  to  be  made  light  of  1  But  what  comparison  is  there 
between  the  commerce  of  an  nngel,  and  such  a  commerce 
with  the  blessed  Spirit  of  God  1  A  being  taken  into  that 
communion,  which  is  called  the  communion  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  in  2  Cor.  xiii.  14.  Is  it  not  our  fauh,  if  we  Avant 
the  influences  of  the  Spirit,  and  it  hath  no  intercourse  with 
us,  merely  through  our  neglect,  and  because  we  care  not 

•  Preached  AprQ  irth,  1«78,  at  Coidwainer's  Hall.  I 


for  it  1  Is  it  no  fault,  if  we  will  not  trust  him  who  hath 
promised,  and  whose  word  is  more  stable  than  the  founda- 
tions of  heaven  and  earth  1  He  hath  promised,  and  we 
will  not  believe  him  1  Conscience,  if  it  do  its  part,  will 
fasten  the  charge  of  guilt  upon  ourselves  ;  that  if  there  be 
a  retraction  or  suspension  of  spiritual  communications 
from  us,  it  is  through  our  own  fault ;  we  walk  solitarily  ; 
we  don't  walk  in  the  Sjiirit,  but  we  walk  alone,  and  as 
outcasts  from  God,  as  those  whom  he  hath  nothing  to  do 
with,  and  who  have  nothing  to  do  with  him,  but  all  through 
our  own  default.  It  is  meet  that  we  should  admit  the 
conviction  of  conscience  concerning  this  thing,  that  we 
may  not  indulge  ourselves  in  so  manifest  and  so  dangerous 
a  delinquency. 


SERMON  XVII. 


We  go  on  to  mention  some  more  of  the  particular  duties, 
wherewith  such  a  communication  of  the  Spirit  stands  con- 
nected, as  is  requisite  to  our  walking  in  the  Spirit,  beside 
the  five  already  spoken  to. 

G.  That  we  obey  its  dictates  ;  resign  and  yield  ourselves 
to  its  governing  power.  This  is  plainly  enough  signified 
in  the  expressions  of  being  "  led  by  the  Spirit,"  and 
"  walking  after  the  Spirit,"  which  we  have  divers  times  in 
Rom.  viii.  and  elsewliere.  "  There  is  no  condemnation  to 
them  that  are  in  Christ  Jesus,  that  walk  not  after  the  flesh, 
but  after  the  Spirit."  This  imports  a  ductile,  sequacious, 
guidable  frame  and  temper,  an  aptness  to  yield  and  com- 
ply with  all  the  suggestions  of  that  blessed  Spirit.  Yield 
yourselves  to  God,  as  those  that  are  alive  from  the  dead, 
Rom.  vi.  13.  How  manifestly  distinguishable  is  the  case, 
between  going  about  to  raise  a  living  person  that  is  fallen, 
and  to  raise  a  dead  carcass !  A  living  person  yields  him- 
self to  our  helping  hand:  "So  yield  j'ourselves  to  God, 
as  those  that  are  alive;" — the  word  that  is  there  used,  is 
the  same  with  that  which  we  have  in  Rom.  xii.  1.  Fro- 
sent  yourselves  to  God  a  living  sacrifice  ;  and  it  signifies 
to  offer  oneself  readily  for  this  or  that,  to  be  in  a  ready 
posture  to  do  what  we  are  prompted  to  and  put  upon. 
And  this  walking  after  the  Spirit  is  frequently  inculcated 
in  that  forementioned  chapter,  Rom.  viii.  1,  4,  13.  And  then 
you  have  the  expression  of  being  led  by  the  Spirit,  follow- 
ing the  other,  ver.  14.  And  again  in  this  chapter  where 
the  text  lies.  Gal.  v.  18.  If  ye  be  led  by  the  Spirit.  This 
word  signifies  to  be  acted  by  it :  which  doth  also  suppose  a 
compliance  on  our  part,  and  that  we  concur  ;  that  we  be 
in  a  prepared  posture  to  act  as  we  shall  be  from  time  to 
time  acted.  To  rebel  against  the  Spirit,  vexatiously  to  con- 
tend, to  oppose  ourselves  unto  its  dictates,  we  may  easily 
understand,  cannot  be  the  way  to  entitle  ourselves  to  its 
commimications.  It  is  promised  to  be  a  guide  to  lead 
into  all  truth,  all  that  truth  which  is  after  godliness ;  we 
must  understand  it  chiefly  of  such  truth  as  doth  concern 
Christian  practice  ;  but  if  we  fall  out  and  quarrel  with  our 
guide,  and  will  not  obey,  what  can  we  expect,  but  that  it 
should  in  just  displeasure  retire,  and  leave  us  to  walk 
alone,  or  to  wander  as  our  own  inclination  shall  lead  us  % 

7.  That  we  strictly  observe  and  closely  adhere  unto  our 
rule.  This  is  requisite  in  order  to  our  having  these  need- 
ful communications  of  the  Spirit ;  for  it  dictates  according 
to  that  external  rule  :  we  ought  therefore  to  have  our  eye 
upon  that,  which  all  along  lines  the  way  in  which  we  are 
to  walk.  We  shall  very  unreasonably  and  vainly  expect  to 
have  the  Spirit  still  constantly  following  us  in  all  our  ex- 
travagancies and  excursions :  if  it  arbitrarily  do  so,  as  the 
Spirit  many  times  doth ;  yet  we  have  not  reason  to  expect 
it  should  do  so  in  a  stated  course.  The  way  of  the  Lore  is 
strength  to  the  upright,  Prov.  x.  29.  In  their  very  way 
they  met  with  their  strength  ;  holding  on  their  course  in 
that  way,  they  find  themselves  still  to  go  from  strength  to 
strength,  (Ps.  Ixxxiv.  7.)  to  grow  stronger  and  stronger, 
Job  xvii.  9.  When  our  way  is  pleasing  to  God,  then  we 
may  expect  that  by  his  Spirit  he  should  converse  with  as 
in  our  way;  that  is,  if  his  way  like  us.    Two  cannot  walk 


Skrm.  XVII. 


IN  REFERENCE  TO  PARTICULAR  PERSONS. 


553 


together,  except  ihey  be  agreed;  and  especially  if  they  be 
not  agreed  upon  their  way.  Now  we  find,  that  the  way 
wherein  we  are  to  walk  so  as  to  please  God,  is  prescribed 
and  directed  all  along  bj'  his  word.  Ye  have  received  of 
us,  saith  the  apostle,  how  ye  ought  to  walk  and  to  please 
God,  1  Thess.  iv.  1.  He  hath  directed  the  way  by  express 
precept;  in  which  if  we  walk  and  so  please  him,  he  will 
converse  with  us  by  his  Spirit ;  then  we  shall  have  his  con- 
tinual assisting,  directing  presence.  The  steps  of  a  good 
man  are  ordered  by  the  Lord ;  and  he  delighteth  in  his 
way.  Then  though  he  fall,  he  shall  not  be  utterly  cast 
down  ;  for  the  Lord  upholdelh  him  with  his  hand,  Psal. 
xxxvii.  23,  24.  Enoch  gained  a  testimony  of  God,  that 
he  so  walked  as  to  please  God,  Heb.  xi.  5.  To  be  sure  he 
had  him  for  the  guide  and  companion  of  his  way.  It 
is  not  much  that  we  are  under  the  same  lot  that  our  Lord 
Christ  was  contented  to  be  under,  John  viii.  29.  He  that 
sent  me,  is  with  me ;  the  Father  hath  not  left  me  alone ; 
for  I  do  always  those  things  that  please  him.  And  he 
doth  require  it  of  us,  that  as  he  did  keep  his  Father's  com- 
mandments, and  abide  in  his  love;  so  we  should  keep  his 
commandments,  and  abide  in  his  love,  (John  xv.  10.)  and 
so  have  his  spiritual  presence,  or  his  Spirit  to  be  present 
with  us,  by  which  he  saith  he  would  be  present  M'ith  his, 
when  as  to  his  outward  man  he  must  be  removed  and  gone 
out  of  this  state.  That  passage  in  Psal.  ci.  2.  is  very  ob- 
servable ;  the  Psalmist  resolves  upon  this,  that  he  would 
behave  himself  wisely  in  a  perfect  way,  and  that  he  would 
walk  with  a  perfect  heart ;  would  take  care  of  his  way  that 
it  was  a  strait  and  perfect  path  in  which  he  should  walk; 
and  doing  this,  3^ou  find  him  in  such  a  posture  expecting, 
"  O  when  wilt  thou  come  unto  me  1"  Walking,  as  we  told 
vou  before,  connoted  a  way ;  and  this  must  be  a  way 
suitable  to  the  Spirit,  if  w-e  reckon  upon  walking  in  the 
Spirit.  To  walk  in  the  way  of  our  own  hearts,  and  think 
that  the  Spirit  should  be  with  us  there,  is  certainly  a  very 
foolish  expectation. 

8.  That  we  design  all  the  strength  and  vigour,  that  we 
shall  receive  from  the  Spirit,  in  order  to  our  walking  unto 
the  Divine  honour  and  glory  and  service,  as  the  end  of  it. 
Walking  doth  connote  an  end,  as  well  as  a  way.  And  to 
walk  in  the  Spirit  must  suppose,  that  there  be  an  end 
suitable  to  the  Spirit ;  and  what  is  most  immediately  from 
God,  ought  to  be  most  directly  and  entirely  designed  for 
him.  And  I  doubt  not  but  there  is  a  very  common  fault- 
among  Christians  as  to  this  thing;  they  desire  spiritual 
communications  for  themselves,  because  it  is  a  ver}^  de- 
lightful and  pleasurable  thing  to  be  carried  as  upon  eagles' 
wings,  to  have  so  sensible  help  in  allone'sAvalking;  there- 
fore they  desire  such  helps  and  influences  as  a  privilege  ; 
and  sometimes  lament  the  retraction  and  withdrawment  of 
it  merely  as  an  infelicity,  without  charging  themselves  with 
sin  in  the  case  ;  and  it  is  in  the  mean  time  forgotten,  that 
what  God  gives  upon  this  account  is  for  himself,  and  we 
ought  to  have  the  same  design  with  him.  The  apostle 
speaks  of  his  way  of  living.  Gal.  ii.  20.  I  live,  saith  he, 
yet  not  I,  but  Christ  liveth  in  me ;  and  the  life  which  I 
now^  live  in  the  flesh,  I  live  by  the  faith  of  the  Son  of  God, 
who  loved  me,  and  gave  himself  for  me.  Immediately 
before  you  have  the  end  of  that  life,  as  here  you  have  the 
spring  and  source  of  it;  I  through  the  law  am  dead  to  the 
law,  that  I  might  live  unto  God,  ver.  10.  Christ  feeds  and 
maintains  that  life,  and  supplies  all  the  motive  and  active 
power  belonging' to  it,  which  shall  be  devoted  to  himself, 
and  terminate  wholly  upon  himself.  We  are  to  look  upon 
all  these  communications  as  trusts,  which  are  to  be  em- 
ployed according  to  the  pleasure  and  for  the  service  of  him 
that  doth  intrust  us.  Who  will  commit  to  your  trust, 
says  Christ,  the  true  riches,  if  ye  have  not  been  faithful 
in  the  unrighteous  mammon  1  Luke  xvi.  11.  The  things 
of  this  life  are  comprehended  under  the  "  mammon  of  im- 
righteousness;"  to  these  are  opposed  "the  true  riches," 
•which  must  mean  spiritual  good  things ;  such  riches  as 
those  spoken  of  in  Eph.  iii.  16.  where  the  apostle  is  pray- 
ing for  the  Ephesians,  that  God  would  grant  them  accord- 
mg  to  the  riches  of  his  glory,  to  be  strengthened  with  might 
by  the  Spirit  in  the  inner  man.  Who  will  trust  you  with 
such  riches  1  It  implies,  that  such  riches,  wherever  they 
are  given,  are  given  but  as  a  trust,  and  therefore  are  to  be 
employed  for  him  that  intrusts  us  with  them.     They  arc 


talents,  that  must  be  improved  for  him ;  for  that  passage 
doth  refer  unto  the  parable  concerning  the  talents,  as  you 
may  see  in  the  beginning  of  Luke  xvi.  There  is  a  great 
hold,  as  I  may  say,  that  the  soul  hath  upon  the  Spirit  and 
his  communications  by  such  an  ingenuity  as  this  is;  as 
we  many  times  by  ingenuities  engage  eind  oblige  one  ano- 
ther. When  this  .shall  be  the  posture  of  the  soul  and  its 
sense  toward  God,  "  1  only  desire  .such  strength  and  such 
assistances  from  thee,  to  u.se  them  for  thee,  for  thy  own 
work  ;"  when  we  are  ready  to  put  such  a  dedication,  such 
an  inscription,  upon  ever\-act  that  we  design  to  do  by  such 
a  received  power,  "  To' thee,  O  Lord;  Holiness  to  the 
Lord ;  I  only  desire  thy  influences,  that  1  may  do  thy  work, 
and  be  to  the  best  purpose  serviceable  to  thj'name  and  in- 
tere.st  in  my  sphere  and  .station;"  with  such  a  dispo.>-itioii 
as  this  we  may  expect  the  communication  of  the  SpLiit  to 
be  most  certainly  connected. 

Thus  you  see  proved,  how  it  doth  belong  unto  the  state 
of  living  Christians,  as  a  duty  proper  thereto,  to  walk  ia 
the  Spirit ;  or  what  there  is  of  duty,  with  which  the  com- 
munications of  the  Spirit  towards  our  walking  in  it  are 
connected. 

Now  by  way  of  use,  we  have  several  things  to  infer  from 
all  this. 

Inference  1.  Then  if  we  do  not  walk  in  the  Spirit,  it 
must  needs  be  our  own  fault,  that  we  embrace  not  the 
privilege  that  is  offered,  and  do  not  the  duties  required. 
It  is  fit  we  should  own  it  as  our  own  fault,  and  charge  it 
where  it  ought  to  lie. 

But  it  may  perhaps  here  be  objected;  That  all  these 
things  that  have  been  mentioned,  as  so  many  parts  of  duty 
in  order  to  our  obtaining  the  needful  communications  of 
the  Spirit,  are  themselves  the  Spirit's  operations  ;  and  how 
can  they  then  be  pre-requisites  unto  our  obtaining  such 
communications  of  the  Spirit"?     To  this  we  say, 

1.  That  they  are  requisite  unto  further  communica- 
tions, such  as  we  shall  still  have  further  use  for  and  need 
of  in  the  continued  course  of  our  walking.  And  it  is  most 
highly  congruous  unto  the  royalty  of  the  Divine  bountj', 
to  rew'ard  what  is  done  by  his  own  vouchsafement.  It  is 
his  own  rule  and  measure,  that  to  them  w  hich  have  it  shall 
be  given,  Luke  viii.  18.  They  that  have,  shall  have  more. 
He  gives  more  grace  upon  humility.  James  iv.  6.  He 
givelh  more  grace;  wherefore  he  saith,  he  resisteih  the 
proud,  but  giveth  grace  unto  the  humble.  Had  he 
given  no  grace  to  such  before  1  How  became  they  hum- 
ble 1  His  grace  made  them  so ;  but  then  he  gives  still 
more  grace. 

2.  These  are  so  the  operations  of  the  Spirit,  as  that  they 
are  our  acts  too.  It  is  not  the  Spirit  that  believes  and 
obeys,  but  it  helps  us  to  do  so ;  as  we  shall  have  further 
occasion  to  speak  hereafter. 

3.  In  such  actings  of  renewed  souls,  as  are  in  them- 
selves holy  and  gracious,  there  are  certain  previous  act- 
ings, that  lead  to  them,  and  which  may  and  usually  do  end 
in  them.  As  there  is  nothing  more  obvious  unto  the  ordi- 
nary experience  of  Christians,  than  that  they  many  times 
begin  a  duty,  as  to  pray  or  read,  to  hear  or  medilaie,  with 
very  indisposed  acts  ;  but  the  Spirit  comes  in  amidst  tlieir 
work:  oftentimes  they  have  no  such  discernible  assistance 
at  first,  when  they  begin  to  act.  Therefore  there  is  some- 
what previous  unto  that  which  is  strictly  to  be  considered 
as  a  holy  and  spiritual  act. 

4.  There  is  also  a  preventing  influence  or  grace  of  the 
Spirit,  unto  which  it  is  sai'c  to  attribute  even  those  previous 
tendencies  to  such  acts,  to  holy  and  gracious  acts.  But 
then  we  mu,?t  also  know,  that  this  is  not  always  eflicacious, 
so  as  to  end  in  holy  and  gracious  actions;  because  the 
Spirit  doth,  sometimes  from  sovereignty,  but  more  ordi- 
narily from  paternal  justice,  retire  and  withdraw  itself, 
when  those  first  overtures  are  not  complied  with.  As  is 
manifest  from  its  being  intimated  to  retire  and  withdraw 
upon  being  grieved,  being  resisted,  being  vexed  :  as  we 
must  suppose  it  to  be,  when  it  is  not  duly  complied  with 
in  tl'.e  applications  it  makes  to  the  spirits  even  of  renewed 
persons  themselves  ;  for  they,  such  as  "  live  in  the  Spirit," 
are  the  subject  of  our  present  discourse. 

And  in  speaking  to  you  of  these  previous  tendencies 
unto  good  and  holy  actions,  (which  it  is  fit  we  should  at- 
txibut!e  unto  tlie  Spirit  of  Grod,  when  we  find  any  thing  of 


551 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT 


Serm.  XVII. 


them ;  though  it  doth  not  work  in  that  overpowering  waj', 
as  where  it  puts  forth  its  efficacious  influence  in  order  to 
some  holy  and  spiritual  act  to  be  done,)  I  shall  speak  by 
way  of  inquiry  and  demand  :  that  I  may  the  more  engage 
conscience,  acid  set  it  on  work  to  judge  in  the  ease  between 
God  and  us ;  whether,  if  we  be  destitute  of  such  assist- 
ances of  the  Spirit,  as  the  exigency  of  our  case  calls  for,  it 
is  not  to  be  imputed  to  our  manifest  neglect  of  somewhat 
that  we  might  hav^e  done"?  Not,  that  we  might  have  done 
of  ourselves,  neither;  for  we  cannot  of  ourselves  so  much 
as  move  a  finger,  or  stir  a  foot;  but  that  by  a  preventing 
influence,  in  which  the  Spirit  was  beforehand  with  us,  we 
could  have  done"?  Whether,  if  we  had  tried,  we  should 
not  have  found  we  might  have  done  such  and  such  things, 
that  wouki  have  been  in  a  fair  tendency  unto  those  opera- 
tions or  actions  that  are  in  themselves  strictly  and  formally 
holy  and  gracious  1  Let  us  therefore  commune  a  little 
with  our  own  consciences,  upon  such  heads  as  these. 

1.  Have  we  not  omitted  to  reflect  and  take  notice  of 
the  way  of  our  own  walking,  so  as  to  bring  the  matter  to 
a  disquisition"?  Can  I  be  said  in  my  ordinary  course  to 
walk  in  the  Spirit  1  You  know,  reflection  is  a  thing  com- 
mon to  a  Christian  with  another  man.  It  is  the  privilege 
of  the  reasonable  spirit  of  man,  that  it  can  reflect  upon  it- 
self: it  is  a  rational  sun,  that  can  invert  its  beams,  and 
turn  them  inwards.  The  bodily  eye  cannot  do  so,  it  can- 
not see  itself:  but  our  mind  can  see  itself,  and  turn  in  its 
beams  to  look  in  upon  itself.  If  we  did  apply  ourselves 
to  do  so,  might  we  not  discern  whether  our  way  be  trans- 
acted so,  as  that  they  can  say,  "  This  is  walking  in  the 
Spirit,  this  looks  like  the  Spirit  1"  We  might  surely  dis- 
cern, whether  our  works  can  be  said  to  be  wrought  in 
God ;  an  expression  we  have  formerly  taken  notice  of 
But  do  not  we  neglect  even  to  do  thisi  to  survey  our  own 
way,  and  to  consider  with  our  own  selves,  "  Is  my  course 
like  walking  in  the  Spirit  1"  It  will  be  of  no  small  service 
to  put  the  question  to  ourselves  often.  Is  it  so,  yea  or  nol 
am  I  to  approve  and  like  my  way,  or  to  disapprove  it  1 

2.  Might  we  not  be  often  comparing  our  walking  with 
that  of  others  1  As  is  ttsual  with  them  that  walk  together, 
to  measure  with  one  another.  They  that  are  behind,  take 
notice  of  such  and  such  that  are  far  before  them,  and  there- 
upon mend  their  pace,  and  make  after  with  more  expedi- 
tion. There  is  no  one  that  mends  his  course  of  walking, 
but  it  is  upon  an  apprehension  of  something  that  needs  to 
be  mended  :  and  therefore  that  reflection  is  needful,  that 
was  spoken  of  before ;  either  the  pace  was  not  quick 
enough,  or  not  regular  enough,  or  not  continued  enough. 
Besides  that  such  faults  in  our  walking  are  to  be  discerned 
by  comparing  with  the  rule,  referring  to  the  perfect  law  of 
liberty;  so  much  might  be  discovered  and  discerned,  by 
comparing  our  walk  with  the  more  spiritual  sort  of  Christ- 
ians. Sui'e  we  might  do  that,  if  we  would.  Might  we  not 
sometimes  set  such  and  such  persons  in  our  own  thoughts 
before  us,  and  think  with  ourselves.  What  a  spiritual  life 
does  such  a  man  live  !  How  strict  and  even  is  his  conver- 
sation !  How  manifest  is  it,  that  such  a  man  walks  with 
God,  and  lives  much  in  heaven !  Might  we  not  do  so,  and 
accordingly  mend  our  course  in  walking '1  For  God  hath 
set  up  such  eminent  Christians  to  be  examples  and  pat- 
terns to  others  ;  and  we  are  directed  "  so  to  walk,  as  we 
have  such  more  eminent  saints  for  our  example  ;  to  be  fol- 
lowers of  them,  as  they  are  of  Christ."  We  ought  to  do 
so.  When  we  compare  ourselves  only  with  ourselves,  we 
are  likely  to  get  no  instruction  by  it,  and  to  be  never  the 
wiser  for  that.  "  Those  that  compare  themselves  with 
themselves,  doing  so  only,  are  not  wise:"  they  never  learn 
any  thing.  But  comparing  ourselves  with  others,  then  w^e 
may  receive  profit  and  instruction  ;  and  they  may  be,  in 
the  very  view  of  their  walking,  a  seasonable  reproof  of  the 
carelessness,  and  remissness,  and  extravagancy  of  ours. 
And  what  would  it  be  to  consider  with  ourselves  some- 
times, what  even  and  happy  lives  do  such  and  such  live 
in  comparison  of  mine  !  I  am  weak,  and  they  are  strong; 
I  am  dull  and  dead  and  languid,  and  they  are  quick  and 
lively !  This  would  be  somewhat  in  an  apt  tendency  to- 
ward such  works  and  actions,  as  wherein  our  .spiritual 
walk  doth  more  directly  consist. 

3.  Do  we  not  neglect  to  consider  of  the  sadness  of  our 
case,  if  we  are  deserted  of  the  Spirit  ?    We  might  discern, 


that  it  is  not  so  with  us  as  it  is  with  others.  Might  we  not 
hereupon  sit  down  and  think,  "  How  sad  a  thing  it  is  to 
be  forsaken  of  that  blessed  Spirit,  or  even  not  to  have  it 
discern ibly  present !  toliave  that  Spirit,  that  doth  so  freely 
and  graciously  converse  with  some,  refuse  to  converse 
with  me!  and  so  to  be  out-gone  by  other  Christians,  and 
left  languishing  alone  !"  I  might  think,  that  this  is  not  a 
state  to  be  content  and  well  satisfied  in. 

4.  Do  we  not  neglect  to  contemplate  the  fulness  and 
plenitude  of  the  blessed  Spirit"? — that  when  we  find  that 
we  are  poor  and  indigent,  there  are  supplies  to  be  had  1 
Do  we  not  neglect  to  take  actual  knowledge  of  this"?  This 
is  a  tendency  to  that  faith  in  the  Spirit,  which  is  to  be 
acted  in  order  to  our  drawing  forth  its  communications : 
for  sure  I  must  have  the  object  of  my  faith  in  view,  before 
I  can  perform  an  act  of  faith  towards  it ;  I  cannot  act  faith 
upon  that  which  I  don't  think  of.  And  by  how^  much  the 
more  I  do  consider  the  plenitude,  and  liberality,  and  gra- 
ciousne-ss  of  this  blessed  Spirit,  so  much  the  more  I  see 
in  the  object  to  invite  and  draw  forth  an  act  of  faith  ;  and 
I  am  to  expect  the  Spirit  to  concur  in  this  way  in  order  to 
a  kind  of  vital  contract  that  I  come  to  have  v.'iih  it,  by 
which  I  actually  partake  of  and  draw  forth  influence  from 
it.  I  must  look  to  him,  in  whom  my  help  is.  They  look 
ed  unto  him,  and  were  lightened,  Ps.  xxxiv.  5.  A  general 
expression  of  the  gracious  influence  of  God  by  his  Spirit ; 
they  looked  to  him,  and  quick  and  lively  vital  influence 
was  given  in. 

5.  Do  we  not  neglect  the  business  of  self-excitation "? 
Surely  we  are  not  to  make  nothing  of  this  matter  of  stir- 
ring up  ourselves:  as  there  is  no  walking,  but  there  are 
some  essays  previous  thereto  ;  some  efforts,  before  a  man 
can  be  said  actually  to  have  walked  ;  a  conalus  or  apply- 
ing himself  thereto.  Unto  such  a.conalus  is  the  expression 
accommodate,  of  girding  up  our  loins  in  order  to  our  spi- 
ritual walk.  1  Pet.  i.  13.  Gird  up  the  loins  of  your  minds, 
be  sober,  and  hope  to  the  end,  &c.  If  men  design  a  walk, 
they  do  accinsere  se,  they  put  themselves  into  a  ready  pos- 
ture for  it.  So  we  might  be  doing  in  order  to  our  receiv- 
ing the  Spirit's  further  influence;  though  as  was  said,  we 
don't  do  this  of  ourselves,  as  we  can  do  nothing  without 
help;  yet  we  should  find  that  this  is  a  help  always  afford- 
ed us,  and  wherein  God  is  still  beforehand  with  us,  and 
which,  if  his  helping  hand  were  accepted  in  these  things, 
might  lead  us  further  unto  those  wherein  our  walking  in 
the  Spirit  doth  more  formally  consist.  And  the  many  pas- 
sages that  we  meet  with  in  Scripture  of  this  thing,  certainly 
cannot  be  without  their  signification,  are  not  set  for  ciphers 
in  the  Bible.  As,  when  the  apostle  bids  Timothy  to  stir 
up  the  gift  that  was  in  him,  2  Tim.  i.  6.  uia^fjiruprir,  that 
emphatical  word.  And  we  are  not  to  think,  that  what  he 
saith  hath  reference  only  to  an  extraordinary  gift  conferred 
upon  him;  as  the  very  next  words  that  follow  show,  ver. 
7.  For  God  hath  not  given  us  the  Spirit  of  fear,  but  of 
power,  and  of  love,  and  of  a  sound  mind :  that  is,  the 
Spirit  in  such  operations  wherein  he  is  common  to  Christ- 
ians ;  though  very  likely  there  was  a  fuller  measure  of 
that  whichdid  attend  that  ordinance  of  the  imposition  of 
hands,  whereof  the  former  verse  speaks ;  according  as  a 
greater  measure  was  required  unto  the  greater  work  of  an 
evangelist  above  that  of  an  ordinary  Christian,  even  a 
greater  measure  of  special  grace,  or  sanctifying  influence. 
This  the  apostle  would  have  Timothy  to  bloic  up  into  a 
coal,  as  the  word  signifies,  to  make  the  fire  to  live  again. 
You  also  find  it  complained  of  as  an  accusation  in  Isa. 
Ixiv.  7.  that  no  man  stirred  up  himself  to  take  hold  of  the 
Lord.  There  is  such  a  striving  with  ourselves  in  order  to 
such  and  such  spiritual  works  and  actions  to  be  done.  The 
word  in  the  last-mentioned  place  is  very  emphatical,  it 
signifies  to  awake,  and  is  put  into  that  mood  which  in  the 
Hebrew  language  signifies  action  upon  oneself;  there  is 
no  one  that  goes  about  to  awake,  to  roiise  himself,  in  order 
to  the  taking  hold  of  God.  Somewhat  might  be  done,  and 
is  to  be  done  to  this  purpose.  Awake,  my  glory,  says  the 
Psalmist,  Ps.  Ivii.  8.  It  is  most  probable,  that  by  his 
glory  he  means  his  soul  ;  "  Awake,  O  my  soul,  do  not  lie 
drowsing  always,  thou  hast  great  work  to  do."  That  ex- 
pression, in  Col.  iii.  IG.  which  we  read,  admonishing  one 
another,  is  lavTai,  and  most  properly  signifies  admonishing 
ourselves.    "  Let  the  word  of  Christ  dwell  in  you  richly, 


Serm.  XVIII. 


IN  REFERENCE  TO  PARTICULAR  PERSONS. 


595 


— admonishing:  your  ownselves,  speaking  to  your  own- 
selves,  in  psalms,  and  hymns,  and  spiritual  songs,  singing 
with  grace  in  your  hearts  to  the  Lord.  He  does  not  say, 
"  We  have  nothing  to  do,  nothing  that  lies  upon  us."  Can 
we  never  commune  with  ourselves,  and  labour  to  awaken 
ourselves  1  We  might  expostulate  with  ourselves,  as  the 
Psalmist  in  Ps.  xlii.  5.  Why  art  thou  cast  down,  O  my 
soul  !  and  why  art  thou  so  disquieted  within  me  "?  As  in 
reference  to  want  of  comfort,  so  in  reference  to  indisposi- 
tion to  duty  we  have  much  more  cause  to  chide  ourselves; 
"  Why  dost  thou  lie  dead  and  asleep,  when  thou  hast  so 
great  work  to  do?  Arise,  and  walk  in  the  light  of  the 
Lord."  We  might  charge  ourselves,  urge  our  own  souls 
with  the  obligation  of  the  divine  law  which  we  are  under ; 
as  the  Psalmist  does  here,  "  Hope  thou  in  God,  for  I  shall 
yet  praise  him."  We  might  encourage  ourselves,  as  David 
in  that  great  distress  at  Ziklag  is  said  to  have  encouraged 
himself  in  the  Lord  his  God,  1  Sam.  xxx.  6.  And  we 
might  resolve  with  ourselves  upon  this  or  that  thing  to  be 
done.  I  will  love  thee,  O  Lord  my  strength,  Ps.  xviii.  L 
There  was  a  resolution  of  going  upon  such  an  exercise 
of  love  and  praise,  before  he  actually  engaged  in  the 
work  itself;  Now  I  will  go  and  apply  myself  to  a  love- 
commerce  with  God,  to  enlarge  and  expatiate  in  his  love 
and  praises.  We  might  say,  "  We  will  now  apply  our- 
selves to  the  business,  before  such  and  such  a  work  be 
actually  done."  Are  we  not  omissive  and  neglectful  in 
such  things '? 

6.  Might  we  not  be  more  frequent,  or  more  diligent,  se- 
rious, and  attentive,  in  our  waiting  upon  the  solemn  ordi- 
nances of  God  1  Many  of  us  might  come  oftener,  or  come 
sooner,  or  more  compose  ourselves  to  attention  when  we 
come  unto  those  means,  through  which  the  Spirit  of  God 
is  wont  to  work,  and  by  which  it  conveys  its  influence. 

7.  Might  we  not  be  much  oftener  in  our  closets,  and  re- 
tire more  frequently  1  Here  lies  the  too  little  observed 
cause  of  the  languishing  of  religion  among  us  at  this  day ; 
persons  let  the  bisiness  of  this  world  so  shutfle  oiU  their 
religion,  that  they  cannot  have  any  time  to  go  and  be  apart 
with  God  ;  and  they  are  left  so  much  alone,  because  they 
are  so  little  alone  :  as  was  the  saying  of  a  heathen,  "  I  am 
never  less  alone,  than  when  I  am  alone."  Many  a  time 
might  we  have  a  good  meeting  with  God  in  a  corner,  if 
we  should  allow  oarselves  to  be  a  little  there. 

8.  Might  we  not  be  more  conversant  at  such  chosen 
times  with  the  word  of  God,  than  we  arel  It  is  through 
that,  this  Spirit  breathes.  Thy  word  hath  quickened  me, 
Ps.  cxix.  50.  With  thy  precepts  thou  hast  quickened  me, 
ver.  93.  Through  that  word  which  was  of  his  own  inspir- 
ing, ypaibi]  Oeonvcvrnf,  /he  Spirit  choos.cs  Still  to  breathe.  And 
is  it  not  sad  to  think,  that  among  many  professors,  the 
Bible  should  lie  by  as  an  unprofitable  neglected  history 
about  the  house,  as  part  of  the  lumber  which  we  know  not 
how  to  make  use  of?  The  word  is  the  Spirit's  sword; 
and  the  corruptions  of  our  hearts,  that  are  the  great  hin- 
derances  in  our  walking,  need  hewing  many  times ;  but 
we  put  not  ourselves  under  the  stroke  of  the  sword  by 
which  this  should  be  done.  And  tn^ly,  if  any  of  us  should 
live  to  see  the  time  or  know  the  place,  where  it  might  be 
a  crime  to  have  a  Bible  in  our  houses,  we  should  then 
have  cause  to  reflect,  that  we  have  made  so  little  use  of  it 
when  we  had  it. 

9.  Might  we  not  be  more  in  prayer  upon  this  subject, 
that  is,  for  the  Spirit?  Might  we  not  insist  more  upon  it, 
and  plead  more  earnestly  for  spiritual  communications  ? 
We  are  told,  that  "God  will  give  his  Spirit  unto  them 
that  ask  him ;"  unto  his  children,  as  readily  as  we  will  give 
bread  to  ours,  rather  than  a  stone.  And  will  not  we  be- 
lieve it  ?  Or  if  we  do,  is  it  a  thing  so  little  worth  our  look- 
ing after,  to  have  our  souls  inhabited  and  animated  by  that 
blessed  Spirit,  to  have  it  reside  and  rule  in  us?  Is  this  so 
little  to  be  regarded  by  us  ?  I  believe  there  will  a  time 
come  with  many  professors,  that  are  now  very  much 
asleep,  when  they  shall  value  a  communication  of  the  Spi- 
rit more  than  any  one  enjoyment  whatsoever,  however  they 
are  now  absorbed  and  drunk  up  of  the  s^nrit  of  this  world. 
If  God  rend  and  take  away  all  from  us,  and  we  have  no- 
thing else  left,  nothing  to  trust  to,  but  what  we  have  from 
above ;  then  those  things  from  above  will  be  things  of 

*  Preached  April  17tli,  167S,  at  Cordwainer's  HalL  ' 


value.  And  what  would  we  desire  more,  than  to  be  so 
plainly  told  as  we  are,  that  we  shall  have  for  seeking  1 
Your  heart  shall  live,  that  do  seek  GckI,  Ps.  Ixix.  32. 
Would  you  have  plainer  words  ?  They  shall  praise  the 
Lord,  that  seek  him ;  your  heart  (their  heart)  shall  live 
for  ever,  Ps.  xxii.  26. 

10.  Might  we  not  more  abstain  from  the  things  that  we 
know  tend  to  grieve  the  Spirit  ?  Many  such  things  there 
are.  It  cannot  but  occur  to  our  own  knowledge  and 
thcjughts,  if  at  any  time  they  be  serious,  that  such  and 
such  things  (our  own  hearts  will  tell  as  what  they  are) 
must  needs  be  a  grief  to  the  Spirit  of  God  ;  and  if  I  allow 
myself  to  tread  such  and  .such  paths,  the  Spirit  and  I  shall 
grow  strangers  unto  one  another.  The  indulging  of  sen- 
sual desires,  allowing  a  liberty  unto  enormous  and  exor- 
bitant passions,  letting  out  our  spirits  to  the  mindine  of 
earthly  things  without  check  and  restraint,  falling  into 
jangles  and  contentions  with  others,  cherishing  our  own 
enmity  and  discontents  toward  such  and  such  persons,  or 
upon  such  and  such  occasions.  How  do  we  think,  that 
that  pure  and  holy  and  blessed  Spirit  will  inhabit  so  im- 
pure and  licentious  and  unpeaceable  brea.sts  as  ours  are  1 
The  letting  out  our  thoughts  and  affections  to  vanity,  .so  as 
only  to  be  in  a  disposition  to  mind  trifles  and  converse 
with  them,  cannot  but  produce  a  great  strangeness.  Don't 
you  know,  that  there  is  many  a  serious  man  would  forsake 
your  compan)',  if  he  saw  that  you  were  in  no  dispo.vition 
to  mind  any  thing  that  was  serious ;  and  that  to  talk  of 
nothing  but  toys  and  trifles  was  pleasing  and  grateful  to 
yon  ?  Serious  men  would  leave  you  upon  this,  and  think 
yon  unsuitable  company  for  them. 


SERMON  xvrn.* 

Inference  2.  In  the  great  business  of  tlie  Christian 
life,  it  is  not  the  Spirit  that  doth  all,  but  there  is  a  part 
incumbent  upon  us.  This  is  manifest,  when  it  is  said  to 
belong  to  us,  if  we  are  Christians  indeed,  to  "  walk  in  the 
Spirit."  Then  the  business  of  the  Christian  life  is  not  to 
be  done  by  the  Spirit  alone,  but  we  have  a  part  to  do 
therein.  And  it  is  not  unnecessary  to  insist  a  little  upon 
this.  I  do  not  reckon  this  necessary,  merely  for  the  con- 
futation of  their  error  Avho  think  otherwise ;  for  I  cannot 
think  there  are  any  among  us  that  are  of  a  contrary 
opinion;  though  some  such  there  have  been,  and  probably, 
enough  are  in  the  world,  who  have  thought  it  to  be  a  great 
piece  of  perfection  to  be  aspired  unto  by  Christians,  to  be 
merely  passive  in  the  business  of  religion  ;  and  that  by 
how  much  the  more  perfect  they  are,  so  much  the  more 
passive,  and  do  so  much  the  less  in  religion  :  but  I  sus- 
pect not  any  here  to  be  of  that  mind.  It  is  upon  a  more 
practical  account,  that  this  is  fit  to  be  insisted  on:  for 
though  we  have  no  such  formed  apprehensions,  yet  it  is 
too  plain  that  most  carry  the  matter  as  if  they  had  nothing 
to  do.  And  therefore  I" shall  urge  some  considerations  to 
evince  what  I  suppose  to  be  already  our  common  belief, 
that  there  is  a  part  incumbent  upon  us  ;  to  enliven  a  little 
that  belief  in  our  souls,  and  that  we  may  be  stirred  up  to 
walk  and  act  more  agreeably  to  it. 

1.  The  very  notion  of  walking  in  tlie  text,  doth  most 
strongly  exclaim  against  the  supposition  of  our  having 
nothing  to  do.  You  have  been  formerly  told,  that  if  a 
man  should  roll  a  stone,  or  drag  a  log,  neither  of  them 
would  be  said  to  walk.  Walking  is  a  voluntary,  spon- 
taneous motion,  IVom  nn  internal,  and  some  way  or  other 
self-directing,  principle ;  when  we  design  the  motion  and 
choose  the  way  wherein  we  are  to  walk,  being  enabled  to 
choose  aright.  And  bv  how  much  the  more  the  Spirit 
puts  forth  its  influence  "in  order  to  our  walking,  so  much 
the  more  are  we  at  liberlv ;  with  so  much  the  more  spon- 
taneity and  activitvand  visjour  do  we  go  on  in  that  course 
unto  which  it  prompts.  Where  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  is, 
there  is  libertv,  2  Cor.  iii.  17.  And,  I  will  run  the  way  of 
thy  commandments,  when  thou  shalt  enlarge  my  heart, 
Psal-  cxix.  32. 


556 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT 


Serm.  XVIII. 


2.  It  is  to  be  ar^ied  by  an  induction  of  such  particulars, 
as  we  have  formerly  instanced  in,  that  we  have  a  part  in- 
cumbent upon  us.  Concerning  which  of  them  would  we 
say,  that  they  are  not  our  part "?  That  which  begins  our 
course,  repentance  towards  God,  is  not  that  our  work  1 
That,  by  which  we  derive  strength  and  vigour  for  that 
course  of  holy  motion,  that  faith  which  is  continually  to 
supply  us  from  the  fountain  with  influence,  is  not  this  in- 
cumbent upon  us  1  Is  it  not  our  part  to  resign  and  yield 
ourselves,  and  to  obey  the  influences  and  dictates  of  the 
blessed  Spirit  of  God  1  Can  we  then  yet  say  or  think,  that 
we  have  nothing  to  do,  or  carry  as  if  we  had  not  1 

But  it  may  be  said,  that  these  are  the  works  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,  to  repent,  to  believe,  to  resign,  to  obey,  and 
the  like. 

It  is  very  true  indeed.  Br.t  what  hinders,  that  even  in 
reference  to  one  and  the  same  work  the  Spirit  should  have 
its  part,  and  we  our  part  1  As  when  a  musician  plays  upon 
an  instrument,  hath  not  the  musician  and  the  instrument 
each  of  them  a  contribution  towards  the  melody  1  The 
strings  don't  sound  without  being  touched,  nor  is  that 
sound  made  by  touching  any  thing  but  those  strings.  We 
cannot  say  in  that  case,  that  the  musician  and  the  instru- 
ment have  each  of  them  so  their  part,  as  that  one  note  is 
from  the  musician  and  another  note  from  the  instrument; 
but  both  the  musician  and  the  instrument  contribute  to 
every  note.  And  so  it  is  plainly  here,  as  to  all  the  holy 
and  spiritual  motions  and  actions  of  a  renewed  soul ;  our 
spirits  and  the  blessed  Spirit  of  God  have  a  kind  of  co- 
operation in  reference  to  every  particular  act ;  which 
plainly  shows  that  we  have  our  part  all  along,  and  much 
more  an  active  part  than  that  similitude  we  used  can 
serve  to  represent. 

3.  Were  it  not  so,  that  we  have  such  a  part  incumbent 
upon  us,  all  the  precepts  that  contain  in  them  the  duty 
which  is  charged  upon  us,  (that  is,  which  we  ought  to  call 
duty,  because  they  are  precepts  in  which  it  is  contained,) 
would  be  mere  nullities;  and  so  that  duty  would  be  no 
duty.  It  would  indeed  evacuate  and  nullify  the  whole  law 
of  God,  and  all  the  precepts  that  are  in  his  book  of  one 
kind  or  another.  For  if  we  have  no  part  belonging  to  us, 
then  his  precepts  obliges  us  to  nothing;  and  that  which 
obliges  to  nothing,  is  no  obligation :  and  so  it  were  an  ap- 
prehension, in  the  tendency  of  it,  directly  subversive  of 
the  whole  i'rame  of  the  Divine  government:  all  his  laws 
over  us  would  carry  no  signification  with  them  at  all. 
Especially  what  sense  could  we  make  of  such  laws  as 
these,  that  do  in  general  express  the  whole  of  a  Christian's 
course"?  This,  for  instance,  in  the  text,  "Walk  in  the 
Spirit "?"  Which  you  have  with  so  much  solemnity  intro- 
duced in  another  verse  of  this  same  chapter  ;  "  This  1  say, 
Walk  in  the  Spirit;  and  ye  shall  not  fulfil  the  lusts  of  the 
flesh,"  ver.  16.  This  I  say;  here  would  be  great  solem- 
nity used  for  no  purpose,  the  precept  w^ould  carry  no  sig- 
nificnuon  of  a  precept  at  all.  And  so  of  other  such  like 
scriptures.  Be  strong  in  the  Lord,  and  in  the  power  of 
his  might,  Eph.  vi.  10.  Be  strong;  what  doth  that  say  to 
us  1  what  doth  it  mean  1  Can  we  tell  how  to  make  our- 
selves strong,  and  by  the  Lord's  strength  1  It  plainly 
shows,  that  regenerate  ones  have  somewhat  to  do,  upon  the 
doin?  whereof  they  may  expect  the  communications  of 
the  Spirit.  So,  Eph.  v.  18.  Be  ye  filled  with  the  Spirit, 
What  a  strange  thing  were  it  to  give  us  such  a  precept  as 
that,  that  we  should  be  filled  with  the  Spirit,  if  we  had 
nothing  to  do  in  order  thereto  !  It  doth  indeed  manifestly 
imply  the  Spirit's  communicativeness,  its  aptness  to  com- 
municate itself  in  all  suitable  and  needful  influences:  and 
if  we  should  not  understand  it  so,  the  words  would  carry 
but  such  a  sound,  such  a  faint  sound  with  them,  as  those 
that  are  supposed  to  be  spoken  by  some  charitable  man, 
that  should  say  to  one  in  necessity,  naked,  and  destitute 
of  daily  food,  "Be  thou  warm,  be  thou  filled;"  but  yet 
give  nothing  needful  for  the  body,  James  ii.  15,  16.  And 
what !  shall  we  dare  to  imagine,  that  the  Spirit  of  God, 
that  Spirit  of  love  and  grace,  should  indite  such  words  as 
these,  "  Be  ye  filled  with  the  Spirit,"  and  yet  be  altogether 
unapt  to  give  that  which  should  be  needful  to  the  soul  1  It 
doth  plainlvhold  forth  therefore  the  communicativeness  of 
the  Holy  Ghost.  But  then  it  doth  hold  forth  also  a  part 
incumbent  upon  us,  somewhat  to  be  done  by  us,  where- 


upon we  are  to  expect  such  a  communication,  and  in  a 
stated  course ;  and  not  to  expect  it  otherwise,  or  upon  other 
terms;  whatever  it  may  arbitrarily  and  from  a  sovereignty 
and  royalty  of  grace  do,  as  it  many  times  doth. 

4.  Otherwise  all  the  holy  and  gracious  principles,  all 
the  graces  of  the  Spirit,  were  put  into  the  soul  in  vain; 
they  were  needless  and  useless  things.  For  pray,  what  use 
can  we  conceive  them  to  be  of,  but  only  to  dispose  the 
soul  for  holy  and  gracious  actings  1  And  then  sure  it  must 
have  something  to  do.  The  frame  and  shape  of  every 
thing  doth  discover,  even  to  a  man's  eye,  what  it  was  made 
for:  the  very  shape  of  this  or  that  utensil  shows  its  use, 
and  what  purposes  it  will  serve  for.  So  the  whole  frame 
of  the  new  creature,  all  the  several  principles  that  are  in- 
gredient into  the  constitution  of  it,  plainly  show  what  they 
are  for.  And  the  Spirit  of  God  doth  expressly  tell  us, 
Eph.  ii.  10.  We  are  his  workmanship,  created  in  Christ 
Jesus  unto  good  works,  which  he  hath  before  ordained  that 
we  should  walk  in  them.  "  We  are  his  workmanship:" 
this  is  a  piece  of  work  wrought  and  done  upon  the  soul, 
on  purpose  to  fit  him  for  the  doing  of  good  works  :  it  is  a 
very  strange  thing  if  yet  it  should  have  nothing  to  do.  We 
might  as  well  suppose,  that  the  apt  shape  and  frame  of  this 
or  that  instrument  did  contribute  nothing  to  the  use ;  a 
musician  might  as  well  play  upon  a  log  as  upon  a  lute. 
Why  should  there  be  that  curious  workmanship,  as  there 
is  wrought  in  every  renewed  soul,  if  all  those  principles 
are  to  lie  dead,  and  there  is  no  work  to  be  done  by  such 
a  soul  1  What  is  the  grace  of  repentance  for,  but  that  the 
soul  might  turn  to  Godl  What  is  self-denial  for,  but  to 
take  it  off  from  self?  mortification  towards  this  world,  but 
to  loose  and  unhinge  the  soul  from  that,  that  so  it  may 
be  in  a  posture  disengaged  and  free  for  the  course  of  holy 
spiritual  motion  1  What  is  love  for,  but  that  it  may  move 
vigorously  and  delightfully  1  fear,  but  that  it  may  move 
regularly!  humility,  but  that  it  may  move  equally?  pa- 
tience, but  that  it  may  move  steadily,  and  so  as  not  to  be 
diverted  by  the  evils  that  it  meets  with  in  the  way  1  Take 
every  particular  grace  severally,  or  take  the  entire  frame 
of  all  together,  and  the  very  frame  shows  us  what  the  new 
creature  was  for,  that  it  was  not  to  do  nothing,  and  there- 
fore sure  that  there  is  somewhat  to  be  done. 

5.  Were  it  not  so,  this  great  absurdity  would  follow, 
that  not  only  the  Spirit  of  God  was  to  be  the  agent,  (which 
indeed  is  itself  absurd  enough,)  but  that  that  alone  is  to  be 
denominated  the  agent  of  every  work  that  is  to  be  done. 
Not  only  might  it  be  truly  said,  that  the  Spirit  of  God  re- 
pents and  believes;  but  that  it  alone  doth  so;  and  conse- 
quenily  that  there  was  no  believer  in  all  the  world,  no 
penitent,  no  obedient  person  ;  but  only  that  these  names 
ought  to  be  given  to  the  Spirit  of  God 

6.  The  matter  is  hence  plain,  that  the  Scriptures  doth 
manifestly  say,  that  such  and  such  things  are  done  by  the 
people  of  God.  It  is  owned  concerning  them,  that  they 
"do  believe,  they  have  believed,  they  have  received  the 
word,"  and  the  like ;  they  have  "  turned  to  the  Lord  from 
dumb  idols,"  they  have  had  "  their  labour  of  love,"  their 
approved  works.  I  know  thy  works,  I  know  by  way  of 
approbation  that  thou  hast  done  so  and  so.  And  it  be- 
ing plain,  that  they  are  said  to  be  the  doers  of  such  and 
such  actions ;  either  they  do  them  as  duty,  as  things  in- 
cumbent upon  them  to  do,  or  not :  if  as  duty,  we  have  what 
we  seek  :  if  not,  then  all  such  persons  doing  such  works 
must  be  said  to  have  done  more  than  their  duty  :  but  cer- 
tainly our  own  hearts  will  tell  us,  if  we  consider,  that  do 
what  we  can  we  always  fall  abundantly  short. 

These  things  make  it  plain  enough,  that  there  is  a  part 
incumbent  upon  us  to  do,  and  that  it  is  not  the  business  of 
the  Spirit  of  God  to  do  all,  in  the  maUer  of  the  Christian 
life.  It  was  necessary  to  insist  upon  this;  because  if  we 
do  not  admit  the  principle  into  our  hearts,  however  it  may 
hover  in  our  minds  and  notional  judgment,  we  can  never 
admit  into  our  hearts  any  conviction  of  our  neglects  of 
God,  nor  any  impression  of  the  many  exhortations  and  in- 
centives that  we  have  unto  greater  diligence  in  the  business 
of  our  Christian  walk.  We  shall  but  faintly  charge  our- 
selves, and  easily  put  ofl'all  with  saying,  the  Spirit  of  God 
did  not  act ;  and  tb  ink  ourselves  very  innocent  and  harmless 
all  the  while,  though  we  only  trifle  and  h)iter  in  the  great 
business  of  Christianiiy  all  our  days.     If  we  own  the  prin- 


Serm.  XVIII. 


IN  REFERENCE  TO  PARTICULAR  PERSONS. 


557 


ciple,  that  we  ought  to  be  doing  and  walking,  as  we  pro- 
fess ourselves  to  be  living  Christians  ;  why  do  we  eariv 
the  matter,  as  if  we  believed  it  not  1  why  do  we  stand  still, 
as  if  we  had  nothing  to  do,  as  if  we  could  not  find  our 
hands'?  Alas!  how  little  is  there  among  us  of  that  which 
ought  to  go  under  ihe  name  of  Chris:ian  walking!  How 
little  can  we  find  in  ourselves,  upon  a  serious  review  of 
the  things  done  by  us  from  day  lo  day,  concerning  which 
we  can  say,  "  These  were  a  real  part  of  the  Christian  walk, 
and  which  ought  to  be  referred  thither !"  Surely,  while  we 
so  slothfully  sit  still  and  do  nothing,  it  is  very  needful  we 
should  be  put  in  mind  and  have  it  urged  upon  us,  that  we 
have  not  nothing  to  do  ;  tliat  we  cannot  sit  still,  as  having 
no  business,  but  only  as  those  that  mind  it  not. 

Inference  3.  We  may  further  infer  hence,  not  only  our 
obligation  to  a  part  incumbent  upon  us,  but  also  our  impo- 
tency  to  walk  as  we  should  alone.  If  it  belongs  to  us  as 
living  Christians,  both  as  our  privilege  and  duty,  to  walk 
in  the  Spirit ;  both  do  argue,  that  we  cannot  walk  alone  as 
we  ought,  that  v.^e  cannot  walk  acceptably  and  so  as  to 
please  God,  by  ourselves.  Such  a  charge  as  this  laid  upon 
us,  "  to  walk  in  the  Spirit,"  carries  a  plain  signification, 
how  incompetent  Ave  are  for  managing  the  course  of  our 
Christian  walk  without  the  Spirit.  They  that  walk  by 
the  power  of  another,  being  acted  and  sujiportcd  and 
borne  up  ;  though  their  walking  imports  that  they  do  some- 
what ;  yet  plainly  show,  by  their  walking  so  sustained, 
their  impotency  to  steer  that  course  of  themselves.  And 
it  is  needful,  that  the  conviction  of  this,  too,  do  sink  a 
great  deal  deeper  with  us  than  commonly  it  doth  ;  that  we 
?an  do  nothing  alone  of  the  proper  business  that  apper- 
tains to  the  Christian  life  :  not  so  much  as  move  a  step,  or 
draw  a  breath,  or  think  a  thought ;  not  so  much  as  think 
any  thing,  as  of  ourselves,  2  Cor.  iii.  5. 

This  also  is  a  thing  that  is  easily  assented  to,  as  soon  as 
we  hear  it:  but  there  is  a  very  great  difference  to  be  made, 
between  assenting  to  such  a  thing  as  an  opinion,  that  we 
think  carries  with  it  a  very  plausible  pretence  for  our  own 
sloth,  and  having  ourselves  possessed  with  a  deep  and  se- 
rious sense  of  it,  as  a  thing  plainly  spoke  out  to  us  by  the 
word  of  God,  and  whereof  we  find  an  inward  experience 
in  our  own  souls.  We  are  very  cai  efully  lo  distinguish 
between  these  two.  It  is  a  very  common  pretence  among 
people,  that  they  can  do  nothing,  no  good  thing,  without 
God,  they  are  impotent  to  every  thing  that  may  have  any 
tendency  to  their  own  salvation  or  to  his  glory  ;  most  pro- 
fess to  believe  this,  as  soon  as  they  hear  the  words  spoken ; 
but  it  is  too  apparent  by  the  course  that  most  hold,  that 
this  is  only  an  opinion  taken  up,  as  supposed  to  carry  a 
very  favourable  aspect  upon  their  own  sloth;  and  not  that 
really  they  are  of  this  faith.  It  is  but  a  mere  assumed 
opinion  with  them  ;  not  a  part  of  their  faith,  nor  a  piece  of 
their  experience  concerning  themselves,  "that  without 
God  they  can  do  nothinsr." 

It  is  plain  enough,  that  persons  may  hold  things  as  an 
opinion,  that  have  no  influence  at  all  to  govern  their  prac- 
tice, notwithstanding  that  they  are  things  in  their  own  na- 
ture never  so  practical,  or  that  ever  so  much  concern  prac- 
tice. And  it  is  of  some  necessity  to  us  to  consider,  how 
impotent  and  ineffectual  a  thing  mere  opinion  is  to  govern 
a  man's  practice.  And  to  make  way  for  this;  that  you 
may  see  that  men  hold  this  doctrine  of  their  own  impoten- 
cy unto  any  spiritual  good  but  as  an  opinion,  without  ever 
understanding  the  grounds  of  it,  or  without  ever  consider- 
ing of  what  use  it  should  be,  or  what  course  they  are  to 
take  agreeable  to  such  an  apprehension;  we  shall  show  a 
little  the  insuthciencyof  mere  opinion  to  regulate  practice. 
Plain  it  is,  that  many  things  that  are  in  their  own  nature 
most  practical,  men  have  opinions  about,  which  never  in- 
fluence their  practice  at  all.  It  is  a  common  thing  for  men 
in  the  whole  course  of  their  lives  to  rim  counter  to  an 
opinion  which  they  hold  ;  as  I  might  instance  in  sundry  of 
the  greatest  things  that  one  can  think  of  Men  are  of  this 
opinion,  that  God  is  the  supreme  and  rightful  Governor  of 
the  world  ;  and  yet  have  his  laws  and  aiUhority  all  their 
days  in  contempt.  They  are  of  this  opinion,  that  God  is 
omniscient,  knows  their  hearts,  and  beholds  all  their  ways; 
and  yet  never  care  to  approve  themselves  to  his  eye  in  the 
temperof  th  ir  spirits  orthe  course  of  their  walking.  They 
are  of  opinion,  that  all  men  as  sinners  are  naturally  liable 


to  the  wrath  and  justice  of  God  ;  and  yet  never  go  about 
to  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come.  They  are  of  opinion,  that 
there  is  a  judgment  to  come,  and  a  state  of  retribution  after 
this  life  for  what  hath  been  done  in  it ;  and  yet  never  mako 
it  their  concern  to  be  sure,  that  they  are  not  miserable 
hereafter,  cast  in  judgment,  doomed  to  perdition,  but  ad- 
judged to  live.  Mr-n  in  their  whole  course,  even  all  their 
days,  run  directly  contrary  to  their  own  opinion,  in  the 
greatest  and  most  important  things  that  can  be  imagined  ; 
and  that  shows  that  it  is  a  mere  opinion:  for  a  real, 
thorough  belief  of  so  great  and  important  things,  would 
certainly  make  other  kind  of  work  in  their  hearts  and  lives. 

And  because  it  is  so  plain  in  the  general,  that  men  may 
run  all  their  time  against  their  opinion,  and  guide  their 
practice  quite  contrary  to  their  opinion  about  practical 
things  ;  it  concerns  us  here  to  be  a  little  more  strict  in  our 
inquiry,  whether  it  be  not  so  ia  this  particular  ca^e ;  that 
is,  that  men  do  hold  the  doctrine  of  their  im.putence  for 
spiritual  good  but  as  an  opinion,  which  they  the  more 
readily  comply  with,  because  they  think  it  looks  with  a 
very  favourable  aspect  upon  that  slothful,  lazy  coui-se, 
which  it  is  most  agreeable  to  them  to  hold,  and  which  they 
are  very  loth  to  alter.  In  this  case,  it  doth  them  never  the 
more  good  for  being  a  true  opinion;  but  the  mischief  to 
them  is,  that  they  hold  it  but  as  an  opinion  and  no  other- 
wise :  which  wiil  appear,  if  j'ou  consider  four  things.  If 
they  held  such  a  truth  otherwise  than  as  an  opinion,  if 
they  believed  it  with  a  real  faith  and  experienced  the  truth 
of  it ;  it  must,  in  conjunction  with  the  things  that  I  am  to" 
mention,  make  strange  impressions  upon  their  .spirits,  and 
alterations  in  their  course,  beyond  what  it  is  found  lo  do. 
For, 

1.  Together  with  this  apprehension,  that  they  are  im- 
potent, and  cannot  of  themseh'es  walk  as  they  should,  so 
as  to  please  God,  they  also  know,  or  might  easily  know, 
that  they  do  not  walk  so,  as  to  have  reason  to  think,  that 
God  is  pleased  with  their  walking.  They  may  find  upon  a 
very  easy  reflection,  that  they  do  not  walk  in  the  Spirit: 
one  would  think  it  impossible  for  many  of  the  looser  sort 
of  the  professors  of  Christianity  to  resist  the  evidence  of 
so  plain  a  thing,  if  thev  ask  themselves  the  question  ; 
"  Can  I  say,  my  cour.se  and  ivalking  is  like  walking  in  the 
Spirit,  such  as  that  I  dare  entitle  the  Spirit  to  it  as  its  au- 
thor!"  What!  is  the  Spirit  the  author  of  your  minding 
earthly  things  so  intently?  of  seeking  yourselves  7  of  cast- 
ing away  the  thoughts  of  God  and  eternity  and  the  other 
world  1  And  is  not  this  thy  walk  1"  Must  not  many  say 
so?  Let  that  then  be  considered  by  them  that  say,  they 
cannot  walk  so  as  to  please  God  without  the  Spirit ;  must 
they  not  also  be  forced  to  say,  that  they  do  not  walk  in  the 
Spirit  1     And  then  add  to  that, 

'2.  The  consideration  whither  these  things  tend.  While 
they  acknowledge,  that  to  walk  so  as  God  may  be  pleased, 
without  the  Spirit,  is  not  possible ;  that  their  pre>ent 
course  is  not  a  walking  in  the  Spirit ;  and  along  with  these, 
that  it  is  absolutely  necessary  for  them  to  walk  in  such  a 
course,  as  that  God  may  be  pleased  with  their  walking; 
certainly  it  would  put  a  reasonable,  considering  soul  into 
a  distress,  if  he  would  but  lay  these  things  together.  "  I 
cannot  walk  as  I  should  without  the  Spirit,  and  I  find  I  do 
not  walk  according  to  the  Spirit,  yet  it  is  necessary  forme 
that  I  should  do  so."  What  should  be  the  end  of  thisi 
Must  it  not  needs  be  to  put  the  spirit  of  a  man,  if  l^e  will 
reasonably  consider  it,  into  the  greatest  agonies  imagina- 
ble? None  pretend  to  hold  this  doctrine  of  their  own  im- 
potency, but  the  same  persons  will  say  that  they  hoht  too, 
that  it  is  necessary  for  them  to  please  God  in  their  walk- 
ing. Now  while  no  suitable  impression  is  made,  no  lively 
concern  excited,  answerable  to  the  exigency  of  such  a 
case  ;  is  it  not  plain,  that  all  this  is  but  mere  opinion,  a 
hovering  opinion  and  no  morel  especially  if  we  should 
add  hereto  the  considering, 

3.  That  the  Spirit  is  not  tied  to  their  time;  and  that  no 
doubt  they  will  giant  also.  If  now  they  have  not  the  Spirit 
to  influence  their  walking,  and  enable  them  in  the  course 
of  it,  they  cannot  promise  themselves  that  they  sliall  have 
it  the  next  hour,  or  the  next  day,  or  the  next  vear. 

4.  They  know  withal,  that  thev  are  not  ma.'iters  of  their 
own  time;  and  they  don't  know  biU  that  their  time  may 
be  over  and  expired,  before  that  blessed  Spirit,  so  often 


558 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT 


Serm.  XIX 


neglected  and  slighted  and  resisted,  shall  ever  breathe  or 
do  any  effectual  work  upon  their  souls. 

These  are  things  all  of  them  as  obvious  as  that  other, 
that  they  are  of  themselves  impotent.  But  take  all  these 
things  together,  and  if  there  were  more  than  mere  opinion 
in  the  matter,  certainly  it  could  not  but  put  such  a  soul 
into  the  greatest  distress  imaginable.  "  What  shall  I  do  7 
what  shall  I  think  of  my  case  1  which  way  shall  I  turn 
myself?  The  way  wherein  I  walk  I  am  sure  cannot 
please  God ;  I  cannot  walk  better  without  his  Spirit ;  that 
Spirit  doth  not  breathe  or  move  in  me  in  order  to  my  bet- 
ter walking ;  I  cannot  command  that  Spirit ;  my  time  may 
shortly  be  over ;  I  may  be  dead  and  gone  out  of  this  world 
for  ought  I  know,  before  that  Spirit  ever  come  to  have 
any  acquaintance  with  my  spirit,  any  commerce  with  it, 
and  then  what  will  become  of  me  "?" 

All  this  I  urge  to  this  purpose,  that  it  may  be  taken  no- 
tice of  and  reflected  upon,  how  little  it  signifies  for  men 
to  have  such  an  opinion  of  their  own  impotency,  while  it 
is  an  opinion  and  no  more,  while  it  makes  no  impression 
and  has  no  suitable  effect.  If  it  were  firmly  believed,  it 
would  certainly  infer  this,  that  a  soul  that  finds  it  can  of 
itself  do  nothing,  would  be  put  upon  loud  and  importunate 
cries  to  him,  who  can  help  us  to  do  all,  and  who  must  do 
all,  that  is,  do  the  part  appertaining  to  him  in  all  and 
every  thing  that  is  to  be  done  by  us  in  order  to  our  eter- 
nal well-being.  But  to  lie  still  with  the  apprehension  that 
I  can  do  nothing,  when  (as  the  case  doth  signify)  if  I  can 
do  nothing  I  must  perish,  supposing  that  nothing  be  done 
by  a  higher  and  a  stronger  hand;  and  to  be  unconcerned 
whether  that  hand  ever  touch  my  heart,  ever  come  near 
me,  yea  or  no  ;  this  is  a  dreadful  and  a  monstrous  thing, 
and  might  make  men  amazed  at  themselves ;  that  they  can 
profess  to  believe  a  doctrine  that  carries  with  it  a  face  of 
so  much  terror  to  their  own  souls,  and  never  be  startled 
at  it ;  be  well  pleased  that  it  casts  a  favourable  aspect  upon 
their  sloth,  while  it  carries  a  most  frowning  one  upon 
their  safety  ;  unless  it  had  that  tendency  with  it,  (which  in 
most  it  hath  not,)  to  bring  men  upon  their  knees,  and  to 
set  them  on  crying  and  importuning  for  that  grace  and 
Spirit,  without  which  it  is  true  we  can  do  nothing,  and 
without  which  therefore  nothing  but  perishing  is  to  be 
looked  for. 


SERMON  XIX.* 

There  are  yet  some  further  inferences  remaining  from 
the  subject  we  have  been  upon. 

Inference  4.  Since  it  belongs  to  the  state  of  persons  liv- 
ing in  the  Spirit  to  walk  in  the  Spirit ;  then  we  have  great 
reason  to  admire  the  grace  of  the  Spirit,  that  renders  this 
a  possible  thing  to  us,  to  walk  under  its  constant  govern- 
ing influence.  But  this  I  shall  not  insist  upon,  because 
there  is  no  part  or  work  and  office  of  the  Holy  Ghost  in 
reference  to  the  spirits  of  men,  on  which  we  have  insisted 
already,  but  hath  given  us  some  occasion  to  reflect  upon 
its  wonderful  vouchsafement,  that  it  would  have  so  much 
to  do  with  such  as  we  are.  But  as  this  occasion  is  renewed 
to  us  of  considering  it,  we  should  renew  our  observation 
and  admiration  of  its  strange  condescension  in  this  thing. 
For  would  any  of  us  deign  to  be  obliged  to  have  from 
day  today  the  guiding  and  conducting  of  all  the  motions 
of  a  worm  1  And  we  do  not  need  to  be  told,  how  much 
less  considerable  we  are  in  reference  to  the  great  God  and 
the  blessed  Spirit,  than  any  the  most  despicable  worm  is 
to  us. 

Inference  5.  Since  it  belongs  unto  the  state  of  persons 
that  own  themselves  Christians,  or  to  live  in  the  Spirit; 
(for  to  own  Christianity,  and  to  pretend  to  a  life  in  the  Spi- 
rit, is  all  one  ;  those  that  profess  themselves  Christians,  do 
not  profess  themselves  dead  Christians,  but  living  ones  ;) 
since  it  belongs,  I  say,  to  such  to  walk  in  the  Spirit;  then 
we  may  too  plainly  collect,  that  there  are  very  many  going 
under  that  name,  that  walk  so,  as  doth  not  belong  to  the 
state  unto  which  they  pretend.  A  plain  and  sad  collec- 
tion !  as  the  apostle  speaks,  Phil.  iii.  18.  Many  walk,  as 
«  Preaclied  May  1,  1678. 


I  have  told  you  often,  and  now  tell  you  even  weeping,  as 
enemies  of  the  cross  of  Christ;  as  those  who  are  driving 
on  a  continual  hostility  against  Christianity,  and  the  de- 
sign for  which  Christ  was  crucified.  I  doubt  there  is  not 
less  cause  now  for  such  a  complaint,  but  only  less  sense. 
It  is  very  observable,  how  great  a  stress  is  laid  upon  the 
visible  decorum  of  a  Christian's  walk,  up  and  down  in 
Scripture ;  how  they  are  required  to  be  noted  that  walk 
disorderly;  how  earnestly  Christians  are  exhorted  and 
besought  to  walk  becomingly  and  laudably,  so  that  loveli- 
ness and  amiableness  might  appear  in  tlieir  walk.  I  (Paul) 
the  prisoner  of  the  Lord,  beseech  you,  that  ye  walk  wor- 
thy of  the  vocation  wherewith  ye  are  called,  Eph.  iv.  I. 
And  he  saith  to  the  Thessalonians,  1  Epist.  ii.  11,  12.  Ye 
know,  how  we  have  exhorted,  and  comforted,  (or,  encou- 
raged,) and  warned  every  one  of  you,  even  as  a  father 
doth  his  children  ;  that  they  walk  worthy  of  God,  who 
hath  called  you  unto  his  kingdom  and  glory.  And  in  the 
epistle  to  the  Colossians,  he  prays  on  the  behalf  of  them, 
as  we  find  him  elsewhere  praying  for  others,  (chap.  i.  10.) 
that  they  mightwalk  worthy  of  the  Lord  unto  all  pleasing  ; 
so  as  to  make  a  fair  representation  of  him  to  the  world, 
that  he  might  be  thought  well  of  among  men  for  the  sake 
of  them  that  bear  his  name  and  own  a  relation  to  him. 
And  so  to  walk,  that  is,  such  worthy  and  becoming  walk- 
ing, and  walking  in  the  Spirit,  do  manifestly  jriiply  one 
another.  Whatsoever  is  worthy,  honourable,  graceful  in 
the  conversation  of  Christians,  can  never  be  wanting,  if 
their  conversation  be  under  the  constant  government  and 
regulating  influence  of  this  Spirit.  And  if  the  conversa- 
tion of  any  be  otherwise  governed  in  the  general  course 
and  tenor  of  it,  it  is  plain  that  it  is  under  the  govern- 
ment of  some  other  principle.  Do  but  see,  as  to  this,  the 
proportionable  opposition  between  two  passages,  viz.  this 
of  the  text.  If  ye  live  in  the  Spirit,  walk  also  in  the  Spirit, 
and  that  in  Col.  iii.  7.  In  which  y-e  also  walked  some- 
times, when  ye  lived  in  them  ;  referring  to  what  was  men- 
tioned before  and  after,  fornication,  uncleanness,  inordi- 
nate affection,  evil  concupiscence,  and  covetousness,  which 
is  idolatry,  (ver.  5.)  and  to  anger,  wrath,  malice,  blas- 
phemy, filthy  communications,  &c.  ver.  8,  &c.  The  course 
of  any  one's  motion  is  so  conform  and  agreeable  to  the 
principle  that  lives  and  rules  with  him.  If  we  live  in  the 
Spirit,  we  walk  in  the  Spirit ;  as  it  is  most  befitting  we 
should ;  but  if  we  live  in  the  flesh,  that  is,  under  the  go- 
vernment and  dominion  of  fleshly  principles,  accordingly 
we  shall  walk  ;  our  walking  will  easily  show,  what  prin- 
ciple is  rcgnnnt  and  in  dominion. 

It  would  therefore  be  worth  our  while  here,  to  point  out 
some  particular  things,  that  are  too  observable  in  the  walk- 
ings of  many^  and  import  a  most  direct  repug-nancy  and 
contrariety  unto  walking  in  the  Spirit ;  which  are  a  mani- 
fest disclaiming  of  it,  as  none  of  the  governing  principle 
of  those  who  so  walk. 

1.  A  visible  conformity  to  this  world  speaks  a  contrari- 
ety to  walking  in  the  Spirit,  and  a  repugnancy  to  all  its 
influences  and  dictates.  Plain  it  is,  that  the  Scripture  fre- 
quently speaks  of  a  spirit  and  a  spirit,  that  differently  and 
oppositely  influence  the  walking  of  men.  We  are  told  of 
the  .spirit  of  the  world,  and  of  the  Spirit  that  is  of  God,  1 
Cor.  ii.  12.  And  as  here  we  read  of  walking  in  the  Spi- 
rit, the  blessed  Spirit  of  God;  so  we  read  of  another 
course  of  walking,  according  to  the  course  of  this  world, 
according  to  the  prince  of  the  power  of  the  air,  the  spirit 
that  worketh  in  the  children  of  disobedience ;  among 
•M'hom  we  all  had  our  conversation  in  times  past,  in  the 
lusts  of  the  flesh,  fulfilling  the  desires  of  the  flesh,  and  of 
the  mind,  Eph.  ii.  2,  3.  As  the  holy,  blessed  spirit  of  God, 
wherever  that  i^iles,  doth  conform  and  frame  the  course 
and  tenor  of  any  one's  conversation,  in  whom  it  so  rules, 
unto  the  Gospel  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that  course  of 
walking  that  is  directed  and  prescribed  there  ;  so  the  spirit 
and  genius  of  the  world  doth  conform  men  unto  this  world, 
and  make  them  shape  their  course  agreeable  to  it;  as 
that  expression  with  the  emphasis  signifies,  Rom.  xii.  2. 
fi'n  uv(Txri'aTii^eudc,  Be  not  conformed  (be  not  configuied) 
unto  this  world,  so  as  that  your  visible  shape,  frame,  and 
mould,  that  appear  obvious  to  every  ey^e,  should  represent 
this  world  and  hold  an  agreement  with  that ;  but  be  ye 


Serm.  XIX 


IN  REFERENCE  TO  PARTICULAR  PERSONS. 


559 


transformed  by  the  renewing  of  your  minds,  that  we  may 
prove  (or,  give  proof)  what  is  that  good  and  acceptable  and 
perfect  will  of  God;  as  those  that  are  framed  according  to 
that,  delivered  up  into  the  mould  by  which  that  will  is  re- 
vealed, to  wit,  that  of  the  Gospel  revelation;  as  in  Rom. 
vi.  17.  Now  when  the  course  of  any  men's  walking  is 
such  as  that  of  the  men  of  the  world  in  common,  what 
doth  it  discover,  but  that  these  men  are  acted  by  the  .spirit 
of  this  world,  are  ingulfed  and  swallowed  i^p  of  that 
spirit  1  one  spirit  animates  both  the  world  and  them,  and 
makes  them  one  piece  with  this  world.  And  if  we  should 
give  characters  of  the  worldly  spirit,  you  would  easily  see 
what  the  walking  and  conversation  of  many  doth  bespeak 
to  be  the  governing  principle  of  their  lives,  or  the  spirit 
that  influenceth  their  conversations.  Plain  it  is,  that  the 
.spirit  of  this  world  is  an  atheistical  spirit,  a  sensual  and 
earthly  spirit,  a  vain  and  proud,  a  malicious  and  conten- 
tious spirit.  Concerning  what  is  obvious  in  the  walking 
of  persons,  agreeable  unto  such  characters  as  these,  give 
me  leave  a  little  to  particularize. 

1.  A  conversation  or  course  of  walking  transacted  in  the 
continual  neglect  of  God,  is  certainly  a  conversation  go- 
verned not  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  but  by  the  spirit  of  this 
world.  Conceive  of  that  Spirit  under  what  notion  you 
will;  they  that  walk  under  the  governing  influence  of  the 
Spirit  of  God,  walk  as  before  God  ;  Walk  before  me,  and 
be  thou  perfect,  or  upright,  Gen.  xvii.  1.  Walk  as  in  God's 
sight,  as  under  his  eye  ;  as  that  injunction  again  and  again 
repeated  to  Abraham  doth  import.  They  walk  in  the  fear 
of  the  Lord,  Acts  ix.  31.  They,  whose  hearts  must  tell 
them  upon  reflection,  "  I  do  not  use  to  walk  in  the  fear  of 
the  Lord  from  day  to  day,  my  life  is  led  as  '  without  God 
in  the  world,'  as  if  I  were  my  own,  as  if  my  ways  were  all 
in  my  own  disposal,  as  if  it  were  the  sense  of  my  heart. 
Who  is  Lord  over  me  ?  I  am  under  my  own  inspection,  as 
if  no  account  was  to  be  taken  of  my  walk;"  it  will  be  too 
plain  for  such  to  collect,  that  they  walk  not  by  the  Spirit, 
or  after  the  Spirit,  or  in  the  Spirit.  For  what !  do  we 
think,  that  that  blessed  Spirit  can  be  the  author  to  us  of 
our  forgetting  God  and  leading  ungodly  lives'?  Doth  that 
cast  his  fear  out  of  our  hearts,  which  is  peculiarly  called 
the  Spirit  of  the  fear  of  the  Lord  ?  Isa.  xi.  2.  Doth  that 
Spirit  drive  us  away  from  God,  or  make  us  unapprehen- 
sive of  his  presence,  or  make  us  strangers  to  him,  or  as 
persons  unrelated  1 

2.  A  continued  over-eager  pursuit  of  the  things  of  this 
world,  .speaks  a  coi.versation  governed  by  the  spirit  of  the 
world,  and  not  by  the  Spirit  of  God.  I  shall  not  speak 
here  of  grosser  sensualities,  when  it  is  the  business  of 
men's  lives  to  satisfy  the  viler  lusts  of  the  flesh ;  about 
which  the  case  is  so  plain,  that  they  cannot  have  the  face 
to  pretend,  that  the  Spirit  of  God  should  be  the  author  of 
such  things  in  their  conversation.  And  the  antithesis  is 
plain,  where  we  have  the  same  precept  before,  at  the  IGth 
verse  of  this  chapter:  "  Walk  in  the  Spirit,  and  )'e  shall 
not  fulfil  the  lusts  of  the  flesh."  So,  fulfil  the  lusts  of  the 
flesh,  and  it  is  certain  you  do  not  walk  in  the  Spirit ;  for 
the  case  is  as  broad  as  long.  But  there  is  what  is  more 
refined,  what  custom  and  common  practice  hath  made  less 
scandalous.  It  is  hardly  thought  scandalous  to  be  an 
earthly-minded  man;  one,  all  whose  design  and  the  whole 
business  of  whose  life  is,  to  lay  up  and  amass  together  a 
great  deal  of  the  treasures  of  this  earth.  And  it  is  a  latent 
evil  in  very  great  part ;  for  one  man  may  be  very  busy  in  the 
affairs  of  this  world,  and  another  the  like,  and  yet  we  can- 
not tell  where  the  hearts  of  one  and  the  other  are.  There 
maybe  many  good  thoughts,  many  holy  afl^ectionsand  act- 
ings of  grace,  intermingled  with  worldly  affairs  and  busi- 
ness. But  notwithstandins;  that,  there  is  much  (as  I  say) 
of  the  air  of  a  man's  spirit  to  be  seen  in  the  constant 
course  and  tenor  of  his  walking;  a  certain  mien  and  de- 
portment, that  speaks  the  complexion  of  his  soul.  Thev 
that  are  after  the  flesh,  savour  the  things  of  the  flesh,  and 
carrj'  a  scent  with  them  that  shows  their  spirits.  We  say, 
that  such  or  such  a  course  of  walking,  such  a  word,  or  such 
an  action,  is  par  komini,  just  like  the  vuin,  speaks  the  spirit 
of  the  man.  When  the  apostle  comes  to  distinguish  be- 
tvveen  walking  and  walking,  conversation  and  conversa- 
tion, we  see  how  the  minding  of  earthly  things,  and 
having  a  conversation  in  heaven,  are  made  the  distinctive 


characters  of  men,  Phil.  iii.  19,  20.  Our  business  now  is 
to  put  persons  severally  upon  reflection  into  their  hearts 
and  upon  their  own  walking.  It  is  no  matter  what  we  ap- 
pear, or  are  thought  of  by  one  another;  but  it  greatly  con- 
cerns us  to  be  informed  ourselves,  what  principle  or  spirit 
it  is  that  governs  our  walking,  or  hath  the  management  of 
our  conversation.  And  it  is  no  such  diflScult,  ai  least  no 
impossible  thing,  upon  a  faithful  scrutiny  and  frequent  ob- 
servation, to  understand,  what  are  the  great  desieus  that 
we  are  driving  in  this  world,  and  in  what  channel  the  main 
stream  of  our  actions  and  endeavours  run  ;  what  are  the 
thoughts  of  our  hearts,  what  their  .secret  dispositions  and 
propensions.  When  worldly  objects,  and  worldly  thoughts 
and  affections,  are  most  tasteful  to  us,  and  most  habitual 
and  customary,  what  shall  we  say  concerning  this  ca.-el 
When  it  is  so  through  the  whole  course  of  our  walking, 
who  must  govern  this  walk  ?  Will  we  dare  to  entitle  the 
Spirit  of  God  unto  the  conduct  and  government  of  such  a 
conversation  as  that  7  When  my  walking  from  day  to  day 
is  nothing  else  but  a  continual  tending  towards  this  earth, 
a  motion  downward ;  is  it  the  Spirit  of  God  that  so 
thrusts  me  down  and  depresses  my  spirit  1  Is  it  that,  that 
makes  me  grovel  in  the  dust,  and  lead  the  life  of  a  worm, 
when  I  might  lead  that  of  an  angel,  when  I  might  have 
my  way  above,  as  the  way  of  the  wise  is? 

3.  A  contentious  course  of  life  .speaks  the  Spirit  of  God 
to  be  none  of  the  governor  of  our  walk,  but  another  spirit 
most  surely.  When  men  love  wrangles  and  contentions, 
cannot  endure  to  live  out  of  the  fire,  is  the  Spirit  of  God 
the  author  of  that  impure  tire  1  It  is  very  much  to  be  ob- 
served, what  the  apostle  hath  reference  to  more  immedi- 
ately and  directly  in  this  very  context,  wherein  the  text  lies. 
He  first  gives  this  precept  of  walking  in  the  Spirit ,  "  This 
I  say  then.  Walk  in  the  Spirit,  and  ye  shall  not  fulfil  the 
lusts  of  the  flesh,"  ver.  16.  See  what  the  f  regoing  verses 
are,  ver.  14,  15.  All  the  law  is  fulfilled  in  one  word,  by 
love ;  (as  he  had  said,  ver.  13.  By  love  serve  one  another ;) 
For  all  the  law  is  fulfilled  in  one  word,  even  in  this, 
"  Thou  .shalt  love  thy  neighbour  as  thyself  But  if  j^e  bite 
and  devour  one  another,  take  heed  that  ye  be  not  con- 
sumed one  of  another."  Upon  which  follows  the  IGih 
verse.  The  lusts  of  the  flesh,  which  he  hath  more  direct 
and  immediate  reference  to  there,  are  therefore  those  op- 
posed to  love,  such  as  wrath  and  anger,  envy  and  malice  ; 
which  he  speaks  of,  both  afterwards  in  this  chapter,  and  in 
other  of  his  epistles.  When  he  comes  to  enumerate  the 
fruits  of  the  flesh,  how  great  a  part  do  things  of  this  nature 
bear  in  that  enumeration  !  The  works  of  the  flesh  are 
manifest.  And  after  he  had  named  some  things  more 
grossly  sen.sual,(as  adultery,  fornication,  uncleanness,  las- 
civiousness,)and  interserted  idolatry  and  witchciaft:  then 
comes  hatred,  variance,  emulations,  wrath,  strife,  seditions, 
heresies,  envyings.  And  when  he  had  been  speaking  in 
Col.  iii.  5.  of  the  earthly  members,  that  must  be  mortified, 
and  for  which  the  wrath  of  God  cometh  on  the  children  of 
disobedience;  in  the  which,  says  he,  to  those  Colossians, 
ye  also  walked  sometime,  when  ye  lived  in  them:  then 
he  adds.  But  now  put  ye  off  all  these:  and  as  he  had 
named  before  fornication,  uncleanne.ss,  &c.  so  now  he  goes 
on  with  the  enumeration,  mentioning  further  anger,  wrath, 
malice,  &c.  And  indeed,  if  we  will  not  admit  the  appre- 
hension deep  into  our  souls,  that  it  is  the  tjreat  business 
of  the  Spirit  of  God  equally  and  alike  to  enliven  and  ani- 
mate both  parts  of  the  law  of  God.  to  turn  both  tables  into 
a  living  law,  transcribing  them  out  upon  the  hearts  and 
spirits  of  men  ;  we  shall  never  understand  the  great  work 
that  is  to  be  done  upon  our  souls  by  the  Spirit.  We  are 
to  consider  ix  as  the  Spirit  of  all  love,  and  goodness,  and 
benignity,  and  meekness;  and  then  we  may  ea^-^ily  appre- 
hend what  the  fruits  of  this  Spirit  will  be  :  The  friiitof  the 
Spirit  is  in  all  goodness  and  righteousness  and  truth,  Eph. 
V.  9.  It  is  the  reproach  of  our  age,  and  (which  is  worse 
than  that)  of  the  Christian  name,"that  there  are  so  many 
that  conjoin  eminent  pretences  unto  religion  and  spiritual- 
ity w  ith  a  froward,  peevish,  perverse,  envious,  spiteful, 
malicious  spirit,  as  if  it  were  possible  for  these  things  to 
consist.  It  is  not  strange  indeed,  that  a  worse  spirit  should 
assume  and  put  on  some  appearances  of  a  better;  but  you 
may  be  sure,  that  that  better  Spirit  will  never  disguise  it- 
self by  the  appearances  of  the  worse.    This  is  the  spirit  of 


560 


TflE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT 


Serm.  XIX. 


the  world,  a  spirit  that  fills  the  world  with  nothing  but 
violence  and  mischief,  that  shakes  and  agitates  the  world 
with  perpetual  commotions ;  as  it  will  be  with  it,  till  it 
dissolve  and  be  burst  asunder  at  last  by  the  malignity  of 
its  own  wickedness,  and  the  wrath  of  God  in  a  just  con- 
junction therewith,  coming  upon  the  wicked.  That  spirit, 
and  a  just  nemesis,  that  falls  by  way  of  punishment  upon  it, 
hath  made  the  world  so  miserable  a  region,  the  very  region 
of  all  miseries.  So  that  any  one  may  see,  that  the  spirit  of 
the  world  hath  a  great  hold  upon  one,  ifthings  of  this  import 
are  frequently  observable  in  the  course  of  his  conversation. 

4thly,  A  vain  walk  is  a  discovery,  that  a  man's  conver- 
sation is  acted  and  influenced  by  the  spirit  of  this  world, 
which  is  a  vain  spirit.  Such  persons,  who  can  never  find 
a  time  wherein  to  be  serious,  who  show  this  to  be  a  thing 
that  their  hearts  abhor  from,  whom  you  will  find  always 
vain,  though  you  should  meet  them  never  so  often  in  a 
day ;  as  if  a  serious  thought  fled  from  their  spirits  as  none 
of  its  element,  and  could  not  tell  how  to  dwell  with  them ; 
the  very  countenance  and  show  of  whose  coni'ersation  dis- 
covers a  continual  vanity  of  spirit ;  what !  will  such  per- 
sons dare  to  entitle  the  Spirit  of  God  to  this  1  flath  the 
Spirit  of  God  the  government  of  that  man's  walking,  in 
which  there  is  no  face  of  seriousness,  so  that  any  one  that 
sees  hath  reason  enough  to  conjecture,  that  seriousness 
was  never  akin  to  his  spirit,  or  had  any  place  in  it  J  This 
is  matter  of  very  necessary  self-reflection.  We  ought  to 
commune  with  ourselves  very  strictly  and  closely  about 
this  thing.  Do  we  think,  that  we  are  under  the  guidance 
of  the  Spirit  of  God,  and  yet  from  day  to  day  are  unac- 
quainted with  what  it  means  to  have  serious  thoughts  and 
serious  frames  and  dispositions  of  heart  about  us  1 

Thus  far  conformity  to  the  world  speaks  an  unsuitable- 
ness  and  contrariety  to  walking  in  the  Spirit.  There  are 
some  other  things,  that  are  thought  to  be  out  of  that  verge, 
and  are  really  beside  the  more  common  and  general  course 
of  this  walk;  which  I  shall  mention  under  distinct  heads 
from  this,  because  I  would  speak  of  them  as  they  are 
thought  of.     And  therefore  I  add, 

2ndly,  Opinionativeness  in  the  business  of  religion. 
Many  would  little  suspect  this  to  be  from  the  spirit  of  this 
world :  and  indeed  it  is  not  the  very  common  course  of 
this  world  to  be  much  concerned  about  such  matters.  But 
no  matter  from  what  spirit  it  is,  their  own  or  a  worse  ;  it 
is  not  from  the  Spirit  of  God;  that  doth  not  influence 
their  course.  But  take  aright  what  I  mean  by  the  term, 
opinionativeness:  I  mean  such  as  in  their  ordinary  course 
from  day  to  day  either  are  wholly  taken  up  about  specu- 
lative matters,  that  either  really  belong  or  that  ihey  affix  to 
religion ;  or  who  only  converse  about  most  practical  mat- 
ters speculatively,  as  if  they  were  matters  of  mere  opinion, 
and  not  to  be  turned  or  employed  to  practice  at  all.  A 
course  of  walking  so  managed  as  this  is,  certainly  is  not 
governed  by  the  Spirit  of  God;  that  is  the  author  of  no 
such  persuasion  to  men.  Men  are  apt  to  think,  that  they 
are  very  safe  from  sin  and  blame  in  this  case,  because  they 
are  things  of  religion  that  they  are  much  concerned  and 
taken  up  about.  But  what  things  1  and  how  are  they 
employed  about  them'?  Either  they  converse  about  the 
mere  skirts  and  borders  of  religion,  and  keep  as  remote  as 
they  can  from  the  heart  and  vitals  of  it,  from  having  any 
commerce  with  such  things:  or,  if  the  case  be  not  so,  then 
they  presume  (and  it  is  a  dreadful  presumption)  to  touch 
tho  e  most  sacred  things  with  sacrilegious  hands;  to  alien- 
alf  the  great  and  deep  things  of  God,  that  appertain  to  his 
kmgdom  and  glory,  from  their  proper  and  genuine  pur- 
poses ;  that,  whereas  they  should  be  the  food  of  souls,  and 
the  maintenance  of  the  spiritual  life,  they  employ  them 
only  to  feed  curiosity,  and  so  to  satisfy  a  more  refined 
lust.  This  is  the  very  truth  of  the  case  ;  and  so  a  great 
many,  that  are  persons  of  more  leisure  and  vacancy  t"rom 
worldly  afl^airs,  spend  most  of  their  time.  It  is  doleful  to 
think,  that  the  design,  for  which  such  important  things  are 
revealed  to  men,  should  be  so  little  understood,  and  so 
little  complied  with  and  answered;  and  that  so  great 
things  should  be  perverted  unto  so  mean  and  ill  services. 
And  it  is  sad  to  think  of  the  injury  that  such  men  do  to 
their  own  souls;  they  go  with  famished  souls  from  day  to 
day,  while  they  have  mo.st  proper  and  suitable  nutriment 
for  them  just  at  hand,  but  they  will  not  touch,  so  as  to 


taste  or  feed  upon  these  things.  Starving  m  the  midst  of 
plenty  is  their  case:  or,  as  if  a  sick  man  should  have  by 
him,  in  the  midst  of  his  languishing  sickness,  some  vial  of 
very  choice  and  precious  spirits,  that  in  all  likelihood 
would  be  relieving  to  him,  and  save  him  from  death,  but 
he  keeps  it  by  him,  and  will  discourse  to  you  very  curi- 
ously and  philo.sophica!ly  concerning  the  nature  and  vir- 
tues of  this  thing,  yet  never  uses  it,  nor  apprehends  that 
he  is  concerned  to  u.se  it,  or  that  his  case  requires  it ;  and 
so  dies  away  with  a  medicine  at  hand  all  the  while  that 
might  have  saved  his  life. 

3.  Formality  in  the  business  of  religion.  There  are  those, 
who  think  it  cannot  serve  their  turn  to  speculate  all  their 
days,  and  therefore  would  practice  somewhat.  But  what 
do  they  practise  1  They  run  in  a  common  road  of  duties, 
in  which  their  own  hearts  upon  reflection  must  confess, 
that  they  never  had  the  Spirit  of  God  breathing,  and  never 
concerned  themselves  to  have  it  so.  Theirs  i,s  a  religious 
course,  and  a  course  of  practical  religion;  but  transacted 
at  the  utmost  distance  from  the  Spirit  of  God,  so  that  it 
and  their  spirits  have  no  communion  from  day  to  day  ir. 
the  whole.  They  keep  up  a  course  of  prayer  in  their  fa- 
milies, and  it  maybe  in  secret,  go  to  public  assemblies,  at- 
tend upon  the  ordinances  of  worship;  but  never  find  any 
impression  upon  their  spirits,  any  warmth  or  vigour  there, 
or  a  concern  to  look  after  any  such  thing.  They  think  it 
well,  that  such  a  duty  is  over,  and  so  that  they  have  walk- 
ed in  a  religious  course,  though  strangers  to  God  and  hi.'s 
Spirit  all  their  time. 

4.  The  neglect  of  the  very  form  itself.  This  istoo  knoM-n 
a  thing  among  some  persons ;  and  that  too  under  the  very 
pretence  of  spirituality.  They  are  too  spiritual  to  be  hound 
to  any  forms  of  worship,  or  any  stated  course  of  duties; 
and  that  they  may  be  more  spiritual,  they  cast  prayer  out 
of  their  families,  and  refuse,  yea  even  disdain,  to  live  wor- 
shipping lives,  as  too  mean  for  them.  All  these  things 
speak  a  manifest  i^pugnancy  to  walking  in  the  Spirit. 
Sure  it  is  not  the  governor  of  any  such  courses  of  walking 
as  these  are. 

I  shall  shut  up  all  with  some  brief  reflections  upon  both 
parts  of  the  text  together. 

Since  it  doth  belong  to  the  Spiri  of  God  by  ofiice,  as 
we  have  asserted,  to  maintain  the  life  and  erovern  the  walk 
and  motions  of  Christians  ;  we  should  bethink  ourselves, 
of  how  indispensable  necessity  the  communications  of  the 
Spirit  for  these  purposes  are  unto  us,  and  how  miserable  a 
thing  it  is  to  be  destitute  of  them.  We  may  easilv  appre- 
hend how  necessary  that  influence  is,  without  which  we 
can  neither  live  nor  move;  and  how  miserable  to  be  with- 
out it.  For  represent  we  to  ourselves  the  case  of  a  poor, 
languishing,  decrepit  creature,  that  is  deprived  of  motive 
power ;  suppose  him  barely,  to  live,  to  have  only  life 
enough  to  feel  himself  in  a  dying  condition  :  now  is  not 
the  case  so  with  many  Christians,  with  some  of  those  per- 
haps that  have  the  root  of  the  matter  in  them  1  They  have 
but  life  enough  to  feel  that  they  are  consuming,  and  in  a 
state  wherein  the  things  that  remain  are  even  ready  to  die! 
That  they  do  not  die,  is  by  Divine  vouchsafement,  and 
none  of  their  care.  What  a  sad  case  is  this  !  And  is  it 
not  yet  worse  with  some?  They  have  not  life  enough  to 
take  any  notice,  or  make  inquiry,  whether  they  live  or  no : 
as  persons  that  have  some  life  left,  yet  may  be  incapable 
of  considering  whether  they  are  alive  or  dead.  Many 
Christians  are  so  far  from  having  that  motive  power,  that 
is  to  be  exercised  in  the  managing  of  their  own  walk,  and 
that  would  be  so  if  it  were  not  through  their  own  default ; 
that  they  are  so  altogether  destitute  also  of  any  presence 
and  vital  influence  of  the  Spirit,  as  never  to  consider  the 
case,  "  Am  I  alive  or  dead  1"  Certainly  this  is  a  miserable 
case.     And  I  may  add. 

Where  there  is  manifestly  such  a  destitution,  there  are 
some  things  very  intolerable,  which  yet  are  too  obvious 
and  frequent  with  many  such.     As, 

1.  It  is  intolerable  in  the  case,  to  lay  aside  the  appre- 
hension of  the  distinction  between  natural  and  spiritual 
life,  natural  motion  and  spiritual.  You  may  judge,  whether 
the  mention  of  this  be  not  a  most  apparently  needful  thing. 
Are  there  not  a  great  many,  that  spend  away  their  days 
without  so  much  as  ever  considering,  that  there  is  such  a 
thing  as  .spiritual  life  and  motion,  or  a  region  all  replenished 


Sr:i;M.  XIX. 


IN  REFERENCE  TO  PARTICULAR  PERSONS. 


5G1 


with  spiritual  vitality,  a  distinct  sphere  from  that  of  na- 
tn.re  wherein  alone  the  rest  of  men  do  converse  1  They 
n^.'er  think  of  such  a  distinction  between  world  and  world  ; 
an  orb  of  spiritual  life,  and  that  mean  and  lower  orb, 
wherein  only  a  low  kind  of  animality  fills  up  all. 

•2.  It  is  an  intolerable  thing  in  this  case,  to  be  unappre- 
hensive of  what  others  find  of  the  power  and  vigour  of 
that  other  Spirit  moving  in  them,  even  the  Spirit  of  God. 
There  are  some,  that  through  grace  (though  that  is  not  to 
be  vaunted  of,  and  whereof  it  becomes  none  to  make  a 
boast)  feel  the  stirrings  of  another  principle  in  them  dif- 
ferent from  the  spirit  of  this  world  :  they  feel  themselves 
to  live,  and  to  be  acted  in  their  walk  by  a  spring  of  life 
that  is  from  above.  Those  that  are  without  the  experience 
of  such  a  thing,  will  not  believe  there  is  any  such  thing ; 
as  if  their  knowledge  were  to  measure  all  realities ;  as 
though  they  were  persons  commensurate  in  their  under- 
standings and  experience  with  the  whole  nature  of  things. 
This  is  just  for  all  the  world,  as  if  a  languid  person,  that 
hath  been  long  confined  to  his  chamber  and  bed,  should 
come  to  fancy,  that  his  chamber  and  bed  M'ere  all  the 
world,  and  that  there  was  nothing  done  among  mankind 
but  what  he  saw  transacted  in  his  own  chamber  :  or,  if  we 
should  imagine  a  thinking  power  to  be  in  the  grave,  and 
fancying  a  grave  to  be  the  universe. 

3.  It  is  intolerable,  to  be  unconcerned  about  our  own 
part  and  share  in  the  world  and  region  of  spiritual  life  and 
motion,  of  which  we  have  been  speaking.  If  there  were  a 
line  to  be  drawn  through  the  world  to  sever  in  it  the  living 
from  the  dead,  and  a  public  notification  were  made  of  this 
all  the  world  over ;  would  we  not  then  be  very  much  con- 
cerned, on  which  side  of  the  line  we  placed  ourselves, 
that  it  might  be  where  we  could  live?  But  how  strange 
is  it,  that  in  this  case  many  are  altogether  unconcerned, 
whether  they  are  of  the  living  or  the  dead  side  !  Lastly, 


■1.  It  is  a  mo,st  intolerable  thing,  to  make  no  applications 
to  this  Spirit,  after  we  know  it.s  distance.  We  know  it  is 
the  Author  of  life,  and  the  Governor  of  all  holy  motions 
unto  all  the  children  of  God  ;  and  yet  never  apply  to  it, 
never  put  up  a  sigh  or  a  cry  !  How  intolerable  is  this  ! 
Do  we  know  of  any  other  way  to  live  1  Do  we  think, 
that  there  can  be  such  a  thing  as  everlasting  life,  a  life 
which  shall  never  end,  and  which  shall  also  never  begin  1 
Sure  if  there  be  such  a  life,  it  must  sometime  begin  : 
and  where  will  we  place  the  beginning  of  it,  but  in  the 
communication  of  that  .spiritual,  vital  influence,  which 
once  given  is  a  spring  of  living  waters,  springing  up  unto 
life  eternal  1 

Let  us  so  therefore  represent  the  matter  to  ourselves ; 
the  high  dignity,  the  immense  fulness,  the  royal  magnifi- 
cent bounty  and  benignity  of  this  blessed  Spirit ;  that  we 
may  neither  neglect  it,  nor  distrust  it.  Represent  the  ten- 
dency of  all  its  communications,  and  consider  them  as  the 
earnest  and  pledges  of  everlasting  life,  the  blossomings  of 
glory;  that  which  must  be  our  preparation  for,  and  our 
a.ssurance  of,  the  eternal  state  of  life.  And  then  d>  sire 
such  communications  above  all  things.  Let  this  be  the 
sense  of  our  souls,  (sure  there  is  rea.son  enough  that  it 
should  be  so,)  "  Lord,  let  me  rather  live  in  poverty,  live 
in  pain  and  sickness,  live  in  disgrace  all  my  dav-s  than 
live  without  thy  Spirit !  Let  not  that  Spirit  be  a  .^ranger 
to  me,  but  inhabit  and  dwell  in  me,  act  and  move  me  :  and 
be  my  condition  what  it  will  in  all  external  respects,  I  am 
unsolicitous,  I  will  never  capitulate,  never  dispute  the 
matter."  Till  that  Spirit  come  to  be  valued  by  us,  and 
all  its  communications,  even  above  all  things  else  that  men 
are  wont  to  count  dear  to  them,  we  have  rea.son  to  appre- 
hend, that  it  and  we  are  like  to  continue  still  strangers; 
and  if  we  be  strangers  to  the  Divine  Spirit,  we  must  be 
acquainted  with  misery  both  in  this  and  another  state. 


THE 

PROSPEROUS  STATE  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN  INTEREST 

BEFORE  THE  END  OF  TIME, 

BY  A  PLENTIFUL  EFFUSION  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT ; 

CONSIDERED  IN  FIFTEEN   SERMONS, 

ON  EZEK.  XXXIX.  29. 


TO  THE  READER. 


I  APPREHEND  little  occasioii  to  make  an  apology  for  the  publication  of  the  following  discoTirses.  They  wno  relish 
Mr.  Howe's  inimitable  spirit  of  piety,  judgment,  copiousness,  and  force,  in  the  management  of  every  subject  ne  hath 
imdertaken,  will  be  glad  of  any  remains  of  so  great  a  man  ;  and  those  who  have  been  conversant  with  his  writings, 
will  hardly  M'ant  any  other  voucher,  besides  the  sermons  themselves,  that  they  are  genuine,  they  so  evidently  carry 
in  them,  to  a  person  of  taste,  the  marks  which  always  distinguish  his  performances. 

They  have  not  indeed  had  the  advantage  of  his  own  masterly  hand  to  prepare  them  for  the  press,  and  give  them 
their  last  iinishing ;  but  were  his  discourses  from  the  pulpit,  taken  first  in  short-hand  by  the  hand  of  a  very  ready  and 
judicious  writer,  who  afterwards  copied  them  out  fair  with  the  minutest  exactness,  as  they  were  delivered.  This  very 
precise  accuracy  made  it  necessary,  that  they  should  be  transcribed  anew,  before  they  saw  the  light.  This  I  have 
adventured  to  do,  without  the  alteration  or  addition  of  any  one  thought.  But,  in  discourses  delivered  by  a  preacher 
without  notes,  some  repetitions  naturally  occur  in  the  pulpit ;  and  very  usefully,  to  enable  the  hearer  to  discern  the 
connexion  of  the  discourse  as  he  goes  along,  and  to  make  the  deeper  impression.  These  might  appear  tedious  to  a 
reader,  who  hath  the  whole  before  him ;  and  therefore  are  omitted,  further  than  they  seemed  to  carry  a  peculiar 
emphasis,  or  than  a  diflerent  representation  of  the  same  thought  was  apprehended  to  convey  the  idea  with  greater 
force.  The  writer  appears  to  have  religiously  followed  the  very  words  of  the  author,  when  he  cited  passages  of 
Scripture  by  memory.  It  was  judged  proper  to  consult  the  texts  themselves,  and  to  cite  them  as  they  lie  in  the  Bible  ; 
except  where  the  author  mijjht  be  supposed  out  of  choice  to  substitute  another  English  word,  as  more  expressive  ot 
the  sense  of  the  original.  The  repetition  also  of  former  discourses  at  the  beginning  of  another  sermon  hath  been 
omitted  where  nothing  new  occurred.  But  where  a  new  thought  is  suggested,  in  such  a  repetition,  it  hath  been  care- 
fully inserted  in  its  proper  place.  This  is  all  the  variation  I  have  allowed  myself  to  make  from  the  copy;  and  so 
much  I  apprehend  will  be  accounted  reasonable  and  necessary  by  all  that  are  acquainted  with  such  things. 

The  subject  can  hardly  fail  to  be  particularly  acceptable.  The  reverend  author  hath  often  indeed  expressed  in 
general  the  same  catholic  sentiments  in  several  of  the  works  which  he  published  himself;  and  shown  his  mind  to 
have  been  uniformly  the  same  as  here,  upon  that  head,  wherein  the  prosperity  of  the  Christian  interest  lies  :  that  it 
consists  not  it  the  advancement  of  any  party  among  Christians  as  such,  or  of  any  distinguishing  name,  or  in  any  mere 
external  forms  ;  but  in  real  vital  religion  and  conformity  to  God.  He  hath  also  more  than  once  intimated  his  expecta- 
tion of  better  times  for  the  church  of  God,  than  the  present  state  of  it.  But  he  hath  no  where  so  professedly  and  dis- 
tinctly explained  his  sentiments  concerning  the  latter  days  of  the  Christian  church,  as  in  these  discourses. 

They  were  all  preached  in  the  course  of  a  Wednesday  lecture,  which  he  formerly  kept  up  at  Cordwainer's  Hall  in 
this  city;  and  all  within  the  year  167S,  as  appears  by  the  dates  prefixed  to  each.  A  time,  wherein  he  was  in  the 
vigour  of  life  and  height  of  judgment,  between  forty  and  fifty  years  old  ;  and  within  a  few  years  after  his  settlement 
with  that  congregation  of  protestant  dissenters,  where  he  ministered  till  his  death.  That  was  a  time  of  peculiar  dis- 
tress and  danger,  not  only  to  protestants  out  of  the  legal  establishment  in  these  kingdoms,  but  to  the  reformed  interest 
in  general  through  Europe.  This  may  be  supposed  to  have  engaged  his  thoughts  in  so  long  attention  to  this  subject, 
which  animates  with  the  hope  of  better  times  to  come. 

There  are  other  discourses  immediately  preceding  these  at  the  same  lecture,  concerning  the  work  of  the  Spirit  in 
every  age  upon  particular  persons ;  as  these  relate  to  his  work  upon  the  Christian  communitj',  to  be  expected  in  the 
last  age.  A  copy  of  those  sermons,  drawn  up  by  the  same  writer,  is  fallen  into  the  hands  of  a  very  worthy  brother  of 
this  city,  by  as  unexpected  a  providence  as  these  came  into  mine.  I  hope  he  may  be  prevailed  with  to  introduce 
them  into  the  world,  if  those  which  are  now  offered  meet  with  a  favourable  reception.  And  both  these  volumes  to- 
gether, will  contain  the  sum  of  this  great  man's  sentiments  concerning  the  important  doctrine  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 

If  any  inquire,  why  these  sermons  were  not  inserted  in  the  late  collection  of  Mr.  Howe's  works  in  folio  ;  I  answer  ; 
besides  tliat  it  was  resolved  to  insert  none  there,  but  those  which  he  had  published  himself;  so,  if  it  had  been  thought 


Seum.  I. 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT,  &c. 


56 


proper  to  add  more,  the  copy  of  these  came  not  into  my  hands,  or  within  my  notice,  till  that  edition  was  made 
public. 

Such  an  index  cannot  be  judged  needful  to  a  particular  discourse ;  as  I  thought  proper  to  add  to  that  collection, 
where  the  subjects  treated  of  are  so  various.  It  appeared  more  useful  here  to  give  a  view  of  his  whole  scheme  upon 
the  argument,  by  way  of  contents:  and  because  of  the  felicity  of  this  author  in  descants  upon  Scripture,  an  index  ot 
the  texts,  which  he  hath  taken  notice  of,  is  added  even  to  this  short  treatise. 

May  the  great  Lord  of  the  harvest  succeed  the  revived  labours  of  our  fathers,  and  the  endeavours  of  those  in  the 
present  age,  who  are  called  to  serve  him  in  the  Gospel ;  and  still  raise  a  seed  to  serve  him,  both  in  the  ministry-  and 
out  of  it,  which  from  time  to  time  shall  be  accounted  to  him  for  a  generation.     This  is  the  hearty  prayer  of 

An  unworthy  Servant  of 

our  common  Lord, 


Prpscot-street. 
Bee.  6th,  1725. 


JOHN  EVANS. 


SERMOx\  I.* 

Ezek.  xxxix.  29. 

Neither  will  I  hide  my  face  any  more  from  them ;  for  I 
have  poured  out  my  Spirit  upon  the  house  of  Israel,  saith 
the  Lord  God. 

The  operations  of  the  Holy  Ghost  may  be  considered 
either  as  relating  to  particular  persons,  in  a  single  and  pri- 
vate capacity ;  for  the  regenerating  of  souls,  or  implant- 
ing in  them  the  principles  of  the  divine  and  spiritual  life  ; 
the  maintaining  of  that  life  ;  the  causing  and  ordering  all 
the  motions  that  are  proper  thereunto  :  or,  as  having  an 
influence  upon  the — felicity  and  prosperous  state  of  the 
church  in  general. — For  this  last,  the  Scripture  that  I  have 
pitched  upon,  gives  us  a  very  plain  and  sufficient  ground. 

It  is  manifest,  that  it  is  a  very  happy  and  prosperous 
state,  which  is  here  referred  unto,  if  you  look  back  upon 
this  and  the  foregoing  chapters,  the  xxxvi.  xxxvii.  and 
xxxviii.  which  are  all  congenerous7and  as  it  were  of  a  piece 
with  this.  You  find  such  things  copiously  spoken  of  and 
promised,  as  we  are  wont  to  consider  in  the  constitution 
of  a  prosperous  happy  state,  in  reference  to  what  their  case 
required;  reduction  from  captivity,  victory  over  their  ene- 
mies, abundant  plenty  of  all  things,  settled  tranquillity 
and  peace,  entire  union  among  themselves,  both  Ephraim 
and  Judah,  as  you  will  find  it  expressed  ;  the  renewal  of 
God  s  covenant  with  them,  after  their  so  great  and  long- 
continued  defection  and  apostacy  from  it;  in  which  cove- 
nant he  would  be  their  God,  and  take  them  for  his  people, 
and  have  the  relation  avowed  and  made  visible  to  all  the 
world,  that  he  and  they  were  thus  related  to  one  another. 
These  things  you  may  find  at  large  in  the  several  chapters 
mentioned  ;  importing  all  the  favour  that  we  could  sup- 
pose any  way  conducible  to  make  a  people  happy.  And 
indeed  the  same  thing  is  compendiously  and  summarily 
held  forth  in  the  words  of  the  text  themselves  :  "  Neither 
will  T  hide  my  face  any  more  from  them  ;  for  I  have  poured 
out  my  Spirit  upon  the  house  of  Israel,  saith  the  Lord 
God."  We  cannot  in  few  words  have  a  fuller  account 
given  of  a  happy  state.  To  consider  these  words  them- 
selves ;  the  contents  of  them  are,  I.  A  gracious  prediction : 
"Neither  will  I  hide  my  face  any  more  from  them:"  a 
prediction,  or  prophetic  promise,  or  a  promissory  prophe- 
cy of  a  most  happy  state:  and,  2.  The  reason  given  here- 
of, why  God  would  provide  that  all  things  should  be  well 
with  them  in  other  respects  :  "For  I  have  poured  out  my 
Spirit  upon  the  house  of  Israel,  saith  the  Lord  God." 

There  are  two  things,  that  must  be  the  matter  of  a  lit- 
tle previous  inquiry,  in  order  to  our  taking  up  what  we 
are  to  insist  upon  from  this  Scripture  ; — 1.  The  import  of 
this  negative  expression,  "  Neither  will  I  hide  my  face  any 
more  from  them  ;"  and, — 2.  How  we  are  to  understand 
the  subject  of  the  promised  favour  here,  as  it  is  designed 
by  this  name,  "the  house  of  Israel." — These  things  being 
cleared,  the  matters  that  I  intend  to  recommend  to  you 
and  insist  upon,  will  plainly  result. 

I.  As  to  the  former,  what  this  negative  expression  should 

mean,  "  Neither  will  I  hide  my  face  any  more  from  them." 

It  is  needful,  that  we  may  understand  that,  to  know  what 

the  Scripture  doth  often  mean,  and  may  well  be  supposed 

*  Preaclied  May  3th,  167S. 


to  mean  here,  by  "  the  face  of  God."  It  is  very  plam,  that 
it  frequently  means  his  providential  appearances,  or  the 
aspect  of  providence  one  way  or  another.  And  thus  we 
are  more  frequently  to  understand  it,  when  it  is  spoken  of 
in  reference  to  a  community,  or  the  collective  body  of  a 
people  ;  yea,  and  sometimes,  when  in  reference  to  particu- 
lar persons  too.  And  hence  it  will  easily  appear,  how  we  are 
to  take  the  opposite  expressions,  of  his  "  making  his  face  to 
shine ;"  or  of  his  "  hiding,  or  covering,  or  clouding  his  face." 
It  appears  from  sundry  scriptures,  that  by  his — showing 
his  face, — or  letting  it  be  .seen, — givingthe  sight  of  it,  or— 
causing  his  face  to  shine,  giving  the  plea.sant  sight  of  it,  or 
— lifting  up  the  light  of  his  countenance, — (expres.;ions  of 
the  same  import,)  the  favourable  aspect  of  providence  is  to 
be  imderstood  ;  when  these  expressions  are  used,  as  I  said, 
more  especiallv  in  reference  to  the  collective  body  of  a 
people.  And  so  the  hiding  of  his  face,  signifies  as  much 
as  the  change  of  these  more  favourable  aspects  of  provi- 
dence, for  those  that  are  more  severe,  and  that  do  import 
anger  and  displeasure.  For  so,  by  the  aspects  and  ap- 
pearances of  providence,  it  is  to  be  understood,  whether 
God  be  propitious  and  favourably  inclined  toward  a  peo- 
ple, or  whether  he  be  displeased  and  have  a  controversy 
with  them  :  as  it  may  be  discerned  in  the  face  of  a  man, 
whether  he  be  pleased  or  displeased.  Wherefore  you 
have  anger  and  severity,  which  uses  to  be  signified  by 
providence,  and  as  it  is  so  signified  held  forth  to  us  under 
this  same  phrase  or  form  of  speech.  Dent.  xxxi.  18.  1 
will  surely  hide  my  face  in  that  day,  for  all  the  evils  which 
they  shall  have  wrought,  in  that  they  are  turned  unto 
other  gods.  See  what  the  expres.sion  there  is  exegetical 
of,  or  with  what  other  phrases  it  is  joir<ed,  as  manifestly 
intending  the  same  thing ;  such  as,  his  anger  being  kin- 
dled again.st  them,  and  his  forsaking  them.  It  is  intersert- 
ed  among  such  expressions  again  and  again.  So  ver.  17. 
Mv  anger  shall  be  kindled  against  them  in  that  day.  and 
I  will  forsake  them,  and  I  will  hide  my  face  from  them ; 
and  thev  shall  be  devoured,  and  many  evils  and  troubles 
shall  befall  them ;  so  that  they  will  say  in  that  day.  Are 
not  these  evils  come  upon  us,  because  our  Grod  is  no> 
amongst  us  1  In  the  same  sense  the  word  is  nsed,  chap. 
xxxiiT  20.,  and  in  many  other  scriptures,  in  reference  to 
bodies  of  men.  And  sometimes  in  reference  to  a  particu- 
lar person  ;  as  in  Job  xxxiv.  2*1.  When  he  srives  quiet- 
ness, who  shall  give  trouble  ?  and  when  he  hides  his  face, 
who  shall  behold  him  1  Who  dare  beholil  him,  when 
clouds  and  frowns  do  eclipse  that  bright  and  pleasant  light 
of  his  countenance  before  lift  up,  whether  it  be  against  a 
nation  or  a  particular  person?  as  there  Elihu  speaks. 
And  he  had  been  speaking  before  of  the  acts  of  provi- 
dence, in  litling  up  and  casting  down  at  his  pleasure,  and 
according  as  men's  ways  and  deportment  towards  him  in 
this  kind  or  that  did  make  it  most  suitable  and  fit.  And 
therefore  also  the  church,  being  represented  as  in  a  very 
afflictive  condition,  exposed  to  the  insultations  of  tyran- 
nous enemies,  and  having  suffered  very  hard  and  griev- 
ous things  from  them;  this  is  the  petition  that  is  put  up  in 
theca.se,  Turn  us,  and  cause  thy  face  to  shine  upon  us, 
and  we  shall  be  saved,  Psal.  Ixxx.  3,  If). 

Therefore  it  is  obvious  to  collect,  what  the  like  expres- 
sion here  must  mean  ;  "Neither  will  I  hide  my  face  any 
more  from  them."  It  mu.st  mean,  that  he  would  put  them 
into  a  prosperous  condition:  the  course  of  his  providence 


5C4 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT  IN 


Serm.  I. 


toward  them  should  be  such  as  would  import  favour  and 
kindness  to  them.  And,  "  Neither  will  I  hide  my  face 
any  more  from  them,"  imports  the  permanency  and  set- 
tledness  of  this  happy  and  prosperous  state  ;  that  it  should 
not  be  a  short,  lucid  interval  only;  but  through  a  very 
considerable  and  continued  tract  of  time  this  should  be 
the  posture  and  course  of  his  providence  towards  them. 
And  then, 

II.  For  the  subject  of  this  promised  favour,  as  it  is  de- 
signed here  by  the  expression,  "  The  house  of  Israel." 

1.  I  doubt  not  but  that  it  hath  a  meaning  included,  as  it 
is  literally  taken,  of  that  very  people  wont  to  be  known  by 
that  name,  "  The  house  of  Israel,"  the  seed  of  Jacob. 

2.  But  I  as  little  doubt,  that  it  hath  a  further  meaning 
too.  And  it  is  an  obvious  observation,  than  which  none 
more  obvious,  that  the  universal  church,  even  of  the  Gos- 
pel constitution,  is  frequently  in  the  prophetical  scriptures 
of  the  Old  Testament  represented  by  this,  and  by  the 
equivalent  names  of  Jerusalem  and  Zion,  and  the  like. 
And  the  reason  was  as  obvious  as  the  thing  itself;  for  they 
were  the  church  of  God,  that  people,  and  they  who  were 
proselyted  to  them :  and  the  prophecies  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment we  know  were  first  and  most  immediately  directed 
to  them ;  and  were  more  likely  to  be  regarded  by  them,  by 
how  much  the  more  the  church,  whom  these  prophecies 
did  concern,  was  more  constantly  designed  or  set  forth  by 
their  own  name.  It  inviied  them  to  look  towards  the  great 
things  represented  and  held  forth  in  these  prophecies,  as 
things  wherein  they  had  a  special  concern,  and  wherein 
their  interest  was  bound  up:  though  they  had  no  reason 
to  think,  that  they  were  things  appropriate  to  them.  And 
we  find,  that  in  the  New  Testament  too  the  name  is  re- 
tained: "  All  are  not  Israel  that  are  of  Israel.  He  is  not 
a  Jew  that  is  one  outwardly :"  he  means  certainly  a  Chris- 
tian. "  IknoAv  the  blasphemy  of  them  that  say  they  are 
Jews,  and  are  not."  Rom.  ii.  28.  Rev.  ii.  9.  And  we  have 
little  reason  to  doubt,  and  there  will  be  occasion  to  make 
it  more  apparent  hereafter,  that  so  we  are  to  explain  the 
signification  of  this  name  here;  not  to  exclude  the  natu- 
ral Israelites,  but  also  to  include  the  universal  Christian 
church. 

These  things  being  thus  far  cleared,  the  ground  will  be 
plain  upon  which  to  recommend  to  you  a  twofold  truth 
from  these  words;  viz. — First,  That  there  is  a  state  of  per- 
manent serenity  and  happiness  appointed  for  the  universal 
church  of  Christ  upon  earth. — Secondly,  that  the  immedi- 
ate original  and  cause  of  that  felicity  and  happy  state,  is 
a  laro;e  and  general  effusion  or  pouring  forth  of  the  Spirit. 
— It  is  the  latter  of  these  that  I  principally  intend,  and 
shall  speak  more  briefly  to  the  former. 

But  before  I  speak  distinctly  and  severally  to  either  of 
them,  I  shall  do  what  is  not  usual  with  me  ;  that  is,  enter- 
tain you  a  while  with  somewhat  of  a  preface,  to  give  you 
therein  an  account  in  reference  to  both,  and  of  the  whole 
of  the  intended  discourse  upon  this  subject,  what  I  design, 
and  upon  w^hat  score  I  think  it  useful  and  proper,  that  such 
a  matter,  as  this  is,  be  entertained  into  your  consideration 
and  my  own.  Herein  I  shall,  1st,  lay  before  you  sundry 
things  obvious  unto  the  consideration  of  considering  per- 
sons, that  will  serve  for  some  representation  of  the  state  of 
the  Christian  church  hitherto,  and  at  this  time,  and  as  it 
may  continue  to  be  for  some  time  hence.  And  then,  2dly, 
shall  show  j'ou  in  some  other  particulars,  what  it  is  rea- 
sonable s'.ould  be  designed  and  expected  in  a  discourse  of 
this  nature,  and  upon  such  a  subject  as  this  is,  in  way  of 
accommodation  to  such  a  state  of  the  case  1 

I.  As  to  the  former;  these  things  I  reckon  very  obvious 
to  .such  as  are  of  considering  minds. 

1.  That  the  state  of  the  Christian  church  hath  been  for 
the  most  part  very  calamitous  and  sad  all  along  hitherto, 
in  external  respects.  You  know  it  was  eminently  so  in  the 
time  of  the  first  forming  of  the  Christian  church.  The 
Christian  name  was  a  name  everv  where  spoken  against ; 
and  they,  that  delivered  themselves  up  to  Christ,  deliver- 
ed themselves  up  to  all  manner  of  troubles  and  persecu- 
tions, even  upon  his  account  and  for  his  name's  sake.  He 
foretold  it'unto  his  more  immediate  followers,  that  for  his 
name  they  should  be  hated  of  all  men  ;  and  they  were  to 
expect  the  most  malignant  hatred  ;  and  he  told  them  too 
of  the  effects  agreeable  and  suitable  to  such  a  principle. 


The  church  was  externally  miserable  in  the  first  ages  of 
it  by  persecutions  from  without:  and  after  it  arrived  to  a 
state  of  some  tranquillity  and  peace,  by  the  favour  of  the 
world  and  its  more  gentle  aspect  upon  it;  after  there  was 
an  emperor  of  the  Christian  religion,  that  would  own  and 
patronize  it  against  the  rage  and  fury  that  it  was  pursued 
with  before:  then  it  soon  bred  trouble  enough  within  it- 
self, and  grew  factious  and  divided,  and  broken  into  parts, 
pestered  with  heresies,  and  filled  with  varieties  of  con- 
tending opinions  and  sects ;  and  then  these  were  continual- 
ly the  authors  of  troubles  to  one  another,  according  as  one 
or  another  could  get  opportunity  to  grasp  power  into  its 
hand.  This  hath  been  the  state  of  things  with  it  all  along, 
though  there  have  been  some  more  quiet  intervals  here 
and  there,  in  this  or  that  part  of  the  Christian  world.  It 
can  hardly  be  said,  the  church  hath  ever  had  any  consid- 
erable season  of  tranquillity  and  serenity,  universally,  and 
all  at  once,  even  in  any  time. 

2.  It  is  more  obvious,  as  we  may  suppose,  unto  the  most, 
that  the  state  of  the  church  is  externally  very  miserable 
and  sad  at  this  time.  Those,  that  understand  any  thing  of 
the  world,  cannot  but^now  so  much  ;  and  we  need  not  to 
except  that  part  of  tlie  church  at  home,  as  you  all  well 
enough  know.  In  other  countries  Christians  are  rolling 
and  weltering  in  one  another's  blood  ;  and  you  know  the 
shattered  .state  of  things  within  ourselves. 

3.  By  the  present  posture  of  affairs,  the  position  and  as- 
pect of  things,  we  cannot  say  that  matters  are  in  a  tenden- 
cy unto  a  better  state ;  but  have  rather  reason  to  fear,  that 
all  will  grow  worse  and  worse.  Clouds  gather  and  tliick- 
en,  and  grows  blacker  and  blacker,  and  spread  far  and 
wide  over  the  church  of  ChrLst  in  the  world,  and  are  very 
likely  to  discharge  into  very  tremendous  storms :  accord- 
ing to  hum.an  probabilities  and  experience  nothing  else  is 
to  lie  expected. 

4.  It  is  to  be  observed  too,  that  there  hath  long  been  a 
retraction  in  a  very  great  measure  of  the  Spirit  from  the 
church.  There  was  a'gradual  retraction  soon  after  that 
large  effusion  of  it  at  first  in  the  apostle's  days;  untc 
which  in  Acts  ii.  we  find  by  Peter  that  scripture  in  Joel 
applied,  "  I  will  pour  out  my  Spirit  upon  all  flesh."  Then 
they  said  it  had  its  accomplishment ;  though  I  doubt  not 
it  is  to  have  another  and  fuller  accomplishment  ;  as  it  is 
no  unusual  thing  for  the  same  prophetic  scripture  to  be 
said  to  be  fulfilled  again  and  again;  as  that  passage,  "Out 
of  Egypt  I  have  recalled  my  Son,"  applied  to  the  people 
of  Israel  and  to  Christ.  A  long  continued  retraction  there 
hath  been  of  that  Spirit,  which  is  the  very  life  of  that 
body;  whose  work  and  business  it  is  to  act  and  animate 
it  in  every  part.  We  are  not  now  inquiring  concerning  the 
cause  of  the  retraction.  Much  must  be  referred  to  sove- 
reign pleasure,  more  to  justice:  for  undoubtedly  Godhaih 
proceeded  according  to  the  tenor  of  his  own  rule,  I  will 
be  with  you,  as  long  as  you  a  re  with  me;  and  he  did  never 
in  any  degree  leave  his  people  first,  that  bare  his  name. 
Union  always  begins  on  his  part;  breaches  on  ours.  But 
notwithstanding  that  so  large  effusion  of  the  Spirit  at  first, 
when  the  Gospel  light  first  dawned  upon  the  world,  and 
that  pleasant  spring  of  the  Christian  interest  and  religion 
that  then  appeared  and  showed  itself;  how  gradual  was 
the  languor,  that  set  it  a  fainting  and  withering  by  steps 
and  degrees,  very  discernible  to  those  that  look  upon  the 
histories  of  former  days  !  Though  yet  the  life  and  vigour 
was  still  much  preserved,  as  long  as  the  church  was  in  a 
suffering  state  from  without  by  the  persecution  of  pagan- 
ish enemies  ;  as  we  know  it  was,  for  the  three  first  centu- 
ries and  more,  in  some  degree  and  in  some  part  of  it. 

But  afler  once  the  world  came  to  cast  more  benign  as- 
pects upon  it,  how  soon  did  the  life  and  vigour  of  the 
Christian  church  evaporate  and  expire  1  So  as  that  there 
seemed  to  be  a  body  left  in  a  great  measure  destitute  of  a 
soul :  to  allude  to  the  expression  that  the  prophet  Jeremiah 
uses  to  the  people  of  Israel,  "  Be  instructed,  lest  my  soul 
depart  from  j^ou."  The  very  soul  of  the  church  was  in  a 
great  measure  departed ;  departed  imto  that  degree,  that  it 
was  become  such  a  mere  piece  of  formality,  that  another 
religion  takes  the  advantage  to  vie  with  the  Christian;  the 
most  fabulous,  the  most  vain,  the  most  de.spicable,  that 
could  be  invented ;  and  of  the  most  despicable  original, 
from  Mahomet,  a  mean,  inconsiderable,  ignorant,  illiterate 


Serm.  I. 


REFERENCE  TO  THE  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH. 


565 


man  ;  but  a  common  soldier  at  the  first,  and  yet  the  author 
of  a  religion  so  vastly  spread  in  the  world  as  it  is  at  this 
day,  and  even  so  as  to  eat  out  Christianity  in  so  consider- 
able parts  where  it  had  obtained  and  taken  place.  This 
was  argument  enough  of  a  great  retraction  of  that  Spirit, 
that  made  the  Christian  church  and  religion,  while  it  was 
more  visibly  breathing,  a  mighty,  majestic,  awful,  com- 
manding thing. 

About  that  time,  when  the  apostacy  in  the  Christian 
church  became  more  visible,  and  the  usurpation  of  the 
man  of  sin  more  explicit  and  avowed  ;  that  is,  when  Boni- 
face the  third  obtained  from  Phocas  the  emperor  the  grant 
of  the  primacy,  about  that  very  time,  within  sixteen  years 
after,  was  the  Alcoran  framed.  When  the  church  was  be- 
come so  despicable,  when  the  Christian  religion  was  but  a 
formality  and  shadow,  then  was  the  time  to  set  up  this  des- 
picable religion  ;  and  nothing  more  despicable  could  have 
been  set  up.  Yet  at  a  strange  rate  it  hath  vied,  so  as  to 
carry  again.st  the  Christian  interest  the  cause  so  far,  and 
unto  so  great  a  degree,  and  for  so  long  a  time. 

And  then,  for  the  first  setting  up  of  that  religion,  a  time 
was  chosen  by  Satan  on  purpose.  As  the  church  history 
of  those  times  doth  acquaint  us,  there  was  nobody  to  make 
opposition  to  the  Mahometan  dotages  and  delirations.  In 
the  Eastern  church  they  were  all  busy  in  propagating  such 
and  such  opinions,  that  the)'^  were  contending  about,  on 
the  one  hand  and  the  other,  amongst  themselves.  And  in 
the  Western  churches  they  were  all  engaged  generally,  and 
so  verjr  busy  in  inventing,  new  forms  and  ceremonies  and 
rites,  that  there  was  no  body  at  leisure,  not  any  of  the  doc- 
tors in  the  church  to  be  found,  (as  the  history  tells  us,)  to 
make  any  opposition,  or  write  any  thing  against  the  dota- 
ges of  Mahometanism,  that  then  first  began  to  appear. 

Afterwards,  into  how  strange  a  darkness  and  stupidity 
did  the  Christian  church  and  interest  and  religion  sink! 
so  that  for  several  ages  together  there  was  an  utter  vacan- 
cy and  destitution,  not  only  of  divine,  but  of  all  common 
human  knowledge;  nothing  but  the  grossest  and  most 
horrid  barbarism,  that  spread  itself  through  the  Christian 
church.  And  it  was  bad,  if  we  may  not  say  worse,  through 
the  pride  and  tyranny  of  those  that  took  upon  them  to  be 
governors  in  the  church  ;  and  the  viciousness,  immorality, 
and  sensuality,  and  all  other  kinds  of  wickedness,  that 
abounded  among  the  vulgar  common  sort.  And  so  it  con- 
tinued, till  some  later  stirrings  and  efforts  towards  refor- 
mation :  which,  how  partial  they  have  been,  that  is,  in  how 
small  a. part,  and  how  imperfect  and  incomplete  where  they 
have  been,  and  what  recedations  there  have  been,  where 
anv  thing  hath  been  effected  and  done  in  that  kind  ;  those 
who  know  any  thing  of  former  and  foreign  affairs  cannot 
but  understand. 

And  even  noAv  at  this  day,  to  cast  our  eyes  round  about 
us,  whether  we  take  nearer  or  more  remote  views,  alas  ! 
how  little,  how  little  is  there  to  be  discerned  of  the  true 
spirit  of  Christianity  !  Yea,  how  much,  that  speaks  the 
very  opposite  thereunto,  the  spirit  of  the  world  !  A  spirit 
of  malignity,  that  is  working,  and  striving,  and  contending 
every  where,  and  lurking  under  the  profession,  the  usurped 
and  abused  profession,  of  the  Christian  name !  So  that,  to 
speak  as  the  truth  of  the  matter  is,  a  Christian  is  become 
but  just  like  another  man,  and  the  Christian  church  just 
like  the  rest  of  the  world.  Christianity  hath  put  on  the  garb 
of  Paganism  in  worship  in  a  great  part  of  it;  in  manners 
and  conversation  in  the  most  part,  the  far  greater  part. 

5.  It  is  to  be  observed  and  considered  too,  that  we  are 
still  encountered  with  this  two-fold  evil  at  once  and  m  con- 
junction, wheresoever  we  cast  our  eye ;  that  is,  the  state  of 
the  church  eternally  calamitous  and  miserable,  and  the 
retraction  of  the  Spirit ;  and  the  former  of  these  still  caused 
by  the  latter.  This  is  very  observable  too,  that  these  two 
things  are  in  a  connexion,  and  conjunct. 

6.  It  is  to  be  considered  further,  that  we  are  much  more 
apt  to  be  sensible  of  the  effect,  than  of  the  cause ;  whether 
we  hear  of  such  effects  abroad,  or  whether  we  feel  or  fear 
them  at  home.  If  we  hear  of  great  devastations  of  coun- 
tries, towns  sacked,  battles  fought,  blood  spilt,  barbanms 
usages,  and  acts  of  violence  done ;  we  are  struck  with  a 
smarter  and  quicker  sense  upon  the  reportof  these  things, 
than  if  we  be  made  to  understand,  how  the  religion  of 
Christians  doth  languish  every  where;  or  when  we  hear 

40 


of  the  prevailing  of  pride  and  anger,  and  malice  and  con- 
tention ;  or  of  formality,  deadness,  indifierency,  lukewarm- 
ness  in  the  things  of  God.  That  is,  the  evils  that  are 
caused,  affect  us  a  great  deal  more,  than  those  that  we  are 
to  reflect  upon  as  the  cause,  and  which  are  all  compre- 
hended in  that  one  caiise,  the  retraction  of  the  Spirit,  or 
that  it  is  in  so  great  a  measure  retired  and  withdrawn. 

7.  It  is  to  be  considered  too,  (as  pursuant  unto  that  last 
note,)  that  we  are  a  great  deal  more  apt  to  covet  a  state 
of  external  prosperity  for  the  church,  than  the  effu.sion  and 
communication  of  the  Spirit,  and  those  things  which  would 
be  the  most  direct  issues  and  effects  of  that.  Let  us  deal 
with  our  own  hearts  about  this  mailer,  and  consider, 
whether  we  be  not  more  taken,  and  it  do  not  far  more 
highly  please  our  imagination,  to  represent  to  ourselves,  or 
to  have  represented,  a  state  of  external  tranquillity  and 
prosperity  to  the  church,  wherein  we  think  to  have  a  part 
or  share,  or  may  have;  than  to  have  a  representation  made 
of  such  a  state  of  things,  wherein  the  life  and  power  of 
godliness,  the  mortification  of  sensual  lusts,  eminent  self- 
denial,  andtheserious  intending  and  designing  for  heaven, 
should  be  things  visible  and  conspicuous  in  ever)'  one'.s 
eye.  Let  us  consider,  whether  the  former  of  these  do  not 
lake  our  hearts  a  great  deal  more  than  the  latter,  if  it  be  not 
more  pleasing  and  grateful  to  our  thoughts.     And  again, 

8.  It  is  to  be  considered  also,  that  many  are  apt  to  mis- 
take, and  to  take  wrong  measures  of  the  Christian  church, 
and  the  Christian  interest,  and  the  Spirit  that  breathes  in 
and  animates  that  church  :  that  is,  to  reduce  all  these  to 
the  measure  of  this  or  that  party,  to  which  they  have 
thought  fit  to  addict  themselves ;  and  to  judge  it  goes 
well  or  ill  with  the  church,  according  as  it  goes  well  or 
ill  with  their  own  party ;  and  to  judge  there  is  more  or 
less  of  the  Spirit,  as  there  is  more  or  less  zeal  for  the  pro- 
pugning  the  interest  of  that  party  :  and  so  the  measures  of 
the  church  and  the  Christian  interest  are  mistaken ;  but 
especially  the  Spirit  of  Christ  most  of  all  mistaken  and 
misapprehended.  The  heats  and  fervours  which  some 
have  for  a  private,  little,  narrow  interest  of  their  own,  are 
taken  for  that  great,  large,  universalizing  Spirit  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that  in  all  communications  works  with 
the  greatest  sweetness  and  benignity,  and  disposes  the 
spirit  of  a  man  answerabl}'  herein  to  itself. 

9.  It  is  to  be  considered,  that  Ave  are  more  apt  to  con- 
fine and  limit  our  eye  and  thoughts  unto  what  is  present, 
than  to  extend  them  to  what  is  future  ;  whether  the  present 
state  of  things  be  good  or  bad,  pleasing  to  us  or  unplcasing. 
For  if  the  state  of  things  be  good,  and  such  as  pleases  us. 
then  we  think  a  change  will  never  come;  our  mountain  is 
so  strong,  as  never  to  be  removed  :  and  if  it  be  had,  we 
are  as  apt  to  despond,  that  things  must  be  always  just  as 
they  are  now,  that  it  can  never  be  better. 

10.  Those  that  do  look  forward  unto  what  is  future,  if 
there  be  any  representation  set  before  them,  any  prospect 
of  what  is  more  pleasing  and  grateful  to  them,  are  more  apt 
to  be  curious  about  the  circumstances  of  such  an  expected 
state,  than  to  be  serious  in  minding  the  substantials  that 
do  belong  to  that  slate  itself  And  that  vain  curiosity  to 
inquire,  joined  with  an  overmuch  boldness  in  some  persons 
to  determine  about  the  times  and  seasons,  when  such  and 
such  things  shall  be,  hath  certainly  been  no  small  preju- 
dice unto  the  interest  of  the  Christian  religion  in  our  days, 
upon  a  twofold  account.  The  disappointment  hath  dashed 
the  hopes  of  many  of  the  better  sort,  and  confirmed  the 
atheism  of  those  of  the  worst  sort.  Those  of  the  better  sort 
many  of  them  that  have  allowed  themselves  to  be  so  cu- 
rious and  bold,  curious  in  their  inquiries,  and  bold  in  their 
definitions  and  determinations;  when  ihey  have  found 
themselves  disappointed,  have  been  apt  to  conclude  con- 
cerning all  the  "concernments  of  religion,  as  concerning 
those  vvherein  they  have  found  ihem-elves  disappointed; 
as  thinkinc-,  that  their  imagination  was  as  true  as  the  Gos- 
pel about  these  things  :  and  so.  if  they  have  not  undergone 
the  shock  of  a  'emptatioB  to  adhere  more  easily  and  loose- 
ly unto  the  Christian  profession  upon  account  "of  such  dis- 
appointments, yet  at  least  their  spirits  have  been  as  it 
were  sunk  into  despondency,  because  they  relied  upon 
false  grounds,  and  which  could  not  sustain  a  rational  hope. 
And  then  the  .atheists  and  infidels  have  been  highly  con- 
firmed in  their  scepticism  and  atheism,  because  such  and 


I 


566 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT  IN 


Serm.  II, 


?uch  have  been  so  confident  of  things,  wherein  they  have 
been  mistaken  ;  and  becavxse  they  pretended  to  have  their 
ground  for  their  belief  and  expectation  out  of  the  Scrip- 
lures,  therefore  those  Scriptures  must  sure  signify  nothing. 
These  things  being  considered,  and  we  having  the  case 
so  before  us,  as  these  things  taken  together  do  represent 

II.  That,  which  is  reasonable  to  be  designed  and  ex- 
pected in  discourses  of  this  nature,  and  concerning  such  a 
subject  a?  we  have  here  before  us,  should  be  comprised 
within  such  particulars  as  these. 

1,  To  establish  the  belief  of  this  thing  in  the  substance 
of  it,  being  a  thing  so  very  plain  in  the  Scripture ;  that 
there  shall  be  a  permanent  state  of  tranquillity  and  pros- 
perity unto  the  church  of  Christ  on  earth.  So  much,  I 
doubt  not,  we  have  a  sufficient  ground  for,  in  the  word  of 
truth,  and  even  in  this  very  prophecy  which  this  Scripture 
hath  relation  to ;  as  we  may  have  occasion  further  to 
show. 

2.  To  settle  the  apprehension  fully,  (that  we  should  aim 
at  on  both  sides;  I  in  speaking,  and  you  in  hearing,)  of 
the  connexion  between  an  external  prosperity,  and  this  in- 
ternal flourishing  of  religion  in  the  church,  by  the  com- 
munication of  the  Holy  Ghost  in  larger  and  fuller  measures 
of  it:  the  connexion  of  these  with  one  another  reciprocally, 
so  as  that  there  can  never  be  an  externally  happy  state 
unto  the  church  without  that  communication  of  the  Spirit ; 
and  that  with  it  there  cannot  but  be,  if  we  speak  of  the 
freeing  of  it  from  intestine  troubles,  which  will  be  the  only 
things  that  it  shall  be  liable  to  annoyance  from  in  all  like- 
lihood in  a  further  course  and  tract  of  time. 

Take  the  former  part  of  this  connexion,  that  is, — that 
without  such  a  communication  of  the  Spirit  an  external 
state  of  tranquillity  and  prosperity  to  the  church  Can  never 
be  ; — we  should  design  the  fixing  of  this  apprehension 
well:  for  certainly  they  are  but  vain  expectations,  fond 
wishes,  to  look  for  such  prosperity  without  reference  unto 
that  large  and  general  communication  of  the  Spirit.  Ex- 
perience hath  done  very  much  in  several  parts  of  the  world, 
if  we  had  no  prospect  nearer  us,  to  discover  and  refute  the 
folly  of  any  such  hope,  that  any  external  good  state  of 
things  can  make  the  church  happy.  How  apparent  is  it, 
that  if  there  should  be  never  so  much  a  favourable  aspect 
of  time,  yet  if  men  are  left  to  their  own  spirits,  and  acted 
only  by  them,  all  the  business  will  presently  be  for  one 
person  to  endeavour  to  lurch  another,  and  to  grasp  and  get 
power  in  their  hands  !  and  then  they  will  presently  run 
into  sensuality,  or  make  it  their  business  to  serve  carnal 
and  secular  interests,  grasping  at  this  world,  mingled  with 
the  spirit  of  it.  Thus  it  cannot  but  be,  it  must  be,  if  an 
effusion  of  the  Spirit  be  not  conjunct  in  time  with  any  such 
external  smiles  of  time.  There  can  be  no  good  time  unto 
the  church  of  God,  without  the  giving  of  another  Spirit, 
his  own  Spirit.  That,  or  nothing,  must  make  the  church 
happy. 

And  that  cannot  but  do  it ;  which  is  the  other  side  of 
the  connexion.  For  let  us  but  recount  with  ourselves, 
what  it  must  needs  be,  when  such  a  spirit  shall  be  poured 
forth,  as  by  which  all  shall  be  disposed  and  inclined  to 
love  God,  and  to  devote  themselves  to  him,  and  to  serve 
his  interest,  and  to  love  one  another  as  themselves,  and 
each  one  to  rejoice  in  another's  welfare,  so  as  that  the  good 
and  advantage  of  one  shall  be  the  joy  and  delight  of  all ! 
when  men  shall  have  no  designs  one  upon  another,  no 
endeavours  of  tripping  up  one  another's  heels,  nor  of  rais- 
ing themselves  upon  one  another's  ruins!  This  cannot  but 
infer  a  good  state  of  things,  excepting  what  may  be  from 
external  enemies.  It  is  true  indeed,  that  when  there  was 
the  largest  communication  of  the  Spirit  that  ever  was  in 
the  church,  yet  it  was  molested  by  pagans :  but  then  it 
was  not  troublesome  in  itself,  it  did  not  contend  part  by 
part  with  itself.  And  if  the  communication  of  the  Spirit, 
as  we  have  reason  to  expect  in  the  latter  days,  be  very 
general,  so  as  not  only  to  improve  and  heighten  the  church 
in  respect  of  internal  liveliness  and  vigour ;  but  also  to  in- 
crease it  in  extent,  as  no  doubt  it  will ;  then  less  of  trouble 
is  to  be  feared  from  without.  But  we  shall  still  be  miser- 
able, and  it  cannot  be  avoided  but  we  must  be  so,  if  with 
the  smiles  of  the  times  a  large  communication  of  the  Spirit 
*  Preaclied  May  15th,  1678. 


be  not  conjunct.     It  is  also  to  be  designed  in  such  a  dis- 
course, 

3.  To  mind  more  what  is  substantial  in  that  good  state 
of  things,  whereof  we  speak,  than  the  circumstances  that 
belong  thereto;  and  especially  than  the  time  and  seas<..a, 
when  it  may  be  hoped  any  such  good  state  of  things  shall 
commence.  And  that  we  may  be  taken  oiTfrom  too  much 
busying  ourselves  about  that,  I  shall  shut  up  all  with  two 
or  three  considerations  :  As, 

1st,  That  to  have  our  minds  and  hearts  more  set  upon 
the  best  state  of  things  that  it  is  possible  the  church  should 
ever  arrive  to  on  earth,  than  upon  the  state  of  perfect  feli- 
city above,  is  a  very  great  distemper,  and  which  we  ought 
to  reckon  intolerable  by  any  means  to  indulge  ourselves  in. 
We  know,  none  of  us  can  live  in  this  world  but  a  little 
while  ;  and  that  there  is  a  state  of  perfect  rest  and  tran- 
quillity and  glory  remaining  for  the  people  of  God.  We 
have  therefore  no  pretence  for  being  curious  in  our  in- 
quiries about  what  time  such  or  such  good  things  may 
fall  out  to  the  church  of  God  in  this  world.  It  is  a  great 
piece  of  fondness  to  cast  in  our  own  thoughts.  Is  it  pos- 
sible that  I  may  live  to  see  it  1  For  ought  we  know, 
there  may  be  but  a  hand's  breadth  between  us  and  glory, 
if  we  belong  to  God  ;  to-morrow  may  be  the  time  of  our 
translation.  We  ought  to  live  in  the  continual  expectation 
of  dying,  and  of  coming  to  a  better  state  than  the  church 
can  ever  be  in  here.  It  argues  a  great  infirmity,  a  distem- 
per in  our  spirits,  that  we  should  reflect  upon  with  seve- 
rit}',  if  we  should  be  more  curious  to  see  a  good  state  of 
things  in  this  world,  than  to  see  the  best  that  can  ever  be, 
and  infinitely  better  than  we  can  think,  in  heaven.  And, 

2dly,  That,  as  for  that  part  of  the  good  condition  of  the 
church,  which  consists  in  the  communication  of  the  Spirit; 
so  much  of  it  as  is  necessary  for  us  we  may  have  at  any 
time,  if  we  be  not  wanting  to  ourselves,  and  are  of  those 
that  belong  to  God,  any  of  that  seed  that  by  this  Spirit 
have  been  raised  up  to  Christ.  It  must  be  our  fault,  if  we 
have  not  so  much  of  the  Spirit  as  is  requisite  for  our  com- 
fortable walking  with  God  in  this  world.  And  I  add 
hereupon, 

3dly,  That  that  which  is  common  to  all  times,  yea,  and 
common  both  to  time  and  eternity,  certainly  ought  to  be 
the  greatest  thing  with  us,  and  upon  which  our  hearts 
should  be  most  set.  Let  us  but  be  intent  upon  this,  to 
get  a  large  measure  of  the  Spirit  into  our  own  souls  ;  this 
may  be  had  at  any  time,  if  we  do  not  neglect  ourselves  and 
the  rules  that  God  hath  set  us  :  and  this  is  a  thing  com- 
mon to  time  and  eternity.  They  that  sow  to  the  Spirit, 
shall  of  the  Spirit  reap  life  everlasting.  Gal.  vi.  8.  And 
therefore  look  we  upon  things  according  to  the  proper  im- 
portance of  them,  and  what  they  carry  in  themselves.  Sure 
I  am,  that  without  much  of  the  Spirit  all  the  best  things 
that  this  world  can  afibrd  me  will  never  do  me  the  least 
good  :  I  may  be  a  great  deal  the  worse  for  them,  but  never 
a  whit  the  better.  But  if  I  have  much  of  this  Spirit,  things 
can  never  go  ill  with  me ;  I  shall  be  carried  through  what- 
ever hardships  shall  fall  to  my  share,  and  be  within  the 
compass  of  my  lot,  while  I  am  in  this  world,  and  never 
regret  the  thought  of  them,  when  once  I  arrive  to  the 
other  shore  ;  but  forget  all  these  troubles,  like  the  waters 
that  pass  away,  as  the  expression  is  in  Job  xi.  16. 


SERMON  II.* 

Such  things  having  been  forelaid,  we  may  adventure  to 
enter  upon  the  consideration  of  the  former  of  the  truths 
proposed,  viz. — That  there  is  a  state  of  tranquillity  and 
prosperity  appointed  for  the  church  of  God,  for  some  con- 
siderable tract  of  time  here  in  this  world. — And  concern- 
ing that,  there  are  two  things  that  I  shall  labour  to  evince 
to  you  :  1.  That  it  is  a  very  happy  and  prosperous  state, 
which  these  words  do  manifestly  import  and  refer  unto  ; 
and,  2.  That  that  state  is  yet  future;  or  that  what  is  here 
predicted  concerning  it  is  not  yet  fulfilled. 

I.  That  it  is  a  very  happy  state  of  things  that  is  here 


Serm.  II. 


REFERENCE  TO  THE  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH. 


567 


referred  unto,  is  plain  from  the  very  import  of  the  words  of 
the  text.  "  Neither  will  I  hide  lay  face  any  more  from 
them."  What  can  we  conceive  desirable,  which  these  ex- 
pressions may  not  be  understood  to  signify  ?  But  if  we  un- 
derstand them  to  signify  only  a  slate  of  external  prosperity, 
(and  because  any  further  meaning,  which  the  words  in 
themselves  might  admit  of,  is  fully  carried  under  the  other 
expression  of  his  pouring  out  his  Spirit;  and  that  is  made 
casual  of  this,  and  nothing  can  be  a  cause  to  itself;  there- 
fore we  do  understand  them  only  of  outward  prosperity,) 
yet  surely  that  must  be  a  very  happy  and  prosperous  state, 
Avhich  such  an  expression  is  chosen  to  signify;  that  God 
will  shine  upon  them  with  most  benign  aspects  of  provi- 
dence. What  can  go  amiss  with  a  people,  upon  whom  he 
doth  so  1 

And  if  we  consider  the  reference  of  these  words  unto 
■what  goes  before,  and  the  place  which  they  have  in  that 
series  of  discourse  with  which  they  stand  connected,  and 
wherein  they  make  a  part ;  it  will  be  very  evident  upon 
review,  that  they  have  reference  to  a  very  happy  state  of 
things  foretold.  If  you  consider  the  whole  book  of  these 
prophecies,  you  will  find,  that  any  thing  consolatory  unto 
this  people,  directly  and  properly  said  to  them,  except 
what  is  occasionally  here  and  there  let  fall,  doth  but  begin 
■with  the  36th  chapter.  The  former  chapters  of  this  book 
are  either  full  of  reprehensions  or  comminations  of  the 
people;  the  first  twenty-four  chapters  are  generally  taken 
up  so  ;  or  else  in  predictions  of  judgments  and  vengeance' 
upon  their  enemies ;  (which  doth  collaterally  and  on  the 
by  import  favour  to  them ;)  the  Edomites,  and  the  Egyp- 
tians, and  the  Amorites,  the  Moabites,  the  Philistines,  the 
Tyrians,  and  the  Sidonians.  Sundry  of  the  following 
chapters  after  the  twenty-four  first  are  taken  up  so.  But 
these  four  lying  here  all  connected  together,  (the  36th, 
37th,  38th,  and  39ih,)  are  wholly  taken  up  in  comfortable 
predictions  unto  this  people,  speaking  of  their  happy  state 
in  themselves;  though  also  the  destruction  of  such  ene- 
mies, as  did  most  stand  in  the  way  of  that  promised  felicity, 
is  here  and  there  interserted.  And  then  all  the  following 
chapters,  the  40th,  and  the  rest  to  the  end,  are  a  continued 
prophetical  and  emblematical  description  of  the  settled 
happy  state,  wherein  they  should  be,  after  they  were  re- 
stored ;  as  in  the  description  of  the  meaning  and  building 
of  the  city  and  temple  you  see  at  large.  And  if  we  should 
go  to  point  out  particulars  to  you,  you  will  find,  that  such 
as  these  do  properly  and  fully  lie  up  and  down  in  these 
chapters  that  I  have  mentioned^  and  which  seem  to  be  all 
of  a  piece  congenerous  unto  one  another. 

1.  Their  reduction  from  their  captivity;  that  they  shall 
all  be  brought  back  and  gathered  out  of  the  several  heathen 
nations  of  the  world,  where  they  were  scattered  and  dis- 
persed to  and  fro. 

2.  The  reparation  of  all  desolation,  the  great  building  of 
their  wasted  cities. 

3.  The  great  fruitfulness  of  their  land.  I  will  not  direct 
you  to  the  particular  passages,  where  these  things  are 
mentioned ;  but  you  may  at  your  leisure  view  over  these 
chapters,  and  you  will  find  them  all. 

4.  The  great  multiplication  and  numerousness  of  their 
inhabitants. 

5.  Their  most  entire  victory  and  conquest  over  their 
most  potent  and  troublesome  enemies. 

6.  Their  entire  union  among  themselves,  under  one 
king ;  as  you  may  see  in  the  37th  chapter.  The  making 
of  that  scattered  people  entirely  one,  that  so  divided  people, 
so  broken  from  themselves,  Israel  and  Judah,  one  stick  in 
God's  own  hand.     And, 

7.  God's  owning  them  visibly  as  his  people,  and  taking 
them  anew  into  covenant  with  himself,  having  pardoned 
their  iniquities,  and  cleansed  them  from  all  their  filthiness 
and  their  idols,  and  so  restored  the  relation  between  him- 
self and  them.  Certainly  the  concurrence  of  all  these 
things  cannot  but  make  a  ver)^  happy  state. 

II.  That  such  a  state  of  things  is  yet  future,  requires  to 
be  somewhat  more  at  large  insisted  on.  And  for  the 
evincing  of  it,  it  is  manifest  that  such  predictions  must 
have  a  signification  in  reference  unto  the  people  of  Israel, 
according  to  one  understanding  or  another  of  that  term  or 
name,  "  the  house  of  Israel."  And  we  can  have  but  these 
two    senses  to  reflect  upon ;   either  that  it  must  mean 


Jacob's  natural  seed ;  or  else  the  church  of  God  in  the 
world  in  common,  his  universal  church,  including  and 
comprehending  such  of  Israel  as  have  been,  or  at  anytime 
shall  be,  called,  and  brought  within  the  compa.ss  of  the 
Christian  church.  Now^  take  either  of  these  senses  of  that 
compcllation,  and  I  suppose  it  capable  of  being  plainly 
enough  evinced,  that  such  a  happy  state  of  things  hath  not 
been  as  yet,  and  therefore  is  to  be  looked  upon  as  still 
future. 

1.  If  you  take  Israel  in  the  former  .sense,  it  is  verj'  plain 
that  these  prophecies  have  not  been  accomplished  to  the 
natural  seed  of  Israel.     Particularly, 

1st,  That  people  have  never  been  entirely  restored  to 
their  own  land.  The  prophecy  concerning  the  dr}'  bones 
that  should  be  made  to  live,  in  chap,  xxxvii.  is  expressly 
said  to  concern  the  whole  house  of  Israel,  ver.  11.  But  it 
is  plain,  that  the  whole  house  of  Israel  in  the  literal  sense 
hath  not  been  restored.  What  became  of  the  ten  tribes 
we  do  not  know.  This  is  a  thing  about  which  there  is 
much  dissentation ;  but  none  that  I  can  tell  are  able  to 
determine  where  or  in  what  part  of  the  world  they  are. 
It  is  true  indeed  that  we  find  the  apo.stle  .speaking  of  the 
piety  of  the  twelve  tribes.  Acts  xxvi.  7.  Our  twelve  tribes, 
instantly  serving  God  day  and  night,  hope  to  come  unto 
the  promise  of  the  resurrection.  But  that  can  only  be 
understood  to  mean,  either  that  Salmanazer,  -when  he  car- 
ried away  the  ten  tribes,  left  some ;  and  yet  it  is  plain  that 
he  left  ver}'  few,  insomuch  that  the  new  inhabitants  wanted 
some  to  instruct  them  in  the  manner  of  the  wor.ship  of  the 
God  of  the  land;  or  that  some  few  might  return  of  the 
several  tribes,  here  and  there  one.  But  that  they  returned 
in  a  body,  we  have  no  reason  at  all  to  think  ;  and  so  this 
prophecy  hath  not  been  fulfilled  in  reference  to  the  main 
body  of  the  ten  tribes,  concerning  their  restitution,  and 
that  resurrection  that  is  imported  by  the  enlivening  into 
living  men  those  dry  bones. 

2ndly.  That  people  have  never  been  reunited  into  one 
people,  the  two  tribes  and  the  ten.  But  that  is  expre.«:sly 
predicted  in  the  prophecy  of  the  two  sticks  made  one, 
Ephraim  or  Joseph,  and  Judah.  The  prophet  is  directed 
to  take  two  sticks,  (chap,  xxxvii.)  emblematically  to  signify 
that  twofold  people,  of  the  ten  tribes,  and  the  two  tribes, 
and  these  sticks  are  represented  to  him  as  made  one  :  anci 
the  Lord  tells  him  the  signification  of  the  prophecy  is  thi^, 
that  he  would  make  these  two  entirely  one  people.  It  is 
plain,  whatever  there  were  of  the  ten  tribes  that  did  return 
from  their  captivity,  they  never  came  into  a  union  with 
the  two  ;  but  they  were  so  much  divided  from  one  another, 
even  in  the  matter  of  religion,  that  we  see  by  what  is  re- 
corded in  John  iv.  that  a  Samaritan  woman  made  a  scru- 
ple to  give  a  little  water  unto  one  whom  she  took  lor  a 
Jew,  that  is,  our  Saviour  himself.  And  they  were  so  much 
divided  upon  other  accounts,  consequently  upon  that  di- 
vision in  reference  to  matters  of  religion,  that,  as  one  of 
the  heathen  poets  says,  they  would  not  so  much  a.s  show 
the  way  to  one  that  was  not  of  their  religion;  Non  moTi- 
strare  vias,  eadem  nisi  sacra  CQlenti. 

3dly,  There  hath  been  no  such  signal  destruction  of 
their  enemies,  as  is  here  foretold,  in  the  chapter  where  the 
text  lies,  and  the  foregoing;  those  enemies  that  are  spoken 
of  under  the  name  of  Gog  and  Magog.  I  shall  not  trouble 
you  with  the  variety  of  opinions  concerning  the  proper 
signification  of  those  names,  and  the  people  designed  by 
them ;  but  whosoever  can  be  understood  by  them,  there 
hath  been  no  such  thing  accomplished  in  reference  to  the 
house  of  Israel  literally  taken,  as  the  prophecy  of  so  great 
a  destruction  doth  import.  Some  have  thought  the  suc- 
cessors of  Seleucus,  expressly  and  chiefly  Antiochus 
Epiphanes,  to  be  meant;  against  whom  the  people  of 
Israel  were  successful  in  their  wars  at  some  times.  But 
no  such  destruction,  as  comes  any  whit  near  the  terms  of 
this  prophecy,  can  ever  be  understood  to  have  befallen 
those  enemies.  There  is  not  the  least  shadow  nor  footstep 
of  such  a  way  of  destruction,  as  is  meniioned  in  chap, 
xxxviii.  That  they  should  be  destroyed  miraculously,  by 
hailstones,  by  fire  and  brimstone,  (ver.  2-3.)  that  there 
should  be  such  vast  multitudes  destroyed,  as  that  the  very 
weapons  should  serve  this  people  for  fuel  seven  years  to- 
gether, chap,  xxxix.  9,  10.  Certainlv  take  Israel  in  the 
literal  sense,  and  understand  the  prediction  in  a  proper- 


5G8 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT  IN 


Serm.  II 


tionable  sense,  there  halh  been  no  such  thing  ever  yet  done 
and  past. 

4thly,  There  halh  been  no  such  city  built,  and  no  such 
temple  raised,  as  will  answer  the  descriptions  in  these  pro- 
phecies; as  is  most  apparent,  if  you  look  from  the  40lh 
chapter  onward  to  the  end.  Especially,  that  there  should 
be  such  waters  issuing  from  the  temjile,  rising  from  the 
sancluarj',  and  carried  in  a  great  river,  till  at  last  it  comes, 
after  so  vast  a  course  and  tract  of  running,  to  fall  into  the 
Dead  sea,  and  to  heal  those  waters.  Take  this  in  the 
literal  sense,  and  no  such  thing  hath  ever  been,  or,  for 
aught  I  know,  is  ever  like  to  be;  it  is  very  improbable  it 
should.  So  little  reason  there  is,  either  to  think  there  hath 
been  any  literal  accomplishment  of  these  things,  or  that  the 
literal  sense  is  that  whereunto  we  are  to  adhere. 

5ihly,  It  is  expressly  said,  that  they  should  all  have 
David  to  be  their  king,  chap,  xxxvii.  24,  25.  This  cannot 
be  meant  literally.  It  was  impossible  he  should  be  their 
king,  that  was  dead  so  many  hundred  years  before.  Nor 
c.in  we  understand  the  prophecy  to  have  been  accom- 
plished in  reference  to  Israel  literally  taken ;  for  suppose 
}'ou  take  David  to  mean  Christ,  as  it  must  be  taken,  sure 
all  Israel  are  not  yet  become  Christians,  they  are  not  yet 
united  under  Christ.  And  therefore  it  is  more  than  evi- 
dent, that  according  to  the  literal  sense  of  Israel,  though 
we  should  take  the  things  prophesied  not  strictly  in  the 
literal  sense,  yet  they  cannot  be  understood  to  have  had 
their  accomplishment  yet. 

2.  If  we  go  the  other  way,  and  take  Israel  to  signify  the 
Christian  church,  and  so  not  to  exclude,  but  to  compre- 
hend, Israel  in  the  proper,  natural,  literal  sense,  being  be- 
come Christians,  so  many  of  them  as  have  been  so,  or  shall 
be  so ;  so  these  prophecies  have  not  yet  been  fulfilled. 
That  is,  in  reference  to  the  universal  church,  it  will  ajjpear, 
I  hat  it  hath  had  no  such  happy  state  as  these  prophecies 
do  amount  unto;  neither  in  point  of  degree,  nor  in  point 
of  duration  and  permanency. 

1st,  They  have  not  had  a  happy  state  unto  that  degree, 
that  is  imported  in  these  prophecies,  and  which  even  the 
text  itself  doth  summarily  import.  There  are  especially 
tliese  three  things  to  concur:  1.  The  destruction  of  their 
external  enemies  ;  2.  A  very  peaceful,  composed,  united 
state  of  things  among  themselves ;  and,  3.  A  very  lively, 
vigorous  slate  of  religion.  Now  a  state  composed  and  made 
up  of  the  concurrence  of  these  three,  hath  not  befallen  unto 
the  church  of  God  as  yet.  There  hath  been  no  such  de- 
struction of  their  external  enemies,  as  can  be  understood 
to  amount  to  the  meaning  of  what  is  here  predicted  con- 
cerning that ;  no  such  victory  obtained,  as  this  destruction 
of  Gog  and  Magog  doth  import ;  no  such,  as  the  success 
and  issue  of  that  famous  battle  of  Armageddon,  which 
some  would  have  to  be  past ;  though  there  is,  after  that,  a 
later  destruclion  of  Gog  and  Magog  manifestly  spoken  of 
in  the  20th  of  the  Revelations.  But  for  such,  as  would 
have  that  famous  battle  to  be  already  past ;  that  which 
they  pitch  upon  as  most  probable,  was  that  great  battle  be- 
tween Constantine  and  Maxentius ;  the  victory  of  the 
former  over  the  latter  by  less  than  an  100,000  men,  against 
the  other  opposing  him  with  almost  double  that  number. 
And  it  must  be  acknowledged,  that  that  was  a  very  great 
victory,  and  of  very  great  concernment  unto  the  Christian 
church  ;  but  noway  at  all  correspondent,  either  unto  what 
is  foretold  concerning  the  thing  itself  in  these  prophecies 
of  Ezekiel ;  or  unto  the  consequent  events  upon  what  is 
said  of  the  battle  of  Armageddon,  in  Rev.  xvi.  16.  There 
was  no  such  continued  peaceful  state,  that  did  ensue  to  the 
church  after  that  victory.  There  was  indeed  a  calm  and 
serenity  in  Constantine's  time,  mixed  with  a  great  deal  of 
internal  trouble  within  the  church  itself,  and  which  in- 
creased upon  it  more  afterwards,  and  so  still  unto  greater 
degrees  for  several  centuries  of  years;  as  we  shall  have 
occasion  to  take  notice  more  upon  another  head.  There 
was  no  such  flourishing  state  of  religion  that  did  ensue, 
answerable  to  the  expression  of  the  text,  "  I  have  poured 
out  my  Spirit  upon  them,  saith  the  Lord  God."  And  so 
there  was  not  a  happy  state,  made  up  by  the  conjunction 
and  concurrence  of  the  things  which  must  concur.  There 
was  in  Constantine's  time,  and  after,  much  of  tranquillity, 
by  the  cessation  of  persecution  from  without ;  but  there 
was  less  of  the  life  and  vigour  and  power  of  religion.    That  | 


appeared  a  great  deal  more  eminently  in  the  suflering 
state  and  condition  of  the  church;  and  prosperity  was  too 
hard  for  religion,  much  more  than  adversity  had  been;  as 
all,  that  know  any  thing  of  the  history  of  those  times, 
know.  There  hath  been  no  such  eminent  destruction  of 
the  church's  enemies;  no  such  internal  tranquillity  and 
peace  wifhin  the  church  itself;  no  such  lively  vigorous 
flourishing  state  of  religion  by  the  pouring  forth  of  the 
Spirit;  there  hath  been  no  such  concurrence  of  these,  as 
to  make  up  that  measure  and  degree  of  happiness  to  the 
church,  that  is  here  plainly  foretold. 

2dly,  For  the  permanency  and  duration  of  such  a  happy 
state  of  things,  it  is  apparent,  that  they  fall  unspeakably 
short  of  making  any  thing  out  to  that  purpose,  who  would 
have  the  things  to  be  past  that  are  here  spoken  of.  It  is  a 
duration  of  a  thousand  years;  that  seems  referred  unto  as 
the  measure  of  that  happy  state  that  is  here  foretold  ;  if 
you  compare  these  prophecies  of  Ezekiel  with  those  that 
seem  .so  very  much  akin  to  them  in  the  book  of  the  Reve- 
lations, especially  the  20lh  chapter.  Even  those,  that 
would  have  these  things  to  be  past,  do  acknowledge  these 
prophecies  to  refer  unto  one  time  and  one  state,  unio  one 
sort  of  enemies,  and  unto  the  church  of  God  considered 
under  one  and  the  same  notion,  that  is,  the  Christian 
church.  But  the  difficulty  is  very  great  to  assign  the  be- 
ginning, and  consequently  the  period,  of  such  a  thousand 
years. 

For  my  own  part,  I  will  not  assert  any  of  these  following 
things.  Either,  1.  That  that  thousand  years  doth  precisely 
and  punctually  mean  such  a  limited  interval  of  time  ; 
however  more  probable  it  may  seem  that  it  doth  so,  and 
though  it  be  confessed  to  do  so  by  them  that  would  have 
these  things  to  be  past.  Nor,  2.  "That  Christ  shall  person- 
ally appear,  as  some  are  bold  to  assert,  at  the  battle  of  Ar- 
mageddon ;  and  that  he  shall  personally  reign  afterwards 
upon  the  earth  for  a  thousand  years.  Nor,  3.  That  theie 
will  be  any  resurrection,  before  that  time  do  commence,  of 
the  bodies  of  departed  saints.  Nor,  4.  That  the  happiness 
of  that  time  shall  consist  in  sensual  enjoyments;  which  was 
the  conceit  of  Cerinthus  and  his  followers;  and  which 
caused  the  Millenaries  to  pass  under  the  name  of  so  od  ious 
a  sect  of  old,  by  those  who  had  taken  notice  of  them, 
Epiphanius,  and  Austin  after  him,  and  others ;  for  they 
reckoned  the  felicity  of  those  times  should  very  much  con- 
sist in  a  voluptuous  life,  that  persons  should  have  every 
thing  to  the  full  that  should  be  grateful  to  their  sense,  ail 
opportunity  to  indulge  appetite,  and  the  like.  And  least 
of  all,  5.  That  in  this  state  of  things  the  saints,  as  such, 
shall  have  any  power  or  right  given  them  in  the  properties 
of  other  men  ;  or  that  there  shall  be  a  disturbing  and  over- 
turning of  ranks  and  orders  in  civil  societies.  I  don't 
think,  that  any  of  these  things  are  confidently  to  be  assert- 
ed ;  and  for  the  two  last,  they  carry  no  other  face,  than  of 
things  to  be  abhorred  and  detested. 

But  I  conceive  that  thousand  years  to  intend  a  very  long 
and  considerable  intervalor  tract  of  time,  wherein  the  state 
and  condition  of  the  church  shall  be  peaceful  and  serene 
and  happy;  but  especially,  (as  we  shall  have  occasion 
more  to  show  hereafter,)  by  a  large  communication  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,  that  shall  make  men  have  very  little  mind  to 
this  world,  and  very  little  seek  .such  a  thing  as  serving 
secular  interests,  and  pleasing  and  gratifying  their  senses 
and  sensual  inclinations. 

And  that  this  state  of  things  is  not  yet  pa.st.  So  much, 
I  think,  we  may  with  some  confidence  assert ;  that  is, 
there  is  not  such  a  state  of  things,  of  such  a  constitution 
as  that  whereof  you  have  heard,  that  hath  been  in  any  such 
permanency,  as  that  thousand  years,  though  not  strictly 
taken,  yet  must  rationally  be  understood  to  signify.  They, 
that  would  have  such  a  thousand  years  to  be  already  past, 
are  in  very  great  difficulties  about  the  commencement  of  it. 
Some  would  have  it  to  begin  with  the  beginning  of  Con- 
stantine's reign,  and  so  to  end  proportionably  from  that 
day  to  a  thousand  years  strictly ;  for  just  so  much  time. 
And  others  would  place  the  beginning  of  that  time  a  con- 
siderable while  after;  a  hundred,  or  a  hundred  and  forty, 
or  a  hundred  and  fifty  years  after ;  that  is,  from  the  time 
of  the  taking  and  sacking  of  Rome  by  Alaricus  and  his 
Goths;  or  by  Gensericus  and  his  Vandals;  tmtil  which 
destructions,   the   latter   especially,   Rome   did   continue 


Serm.  III. 


REFERENCE  TO  THE  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH. 


5C9 


^ 


pagan  though  the  empire  was  in  Christian  hands;  and 
that  therefore  this  thousand  years,  wherein  Satan  is  said 
to  be  bound,  began  after  that  paganism  was  quite  extirpat- 
ed and  banished  from  Rome ;  and  yet  those  that  go  that 
way,  still  more  incline  to  the  former  account.  If  .so,  cer- 
tainly such  things  must  be  acknowledged  to  have  fallen 
within  the  compass  of  the  thousand  years,  as  the  limits  of 
them  are  set  among  themselves,  as  we  would  think  very 
ill  to  agree  with  a  state  of  things,  wherein  Satan  should  be 
bound.  According  to  the  former  account,  that  persecution 
by  Julian  must  come  within  it ;  it  is  true  indeed  that  was 
not  of  long  continuance,  nor  very  bloody ;  but  a  nubecula, 
(as  Athanasius  said  of  it,)  that  would  soon  pass  over;  yet 
it  was  a  very  manifest  prejudice  that  he  did  to  the  Christ- 
ian interest,  by  those  cunning  arts  he  used  in  his  time ;  far 
more  prejudice,  than  had  been  done  it  by  the  bloody  per- 
secutions of  former  times  ;  as  may  sufficiently  appear  by  a 
view  of  the  slate  of  things  in  those  days,  when  it  was  not 
so  much  as  permitted  the  children  of  Christians  to  be 
taught  any  of  the  learned  languages.  They  were  par- 
ticularly forbidden  to  be  taught  the  Greek,  upon  which  oc- 
casion I  remember  Gregory  Nazianzen  hath  this  expres- 
sion, "  But  I  hope  though  we  maynot  speak  Greek,  we  maj' 
be  allowed  to  speak  truth  ;  and  while  we  may  be  allowed 
to  do  so,  as  long  as  we  have  tongues,  we  will  never  forbear 
speaking."  But  it  was  a  great  check,  that  was  put  upon 
the  interest  of  Christianity  by  that  means ;  and  very  un- 
likely to  be  so  soon  after  the  commencement  of  the  thou- 
sand years.  And  besides  that,  all  the  dreadful  persecution 
of  the  orthodox  by  the  Avians  immediately  falls  in  ;  "  who 
persecuted  the  orthodox,"  (as  one  speaks  writing  of  those 
times,)  '^stevius  et  durivs,  a  great  deal  more  harshly,  more 
severely,  more  horridly,  than  ever  the  pagans  had  done  be- 
fore them ;  when  even  all  the  world  was  against  Athanasius, 
and  he  alone  was  forced  to  sustain  the  brunt  of  the  whole 
world ;"  ver}^  unlike  to  a  time,  wherein  the  devil  was  bou nd ! 
And  then  falls  in  with  the  same  time  that  strange  and  por- 
tentous growth  of  the  Mahometan  religion  ;  and  was  that, 
too,  while  Satan  was  bound  1  And  in  the  Christian  church, 
the  greatest  tyranny  among  the  church-governors,  the 
greatest  stupidity  for  several  centuries  of  years  among  the 
priests  and  clergy,  the  greatest  viciousness  and  debauchery 
among  the  generality  of  people,  that  we  can  possibly  tell 
how  to  frame  an  imagination  of.  Besides,  that  within  the 
same  compass  of  time  must  fall  out  the  bloody  massacres 
of  the  poor  Waldenses,  about  the  11th,  12th,  and  13th 
centuries.  Certainly,  if  all  this  while  Satan  was  bound, 
we  can  never  think  of  a  time  when  he  was  loose.  And 
therefore,  in  point  of  permanency,  there  hath  not  been  no 
such  continuing  happy  state  to  the  church,  as  yet  past  and 
over,  which  these  predictions  do  most  plainly  refer  unto. 
And  therefore  we  have  the  thing  first  proposed  I  conceive 
in  good  measure  cleared,  that  there  is  a  state  yet  to  come 
of  very  great  tranquillity  and  prosperity  to  the  church  of 
God  for  some  considerable  tract  of  time. 

I  cannot  now  stand  to  apply  this  according  to  what  it 
challenges  ;  these  two  things  1  shall  only  for  the  present 
hint  to  you. 

1.  This  being  a  matter  revealed  in  the  word  of  God,  our 
faith  ought  to  have  an  exercise  upon  it.  We  should  be- 
lieve, that  there  is  such  a  state  of  things  yet  to  come,  and 
have  affections  raised  in  our  hearts  proportionable  unto 
such  a  revelation.  It  would  be  unreasonable  to  say,  that 
we  are  to  be  afiected  with  nothing  but  what  is  present,  and 
comes  under  our  notice  by  way  of  experience,  our  own 
experience,  contrary  to  the  temper  which  Abraham  dis- 
covered, who  rejoiced  in  the  foresight  of  Christ's  day,  than 
so  very  far  off.  Abraham  rejoiced  to  see  my  day;  and  he 
saw  it,  and  was  glad,  John  viii.  56.  We  shovild  foresee 
such  a  state  of  things  with  gladness;  our  hearts  should 
be  comforted  upon  the  apprehension  of  it.  If  we  can  have 
no  enjoyment  of  future  mercies  that  are  designed  unto 
the  church  of  God,  how  should  there  have  been  any  enjoy- 
ment of  past  mercies  unto  them  that  have  lived  long  after  1 
We  find  that  to  have  been  the  temper  of  the  people  of  God 
of  old,  that  they  have  much  enjoyed  and  lived  upon  ancient 
mercies,  mercies  long  ago  past ;  as  you  may  see  in  such 
memorials  as  you  have  in  the  105th  and  lOGlh  Psalms,  and 
in  other  places  of  Scripture.  I  will  remember  the  years  of 
«  Preached  May  22, 1679. 


the  right  hand  of  the  most  High,  Psalm  Ixxvii.  10.  What 
triumphs  and  exultations  do  you  oftentimes  meet  v.  i  h  t 
the  book  of  P.salms,  upon  the  account  of  the  destruction 
of  Pharaoh  and  his  Egyptians  in  the  Red  sea,  and  the 
conduct  of  the  people  of  Israel  through  the  wilderness  1 
Why,  if  memory  will  serve  to  fetch  former  mercies  into 
our  present  enjoyment,  certainly  faith  should  serve  to  fetch 
future  mercies  into  our  present  enjoyment  too,  and  give  us 
the  taste  and  relish  of  them. 

We  should  take  encouragement  hence  against  the  pre- 
sent horrid  atheism  and  wickedness,  that  doth  so  afiront 
the  interest  of  religion  at  this  day.  We  are  too  much  apt 
to  pass  our  judgment  upon  things  by  very  undue  mea- 
sures ;  to  judge  by  the  present  sight  of  our  own  eye,  that 
that  is  well  w^iich  we  apprehend,  or  which  carries  a  sen- 
sible appearance  with  it  of  being  well  for  the  present ;  but 
to  forget,  that  it  is  always  somewhat  future,  that  must  give 
a  determination  unto  that  which  is  simply  best  or  other- 
wise ;  that  a  judgment  is  not  to  pass,  till  we  come  to  the 
end  of  things,  till  we  see  what  will  become  of  matters  in 
their  final  issue.  There  will  be  a  day  of  distinguishing, 
even  in  this  woild,  in  point  of  the  external  favours  of  pro- 
vidence, between  them  that  fear  the  Lord,  and  them  that 
fear  him  not.  And  though  now  the  spirit  of  atheism  be 
insolent,  so  as  it  never  wa.s  in  any  age,  no  not  so  much  in 
any  pagan  nation  ;  and  that  where  the  Christian  name  is 
professed,  even  amongst  ourselves;  do  we  think  therefore 
that  atheists  and  their  religion  shall  carrj' the  cause?  No: 
if  we  will  but  frame  to  ourselves  the  prospect,  whicli  the 
word  of  God  gives  us  an  advantage  and  warrant  to  do,  it 
would  guide  our  judgments  much  another  way  ;  to  think, 
that  that  must  need  be  the  better  side  and  the  better  part, 
which  shall  be  successful  and  prevailing  at  last.  It  is 
most  eligible  to  be  on  that  side  which  shall  finally  prosper, 
when  God  comes  to  lay  claim  to  us,  to  challenge  our  help 
in  bearing  a  witness  to  his  name  and  truth  and  holy  ways: 
"  Come,  who  will  take  part  with  me  against  an  ungodly 
race  of  men  1  Who  will  be  religious  in  this  irreligious 
age  1  Who  fear  God,  when  it  is  counted  matter  of  re- 
proach, and  an  argum.ent  of  a  weak  and  crazy  spirit,  for 
men  to  fear  and  dread  an  invisible  Being  V  It  would  help 
your  resolution  much,  would  you  think  in  this  case,  thai 
there  will  be  a  time  when  God  shall  he  visibly  owned  in 
the  world,  and  when  it  shall  cease  to  be  a  reproachlul  thing 
to  be  a  religious  man,  a  fearer  of  the  Lord. 


SERMON  III.* 

We  have  spoken  already  of  this  proposition, — That  there 
is  a  state  of  very  great  prosperity  and  tranquillity,  for  a 
considerable  tract  of  time,  appointed  lor  the  church  of  God 
on  earth. — We  have  offered  several  things  to  assert  the 
truth  of  it ;  and  made  some  use  of  it,  to  recommend  it  as 
a  fit  object  to  be  entertained  by  our  faith;  and  that  we 
should  take  encouragement  from  it  against  the  prevailing 
atheism  and  wickedness  of  this  apostate  world,  which  hath 
borne  so  much  sway  in  it  through  many  ages,  upon  that 
prospect  which  this  truth  gives  us,  of  a  time  and  state  of 
things,  wherein  it  shall  cea.se  to  be  so,  wherein  religion 
shall  lift  up  the  head,  and  outface  the  wickedness  of  a  cor- 
rupt and  depraved  race  of  men  ;  when  this  very  earth  it- 
.self,  that  hath  been  the  state  of  God's  dishonour  through 
so  long  a  tract  of  time,  shall  be  the  state  of  his  glor}-. 

But  here  some  may  be  apt  to  say ; — "  To  what  purpose 
is  all  this,  when  no  hope  is  given  us  of  seeing  any  such 
good  state  of  things  in  our  days  1  If  we  are  not  encouraged 
to  expect,  with  our  own  eyes',  to  see  such  a  happy  state  of 
things,  had  not  we  as  good  take  all  our  comforts  and  en- 
couragements from  the  expectation  of  a  judgment-day  to 
come,  and  an  eternal  state  1  What  doth  it  signify  to  have 
any  representation  made  to  us  of  a  good  state  of  things  on 
earth,  which  we  are  told  it  is  likely  we  shall  fare  never 
the  belter  for  "?" 

This  is  a  thing  that  requires  to  be  distinctly  disctissedj 
and  tlierefore  I  shall  spend  some  time  upon  it 


570 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT  IN 


Serm.  111. 


1.  The  exception  would  lie  as  much  against  the  putting 
of  any  of  these  things  into  the  Bible,  till  at  least  inimedi- 
ately  before  the  time-when  they  should  be  accomplished 
and  fulfilled.  And  so  it  is  an  insufferable  reflection  upon 
the  Divine  wisdom,  that  hath  thought  fit  that  such  an  ac- 
count of  things  should  be  given  for  so  long  time  previous 
unto  their  accomplishment  or  actual  taking  place.   And, 

2.  It  is  no  prejudice  at  all,  against  our  receiving  encou- 
ragement and  having  our  spirits  fortified  against  the  athe- 
ism of  a  wicked  world  by  this  prospect,  that  we  may  re- 
ceive such  encouragement  also  by  the  consideration  of  a 
judgment,  to  come  and  an  eternal  state.  For  do  not  we 
know,  that  sundry  uses  may  be  made  of  many  doctrines, 
as  one  and  the  same  truth  may  be  proved  by  sundry  me- 
diums 1  What  prejudice  doth  it  do  an  honest  cause,  if  one 
can  produce  twenty  arguments  to  prove  the  same  truth, 
and  so  all  result  into  one  conclusion  1  We  reckon  the  truth 
r:  fortified  and  confirmed  by  it  so  much  the  more.  And  if 
there  are  sundry  truths,  if  never  so  great  a  variety  of 
truths,  that  all  meet  as  it  were  in  one  point,  and  produce 
the  same  good  frame  and  temper  in  our  hearts,  is  that  a 
prejudice  to  us  1  I  hope  it  is  so  much  the  more  an  advan- 
tage.    But  that  which  I  shall  mostly  insist  upon  is,  that — 

3.  That  same  question  of  inquiry,  "  To  what  purpose  is 
it,  that  we  should  hear  of  such  things,  when  there  is  no 
hope  given  us  to  see  them,  or  that  they  should  be  brought 
about  in  our  time  V  This  question,  I  say,  there  is  no  seri- 
ous, considering,  well-tempered  Christian,  but  is  best  capa- 
ble of  answering  it  out  of  his  own  heart.  He  doth  but 
need  to  consult  with  his  own  heart,  when  he  is  himself 
and  in  his  right  mind,  and  he  will  see  enough  even  out  of 
his  own  spirit,  from  whence  to  answer  the  inquiry,  and  to 
say  all  that  needs  to  be  said  in  reference  to  it. 

To  make  that  out ;  it  is  obvious  to  our  notice,  that  there 
are  two  extremes,  (and  therefore  both  of  them  bad  enough, 
as  all  extremes  naturally  are,)  from  whence  any  such  in- 
quiry can  be  supposed  to  proceed.  A  man  may  say,  "  To 
what  purpose  is  it  V  either  from  stupidity  and  unconcern- 
edness,  as  thinking  they  need  not  concern  themselves  about 
any  thing  that  is  not  likely  to  fall  within  the  compass  of 
their  own  time  ;  or  from  fretfulness,  a  vexatious,  discon- 
tentful  temper  of  spirit,  upon  having  a  prospect  of  such 
things  set  before  them,  as  they  have  no  encouragement  it 
may  be  to  think  they  shall  see.  Now  a  sound  and  good 
temper  and  complexion  of  soul  hath  that  in  itself,  which 
would  obviate  and  avoid  both  these  extreme'^,  and  let  us 
see  sufficient  reason  for  these  two  things  in  opposition  to 
them:  to  wit,  1.  The  entertainment  of  such  a  truth  with 
due  complacency,  notwithstanding  we  have  no  expectation 
to  see  the  accomplishment  of  it  in  our  time  ,  3upposing  we 
have  no  such  expectation.  And,  2.  To  admit  the  delay  of 
that  accomplishment  with  composedness  and  quietude  of 
mind,  so  as  not  to  be  disturbed  in  our  own  spirits  with 
that  delay,  though  such  things  may  not  receive  a  speedy 
and  sudden  accomplishment  according  to  our  desire.  The 
former  of  these  would  enable  us  to  make  a  due  use  of  such 
a  truth  as  this  ;  and  the  latter  would  keep  us  from  abusing 
it.  By  the  former,  we  should  be  enabled  to  savour  and 
relish  it  with  complacency,  and  so  as  to  get  good  out  of  it ; 
and  by  the  latter,  to  avoid  the  getting  of  hurt,  have  our 
hearts  fenced  and  fortified  against  any  prejudicial  impres- 
sions thereby.  Wherefore  these  two  "things  I  shall  labour 
to  make  out  to  you,  that  there  are  certain  principles  in 
ev^ery  gracious  and  well-complexioned  soul,  that  vfi[\,Jlrst, 
enable  it  to  take  complacency  in  such  a  truth  as  this,  for 
the  substance  of  it ;  and  that  will,  secondly,  compose,  so  as 
not  to  admit  of  disturbance  by  the  delay  of  its  accomplish- 
ment ;  even  notwithstanding  it  to  be  supposed  that  we  are 
never  to  see  it  in  this  world  ourselves  and  with  our  own  eyes. 

First,  There  are  such  principles  as  these,  that  have  a 
tendency  to  make  such  a  truth  savoury  to  us ;  notwithstand- 
ing it  be  supposed,  that  we  shall  not  see  it  fulfilled  in  this 
world  ourselves. 

1.  A  principle  of  self-denial.  That  will  signify  a  great 
deal  to  this  purpose.  And  you  will  know,  there  is  nothing 
more  deeply  radical  in  the  whole  frame  of  practical  reli- 
gion and  godliness,  than  that  is.  But  certainly,  if  a  man 
be  af  a  self-denying  spirit,  he  will  be  able  to  take  com- 
placency in  somewhat  else,  than  what  doth  respect  his  own 
personal  concernments.  And  is  it  not  a  most  unsufferable 


thing,  if  a  man  should  not  1  What !  would  I  fancy  this 
great  world  made  lor  me  ;  and  that  all  the  mighty  wheels 
of  providence,  that  roll  and  are  kept  in  motion  from  time 
to  time,  are  all  moved  with  reference  to  me;  to  give  me  a 
gratification  and  content  according  to  the  wish  of  my  heart  1 
What  an  insolent  thing  is  so  private  and  selfish  a  spirit  as 
that ! 

2.  A  just  concern  for  posterity  would  make  such  a  truth 
savoury.  And  certainly  there  is  no  well-tempered  soul  des- 
titute of  that  principle.  Grace  doth  in  this,  as  well  as  it 
doth  in  many  other  things,  graft  upon  the  stock  of  nature. 
You  know  it  is  natural  with  men,  upon  a  consciousness  of 
mortality  and  a  desire  of  immortality,  when  they  find  they 
can  live  no  longer  in  their  persons,  to  desire  to  live  in 
their  posterity,  tho.se  that  shall  come  after  them :  and  it  is 
a  great  solace  that  they  naturally  lake  in  the  hope  of  doing 
so.  Now  when  grace  comes  to  graft  upon  this  natural 
stock,  would  not  the  spirit  of  a  man  be  disposed  to  take  a 
great  solace  in  the  hope  and  expectation,  that  those  that 
shall  come  after  him  shall  live  in  a  better  state  upon  reli- 
gious accounts,  than  we  have  done  in  our  days,  or  may  be 
likely  to  do  1  If  such  a  principle  as  this  be  not  to  obtain 
and  take  place  and  have  an  influence,  what  would  you 
make  of  all  the  promises  that  were  given  to  Abraham  and 
Isaac  and  Jacob  concerning  their  seed,  so  long  before  the 
accomplishment  of  many  of  them  1  What  can  all  these  pro- 
mises signify,  but  upon  the  supposition  of,  and  in  a  way 
of  accommodation  to,  such  a  principle  1  You  see  how  sa- 
voury and  tasteful  what  God  had  told  David  concerning 
his  house  and  posterity  in  aftertimes  was  to  him  :  he  was 
not  so  stupid,  as  not  to  be  moved  with  any  thing  of  that 
kind  ;  but  he  is  as  a  person  in  an  ecstasy,  a  rapture,  upon 
it,  2  Sam.  vii.  19,  20.  "  Thou  hast  spoken  concerning  ihy 
servant's  house  for  a  great  while  to  come  ;  and  is  this  the 
manner  of  man,  O  Lord  God  1  And  what  can  David  say 
more  unto  thee  V  It  was  a  great  solace  to  good  Jacob,  old 
Israel,  when  he  was  now  even  next  to  death,  to  think  of 
what  should  ensue  in  reference  to  his  posterity  and  seed, 
when  he  was  gone.  "  I  die,  (saith  he,)  but  God  shall  be 
with  you,"  Gen.  xlviii.  21.  And  do  not  we  think  it  were  a 
good  spirit  in  ourselves,  if  we  could  be  of  the  same  mind  1 
Why,  though  we  all  die,  God  shall  be  with  them  thai  suc- 
ceed !  If  they  shall  come  into  that  land,  which  our  eyes 
shall  not  behold,  what !  can  we  so  put  off  man  and  Christ- 
ian both  together,  as  to  lake  no  complacency  in  the  fore- 
thoughts of  what  good  those  that  may  come  after  may  be- 
hold and  enjoy,  though  we  enjoy  it  not.  It  was  a  high 
pleasure,  that  seems  to  be  expressed  in  the  contemplation 
of  the  future  good  of  following  generations,  by  the  Psalm- 
ist, in  Ps.  cii.  18.  A  people,  which  shall  be  created,  shall 
praise  the  Lord.  He  was  very  well  pleased  to  think  of 
that,  though  it  were  then  a  time  of  very  great  affliction  ;  as 
you  see  the  title  of  that  psalm  doth  import ;  whether  the 
time  present,  or  the  time  prophesied  and  foretold  of:  for 
the  psalm  is  a  prayer  of  the  afflicted,  when  he  pours  out  his 
soul  to  God,  as  there  you  have  it.  While  they  are  languish- 
ing in  all  that  affliction  and  trouble,  which  they  are  sup- 
posed then  to  be  under  ;  yet  they  are  pleased  to  think  of  a 
generation  to  come,  a  people  yet  to  be  born,  yet  to  be  created, 
that  shall  praise  God  and  rejoice  in  his  great  goodness. 

3.  A  loyal  and  dutiful  love  unto  the  blessed  God  himself, 
and  concern  for  Ivs  interest,  tends  to  make  such  a  truth  sa- 
voury, though  the  accomplishment  of  it  we  may  perhaps 
never  .see  inthis  world.  Was  that  heart  ever  touched  with 
a  dutiful  sense  of  his  interest,  that  would  not  be  pleased 
to  think  of  his  being  giorified  highly,  upon  the  same  stage 
where  he  has  been  so  insolently  afli'ronted  and  provoked  for 
so  long  a  time  1  It  was  an  inexpressible  pleasure,  that 
seems  to  have  gone  with  such  expressions,  as  these  that 
we  sometimes  meet  with  ;  "  Be  thou  exalted,  O  God,  above 
the  heavens,  and  thy  glory  above  all  the  earth  ;"  as  we  find 
in  Psal.  cviii.  5.  and  in  many  expressions  scattered  up  and 
down  the  Scripture  of  like  import.  A  truly  pious  soul 
would  be  mightily  concerned,  that  God  should  at  one  time 
or  other  have  the  just  attribution  and  revenue  of  glory  paid 
him,  which  is  to  arise  out  of  this  part  of  his  creation,  this 
lower,  lapsed  part.  Considering  now,  how  mean  and  low 
and  wretched  a  place  soever  this  world  is,  yet  it  is  a  part 
of  the  creation  of  God,  and  there  is  a  revenue  of  glory  due 
to  him  out  of  it ;  who  would  not  take  complacency  in  the 


Seum.  III. 


REFERENCE  TO  THE  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH. 


571 


thoughts  of  a  time,  when  it  shall  be  ^fathered  up  and 
brought  in,  when  the  name  of  God  shall  be  glorious  on 
the  earth,  every  knee  bowing  to  him,  and  every  tongue 
conx''essing  to  him ;  that  at  least  it  should  more  generally 
be  so,  than  it  hath  hitherto  been  ■? 

4.  A  compassionate  regard  to  the  souls  of  men  hath 
still  the  same  tendency  to  make  us  relish,  with  a  great 
deal  of  pleasure,  the  forethoughts  of  such  a  state;  where- 
in religion,  that  hath  been  so  much  under  reproach  for  so 
long  a  tract  of  time,  shall  be  a  creditable  thing,  lift  up  the 
head  with  honour,  and  outface  insolent  atheism  and  wick- 
edness. If  we  consider  this,  as  that  wherein  the  souls  of 
men  are  concerned;  it  cannot  but  be  highly  grateful  to  us 
to  contemplate  such  better  days  to  come.  For  by  how  ma- 
nifest experience  doth  it  appear,  that  such  a  state  of  things, 
wherein  religion  is  a  repro?,ch,  endangers  and  ruins  mul- 
titudes of  souls  every  where  1  How  many  are  jeered  and 
flouted  out  of  their  religion,  where  there  have  been  only 
some  lighter  tinctures  of  it  upon  their  spirits,  or  only  some 
half  inclinations  towards  it;  while  it  is  reckoned  matter 
of  reproach  to  be  a  fearer  of  the  great  God  ;  when  to  be  a 
professed  devotee  unto  the  Sovereign  Majesty  of  heaven 
and  earth,  to  avow  an  awe  and  dread  of  invisible  powers, 
is  looked  upon  as  an  argument  of  a  weak  and  etfeminate 
mind;  and  when  it  goes  for  pure  fanaticism  for  any  to 
pretend  to  stand  in  awe  of  an  invisible  Ruler  1  It  is  ma- 
nifest, what  multitudes  of  souls  are  insnared  unto  perdi- 
tion, even  by  the  shame  and  reproach  and  fear  of  men, 
that  religion  hath  been  assaulted  with  in  many  ages,  but 
never  more  than  in  our  own.  And  is  it  not  grateful  and 
pleasant,  to  forefhink  of  such  a  time  and  state  of  things, 
after  that  the  prince  of  the  darkness  of  this  world  hath 
been  by  such  variety  of  arts  and  methods  imposing  upon 
souls  to  their  ruin ;  to  think,  I  say,  of  any  time,  wherein 
he  shall  be  bound,  and  the  word  of  God  at  liberty,  and  run 
and  be  glorified,  without  any  kind  of  let  or  restraint ; 
wherein  effectual  endeavours  shall  every  where  be  set 
afoot  for  the  rescuing  of  souls  from  the  common  ruin  1 
Surely  a  just  and  generous  love  of  mankind,  refined  and 
spiritualized  as  it  ought  to  be  in  all  our  hearts,  would,  even 
upon  that  account  and  by  its  own  natural  tendencj',  make 
the  fore-thoughts  of  such  a  state  of  things  very  grateful ; 
and  very  much  commend  such  a  truth  to  our  acceptance 
and  entertainment ;  notwithstanding  the  supposition,  that 
we  see  the  accomplishment  of  no  such  thing  in  our  time. 
But  we  are  to  show  further,  that — 

Secondly,  There  are  principles  also  in  every  gracious 
person,  that  tend  to  compose  his  spirit,  so  as  that  it  shall 
not  be  disquieted  by  the  delay  of  its  accomplishment ;  and 
so  will  by  this  means  prevent  such  a  truth  from  being 
abused;  or  procure,  that  there  shall  be  no  evil  and  hurt- 
ful impressions  made  upon  our  spirits  by.it.  For  of  that 
there  is  real  danger ;  that,  having  the  prospect  of  such  a 
state  of  things  before  our  eyes,  and  yet  no  hope  that  we 
shall  see  the  accomplishment  of  it  in  our  own  time,  vexa- 
tion and  discontent  and  secret  frettings  should  be  provoked 
thereby.  Therefore  we  will  show  also,  that  there  are 
principles  contained  in  a  right  temper  and  constitution  of 
soul,  that  will  avoid  that  great  extreme,  as  well  as  that  of 
a  stupid  unconcernedness;  and  compose  us  unto  a  due 
comporting  with  the  delay  of  the  accomplishment  of  such 
things  whereof  we  have  the  prospect  in  such  predictive 
scriptures.     As, 

1.  A  right  and  well-complexioned  faith  concerning  these 
things  hath  a  tendency  to  make  us  brook  the  delay  of  the 
accomplishment,  without  any  hurtful  resentments  of  it,, so 
as  to  be  discomposed  in  our  spirits  thereby.  For  it  is  th« 
nature  of  such  a  faith  to  feed  upon  the  substance  of  things, 
and  not  to  exercise  itself  so  much  about  the  minuter  mat- 
ters, and  those  that  are  of  mere  circumstance.  That  is  ra- 
ther belonging  to  the  mean  principle  of  sense  ;  which  can 
tell  how  to  converse  with  nothing  but  what  is  present,  and 
appears  clothed  with  all  the  circumstances  of  a  present 
event.  But  faith  is  not  so  narrow  or  confined  a  principle. 
It  can  tell  how  to  converse  with  objects  that  are  in  them- 
selves valuable,  so  as  to  unclothe  them  of  present  circum- 
stances, and  to  consider  them  more  abstractly  as  lying  in 
themselves,  and  to  enjoy  the  real  gain  that  is  in  them, 
without  limiting  or  determining  them  unto  this  or  that 
time,  or  such  or  such  other  circumstances  tliat  do  accom- 


pany them  in  their  existence.  Faith  can  tell  how,  while 
we  are  here  upon  earth,  to  fly  to  heaven  for  U',  f nd  to 
walk  to  and  fro  in  the  invisible  regions,  and  to  ictcii  '. -= 
down  comforts  and  consolations  from  thence.  And  if  it 
can  forage  into  all  eternity,  much  more  may  it  into  a  little 
future  time,  so  as  to  fetch  us  what  is  relieving  and  com- 
fortable from  thence,  according  to  what  such  futurity  doth 
contain  in  it  for  that  purpose.  Upon  this  account  we  have 
that  property  of  faith,  that  character  of  a  believer,  Isa. 
xxviii.  Ifi.  "  He  that  helieveth,  shall  not  make  haste."  He 
that  is  a  serious  believer  indeed,  of  the  right  stamp  and 
kind,  will  not  prematurely  catch  at  things.  That  faith  is 
not  apt  to  discompose  the  soul,  and  put  it  into  a  violent 
and  impetuous  hurry;  but  it  is  its  natural  effect  to  com- 
pose, to  quiet  and  calm  it,  to  keep  it  peaceable  and  sedate, 
till  tlie  events  shall  be  duly  .seasoned  and  timed  by  him 
who  hath  all  times  in  his  own  hand  and  power.  It  is  very 
observable,  if  you  consider  the  sub.stance  of  that  prophe- 
cy, which  these  words  of  the  prophet  have  a  relation  to, 
"I  lay  in  Zion  for  a  foundation  a  stone,  a  trie/1  stone,  a 
precious  corner-stone,  a  sure  foundation  ;  h*  that  heliev- 
eth, shall  not  make  haste."  One  would  think,  that,  upon 
its  being  understood  what  that  corner-stone  meant,  the 
very  hint  and  intimation  of  such  a  thing  should  put  all 
the  powers  of  a  soul,  that  hath  the  prospect  of  it,  into  a 
present  hasty  quick  working;  and  that  the  mailer  should 
not  admit  of  a  moment's  delay,  but  be  presently  done :  so 
great  a  thing  as  the  laying  of  that  corner-stone!  But  this 
is  said  several  hundred  years  beforehand;  and  yet  "he 
that  believeth  shall  not  make  haste."  He  shall  enjoy  it 
now  by  faith,  taste  the  consolation  of  it;  and  have  his 
spirit  compo.'^ed  unto  a  willing  and  peaceful  deference,  or 
referring  of  the  matter  how  this  business  should  be  timed, 
or  when  it  should  be  brought  about,  unto  him  who  is  the 
great  Lord  and  Author  and  Orderer  of  all  things.  As 
apt  a  thing  as  Christ's  coming  in  the  flesh  was  to  raise  de- 
sire, and  'heighten  and  stir  up  mighty  affection  among 
them  that  looked  for  the  consolation  of  Israel ;  yet  "  he 
that  believeth  shall  not  make  haste." 

2.  A  truly  Christian  patience.  It  is  the  proper  "business 
of  this  to  compose  a  man's  soul.  In  your  patience  pos- 
sess ye  your  own  souls,  Luke  xxi.  10.  The  work  of  pa- 
tience is  to  make  a  man  master  of  his  own  .soul ;  that  it 
shall  be  in  his  power,  and  he  shall  enjoy  himself:  for  an 
impatient  man  is  outed,  dispossessed  of  him.self :  he  hath 
no  command  of  himself  Now  patience  hath  its  exerci?-e 
for  keeping  us  in  the  possession  of  ourselves,  not  only  in 
bearing  the  afilictions  that  lie  upon  us,  but  in  expecting 
the  good  things  that  lie  before  us  and  which  we  have  in 
prospect  and  view.  Hope  that  is  seen,  is  not  hope  : — But 
if  we  hope  for  that  we  see  not,  then  do  we  with  patience 
wait  for  it,  Rom.  viii.  24,  2.5.  Ye  have  need  of  patience, 
that  after  v^' have 'done  the  will  of  God,  ye  might  receive 
the  promise.  For  yet  a  little  while,  and  he_  that  shall 
come,  will  come,  and  will  not  tarry,  Heb.  x.  36,  37.  You 
have  need  of  patience,  that  j'ou  may  brook  and  comport 
with  the  delay  of  his  coming,  and  not  count  it  long.  So 
the  apostle  James,  chap.  v.  7^  8.  is  pressing  to  patience  in 
reference  to  the  relief  that  was  to  he  expected  at  the 
coming  of  our  Lord;  and  he  tells  those  to  whom  he 
writes^  "  The  husbandman  hath  long  patience,  until  he 
receive  the  early  and  latter  rain.  Be  ye  also  natient, 
slablish  your  hearts  ;  for  the  ct>ming  of  Uie  Lord  draw- 
eth  nish."  It  is  still  drawin?  nearer  and  nearer.  What 
comin?  that  is,  we  shall  not  now  dispute;  or  how  near,  or 
how  far  off.  But  he  gives  them  to  understand,  that  while 
he  was  not  as  yet  come,  thev  had  need  of  patience,  to 
compose  their  hearts,  and  to  "keep  them  composed  and 
quiet  durina:  the  time  of  their  expectation. 

3.  Weariness  of  sin  will  do  much  to  this  purpose.  If 
once  the  body  of  death  be  really  burdensome  to  us,  and 
we  would  fain  bv  anv  means  in  the  world  have  the  power 
of  sin  abated ;  this  will  tend  to  compose  us  unto  a  will- 
ingness, thai  God  should  take  any  course  with  us.  that 
accordintr  to  his  estimate  and  account  may  most  aptly 
serve  that  end,  to  break  the  power  of  sin.  Well,  suppose 
he  thinks  this  a  fitter  course  for  us,  instead  of  letting  the 
sun  shine  upon  us.  to  make  the  fire  burn  round  about  us; 
suppose  he  judge  it  fitter  for  us  to  be  under  sinkings  and 
hammerings  in  order  to  the  working  oft  our  dross,  and 


573 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT  IN 


Serm.  Ill, 


beating  us  into  a  better  form  and  figure:  then  a  true  and 
real  weariness  and  impaliency  of  sin  would  make  us  con- 
tented to  be  brought  lo  this  temper  through  any  course,  so 
it  do  but  weaken  and  wear  sin,  and  break  the  power  of  it 
more  and  more.  It  would  make  us  contented  to  endure 
harsher  methods  for  our  time,  so  it  will  serve  that  happy 
end,  and  beget  in  us  better  frames  of  spirit.  For  he,  that 
is  a  far  more  competent  judge  than  we  are,  (we  have  rea- 
son to  conclude  by  the  event,)  doth  judge,  that  such  rough- 
er means  and  courses  are  more  suitable  to  our  state,  to 
help  us  to  that  better  pitch  and  temper  of  spirit,  than  a 
prosperous  state  of  things  externally  would  be  ;  such  as 
is  meant  here  by  God's  not  hiding  his  face.  It  may  be  he 
doth  foresee,  that  we  should  not  know  how  to  comport 
with  such  a  state  of  things,  that  we  should  grow  vain  and 
foolish,  earthly  and  forgetful  of  him,  and  never  mind  the 
great  concerns  of  religion,  when  once  trouble  and  calami- 
ty left  us.  If  once  we  be  brought  heartily  to  hate  sin,  and 
to  reckon  that  the  greatest  of  all  imaginable  evils ;  we 
should  be  very  well  contented,  that  God  should  use  us  with 
whatsoever  severity,  so  that  the  power  of  sin  may  be 
abated,  and  a  better  temper  of  spirit  promoted. 

4.  A  sense  of  the  demerit  of  sin,  would  certainly  per- 
suade to  much  composure  of  mind  in  such  an  expectation. 
He  that  considers  with  himself,  "  I  am  less  than  the  least 
of  all  mercies,  and  I  have  deserved  not  only  to  be  under 
the  continual  harassings  of  severe  providence  all  my  days 
in  this  world,  but  I  have  deserved  hell ;"  may  keep  his 
spirit  quiet  by  that  means,  though  he  doth  not  "see  a  pros- 
perous state  of  things  in  this  world  ;  especially  if  he  have 
the  apprehension  withal  of  pardoningmercy,  and  the  sweet 
savour  and  relish  of  that.  He  that  would  be  contented  to 
have  undergone  any,  the  greatest  agonies  and  distresses 
whatsoever,  so  he  might  but  have  had  the  light  of  God's 
countenance  shining  upon  him,  so  he  might  but  see  that 
those  agonies  and  distresses  of  spirit  did  open  a  way  unto 
a  more  halcyon  season  for  his  Spirit,  certainly  he  would 
well  be  conlent  to  undergo  any  severities  of  dispensations 
in  outward  respects,  and  think  all  well,  if  God  have  par- 
doned his  sin,  and  let  fall  all  controv^ersy  with  him.  And 
that  belongs  to  a'good  temper  of  spirit  too,  to  apprehend 
sin  either  actually  pardoned,  or  at  least  pardonable  ;  that 
God  is  reconcilable,  if  he  comply  with  his  terms.  And 
if  I  can  once  savour  and  relish  such  a  thing  as  that,  I  may 
very  well  forbear  indenting  and  capitulating  with  him  for 
such  a  state  of  things  in  this  world,  that  w-ould  be  pleas- 
ing and  grateful  to  me. 

5.  A  subject,  governable  spirit,  would  contribute  very 
much  to  keep  us  compo.sed  and  quiet  under  such  an  ex- 
pectation and  delay:  a  spirit  instructed  unto  obedience, 
and  that  knows  how  to  be  under  government,  and  to  yield 
a  consent  that  God  should  rule.  If  we  can  but  allow  him 
to  bear  rule  in  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  world,  and  do 
what  he  pleases  on  earth  in  his  own  way  and  time;  if  we 
have  our  hearts  formed  unto  this,  it  will  certainly  make 
us  composed  in  the  expectation  of  whatever  were  most 
grateful  to  us  in  this  world,  or  during  the  delay  of  bring- 
ing such  things  about  for  us.  We  find  our  Saviour  doth 
with  some  severity  reflect  upon  his  disciples,  immediately 
before  his  ascension,  when  they  put  that  curious  question 
to  him,  "  Lord,  wilt  thou  at  this  time  restore  the  kingdom 
to  Israeli"  It  was  an  odd  notion  too,  that  they  had  of  that 
kingdom;  as  appears  from  other  passages.  Why,  says  he, 
"  It  is  not  for  you  to  know  the  times  and  the  seasons, 
which  the  Father  hath  put  in  his  own  power,"  A  cts  i.  G,  7. 
What !  are  you  for  wresting  the  sceptre  out  of  his  hands, 
and  will  not  you  allow  him  the  government  of  the  world  1 
Are  you  not  contented  he  should  hear  rule  1  Certainly  it  is 
a  v^ery  ill-tempered  spirit,  that  will  quarrel  at  this,  that 
God  is  above  us,  that  he  hath  the  ordering  and  timing  of 
all  things  in  his  own  hand  and  power.  Therefore  a  sub- 
ject, governable  spirit  must  needs  be  in  this  case  a  calm, 
composed,  quiet  spirit,  unapt  to  storm  and  tumultuate,  and 
to  admit  of  any  vexatious  and  unquiet  thought,  because 
such  things  are  not  done  now,  or  possibly  may  not  be  done 
wiLhin  our  time,  that  we  could  wish  to  see  done.  You 
find,  that  it  was  indeed  a  very  fervent  desire,  that  Moses 
had  of  seemg  the  land  of  Canaan.  It  is  worth  while  to 
take  notice,  how  he  pleads  with  God  upon  that  account 
.as  he  recollects  the  story  himself,  Deut.  iii.  24,  &c.  He  is 


relating  to  the  people  how^  he  besought  the  Lord  at  tliat 
time,  when  the  controversy  was  about  that  business.  "  I 
besought  the  Lord,"  says  he,  "at  that  time,  saying,  O 
Lord  God,  thou  hast  begun  to  show  thy  servant  thy  great- 
ness, and  thy  mighty  hand;  for  what  God  is  there  in  hea- 
ven or  in  earth,  that  can  do  according  to  thy  works,  and 
according  to  thy  might  1  I  pray  th^e,  let  me  go  over,  and 
see  the  good  land  that  is  beyond  Jordan,  that  goodly  moun- 
tain, and  Lebanon."  But  how  is  he  answered  1  "  But 
the  Lord  was  wrath  with  me  for  your  sakes,  and  would 
not  hear  me  ;  and  the  Lord  said  unto  me.  Let  it  suffice 
thee,  speak  no  more  to  me  of  this  matter,"  I  won't  be 
spoken  to  any  more  about  the  matter.  And  you  see 
afterwards,  how  contentedly  he  goes  up  and  dies  on  this 
side  Jordan.  "Go  up  and  die  ;"  and  he  goes  up  and  dies; 
there  was  no  more  disputing  about  the  business ;  he  was 
contented  to  die,  and  not  see  that  goodly  mountain,  and 
Lebanon.  Certainly  that  is  a  very  good  contentment  in 
.such  cases,  for  the  Lord  lo  order  what  he  sees  meet  unto 
our  lot  and  portion. 

6.  A  serious  diligence  in  present  duty.  Whoever  have 
not  a  disposition  of  heart  to  mind  the  duty  of  their  own 
time,  the  business  that  lies  in  their  hand  to  do  ;  certainly 
their  temper  is  not  good.  But  every  serious  Christian 
can  find  himself  so  much  to  do,  as  to  have  little  leisure 
to  entertain  himself  unto  his  prejudice  with  disquieting 
thoughts  concerning  what  is  yet  future,  whether  of  good 
or  evil,  within  the  compass  of  time  and  of  this  present 
lower  world.  And  if  it  be  observed,  I  doubt  not  but  com- 
mon experience  will  give  suffrage  to  it,  that  the)'  are  most 
apt  to  let  out  their  spirits  extravagantly  to  mind  the  con- 
cernments of  future  time  unto  anxiety,  and  so  as  to  busy 
themselves  most  about  them,  who  have  the  least  mind  to 
be  busy  about  present  duties.  You  know  the  looser  and 
more  careless  and  licentious  Christians,  that  cannot  en- 
dure to  have  their  spirits  bound  and  tied  dowm  to  their 
work,  the  work  of  their  present  stations,  are  they  that  love 
to  be  making  complaints;  Oh  !  how  could  I  serve  God,  if 
I  were  but  in  such  a  lime !  So  liberal  are  they  to  him  of 
that  which  is  not  in  their  own  power,  which  is  not  theirs. 
It  is  only  the  present  tiine  is  theirs:  but  they  will  not  serve 
him  with  that  which  they  have,  the  present  day.  He  that 
understands  his  work  and  business  as  a  Christian,  that 
is,  to  give  up  himself  to  prayer,  and  to  a  serious  watch- 
ing over  his  owm  heart,  to  the  endeavour  of  preserving  a 
good  temper  of  spirit,  or  preventing  a  bad  ;  he  that  knows 
what  it  is  to  be  intent  upon  the  mortifying  of  corruption, 
and  the  quickening  and  exercising  of  one  and  another 
grace  seasonably,  and  as  occasions  do  invite  and  call  it 
forth  into  exercise ;  such  a  one  we  may  truly  reckon  to 
be  very  well  composed  in  his  own  spirit,  in  reference  to 
what  God  does  or  is  doing  in  his  time. 

7.  Familiarity  with  death  is  another  thing  in  the  temper 
of  a  good  soul,  that  will  very  much  compose  to  a  quiet 
peaceful  frame,  during  the  delay  of  such  things  as  we  wish 
to  see  in  this  world,  in  reference  to  the  prosperous  state  of 
the  church  of  God  and  the  interest  of  religion.  Certain- 
ly a  man  is  to  be  reckoned  so  much  the  better  Christian, 
by  how  much  the  more  he  is  acquainted  with  the  thoughts 
of  dying,  and  hath  made  death  familiar  to  himself  Now 
he  that  lives  conversant  about  the  very  brink  of  the  grave, 
that  reckons  upon  living  but  a  little  while  here,  but  is 
continually  expecting  his  dismission  and  call  into  eternity, 
cannot  surely  be  concerned  to  any  great  anxiety  of  mind, 
about  what  shall  or  shall  not  come  in  this  world  within 
his  time.  For  such  a  one  Avould  reckon  with  himself; 
"  Suppose  I  had  never  so  great  assurance,  that  such  and 
such  desirable  things  shall  fall  out  next  year,  yet  I  may 
die  this."  No  serious  person  will  put  death  far  from  him, 
look  upon  it  as  a  very  distant  thing;  and  therefore  such 
will  not  be  very  apt  to  disquiet  themselves  with  the  soli- 
citous expectation  of  good  things  on  this  side,  because 
they  will  still  reckon,  death  may  come  between  me  and 
that  expectation,  if  it  were  ever  so  near. 

8.  A  heavenly  frame  of  spirit  will  do  more  than  all  in 
this  matter.  To  have  the  heart  much  taken  up  with  the 
thoughts  of  heaven,  and  the  rest  which  remains  for  the 
people  of  God,  will  deliver  one  from  the  danger  of  hurtful 
impressions  by  having  the  prospect  of  such  good  things 
before  us  in  this  world,  which  it  may  be  we  shall  not  live 


Serm.  IV. 


REFERENCE  TO  THE  CHRISTIAN  CIIUROII. 


573 


to  see.  You  read  of  those  worthies  in  Hob.  xi.  several  of 
whom  had  been  named  in  the  verses  before  this  which  I 
am  about  to  mention,  ver.  13.  It  is  said  of  them,  they  all 
died  in  faith,  not  having  received  the  promises  ;  but  they 
saw  them  afai'  off,  and  were  persuadetl  of  them,  and  em- 
braced them,  and  confesseil  that  they  were  strangers  and 
pilgrims  on  the  earth.  And  doing  so,  they  that  say  such 
things,  ver.  14.  declare  plainly  that  they  seek  a  country; 
that  it  is  the  affairs  of  some  other  country  that  their  hearts 
and  minds  are  more  upon,  and  therefore  that  they  are  not 
so  greatly  concerned  about  the  good  and  evil  that  they 
may  enjoy  or  suffer  in  this  country :  no,  they  are  seeking 
a  country,  knowing  that  their  great  concerns  did  not  lie 
much  here.  And  therefore  they  confidently  died  in  faith, 
not  having  received  the  promise  of  such  and  such  things 
that  they  had  the  prospect  of;  merely  through  the  impres- 
sion and  power  that  a  heavenly  spirit  had  with  them,  to 
carry  them  to  follow  and  mind  heaven  and  the  great  con- 
cernments of  the  eternal  world,  that  everlasting  state  of 
things.  And  (as  was  hinted  before)  it  is  certainly  a  mo.st 
intolerable  distemper  of  spirit,  and  wherein  we  are  by  no 
means  to  suffer  or  indulge  ourselves,  that  there  should  be 
a  disposition  in  us  to  be  more  pleased  and  take  more  com- 
placency in  the  forethoughts  of  the  best  state  of  things 
imaginable  in  this  world,  than  in  the  forethoughts  of  hea- 
ven, that  every  way  perfect  state,  unexceptionably  perfect. 
He  that  can  be  contented  to  sin  on  still,  that  he  may  have 
his  imagination  gratified  here  in  this  world,  is  certainly 
under  a  great  distemper,  to  speak  the  most  gently  of  it. 
And  how  unreasonably  preposterous  is  it,  that  any  should 
prefer  that  which  is  but  intermediate,  before  that  which  is 
most  ultimately  final !  Still  always  that  which  is  best  is 
at  last ;  that  state  of  things  is  the  only  unexceptionable 
state,  which  is  unalterable ;  that  .state,  which  is  never  to 
give  place  to  another,  is  the  only  state  that  is  entirely  and 
completely  good;  it  is  fit,  that  that  only  should  be  so. 
There  is  no  pretence  for  a  desire  of  change,  in  reference 
to  a  state  perfectly  good ;  and  whatsoever  state  is  not  per- 
fectly good,  it  is  still  always  reasonable  to  expect  and  de- 
sire abetter. 

Now  all  these  things,  I  doubt  not,  you  must  confess  at 
the  very  first  view  do  belong  to  a  well-tempered  spirit. 
And  if  so,  it  must  argue  a  very  ill  frame,  if  there  should 
be  any  such  sickly  hankerings  after  the  be.st  things  that 
we  can  imagine  in  this  world,  as  that  we  cannot  satisfj'' 
ourselves,  while  we  have  no  hope,  or  no  great  reason  to 
hope,  that  we  shall  see  them  to  fall  out  within  the  compass 
of  our  time. 


SERMON  IV.* 

I  SHALL  add  one  or  two  more  principles  of  a  Christian 
spirit  to  tho.se  already  mentioned,  which  cannot  but  keep 
our  spirits  composed  in  the  prospect  of  a  better  state  of 
things  on  earth,  though  we  have  little  prospect  that  we 
shall  live  to  see  it. 

9.  A  sincere  devotedness  to  God  and  to  his  interest. 
This  will  compose,  and  upon  the  matter  make  us  indiffer- 
ent in  what  time  or  state  of  things  we  live,  so  it  may  serve 
his  interest.  We  have  that  notion  most  clear  in  our  minds, 
that  we  were  not  made  for  ourselves,  nor  sent  into  this 
world  upon  our  own  errand;  and  it  can  never  be  well  with 
us,  till  the  temper  of  our  spirits  doth  correspond  and  an- 
swer to  the  true  light  that  shines  in  us,  to  our  light  in  this 
particular  thing;  so  as  that  we  hereupon  become  sincerely 
devoted  and  given  up  to  God,  as  knowing,  that  this  is  our 
errand  in  this  world,  to  be  to  liim,  and  to  be  used  by  him, 
for  his  own  purposes  and  services  as  he  pleases.  We  well 
know,  it  is  very  reasonable  and  fit  he  should  have  some 
or  other  that  should  own  him  even  in  the  worst  of  times ; 
and  why  not  we  1  What  reason  can  we  assign,  why  we 
should  be  the  exempted  persons  1  Why  we,  rather  than 
others,  should  not  serve  him  in  difficulties  and  exercises, 
and  endure  hard  things  for  him,  if  he  will  have  it  so  ?  Unto 
.1  frame  and  state  of  sincere  devotedness  to  God  such  a 
•  Preached  May  29tli,  1678. 


thorjght  will  be  veiy  familiar,  "  I  am  notray  own;"  and 
how  strange  a  power  would  such  a  thought,  seasonably 
admitted  and  well  placed,  have  upon  our  souls,  to  have 
them  coniempered  to  this  apprehension,  "  I  am  none  of 
my  own?"  Sincere  devotedness  to  God  is,  1.  Absolute 
and  entire,  so  as  to  leave  us  no  right  in  ourselves  ajjart 
from  him;  2.  Upon  conviction,  that  it  is  the  highest  ex- 
cellency created  nature  is  capable  of,  to  be  in  pure  subser- 
viency to  him ;  3.  Upon  a  thorough  apprehension,  that  he 
IS  the  most  competent  judge,  how  every  one  of  us  may 
serve  him  to  the  best  purpose,  and  to  the  most  advantage 
to  his  interest ;  and  thereupon,  4.  It  cannot  but  be  accom- 
panied with  the  highest  complacency  and  pleasure  that 
we  are  .serving  him,  though  we  are  wasting  ourselves  in 
serving  him.  It  cannot  but  be  a  matter  of  high  compla- 
cency, to  be  sacrifices  consuming  in  the  very  flames,  on 
purpose  for  his  glory  and  pleasure.  While  we  apprehend 
he  is  pleased,  it  is  most  agreeable  to  such  a  temper  of  spi- 
rit to  be  highly  ourselves  pleased  too.  For  what,  should 
his  pleasure  and  ours  be  diverse  1  And  must  there  be  two 
wills  and  interests  between  him  and  us  1 

10.  A  religious  prudent  fear  of  misapplying  prophecies, 
or  astricting  and  determining  them  to  this  or  that  point  of 
time,  which  may  not  be  intended  by  the  Spirit  of  God.  It 
is  certain,  there  ought  to  be  a  religious  fear  of  this,  be- 
cause they  are  sacred  things,  and  therefore  not  to  be  trifled 
with,  or  made  use  of  to  other  purposes  than  they  were 
meant  for  ;  much  less  to  serve  mean  purposes,  to  graiily 
our  own  curiosity,  to  please  our  fancy  and  imaginaiifn. 
And  there  ought  "to  be  a  prudent  fear  "of  this,  and  will  he 
in  a  well-tempered  .soul,  because  of  the  great  hurt  and 
danger  that  may  attend  such  misapplications. 

There  are  two  extremes,  that  persons  are  apt  to  run  into, 
in  this  matter  ;  either  to  .set  such  foretold  events  too  far  ol", 
or  to  make  them  too  near  ;  and  we  are  prone  to  run  in:o 
one  or  the  other  of  them,  according  as  the  cases  vary  and 
are  oppo.site.  For  suppo.se  it  to  be  either  a  bad  state  of 
things  that  is  foretold,  or  suppose  it  a  time  for  doing  some 
duty  unto  which  we  are  disinclined,  then  we  make  the 
time  very  remote;  put  far  off  the  evil  day,  think  the  time 
is  not  come  yet  of  building  the  house  of  God,  of  being  in- 
tent upon  the  duty  thai  is  incumbent  upon  us.  But  if 
they  be  halcyon  days,  and  it  be  a  grateful  prospect  of 
things  that  we  have  before  us  ;  then  we  are  a.s  apt  to  set  it 
too  near,  and  to  catch  at  these  good  things  prematurely, 
before  they  be  ripe  and  ready  for  us,  or  we  for  them.  Arid 
here  lies  our  danger. 

I  cannot  but  recommend  to  you  that  remarkable  piece  of 
Scripture,  in  2  Thess.  ii.  1,  2."  Now  we  beseech  j-ou,  bre- 
thren, by  the  coming  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Chri.^f,  and  by  our 
gathering  together  unto  him,  that  ye  be  not  soon  shaken  in 
mind,  or  be  troubled,  neither  by  spirit,  (or  by  pretended 
inspirations,)  nor  by  word,  nor  by  letter,  as  from  us,  as  that 
the  day  of  Christ  is  at  hand.  You  shall  hardly  meet  with 
a  more  solemn,  earnest  obtestation  in  all  the  Bible,  than 
this  is :  that  is  the  thing  I  reckon  it  so  very  remarkable  for. 
"  I  beseech  you,  brethren,  by  the  coming  of  our  Lord  Je- 
sus Christ ;"  by  what  he  knew  was  most  dear  to  them,  and 
the  mention  whereof  would  be  most  taking  to  their  hearts; 
if  you  have  any  kindness  for  the  thoughts  of  that  day,  any 
love  for  the  appearance  and  coming  of  our  Lord:  if  ever 
any  such  thoughts  have  been  grateful  to  your  hearts:  we 
beseech  you  by  that  coming  of  his,  and  by  your  gathering 
together  unto  him,  that  you  be  not  soon  shaken  in  mind, 
that  you  do  not  suffer  yourselves  to  he  discomposed  bv  an 
apprehension,  as  if  the  day  of  Christ  were  at  hand.  It 
may  perhaps  be  thought  very  strange,  why  the  apostle 
should  lay  so  mighty  a  stress  upon  this  matter,  to  obiest  in 
it  .so  very  earnestly.  And  really  I  could  not  but  think  it 
exceeding  strange,  if  I  could  beofihemind,  that  the  coming 
of  Christ  here  spoken  of  were  only  the  time  of  the  destruc- 
tion of  Jerusalem,  and  that  the  man  of  sin  afterwards  spo- 
ken of  were  only  meant  of  Simon  Magus  and  his  impos- 
tures, the  feats  that  he  was  at  that  time  supposed  and  be- 
lieved to  do;  which  certainly  could  be  things  of  no  such 
extraordinary  concernment  unto  them,  that  lived  so  far  off 
as  Thessalonica  at  that  time,  and  much  1  .'^s  to  the  whole 
Christian  church.  But  if  we  con-ider  the  thin?  itself,  ac- 
cording to  the  ordinary  notion  that  is  wont  to  obtain  con- 


574 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT  IN 


Skrm.  IV. 


cerning  this  day  of  our  Lord,  and  the  gathering  together  of 
all  his  saints  unto  him ;  certainly  it  was  a  matter  of  most 
extraordinary  importance,  that  it  should  not  be  apprehend- 
ed as  at  hand.  For  do  but  think,  what  dismal  consequences 
would  have  ensued,  if  it  should  have  been  so  apprehend- 
ed, as  if  that  blessed  state  of  things  were  presently  to  take 
place,  were  even  at  the  door.  We  know  what  a  dreadful 
apostacy  hath  come  since,  hath  intervened,  and  of  how 
long  continuance.  If  this  had  obtained  as  a  part  of  the 
religion  of  Christians,  that  the  day  of  the  Lord  was  then 
at  hand  ;  why  then, — 

1st,  How  strangely  had  the  Christians  of  that  time  been 
diverted  from  the  proper  work  and  business  of  their  pre- 
sent day  1  all  held  at  a  gaze,  and  in  an  amused  expecta- 
tion of  the  present  coming  of  our  Lord  1 

2dly,  What  a  strange  surprise  had  the  afflictions  been  to 
them,  that  did  ensue!  When  they  were  in  a  present  expec- 
tation of  nothing  but  the  glorious  appearance  of  their 
Lord,  to  have  had  things  come  upon  them  that  were  of 
so  directly  contrary  a  nature  and  import !  Instead  of  that, 
to  be  presently  thrown  into  a  sea  of  trouble,  or  into  the 
flames  of  suffering,  how  strange  a  surprise  had  it  been  ! 

3dly,  What  a  despondency  of  spirit  had  followed  upon 
their  disappointment!  How  had  the  Christian  hopes  every 
where  languished,  and  their  hearts  even  failed  them  and 
died  within  them !  As  it  was  with  them  not  being  yet  in- 
structed in  the  constitution  and  design  of  Christ's  king- 
dom ;  whose  very  hopes  did  expire,  when  he  expired. 
"  We  trusted,  that  it  was  he  that  should  have  redeemed 
Israel." 

4thly,  How  had  it  caused  the  infidel  world  to  triumph 
over  Christianity !  How  had  it  opened  their  mouths  wide  ! 
"  This  was  a  part  of  the  religion  of  Christians,  that  their 
Christ  was  to  come  again  in  that  very  age;  and  now  even 
from  their  own  principles,  their  religion  is  proved  a  cheat, 
a  mere  imposture." 

There  is  certainly  very  great  danger,  and  there  ought 
therefore  to  be  a  religious  and  a  prudent  fear,  lest  we 
should  misapply  prophecies,  and  determine  them  unto  un- 
intended points  of  time.  It  is  very  agreeable  unto  a  good 
temper  of  spirit  so  to  do.  And  if  we  do  so,  that  very  awe 
will  keep  us  composed  and  within  the  bounds  of  modesty 
and  good  temper. 

I  therefore  shut  up  what  I  have  to  say  on  the  first  pro- 
position offered  from  the  text  with  this  caution  :  That  we 
take  heed,  lest  we  fail  of  giving  a  due  preference  unto  the 
Spirit  of  holiness,  or  the  Spirit  of  God  as  he  is  the  Spirit 
of  holiness,  above  what  we  give  to  the  spirit  of  prophecy, 
as  such.  In  so  plain  a  case  I  need  not  industriously  to  re- 
present to  you  the  inequality  of  the  comparison  ;  and  how 
much  the  Spirit  of  holiness,  as  such,  is  to  be  preferred  be- 
fore the  spirit  of  prophecy,  as  such.  That  is  peculiar 
unto  the  children  of  the  Most  High,  the  sons  of  God,  those 
that  are  designed  for  an  eternal  inheritance :  the  other, 
strangers,  even  a  paganish  Balaam,  may  share  and  par- 
take in,  as  well  as  others.  And  what  good  would  it  do  us, 
if  we  had  the  foreknowledge  of  all  events  through  all  suc- 
ceeding timel  Most  apparent  it  is,  that  infinite  know- 
ledge doth  only  agree  with  infinite  power;  and  therefore 
that  it  is  fit,  that  knowledge  should  be  proportionably  bound- 
ed as  power  is,  kept  within  as  narrow  limits.  It  would  not 
only  do  us  no  good,  but  it  would  be  a  most  unspeakable 
prejudice  to  us,  to  have  the  foreknowledge  of  all  events ; 
that  that  should  be  the  measure  and  compass  of  our  under^ 
standing  faculty,  to  have  the  knowledge  of  things  future 
as  well  as  of  those  that  are  present.  For  plain  it  is,  that 
the  good  things  that  we  should  foreknow,  if  we  see  them 
certain  not  to  fall  out  in  our  own  time,  and  especially  if 
we  did  foreknow  that  they  would  nearly  border  upon  our 
time  ;  how  .should  we  languish  in  the  very  sight  of  them, 
that  we  should  come  so  near,  and  not  reach !  And  for  all 
the  evils  that  we  should  foresee,  we  should  thereby  multi- 
ply them,  and  suffer  every  affliction  a  thousand  times 
over  ;  whereas  God  intends  we  should  suffer  it  but  once. 
We  should  bring  the  trouble  of  all  our  days  into  every  day. 
It  was  therefore  certainly  a  merciful  law,  if  we  would  un- 
derstand it;  "  Take  no  thought  for  to-morrow;  sufficient 
for  the  day  is  the  evil  of  it."  And  I  reckon  it  admirable 
wisdom,  which  we  are  all  concerned  to  adore,  that  when 
it  was  as  easy  to  God  to  have  given  us  a  catalogue  of  all 


considerable  events  unto  the  end  of  the  world,  determined 
unto  certain  times  when  they  should  fall  out,  as  to  give  us 
the  ten  commandments  ;  he  hath  done  this,  and  not  that. 
It  was  admirable  wisdom,  which  we  ought  highly  to  reve- 
rence him  for,  that  he  hath  stated  our  case  so,  and  doih 
keep  times  and  seasons  so  hid  in  his  own  hand  and  power, 
as  he  is  pleased  to  do.  And  for  whatsoever  satisfaction  we 
are  capable  of  taking,  in  apprehending  the  substantial 
truth  of  such  a  thing  without  bringing  it  to  circumstances, 
that  there  is  such  a  good  state  of  things  for  the  church  of 
God  in  this  world,  and  at  one  time  or  other  will  obtain  ; 
whatever  just  satisfaction  we  can  take  in  the  apprehension 
of  it,  I  reckon,  that  if  we  had  that  due  respect  that  we 
should  have  unto  a  right  temperature  of  our  own  minds  and 
hearts,  in  such  particulars  as  I  have  mentioned,  we  should 
thereby  highl}- enhance  that  pleasure  ;  as  much  as  the  plea- 
sure that  a  temperate  man  takes  in  eating  and  drinking  is 
greater,  than  that  which  a  furious  and  libidinous  appetite 
is  capable  of  taking,  in  a  person  to  whom  his  very  hunger 
is  a  disease.  And  therefore  now  I  shall  leave  this  propo- 
sition, and  go  on  to  that  other  truth  that  we  observed, 

That  such  a  good  state  of  things  can  never  be  brought 
about,  but  by  a  great  effusion  of  the  Spirit  of  God. 

In  .speaking  to  this,  I  shall, — 1.  Briefly  show  what  kind 
of  communication  of  the  Spirit  this  must  be;  and  then- 
2.  Show  the  apt  and  appropriate  usefulness  of  that  means 
unto  this  end,  the  bringing  about  of  a  good  state  of  things. 

I.  What  kind  of  communication  it  must  be. 

If  we  speak  of  it  objectively,  that  is,  in  respect  of  the 
thing  communicated;  .so  the  communication  of  the  Spirit 
must  intend  the  influences  and  operations  of  the  Spirit, 
and  the  consequent  effects  and  fruits  of  it ;  its  ynjaiV/inrd : 
those  principally  and  chiefly  that  do  accompany  salvation, 
which  proceed  from  it  as  the  Spirit  of  holiness.  Though 
yet  we  are  not  to  exclude  those  ordinary  gifts  of  the  Spirit, 
that  are  .statedly  in  the  church,  and  subservient  to  those 
other.  Whether  ever  any  extraordinary  gifts  shall  be  re- 
newed, that,  because  I  know  nothing  of  it,  I  shall  affirm 
nothing  in. 

If  you  speak  of  this  communication  formally,  as  to  the 
nature  or  kind  of  it  in  itself  considered;  so  we  may  un- 
derstand it  to  be  a  very  great  and  plentiful  communica- 
tion, that  is  here  meant.  So  the  very  expression  in  the  text 
of  pouring  forth  doth  import ;  the  same  word  being  used 
sometimes  to  signify  the  larger  and  more  remarkable  is- 
sues of  God's  wrath,  when,  as  a  deluge,  and  inundation,  it 
breaks  forth  upon  a  people  and  overflows.  It  signifies 
(as  some  critical  writers  do  observe)  both  celerity  and 
abundance  in  the  eflTusion.  And  the  expression  having 
that  use,  to  denote  the  breakings  forth  of  the  wrath  and 
fury  of  God,  and  being  now  applied  here  to  this  purpose, 
it  carries  such  an  import  with  it,  as  if  it  had  been  said, 
"  My  wrath  was  never  poured  forth  so  copiously,  so  abun- 
dantly, but  that  there  shall  be  as  large  and  copious  an  ef- 
fusion of  my  Spirit."  I  take  it,  that  these  two  properties 
must  be  understood  to  belong  unto  this  communication; 
the  fulness  of  it,  in  reference  to  each  particular  soul,  or 
intensiv^ely  considered;  and  the  universality  of  it,  so  as 
that  it  shall  extend  unto  vastly  many,  in  comparison  of 
what  it  hath  done  ;  but  neither  of  them  to  be  understood 
in  an  absolute  sense.  And  so  much  being  supposed,  (as 
there  will  be  occasion  in  future  inferences  from  Scripture 
to  let  you  see,)  that  the  communication  will  be  of  this 
kind,  and  qualified  by  such  properties  ;  we  have  a  suflS- 
cient  ground  upon  which  to  go  on  unto  the  next  head, 
that  is,  to  show, 

II.  The  apt  and  appropriate  usefulness  of  this  efliision 
of  the  Spirit  unto  this  purpose,  to  bring  about  a  good 
state  of  things  for  the  Christian  church.  And  in  doing 
that,  we  shall  have  two  things  to  evince  :  First,  the  effica- 
cy of  such  an  effusion  of  the  Spirit  unto  this  purpose; 
Secondly,  The  necessity  of  it.  That  this  means  will  cer- 
tainly do  the  business,  and  that  nothing  else  can ;  that 
there  is  no  other  way  to  bring  such  a  state  of  things  about. 
Which  things  needs  to  be  insisted  on  particularly  and  se- 
verally, to  obviate  two  great  evils,  into  which  we  are  very 
incident;  that  is, — I.  To  distrust  such  a  spiritual  means 
of  our  good,  and  of  the  common  good,  as  this  is; — 2.  To 
let  our  minds  and  hearts  hanker  after  some  other  means 
and  methods,  that  certainly  will  never  do  the  business. 


Serm.  IV. 


REFERENCE  TO  THE  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH. 


575 


1.  There  is  a  very  great  aptness  to  distrust  such  a  means 
as  tkis,  to  entertain  very  cold  thoughts  about  it.  The  Spirit ! 
How  should  the  Spirit  do  such  a  thing  as  this"?  bring 
about  a  universal  tranquillity  and  peace,  and  in  all  respects 
a  more  prosperous  and  flourishing  state  for  the  chuich  of 
God  in  the  world  1  That  same  expression  of  the  projihet, 
and  the  form  of  it  being  considered,  that  it  is  expostulatory, 
"  Is  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  straitened'!"  Mic.  ii.  7.  (so  the 
house  of  Jacob  is  expostulated  with  ;)  it  imports  a  very 
great  aptitude  even  in  a  professing  people,  to  have  a  great 
deal  of  distrust  about  the  Spirit,  and  the  effects  to  be  ac- 
complished and  brought  about  by  it.  It  is  a  keen  and 
pungent  way  of  speaking  to  speak  expostulatorily,  as  here, 
"  What !  have  you  learned  no  better,  you  house  of  Jacob, 
than  to  think,  that  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  can  be  straitened  1 
that  there  can  be  any  limits  and  bounds  set  unto  its  power 
and  influence  1" 

2.  There  is  as  great  an  aptness  to  trust  in  other  means, 
and  let  out  our  hearts  to  them.  An  arm  of  flesh  signifies 
a  great  deal,  when  the  power  of  an  almighty  Spirit  is 
reckoned  as  nothing.  And  persons  are  apt  to  be  very  con- 
triving, and  prone  to  forecast,  how  such  and  such  external 
forms  would  do  our  business,  and  make  the  church  and 
the  Christian  interest  hugely  prosperous.  As  great  an  ex- 
travagancy, as  if  we  would  suppose,  that  fine  sights  would 
fill  a  hungry  belly,  or  that  gay  clothes  would  cure  an  ul- 
cerous body ;  (as  I  remember  that  is  Plutarch's  simili- 
tude ;)  or  a  diadem  cure  an  aching  head,  or  a  fine  shoe  a 
gouty  foot.  It  is  a  very  vain  thing  to  think,  that  any  thing 
that  is  merely  external  can  reach  this  end  or  do  this  busi- 
ness. For  it  cannot  be  done  by  any  other  way,  by  any 
might  or  power,  but  by  the  Spirit  of  the  living  God.  And 
therefore  we  shall  speak  distinctly  to  these  two  things,  the 
efficacy,  and  necessity,  of  such  an  effusion  of  the  Spirit  unto 
this  purpose. 

First,  The  efficacy  of  it,  to  bring  about  a  very  happy 
state  of  things  to  the  Christian  church.  Do  but  a  little  re- 
collect yourselv&?,  what  hath  been  said  concerning  such  a 
state  of  things  as  we  might  call  happy  and  prosperous. 
All  is  capable  of  being  reduced  to  these  two  things,  1.  The 
more  vigorous  and  lively  verdure  of  religion,  that  that  it- 
self do  live  and  prosper  more ;  and  then,  2.  That  there  go 
therewith  external  tranquillity  and  peace.  Now  it  may 
easily  be  apprehended^how  an  effusion  of  the  Spirit  doth 
directly  do  the  former;  and  we  shall  afterwards  come  to 
show,  how  by  that  it  doth  the  latter  too. 

I.  There  is  nothing  that  is  so  genuine  and  natural  a  pro- 
duct of  the  effusion  of  the  Spirit,  as  the  life  of  religion  in 
the  world.  And  it  may  be  shown,  how  the  Spirit  may  have 
an  influence  to  this  purpose,  both  mediately  and  immediately. 

1.  Mediately  ;  it  may  have  an  influence  to  the  promoting 
of  the  life  and  vigour  and  power  of  religion,  by  the  inter- 
vention of  some  other  things  :  As, 

1st,  By  means  of  the  kings  and  potentates  of  the  earth. 
We  have  had  experience,  hov/  in  all  times  and  ages  our 
own  nation  hath  felt  the  different  influences  of  the  princes 
under  which  we  have  been.  But  we  are  not  now  to  be 
confined  within  so  narrow  bounds  ;  for  we  are  speaking  of 
the  state  of  the  church  of  God  in  the  general.  And  think 
how  it  will  be,  if  such  scriptures  ever  come  to  have  a  fuller 
accomplishment  than  they  have  yet  had  ;  when  in  all  the 
parts  of  the  Christian  world  kings  shall  be  nursing  fathers, 
queens,  nursing  mothers  ;  when  the  churcii  shall  suck  the 
breasts  of  kings,  when  the  glory  of  the  Gentiles  shall  by 
them  be  brought  into  it.  How  much  will  it  make  for  the 
prosperity  of  religion  every  where  in  the  world,  when 
these  shall  become  in  all  places  the  proper  characters  of 
princes,  (as  they  are  the  characters  of  what  should  be,)  that 
they  scatter  the  wicked  with  their  eyes,  that  they  are  just, 
ruling  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord,  and  are  upon  the  people,  as 
showers  upon  the  mown  grass,  and  as  clear  shinings  after 
rain,  are  men  of  courage,  men  fearing  God  antf  hating 
covetousness  !  Think  whether  this  will  not  do  much  to  the 
making  of  a  happy  state  as  to  the  interest  of  religion  in  the 
world,  when  they  shall  universally  concur  or  very  gene- 
rally in  the  practical  acknowledgment,  that  Christ  is  King 
of  kings,  and  Lord  of  lords,  willingly  resign  as  it  were 
their  sceptres,  or  hold  them  only  in  a  direct  and  designed 
subordination  and  subserviency  to  him  and  his  sceptre. 

2ndly,  By  and  through  them,  upon  whom  the  work  of 


the  Gospel  is  incumbent  in  the  church,  the  ministers  of  it. 
In  such  a  time,  when  the  Spirit  shall  be  poured  forth  plen- 
tifully, sure  they  shall  have  their  proportionable  share. 
And  when  such  a  time  a.s  that  shall  once  come,  1  believe 
j-ou  will  hear  much  other  kind  of  sermons,  or  they  will, 
who  shall  live  to  such  a  time,  than  you  are  wont  to  do 
now-a-da3's;  souls  will  surely  be  dealt  wiihal  at  another 
kind  of  rate.  It  is  plain,  too  sadly  plain,  there  is  a  great 
retraction  of  the  Spirit  of  God  e'ven  from  us ;  we  know 
not  how  to  speak  living  sense  unto  souls,  how  to  get  within 
you  ;  our  words  die  in  our  mouths,  or  drop  and  die  between 
you  and  us.  We  even  faint,  when  we  speak;  long  expe- 
rienced unsuccessfulness  makes  us  despond ;  we  speak  not 
as  persons  that  hope  to  prevail,  that  expect  to  make  you 
serious,  heavenly,  mindful  of  God,  and  to  walk  more  like 
Christians.  Themethodsof  alluringand  convincing. souls, 
even  that  some  of  us  have  known,  are  lost  from  amongst 
us  in  a  great  part.  There  have  been  other  ways  taken,  than 
we  can  tell  how  now  to  fall  upon,  for  the  mollifying  of  the 
obdurate,  and  the  awakening  of  the  secure,  and  the  con- 
vincing and  the  persuading  of  the  obstinate,  and  the  win- 
ning of  the  disaffected.  Sure  there  will  be  a  larger  share, 
that  will  come  even  to  the  part  of  ministers,  when  such  an 
effusion  of  the  Spirit  shall  be  as  is  here  signified ;  that 
they  shall  know  how  to  speak  to  better  purpose,  with  more 
compassion  and  sense,  with  more  seriousness,  with  more 
authority  and  allurement,  than  we  now  find  we  can. 

Other  ways  also  we  may  suppose  the  Spirit  to  have  me- 
diate influence  by  others  for  this  purpose.  I  shall  only 
close  this  discourse  with  saying  somewhat  to  an  objection 
that  some  may  be  apt  to  make. 

"  But  to  what  great  purpose  is  it,  may  some  say,  to  speak 
of  what  the  Spirit  will  do,  when  it  shall  be  so  largely  and 
plentifully  poured  forth  1  This  we  do  not  doubt,  but  whcQ 
the  Spirit  comes  it  will  do  very  great  matters ;  (as  the 
Jews'  expectation  was, '  When  El'ias  comcth  he  will  restore 
all  things;)  but  what  shall  we  do  in  the  mean  timel  and 
what  good  will  the  foreknowledge  of  this  do  us  nowl" 

Certainly  it  will  import  us  not  a  little  even  now,  to  know 
which  way  we  are  to  look,  what  it  is  that  will  do  our  busi- 
ness, and  must  do  it ;  to  be  at  least  delivered  from  that 
impertinent  trouble  of  making  vain  attempts,  and  of  ex- 
pecting that  to  be  done  any  other  way,  which  can  never  be. 
Our  experience  shows  us,  alas  !  it  is  not  this  nor  that  ex- 
ternal frame. of  things,  that  can  mend  our  case.  Should 
we  not  be  as  bad,  as  any  other  men  can  be  to  us,  if  there 
be  not  another  spirit  1  Hath  not  experience  shown  ill 
And  to  have  a  disposition  to  be  coiuinualU'  making 
attempts,  wherein  we  are  sure  to  be  disappointed,  and  can 
bring  about  nothing,  so  that  we  shall  but  traffic  for  the 
wind;  it  is  but  to  add  mockery  to  the  torment  of  our  dis- 
ease. It  is  indeed  a  part  of  the  disease  itself,  to  have  a 
kind  of  pruriency,  and  itch  to  trying  things,  that  would 
make  our  case  so  much  the  worse.  A  prosperous  state  of 
things  externally,  some  are  ready  to  imagine,  would  itself 
do  all.  Alas  !  what  an  imperiiuency  were  that,  and  how 
little  to  the  purpose !  In  all  likelihood  it  would  make  us 
ten  thousand  times  worse,  than  the  sharpest  sufferings 
could  ever  make  us,  or  let  us  be,  according  to  God's  ordi- 
nary methods.  And  to  know,  that  we  are  lo  look  one  way, 
is  certainly  a  great  advantage;  that  we  may  hence  at  least 
learn  not  to  look  a  contrary  way;  that  when  we  hear  it  is 
the  effusion  of  this  Spirit  must  do  our  business,  we  should 
not  let  our  spirits  run  into  union  with  another  kind  of 
spirit  :  a.s  it  is  with  all  such,  that,  when  a  slate  of  things 
displeases  them,  are  ready  to  cry  out,  '•  Let  fire  comedown 
from  heaven,  and  make  a  present  destruction  of  all." 
"  You  know  not  what  spirityou  are  of,"  saith  our  Lord  in 
this  case.  Is  this  like  the  gentle  workings  of  that  benign 
and  sweet  Spirit  that  we  are  told  must  do  our  business  7 
And  it  would  be  a  great  advaniacre  lo  us,  if  the  apprehen- 
sion of  this  did  so  constantly  and  habitually  possess  our 
souls,  and  sink  into  our  hearts,  as  to  frame  all  our  deport- 
ments accordingly;  and  that  this  might  be  underst(.x)d  to 
be  our  only  avowed  expectation  and  hope.  It  would  de- 
liver the  rest  of  men  from  fear  about  us  :  for  certainly  no 
man  hath  any  reason  to  be  afraid  of  the  Spirit  of  God  :  that 
never  did  any  one  any  hurt.  It  can  never  do  men  any 
hurt  surelv  to  be  made  better  by  iis  operations  in  so  easy 
a  way,  and  to  be  brought  into  so  ea.sy  a  state,  as  that  will 


57G 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT  IN 


Skrm.  V. 


be  sure  to  issue  in.  Hereupon  we  shall  deliver  ourselves 
and  the  world  about  us  from  a  great  deal  of  inconvenience, 
if  once  this  be  but  understood,  and  avowed  and  seconded 
by  all  suitable  deportments,  that  we  onl}'  expect  the  Spirit 
of  the  blessed  God  to  change  the  state  of  things  in  the 
world,  and  to  make  it  better  and  more  favourable  unto  the 
religion  of  serious  Christians. 


SERMON   v.* 

We  have  been  treating  of  the  mediate  influence  of  the 
Spirit  in  order  to  the  more  prosperous  and  flourishing  state 
of  religion  in  the  world  :  and  have  shown  what  influence 
it  may  have  unto  this  purpose,  by  the  magistracy,  and  by 
the  ministry,  being  exercised  immediately  upon  them ;  and 
so  working  mediately  by  them  for  the  promoting  of  reli- 
gion amongst  others,  by  those  that  stand  invested  with  the 
glory  of  these  great  ofiices.  We  shall  go  on  to  show  what 
influence  it  may  have, 

3dly,  By  means  of  family  order.  And  it  is  too  obvious 
unto  common  observation,  how  religion  hath  decayed,  and 
the  interest  of  it  declined  by  the  disuse  and  deficiency  of 
this  means  ;  since  families  have  become  so  much  the  nur- 
series of  vice  and  wickedness,  that  were  much  more  gene- 
rally the  seed-plots  of  religion. 

I  doubt  not  but  many  of  you  can  remember  the  time, 
when  in  this  city  family  discipline  was  much  another  thing 
than  now  it  is ;  and  the  sobriety  and  diligence  and  regu- 
larity of  youth  much  more  than  now  ;  and  fewer  known  to 
miscarry  than  at  this  time.  And  it  is  too  plain  a  case,  ihat 
the  miscarriage  of  so  many  doth  owe  itself  much  to  this, 
themeglect  and  letting  down  of  family  government,  and  the 
banishing  of  religion  out  of  families,  at  least  in  a  very  great 
degree :  that  there  is  so  little  calling  upon  the  name  of  God, 
so  little  of  family  worship,  family  instruction,  family  disci- 
pline ;  that  there  are  so  few  governors  of  families,  of  whom 
it  may  be  said,  as  concerning  Abraham,  "  I  know  Abra- 
ham:" What  will  he  do  1  He  will  command  his  household, 
Gen.  xviii.  19.  How  few  will  the  state  of  the  case  admit 
that  character  to  be  given  of  \n  our  days  !  How  little  care 
is  taken  to  ground  them  that  are  under  the  charge  and  in- 
spection of  masters  of  families,  in  the  principles  of  religion "? 
Do  we  observe  from  sabbath  to  sabbath,  that  they  profit  by 
ordinances'?  whether  they  are  going  forward  or  backward 
in  the  business  of  religion  1  And  where  the  fathers  of 
families  have  or  pretend  to  have  less  time,  how  much  might 
be  done  by  the  mothers  among  the  younger  children,  and 
the  servants  of  their  own  sex  1  And  whereas  by  the  supe- 
rior heads  of  families  want  of  time  is  very  much  pretended, 
pray,  whose  is  your  time,  do  you  reckon  1  and  whose 
business  is  it.  that  you  have  to  do  in  the  world,  God's  or 
your  own  1  And  if  you  will  say,  that  the  duties  of  your 
calling  are  part  of  the  business  that  God  will  have  you  do ; 
it  is  but  too  possible  to  do  God's  business  as  our  own ;  and 
therefore  it  is  to  be  considered,  whether  you  do  that  busi- 
ness as  God's  or  as  your  own  :  and  .suppose  it  never  so 
much  God's,  and  intended  for  him,  doth  the  doing  of  part 
excuse  the  neglect  of  the  rest  1  and  the  lesser  and  much 
inferior  part,  the  neglect  of  the  more  noble  and  principal 
parts  of  }'our  business]  Or  would  you  think,  that  that 
servant  did  discharge  himself  faithfully,  to  the  office  or 
obligations  under  which  he  is,  who,  when  you  commit  to 
him  in  a  stated  course  many  sorts  of  business  to  be  done, 
spends  all  his  time  about  one,  and  neglects  all  the  rest,  and 
the  main  and  most  important  parts  of  the  business  you 
have  put  into  his  hands  1  And  I  think  it  might  be  con- 
sidered too  to  good  purpose,  whether  (since  there  hath  been 
so  great  a  neglect  of  keeping  up  order  and  government  and 
worship  in  families,  and  the  thing  that  is  at  the  first  chal- 
lenge replied  by  every  one  is  lack  of  time)  the  city  is  grown 
much  richer  than  it  was  in  those  former  days,  when  men 
could  spare  more  time  for  such  purposes  than  they  do  now  ! 
Whatsoever  there  is  of  digression  in  this,  I  submit  it  to 
your  own  judgment,  how  needful  and  seasonable  it  is,  and 
whether  it  be  pertinent  and  proper.  But  I  make  no  doubt, 
*  Preached  June  51h.  1673. 


that,  whensoever  God  shall  restore  religion  in  the  world, 
and  make  it  again  to  prosper,  and  more  to  prosper,  as  we 
hope  he  will ;  it  will  be  by  this  means  in  very  great  part. 
Much  will  be  done  towards  it,  when  it  shall  please  God 
to  stir  up  the  hearts  of  those,  that  are  governors  of  families, 
parents  and  masters,  and  to  set  them  with  effect  on  their 
duty  in  these  things  ;  when  they  shall  be  brought  more  to 
tender  the  precious  immortal  souls  under  their  care,  and 
be  filled  with  a  more  just  zeal  against  the  licentiousness 
and  growing  debauchery  of  the  world.  I  make  no  doubt, 
but  when  it  shall  be  so.  this  will  be  found  to  do  a  great 
deal  towards  the  reviving  and  restoring  religion  amongst 
men.  There  will  be  a  time,  when  it  shall  be  said  severally 
and  singly  concerning  the  families  of  Israel,  that  God  is 
the  God  of  all  their  families,  (as  it  is  in  Jer.  xxxi.  1.)  and 
they  shall  he  his  people;  so  as  that  the  relation  shall  not 
be  only  with  the  bulk  and  body  of  the  people  in  gross,  but 
even  with  particular  families.  And  this,  it  is  said,  should 
be  in  the  latter  days,  if  you  look  back  to  the  close  of  the 
foregoing  chapter,  chap.  xxx.  24.  In  the  latter  days,  ye 
shall  consider  it.  And  at  the  same  time,  saith  the  Loid, 
will  I  be  the  God  of  all  the  families  of  Israel,  and  they 
shall  be  my  people.  And  it  is  said,  it  should  be  at  such  a 
lime,  as  wherein  there  should  be  planting  of  vines  upon 
the  mountains  of  Samaria,  (chap.  xxxi.  5.)  and  when  the 
watchmen  upon  the  mount  Ephraim  should  cry,  "  Arise 
ye,  and  let  us  go  up  to  Zion,  unto  the  Lord  our  God ;" 
(ver.  G.)  when  the  people  of  Ephraim,  that  is,  of  the  other 
ten  tribes  that  use  to  go  under  that  name,  and  those  that 
did  belong  to  Samaria,  should  go  to  Zion,  as  heretofore ; 
a  thing  which  certainly  hath  not  yet  been. 

4thly,  By  means  of  the  more  common  and  general  ex- 
ample of  serious  and  exemplary  religion  in  the  professors 
of  it.  That  is  one  great  means,  by  which  we  may  suppose 
the  Spirit  of  God  will  work  much,  when  it  hath  made  re- 
ligion to  revive  and  live  in  some,  to  make  their  exemplary 
walking  the  means  of  diffusing  religion  unto  others.  Re- 
ligion is  now,  as  it  is  exemplified  in  the  walking  and  prac- 
tice of  the  most,  a  very  little  alluiing  thing,  very  little 
amiable ;  it  carries  little  of  invitation  in  it,  little  by  which 
we  may  suppose  it  capable  of  proselyting  the  world,  and 
captivating  of  men  generally  to  the  love  of  it.  The  mean, 
low,  abject  spirit  that  is  discovered  by  some,  and  the  con- 
tentious, jangling,  and  quarrelsome  spirit  that  is  discovered 
by  others,  carry  little  of  allurement  in  them  to  strangers, 
and  signify  little  to  the  making  of  proselytes,  and  the  win- 
ning of  persons  to  the  love  of  religion.  We  have  reason 
to  expect  that  God  will  work  mightily  to  make  religion 
spread,  by  a  certain  aptitude  that  there  shall  be  in  it,  when 
grown  more  lively  and  more  vigorous,  and  a  brighter 
shining  and  more  glorious  thing  in  the  world,  to  attract 
hearts  into  the  good  liking  of  it. 

We  go  on  to  speak — 

2.  Of  its  more  immediate  and  direct  influence  upon  the 
souls  themselves  to  be  wrought  upon  ;  which  was  the 
second  head  propounded  to  be  spoken  to.  And  so  we  are 
to  reckon,  that  its  greater  influence,  (when  there  shall  be 
such  an  effusion  of  the  Spirit,  as  we  have  been  speaking 
of,)  will  show  itself  in  these  two  great  and  noble  eflfects: 
1.  In  numerous  conversions,  and, — 2.  In  the  high  im- 
provement and  growth  of  those  that  sincerely  embrace  re- 
ligion, their  eminent  holiness  :  which,  when  we  consider, 
wHl  make  the  matter  we  were  last  speaking  of  more  appre- 
hensible to  us,  what  example  may  do  to  the  spreading  of  it 
yet  further  and  further,  as  things  once  growing  grow 
apace  ;  especially  such  things  as  are  themselves  of  a  very 
growing  and  diflusive  nature.  The  Scripture  speaks  very 
much  in  many  places  to  both  these  purposes. 

1st,  There  are  many  scriptures,  that  respect  the  matter 
of  the  church's  increase  by  numerous  conv'ersions.  Which 
is  an  increase  as  to  its  extent,  as  the  other  will  be  as  to  its 
glory.  To  instance  in  some  few  of  the  scriptures,  that 
speak  of  the  enlargement  of  the  church  by  numerous  con- 
versions. We  are  told  in  Isaiah  ii.  2,  &c.  what  shall  come 
to  pass  in  the  last  days.  You  have  these  two  forms  of  ex- 
pression, the  latter  da3's,  and  the  last  days.  The  expres- 
sion of  the  latter  days  "doth  more  generally,  according  to 
the  language  of  the  Jews,  intend  the  times  of  the  Messiah. 
They  divided  time  into  these  three  great  v^*    'he  time  or 


i 


Serm.  V. 


REFERENCE  TO  THE  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH. 


577 


age  before  the  law,  the  age  under  the  law,  and  the  age  (as 
they  called  it)  of  the  Messiah.  The  expression  is  here  the 
last  da3's,  which  seems  rather  to  import  the  latter  part  of 
the  latter  time  ;  as  there  is  still  later  and  later,  till  it  come 
to  the  very  last.  Now  "in  the  last  days,  the  mountain  of 
the  Lord's  house"  (which  is  .spoken  by  Avay  of  allusion  to 
Zion,  and  the  temple  that  stood  upon  that  mountain) 
"shall  be  establi.shed  in  the  top  of  the  mountains,  and 
shall  be  exalted  above  the  hills,  and  all  nations  shall  flow 
unto  it.  And  many  people  shall  go  and  say,  Come  ye, 
and  let  us  go  up  to  the  mountain  of  the  Lord,  to  the  house 
of  the  Gcd  of  Jacob,  and  he  will  teach  us  of  his  ways,  and 
we  will  walk  in  his  paths;  for  out  of  Zion  .shall  go  forth 
the  law,  and  the  word  of  the  Lord  from  Jerusalem.  And 
he  shall  judge  among  the  nations,  and  shall  rebuke  many 
people,  and  they  shall  beat  their  swords  into  ploughshares, 
and  their  spears  into  pruning  hooks:  nation  shall  not  lift 
up  sword  against  nation,  neither  shall  they  learn  war  any 
more."  Such  a  time  as  that  the  world  hath  not  yet  known, 
so  as  that  it  should  be  said  generally  concerning  it,  that 
this  great  effusion  of  the  Spirit,  and  such  a  cessation  from 
hostilities  and  wars  in  the  world,  should  be  concomitant 
and  conjunct  with  one  another:  we  have  not  had  hitherto 
opportunity  to  observe  a  coincidency  of  these  two  things. 
To  the  same  purpose  is  that  in  the  prophecy  of  Micah, 
which  I  mention  as  being  of  so  near  affinity  with  the  very 
letter  of  this  text,  Mic.  iv.  1,  2.  "  In  the  last  days  it  shall 
come  to  pass,  that  the  mountain  of  the  house  of  the  Lord 
shall  be  establi.shed  in  the  top  of  the  mountains,  and  it 
shall  be  exalted  above  the  hills,  and  people  shall  flow  unto 
it.  And  many  nations  shall  come,  and  say.  Come  and  let 
us  go  up  to  the  mountain  of  the  Lord,  to, the  house  of  the 
God  of  Jacob,"  &c.  The  same  words  as  before,  with  very 
little  variation.  And  that  passage  of  a  great  prince's  dream, 
Daniel  ii.  31,  35.  of  "  the  stone  cut  out  of  the  mountain 
without  hands,  that  became  a  great  mountain,  and  filled 
the  earth  ;"  I  can,  for  my  part,  neither  understand  it  in  so 
carnal  a  sense  as  some  do,  nor  in  so  limited  a  sense  as 
others.  Certainly  it  must  signify  some  greater  thing  than 
we  have  yet  seen.  And  such  numerous  accessions  to  the 
church  h)r  the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost  in  converting- 
work,  seem  plainly  intended  and  pointed  out,  Isaiah  liv.  1. 
"Sing,  O  barren,  thou  that  didst  not  bear;  break  forth 
into  singing  and  cry  aloud,  thou  that  didst  not  travail  with 
child  :  for  more  are  the  children  of  the  desolate,"  (of  her 
that  was  so,)  "than  the  children  of  the  nsarried  wife,saith 
the  Lord."  There  should  be  a  far  greater  fruitfulness,  than 
in  the  time  of  their  more  formed,  stable  church  state,  when 
they  appeared  a  people  in  covenant-relation,  married  to 
God.  This,  though  spoken  directly  and  immediately  of 
the  Jewish  church,  means  in  and  by  them  the  universal 
Gospel  church,  whom  that  church  did  in  some  sort  lypi- 
cally  represent.  "  Enlarge  the  place  of  thy  tent,  (so  it 
follows,  ver.  2,  3.)  and  let  them  stretch  lorth  the  curtains 
of  thy  habitations ;  spare  not,  lengthen  thy  cords,  and 
strengthen  thy  stakes :  for  thou  shalt  break  forth  on  the 
right  hand,  and  on  the  left,  and  thy  seed  shall  inherit  the 
Gentiles,  and  make  the  desolate  cities  to  be  inhabited." 
The  like  is  in  Isa.  livi.  6,  &c.  "  A  voice  of  noise  from 
the  city,  a  voice  from  the  temple,  a  voice  of  the  Lord  that 
rendereth  recompense  to  his  enemies.  Before  she  travail- 
ed, she  brought  forth ;  before  her  pain  came,  she  was  de- 
livered of  a  man-child.  Who  hath  heard  such  a  thing  1 
who  hath  seen  such  things  1  shall  the  earth  be  made  to 
bring  forth  in  one  day  1  or  shall  a  nation  be  born  at  once?" 
What  can  this  intend,  but  some  such  mighty  eff"usion  of 
the  Spirit,  by  which  there  shall  be  great  collections  and 
gatherings  in  of  souls  as  it  were  on  a  sudden  7  To  the 
same  purpose  in  Isaiah  Ix.  5.  "  Thou  shalt  see  and  flow 
together,  and  thine  heart  shall  fear  and  be  enlarged,  be- 
cause the  abundance  of  the  sea  shall  be  converted  unto 
thee,"  (the  islanders  or  those  that  inhabit  the  more  mari- 
time pla'-es,)  "  and  the  forces  of  the  Gentiles  shall  come 
unto  thee."  This  is  introduced  in  verse  4.  "  Lift  up  thine 
eyes  round  about  and  see:  all  they  gather  themselves  to- 
gether, they  come  to  thee,  thy  soils  shall  come  from  far, 
and  thy  daughters  shall  be  nursed  at  thy  side."  And  ver. 
8.  "  Who  are  these  that  fly  as  a  cloud,  and  as  the  doves 
to  the  windows  1  Gathering  in  like  great  flocks  of  doves, 
that  as  a  dense  opacous  cloud  darken  the  air  as  they  fly  ! 


Which  numerous  increase  is  most  emphatically  signified 
by  the  apt  and  elegant  metaphor  used  Psalm  ex.  3.  where 

it  is  said  the  subjects  of  Christ's  kingdom  should  be  mul- 
tiplied "  as  dew  from  the  womb  of  the  morning."  That 
is  a  vast  and  spacious  womb;  imagine,  how  innumerable 
drops  of  dew  distil  out  from  thence;  such  .-shall  the  mul- 
titude of  the  converts  be  in  the  Christian  church.  That 
such  .scriptures  have  been  fulfilling,  ever  since  the  first 
dawnmgs  of  Christianity,  there  is  no  doubt;  but  the  mag- 
nificence of  the  expressions  of  many  of  these  prophecies 
seems  yet  to  be  very  far  from  bein?  answered  by  corres- 
pondent efl^ects.  That  pa'^sage  in  Joel  ii.  28.  where  it  is 
said,  that  "  the  Spirit  shall  be  poured  forth  upon  all  fle.sb," 
we  are  told,  it  is  true,  in  Acts  ii.  16.  that  it  had  its  accom- 
plishment: "  This  is  that  which  was  spoken  by  the  pro- 
phet," saith  Peter,  when  the  people  began  to  wonder  at 
what  they  saw,  ujjon  that  strance  pouring  forth  of  the  Spi- 
rit on  the  day  of  Pentecost.  But  it  is  plain,  that  he  did 
not  intend,  that  the  completion  of  that  prophecy  wa.s  con- 
fined to  that  jioint  of  time.  For  afterwards,  in  ver.  35).  he 
tells  them  that  were  now  awakened,  and  cried,  "Men  and 
brethren,  what  shall  we  dol"  that  they  must  "  repent  and 
be  baptized,  and  they  should  receive  the  gift  of  the  Holy 
Ghost."  For,  saith  he,  "the  promise"  (that  promise  most 
apparently,  that  he  had  relerence  to  before)  "js  unto  you, 
and  to  your  children,  and  to  nil  that  are  afar  ofl^,  even  as 
many  as  the  Lord  our  God  shall  call."  So  that  all  that 
was  intended  in  that  prophecy  is  not  fulfilled,  till  God 
hath  done  calling.  And  many  other  scriptures  seem  lo 
intimate,  that  there  shall  he  a'  time  of  far  more  general 
calling,  than  hath  been  hitherto  ;  when  the  receiving  and 
gathering  in  "  of  the  Jews  shall  he  as  life  from  the  dead," 
as  a  resurrection  from  the  dead,  Rom.  xi.  15.  and  when 
the  fulness  of  the  Gentiles  shall  come  in,  ver.  25.  The 
way  of  speaking  implies,  that  that  fulness  or  plenitude  was 
yet  behind,  to  succeed  after  the  apostle's  lime ;  and  no 
such  time  hath  succeeded  yet. 

2dly,  There  are  many  sciiptures  also,  that  speak  of  the 
great  improvement  and  growth  of  Christians  by  the  imme- 
diate work  of  the  Spirit  of  God.  When  1  say  imvicdiate, 
I  don't  mean,  as  if  it  did  work  without  means;  bm  that 
by  the  means  it  doih  itself  immediately  reach  its  subject; 
and  therefore,  that  all  the  operations  ol  the  Spirit,  whether 
in  converting  or  in  building  up  of  souls,  lie  not  in  the  in- 
.struments,  but  strike  through  all,  so  as  to  reach  their  sub- 
ject. But  that  only  on  the  by.  Many  scriptures  speak  of 
the  great  improvement  of  the  church  in  point  of  holiness; 
so  that  it  shall  increase,  not  only  in  extent,  but  in  glory, 
and  in  respect  of  the  lustre,  loveliness,  and  splendour  of 
religion  in  it ;  that  it  shall  become  a  much  more  beautiful 
and  attractive  thing,  according  to  the  representation  which 
it  shall  have  in  the  profession  and  conversation  of  them 
that  sincerely  embrace  it.  Which  I  suppose  to  be  more 
especially  pointed  at  in  such  passages  as  these,  Isa.  Ix.  1, 
2,  3.  "  Arise,  shine,  for  thy  light  is  come,  and  the  glory  of 
the  Lord  is  risen  upon  thee.  For  behold,  the  darkness 
shall  cover  the  earth,  and  gross  darkness  the  people :  hut  the 
Lord  shall  arise  upon  thee,  and  his  glory  shall  be  seen  upou 
thee.  And  the  Gentiles  shall  come  to  ihy  light,  and  kings 
to  the  brightness  of  thy  rising."  This  speaks  that  religion 
should  be  so  glorious  a  thing  in  its  own  subject,  as  by  that 
means  to  be  inviting  and  attractive  to  those  that  were  with- 
out the  church;  and  so  doth  directly  and  immediately 
speak  of  such  an  effect,  as  should  be  wrought  by  the  Spirit 
of  God  upon  persons  seriouslv  religious  themselves,  to 
make  them  far  to  excel  and  outshine  the  glory  of  former  time 
and  ages.  This  also  is  the  more  peculiar  aspect  and  refer- 
ence of  that  prophecy  in  Mai.  iv.  2.  "  But  unto  you  that  fear 
my  name,  shall  the  Sun  of  righteousness  arise  with  healing 
under  his  wings."  That  is,  in  that  day  of  the  Lord  spoken 
of  in  ver.  1.  "Behold,  the  day  comeih,  that  shall  burn  as 
an  oven ;  and  all  the  proud,  yea,  and  all  that  do  wickedly, 
shall  be  stubble,  and  the  day  that  eomeih  shall  burn  them 
up,  saith  the  Lord  of  hosts,  that  it  shall  leave  them  neither 
root  nor  branch."  Here  is  a  piediction  of  such  an  opera- 
tion of  the  Spirit,  as  hath  the  actual  fearers  of  God  already 
for  the  subject  of  it;  upon  them  the  Sun  of  righteousness 
shall  arise  withreviving,  cherishing  beams,  and  make  them 
spring  and  prosper  and  flourish  even  as  calves  of  the  stall,  as 
it  is  there  expressed.  Religion  will  not  then  be  such  a  faint, 


578 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT  IN 


Serm.  V, 


languid,  impotent  thing,  as  now  it  is,  that  makes  men  dif- 
fer very  little  from  other  men,  makes  them  but  to  look  and 
walk  and  converse  as  others  do. 

3dly.  Other  scriptures  speak  of  both  these  effects  toge- 
ther; and  so  of  the  increase  of  the  church  both  ways  at 
once,  both  in  extent  and  glory.  As  I  reckon  all  those  may 
be  understood  to  have  that  import,  that  speak  of  the  new 
heavens  and  the  new  earth  that  should  be  in  the  latter 
limes:  which  are  only  metaphorical  expressions;  the 
heaven  and  the  earth  being  the  universe,  making  up  the 
frame  and  compages  of  nature.  These  expressions  are 
only  borrowed,  and  denote  how  universal  and  glorious  a 
change  should  be  in  the  world  ;  for  these  new  heavens  and 
that  new  earth  are  specified  by  the  same  adjunct,  wherein 
dwelleth  righteousness,  in  one  of  those  texts.  We  have  it 
mentioned  twice  in  the  prophecy  of  Isaiah,  that  he  would 
create  new  heavens  and  a  new  earth,  chap.  Ixv.  17.  chap. 
Ixvi.  22.  And  in  2  Pet.  iii.  13.  that  in  these  there  should 
dwell  righteousness.  The  renovation  should  consist  in 
this;  and  both  the  universality  and  the  intensive  perfection 
of  it  are  signified.  The  heavens  and  the  earth,  that  is, 
the  whole  frame  of  things,  should  be  the  subject  of 
the  alteration ;  and  this  alteration  should  be  a  renova- 
tion, the  making  of  them  new,  that  is,  better  ;  as  the  new- 
ness of  things  is  an  ordinary  Scripture  expression  of  the 
excellency  of  them.  Now  the  creation  of  these  must  refer 
to  this  time  of  the  great  restitution:  as  John  speaks.  Rev. 
xxi.  1.  "  I  saw  a  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth;  for  the 
first  heaven  and  the  first  earth  were  passed  away ;"  the 
former  frame  of  things  was  all  vanished  and  gone  ;  nothing 
was  like  its  former  self,  but  all  things  were  made  new,  as 
is  added  ver.  5.  a  day  wherein  there  should  be  as  it  were 
a  new-making  of  the  world.  The  following  texts  also 
speak  of  that  double  increase  of  the  church  jointly,  Isa. 
xxxii.  14,  15.  A  time  and  state  of  great  desolation  is 
spoken  of  as  preceding,  and  to  be  continued.  Till  when  1 
"  Until  the  Spirit  be  poured  upon  us,  from  on  high:"  and 
what  then  1  "The  wilderness  shall  *be  a  fruitful  field." 
There  is  the  taking  in  of  more  from  the  world,  extending 
the  territories  of  the  church  further,  the  enclosing  of  much 
more  of  the  wilderness  than  hath  hitherto  been  :  "  and  the 
fruitful  field  be  counted  for  a  forest :"  that,  which  was  be- 
fore reckoned  a  fruitful  field,  be  counted  to  have  been  hut 
as  a  forest,  in  comparison  of  wl.at  it  shall  be  improved  to: 
there  is  the  increase  of  the  church  in  respect  of  the  liveli- 
ness and  power  of  religion  among  convert!:j.  So  in  chap. 
XXXV.  1,2.  "  The  wilderne,ss  and  the  solitary  place  shall 
be  glad  for  them,  and  the  desert  shall  rejoice,  and  blossom 
as  the  rose.  It  shall  blossom  abundantly,  and  rejoice  even 
with  joy  and  singing ;  the  glory  of  Lebanon  shall  be  given 
unto  it,  the  excellency  of  Carmel  and  Sharon  ;  they  shall 
see  the  glory  of  the  Lord,  and  the  excellency  of  our  God." 

And  both  these  effects,  numerous  conversions,  and  the 
high  improvements  of  converts,  are  so  connatural,  so  con- 
generous, do  so  very  well  agree  with  one  another,  that  we 
may  very  well  suppose  them  to  go  together,  that  the  former 
will  be  accompanied  with  the  latter.  For  this  great  effu- 
sion of  the  Spirit  we  must  understand  to  be  sanative,  in- 
tended for  the  healing  of  a  diseased  world,  and  to  repair 
the  corrupted  forlorn  stale  of  things;  and  therefore  must 
be  proportionable  to  the  state  of  the  case,  in  reference 
whereto  it  is  to  be  a  means  of  cure.  It  is  very  apparent, 
that  wickedness,  as  it  is  the  more  diffusive,  is  always  the 
more  malignant.  The  diffusion  and  the  malignity  are  wont 
to  accompany  one  another;  just  as  it  is  with  diseases,  the 
plague  and  other  distempers  that  are  noisome  and  dan- 
gerous; they  are  always  more  mortal  as  they  are  more 
contagious  and  spreading;  and  so  are  extensively  and 
intensively  worse  at  the  same  time.  And  it  must  be  pro- 
portionabiy  so  in  the  means  of  cure ;  there  must  be  .such  a 
pouring  forth  of  the  Spirit,  that  will  answer  the  exigency 
of  the  case  in  both  respects,  that  there  be  very  numerous 
conversions,  and  great  improvement  of  con  verts  unto  high- 
er and  more  excellent  pitches  of  religion,  than  have  been 
usually  known  in  former  times. 

Objection.  But  here  it  may  be  said,  that  it  is  very  diffi- 
cult to  conceive,  how  all  this  should  be,  considering  what 
the  present  stale  and  posture  of  the  world  is.  As  if  we 
cast  our  eyes  about  u.'  and  consider,  how  it  is  in  vast  parts 
of  it  yet  overrun  with  paganism,  in  others  with  Mahomet- 


anism,  in  others  with  antichristian  pollutions  and  abomi- 
nations: when  we  consider,  how  it  is  generally  sunk  in 
atheism  and  oblivion  of  God,  dreiiched  in  wickedness ;  and 
even  that  part  of  it  that  is  called  Christian,  how  little  it  is 
better  than  the  rest.  The  great  doctrines  of  the  Christian 
religion,  the  incarnation,  the  death,  the  resurrection  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Chri.st,  the  future  judgment,  and  the  eternal 
states  of  men,  all  become  even  as  antiquated  things!  pro- 
fessedly believed  for  fashion's  sake,  because  it  is  not  con- 
venient to  pretend  to  be  of  no  religion  :  but  yet  all  these 
things  lie  with  the  most  as  ineffecltial,  insipid,  unoperative 
notions  in  their  minds,  that  do  nothing;  and  notwithstand- 
ing which  they  are,  and  practise,  jusf  as  they  would  do,  if 
they  believed  no  such  things.  When  we  consider  this  to 
be  the  present  state  and  posture  of  the  world,  it  is  hard  to 
conceive  how  such  a  change  as  this  should  come.  And 
many  may  be  apt  to  say  in  reference  to  this  same  HuXiyyt- 
veaia,  this  renovation  or  regenerationof  the  church,  the  res- 
titution of  religion,  as  Nicodemus  said  concerning  the  rege- 
neration of  a  particular  person,  "  How  can  such  things  be  1" 

Answer.  Indeed  the  long-continued  restraints  of  the 
acts  of  absolute  omnipotency  make  it  even  to  seem  but 
equal  to  impotency  ;  and  men  expect  as  little  from  the  one 
as  from  the  other.  When  great  and  extraordinary  things 
have  not  been  done  through  a  long  tract  of  time,  they  are 
no  more  expected  or  looked  for  from  the  most  potent  cause, 
than  they  are  from  a  most  impotent.  And  therefore,  when 
any  great  thing  is  done  for  the  church  and  interest  of  God 
in  the  world,  it  comes  under  this  character,  things  that  we 
looked  not  for,  (Isa.  Ixiv.  3.)  things  that  do  even  surprise 
and  transcend  expectation,  and  which  no  man  would  have 
thought  of.  Men  are  very  unapt  to  entertain  the  belief  and 
expectation  of  things,  that  are  so  much  above  the  verge 
and  sphere  of  ordinary  observation.  We  expect  to  see 
what  we  have  been  wont  to  see ;  and  men  are  apt  to  mea- 
sure thei^'  faith  by  their  eyes  for  the  most  part  in  reference 
to  such  things,  that  that  can  be  done  which  they  have  seen 
done;  but  are  hardly  brought  to  raise  their  faith  and  ex- 
pectation to  higher  pitches  than  so. 

To  make  things  therefore  as  conceivable  as  we  can,  we 
.shall  point  out  briefly,  in  what  way  and  by  what  methods 
and  steps  we  may  suppose  so  great  a  change  to  be  brought 
about  by  such  an  effusion  of  the  Spirit.  For,  as  was  said, 
it  will  not  do  the  business  with  most,  that  the  Spirit  of 
God  can  do  all  this,  which  will  be  granted  at  the  very 
first  hearing;  but  a  lively  apprehension  of  these  events  to 
be  brought  about  is  not  ordinarily  begotten,  but  by  seeing 
a  way  traced  out,  from  point  to  point,  and  from  step  to 
step,  how  and  by  what  degrees  such  a  work  may  be  carried 
on;  and  then  the  representation  in  that  way  being  some- 
what more  lively,  the  impression  that  is  made  by  it  on  the 
spirits  of  men  is  accordingly  more  lively.  But  of  this 
more  particularly  hereafter. 

I  shall  shut  up  the  present  discourse  with  desiring  you 
to  remind  and  reflect  upon  the  tendency  of  all  this  ;  that 
our  souls  may  be  possessed  with  a  serious  apprehension, 
and  thence  have  a  lively  hope  begotten  in  them,  of  such 
a  time  and  state  of  things  to  come,  wherein  religion  shall 
prosper  and  flourish  in  the  world,  though  now  it  be  at  so 
low  an  ebb.  I  may  say  to  you,  as  Paul  did  to  Agrippa, 
Acts  xxvi.  8.  Why  should  it  be  thought  an  incredible 
thing,  that  God  should  raise  the  dead  1  why  should  it  be 
thought  an  incredible  thing,  that  there  should  be  a  resur- 
rection of  religion  1  Thy  dead  men  shall  live,  and  together 
with  my  deadbody  .shall  they  arise.  He  hath  said  it,  that 
knows  how  to  make  it  good ;  "  who  is  the  resurrection 
and  the  life,"  Isa.  xxvi.  19. 

And  really  it  would  signify  much  to  us,  to  have  our 
hearts  filled  with  present  hope ;  though  we  have  no  hope 
(as  was  formally  supposed,  admitting  that  supposition)  of 
seeing  it  with  our  own  eyes  in  our  own  days.  Such  a  hope 
would  however  not  be  unaccompanied  with  a  vital  joy. 
"  Abraham  rejoiced  to  see  my  day:  and  he  saw  if,  and 
was  glad  ;"  though  it  was  above  two  thousand  years  before. 
Plain  it  is,  there  is  not  a  more  stupifying  benumbing  thing 
in  all  the  world,  than  mere  despair.  To  look  upon  such  a 
sad  face  and  aspect  of  things  through  the.  world,  as  we 
have  before  our  eyes :  to  look  upon  it  despairingly,  and 
with  the  apprehension  that  it  never  will,  never  can,  be  bet- 
ter; nothing  can  more  stupify  and  bind  up  the  powers  of 


Sf.rm.  VI. 


REFERENCE  TO  THE  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH. 


579 


our  souls,  and  sink  us  into  a  desponding  meanness  of  spi- 
rit. But  hope  is  a  kind  of  anticipated  enjoyment,  and 
gives  a  present  participation  in  the  expected  pleasantness 
jf  those  days,  how  long  soever  they  may  yet  be  off  from 
us.  By  such  a  lively  hope,  we  have  a  presentation,  a  feel- 
ing in  our  own  spirit  of  what  is  to  come,  that  should  even 
make  our  hearts  rejoice,  and  our  bones  to  flourish  as  an 
herb.  Religion  shall  not  be  an  inglorious  thing  in  the 
■world  always  ;  it  will  not  always  be  ignominious  to  be  se- 
rious, to  be  a  fearer  of  the  Lord,  to  be  a  designer  for  hea- 
ven and-  for  a  blessed  eternity.  When  these  things,  that 
common  and  prevailing  custom  hath  made  ridiculous,  with 
their  own  high  reasonableness,  shall  have  custom  itself 
and  a  common  reputation  concurring  ;  how  will  religion 
at  that  time  lift  up  its  head,  when  there  is  such  a  blessed 
conjunction  !  It  is  strange  to  think,  that  so  very  ab.'^urd 
things,  as  the  neglecting  of  God,  the  forgetting  of  eternity, 
the  disregarding  of  men's  souls  and  everlasting  concern- 
ments, should  even  be  justified  by  custom,  so  that  nobody 
is  ashamed  of  them,  because  they  do  but  as  other  men  do 
in  these  things :  to  be  immersed  all  their  life-time  in  the 
world,  to  mind  nothing  else  but  earthly  business,  as  if  they 
were  made  all  of  earth,  and  only  for  earth  ;  such  most  ab- 
surd things  even  seem  to  be  justified  by  common  practice; 
men  are  not  ashamed  of  them,  because  they  are  but  like 
their  neighbours.  But  when  persons  shall  agree  with  one 
another  in  being  serious,  heavenly,  avowing  the  fear  of 
God,  in  e.xpress  devotedness  and  subjection  to  him;  when 
the  concurrence  of  common  practice  shall  be  taken  in  with 
the  high  reasonableness  of  the  things  themselves,  how 
magnificently  will  religion  look  in  thai  day  !  And  if  we 
would  but  labour  so  to  represent  the  matter  to  ourselves 
beforehand,  by  a  lively  hope  of  such  a  state  of  things,  we 
should  have  the  anticipated  enjoyment  of  the  felicity  of 
those  times  ;  and  have  a  great  deal  of  reason,  though  it  may 
be  we  are  to  suffer  hard  and  grievous  things  in  the  mean 
while,  to  compose  ourselves,  and  to  enter  upon  that  state  of 
suffering  very  cheerfully  ;  to  wait  patiently  and  pray  ear- 
nestly, that  of  so  great  a  harvest  of  spiritual  blessings  to 
come  upon  the  world  in  future  time,  we  may  have  some 
first-fruits  in  the  mean  time.  As  it  is  not  unusual,  when  some 
very  great  and  general  shower  is  ready  to  fall,  some  pre- 
cious scattering  drops  light  here  and  there  as  forerunners. 
And  we  should  encourage  ourselves  in  the  expectation 
of  a  present  portion,  sufficient  for  our  present  turn  and  the 
exigency  of  our  own  case  ;  for  we  have  this  comfortable 
consideration  before  us,  that  there  is  always  so  much  of 
the  Spirit  to  be  had,  that  w^ill  serve  the  necessities  of  every 
Christian  that  seriously  seeks  it.  He  will  give  his  Spirit 
to  his  children  that  ask  him,  as  readily  surely  as  they  that 
are  evil  will  give  good  gifts  to  theirs.  At  all  times  there 
is  so  much  of  the  Spirit  to  be  had,  as,  though  it  will  not 
mend  the  world,  will  mend  us;  if  it  will  not  better  the 
external  state  of  things,  it  will  better  our  spirits ;  and  so, 
if  not  keep  off  suffering,  yet  will  prepare  and  qualify  us 
for  it:  and  that  sure  is  a  greater  thing,  than  to  have  suf- 
fering kept  off;  for  that  is  but  an  external  and  natural  evil, 
this  internal  and  spiritual.  It  would  be  a  great  thing,  if 
persons  would  admit  the  conviction  of  this,  (and  there  is 
not  a  plainer  thing  in  all  the  world,)  that  patience  is  better 
than  immunity  from  suflTering:  that  great  and  noble  effect 
of  the  Spirit  of  God  upon  the  soul,  whereby  it  is  brought 
into  an  entire  possession  of  itself !  Is  that  to  be  compared 
with  a  little  advantage  that  only  my  flesh  and  outward 
man  is  capable  of  1  Good  things  are  to  be  estimated  by  the 
greatness  and  nobleness  of  their  subjects.  Sure  a  good  of 
the  mind,  of  the  soul,  must  needs  be  far  better  than  that 
which  is  only  a  good  of  the  body,  of  this  perishing  exter- 
nal frame ;  and  therefore  for  us,  it  is  as  great  a  thing  as 
we  can  reasonably  wish,  that  we  may  have  such  a  portion 
of  the  Spirit  imparted  to  us,  that  will  qualifv  us  to  pass 
well  and  comfortably  through  any  time.  And  have  not  we 
reason  to  expect  this,  even  upon  what  is  foretold  us  con- 
cerning what  shall  be  done  in  the  world  hereafter'?  May 
not  I  look  up  with  a  great  deal  of  hope  and  encourage- 
ment, and  say,  "  Lord,  that  Spirit  of  thine  that  shall  one 
day  so  flow  down  upon  the  world,  may  not  I  have  some 
portion  of  it  to  answer  my  present  nece.ssities  ?  and  that 
Spirit,  that  can  new-make  the  world,  that  can  create  new 

•  Preached  June  18.  1678. 


heavens  and  a  new  earth,  cannot  that  new-make  one  poor 
soul  1  cannot  it  better  one  poor  heart  V  To  have  a  new- 
heart  and  a  right  spirit  created  and  renewed  in  us,  is  bet- 
ter to  us,  than  all  the  world  ;  and  we  have  no  reason  to 
look  up  diflldenily  and  with  despondency,  but  with  hearts 
full  of  expectation.  He  will  give  his  Spirit  to  them  that 
ask  him. 


SERMON  VI.* 

Wk  have  told  you,  wherein  a  good  state  for  the  church 
would  consist,  to  wit,  in  these  two  things  concurring, — the 
flourishing  of  religion,  and — outward  peace. — I  have  .said, 
concurring ;  for  if  they  should  be  so  severed,  as  that  ex- 
ternal prosperity  should  go  unaccompanied  with  much  of 
the  power  and  life  of  religion,  the  case  would  be  much 
worse  with  the  church  of  God,  rather  than  better.  So  tnie 
the  observation  is,  that  religion  brought  forth  riches,  and 
then  the  daughter  destroyed  the  mother.  We  must  say  in 
this  case  somewhat  like  what  they  have  been  wont  to  say, 
who  would  give  a  favourable  representation  of  Epicurus, 
and  his  doctrine  concerning  the  matter  of  felicity,  that 
would  make  his  notion  of  it  to  consist  of  satisfaction  of 
mind  and  indolency  of  the  body.  There  mu-;t  be  a  like 
concurrence  of  two  such  things  to  make  up  an  entire  and 
completely  happy  state  to  the  church  ;  principally  a  pros- 
perous state  of  religion,  and  then  (that  which  would  be 
very  much  adjumeiital  and  accessory)  a  peaceful  and  se- 
date external  state  of  things. 

This  being  supposed,  and  having  told  you  what  .sort  of 
communication  of  the  Spirit  is  to  be  expected,  we  came  to 
show  the  apt  and  appropriate  usefulness  of  the  means  to 
the  end.  For  the  clearing  of  this,  we  proposed  to  speak — 
1.  Of  the  c^c^.cy,  and, — 2.  Of  ihe  rucessity  of  (bis  mean  or 
cause  to  bring  about  the  end. 

We  are  yet  upon  the  former  of  these  heads,  the  efficary 
of  this  effusion  of  the  Spirit  to  work  a  very  happy  state  of 
things  in  the  church  of  God.  We  have  shown,  what  it  is 
easily  supposable  the  Spirit  may  do  towards  this  purpose, 
both  by  way  of  mediate  and  of  immediate  influence;  both 
in  producing  numerous  conversions,  and  then  high  im- 
provements of  converts ;  and  in  reference  to  both  have 
mentioned  many  scriptures,  and  might  many  more,  to  let 
you  see  what  we  are  taught  and  encouraged  to  expect. 

We  would  now  use  some  endeavour,  for  the  facilitating 
of  our  belief  concerning  this  matter,  and  to  render  it  more 
easily  apprehensible  and  familiar  to  our  own  thoughts; 
that  it  might  not  be  looked  upon  as  an  impossible  thing,  or 
as  altogether  unlikely  and  improbable  to  be  brought  to 
pass.  To  this  purpose  let  us  consider, — 1.  What  hath 
been  done  in  like  kind  heretofore : — '2.  In  what  way  .«aich 
a  thing  may  be  supposed  to  be  brought  about ;  by  what 
steps,  and  in  what  method,  and  by  the  conspiracy  and  con- 
sent of  what  subordinate  causes  such  a  thing  may  be  ef- 
fected : — 3.  How  suitable  and  congruous  every  way  it  is 
to  the  blessed  God  to  do  such  a  thing. 

I.  We  may  a  little  help  ourselves  in  this  matter,  by 
taking  an  estimate  from  what  hath  been, unto  what  may  be. 
Much  hath  been  done  in  the  like  kind  heretofore.  You 
know  how  it  was  with  the  Christian  church  in  its  begin- 
nings, in  its  very  primordia,  when  the  light  of  the  Gospel 
was  but  dawning  upon  the  world.  How  great  and  unex- 
pected were  the  changes,  that  were  brought  about  them  all 
on  a  sudden  !  Partly  in  our  Lord's  time  ;  and  more  espe- 
cially, when  the  Spirit  was  more  eminently  poured  forth 
afterwards  in  the  apostles"  days  !  Insomuch  that  you  find 
the  matter  represented  by  such  expressions  as  these,  con- 
cerning Christ  himself  in  his  own  time  ;  "  Behold,  the 
whole  world  is  gone  after  him,''  John  xii.  19.  So  the 
anxious  and  vexed  minds  of  the  rulers  amongst  that  peo- 
ple did  suggest  to  them  ;  "  We  have  lost  all.  the  whole 
world  will  be  his  proselytes  at  this  rate.''  But  especially 
when  the  Spirit  came  to  be  poured  forth  after  his  resurrec- 
tion and  ascension;  by  that  same  means,  "not  by  might 
nor  by  power,  but  by  Spirit,"  what  strange  things  were 
done  !  And  who  would  have  expected  such  things  to  have 


580 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT  IN 


Serm.  Vf. 


been  done  then,  that  had  lived  at  that  time;  if  it  should 
have  been  foretold,  that  twelve  men  should  conveit  so 
great  a  part  of  the  world  1  and  with  what  amused,  diffident 
spirits  did  they  receive  their  own  commissions  and  instruc- 
tions, when  that  strange  thing  was  said  to  them,  "  Go  you, 
and  teach  all  nations  "?"  Suppose  twelve  persons  should  be 
picked  out  from  among  us,  and  such  a  charge  given  them, 
"  Go  and  proselyte  the  world  unlo  serious  religion  !"  Yet 
we  know  what  was  done.  It  is  said  in  one  place,  Acts 
xix.  26.  This  Paul  hath  turned  away  much  people;  this 
one  man  ;  and  in  another.  Acts  xvii.  6.  Those  that  have 
turned  the  world  upside  down,  are  come  hither  also. 
Thousands  were  converted  at  a  sermon,  the  sound  of  the 
Gospel  tiying  to  the  utmo.st  ends  of  the  earth.  And  this 
was  but  in  pursuance  of  what  Christ  foretold  should  be 
done  by  his  Spirit.  These  men  did  not  levy  armies  to 
carry  religion  abroad  into  the  world.  When  their  hearts 
seemed  to  fail  and  sink  within  them,  as  despairing  from  the 
greatness  of  the  enterprise,  and  the  meanness  of  such  agents 
as  themselves  were  ;  they  were  only  directed  to  stay  and 
wait  awhile,  till  they  should  receive  power  from  on  high, 
Acts  i.  4,  8.  And  when  at  last  it  came,  with  what  won- 
ders did  these  men  fill  the  world  !  Christ  told  them  there- 
fore, John  xvi.  7,  &c.  It  is  expedient  for  you,  that  I  go 
away  ;  for  if  I  go  not  away,  the  Comforter  will  not  come 
unto  you  ;  but  if  I  depart,  I  will  send  him  unto  you  :  and 
■when  he  is  come,  he  will  convince  the  world.  We  read 
it,  "  the  Comforter."  The  word  signifies,  (and  it  would 
be  more  fitly  unto  that  purpose  read,)  the  advocate,  or  the 
pleader;  so  rmnm^^nroi  more  properly  imports.  "When 
that  mighty  Pleader  comes ;  my  Agent,  that  I  intend  shall 
negotiate  my  affairs  for  me  (when  I  am  gone)  against  an 
infidel  world  ;  then  let  him  alone,  he  shall  deaf  with  the 
world,  as  infidel  and  wicked  as  it  is.  '  He  shall  convince 
of  sin,  and  righteousness  and  judgment.'  Whereas  I  have 
been  reproached  as  a  blasphemer,  and  a  deceiver  of  the 
people,  and  one  that  hath  designed  only  to  set  up  for  my- 
self, and  to  acquire  a  name  and  reputation  among  men  ; 
he  shall  urge  on  my  behalf  the  sin  of  the  world  in  not  be- 
leving  in  me;  and  my  righteousness,  both  personal  and 
imputable,  capable  of  being  applied  unto  others ;  and  he 
shall  urge  efficaciously  the  busine.ss  of  judgment  upon  the 
usurping  prince  of  this  world,  and  dethrone  him,  and  cast 
him  down."     And  so  it  did  succeed  in  very  great  part. 

And  how  lively  and  vigorous  was  the  religion  of  the 
primitive  Christians  at  that  time,  those  first  owners  and 
professors  of  the  Christian  faith !  how  did  heavenliness, 
spirituality,  and  the  life  and  power  that  was  from  above, 
sparkle  in  their  profession  and  conversation!  That  one 
might  see  ihem  walking  like  so  man}^  pieces  of  immorta- 
lity, dropping  down  from  heaven,  and  tending  Ihitherward; 
all  full  of  God,  and  full  of  Christ,  and  full  of  heaven,  and 
full  of  glory:  and  this  world  was  nothing  to  them;  tram- 
pled upon  as  a  despicable,  contemptible  thing. 

Now  we  may  say  with  ourselves,  Quicqvid  fieri  potuit, 
■potest :  that  which  could  iMve  been  done,  and  v^e  see  was 
done,  viay  still  be  done.  "  Is  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  strait- 
ened 1     Is  his  arm  shortened  1" 

II.  It  would  very  much  facilitate  the  belief  of  such  a 
thing,  at  least  the  apprehension  of  it  as  very  possible,  to 
consi  'er,  in  what  easy  and  apt  vv'ays,  and  by  how  fit  and 
suitable  a  method,  such  a  work  as  this  may  be  carried  on. 
And  it  will  be,  I  reckon,  to  good  purpose  to  in.sist  a  little 
here  ;  for  when  the  workings  of  any  extraordinary  Divine 
power  have  been  long  withheld  and  restrained,  (as  was 
said,)  the  thoughts  and  apprehensions  of  such  a  thing  is 
very  much  vanished  out  of  the  minds  of  men  ;  and  they 
expect  generally  as  little  from  absolute  omnipotency  as 
from  mere  impotency,  because  their  eyesight  is  usually  the 
measure  of  their  expectation.  Therefore  the  more  easy 
steps  we  may  suppose  to  be  taken  in  such  a  work,  so  much 
the  more  apprehensible  the  thing  will  be,  and  so  much  the 
more  vivid  the  apprehension,  and  the  deeper  the  impression 
iipon  our  hearts ;  which  is  the  great  thing  we  should  aim  at 
m  the  hearing  of  any  Gospel  truth  or  doctrine  whatsoever. 

Now  it  must  be  acknowledged,  that  a  very  great  and 
extraordinary  exertion  of  Divine  power,  the  power  of  the 
blessed  Spirit,  is  necessary  in  this  ca,se.  Such  an  extraor- 
dinary effort  of  absolute  omnipotency  there  v/as  at  first  to 
create  the  world :  but  wlien  once  it  was  created,  there  was 


a  settlement  of  a  certain  law  or  course  of  nature,  and  a 
staling  of  all  second  causes  in  their  proper  stations  and 
subordinations,  in  which  the  affairs  of  the  world  have  ever 
since  been  carried  on  in  an  equal  and  very  little  varied 
course  ;  which  hath  given  atheists  occasion  to  cavil,  "  All 
things  are  as  they  were  from  the  beginning,  even  unto  this 
day."  This  may  assist  us  to  apprehend,  how  things  being 
once  by  so  wonderful  a  hand  put  well  onwards  towards  a 
good  state,  the  course  may  be  continued,  and  the  great  in- 
terest of  religion  improved  more  and  more.  Suppose  it  be 
somewhat  proportionably  in  this  new  creation,  the  making 
new  heavens  and  a  new  earth,  as  it  was  in  the  making  of 
the  world  at  first.  There  must  once  be  an  extraordinary 
effort  of  omnipotency  or  an  almighty  power ;  but  that  being 
once  supposed,  it  is  easily  apprehensible,  how  many  things 
may  concur  and  fall  in,  what  a  conspiracy  of  inferior  and 
subservient  caiises  there  may  be,  to  promote  and  help  on 
the  reviving  of  religion  in  the  world.  That  extraordinary 
effusion  of  the  Spirit  therefore  once  supposed,  we  will  go 
on  to  particulars  that  will  be  easily  supposable  to  succeed, 
and  to  be  subservient  and  ministering  causes  in  this  work. 

1.  There  will  be  a  great  observation,  no  doubt,  of  what- 
soever shall  be  at  first  done  in  this  kind,  for  the  recovery 
of  religion  in  the  world.  It  is  a  matter  that  will  naturally 
draw  observation.  The  course,  wherein  the  interest  and 
kingdom  of  God  is  ordinarily  promoted  in  the  world,  is 
rather  governed  by  that  maxim.  The  kingdom  of  God 
cometh  not  with  observation,  Luke  xvii.  20.  The  affairs  of 
it  are  carried  on  in  a  more  still  and  calm  and  silent  way. 
But  when  God  does  (as  we  must  suppose  him  to  do)  step 
out  of  his  course  in  this  case  ;  no  doubt  that  first  effect,  or 
the  Spirit  of  God,  when  it  comes  to  shake  the  spirits  of 
men  somewhat  generally,  and  makes  them  bestir  them- 
selves ;  this  cannot  but  be  a  very  noted  thing.  If  any  con- 
siderable number  in  one  such  city  as  this  should  all  on  a 
sudden  be  struck,  and  a  remarkable  change  be  made  upon 
them;  if  several  notoriously  debauched  and  dissolute  per- 
sons should  become  very  serious,  sober,  praying  men  ; 
some  noted  to  be  very  great  worldlings,  that  one  could 
never  hear  any  thing  from  but  what  savoured  of  earth  or 
<an  earthly  design,  now  become  eminently  godly,  spiritual, 
heavenly  in  all  their  conversation  ;  this  would  be  very 
much  observed  and  taken  notice  of,  as  somewhat  a  strange 
and  new  thing.     And, 

2.  Upon  such  observation,  the  minds  of  men  will  be 
filled  with  wonder,  and  much  amusement.  "  What  a 
strange  thing  is  this,  that  such  a  great  number  of  people 
will  not  be  as  they  have  been,  and  do  as  they  have  done! 
Such  as  could  drink  and  swear  and  rant  with  the  rest  of 
their  dissolute  neighbours,  are  now  taken  up  all  of  a  sud- 
den, and  do  no  such  thing  I  We  can  hear  them  speaking 
of  God  and  heaven  and  eternity,  unto  whom  all  thoughts 
of  any  such  thing  seemed  perfect  strangers  !"  Men  will  be 
very  apt  to  be  amused,  when  such  a  thing  as  this  shall  be. 

3.  That  amusement  and  wonder,  will  beget  discourse 
about  it  from  person  to  person.  It  will  grow,  as  we  may 
easily  apprehend,  into  matter  of  talk,  what  changes  appear 
in  such  and  such. 

4.  Such  discourse,  it  is  very  supposable,  may  put  many 
persons  upon  search  and  mquiry ;  first  into  the  truth  of 
the  matter  of  fact,  and  then  into  the  tendency  of  such  a 
thing,  whither  it  drives,  what  kind  of  change  it  is.  Is  it 
true,  yea  or  no,  that  such  things  really  are  '?  And  when 
once  it  comes  to  be  found  really  true,  that  there  are  great 
numbers  of  persons  upon  whom  there  is  a  very  eminent 
and  remarkable  turn  and  change,  either  to  make  debauched 
persons  become  religious,  or  such  as  were  before  religious 
to  become  more  visibly  serious  and  lively  and  active  in  the 
business  of  religion  ;  when  it  is  found,  I  say,  to  be  so,  the 
matter  itself,  Avhich  such  persons  come  to  be  changed  to, 
naturally  comes  under  inquiry  :  Whither  do  these  persons 
tendl  what  do  these  impressions,  that  are  now  upon  their 
minds,  put  them  upon  1  And  it  is  found,  that  they  are 
urged  by  such  impressions  to  mind  God  and  the  Redeemer 
of  souls  more,  the  concernments  of  eternity  and  another 
world ;  and  to  help  all  others  to  do  so  too,  as  much  as  in 
them  lies.  These  things  do  very  aptly  succeed  to  one 
another.  And  so  far  the  case  was  like  this,  in  Acts  ii. 
upon  that  first  eminent  effusion  of  the  Spirit.  The  matter 
came  to  be   noised  abroad,  (v^er.  6.)  and   the  multitude 


Serm.  VI. 


REFERENCE  TO  THE  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH. 


581 


came  together.  And  (ver.  7.)  they  were  all  amazed,  and 
marvielled  :  very  great  amusement  was  upon  the  minds  of 
men.  Though  it  is  true  there  was  somewhat  miraculous 
in  the  case,  that  is,  the  power  of  speaking  variety  of  lan- 
guages all  of  a  sudden;  and  we  suspend  any  judgment 
For  the  present,  about  what  we  are  to  expect  hereafter  in 
the  church  of  God  of  the  same  thing,  or  of  any  thing  of 
like  kind.  But  to  have  so  much,  as  is  of  ordinary  and 
common  concernment  to  souls,  wrought  and  done,  as  hath 
been  mentioned,  somewhat  generally  ;  this  cannot  but  in- 
fer much  observation,  much  wonder  and  amusement  of 
mind  with  others,  much  discourse  and  talk  upon  the  sub- 
ject, and  thereupon  inquiry  both  into  the  truth  and  ten- 
dency of  the  matter  of  fact. 

5.  Upon  such  inquiry,  we  may  suppose  there  will  ensue 
approbation ;  that  is,  at  least  a  judicious  approbation,  that 
shall  go  as  far  as  the  judgment  and  conscience,  though  it 
may  not  suddenly  descend  upon  the  heart  and  afTec'.ions: 
we  may  promise  ourselves  that,  such  being  the  nature  of 
religious  concernments,  and  their  high  reasonableness  so 
very  apparent.  What  is  it  that  these  men  drive  at?  whither 
do  these  new  impressions  on  their  minds  carry  them  1 
Why,  only  to  mind  the  great  Lord  and  Original  and  Au- 
thor of  all  things !  to  give  over  living,  as  the  most  of  men 
have  heretofore  done,  in  a  total  oblivion  and  neglect  of 
their  own  original !  How  strange  is  it  for  men  lately  come 
into  being,  to  live  in  this  world  and  never  think :  How 
came  we  into  being  1  how  came  there  to  be  such  a  thing 
as  man  on  earth"?  such  a  world  as  this  1  so  various  orders 
of  creatures  in  itl  All  that  religion  tends  to,  when  it 
comes  to  revive  in  the  spirits  of  men,  is  but  to  engage 
them  to  look  back  to  their  own  original,  to  consider 
whence  they  sprang;  and  what  duty  they  owe  there,  what 
reverence  and  fear  and  love  ;  and  what  expectations  they 
may  have  from  that  great  and  eternal  and  all-compre- 
hending Being,  from  whom  they  and  all  things  did  pro- 
ceed, and  whereas  they  find  themselves  in  a  lapse  and 
apostacy  with  the  rest  of  mankind,  and  have  the  discovery 
of  a  Redeemer ;  and  of  God  restoring  and  recovering  souls 
by  him  ;  to  consider,  what  trust,  what  love,  what  subjec- 
tion, what  entire  devotedness  is  justly  claimed  as  most  due 
and  fit  to  be  paid  to  him.  When  religion  aims  at  no  other 
things  than  these  ;  we  may  promise  ourselves,  that  the  in- 
quiry will  end  in  approbation  :  all  this  is  equal,  and  right- 
eous, and  good  ;  men  can  have  nothing  to  say  against  it. 
The  concernments  of  religion  are  of  that  sort  and  kind, 
that  they  will  admit  of  search  and  bear  an  inquiry  :  and 
men  are  only  therefore  not  approvers  of  religion  at  least, 
because  they  inquire  not,  and  so  can  understand  no  reason 
imaginable  why  men  should  pretend  to  any  religion  at  all. 
But  the  same  reasons  will  urge  a  thousand  times  more  for 
the  greatest  and  deepest  seriousness  in  religion  :  for  the 
mere  formality  of  religion,  without  the  substance  and  soul, 
is  the  most  absurd  and  ridiculous  thing  in  all  the  world, 
and  for  which  least  is  to  be  said.  The  profession  of  down- 
right atheism  were  a  great  deal  more  rational,  than  to 
pretend  to  the  belief  of  such  a  deity  that  can  be  pleased 
with  trifles  and  shadows ;  than  to  worship  such  a  thing 
for  a  God,  that  cannot  tell  whether  I  love  him  or  no,  and 
fear  him  or  no,  and  have  a  heart  really  propense  and  de- 
voted to  him  or  no.  The  inquiry  and  discussion  of  the 
ca.se  must  be  supposed  to  infer  great  approbation. 

6.  That  is  likely  to  infer  an  apprehension  of  son-»?what 
divine  in  it.  When  it  shall  be  seen,  that  men  are  strangely 
wrought  upon,  and  very  great  changes  made  upon  them  ; 
and  when  being  discoursed  with, and  the  things  unto  which 
their  spirits  tend  being  examined  and  searched  into,  they 
are  found  to  speak  words  of  truth  and  soberness,  and  not 
like  mad  and  distracted  men,  that  are  beside  themSelves ; 
(as  the  apostles  were  fain  to  apologize  once  and  again, 
when  so  strange  things  began  to  be  wrought  by  their  mi- 
nistry at  the  first,  in  Acts  ii.  15,  16,  and  chap.  xxvi.  25.) 
This  must  be  supposed  also  very  apt  and  likely  to  succeed, 
that  there  will  be  an  apprehension  in  the  case,  that  there 
is  something  divine  in  all  this  ;  some  misgiving  or  suspi- 
cion of  it;  "Sure  it  is  of  God,  that  there  is  this  change 
and  turn  upon  the  spirits  of  so  many  men !  Sure  there  is 
some  divine  hand  in  it !"  We  find,  that  there  were  such 
apprehensions  of  somewhat  di\'ine  in  the  matter,  when  so 
great  things  were  wrought  at  first  by  the  ministry  of  the 

41 


apostles.  The  most  maliciou.s  enemies  were  full  of  doubt, 
whereunto  this  would  grow,  Acts  v.  24.  And  one  of  their 
wisest  men  saith,  in  ver.  39.  "  If  it  (this  thing)  be  of 
God;" — that  z/ imports  a  suspicion,  some  doubt  and  af>- 
prehension  of  the  thing  as  not  improbable :  "  Perhaps  this 
is  of  God,  that  there  are  begun  such  alterations  in  many 
men  ;  that  those  who  lived  before  as  if  ihey  were  altoge- 
ther made  of  earth,  now  are  come  to  mind  nothing  but 
heaven  and  eternity,  and  tlie  concernment  of  another 
world.  It  is  very  likely,  that  there  is  a  divine  hand  in 
this  matter;  for  the  more  we  inquire  and  search,  the  less 
we  have  to  say  against  what  these  men  do ;  we  cannot  see 
but  it  is  highly  reasonable,  that  men  should  live,  as  they 
say  we  should,  in  more  .serious  observance  of,  and  devo- 
tedness and  love  to,  the  great  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth, 
and  the  Redeemer  of  sinners."     And, 

7.  Hereupon  succeeds  naturally  a  favourable  inclina- 
tion towards  religion,  in  those  who  have  hitherto  been 
strangers,  at  least,  to  the  power  and  life  of  it.  When  they 
see  it  sparkle  in  the  conversations  of  others;  when  they 
see  persons  that  were  become  like  other  men,  (for  that  is 
the  present  state  of  the  world,  and  it  is  too  much  to  be 
feared  that  it  will  grow  more  and  more  so,  that  those  who 
have  been  very  forward  professors  of  religion  fall  to  decay, 
and  their  profession  like  an  old  garment  grows  threadbare, 
and  is  worn  off  from  them  by  piece-meal,  and  they  cease 
to  be  what  they  were;  family  orders  are  thrown  off,  no 
worship,  no  calling  upon  God ;  they  let  themselves  be  in- 
gulfed of  the  world,  as  if  they  were  here  in  the  world  for 
nothing  else  than  to  drive  designs  for  a  few  days;  eternity 
and  everlasting  concernments  being  quite  forgot,)  when  it 
shall  be  said,  that  men,  whatever  they  were  before,  are 
awakening  out  of  this  drows}',  dead  sleep,  and  returning 
from  that  dreadful  apostacy  ;"  and  a  spirit  of  seriousness 
and  life  and  vigour  begins  to  show  itself;  and  religion  and 
holiness  (as  I  was  saying)  .shall  sparkle  in  the  lives  of 
them,  in  whose  conversation  there  was  hardly  the  least 
glimmering  of  it  appearing  before :  then  so  amiable  and 
lovely  a  thing,  as  well  as  highly  rea.sonable,  religion  is, 
that  it  will  draw  favourable  inclination;  especially  when 
that  apprehension  goes  alon?,  that  there  is  certainly  some 
divine  impression  upon  men's  minds,  that  makes  them  to 
bestir  themselves  and  to  alter  their  course  from  wha..  it 
was,  and  that  induces  so  many  to  do  thus  as  it  were  at 
once.  For  there  is  a  natural  reverence  of  what  is  appre- 
hended to  be  divine ;  this  naturally  draws  a  kind  of  vene- 
ration. It  wEis  indeed  strange,  how  the  world  could  be 
imposed  upon  to  believe  such  figments  and  fables  a.s  they 
did;  but  being  made  to  believe  them,  we  see  what  was 
the  natural  operation  of  that  veneration,  which  resides  in 
the  spirits  of  men,  of  things  apprehended  divine.  For  the 
image  that  dropped  down  from  Jupiter,  mentioned  in 
Acts  xix.  35.  it  is  strange,  how  the  people  could  be  made 
to  believe,  that  such  an  image  fell  down  out  of  heaven: 
but  being  made  to  believe  it,  nature  followed  its  own  course; 
that  is,  most  highlv  to  reverence  what  they  apprehended 
to  be  of  a  divine  descent,  and  what  came  from  above.  All 
the  citv,  all  that  city  of  Ephesus,  was  a  worshipper  of  the 
image  that  they  were  told  came  down  from  Jupiter.  A 
favourable  propension  there  will  be  towards  religion,  when 
once  men  come  generally  to  take  notice  of  it  as  a  divine 
thing;  of  divine" descent",  as  it  is  of  a  divine  tendency. 
And  so  it  was  in  that  first  great  work  of  this  kind,  which 
we  read  of  in  Acts  ii.  That  numerous  multitude  of  con- 
verts, three  thousand  at  one  sermon,  continued  in  break- 
ing of  bread  from  house  to  house,  and  did  eat  their  meat 
with  gladness  and  singleness  of  heart,  (ver.  46.)  praising 
God,  and  having  favour  with  all  the  people,  ver.  47.  Re- 
ligion, when  it  comes  to  be  itself  and  to  look  like  itself, 
will  very  much  attract  favour  from  all  that  behold  the 
genuine,  natural  workings  and  tendencies  of  it. 

8.  Hereupon  doth  unavoidably  ensue  a  general  reputa- 
tion to  serious  religion,  which  will  signify  a  great  deal  to 
this.  When  serious  religion  shall  by  these  liieansbe  brough'- 
into  credit,  then  the  work  will  drive  on  apace,  and  the 
chariot-wheels  move  easilv.  Let  us  but  bethink  ourselves, 
what  the  reputation  even  of  so  despicable  a  thing  as  wick- 
edness itself  doth  in  the  world ;  how  it  spreads,  \yhen 
common  practice  hath  once  given  it  a  reputation.  Things, 
that  at  other  times  persons  would  have  been  ashamed  of, 


582 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT  IN 


Serm.  VII. 


or  even  that  they  should  be  suspected  concerning  them,  | 
afterwards  they  come  to  glory  in:  and  when  once  the  re- 
straint  of  shame  is  gone  off  from  the  spirits  of  men,  it  is 
a  strange  liberty  they  find  to  do  wickedly  ;  now  they  can 
easily  go  from  one  wickedness  to  another,  from  bad  to  ! 
worse,  and  still  to  worse ;  for  the  restraint  is  gone,  that 
bound  up  their  spirits  before.  When  the  shame  then  of 
being  seriously  religious  shall  cease,  and  it  shall  become  a 
reputation  in  the  world  ;  think,  what  that  will  signify  in 
the  case  of  so  highly  reasonable  and  beautiful  a  thing,  as 
religion  in  itself  is.  Common  reputation  giv^es  a  patronage 
to  so  horrid,  so  ignominious  a  thing  as  wickedness  :  what 
will  not  so  lovely  and  praise- worthy  a  thing,  as  religion  is 
in  the  very  heart  and  conscience  of  men  that  allow  them- 
selves to  consider  it,  gain  of  reputation  and  by  it  in  such 
a  case ;  when  every  man  shall  be  the  more  esteemed  of, 
by  how  much  the  more  he  appears  a  sincerely  religious 
man ;  when  no  man  shall  be  afraid  to  avow  himself  a 
fearer  of  the  great  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth,  but  this  shall 
be  reckoned  in  every  one's  account  a  high  glory;  when 
every  one  shall  be  ready  to  give  suffrage  to  it,  and  to  say, 
it  is  reasonable  we  should  all  be  so  1  Then  may  we  sup- 
pose religion  to  be  riding  on  prosperously,  conquering  and 
to  conquer ;  then  may  we  expect  the  arrows  of  the  great 
Author  of  it  to  be  sharp  in  the  hearts  of  men,  the  way  of 
access  will  be  easy  into  the  inwards  of  men's  souls,  the 
great  truths  and  doctrines  of  religion  will  come  under  no 
prejudice,  men  will  not  be  shy  and  ashamed  to  entertain 
them,  or  afraid  what  the  tendency  of  entertaining  them 
will  be,  or  what  course  they  shall  be  thereby  engaged  in, 
that  may  possibly  prove  injurious  to  them  in  point  of  re- 
putation or  worldly  interest  one  way  or  another. 

These  things  being  all  taken  together,  it  seems  we  have 
a  pretty  apt  method,  and  a  representation  of  fair  and  easy 
steps,  in  which  we  may  suppose  such  a  work  to  be  carried 
on ;  when  once  there  is  that  great  effort  of  the  almighty 
power  of  the  Spirit,  to  cause  somewhat  general  rousings 
and  awakenings  in  the  spirits  of  men,  to  make  them  a 
little  bestir  themselves  and  look  about  them,  with  respect 
to  the  concernments  of  the  Maker  of  this  world,  and  their 
relation  and  tendency  to  another  world.  And  when  we 
see  how  such  a  thing  may  be  carried  on  from  step  to  step, 
the  apprehension  of  it  should  not  be  thrown  aside  as  very 
remote  and  alien,  and  as  if  it  were  altogether  unlikely  that 
any  such  thing  should  ever  be  done  in  the  world.  You 
know  that  great  inundations,  as  they  gradually  spread  in 
circuit,  so  they  increase  and  grow  more  copious  by  a  con- 
tinual accession  of  new  rivulets  and  springs  to  them, 
wherever  they  spread:  so  it  is  in  such  a  work  as  this  of 
the  Spirit  of  God.  That  Almighty  Spirit,  the  further  it 
goes,  the  more  it  engages  and  takes  in  the  concurrence  of 
the  spirits  of  men,  as  so  many  rivulets  into  the  great  and 
common  inundation.  For  the  expression  of  pouring  forth 
the  Spirit  seems  to  favour  that  metaphor,  and  to  look  to- 
ward.i  it ;  as  the  communications  of  the  Spirit  are  fre- 
quently in  Scripture  spoken  of  under  the  same  metaphor 
of  streams  of  water,  rivers  of  water.  So  it  is  also  in  a 
common  conflagration ;  (the  workings  of  the  Spirit  are 
represented  by  both  these  elements ;)  the  further  the  fire 
spreads,  still  the  more  matter  it  meets  with,  the  more  com- 
bustible matter ;  and  that  way  still  more  and  more  in- 
creases itself,  even  intensively,  according  as  it  spreads 
more  extensively:  because  it  still  meets  with  more  fuel  to 
feed  upon.  We  might  thus  render  this  business  very  easy 
and  familiar  to  our  own  thoughts,  by  considering  how 
such  a  communication  of  the  Spirit  once  begun  and  set 
on  loot  doth  spread  and  propagate  itself,  even  in  an  ordi- 
nary and  easy  way  and  method  further  and  further. 

I  shall  only  close  at  present  with  one  hint,  which  may 
point  out  to  us  one  thing  more,  as  a  way  to  make  this  ap- 
prehension most  familiar  to  us.  It  would  certainly  be  most 
clearly  apprehensible,  how  such  a  work  may  be  wrought,by 
getting  as  much  of  it  as  is  possible  exemplified  in  ourselves, 
upon  our  own  souls.  If  once  we  come  to  find  and  feel  the 
Spirit  of  the  living  God  seizing  our  spirits,  coming  with 
an  almighty  and  irresistible  power  upon  us;  if  we  can  but 
feel  the  fire  burn  within,  and  find  it  refining  us,  consuming 
our  dross,  melting  and  mollifying  us,  new  moulding  us, 
quickeiiing  and  enlarging  us ;  it"  will  be  very  easy  to  ap- 
*  Preached  June  19th,  1678. 


prehend  then,  how  such  a  work  may  be  carried  on  in  the 
world.  For  if  I  have  but  the  notion  of  a  unit  in  my  mind, 
I  can   soon  apprehend  a  bigger  number;  it  is  but  adding 
one  unit  to  that,  and  another  to  that, and  so  on,  till  I  come 
to  a  greater  number.     If  I  can  but  find  and  experience 
such  a  mighty  operation  of  that  blessed  Spirit  upon  my 
own  soul,  it  is  easy  then  to  conceive  thus  ;  if  it  be  so  with 
another,  and  another,  and  another,  religion  will  in  this 
way  become  a  very  lively  prosperous  thing  in  the  world. 
It  is  but  the  multiplying  of  instances,   and  the  thing  is 
done  :  and  he  that  can  do  so  by  me,  can  do  the  same  by 
another,  and  another,  and  so  onwards.  And  methinks  we 
should  not  rest  ourselves  satisfied,  till  we  find  somewhat, 
till  we  find  more  of  this  within  ourselves.    Oh  what  a  mi- 
serable thing  is  a  Christian,  when  he  is  dead  !     We  look 
with  a  great  deal  of  compassion  upon  the  death  of  any 
thing ;  but  the  case  claims  so  much  the  more,  by  how  much 
the  life  is  more  noble  that  is  extinct  or  seems  extinct ;  or 
when  the  life  once  supposed  to  have  been,  now  appears  as 
if  it  were  quite  extinct.     Is  the  expiration  of  this  natural 
life  a  thing  to  be  beheld  with  pity "?  what  is  it  to  lose,  or  to 
appear  at  least  deprived  of  the  life  of  a  child  of  God  1  to 
be  destitute  of  such  a  life,  which  I  have  at  least  pretended 
to,  and  carried  some  appearance  and  semblance  ofl    The 
death  of  a  peasant  is  a  considerable  thing,  and  it  were 
barbarous  not  to  take  notice  of  it  with  a  resentment;  but 
when  it  comes  to  be  talked,  A  great  man  is  dead,  a  noble- 
man, a  prince;  this  makes  a  great  noise  and  ring  in  the 
world ;  and  such  a  person  having  been  of  any  use  and 
account  in  his  age,  his  exit  is  not  without  a  great  lamen- 
tation.    If  I  had  but  a  finger  dead,  it  would  be  an  afflic- 
tion; but  if  I  look  into  myself,  lo,  there  I  behold  the  death 
of  a  soul,  a  reasonable,  intelligent    pirit;  that  ought  to 
live  the  life  of  God,  devoted  to  God,  in  commerce  with 
God  ;  I  look  into  it,  and  it  is  dead.  Oh  !  how  intolerable  a 
thing  should  this  be  to  me !  till  I  find  some  revivings,  some 
stirrings,  some  indications  of  life ;  that  is,  till  I  find  reli- 
gion live ;  that  I  have  somewhat  more  than  an  empty, 
naked,  spiritless  form  of  religion  ;  that  I  can  now  go  and 
pray,  and  have  life  in  my  prayer ;  go  and  hear  the  word, 
and  find  life  in  my  hearing.     Of  all  deaths  there  is  none 
so  dreadful  and  so  to  be  lamented,  as  that  of  religion,  and 
certainly  most  of  all  in  ourselves;  that  my  religion  is  a 
dead  thing.  How  impatient  should  I  be  to  find  it  revived  ! 
And  if  I  will  but  be  restless  in  this,  and  make  it  my  daily 
business  importunately  to  supplicate  the  Father  of  spirits, 
"  Take  pity  of  thine  own  offspring,  let  me  not  lie  lan- 
guishing siill  in  death;"  and  I  at  last  obtain  a  merciful 
audience,  (as  it  is  plainly  said,  that  the  heart  shall  live  that 
seeks  God,)  then  I  have  such  an  exemplification  in  my 
own  soul  of  the  matter  we  have  been   discoursing  of,  as 
that  I  can  easily  represent  to  myself;  "When  such  a  work 
is  done  in  others  as  is  done  in  my  own  soul,  and  comes  to 
be  made  common  amongst  others ;  then  will  religion  be  a 
very  lively,  prosperous,  flourishing  thing  in  the  world." 
And  that  certainly  is  the  best  way  of  all  others  to  make 
this  thing  apprehensible  to  ourselves,  to  get  the  thoughts 
of  it  familiarized  to  us,  in  how  easy  a  way  religion  should 
grow  and  spread  among  men. 


SERMON  VII.* 

It  was  thought  requisite  to  lay  before  you  some  con.si- 
derations,  that  might  facilitate  the  apprehension  and  belief 
of  the  revival  and  prosperous  state  of  religion  in  the  worlc. 
Three  were  mentioned  to  that  purpose. 

I.  The  consideration  of  what  hath  been  done  in  this 
kind  heretofore,  when  the  Spirit  was  so  eminently  poured 
forth  at  first. 

II.  The  consideration,  by  how  easy  steps  and  in  how 
apt  a  method  it  is  supposable,  that  such  a  work  may  be 
done.     These  have  been  spoken  of. 

If  once  it  please  God  to  say,  he  will  do  such  and  such 
things,  we  need  not  to  be  told  how.  "  Is  any  thing  too 
hard  for  me  1"  saith  the  Lord.    That  should  be  enough 


Serm.  VII. 


REFERENCE  TO  THE  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH. 


583 


for  us;  but  we  find,  that  commonly  it  is  not  enough; 
experience  doth  loo  commonly  show  that.  And  therefore 
the  supposition  of  such  a  gradual  progress  a.s  hath  been 
mentil)ned,  doth  most  facilitate  the  apprehension  of  such 
a  thing ;  though  we  do  not  imply  or  suppose  in  all  this, 
that  any  thing  the  less  power  is  exerted ;  but  only  that  it 
is  put  forth  in  a  way  more  familiar  to  our  thoughts.  As 
in  the  creation  of  the  world  there  was  an  exertion  even  of 
absolute  power,  the  Almightiness  (as  I  may  speak)  of 
power;  but  that  absolute  power  soon  became  ordinate; 
and  that  order  and  chain  of  causes,  and  the  method  of  their 
operations  and  peculiar  virtues,  which  Ave  are  wont  to  call 
by  the  name  of  nature,  universal  and  particular  nature, 
soon  came  to  be  fixed  and  settled  ;  according  whereto  God 
hath  since  continued  the  world,  and  propagated  the  indi- 
viduals of  everj'  sort  and  kind  of  creatures,  or  propagated 
the  kind  in  those  individuals.  This  is  not  to  suppose  more 
and  less  power,  but  is  only  a  various  exertion  ijf  the  same 
power.  But  when  power  is  exerted  in  this  latter  way,  it 
is  more  apprehensible  by  us,  how  it  goes  forth  to  do  such 
and  such  things.  It  is  said  in  Heb.  xi.  3.  Through  faith 
we  understand,  that  the  worlds  were  framed  by  the  woid 
of  God.  By  faith  ;  how  is  thai  1  Why,  faith  is  said,  in  the 
clause  a  little  before,  to  be  the  "  evidence  of  things  not 
seen."  We  were  none  of  us  at  the  making  of  the  world, 
we  saw  not  how  things  were  done  then;  but  we  have  the 
matter  imparted  to  us  by  God  himself,  we  have  a  divine 
testimony  in  the  case ;  the  history  committed  into  sacred 
records;  by  which  we  are  informed,  not  only  that  the 
world  was  made,  but  how  it  was  made,  by  what  steps  and 
by  how  gradual  a  progression  the  great  God  went  on  in 
the  doing  of  that  stupendous  work.  And  hereupon  it  is 
said,  "by  faith  we  understand,"  XliVrfi  voeiACp;  that  is,  as 
that  word  signifies,  hy  faith  we  come  to  have  the  formed, 
explicit  notion  in  our  minds,  to  have  distinct  thoughts 
and  apprehensions  how  such  a  work  was  done.  Thus  we 
learn,  how  much  was  done  such  a  day,  and  how  much 
such  a  day ;  light  created  the  first  day;  the  second,  the 
firmament;  the  third,  the  earth,  dry  land,  and  the  seas  or 
the  gathering  together  of  the  waters  into  one  place  ;  and 
then  herbs  and  trees  and  beasts,  &c.  according  to  their 
several  kinds;  and  so  on.  Now  this  begets  a  clearer  and 
more  distinct  apprehension  in  our  minds  of  the  way  of 
making  the  world,  than  if  it  had  been  only  said,  that  the 
world  was  at  first  made  by  God.  We  understand  it  by 
faith,  have  a  notion  begot  in  our  minds  clear  and  distinct 
by  faith ;  inasmuch  as  or  so  far  as  the  testimony  is  distinct 
and  clear,  which  we  have  concerning  this  matter.  Though 
it  is  true,  reason  would  go  far  to  demonstrate,  that  this 
world  had  a  beginning;  yet  reasoning  could  never  have 
helped  us  to  voeii',  distinctly  to  understand,  in  what  steps 
or  in  how  easy  and  fit  a  method  that  great  work  was  car- 
ried on.  So  now  in  making  the  world  anew,  erecting  the 
new  heavens  and  the  new  earth  wherein  dwelleth  righte- 
ousness, wherein  it  shall  dwell ;  we  certainly  can  more 
distinctly  apprehend  how  that  work  is  done,  if  it  be  repre- 
sented as  done  by  such  a  kind  of  gradation  as  you  have 
heard  of,  than  if  we  were  put  to  it  to  conceive  it  done  all 
at  once.  There  is  no  less  power  required  to  the  continuing 
of  this  world  els  it  is,  than  was  to  the  making  of  it  what  it 
is;  for  it  is  the  continual  exertion  of  the  same  power  that 
doth  it.  But  our  thoughts  are  not  so  liable  to  be  amused, 
(they  are  not  at  all  amused,)  to  see  a  continual  succession 
of  things  in  the  natural  way  of  production.  It  gives  us  no 
difliculty  or  trouble  to  see  how  children  are  born,  how  the 
kinds  of  other  creatures  are  propagated ;  whereas  it  would 
greatly  amuse  us,  to  think  of  men  and  beasts  and  trees  and 
herbs  all  starting  up  of  a  sudden  out  of  nothing.  Though 
we  cannot,  upon  a  reasonable  consideration  of  the  case, 
but  acknowledge,  that  it  were  as  easy  a  thing  for  God  to 
have  created  man,  as  he  did  Adam,  hy  an  immediate  hand, 
as  it  is  to  continue  the  race  of  mankind  in  that  way  wherein 
he  doth  it;  the  operation  would  not  be  harder  to  him; 
yet  it  was,  it  seems,  in  the  judgment  of  his  infinite  wisdom, 
less  apt;  and  it  would  be  harder  and  more  unapprehen- 
sible  unto  us.  So,  we  must  acknowledge  too,  that  it  were 
no  harder  a  thing  for  God,  "of  stones  to  raise  up  children 
unto  Abraham,"  to  make  Christians,  proselytes  to  religion 

a  Plutarchi  Parallel,  inter.  Op.  Moral.  Edit.  H.  Steph.  (Gnpc.)  Vol.  I.  p.  530.- 


that  way,  than  to  convert  men  by  the  Gospel ;  but  this, 
which  he  hath  chosen  to  be  his  ordinary  way,  we  have 
reason  and  oJjligation  to  account  the  fittest  way;  and  it  is 
a  way  more  familiar  and  easily  conceivable  to  our  thoughts. 
And  therefore  it  doth  much  towards  the  facilitating  the 
apprehension  and  belief  of  this  great  change,  to  consider, 
by  how  easy  steps  and  in  how  apt  a  method  such  a  work 
as  this  may  be  done.  And  this  will  be  very  considerable 
unto  such  persons  that  take  notice,  (which  any  ob.serving 
man  would,)  how  little  apt  the  wise  and  holy  God  is  to  step 
out  of  his  usual  course,  further  than  the  plain  necessity  of 
the  case,  in  reference  to  such  or  such  greax  ends  of  his, 
doth  require.     But  then  add  we  hereto, 

III.  The  consideration,  how  highly  suitable  it  is  to  the 
blessed  God  to  do  this  work.  Doth  it  not  look  like  a  God- 
like work  1  doth  it  not  carry  the  aspect  of  a  God-like  under- 
taking and  performance,  a  thing  worthy  of  God,  to  restore 
religion  and  improve  it  much  further  in  the  world  1  We 
shall  show,  in  what  paiticular  respects  it  is  .suitable  to  him. 

1.  It  is  very  suitable  to  his  most  mysterious  wisdom  :  the 
glory  whereof  it  is  to  do  things,  that  none  could  contrive 
to  do  besides ;  and  especially  to  rescue  and  recover  what 
seemed  lost  and  hopeless,  when  the  sentence  of  death  was 
as  it  were  actually  thereupon,  that  is,  religion.  This  is 
the  attribute  of  Divine  wisdom,  to  recover  things  out  of  so 
dreadful  a  degeneracy ;  to  retrieve  matters,  when  the  case 
was  so  desperate  unto  all  men's  apprehensions.  It  is  the 
choice  of  Divine  wisdom  to  do  .so,  to  find  an  expedient 
even  in  the  last  necessity:  according  to  that  monumental 
name,  which  Abraham  put  upon  the  mount,  where  he 
was  to  have  sacrificed  his  Son,  Jehovah-jireh ;  The  Lord 
will  see,  or.  The  Lord  will  provide  and  take  care:  an  in- 
stance thought  fit  to  be  upon  record  unto  all  succeeding 
time,  as  a  discovery  what  the  choice  of  the  Divine  wisdom 
is ;  that  is,  to  take  things  even  when  they  are  desperate,  and 
to  find  out  an  expedient  to  salve  all.  An  instance  like  to 
that  I  remember  Plutarch*  takes  notice  of,  that  one  Aletella 
in  a  certain  great  exigence  was  to  have  been  sacrificed,  but 
was  prevented  bj'^  the  miraculous  substitution  of  a  heifer  in 
the  room  of  the  intended  victim:  so  possiblj' pagans  might 
have  fabulously  imitated  what  some  way  or  other  they 
came  to  have  heard  from  the  sacred  records.  But  so  the 
case  seems  to  be  with  religion,  when  God  shall  so  wonder- 
fully retrieve  it,  as  it  was  with  the  heir  of  the  promise,  the 
knife  just  at  the  very  throat.  There  was  a  contrivance 
suitable  to  the  wisdom  of  God,  to  hit  upon  this  critical 
juncture  of  time,  to  rescue  him  from  so  near  a  death,  when 
he  seemed  even  upon  expiring.  And  as  he  wa.s  fetched 
from  death  even  in  a  figure ;  (his  father  received  him  from 
thence  in  a  figure,  Heb.  xi.  19.)  so  it  must  be  with  religion 
too.  The  son  of  the  free-woman,  Isaac,  was  the  emblem 
of  it:  it  is  as  it  were  in  a  like  figure  to  be  fetched  from 
death,  by  a  kind  of  resurrection  from  the  dead;  life  from 
the  dead,  as  the  apostle  speaks;  when  the  time  shall  be 
of  bringing  in  the  fulness  of  the  Gentiles,  and  the  saving 
of  all  Israel.  How  glorious  the  display  of  Di^nne  wisdom, 
to  let  so  gross  darkness  cover  the  world,  so  black  ami 
gloomy  a  day  be  upon  it,  that  shall  issue  at  last  in  so  much 
brightness  and  so  glorious  light !  even  in  the  evening,  as 
it  is  in  Zech.  xiv.  7.  wherein  the  Lord  shall  be  king  over 
all  the  earth;  and  there  shall  be  one  Lord  and  his  name 
one,  ver.  9.  Then  comes  that  bright  and  glorious  evening 
after  a  black  and  gloomy  day :  not  perfect  darkness ;  there 
is  not  such  in  the  spiritual  world,  when  things  are  at  the 
worst ;  as  they  use  to  say  there  is  not  in  the  natural  world, 
7ion  dantur  puree  tenebra::  so  it  is  there  said,  that  the  light 
shall  not  be  clear  nor  dark,  ver.  6.  It  shall  be  as  if  it 
were  neither  day  nor  night,  ver.  7.  In  that  day,  (and  it 
shall  be  one  day  known  to  the  Lord,  neither  day  nor  night,) 
at  evening-time  it  shall  be  light.  You  know  how  great  a 
change  the  diurnal  return  of  the  sun  makes;  and  were  it 
not  that  the  thing  is  usual,  and  we  are  accustomed  to  it, 
that  would  be  thought  a  strange  matter.  .How  vast  is  the 
change,  that,  when  darkness  is  upon  the  spacious  hemi- 
sphere, all  of  a  sudden  the  return  of  the  sun  should  clothe 
all  with  so  much  light  and  lustre  and  glory,  as  we  see  it 
doth  !  Such  vici.ssiuides  the  wisdom  of  God  hath  thought 
fit :  but  especially  it  hath  been  reckoned  more  suitable  to 


S84 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT  IN 


Serm.  Vll 


his  ■wisdom,  to  carry  things  on  from  obscurer  and  less  con- 
siderable beginnings  unto  perfect  and  more  glorious  issues, 
so  that  in  the  evening  it  shall  be  light:  all  the  foregoing 
day  did  look  more  like  night  than  day.  That  we  reckon 
a  great  work  of  wisdom,  to  be  able  to  find  out  a  way  of 
doing  the  most  unexpected  things,  that  no  one  would  have 
thought  of,  further  than  as  it  may  please  him  to  give  any 
previous  intimations  of  his  purpose,  what  he  will  do. 

2.  It  is  most  suitable  to  that  supreme  interest  which  he 
hath  in  this  lower  world,  that  propriety  and  dominion 
which  he  claims  in  it  to  himself  by  a  most  rightful  claim  ; 
to  procure  himself  a  more  universal  actual  acknowledg- 
ment and  subjection,  than  hitherto:  whether  we  speak  of 
his  natural  interest,  as  he  is  the  God  and  the  Creator  of  the 
world;  (this  lower  part,  this  inferior  region  is  a  part  of 
his  creation  too;)  or  of  his  acquired  interest  by  tlie  Re- 
deemer ;  and  I  more  especially  intend  the  latter.  When 
I  consider  the  magnificent  things,  that  the  Scripture  speaks 
concerning  the  interest  of  the  Redeemer  in  this  world,  this 
lapsed  apostate  world ;  (such  as  this.  Matt,  xxviii.  18,  19. 
All  power  is  given  unto  me  in  heaven  and  in  earth:  Go 
ye  therefore,  and  teach  all  nations  ;  make  men  know,  that 
they  belong  to  me  and  are  all  my  right ;  lay  my  claim  to 
them,  proclaim  my  right,  challenge  my  interest  for  me, 
proselyte  them  to  me ;  baptize  them  into  my  name,  with 
the  Father's  and  the  Holy  Ghost's;)  this  doth  import,  as 
if  some  time  or  other  he  meant  to  have  a  more  actual  ac- 
knowledgment and  subjection  in  this  world,  than  hitherto. 
If  we  look  upon  such  a  text  as  that,  He  died,  and  revived, 
and  rose  again,  that  he  might  be  Lord  both  of  the  living 
and  the  dead,  Rom.  xiv.  9.  The  living  and  the  dead 
comprehend  all  that  we  can  think  of;  and  it  signifies  as 
much  as,  that  he  might  be  the  universal  Lord  of  all. 
Having  paid  so  dear  a  price,  do  we  not  think,  that  he  will 
make  more  of  the  purchase,  than  hitherto  he  hath  1  as  you 
have  it  pursued  in  that  11th  to  the  Romans  in  several  ex- 
pressions, ver.  7,  9.  None  of  us  liveth  to  himself,  and  no 
man  dieth  to  himself — For  to  this  end  Christ  both  died, 
and  rose,  and  revived,  that  he  might  be  Lord  both  of  the 
dead  and  living.  That  invitation  to  all  the  ends  of  the 
earth  is  of  as  strong  import  this  way,  Isa.  xlv.  22.  Look  unto 
me  and  be  ye  saved,  all  the  ends  of  the  earth.  Observe 
the  solemnity  and  majesty  of  the  following  words,  ver.  23. 
I  have  sworn  by  m3'self,  the  word  is  gone  out  of  my 
mouth  in  righteousness,  and  shall  not  return,  that  unto  me 
every  knee  shall  bow,  every  tongue  shall  swear.  Which 
saying  is  expressly  applied  to  the  Lord  Christ  by  the 
apostle  in  Phil.  ii.  11.  Consider  to  the  same  purpose  the 
solemnity  of  his  inauguration,  and  the  largeness  of  the 
grant  made  to  him  thereupon,  Ps.  ii.  6,  7.  I  have  set  my 
King  upon  my  holy  hill  of  Zion  :  I  will  declare  the  de- 
cree;— Thou  art  my  Son,  this  day  have  I  begotten  thee. 
This  day,  that  is,  the  resurrection-day;  that  is  the  emi- 
nently intended  sense,  as  the  apostle's  quoting  of  it  in  Acts 
xiii.  33.  plainly  signifies.  This  day  have  I  begotten  thee ; 
thou  art  now  to  me  the  first-born  of  the  dead,  the  first- 
begotten  of  them  that  slept:  and  being  my  first-born,  art  a 
great  heir;  and  this  is  thy  inheritance: — I  will  give  thee 
the  heathen  for  thine  inheritance,  and  the  uttermost  parts 
of  the  earth  for  thy  possession,  ver.  8.  Sure  that  signifies 
more  than  mere  right  and  title.  And  think  how  pursuantly 
to  that  it  is  foretold.  Rev.  xi.  15.  that,  upon  the  sounding  of 
the  seventh  trumpet,  the  voice  should  be,  the  proclamation 
should  go  forth,  "  The  kingdoms  of  this  world  are  become 
the  kingdoms  of  our  Lord  and  of  his  Christ."  They  are 
become  so;  that  must  needs  be  in  some  other  way  than 
they  could  be  understood  to  be  so  before ;  they  were  always 
in  right  and  title.  It  is  very  suitable  to  that  supreme  and 
sovereign  interest  that  he  hath,  at  one  lime  or  another,  to 
assert  his  right;  especially  considering  it  as  a  disputed 
right :  for  how  long  hath  this  interest  been  contested  about 
by  the  usurping  god  of  this  world,  the  prince  of  the  dark- 
ness of  this  world  !  he  who  hath  tyrannized  in  the  dark, 
and  made  it  so  much  his  business  to  keep  all  men  from 
knowing  any  other  lord ! 

3.  It  is  most  suitable  unto  the  immense  almighty  power, 
by  which  he  is  able  to  subdue  all  things  to  himself.  It  will 
be  upon  that  account  a  God-like  M'ork,  worthy  of  such 
an  agent.  To  make  all  mountains  vanish  before  Zeriib- 
babel,  Zech.  iv.  7.  to  bring  about  what  seemed  so  very 


difficult,  and  even  unexpected  to  all  men ;  this  is  a  thing 
becoming  God,  to  do  what  no  one  else  could  do.  It  is  the 
acknowledgment  therefore  that  is  given  him  as  God,  a 
glorifying  him  as  God,  which  we  find  done  by  Jehoshaph'at, 
2  Chron.  xx.  12.  We  know  not  what  to  do;  but  our  eyes 
are  upon  thee.  That  is  as  much  as  to  confess,  that  when 
all  created  power  is  at  a  nonplus  and  can  do  no  more,  (we 
can  do  no  more,)  yet  thou  hast  still  somewhat  to  do,  when 
there  is  nothing  remaining  to  be  done  by  any  hand  else. 
And  it  is  very  subsidiary  in  this  case,  and  helpful  to  our 
apprehension  and  faith,  to  consider  the  immensity  and 
omniscience  of  that  Spirit,  whereby  this  great  work  is  to 
be  done;  to  think  that  that  Spirit  is  already  every  where; 
as  in  Psalm  cxxxix.  7.  Whither  shall  I  go  from  thy  Spirit  1 
and  whither  shall  I  flee  from  thy  presence"?  Whether  I 
think  of  heaven  or  earth,  or  of  any  the  remotest  parts  be- 
yond the  seas,  there  thy  Spirit  is.  He  doth  not  need  to  go 
far  in  order  to  the  doing  of  these  great  things ;  but  only  to 
exert  a  present  influence,  where  he  is  already,  having  all 
things  subsisting  in  him,  living,  moving,  and  having  their 
being  in  him.  And  when  we  consider,  how  great  the  eifi- 
cacy  is  of  that  great  apo.state,  impure  spirit,  that  in  Scrip- 
ture uses  to  go  under  the  name  of  Satan  or  the  devil,  to 
keep  the  world  in  darkness  and  ignorance,  to  hold  them 
off"  from  God ;  (the  course  of  the  world  is  said  to  be  after 
the  power  of  the  prince  of  the  air,  the  spirit  that  worketh 
in  the  hearts  of  the  children  of  disobedience,  Eph.  ii.  2.) 
when  we  think,  that  his  influence  should  be  so  diffused  and 
extensive,  as  that  it  is  thought  fit  to  be  said,  that  the  whole 
world  lies  h  rw  mviipto,  which  is  capable  of  being  read,  in 
the  evil  one,  in  the  Vificked  one,  (1  John  v.  19.)  how  should 
faith  triumph  in  the  apprehension  of  the  absolute  immen- 
sity and  omnipresence  of  the  blessed  Spirit,  by  which  this 
great  work  is  to  be  wrought  and  done  in  the  world  !  when, 
as  we  know,  Satan  cannot  be  every  where,  he  makes  use  of 
many  hands,  many  instruments :  but  this  Spirit,  that  works 
all  in  all  immediately  itself,  how  agreeable  is  it  to  be  the 
author  of  such  a  work  as  this,  the  reviving  of  religion  out  of 
that  dismal  death  that  is  so  generally  upon  it  in  the  world! 

4.  We  cannot  but  apprehend  it  most  suitable  to  the 
Divine  goodness,  that  boundless,  flowing  goodness ;  that, 
after  the  prince  of  darkness,  the  Apollyon,  the  destroyer  of 
souls,  hath  been  leading  still  his  multitudes  down  to  perdi- 
tion from  age  to  age,  with  so  little  check  or  restraint,  a  time 
should  come,  when  in  so  visible  a  way  the  spoil  should  be 
rescued  out  of  the  hand  of  the  terrible  and  the  strong;  and 
the  Son  of  God  come  in  for  his  portion  and  share,  that  it 
was  said  should  be  divided  to  him,  Isa.  liii.  12.  How  like 
will  such  a  dispensation  as  thLs  be  unto  that  first  joyful 
sound  of  the  Gospel  by  the  ministry  of  angels,  "Glory  to 
God  in  the  highest,  peace  on  earth,  and  good-will  toward 
men  !"  How  agreeable  to  this  will  that  be  which  we  find 
in  Rev.  xxi.  3.  When  that  voice  shall  be  heard,  concerning 
a  thing  then  actually  done  and  taking  place,  "Behold,  the 
tabernacle  of  God  is  with  men,  and  he  will  dwell  with 
them  ;  and  they  shall  be  his  people,  and  God  himself  shall 
be  with  them,  and  be  their  God :  and  all  tears  shall  be 
wiped  away ;"  as  it  follows,  ver.  4.  Certainly  it  is  vei  y  God- 
like upon  this  account,  that  such  a  thing  should  be.  To 
reflect  upon  such  passages  of  Scripture ;  "  God  so  loved  the 
world,  that  he  gave  his  only-begotten  Son,"  &c.  "After 
that  the  kindness  and  love  of  God  to  man  appeared,"  that 
'Pi\ai>dpMTTia,  and  the  large  goodness  which  such  expressions 
signify,  methinks  should  prevent  its  being  thought  strange, 
that  more  large  correspondent  effects  of  such  goodness  are 
expected,  before  the  end  of  all  things  shall  come. 

I  must  add  here  by  way  of  caution,  that  it  is  true,  it  is 
not  safe  to  conclude  from  what  we  conceive  suitable  to 
God  to  do,  that  such  a  thing  shall  certainly  be  done;  a 
stress  were  not  to  be  laid  upon  that  kind  of  arguing,  if  we 
would  suppose  that  argument  to  be  the  original  and  prin- 
ciple. But  having  other  grounds  to  rely  upon,  which  you 
have  heard,  it  is  very  aptly  subsidiary;  and  signifies  very 
considerably  as  an  addition  to  have  the  apprehension  ot 
such  a  work  as  every  way  most  suitable  to  God  and  wor 
thy  of  him.  And  when  we  find  upon  other  grounds,  that 
is,  from  what  God  hath  expressly  said  and  foretold,  that 
we  have  cause  to  receive  and  entertain  such  a  truth;  we 
have  reason  to  entertain  it  with  a  great  deal  more  compla- 
cency, and  to  solace  and  satisfy  ourselves  in  it  the  more, 


Sehm,  VII. 


REFERENCE  TO  THE  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH. 


585 


by  how  much  the  more  we  apprehend  of  suitableness  and 
congTuity,  and  the  fitness  in  it,  and  how  every  way  it  be- 
comes that  great  God  that  is  to  be  the  Auihor  of  this  blessed 
work.  We  may  venture  after  him  to  speak  of  what  is 
suitable;  that  is,  when  he  hath  told  us  what  he  will  do, 
or  when  we  have  seen  what  he  doth,  then  it  is  fit  for  us  to 
say  this  was  very  worthy  of  God,  fit  for  him  to  do ;  or  it 
will  be  so  whenever  he  shall  please  to  do  it,  if  it  be  what 
we  are  yet  expecting  him  from  his  word  to  do. 

But  if  it  be  objected  here  ;  If  in  these  several  respects  it 
be  a  thing  suitable  to  God  to  do  such  a  work  as  this,  why 
was  it  not  done  long  ago  1  inasmuch  as  this  was  as  good  a 
reason  at  any  other  time,  as  it  can  be  in  any  time  yet  lo  come ; 
since  God's  wisdom,  his  sovereign  dominion,  his  power  and 
might,  his  grace  and  goodness,  were  always  the  same  1 

To  that  I  shall  shortly  say, 

1.  That  if  it  be  a  thing  very  suitable  to  God  to  do,  as 
we  have  represented,  certainly  it  seems  a  great  deal  more 
likely,  and  a  far  more  probable  way  of  reasoning,  from  its 
not  being  done,  to  expect  that  at  some  time  or  other  it 
shall,  than  that  it  never  shall.  But  we  have  told  you  we 
rely  upon  other  grounds,  and  take  in  that  consideration 
only  as  subsidiary  and  adjumental,  to  facilitate  our  appre- 
hension and  belief  of  what  God  hath  foretold  in  his  word. 
But  I  add, 

2.  That  there  are  but  these  two  things,  that  we  can  hav^e 
to  consider  in  this  matter,  and  to  give  an  account  of ;  the 
delaying  of  such  a  word  so  long,  and  the  doing  it  at  last ; 
and  I  doubt  not  but  a  very  unexceptionable  account  may 
be  given  of  both. 

1st,  For  the  delaying  of  it  so  long.  Truly  we  have  rea- 
son enough  lo  resolve  that  into  that  justice,  against  which 
no  one  that  ever  considers  can  open  his  mouth  in  this 
case.  Is  it  to  be  thought  strange,  that  God  should  so 
long  withhold  his  light  and  influence  from  a  world  in  so 
wilful  an  apostacy  and  degeneracy  and  rebellion  through 
so  many  ages ;  that  had  always  taken  care  to  propagate 
the  enmity,  and  to  keep  on  foot  the  rebellion,  so  as  that 
always,  when  he  comes  to  look  down  upon  the  world,  this 
is  the  prospect  that  he  hath  of  it,  this  the  account  of  things  ; 
looking  down  from  heaven  upon  the  children  of  men,  he 
seeth,  that  there  is  none  that  doeth  good,  none  that  under- 
stand and  seek  God,  Psal.  liii.  1,  2.  Men  affect  distance 
from  him,  they  please  themselves  to  be  without  him  in  the 
world.  Is  it  to  be  thought  strange  ?  is  it  not  highly  just, 
that  he  should  make  that  their  long  continued  doom,  which 
had  been  their  horrid  choice  ?  You  affect  to  be  without 
God!  Be  so,  in  your  own  loved  darkness  and  death! 
Men  might  see,  that  things  are  not  well  with  them,  that 
they  are  in  an  unhappy  state;  it  is  visible.  Ira  Dei  est 
vita  mortalis,  is  an  ancient  saying,  (his  morto.l  life  is  the 
very  -wrath  of  God.  Men  might  apprehend,  that  God  is 
angry,  that  they  are  not  such  creatures  as  man  was  made 
at  first ;  heathens  have  apprehended  and  spoken  of  the 
apostacy.  But  when  they  are  miserable,  and  feel  them- 
selves so,  yet  they  don't  return  to  him  and  seek  after  him : 
they  cannot  help  themselves,  to  mend  the  temper  of  their 
own  spirits,  which  they  might  easily  discern  is  far  out  of 
course  ;  yet  they  don't  cry  for  help.  It  is  highly  glorious 
triumphant  justice,  to  withhold  so  despised  and  neglected 
a  presence  and  influence  from  so  vile  and  wicked  a  gene- 
ration.    But  then, 

2dly,  For  doing  such  a  thing  at  last  notwithstanding, 
good  account  may  be  given  also.  Inasmuch  as  this  cannot 
be  said  to  be  a  thing  to  which  justice  most  strictl}'  and  in- 
dispensably and  perpetually  obliges,  but  a  thing  which  it 
doth  highly  approve  ;  wisdom  and  sovereignty  may  most 
fitly  interpose  at  pleasure,  and  when  it  shall  be  thought  fit. 
God  may  let  his  action  against  the  world  fall  when  he  will, 
though  he  have  a  most  righteous  one ;  and,  as  the  apostle 
speaks,  Rom.  xi.  22.  concerning  this  case,  the  restitution 
of  the  Jews,  which  shall  be  unto  the  Gentiles  also  life  from 
the  dead,  when  all  shall  be  gathered  in  at  once;  we  are 
to  expect  instances,  in  the  mixed  course  of  God's  dispen- 
sation, both  of  his  severity  and  goodness;  and  finally, 
when  that  time  comes,  when  all  Israel  shall  be  saved,  and 
the  fulness  of  the  Gentiles  be  brought  in,  the  matter  is  to 
be  resolved  into  such  an  exclamation,  as  that  which  the 
apostle  makes,  (ver.  33.)  "  Oh  the  depth  of  the  riches  both 

•  Preached  June  86tli,  1678. 


of  the  wisdom  and  knowledge  of  (Sod !"  It  is  to  be  refer- 
red unto  his  wisdom  and  sovereignty,  to  time  things  as 
seems  good  to  him.  The  times  and  seasons  are  hid  m  his 
own  power.  Acts  i.  7.  Hidden  from  us,  but  in  his  power 
to  stale  and  settle  amd  determine  when  and  a.s  he  plea.'^es. 
What  is  more  agreeable  unto  so  absolute  a  sovereign,  and 
so  wise  a  one,  than  such  an  arbitrary  timing  of  the  dispen- 
sation of  grace,  whenever  it  shall  have  its  course  1 

And  for  our  own  jiart;  as  we  have  that  reason  to  .'•dore 
sovereign  wisdom  and  goodness,  whenever  tliey  shall  have 
their  exercise  in  this  kind ;  so  in  the  mean  time  we  have 
reason  to  be  silent,  and  our  mouths  to  be  stopped,  while 
God  doth  as  yet  defer  and  delay  the  time  of  that  pouring 
forth  of  his  Spirit.  We  have  reason  to  be  silent,  if  it  be 
our  lot  in  our  age  to  be  under  the  restraints  of  that  blessed 
Spirit.  When  was  there  ever  any  age  in  the  world,  that 
might  more  fitly  be  pitched  upon  for  the  object,  upon 
which  justice  should  have  its  exercise  in  this  kind  ?  Was 
there  ever  an  age,  wherein  the  Spirit  was  more  grieved, 
more  striven  against!  wherein  God  should  have  more  cause 
and  reason  to  say.  My  Spirit  shall  not  strive  with  you  1 
with  whomsoever  of  all  mortals  it  strives,  it  shall  not  strive 
with  you !  To  cast  our  eyes  abroad,  and  consider  the  state 
of  the  world  ;  and  to  look  on  the  state  of  things  at  home  : 
— fm-  the  nations  about  us,  we  have  heard  how  they  have 
been  for  years  together ;  what  reformations  do  we  hear  of  1 
what  dispositions  to  return  to  Godi  Men  cry  because  of 
the  oppressions  of  the  mighty;  but  none  say,  "Where  is 
God  our  Maker  1"  Every  where  there  is  that  disposition 
to  groan  and  languish  and  die  under  their  pressure ;  but  no 
inquiries  after  God;  and  whereas  they  cannot  turn  to  him 
without  him,  (and  we  acknowledge  that  for  a  principle,) 
help  in  order  thereto  is  not  implored.  We  can  feel  what 
is  externally  aflliclive;  the  Divine  absence  we  feel  not: 
when  his  soul  is  departed  from  us,  we  are  not  concerned 
to  be  without  the  Spirit ;  as  Jer.  vi.  8.  Lest  my  soul  de- 
part from  thee.  He  speaks  of  that  presence  of  his  as  a 
soul  to  that  people  ;  as  it  truly  and  really  is  to  a  people 
professing  the  name  of  God :  his  special  presence  is  the 
soul  of  such  a  people,  as  they  are  such  a  people;  holds 
things  together,  keeps  up  and  maintains  life  and  order.  Be 
instructed,  lest  my  soul  be  gone.  When  his  presence  and 
Spirit  retire  and  are  withdrawn,  it  is  as  discernible  in  the 
stale  of  things  among  a  people,  as  a  man  can  distinguish 
a  carcass  from  a  living  man.  God  is  gone,  his  soul  is  de- 
parted, the  soul  which  he  had  put  into  such  a  people, 
which  was  active  and  at  work  amongst  them.  Well !  but 
we  are  loen  still  for  all  that,  we  are  reasonable  creatures, 
and  have  an  apprehensive  understandingof  the  word,  and 
faculties  remaining  to  us;  so  that  we  might  know,  that 
such  a  presence  is  gone,  and  we  are  miserab'f  loereby; 
and  there  might,  one  would  think,  be  some  lamentings  alter 
the  Lord:  but  where  almost  are  they  to  be  found  ?  If  we 
could  have  the  world  at  will,  enjoy  what  would  gratify 
sensual  inclination,  God  might  be  gone  and  keep  away 
from  us,  and  few  would  concern  themselves  with  the  mat- 
ter. Have  we  any  thing  then  to  say,  that  the  .season  is 
deferred  of  pouring  forth  this  Spirit  f  No.  If  we  consider 
the  resistance  and  grievance  and  vexation,  that  it  hath  met 
withal  in  our  age  and  amongst  us ;  it  is  not  strange,  if  God 
should  determine,  "  My  Spirit  shall  not  strive  with  you; 
whatever  good  thoughts  I  may  have  towards  those  thai 
shall  succeed  and  come  up  hereafter."  But  yet  norwith- 
standing,  it  is  most  suitable  and  congruous,  that  at  one 
time  or  another  so  great  a  work  as  this,  the  recover}"  of  re- 
ligion from  under  so  dismal  a  darkness  and  so  great  a 
death,  should  be  done.  And  all  these  things  together 
serve  to  evince,  that  this  means  hath  an  eflicacy,  which 
we  have  reason  to  believe  both  can  and  will  do  this  work, 
so  as  to  make  religion  to  prosper  and  flourish  in  the  world 
sooner  or  later. 


SERMON  Vni.' 

We  have  shown  at   large  the  efficacy  of  the  means 
assigned  in  the  text,  a  plentiful  effusion  of  the  Spirit, 


586 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT  IN 


Serm.  VIII. 


for  bringing  about  a  happy  state  of  things  to  the  Chris- 
tian church;  in  one  of  those  two  things,  that  must  be 
supposed  to  concur  in  maiiing  up  sucli  a  happy  state ; 
namely, 

I.  For  the  revival  of  the  power  of  religion.*  Without 
which  the  other  branch,  which  we  are  further  to  consider, 
would  signify  very  little  to  the  good  state  of  the  church. 
But  this  being  presupposed,  we  now  proceed  to  show,  how 
efficacious  a  means  the  revival  of  religion  and  the  prosper- 
ous flourishing  state  of  that,  by  the  spirit  poured  forth, 
would  be — 

II.  For  bringing  about  an  externally  happy  state  of 
things  in  the  church  of  God.  And  it  would  be  so,  1.  By 
removing  the  causes  of  public  calamities  :  2.  By  working 
whatsoever  doth  positively  tend  unto  public  good. 

1.  By  removing  the  causes  of  public  calamities ;  both 
the  deserving,  and  the  working  causes. 

1st,  What  does  deserve  public  calamities  ]  What  so  far 
provokes  Divine  displeasure,  as  to  inflict  them,  or  to  let 
them  befall  a  people.  Nothing  doth  this  but  sin,  that  only 
troubles  a  people,  and  causes  an  unhappy  andimprosperous 
state  of  things,  the  hiding  of  God's  face,  as  the  text  ex- 
presses it.  It  doth  as  it  were  cause  an  ireful  aspect  in  the 
countenance  of  Providence ;  makes  that  otherwise  shining, 
smiling  face  to  be  hidden  and  obscure,  and  clothes  it  with 
terror,  that  it  is  not  tu  be  beheld.  The  Lord's  hand  is  not 
shortened  that  it  cannot  save,  nor  his  ear  heavy  that  it 
cannot  hear;  but  your  iniquities  have  separated  between 
you  and  your  God,  and  your  sins  have  hid  his  face  from 
you;  in  the  language  of  the  text,  Isaiah  lix.  1,  2.  So  it 
hath  been  threatened  that  it  should  be,  and  so  in  event  it 
hath  been,  upon  manj'of  the  more  notable  apostaciesof  the 
church  of  God.  This  hath  constantly  ensued,  his  hiding 
his  face  ;  that  is,  his  altering  the  course  of  providence,  so 
as  that  its  aspect  hath  become  ireful  and  terrible.  It  is 
foretold,  that  so  it  should  be  upon  such  delinquencies. 
God  says  to  Moses,  Deut.  xxxi.  16,  &c.  Behold,  thou 
shalt  sleep  with  thy  fathers,  and  this  people  will  rise  up, 
and  go  a  M'horing  after  the  gods  of  the  strangers  of  the 
land,  whilber  iheygo  to  be  amongst  them,  and  will  forsake 
me,  and  break  my  covenant  which  I  have  made  with  them. 
And  what  will  come  of  thatl  Then  my  anger  shall  be 
kindled  against  them  in  that  day,  and  I  will  forsake  them, 
and  I  will  hide  my  face  from  them,  and  they  shall  be  de- 
voured, and  many  evils  and  troubles  shall  befall  them;  so 
that  they  will  say  in  that  day.  Are  not  these  evils  come 
upon  us,  because  our  God  is  not  amongst  us  1  and  the 
like  you  have,  chap,  xxxii.  18,  &c.  Of  the  rock  that  begat 
thee  thou  art  unmindful,  and  hast  forgotten  God  that  form- 
ed thee.  And  when  the  Lord  saw  it,  he  abhorred  them, 
because  of  the  provoking  of  his  sons  and  of  his  daughters. 
And  he  said,  1  will  hide  my  face  from  them,  I  will  see 
what  their  end  shall  be  ;  for  they  are  a  very  froward  gene- 
ration, &€.  Such  threateningsyou  find  unto  the  Christian 
churches  too,  in  the  2d  and  3d  chapters  of  the  Revelations. 
There  it  is  threatened  to  the  churches  of  Ephesus,  and 
Pergamos,  and  Sardis,  and  Laodicea;  that  inasmuch  as 
there  were  such  and  such  things,  wherein  they  were  noto- 
riously delinquent ;  "  If  you  clon't  repent,  I  will  remove 
your  candlestick,  Rev.  ii.  5.  If  you  don't  repent,  I  will 
fight  against  you  with  the  sword  of  my  mouth,  ver.  16." 
(That  means  no  doubt  the  threatenings  of  the  word  made 
operative,  and  brought  to  execution ;  as  in  Hos.  vi.  5.  I 
have  hewed  thera  by  the  prophets  ;  I  have  slain  them  by 
the  words  of  my  mouth.)  "  Except  thou  repent,  I  will 
come  against  thee  as  a  thief,  Rev.  iii.  3.  And,  because 
thou  art  lukewarm,  and  neither  cold  nor  hot,  I  will  spew 
thee  out  of  my  mouth. — Be  zealous  therefore  and  repent, 
ver.  16,  19."  And  thus  it  hath  also  in  event  been,  accord- 
ing to  the  tenor  of  these  threats.  If  you  look  over  those 
Psalms,  which  are  the  records  of  the  carriage  and  deport- 
ment of  God's  own  peculiar  people  towards  him,  and  of 
his  dealing  v/ith  them  thereupon  ;  the  78th,  10.5th,  and 
lOGlh;  all  hath  but  verified  that  one  thing  mentioned  in 
Lev.  xxvi.  23,  24.  that  when  they  should  walk  contrary 
unto  him,  then  would  he  also  walk  contrary  unto  them  ; 
i.  e.  he  hid  his  face,  as  you  have  heard  the  import  of  that  ex- 
pression. And  it  is  with  the  same  cloud  that  he  doth  as 
it  were  cover  his  face  and  them   too.     He  covered  the 

*  See  page  575. 


daughters  of  Zion  with  a  cloud  in  his  anger.  Lam.  ii.  1. 
So  he  often  did  that  people  (^f  the  Jews.  And  so  he  hath 
the  Christian  churches  too  in  great  displeasure :  those 
seven  in  Asia,  those  in  Greece,  and  in  many  other  parts 
of  the  world  that  have  been  famous. 

What  is  it  now,  that  must  counterwork  that  wickedness, 
which  provokes  God  thus  to  hide  his  face  1  We  know  his 
Spirit  must  do  it:  when  he  pours  out  his  Spirit,  he  ceases 
to  hide  his  face.  That  is  a  quick  refining  fire,  purges  the 
dross  ;  without  the  purging  of  which  the  whole  lump  is 
called  reprobate  silver,  rejected  of  the  Lord.  When  the 
matter  was  consulted  of,  the  blessed  God  is  represented 
as  it  were  disputing  with  himself,  whether  not  to  abandon 
and  disinherit  his  Israel :  and  when  at  length  the  contrary 
resolution  is  taken  up,  what  do  you  find  to  be  the  concur- 
rent resolution  with  that  of  not  casting  them  off  and  laying 
them  aside  1  Jer.  iii.  19.  And  I  said,  how  shall  I  put  thee 
among  the  children,  and  give  thee  a  pleasant  land,  a  goodly 
heritage  of  the  hosts  of  nations  1  Thus  the  matter  is  resolv- 
ed, as  in  a  subserviency  to  the  resolution  not  to  cast  them 
off;  Thou  shalt  call  me,  my  Father,  and  shalt  not  turn 
away  from  me.  "  I  will  put  a  sonlike  disposition  into 
thee,  and  so  the  relation  shall  be  continued,  and  I  will  not 
disinherit  thee."  Thus  the  thoughts  of  that  severity,  oi 
disinheriting  and  abandoning,  came  to  be  laid  aside.  But 
the  Spirit  poured  forth  removes  also — 

2dly,  The  working  causes,  as  well  as  the  provoking 
causes  of  such  calamities  to  the  church  of  God  ;  both  with- 
out and  within  itself. 

[1.]  Causes  without  the  church  itself;  the  injurious 
violence  of  open  avowed  enemies,  the  atheistical,  infidel 
idolatrous  world  ;  and  all  reducible  to  that  head,  by  which 
the  church  of  God  may  be  endangered.  The  eflusion  o.' 
the  Spirit  will  remove  this  cause  of  public  calamities,  either. 

1.  By  subduing  such  enemies  and  breaking  their  power. 
And  while  God  is  among  his  people  and  hath  not  hid  his 
face  they  may  venture  to  defy  all  the  world.  Gird  your- 
selves, and  ye  shall  be  broken  in  pieces:  gird  yourselves, 
and  ye  shall  be  broken  in  pieces.  Take  counsel  together, 
and  it  shall  come  to  nought ;  speak  the  word,  and  it  shall 
not  stand:  for  God  is  with  us,  Isa.  viii.  9,  10.  "Our 
matters  are  in  a  good  state;  for  we  are  not  deserted  and 
forsaken  of  the  Divine  presence,  our  defence  and  ourglory." 
How  is  all  the  enemies'  power  gloried  over  upon  this  ac- 
coimt  in  the  46th  Psalm,  and  in  many  like  places  of  Scrip- 
ture !  In  that  time,  when  they  shall  generally  fear  the 
I  ord  from  the  west,  and  his  glory  from  the  rising  of  the 
sun  ;  then  it  is  said,  When  the  enemy  shall  come  in  like 
a  flood,  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  shall  lift  up  a  standard 
against  him,  (Isa.  lix.  19.)  i.  e.  animate  and  fill  up  every 
part ;  so  as  that  all  that  oppose  shall  even  melt  away 
before  him.     Or, 

2.  They  shall  be  overawed,  so  as  thereby  to  be  made  to 
surcease  and  desist  from  attempts  of  hostility  against  the 
church.  For  the  church,  when  religion  lives  in  it,  (as  you 
know  that  is  to  be  the  first  effect  of  the  Spirit  to  this  pur- 
pose,) becomes  terrible  as  an  army  •with  banners;  as  the 
expression  is,  Cant.  vi.  4.  Upon  life,  order  will  be  sure 
to  ensue,  and  with  that  goes  majesty,  and  with  that  terror. 
There  is  an  awful  majesty,  you  know,  sits  in  the  face  of 
a  man,  while  he  lives;  but  if  he  once  become  a  carcass, 
the  fowls  of  the  air  and  the  beasts  of  the  field,  and  even 
the  very  worms  of  the  earth,  dare  prey  upon  him.  So  it  is 
with  the  church  ;  when  it  is  dead,  when  religion  is  become 
a  mere  piece  of  empty,  spiritless  formality,  this  makes  it 
look  but  just  like  other  parts  of  the  world  ;  they  will  say 
of  it,  What  are  they  better  than  we  1  The  i-eligion  of 
Christians,  if  you  look  only  to  the  external  formalities  of 
it,  hath  not  so  much  of  a  superiority  or  higher  excellency, 
but  that  it  will  be  a  disregarded  thing  with  them  who  can 
easily  distinguish  between  vivid  religion  and  dead.  But 
when  the  Spirit  of  the  living  God  puts  forth  itself  in  dis- 
cernible effects,  and  such  as  carry  an  awful  aspect  with 
them  unto  the  common  reason  of  men ;  religion  then 
grows  a  venerable  thing,  and  the  very  purpose  of  opposition 
and  hostility  is  checked  and  countermanded,  and  even 
quite  laid  aside.     Or  else, 

3.  They  become  kindly  affected  by  this  means  unto  the 
church  ;  to  those  that  are  seriously  religious  in  the  woi.d_ 


Serm.  VIII. 


REFERENCE  TO  THE  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH. 


587 


which  we  suppose  to  be,  upon  so  general  a  pouring  forth 
of  the  Spirit,  a  very  common  thing.  Their  hearts  incline 
to  favour,  as  we  have  noted  upon  another  occasion  before, 
that  it  is  apt  to  be.  When  there  are  manifest  appearances 
of  God  in  the  restoring  of  religion,  it  appears  that  the 
thing  is  of  the  Lord,  the  hand  of  heaven  is  seen  in  it. 
When  it  was  very  remarkably  so  among  the  first  converts, 
it  is  said,  they  had  favour  with  all  the  people,  Acts  ii.  47. 
Upon  those  manifest  appearances  of  God  on  behalf  of  the 
Israelites  under  the  Egyptian  oppression,  the  Egyptians  at 
length  came  to  favour  them.  The  Lord  gave  the  people 
favour  in  the  sight  of  the  Egyptians,  (Exod.  xi.  3.)  for  they 
manifestly  saw,  that  God  was  for  them.  So  natural  a 
respect,  from  somewhat  of  a  remaining  congenerousness, 
the  manifest  appearance  of  any  thing  divine  did  of  old 
draw  from  the  reasonable  nature  of  man  !  Yea, 

4.  They  become  sincerely  proselyted  very  generally : 
that  is  to  be  supposed  from  the  many  scriptures  formerly 
opened.  And  so  the  causes  of  offence  and  disturbance  to 
the  church  from  without  very  much  cease,  from  the  vast 
extension  and  spreading  of  its  territories:  they  th-at  were 
enemies  to  true  Christians  on  every  side,  become  such  even 
of  themselves.  That  transforming  power  and  influence, 
which  religion  and  the  Spirit  of  God  poured  forth  will 
have  upon  the  generality  of  the  spirits  of  men,  is  the  thing 
designedly  held  forth  by  such  expressions  as  these,  Isaiah 
xi.  6,  &c.  The  wolf  shall  dwell  with  the  lamb,  and  the 
leopard  shall  lie  down  with  the  kid ;  and  the  calf,  and  the 
young  lion,  and  the  fatling  together ;  and  a  little  child  shall 
lead  them.  And  the  cow  and  the  bear  shall  feed,  their 
young  ones  shall  lie  down  together  ;  and  the  lion  shall  eat 
straw  like  the  ox.  And  the  sucking  child  shall  play  on  the 
hole  of  the  asp,  and  the  weaned  child  shall  put  his  hand 
on  the  cockatrice's  den.  It  is  subjoined  to  all  this,  (ver.  9.) 
They  shall  not  hurt  nor  destroy  in  all  my  holy  mountain  ; 
for  the  earth  shall  be  full  of  the  knowledge  of  the  Lord, 
as  the  waters  cover  the  sea.  Religion  shall  so  diff"use  itself, 
and  the  Spirit  of  God  go  forth  with  that  transforming 
power,  as  to  turn  leopards  and  lions  and  beasts  of  prey  into 
lambs,  to  make  men  of  ravenous  dispositions  to  become 
sincere  Christians  :  according  to  the  influence  and  power 
of  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  the  knowledge  of  the  Lord  shall  co- 
ver the  earth  as  the  waters  do  the  sea,  and  so  there  shall 
be  no  hurting  nor  destroying  in  all  the  holy  mountain  of 
the  Lord.  My  design,  as  hath  been  often  intimated,  is 
more  to  show  the  coimexion  of  these  things  with  one  an- 
other, than  to  define  the  circumstances  of  the  state  itself, 
and  when  it  shall  be.  In  the  same  manner  I  conceive  the 
expression  is  to  be  understood  in  Psalm  xlv.  5.  where, 
speaking  of  the  prosperous  state  and  progress  of  the  king- 
dom of  Christ,  its  great  improvements,  when  he  shall  go 
on  prosperously,  conquering  and  to  conquer,  he  saith  ; 
"  Thy  arrow  shall  be  sharp  in  the  hearts  of  enemies, 
whereby  the  people  shall  fall  under  thee.  Thy  arrow  shall 
be  directed  even  into  their  very  hearts,  and  so  they  shall 
become  subject  unto  thy  rule  by  means  of  the  impressions 
made  upon  their  hearts." 

[2.]  Causes  of  trouble  and  calamity,  within  the  church 
itself,  will  by  the  same  means  be  made  to  cease  too. 

We  are  told  what  those  causes  are  by  the  apostle  James, 
chap.  iv.  1.  From  whence  come  wars  and  fightings  among 
you"?  come  they  not  hence,  even  of  your  lusts  !  Indeed 
this  is  the  same  cause  that  was  before  mentioned,  but  con- 
sidered as  disquieting  and  troubling  the  church  of  God  in 
the  world  in  another  way  of  operation.  The  wickedness 
of  the  world  may  be  considered,  either  with  reference  to 
the  object  of  it,  the  great  and  blessed  God,  against  whom 
all  sin  of  whatsoever  kind  is  ultimately  directed;  or  with 
reference  to  the  general  subject  of  it,  the  world  itself  which 
lies  in  wickedness.  According  to  the  Ibrmer  notion  of  it, 
as  it  works  in  direct  reference  to  God,  it  is  the  moral  cause 
of  calamities;  it  provokes  God  to  intiict  them,  as  hath 
been  shown.  But  beside  that,  it  is  to  be  eonsidei-ed  in  the 
other  notion,  in  reference  to  the  subject :  and  so  it  hath  an 
immediate  malignant  efficiency  of  its  own,  to  work  public 
calamities. 

Plain  it  is,  that  the  covetousness,  the  pride,  the  wrath- 
fulness,  the  env^',  the  malice,  that  every  where  so  much 
abound  in  the  Christian  church,  are  the  source  of  its  wars, 
the  things  that  disquiet  it,  and  will  not  let  it  rest  :  ajid 


(which  involves  them  all,)  self-love;  a  radical  evil,  from 
whence  spring  all  the  other,  and  consequently  all  the  mi- 
series, that  do  or  at  any  time  have  infested  the  church  of 
God  in  this  world.  It  is  the  observation  of  a  pagan,  that 
a  people's  self-love  Ls  (as  he  calls  it)  the  caase  of  all  sins  ; 
that  too  earnest  love  that  every  one  unduly  bears  to  him- 
self And  the  apostle  Paul,  speaking  of  the  perilous  times 
that  should  be  in  the  latter  age  of  the  world,  or  the  last 
times,  (meaning  by  that  phras-e  the  latter  part  of  the  age 
from  the  Messiah  to  the  end  of  the  world,  according  Uj  the 
known  division  of  time  into  three  ages  by  the  Jews.)  signi- 
fies that  the  perilousness  of  those  times  should  then  priu- 
cipally  appear,  when  there  should  be  a  more  noloriou.s  dis- 
covery of  that  great  principle  of  self-love  every  where  in 
the  world.  Indeed  that  haih  been  a  principle  ruling  the 
world  ever  since  the  breakmg  ofl;"of  man  from  God."  Yet 
we  know  there  are  some  times  of  more  prevailing  wicked- 
ness in  the  world  than  others  are  :  and  this  is  the  character 
of  those  perilous  times  of  the  last  age,  that  men  should  be 
lovers  of  their  own  selves,  ^iXauroi,  2  Tim.  iii.  1,2.  Or,  as 
the  apostle  Peter,  .speaking  of  tlie  same  latter  times,  ex- 
presses it,  2  Pet.  ii.  10.  men  shall  be  nvBiftcn,  self-plea.sers. 

It  is  very  obvious  how  all  the  other  particular  evils 
spring  from  this  one  root.  What  is  pri<(e  but  an  over- 
weening conceit  of  a  man's  self  1  too  much  complacency 
in  and  admiration  of  one's  self?  What  is  covetou.-ness, 
but  a  labouring  to  grasp  all  to  oneself  1  EnvT  rises,  be- 
cause I  see  others  have  the  good  things  which  I  would 
fain  have  myself.  When  it  fares  better  with  a  man  than 
it  doth  with  others,  then  he  is  proud ;  when  it  fares  belter 
with  others  than  it  does  with  him,  then  he  is  enviuus. 
When  he  is  proud  upon  the  former  account,  that  subdues 
him  to  the  dominion  of  such  other  evils,  as  have  most  af- 
finity with  that;  it  makes  him  wrathful,  malicious,  re- 
vengeful, and  the  like.  All  these  miseries,  in  respect 
whereof  the  last  days  are  said  to  be  perilous,  are  by  the 
apostles  in  the  fore-mentioned  places  referred  unto  self- 
love,  self-pleasing,  as  the  proper  diagnostics  and  charac- 
ters of  such  a  state  of  the  world.  But  what  kind  of  self-love 
is  it  1  or  what  kind  of  self  is  it  the  love  of?  It  is  our  most 
ignoble,  meanest  self,  the  basest  part  of  ourselves;  the 
body,  the  sensitive  life,  and  the  good  things  that  are  suitable 
and  subservient  to  that.  This  self  is  the  great  idol  set  up 
all  the  world  over,  and  the  undue  love  of  it  is  the  idolatry 
by  which  that  idol  is  served  :  terrene  and  earthly  good,  io 
the  several  kinds  and  .'iorts  of  it,  are  the  several  sorts  of 
sacrifices,  by  which  that  idol  is  from  time  to  lime  provided 
for.  This  being  the  true  .state  of  the  case,  as  wickedness 
doth  more  prevail  and  abound,  tliere  is  s'ill  the  higher 
contestation  between  idol  and  idol :  so  many  men,  so 
many  idols;  and  so  many  altars  set  up  for  each  several 
idol.  And  (his  makes  all  the  hurry  and  commotion  in 
each  part  and  corner,  every  man  labouring  to  grasp  as 
much  as  he  can  to  the  service  of  his  own  idol,  his  own 
private  and  particular  interest.  This  hath  drawn  that 
inundation  of  miseries  upon  the  church  of  God ;  the 
wickedness  of  men  hath  thus  broke  out  like  a  flood.  The 
floods  of  ungodly  men,  acted  by  such  principles,  and  hj 
that  one  principle  as  radical  to  all  the  rest,  have  over- 
whelmed the  world  and  the  church  witli  miseries. 

And  where  is  the  cure  1  Only  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord 
lifting  up  a  standard  against  these  floods ;  and  that  by 
turning  men  from  transgression  in  Zion,  Isa.  lix.  19,  20. 
bv  counterworking  that  wickedness,  that  hath  prevailed  so 
far  and  to  so  high  a  degree.  The  Spirit  of  the  living  God 
only  can  purge  and  compose  at  once  the  troubled  state  of 
things.  Wickedness  can  never  admit  any  such  thing  as 
(juiet.  The  wicked  are  like  the  troubled  sea,  when  it  can- 
not rest,  whose  waters  cast  up  mire  and  dirt.  There  is  no 
peace,  saith  my  God,  to  the  wicked,  Isa.  Ivii.  20,  21.  They 
can  neither  admit  it  themselves,  nor  permit  it  to  others. 
Now  here  the  great  purifier  must  be  the  Spirit  poured 
Ibrth ;  spoken  of  under  the  metaphorical  expressions  of  a 
refiner's  fire,  and  of  fuller's  soap,  Mai.  iii.  2.  That  is  a 
quick  and  fervent  fire,  and  will  certainly  make  away  with 
the  dross  and  wickedness,  when  once  it  comes  to  pour 
forth  its  mighty  and  fervent  influences  to  that  blessed  pur- 
pose :  even  though  there  should  be  a  state  of  things,  as  is 
foretold  in  Zeeh.  xiii.  8,  9.  when  two  third  parts  of  the 
land  sliouJd  be  cut  ofl'  and  die,  and  only  a  third  be  lefl  j 


588 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT  IN 


Serm.  IX. 


that  shall  be  refined,  as  silver  is  refined,  and  tried,  as  gold 
is  tried.  It  is  but  one  and  the  same  labour,  that  gives  pu- 
rity and  peace.  The  same  thing  that  defiles,  disturbs; 
and  the  same  thing  that  purges,  pacifies,  and  brings  all  to 
a.  quiet  state  and  happy  composure.  So  the  Spirit  poured 
forth  will  be  a  most  eflicacious  means  to  bring  about  a 
good  state,  by  removing  the  causes  of  public  miseries. 
And  also, 

2.  By  working  whatsoever  hath  a  positive  tendency  to 
the  good  and  happiness  of  the  church.  To  evidence  this, 
I  shall  speak,  first  of  the  principles,  which  it  doth  im- 
plant. And,  secondly,  of  the  effects,  which  it  works  by 
those  implanted  principles,  tending  to  the  common  pros- 
perity of  the  whole  church. 

[l]  The  principles,  which  it  doth  implant.  We  may 
comprehend  them  all  summarily  imder  the  name  of  the 
Divme  image,  which  it  is  the  great  business  of  the  Spirit 
to  restore  among  men.  And  I  shall  particularize  no  lower 
than  to  these  two  heads, — divine  light,  and — love;  which 
the  Spirit  of  God  poured  forth  settles  and  plants  in  the 
minds  of  men.  These  are  the  two  great  things,  wherein 
men  are  capable  of  imitating  God.  By  one  of  the  pen- 
men of  holy  writ,  the  apostle  St.  John,  in  one  and  the 
same  epistle,  God  is  said  to  be  both  light  and  love.  God 
is  light,  1  John  i.  5.  God  is  love,  chap.  iv.  16.  These 
made  somewhat  generally  to  obtain  amongst  men,  cannot 
but  infer  a  most  happy  state. 

1.  Light.  When  tliis  is  diff'used,  when  the  knowledge  of 
God  comes  to  cover  the  earth,  (as  was  said,)  as  the  waters 
do  the  sea,  it  cannot  but  make  a  happy  peaceful  state. 
There  is  nothing  terrible  in  light.  "  A  sphere  of  light  (as 
I  remember  a  heathen  speaks)  hath  nothing  in  it  that  can 
be  disquieiive  ;  and  therefore  therein  can  "be  nothing  but 
perfect  tranquillity."  Wherever  men  are  quarrelling  with 
one  another,  they  are  quarrelling  in  the  dark,  scufiiing 
and  fighting  with  one  another  in  the  dark  ;  though  every 
man  thinks  he  sees,  which  makes  the  matter  so  much  the 
worse.  It  is  a  real,  but  an  unimagined,  unapprehended 
darkness,  that  overspreads  the  world  ;  and  in  that  dark- 
ness men  are  working  all  the  mischiefs  and  miseries  to 
themselves  that  can  be  thought  of  There  will  be  an  end 
to  that,  when  the  Divine  light  comes  and  spreads  itself  (as 
it  were)  in  men's  lives. 

2.  Love.  When  God  implants  his  love  in  the  minds  of 
men,  there  needs  no  more.  Even  that  one  thing  is  enough 
lo  make  a  happy  world,  the  love  of  God  dwelling  in  every 
breast,  transforming  them  into  love.  He  that  dwelleth  in 
love,  dwelleth  in  God,  and  God  in  him,  1  John  iv.  16.  A 
most  certain  assurance,  that  all  will  be  well.  And  I  would 
speak  of  these  three  branches  of  Divine  love,  (for  it  is  all 
divine  in  respect  of  the  root  and  principle,)  as  conducing 
to  ma  e  the  world  happy;  supreme  love  to  God ;  a  due 
and  well  regulated  love  of  every  man  to  himself;  and  love 
to  every  other  man  as  to  himself.    But  of  these  hereafter. 

I  shall  now  close  with  a  short  word  of  Use.  By  the 
drift  and  tenor  of  what  hath  been  hitherto  discoursed,  you 
may  see,  that  the  good  and  felicity  of  every  person,  and 
so  of  the  church  in  common,  though  it  come  at  last  in  the 
issue  to  be  an  external  thing,  yet  in  the  root  and  principle 
is  an  interpal  thing.  Every  man's  happiness  or  misery 
grows  within  himself:  and  so  the  common  happiness  and 
misery  of  the  church  of  God  grow  principally  and  chiefly 
within  itself.  It  is  the  saying  of  a  heathen,  Epictetus  I 
mean,  "  The  character  or  note  of  an  idiot  or  plebeian  is 
this,  that  he  places  the  expectation  of  all  his  good  or  of  all 
his  evil  from  without ;  whereas  the  note,  the  certain  cha- 
racter of  a  philosopher,  (of  a  wise  or  virtuous  man,  so  he 
means  by  that  term,)  is  to  place  all  his  expectation  of  good 
or  evil  in  things  that  are  within  himself"  It  were  well  if 
we  could  but  learn  this  document  from  a  heathen  ;  and 
learn  it  well,  so  as  to  have  the  sense  of  it  deeply  infixed  in 
our  minds  and  hearts;  that  hearing  of  these  several  causes 
that  work  the  calamities  and  troubles  of  the  church  of  God, 
we  would  consider,  that,  according  to  our  participation  in 
any  such  calamities,  these  evils  in  ourselves  do  contribute 
a  great  deal  more  to  them  than  the  evils  in  any  other  men. 
Let  us  be  convinced  of  this.  Do  but  apprehend,  that  if  the 
ambition,  or  pride,  or  covetousness,  or  malice  of  another 
man  may  hurt  me,  these  things  within  myself  do  hurt  me 
*  Preached  Aiiffitst  2Sth,  !678.  , 


much  more ;  and  there  is  some  spice  or  other  of  them  in 
each  of  our  natures.  Why  should  not  we  be  convinced  of 
so  plain  a  thing?  Is  not  a  dart  in  my  own  brea.st  worse 
than  in  an  enemy's  hand  1  If  I  think  myself  concerned  to 
know,  what  the  pride  and  covetousness,  and  malice  and 
ambition,  of  such  and  such  a  man  may  do  against  me ;  if 
I  have  any  tincture  of  these  evils,  (as  who  dares  say  he 
hath  notl)  within  my  own  soul;  have  not  I  a  nearer 
thing  to  regret,  than  the  evil  that  only  lies  in  another 
man  "?  To  expect  or  fear  all  our  hurt  from  without,  and 
not  to  fear  the  next  and  nearest  evil,  is  the  greatest  stu- 
pidity imaginable. 

And  then  for  the  causes  of  common  good,  and  so  of  our 
own,  as  that  is  involved;  we  hear,  it  may  be,  with  a  great 
deal  of  complacency,  of  such  principles  generally  implant- 
ed in  the  minds  of  men.  What  glorious  times  would  they 
be,  if  all  other  men  were  such  lovers  of  God,  such  orderly 
lovers  of  them.selves,  and  such  lovers  of  their  neighbours, 
as  they  should  be  1  but  is  it  not  of  a  great  deal  more  con- 
cernment to  our  own  felicity,  that  we  be  so  ourselves  1  can 
the  goodness,  the  piety,  the  righteousness,  the  benignity  of 
other  men  do  me  good,  in  comparison  of  what  these  things 
lodged  and  deeply  rooted  in  my  own  soul  would  dol  It 
is  true,  it  were  a  most  desirable  thing  lo  have  all  the  world 
religious;  but  if  all  the  rest  of  the  world  were  so,  and  my 
own  soul  vacant  of  it,  what  should  I  be  the  belter  for 
that  1  If  all  other  men  were  lovers  of  their  own  souls,  it 
would  be  happy  for  them  ;  but  nothing  to  me,  if  I  despised 
my  own.  Therefore  let  us  learn,  what  our  own  present 
business  must  be ;  to  labour  to  have  the  causes  of  com- 
mon calamity  wrought  out  from  ourselves,  and  the  causes 
of  common  felicity  and  prosperity  inwrought  into  our- 
selves. We  cannot  tell  how  to  mend  the  state  and  condition 
of  the  world  ;  and  our  duty  reaches  not  so  far  ;  but  we  have 
each  of  us  a  work  to  do  at  home,  in  our  own  bosoms. 
And  if  ever  we  expect  to  see  good  days,  it  must  be  in  this 
way,  by  being  good  and  doing  going.  Psalm  xxxiv.  14. 


SERMON   IX.* 

We  are  considering  the  principles,  which  the  Spirit 
poured  forth  doth  implant,  conducive  to  the  general  pros- 
perity and  felicity  of  the  people  of  God.  And,  as  was  said 
before,  of  the  evil  and  mischievous  principles,  that  natu- 
rally work  their  calamity  and  misery,  that  they  may  be  all 
reduced  to  an  inordinate  self-love  ;  so  the  good  principles, ' 
which  have  a  tendency  to  their  welfare,  may  all  be  referred 
unto  one  common  head,  that  of  a  due  and  well-tempered, 
well-proportioned  love.  When  the  Spirit  of  God  comes  to 
make  a  good  and  happy  state  of  things  to  obtain  and  take 
place  in  the  church  ;  the  work  of  that  Spirit,  poured  forth 
for  this  purpose,  is  to  write  the  laws  of  God  in  the  hearts 
of  his  people.  So  you  may  find,  (where  there  is  a  mani- 
fest reference  to  that  future  happy  state  promised,  and 
which  we  are  yet  expecting  and  waiting  for.)  he  speaks  in 
that  and  in  parallel  Scriptures  of  giving  his  Spirit,  and  of 
its  immediate  workings  and  operations.  And  this  is  its 
general  work,  to  write  his  law  in  the  hearts  of  his  people, 
Jer.  xxxi.  33.  Now  the  law,  we  are  told,  all  the  Jaw  is 
fulfilled  in  that  one  word,  Love,  Gal.  v.  14.  That  is  the 
sum  and  epitome  of  the  whole  law.  And  if  we  descend  a 
little  more  to  particulars,  these  three  branches  of  a  holy 
gracious  love  will  do  the  whole  business;  that  is, — 1. 
That  love  to  God,  which  he  requires  and  claims; — 2.  That 
love  of  particular  persons,  each  of  them  to  themselves, 
which  is  due  and  regular  ; — 3.  Their  love  to  other  men,  as 
to  themselves  ;  or  measured  by  that  love,  which  they  duly 
bear  to  themselves. 

1.  Consider  what  the  love  of  God  is,  according  as  the 
law  requires;  and  that  we  must  therefore  believe  will  be, 
when  God  pours  forth  his  Spirit  generally,  and  by  it 
writes  his  law  upon  the  hearts  of  men.  Here  is  the  firs^ 
and  great  thing  in  the  law,  as  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  him- 
self gives  us  the  system  of  it,  Thou  shall  love  the  Lord 
thy  God  with  all  thy  heart,  and  with  all  thy  soul,  and  with 


Serm.  IX. 


REFERENCE  TO  THE  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH. 


58D 


all  thy  mind,  Matt.  xxii.  37,  38.  Wh-.U  doth  the  Lord  thy 
God  require  of  thee,  but  to  I'ear  the  Lord  thy  God,  &c. 
and  to  love  him,  and  to  serve  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all 
thy  heart  and  with  all  thy  soul  ?  Deut.  x.  12.  Do  but 
consider,  what  this  would  do  to  make  a  happy  world  or  a 
happy  church,  to  have  the  love  of  God  exalted  into  its  just 
dominion  and  supremacy  in  the  minds  and  souls  of  men: 
that  is,  suppose  a  universal  agreement  among  men  to  love 
God  with  one  consent,  with  all  their  minds,  and  with  all 
their  souls,  and  with  all  their  strength,  as  far  as  the  bounds 
of  the  church  may  be  set.  There  must  be  considerable  in 
this  love  to  God,  1.  Zeal  for  his  interest  and  honour  :  and, 
2.  Desire  of  happiness  in  him.  One  is  love  to  him,  as  our 
supreme  and  sovereign  Lord:  the  other  love  to  him,  as 
our  supreme  and  sovereign  Good,  our  Portion  and  Feli- 
citJ^     Now, 

1st,  Do  but  suppose,  a  general  agreement  amongst  us 
in  the  former  of  these, — that  entire  devotedness  urito  the 
interest  of  God,  which  his  love  doth  most  certainly  include 
and  must  possess  the  hearts  of  men  with; — what  an  in- 
fluence must  this  have  !  When  there  shall  be  no  other  con- 
tention amongst  men,  than  who  can  do  most  for  God,  who 
can  most  greaten  him  in  the  world;  when  men  shall  ge- 
nerally agree  in  an  entire  devotedness  unto  the  sovereign, 
supreme  interest  of  the  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth ;  don't 
you  think,  that  would  do  much  of  this  happy  business"? 
For  what  cause  of  contention  can  there  be  amongst  men 
then"?  There  are  no  quarrels  in  heaven  ;  where  that  is  the 
entire  business  of  all,  the  thing  wherein  all  consent  and 
Eigree,  to  praise  and  honour,  to  adore  and  glorif)^  their  com- 
mon Ruler  and  Lord :  and  so  far  as  the  happy  state  we 
are  speaking  of  shall  obtain  in  the  church  of  God  on  earth, 
so  far  that  will  be  the  very  image  of  the  church  of  God  in 
heaven.  Where  there  is  an  agreement  among  persons 
upon  an  evil  principle,  do  but  consider  how  it  compacts 
such  people  amongst  themselves ;  see  how  united  the 
people  of  Ephesus  were  in  a  false  religion !  as  is  noted  by 
that  orator,  who  bespoke  them  on  occasion  of  the  commo- 
tion amongst  them  upon  the  apostle  Paul's  coming  thither, 
in  Acts  xix.  35.  "What  man  is  there,  that  knoweth  not 
hoivthat  the  city  of  the  Ephesians  is  a  worshipper  of  the 
great  goddess  Diana,  and  of  the  image  which  fell  down 
from  Jupiter  V  It  was  it  seems  a  most  observable  unani- 
mity, that  was  amongst  this  people  in  this  one  thing,  unto 
that  degree,  that  the  whole  city  is  said  to  be  but  one  wor- 
shipper. Now  when  the  church  shall  come  to  be  but  one 
worshipper  of  the  great  God,  all  devoted  to  him  to  serve 
his  interest;  when  there  shall  be  but  one  altar,  the  many 
'altars  mentioned  before  being  all  overturned  by  that  inun- 
dation of  the  Spirit  poured  forth,  and  now  but  one  great 
interest  to  be  served;  must  not  this  make  a  happy  state  of 
things  so  far  as  it  obtains  1  It  is  the  multiplicity  and  pri- 
vateness  of  men's  designs  and  ends,  that  sets  all  the  world 
together  by  the  ears,  and  makes  men  every  where  ready  to 
tear  one  another  in  pieces ;  whether  they  go  under  the 
Christian  name,  or  not,  that  makes  no  difference  in  the 
case;  as  certainly  a  wolf  is  never  a  whit  the  less  a  wolf 
for  being  clothed  with  a  sheep's  skin.  But  when  persons 
shall  become  one,  consenting  and  agreeing,  by  the  influence 
of  that  great  principle  of  divine  love,  in  the  main  design 
and  business  of  religion  ;  this  must  produce  a  happy  har- 
mony. It  is  a  very  plain  case,  that  if  you  draw  a  circum- 
ferential line,  and  place  one  centre  within  that  circumfer- 
ence, you  may  draw  as  many  straight  direct  lines  as  you 
will  from  any  part  of  the  circumference  to  that  centre,  and 
it  is  impossible  you  should  ever  make  them  to  intersect  or 
interfere  with  one  another;  but  let  there  be  several  centres, 
and  then  you  cannot  draw  lines  from  any  part,  but  they 
must  necessarily  intersect  and  cross  one  another  ever  and 
anon.  Here  is  the  case  before  us.  It  is  the  making  of 
many  centres,  that  causes  men  to  interfere,  while  every 
man  makes  his  own  self  his  end  ;  no  two  men's  interests 
can  throughout  and  always  agree;  but  that  which  this  or 
that  man  does,  to  please  and  serve  himself,  disserves  or 
displeases  somebody  else,  and  hereupon  comes  a  quarrel. 
It  is  manifest,  that  sincere  religion  would  cure  all  this: 
when  there  is  but  one  end,  and  every  man's  business  is  to 
serve  and  glorify  their  common  Maker  and  Lord  ;  when  all 
thus  agree  in  the  love  of  god,  there  would  be  no  interfering: 
7nd  how  would  that  contribute  to  external  prosperity  ! 


2dl3',  Do  but  consider  the  other  thing,  which  true  love 
to  God  includes,  thai  is,  the  desire  of  him  as  our  portion, 
our  best  and  supreme  good  ;  if  that  shall  once  come  to  be 
universal,  (a.s  it  shall  be,  whenever  the  happy  time  comes, 
when  the  Spirit  shall  generally  write  the  law  of  God  in  the 
hearts  of  men,)  it  must  needs  make  stirs  and  contentions 
and  troubles  to  cease  from  amongst  men,  so  far  as  it  doth 
obtain.  For,  (as  was  intimated  before,)  where  self-love  is 
the  ruling  principle,  self  the  great  idol,  and  something  or 
other  of  terrene  good  the  sacrifice  wherewith  this  idol  is  to 
be  served;  f.o  the  business  of  every  man  is  to  grasp  in  all 
that  he  can  of  the  good  things  of  this  earth  for  himself. 
Now  terrene  good  is  (as  our  bodily  part  itself  is,  unto  which 
it  is  most  adapted  and  suited)  of  such  a  nature,  that  it 
cannot  be  severed  and  divided  into  parts  without  being 
diminished  and  lessened  in  the  several  parts:  it  is  not 
partible  without  diminution;  so  that  the  more  one  enjovs 
of  it,  the  less  every  one  else  enjoys.  But  now,  when  the 
blessed  God  himself  is  the  best  good  to  every  one,  every 
one  enjoys  his  share  without  the  diminution  of  others' 
share.  It  is  from  the  limitedness  and  unpartibleness  of 
terrene  good,  without  the  lessening  of  the  several  parts, 
that  it  comes  to  be  the  object  or  occasion,  about  which  or 
upon  account  whereof  there  is  so  much  exercise  of  con- 
cupiscence, inordinate  desire,  envy,  malice;  every  one 
labouring  to  catch  from  another,  as  thinkinganolher's  por- 
tion to  be  more  than  comes  to  his  share,  and  his  own  less 
than  should  come  to  his:  there  is  the  occa.sion,  (and  the 
corrupt  nature  of  man  is  apt  to  take  occa.sion  from  any 
thing,)  for  stirring  the  lusts  and  passions  I  am  speaking  of, 
in  reference  to  earthly  good.  But  there  is  no  occasion  at 
all  for  the  exercise  of  any  such  disquieting  passions  here  ; 
when  there  is  a  common  agreement  to  make  God  their 
portion,  to  esteem  him  so  with  the  Psalmist,  "  Whom 
have  I  in  heaven  but  thee?  and  there  is  none  upon  earth 
that  I  desire  besides  thee;"  when  this  comes  to  be  the 
common  sense  with  men,  no  man's  share  is  diminished  by 
the  greater  and  larger  enjoyments  of  another.  And  there- 
fore you  do  not  find,  that  there  is  wont  to  be  any  exercise 
of  disquieting  passions  in  this  ca.se.  Did  you  ever  know 
any  man,  that  entertained  malice  against  another,  because 
he  himself  desired  to  have  very  much  of  God,  and  he 
thought  the  other  enjoyed  more  ;  there  is  no  place  or  pre- 
tence at  all  for  any  such  thing;  because  let  another  have 
ever  so  much,  there  is  enough  io  the  same  fountain  for 
him  and  for  me  too. 

2.  Consider,  what  love  towards  a  man's  self  is  in  the 
due  kind  and  degree  of  it ;  and  how  that,  when  it  shall 
come  to  obtain  generally  amongst  men,  must  make  to- 
wards the  good  and  happy  state  of  the  church.  That 
due  and  just  love  of  a  man's  self,  will  have  its  exercise 
in  these  two  things ;  1.  A  strict  care  of  his  mind  and  inner 
man ;  and,  2.  A  due  care  also  of  the  body  or  outward 
man. 

1st.  A  very  strict  care  of  the  mind  and  inner  man.  I 
remember  a  heathen,  speaking  of  self-love,  saith  ;  "  It  is 
true  indeed,  that  every  man  ought  to  have  a  love  to  him- 
self; there  is  a  self-love  that  is  divine,  which  God  makes 
him  to  bear  to  himsellV  And  by  how  much  the  more  a 
man  is  a  lover  of  himself  with  that  kind  of  love,  .<;o  much 
the  less  is  he  apt  to  disquiet  other  men,  or  to  contribute 
any  thing  to  common  miseries.  Now  he  that  loves  him- 
self duly  and  aright,  will  principally  and  in  the  first  place 
love  his  owTi  soul ;  he  will  labour  to  cultivate  that,  to  fit 
it  for  God,  for  his  service  and  enjoyment ;  and  about  soul- 
concernments  men's  interests  do  not  differ.  Will  you  but 
suppt)se  men  thus  employed  and  busied,  intently  taken  up 
about  their  own  eternal  felicity  and  the  present  forming  of 
their  spirits  in  order  thereto;  such  will  not  have  leisure 
to  give  trouble  to  other  men.  They,  that  are  all  busy 
about  this  great  atTair,  to  intend  their  own  spirits,  to  keep 
their  hearts  with  all  diligence,  to  depress  whal.-^oever  may 
be  troublesome  to  themselves  or  oftensive  to  God  within 
them,  to  improve  and  adorn  their  souls,  to  fit  them  for, 
and  render  them  capable  of,  a  blessed  eternity :  you  may 
be  .sure  will  find  verv  little  leisure  to  concern  themselves 
with  the  affairs  of  the  world,  to  the  trouble  and  disquiet  of 
that ;  though,  if  thev  can  be  anv  way  serviceable,  ihey  will 
be  most  earnest  and  ready  to  do  that,  from  the  same  tem- 
per and  disposition  of  spirit.     They  are  the  most  trouble- 


590 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT  IN 


SiRM.  X. 


some  people  every  where,  that  do  least  mind  their  own 
souls,  and  have  least  business  to  do  at  home. 

2ndly,  A  due  caie  of  the  body  also  is  included  in  re- 
gular self-love.  And  that  would  signify  not  a  little  to  a 
happy  time ;  that  is,  if  there  were  that  care  commonly 
lUken  of  the  outward  man,  and  of  what  doth  more  imme- 
diately influence  that,  the  appetites  and  affections  and  pas- 
sions of  the  lower  soul,  wherein  the  true  notion  of  tempe- 
rance consists ;  which  is  one  of  the  fruits  of  the  Spirit, 
Gal.  V.  23.  If  men  could  generally  keep  the  flesh  and  its 
inordinate  cravings  under  a  government,  so  that  it  shall  not 
be  gratified  in  every  thing  that  it  would,  nor  sensual  in- 
clinations be  suffered  to  grow  into  exorbitances :  if  all 
those  things,  that  need  to  be  corrected  and  reduced  to  order 
by  sumptuary  laws,  were  so  reduced  by  a  living  law  in 
every  man's  own  self;  if  men  were  generally  become  by 
inward  inclination  chaste,  sober;  willing  to  content  them- 
selves with  what  is  useful  for  the  ends  and  purposes  of 
nature,  without  making  provision  for  the  flesh  and  its  lusts, 
to  satisfy  and  content  thera  ;  not  addicting  themselves  to 
eat  or  drink  more  than  is  necessary,  or  to  idleness  and  sloth 
and  other  pieces  of  indulgence  to  the  flesh  ;  there  would 
be  connected  with  such  things  as  these,  contentedness  in 
every  man's  mind ;  (for  lust  is  more  costly  than  nature, 
covets  more  and  must  have  more;)  and  hereupon  neces- 
sarily a  great  deal  of  tranquillity  and  peace.  For  while 
men's  minds  are  contented  within  themselves,  they  are  very 
little  apt  to  give  discontent  to  others  :  but  persons  discon- 
tented themselves,  restless  and  full  of  trouble,  (which  they 
are  only  by  their  lusts,)  are  fit  instruments  then  to  give  all 
the  world  trouble,  so  far  as  their  power  can  go.  Nor  would 
it  be  a  small  ingredient  in  the  common  external  happiness 
of  such  a  time,  that  by  this  means  there  would  be  a  more 
general  healthiness  of  body  among  people.  If  that  great 
fruit  of  the  Spirit,  temperance,  did  commonly  obtain ;  (by 
which  we  are  able  each  one  to  possess  his  vessel,  his  own 
body,  in  sanctification  and  honour,  1  Thess.  iv.  4.  to 
attend  his  own  body  even  as  the  temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost;) 
then  there  would  not  be  that  general  cause  of  complaint 
concerning  consuming  and  loathsome  sicknesses,  that  are 
the  great  calamity  of  the  age,  and  owing  so  manifestly  in  a 
high  degree  to  unbridled  lust.  In  that  happy  state  of  the 
church  of  God,  wherein  it  is  said,  that  the  inhabitants  of 
Zion  shall  not  say  they  are  sick,  shall  have  no  more  cause 
to  complain  of  sickness,  because  they  shall  be  forgiven  their 
iniquity,  (Isa.  xxxiii.  24.)  I  reckon,  that  forgiveness  of  sin 
hath  a  reference  to  that  happy  slate  of  things,  not  only  as 
it  puts  a  slop  to  the  inundations  of  Divine  judgments  in 
other  kinds,  but  also  as  it  hath  a  direct  tendency  to  keep 
off  the  evil  mentioned:  that  is,  when  sin  is  forgiven,  the 
power  of  it  is  broken  at  the  same  time  :  God  doth  never 
forgive  sin,  and  leave  it  reigning ;  but  he  forgives  and 
breaks  the  power  of  it  at  once.  Now,  as  when  sin  is  not 
forgiven,  men  are  left  to  the  swing  and  impetus  of  their 
own  lusts,  and  so  are  the  executioners  of  God's  vengeance 
upon  themselves ;  so,  when  sin  is  forgiven,  it  languishes 
and  dies ;  such  a  people  grow  more  pure,  holy,  temperate, 
chaste,  sober  in  all  their  conversation  ;  and  so  there  comes 
to  be  less  appearance  of  sickness  and  ails,  and  those  cala- 
mities with  which  men  naturally  affect  their  own  flesh  by 
the  indulgence  of  their  lusts.  So  that  by  the  Spirit  poured 
forth,  and  .so  a  principle  of  due  love  to  a  man's  self  being 
once  implanted  and  excited,  and  kept  in  due  exercise,  it 
must  infer  generally  both  more  contented  minds  and  more 
healthful  bodies ;  and  these  things  cannot  but  signify  a 
great  deal  to  make  a  very  good  time. 

There  is  a  third  branch  of  love,  that  must  obtain,  when 
God  comes  to  write  his  law  in  the  hearts  of  men  by  his 
Spirit ;  love  as  it  respects  other  men.  But  of  this  here- 
after. 

By  what  hath  been  said,  it  seems  a  plain  case,  that  the 
Spirit  of  God  poured  forth  would  make  a  very  happy  ex- 
ternal state  of  things.  And  since  it  is  so  proper  and  direct 
a  means,  and  would  be  so  efficacious,  were  it  poured  forth  ; 
truly  it  cannot  but  be  matter  of  very  sad  reflection,  that 
the  thing  should  not  be  done  ;  that  there  should  be  so  great, 
so  dreadful,  a  restraint  of  this  blessed  Spirit  in  our  time 
and  age,  as  we  have  cause  to  observe  and  complain  of. 
It  is  matter  of  sad  reflection,  if  you  consider,  what  as  an 
•  PreaclieJ  September  4tli,  1678. 


effect,  it  carries  the  signification  of ;  and  also  what  further 
mournful  effects  it  carries  a  presignification  of,  as  a  cause. 

[1.]  Consider,  what  an  evil  it  carries  in  it  the  signified^ 
tion  of,  as  an  effect.  The  principle  of  such  a  restraint  must 
needs  be  a  very  great  degree  of  Divine  displeasure.  It  is 
the  highest  expression  of  such  displeasure,  that  we  can 
think  of,  and  the  most  dreadful  piece  of  vengeance,  when 
God  saith  ;  Now  because  men  have  offended  me  at  so  high 
a  rate,  I  will  take  away  my  Spirit  from  them.  This  was 
the  act  of  vengeance,  wherewith  he  punished  the  provoca- 
tions of  the  old  world,  when  the  wickedness  of  man  was 
great  in  the  earth,  and  the  imagination  of  his  heart  was  all 
evil,  and  that  continually ;  "  Well !"  saith  he,  "  my  Spirit 
shall  no  more  strive  with  man,  (Gen.  vi.  3,  5.)  I  have  done, 
my  Spirit  shall  strive  no  more."  It  signifies  the  displea- 
sure to  be  so  much  the  greater,  by  how  much  the  easier 
such  a  happy  work  as  this  might  be  wrought  and  brought 
about  amongst  us ;  it  is  no  more  but  to  let  his  Spirit 
breathe,  and  all  our  troubles,  and  all  the  causes  of  them, 
must  vanish  at  once  :  no,  but  saith  God,  "  My  Spirit 
shall  not  breathe,  shall  not  strive."  The  event  speaks 
the  determination  and  purpose :  it  doth  not  breathe  or 
strive.  Are  we  so  stupid  as  not  to  observe  that  1  is  there 
that  Spirit  of  love,  of  prayer,  and  supplication,  stirring,  a« 
hath  been  wont  1  It  is  very  terrible  to  think,  that  there 
should  be  such  a  restraint  of  that  blessed  Spirit,  upon  ac- 
count of  the  signification  made  by  it  of  Divine  displeasure. 

[2.]  Consider,  the  presignification  it  also  carries  with 
it  of  most  dreadful  effects  to  ensue,  when  in  displeasure 
his  Spirit  retires  and  is  gone.  The  not  pouring  forth  ot 
the  Spirit  signifies,  that  wrath  must  be  poured  forth. 
When  the  Spirit  is  restrained,  wrath  shall  not  be  restrained 
long.  The  pouring  forth  of  the  Spirit  and  of  wrath  do,  as 
it  were,  keep  turns ;  there  is  an  alternation  between  them. 
When  the  Spirit  is  not  poured  forth,  then  there  is  blind- 
ness, hardness,  an  eye  that  cannot  see,  an  ear  that  cannot 
hear,  and  a  heart  that  cannot  understand ;  as  you  have 
them  joined  in  Isaiah  vi.  10.  And  how  long  must  this 
continue  1  Lord,  how  long?  saith  the  prophet  there,  ver. 
11.  it  follows,  "  Until  the  cities  be  wasted  without  inhabit- 
ant, and  the  houses  without  man."  That  is  the  answer 
given.  And  therefore  methinks  we  should  be  all  in  a  kind 
of  trembling  expectation,  while  the  matter  is  so  manifest, 
that  this  blessed  Spirit  is  under  restraint.  What  doth  it 
signify,  but  a  purpose  and  determination  of  the  offended 
majesty  of  the  blessed  God  1  "  Let  the  lusts  of  men  have 
their  swing,  let  them  rend  and  tear  one  another  by  the 
violent  agitations  and  hurries  of  their  own  furious  lusts." 
He  hides  his  face  all  the  while.  I  will  hide  my  face,  saith 
he,  I  will  see  what  their  end  shall  be,  Deut.  xxxii.  20.  It 
is  not  difficult  to  apprehend,  what  will  come  of  them,  when 
once  I  give  them  up  and  leave  them  to  themselves:  then 
there  need  no  other  hands  to  be  armed  against  them  but 
their  own;  they  will  soon  be  self-destroyers:  each  man 
would  be  so  to  himself,  if  given  up  to  the  furious  hurry  and 
impetus  of  indwelling  lust.  Certainly  we  have  reason  to 
conclude,  that  this  age  hath  highly  displeased  the  Lord, 
that  his  Spirit  is  so  much  withdrawn,  that  could  so  easily 
work  a  cure :  but  yet  he  will  not,  he  thinks  fit  to  express 
resentment  by  holding  und"n-  restrain:  that  Spirit,  that 
could  rectify  and  set  all  right,  and  make  us  a  very  happy 
people  in  a  moment. 


SERMON  X.* 

We  are  yet  speaking  of  the  tendency  of  that  radical 
principle  of  love  to  make  an  external  happy  state  of  things, 
which  we  are  to  expect  the  Spirit  when  poured  forth  to 
implant.  We  have  spoken  of  love  to  God,  and  of  regular 
self-love  ;  and  of  the  influence  which  these  severally  must 
have  towards  a  prosperous  state. 

3.  Consider  what  love  to  other  men,  as  to  themselves, 
would  do  in  this  matter.  This  supposes  that  second 
branch  we  have  been  insisting  on,  a  due  love  to  ourselves, 
as  not  only  allowed  but  enjoined  us ;  when  it  is  made  the 


SrnM.  X. 


REFERENCE  TO  THE  CliRISTlAN  CHURCH. 


591 


measure  of  the  love  we  are  to  bear  and  exercise  toward 
other  men  :  and  therefore,  as  being  a  deeper  and  more  fun- 
damental law  of  nature,  that  must  be  suj  posed  to  be  more 
excellent  and  noble  in  its  own  kind.  PerfecU.ssimvm  in 
stM  genere  est  mensura  reliquorum.  But  the  Spirit,  whose 
work  and  business  it  is  to  write  the  laws  of  God  in  the 
hearts  of  men,  when  he  shall  be  poured  forth,  will  write 
this  also,  that  they  love  other  men  as  they  ought  to  love 
themselves:  especially  in  the  latter  days,  the  times  which 
our  discourse  refers  to.  Because  so  great  a  part  of  that 
law  is  wrapped  up  in  this  love;  therefore  it  cannot  but  be 
that  in  those  latter  days,  when  God  doth  design  to  reform 
and  new-mould  things,  the  felicity  and  happy  state  of 
things  shall  he  brought  about  very  much  by  the  mediation 
and  interv'^eniency  of  this  love  and  the  influence  thereof 
And  because  this  love  hath  a  most  direct  influence  this 
way,  I  have  designed  the  more  to  enlarge  upon  it ;  and 
shall  speak  of  it  according  to  that  double  reference,  which 
our  subject  obliges  us  to  consider;  that  is, — its  reference 
to  God  and  his  Spirit,  as  the  author  of  it ;  and — its  refer- 
ence unto  a  happy  state  of  things,  as  that  which  is  to  be 
brought  about  by  it — its  reference  upwards  to  God,  and 
downwards  to  the  world — which  two  considered  together 
will  amount  to  thus  much;  that  by  God's  working  of  this 
love  more  generally  amongst  men,  that  happy  and  blessed 
issue,  that  we  are  speaking  of,  is  to  be  accomplished. 

1st,  Consider  we  its  reference  to  God  and  to  his  Spirit ; 
which  we  are  necessarily  to  consider;  otherwise  the  pour- 
ing forth  of  the  Spirit  would  not  include  it.  And  it  is  re- 
quisite we  should  insist  upon  this,  inasmuch  as  such  love 
is  too  commonly  meanly  thought  of;  it  were  well,  if  there 
were  not  cause  to  say,  that  too  general!}' professors  of  reli- 
gion at  a  higher  and  stricter  rate  had  not  too  low  an  opinion 
of  this  love  in  the  Scripture  regulation  of  it,  the  loving  of 
others  as  ourselves,  the  measure  unto  which  it  is  to  be  ad- 
justed. And  true  it  is  indeed,  that  they  who  know  no 
more  of  this  matter  than  only  the  mere  sound  of  the  words, 
they  into  whose  heart  the  thing  never  entered,  and  with 
whom  it  never  yet  became  a  vital,  living  law,  will  think 
it  but  a  mean  thing.  It  looks  in  such  persons'  eyes,  while 
it  is  only  clothed  with  a  verbal  representation  and  no 
more,  as  a  meanly  habited  person  at  their  doors,  whom 
they  guess  at  only  by  his  garb;  and  if  such  a  one  should 
have  meanness  objected  to  him  only  from  thence,  and  the 
case  will  admit  it,  it  is  but  a  doing  himself  right  to  speak 
of  his  parentage,  and  tell  how  nobly  he  is  descended.  And 
so  much  are  we  to  do  on  the  behalf  of  this  love,  to  let  ^^ou 
know  it  is  a  heaven-born  thing,  descended  of  God,  that 
owes  itself  to  heaven ;  it  is  of  no  lower  and  meaner  ex- 
traction than  so.  Don't  think  I  mean  by  it  that  common 
carnal  lov^e,  which  wicked  men  as  such  ma}''  bear  one  to 
another;  which  is  a  more  mean  and  less  innocent  love, 
than  that  which  birds  and  beasis  have  to  those  of  their  own 
kind  ;  but  I  mean  that  love,  whereby  any  are  enabled  to 
love  men  as  men,  and  holy  men  as  holy  men,  in  God,  and 
for  God's  sake,  and  upon  his  accoimt.  This  is  a  heavenly, 
divine  thing,  the  product  of  the  blessed,  eternal  Spirit  of 
God  alone.  For  evincing  of  that,  weigh  these  several 
considerations,  which  the  Scriptures  do  plainly  and  plen- 
tifully afford  us. 

1.  That  even  this  love  is  called  the  love  of  God.  So  it 
is  most  plainly  in  1  John  iii.  17.  Whoso  hath  this  world's 
goods,  and  seeth  his  brother  have  need,  and  shntteth  up 
his  bowels  of  compassion  from  him:  how  dwelletli  the 
love  of  God  in  himi  So  noble  and  sublime  a  thin?  is  not 
to  be  more  meanly  spoken  of,  it  is  to  be  called  the  love  of 
God;  no  title  inferior  to  that  is  suitable  to  it. 

2.  That  God  is  called  the  God  of  this  love.  Live  in 
peace,  and  the  God  of  love  and  peace  shall  be  with  you, 
2  Cor.  xiii.  11. 

3.  It  is  expressly  said  to  be  of  God,  and  men  upon 
the  acconnt  of  this  love  to  be  born  of  God.  So  in  1  John 
iv.  7,  8.  Beloved,  let  us  love  one  another;  for  love  (this 
love  plainly)  is  of  God  ;  and  everyone  that  lovelh,  is  born 
of  God,  and  knoweth  God  ;  is  acquainted  with  God.  inti- 
mate and  inward  with  God;  as  a  man's  own  cliildren 
would  be  with  him,  that  are  born  of  him,  in  whom  his 
own  nature  is.  Whereupon,  on  the  other  hand,  they  are 
spoken  of  as  mere  strangers  to  God,  such  as  have  nothing 
to  do  with  him,  nor  he  with  them,  that  are  destitute  of  this 


love.  He  that  loveth  not,  knoweth  not  God ;  for  God  is 
love.     And  again, 

4.  That  it  is  plainly  made  a  character  of  the  elect  of 
God,  distinguishing  and  severing  of  them  from  the  refuse 
world,  Colo-;,  iii.  Ti.  Put  on,  as  the  elect  of  Grod.  bowels 
of  mercies,  kindness,  &c.  Intimating  plainly  to  lis,  that 
wheresoever  God  doth  place  his  own  love,  there  he  dott 
impress  and  beget  this  love. 

.5.  It  is  placed  amongst  the  fruits  of  the  Spirit,  and  even 
in  the  front  of  them,Gral.  v.  22.  The  fruit  of  the  Spirit  is 
love ;  in  opposition  to  the  hatred,  wrath,  strife,  &c.  men- 
tioned in  the  foregoing  verses  as  the  works  of  the  flesh. 
And  we  are  told  in  Eph.  v.  9.  that  the  fruit  of  the  Spirit  is 
in  all  goodness,  and  righteousness,  and  truth — in  all  good- 
ness;— it  is  the  proper  work  of  the  Spirit  upon  the  spirits 
of  men  to  till  them  with  goodness,  propensions  and  inclina- 
tions to  do  good;  and  so  to  beget  in  them  that  love,  which 
must  be  the  spring  of  all  such  doing  of  good. 

6.  Walking  in  the  Spirit  is  directed  with  a  special  eye 
and  reference  unto  the  exercise  of  this  love;  as  you  may 
see  in  Gal.  v.  the  14th,  [."jth,  and  IGih  verses  compared  to- 
gether. All  the  law  is  fulfilled  in  one  word,  (he  means 
the  whole  law  of  the  second  table,)  even  in  this,  Thou  shall 
love  thy  neighbour  as  th3^seH".  But  if  ye  bite  and  devour 
one  another,  (the  opposite  to  this  love,  or  that  which  fol- 
lows upon  the  want  of  it,  or  from  the  opposite  principle.) 
take  heed  that  ye  be  not  consumed  one  of  another.  Tnis  I 
say  then,  (observe  the  inference,)  Walk  in  the  Spirit,  and 
ye  shall  not  fulfil  the  lust  of  the  flesh.  To  walk  in  the 
Spirit  is  to  walk  in  the  exercise  of  this  love. 

7.  It  is  spoken  of  as  a  peculiar,  inseparable  concomitant 
of  that  light,  which  is  from  God  and  the  Spirit  of  God, 
and  made  and  transmitted  by  the  Gospel.  Observe  to  this 
purpose,  1  John  ii.  7,  &c.  Brethren,  I  write  no  new  com- 
mandment unto  you,  but  an  old  commandment  which  ye 
had  from  the  beginning;  the  old  commandment  is  the 
word,  which  ye  have  heard  from  the  be?innin?.  Again, 
a  new  commandment  I  write  unto  you,  which  thing  is  true 
in  him  and  in  you  ;  because  the  darkness  is  past,  and  the 
true  light  now  shineth.  He  that  saiih,  he  is  in  the  light, 
and  haieth  his  brother,  is  in  darkness  even  until  now.  He 
that  loveth  his  brother,  abideih  in  the  lieht,  and  there  is 
none  occasion  of  stumbling  in  him.  But  he  that  hateth 
his  brother,  is  in  darkness,  and  walketh  in  darknes.'^,  and 
knoweth  not  whither  he  goeth,  because  that  darkness  hath 
blinded  his  eyes.  A  new  commandment  this  is,  and  not 
new:  not  new,  in  respect  of  the  substance  of  it :  for  so  it 
is  one  of  the  ancient,  substantial,  lundamental.  great  laws 
of  nature  ;  and  wheresover  the  revelations  of  God's  mind 
and  will  is  to  be  found,  that  is  and  was  ever  to  be  found; 
but  new,  in  respect  to  that  more  glorious  way  of  recom- 
mendation, which  it  now  hath  in  and  by  the  Grospel,  and 
the  Spirit  of  Christ ;  which,  wheresoever  it  comes  to  obtain, 
in  what  soul  soever,  transforms  that  soul  into  a  heavenly 
region,  a  region  of  calm,  and  mild,  and  benign,  and  holy 
light;  in  that  light  dwells  this  love,  amidst  that  light;  as 
the  contrary,  hatred,  is  a  fiend  that  lives  and  lurks  in 
darkness,  and  can  dwell  no  where  else.  They  that  are 
destitute  of  this  principle,  have  darkness  for  their  region; 
they  can  dwell  no  where  but  in  malignant,  disconsolate- 
darkness ;  there  thev  wander  as  forlorn  bewildered  crea- 
tures. The  apostle  Peter  having  spoken  of  this  love  under 
several  names,  brotherly  kindness,  charity,  and  other  ex- 
pressions that  are  congenerous,  tells  us.  2  Pet.  i.  9.  that  he 
that  lacketh  these  things,  is  blind,  and  rannot  see  far  oflT, 
and  hath  forgotten  that  he  was  cleansed  from  liis  old  sins. 

8.  It  closely  adheres  unto  that  principle  of  life,  which  is 
begotten  in  all  the  children  of  God,  when  they  become  his 
children.  The  begetting  of  .souls  unto  Gk)d,  is  certainly 
the  implanting  in  them  and  deriving  to  them  a  principle  of 
Divine  life.  With  that  principle  this  love  is  complicated, 
or  it  is  a  part  of  that  very  principle  ;  so  as  ihat  by  it  the 
children  of  God  and  the  children  of  the  devil  are  distin- 
guished from  one  another.  He  that  hath  this  principle, 
hath  passed  from  dcah  to  life,  is  in  a  stale  of  life:  as  you 
mav  find  bv  comparing  together  several  verses  of  the 
1  John  iii.  In  this  the  children  of  God  arc  manifest,  and 
the  children  of  i  he  devil;  whosoever  doth  not  righteou'^nes.s, 
is  not  of  God,  (therefore  he  is  of  the  devil)  neither  he  that 
loveth  not  his  brother.     For  this  is  the  message,  that  ye 


592 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT  IN 


Sebm.  X. 


heard  from  the  beginning,  that  we  should  love  one  another ; 
not  as  Cain,  who  was  of  that  wicked  one,  and  slew  his 
brother.  And  wherefore  slew  he  him  1  because  his  own 
■works  were  evil,  and  his  brother's  righteous,  ver.  10,  11, 
12.  And  ver.  14.  We  know  that  we  have  passed  from  death 
to  life,  because  we  love  the  brethren  :  he  that  loveth  not 
his  brother  abideth  in  death  ;  hath  no  participation  of  that 
vital  principle.  He  is  a  murderer,  ver.  15.  and  ye  know, 
that  no  murderer  hath  eternal  life  abiding  in  him.  None 
that  is  apt  to  destroy  the  life  of  another,  can  be  supposed 
to  have  a  principle  of  Divine  life  in  himself,  the  beginning 
of  eternal  life.  So  that,  divide  the  world  into  two  seeds, 
and  they  are  God's  and  the  devil's.  Those  that  are  God's, 
live  the  life  of  God  ;  have  a  life  derived  and  communicated 
to  them  from  God,  wherein  this  same  love  is  a  part :  and 
they  that  are  destitute  of  it,  are  all  to  be  reckoned  to  the 
other  seed  ;  they  belong  to  the  devil's  kingdom ;  for  to  be 
destitute  of  this,  implies  a  being  possessed  with  the  con- 
trary principle:  no  man's  soul  can  be  neutral  in  this  case. 
But  as  to  all  such  good  principles,  as  are  due  unto  the 
original  rectitude  of  man  and  his  nature  as  originally  right ; 
if  these  be  wanting,  they  are  privately  wanting,  and  are 
excluded  by  the  opposite  principles  obtaining  and  having 
place  in  their  room  and  stead:  the  soul  of  man  had  that 
and  such  principles  as  are  duly  belonging  to  him ;  it  can- 
not be  rasa  tabula  ;  but  if  the  true  and  proper  impression 
be  not  there,  there  is  another  impression,  and  not  none. 
And  therefore  it  is  consequent  in  the  next  place, 

That  this  love  must  needs  be  a  great  part  of  the  Divine 
image  and  nature,  that  is  to  be  found  in  all  that  appertain 
to  God. 

All  these  things  taken  together  do  sufficiently  entitle  the 
Spirit  of  God  to  it,  as  the  great  Author  and  Parent  of  it. 
And  that  being  once  plain  and  clear, 

2dly,  We  may  consider  the  other  reference  of  this  love, 
its  reference  downwards  towards  the  world  :  and  it  can- 
not but  be  consequent,  that  wheresoever  the  Spirit  poured 
forth  doth  work,  it  must  needs  work  a  very  happy  state  of 
things,  and  would  make  this  world  a  very  pleasant  region. 
For  what !  would  it  not  make,  think  you,  very  happy  days 
indeed  to  have  men  generally  made  like  God,  transformed 
into  the  Divine  image  1  God  is  love;  and  he  that  loves, 
hears  his  image:  he,  whose  soul  is  under  the  dominion  of 
such  a  love,  is  a  true  living  representation  of  an  the  good- 
ness and  bfuignity  and  sweetness  of  God's  own  blessed 
nature:  and  would  it  not  make  a  happy  state,  if  men  were 
generally  made  such  1  so  to  bear  themselves  to  one  ano- 
tlier,  so  to  converse  and  walk  together,  as  holding  forth 
the  image  of  God,  according  to  the  dictates  of  a  nature 
received  from  God,  a  Divine  nature  put  into  them.  But 
for  the  particular  eviction  of  this,  it  will  appear  by  con- 
sidering the  proper,  natural,  genuine  workings  of  such 
love,  being  itself  once  inwrought.  Consider  to  that  pur- 
pose,— what  it  would  exclude,  and — what  it  would  beget. 

I.  What  it  would  exclude. 

1.  It  would  exclude  all  hard  thoughts  amongst  men 
concerning  one  another.  Love  thinketh  no  evil ;  as  one 
of  the  characters  of  it  is  in  1  Cor.  xiii.  5.  Further  than 
necessity  and  irrefragable  evidence  doth  impose,  it  would 
not  take  up  so  much  as  an  ill  thought  of  any  one.  It  is 
full  of  candour  and  ingenuity,  and  apt  to  make  the  best 
construction  of  every  word  and  action,  and  takes  every 
thing  in  the  best  sense  that  is  capable  of  being  put  upon  it. 
And  what  a  spring  of  mischief  and  misery  in  the  world 
would  be  shut  up,  dried  up,  if  that  proneness  to  hard, 
harsh,  and  frequently  unjust  thoughts,  were  by  the  work- 
ings of  such  a  Spirit  of  love  erased  out  of  the  minds  and 
hearts  of  men  ! 

2.  It  would  exclude  every  thing  of  pride  and  insolence 
towards  others,  vying  with  them,  envying  of  them,  which 
proceeds  from  pride.  Love  vaunteth  not  itself,  is  not  puf- 
fed up,  1  Cor.  xiii.  4. 

3.  It  would  exclude  selfish  designs;  and  with  what  tra- 
gedies and  desolations  do  they  fill  the  world  !  Love  seek- 
ethnot  her  own  things,  1  Cor.  xiii.  5.  The  exhortation  is, 
Phil.  ii.  4.  Look  not  every  man  on  his  own  things,  but 
every  man  also  on  the  things  of  others.  Indeed  it  comes 
from  that  pride  mentioned  before,  that  men  think  all  be- 
long to  them,  and  if  they  can  grasp  ever  so  much,  it  is  no 
more  than  their  due :  and  therefore  we  have  these  things 


so  conjoined  in  the  place  just  mentioned,  ver.  3,  4.  Each 
esteeming  other  better  than  themselves,  and,  not  seeking 
his  own  things,  but  also  the  things  of  others. 

Men  are  so  much  intent  upon  seeking  their  own  things, 
are  all  for  themselves,  because  every  man  is  apt  to  esteem 
himself  before  all  other  men  ;  but  when  we  come  to  esteem 
others  better  than  ourselves,  (I  am  worthy  of  nothing,  any 
mean  thing  is  good  enough  for  me ;)  then  pride  and  sel- 
fishness are  both  excluded  together  by  love. 

4.  It  excludes  all  aptness  to  injure  another.  Love 
worketh  no  ill  to  his  neighbour,  Rom.  xiii.  10.  Love  so 
measured,  whereby  I  love  my  neighbour  even  as  myself, 
and  whence  therefore  it  comes  to  pass  that  I  would  no 
more  hurt  him  than  I  would  myself,  and  would  no  more 
cheat  him  than  I  would  myself,  no  more  oppress  and 
crush  him  than  I  would  myself;  would  not  this  make  a 
happy  world,  do  we  think  1  the  fruit  of  the  Spirit  is  in  all 
righteousness,  Eph.  v.  9. 

5.  As  it  would  by  these  means  exclude  all  aptness  to 
offend  others  ;  so  it  would  exclude  a  proneness  to  receive 
offence ;  and  so  make  greatly  to  the  quiet  of  the  world. 
A  good  man,  one  himself  full  of  love  and  goodness,  is  very 
little  prone  to  take  offence.  Asa  heathen  philosopher  said 
concerning  such  a  one ;  "  A  good  man  neither  doth  injure, 
nor  is  apt  to  resent  an  injury"  So  another  discourses 
largely  to  show,  that  in  sapioUem  non  cadil  injuria  :  in- 
jury doth  not  fall,  doth  not  enter  and  sink  (he  means)  into 
the  mind  and  soul  of  a  good,  a  wise,  and  virtuous  man. 
This  love  excludes  a  captious  disposition,  apt  to  take  of- 
fence at  every  thing,  and  to  pick  quarrels  upon  any  or 
upon  no  occasion.  What  happy  families  would  there  be, 
what  happy  neighbours,  when  such  a  disposition  should 
be  excluded  and  banished  by  the  overruling  power  of  a 
Spirit  of  love !  There  would  be  no  fractions  in  families, 
no  parties,  no  maligning  of  one  another;  which  commonly 
have  their  rise  from  an  aptness  to  snarl  at  any  thing  that 
goes  cross. 

II.  What  it  would  beget. 

1.  It  would  beget  mutual  trust  and  confidence  among 
men  and  Christians  in  one  another ;  which  makes  not  a 
little  unto  the  common  welfare.  How  sad  is  the  case, 
when  a  man  still  continually  converses  with  them  whom 
he  cannot  trust,  and  they  cannot  trust  him !  A  mutual 
confidence  and  trust  in  one  another  is  fundamental  to  al. 
society,  to  the  good  and  prosperity  of  it.  The  apo.stle  de- 
sires to  be  delivered  from  unreasonable  and  wicked  men, 
that  have  no  faith,  2  Thess.  iii.  2.  It  is  probable  he  means, 
that  have  not  trustiness,  faith  in  the  passive  sense;  that 
are  unconversable  men,  such  in  whom  we  can  place  no 
faith.  It  is  a  dreadful  thing  to  live  in  such  a  world  or  age, 
when  a  man  must  perpetually  stand  upon  his  guard,  be  so 
very  cautious  in  all  his  converses  and  words  and  actions ; 
"  I  don't  know  whom  to  trust,  whom  to  deal  with."  When 
this  Spirit  of  love  shall  have  to  do  more  in  the  world,  as 
men  are  generally  made  more  sincere  and  good  ;  so  tliey 
shall  generally  be  more  trusted :  jealousy  and  suspicion 
and  mistrust  and  misgiving  thoughts  concerning  one  ano- 
ther are  gone,  and  they  are  secure  concerning  one  another ; 
as  no  more  suspecting,  that  such  a  man  hath  an  ill  design 
upon  me,  than  I  have  upon  myself 

2.  It  would  produce  mutual  pity.  That  would  be  a 
good  world,  when  every  man  resents  another's  condition 
even  as  his  own,  and  weeps  with  them  that  weep,  as  well 
as  rejoices  with  them  that  do  rejoice,  Rom.  xii.  15. 

3.  It  would  produce  a  promptitude  to  do  one  another 
good  upon  all  occasions.  Such  a  love,  by  the  Spirit  poured 
forth  coming  commonly  to  obtain,  will  make  men  disposed 
to  do  good,  as  opportunity  occurs.  Gal.  vi.  10.  As  we 
have  opportunity  let  us  do  good  unto  all  men,  especially 
unto  them  who  are  of  the  household  of  faith. 

4.  It  will  beget  a  delight  in  one  another's  welfare,  a 
well-pleasedness  in  the  prosperity  of  others,  that  all  tilings 
go  well  with  them. 

5.  It  will  introduce  mutual  converse,  solace  and  de- 
light in  one  another's  society.  When  a  man  shall  see  the 
face  of  his  friend  or  neighbour  as  the  face  of  an  angel  of 
God  ;  he  full  of  love,  and  the  other  full  of  love;  nothing 
but  goodness  flowing  and  reflowing  ;  this  will  surely  make 
a  good  time,  when  the  Spirit  of  God  poured  forth  shall 
generally  influence  the  spirits  of  men  unto  such  a  temper. 


JSerm.  XI. 


REFERENCE  TO  THE  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH. 


593 


This  must  needs  make  a  very  happy  state  of  things, 
make  the  church  on  earth  the  very  emblem  of  the  church 
in  heaven;  as  the  truth  and  sincerity  of  religion  and  god- 
liness is  not  another  thing  from  the  felicity  and  blessedness 
of  heaven,  in  the  nature  and  kind.  It  is  the  same  church, 
that  hath  the  primordials  of  blessedness  here,  and  the  per- 
fection of  it  hereafter.  This  is  one  great  part  of  that  bless- 
edness, when  all  are  inclined  by  the  operation  of  that 
Spirit,  whose  fruit  is  in  all  goodness,  to  seek  and  desire 
and  rejoice  in  the  good  of  one  another,  as  they  would  do 
for  their  own. 

We  can  now  easily  frame  to  ourselves  the  idea  of  a  very 
happy  time;  and  we  ought  to  believe,  that  the  Spirit  of 
God  can  work  all  that  we  can  think,  and  a  great  deal  more, 
when  his  own  time  and  pleasure  is.  What  hath  been  sug- 
gested, must  produce  tranquillity  in  every  man's  own  spi- 
rit ;  which  will  infer  common  tranquillity.  They,  that 
have  themselves  unquiet,  disturbed  spirits,  are  the  great 
troublers  of  the  world.  Therefore  the  devil  works  all  that 
mischief  to  mankind,  because  he  is  himself  a  restless  crea- 
ture, going  up  and  down,  seeking  a  rest,  but  finding  none. 
Men  will  be  at  rest  in  their  own  spirits,  when  they  come 
to  be  under  the  possession  and  dominion  of  such  a  spirit 
as  we  have  spoken  of. 


SERMON  XL* 

We  have  been  evincing  the  efficacy  and  sufficiency  of 
an  effusion  of  the  blessed  Spirit,  such  as  we  hope  for  in 
the  latter  times,  to  produce  not  only  a  prosperous  state  of 
religion,  but  also  an  external  peaceful  state  of  the  church, 
in  consequence  of  the  other  ;  and  this  last,  not  only  by  re- 
moving the  causes  of  general  calamities ;  but  by  working 
likewise  whatever  hath  a  positive  tendency  to  public  good. 
Upon  this  head  it  was  proposed  to  consider, — 1st.  The 
principles,  which  the  Spirit  poured  forth  is  supposed  to  im- 
plant. These  have  been  distinctly  considered.''  And  we 
now  proceed  to  consider, 

[2. J  The  effects,  which  the  Spirit  works  by  those  im- 
planted principles,  tending  to  the  common  prosperity  of 
the  whole  church.  They  may  be  reduced  to  these  t%vo, 
Unioiiamd  Order:  which  will,  both  of  them,  promote  very 
happy  limes  for  the  church  of  God. 

I.  Union  amongst  Christians  is  one  of  those  great  effects, 
which  are  to  be  wrought  by  the  Spirit  poured  forth,  as  a 
thing  wherein  such  a  good  state  of  things  doth  very  much 
consist.     Here  I  shall  show, 

1.  That  such  a  union  amongst  Christians  will  contri- 
bute very  much  to  a  happy  state  in  the  church  of  God, 
whenever  it  is  brought  about.  It  would,  first,  secure  it 
very  much  from  external  violence.  Hereby  it  would  be 
terrible  "as  an  army  with  banners,"  would  dismay  ene- 
mies, and  such  as  might  design  to  trouble  it.  Such  union 
would  make  way  for  undisturbed  communion.  And, 
secondly,  within  the  church  itself  there  would  be  free  and 
pleasant  commerce.  Christians  would  not  be  at  a  loss  and 
difficulty,  what  way  they  were  to  take  in  order  to  the  stated 
discharge  of  incumbent  Christian  duties.  And  what  in 
both  these  respects  such  a  union  will  contribute  unto  the 
common  felicity  of  the  Christian  church,  we  are  too  well 
taught  to  apprehend,  by  our  experience  and  observation  of 
what  we  have  felt  or  heard  of  the  mischiefs  and  miseries 
of  the  church  in  both  these  kinds.  How  miserably  hath 
Christendom  been  worried  by  the  Turkish  power,  upon 
account  of  its  own  divisions !  and  within  the  Christian 
church  itself,  never  hath  it  suffered  more  turmoils  and 
trouble  and  vexation  than  from  intestine  division.  It  hath 
been  a  common  observation  in  the  former  days,  that  the 
Arian  persecution  was  as  cruel  and  wasting  to  the  sincere 
Christians  as  ever  the  paganish  persecutions  were;  and 
some  have  reckoned,  a  great  deal  more.  And  we  do  not 
need  to  tell  you,  what  the  popish  persecutions  have  been 
upon  the  protestants,  and  what  persecutions  have  been 
e  'en  among  protestants  of  one  another.  The  church  hath 
fi  St  been  broken  into  parties,  then  these  several  divided 
'  Preaclieil  Septcml)er  18th,  \673. 


parties  have  fallen  to  contendmg,  and  those  contentions 
have  grown  to  that  height,  that  nothing  less  than  the  rain 
of  each  several  parly  hath  been  designed  by  another.  And 
you  cannot  but  observe  or  have  known,  that  differences 
upon  the  slightest  and  most  trivial  matters  have  been 
managed  with  that  heat  and  animosity,  that  nothing  less 
could  content  and  satisfy  than  even  to  crush  unto  utter 
ruin  those  that  have  dissented.  But  where  were  all  that 
contention,  if  the  contending  parties  were  become  all  one  ? 
and  where  were  all  that  hatred  and  enmitj'  and  malice, 
that  hath  managed  these  contentions  1  For  what !  doth 
any  united  thing,  entire  within  itself,  hate  itself,  and  seek 
to  ruin  itself?     I  proceed  therefore  to  show, 

2.  That  it  is  the  word  of  God's  own  Spirit  to  effect  such 
a  union  ;  and  consequently,  that  when  it  shall  be  senerally 
poured  forth,  such  a  unic.n  must  needs  generally  obtain. 
And  the  matter  will  be  very  clear  from  stmdr}-  Scripture 
considerations:  as, 

1st,  We  find  in  Scripture  this  matter  mystically  and 
allegorically  represented;  that  is,  that  by  the  anointing  of 
this  Spirit,  that  precious  ointment  plentifully  poured  forth 
upon  the  head  of  our  great  High  Priest,  and  diffusing  it^^elf 
unto  all  that  appertain  and  belong  to  his  body,  that  good 
and  pleasant  thing  should  be  brought  about,  of  brethren's 
dwelling  together  in  unity.  This  is  typically  represented 
by  the  ointment  shed  upon  Aaron,  diffused  unto  the  skirts 
of  his  garments,  Ps.  cxxxiii.  I,  2.  It  can  have  no  other 
meaning,  but  that  the  anointing  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  emi- 
nently and  in  the  first  place  upon  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
and  thence  diffused  to  all  that  relate  to  his  body,  brings 
this  blessed  thing  about. 

2dly,  We  find  this  anointing  of  the  Holy  Ghost  upon 
Christians  mentioned  in  Scripture  as  the  great  preservative 
against  divisions.  So  }'ou  may  see  by  perusing  the  greater 
part  of  1  John,  chap.  ii.  There  is  a  discourse  (as  it  is  much 
the  subject  of  the  epistle)  about  the  vital  love  that  ought 
to  be  amongst  the  brethren  ;  and  thence  he  comes  to  take 
notice  of  a  danger  that  would  threaten  Christians  from  the 
many  antichrists  that  would  arise,  and  that  had  in  part 
risen,  ver.  18.  As  ye  have  heard  that  antichrist  shall  come, 
even  now  are  there  many  antichrists,  whereby  we  know 
that  it  is  the  last  time.  For  so  it  was  said  that  it  should  be 
in  the  latter  times,  or  in  the  last  part  of  time,  even  that 
from  Christ  unto  the  end  of  the  world.  Now  wheresoever 
there  are  such  antichrists  starting  up,  pro-christs,  mock- 
christs,  those  concerning:  whom  it  should  be  said,  "Here 
is  Christ,  and  there  is  Chri.st ;"  every  one  of  these  makes 
it  his  business  to  draw  awaj'  a  part ;  and  so  all  their  de- 
sign is  division,  to  snatch  to  themselves  and  draw  off  from 
Christ;  (he  that  gathers  not  with  him,  scattereth ;)  their 
endeavour  and  aim  is  to  divide.  But,  as  a  srreat  preserva- 
tive against  the  malignity  of  this  design,  the  apostle  tells 
them,  that  they  had  an  unction  from  the  Holy  One,  ver.  20. 
There  w'as  their  security :  and  at  ver.  26,  27.  These  things 
have  I  written  unto  you,  concerning  them  that  seduce  you. 
But  the  anointing  which  ye  have  received  of  him.abidelh 
in  you  ;  the  anointing  ot  this  Spirit,  whereof  we  speak.  A 
plain  .signification,  that  the  genuine  work  of  this  Spirit  is 
to  unite,  and  to  hold  the  pans  of  the  body  of  Christ  united, 
tight  and  firm  unto  one  another.  As  much  as  if  he  should 
have  said  ;  "  You  were  lo.st,  the  body  of  Christ  were  dis- 
solved, were  it  not  for  such  an  anointing;  there  arc  many 
that  make  it  their  business  to  diaw  away  l.ere  a  limb,  and 
there  a  limb,  to  [luck  and  dissect  it  part  from  part ;  but 
yc  have  an  anointing,  there  is  all  your  security." 

3dly,  The  divisions,  which  fall  out  in  the  church 
of  Christ,  we  find  in  Scripture  attributed  unto  the  want 
and  absence  and  destitution  of  the  Spirit.  A  plain  argu- 
ment, that  union  is  its  work  where  it  is,  and  according  to 
the  degree  in  which  it  is  amongst  the  people  of  God.  Jude 
19.  These  be  they  who  separate  them.selves,  sensual,  ha- 
ving not  the  Spirit.  And  as  a  like  note  and  expression  of 
sensuality,  you  have  the  apostle  Paul  speaking,  in  Rom. 
xvi.  17,  18.  Mark  them  which  cause  divisions  and  offences, 
— and  avoid  them :  for  they  that  are  such,  serve  not  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  but  their  own  belly.  A  sensual  sort 
of  men,  amongst  whom  there  is  little  appearance  of  the 
Spirit,  of  being  governed  by  the  pure  and  holy  Spirit  of 
God.     And  whom  can  we  think  him  to  reflect  upon  in 

I  a  See  page  588. 


594 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT  IN 


Serm.  XI. 


such  expressions,  those  that  separate  themselves,  and  cause 
divisions,  but  such  as  do  make  new  terms  of  communion 
in  the  church  of  Christ,  which  Christ  himself  hath  never 
mode,  and  insist  upon  them;  "You  shall  not  have  com- 
munion with  us,  unless  you  will  come  to  these  terms;" 
as  the  Gnostics  of  old  did  ;  patching  up  a  religion,  partly 
out  of  Judaism,  and  partly  out  of  heathenism,  and  partly 
out  of  Christianity;  and  so  making  themselves  a  distinct 
body  upon  new  terms  from  the  rest  of  Christians.  And 
so  the  papists  have  since  done  ;  and  being  associated  and 
compacted  together  upon  these  terms,  now  assume  to  them- 
selves the  name  and  title  of  the  church ;  they  only  are  the 
church  ;  cutting  off  themselves  by  such  measures  as  these 
from  all  the  rest  of  Christians,  as"  if  they  were  none  of  the 
church,  because  they  do  not  consent  with  them  in  things 
that  are  beside  Christianity  and  against  it.  And  by  how 
much  the  less  and  more  minute  the  things  are,  by  which 
persons  make  such  difference  and  distinction,  upon  which 
they  sort  and  sever  themselves  from  the  rest  of  Christians, 
so  as  to  exclude  all  others  ;  so  much  the  more  groundless 
and  ridiculous  is  the  division.  A  like  case,  as  if  a  com- 
pany of  men  should  agree  amongst  themselves  to  be  dis- 
tinguished from  other  men  by  such  or  such  a  habit,  such 
or  such  a  colour  of  (heir  garments,  and  call  themselvss 
mankind,  and  deny  all  others  to  be  mankind ;  or  as  if  a 
party  in  the  city  should  distinguish  themselves  by  some 
little  trivial  distinction,  and  call  themselves  the  city,  and 
deny  all  the  rest  to  be  citizens.  This  is  from  not  having 
the  Spirit.  That  Spirit,  wheresoever  it  is  and  works  in 
power,  works  like  itself,  suitably  unto  the  greatness  and 
excellency  of  such  a  Spirit,  and  suitably  to  the  grand  de- 
signs of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  whose  Spirit  it  is.  It 
possesses  and  takes  up  the  minds  of  men  with  things  that 
are  great,  and  does  not  teach  them  to  insist  upon  them- 
selves, or  to  impose  and  urge  upon  others,  niceties  and 
small  trivial  matters.  Is  this  like  the  Spirit  of  the  great 
and  holy  God?  like  the  wisdom  and  holiness  of  that  Spi- 
rit 1  or  suitable  to  the  greatness  of  those  designs,  which  it 
is  to  manage  amongst  "men  ?  So  they,  that  divide  upon 
such  accounts  as  these  are,  "  are  sensual,  not  having  the 
Spirit,  and  serve  not  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  but  their  own 
bellies."  And  therefore,  according  to  the  degree  in  which 
such  divisions  have  taken  place  amongst  Chri.slians,  they 
have  been  spoken  of  not  as  spiritual,  but  as  carnal.  "I 
could  not  speak  unto  you  as  unto  spiritual,  but  as  unto 
carnal ;  saith  the  apostle  to  the  Corinthians,  1  Cor.  iii.  1. 
"  I  could  not  tell  how  to  look  upon  you,  or  converse  with 
you,  or  apply  myself  to  you,  as  spiritually-minded  men ; 
but  as  men  miserably  carnal,  ev^en  lost  in'carnality  :"  for 
whereas  there  is  among  you  en  wing,  and  strife,  and  divi- 
sions, are  ye  not  carnal,  and  walk  as  men  1  ver.  3.  It  is 
not  like  a  Christian  spirit,  like  the  Christian  design,  but 
like  other  men.  And  therefore  we  al.so  find,  that  where 
the  works  of  the  flesh  are  enumerated,  Gal.  v.  19,  &c. 
among  them  come  seditions,  heresies,  ^ix<>raaiai  and  aipia^i ; 
by  which  there  are  siding's,  part-takings,  part  set  against 
part,  one  parly  against  another ;  and  severings,  divulsions, 
and  rendings  in  the  church,  plucking  it  as  it  were  piece- 
meal this  way  and  that.  In  opposition  whereto  divers 
things,  that  have  the  contrary  tendency,  as  love,  meek- 
ness, peace,  &c.  are  made  the  fruits  of  the  Spirit  in  the 
following  verses. 

4thly,  The  unity,  that  doth  obtain  in  the  Christian 
church,  in  what  degree  soever  it  doth  obtain,  is  called  the 
unity  of  the  Spirit :  as  in  Eph.  iv.  3.  Endeavouring  to 
keep  the  unity  of  the  Spirit  in  the  bond  of  peace.  A  unity 
therefore  no  doubt  it  is,  whereof  the  Spirit  is  the  author 
and  the  preserver  ;  according  as  it  doth  keep  the  bond  of 
peace  unbroken  amongst  Christians,  keeps  them  in  a 
peaceable  temper  and  deportment  towards  one  another. 
The  Spirit  of  God  is  the  warrantee  of  the  church's  peace, 
and  it  is  his  part  to  preserve  it  entire ;  but  yet  so,  as  thai 
every  one  hath  a  part  of  his  own  in  a  way  of  duty,  and  in 
subordination  to  the  Spirit  of  God,  to  act  too ;  and  must 
contribute  to  it,  each  one  in  his  place  and  station.  And 
therefore,  as  though  there  be  never  so  potent  a  warrantee 
cf  peace  amongst  nations,  it  is  possible  that  these  nations 
may  by  their  own  default  fall  foul  upon  one  another  ;  so 
it  may  be  proportionably  in  this  case.  Christians  by  in- 
dulging the  first  risings  of  another  spirit,  a  contentious, 


malignant  spirit,  may  grieve  that  Spirit  that  is  to  be  their 
preserver,  causing  it  to  retire  and  withdraw ;  and  so  he 
may  leave  them  to  look  on,  and  see  what  their  end  will 
be,  and  what  they  will  bring  matters  to  themselves :  as 
when  he  hides  his  face,  and  withdraws  his  Spirit,  the  great 
God  saith,  I  will  hide  my  face,  and  see  what  the  end 
will  be,  Deut.  xxxii.  20.  But  what  unity  there  is,  that  is 
true  and  of  the  right  kind,  is  the  unity  of  the  Spirit :  and 
that  shows  it  is  his  proper  work,  where  it  doth  obtain,  and 
according  to  the  measure  wherein  it  is  poured  forth,  to 
cause  and  preserve  such  unity. 

5ihly,  The  subject  of  such  a  union  is  also  the  seat  and 
receptacle  and  habitation  of  the  communicated  Spirit. 
That,  which  is  the  subject  of  such  a  union,  is  also  the  sub- 
ject and  dwelling-place  (as  I  may  speak)  of  the  indwelling 
Spirit :  it  comes  to  dwell  there,  where  the  proper  subject 
of  this  union  is.  That  is  a  signification  to  us,  that  it  hath 
a  great  influence  upon  this  imion  ;  that  where  it  dwells, 
there  cannot  but  be  some  union,  a  union  even  in  the  main 
and  principal  things  amongst  all  living  Christians.  They 
are  all  come  as  lively  stones  unto  the  living  corner-stone, 
(1  Pet.  ii.  4,  5  )  and  compacted  into  a  habitation  of  God 
through  the  Spirit,  Eph.  ii.  22.  Where  the  union  is,  there 
the  Spirit  is,  in  contradistinction  to  all  tJie  rest  of  the  world. 
That  part,  where  the  Spirit  of  God  inhabits,  is  his  church. 
And  therefore  to  be  added  to  the  church,  or  to  become 
Christians,  if  a  man  become  so  indeed,  is  at  the  same  time 
to  receive  the  Spirit.  Received  ye  the  Spirit  by  the  works 
of  the  law,  or  by  the  hearing  of  faith  1  are  ye  so  foolish, 
having  begun  in  the  Spirit  1  Gal.  iii.  2,  3.  They  were 
supposed  to  have  received  the  Spirit,  and  to  have  begun 
in  the  Spirit,  inasmuch  as  they  were  Christians.  And 
therefore  one  of  the  last  things,  that  the  apostle  Peter  spoke 
to  his  hearers,  in  that  sermon  by  which  so  many  thousands 
were  converted,  was.  Repent, — and  ye  shall  receive  the 
Holy  Ghost,  Acts  ii.  38.  If  ye  be  converts  in  truth,  the 
Holy  Ghost  immediately  comes  upon  you.  Indeed  in  their 
becoming  converts  it  seizes  them  :  and  when  it  hath  made 
them  converts,  and  formed  them  into  a  habitation,  then  it 
comes  and  dwells,  and  they  receive  it  as  an  inhabitant ; 
as  a  house  must  be  built,  before  it  be  inhabited ;  and  he 
that  was  the  builder,  is  the  inhabiter.  Hereupon  it  is  said, 
that  they  that  have  not  the  Spirit  of  Christ  are  none  of  his, 
Rom.  viii.  9.  They  that  are  related  to  him,  and  they  that 
are  unrelated,  are  discerned  by  this,  the  having  or  not 
having  his  Spirit :  Christ's  Spirit  enters  and  possess  as  all 
his.  The  true  Christian  church,  the  mystical  body  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  as  that  is  the  seat  and  subject  of  the 
union  whereof  we  are  speaking,  so  it  is  also  the  residence 
of  the  Spirit :  and  therefore  certainly  the  Spirit  hath  much 
to  do  in  the  business  of  this  union. 

6thly,  The  very  cause  of  this  union  amongst  Christians, 
so  far  as  it  doth  obtain,  is  the  oneness  of  this  Spirit.  It 
is  because  that  Spirit  is  one,  that  dwells  every  where  in 
them  all,  that  they  are  one.  And  so  it  doth  appear,  that 
the  Spirit  is  not  only  there  seated,  and  dwells  in  the  same 
subject  where  the  union  is;  but  it  is  the  very  cause,  why 
there  is  such  a  union  in  the  body,  because  it  dwells  in 
every  part  of  it.  There  is  one  body,  and  one  Spirit,  even 
as  )'e  are  called  in  one  hope  of  your  calling,  Eph.  iv.  4. 
And  the  reason  why  the  members  of  the  body,  though  they 
are  many,  are  yet  said  to  make  but  one  body,  is,  because 
by  one  Spirit  they  are  all  baptized  into  one  body,  and  have 
been  made  to  drink  into  one  Spirit,  1  Cor.  xii.  13.  As  if 
it  should  have  been  said,  "You  are  so  little  one  upon 
any  other  account,  or  under  any  other  notion,  than  only 
as  one  Spirit  hath  diffused  itself  "amongst  you  and  cements 
you  together,  and  refers  and  disposes  you  towards  one  ano- 
ther ;  that  the  body  of  Christ  would  be  no  more  one  than 
a  rope  of  sand,  there  would  be  no  more  cohesion  of  the 
parts,  but  if  there  were  opportunity,  part  would  be  severed 
from  part.  The  body,  though  it  consists  of  many  members, 
yet  is  all  one  body,  because  y&  have  been  "  all  baptized 
into  one  Spirit,  and  made  to  drink  into  one  Spirit :"  refer- 
ring to  the  two  sacraments,  baptism,  and  the  supper  of  our 
Lord  ;  as  both  of  them  significative  of  the  union,  which 
persons  do  then  enter  into  with  the  rest  of  the  body;  and 
as  they  are  confirmed  in  it  with  the  rest  of  the  body,  ac- 
cording as  they  make  use  of,  or  are  subjected  to,  one  or 
the  other  of  these  rites.     And  so  you  know  it  is  in  the 


Serm.  XI. 


REFERENCE  TO  THE  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH. 


595 


natural  body.  What  other  reason  can  we  render,  why  so 
many  parts  should  all  but  constitute  one  man  1  he  hath 
one  bond,  one  internal  living  bond,  one  soul.  If  there 
were  one  soul  in  one  part,  and  another  soul  in  another 
part;  one  soul  in  a  leg,  and  another  in  an  arm,  another 
in  an  eye,  and  another  in  an  ear;  then  it  would  not  be  one 
man,  but  many.  The  union  is  to  be  reduced  into  this,  that 
there  is  but  one  soul  as  a  consistent  standing  principle. 
For  the  parts  of  a  man's  body,  as  the  parts  of  a  church,  are 
in  a  continual  flux,  continually  pas.sing;  they  wear  and 
waste,  and  there  is  a  constant  succession  of  new  parts,  to 
make  up  the  pretermission  of  the  former  that  are  past 
awa}'  and  gone:  and  yet  there  is  but  one  man  still,  not- 
withstanding that  great  change  of  parts  in  the  several  suc- 
cessions of  time  in  his  life,  because  he  hath  still  but  one 
soul.  And  so  the  church  is  still  but  one  and  the  same 
thing,  because  it  hath  one  Spirit,  that  in  all  times  hath 
acted  uniformly  and  equally. 

7ihly,  It  appears  to  be  proper  to  the  Spirit  to  work  and 
maintain  such  a  union  as  this;  inasmuch  as  the  principal 
operation,  which  it  doth  exert  and  put  forth  as  the  chief 
and  main  work  which  it  doth,  doth  always  necessarily  im- 
ply this,  of  uniting  and  keeping  the  parts  of  the  body  uni- 
ted, as  a  secondary  and  consequential  work.  It  cannot  do 
its  priicipal  work,  but  it  must  do  this.  What  is  its  prin- 
cipal and  main  work  1  It  is,  (as  hath  been  intimated,)  unto 
the  church  of  Christ,  even  as  a  soul  unto  the  body.  And 
what  is  the  office  and  business  of  the  soul  to  the  body  1  It 
is  to  animate  the  body,  to  enliven  it  in  the  several  parts  of 
it :  but  that  it  could  never  do,  but  by  uniting  the  parts  and 
keeping  them  united.  You  know,  that  if  a  finger  or  a 
toe,  or  a  leg  or  an  arm,  be  cut  off  from  the  body,  the  soul 
enlivens  that  no  longer;  therefore  it  animates  it,  as  it 
keeps  it  united  with  the  body.  The  case  is  manifestly  thus 
here :  the  Spirit  of  God  keeps  the  body  alive,  and  all  the 
several  parts  of  the  body  which  it  animates,  by  holding 
them  together:  as  all  the  members  of  this  body  partake  of 
other  privileges  in  a  community,  as  the}'  belong  to  the 
body ;  as  for  instance,  that  of  peace,  and  that  communion 
which  it  includes  and  carries  in  it.  Ye  are  called  to  it, 
saith  the  apostle,  in  one  body,  Col.  iii.  14.  Ye  are  to  share 
and  partake  in  such  a  privilege,  a.s  being  all  of  a  piece,  all 
of  one  body:  called  in  one  body  to  this  great  commerce  of 
Christian  peace  and  communion.  You  know,  that  full 
peace  between  people  and  people,  nation  and  nation,  doth 
include  commerce.  So  we  may  say  of  life  too  ;  persons 
are  called  to  the  participation  of  life  all  in  one  body,  as, 
being  parts  of  that  body,  they  come  to  share  in  life.  The 
Spirit  doth  not  animate,  but  as  it  unites,  and  keeps  united, 
the  several  parts  which  it  animates ;  no  more  than  our 
soul  will  animate  any  part  of  our  body  that  is  once  sepa- 
rate from  it.  Now  this  plainly  argues  it  to  be  the  work  of 
the  Spirit  to  effect  and  maintain  this  union. 

8thly,  All  the  terms  of  this  union,  wherein  Christians  do 
meet,  are  such  whereunto  they  are  disposed  and  inclined 
by  this  Spirit.  You  have  these  terms  in  Eph.  iv.  4,  &c. 
The  apostle  had  said,  that  there  was  one  body  and  one 
Spirit.  Now  wherein  doih  this  Spirit  make  this  body  one  ■? 
Why,  even  as  ye  are  called  in  one  hope  of  your  calling; 
inasmuch  as  they  have  all  one  hope,  and  all  one  Lord,  and 
one  faith,  and  one  baptism,  and  one  God  and  Father  of 
them  all.  Now  it  is  manifest,  that  it  is  the  work  of  the 
Spirit  to  draw  and  dispose  the  hearts  of  Christians  to  meet 
in  these  common  terms.  As,  to  meet  in  this  as  a  common 
term,  in  one  hope,  one  blessedness  and  state  of  life.  You 
know  how  the  rest  of  the  world  are  divided  about  blessed- 
ness; one  places  his  confidence  in  this  sort  of  good,  and 
another  in  that  sort :  there  be  numbered  up  no  less  than 
two  hundred  and  eighty-eight  opinions  among  the  hea- 
thens heretofore  about  blessedness,  wherein  it  should  con- 
sist :  now  how  come  all  sincere  Christians  to  agree  in 
this,  to  hope  for  blessedness  all  in  one  thing,  in  that  state 
of  life  and  glory  that  is  hereafter  to  be  enjoyed ;  and  that 
all  in  all  times  of  the  world  should  have  met  in  the  same 
hope  1  All  this  must  be  owing  to  one  cause,  and  proceed 
from  one  principle.  The  rest  of  men  are  divided  ;  why 
are  they  united  in  this  hope  1  and  so,  as  to  the  rest,  if  we 
should  run  over  them.  They  have  all  one  Lord,  sincere- 
ly agree  to  be  subject  to  that  one  head ;  "  He  shall  rule 
over  us,  we  will  all  trust  him,  and  all  obey  him."     They 


have  all  one  faith  ;  are  all  of  one  religion  as  to  the  essen- 
tials and  main  of  it,  believe  all  the  same  substjintial  truths, 
and  all  by  one  and  the  same  sort  and  kind  of  faith ;  have 
the  same  object  of  faith  in  the  main,  and  the  same  sub- 
ject too  in  the  nature  and  kind  of  it.  They  have  all  one 
baptism;  which  is  not  to  be  understood  so  much  of  the 
signvm,  as  of  the  res  sigrutla,  what  is  signified  by  it,  that 
is,  the  covenant  and  agreement  that  passes  between  God 
and  them  that  are  baptized  with  his  Spirit;  unto  whom 
the  external  bapti.sm  comes  to  obtain  the  thing  which  is 
intended  to  be  signified  corresponding  in  them.  They  all 
agree  in  one  baptism,  all  come  under  one  title,  all  give 
up  and  devote  themselves  under  the  bond  of  God's  cove- 
nant alike,  and  in  one  and  the  same  covenant :  for  Gtod 
doth  not  make  one  covenant  with  one  person,  and  another 
covenant  with  another;  but  they  all  meet  in  the  same  co- 
venant. "  And  one  God  and  Father  of  all."  How  come 
they  all  to  have  this  one  God  and  Father  1  It  is  one  Spi- 
rit, that  disposes  and  forms  them  hereunto.  And  in  short, 
holiness,  real  substantial  goodness,  which  doth  some  way 
or  other  include  all  these,  as  meeting  in  every  one  of  them, 
and  so  uniting  them ;  all  sincere  Christians  meet  in  that. 
And  how  come  they  to  meet  in  itl  by  chance  "?  No,  cer- 
tainly ;  but  h}^  one  designing  cause,  that  works  them  all 
the  same  way.  That  .so  great  a  community,  sova.st  a  body 
as  the  Christians  of  all  times  and  ages,  the  peopleof  God, 
in  all  the  parts  of  the  world  and  in  all  times  of  it,  should 
all  meet  and  unite  in  so  many  things,  and  in  this  one 
thin?,  viz.  substantial  goodness  and  holiness,  must  need.5 
be  all  from  one  catise  :  they  being  things  too,  wherein  they 
cannot  be  supposed  to  agree  naturally;  for  naturally,  men 
are  most  disagreeing  and  repugnant  as  to  such  things  as 
these.  And  therefore  we  may  see,  (that  which  it  is  very 
remarkable  that  a  heathen  should  say,  speaking  of  concord 
in  a  city,)  "  That  there  can  be  no  concord  at  all  in  any 
thing,  if  there  be  not  some  common  notices,  wherein  per- 
sons shall  meet  and  agree.  So,  (speaking  in  reference  to 
common  and  ordinary  affairs,)  it  were  impossible  that  per- 
sons should  agree  about  the  numbers  of^  things,  if  there 
were  not  amongst  them  some  common  knowledge  about 
the  difference  of  numbers.  If  one  person  should  under- 
stand one  to  be  the  number  five,  and  another  should  un- 
derstand it  by  another  thing  ;  or  if  persons  could  not  ge- 
nerally understand  so  much  of  the  matter  of  number,  as 
to  distinguish  five  from  seven;  (one  number  from  another;) 
they  could  have  no  agreement  in  any  common  matter, 
wherein  number  was  concerned.  And  so,  saith  he,  If 
there  can  be  any  accord  about  things  that  come  under 
measure  :  it  is  to  be  supposed,  that  there  must  be  a  com- 
mon notice  among.st  all  such  persons,  so  far  as  to  under- 
stand the  difference  between  a  palm  and  a  cubit.  And  so 
there  will  be  no  agreement  in  things,  that  arc  of  greater 
concernment  to  the  good  of  a  city,  but  by  agreeing  in  this, 
that  all  agree  to  be  good  men :  they  cannot  be  good  citi- 
zens, without  being  good  men."  But  how  should  men  come 
to  be  so?  how  should  there  come  to  be  such  a  number  of 
men,  all  agreeing  in  one  thing  and  design,  to  be  all  lor  God 
in  a  world  that  is  revolted  and  apostatized  from  him?  It 
must  be  all  from  one  cau.se  and  principle.  It  is  one  and 
the  same  Spirit,  that  in  all  times  and  ages  works  and  dis- 
poses the  spirits  of  such  one  way  ;  so  as  that  you  may  ob- 
serve, that  in  all  times  there  have  been  amongst  Chris- 
tians the  same  complaints,  the  same  desires,  the  same  de- 
signs, they  have  had  the  same  sense  of  things.  Such  a 
uniformity,  a-^  doth  appear  even  in  the  several  successions 
of  time,  signifies,  that  there  is  one  common  unitive  prin- 
ciple, that  hath  obtained  amongst  them  all  in  all  times; 
and  so  accordingly,  that  such  a  union  must  needs  be  the 
proper  work  of  this  blessed  Spirit. 

Othly,  When  a  people  do  fall  off.  and  break  them- 
selves off  from  God,  (which  they  never  do.  but  as  this  Spi- 
rit departs  and  leaves  them,)  according  to  that  degree 
wherein  they  do  so,  they  are  brt>ken  off  iVom  one  another, 
broken  asun.ler  amongst  themselves.  This  we  have  em- 
blematicallv  represented  in  Zech.  xi.  by  the  two  <5taves  of 
Beauty  and  Bands.  When  one  of  them,  the  staff  of  Beauty, 
was  broken,  (that  was  the  representation  of  the  union  that 
was  between  Grod  and  them.')  next  the  staff  of  Bands  is 
presentlv  broken,  (which  was  the  representation  of  the 
union  between  Judah  and  Israel,  of  the  people  amongst 


596 


TflE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT  IN 


Sebm.  XII. 


themselves,)  ver.  10,  11, 14.  When  God  saith,  Loammi, 
ye  shall  be  my  people  no  more :  then  the  consequence  is 
this,  they  cease  to  be  a  people  ;  they  are  no  more  one  peo- 
ple, when  they  cease  to  be  his.  The  case  is  not  so  with 
those  who  have  professed  visible  relation  to  God,  as  with 
the  rest  of  the  world,  in  this  thing.  Others  make  shift  to 
subsist  and  live  without  God,  that  is,  they  gain  flourishing 
kingdoms  and  commonwealths  and  cities;  and  it  may  be, 
a  people  professing  the  name  of  God  may  expect  to  have 
it  so  with  them  too,  if  God  should  depart  from  them :  but 
his  presence  is  a  soul  among  such  a  people ;  "  Be  instruct- 
ed, lest  my  soul  depart  from  you :"  and  if  a  man's  soul  go 
from  him,  he  doth  not  then  become  a  creature  of  the  next 
inferior  rank,  a  beast,  but  a  carcass.  If  this  soul  depart 
from  a  people  professing  relation  to  God,  (as  there  is  a 
divine  presence  that  is  larger  than  the  most  special  pre- 
sence, and  yet  more  restrained  than  the  general  presence 
that  he  affords  to  men  as  men,)  they  do  not  then  become 
like  another  people,  but  they  become  no  people.  Be  in- 
structed, O  Jerusalem,  lest  my  soul  depart  from  thee:  lest 
thou  become  desolate,  a  land  not  inhabited,  Jer.  vi.  8. 
They  may  think,  it  may  be,  that  it  will  be  with  them  as 
with  other  nations,  when  God  is  gone:  but  see  what  a  re- 
buke any  such  hope  meets  with,  in  Hos.  ix.  1.  Rejoice 
not,  O  Israel,  for  joy,  as  other  people  ;  for  thou  hast  gone 
a  whoring  from  thy  God,  &c.  The  case  will  not  be  with 
you  as  with  other  people ;  you  have  forsaken  your  God, 
torn  yourselves  off"  from  him.  When  the  staff"  of  Beauty 
is  broken,  the  staff"  of  Bands  is  broken  too ;  and  such  a 
people  as  fall  off' from  God,  fall  asunder  :  that  it  comes  to 
at  last;  as  the  body  of  a  man,  when  the  soul  is  gone,  dis- 
solves and  turns  to  dust. 

lOthly.  In  the  time  of  the  revival  of  the  church  from  un- 
der the  state  of  death  they  have  been  in  ;  when  God  so 
revives  it,  he  unites  it  part  to  part.  How  clearly  have  you 
this  represented  in  vision  after  vision,  in  the  whole  37th 
chapter  of  Ezekiel!  When  the  Spirit  of  life  entered  into 
those  dry  and  dead  bones,  when  he  breathed  upon  them 
and  made  them  live,  he  made  them  one,  he  made  them  a 
great  army,  ver.  10.  And  the  next  thing  that  you  hear  of 
is,  this  people's  being  made  one  stick  in  God's  hand  ;  Ju- 
dah  and  Israel  one  stick,  united  with  one  another ;  and  in 
God's  hand,  to  signify  him  to  be  the  centre  of  that  union, 
ver.  19.  When  there  is  a  recovery  of  the  church  out  of  a 
lapsed,  apostatized  state,  out  of  that  death  that  hath  been 
upon  it,  then  also  part  comes  to  part ;  as  there  the  bones 
came  together,  and  flesh,  and  sinews;  and  so  every  thing 
falls  into  its  own  place  and  order  in  each  particular  body, 
and  all  these  bodies  into  such  an  order,  as  to  make  one 
collective  and  well-formed  body.  And  so  it  is  very  plain 
too,  that  when  God  doth  design  to  bring  that  stale  of 
things  about  in  his  church,  as  that  he  will  now  have  his 
covenant  with  them  to  obtain  everlastingly,  so  as  never 
more  to  turn  away  from  doing  them  good;  then  he  hath 
promised  that  he  will  give  them  one  heart  and  one  way. 
Even  at  the  same  time,  when  he  comes  to  be  more  visibly 
and  eminently  in  the  view  of  the  world  engaged  to  such  a 
people  as  their  God,  and  to  have  taken  them  exemptly 
from  all  other  people  to  be  his  people;  when  this  comes  to 
be  more  explicit  and  notorious,  so  that  all  the  world  may 
take  notice  of  it,  and  so  that  he  will  dwell  with  them,  and 
be  visibly  present  amongst  them,  have  his  glory  amidst 
them,  and  not  cease  to  do  them  good  ;  (so  these  things  are 
expressed,  Jer.  xxxii.  37 — 41.)  at  the  .same  time  he  gives 
them  one  heart  and  one  way,  so  as  that  they  are  no  more 
a  rent,  and  torn,  and  shattered  people,  but  all  one,  all 
agreeing  about  the  very  way  of  their  walking  with  God 
according  to  that  relation  wherein  they  stand  to  him. 

All  these  things  do  evidence,  that  such  a  union  is  the 
proper  work  of  the  Spirit ;  and  that  when  it  shall  be  poured 
forth  generally  and  copiously,  then  this  union  shall  obtain 
in  a  very  great  and  visible  glory.  I  should  af\er  all  this 
speak  a  little  more  particularly  to  a  twofold  inquiry  con- 
cerning this  union  ;  but  of  that  hereafter. 

From  what  hath  thus  far  been  said  we  may  take  notice, 
that  our  own  divisions  are  a  very  sad  argument  to  us,  that 
the  Spirit  is  in  a  great  measure  retired  and  withdrawn ; 
that  little  of  the  Spirit  is  working  amongst  Christians  in 
our  time-,  in  comparison  of  what  hath  been,  and  in  com- 
*  Preached  September  25th,  1678, 


parison  of  what  we  may  hope  will  yet  be.  But  it  is 
grievous,  whatsoever  hath  been,  whatsoever  shall  be,  that 
it  is  our  lot  to  be  in  such  a  time,  when  there  should  be  such 
a  gloomy  overcast  upon  the  glory  of  the  Christian  church 
in  this  respect.  What  we  see  and  what  we  hear  of  that 
distance  and  disunion  amongst  Christians,  is  a  sad  argu- 
ment, that  the  church  is  in  a  dismal  lapse,  the  Spirit  of 
God  is  in  a  great  measure  gone  from  amongst  us,  life  re- 
tired and  gone.  If  it  Avere  amongst  us  to  enliven,  it  would 
be  amongst  us  to  unite. 


SERMON  XII.* 

That  which  we  have  been  upon  in  the  last  discourse, 
was — that  union  amongst  them  that  own  and  bear  the 
Christian  name,  we  may  reckon,  will  be  one  great  eff"ect 
of  the  Spirit  poured  forth  ;  upon  which  the  happiness  of 
the  church  will  greatly  depend. — Two  things  have  already 
been  spoken  to  upon  this  head: — 1.  That  such  a  union  is 
of  great  concernment  to  the  happiness  and  prosperity  of 
the  church :  and — 2.  That  it  is  the  proper  work  of  the 
Spirit  of  God  to  efi"ect  it  ;  and  consequently,  that  when 
that  Spirit  shall  be  generally  poured  forth,  such  a  union 
cannot  but  generally  obtain. 

There  are  two  further  inquiries,  which  it  will  be  requi- 
site we  somewhat  insist  upon  relating  to  this  matter: — 1. 
What  kind  of  union  this  shall  be,  which  we  may  expect 
the  Spirit  poured  forth  to  accomplish : — 2.  In  what  way 
we  may  expect  the  Spirit  to  accomplish  it. 

1.  What  kind  of  union  we  may  expect  it  to  be. 

And  we  may  expect  it  shall  be  such  in  the  general,  as 
wherein  the  duty  and  happiness  of  the  Christian  church 
shall  in  very  great  measure  consist ;  such  as  is  required  as 
matter  of  duty,  and  promised  as  matter  of  gift;  and  which 
will  contribute  much  to  the  church's  felicity.  But  inas- 
much as  we  neither  expect  the  church  of  God  on  earth  to 
be  perfectly  sinless,  nor  perfectly  happy ;  therefore  we 
cannot  expect  this  union  to  be  perfect :  nor  therefore  can 
we  suppose  any  such  things  requisite  to  it,  as  must  be 
thought  requisite  unto  a  perfect  union.  We  cannot  think 
it  necessary,  that  this  Spirit  poured  forth  should  be,  as 
poured  forth  or  communicated,  an  infallible  Spirit  in  or- 
der thereto,  when  it  comes  to  be  amongst  men  or  in  them ; 
which  you  know  some  have  thought  very  necessary  in  or- 
der to  anj'  union  in  the  church  of  God;  but  have  pretend- 
ed highly  to  it,  without  being  able  to  agree  where  to  fix 
the  seat  of  the  spirit  of  infallibility  they  pretend  to  have 
amongst  them.  And  since  a  union  and  agreement  in  ho- 
liness is  as  necessary  for  the  church  of  God,  as  in  truth; 
one  would  think  there  should  have  been  as  much  pretence 
to  an  impeccable  spirit  as  to  an  infallible,  and  every  whit 
for  as  valuable  reason  :  but  they  have  been  ashamed  to 
pretend  to  the  former,  whilst  the  pretenders  have  been 
so  notoriously  vicious  and  vile  in  the  view  of  all  the  world. 
And  certainly,  if  there  were  an  infallible  spirit  amongst 
such  men,  we  may  justly  say  it  did  male  hahitare,  it  was 
ill-lodged  and  unfitly  in  the  midst  of  so  horrid  impurities; 
and  did  no  more  become  them,  than  a  jewel  of  gold  a 
swine's  snout.  But  that  we  may  be  a  little  more  particu- 
lar here,  we  shall  briefly  show, — 1st,  What  a  union  we 
are  not  to  expect : — 2dly,  What  union  there  already  is 
amongst  all  living  Christians:  and — 3dly,  What  union  we 
are  further  to  look  and  hope  for. 

1st,  What  union  we  are  not  to  expect. 

1.  Not  .such,  as  that  all  .shall  agree  in  the  same  measure 
of  knowledge  ;  and  consequently,  that  there  will  not  be 
an  idenity  and  sameness  of  apprehension  throughout  in 
all  things ;  for  then  there  must  be  the  same  measure  of 
knowledge.  There  is  no  man,  that  thinks  differently  from 
another  man,  but  he  thinks  so  diff"erently  either  truly  or 
falsely;  and  wherever  the  falsity  lies,  on  the  one  hand  or 
the  other,  there  lies  so  much  ignorance  :  but  it  is  never  to 
be  thought,  that  all  will  have  just  the  same  measure  of 
knowledge. 

2.  Nor  can  we  reasonably  expect  an  agreement  with  all 


Serm.  XII. 


REFERENCE  TO  THE  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH. 


6d7 


in  the  same  pitch  of  holiness;  that  aJl  will  be  holy  alike; 
no  one  more  holy,  more  spiritual,  more  heavenly  than 
another. 

3.  Nor  are  we  to  expect,  that  all  should  agree  in  the 
same  measure  of  joy  or  consolation  ;  ihat  there  should  be 
the  same  sensations  of  divine  pleasure  in  all,  the  same 
pleasant  motions  of  holy  and  spiritual  affections  ;  which, 
be  they  as  holy  and  spiritual  as  they  will,  yet  must  also 
be  complexional  in  a  degree,  and  depend  much  even  upon 
the  bodily  temper,  wherein  no  man  can  think  that  all  shall 
ever  agree. 

4.  Nor  can  there  be  such  a  union,  as  shall  infer,  that  all 
must  be  of  the  same  rank  and  order,  the  same  station  and 
use  in  the  church  of  God :  which  indeed  would  not  belong 
to  the  perfection  of  union,  but  imperfection;  it  would  be 
confusion,  instead  of  regular  and  perfect  union.  Such 
kind  of  union  we  are  not  to  expect.  And  it  is  to  be  con- 
sidered further  in  reference  to  this  matter, 

2ndly,  What  kind  of  union  there  already  is.  And  cer- 
tainly some  union  there  is  among  all  these  that  are  sin- 
cere and  living  Christians;  such  I  chiefly  intend  as  the 
subject  of  the  union,  whereof  I  am  discoursing.  And 
there  is,  and  cannot  but  be  amongst  all  such,  a  union  in 
those  great  and  substantial  things,  which  we  have  already 
had  occasion  to  take  notice  of,  in  Eph.  iv.  3,  4.  They  are 
all  one  body,  one  living,  aiiimated  body,  by  one  and  the 
same  Spirit.  They  have  all  one  hope  of  iheir  calling,  one 
happiness  and  end  ;  one  Lord,  one  faith ;  they  are  all  sub- 
stantially of  one  religion ;  one  baptism,  meaning  by  that 
(as  hath  been  noted)  not  so  much  the  sis^num,  as  the  signa- 
tum  ;  they  are  all  comprehended  within  the  bond  of  the 
same  covenant  of  life  and  peace.  They  have  all  one  God 
the  Father  of  all,  who  is  of  all,  and  in  all,  and  through 
all. 

And,  which  sums  up  all  this,  one  way  or  another,  they 
are  all  united  in  one  common  head.  The  apostle,  speaking 
of  Christ,  says,  He  is  the  head  of  the  body,  the  church, 
Col.  i.  18.  And  to  the  same  purpose,  in  Eph.  i.  22,  23. 
And  by  virtue  of  that  union  they  have  with  Christ  the  Me- 
diator, the  head  of  the  church,  it  comes  to  pass,  that  they 
dp  unite  and  agree  besides  in  all  the  other  things  that  were 
mentioned.  They  are  all  of  his  body.  It  is  from  him  they 
all  partake  of  that  one  and  the  same  Spirit.  It  is  he  that 
hath  opened  heaven  to  them,  given  them  a  prospect  of  an 
eternal  blessed  state,  brought  life  and  immortality  to  light 
before  their  eyes;  the)'  are  called  by  him  in  that  one  hope 
of  their  calling.  It  is  a  revelation  from  God  by  him,  that 
is  the  matter  of  their  common  faith.  He  is  the  Mediator 
of  that  covenant,  that  comprehends  them  all.  It  is  he  that 
reduces  and  restores  and  reunites  them  to  God,  and  sets 
all  things  right  between  him  and  them.  Therefore  herein 
is  the  sum  of  their  union,  that  they  have  all  one  Head, 
■wherein  they  are  united. 

And  this  their  common  Head  is  not  only  a  political,  but 
a  vital  Head  ;  as  is  apparently  enough  represented  in  those 
most  emphatical  expressions,  Eph.  iv.  15,  18.  where  the 
metaphor  is  distinctly  pursued  of  a  union  between  the 
head  and  the  body:  That  speaking  the  truth  in  love,  we 
may  srrow  up  into  him  in  all  things,  which  is  the  head, 
even  Christ ;  from  whom  the  whole  body  fitly  joined  to- 
gether and  compacted,  by  that  which  every  joint  supplieth, 
according  to  the  effectual  working  in  the  measure  of  every 
part,  maketh  increase  of  the  body  unto  the  edifying  of  it- 
self in  love.  With  which  agrees  that  in  Col.  i.  18.  He 
is  the  head  of  ihe  body,  the  church,  who  is  the  beginning, 
the  first-born  from  the  dead,  &c.  And  that  in  chap.  ii.  19. 
Not  holding  the  head,  from  which  all  the  body  by  joints 
and  bands  having  nourishment  ministered,  and  knit  to- 
gether, increaseth  with  the  increase  of  God,  All  these 
expressions  speak  a  vital  imion,  such  as  every  member  in 
the  body  hath  with  the  head,  being  by  proper  ligaments 
jointed  into  its  own  place,  and  so  connected  with  those 
that  finally  and  ultimately  have  more  immediate  connec- 
tion with  the  head ;  from  whence  there  are  those  several 
ductus,  those  conveyances  of  spirits,  by  which  the  head 
doth  become  a  fountain  of  directive  and  motive  indnence 
imto  the  whole  body.  And  so  is  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
unto  the  church  a  fountain  both  of  directive  and  motive 
influence,  of  light  and  life. 

He  is  a  Fountain  of  light  to  all  true  Christians.  For 
42 


every  beam  of  true  light  is  a  ray  from  that  Sun  of  righte- 
ousness, shines  from  and  through  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
We  are  under  a  dispensation,  wherein  the  Father  speaks 
to  us  by  his  Son,  who  is  the  brightness  of  his  glorj'  and 
the  express  image  of  his  person,  Heb.  i.  2,  3.  Thi^s  world 
were  universally  a  region  of  nothing  else  but  pure  mere 
darkness,  were  it  not  for  him,  the  light  that  lighteneth 
every  one  that  cometh  into  the  world,  according  to  the  se- 
veral variations  and  degrees  and  kinds  of  light  that  shine 
here  and  there.     And, 

He  is  also  a  fountain  of  life  and  vital  influence.  That 
very  light  is  vital  light,  the  light  of  life.  The  life  was  the 
light  of  men,  John  i.  4.  And  for  all  that  have  real  union 
with  him,  it  is  becau.se  he  lives  that  they  live  also. 

Herein  therefore  they  have  union  with  this  Head.  They 
all  participate  together  in  the  light  of  divine  truth,  where- 
of he  hath  been  the  teacher  ;  of  all  that  saving  wisdom  and 
knowledge  that  is  trea-ured  up  in  him.  In  him  are  hid 
all  the  treasures  of  wisdom  and  knowledge.  Col.  ii.  3. 
And  all  that  are  really  of  his  body,  unite  and  meet  in  a 
participation  of  necessary  light  and'  knowledge  from  him  ; 
they  partake  according  to  their  mea.sure  of  necessary  truth 
fiom  that  Fountain,  so  much  as  is  essential  unto  the'Chris- 
tian  religion,  and  necessarily  concurs  unto  the  constituting 
of  that.  And  they  all  agree  in  the  participation  of  motive 
and  active  influence  from  him,  for  the  performance  of  all 
the  essentially  necessary  duties  and  exercises  that  do  be- 
long to  the  Christian  life.  Such  a  union  there  is  amonest 
all  sincere  Christians.  This  is  implied  in  ,ne  expression 
of  holding  the  head  before  mentioned.  They  truly  hold 
the  head,  who  are  so  united  to  it,  as  that  by  virtue  of  that 
union  they  receive  and  derive  thence  the  knowledge  and 
perception  of  all  essentially  requisite  truth,  and  that  life 
and  power  that  is  also  requisite  to  the  duty  that  lies  upoa 
Christians  as  such. 

There  hat'h  been  a  great  deal  of  controversy,  between 
the  reformed  and  those  of  the  Roman  church, "about  that 
distinction  of  the  essentials  and  extra-essentials  of  Christi- 
anity. But  let  men  cavil  as  long  as  they  will,  it  would 
manifestly  be  the  most  absurd  thing  in  all  the  world  to 
deny  the  distinction  ;  for  if  any  would  deny  it,  I  would 
inquire  of  them;  Which  part  of  the  distinction  is  it,  that 
you  would  deny  ]  Would  you  deny,  that  there  are  essential 
parts  of  Christianity?  or  else,  that  there  are  extra -es.-eniial 
parts  1  If  the  distinction  be  not  good,  one  of  these  parts 
must  be  denied.  But  if  any  would  say,  there  are  no 
essential  parts;  that  would  be  to  say,  that  the  Christian  re- 
ligion hath  no  being ;  for  certainly  that  is  nothing,  unto 
which  nothing  is  essential.  And  to  say,  that  there  are  no 
extra-essential  parts,  is  to  say,  that  a  man  cannot  be  a 
Christian  unlers  he  knows  every  thing  of  truth,  and  unless 
he  punctually  do  every  thing  of  duty,  whether  he  Imow  it 
or  not;  then  a  man  could  not  be  a  Christian  unless  he  did 
certainly  know  the  meaning  of  the  number  "six  hundred 
sixty-six,"  and  a  thousand  difficult  passages  beside^  up 
and  down  the  Scripture.  So  that  in  effect,  to  deny  tlie 
distinction  of  essential  and  extra-essential  parts  in  Chris- 
tianity, or  of  it.  must  either  be  to  deny  that  there  is  any 
such  thing  as  Christianity,  or  that  there  is  any  such  ihmg 
as  a  Christian;  if  there  be  no  essential  parts,  Christianity 
is  nothing  ;  lor  that  is  nothing  to  which  nothing  is  essen- 
tial ;  and  if  there  be  none  extra-essential,  then  there  are  no 
Christians;  for  certainly  there  is  no  man,  that  knows  and 
does  every  thing  that  belongs  to  the  Christian  religion. 
But  that  there  are  essential  parts,  and  therefore  extra-essen- 
tial too,  is  most  evident ;  and  which  the  essential  parts  be, 
in  contradistinction  to  all  others,  is  not  obscurely  intima- 
ted to  us  in  the  Scripture  itself,  in  such  sumir.as  of  Chris- 
tian doctrine  and  practice,  as  we  have  pointed  to  us  here 
and  there  in  some  remarkable  texts.  As,  when  we  are 
told,  1  Cor,  viii,  G,  To  us  there  is  but  one  God.  the  Fa- 
ther, of  whom  are  all  things,  and  we  in  him :  and  one  Lord 
Jesus  Chris>f,  by  whom  are  all  things,  and  we  by  him. 
Where  we  have  the  great  objects  upon  which  religion 
terminates  ;  God  considered  as  God,  the  end  ;  and  Christ 
the  mediator,  the  way  to  that  end.  And  then  we  are  not 
without  what  is  summary  too  of  the  acts  to  be  done  in  re- 
ference to  those  objects.  The  apostle,  speaking  of  the 
course  he  had  taken  in  unfolding  the  mysteries  of  the 
Gospel,  resolves  all  into  this  sum  ;  he  had  been  testifying 


5'J8 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT  IN 


Sehm.  XII. 


both  to  Jews  and  Greeks  repentance  towards  God,  and  faith 
toward  our  Lord  Jesns  Christ,  Acts  xx.  21.  Which  are 
such  acta  or  parts  of  Christian  practice,  as  belong  to  the 
inchoation  of  the  Christian  course  at  first,  and  then  to  be 
continued  afterwards  through  it ;  but  so  as  to  comprehend 
many  particulars  of  practice  besides;  whereof  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  gives  us  another  summary,  Matt.  xxii.  37, 
&c.  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart, 
and  with  all  ihy  soul,  and  with  all  thy  mind.  And,  thou 
shalt  love  thy  neighbour  as  thyself.  On  these  two  com- 
mandments, saith  he,  hang  all  the  law  and  the  prophets. 
And  indeed  you  have  objects  and  acts  implicitly  compre- 
hended together  in  that  great  summary,  that  is  expres.sive 
of  the  faith,  into  which  Chri.st  directed  his  apostles  to  pro- 
selyte all  nations  into  which  they  were  to  baptize  them ;  that 
is,  into  the  name  of  the  Father  and  of  the  Son  and  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,  Matt,  xxviii.  19.  Where  the  Father  is  to  be 
considered  as  the  end,  the  Son  as  the  way,  and  the  Spirit 
as  the  great  principle  to  move  souls  towards  that  end 
through  that  way.  Now  there  are  none,  that  are  sincere 
and  living  Christians,  but  do  and  must  unite  in  such  things 
as  these,  these  great  essentials  and  substantial  of  the  Chris- 
tian religion. 

But  it  may  now  be  said ;  If  there  be  so  much  union 
amongst  all  Christians  already  in  these  so  great  and  sub- 
stantial things,  what  further  union  must  we  look  fori 
which  was  the  third  thing  we  proposed  to  speak  to  upon 
this  head  ; 

3dly,  What  further  union  wc  are  yet  to  expect  and  hope 
for.  And  it  must  be  acknowledged,  and  ought  to  be 
lamented,  that  there  is  all  this  union  with  very  much  dis- 
union ;  such  disunion,  that  is  in  a  high  degree  dishonour- 
able to  God,  scandalous  to  the  world,  and  uncomfortable  to 
the  Christian  community  within  itself.  You  well  know, 
that  there  may  be  one  house  standing  upon  one  foundation; 
and  yet  miserably  shattered,  ill-supported,  ill-covered. 
There  may  be  one  large  family,  all  under  one  family- 
governor  ;  and  yet  many  sidings  and  contentions  in  it, 
many  parties,  and  part-takings  this  way  and  that.  The 
like  may  be  said  of  a  city,  a  kingdom,  an  army,  or  any  such 
aggregate  body.  The  like  maybe  said  even  of  a  man  him- 
self, that  hath, while  he  is  a  man,  several  parts  united  in  him ; 
but  yet  this  living  man  may  be  sick,  very  sick,  and  even 
nigh  to  death,  in  a  most  languishing  state  ;  soul  and  body 
still  united,  and  several  parts  in  the  body  still  united  with 
one  another ;  but  it  may  be  some  dying,  some  dead,  all 
languishing  at  least ;  and,  as  the  case  is  in  some  diseases, 
one  member  falling  foul  upon  another,  the  man  beating, 
hurting,  wounding  himself:  the  parts  are  still  in  union; 
but  this  is  a  union  very  remote  from  what  belongs  to  a 
sound,  sober,  healthy  man,  in  good  plight  every  way.  And 
so  the  matter  is  with  the  Christian  church  too.  We  do 
acknowledge  such  a  union  in  all  the  fore-mentioned  things, 
in  all  things  of  that  nature  ;  but  it  is  with  a  most  scandal- 
ous and  pernicious  disunion.  We  do  not  think  that  the 
Spirit  of  God  hath  totally  forsaken  the  Christian  church; 
but  it  is  plain,  it  is  miserably  languishing  and  next  to 
death ;  according  to  the  import  of  that  expression  to  the 
Sardian  church.  Rev.  iii.  2.  Strengthen  the  things  that 
remain,  that  are  ready  to  die.  There  is  truth,  but  wrapt 
up  in  obscurity,  and  held  in  unrighteousness ;  as  is  too 
obvious  to  common  observation.  And  therefore  it  is  an- 
other sort  of  union  than  this  is,  in  respect  of  the  degree 
and  perfection  of  it,  that  we  are  yet  to  look  for ;  and  which 
certainly  the  Spirit,  when  poured  forth  copiously  and 
generally,  (as  we  are  encouraged  to  hope  it  will  be,)  will 
effect  and  bring  about.  This  union,  which  we  are  to  ex- 
pect, (as  indeed  the  union,  which  already  we  have  in  nature 
and  kind,)  is  to  be  both  intellectual  and  cordial.  We  are 
to  expect  an  improvement  of  it  unto  a  much  higher  degree 
in  both  these  kinds,  a  higher  union  both  of  judgment  and 
love. 

1.  A  much  higher  intellectual  union,  than  we  hitherto 
find  ;  a  nearer  union,  and  agreement  in  mind  and  judg- 
ment amongst  Christians.  And  it  is  very  unreasonable 
not  to  expect  it,  when  we  consider  how  plain  and  express 
the  charge  is  concerning  that  kind  of  union  ;  it  is  very 
unreasonable  to  think,  that  the  people  of  God,  the  commu- 
nity of  Christians,  shall  be  always  in  .so  notorious  a  dis- 
crepancy from  their  rule,  even  in  this  particular  case.  See 


the  .solemnity  of  that  charge,  in  1  Cor.  i.  10.  Nom'  I  be- 
seech you,  brethren,  by  the  name  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
that  ye  all  speak  the  same  thing,  and  that  there  be  no  di- 
visions among  you ;  but  that  ye  be  perfectly  joined  together 
in  the  same  mind  and  in  the  same  judgment.  Do  we  think 
the  Christian  community  shall  be  never  nearer  the  rule  in 
this  casr,  than  it  isl  We  have  reason  to  expect  it  shall; 
and  especially  since  we  find  it  is  so  expressly  foretold,  that 
in  the  latter  days  (which  this  discourse-we  have  in  hand 
hath  reference  to)  one  heart  shall  be  given,  and  one  way, 
Jer.  xxxii.  39.  Certainly  there  shall  be  so  much  agreement 
in  minds  and  judgments,  as  shall  lead  the  people  of  God 
all  into  one  way ;  for  such  a  word  cannot  fall  to  the  ground, 
and  is  not  put  into  the  Bible  to  stand  for  a  cipher  theie. 
And  we  have  it  expressly  promised,  that  of  them  that  are 
all  intent  to  press  forward  towards  the  same  mark,  and 
wherein  they  have  attained,  to  do  all  to  their  uttermost  to 
walk  by  the  same  rule ;  if  in  any  thing  they  be  otherwise 
minded,  God  shall  reveal  this  to  them,  Phil.  iii.  15,  16.  It 
is  also  expressly  promised  by  our  Loid  Christ  himself, 
that  they  that  will  do  his  will,  shall  know  the  doctrine  whe- 
ther it  be  of  God,  yea  or  no,  John  vii.  17.  Certainly,  when 
the  Spirit  comes  to  be  so  copiously  and  generally  poured 
forth,  men  will  be  attempered  more  to  the  will  of  God; 
there  will  be  more  earnest  minding  and  endeax'ouring  to 
do  his  will;  self-will  will  not  be  the  common  rule  and 
law  amongst  those  that  bear  the  name  of  Christians,  as 
now  it  is;  and  upon  this  is  that  great  promise  grounded; 
all  that  is  required,  is,  "  If  any  man  will  do  his  will,  he 
shall  know  his  doctrine."  There  is  no  so  necessary  and 
certain  qualification  for  the  knowledge  of  divine  truth,  as 
sincerity;  when  men  do  inquire  for  truth,  not  to  gratify 
curiosity,  not  to  serve  an  interest,  not  to  keep  up  a  party, 
not  to  promote  a  base  design  ;  but  with  sincere  hearts,  that 
they  may  understand  what  the  good  and  acceptable  will  of 
the  Lord  is.  They  that  are  intent  upon  this,  our  Lord 
Chriist  will  not  fail  them,  nor  break  his  promise,  that  such 
who  will  do  his  will,  shall  know  the  doctrine.  There  is  a 
peculiar  gust  and  relish,  which  the  truth  that  is  after  god- 
liness always  carries  in  it  to  persons  that  are  alive  and 
well,  and  that  have  their  senses  exercised  to  discern  be- 
tween good  and  evil.  Cannot  my  taste  discern  perverse 
things'?  saith  Job,  chap.  vi.  30.  Has  not  a  lively  Chris- 
tian a  taste  to  discern  some  things  that  are  obstructive  and 
destructive  to  the  Christian  religion  and  trie  Christian  in- 
terest in  the  world  1  a  person  alive,  and  with  senses  exer- 
cised, will  taste  it  out;  even  as  the  new-born  babe  desires 
sincere  milk,  while  it  would  refuse  that  which  is  corrupt 
and  mixed  with  any  thing  ungrateful.  Herein  we  are  to 
expect  much  more  of  an  intellectual  union,  or  union  in 
judgment  concerning  the  great  truths  of  God. 

2.  A  much  nearer  and  more  inward  cordial  union,  a 
union  of  love.  When  the  Spirit  was  more  eminently 
poured  forth  upon  Christ's  ascension,  see  how  it  was  with 
Christians  in  that  respect.  Acts  ii.  46.  They  continued 
daily  with  one  accord  in  the  temple.  Our  translation  ren- 
ders it  too  faintly;  i/(o0u//a(5di',  they  met  together  all  with 
one  mind:  so  the  expression  literally  signifies.  And  chap, 
iv.  32.  it  is  said,  that  believers  were  all  of  one  heart  and 

one  soul  ;    tS  irXfiOai  TMV  Tri^evcrdvTojv  riv  r)  KapRia  kuX  >)  ip^y'l  f"'") 

Of  the  multitude  that  believed  there  was  but  one  heart  and 
sntd;  as  if  they  were  a  community,  all  acted  and  anima- 
ted by  one  soul.  However  unlike  itself  the  church  ol  God 
is  grown  in  a  long  tract  of  time,  the  Spirit  of  God  is  not 
grown  unlike  itself;  and  therefore  when  it  comes  to  be 
poured  forth  as  it  hath  been,  it  will  still  act  as  it  hath 
done,  uniformly  and  agreeably  to  itself;  and  make  them, 
that  now  are  many  parties,  divided  and  shattered,  broken 
this  way  and  that,  all  one  entire  piece.  How  passionately 
longing  do  the  apostle's  expressions  import  him  to  be,  in 
reference  to  this  one  thing,  that  is,  the  union  composed  of 
the  two  things  I  have  mentioned,  of  a  union  in  mind  and 
judgment,  and  of  a  closure  in  heart  and  love,  in  Col.  ii.  1, 
2.  I  would,  that  ye  knew  what  great  conflict  I  have  for 
you  and  for  them  at  Laodicea,  and  for  as  many  as  have 
not  seen  my  face  in  the  flesh;  that  their  hearts  might  be 
comforted,  being  knit  together  in  love,  and  unto  all  the 
riches  of  the  full  a.ssurance  of  understanding,  to  the  ac- 
knowledgment of  the  mystery  of  God,  and  of  the  Father, 
and  of  Christ.     This  is  the  union  that  he  covets  ;  and  w** 


I 


Seiim.  XIII. 


REFERENCE  TO  THE  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH. 


599 


must  know,  that  that  Spirit,  who  is  to  be  the  author  of  this 
union,  was  no  doubt  the  author  of  these  very  desires  and 
longings  of  the  apostle's  soul  about  it ;  it  acts  agreeably  to 
itself.  He  desired  and  longed  so  earnestly  for  this,  that 
they  might  be  knit  together  both  in  love  and  undenstand- 
ing,  to  the  acknowledgment  of  the  mystery  of  God,  both 
the  Father  and  the  Sun.  And  what  have  there  been,  even 
from  the  dictate  and  direction  of  the  Spirit,  .so  earnest 
longings  for  1  Why,  though  so  long  before,  we  are  to  ac- 
count these  very  longings  to  be  the  earnest  of  these  things 
desired,  and  so  to  expect  that  whereof  they  are  the  earnest. 

We  thus  far  see,  what  union  we  are  not  to  expect,  what 
already  is,  and  what  we  are  to  expect  and  look  lor  further 
than  yet  there  is,  or  than  j'et  we  see. 

Upon  all  this,  while  as  yet  we  behold  so  little  of  so  de- 
sirable a  thing,  we  have  reason  to  account  that  it  is  with 
the  church  of  God  a  time  of  his  hiding  his  face,  and  of  the 
restraint  of  his  Spirit.  I  will  no  more  hide  my  face,  I  will 
pour  out  my  Spirit.  While  the  Spirit  is  not  poured  forth, 
even  with  reference  to  this  bles.sed  end  and  work  ;  this  is 
the  notion  which  we  ought  to  have  concerning  the  present 
state  of  the  Christian  church;  it  is  a  time  of  God's  hiding 
his  face  from  them  ;  the  bright  and  glorious  face,  that  hath 
shone  upon  it  sometimes,  and  that  we  are  to  expect  should 
shine,  is  yet  obscured  and  hid.  And  what  should  our 
posture  be  upon  that  account  1  while  we  must  reckon  this 
the  common  state  and  case  of  the  Christian  church  at  this 
day  ;  in  what  posture  should  our  souls  be  1     And  surely, 

1.  It  ought  to  be  a  very  mournful  pOsture.  How  hath 
he  covered  with  a  cloud  in  his  anger  the  daughter  of  his 
people !  how  is  her  glory  confounded  !  When  he  did  de- 
cline to  go  with  the  people  of  Israel  further  on  in  their 
way  towards  Canaan,  saying,  I  will  send  an  angel  before 
thee,  and  I  will  drive  out  the  Canaanite,  the  Amorite,  &c. 
He  shall  destroy  them  for  you.  "  But  I  will  not  go  up  in 
the  midst  of  thee,  I  will  not  go  with  you  any  further."  The 
people,  it  is  said,  when  they  heard  these  evil  tidings, 
mourned,  and  no  man  did  put  on  him  his  ornaments, 
Exod.  xxxiii.  2,  3,  4.  It  is  a  mourning  time,  when  the 
bridegroom  is  withdrawn :  and  there  is  no  sadder  token 
that  he  is  withdrawn,  than  to  behold  the  confusions  which 
have  ensued  in  his  absence. 

2.  It  ought  to  be  an  expecting,  a  waiting  posture.  Sure 
this  dark  and  gloomy  night  will  be  succeeded  by  a  morn- 
ing: it  will  not  be  a  perpetual,  eternal  night;  there  will  be 
a  time,  when  the  hid  face  will  again  appear,  and  the  cloud 
remove.  I  will  wait  upon  the  Lord,  that  hideth  his  face 
from  the  house  of  Jacob,  and  I  will  look  for  him,  Isa.  viii. 
17.  And  it  should  be  an  earnest,  desirous,  longing  expecta- 
tion. There  can  be  no  more  dismal  token  upon  us,  than  to 
be  indifferent:  he  is  gone,  his  face  is  hid,  he  is  not  to  be 
seen ;  and  whether  he  come  towards  us  again,  whether 
we  shall  see  him  again  any  more,  we  matter  it  not ;  this 
would  be  the  most  dismal  token. 


SERMON  XIIL* 


Beside  the  principles,  which  the  Spirit  of  God,  when 
copiously  and  generally  poured  forth,  will  work  in  each 
individual  person,  tending  to  create  a  happy  state  of  things 
in  the  church:  we  proposed  to  speak  of  two  general  effects, 
that  must  have  the  Christian  community  as  such,  for  the 
subject  of  them,  and  not  individual  persons  only,  viz. 
union  and  order. 

Much  hath  been  said  upon  the  former,  the  desirable 
effect  of  union.  It  hath  been  shown,  that  the  happiness  of 
the  church  doth  much  depend  upon  this,  and  that  it  is  the 
proper  work  of  the  Spirit  of  God  to  effect  it :  and  then  the 
last  time  we  came  to  speak  to  a  twofold  inquiry: — 1.  What 
kind  of  union  this  is  to  be.  This  we  have  gone  through, 
and  now  proceed  to  a  second,  viz. 

2.  In  what  way  the  Spirit  of  God  poured  forth  may  be 
expected  to  effect  this  union. 

And  there  is  no  doubt  but  it  will  effect  it  by  the  same 
means,  by  which  it  shall  revive  and  recover  religion ;  of 

•  Prcacl.eil  October  2d,  1678. 


which  we  have  so  largely  spoken.*  At  the  same  time  when 
It  makes  the  Christian  church  a  living  church,  it  will  make 
it  one,  that  is,  in  that  higher  and  more  eminent  degree, 
whereof  we  have  been  speaking.  It  is  but  one  and  the 
same  thing,  or  is  done  eddem  opera,  the  making  the  church 
more  holy  and  the  making  it  one :  what  brings  Christians 
nearer  to  God  and  Christ,  will  certainly  and  infallibly  at 
once  bring  them  nearer  to  one  another.  Font  is  manifest, 
that  the  greatest  differences  that  are  to  be  found  in  il^ 
Christian  world,  lie  between  the  godly  and  the  ungodly, 
the  converted  and  the  unconverted,  the  sincere  and  the  in- 
sincere :  whatever  diflerences  there  are  amongst  the  people 
of  God  themselves,  those  are  still  the  greatest  differences 
which  lie  between  them  and  those  who  are  not  of  them; 
f<T  there  the  disagreement  is  about  having  the  Lord  for 
our  God.  Every  ungodly  man  is  his  own  idol  ;  he  hath 
yet  this  finst  step  to  take  in  religion,  the  choo.sing  of  God 
alone  to  be  his  God :  now  the  difference  must  needs  be 
vast,  between  those  that  take  the  Lord  for  their  God,  and 
those  that  take  him  not,  but  serve  a  ba.se  and  despicable 
idol,  self,  and  make  all  to  their  very  uttermost  subservient 
unto  that.  The  .sincere  and  insincere  differ  about  their  last 
-^nd  ;  which  is  the  greatest  difference  that  can  be  imagined. 
All  men's  courses  are  shaped  and  directed  by  the  ends, 
which  they  propose  to  themselves  :  and  to  have  the  Lord 
for  our  God,  and  to  have  him  for  our  .supreme  and  ultimate 
end,  is  all  one.  Now  how  vastly  must  those  ways  needs 
differ,  that  lead  to  two  directly  contrar)'  ends  !  therefore 
still  the  greatest  difference  cannot  but  be  between  the  godly 
and  the  earthly  carnal-minded  man,  who  hath  himself  for 
his  God,  and  all  the  world  if  he  could  compass  it,  for  a 
sacrifice  to  his  own  idol,  himself.  Men  of  that  temper  and 
complexion  of  soul  are  the  men  that  stand  most  off  from 
union,  and  that  are  the  greatest  schismaiics  in  all  the  world ; 
it  cannot  but  be  so.  Therefore,  whensoever  the  Spirit  of 
God  poured  forth,  shall  make  men  agree  in  having  the 
Lord  for  their  God,  this  God  shall  be  our  God ;  when 
men  shall  become  more  generally  sincere  and  thoiough 
Christians  ;  then  it  cannot  but  be,  that  the}'  shall  be  united 
with  one  another,  and  agree  in  far  greater  things  than  it  is 
possible  they  can  differ  from  one  another  in.  And  there- 
fore in  the  forementioned  Jer.  xxxii.  38,  39.  at  the  same 
time  when  it  is  said.  They  shall  be  my  people,  and  I  will 
be  their  God ;  it  is  immediately  added.  And  I  will  give 
them  one  heart  and  one  way.  This  union  cannot  bnt  be 
the  result  of  more  lively,  serious  religion,  and  of  deeper 
impressions  of  godliness  and  of  the  Divine  image  upon  the 
souls  of  men.  Not  only  as  that  union  between  the  blessed 
persons  in  the  Godhead  is  the  pattern  of  union  amongst 
the  people  of  God  ;  that  they  all  may  he  one,  as  thou  Fa- 
ther art  in  me,  and  I  in  thee,  John  xvii.  21.  But  also  as 
such  a  union  is  the  certain  and  necessary  result  of  other 
excellencies,  wherein  the  Divine  image  doth  con-sist,  and 
wherein  holy  ones  do  and  cannot  but  resemble  God.  One 
apostle  giving  an  account  of  God,  how  we  are  to  conceive 
of'  him,  gives  it  us  under  these  two  notions,  that  he  is  light, 
and  that  he  is  love,  1  John  i.  5.  chap.  iv.  8.  16.  The 
image  of  God  in  these  two  things,  more  generally  .and 
vividly  impressed  upon  men,  doth  this  whole  busine."^, 
makes  them  all  one.  How  bles.sed  a  union  would  there 
be,  when  Christians  shall  generally  appear  the  representa- 
tions of  the  blessed  God  himself  in  these  two  things,  a 
composition,  as  it  were,  of  light  and  love. 

Therefore,  to  give  you  more  distinctly  the  account,  how 
or  in  what  way  the  Spirit  poured  for'h  should  bring  about 
this  union;  it  will  be, — 1st,  By  increasing  of  light  and 
knowledge  amongst  them  that  bear  the  Christian  name 
every  where  in  the  world : — Odly,  By  giving  greater 
measures  of  grace.  By  the  former,  men  shall  generally 
come  to  be  more  knowing  in  things  necessary  to  the  union  : 
and  by  the  laiier,  they  shall  be  more  patient  of  di.ssent 
from  one  another  in  things  less  necessary  to  be  known. 

1st,  By  an  increase  of  light  and  knowledge  in  things 
more  necessary  to  be  known.  I  do  not  mean  here  merely 
notional  knowledge  ;  as  the  apostle  doth  not  mean  that  if 
God,  when  he  saith,  that  Gkid  is  light ;  but  I  mean  that 
knowledge  received  in  the  minds  of  Christians,  that  lies  in 
the  next  immediate  tendency  to  holiness  ;  the  knowledge 
of  the  truth  that  is  af^er  godliness,  as  such,  in  that  designed 
a  See  page  575,  &c. 


600 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT  LN 


Sekm.  XIII. 


and  direct  tendency,  as  it  doth  attemper  and  dispose  the 
minds  of  men  unto  the  reception  of  truth  as  sanctifying. 
Sanctify  them  by  the  truth  ;  thy  word  is  truth,  John  xvii. 
17.  We  are  bound  to  give  thanks  always  to  God  for  you, 
— that  he  hath  chosen  you  unto  salvation,  through  sancti- 
fication  of  the  Spirit,  and  belief  of  the  truth, 2Thess.  ii.  13. 
The  truth,  as  it  lies  in  an  immediate  tendency  to  godliness, 
and  is  transformative  of  the  soul  into  a  holy  and  godly 
frame  ;  so  we  must  conceive  it  to  be  impressed  in  order  to 
this  blessed  work:  otherwise  there  wants  the  cement,  and 
that  which  should  hold  hearts  together,  as  intent  and  di- 
rected all  towards  one  common  design  and  end.  And  unto 
this  purpose,  we  must  suppose  the  Spirit  poured  forth  shall 
heal  the  disatfection  of  men's  minds  unto  such  truth,  or 
imto  truth  considered  under  that  notion  and  upon  that  ac- 
count. It  hath  a  great  work  to  do  for  this  end  upon  the 
minds  of  men;  the  union  that  is  to  be  brought  about,  (as 
Avas  observed  upon  the  former  head,)  being  necessarily  in- 
tellectual first,  and  then  cordial.  It  is  in  the  mind  that 
the  first  concoction  of  truth  must  be  wrought,  in  order  to 
a  further  and  more  perfect  concoction  in  the  heart  after- 
wards. And  whereas  there  is  a  manifold  distemperature 
and  malady,  even  in  the  minds  of  men,  that  renders  them 
incapable  of  useful,  practical  Go.spel  knowledge  ;  the  great 
work  of  the  Spirit  of  God  must  be  to  remove  and  heal 
those  infinnities  and  maladies  of  the  mind,  and  to  do  it 
generally  amongst  Christians ;  that  so  they  may  be  brought 
to  increase  in  the  knowledge  of  God,  in  divine  knowledge ; 
as  the  expression  is  Col.  i.  10.  I  might  make  a  copious 
enumeration  here  of  many  such  maladies  and  distempers 
in  the  mind,  by  which  it  becomes  disaffected  to  truth  :  and 
which  appear  now  to  be  epidemical  evils,  and  need  there- 
fore a  universal  effusion  of  the  Spirit  to  cure  them,  and  so 
to  bring  about  the  intellectual  union,  of  which  we  speak. 
These  maladies,  though  some  of  them  be  in  the  mind  itself, 
yet  most  of  them  are  originally  in  the  heart,  and  thence 
come  to  afiect  and  distemper  the  mind,  and  render  it  less 
susceptive  of  useful  and  savoury  knowledge.     As, — 

There  is  an  unapprehensiveness  too  generally  observable 
in  the  minds  of  men;  a  dulness  towards  the  apprehension 
of  truth.  The  Spirit  of  God,  when  it  comes  to  be  gene- 
rally poured  forth,  (as  it  was  said  to  be  upon  the  Messiah 
himself  on  whom  it  was  poured  forth  without  measure,  and 
thence  to  be  transfused,  as  from  a  common  fountain,  imto 
all  that  have  vital  union  with  him,)  will  make  men  of 
quick  understanding  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord  :  as  it  is  ex- 
pressed, Isa.  xi.  3. 

There  is  a  slothful  oscitamcy  in  the  minds  of  most ;  a  re- 
gardlcssness  and  unconcernedness  to  know  the  great  and 
deep  things  of  God  :  and  that  causes  a  great  disagreement 
and  disunion  in  the  Christian  world.  There  are  many  that 
stint  themselves :  they  think  they  know  enough,  and  de- 
sire to  know  no  more,  and  cannot  endure  to  be  out-gone 
Dy  others,  or  that  any  should  exceed  their  measure.  As 
these  latter  times,  with  reference  to  which  we  speak,  will 
certainly  be  times  of  very  much  knowledge  ;  so  they  will 
be  of  very  much  inquiry  :  Many  shall  run  to  and  fro,  and 
knowledge  shall  be  increased,  Dan.  xii.  4.  There  will  not 
be  a  slothful,  oscitant  sitting  down  with  a  present  measure 
and  attainment,  but  there  will  be  a  following  on  to  know 
the  Lord,  as  you  have  it,  Hos.  vi.  3.  and  then  the  promise 
of  "  his  going  forth  shall  he  prepared  as  the  morning;"  as 
it  immediately  follows.  There  will  be  always  new  and 
fresh  breakings  forth  of  divine  light,  ready  to  reward  the 
endeavour  of  them  that  seriously  set  themselves  to  inquire 
and  seek  after  it. 

There  is  very  generally  observable  with  many  much  cre- 
dulity ;  aptness  to  take  up  reports.  The  simple,  says  So- 
lomon, believeth  every  word,  Prov.  xiv.  15.  And  hence  it 
comes  to  pass,  that  every  one,  that  can  tell  a  plausible 
story,  and  a  little  set  off  any  fancy  and  novel  invention  of 
his  own,  makes  it  presently  to  obiain  and  pass  for  a  reve- 
lation :  and  hence  comes,  as  is  obvious  to  common  obser- 
vation, much  of  that  division  that  hath  been  observable  in 
our  days. 

There  is  also,  on  the  contrary  hand,  3,n  excessive  hicredii- 
liljj,  or  unaptness  to  believe  things ;  because  they  are  very 
great  and  glorious,  and  exceed  the  measures  of  our  pre- 
conceptions or  preconceived  thoughts,  the  evil  of  which 
our  Saviour  upbraids  his  disciples  with,  that  they  were 


slow  of  heart  to  believe  all  that  the  prophets  had  spoken, 
the  things  contained  in  the  divine  revelation  that  had  been 
made  before  by  the  prophets  concerninghim,  Luke  xxiv.  25. 
There  is  inconsideratinn  ;  an  inability  to  consider  and 
weigh  things,  to  ponder  and  balance  them  as  the  case  may 
require.  Men  are  apt,  rashly  and  without  using  their  un- 
derstandings, to  take  up  things  upon  their  very  first  ap- 
pearance. It  is  spoken  concerning  these  latter  days,  in 
Isa.  xxxii.  4.  that  even  the  heart  of  the  rash  shall  under- 
stand knowledge;  of  those  that  were  so,  before  they  shall 
be  cured  of  that  malady.  There  is  also  an  unaptness  to 
consider,  as  well  as  an  inability  and  indisposition  to  it; 
many  times  from  a  kind  of  superstitious  fear,  that  men 
think  they  must  not  use  their  understandings  to  examine 
and  search  into  things,  that  it  is  not  yet  permitted  to  them 
to  do  so:  as  if  God  had  given  men  faculties,  which  they 
were  not  to  use  :  they  might  as  well  be  afraid  to  look  upon 
an  object  with  their  eyes,  and  to  pry  into  it,  and  to  labour 
that  way  to  distinguish  between  one  thing  and  another. 

There  is,  opposite  to  that,  a  certain  petulancy  of  mind  : 
when  men  will  make  it  their  business  to  tear  and  unravel 
all  principles,  and  they  must  have  their  reason  satisfied  in 
every  thing,  or  they  will  be  satisfied  in  nothing. 

There  is  an  injudiciousness  ;  an  inability  to  conclude  ; 
after  considering  never  so  much,  never  so  long,  when  the 
balance  will  never  be  cast.  So  many  are  ever  learning,  and 
never  come  to  the  knowledge  of  the  truth,  2  Tim.  iii.  7 
never  conclude,  never  determine ;  but  are  always  as  child- 
ren tossed  to  and  fro. 

There  is,  again,  a  certain  scepticism  of  mind  with  a  great 
many ;  that  when  others  have  stated  and  settled,  even  by 
common  agreement  and  consent  in  the  Christian  church, 
such  conclusions,  yet  declaim  against  every  thing  as  un- 
certain ;  not  only  from  a  peculiar  inability  to  make  a  judg- 
ment ;  but  from  a  principle  that  there  is  no  judgment  to 
be  made,  and  that  there  is  nothing  certain  at  all,  or  ought 
to  be  looked  upon  as  such  ;  which  hath  staived  the  Chris- 
tian church  and  made  it  languish  for  a  longtime,  as  to  the 
matter  of  sound  knowledge. 

There  is  ivstability  of  judgment ;  that  when  men  have 
concluded  and  determined  upon  good  evidence,  this  is  true 
and  ought  to  be  adhered  to  accordingly,  yet  they  are  pre- 
sently off  again  ;  and  therefore  are  so  remote  from  agree- 
ing with  the  generality  of  other  Christians,  that  they  are 
never  found  long  to  agree  with  themselves. 

There  is,  as  what  is  more  directly  opposite  to  the  former, 
a  certain  kind  o{  obstinacy  of  mind,  prejudice,  a  fixed  pre- 
possession with  corrupt  and  false  principles,  that  once  im- 
bibed shall  never  be  quitted ;  and  which  doth  very  frequent- 
ly proceed  from  an  enslavedncss  unto  human  dictates :  that 
is,  that  they  have  taken  some  one  or  other  to  be  a  leader 
to  them,  and  an  orator  ;  and  so  give  away  that  faith,  which 
is  due  only  unto  a  divine  revelation,  and  ought  to  pitch 
and  centre  there,  unto  the  fallible  judgment  of  a  man  ;  in 
direct  contradiction  to  that  rule  of  our  Lord  Christ,  Call 
no  man  Rabbi,  call  no  man  Master  upon  earth.  Matt,  xxiii. 
8,  10.  Do  not  enslave  your  minds  and  judgments  to  any 
man. 

It  must  be  supposed,  that  when  ever  the  Spirit  of  God 
doth  that  bles,<=ed  work  in  the  world,  to  revive  and  recover 
religion  and  Christianity,  it  will  unite  Christians  even  by 
this  means,  the  curing  of  these  great  maladies  and  distem- 
pers, that  are  in  the  minds  of  men  so  generally,  and  by  which 
they  are  rendered  indisposed  and  averse  to  the  entertain- 
ment and  retention  of  sound  Gospel  knowledge.  For  this 
spirit,  where  it  is  given,  is  the  spirit  of  a  sound  mind,  2 
Tim.  i.  7.  The  word,  that  is  rendered  soundness  of  mind 
there,  (roji^poi'((T/;o?,  signifies  sobriety,  a  spirit  of  sobriety.  In- 
deed that  word  doth  commonly  misguide  men  ;  and  they 
apply  it  unto  a  thing  far  inferior  in  nature  and  dignity  unto 
that  which  it  truly  signifies  ;  as  if  it  were  to  be  opposed 
only  to  gross  sensual  wickedness.  But  sobriety,  as  the 
very  notation  of  the  word  doth  import,  hath  its  seat  and 
subject  in  the  mind,  and  doth  firstly  and  chiefly  affect  that. 
A  sound  mind  and  a  sober  mind  is  all  one.  Till  the  Spirit 
of  God  do  in  these  several  respects  cure  men's  minds,  it 
is  impossible  there  should  be  union  or  agreement ;  unless 
men  do  agree  only  in  being  diseased ;  or,  (w-hich  would 
not  do  the  business  neither,)  unless  they  could  agree  all  to 
be  in  one  disease,  which  would  be  a  very  unhappy  union 


Serm.  XIII. 


REFERENCE  TO  THE  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH. 


601 


also.  When  therefore  the  Spirit  of  the  living  God  shall 
universally  come  forth  upon  men,  and  create  the  world 
Christians,  and  create  the  Christian  world  a  region  of 
light;  when  it  siiall  generally  make  men  apprehensive, 
inquiring,  serious,  considerate,  judicious,  lovers  of  the 
truth  even  for  itself,  sincere,  so  as  to  entertain  truth  with 
no  other  design  than  only  that  the  life  of  godliness  may 
be  promoted  and  served  by  it ;  there  cannot  but  then  be  in 
a  very  great  degree  the  happy  union  obtaining  amongst 
Christians,  whereof  we  have  spoken. 

But  yet,  when  all  this  is  done,  we  cannot  suppose  by  it, 
that  men  should  be  brought  to  know  all  things;  but  still 
there  will  be  many  things,  wherein  they  cannot  but  remain 
ignorant,  and  consequently  dissent  and  differ  in  many 
things  from  one  another.  Therefore  the  Spirit  of  God 
poured  forth  must  be  supposed  also  to  effect  this  union, 

2dly,  By  making  Christians  more  generally  patient  of 
dissent  from  one  another,  in  less  necessary  things  which 
they  may  not  still  so  generally  know.  And,  if  we  consider, 
what  the  genuine  operations  of  the  blessed  Spirit  of  God 
are,  and  what  kind  of  Spirit  that  is  wherever  it  comes  to 
obtain;  this  cannot  but  be  the  general  temper  of  Chris- 
tians, when  that  Spirit  shall  be  eminently  poured  forth ; 
that  they  shall  be  verj' patient  of  dissent  from  one  another 
in  things  wherein  they  continue  to  dissent.     For, 

1.  We  must  suppose  that  the  Spirit  being  generally  so 
poured  forth,  there  will  be  a  greater  ability  to  distinguish 
between  truths  that  are  of  Scripture  revelation,  and  those 
that  are  not ;  and  consequently  which  it  is  matter  of  duty 
to  believe,  and  which  not.  For  undoubtedly  there  is  to 
be  such  a  distinction  made  between  truth  and  truth,  as 
any  one  may  easily  see  at  the  first  view.  For  we  must 
know,  that  a  thing  is  not  therefore  the  necessar)'  object  of 
my  assent,  because  it  is  true;  but  because  it  is  evident,  or 
because  it  is  credible ;  either  evident  in  itself,  or  recom- 
mended as  credible  to  me  by  the  authority  of  him  that 
doth  reveal  it.  I  am  not  bound  therefore  to  believe  a 
thing  immediately,  because  it  is  in  itself  true;  for  that  it 
may  be,  and  yet  I  have  no  means  to  know  it  to  be  so,  but 
then  is  the  obligation  inferred  upon  me  to  believe  such  a 
thing,  when  it  is  clothed  with  sufficient  evidence  to  re- 
commend itself  unto  my  understanding.  And  whereas 
there  are  some  things  that  God  hath  revealed,  even  all 
things  that  are  any  ways  necessary  either  to  the  being  or 
the  well-being  of  religion;  I  must  consider  those  things 
that  lie  not  within  the  compass  of  that  revelation,  as  wha' 
God  hath  left  unto  men  in  vicdio ;  he  has  left  them  un- 
determined, and  so  they  maj'  be  matter  of  very  innocent 
disagreement,  of  discourse  and  decertation,  without  any 
concernedness,  on  the  one  part  or  the  other. 

2.  Amongst  revealed  truths,  we  may  suppose  men  will 
be  enabled  to  distinguish  between  the  greater  and  the  less, 
between  those  that  are  more  necessary  and  less  necessary. 

3.  We  must  suppose  Christians  then  to  be  generally 
more  spiritual,  and  apt  to  betaken  up  more  with  the  great 
things  of  religion  ;  and  less  apt  to  be  greatly  and  deeply 
concerned  about  matters  of  less  consequence,  so  as  to  dis- 
turb and  break  the  order  and  peace  of  the  church  upon 
the  account  of  them. 

4.  We  must  suppose  them  then  to  be  more  holy ;  less 
opinionative,  less  conceited  and  hiunoursome;  which  is 
that  kind  of  knowledge  that  the  apostle  doth  oppose  to 
love,  as  not  only  unedifying,  but  destructive  of  edification, 
1  Cor.  viii.  1,  &c.  Knowledge  puffeth  up,  but  charity 
edifieth.  And  if  any  man  think  that  he  knoweth  any 
thing,  if  he  knows  with  a  conceited  reflection  upon  his 
own  knowledge,  admiring  himself  upon  account  of  it ;  he 
knoweth  nothing  yet  as  he  ought  to  know.  Ignorance  is 
better  than  his  knowledge.  Men  will  think  more  meanly 
of  themselves  and  their  own  judgments,  and  either  more 
highly  or  more  charitably  of  other  men;  either  think, 
that  possibly  they  may  see  that  which  themselves  see  not ; 
or  if  they  cannot  apprehend  so,  yet  at  least  that  the  men 
are  sincere  and  upright-hearted  towards  God;  as  it  is 
meet  for  them  to  judge,  and  not  to  be  insolently  censori- 
ous of  such  as  do  in  such  or  such  little  matters  diflTer  from 
them ;  not  to  attribute  to  perverseness  of  mind  every  man's 
dissension  of  opinion  from  their  own. 

5.  They  must  needs  be  supposed  to  be  more  compassion- 

fa  Sec  page  593. 


ate  unto  those,  whom  they  suppose  to  know  less  than  them- 
selves ;  as  knowing,  that  there  are  many  things  which 
themselves  are  ignorant  of,  and  they  shall  never  attain  to 
know  all  things  as  long  as  they  live.  There  are  still  all  the 
genuine  workings  of  theSpirit  of  God.so  far  as  it  obtains  and 
prevails  over  the  spiritsof  men  ;  and  so  this  among  the  rest, 

6.  Christians  will  undoubtedly  then  be  formed  unto  a 
more  awful  and  reverential  .subjection  to  God's  own  pre- 
scribed rules,  concerning  the  boundaries  and  terms  of 
Christian  communion.  Men  will  not  then  dare  to  make 
terms  of  their  own  to  limit  the  conununion  of  Cliristians 
as  such  ;  to  devise  new  terms  which  Christ  was  never  the 
author  of,  and  will  never  own  ;  but  the  authority  of  such 
a  law  will  obtain  in  the  hearts  of  Christians,  that  are  be- 
come so  serious  and  subject  to  the  authority  of  God  as 
they  must  then  be  supposed  to  be,  so  as  that  they  will  ex- 
tend their  communion  as  far  as  it  can  be  judged  that  God 
will  extend  his,  and  Christ  will  extend  his.  For  that  is  the 
measure,  that  is  given  us, in  these  two  passages.  In  one  place 
it  is  said,  Rom.  xiv.  1,  ^.  Receive  such  a  one,  for  God  hath 
received  him:  receive  him  for  all  his  doubling,  for  all  his 
dilTerence  from  you;  and  why"?  because  the  Lord  hath  re- 
ceived him.  In  the  other  place  iris  thus  expressed,  chap. xiv. 
7.  Receive  ye  one  another,  as  Christ  hath  received  us,  to  the 
glory  of  God.  Gt)d  receives  such  a  one  into  his  commu- 
nion; and  shall  not  I  receive  him  into  mine  1  Christ  receives 
such  a  one,  even  untotheglory  of  the  Father ;  and  shall  not 
I  receive  him  into  my  fellowship  ?  When  once  the  spirits  of 
men  come  to  be  awed  into  subjection  unto  the  Divine  au- 
thority in  this  thing,  so  as  to  reckon  it  profane  to  prescribe 
bounds  and  terms  unto  Christian  communion,  other  than 
God  and  Christ  have  prescribed  themselves;  then  no 
doubt  will  this  blessed  effect  obtain  and  lake  place  in  the 
Christian  church, then  Avill  it  become  an  entire  unied  thing, 
one  thin?  within  itself,  and  never  till  then.  As  long  as  we 
must  have  terms  of  Christian  communion  of  men's  own 
devising,  according  to  the  diflerent  humours  of  men,  they 
will  still  vary,  and  so  we  shall  never  know  where  to  be. 

Thus  we  have  considered  that  first  effect  to  be  expected 
from  the  Spirit  generalU'  poured  forth,  in  order  to  promote 
the  peaceful  state  of  the  church,  viz.  the  union  of  Chris- 
tians amongst  themselves. b  I  would  add  something  con- 
c^ing  another  particular  mentioned,  as  conducive  also 
to  the  same  peaceful  state. 

II.  Order  is  another  blessed  effect  to  be  looked  for  from 
the  pouring  out  of  the  Spirit,  and  that  belongs  unto  the 
Christian  community  as  a  community,  and  is  most  neces- 
sary unto  the  making  up  of  that  happy  time  and  state  of 
things,  whereof  we  have  been  speaking.  It  is  ven,-  plain, 
that  this  superadds  somewhat  unto  union.  It  is  a  bad  union, 
where  there  is  not  order.  Union  speaks  the  compactive- 
ness  of  parts;  order  the  due  situation  of  them,  that  every 
one  be  in  that  place  which  duly  belongs  to  it.  Suppose 
there  were  never  so  much  union  in  the  parts  of  the  natu- 
ral body,  but  the  eyes  were  placed  where  the  ears  should 
be,  and  the  hands  where  the  feet  should  be;  notwithstand- 
ing all  the  union  of  parts,  the  lack  of  order  would  make 
this  thing  uncomfortable  to  itself,  and  deformed  and  m.a'i- 
strous  in  the  view  of  others.  There  are  many  members 
in  one  and  the  same  body  ;  and  these  members  have  all 
their  distinct  place  and  use  and  purpose  that  they  serve  for, 
as  the  apostle  at  large  discourses,  1  Cor.  xii.  Now  the 
Spirit  of  God  cannot  be  poured  forth,  but  it  will  infer  a 
comely  order  in  the  Christian  church;  by  the  same  ope- 
ration by  which  it  gives  it  life,  it  will  give  it  shape  and 
comeliness,  and  a  due  figure  and  disposition  of  parts  within 
itself  It  was  well  said  concerning  this  matterby  a  worthy 
person,  "  God  will  certainly  not  be  wanting  in  point  of 
shape  and  comelv  order  to  a  church,  that  hath  a  principle 
of  life  within  itself."  He  that  clothes  lilies,  and  gives  life 
unto  the  sensiti\'e  creatures,  and  gives  them  their  own 
proper  shape  also ;  will  no  doubt  do  so  unto  the  lively 
body  of  his  own  son:  he  will  never  be  wanting  to  it  in 
point  of  shape  and  comely  order,  when  it  comes  to  be  a 
lively  vigorous  thing:  by  how  much  the  fuller  of  life,  so 
much  ceriainlv  the  order  will  be  the  more  comely  and 
pleasant,  bv  its  own  choice,  and  much  more  as  directed 
by  his  rules.  To  evince  this,  consider  these  several  things. 

1.  The  Spirit  poured  forth  comes  to  be,  in  them  that 


602 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT  IN 


Serm.  XIV, 


recei  re  it,  as  a  certain  kind  of  nature  ;  it  is  called  the  Di- 
vine nature.  Nature,  you  know,  acts  uniformly  and  or- 
derly in  all  its  operations.  How  regular  are  the  courses 
of  nature !  how  constant  the  returns  of  days  and  nights, 
of  summer  and  winter !  how  strictly  do  all  the  species 
and  kinds  of  things  keep  all  their  own  kind,  retain  their 
properties,  colours,  virtues,  ways  and  methods  of  opera- 
tion !  The  Spirit  of  God,  working,  (as  it  i.s  received  in 
the  hearts  of  Christians,)  even  as  a  certain  kind  of  nature, 
mast  needs  work  unilbrmly  ;  and  so  have  a  Nteady  ten- 
dency to  the  begetting  and  keeping  up  of  order  in  the 
whole  community,  that  shall  be  aggregated  by  it. 

3.  It  cannot  be,  but  that,  by  how  much  the  Spirit  doth 
more  obtain  and  shall  be  generally  poured  forth  amongst 
men,  each  one  will  be  more  peculiarly  adapted  and  htted 
to  the  business  of  his  own  station,  so  as  that  he  will  there- 
upon choose  that  as  fittest  for  him. 

3.  It  cannot  be,  but  that  all  men  will  be  more  debased 
and  humbled,  and  equal  estimators  of  themselves,  and 
therefore  apprehend  not  themselves  fit  for  a  station  unto 
which  they  are  not  called. 

4.  The  Spirit  poured  forth  will  no  doubt  make  men 
more  generally  apprehensive  of,  and  reverentially  subject 
to,  the  authority  of  God  himself,  in  all  his  own  ordinances 
and  appointments ;  and  therefore,  when  one  is  to  teach, 
and  others  to  be  taught;  some  to  govern,  others  to  be  go- 
verned ;  the  authority,  that  doth  design  men  unto  more 
public  stations  and  capacities,  will  be  considered  as  Di- 
vine. We  notionally  know  so  much  already  ;  but  it  will 
be  another  thing,  when  that  impression  is  made  upon  the 
hearts  of  Christians,  "He  that  despiseth,  despiseth  not 
man,  but  God." 

5.  The  Spijit  poured  forth  cannot  be  without  making 
men  generally  very  tender  of  the  community  unto  which 
they  belong,  and  of  the  whole  Christian  community  in 
general :  as  every  one  can  easily  apprehend,  how  this 
would  be  prejudiced,  if  order  be  broken,  and  men  com- 
monly allow  themselves  the  liberty  to  step  out  of  their 
own  ranks  and  stations,  to  be  and  do  what  they  are  not 
called  to  be  or  do. 

The  concurrence  of  these  things  cannot  but  infer,  that 
whenever  the  Spirit  of  God  shall  be  generally  poured  forth, 
the  Christian  church  will  fall  into  order ;  there  will  fced 
no  great  hammering  in  reference  to  that,  the  business  will 
even  do  of  itself  All  will  know,  and  all  will  mind,  their 
own  stations  and  the  business  of  them ;  and  apprehend 
their  own  unfilness  for  any  station,  unto  which  God  doth 
not  call ;  and  apprehend  their  privilege  in  not  being  so 
called,  in  being  exempt  from  the  cumber  and  burden  of 
more  pul^lic  stations ;  as  certainly  exemption,  if  it  were 
understood,  is  a  very  great  privilege ;  when  God  doth  not 
lay  any  further  charge  upon  me,  than  only  to  intend  the 
business  of  a  narrower  station  and  a  lesser  sphere ;  when 
I  can  be  vacant  unto  God,  and  for  his  commerce,  and  there 
walk  with  him  undisturbedly  within  my  own  line  ;  while 
others  are  eaten  up  with  cares  and  solicitudes  concerning 
the  common  affairs,  that  they  are  concerned  in,  and  in- 
trusted with  the  management  of.  No  doubt  the  Spirit  of 
God  will  help  every  man  to  make  a  true  judgment  of 
things,  when  it  comes  to  be  generally  poured  forth ;  and 
this,  that  hath  been  just  spoken  of,  cannot  but  be  judged  ; 
necause  it  is  a  very  great  privilege  to  have  freedom  and 
vacancy  for  the  proper  business  of  a  Christian  as  such, 
within  his  own  calling  and  verge ;  when  God  shall,  as  it 
■were  providentially,  say  unto  a  man,  "  I  lay  no  other  charge 
upon  thee,  but  to  walk  with  me  in  thy  own  station  and 
within  the  bounds  of  thy  own  calling,  to  make  me  the  en- 
tire object  of  thy  love  and  delight,  and  at  all  times  to  so- 
lace thyself  with  me  ;  I  exempt  thee  from  things,  that 
would  disturb  and  disquiet  and  divert  from  the  business 
and  delights  of  such  a  continued  course  of  walking  with 
me."  When  this  comes  to  be  generally  understood,  there 
will  be  little  disposition  in  the  minds  of  men  to  break  or- 
der, by  usurping  upon  what  belongs  not  to  them. 

Thus  far  you  see,  that  little  else  can  be  thought  needful 
to  the  bringing  about  of  a  very  happy  time  and  state  of 
things,  besides  the  pouring  forth  of  the  Spirit. 


*  Prenclied  Octolier  9th,  1673. 


SERMON  XIV.* 

We  have  been  showing  in  many  discourses,  what  a 
good  state  of  things  or  happy  times  are  to  be  brought 
about  by  the  Spirit  of  God  poured  forth.  And  hitherto 
we  have  been  endeavouring  at  large  to  evince  the  efficacy 
and  sufficiency  of  this  means  to  the  end  mentioned; 
which  was  the  first  thing''  undertaken  to  be  made  evident. 
We  are  now  to  proceed  to  show — 

Secondly,  The  7iecessity  of  this  means  to  reach  such  an 
end  ;  that  as  it  is  a  sufficient  means,  you  may  also  under- 
stand it  to  be  the  only  means,  of  bringing  such  a  work 
about.  And  for  evincing  this,  two  things,  clear  enough  in 
themselves,  seem  abundantly  sufficient; — 1.  That  nothing 
can  mend  the  world,  but  what  mends  the  spirits  of  men ; 
and, — 2.  That  nothing  can  eflTectually  do  that  but  the  Sj^i- 
rit  of  the  Lord  poured  forth.  These  are  things  that  shine 
into  our  minds  and  understandings  with  their  own  light. 

As  to  the  former ;  What  else  do  we  think  can  mend  the 
times,  but  what  mends  men's  spirits?  doth  not  ever)'  thing 
necessarily  act  and  work  just  as  it  is  1  how  can  the  posture 
of  the  world  come  to  be  other  than  at  present,  if  the  active 
principles  of  men's  spirits  continue  the  same  1 

And  as  to  the  latter ;  what  besides  the  Spirit  of  God 
can  eftectually  mend  the  Spirits  of  men,  so  as  to  make  the 
state  of  things  thoroughly  and  generally  better  1 

What  other  cause  can  be  universal  enough,  and  spread 
its  influence  far  and  wide,  to  make  a  better  world?  There 
wants  a  cause  in  this  case,  that  can  diffuse  and  influence 
a  vast  way.  That  a  nation  should  be  born  in  a  day,  that 
the  earth  should  be  filled  with  the  knowledge  of  God,  that 
there  should  be  new  heavens  and  a  new  earth  ;  this  needs 
a  cause  that  can  work  every  where ;  and  what  else  can  do 
this  but  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  1     And  again. 

What  other  cause  is  potent  enough,  of  sufiicient  energy, 
of  virtue  piercing  and  penetrative  enough,  to  do  such  a 
work  as  must  be  done  upon  the  spirits  of  men,  before  the 
state  of  things  will  come  to  be  better  1  What  else  can 
shiver  rocks,  and  melt  down  mountains,  and  make  rough 
places  plain  1  What  else,  do  you  think,  can  dissolve  ad- 
amantine hearts,  subdue  insolent  passions,  assuage  and 
mortify  furious  lusts'?  What  else  can  change  men's  na- 
tures, transform  the  very  habit  of  their  minds,  and  make 
them  generally  quite  other  men,  other  creatures,  than  they 
have  been  1  Unto  what  agent  inferior  to  his  can  we  at- 
tribute the  ability  to  create?  New  heavens  and  anew 
earth  are  to  be  created,  Isa.  Ixv.  17.  You  know  how  they 
were  created  at  first;  "By  faith  we  understand,  that  the 
worlds  were  created  by  the  word  of  God."  The  heavens 
and  the  earth  were  the  products  of  the  breath  of  his  month, 
with  all  that  is  contained  in  them ;  so  must  the  spiritual 
creation  be,  as  much  as  the  natural.  What,  do  we  think, 
can  make  all  the  violences  and  mischiefs  to  cease  out  of 
the  earth,  that  fill  it  with  continual  tragedies  every  where, 
and  more  or  less  at  all  times?  Nothing  is  more  evident, 
than  that  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  alone  is  a  cause  propor.- 
tionable  to  such  an  expected  effect. 

And  the  matter  will  be  yet  more  evident,  if  you  do  but 
consider  these  two  things  together. 

1.  That  the  Spirits  of  men  are  most  horribly  depraved, 
and  wickedly  bent  in  themselves  to  such  things  as  tend  to 
nothing  but  destruction  and  calamity.  It  is  said  of  men 
universally,  that  destruction  and  misery  are  in  their  ways 
Rom.  iii.  16. 

2.  That  all  these  wicked  inclinations  of  men's  spirits 
are  continually  fostered  and  fomented  by  another  spirit 
distinct  from  theirs,  and  over  and  besides  theirs.  The 
spirit  that  worketh  in  the  hearts  of  the  children  of  dis- 
obedience, (Eph.  ii.  2.)  makes  the  world  and  the  church 
miserable,  so  far  as  it  prevails.  Now  what  can  we  oppose 
to  that  spirit,  but  the  Spirit  of  the  living  God?  While 
that  spirit  is  the  great  tormentor  and  disturber  of  the 
world,  that  disquiets  all  things,  that  sets  the  spirits  of  men 
on  work  against  God  and  against  one  another  every 
where,  that  hath  deluged  the  world  with  an  inundation  of 
wickedness  :  what  but  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  can  lift  up  a 
standard  against  it  ? 

d,  See  page  575. 


Serm.  XIV. 


REFERENCE  TO  THE  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH. 


603 


But  that  the  apprehension  of  this  matter  may  yet  set- 
tle and  Hx  more  deeply  with  us;  (for  it  is  of  great  con- 
cernment that  it  should  do  so,  that  we  may  know  whither 
to  direct  our  eye  ;)  let  us  but  enumerate  a  litlle  all  the  pro- 
bable means  besides  that  we  can  think  of,  which  might 
make  the  times  good ;  and  think,  how  inefficacious  and 
altogether  to  no  purpose  they  would  be,  without  the  Spirit 
of  the  Lord  poured  forth  and  working  with  mighty  efficacy 
every  where  upon  the  spirits  of  men. 

1.  Think  what  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel  would  do. 
That,  it  must  be  supposed,  will  be  very  general,  far  more 
general  than  it  is,  to  bring  about  such  a  state  ol'  things  as 
we  expect  and  hope  for,  before  time  end.  But,  alas!  what 
would  preaching  do,  if  we  could  suppose  it  never  so  ge- 
neral, while  the  Spirit  of  the  living  God  restrains  and 
withholds  his  influences  1  Indeed  it  is  not  to  be  supposed, 
that  there  could  be  a  general  preaching  of  the  Gospel 
amongst  men,  without  the  mighty  work  of  the  Spirit  of 
God  to  prepare  the  way :  but  if  there  were,  to  how  little 
purpose  is  our  preaching,  where  that  Spirit  works  not ! 
We  may  as  well  attempt  to  batter  strong  walls  with  the 
breath  of  our  mouths,  as  to  do  good  upon  men's  souls  with- 
out the  Spirit  of  God.  If  there  were  preachers  every  where, 
that  could  "  speak  with  the  tongues  of  men  and  of  angels," 
what  would  it  signify  1  "  Do  I  persuade  men  1"  saith  the 
apostle.  Alas!  it  is  above  us  to  persuade  men;  it  is  a 
matter  of  very  great  difficulty  in  things  that  are  but  of 
common  concernment.  How  hard  to  alter  the  mind  and 
will  of  a  man,  once  set  and  bent  already  upon  this  or  that 
thing  of  a  secular  nature,  that  hath  reference  only  to 
earthly  affairs !  The  heathens  themselves  have  been  taught 
by  that  light  that  hath  shone  amongst  them,  to  attribute 
unto  a  Deity  the  business  of  persuading  men,  to  acknow- 
ledge it  a  7iuvicn  that  ever  comes  to  have  a  persuasive 
power  over  men's  minds.  When  the  Son  of  God  himself 
was  the  preacher,  how  little  was  effected,  till  the  time  came 
of  the  Spirit's  being  so  copiously  poured  forth  !  He  that 
spake,  his  enemies  Ijeing  judges,  so  as  never  man  spake  1 
into  whose  lips  grace  was  poured  forth  !  his  hearers  won- 
dering at  the  gracious  words  that  proceeded  from  his 
mouth  !  astonished  sometimes  at  his  doctrine  !  for  they 
could  distinguish,  and  see,  that  he  taught  with  authority, 
and  not  as  the  scribes :  yet  how  little  was  done  !  All 
ended  in  the  martyrdom  of  the  preacher,  and  not  long  after 
in  the  destruction  of  the  people  for  the  greatest  part. 
When  that  Spirit  was  poured  torth,  then  thousands  at  a 
sermon  were  subdued  and  brought  under  by  the  power  of 
the  Gospel :  but  it  was  not  yet  given  in  that  plentiful 
measure,  while  as  yet  Jesus  was  not  glorified.  And  if  it 
had  not  been  given  upon  Jesus's  glorification,  what  could 
have  enough  fortified  the  hearts  of  these  poor  disciples,  to 
undertake  the  converting  of  the  world,  the  going  to  teach 
all  nations,  to  proselyte  mankind  1  How  much,  how  un- 
speakably too  big  had  such  an  attempt  appeared  for  their 
undertaking,  if  a  mighty  Spirit  had  not  come  forth  to  raise 
them  above  themselves,  to  make  them  somewhat  beyond 
men  !  How  could  they  ever  have  thought  of  going  about 
such  a  thing  as  that,  wherein  they  were  to  be  and  actually 
were  the  sticcessful  instruments'?  Without  it,  what  success 
could  have  been  hoped  for,  howsoever  attempted  1  Possibly 
it  may  be  thought,  that  human  endeavours  might  have 
done  much  at  least  towards  the  proselyting  of  mankind  to 
the  Christian  profession  :  so  much  might  have  been  dis- 
covered of  the  reasonableness  of  that  religion,  as  that  it 
might  have  been  thought  fit,  somewhat  generally,  so  far  as 
men  could  be  dealt  with,  to  entertain  and  embrace  the 
Christian  name.  Truly  even  that  was  very  unlikely ;  that 
it  should  have  been  ordinarily  in  the  power  of  any  rhetoric 
or  of  any  reason,  generally  to  persuade  men  to  forsake  a 
religion,  wherein  they  had  been  bred  and  born,  and  which 
was  delivered  down  to  them  from  their  forefathers,  whether 
Jews  or  pagans :  it  was  very  unlikely,  that  mere  argument 
should  prevail  so  far  on  the  world.    But  suppose  it  did. 

2.  Consider  what  mere  nominal  Christianity  would  do 
to  the  bettering  of  the  world.  What  doth  it  now  to  the 
bettering  of  the  state  of  things,  where  it  obtains  1  Where- 
in are  the  nominal  Christians  belter  than  other  men  ? 
wherein  are  they  better  towards  God  and  Christ  1  The 
case  is  apparent,  that  though  atheism  and  infidelity  be  con- 
quered in  men's  minds  and  understandings  by  the  strength 


of  rea-son  or  of  education,  yet  still  the  stronger  fort  in  the 
heart  remains  inexpugnable,  till  the  Spirit  of  the  living 
God  comes  to  deal  efiectually  with  the  hearts  of  men :  and 
so  that  consequently  there  is  as  great  enmity  against  God 
and  Christ,  even  in  the  Chri.stizm  world  as  out  of  ii.  And 
wherein  are  men  better  in  Christendom  towards  one  an- 
other, than  the  pagans  and  Mahometans  are "?  wherein 
better  1  where  is  there  more  deceit  and  fraud,  more  en- 
mity and  malice,  more  oppres.sion  and  cruelty,  than 
amongst  the  nommal  Christians'?  If  we  take  true  mea- 
sures of  the  Christian  religion,  and  apprehend  it  lo  be 
what  indeed  it  is;  if  we  will  say,  that  it  is  faith  in  G'jd 
through  Christ,  or  dcvotedness  lo  God  through  Christ ;  or 
if  we  will  say,  that  it  doth  consist,  as  no  doubt  in  very 
great  part  it  doth,  in  an  imitation  of  Christ,  in  being  like- 
minded  lo  Christ  in  purity,  heavenliness,  spirituality,  in 
self-denial,  meekness,  patience,  peaceableness,  aptitude  to 
do  good  all  that  ever  we  can  :  if  this  be  the  Chri.-iian  re- 
ligion, we  may  confidently  say,  that  Christianity  hath  not 
more  bitter  enemies  in  all  the  world  than  profes.sed  Christ- 
ians: I  wish  we  could  not  say  so.  And  where  throughout 
this  world  have  there  ever  been  more  bloody  war.s,  fierce 
commotions,  dreadful  ruins  and  devastations,  than  amongsi 
Christians  1  Therefore  think,  how  little  towards  the  beiier- 
ingof  the  world  and  mendingof  the  times,  nominal  Christ- 
ianity doth  or  can  do  without  the  Spirit  of  God:  the  woild 
is  filled  with  plagues  notwithstanding,  and  whatsoever 
tends  to  make  it  miserable,  in  those  very  parts  where  that 
obtains.     But  then, 

3.  It  may  be  supposed,  that  these  verj- judgments  them- 
selves might  effect  somewhat  to  the  purpose,  lo  calm  and 
subdue  men's  spirits,  and  so  bring  about  a  more  sedate 
and  composed  state  of  things  at  last.  And  most  true  in- 
deed it  is,  that  they  are  very  apt  means  to  that  purpose. 
But  means,  you  must  still  remember,  are  but  means,  and 
suppose  an  agent  that  is  to  use  them ;  as  a  swoid  will  not 
cut  without  a  hand  to  manage  it,  and  a  proportionable 
hand.  The  inhabitants  of  the  world  should  learn  righte- 
ousness, when  God's  judgments  are  abroad  in  the  earth, 
Isa.  xxvi.  9.  But  do  they  "?  Do  not  we  all  know  that  na- 
tions, countries,  towns,  cities,  may  more  easily  be  ruined 
than  reformed,  more  easily  be  harassed  and  crushed  all  to 
pieces  than  purged  "?  Do  we  need  instances  1  We  cannot 
find  a  more  bright  one  than  the  nearest  to  ourselves,  to 
our  oA^Ti  view.  If  we  do  but  cast  an  eye  upon  this  very 
city,  it  hath  been  wasted  by  judgment  upon  judgment: 
think  what  the  plague  hath  done,  what  the  fire  hath  done, 
what  povert}'  invading  as  an  armed  man  here  and  there 
hath  done.  Is  the  city  more  reformed'?  grown  more  pious 
and  serious  1  doth  the  life  of  religion  appear  more  in  it  7 
is  it  become  more  sober  and  just '?  Let  inis  be  seriously 
considered,  and  then  think,  what  even  judgments  them- 
selves, as  severe  as  can  be  thought,  are  like  toefi^jcl  in  the 
world  without  the  Spirit  poured  forth.  You  have  heard 
enough  of  the  commotions  and  hurries  of  the  world  in 
other  parts ;  but  do  you  hear  of  its  being  grown  much  bet- 
ter even  in  those  parts?  And  admit  thai  such  judgments 
should  sober  men's  spirits  generally,  and  reduce  them  to 
more  calmness,  that  men  should  by  very  weariness  be  at 
length  brought  to  be  at  rest,  and  so  a  peaceable  and  pros- 
perous .state  of  things  ensue;  yet  what  would  that  alone  do 
to  make  the  times  good  1 

4.  What,  I  say,  would  a  prosperous  state  of  things  do 
(meaning  it  only  of  external  prosperity)  to  better  the  con- 
dition of  the  chiirch  of  God  ?  Such  a  good  state  of  things 
for  the  churcii,  must,  as  hath  been  said,  first  and  in  the 
principal  place  consist  in  the  flourishing  of  religinn.  and 
then  but  secondarily  in  external  tranquillity.  What  would 
the  latter  of  these  do  without  the  former  ■?  and  what  would 
become  of  the  former  without  the  Spirit  poured  forth  1  If 
we  had  never  so  happy  times  in  external  respects,  what 
would  bo  the  i.^sue  of  it,  in  reference  to  the  state  and  con- 
dition of  the  church  of  God  1  We  should  then  have,  as 
was  noted  of  old,  golden  chalices  and  wooden  priests  :  the 
church  would  be  a  glorious  sepulchre,  .splendid  without, 
but  full  of  rottenness  and  corruption  within.  Would  this 
better  our  case  ?  It  is  veiy  plain,  that  there  could  be 
noihjmr  more  beside  the  purpose  of  mending  the  state  of 
the  church,  than  prosperity  without  a  great  measure  of 
the  Spirit.     It  would  be  good  :u  subserviency,  nothing  in 


604 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT  IN 


Serm.  XIV. 


substitution  :  it  might  serve  the  Spirit,  but  cannot  supply- 
its  place  :  much  might  be  done  under  the  management  of 
the  Spirit  by  such  a  state  of  things  towards  the  promoting 
and  furthering  of  religion ;  but  without  that  Spirit  all 
would  go  to  ruin  :  religion  would  soon  languish  away  and 
come  to  nothing,  the  sun  of  external  prosperity  would  ex- 
hale the  life  and  spirit  and  vigour  of  it ;  as  experience 
has  often  shown  that  it  has  done  heretofore.  And  what 
external  prosperity  can  there  be,  while  the  minds  of  men 
are  so  very  various,  divided  into  varieties  of  parties  this 
way  and  that  1  There  cannot  be  a  prosperous  state,  while 
only  one  party  is  uppermost,  and  all  the  rest  under  op- 
pression. When  the  church  of  God  hath  been  in  so  di- 
vided a  condition,  have  you  ever  known  or  read  or  heard 
of  any  such  slate  of  things,  that  hath  been  so  favourable, 
as  to  deserve  to  be  called  a  prosperous  slate  1  If  it  hath 
been  favourable  to  some,  yet  it  halh,  it  may  be,  been 
equally  or  more  unfavourable  unto  very  many,  that  perhaps 
were  better  men  that  those  whom  the  times  smiled  upon. 
And  so  it  cannot  but  still  be,  where  there  are  many  par- 
ties :  every  party  cannot  be  uppermost :  and  unless  the 
Spirit  of  God  new-mould  men's  spirits,  whatever  party 
were  uppermost,  they  would  make  it  their  business  to 
crush  and  vex  and  disquiet  all  the  rest.  And  can  that  be 
a  state  fit  to  be  called  prosperous  1     But, 

5.  That  which  the  minds  of  many  may  be  apt  to  run 
upon,  is,  that  some  very  exact  form  of  governraeM  in  the 
church  would  be  the  specific,  or  rather  the  panj)Iiarmaco?v, 
to  cure  all  diseases  in  the  church  of  God,  and  make  a  very 
happy  time.  A  frame  of  things  exactly  squared  according 
to  their  apprehension,  the)'  think,  would  soon  do  the  busi- 
ness. The  mind?  of  many  are  apt  to  run  much  upon  this 
project.  But  most  forms,  that  can  be  t]  ought  on,  have 
been  tried  ;  and  what  have  they  done,  while  the  Spirit  of 
God  hath  not  animated  the  external  form  1  or  what  hope 
remains,  that  any  thing  could  be  done  by  an  exiernal  life- 
less form,  if  never  so  excellent  and  unexceptionable,  never 
so  agreeable  to  rule  1  The  expectation,  that  that  would 
do  the  business,  is  £is  if  a  person  were  dangerously  and  ex- 
tremely sick,  even  next  to  death,  and  any  should  go  about 
to  trim  him  up  and  dress  him  neatly,  put  on  him  a  well 
made  suit,  and  expect  that  this  should  effect  his  cure. 
Alas  !  what  needs  there  amongst  us  such  curiosity  for  a 
dead  thing  1  We  are  dead,  the  Spirit  of  God  is  retiring, 
retired  in  a  very  great  degree  :  to  what  purpose  would  it 
be  to  shape  and  figure  a  dead  thing  this  way  or  that  1  Just 
to  as  much  purpose,  as  the  endeavour  of  him  that  we  read 
of  in  Plutarch,  who  would  fain  erect  a  newl}^  dead  body 
in  the  posture  of  a  living  man  ;  but  alas  !  the  legs  yielded, 
the  hands  fell,  the  head  dropped  on  one  side  ;  so  that  the 
poor  defeated  person  was  forced  to  cry  out  at  last,  "  Decst 
aliquid  intus,  I  find  there  is  something  wanthig  within  ; 
there  wants  a  living  soul  to  support  and  aniniate  the 
frame."  So  it  must  be  in  our  case  too,  if  there  were  ever 
so  exact  order.  You  may  suppose  from  what  was  formerly 
said,  that  order  is  a  most  excellent  and  desirable  thing, 
and  necessary  to  the  prosperity  of  the  church  of  God. 
But  what  is  the  order  and  frame  of  a  thing  that  is  deadl 
If  a  plot  of  ground  should  be  laid  out  for  a  garden  ;  square 
it  never  so  accurately,  let  it  have  never  so  exact  a  figure, 
bestow  upon  it  every  thing  of  ornament  that  art  can  in- 
vent :  yet  if  nature  also  do  not  do  its  part,  if  the  sun  never 
shine  upon  it,  if  no  showers  or  dews  ever  descend,  would 
it  be,  think  you,  a  pleasant  flourishing  garden  1  We  have 
all  of  us  reason  to  have  done  expecting  much  from  lifeless 
outward  forms,  even  the  best  constitution  imaginable ;  while 
a  spirit  of  life  from  above  breathes  not,  despair  that  that  will 
ever  work  miracles,  or  do  any  great  things  amongst  us. 

Besides,  the  best  form  of  things  that  can  be  supposed, 
that  is,  such  as  would  be  more  serviceable  than  others 
unto  the  ends  and  purposes  which  should  be  aimed  at,  to 
depress  wickedness  and  keep  things  composed  and  in  order, 
could  never  last  long,  if  a  Spirit  from  God  do  not  animate 
it.  Lust  and  wickedness,  which  it  goes  about  to  curb,  and 
which  might  be  less  in  some  external  fruits  of  it,  so  long 
as  it  should  continue  curbed,  yet  would  grow  too  strong 
and  break  the  bonds.  As  you  know,  that,  let  the  body  of 
a  man  be  never  so  comely  and  beautiful  and  well  propor- 
tioned, yet  all  that  excellent  structure  and  fabric  will  soon 
dissolve  after  death  ;  beauty  is  gone  all  of  a  sudden,  ghast- 


liness  succeeds  in  the  room  of  it,  and  in  time  it  will  cor- 
rupt and  pulrify  within ;  and  that  corruption  will  break 
forth,  so  as  to  break  the  external  frame,  and  cause  part  to 
drop  from  part.  Therefore  never  expect  a  mere  external 
frame  of  things  to  better  our  case  much  or  long,  to  do  any 
miracles  in  that  kind.  And  I  may  add,  as  that  leads  me, 

6.  That  indeed  the  very  power  of  working  miracles  it- 
self, which  is  but  an  external  means,  would  not  better  the 
world  and  men's  spirits,  without  the  Spirit  of  God  ac- 
companying. It  is  true  indeed  they  could  not  be  wrought 
without  that  Spirit  in  the  agent ;  but  that  would  not  do 
without  the  Spirit  as  a  diffused  soul.  Many  may  be  ready 
to  imagine,  that  if  God  would  but  do  some  very  strange 
things  amongst  men,  work  many  astonishing  wonders,  fill 
the  world  and  the  time  with  prodigies  ;  then,  whereas  his 
memorial  is  in  so  great  part  extinct,  these  things  would 
etfectually  convince  men  of  their  atheism  and  infidelity, 
and  so  all  would  be  set  right.  But  what  did  miracles  do 
with  the  Jews  of  old  1  who  were  brought  out  of  Egypt  by 
a  succession  of  miracles,  by  plague  upon  plague  inflicted 
on  the  land  of  Egypt,  till  they  were  constrained  to  let  Is- 
rael go  !  who  were  brought  through  the  Red  sea  by  a  most 
astonishing  miracle,  the  sea  dividing  on  the  one  hand  and 
on  the  other,  and  their  enemies  pursuing  destroyed,  only 
by  withdrawing  that  miraculous  power,  and  letting  the 
sea  unite  again  !  who  were  led  through  the  wilderness  by 
a  continual  miracle,  the  pillar  of  cloud  and  fire  ;  and  fed 
by  another,  manna,  bread  from  heaven  I  who  had  the  great 
God  himself  appearing  with  so  stupendous  a  glory  upon 
mount  Sinai ;  speaking  with  the  voice  of  words,  that  six 
himdred  thousand  might  hear  at  once,  the  law,  the  ten 
words  !  yet  the  body  of  that  people  lapse  into  idolatry, 
while  the  Divine  glory  was  in  view  before  their  eyes,  and 
after  it  had  been  by  so  dreadful  a  voice  immediately  before 
forbidden  with  the  utmost  severity.  And  their  after-in- 
gratitude, infidelity,  mutinies,  rebellions,  murmurings, 
testify  how  little  miracles  did  amongst  them.  How  little 
did.they  do  in  Christ's  time  !  those  that  he  himself  wrought ! 
restoring  hearing  to  the  deaf,  and  sight  to  the  blind,  and 
speech  to  the  dumb,  and  life  to  the  dead  !  how  little  was 
effected,  save  only  to  heighten  and  aggravate  the  wicked- 
ness which  showed  itself  so  invincible  !  All  these  are  ex- 
ternal, things. 

But  if  we  should  think  of  what  is  internal  too  ;  the  com- 
mon notions  of  religion  ;  the  practical  dictates  of  natural 
conscience,  that  do  more  or  less  obtain  every  where 
amongst  men  ;  the  light  and  knowledge,  that  comes  by 
the  Gospel  discovery,  where  that  obtains ;  common  pru- 
dence, and  respect  to  self-interest ;  how  little  do  these 
things  do  towards  the  composing  of  the  world  and  the 
bettering  of  the  times !  It  is  plain,  that  light  is  more  easily 
extinguished  than  lust.  When  it  comes  to  a  contest,  when 
there  is  a  competition  between  corruption  and  conscience; 
alas  !  how  much  more  intent  are  men  to  mortify  thei'r 
consciences,  than  to  mortify  their  corruptions!  How 
feeble  and  impotent  a  thing  is  their  light !  All  the  light 
that  shines  doth  but  testify  against  them,  rather  than  di- 
rect or  reform  them ;  and  will  do  no  more,  till  the  Al- 
mighty Spirit  go  forth.  And  for  that  of  prudence  and 
respect  to  interest,  that  is  the  very  thing  that  undoes  men  ; 
that  is,  that  every  man  will  be  prudent  for  himself,  and 
mind  a  particular  interest  of  his  own  :  this  fills  the  world 
with  tumults  and  blood,  with  mischiefs  and  miseries  every 
where  ;  so  that  that  which  should  be  men's  preserver,  is 
their  destroyer,  even  self-love. 

The  .sum  of  all  is  this.  This  ought  to  make  us  despair 
that  ever  we  shall  see  a  better  world  and  state  of  things, 
till  this  blessed  Spirit  be  poured  down  upon  our  heads. 
Without  that,  things  will  be  growing  worse  and  worse  ;  it 
cannot  be  but  they  will  do  so ;  do  not  Ave  see,  that  they 
have  done  so  ?  The  Spirit  is  in  a  great  measure  gone,  re- 
tired even  from  Christian  assemblies.  When  do  we  hear 
of  the  conversion  of  a  soul,  of  any  stricken  and  pierced  to 
the  heart  by  the  word  of  God  1  And  what  is  that  like  to 
come  to,  think  we  1  what  would  it  come  to  in  this  city,  if 
always  in  a  continued  course  the  burials  should  exceed 
the  births  1  Must  it  not  be  the  very  desolation  of  all  at 
last  1  If  we  should  speak  of  burials  in  a  moral  sense ; 
alas  !  doth  the  number  of  converts  equal  the  number  of 
apostates]  But  take  it  in  a  natural  sense,  as  all  are  dying; 


Serm.  XV. 


REFERENCE  TO  THE  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH. 


605 


do  we  think,  that  there  are  Christians  brought  in,  serious 
Christians,  etieciually  become  so,  in  any  proponionablc 
number  to  the  deaths  of  good  people  amongst  us  "?  What 
doth  this  tend  to,  but  the  extinction  of  reli'^ionl  And  nut 
to  speak  of  the  rampant  wickedness  of  those  who  have 
cast  off  all  sense  and  fear  of  God  and  godliness,  but  only 
how  those  who  profess  religion  degenerate  and  grow  worse 
and  worse;  it  is  very  dismal  to  think,  how  coldly  affected 
they  are  towards  religion,  towards  the  ordinances  of  it,  to- 
wards the  Divine  presence ;  how  eagerly  they  fly  at  the 
world,  when  the  clouds  gather  so  thick  and  black,  and  all 
things  seem  to  conspire  to  a  storm;  their  ordinary  busi- 
ness, all  their  business,  must  go  on  just  as  it  did,  except 
that  of  souls,  except  that  for  eternity  and  another  world; 
which  must  be  neglected,  as  it  was  wont  to  be.  Is  not 
this  the  case  1  If  there  be  opportunities  of  solemn  prayer, 
of  mourning  and  fasting,  of  putting  in  for  a  part  and  share 
of  the  expected  mercy;  how  do  many,  if  we  may  not  say 
the  most  of  them  that  profess  religion  amongst  us,  as  it 
were  disclaim  their  part !  for  they  will  bear  no  part 
amongst  them  that  cry  for  mercy.  Think,  what  will  this 
come  to,  if  the  Spirit  of  the  living  God  be  still  withheld, 
and  do  not  awaken  men,  and  reduce  their  spirits  to  a  bet- 
ter state.  Despised  ordinances,  contemned  worship,  neg- 
lected seasons  and  opportunities  of  grace,  how  dreadful  a 
testimony  will  they  bear  in  the  consciences  of  many,  if 
once  light  should  come  to  be  extinguished  amongst  us, 
and  all  the  frame  of  things,  wherein  they  seem  to  take 
comfort,  should  be  dissolved  and  shattered  in  pieces  ! 


SERMON   XV.* 

It  remains  now  to  make  some  improvement  of  so  great 
and  important  a  subject,  as  we  have  been  upon — The  de- 
pendance  of  the  happy  state  of  the  church  of  God  upon  the 
pouring  forth  of  his  Spirit ; — which  shall  be  in  certain 
practical  notes  or  corollaries,  that  are  deducible  from  the 
whole  of  what  hath  been  opened  to  you.  And  we  shall 
begin,  where  we  ended  at  the  close  of  the  last  discourse. 

1.  Since  the  happiness  of  the  church  doth  so  immedi- 
ately and  necessarily  depend  upon  a  pouring  forth  of  the 
Spirit,  it  must  needs  be  of  very  dreadful  import,  when 
that  Spirit  retires,  when  there  is  a  manifest  suspension  of 
its  light  and  influence.  Every  gradual  retraction  of  that 
Spirit  speaks  a  vergency  to  death,  to  a  total  dissolution  ; 
as  if  the  whole  frame  of  the  church  were  ready  to  drop 
asunder.  It  is  a  dismal  thing,  when  that  which  is  the 
only  light  and  life  of  it  retires,  visibly  withdraws;  when 
that  Spirit  breathes  not  as  it  hath  done  through  the  world, 
souls  are  not  born  by  it  unto  God  in  a  proportion  to  what 
hath  been ;  considering,  that  this  is  the  only  way  of  en- 
tering into  God's  kingdom,  either  in  the  initial  or  consum- 
mate state  of  it,  the  kingdom  of  grace  or  the  kingdom  of 
glory.  It  is  a  dismal  thing,  when  conversions  are  grown 
rare,  and  inferior  in  number  to  apostacies;  when  Chris- 
tians are  not  born  so  fast  as  they  die,  whether  in  the  moral 
sense,  or  in  the  natural ;  for  all  die  alike.  This  ought  to 
be  considered  as  a  thing  of  dreadful  import,  when  the 
Spirit  works  not  as  he  hath  been  wont,  for  the  rescuing  of 
souls  out  of  a  precedent  death ;  and  further,  when  those 
that  live,  languish ;  and  much  more,  when  death  insensibly 
creeps  on  them  that  have  but  a  name  to  live  ;  as  you  knovV 
it  doth  with  many  languishing  persons,  seizing  one  limb 
first  and  then  another,  so  that  the  man  is  dead  while  he  is 
alive.  With  how  many  is  it  so,  that  have  lost  themselves 
either  in  the  cares  or  pleasures  of  this  world,  and  are  dead 
while  they  live  !  This  it  becomes  us  to  consider  as  a  most 
melancholy  case.  If  all  the  happiness  and  weal  of  the 
church  depend  upon  the  pouring  out  of  the  Spirit,  how 
dreadful  is  it,  when  there  is  a  discernible  retraction  ! 

2.  All  our  hope  of  good  lying  in  the  pouring  forth  of 
the  Spirit,  it  is  very  strange,  that  the  retraction  of  it  should 
not  be  considered  with  more  sense  ;  that  %ve  are  not  more 
apprehensive  of  so  dismal  a  case  as  that  is.  It  is  a  case 
exceeding  gloomy  in  itself,  as  hath  been  said;  but  liow 
strange  is  it,  that  we  should  so  little  understand  and  con- 

*  Preached  October  16,  1678. 


sider  it  as  such  !  that  this  should  be  our  danger,  lest  God 
should  be  quite  gone  from  amongst  us  1/efore  we  know  it! 
that  life  is  retiring,  but  we  perceive  it  not!  Alas  I  with 
too  many  there  is  scarce  life  enough  left  to  feel  themselves 
die,  or  light  enough  to  perceive  that  darkness  is  gathering 
upon  them.  Strange  that  men  should  be  dying,  and  say 
they  are  alive!  Light  is  dimini>hing,  and' blindness  in- 
creasing and  growing  upon  thcin,  yet  they  say  they  see 
well,  and  carry  it  as  if  nothing  ailed  them  !  This  is  a 
strange  infatuation  upon  the  minds  of  men,  even  of  the 
professors  of  religion  in  our  time  ;  we  keep  up  our  wonted 
course  while  we  can,  our  wonted  forms  and  wavs  of  wor- 
ship; we  assemble  as  we  have  been  accusiome^f  to  do,  we 
have  praying  and  preaching  and  other  ordinances  of  the 
Gospel ;  but  there  is  not  the  wonted  Spirit,  such  appear- 
ances and  demonstrations  of  the  power  and  presence  of 
the  Spirit  as  formerly,  and  yet  we  seem  not  aware  of  it. 
We  do  as  we  have  been  wont  at  other  times  ;  but  we  find 
it  not  with  our  .souls  in  what  we  do,  as  Christians  were 
used  to  find  it ;  as  it  is  said  of  that  mighty  man  Samson ; 
he  said,  I  will  go  otU  as  at  other  times  before,  and  ?hake 
myself,  but  he  wist  not  that  the  Lord  was  departed  from 
him,  Judg.  xvi.  20.  So,  we  seem  not  to  know  that  the 
Lord  is  departing,  but  say  we  will  do  as  at  other  times : 
indeed  we  reach  not  him ;  he  said  he  would  go  forth  ai'd 
shake  himself  as  at  other  times  ;  we  do  not  that,  but  as  the 
complaint  is  in  Isa,  Ixiv.  7.  .so  is  our  case;  There  is  none 
(scarce  any)  that  stir  up  themselves  to  take  hold  of  God  . 
for,  as  it  there  follows,  he  hath  hid  his  face  from  us  a  no 
consumed  us,  we  are  consuming,  because  of  our  iniquities. 
We  are  pining  away,  but  not  aware  of  it;  era}'  hairs  a^p 
here  and  there  upon  us,  but  we  seem  not  to  know  it.  We 
read  concerning  men  in  general  in  the  dying  hour,  Eccl. 
viii.  8.  No  man  hath  power  over  the  spirit  to  retain  the 
spirit,  neither  hath  he  power  in  the  day  of  death.  When 
the  soul  must  dislodge  and  be  gone,  no  man  can  hold  it; 
but  they  would  if  the}'  could,  men  are  loth  to  die ;  they 
would  retain  the  spirit  longer,  if  it  were  anj'  way  in  their 
power:  what  strivings  and  strugglings  for  breath  are  there 
in  dying  men;  but  there  seems  with  us  hardly  to  be  so 
much  as  that,  "  Oh  that  we  could  retain  the  Spirit  of  life 
and  grace "?"  It  is  not  indeed  in  our  power,  any  more 
than  to  retain  the  departing,  dislodging  soul,  when  the 
hour  is  come  that  it  must  be  gone  ;  but  it  is  strange,  that 
we  should  not  be  filled  with  complaint,  that  we  should 
cross  what  is  so  common  as  to  be  a  proverb;  every  thing 
would  live,  but  it  seems  so  would  not  we.  When  God  as 
it  were  sa}rs  to  us  by  what  he  doth,  (the  most  emphatical 
way  of  speaking,)  "  My  Spirit  shall  not  always  strive,"  it 
shall  no  longer  strive  ;  for  it  is  actually  withheld  from 
striving;  yet  we  dread  not  this  greatest  of  all  threats,  and 
when  the  threatening  is  enforced  b}-  a  gradual  execution, 
an  execution  already  in  a  dreadful  degree ;  not  to  be  afraid 
what  this  will  come  to,  is  very  strange. 

3.  We  further  collect,  that  such  a  dismal  state  of  things 
is  likely  immediately  to  forego  the  more  eminent  effusion 
of  the  Spirit,  and  the  shining  of  the  light  of  God's  (ace, 
here  spoken  of.  When  the  time  approaches,  concerning 
which  the  text  speaks,  then  a  most  dismal  gloominess  and 
darkness  must  be  expected  to  precede.  That  is  plainly 
implied,  when  it  is  said,  "I  will  no  more  hide  my  face:" 
I  have  done  it  hitherto,  but  will  not  do  it  any  more:  it 
bespeaks,  that  till  the  time  of  this  eminent  effusion  there 
was  a  very  displeased  hiding  of  God's  face,  and  a  great  re- 
traction aiid  holding  back  of  the  Spirit.  Other  scriptures, 
that  relate  as  I  conceive  t-o  the  same  eminent  season,  in- 
timate also  a  dreadful  foregoing  desolation.  The  prophet 
Isaiah  (chap,  xxxii.)  describes  the  desolation  of  the  Chris- 
tian church,  (for  1  doubt  not  his  prediction  is  ultimately 
meant  of  that,)by  the  emblem  of  the  land  of  Israel's  lying 
waste,  and  the  great  city,  the  metropolis,  being  all  ruined, 
the  very  houses  of  joy  in  the  joyou.«  city  covered  over  with 
briars  and  thorns,  ver.  13,  14.  And  thus  it  is  said  it  should 
be,  ver.  15.  Until  the  Spirit  be  poured  upon  us  from  on 
high  ;  then  the  wilderness  shall  be  a  fruitful  field,  and 
the  fruitful  field  be  counted  for  a  forest  ;  that  which  was 
before  reckoned  a  fruitful  field,  shall  now  seem  to  have 
been  but  a  wild  forest,  in  comparison  of  the  fruitfulness  it 
shall  now  arrive  at  by  the  eflusion  of  the  Spirit.     So  that 


C06 


THE  WORK  OF  THE  HOLY  SPIRIT  IN 


Serm.  XV. 


great  pouring  of  it  forth,  in  Ezek.  xxxvii.  meant  no  doubt 
of  the  same  time  with  this  in  the  text,  is  preceded  by  such 
a  forlorn  and  desolate  state  of  the  church,  that  it  is  repv.'- 
sented  by  the  emblem  of  a  slaughtered  army  covering  all 
the  ground  about  with  dead  carcasses,  till  the  Spirit  of 
life  enter  into  them,  bring  bone  to  bone,  cover  them  with 
flesh,  and  form  them  all  into  a  regular  army  of  living  men 
again,  ver.  1 — 14.  It  imports,  that  almost  a  universal 
death,  next  to  total,  will  be  upon  the  church  before  this 
happy  day.  And  do  not  we  seem  in  a  tendency  thither  1 
We  seem  to  be  descending  gradually  into  the  dark  shady 
vale,  the  region  of  darkness  and  of  death :  nor  must  we 
expect  it  to  be  silent  darkness;  no  doubt  it  will  rather 
imitate  that  of  hell,  a  region  turbid  as  well  as  dark.  A 
night  seems  approaching,  that  will  be  equally  stormy  and 
gloomy  ;  for  it  is  the  season  of  God's  anger.  It  is  never 
to  be  thought,  that  he  will  be  neutral  towards  us  ;  if  he  be 
not  a  friend,  he  will  be  an  enemy  ;  when  he  ceases  to  be 
our  light  and  life,  and  hope  and  joy,  it  cannot  be  but  he 
must  become  an  astonishing  terror.  "  Be  not  a  terror  unto 
me,  thou  art  my  hope,"  says  the  prophet,  Jcr.  xvii.  17. 
When  he  is  not  the  one,  he  must  be  the  other.  Are  we 
prepared  to  meet  him  in  such  a  way  and  in  such  a  time  1 
It  cannot  but  be  a  dreadful  time,  the  time  of  managing  his 
controversy:  when  he  hideth  his  face  in  displeasure,  that 
is  not  all,  it  is  not  a  bare  hiding.  Observe  that  passage  in 
Deut.  xxxi.  17.  "  Then  my  anger  shall  be  kindled  against 
them  in  that  day,  and  I  will  forsake  them,  and  I  will  hide 
my  face  from  them,  and  they  shall  be  devoured,  and  many 
evils  and  troubles  shall  befall  them:"  and  what  then  1  It 
follows,  "  So  that  they  will  say  in  that  day.  Are  not  these 
evils  come  upon  us,  because  our  God  is  not  amongst  us  1 
and  I  will  surely  hide  my  face  in  that  day;"  as  it  follows 
again  in  ver.  18.  This  is  to  make  a  way  for  wrath  ;  and 
when  you  can  see  him  no  longer,  you  shall  hear  from  him 
in  a  most  terrible  way. 

The  case  of  the  Christian  church  seems  to  be  as  Israel 
was  represented,  in  Psal.  cvi.  35,  &c.  They  were  mingled 
among  the  heathen,  and  learned  their  works:  and  they 
served  their  idols,  which  were  a  snare  unto  them.  And, 
ver.  39.  Thus  they  were  defiled  with  their  own  works; 
(now  they  are  called  their  own,  since  they  had  adopted 
them,  and  so  made  them  their  own  ;)  and  went  a  whoring 
with  their  own  inventions.  What  follows  there,  and  what 
may  we  expect  to  follow  in  the  like  case  1  "  For  this  the 
Lord  abhorred  his  own  inheritance,"  ver.  40.  Now  take 
them  who  will,  they  are  an  abomination  to  the  Lord,  he 
seems  to  care  no  more  for  them.  As  to  the  former  part,  is 
not  this  manifestly  our  case ;  the  Christian  religion  is  in 
great  part  become  paganish.  We  lately  showed,  how  little 
good  nominal  Christianity  doth  to  the  world,  where  that 
only  doth  obtain.  How  plain  is  it,  that  Christianity  hath 
let  in  paganism  unto  a  dreadful  degree  !  And  now,  when 
the  time  of  controversy  comes,  the  day  of  recompense  and 
year  of  vengeance,  which  is  in  God's  heart,  how  terrible  a 
day  will  that  be  !  When  that  day  comes,  that  shall  burn  as 
an  oven,  and  all  the  hemisphere  as  it  were  of  the  church 
be  as  a  fiery  vault !  when  the  Lord  shall  bathe  his  sword 
in  heaven,  as  the  expression  is  in  Isa.  xxxiv.  5.  as  it  were 
drench  it  with  vivid  celestial  fire,  that  it  may  pierce  like 
lightning  !  when  he  shall  whet  his  glittering  sword,  lift  up 
his  hand  to  heaven,  and  say,  I  live  for  ever,  I  will  render 
vengeance  to  mine  enemies:  (Deut.  xxxii.  40,  41.)  when 
he  shall  set  himself  to  contest  with  the  Antichristian  spirit, 
that  hath  lurked  under  the  assumed  and  injurious  pre- 
tence and  profession  of  the  Christian  name  ;  the  aposta- 
tical,  the  worldly  spirit,  that  hath  entered  into  the  church, 
and  wrought  in  it  with  such  malignity  ;  that  spirit  of  envy, 
malice,  hatred,  bitterness  ;  that  profane,  atheistical  spirit ; 
that  spirit  of  hypocrisy  and  formality  !  when  he  shall  come 
to  a  direct  contest  and  grapple  with  all  among  whom  that 
spirit  dwells  and  rules  ;  how  can  we  think  but  that  will  be 
a  very  dreadful  day?  And  do  we  know  how  near  it  is  1 
May  it  not  for  ought  we  know  be  even  at  hand  1  May  we 
not  be  upon  the  very  borders  of  that  turbid  darkness,  in 
which  all  the  rage  of  hell  shall  play  its  part,  the  spirits  of 
men  be  let  loose,  the  devils  not  yet  bound  and  ready  to  do 
their  uttermost,  when  they  know  their  time  is  short ;  the 
very  hour  and  power  of  darkness,  when  all  things  shall 
conspire  to  make  the  church  a  chaos  and  place  of  confu- 


sion, when  the  elements  shall  be  as  it  were  commissioned 
to  fight  one  another,  and  the  powers  of  heaven  shall  shake? 
How  are  we  prepared,  in  what  posture  to  enter  into  such 
a  state  as  that  is?  It  is  a  dismal  thing  to  live  a  winter  a 
continual  night,  in  such  a  place  as  you  have  heard  Green- 
land to  be  :  one  would  not  do  it,  unless  unavoidable  ne- 
cessity drove  ;  and  if  one  must,  he  would  make  provision 
for  such  a  winter-night  all  that  he  could.  How  then  are 
we  provided  for  such  a  time  1 

4.  We  may  note  again  hence,  how  adorable  the  power 
and  greatness  of  that  spirit  is,  that  can  turn  such  a  chaos, 
such  a  state  of  darkness  and  horror  and  confusion,  into 
light  and  peace,  into  life  and  beauty,  into  harmony  and 
glory.  How  adorable  is  that  Spirit !  how  great  and  glo- 
rious should  it  be  in  our  eyes  upon  that  account !  Let  us 
use  our  thoughts  as  much  as  we  will,  we  cannot  make  a 
too  gloomy  representation  of  the  time  just  spoken  of, 
wherein  the  Lord's  face  shall  be  hid,  and  the  Spirit  with- 
held. But  when  we  have  dwelt  in  the  contemplation  of 
the  sadness  and  di.smalness  of  that  time  awhile,  then  what 
cause  have  we,  and  what  advantage  thence,  to  take  oar 
rise  to  greaten  and  heighten  our  thoughts  concerning  this 
blessed  Almighty  Spirit,  that  can  make  so  happy  a  change 
as  soon  as  it  comes  forth,  as  soon  as  the  divine  light  shines 
again!  What  a  change  will  it  be  !  Amidst  all  those  ca 
lamities  that  the  church  complains  of,  (Psalm  Ixxx.)  see 
where  they  apprehend  the  redress  to  be.  Turn  us  again, 
O  God,  and  cause  thy  face  to  shine,  and  we  shall  be  saved ; 
which  is  repeated  no  less  than  three  times  in  this  psalm, 
ver.  3,  7,  19.  We  are  cured  all  of  a  sudden,  all  things  are 
redressed,  if  thou  do  but  turn  us  and  cause  thy  face  to  shine. 
How  soon  doth  the  appearance,  the  first  visit  of  the  sun  to 
the  horizon  wherein  we  are,  transform  a  region  of  dark- 
ness into  pleasant  light !  Look  upon  that  wretched  state  of 
things  wherein  the  Christian  church  is,  and  wherein  we 
may  well  expect  it  further  to  be,  and  in  a  deeper  degree : 
if  we  think,  that  however  when  the  Spirit  is  poured  out, 
all  is  well,  how  adorable  ought  that  Spirit  to  be  tons  !  that 
mighty  Spirit,  that  can  even  of  a  sudden  new-create  the 
world,  make  new  heavens  and  new  earth,  difi'use  its  light 
and  influence  every  where,  clothe  all  with  lustre  and 
glory  !  And  truly  I  believe  we  must  be  brought  to  have 
higher  thoughts  of  the  Spirit  than  we  have,  before  we  see 
so  good  days  as  we  would  wish  we  might !  Alas  !  how 
diminishingly  is  it  conceived  and  spoken  of  amongst  us  ! 
We  have  the  name  of  the  Spirit  or  of  the  Holy  Ghost 
many  times  in  our  mouths,  wiien  our  hearts  ascribe  not 
honour  to  him,  we  glorify  him  not  as  God  in  our  concep- 
tions :  no,  the  notions  of  our  minds  and  dispositions  of  our 
hearts  are  with  too  many,  as  if  we  had  not  "heard  whe- 
ther there  be  any  Holy  Ghost ;"  or  as  if  it  signified  a  mere 
nothing  with  us.  But  it  concerns  us  to  greaten  our  thoughts 
concerning  the  Spirit  of  the  living  God.  When  it  works 
as  the  Spirit  of  nature,  it  renews  the  face  of  the  earth,  re- 
plenishes all  the  region  with  life.  What  would  this  crea- 
tion be,  if  all  divine  influence  were  retracted  and  withheld, 
by  which  every  thing  lives,  and  which  is  attributed  to  the 
Spirit  of  God,  as  the  active  principle  that  works  everywhere 
in  the  creation  of  the  world,  moving  upon  the  abyss  in  the 
renewing  of  it  from  time  to  time  1  By  him  and  from  him 
there  is  such  a  thing  as  life  in  all  the  creation  ;  he  works 
all  in  all.  But  consider  it  also  as  a  Spirit  of  holiness,  of  di- 
vine life  and  power  in  the  Spirits  of  men  ;  what  a  mighty 
Agent  is  that,  that  can  spread  such  an  influence  every  where, 
unto  the  remotest  corners  of  this  world  !  and  can  reach 
every  heart  of  those  that  belong  to  God,  and  all  at  once  ; 
and  pierce  into  them  with  so  mighty  power,  that  though 
all  the  art  in  the  world  cannot  persuade  and  change  the 
mind  of  a  man,  even  in  a  matter  of  common  concernment, 
if  he  be  resolved,  yet  this  Spirit  can  transform  where  it 
touches,  and  overcome,  if  it  will,  even  in  the  first  attempt ! 
Oh !  what  homage  should  our  souls  within  us  pay  to  this 
Almighty  Spirit!  In  how  prostrate  a  posture  should  we 
be  !  How  should  we  adore  that  Spirit,  that  can,  when  it 
will,  fill  all  every  where  with  light  and  life  I 

5.  We  collect  further,  that  the  grace  of  the  Spirit  is  mo.st 
admirably  condescending,  that  it  will  ever  vouchsafe  to 
come  down  into  such  a  world  as  this  is ;  that  there  should 
be  a  time,  in  which  such  a  favour  is  designed,  as  this,  "  I 
will  pour  out  my  Spirit."   Well  may  it  be  called  the  Spirit 


Serm.  XV. 


REFERENCE  TO  THE  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH. 


CO"! 


of  grace,  the  Spirit  of  all  guodiiess  and  benignity  and 
sweetness,  that  it  will  ever  vouchsafe  to  visit  our  world,  a 
world  so  drenched  in  impurity,  and  so  environed  with 
malignant  darkness.  How  well  does  the  uvurm  agree, 
"  The  Spirit  of  grace  !"  So  hellish  is  the  malignity,  that 
wouM  despise  such  a  Spirit :  he  is  called  so  on  purpose, 
we  may  suppose,  by  the  author  to  the  Hebrews,  to  aggra- 
vate that  malignity ;  And  hath  done  despite  to  the  Spirit 
of  grace,  Heb.  x.  "29.  But  how  magnificently  glorious  is 
that  grace,  that  will  finally  overcome  this  malignity  !  That 
this  Spirit  will  come  down,  and  spread  its  light  and  iiiflu- 
ences  through  so  much  deformity  and  pollution  and  dark- 
ness, as  is  every  where  in  this  world ;  that  it  should  be- 
come a  soul  unto  such  a  world !  What  if  an  angel  of  God 
would  humble  himself  to  become  a  soul  to  a  worm,  to  ani- 
mate a  worml  but  a  stranger  humiliation  far  it  is,  that 
the  Spirit  of  God  should  become  as  it  were  a  soul  to  such 
a  world  as  this.  God  says,  "  I  have  poured  out  my  Spirit 
upon  it,  and  now,  will  no  more  hide  my  face."  It  should 
put  our  hearts  into  raptures.  How  should  we  fall  down 
and  adore  the  Spirit  of  life  and  grace  !  Wilt  thou  do  this  1 
wilt  thou  come  down  into  such  a  world  as  this  1 

6.  We  may  note  further,  that  the  face  of  God  shall  never 
shine,  but  where  he  doth  pour  out  his  Spirit.  His  face 
will  always  remain  hid  towards  the  church,  till  the  time 
comes  that  he  pours  out  his  Spirit.  It  will  be  of  good 
serv^ice  to  consider  this.  Many  vainly  promise  themselves 
halcyon  days  without  the  consideration  of  any  influence  of 
the  Spirit  connected  with  it ;  as  if  the  aspects  of  Provi- 
dence could  be  favourable  to  them,  and  they  could  do  well 
enough  without  the  Spirit :  if  we  can  but  enjoy  peace  and 
tranquillity,  free  trade,  and  liberty  to  walk  without  check 
or  control  in  the  ways  that  we  like  best,  though  without 
the  other;  yet  we  are  apt  to  think,  that  our  happiness 
would  be  sufficiently  provided  for.     But  we  are  not  to  ex- 


pect, that  the  aspects  of  Providence  will  be  favourable, 
without  a  concurring  effusion  of  the  Divine  Spiiii :  it  is 
neitlier  like  to  be;  nor  would  be  to  any  good  purpose,  if 
it  should. 

It  is  not  like  to  be  ;  for  why  should  we  supp<jse  it 
should  1  What  is  the  church  of  God,  when  the  Spirit  is 
withdrawn  and  gone  1  what  are  they  that  call  ihembclves 
of  it,  more  than  other  men  1  If  the  Spirit  be  gone,  what 
is  it  but  an  Aceldama"!  a  Golgotha!  a  place  of  skulls,  a 
place  of  carcasses!  Do  we  think,  that  the  DiVine  glory 
shall  only  serve  to  adorn  sepulchres'?  that  the  more  glori- 
ous and  pleasing  aspects  of  Providence  shall  only  serve  for 
thatl  You  cannot  long  sever  and  keep  off  from  death  in- 
ternal rottenness  and  corruption:  and  surely  it  is  very 
unlikely,  that  God  should  take  pleasure  to  discover  him- 
self and  to  display  his  glory  among  such,  in  the  more  re- 
markable works  of  his  favourable  providence. 

And  to  what  purpose  would  it  be,  if  he  should  t  What 
should  we  be  the  better  for  a  slate  of  external  tranquillity 
and  peace,  if  the  Spirit  be  withheld  1  Sure  you  will  think 
religion  to  be  necessary  at  least  to  the  church;  otherwise 
what  distinguishes  that  from  another  community  of  men"? 
But  what  a  satl  frame  of  religion  must  there  be,  if  the 
Spirit  of  God  be  not  in  it  1  We  cannot  call  that  state  pros- 
perous to  the  church  wherein  the  Spirit  breathes  not,  un- 
less sensuality  will  be  the  felicity  of  the  church,  unless  we 
think  ourselves  warranted  to  abandon  all  care  of  the  soul, 
and  the  belief  of  immortality  and  of  a  world  to  come, 
as  if  these  were  only  mistakes  and  delusions :  for  great 
external  prosperity  to  the  church  witliout  the  Spirit  accom- 
panying it,  commonly  issues  in  irreligion.  That  alone  de- 
serves to  be  esteemed  a  good  state  of  things  for  the  church 
of  God,  wherein  the  people  of  God  every  where  are  work- 
ing and  framing  for  a  blessed  eternity :  and  that  they  will 
never  be  without  much  of  the  Divine  Spirit. 


THE 
OBLIGATIONS  FROM  NATURE  AND  REVELATION 

TO    FAMILY    RELIGION    AND    WORSHIP, 

REPRESENTED  AND  PRESSED  IN 
SIX  SERMONS. 


TO  THE  READER. 

The  favourable  acceptance,  which  the  generality  of  serious  Christians  have  given  to  Mr.  Howe's  late  posthumous 
treatise  concerning  the  prosperous  state  of  the  Christian  Interest  before  the  end  of  time,  hath  encouraged  me  to  take 
the  same  pains  in  fitting  for  the  press  the  following  sermons  of  the  same  excellent  author  concerning  Family  Religion. 
The  copy,  transcribed  by  some  unknown,  but  skilful  hand,  different  from  that  by  which  the  sermons  already  published 
were  preserved,  was  communicated  to  me  by  my  worthy  friend  Mr.  Herman  Hood. 

In  the  treatise  just  mentioned,  Mr.  Howe  speaks  of  this  as  one  of  the  ways,  by  which  we  may  hope  that  the  Spirit 
poured  out  Avill  produce  the  better  stale  of  religion  which  we  are  expecting,  namely,  by  means  of  family  order*  more 
generally  and  vigorously  set  on  foot  among  the  professors  of  Christianity.  And  certainly  we  cannot  reasonably  enter- 
tain strong  hopes  of  the  revival  of  the  power  of  godliness  either  in  our  own  age  or  the  succeeding,  till  this  necessary 
part  of  the  form  of  it  becomes  general  among  Christians.  As  long  as  a  customary  neglect  prevails  in  sea.soning  the 
rising  age  with  proper  instructions  in  the  families  to  which  they  belong;  while  our  youth,  that  spring  from  parents  or 
are  intrusted  with  masters  who  bear  a  Christian  name,  grow  up  altogether  disused  from  the  daily  exercises  of  social 
piety ;  the  seed  of  the  church  will  soon  be  lost  among  the  men  of  the  world,  and  religion  must  die  away  without  some 
very  supernatural  reviving. 

This  just  apprehension  occasioned  that  agreement  among  the  protestant  dissenting  ministers  of  this  city,  of  which 
mention  is  made  at  the  beginning  of  these  discoui  ses,  that  were  preached  in  pursuance  of  it  in  the  year  1693,  to  engage 
the  attention  of  their  several  congregations  at  one  and  the  same  time  to  this  very  great  and  important  duty.  Mr. 
George  Hammond  at  that  time  published  a  discourse  upon  the  subject,  at  the  desire  of  the  united  ministers ;  to  which 
Mr.  Matthew  Barker  annexed  an  appendix  :  and  Mr.  Samuel  Slater  printed  a  course  of  sermons  upon  the  head.  I 
have  been  informed,  that  that  general  endeavour  had  the  good  effect,  by  God's  blessing,  to  dispose  several  heads  of 
families  to  set  up  religious  exercises  in  them. 

Another  effort  was  made  lately  with  as  general  concurrence  by  our  ministers  in  this  city,  on  November  20,  1720,  to 
enforce  the  same  needful  practice ;  I  hope  not  altogether  without  success. 

But  still  is  there  not  too  visible  reason  to  fear,  that  the  neglect  of  family  religion  is  a  growing  evil  among  US'? 
Without  prying  unnecessarily  into  the  affairs  of  families,  it  is  unavoidable  to  those  who  have  any  conversation  in  the 
world,  to  hear  from  such  as  have  been  servants  or  residents  in  the  houses  of  many  who  make  great  pretensions  to 
religion  without  doors,  that  there  is  no  more  acknowledgment  of  God  among  them  in  daily  family  devotion,  than  if 
they  believed  no  such  thing  being. 

I  thought  therefore,  that  it  might  be  serviceable  to  publish  this  short  set  of  discourses  upon  the  argument ;  which 
appear  to  me  to  have  placed  the  duty  upon  the  most  clear  and  indisputable  foot,  so  as  to  be  fit  to  reach  all  that  are 
open  to  conviction  ;  with  a  plainness  for  the  greatest  part  suitable  to  the  meanest  capacity,  and  yet  with  a  strength 
not  to  be  evaded  by  the  most  judicious,  and  at  the  same  time  with  a  life  and  spirituality  fit  to  impress  every  serious 
mind. 

It  is  no  wonder  to  find  people,  who  evidently  discover  a  disaffection  to  religion,  hardly  drawn  to  the  stated  practice 
of  its  exercises  in  their  houses.  Till  their  hearts  are  touched  with  a  lively  sense  and  relish  of  true  piety,  it  cannot  be 
expected  that  they  should  be  forward  this  way,  but  rather  keep  themselves  in  countenance  in  their  neglect  by  the 
number  of  like  examples  among  such  as  have  not  cast  off  all  pretence  to  religion.  The  wonder  is  that  any,  who  give 
reason  from  the  rest  of  their  conduct  for  apprehending  them  in  the  judgment  of  charity  to  have  religion  at  heart,  yet 
should  omit  so  plain  and  profitable  a  duty. 

The  common  reasons  alleged  by  such  are,  either  their  inability  to  express  themselves  properly  in  family  devotions  ; 
or  an  insuperable  modesty,  which  will  not  allow  them  to  speak  before  others  with  any  freedom  of  thought  or  tolerable 
possession  of  themselves. 

And  I  freely  allow,  that  the  one  or  the  other  of  these  may  be  the  case  with  persons  sincerely  religious,  so  far  as  to 
hinder  them  from  the  performance  of  family-worship  to  edification,  at  least  at  first,  without  the  assistance  of  forms. 
But  in  God's  name  let  none  continue  the  omission  of  so  plain  a  duty  out  of  a  superstitious  prejudice  against  precom- 

*  Christ.  Interest,  p.  576. 


Serm.  1. 


THE  OBLIGATIONS  TO  FAMILY  RELIGION. 


G09 


]3osed  prayers.  Our  forefathers  the  puritans  were  far  from  having  an  aversion  to  forms  as  such.  Nor  is  oar  dissent 
founded  upon  a  dislike  of  all  use  of  them  even  in  public ;  we  only  declare  against  the  use  of  some  passages  which 
appear  to  us  exceptionable,  and  against  being  so  tied  down  to  them,  as  to  be  obliged  invariably  to  use  them  without 
alteration  or  addition.  Most  sober  writers  have  concurred  in  advising  to  make  use  of  them  in  the  cases  mentioned 
till  people  can  arrive  at  more  improvement  of  judgment  and  a  greater  presence  of  mind.  Many  dissenters  have  pulv 
lished  "forms  for  the  assistance  of  those"  to  whom  they  were  needful :  as  in  Mr.  Baxter's  Family  Book  •  Mr.  Mur- 
ray's Closet  Devotions,  recommended  by  Mr.  Henry:  Mr.  Henry  hath  published  some  himself,  at  the  end  ol  his 
Method  of  Prayer.  And  as  Mr.  Howe  in  one  of  the  following  discourses  declares  his  judgment  for  the  use  of  them, 
rather  than  the  duty  should  be  omitted;  so  his  practice  wa.s  agreeable.  There  is  a  small  book  in  octavo,  entitled 
"  Prayers  for  Families,"  printed  by  Mr.  Thomas  Parkhurst  without  any  author's  name,  about  the  year  109.5 ;  of  which 
the  late  reverend  Mr.  Jeremiah  Smith  gave  me  this  account  many  years  ago.  Upon  the  marriage  of  a  daughter  of 
the  right  honourable  Philip  Lord  Wharton,  the  lady  being  desirous  to  have  the  worship  of  God  kepi  op  in  the  family 
into  which  she  was  entering,  requested  Mr.  Howe,  Mr.  William  Taylor,  then  his  lordship's  chaplain,  and  Mr.  Smith, 
to  draw  up  some  prayers  for  that  purpose.  Mr.  Smith,  according  to  his  usual  modesty,  declined  bearing  a  part  in 
the  service.  But  Mr.  Howe  and  Mr.  Taylor  complied  with  the  request ;  and  their  composures  were  privately  printed, 
and  made  use  of  in  that  lady's  family. 

I  only  mention  these  things,  to  prevent  the  misapprehension  of  any,  as  if  in  what  I  have  said  I  had  offered  any 
thing  singular.  All  who  love  religion  in  earnest,  v.hether  in  or  out  of  the  public  establishment,  whether  in  their 
judgments  they  prefer  praying  by  forms  or  otherwise,  will  I  doubt  not  agree  in  this;  that  it  is  better  that  God  should 
be  worshipped  either  the  one  way  or  the  other,  both  in  secret,  and  in  families,  and  in  public  a.ssemblies,  than  that  men 
should  live  in  any  of  these  respects,  as  "  without  God  in  the  world." 

For  my  own  part,  I  should  be  glad  that  every  head  of  a  family  were  fully  capable  from  time  to  time  to  represent 
the  case  of  that  under  his  charge  with  propriety  and  life,  in  supplication  and  praise  and  confession,  according  to  all 
varying  circumstances.  But  where  that  cannot  be,  yet  I  rejoice  to  know  or  to  hear  of  a  family,  that  seriously  and 
solemnly  calls  upon  the  Lord  in  any  way.  Those  who  begin  with  a  form,  may  find  them.selves  gradually  emboldened 
to  go  further;  and  either  totally  in  time  lay  that  way  aside  ;  or  sometimes  pray  the  one  way  and  sometimes  the  other, 
as  they  find  the  temper  of  their  spirits  to  be  ;  or,  if  they  cannot  get  over  the  difficulties,  which  first  made  it  necessary 
for  them  to  use  the  assistance  of  others'  composures,  yet  they  may  be  able  gradually  to  intersperse  a  sentence  here  and 
there  suitable  to  special  occurrences  in  their  family,  without  any  tremor. 

And  after  all,  whether  our  words  flow  from  the  abundance  of  the  heart,  or  we  endeavour  to  excite  affections 
answerable  to  what  the  words  before  us  suggest ;  if  the  God  who  knows  the  heart  sees  sincerity  and  true  devotion  in 
the  worshipper;  it  will  undoubtedly  be  accepted,  according  to  that  a  man  hath,  and  not  according  to  that  which  he 
hath  not. 

I  commend  these  discourses  to  the  perusal  of  all  serious  Christians,  though  of  differing  persuasions  in  lesser  mat- 
ters, earnestly  begging,  that  by  God's  blessing  they  may  reach  the  end  of  the  author  in  preaching  them,  and  of  the 
transcriber  in  preparing  them  for  public  view  ;  namely,  the  revival  of  religion  in  families,  and  by  that  means  the  dif- 
fusing of  it  far  and  wide  in  the  present  generation  and  in  those  which  are  to  come. 

I  am 


Prcscot-Street, 
May  nth,  1738, 


Your  hearty  well-wisher 

for  your  best  interests, 

JOHN  EVANS. 


SERMON  I.* 

Josh.  xxiv.  15. 
But  as  for  me  and  my  house,  ice  will  serve  the  Lord. 

This  is  the  magnanimous  resolution  of  that  great  and 
good  man,  Joshua,  notwithstanding  the  supposed  revolt  of 
all  the  people  of  Israel  from  God,  who  had  been  bound  to 
him  by  the  most  sacred  and  endearing  ties.  "  Though  you," 
says  he,  "should  all  go  ofl^  and  apostatize  from  God,  even 
to  a  man,  after  all  the  great  and  glorious  things  that  he 
hath  wrought  among  you  and  for  you;  that  shall  not  alter 
me:  through  his  grace,  the  course  that  I  will  take,  and 
that  mine  shall  take,  whom  I  can  have  any  influence  upon 
or  any  power  over,  shall  be  the  same  it  was.  I  and  my 
house  will  serve  the  Lord  notwithstanding.  Though  you 
should  all  turn  pagans  and  idolaters  to  a  man,  that  shall 
not  overturn  the  religion  of  my  family  or  of  my  closet,  but 
there  shall  be  serving  of  the  Lord  still." 

It  hath  been  an  unanimous  resolution  among  the  minis- 
ters of  indulged  congregations  in  and  about  this  city,  to 
insist  upon  the  subject  of  family  worship,  even  all  at  once, 
at  least  as  many  as  to  whom  it  was  possible ;  and  to  begin 
upon  it  this  very  day,  as  I  doubt  not  they  generally  do. 
And  I  should  as  little  doubt  the  approbation  and  concur- 
rence of  divers  other  reverend  persons  in  the  ministry,  who 
are  not  of  that  character,  if  there  had  been  the  same  op- 
portunity of  consulting  them  and  of  knowing  their  sense; 
that  is,  of  as  many  as  do  seriou.sly  desire  and  covet  to  see 
•  Preached  December  lOtli,  1693, 


the  prosperous  and  flourishing  state  of  serious,  vital,  and 
practical  religion  and  godliness  in  our  days.  But  ihey. 
who  could  confer  and  agree  to  concur  in  such  an  endea- 
vour as  this,  have  done  it  with  all  the  cheerfulness  and 
unanimity  that  could  be  thought.  Indeed,  since  that  reso- 
lution was  taken,  a  providence  hath  occurred  among  vs, 
which  some  might  reckon  would  have  diverted  and  altered 
it  for  the  present:  a  further  breach,  which  God  hath  made 
upon  our  congregation,  by  the  late  decease  of  a  consider- 
able and  very  u.seful  member  of  it,  worthy  Mr.  Collet.  Of 
whom  divers  might  expect  to  hear  a  distinct  account  given 
them;  apprehending,  that  it  would  not  be  so  much  an  or- 
nament to  him  or  to  his  name  when  gone,  as  a  means  of 
instruction  to  them  who  are  left  behind. 

But  I  am  under  restraint  as  to  this:  partly  by  my  rela- 
tion ;  but  more  principally  by  his  own  express  prohibition, 
who  declared  his  unwillingness  to  be  made  the  subject  of 
a  funeral  sermon.  And  that  prohibition  was  equal  (as  any 
might  understand)  to  the  most  copious  one  that  could  hare 
been  made  by  way  of  commendation.  For  it  more  repre- 
sented the  temper  of  his  spirit,  than  my  words  could  have 
done:  the  meekness,  the  humility,  the  modesty  oi'  it :  and 
was  most  agreeable  to  the  habitual  frame,  from  whence 
the  way  of  his  walkinsr  proceeded  ;  steady,  but  still  and 
without  noise;  and  showed  how  willing  he  was,  that  his 
exit  out  of  this  world  might  be  with  as  much  silence,  as  his 
course  through  it  was. 

Yet  however,  had  I  been  to  have  preached  a  funeral 
sermon  upon  his  account,  I  should  never  have  laid  aside 
for  that  the  thoughts  of  this  text.  For  I  could  not  have 
found  one  in  the  whole  Bible,  from  whence  I  might  have 


610 


THE  OBLIGATIONS  TO 


Serjl  1. 


more  taken  occasion  to  represent  him,  as  to  his  person  and 
as  to  his  family,  as  an  example  of  both  personal  and  do- 
mestical religion,  single  and  family  godliness.  And  indeed 
were  they  who  profess  godliness  generally  in  these  respects 
like  him,  there  would  be  much  less  need  of  preaching  upon 
such  a  subject,  or  of  taking  up  such  a  resolution  as  you 
have  heard  hath  been  general  in  reference  thereunto. 

But  it  hath  been  generally  apprehended  and  feared,  by 
them  whom  God  hath  set  as  watchmen  amongst  us,  that 
the  case  is  too  much  otherwise;  and  that  the  religion  of 
families  languisheth,  or  indeed  hath  no  place  at  all  in 
many  lamilies,  where  yet  there  is  a  profession  of  and  a 
pretence  unto  godliness  above  the  common  rate.  For  my 
own  part,  I  do  not  know  that  there  is  this  sinful  omission 
with  any  of  you  that  have  families;  I  do  not  know  that 
there  is:  and  therefore  I  cannot  be  understood,  without 
great  injury  to  me,  to  intend  a  reflection  upon  any  parti- 
cular person.  But  yet  for  all  that,  I  cannot  think  a  dis- 
course upon  this  subject  needless :  for  it  is  possible,  many 
may  be  guilty  of  this  omission,  though  I  know  nothing  of 
it ;  who  do  not  covet  to  pry  into  families,  beyond  any  par- 
ticular occasion  or  call  that  I  may  have  thereunto.  And 
if  it  be  so,  it  is  not  to  be  despaired  of,  but  that  through  the 
blessing  of  God  his  word  may  be  made  use  of  to  effect  a 
conviction  and  a  reformation  of  so  great  and  so  insuffer- 
able an  evil. 

And  it  is  possible  too,  that  it  may  serve  for  the  confirm- 
ation of  such  in  that  good  course,  as  may  be  tempted  to  de- 
sist from  it.  For  have  none  ever  come  within  the  compass 
of  your  knowledge,  who  have  for  some  time  continued  to 
practise  and  keep  on  foot  the  worship  of  God  in  their  fa- 
milies, but  have  at  length  abandoned  it  and  given  it  over? 
That  is  a  far  fouler  case.  Turpius  ejicitur,  qudm  non  ad- 
millitur :  It  is  a  more  ignominious  thing  to  throxo  your  re- 
ligion and  your  God  out  of  your  families,  than  never  to  have 
admitted  them..  I  would  labour  to  fortify  all,  as  much  as 
is  possible  against  that  temptation. 

And  it  is  possible  further  to  be  useful  to  divers,  who  yet 
have  not  families,  but  who  may  have;  so  as  to  be  a  guide 
and  incentive  to  their  purpose  and  practice  for  the  future, 
-^hen  there  shall  be  such  occasions. 

And  even  to  us  all,  who  are  ever  so  resolute  in  the  pre- 
sent use  and  for  the  continuance  of  this  holv course,  it  mav 
be  useful  for  our  quickenmg  to  manage  this  holy  work 
with  more  seriousness,  with  more  vigour,  with  more  spi- 
rituality, and  to  better  purpose,  than  we  have  been  any  of 
us  wont  to  do. 

And  as  to  the  subject  itself,  you  see  the  words  of  this 
text  are  very  plain  words:  I  and  my  house  will  serve  the 
Lord.  The  word,  house,  indeed  doth  sometimes  signify 
more  largely ;  but  it  cannot  be  understood  to  signify  any 
thing  else  here  but  a  household :  and  so  we  are  saved  from 
any  thing  of  a  disputation  about  that  matter.  For  Joshua 
speaks  only  of  them,  for  whom  he  would  answer,  at  least 
as  to  their  visible  practice,  and  whom  he  had  a  power  over. 
"  I  and  my  house  will  serve  the  Lord."  And  he  contra- 
distinguisheth  the  case  of  his  own  family  from  the  sup- 
posed different  common  case.  For  he  supposeth  all  the 
rest  to  be  gone  off  to  paganism  or  the  service  of  other  gods ; 
notwithstanding  which  the  practice  of  his  house  and  family 
should  be  the  same  that  it  was. 

And  for  the  term,  serve,  it  is  true  the  Hebrew  word  here 
used  is  rendered  promiscuously  by  the  Septuagint  in  several 
places,  so  as  sometimes  to  signify  Xarpcdi,  that  is,  that  ser- 
vice which  is  peculiar  and  appropriate  to  God  under  the 
notion  of  worship  to  him  ;  and  sometimes  to  signify  inXcm, 
service  in  a  much  larger  sense.  Therefore  I  lay  no  stress 
upon  the  word,  abstractly  considered,  but  only  considered 
according  to  the  present  circumstances.  Abstractly  con- 
sidered, it  is  very  true  it  doth  sometimes  signify  not  only 
service  to  God,  but  to  man.  And  again  being  referred  to 
God,  it  sometimes  signifies  any  other  service,  or  obedience, 
or  duty,  besides  worship;  as  we  are  to  obey  and  comport 
with  his  pleasure  in  other  things  besides  worshipping  of 
him:  and  then  this  word  serves  to  express  that  service. 
But  in  this  place  it  can  signify  nothing  but  worship. 
That  is  most  plain.  It  signifieth  that  sort  of  service, 
which  must  either  be  paid  to  the  true  God,  or  will  be  paid 
to  false  ones.  "  You  may  serve  other  gods;  but  I  and  my 
house  will  serve  the  Lord."     So  that  if  is  worship  or  reli- 


gion that  is  meant  here,  and  nothing  else.  And  therefore 
about  that,  there  is  no  place  or  room  left  for  disputation. 
And  now  so  much  being  plain,  you  find  a  twofold  resolu- 
tion expressed  in  the  text. 

1.  Concerning  personal  religion :  the  religion  of  a  single 
person,  solitary  worship:  that  worship,  that  may  be  con- 
fined to  a  man's  soul  and  to  his  closet.  "  I  will  serve  the 
Lord :  I  will  be  a  worshipper  of  him,  as  long  as  I  live,  let 
the  rest  of  the  world  do  wliat  they  will."  And  then  here  if 
a  resolution  expressed  too. 

2.  Concerning  family  religion  ;  and  that  as  the  care  oJ 
the  family  master,  the  governor  of  the  family.  He  did  noi 
think  he  should  answer  the  obligation  that  lay  upon  him 
as  such,  or  do  the  part  incumbent  on  him  as  so  related,  il 
he  should  shut  up  himself  and  his  religion  in  a  closet. 
No,  but  "  I  and  my  house  will  serve  the  Lord;"  implying 
his  resolution,  both  to  do  what  was  incumbent  upon  him- 
self in  worshipping  God  even  among  them,  and  to  use  the 
power  he  had  to  oblige  them  to  a  compliance  and  concur- 
rence therein.  Otherwise  he  must  be  thought  to  have 
spoken  absurdly,  when  he  says,  "  As  for  my  house,  we 
will  serve  the  Lord ;"  if  he  must  not  be  understood  to  have 
the  authority  in  his  own  family  to  oblige  them  to  attend 
thereupon. 

It  is  the  latter  of  these,  which  it  suits  our  purpose  to 
speak  unto;  though  we  shall  in  the  close,  God  willing, 
look  back  upon  the  other  two,  as  there  will  be  occasion. 
The  text  will  give  it,  and  the  series  of  the  discourse  will 
lead  to  it.  So  that,  that  which  is  left  as  the  designed  sub- 
ject of  my  present  discourse,  is  family  religion  ;  the  reli- 
gion that  belongs  to  a  family  as  such,  and  which  it  belongs 
to  a  family  as  such  to  set  on  foot  and  to  keep  on  foot  in  the 
family. 

And  here  I  cannot  but  be  apprehensive,  that  wherever 
there  is  among  professed  Christians  a  disinclination  and 
aversion  from  such  a  course  and  practice  as  this,  there  wilV 
be  (that  they  may  give  themselves  a  relief,  that  they  may 
have  some  pretence  and  shelter  against  the  urgency  of 
what  may  be  said  in  such  a  case)  an  aptness  clamorously 
to  insist  and  cry  out;  "But  where  is  your  proof?  what 
proof  have  you,  that  there  ought  to  be  such  a  thing  as  fa- 
mily religion  ?  where  is  it  required,  that  we  must  so,  and 
so  often,  or  in  such  and  such  a  continued  course,  attend 
upon  God  in  the  performance  of  family  duties,  and  the  ex- 
ercises of  domestical  religion"?"  I  doubt  not,  but  by  the 
blessing  of  God  you  will  find,  that  there  is  proof  clear  and 
strong  enough  ;  as  it  was  to  be  expected  there  should  be 
in  so  important  a  case,  and  upon  which  so  much  depends. 
But  before  I  come  to  give  you  any,  I  shall  lay  down  seme 
few  things  by  way  of  preparation  and  promise.     As, 

1.  That  whereas  this  is  matter  of  doubt,  and  is  to  be 
matter  of  dispute;  that  which  is  doubted  of,  is  to  be  gene- 
rally supposed  not  the  substance  of  the  thing  spoken  of, 
hut  only  this  or  that  circumstance.  I  hope  that  generally 
the  matter  that  any  would  have  brought  into  dispute,  or  for 
which  they  would  desire  proof,  is  not,  whether  there  shouM 
be  any  such  thing  as  religion  in  the  world,  or  no.  That 
cannot  be  the  question  with  any,  that  call  themselves  Chris- 
tians, with  any  reason  or  modesty,  at  least  till  they  have 
renounced  that  name ;  nor  can  any  make  that  a  question, 
consistently  with  themselves  and  with  the  dictates  of  hu- 
man nature,  unless  they  will  renounce  the  name  of  man 
too.  But  the  question  must  be,  whether  there  ought  to  be 
religion  in  a  family  as  such ;  and  to  be  performed  so,  and 
so  often,  or  in  so  orderly,  continued,  and  stated  a  course. 
Hereupon  I  would  add, 

2.  That  where  the  substance  of  any  duty  is  agreed  to  be 
plainly  required,  it  would  be  the  most  unreasonable  thing 
in  all  "the  world  to  throw  it  off,  upon  a  pretence  that  such 
and  such  circumstances  are  not  enjoined.  Nothing  can  be 
more  unreasonably  absurd  than  that.  For  so  you  would 
come  to  throw  out  of  the  world  the  most  undoubted  parts 
of  all  religion  whatsoever,  the  most  essential,  most  noble, 
and  substantial  parts.  There  could  be  nothing  of  solitary 
and  personal  religion  upon  suchoerms.  For  instance;  at 
this  rate  a  man  should  be  excused  from  ever  remembering 
God  as  long  as  he  lived,  from  ever  having  any  thought  of 
him,  because  Scripture  doth  not  expressly  tell  us  how 
often  in  a  day  we  shoukl  think  of  him.  And  the  same 
may  be  said  of  all  other  vital  acts  of  religion.    At  this  rate 


SSUM.    1. 


FAMILY  RELIGION  AND  WORSHIP. 


611 


nobody  should  be  obliged  to  love  God,  because  we  are  not 
told  how  of'len  in  a  day  we  must  put  forth  an  act  of  love 
to  him  ;  and  nobody  should  be  obliged  to  fear  God,  to  ex- 
ert any  reverential  act  towards  him,  because  we  are  not 
told  at  what  hour  of  the  day  it  must  be.  And  so  for  so- 
cial worship,  there  could  be  no  such  thing  upon  these 
terms;  if  any  man  should  say,  I  am  not  obliged  to  worship 
God  in  Christian  societies  any  where,  because  he  hath  not 
expressly  told  us,  you  shall  come  together  at  nine,  or  ten, 
or  eleven  o'clock  for  such  purposes.  And  so  under  that 
pretence  here  would  be  an  end  of  all  religion,  because 
every  circumstance,  and  particularly  this  of  time  and  fre- 
quency, is  not  stated  expressly  and  determined  in  Scrip- 
ture.    I  add, 

3.  That  wheresoever  the  substance  of  any  duty  is  ex- 
pressly enjoined,  and  the  circumstances  are  not  deter- 
mined; if  it  be  plain  and  evident,  that  the  thing  is  neces- 
sary, (and  I  will  now  suppose,  that  so  family  religion  is, 
as  well  as  religion  in  general,  as  that  which  I  hope  you 
will  see  proved,)  then  it  is  left  to  us  to  choose  the  circum- 
stances; but  not  to  choose  them  arbitrarily,  or  unfitly,  or 
inconsistently  with  the  end  and  design  of  the  duty.  This 
is  one  of  the  good  man's  characters,  that  he  orders  his  af- 
fairs with  discretion,  (Psalm  cxii.  5.)  with  judgment,  as 
the  word  admits  to  be  read :  he  judiciously  considers  the 
several  obligations  that  lie  upon  him,  so  as  seasonably  to 
answer  them  all.  If  the  thing  itself  be  manifestly  enjoined, 
it  is  required  of  us,  that  we  find  out  the  way  of  circum- 
stantiating it,  so  as  may  most  comport  with  the  mind  and 
pleasure  of  the  legislator  in  laying  us  under  such  an  obli- 
gation :  and  at  our  peril  be  it,  if  we  do  not  find  the  cir- 
cumstances, when  the  thing  is  required  to  be  done. 

As  for  instance,  to  suit  this  with  a  parallel  case  ;  you 
know  it  is  an  obligation  upon  family  masters  to  take  care 
as  to  externals  for  them  that  are  oif  the  household.  He 
that  doth  not  provide  for  them  of  his  own  house,  hath  de- 
nied the  faith,  and  is  worse  than  an  infidel,  1  Tim.  v.  8. 
This  charge  lies  upon  him,  that  according  to  his  ability  he 
is  to  provide  for  his  domestics :  it  is  enforced  upon  him 
by  a  general  law  and  precept:  "  Thou  shalt  do  no  mur- 
der." He  would  be  a  murderer  before  God,  and  before  all 
rational  and  considering  men,  that  should  famish  his  fam- 
ily, when  he  could  provide  for  them,  and  when  his  pre- 
tence is  nothing  else  but  this,  "  God  hath  not  told  me  in 
his  word  how  many  meals  they  shall  have  in  a  day,  or  at 
what  hmir  of  the  day  I  am  to  dine  or  sup  them  ;  he  hath 
not  said,  it  shall  be  at  eleven,  or  twelve,  or  one  o'clock,  or  at 
seven  or  eight,  that  I  shall  so  and  so  provide  for  them." 
This  man  will  be  nothing  less  than  a  murderer,  than  if  the 
particular  hour  were  told  him  in  the  Bible,  when  he  must 
take  care  that  they  shall  have  that  which  is  convenient 
and  competent  for  their  meat  and  drink.  And  I  hope,  in 
process  of  time  we  shall  come  to  evince,  that  they  are  not 
less  liable  to  be  found  guilty  as  murderers  before  God,  that 
do  famish  the  souls  of  them  that  are  committed  to  their 
charge  ;  but  that  that  guilt  is  unspeakablj'  more  foul  and 
horrid  and  hateful.     And  therefore  I  observe, 

4.  That  when  any  thing  by  general  rules  is  enjoined  in 
Scripture,  then  we  are  to  use  our  understandings  in  de- 
ducing and  bringing  down  that  general  rule  to  particular 
cases.  For  the  Scriptures  were  writ  not  for  brutes,  but  for 
men;  for  an  intelligent  sort  of  creatures,  that  have  under- 
standings about  them,  and  are  capable  of  using  them,  so 
as  to  deduce  and  collect  particulars  out  of  generals,  and 
so  as  to  infer  from  such  and  such  plain  grounds  suitable 
conclusions  and  inferences  :  and  what  is  by  manifest  and 
just  deductions  to  be  drawn  from  a  Scripture  ground,  will 
equally  oblige,  as  if  it  were,  cerfis  verb-is,  expressed  in  the 
Scripture  itself  God  doth  speak  to  us  as  men,  and  it  doth 
not  beseem  the  majesty  of  God  to  trifle  with  his  creatures. 
Indeed  it  would  be  thought  unfit  for  the  majesty  of  a 
prince,  a  secular  prince,  to  descend  to  every  little  punctilio, 
when  his  mind  in  his  public  edicts  is  plainly  enough  ex- 
pressed. It  may  better  be  expected,  that  there  should  be 
a  grandeur  observed  by  the  supreme  and  universal  Lord 
of^all ;  and  we  should  not  expect  him  to  descend  to  every 
minute  thing,  to  gratify  the  litigious  cavilling  humour  of 
every  one  that  hath  a  mind  to  find  all  the  flaws  he  can  in 
God's  commands,  rather  than  obey  them;  even  all  the 
flaws  and  defects  that  he  can  any  way  suppose. 


The  great  cry  in  this  case  is,  "  Is  not  the  Scripture  a 
perfect  rule  both  of  faith  and  manners'?  And  therefore 
what  is  not  to  be  found  there,  as  to  faith,  we  are  not  bound 
to  believe;  as  to  manners  or  practice,  we  are  not  bound  to 
do."  This  is  the  allegation  when  any  have  a  mind  rather 
to  throw  off  such  a  piece  of  duty  towards  him  that  gave 
them  breath,  than  to  comport  with  his  mind  and  pleasure 
in  it.     I  therefore  add, 

5.  That  divers  things,  not  so  expressly  contained  in 
Scripture,  will  be  found  equally  to  oblige, 'if  ihey  be  mat- 
ters of  practice.  They  will  equally  oblijje  to  such  prac- 
tice, though  not  in  so  many  words  expressed  in  Scripture, 
if  by  any  other  light,  than  what  is  contained  in  Scripture 
as  such,  it  shall  be  made  to  appear,  that  they  are  just  and 
necessary. 

You  will  say.  What  other  light  ?  I  say,  the  light  and  law 
of  nature.  For  we  are  to  know,  that  the  Scriptures  were 
not  written  to  repeal  the  law  of  nature.  That  is  an  unre- 
pealable  law,  never  possibly  to  be  repealed,  while  God  is 
God,  and  man  is  man.  For  therefore  is  it  called  the  law 
of  nature,  because  it  results  from  the  correspondency  be- 
tween the  nature  of  man  and  the  nature  of  Goil ;  and  so  is 
as  impossible  to  be  repealed,  as  it  is  impos>ible  at  once, 
that  God  should  be  ungodded,  and  that  you  should  be  nul- 
lified and  reduced  to  nothing.  It  is  true  indeed,  if  the 
former  were,  the  latter  would  be.  But  the  former  being 
altogether  impossible,  as  long  as  a  reasonable  creature 
continueth  such,  the  obligation  of  the  law  of  nature  will 
unalterably  lie  upon  it. 

You  are  therefore  to  consider  ;  Was  there  no  sin  or  duty 
in  the  world,  before  tlie  Scriptures  were  written,  for  two 
thousand  years  together  1  when  we  are  told,  that  before 
the  law  sin  was  in  the  world ;  but  sin  is  not  imputed,  wheL 
there  is  no  law,  Rom.  v.  13.  And  therefore  there  was  this 
law  of  nature,  in  respect  whereof  men  are  a  law  unit. 
themselves,  Rom.  ii.  14.  That  is,  if  they  will  look  impar- 
tially and  faithfully  into  their  own  souls,  and  not  wilfulh' 
overlook  their  natural  dictates  and  sentiments ;  if  they 
will  commune  with  themselves.  And  the  very  writing  of 
the  Scriptures  doth  suppose  this,  and  all  preaching  accoid- 
ing  to  the  Scriptures  supposeth  it.  Otherwise  what  means 
the  apostle's  saying  in  that  text,  2  Cor.  iv.  2.  Recommend- 
ing ourselves  to  every  man's  conscience  in  the  sight  of 
God  1  That,  which  upon  an  impartial  appeal  to  the  con- 
science of  a  man  in  the  sight  of  God  he  shall  be  obliged 
to  judge  is  just  and  equal,  binds  his  practice,  and  hath  its 
ground  in  Scripture  too,  though  every  circumstance  lela- 
ting  hereunto  be  not  found  there. 

Scriptural  revelation  doth  graft  upon  nature,  that  is,  it 
supposeth  us  men.  Otherwise  to  what  purpose  were  it  to 
put  such  a  book  into  our  hands  ;  if  we  were  not  with  dc- 
pendance,  with  subordination,  to  apply  our  own  under- 
standings to  consider  what  is  contained  there:  i-iill  expect- 
ing and  looking  up  to  the  Father  of  lights,  from  whom  this 
collection  of  truths  doth  come  tons,  that  he  would  irradi- 
ate or  direct  our  minds,  and  enable  us  to  discern  his  mind, 
as  it  is  signified  to  us  the  one  or  the  other  way  ?  All  ap- 
peals unto  the  judgments  and  consciences  of  men  wore  in 
vain  and  to  no  purpose,  if  what  I  now  say  were  not  to  be 
admitted.  I  speak  to  wise  men,  says  the  apostle,  judsreye 
what  I  say,  1  Cor.  x.  15.  God's  own  cxposiulaiions  with 
men  suppose  it.  "Are  not  my  ways  equal]  are  not  your 
ways  unequal  V  Ezek.  xviii.  29.  All  this  doth  suppose, 
that  there  is  an  understanding  and  a  conscience,  that  is 
capable  of  judging.  And  whatsoever  shall  appear  just 
and  requisite,  and  necessary  unto  that  principle,  must  be 
understood  to  oblige  by  the  authority  of  the  Supreme  Le- 
gislator, whose  law  this  is.  For  he,  that  has  made  us  and 
made  our  natures,  has  made  this  law  that  is  written  there. 

Therefore  this  law  is  an  inviolable  law,  and  most  deeply 
fundamental  to  all  that  we  have  contained  in  the  Bible  ; 
which  is  hut  a  superadded  light.  Inasmuch  as  it  is  nnisi 
true,  that  this  law  of  nature  doih  m>t  declare,  what  is  to 
he  done  bv  apostate  and  lost  creatures  in  order  to  their  re- 
covery;  therefore  a  supervening  light  is  needful.  The  law 
of  nature  was  impressetl  upon  the  mind  of  innocent  man, 
and  respected  his  innocent  state.  But  then,  those  that 
were  oblii^ations  of  duiv  laid  upon  him  in  that  state,  are 
incessant  obligations.  What!  will  God  say,  '-Because 
mv  creature  has  made  a  defection  from  me,  shall  he  by 


612 


THE  OBLIGATIONS  TO 


Serm.  II. 


his  own  fault  excuse  himself  from  duty,  and  nullify  the 
obligation  of  my  law  1"  If  that  did  oblige  men  to  worship 
God,  and  oblige  societies  to  worship  him,  lesser  societies, 
supposing  there  had  been  such,  while  the  state  of  inno- 
cency  lasted ;  do  we  think,  that  that  obligation  is  taken  off 
by  sin,  by  men's  having  offended  and  made  a  defection 
from  God  ^  As  if  men  could  nullity  God's  laws  by  dis- 
obeying them.  And  therefore,  I  say  what  doth  by  the 
law  of  nature  appear  to  be  necessary,  will  equally  oblige 
our  practice,  as  if  it  were  in  so  many  express  words  in 
Scripture.  And  in  the  last  place,  I  propose  this  to  be 
considered  too, 

6.  That  it  is  a  master-piece  of  the  devil's  artifice,  to  op- 
pose the  means  of  our  direction  in  matters  of  practice  to 
one  another,  and  to  their  common  end.  And  they  are  most 
stupid  creatures,  who  will  sutfer  themselves  to  be  befooled 
oy  him  in  this  matter.  A  great  artifice  of  the  devil!  first 
to  go  about  to  oppose  the  light  of  nature,  that  is  simply  and 
truly  such,  (and  there  are  characters,  by  which  that  may 
be  discerned,  though  that  is  not  the  business  of  this  hour,) 
unto  Scripture  light;  and  then  to  oppose  one  piece  of 
Scripture  to  another  ;  and  then  to  make  it  be  thought,  that 
all  together  is  insufficient  to  the  true  end;  or  else  to  set 
the  means  against  tlie  end.  This  is  a  great  design  that  he 
hath  been  driving,  ever  since  there  was  a  church  in  the 
world ;  and  to  engage  men  in  broils  and  disputes  upon 
such  seeming  oppositions  :  but  all  to  divert  the  practice  of 
what  was  really  most  necessary  unto  men's  serving  of 
God  in  this  world,  and  their  being  happy  with  him  in  the 
other;  and  then  to  represent  the  means  as  insufficient  to 
the  end,  and  by  consequence  as  opposite  ;  as  if  all  together 
would  not  serve,  because  one  alone  will  not.  As  indeed 
this  is  plain,  that  the  light  of  nature  alone  will  not  serve 
to  enable  a  man  to  glorify  God  as  God,  and  to  conduct  a 
man  to  a  final  felicity  in  him.  Therefore,  says  the  devil, 
"  It  is  of  no  use  at  all ;"  and  so  men  are  to  be  given  up  to 
enthusiasm.  Thus  he  imposeth  upon  one  sort  of  men. 
Again,  if  such  and  such  things  be  found  not  to  be  con- 
tained expressly  in  the  Scripture  revelation,  then  Scrip- 
ture revelation  alone  is  represented  as  in.sufficient;  and 
thereupon  there  must  be  I  know  not  how  many  traditions 
and  inventions  of  men  pitched  upon,  to  supply  or  makeup 
the  defects  of  Scripture  ;  or  otherwise,  upon  pretence  of 
this  insufficiency,  the  end,  that  should  be  served  by  it,  is 
represented  as  impossible  to  be  served;  and  the  Scriptitre 
shall  be  pretended  to  throw  religion  out  of  the  world  be- 
cause it  is  no  sufficient  means  to  serve  it:  and  at  last  men 
shall  be  left  to  live  irreligiously,  according  to  the  disincli- 
nation and  bent  of  a  disaifected  heart. 

God  hath  not  left  us  altogether  "  ignorant  of  Satan's  de- 
vices;" and  "  in  vain  is  the  net  spread  in  the  sight  of  any 
bird."  When  he  would  so  grossly  impose  upon  us  in  so 
plain  cases,  we  are  very  foolish  creatures,  sillier  than  the 
silliest  bird,  if  we  will  suffer  ourselves  to  be  beguiled  and 
imposed  upon ;  especially  as  to  such  parts  and  pieces  of 
our  religion,  as  upon  which  all  our  present  comfort  and 
welfare,  and  our  future  and  eternal  hopes,  do  so  immedi- 
ately depend.     It  would  be  great  folly  in  so  plain  a  case. 

Do  but  consider  a  little,  wherein  this  doth  appear  most 
plain,  so  that  every  one  may  understand  it  if  he  will. 
Take  the  most  unquestionable  and  indisputable  things, 
that  lie  within  the  compass  of  natural  revelation,  and  that 
cannot  be  understood  to  serve  any  ill  purpose,  or  to  gratify 
any  corrupt  inclination  in  the  heart  of  a  man,  but  directly 
the  contrary;  take  these  natural  sentiments,  and  take  the 
whole  compass  of  Scripture  together  with  them  ;  and  here 
is  that,  which  in  point  of  rule  both  for  faith  and  practice 
is  every  way  sufficient  to  serve  its  end.  When  we  sa}', 
the  Scripture  is  a  complete  rule,  we  do  not  mean  as  severed 
and  cut  off  from  the  law  of  nature,  or  in  opposition  to  that, 
or  as  excluding  that ;  but  as  including  it ;  and  as  exclu- 
ding only  the  unnecessary  and  arbitrary  inventions  of 
men,  and  the  additions  that  they  think  fit  to  subnect  to  it. 
Take  the  Scripture,  in  conjunction  with  the  frame  of  most 
unquestionably  natural  dictates  and  sentiments;  and  here 
we  have  an  entire  discovery  of  all  that  is  requisite  to  our 
acceptable  walking  v/ith  God.  And  indeed  all  those  more 
essential  necessary  dictates  of  the  law  of  nature  are  con- 
ained  in  the  Scripture.  But  there  are  many  things,  that 
*  Prcaclied  December  17tli,  1693. 


are  .still  to  be  borrowed  from  thence,  which  may  respect 
the  matter  of  undetermined  circumstances;  and  circum- 
stances of  that  kind,  that  they  are  necessary  to  actions  to 
be  done.  Not  merely  unnecessary  circumstances.  For  il 
any  would  take  their  advantage  and  occasion  from  thence, 
to  devise  what  circumstances  they  please  ;  that  is  a  ground- 
less and  injurious  pretence.  There  can  be  no  action  done 
but  with  circumstances  ;  and  the  determination  of  some 
circumstances  is  necessary:  as,  it  is  impossible  for  an  as- 
sembly ever  to  meet  together,  if  they  do  not  agree  upon  a 
time  :  there  can  be  no  such  thing  as  social  worship,  if  the 
persons  that  are  to  associate  do  not  agree.  Such  a  circum- 
stance as  this  is  necessary,  because  there  cannot  be  wor- 
ship without  it.  But  forunnecessary  circumstances,  which 
signify  nothing  to  the  work,  and  without  which  it  may  be, 
and  may  be  as  well  and  perhaps  better;  these  cannot  be 
fetched  from  the  law  of  nature.  But  from  the  law  of  na- 
ture I  can  fetch  this  circumstance  ;  if  I  be  obliged  to  wor- 
ship God,  then  I  must  find  some  time  for  it.  And  if  per- 
sons be  obliged  to  worship  God  together,  then  they  must 
find  some  time  to  come  together.  And  therefore  all  that 
is  substantial  in  religion,  though  a  great  deal  of  it  be  in  the 
law  of  nature,  you  have  it  over  again  in  Scripture.  And 
for  whatsoever  of  circumstance  is  necessary  unto  such  ex- 
ercises of  religion,  if  you  have  not  all  those  circumstances 
in  the  Scripture,  yet  the  law  of  nature  compared  with 
Scripture  will  oblige  you  to  find  out  fit  circumstances ; 
such  as  by  which  it  shall  be  possible  for  the  enjoined  duty 
to  be  done,  and  such  as  without  which  it  cannot  be  done. 

And  so  in  this  sense  the  Scripture  is  a  perfect  rule,  in 
opposition  to  unnecessary  inventions;  but  not  in  opposi- 
tion to  the  necessary  parts  of  the  law  of  nature,  or  what- 
soever that  is  necessarily  to  be  directive  to  us  in.  As,  if 
Scripture  say,  "  Worship  God  :"  the  laAV  of  nature  saith 
the  same  thing ;  but  it  over  and  above  obligeth  me  to  cir- 
cumstance it  duly,  and  so  as  that  the  thing  designed  may 
be  possible  to  be  done.  And  if  both  together  do  lay  me 
under  an  obligation  to  this  or  that  part  or  kind  of  religion 
and  duty,  my  obligation  will  be  indisputable  and  indispen- 
sable hereupon. 

These  preparations  b  ing  laid,  we  shall  (God  willing) 
go  on  hereafter  to  evince  to  you  the  obligation  that  is  upon 
us  to  family  worship ;  on  the  governors  of  families  to  take 
care,  that  it  be  set  up;  and  to  oblige  those  under  their 
charge  to  concur  ;  and  their  obligation  spontaneously  and 
willingly  to  concur. 


SERMON  II.* 

Because  I  lay  a  great  stress  in  the  argument  before  ns 
upon  the  law  of  nature,  as  you  may  see  by  what  hath  been 
already  offered  ;  it  may  be  requisite,  before  I  proceed  upon 
the  forelaid  grounds  to  the  proofs,  that  I  should  obviate 
some  things  which  may  arise  in  the  minds  of  some  or  other 
concerning  this  law. 

Objection.  It  may  be  said  :  "  To  lay  a  weight  in  this 
matter  upon  the  law  of  nature,  is  to  lay  it  upon  the  most 
uncertain  thing  in  all  the  world.  Who  can  tell  what  the 
law  of  nature  isl  How  obscure  and  dark,  how  dubious 
and  mutable,  a  thing  doth  it  seem  to  be;  depending  with 
one  man  upon  this  or  that  apprehension  or  fancy  or  incli- 
nation, and  with  other  upon  another  1"  To  this  I  would 
say  as  follows, 

1.  The  law  of  nature,  as  it  lies  in  the  minds  of  men,  is 
a  mightil}^  shattered  thing.     But, 

2.  It  is  not  equally  obscure  in  all  things. 

3.  In  reference  to  what  I  design  to  appeal  to  it  in,  it  is 
most  clear  and  indisputable  ;  and  I  shall  lay  a  weight  and 
stress  upon  it  no  where  else,  but  where  it  is  so. 

4.  As  to  what  relates  to  this  matter,  religion  and  the 
worship  of  God  in*  general,  and  which  we  shall  afterwards 
have  occasion  to  deduce  and  draw  down  to  family  worship; 
it  is  so  very  plain,  that  is,  the  general  is  so  plain,  that  I 
may  be  as  sure  what  the  law  of  nature  is  in  the  case,  as  I 
ma)'  be  that  contradictions  cannot  be  true.     For  the  wor- 


Serm.  II. 


FAMILY  RELIGION  AND  WORSHIP. 


613 


ship  of  Grod  or  religion  doth  carry  that  in  it,  the  assertion 
or  affirmation  whereof  must  as  necessarily  exclude  the 
contrary,  as  one  proposition  must  exclude  another  contra- 
dictory to  it. 

For  instance.  When  I  worship  God,  my  worshipping 
of  him  doth  imply  these  affirmations  in  it;  that  he  is 
supreme,  that  he  is  the  best  of  beings,  that  all  things  do 
depend  upon  him,  that  I  have  my  own  absolute  depend- 
ance  upon  him,  that  in  his  favour  stands  my  life,  that  his 
displeasure  and  anger  towards  me  not  reconciled  must  be 
a  mortal  and  destructive  thing  to  me.  My  declining  or  re- 
fusing to  worship  him  implieih  all  the  contrary  negations. 
If  the  former  affirmations  be  true,  (and  the  conscience  of 
every  man  may  be  appealed  unto,  whether  they  be  not 
true,)  the  contrary  negations  can  no  more  be  true,  that  is, 
the  contradictory,  than  it  is  possible  for  the  same  thing  to 
be  true  and  false. 

So  little  do  we  need  to  be  at  an  uncertainty  or  in  a  sus- 

fense,  what  the  law  of  nature,  as  we  shall  refer  to  it,  is. 
t  is  nothing  else,  but  that  essential  reference  between  God 
and  his  creatures,  which,  upon  the  supposed  existence  of 
both,  is  necessarily  and  unavoidably,  whether  I  think  uf  it, 
yea  or  no.  It  is  not  an  uncertain  or  mutable  thing;  it 
doth  not  depend  upon  my  thinking  or  not  thinking  of  it. 
Whether  I  think  or  think  not,  whether  I  sleep  or  wake ; 
if  God  is  and  I  am,  such  obligations  must  lie  upon  me 
necessarily  and  uiKilterably  in  this  state  of  the  case.  That 
is,  there  are  these  things  to  be  considered  in  God  ;  and  such 
really  is  the  state  of  things  between  him  and  me,  that  I 
cannot  but  be  under  such  obligations.  And  therefore  it  Ls 
vain  to  suppose  that  the  law  of  nature  in  these  respects  is 
an  arbitrary  and  changeable  thing.  It  is  no  more  change- 
able, than  the  essential  references  must  be  between  God 
and  me,  while  he  exists,  and  I  exist ;  so  that  I  cannot  make 
these  obligations  to  be  by  my  thinking  of  them,  nor  can  I 
unthink  them  into  nothing. 

And  when  we  therefore  read  of  the  law  of  nature  as  a 
law  written  in  us,  as  the  apostle's  expression  is ;  that  must 
suppose  it  to  have  been  before  it  is  written,  that  is,  in  order 
of  nature  before.  For  what  is  it  that  is  written  1  Some- 
thing that  was  before,  at  least  in  the  order  of  nature. 
Those  mutual  references  must  be  between  God  and  us, 
which  are  only  founded  upon  our  own  natures.  They  had 
a  pre-existence ;  that  is,  whether  there  be  any  such  impres- 
sion upon  me  or  no;  if  it  remain,  or  if  it  be  blotted  out, 
that  doth  not  nullify  the  obligations  between  me  and  my 
Maker.  And  if  those  obligations  do  unalterably  and  in- 
dispensably lie  upon  me  in  reference  to  myself,  it  will  be 
a  very  easy  deduction,  when  we  come  to  that,  to  show  that 
they  must  lie  upon  me  also,  in  reference  to  those  that  I  am 
concerned  for.  And  hereupon,  though  after  the  apostle  we 
call  this  a  "  law  written  in  our  hearts,"  we  must  consider 
it  as  antecedent  to  that  impression.  Cicero,  a  heathen, 
calls  it  non  scripta  sed  nata  lex,  a  law  born  with  vs ;  which 
results  from  the  very  existence  of  such  a  creature,  of  such 
a  nature,  related  to  the  Supreme  Being  as  his  oflspring,  or 
one  that  hath  immediately  been  raised  up  out  of  nothing 
by  him. 

But  new  upon  all  this,  such  preparatories  being  forelaid, 
we  shall  proceed  to  the  proof  of  what  hath  been  asserted ; 
that  is, — That  it  is  incumbent  upon  the  governors  of  fami- 
lies to  take  care  that  there  be  such  a  thing  as  family  reli- 
gion preserved  and  kept  up  in  their  families  as  such. — We 
must  here  note  to  you,  that  by  the  exercises  of  religion  in 
families,  we  do  not  mean,  that  all  the  exercises  of  religion 
must  be  there;  that  every  instituted  Christian  ordinance 
can  have  place  in  a  family.  We  do  not  intend  that,  un- 
less in  such  fatnilies  as  may  be  also  churches  ;  as  we  read 
of  some  such  in  Scripture.  But  we  mean  such  exercises 
of  religion,  as  a  family  is  the  capable  seat  and  subject  of; 
as  it  is  of  those  parts  of  merely  natural  worship,  which  are 
wont  to  be  referred  to  that  head  ;  as  prayer,  comprehend- 
ing confession  of  sin,  and  thanksgiving  for  mercies ;  and 
instruction,  the  endeavour  of  knowing  and  of  being  ac- 
quainted with  the  mind  and  will  of  God,  touching  what  we 
are  to  believe  concerning  him,  and  touching  what  we  are 
to  do  in  a  way  of  duty  towards  him.  These  are  things 
which  lie  within  the  compass  of  natural  worship. 

It  is  true,  that  there  are  instituted  ordinances  of  worship 
besides,  (as  even  these  mentioned  are  instituted,  as  w^ell  as 
43 


natural,)  that  do  belong  to  a  certain  s-pecified  seat  and  sub- 
ject; to  wit,  such  and  such  societies,  which  the  verj'  insti- 
tution itself  doth  characterize  and  notify  a.s  the  apt  and 
convenient  seat  and  subject  of  such  worship.  Those  I  do 
not  speak  of.  But  that  such  parts  of  worship,  that  have 
been  .spoken  of,  which  are  natural  as  well  as  instituted,  riz. 
praying  to  God,  and  instruction  in  the  matters  thai  con- 
cern us  towards  him,  do  belong  to  families  as  such,  I  shall 
labour  to  evince  and  make  out  to  you.  And  I  shall  en- 
deavour to  do  this,  partly  upon  rati'mal,  and  partly  unun 
scriptural  grounds.  And  I  snail  do  it  in  reference  to  these 
two  things: 

I.  To  the  substance  of  family  religion ;  that  there  ought 
to  be  such  a  thing  as  family  religion,  containing  those  two 
substantial  parts  that  I  have  mentioned.     And, 

II.  To  the  frequency  thereof;  when  and  how  often  such 
and  such  acts  and  exercises  of  religion  ought  to  be  per- 
formed. 

I.  That  there  ought  to  be  such  a  thing  as  family  religion, 
made  up  of  the  mentioned  parts, /awii/y  prayer,  amd  familif 
instruction. 

First,  I  shall  labour  to  make  out  this  to  you  upon  rational 
grounds.  And  to  that  purpose  I  shall  give  you  one  gene- 
ral argument, — from  the  notion  of  religion  generally  con- 
sidered ; — which,  as  such,  must  be  understood  to  cany 
with  it  a  double  respect, — 1st,  to  its  object — the  great  God ; 
and  '2dly,  to  its  subject — a  reasonable  or  intelligent  crea- 
ture, or  a  collection  of  such,  by  whom  it  Ls  to  be  perform- 
ed. Under  the  former  notion,  or  in  the  former  reference, 
it  is  to  be  looked  upon  as  a  duty  to  him,  to  whom  I  per- 
form it,  or  such  and  such  exercises  of  it.  Under  the  la'ter 
notion,  it  is  to  be  looked  upon  as  a  thing  necessary  for 
ourselves,  for  our  own  welfare  and  advEUitage,  present  and 
eternal. 

The  former  notion  doth  not  extinguish  or  exclude  the 
other.  But  it  showelh,  how  admirably  God  hath  con- 
nected things, even  in  their  natures;  and  with  how  tender 
regard  to  his  creatures,  that  shall  continue  in,  or  that  shall 
be  reduced  to  an  obediential  or  governable  state  and  pos- 
ture towards  him:  that  they  cannot  do  what  is  for  his  ho- 
nour and  glory,  but  they  must  be  promoting  their  own  true 
interest  at  the  same  time  and  by  the  same  thing;  that  as 
religion  is  a  homage  to  the  Eternal  Being,  a  debt  that  the 
reasonable  nature  ought  to  pay  him ;  so  it  is  as  to  ourselves 
a  means  to  refine  our  spirits,  to  purge  them  from  terrene 
dross;  in  the  acts  and  exercises  of  which,  we  converse 
with  the  best  of  beings,  the  most  pure,  the  most  gloriou.s, 
the  most  vital ;  and  so  derive  an  enlivening  and  purifying 
influence  into  our  own  souls.  These  notions  are  not  in- 
consistent, or  exclusive  of  one  another.  But  the  Author 
of  our  beings  hath  so  kindl}'  ordered  the  state  of  things  be- 
tween himself  and  us,  that  that  which  sums  up  all  our  duty 
sums  up  all  our  felicity  too.  Love  to  Grod  ;  this  sums  up  all 
that  we  are  to  do,  and  all  that  we  are  to  enjoy.  By  one 
and  the  same  love,  we  Wtally  do  all  that  can  be  done  by  us 
in  point  of  duty,  and  vitally  enjoy  all  that  can  be  enjoyed 
by  us  in  point  of  felicity.  Therefore  wonder  not,  that  there 
should  be  these  two  references  of  religion,  that  belong  to 
it  in  itself  most  abstractly  considered,  so  that  we  cannot 
consider  or  form  a  notion  of  it,  but  we  must  involve  both 
of  these;  for  it  must  be  performed  to  some  one,  and  by 
some  one.  There  can  be  no  such  thing  as  vital  religion, 
but  it  must  be  terminated  upon  God,  and  subje'ctcd  in  our- 
selves ;  and  so  cannot  but  have  these  distinct  references 
with  it.     Hereupon  then, 

1.  Consider  religion  according  to  the  former  reference, 
as  a  homage  to  God;  and  if  it  be  found  equally  to  be  a 
hoinage  to  him  from  a  family,  as  it  is  from  a  sinele  person, 
then  the  obligation  to  family  religion  will  be  indispensable 
and  indisputable  upon  this  ground.  We  shall  consider, 
how  this  obligation  as  to  persons  doth  arise,  that  is.  to  pay 
such  a  continual  homage  to  Grod  as  religion  includes  and 
involves  in  it. 

1st.  As  he  is  the  viost  excellent  of  all  beings,  so  there  is 
an  obligation  to  worship  him,  or  to  bear  a  religions  dispo- 
sition and  affection  of  soul  towards  him.  That  name  of 
God,  which  includes  all  divine  excellencies  and  perfections 
in  it,  "  is  exalted  above  all  blessing  and  praise."  Neh.  ix.  5. 
Hence  it  is  consequent,  that  my  capacity  measures  my 
obligation.     And  I  pray  consider  that ;  and  let  your  own 


614 


THE  OBLIGATIONS  TO 


Serm.  II. 


thoughts,  as  you  hear  it,  examine  it.  If  the  Divine  name, 
comprehensive  of  all  excellencies,  be  exalted  above  all 
blessing  and  praise ;  then  I  can  never  go  beyond  what  I 
owe  in  pomt  of  homage  thereunto.  And  therefore  it  can- 
not be,  but  that  capacity  mast  measure  obligation.  If  I 
am  capable  of  doing  so  much  in  a  way  of  homage  to  the 
supreme  and  most  excellent  Being,  I  am  bound  to  come 
up  to  that.  If  I  caw  do  more,  I  must  still  do  that  more: 
and  so  on  still ;  because  this  blessed  name  is  exalted  above 
all  blessing  and  praise.  If  I  have  a  capacity  then  in  my 
own  person  to  do  any  thing  in  a  way  of  duty  towards  this 
most  excellent  Being,  whereunto  therefore  I  owe  that  duty ; 
whatsoever  that  capacity  of  mine  extends  to,  I  am  to  serve 
and  glorily  him  according  to  the  utmost  of  it.  And  if  I 
am  to  be  considered,  not  only  in  my  own  single  personal 
capacity,  but  as  the  head  of  a  family  also;  then,  if  capa- 
city do  measure  obligation,  I  am  to  do  all  that  in  me  lies, 
that  he  may  have  as  nmch  honour  from  my  family,  as  he 
is  to  have  from  me;  because  it  is  as  much  owing,  and  I 
san  never  over-do  in  point  of  duty  towards  him,  in  what- 
ev^er  capacity  I  stand. 

Suppose  then  my  single  capacity  to  be  indeed  improved 
to  serve  and  glorify  him,  but  that  I  neglect  the  other ;  may 
not  he  come  and  say,  "  There  is  another  capacity  in  which 
you  stand,  pray  what  do  you  for  me  in  that  1  Do  you  owe 
me  no  duty,  as  you  are  the  master  of  a  family,  and  have 
the  care  of  others  upon  you'?  Both  you  and  those  for 
whom  you  are  concerned  owe  me  duty  in  that  capacity; 
and  you  are  concerned  to  see  that  that  duty  be  done,  by 
reason  of  the  authority  that  you  have  over  them,  and  the 
obligation  that  you  can  subordinately  lay  upon  them." 
This  is  implied  in  the  text;  "As  for  me  and  my  house, 
we  will  serve  the  Lord."  He  supposeth  that  capacity  in- 
herent in  him,  that  he  could  not  only  do  such  duty  or  ser- 
vice himself,  but  that  he  could  oblige  those  that  were  under 
his  care. 

Now  where  is  that  man,  that  dare  stand  forth  and  say, 
"  It  is  true  I  owe  all  the  homage  I  am  capable  of  perform- 
ing for  my  own  person,  to  that  most  excellent  of  all  beings, 
because  lie  is  most  excellent,  and  because  his  name  is  far 
exalted  above  all  blessing  and  praise ;  but  my  family  owes 
him  nothing,  or  I  owe  him  nothing  for  my  family  7" 
Whereas  you  are  in  the  capacity  of  a  governor  of  a  family, 
as  well  as  in  a  single  capacity;  and  may  do  still  more  to 
glorify  that  name  in  your  family  capacity,  than  you  could 
do  in  the  other  alone;  but  while  there  is  a  capacity  unan- 
swered of  glorifying  the  most  excellent  Being,  an  obliga- 
tion must  remain  upon  me  to  answer  it,  since  I  can  never 
here  exceed  or  even  come  up  to  what  he  deserves. 

2dly,  The  obligation  to  religion  ariseth  also  from  our 
dependance  upon  the  Divine  Being  for  our  first  and  for  our 
'.ontinued  being,  as  he  is  our  Creator,  and  our  continual 
Preserver,  and  consequently  our  Owner.  And  can  any 
man  say,  "God  hath  created  me,  but  he  hath  not  created 
mine  !  He  continually  preserves  and  sustains  me,  but  he 
doth  not  preserve  and  sustain  mine  !"  But  if  I  owe  him 
my  all,  upon  account  of  my  own  dependance  on  him,  for 
my  being,  and  for  my  hoped  and  expected  well-being,  pre- 
sent and  eternal ;  is  not  the  case  so  with  my  family  also  ? 
Is  he  not  the  Proprietor  and  Owner  of  that,  as  well  as  of 
myself?  Who  would  not  tremble  to  say,  "  God  hath  no  in- 
terest in  my  family,  no  right  there  V  And  if  he  hath  an 
interest  and  propriety  there,  shall  he  not  be  owned  and 
have  a  homage  paid  him  by  my  family  as  such  1  And  I 
being  a  certain  sponsor  for  them,  and  set  over  them,  am 
bound  to  do  all  that  in  me  is,  that  the  obligation  upon  them 
be  answered  as  well  as  that  personally  upon  myself. 

3dly,  The  dueness  of  religion  as  a  homage  to  God,  may 
be  further  argued  from  the  very  nature  of  man ;  not  only 
with  reference  to  personal,  but  to  domestical  religion,  as  he 
is  naturally  not  only  a  reasonable,  but  a  sociable  creature. 
As  he  is  a  reasonable  creature,  so  he  owes  religion  as  a 
homage  to  him,  who  has  been  the  Author  of  this  rational, 
intelligent  nature  to  him.  As  he  is  a  sociable  creature,  so 
he  owes  social  religion,  or  worship  in  society;  and  in  that 
society  first,  wherein  he  is  first  capable  of  rendering  it,  that 
is,  in  his  family.  This  obligation  lies  upon  him,  and  is 
always  first  to  be  answered.  There  was  social  worship  in 
families  before  there  could  be  other  social  worship.  And 
that  obligation,  if  it  lay  once,  lieth  always  upon  the  same 


sort  of  persons.  As  God  hath  made  me  a  creature  apt  for 
society,  and  hath  cast  me  into  such  societies,  I  am  obliged 
to  worship  him  in  them,  by  the  very  law  of  my  own  na- 
ture. 

4thly,  This  debt  of  religion  to  God,  even  as  from  a 
family,  is  to  be  argued  from  the  very  constitution  of  fami- 
lies. They  are  divine  plantations  settled  by  God  himself, 
for  this  very  end  and  purpose,  to  be  nurseries  of  religion 
and  godliness.  If  God  be  the  Author  of  such  a  constitu- 
tion, and  if  religion  be  the  end  for  which  he  hath  purposely 
constituted  them,  then  certainly  there  ought  to  be  lamily 
religion  and  godliness.  For  the  former,  nothing  is  plainer. 
"God  setteth  the  solitary  in  families,"  Psalm  Ixviii.  6. 
God  hath  so  provided,  that  men  should  not  live  single  and 
apart  in  this  world  in  an  ordinary  course ;  but  he  hath 
so  stated  things,  that  they  must  be  united  and  meet  to- 
gether first  in  families.  And  he  in  his  providence  makes 
so  many  single  persons  to  be  so  and  so  related,  as  to  con- 
stitute a  family.  And  what  will  he  have  these  families 
for?  Plainly  to  be  seminaries  of  religion.  And  see,  how 
his  design  for  that  purpose  may  be  evinced.  If  the  most 
fundamental  relation  in  a  family,  the  conjugal  relation, 
be  for  that  end,  and  was  appointed  by  God  for  that  end, 
then  certainly  the  family  must  be  in  the  design  of  its  con- 
stitution set  up  for  that  end  ;  but  the  former  is  plain.  The 
fundamental  relation  in  the  family  was,  that  God  might 
have  out  of  it  a  godly  seed;  as  the  original  constitution  of 
families  is  referred  to  in  Mai.  ii.  15.  "  Did  not  he  make 
one"  for  one  at  first  1  "And  wherefore  one  1  That  he 
might  seek  a  godly  seed."  He  did  not  design  the  original 
constitution  of  that  fundamental  relation,  by  which  man- 
kind was  to  be  continued  and  propagated  in  this  world, 
only  that  there  might  be  a  continual  descent  of  human 
nature;  but  that  religion  might  .still  be  transmitted  from 
age  to  age.  And  this  design  of  his  he  never  quits.  For  is 
it  a  supposable  thing,  that  his  creature,  by  revolting  from 
him,  and  sinning  against  the  obligaiion  of  that  law, 
which  was  naturally  and  primarily  laid  upon  him  as  he 
was  such  a  creature,  should  be  capable  thereby  of  nullify- 
ing God's  constitution,  or  making  such  obligation  to 
cease  1 

Nothing  then  can  be  plainer,  than  that,  if  God  have  ap 
pointed  families  to  be  nurseries  of  religion  from  age  to  age 
in  this  world,  there  must  then  be  such  a  thing  as  family 
religion.  Otherwise  why  should  he  seek  such  a  godly  seed 
out  of  human  families,  more  than  out  of  the  cells  of  wild 
beasts,  if  there  were  no  such  thing  as  religion  and  godli- 
ness designed  by  him  to  be  kept  up  in  families  1  How  shall 
godliness  spring  up  with  human  nature  in  families,  if  there 
be  no  such  thing  as  family  godliness  carefully  maintained 
and  kept  up  in  the  several  exercises  of  it  there  ? 

Thus  far  the  obligation  unto  religion,  as  it  is  a  debt  to 
God,  and  equally  concerning  families  as  persons,  may  be 
plainly  inferred  from  rational  grounds ;  and  that  these 
things  were  not  unapprehensible  to  men,  even  by  natural 
light;  though  they  depend  not  thereupon;  for  whether 
we  understand  this  or  understand  it  not,  this  truly  is  the 
state  of  the  case.  But  that  the  thing  hath  such  a  founda- 
tion in  nature,  may  be  collected  hence,  that  they  who  have 
had  no  other  light  than  merely  natural,  have  apprehended 
an  obligation  upon  them  to  family  religion.  For  other- 
wise how  came  it  to  pass,  that  besides  their  temple  wor- 
ship, among  the  pagans  they  had  their  lares,  their  penutes, 
to  worship  in  their  families,  their  family  and  domestical 
gods,  as  they  called  them  1  Whence  came  it  to  pass,  that 
Laban  had  his  gods  in  his  house,  which  were  carried 
away  from  him  by  Rachel  1  Whence  was  it,  that  Micah 
had  his  idol  in  his  house,  and  his  domestical  priest  to  ma- 
nage religion  in  his  family?  As  in  Judg.  xviii.  you  have 
the  story  at  large,  from  ver.  14.  But  you  may  say,  "  All 
this  was  but  idolatry." 

But  then  I  would  appeal  to  your  reason  or  any  man's 
else  ;  in  the  room  and  stead  of  what  stood  that  idolatry  1 
Was  it  to  be  supposed,  that  it  must  stand  in  the  room  of 
irreligion,  or  in  the  room  of  no  religion  1  Or  did  it  only 
stand  in  the  stead  of  true  religion  1  Let  any  man  answer 
by  the  rules  of  reason  and  conscience,  when  he  considers 
this  case.  Here  was  idolatrous  worship  in  families  among 
wilder  pagans  ;  they  had  their  lares,  their  pcna/es.  What 
was  to  be  in  the  room  of  this  1    Or  what  was  this  to  be  in 


Serm.  III. 


FAMILY  RELIGION  AND  WORSHIP. 


615 


the  room  of  1  Was  it  to  be  in  the  room  of  no  religion,  or 
of  true  religion  1  Sure  it  must  be  in  the  room  of  true  reli- 
gion ;  and  that  it  had  supplanted.  It  did  not  stand  in  the 
room  of  no  religion,  or  no  religion  was  not  to  be  the  thing 
which  should  succeed  it,  if  this  idolatrous  wonhip  were  to 
be  removed  out  of  such  families. 

So  may  this  matter  be  argued  concerning  family  reli- 
gion and  the  dueness  of  it;  if  you  consider  religion  in 
general  as  a  homage  owing  to  God,  and  equally  owing  to 
him  from  a  family  as  from  single  persons ;  and  to  w^hich  a 
single  person,  if  he  be  also  a  master  of  a  family,  is  equally 
obliged  for  them  as  for  himself  to  do  the  utmost  that  he 
can,  that  it  should  be  rendered  to  God  as  a  debt  to  the 
Divine  Majesty. 


SERMON  III.* 

To  prove  that  there  ought  to  be  such  a  thing  as  family 
religion,  it  hath  been  proposed  to  consider  both  the  ra- 
tionol  and  the  scriptural  grounds,  upon  which  it  stands. 

First,  For  the  former,  the  rational  grounds  of  it,  we 
have  chosen  to  insist  upon  one  general  argument  from  the 
nature  of  religion  ;  which,  as  hath  been  observed,  is  to  be 
considered  under  a  twofold  notion,  both  of  which  it  na- 
turally involves ; — as  a  homage  to  God,  and — as  an  advan- 
tage to  men. — If  it  be  found  in  this  double  reference  to 
concern  men  in  families  as  such,  then  it  ought  upon  both 
accounts  to  have  place  there. 

1.  We  have  already  considered  it  for  this  purpose  in  the 
former  reference,  as  a  homage  to  God.  Proceed  we  now 
to  the  other  branch. 

2.  Consider  religion  as  an  advantage  to  men.  And  if 
upon  that  account  too,  the  reason  of  the  thing  doth  as  much 
reach  my  family,  as  it  doth  myself;  then  family  religion 
ought  to  be  inferred  upon  me  as  a  charge,  as  an  obligation 
necessarily  incumbent,  as  well  as  personal  religion.  Plain 
it  is  that  religion  is  the  greatest  advantage  to  a  man  that  he 
is  any  way  capable  of  Do  not  we  know,  that  he  is  an  un- 
done, lost  creature,  separate  from  God,  having  nothing  to  do 
with  God  1  It  is  by  religion,  that  he  comes  to  have  to  do  wnth 
God.  He  neither  trusts  him,  nor  loves  him,  nor  feareth  him, 
nor  delighteth  in  him,  if  there  be  no  religion ;  for  these  are 
all  the  essential,  vital  parts  of  it.  And  therefore  religion, 
as  it  is  that  by  which  I  have  to  do  with  God,  is  necessary 
for  me.     And  it  is  necessary  for  mine,  as  much  as  for  me. 

And  a  twofold  consideration  will  evince  to  us  the  ob- 
ligation, that  must  lie  upon  family  governors  to  introduce 
and  to  keep  up  religion  in  their  families,  upon  this  ac- 
count, as  a  necessary  advantage  to  them;  namely,  ^^rt^cr- 
nal  love,  and  polernal  fidelity.  When  I  say  paternal, 
it  is  not  as  if  I  would  confine  the  duty  as  owing  from  a 
parent  to  a  child  only.  For  the  notion  of  paternal  goeth 
further.  Every  family  governor  is  a  pater-familias,  in  a 
sort,  a  father  unto  the  whole  family ;  as  a  prince  is  a  father 
to  the  whole  community  which  he  governs.  And  so  it  is 
a  sort  of  paternal  love  and  paternal  fidelity,  that  he  oweth 
and  is  chargeable  with  in  reference  to  the  whole  family, 
who  is  the  head  and  governor  of  it.  Whereupon  it  is,  that 
duty  among  all  relatives  is  summed  up  in  the  fifth  com- 
mandment, "  Honour  thy  father  and  thy  mother."  We  must 
thereupon  understand  it  to  be  implied,  that  all  superiors  are 
signified  by  father  and  mother,  and  all  inferiors  by  children, 
the  implied  opposite  term.     Hereupon  then  I  say,  that, 

1st,  Paternal  love  doth  oblige  the  governor  of  a  family, 
the  pater-familias,  to  take  care,  that  family  religion  do  ob- 
tain in  his  family,  as  it  is  a  necessary  advantage  to  them. 
The  thing  speaks  itselfso  plainly,  that  I  need  not  insist  upon 
it  -,  but  on.y  direct  your  thoughts  thereupon  to  the  con- 
trary, that  you  may  see,  with  how  odious  and  frightful  a 
visage  tViatwiU..  look.  If  paternal  love  do  oblige  and  would 
prompt  to  such  a  care  of  a  family,  as  that  religion  may  ob- 
tain and  ta^e  jlace  among  them,  as  a  necessary  advantage 
which  ftiey  cannot  want;  then  the  contrary  unto  this, 
must  spearf  in  the  root  the  contrary  unto  love:  and  that 
contrary  must  be  the  luost  horrid  thing  in  this  case  that 
can  be  thought,  that  is,  cruelty  unto  the  verj'  height.     For, 

*  Preached  December  24,  1693. 


as  this  love  s-peaks  tenderness,  mercifulness,  compa.s.sioQ 
to  the  souls  of  men,  that  I  cannot  endure  to  see  them 
perish  in  ignorance  of  God,  and  estrangement  from  him 
and  neglect  of  him ;  the  contrary  must  needs  speak  the 
most  horrid  and  the  most  barbarous  cruelty;  a.s  if  a  man 
should  say,  and  nut  care  if  it  was  written  in  his  forehead, 
"  I  mind  not  what  becomes  of  the  .souls  of  men  that  are 
committed  to  my  charge,  I  care  not  whether  they  be  saved 
or  perish,  whether  they  be  happy  or  miserable  to  all  eterni- 
ty." With  how  horrid  and  frightful  a  vi.sage  doth  this  look, 
only  to  represent  and  slate  the  matter  just  a.s  it  is  !  And, 

2dly,  Paternal /(ie/iVj/  doth  oblige  to  it  also.  For  there 
is  a  trust  committed  by  the  great  and  universal  Lord  of  all 
to  every  master  of  a  family,  over  them  that  are  under  his 
charge ;  and  in  reference  to  them  he  is  a  trustee.  It  is 
virtually  said  to  every  one,  by  the  Divine  law  and  pro- 
vidence compared  and  put  together;  "I  constitute  thee 
my  trustee  in  reference  to  this  part  of  mankind,  as  many 
as  are  collected  and  gathered  into  thy  famih',  and  belong 
to  it,  whether  naturally  or  by  accession ;  they  are  thy 
charge,  I  intrust  them  to  thee."  Thereupon,  as  hath  been 
noted  to  you  lormerly,  from  1  Tim.  v.  8.  He  that  doih  not 
provide  for  his  own,  and  especially  for  tho.se  of  his  own 
house,  hath  denied  the  faith,  and  is  worse  than  an  infidel. 
The  word  is  very  emphatical,  toovocX;  he  that  doth  not  use 
his  mind  and  forethought  about  the  affairs  and  concerns  of 
his  family.  Let  it  be  but  according  to  common  reason 
considered,  how  far  that  providing  for  one's  own  must  ex- 
tend. And  to  say,  that  one  that  doth  it  not  is  worse  than 
an  infidel,  is  to  say,  that  infidels  even  by  the  light  and  law 
of  nature  may  be  directed  to  do  much,  in  reference  to  the 
care  of  their  families  in  matters  of  religion.  As  is  intima- 
ted by  what  was  noted  to  you  the  last  lime  about  their  lares 
and  their  peiiates,  their  household  gods  to  worship  in  fami- 
lies, besides  the  worship  which  they  used  to  pay  in  the 
temples;  and  whereof  you  have  instances  in  Laban's  and 
in  Micah's  families.  And  wherea.s  it  may  be  obvious  to 
say,  "But  this  was  all  but  idolatry:"  this  must  indeed  be 
confessed  to  be  true.  But  what  was  to  be  in  the  room  of 
that  idolatry  ?  Sure  true  religion,  and  not  irreligion !  So 
that  room  should  have  been  filled  up.  And  no  man,  that 
doth  but  commune  with  himself  and  consult  his  own  un- 
derstanding, can  allow  himself  upon  serious  thoughts  to 
think,  "  I  do  owe,  even  upon  account  of  a  trust  reposed 
in  me,  a  care  and  concern  about  the  outward  man  of  the 
several  individual  persons  of  my  family,  but  none  at  all 
about  their  souls  ;  I  am  to  lake  care,  that  they  have  meat 
and  drink  and  all  necessaries  for  their  bodies,  but  about 
their  souls  I  am  to  take  no  care."  Men  will  know  one  day, 
that  they  owe  an  account,  and  a  severe  account  too,  unto 
the  Author  of  all  nature,  if  they  allow  themselves  to  violate 
the  law  of  nature;  which  is  not  an  arbitrary  thin?,  doth 
not  depend  upon  the  minds  of  men,  or  what  they  think  or 
think  not.  But  whether  they  think  or  not,  the  nature  of 
things  alters  not;  but  God 'will  be  a  God  still,  and  a 
creature  will  be  a  creature  still,  and  the  respects  the 
same  between  God  and  a  creature.  So  that  it  is  an 
idle  mistake  to  think,  that  the  laM'  of  nature  is  a  mutable 
thing.  Men  do  so  impose  upon  themselves,  merely  upon 
this  ground,  that  they  think  there  is  no  law  of  nature  hut 
what  exists  in  men's  minds ;  whereas  it  lies  even  in  the 
natureof  things,  and  their  natural  references  toone  another. 
It  is  to  be  considered  in  its  objective  state,  before  it  be  con- 
sidered in  its  subjective.  Those  respects  that  result  be- 
tween one  thing  and  another,  and  especially  between 
Creator  and  creature,  will  be  unalterably  the  same,  what- 
soever is  or  is  not  in  our  minds. 

And  so  whether  you  consider  religion  as  a  homage  to 
God,  or  as  an  advantage  to  man,  you  see  the  oblisration 
that  will  lie  upon  men  either  way  unto  family  religion. 
But  then,  according  to  the  method  proposed. 

Secondly,  I  come  to  evince  to  you  the  substance  of  the 
thing,  that'  there  ought  to  be  family  religion,  from  scrip- 
tvrc  grouiuls.     And, 

1.  I  shall  labour  to  establish  the  general  fmind/it ion  upon 
such  grounds;  namely,  that  there  is  a  charge  lying  upon 
the  governors  of  families  to  take  care,  thai  there  be  such  a 
thing  as  familv  religion :  that  there  may  be  no  shifting 
here;  but  that  "they  may  know  where  the  obligation  pri- 


GIG 


THE  OBLIGATIONS  TO 


Serm.  II. 


marity  lies,  and  where  the  fault  lieth,  if  it  be  not  answered  : 
that  it  is  incumbent  upon  heads  of  families,  to  settle  and 
keep  on  foot  religion  in  them. 

1st,  If  there  be  a  power  given  them,  there  is  a  care  lying 
upon  them.  These  two  will  answer  one  another.  But 
they  have  a  power  given  them.  The  station  of  superiority, 
wherein  God  hath  set  them,  speaks  that.  "  Honour  thy 
father  and  thy  mother."  In  reference  to  the  inferior  rela- 
tives of  the  family  they  have  a  governing  power:  and  if 
there  is  a  duty  to  be  paid  them,  then  there  is  a  power 
wherewith  they  are  invested,  that  renders  them  the  due 
objects  thereof.  Therefore  the  great  God  himself,  speak- 
ing of  himself  as  invested  with  such  capacities,  and  person- 
ating the  governor  of  a  family,  saith,  (Malac.  i.  6.)  "  A 
sou  honoureth  his  father :  I  am  a  father,  where  is  the 
honour  due  to  me  hereupon"?  A  servant  feareth  or  reve- 
rencelh  his  master;  I  am  a  master,  where  is  my  rever- 
ence 1"  Therefore  there  is  an  honour  and  reverence  due 
to  fathers  and  masters  as  such,  and  therefore  a  power  con- 
feired  upon  them ;  and  with  a  power  a  care  cannot  but 
be  incumbent. 

'2d  ly,  How  otherwise  was  it  possible  for  Joshua,  as  here 
iu  the  text,  to  undertake  for  his  family  as  well  as  himself? 
to  be  a  sponsor  for  theml  "  But  as  for  me  and  my  house, 
we  will  serve  the  Lord." 

3dly,  How  comes  it  to  pass,  that  Abraham  is  so  highly 
commended  for  this,  and  his  example  recommended,  that 
he  would  command  his  household,  that  they  should  keep 
the  way  of  the  Lord  1  that  he  should  use  an  authority, 
and  lay  an  obligation  upon  them  to  keep  God's  ways,  that 
is,  no  doubt,  to  attend  upon  the  exercise  of  religion  1 

4ihly,  If  there  were  not  such  a  charge  and  care  lying 
upon  a  family  master,  what  meaning  can  we  suppose  the 
words  of  the  fourtli  commandment  should  have  1  "  Thou 
shall  remember  to  keep  holy  the  Sabbath-day,  thou,  and 
thy  son,  and  thy  daughter,  and  thy  man-servant,  and  thy 
maid-servant,  and  even  the  stranger,"  a  lodger.  Whence 
is  this,  that  such  a  charge  should  be  laid  upon  the  puter- 
familias  ?  though  as  is  commonly  and  very  aptly  observed, 
"it  doth  comprehend  together  the  conjugal  relatives,  who 
are  spoken  to  but  as  one  person.  These  two  are  one  :  and 
tlien  the  other  relatives  in  the  family  ensue,  "thy  son,  thy 
daughter,"  &c.  Yea,  and  if  there  be  a  stranger,  he  is  to 
partake,  if  in  the  provisions,  in  the  religion  of  the  family 
too.  And  I  remember  it  to  have  been  one  of  the  medita- 
tions of  Mr.  Fuller  in  his  miscellanies;  that,  having  had 
a  person  of  great  quality  one  night  lodged  under  his  roof 
as  a  stranger,  out  of  an  excess  of  modesty  he  forbore  the 
duties  of  his  family  that  night:  and  he  hath  a  penitential 
meditation  hereupon,  acknowledging  his  great  fault,  and 
making  very  solemn  resolutions  and  vows  never  to  be 
guilty  of  the  like  again;  but  if  any  one,  though  never  so 
great,  did  partake  in  the  provisions,  he  should  partake  in 
the  religion  of  his  family. 

But  that  this  charge  should  be  laid  upon  the  family 
master,  even  about  that  piece  of  religion,  the  observation 
of  the  Lord's  day ;  it  bespeaks  a  charge  from  God  incum- 
bent upon  the  pater-familias  in  reference  to  the  religion  of 
the  family. 

And  if  any  should  yet  pretend  to  have  a  doubt ;  I  would 
have  them  to  consider  the  matter  with  caution,  whether 
there  be  any  such  charge  lying  upon  them.  Truly  it  con- 
cerns men,  in  point  of  prudence,  to  beware  how  they  are 
shy  of  owning  an  authority  in  their  families;  for  if  you 
should  pretend  to  doubt  it,  you  would  teach  them  it  may 
be  to  doubt  and  to  deny  it  too,  and  so  make  yourself  to 
signify  nothing  in  your  family.  But  if  that  is  but  of  small 
concernment  to  j^ou  ;  it  is  of  the  greatest  concern  imagin- 
able, in  reference  to  him  whom  you  represent,  and  with 
whose  authority  you  are  invested.  You  have  so  much  of 
the  power  of  God  lodged  and  seated  in  you;  and  it  is 
treachery  and  falsehood  to  the  great  Lord  and  Ruler  of 
the  world,  to  let  his  authority,  wherewith  he  hath  invested 
you,  be  neglected  and  slighted  and  trampled  upon,  or  not 
exerted  and  put  forth  to  the  uttermost  for  the  ends  of 
which  he  hath  so  seated  it. 

And  if  yet  any  should  think,  that  such  a  charge  is  not 
sufficiently  evinced  to  lie  upon  them ;  I  would  very  fain 
know,  in  reference  to  what  relative  of  the  family  you  think 
't  lieth  not  ?    For, 


1st,  In  reference  to  the  conjugal  relatives,  they  are  joint 
partakers  therein  ;  and  there  is  a  duty  incumbent  upon 
both,  even  upon  the  inferior  relative,  especially  in  case  of 
the  other's  absence  or  indisposition.  But  it  lieth  supreme- 
ly upon  him  that  is  first  in  that  relation,  who  is  required  to 
dwell  with  his  wife,  even  as  a  man  of  knowledge,  accord- 
ing to  knowledge;  (1  Pet.  iii.  7.)  implying  therefore,  that 
he  hath  a  charge  even  in  reference  to  her.  And  it  is  his 
great  iniquity,  if  he  do  not  labour  to  render  himself  capable 
to  discharge  it;  to  add  to  her  treasury  of  knowledge  of 
divine  things,  that  concern  her  God-ward.  They  are  to 
be  mutual  helpers  one  to  another,  in  reference  to  the  con- 
cernments of  their  souls  and  a  future  state,  and  to  the  joint 
duty,  which  they  owe  to  the  Author  of  their  beings,  as  par- 
takers together  "  of  the  grace  of  life."  But  the  charge 
lieth  chiefly  here,  (though  it  be  mutual  towards  one  an- 
other,) upon  the  superior  relative;  though  each  is  also  to 
endeavour  to  the  uttermost  the  saving  of  the  other's  soul, 
"  What  knowest  thou,  O  wife,  whether  thou  shalt  save  thy 
husband'?  or  how  knowest  thou,  O  man,  whether  thou 
shalt  save  thy  wifel"  1  Cor.  vii.  16.  Both  are  as  it  were 
to  engage  to  their  uttermost  in  an  endeavour  to  save  one 
another's  souls. 

2dly,  In  reference  to  children,  there  can  never  be  any 
doubt ;  who  are  .sprung  from  you,  in  reference  to  the  souls 
of  whom  you  have  a  special  charge  lying  upon  you.  It  is 
true,  you  did  not  make  their  souls ;  there  is  another  Father 
of  their  spirits.  You  are  the  fathers  of  their  flesh,  not  of 
their  spirits:  as  these  two  are  contradistinguished  in  Heb. 
xii.  9.  But  you  are  the  means  of  those  souls  coming  into 
union  with  mortal  flesh,  and  of  bringing  them  mto  a  world 
of  .snares  and  temptations  dangerous  to  their  souls.  Can 
it  then  be,  that  you  should  be  exempt  from  care  and  con- 
cern in  reference  to  their  souls'? 

3dly,  As  to  servants,  God  hath  charged  them  to  obey 
you.  He  hath  most  expressly  directed  you  to  command 
them  equally,  as  knowing  yourselves  to  be  under  a  com- 
mand, that  you  have  a  Master  in  heaven,  and  are  to  com- 
mand them  for  his  ends  and  purposes.  Nothing  is  plainer, 
if  you  look  to  Eph.  vi.  Col.  iii.  and  iv.  1  Tim.  vi.  where 
these  relative  duties  are  spoken  of.  So  that  they  come  by 
contract,  as  your  children  do  by  nature,  under  your  com- 
manding and  governing  power  and  authority.  And  that 
power  infers  care,  and  principally  about  their  souls.  1 
could  appeal  to  any  master  of  servants  in  .such  a  case.  Do 
you  expect,  that  your  servants  should  serve  you  only  with 
their  hands  1  Do  you  not  expect  they  should  serve  you 
with  their  minds  and  understandings,  as  well  as  their 
limbs  1  Sure  then  their  inward  man,  their  souls,  are  to  be 
cared  for  by  j'ou,  as  well  as  their  outward  man,  their 
bodies.  You  would  not  have  them  to  do  you  only  such 
service  as  you  can  receive  from  a  beast ;  and  therefore  you 
are  to  take  care  of  their  spirits,  as  well  as  their  brutal  part. 

So  much  I  reckoned  it  was  necessary  to  lay  down  here 
upon  Scripture  grounds,  to  clear  our  foundation,  that  there 
is  such  a  thing  as  a  charge,  a  care  lying  upon  governors 
of  families  over  the  families  which  God  hath  intrusted 
them  with,  to  keep  up  religion  there.     Hereupon, 

2.  We  shall  proceed  to  give  you  proof  upon  Scripture 
grounds,  that  there  ought  to  be  in  particular  those  two  parts 
of  family  religion  maintained  and  kept  up  by  them,  upon 
whom  this  care  and  charge  hath  been  evinced  to  lie;  to 
wit,  family  instruction,  and  family  prayer.  And  we  shall 
endeavour  to  evince  both, 

1st,  Prom  such  scriptures,  as  either  command  the  one 
or  the  other  of  the.se,  in  such  terms  as  that  it  may  be  dis- 
cernible that  the  obligation  will  reach  to  families;  that  is, 
to  the  family  governors  in  reference  to  the  family:  either 
express  precepts ;  or  virtual  precepts,  such  passages  as 
some  way  imply  and  infer  precepts,  and  are  so  applicable, 
or  from  whence  inferences  may  be  collected  and  drawn. 
As, 

[l.J  For  family  instruction.  You  have  a  most  express 
command  upon  masters  of  families,  that  they  shall  teach 
the  substance  of  religion  to  them  who  are  under  their  care : 
nothing  can  be  plainer  than  those  words  in  Deut.  vi.  After 
this  was  given  in  charge  in  general,  (which  contains  all  re- 
ligion in  it,)  ver.  5,  6.  "  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God 
with  all  thine  heart,  and  with  all  thy  soul,  and  with  all 
thy  might:  and  these  words,  which  I  command  thee  this 


Serm.  III. 


FAMILY  RELIGION  AND  WORSHIP. 


er 


day,  shall  be  in  thine  heart."  Then  it  fulJows,  ver.  7.  "  And 
thou  shall  leach  them  diligenJy  unto  thy  children,  and 
shalt  talk  of  them  when  thou  siitest  in  thine  house,  and 
when  thou  walkest  by  the  wa}-,  and  when  thou  liest  down, 
and  when  thou  risest  up."  Observe  what  they  were  to 
teach  them;  the  substance  of"  religion,  all  comprehended 
in  the  love  of  God,  which  is  the  fulfilling  of  the  law: 
"  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God,  &c.  And  these 
words,'.'  and  all  that  may  be  referred  thither,  to  that  great 
and  all-eoraprehending  topic,  "thou  shalt  teach  and  dili- 
gently teach  thy  chiklren."  Children  means  the  family, 
as  we  noted  to  you  before  ;  an  apt  synecdochical  expres- 
sion, as  pater-familias  is  the  head  of  the  whole  family. 
"  And  thou  shalt  teach  them,  when  thou  sittest  in  thine 
house."  It  is  true,  there  are  other  occasions  to  be  taken  : 
but  this  speaks  a  stated  teaching,  to  have  times  on  purpose 
to  collect  and  gather  the  family,  and  to  set  oneself  in 
the  authority  of  a  family  master,  and  there  instruct  and 
teach  those  under  his  care  and  charge,  in  the  great  sub- 
stantials  of  religion.  You  have  the  same  thing  inculcated 
in  Deut.  xi.  19. 

And  more  general  precepts  of  the  same  kind  are  appli- 
cable plainly  enough  unto  this  purpose.  As,  when  we  are 
required  to  "  exhort  one  another,"  and  to  do  it  "  daily, 
while  it  is  called  to-day,  lest  any  be  hardened  through  the 
deceitfulness  of  sin,"  Heb.  iii.  1.3.  And  to  have  the  word 
of  Christ  dwelling  richly  in  us,  that  we  may  teach  and  ad- 
monish one  another.  Col.  iii.  IG.  How  obvious  is  it  to 
any  one  of  common  sense  to  infer,  that  if  I  owe  this  occa- 
sionally unto  a  fellow-Christian,  I  owe  it  statedly  to  my 
own  family  1  If  there  were  no  such  express  precept,  and 
a  man  had  this  to  allege  in  the  judgment  of  the  great  day, 
Lord,  thou  gavest  me  no  command ;  suppose  there  were 
no  such  positive  commands,  as  those  in  Deuteronomy, 
and  that  in  Proverbs,  for  instructing  and  training  up  chil- 
dren in  the  way  they  should  go :  suppose  such  general 
precepts  as  those  just  mentioned  were  alleged  to  any  man 
in  the  great  day,  "  You  knew  well  enough,  that  it  was  a 
duty  lying  upon  you  towards  any  fellow-Christian,  as  there 
was  occasion,  to  teach  and  exhort  and  instruct  him  ;  and 
he  was  under  the  same  obligation  towards  you  ;  had  you 
not  reason  and  understanding  enough  to  make  an  infer- 
ence, that  if  you  owe  so  much  to  another  occasionally, 
you  must  owe  much  more  statedly  to  your  own  '?"  What 
could  a  man  say,  if  this  were  urged  upon  him  from  the 
tribunal  of  the  Supreme  Judge  ? 

[■2.]  For  family  prayer,  such  general  precepts,  as  the 
Scripture  is  full  of,  are  capable  enough  of  application  to 
this  particular  case.  And  we  owe  so  much  to  God,  yea  to 
ourselves,  to  our  own  nature,  as  we  are  creatures  endued 
with  a  reasonable  nature,  as  to  make  the  inference.  That 
is,  that  when  we  are  charged  to  pray  with  all  prayei'  and 
with  all  supplication,  we  collect  hence;  sure  it  cannot  be 
said,  that  family  prayer  is  no  prayer. 

And  it  is  a  very  observable  thing,  though  I  have  not 
found  it  observed,  to  this  purpose ;  that  in  those  several 
places  of  Scripture,  where  the  duties  of  domestical  relatives 
are  largely  spoken  of,  immediately  thereupon  there  is  a 
charge  given  about  prayer,  or  some  mention  of  prayei-. 
Thus,  after  the  apostle  had  directed  in  the  5lh  and  tjth 
chapters  to  the  Ephesians,  Ye  wives,  carry  it  so  and  so  to 
your  husbands,  and  ye  husbands  to  your  wives ;  ye  children 
to  your  parents,  and  parents  to  children ;  ye  servants  to 
masters,  and  masters  to  servants  ;  and  after  some  directions 
given  to  arm  ourselves  for  spiritual  conflicts,  he  imme- 
diately subjoins,  (chap.  vi.  18.)  "  Praying  always  with  all 
prayer  and  supplication."  So  in  Col.  iv.  2.  just  after  a 
summary  of  the  several  duties  of  family  relatives,  follows 
this  exhortation,  "Continue  in  prayer;"  implying,  that 
there  must  be  a  continued  course  of  family  prayer  between 
these  several  family  relations,  or  else  all  is  in  vain  and  to 
no  purpose.  And  when  the  apostle  Peter  had  given  like 
directions,  all  is  enforced  upon  this  consideration,  that 
"  the  eyes  of  the  Lord  are  over  the  righteous,  and  his  ears 
are  open  unto  their  prayers,"  1  Pet.  iii.  12.  Be  sure  you 
do  so  and  so,  and  let  your  consideration  be  orderly  and 
regular,  as  ever  you  expect  your  prayers  should  be  answer- 
ed, that  in  your  families  shall  from  time  to  time  be  put  up. 

And  if  to  pray,  when  there  is  occasion,  with  other 
Christians  be  highly  recommended  by  our  Saviour  himself, 


as  more  grateful,  and  likely  to  be  more  successful,  when 
"  two  or  three  are  met  together;"  if  to  do  so  with  any  two 
or  three  be  .so  recommended,  then  most  of  all  with  those  of 
our  own  family  ;  because  with  them  the  occasions  are  more 
frequent,  and  may  more  easily  be  had,  and  the  obligation 
is  deeper  and  stronger  ;  as  any  man,  that  considers  what 
it  is  to  have  a  family,  and  lo  have  a  charge  lying  upon 
him  in  reference  thereto,  cannot  but  apprehend. 

But  beside  direct  precepts;  either  referring  to  a  family 
in  particular,  or  enjoining  both  family  instruction  and 
family  prayer  to  fellow-Chri.stians  in  general,  which  must 
be  more  obligatory  in  reference  to  those  with  whom  we 
have  a  particular  concernment;  besides  these,  I  say.  there 
are  virltud  precepts,  or  rules  extendable  unto  this  ca'^e,  that 
may  with  great  cogency  and  evidence  of  rea^^on  be  applied 
to  it;  which  suppose  matter  of  precept  in  the  case. 

As,  when  the  religion  of  families  is  spoken  of  as  matter 
of  Divine  acceptance;  that  implieth  it  to  be  agreeable  to 
God's  preceptive  will,  without  which  nothing  could  be 
acceptable.  As  when  it  is  spoken  by  way  of  encomium, 
that  "the  voice  of  joy  and  salvation  is  in  the  tabernacles 
of  the  righteous;"  (Psal.  cxviii.  l.'j.)  the  solemnities  ot 
religion  there  are  most  manifestly  intended.  Go  to  the 
dwelling  of  a  righteous  man,  and  there  you  may  hear  tlte 
voice  of  rejoicing  and  praise ;  it  belongs  to  a  ris;hieous  man 
as  such,  therefore  it  cannot  be  the  common,  cama)  rejoicing 
of  the  wicked  that  is  there  meant ;  but  it  must  be  a  holy, 
religious  thanksgiving  and  praising  of  God  ;  which  i.s  biit 
a  synecdochical  expression  of  all  the  other  parts  of  his 
worship:  as  if  he  had  said,  "  You  may  so  distinguish  the 
houses  and  tabernacles  of  the  righteous  and  unrighie.ju.s. 
You  may  pass  the  unrighteous  man's  dwelling,  and  ihtre 
you  hear  swearing  and  blaspheming  of  God,  it  may  be 
higher  jollity  than  in  the  other  ;  but  in  the  other  you  hear 
the  v^oice  of  joy  and  salvation  ;  God  is  owned  and  taken 
notice  of." 

So  again,  when  we  are  told,  what  com.f.lacency  God  doih 
difTerenily  take  in  the  solemnities  of  his  own  worship, 
(Psalm  Ixxxvii.  2.)  "  The  Lord  loveih  the  g^ies  (jJZion, 
more  than  all  the  dwellings  of  Jacob."  He  is  more 
honoured  and  glorified  by  the  public  solemnities  of  wor- 
ship; and  therefore  doth  take  more  complacency  in  thom. 
Yet  there  is  a  complacency  he  also  takes  in  the  wor-hip 
performed  in  the  several  habitations  of  his  people.  Why 
doth  God  love  the  gales  of  Zion,  more  than  all  the  dwellings 
of  Jacob,  but  only  because  there  was  the  seat  of  moie 
public,  solemn  religion  1  But  when  it  is  said,  he  loveih 
them  more,  it  is  intimated  that  he  loveth  the  dwellings  of 
Jacob  too;  and  upon  the  same  account,  because  every 
such  dwelling  was  to  be  looked  upon  as  a  seat  of  religion. 
For  Zion  was  loved  and  delighted  in  under  no  other  no- 
tion, and  the  several  dwellings  of  Jacob  are  delighted  in 
under  the  same  notion  ;  though  less,  as  they  are  less  pub- 
lic and  solemn. 

And  again,  threatenings  and  menaces  do  imply  precepts, 
for  violations  of  which  they  are  given  out.  As  that  terrible 
one,  Jer.  X.  25.  Pour  out  thy  fury,  thine  indignation,  upon 
the  heathen  that  know  thee  not,  and  upon  the  families  that 
call  nut  upon  thy  name.  It  is  an  imprecation;  but  what 
is  imprecated  bv  an  inspired  pei'son,  is  denounced  by  that 
God  that  inspires  him.  It  is  ven*  true  indeed,  that  families 
are  frequently  taken  in  a  larger  sense,  sometimes  they 
signifv  nations ;  but  both  beins  put  together  in  that  text,  it 
is  manifestly  ihe  design  of  the  Holy  Ghost  to  notify  to  us 
irreligious  families,  composing  and  making  upirreligiwis 
nations.  For  what  is  a  profane,  carnal  nation  and  people 
made  up  of?  Heathen  and  nations  are  all  one.  When 
nations  then  are  first  mentioned,  and  afterwards  families; 
it  is  plain  ihev  are  mentioned  as  constituent  parts  of  athe- 
istical, ungodly,  and  irreligious  nations.  And  when  it  is 
said,  "  Pour  o"ut  thy  fury  upon  such  ;"  it  signifies  a  de- 
nunciation of  Divine  fury  upon  such.  Dismal,  horrid 
clouds  of  wrath  han?  over"  such  families,  that  will  be  dis- 
chnrsred  in  terrible  destructive  storms. 

But  beside  what  maybe  thus  collected  from  precepts, 
which  are  expressly  so,"  or  virtual,  implied  ones;  we  shall 
proceed  to  evince  this  to  yon, 

2.l!v,  From  recommended  examples  in  Scripture ;  ex- 
amples in  reference  lo  one  or  the  other,  or  both  of  those 
\  parts  of  familv  religion  already  mentioned,  family  instruc- 


CIS 


THE  OBLIGATIONS  TO 


Serm.  III. 


tion,  or  family-prayer.  And  one,  or  the  other,  or  some- 
times both  together,  we  find  recommended  examples  of,  as 
ancient  as  we  have  any  records  whatsoever. 

The  religion  at  first,  that  began  so  early  in  the  world, 
tTiat  of  sacrificing,  which  could  never  be  without  invoca- 
tion, could  but  be  domestical;  whether  you  look  back  as 
high  as  Abel,  or  look  forward  at  your  leisure.  Do  but  pe- 
ruse the  short  history  of  Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob,  in  all 
their  several  commorations  and  commigrations ;  you  hear 
of  their  settling  no  where,  or  removing  no  whither,  but 
there  was  presently  an  altar  built  for  worship,  and  for  call- 
ing on  the  name  of  the  Lord.  You  have  a  treatise  on 
those  passages,  called  "  A  Family  Altar,"  written  by  a 
worthy  servant  of  Christ,  Mr.  Oliver  Heywood  ;  which 
would  be  of  singular  use  for  those  who  have  a  mind  to 
peruse  a  short  book  on  this  subject.  You  read  of  two  al- 
tars set  up,  in  one  chapter,  upon  a  twofold  removal  of  that 
great  saint  Abraham;  at  such  a  place  he  pitcheth,  and 
there  he  builds  an  altar;  and  by  and  by  to  such  a  place. he 
removes,  and  there  he  places  an  altar  for  calling  on  the 
name  of  the  Lord,  for  the  solemn  worship  of  his  family. 
Gen.  xii.  7,  8.  So  you  find  it  afterwards  to  be  wath  Isaac 
and  Jacob  in  their  removals,  or  in  their  settlings,  this  way 
or  that,  or  in  this  place  or  that. 

That  instance  also  of  Job  is  very  considerable  to  this 
purpose ;  who,  in  the  absence  of  his  sons  and  daughters 
offers  sacrifices  for  them.  Job  i.  5.  Which  could  never 
be  unaccompanied  with  solemn  invocation  and  calling 
upon  God.  And  thus,  it  is  said,  he  did  continually.  It  was 
a  stated  course  with  him ;  he  did  not  omit  it  when  they 
were  absent ;  for  he  must  be  understood  to  have  a  great 
family  about  him  even  then.  And  it  is  implied  to  have 
been  his  stated  course,  whether  his  children  were  with  him 
or  not ;  he  kept  up  a  course  of  family  religion  all  along. 

That  action  of  David,  though  I  do  not  find  it  taken  no- 
tice of  by  others,  seems  to  me  to  be  mighty  observable  to 
this  purpose  ;  that  in  the  history  given  us  of  his  bringing 
home  of  the  ark  to  the  place  which  he  had  appointecl  for 
it,  we  find  how  greatly  he  was  transported  with  the  so- 
lemnity of  that  action  and  undertaking.  But  when  all  that 
was  over,  which  was  public  and  solemn,  we  are  told,  that 
he  retired  at  length  to  bless  his  household,  2  Sam.  vi.  20. 
He  went  home  to  bless  his  household.  Nothing  is  more 
probable,  than  that  this  was  a  stated  course  with  him; 
and  that  he  had  so  contrived  and  ordered  the  work  of  that 
public  solemnity,  as  that  it  might  not  interfere  with  the 
worship  of  his  family;  and  therefore,  amidst  all  the  great 
pompous  triumph,  wherein  he  was  more  publicly  engaged, 
upon  this  account  he  bethinks  himself;  "  Well,  now  my 
hour  of  prayer  is  come  at  home ;"  and  so  the  matter  w'as 
prudently  ordered,  that  that  solemnity  being  over,  he  might 
return  home  to  perform  the  ordinary  duty  that  was  to  be 
done  there,  that  is,  to  bless  his  household,  and  call  upon 
the  name  of  the  Lord  there.  If  you  compare  this  with  that 
which  was  his  declared  resolution,  in  Psal.  ex.  2.  "  I  will 
behave  myself  wisely  in  a  perfect  way  ; — I  will  walk  within 
my  house  with  a  perfect  heart;"  "  I  will  keep  an  even 
steady  course,  there  shall  be  no  baulks,  no  ups  and  downs 
in  my  way  in  my  family  ;"  undoubtedly  meaning  a  way  of 
religion.  If  you  compare,  I  say,  that  resolution,  with  his 
sudden  bethinking  himself,  v/lien  he  had  been  engaged  in 
that  great  solemnity  but  now  mentioned,  "  Now  the  time 
is  come  that  I  must  go  home  and  bless  my  house  ;"  it  ap- 
pears to  have  been  a  stated  thing  with  him. 

If  from  thence  you  look  further  to  that  great  instance  of 
Daniel ;  when  he  was,  though  a  great  prince  in  another 
land,  yet  an  exile  from  his  own ;  and  that  terrible  and  se- 
vere interdict  was  published,  that  for  thirty  days  no  man 
should  pray  to  God  or  man,  but  to  the  prince  of  those 
countries  only ;  (a  snare  purposely  laid  for  Daniel's  life ;) 
you  read,  that  he  went  on  in  his  course,  as  he  was  wont 
to  do,  as  it  is  expressly  said ;  and  no  doubt  but  those 
wretched  conspirators  against  his  life  knew  his  course, 
otherwise  they  could  not  have  laid  this  snare  for  him.  And 
how  should  they  know  it  1  It  is  said,  Dan.  vi.  10.  He 
went  into  his  house,  and  his  windows  being  open  in  his 
chamber  toward  Jerusalem,  he  kneeled  upon  his  knees 
three  times  a  day,  and  prayed,  and  gave  thanks  unto  his 
God,  as  he  did  aforetime.  It  was  a  stated  course  with  him. 
And  that  this  must  be  family  prayer,  and  the  ordinary  re- 


ligion of  his  household,  is  the  most  reasonable  supposition 
imaginable.  For  otherwise,  if  it  were  secret  closet  prayer, 
how  should  it  be  known  to  have  been  his  course  before  1 
and  how  should  they  be  able  to  accuse  him  nowl  But 
consider  him  as  a  great  prince  in  a  foreign  country,  and  as 
having  a  family,  and  how  heroic  and  generous  a  resolution 
he  had  taken  up,  and  with  how  holy  a  fortitude  and  brave- 
ry of  spirit,  to  own  God  against  that  insolent  decree  of 
the  wicked  creatures  who  would  arrogate  that  honour  to 
the  prince  that  was  only  due  to  God :  considering  all 
these  things,  it  is  with  the  greatest  reason  imaginable  to  be 
supposed,  that  this  was  a  stated  course  with  him  of  family 
religion.  He  resolved,  that  his  worship  should  be,  as  it 
was  aforetime,  open  in  his  house.  And  thereupon  the  ad- 
vantage was  taken  against  him. 

The  instance  of  the  centurion  is  very  observable,  and 
observed  by  many,  in  Acts  x.  2.  He  is  said  to  be  a  devout 
man,  a  religious  man,  that  feared  God,  (that  is  an  ordinary 
expression  to  signify  worship ;  he  was  a  worshipper  of 
God,)  with  all  his  house.  He  was  a  worshipping  person, 
and  his  family  a  worshipping  family:  "And  he  prayed 
unto  God  alway."  Afterwards  you  read  in  the  chapter, 
that  at  the  time  when  the  angel  appeared  to  him,  he  was 
praying  in  his  house,  (ver.  30.)  house  being  put  for  house- 
hold, as  is  ordinary.  He  was  praying  in  his  family  in  his 
ordinary  course;  and  there  he  had  the  benign  appearance 
of  that  kind  messenger  from  heaven,  to  direct  him  to  the 
way  by  which  he  might  come  to  a  more  distinct  know- 
ledge of  the  Mediator,  and  of  worshipping  God  in  Christ. 
According  to  the  light  he  had,  and  the  sincerity  that  God 
had  given  him  in  proportion  thereunto,  his  acceptance 
above  was  declared  before.  But  God  resolved  to  help 
hira,  in  the  method  and  way  which  he  most  approved, 
unto  more  distinct  notices;  and  these  he  is  directed  how 
to  come  by,  even  at  the  time  when  he  was  engaged  in  his 
domestic  performances  of  religion  in  his  house. 

We  need  not  further  to  insist  for  the  eviction  of  this 
truth  in  the  general,  that  there  ought  to  be  such  a  thing  as 
family  religion.  It  were  easy,  if  necessary,  to  add  to  all 
these  considerations,  (and  it  ought  to  have  some  weight,) 
the  accounts  that  we  otherwise  have  of  the  practice  of  the 
primitive  church,  in  those  earlier  times  of  it  whereof  we 
have  any  account,  since  the  completing  of  the  canon  of 
Scripture,  That  is,  we  are  told  by  some  of  the  ancients, 
and  in  some  of  the  early  centuries,  of  the  twofold  social 
prayer  that  was  in  common  use  among  them,  family  prayer 
and  church  prayer,  or  prayer  in  their  church  assemblies. 
We  are  told,  what  things  they  were  wont  to  insist  upon  in 
prayer.  Besides  the  spiritual  blessings,  which  they  con- 
tinually and  daily  sought,  and  apprehended  themselves  to 
need,  they  were  wont  to  pray  for  the  lives  of  the  emperors 
that  ruled  over  them,  though  they  were  then  pagans.  And 
this(saith  that  ancient  author)  was  their  constant  practice, 
both  in  their  prayers  in  public  assemblies,  and  in  their  own 
houses. 

Having  gone  through  what  I  thought  fit  to  offer  in  proof 
of  the  substance  of  family  religion,  that  there  ought  to  be 
such  a  thing ;  I  shall  only  hint  this  to  you  for  a  close  :  That 
the  great  thing,  which  will  either  facilitate  or  obstruct  a 
general  compliance  with  the  mind  of  God  in  this  matter, 
will  be  the  consideration  that  men  shall  have  of  their  fami- 
lies, that  is,  whether  they  will  consider  them  as  constitu- 
tions for  this  world,  or  for  the  world  to  come.  If  you  can 
but  agree  with  yourselves,  under  which  of  these  notions 
to  look  upon  your  families;  accordingly  your  compliance 
with  the  mind  of  God  in  this  matter  will  either  be  facile 
or  difl[icult. 

It  is  true,  we  are  to  have  a  very  distinct  consideration  of 
the  nature  of  societies,  from  the  ends  of  them.  There  are 
societies,  that  in  their  design,  and  consequently  in  their 
nature,  are  purely  civil ;  and  others,  that  in  their  design, 
and  consequently  in  their  nature  and  constitution,  are 
purely  sacred.  Of  the  former  sort  are  kingdoms  and  na- 
tions and  incorporate  towns,  and  the  like ;  they  are  in  their 
very  nature,  because  they  are  from  their  ends,  purely  civil 
There  are  those  that  are  purely  sacred,  as  churches;  the 
very  end  and  design,  upon  which  they  are  collected,  is  wor- 
ship and  religion.  But  now  families  are  the  elements  of 
both  these  sorts  of  societies ;  that  is,  both  churches  and 
commonwealths  are  made  up  of  families.   Therefore  both 


Serm.  IV. 


FAMILY  RELIGION  AND  WORSHIP. 


619 


these  must  meet  in  a  family,  religion,  and  civil  and  secu- 
lar business ;  for  the  other  societies,  some  whereof  are 
purely  sacred,  others  purely  civil,  do  arise  out  of  families. 
Persons  are  elements  of  families;  families  are  the  ele- 
ments, of  which  both  churches  and  kingdoms,  or  common- 
wealths, are  composed  and  made  up.  And  as  the  one  sort 
of  these  is  purely  civil,  the  other  purely  sacred ;  that  which 
is  elementary  unto  both,  must  be  both.  And  therefore 
now,  when  any  come  to  turn  this  matter  in  their  thoughts, 
"  I  am  the  head  of  a  family  ;  but  what  sort  of  society  is  my 
family  1  Is  it  made  purely  for  this  world,  or  for  the  world 
to  come  1"  Sure,  where  the  consideration  of  both  worlds 
meet,  the  other  world  should  be  superior  or  uppermost; 
and  therefore  all  things  must  be  measured  there  with  sub- 
serviency and  reference  to  that.  But  if  any  will  say,  "  No ; 
families  are  made  only  for  this  world  :"  then  I  would  ask. 
What  is  the  world  made  for  1  Is  it  made  for  nothing  ?  Or 
is  it  made  for  itself,  to  centre  in  itself,  and  to  be  its  own 
end  1  You  can  never  avoid  it,  but  that  families  must  be 
supremely  and  ultimately  made  for  the  other  world  ;  and 
then  they  are  made  for  religion  principally  and  chiefly. 
And  no  man  can  behave  himself  well  in  any  station  or  re- 
lation in  a  family,  that  doth  not  let  this  thouglit  lie  deep 
in  his  mind  ;  "  My  family,  as  well  as  others,  is  a  consti- 
tution made  for  religion,  as  well  as  for  other  businesses; 
and  principally  for  that  noblest  business ;  for  where  both 
meet,  that  must  certainly  be  principal." 


SERMON  IV.* 

In  speaking  of  family  religion,  the  method  proposed 
wa-s,  to  evince  the  obligation  to  it,  in  reference  to  the  sub- 
stance of  the  thing,  and  then  in  reference  to  the  frequency 
of  it. 

I.  To  the  substance  of  the  thing;  that  there  ought  to  be 
such  a  thing  as  family  religion.  The  two  last  discourses'' 
have  been  employed  in  the  proof  of  this.  We  proceed  to 
speak  somewhat  also, 

II.  To  the  more  doubted  frequency  of  such  religious 
exercises,  as  lie  within  the  compass  of  families,  or  where- 
of families  are  to  be  the  stated  seats :  how  often,  or  at 
what  seasons,  such  family  worship  ought  to  be.  And  in 
reference  to  this, 

F^rst,  I  would  suggest  some  few  things,  byway  of  pre- 
paration.    As, 

1.  That  it  will  greatly  concern  us  all  to  get  an  habitual 
spirituality  inwrought  into  the  temper  of  our  souls,  in  or- 
der to  our  making  a  right  judgment  of  this  matter ;  when, 
at  what  time,  how  often,  we  ought  to  apply  ourselves  to 
the  exercises  of  .such  family  religion.  If  there  be  a  frame 
of  spirit  suitable  to  the  general  rules  of  practical  religion 
and  godliness,  the  determination  of  this  matter  will  be  very 
easy.  But  if  there  be  a  prevailing  carnality,  nothing  will 
be  more  difficult.  And  let  me  in  this  but  appeal  to  your 
own  reason,  to  that  common  understanding  that  belongs 
to  us  as  we  are  an  intelligent  sort  of  creatures :  that  is, 
you  would  be  loath  in  other  instances  to  commit  any  cause, 
wherein  you  are  concerned,  especially  if  your  all  were 
concerned  in  it,  to  the  judgment  of  an  enemy,  if  you  could 
help  it.  But  "  the  carnal  mind  is  enmity  against  God;" 
not  only  an  enemy,  but  enmity  itself.  And  I  beseech  you, 
do  you  think,  that  an  enemy  to  God  can  be  your  friend  ? 
Therefore  let  not  a  carnal  mind  make  a  judgment  in  this 
case  ;  whatsoever  you  do,  let  it  not  be  judged  by  that  mea- 
sure; but  labour  to  get  an  habitual  spirituality  inwrought 
into  your  souls,  and  then  the  judgment  of  this  case  will  lie 
very  easy. 

2.  We  should  look  upon  family  religion,  not  merely 
under  the  notion  of  a  duty,  and  as  imposed  ;  but  as  a  pri- 
vilege and  a  singular  vouchsafement  of  grace,  that  there 
may  be  such  a  thing;  that  God  will  be  invocateol,  or  even 
mentioned  in  our  families,  in  the  families  of  such  wretched 

*  Preached  December  31,  1M3.  a  See  pa?e  613.  &c. 

b  .Si  qiiis  ant  privatiis  a'lt  i^  ililicti?,  eonim  (nemp'^  ilrniilunii  decreto  non  .ste 
terit.  sarrifinii'i  interdiciiiit.  Hsec  pcena  apud  eos  est  smvin-iima.  tiuibiis  ita 
est  iiiterdictiim,  u  numero  impiorum  ac  scolcr.itorum  Imboiitiir  ;  iio  nii;iii's  Ju  . 


cresiures  as  we,  who  inhabit  the  dark  and  dismal  region 
of  this  lower  world  ;  that  God  will  have  wor>hip  ascend 
and  go  up  to  him  from  olf  our  earth,  and  out  of  our  hou.^es 
and  families.  Look  upon  it  as  a  marvellou.s  vouchsafe- 
ment of  grace  ;  and  that  will  greatly  facilitate  the  deiermi- 
naiion  of  this  case  also.  And  nothing  can  be  more  oppro- 
brious to  us  than  not  to  think  .so:  that,  when  God  doth  so 
far  vouchsafe  to  let  his  tabernacle  be  with  men  on  earth  ; 
"  Every  tabernacle  of  yours  shall  be  my  tabernacle ;  if 
you  con.sent,  if  you  donot  shut  me  out,  you  shallno  where 
have  a  tabernacle  but  what  shall  be  mine  ;  I,  the  high  and 
lofty  One  that  inhabit  eternity,  am  content  to  cohabit 
with  you,  and  to  have  your  house  for  my  sanctuary." 
What  a  vouchsafement  is  this !  and  how  opprobrious  a 
thing  not  to  count  it  so  ! 

It  hath  been  accounted  so,  even  in  the  very  pagan  world- 
A  divine  presence,  to  have  a  praslo  numen,  a  numen  at 
hand  and  ready,  how  great  a  privilege  hath  it  been  reck- 
oned!  In  the  dark  and  dismal  days  of  poperj',  when  that 
hath  been  regnant,  what  a  terrible  thing  hath  it  been  ac- 
counted to  excommunicate  a  nation  ;  to  put  it  under  an  in- 
terdict, that  there  should  be  no  religion  in  that  nation  ! 
Our  own  records  tells  us,  how  such  a  thing  hath  been  un- 
derstood and  resented  in  this  Innd  in  former  days.  And  if 
we  look  further  and  further  back  into  the  days  of  pagan- 
ism, I  remember  Ca;sar  in  his  Commentaries  b  tells  us, 
that  the  ancient  Gauls  did  reckon  no  more  terrible  punL'-h- 
ment  could  he  put  upon  them,  than  to  be  interdicted  the 
sacrifices.  And  by  that  means  it  wa.s,  that  their  Arch-fia- 
mens  ruled  over  them;  lliey  were  mere  absolute  governors 
among  that  people,  because  if  they  would  not  be  pre- 
scribed to  and  directed  bj'  them  in  every  case,  if  they 
would  not  suffer  them  to  take  up  all  controversies  among 
them,  they  would  presently  forbid  them  the  sacrilices; 
than  which  no  penalty  was  reckoned  more^  nor  any  so 
grievous. 

Now  let  us  consider  the  matter  so.  What  if  instead  of 
being  bidden  to  pray  in  our  families,  we  should  be  forbic - 
den  to  pray  in  them  1  Make  but  that  fearful  .supposition, 
to  see  how  it  will  relish  with  you.  Suppose  there  should 
be  a  particular  interdict  upon  your  house;  suppose  by 
some  special  signification  of  the  mind  of  God  from  heaven 
it  should  be  said,  "  I  will  allow  all  the  neighbouring 
houses  to  call  upon  me,  but  I  will  have  no  worship  out  of 
your  house  ;  let  all  the  rest  in  the  street  worship  me,  and 
I  will  hear  and  accept  them,  but  from  your  house  I  will 
accept  no  sacrifice,  I  will  hear  no  prayer."  What  a  terri- 
ble doom  were  this !  What  a  dark  and  horrid  cloud  would 
be  drawn  over  that  habitation,  if  it  should  be  said,  "  Here 
shall  be  no  prayer,  here  shall  be  no  mention  of  the  name 
of  God  !"  So  that,  as  in  a  like  case  represented  to  us  in 
reference  to  the  people  of  the  Jews,  the  poor  forlorn  mem- 
bers of  that  family  should  say,  "  We  may  not  make  men- 
tion of  the  name  of  the  Lord,"  Amos  vi.  10.  What  a  di.s- 
mal  thing  were  this !  Labour  but  to  get  your  souls  pos- 
sessed with  the  apprehension,  that  the  liberty  of  family 
worship  is  a  great  pri\ilcge  ;  and  let  that  be  forelaid  in 
your  minds,  when  you  come  to  determine  with  yourselves 
about  the  frequency,  how  often  we  shall  solace  ourselves 
with  this  gracious  vouchsalement  of  God  from  heaven  unto 
us.  Then  it  will  be  no  hard  thing  to  determine.  And 
take  this  also, 

3.  That  in  reference  to  the  determination  of  this  matter, 
the  same  consideration  is  to  be  had  of  family  religion,  that 
we  formerly  told  you  was  to  be  had  of  r^Migion  in  general; 
that  is,  that  it  ought  to  be  considered,  either  as  a  noniage 
to  God,  or  as  an  advantage  to  ourselves.  And  so  ii  will 
be  easy  hence  to  determine,  that  tlie  exercise  of  family 
religion  ought  to  be  so  frequent,  as  religion  considered 
under  this  twofold  notion  doth  require  ;  as  frequent  as  a 
homage  lo  God  is  to  be  paid,  and  as  our  own  spiritual  ad- 
vantage is  to  be  sought :  as  frequently  as  that  can  be  in 
consislencv  with  the  other  necessary  affairs  of  human  life. 
For  indeed  nothing  is  plainer,  and  that  therefore  must  with 
less  hesiiancv  be  granted,  than  that  nothing  can  be  at  that 
time  necessary,  when  that  which  is  inconsistent  with  it 

reilnnf.  nditum  eomni  sermonemqiie  defngiuiif.  ne  qiiid  OT  contvione  incom- 
inodi  acripiant :  neqiio  iis  ivtentilHis  ju«  redditur.  ne<iiie  hoiiiK  ullui  commuiu- 
catus.    Cesar,  de  Bell.  Gallic.  L.  «.  sect-  13.  edit.  Clcr. 


6^0 


THE  OBLIGATIONS  TO 


Serm.  IV. 


is  Inily  necessary.  That  must  be  acknowledged.  But 
then  there  is  a  great  deal  of  caution  to  be  used  in  judging 
of  this  necessity  that  shall  exclude  for  this  or  that  time  so 
great  a  thing  as  a  solemn  exercise  of  religion  out  of  a 
family.  It  must  be  a  great  thing,  that  shall  prevail  to 
exclude  that. 

But  let  me  ask  myself  the  question ;  I  am  one  that  ow- 
eth  a  homage  to  God,  and  so  doth  my  family.  When  do  I 
not  owe  it  1  And  when  doth  my  family  not  owe  it ;  so  that 
if  I  have  opportunity,  consi.stent  with  the  other  necessary 
occasions  of  human  life,  that  opportunity  should  not  be 
taken  V  And  whereas  religion,  and  so  family  religion, 
is  a  means  of  advantage  to  ourselves  and  them,  as  well  as 
a  homage  to  God;  when  can  it  be  said,  I  stand  in  no  need 
of  the  exercises  of  religion,  or  that  those  under  my  care 
do  not,  when  those  exercises  can  be  had  consistently  with 
the  other  necessary  occasions  of  human  life  1  These 
things  being  premonished, 

Secondly,  I  shall  now  offer  somewhat  by  way  of  deter- 
minaiion  of  the  propounded  case.     As, 

1.  Nothing  is  plainer,  than  that  the  exercises  of  family 
religion  ought  to  be  daily.  That  seems  out  of  all  question. 
Every  day  will  I  bless  thee,  Psalm  cxlv.  2.  A  synecdochi- 
cal  expression  of  religion  ;  and  that  cannot  be  understood 
for  any  reason  reaching  a  particular  person,  which  will 
not  reach  a  family  too.  And  so  the  same  thing  is  to  be 
said  to  that  in  Psalm  cxli.  2.  Let  my  prayer  be  set  before 
thee  as  incense;  (that  was  stated  solemn  prayer  ;)  and  the 
uplifting  of  ray  hands  as  the  evening  sacrifice.  That  is, 
every  evening  let  it  go  up  as  incense.  That  was  a  juge 
sacrificium,  a  daily  solemnity.  So  look  to  that  direction 
given  us  by  our  Lord,  to  pray  for  our  daihj  bread,  day  by 
day.  He  tieih  us  not  indeed  to  the  use  of  those  very 
words.  So  the  instruction  being  given  occasionally,  plainly 
enough  signifieth,  that  he  did  not  intend  this  direction  as 
a  form ;  but  that  he  directs  it  only  as  a  summary  or  a 
form  to  be  used  with  Christian  wisdom  and  understand- 
ing, in  enlarging  upon  the  particulars  contained  in  that 
prayer,  and  to  guide  and  direct  ourselves  thereby  in  our 
solemn  addresses  unto  God.  Though  also  the  use  of  these 
verj'-  words,  as  they  lie,  nobody  can  doubt  to  be  lawful ; 
yet,  that  they  are  enjoined,  and  so  made  necessar}'',  there 
is  little  reason  to  affirm.  But  however,  take  them  as  a 
general  direction  in  reference  unto  prayer;  they  signify 
that  the  things  to  be  prayed  for  are  to  be  daily  prayed  for. 
"  Give  us  this  day  our  daily  bread ;"  this  day.  At  the 
same  time,  when  we  pray  for  all  things  contained  in  that 
prayer,  we  are  to  pray  too  for  daily  bread.  And  that  this 
is  meant  of  social  prayer,  and  that  this  direction  is  given 
to  the  disciples  with  reference  to  their  praying  together,  to 
let  them  know  what  things  they  should  insist  upon  in 
prayer,  is  made  more  than  probable  by  the  form  of  speech. 
For,  when  our  Saviour  was  directing  secret  or  closet 
prayer.  Matt.  vi.  6.  then  he  saith,  TAom;  "  Thou,  when 
thou  prayest,  enter  into  thy  closet,  and  shut  thy  door,"  &c. 
But  when  he  cometh  to  give  this  direction  concerning 
prayer,  he  saith.  Ye.  He  speaks  to  them  in  the  plural 
number;  and  directs  them  to  speak  in  the  plural  number, 
"  Our  father,"  &c.  And  therefore,  that  it  was  social 
prayer,  about  which  he  giveth  this  direction;  the  prayer 
of  such  as  could  daily  pray  together  ;  that  seems  most  evi- 
dent ;  and  therefore  also  that  such  exercises  of  religion 
ought  to  be  daily. 

2.  Such  exercises  of  religion  ought  to  be  every  day 
more  than  once.  We  read  sometimes  of  thrice  in  a  day. 
Psalm.  Iv.  17.  Evening,  and  morning,  and  at  noon  I  will 
pray,  and  cry  aloud  ;  and  he  shall  hear  my  voice.  This 
in  all  likelihood  must  refer  too  to  family  prayer.  He  speaks 
of  crying  with  his  voice,  a  loud  voice.  And  so  the  be- 
fore-mentioned instance  of  Daniel,  which  seems  most 
likely  to  be  meant  of  family  religion,  the  prayer  or  reli- 
gion of  his  family,  was  with  him  thrice  a  day.  And  in- 
deed so  it  cannot  but  be  in  religious  families  ;  that  is,  that 
at  least  at  noon  there  will  be  solemn  invocation  of  God  in 
reference  to  the  use  of  his  creatures;  which,  the  apostle 
saiih,  "  are  good,  if  they  be  received  with  thanksgiving, 
but  they  are  sanctified  by  the  word  of  God  and  prayer,"  1 
Tim.  iv.  4,  5.  There  must  be  prayer  to  sanctify  the  crea- 
tures ;  or  else  they  are  unholy  things  to  you,  profane 
things.  It  is  unhallowed  m.eat  and  drink.    And  therefore, 


3.  I  doubt  not,  it  is  with  a  great  deal  of  reason,  and 
from  Scripture  light  too,  to  be  determined,  that  the  exer- 
cises of  religion  ought  to  be  steadily  twice  a  day,  that  is, 
with  greater  solemnity.  This  is  spoken  of  as  a  most 
comely  and  becoming  thing,  a  thing  that  carries  its  own 
greatness  along  with  it,  (Psalm  xcii.  1,  2.)  "  It  is  a  good 
thing  to  give  thanks  unto  the  Lord,  and  to  sing  praises  im- 
to  thy  name,  O  most  high  ;  (giving  of  thanks  being  one  es- 
sential part  of  prayer  ;)  to  show  forth  thy  loving-kindness 
in  the  morning,  and  thy  faithfulness  every  night."  There 
can  be  no  reason  assigned,  why  this  should  concern  one  par- 
ticular person,  more  than  why  it  should  concern  every  per- 
son ;  no  more,  why  it  should  concern  the  masterof  a  family 
alone,  than  those  under  his  care.  If  the  reason  of  the  thing 
extend  to  a  family  as  such,  the  thing  itself  ought  to  extend 
to  a  family  as  such.  That  is  with  serious  and  apprehen- 
sive minds  and  spirits  to  convene  and  meet  together,  to 
give  God  his  due  acknowledgment  for  his  loving-kind- 
ness every  morning,  and  his  faithfulness  every  night. 

And  you  see  how  the  Psalmist  represents  this  case  in 
Psalm  xlii.  8.  The  Lord  will  command  his  loving-kind- 
ness in  the  day-time,  and  in  the  night  his  song  shall  be 
with  me,  and  my  praj'^er  unto  the  God  of  my  life.  Observe, 
how  his  vu^Bfjjicfiat,  his  days  and  nights,  were  composed 
and  made  up,  by  the  continual  meeting  together  of  God's 
loving-kindness  and  of  his  prayer  and  song  every  day  and 
every  night,  morning  and  evening  ;  so  it  is  to  be  under- 
stood. "  Thy  loving-kindness  and  my  prayer  and  praise 
shall  meet  one  another.  So  shall  my  mornings  and  even- 
ings be  continually  made  up  of  that  grateful  contexture, 
of  mercy  and  loving-kindness  on  thy  part,  and  of  prayer 
and  praise  on  mine."  But  this  cannot  concern  a  particu- 
lar person  upon  any  reason,  but  upon  which  it  will  equally 
concern  his  family,  that  religious  exercises  should  be  there 
in  a  stated  and  continual  course. 

I  may  further  reason  this  matter  by  some  few  consider- 
ations. 

Suppose  any  will  admit,  (which  in  itself  is  sufficiently 
evident,)  that  it  is  a  very  reasonable  thing,  and  manifestly 
the  mind  of  God,  that  there  should  be  daily  exercises  of 
religion  in  our  families;  then  I  would  fain  know,  which 
should  be  excluded,  if  you  would  have  one  excluded  1 
The  Lord  saith,  morning  and  night ;  which  would  you 
have  excluded,  the  morning  or  the  evening  sacrifice  1 

Would  you  exclude  the  morning  exercise  of  religion  1 
Pray  how  dare  )'ou  think  of  that  1  Would  not  you  desire 
God's  blessing  on  your  family  this  day  1  Would  you  not 
have  the  labours  of  the  several  members  of  it  to  be  pros- 
pered and  succeeded  this  day  1  Ask  yourselves  seriously 
that  question ;  do  not  you  desire  a  blessing  should  descend 
this  morning  upon  your  family  as  such  1  Again,  do  not 
you  know,  that  this  world  is  a  place  of  snares  and  tempta- 
tions 1  How  dare  you  adventure  your  sons  and  daughters 
and  servants  into  the  world,  without  praying  down  a  bless- 
ing upon  thcrh,  beibre  they  go  forth  or  set  about  their  bu- 
siness 1  Suppose  a  disaster  should  happen,  suppose  a 
member  of  your  family  should  be  drawn  into  some  scan- 
dalous wickedness;  would  it  not  be  an  uncomfortable  re- 
flection, "  I  ventured  them  out  without  family  prayer;  see 
what  comes  of  it.  Here  is  a  blot  and  disgrace  brought 
upon  my  family  ;  was  not  this  owing  to  my  self-confi- 
dence, to  neglect  of  God  1  was  it  not,  because  I  was  con- 
tent to  let  mine  go  out  abroad  unblestl  I  forgot,  that  the 
world,  the  persons  or  things  that  they  might  have  to  do 
with,  were  all  full  of  snares  ;  this  was  not  considered  and 
taken  to  heart,  and  God  hath  let  such  a  blast  befall  me  or 
mine  upon  this  account." 

Or  would  you  omit  the  evening  exercise  of  religion  in 
your  family,  of  one  sort  and  another  1  How  can  you  think 
of  that "?  Do  you  need  none  to  watch  over  you  this  night  1 
Doth  not  your  house  need  a  better  keeper  than  you  can  be, 
especially  when  you  are  asleep ;  the  Keeper  of  Israel,  who 
neither  slumbereth  nor  sleepeth  1  When  we  dwell  in  the 
midst  of  continual  dangers,  as  we  have  so  frequent  expe- 
rience ;  when  some,  that  went  to  bed  possessed  of  comfort- 
able habitations,  are  unhoused  and  outed  of  all  by  the 
morning?  Is  it  not  pretended,  that  family  prayer  or  family 
religion  will  be  a  certain  protection  of  your  habitations 
from  such  disasters,  as  experience  hath  from  time  to  lime 
shown  ;  but  I  would  appeal  to  you  concerning  the  differ- 


Serm.  V. 


FAMILY  RELIGION  AND  WORSHIP. 


62t 


ence,  suppose  such  a  calamity  to  befall  a  religious  family, 
and  suppose  it  to  befall  an  impious  ungodly  lamily.  On 
ihe  one  hand,  "  My  family  hath  been  the  seat  of  religion  ; 
I  have  desired,  that  God  might  be  served  and  honoured 
there  ;  of  this  I  have  been  studious  to  the  uttermost."  How 
free  and  easy  is  the  way  of  acce.ss  to  God,  when  such  a 
person  is  not  affrighted  by  guilt,  and  the  horrors  of  an 
amazed  conscience  !  But  on  the  other  side,  to  be  forced  to 
say,  "  I  can  look  for  no  relief  from  God  in  this  case,  for  I 
have  neglected  him,  I  have  forsaken  him  and  banished 
him  my  house  and  habitation  ;  he  had  no  abode  or  dwell- 
ing with  me,  no  acknowledgment  or  worship  from  me  and 
mine."  What  will  this  issue  in  1  But  if  there  be  no  such 
bar  in  the  way  between  God  and  us  ;  "  Now  my  habitation 
is  consumed  and  turned  into  flames  and  ashes,  I  have  no 
dwelling;  but  thanks  be  to  God,  the  secret  of  the  Divine 
presence  lielh  open  to  me ;  I  can  go  to  him  and  say.  Lord, 
thou  hast  been  thy  people's  habitation  through  all  genera- 
tions. I  shall  never  be  destitute  of  a  dwelling,  as  long  a.s 
I  have  such  a  God  to  go  to,  and  may  solace  myself  in  his 
love."  For  he  that  dwelleth  in  love,  dwelleth  in  God,  and 
God  in  him.  How  unsolicitous  will  that  heart  be,  that 
finds  itself  possessed  of  a  dwelling  in  the  Divine  love  I 
That  love  will  carry  through  all  the  straits  and  difficulties 
of  time,  and  provide  richly  for  us  in  an  immense  eternity 
that  shall  ensue.  This  makes  a  vast  difference  betwixt 
one  that  serveth  the  Lord  and  one  that  serveth  him  not. 

Further ;  How  are  we  directed  by  the  course  of  nature 
itself?  Do  you  think  that  those  diurnal  alternations  of  day 
and  night  carry  no  signification  with  them  to  an  intelligent 
sort  of  creatures  1  When  it  is  so  inculcated  to  us  in  Scrip- 
ture, what  sacred  things  those  ordinances  of  day  and  night 
are,  and  the  statedness  of  their  succession  to  one  another  ; 
what  can  this  intend,  but  to  give  us  a  measure  as  to  the 
exercises  of  religion  ?  Why  else  should  this  be  so  much 
insisted  on,  and  we  be  called  to  fix  our  eye  and  take  more 
special  notice  of  those  two  great  luminaries  in  this  world 
of  ours,  "the  sun  that  rules  b}'  day,  and  the  moon  that 
rules  by  night  V  We  are  taught  by  nature  itself  to  shape 
our  other  afiairs  accordingly.  "  Thou  makest  darkness, 
and  it  is  night : — The  sun  ariseth ; — Man  goeth  forth  to  his 
work  and  to  his  labour,  until  the  evening,"  Psalm  civ.  20, 
22,  23.  May  he  indeed  do  so,  and  shall  he  not  take  God 
along  with  him  1  And  when  the  return  of  night  calls  him 
back  from  his  affairs,  ought  he  not  then  to  be  put  in  mind, 
who  must  be  his  keeper  while  he  slumbers  and  sleeps, 
even  that  Keeper  that  never  slumbers  nor  sleeps  1 

That  it  might  be  more  expressly  signified  unto  us,  how 
nature  may  and  should  be  a  measure  unto  us  of  religion, 
as  to  this  thing ;  do  but  take  notice  of  that  passage  in 
Amos  V.  8.  Seek  him  (though  these  words,  "  seek  him," 
are  not  in  the  Hebrew  text  in  this  verse,  yet  they  are  in  the 
words  but  a  little  before,  in  several  verses,  and  it  is  plain 
ought  to  be  repeated  or  understood  here,  as  the  sense  itself 
dictateth:)  "Seek  ye  me,  and  ye  shall  live.  Seek  not 
Bethel,  nor  enter  into  Gilgal,  and  pass  not  lo  Beersheba. 
Seek  the  Lord,  and  ye  shall  live.  Seek  him  that  made  the 
seven  stars  and  Orion,  and  turneth  the  shadow  of  death 
into  the  morning,  and  maketh  the  day  dark  with  night," 
&c.  Seek  him  that  doth  so  and  so  ;  Avhat  is  the  meaning 
of  that  1  Seek  him,  because  he  doth  so  and  so;  seek  him 
under  that  notion,  as  it  is  he  that  maketh  the  day  dark 
with  night,  and  turneth  the  shadow  of  death  into  the  morn- 
ing. What  stupid,  insensible  creatures  shall  we  be,  if  so 
wonderful  a  change  doth  not  instruct  us  !  If  such  a 
change  were  not  common,  it  would  be  a  subject  of  the 
greatest  wonder  to  us.  But  that  is  the  infirmity  uf  our 
minds,  that  great  things  are  little  regarded,  because  they 
are  common.  That  there  should  be  that  steady  course 
kept  in  nature,  as  to  make  so  vast  a  change  in  the  world 
within  the  space  of  twenty-four  hours,  as  the  vicissitudes 
of  day  and  night,  of  light  and  darkness;  that  we  should 
have  the  brightness  of  an  orient  sun  illustrating  our  hemi- 
sphere, and  that  within  so  man)'  hours  it  is  gone,  and  the 
shadow  of  death  covers  it ;  certainly  this  should  set  all 
religious  minds  upon  adoring  that  Author  of  nature,  that 
doth  this  in  so  steady  a  course,  and  in  a  way  so  un.^peak- 
ably  above  all  human  conception,  and  which  makes  so 
many  indeterminable  controversies  and  disputes  among  the 

•  Preached  Jannary  Hll),  16W. 


wisest  philosophers,  that  are  never  like  to  be  decided  as 
long  as  this  world  lasts;  particularly  whether  it  be  the 
earth  that  successively  moves  to  the  sun,  or  whether  it  be 
the  sun  that  is  whirled  about  the  earth.  The  latter  of  these 
is  so  unapprehensible  a  thing,  that  the  sun  should  run  so 
vast  a  circle  in  so  little  a  space  of  lime,  that  it  hath  made 
many  very  considering  men  more  to  incline  to  the  other 
opinion.  But  that  we  should  be  compa.ssed  about  daily, 
once  in  twenty-four  hours,  with  the  strange  vicissitudes  of 
day  and  night,  and  not  Ije  disposed  thereupon  to  adoration, 
is  a  most  unaccouniable  thing;  and  will  .speak  the  inha- 
bitants of  this  earth  to  be  as  stupid,  as  the  earth  on  which 
they  dwell. 

But  the  idolatry  of  pagans  will  be  a  testimony  against 
Christians,  if  it  should  be  .so.  What  tempted  ihern  to  that 
idulatrous  notion  of  worshipping  the  sun  and  moon,  but 
that  they  thought  them  to  be  a  sort  of  deities,  from  whom 
they  received  such  a  continual  course  of  favours,  that  they 
thought  they  did  owe  continual  adoration  to  them  there- 
upon 1  If  they  falsely  thought  so,  how  truly  and  justly 
should  we  do  what  they  have  thought,  if  we  reckon  ilial 
the  God  of  heaven  and  earth,  of  sim  and  moon,  and  of  the 
whole  creation,  doth  in  such  wisdom  and  in  such  kind- 
ness and  benignity  to  us  provide,  that  there  should  be  so 
necessary  an  alternation,  as  this  of  light  and  darkness  in 
so  continued  a  course  ! 

What  then  doth  this  require  and  call  for  from  us?  To 
seek  the  Lord  upon  this  account,  the  Lord  that  maketh  the 
day  dark  with  night,  and  that  turneth  the  shadow  of  death 
into  the  morning.  He  doth  even  impose  upon  as  those 
daily  acknowledgments  and  acts  of  worship  morning  and 
evening,  by  the  very  course  and  current  of  nature  itstlf,  as 
he  is  the  Author  and  God  of  nature.  And  wonder  not, 
that  the  light  and  law  of  nature  is  so  often  appealed  unio 
in  this  case.  It  is  what  we  find  the  apostle  does  in  a  mat- 
ter of  far  less  import,  than  this  that  is  now  before  us  ;  when 
he  speaks  about  the  business  of  hair,  1  Cor.  xi.  14.  Surely 
we  are  to  act  according  to  the  unerring  plain  dictates  of 
nature,  in  so  great  and  important  a  matter  as  this  Ls,  much 
more. 

I  might  further  add  upon  all  this  that  general  precept, 
Phil.  iv.  8.  "  Whatsoever  things  are  honest,  comelii,  what- 
soever things  are  lovely,  of  good  report,  think  on  these 
things."  What  a  lovely  thing  is  a  praying,  orderly  family  ! 
a  family,  where  religion  is  kept  up  in  a  stated  course,  so  as 
that  that  course  is  a^  constant  as  the  course  of  daj-  and 
night!  It  is  not  left  to  us  as  a  mere  arbitrary  thing,  whe- 
ther we  will  do  things  lovely,  comely,  honest,  and  of  good 
report,  yea  or  no;  but  as  a  necessary  thing,  founded  upon 
necessary  reasons.  And  therefore  to  be  unconcerned  and 
indifferent,  whether  those  of  our  family  (if  we  have  fami- 
lies) do  things  so  necessary,  or  not,  is  a  contradiction  in 
terms  ;  for  it  is  to  say,  that  which  is  necessary  is  not  ne- 
cessary;  or,  it  is  an  indifferent  thing,  whether  that  which 
is  necessary  be  done  or  not  done. 


SERMON   V.' 


Having  endeavoured  to  evince  to  you,  that  there  ought 
to  be  such  a  thing  as  family  religion;  and  then  to  show 
you,  what  we  weie  to  conceive  and  practice,  a-s  to  the  fre- 
quency of  the  exerci.ses  of  it,  or  when  and  at  what  times  it 
ought  to  be  performed  ;  I  would  further  speak  to  a  q^ifsiion 
or  two  relating  to  this  matter,  and  answer  one  or  two 
objections,  and  so  shut  up  all  with  some  Use. 

There  are  some  questions  that  occur,  which  may  require 
some  consideration. 

Cluestion  I.  Some  have  desired  tobe  informed.  "Whether 
in  case  of  the  absence  or  sickness  of  a  husband  from  or  in 
the  familv,  it  be  incumbent  on  the  wife  to  keep  up  family 
duty  in  such  a  case  V'  And  the  case  is  the  same  a^  to 
widows,  or  others  of  that  sex,  who  are  sole  governesses  of 
families. 

Answer.     It  must  be  said  in  general  to  this,  that  one 


622 


THE  OBLIGATIONS  TO 


Skrm.  V. 


rule  cannot  be  suited  to  all  cases.  There  maybe  very  great 
variet}^,  as  circumstances  differ.     But, 

1.  Nothing  is  plainer,  than  that  while  the  conjugal  re- 
latives remain,  the  female  relation  hath  a  real  part  in  the 
government  of  the  family.  That  is  plainly  enough  a.sserted 
in  I  Tim.  v.  14.  that  it  is  the  woman's  part  to  "guide  the 
house."  The  word  is  otKoicoTroTciv,  to  have  a  despolical  power 
in  the  family,  a  governing  power  ;  which  must  be  solely 
in  her  in  the  absence  or  failure  of  the  other  relative ;  and 
that  must  by  no  means  be  abandoned  or  quitted.  And 
whereas  all  power  and  all  order  is  from  God,  it  cannot  be 
denied  or  disowned  or  laid  aside  without  an  injury  to 
him. 

2.  Hereupon,  if  there  be  in  a  family  a  prudent  pious  son, 
or  a  prudent  pious  man-servant,  who  may  be  assigned  to 
this  work  ;  it  may  fitly  enough  be  done  by  such  a  one  by 
her  appointment.  And  so  the  authority  that  belongs  to  her 
in  her  station,  is  preserved,  and  the  thing  done.  That  such 
a  work  as  that  is  may  be  assigned  to  another,  is  out  of  all 
doubt,  and  ought  to  be  so,  where  it  may  most  fitly  and  most 
duly  be  so.  And  none  question  the  fitness  of  assigning 
such  a  work  statedly  to  another,  in  such  families  where  per- 
sons are  kept  on  purpo.se  for  the  discharge  of  family  duties. 

3.  It  is  po.s.sible,  there  may  be  families,  that  do  entirely 
at  present  consist  of  those  that  are  of  the  female  sex;  and 
concerning  them  there  is  no  question. 

4.  Where  the  family  is  more  numerous,  and  consists  of 
the  male  sex,  of  whom  none  are  fit  or  willing  to  undertake 
that  business,  and  it  cannot  be  done  by  the  governess  with 
decency  or  to  edification  ;  in  that  case  she  is  to  follow  the 
example  of  Esther,  (a  very  laudable  one.)  with  her  maid- 
ens and  younger  children  still  to  keep  up  to  this  worship 
in  her  family ;  and,  as  much  as  in  her  lies,  to  warn  and 
charge  the  rest,  that  they  be  not  omi.ssive  for  their  part, 
(though  they  do  not  concur  with  them,)  together  or  .seve- 
rally in  calling  on  the  name  of  the  Lord  daily. 

Cluestion  II.  A  second  question  that  occurs  in  this  ca.se, 
is,  "  Whether,  where  there  is  no  competent  ability  to  per- 
form such  a  duty,  as  that  of  family  prayer,  with  decency 
and  edifyingness,  it  be  fit  to  make  use  of  helps,  the  pre- 
conceived words  of  others'?" 

Answer.  As  to  that  the  matter  seems  to  me  so  plain, 
that  we  need  make  no  long  discourse  about  it.  I  make  no 
question  at  all,  but  that  the  substance  of  every  duty  is  to 
take  place  of  circumstance.  It  is  better  that  the  duty  be 
done,  than  that  upon  the  account  of  a  mere  circumstance  it 
should  be  omitted  and  let  alone.  And  there  are  useful 
helps,  such  as  "  The  Practice  of  Piety,"  and  other  good 
books  contain  in  them,  which  may  fitly  be  made  use  of  for 
that  purpose  ;  provided  that  they  be  not  rested  in,  or  that 
there  be  not  a  design  of  taking  up  there. 

But  persons  in  that  case  are  more  to  study  the  Scrip- 
tures, the  excellencies  and  attributes  of  the  Divine  nature, 
the  natures  and  office.^  of  Christ;  to  acquaint  themselves 
with  the  particular  office  of  the  Holy  Gho.st,  as  he  is  the 
Spirit  of  grace  and  supplication;  and  to  study  their  own 
hearts  more,  and  to  consider  what  are  their  true  necessi- 
ties. And  in  time,  if  people  do  conscientiously  lalour  to 
make  themselves  acquainted  with  these  things,  and  espe- 
cially to  get  a  sense  upon  their  own  hearts  of  their  own 
true  and  great  spiritual  necessities  ;  that  will  easily  furnish 
them  with  matter,  and  matter  will  dictate  words.  Every 
one  can  tell,  how  eloquent  necessity  is  wont  to  make  beg- 
gars, that  are  pinched  with  want  and  hunger ;  they  do  not 
use  to  want  words  to  represent  their  case.  And  for  a  more 
special  help  in  this  matter,  if  any  such  as  make  it  a  matter 
of  doubt,  would  but  allow  themselves  the  leisure  and  give 
themselves  the  trouble,  (but  shall  any  call  it  a  trouble'? 
they  would  not  account  it  so,  if  they  did  the  thing,)  to 
peruse  Bishop  Wilkin's  treatise  about  "  The  Gift  of 
Prayer ;"  they  would  there  see,  not  only  what  the  judg- 
ment of  so  great  a  man  was,  concerning  the  best  and  most 
eligible  way  of  managing  our  addresses  to  God  in  prayer; 
but  how  also  an  ability  may  be  obtained  through  the  grace 
and  blessing  of  God,  ior  applying  ourselves  in  the  name' 
and  on  the  behalf  of  others  to  God  in  prayer. 

But  there  is  yet  an  objection  or  two,  that  needs  to  be 
considered. 

Objection  I.  Some  will  say  perhaps,  "  That  they  want 
time,  and  that  their  necessary  secular  affairs  cannot  admit 


of  time  for  a  stated  course  of  family  wor.-^hip,  morning  and 
evening."  As  there  can  be  no  reason,  as  you  have  heard, 
alleged  for  the  one  of  these  times,  that  will  not  be  as 
weighty  for  the  other. 

Answer.     To  this  I  have  several  things  to  say. 

1.  It  would  be  a  very  great  piece  of  justice,  if  such,  as 
are  wont  to  object,  would  but  represent  the  case  as  truly 
it  is  ;  that  is,  that  they  would  rather  say,  they  want  hearts 
than  that  they  want  time.  Undoubtedly,  where  there  is  a 
bent  of  heart  right  set  in  this  matter,  time  will  be  found  ; 
it  will  not  be  a  difficulty  to  find  it. 

2.  I  would  fain  know  of  such,  why  they  do  not  object 
too,  that  they  cannot  find  time  to  have  solemn  meals  in 
their  families,  set  meals;  that  they  cannot  find  lime  for 
eating  or  drinking,  no,  nor  for  sleeping.  But  are  these 
things  more  necessary  than  religion"?  What  is  become  of 
their  understanding  ■?  How  forlorn  an  understanding  is 
that  grown,  that  can  apprehend  a  necessity  for  set  and  ap- 
pointed seasons  for  repa.st  and  the  repairing  of  natural  de- 
cays, and  cannot  apprehend  a  necessity  of  constant  family 
religion,  or  seem  to  think  of  that  as  a  matter  less  necessary ! 
Will  they  pretend  to  believe,  that  they  have  souls,  immor- 
tal spirits  about  them;  and  that  an  immortal  mind  or 
.spirit  is  a  more  valuable  thing  than  a  clod  of  clay  "?  Do 
we  need  to  maiie  speeches  to  Christians  or  to  men  for  such 
purposes  as  the.>e  1     Therefore  I  add  again, 

3.  It  is  very  true,  that  nothing  is  at  that  time  necessary, 
when  somewhat  inconsistent  therewith  is  truly  necessary. 
That  is  a  concession,  that  must  be  stated  and  established, 
for  it  cannot  be  shaken.  And  therefore  we  are  to  lake  our 
measures,  not  against  it,  but  by  it,  and  according  to  it. 
For  in  morality  it  is  impossible  that  necessaries  should  be 
repugnant  one  to  another,  any  more  than  that  truths  can  ; 
that  one  duty  to  be  practised  should  be  contrary  to  another 
duty,  than  that  one  truth  to  be  believed  should  be  contrary 
to  another  truth.  They  are  all  of  a  family,  of  a  kind  and 
alliance,  and  very  easily  reconcilable  with  one  another. 
But  as  we  formerly  had  occasion  to  mind  you,  so  I  must 
remind  you,  that  it  is  the  good  man's  character,  that  he 
"orders  his  affairs  with  discretion."  If  men  will  do  this, 
they  will  then  find  out  ways  and  methods,  how  to  reconcile 
their  important  necessary  affairs  with  one  another. 

There  are  cases,  wherein  even  a  religious  duly  itself 
must  yield  and  give  place  to  other  necessary  occurrences. 
It  may  not  only  in  some  cases  be  lawful,  but  a  duty,  to  in- 
termit the  course  of  family  duty  in  the  ordinary  season 
thereof.  As,  suppose  a  person  be  taken  with  a  sudden,  sur- 
prising fit,  that  endangers  life,  and  requires  the  pre.><ent 
attendance  of  all  the  house ;  or  suppose  my  house  be  on 
fire,  or  my  neighbour's  house.  The  strict  observance  of 
the  religion  of  the  sabbath-day  was  among  the  Jews  dis- 
pensed with  upon  a  less  occasion,  when  there  was  but  an 
ox  or  a  sheep  to  be  pulled  out  of  a  ditch. 

But  if  any  will  pretend  such  necessary  occasions  to  be 
constant,  then  the  pretence  overthrows  itself;  that  they 
must  constantly  or  in  an  ordinary  course  exclude  religion 
out  of  their  families  upon  account  of  their  constant  or  or- 
dinary secular  business.  If  this  be  pretended,  the  very 
pretence  showeth  it  to  be  a  false  necessitj',  or  the  false  pre- 
tence of  a  necessity;  and  so  is  a  pretence,  that  doth  over- 
throw itself  even  in  the  allegation.  This  is  none  of  those 
cases,  to  which  that  great  maxim  is  applicable,  that  "God 
will  have  mercy  and  not  sacrifice."  Such  cases  there  are  ; 
but  these  cannot  be  constant :  for  then  there  could  be  no 
such  thing  as  sacrifice  ;  that  is,  religion  upon  these  terms 
must  quite  be  thrown  out  of  doors  and  out  of  the  world. 

4.  I  would  appeal  to  yourselves,  or  to  ordinary  observa- 
tion, whether  it  be  not  evident  that  there  are  many  in- 
stances in  former  and  latter  time,  that  make  it  manifest  that 
there  maybe  diligence  in  a  calling,  and  great  success  upon 
such  diligence;  and  yet  no  exclusion  of  family  religion, 
but  that  kept  up  in  great  constancy  and  order  1  I  believe 
you,  or  mostof  yoUj  can  instance  in  many  such  observable 
cases.  And  if  I  shotild  instance  them  to  you,  many  of  you 
would  upon  knowledge  consent  and  concur  with  me. 

I  doubt  not,  but  that  many  of  you  have  seen  the  Life  of  that 
famous  man  Mr.  Ignatius  Jordan,  who  fifty  or  sixty  years 
aa:o  was  a  magistrate  and  sometimes  mayor  of  the  noted  city 
of  Exeter.  I  mention  him  because,  besides  his  extant  Life,  I 
have  had  opportunities  to  converse  with  seme,  that  lived  a 


Sehm.  V. 


FAMILY  RELIGION  AND  WORSHIP. 


r,23 


considerable  time  in  his  family  ;  and  who  did  assure  me, 
that  his  daily  course  was  to  s^o  to  bed  early,  and  to  take 
care  that  his  family  should  do  so  too.  Then  generally  he 
was  up  first  of  all  the  house;  usually  at  four  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  both  winter  and  summer.  Two  hours  he  com- 
monly spent  alone  in  his  secret  devotions.  About  si.x 
o'clock,  it  was  his  .usual  way  to  call  his  family  together, 
\nd  to  spend  a  considerable  time  in  the  serious  exercises 
of  religion  among  them  :  and  so  all  went  with  great  order 
about  their  several  afi'airs  and  businesses  about  seven. 
A  very  signal  instance  of  the  easy  reconcileableness  (by  the 
use  of  discretion  and  prudence)  of  religion  with  secular 
business !  And  an  instance  too,  how  discernible  a  blessing 
did  ensue  and  follow  upon  all ;  so  as  to  leave  it  no  matter 
of  objection  against  religion,  that  it  must  impoverish  the 
families  into  which  it  comes. 

Nor  should  I  doubt  the  concurrence  of  more  of  you,  if 
I  should  instance  in  the  known  conduct  of  alderman  Ash- 
arst."  I  have  had  opportunity  myself  to  know  much  of 
the  order  of  his  family  in  this  respect,  as  to  the  daily  ex- 
ercises of  religion  in  it.  And  I  think  his  posterity  left 
behind  are  a  sufficient  proof  to  you,  that  religion  doth  not 
beggar  a  family. 

I  mention  these  instances,  not  as  if  I  thought  an  opulent 
condition  in  the  world  to  be  any  considerable  part  of  the 
reward  of  religion,  or  any  constant  reward  of  it.  That 
were  to  dishonour  religion,  to  think  that  we  should  need 
to  mention  so  mean  a  thing,  as  outward  and  worldly  pros- 
perity, wealth  and  riches,  as  the  recompense  and  reward 
of  religion.  There  are  much  greater  things  to  be  men- 
tioned, the  secret  blessing  of  God  upon  a  man's  spirit ;  the 
hoped  blessing,  that  may  descend  upon  one's  relatives:  the 
peace,  that  a  man  shall  have  in  his  own  bosom,  from  the 
consideration  of  his  not  having  the  blood  of  souls  on  his 
head,  the  blood  of  children,  and  the  blood  of  servants,  for 
not  having  taken  care  of  their  souls:  the  instinctive  good 
remembrance,  that  such  a  one  will  leave  behind  him ; 
which  may  be  of  use  to  others,  when  he  is  dead  and  gone : 
the  glory  that  he  brings  to  God  :  the  eternal  recompenses 
that  sincere  religion  will  find  at  the  last :  the  present 
pleasure  and  satisfaction,  that  a  man  will  have,  while  he 
survives,  where  God  blesseth  his  endeavours ;  and  where 
he  can  see  godly  children  springing  up  under  the  influence 
of  godliness  practised  and  kept  up  in  the  family ;  or  a  godly 
servant  becoming  or  made  such  under  his  eye,  though  it 
was  not  always  so  ;  it  may  be,  he  may  see  such  a  child  or 
servant  gone  out  of  his  family,  and  planting  other  families. 
What  a  comfort  is  it  to  the  heart  of  a  man  in  such  a  case, 
to  see  the  godly,  praj'ing  parent  and  master  of  such  an- 
other famil}^ ;  who  must  say,  he  carried  his  religion  out 
of  my  family,  and  that  God  blessed  the  worship  and  reli- 
gion of  my  house  so  to  season  his  spirit,  that  I  can  reckon 
such  or  such  a  religious  family  springing  out  of  mine  ! 
What  a  comfort  is  this  ! 

But  what  I  speak  of  worldly  emolument,  (as  sometimes 
by  the  especial  blessing  of  God  a  consequent,  though  not  a 
necessary  or  constant  consequent  of  family  religion,)  hath 
this  further  design — That  if  this  be  the  case  with  any  of 
you,  that  3''ou  are  descended  of  godly  parents,  and  sprung 
out  of  families  where  religion  was  kept  up,  and  there  is  a 
blessing  descended  upon  you  in  inward  respects  also  ;  if 
God  hath  enlarged  your  portion  as  to  the  things  of  this  life, 
and  with  that  blessing  hath  blessed  you  indeed  ;  then  I 
reckon  the  mention  of  such  instances  may  be  useful  to 
such  a~  V  ju  in  this  respect ;  that  you  may  take  encourage- 
ment and  understand  your  engagement  from  thence  to  keep 
up  the  religion  which  you  find  hath  not  been  a  useless  dis- 
advantageous thing  to  your  famil}-. — Religion  hath  not 
dishonoured  your  families,  nor  you  :  do  not  you  dishonour 
it ;  be  not  ashamed  of  the  religion  of  your  fathers,  who 
have  gone  before  you  in  this  way  and  course.  In  the  last 
place,  as  to  the  objection  of  want  of  lime,  I  would  add,  that, 

5.  It  ought  deeply  to  be  considered,  whether  more  time 
might  not  be  redeemed,  not  only  from  such  occasions  a.s 
are  in  a  degree  necessary,  but  from  such  as  are  altogether 
unnecessary ;  and  this  without  any  prejudice  to  health  1 
Where  such  an  allegation  is  used  and  stood  upon,  ceriaitily 
one  half  hour  without  any  great  prejudice  might  be  gained 

a  The  father  of  Sir  Henry  Asliurst,  Bart,  and  of  Sir  Wilham  Ashursf,  Kiit. 
Lord  Mayor  of  London  in  1693,  when  these  sermons  were  preached. 


from  sleep  by  rising  so  much  the  earlier  in  the  morning. 
But  as  that  rnay  be  said  to  be  a  gaming  and  sparing  of 
time  from  that  which  is  necessary,  how  much  more  may 
be  gained  from  that  which  is  unnecessary  1  And  about 
that  I  must  appeal  to  yourselves.  I  know  not  other  people's 
circumstances,  but  every  one  is  supposed  to  know  his  own : 
and  so  yourselves  know,  whether  some  lime  might  not  he 
spared  from  the  coflise-house,  or  from  unsea.v.nable  vigils, 
at  that  hour  of  the  day  that  would  be  mo.st  fit  for  the  reli- 
gion and  worship  of  your  family.  I  can  but  appeal  to 
yourselves,  whether  it  maj'^  not  be  so. 

I  know,  it  may  possibly  be  alleged  in  a  particular  ca.se, 
if  it  be  asked,  "  Why  were  you  not  at  a  more  seasonable 
hour  about  the  exerci.ses  of  religion  in  your  family?" 
Why,  "  I  was  obliged  to  observe  such  an  appointment  with 
such  a  one  about  business  in  a  coffee-house  or  a  tavern." 
But  I  would  inquire ;  Is  it  necessary,  that  this  mu.st  be  con- 
stantly so,  or  more  ordinarily  so  "?  Or  can  it  not  be  pro- 
vided, that  such  meetings  might  be  at  more  seasonable 
hours,  so  as  not  to  exclude  family  duty  in  its  proper  sea- 
son ;  that  is,  to  occasion  it  either  to  be  quite  laid  a.^ide,  or 
(w'hich  may  be  as  culpable)  to  be  deferred  to  so  late  an 
hour  of  the  day  or  night,  (for  the  greatest  danger  of  this 
kind  is  in  the  evening,)  till  every  one  naturally  is  more 
disposed  to  sleep,  than  to  prayer,  or  to  hear  God's  word 
read  or  opened  to  them  1  Might  it  not  be  managed  other- 
wise 1  And  then  may  I  not  appeal  to  you,  whether  this  be 
not  an  affront  to  the  majesty  of  God  1  According  to  ibal 
which  is  urged  by  the  prophet  Malachi,  (ch.  i.  13.)  "When 
ye  bring  that  which  was  torn,  and  the  lame  and  the  sick  lor 
an  offering,  should  I  accept  this  at  your  hand  I  saiih  the 
Lord."  Or,  as  in  ver.  8.  "  is  not  such  a  sacrifice  evil  ? 
Oflfer  it  now  unto  thy  governor;  will  he  be  pleased  with 
thee  1"  It  is  to  offer  God  an  afliont,  instead  of  a  sacrifice ; 
the  worship  of  a  carcase,  instead  of  a  living  sacrifice  or 
service.  It  speaks  your  contempt  of  the  Divine  Maje>iy, 
when  you  dare  ordinarily  presume  to  do  so;  insltad  of  thin 
reverence  which  ought  to  animate  all  your  worship. 

And  therefore  about  this,  no  other  coiiise  can  be  taken 
by  one  who  shall  preach  to  you  upon  such  an  occasion,  1  lit 
only  to  leave  you  to  serious  communing  about  this  mailer 
between  God  and  your  own  souls.  Bring  the  case  before 
him,  and  consider  your  rule,  and  consider  your  judge ;  for 
you  are  not  to  be  final  judges,  nor  are  you  to  judse  arbi- 
tarily  in  a  subordinate  way,  but  by  rule. 

Consider,  I  say,  the  rules  you  are  to  judge  by,  what  such 
laws  as  these  lay  upon  us.  Whatsoever  we  do,  ^^e  are  to 
do  all  to  the  glory  of  God,  1  Cor.  x.  31.  Can  you  go  to 
God  ill  this  case,  and  say,  "  Lord,  I  appeal  to  thee,  who 
knowest  all  things,  whether  I  was  not  about  business  at 
the  coffee-house  or  tavern,  which  did  more  lend  to  elurily 
thee,  than  inspecting  my  family  would  then  have  done  ; 
than  reading  out  of  thy  holy  word  or  calling  upon  thy 
name  would  then  have  done." 

We  are  required  to  do  all  that  we  do  in  the  name  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  Col.  iii.  17.  A  most  awful  ihoucht 
that !  This  is  to  run  through  our  lives,  to  do  all  we  do  in 
the  name  of  our  Lord  Jesus.  Nor  is  it  an  unreasonable 
thing,  that  this  law  should  he  laid  upon  us.  For  by  whose 
vouchsafement  and  procurement  is  it,  that  we  have  a 
being  in  this  world  ?  It  is  '■  by  him  that  all  things  consist." 
This  world,  if  it  had  not  been  for  him,  would  have  been 
pulled  in  pieces  about  the  cars  of  its  inhabitants  many  a 
year  ago.  It  was  said  concerning  Joseph,  exalted  in  ihat 
high  trust  in  Egypt  ;  and  it  was  said  to  him  by  the  prince 
upon  the  throne,  "  Without  thee  shall  no  man  lift  up  bis 
hand  or  his  foot  in  all  the  land  of  Egypt,"  Gen.  xli.  4-1.  If 
God  say  so  concerning  him,  of  whom  that  Joseph  was  but 
a  type,  our  glorious  blessed  Lord  :  "  The  creation  is  giv«^ 
to  thee,  it  might  have  been  all  made  'o  vanish  into  nothing 
long  ago,  but"  it  is  now  devolved  into  ihy  hands;  be  thou 
absobUe  arbiter  of  lii'c  and  death,  and  of  all  concernments 
to  ihis  whole  creation  ;  all  power  is  given  to  thee  in  heavm 
:ind  in  earih  :"  ihis  being  the  slate  of  the  case,  it  is  not  an 
unreasonable  law  that  I  now  mention,  iha:  what.«;oever  ye 
do  in  word  or  deed,  ye  should  do  all  in  the  name  of  Ch'  ist , 
vou  have  nothing  to  do  in  this  world,  but  in  hi.^  name. 
Now  can  you  go  by  this  rule,  and  say,  "  Lord,  it  was  in 


624 


THE  OBLIGATIONS  TO 


Serm.  VI. 


the  name  of  Jesus  Christ,  that  I  thought  myself  more 
concerned  to  mind  such  and  such  business  at  a  public 
house  at  such  an  hour  in  the  evening,  rather  than  the  one 
business  of  my  family  in  the  exercises  of  religion ;  rather 
than  in  reasoning,  and  in  opening  and  urging  the  Scrip- 
tures to  them,  and  calling  on  thy  name  with  them  1"  Let 
these  things  be  considered  in  the  fear  of  God ;  and  not  like 
persons  that  mean  to  trifle  in  matters,  wherein  God  will 
not  trifle  with  us  one  day.  I  need  to  do  no  more,  than  to 
leave  such  cases  to  a  communing  between  God  and  your 
own  souls.  If  you  will  let  the  matter  be  heard  there,  it 
will  bring  the  case  before  God,  and  the  appeal  will  be 
made  to  him  about  it.  But  if  you  will  judge  the  matter 
without  hearing,  and  as  the  sole  judges,  when  you  are  no 
way  so  but  in  subordination  ;  if  you  will  have  it  deter- 
mined finally  by  an  improper  judgment,  without  debate, 
without  examining  the  mailer  pro  and  con:  this  argueth  a 
bad  cause  and  a  guilty  conscience;  when  you  dare  not  try 
the  matter  between  God  and  your  own  souls ;  and  dare  not 
to  see  how  it  will  go  there,  when  there  is  none  to  audit 
the  account  but  He  and  you. 

I  would  fain  have  you  consider  the  matter  in  this  light 
day  by  day  in  such  cases  ;  that,  when  you  go  to  take  your 
rest  at  night,  you  may  lie  down  and  sleep  in  peace;  not 
because  you  do  not  consider  the  state  of  your  case,  whether 
you  have  done  your  duty  or  not ;  but  because  you  have  ; 
and  so  can  appeal  to  God  about  it,  that  you  have  done  ac- 
cording to  the  obligations  of  the  Christian  law,  lying 
upon  you  in  reference  to  yourself  and  in  reference  to 
yours. 

Objection  II.  Some  may  say,  "  It  is  true  they  begin  to 
apprehend  and  admit  a  conviction,  that  it  is  very  reason- 
able and  fit,  there  should  be  religion  in  families,  even  as 
such ;  but  they  know  not  how  to  master  the  great  difficulty 
of  heginningy  It  hath  been  hitherto  an  unwonted  thing 
with  them  ;  and  if  the  truth  of  the  matter  should  be  con- 
fessed, it  would  be  plainly  this,  that  they  are  ashamed  to 
be  taken  notice  of  by  their  relatives  and  dependants,  as 
those  who  have  admitted  a  conviction  that  they  have  been 
hitherto  in  the  wrong.  They  think  it  will  be  an  owning 
if  a  sort  of  guilt  in  their  omi.ssion  hitherto,  when  they 
shall  set  this  on  foot  as  a  new  course. 

Answer.  But  methinks  the  providence  of  God  hath 
mighty  opportunely  provided  you  an  answer  against  this 
objection,  if  it  hath  any  place  in  the  minds  of  any ;  by 
ordering  the  matter  so,  that  the  duty  should  be  recom- 
mended so  unanimously  at  the  same  time  by  so  great  a 
body  of  the  ministry,  that  in  many  considerable  congrega- 
tions in  this  city  this  subject  of  family  religion  hath  newly 
been  insisted  on  at  once.  Is  it  a  shame  to  hearken  to  the 
voice  of  instructors,  so  instructed  (as  we  may  believe)  of 
God,  as  unitedly  to  give  a  kind  oi  cclcvsma,  lo  cry,  "  Come 
let  us  all  at  once  see  what  can  be  done  to  beat  down  the 
erowing  irreligion  and  profaneness  of  the  age,  and  to  re- 
vive languishing  religion,  and  to  cause  it  to  spring  up 
afresh  in  families !" 

Oh  what  a  comely,  lovely  example  was  London  to  the 
rest  of  the  Christian  world,  when  religion  and  the  order 
of  families  was  more  generally  kept  up  in  it !  Such  a  lus- 
tre in  this  respect  did  haidly  shine  upon  any  spot  on  earth, 
as  did  upon  this  city.  And  when  there  is  so  common  a 
cry  only  to  revive  a  former  practice,  should  it  be  a  shame 
to  hearken  to  it  1 

We  are  indeed  to  take  all  heed  imaginable,  that  this 
may  not  degenerate  into  a  dead  or  sleepy  formality.  It  is 
no  necessary  consequence,  that  it  should  do  so.  It  is  not 
the  design,  either  of  the  Scripture  precept,  or  of  them  that 
enforce  such  precepts  upon  you,  that  you  should  re-t  in 
the  external  form  of  this  piece  or  part  of  religion  ;  but  that 
we  should  all  labour  to  get  the  form  filled  up  with  life  and 
spirit  more  and  more.  And  by  how  much  the  more  it 
shall  be  so  ;  as  London  hath  been  an  eminent  instance  of 
religion  in  former  times  and  ages,  especially  since  the 
Ref^ormation,  so  it  will  be  much  more  so.  As  it  is  grown 
more  in  other  respects,  so  may  it  through  the  blessing  of 
God  grow  in  this  respect  also  ! 

We  are  expecting  the  time,  when  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord 
is  to  be  poured  forth  more  copiously,  more  generally,  and 
in  a  greater  measure,  than  hitherto:  and  what  an  honour 
*  Preached  January  2l8t,  16W. 


will  it  be,  that  shall  be  put  upon  London,  if  that  shall  be 
made  a  luminary  to  so  great  a  part  of  ihe  world  besides, 
as  such  a  city  can  fall  under  the  notice  and  observation 
of!  Instead  of  shame,  here  will  be  glory.  Do  you  glory 
(instead  of  being  ashamed)  to  bear  your  part  in  so  noble  a 
design,  to  revive  languishing  religion  in  our  land,  and  in 
London,  and  in  our  age.  If  you  think  it  fit,  that  Christ- 
ian religion  should  not  dwindle  and  go  out  in  a  snuff;  oh, 
contribute  your  utmost  in  j'our  several  stations,  that  it 
may  be  more  and  more  a  spreading  and  vivid  thing,  such 
as  may  spread  and  recommend  itself. 


SERMON  VL* 

We  now  proceed  to  the  Use,  which  may  be  proper  to  be 
made  of  all  the  foregoing  discourses.     And, 

I.  That  which  hath  been  said  may  be  useful  for  our  in- 
struction in  sundry  inferences,  which  it  will  be  very  ob- 
vious to  deduce  from  it. 

First,  That  if  there  ought  to  be  such  a  thing  as  family 
religion,  then  certainly  there  ought  to  be  such  a  thing  as 
personal.  For  as  families  do  suppose  persons,  and  are 
made  up  of  them ;  so  family  religion  must  suppose  per- 
sonal religion.  For  the  reason  formerly  mentioned,  I  did 
select  out  of  this  text  for  my  main  subject  the  business  of 
family  religion,  and  do  not  design  a  distinct  discourse 
concerning  personal ;  that  being  the  business  of  all  our 
preaching  and  hearing  all  the  year  about.  But  yet,  as  I 
told  you,  I  shall  not  pass  over  upon  this  subject  the  busi- 
ness of  solitary  or  personal  religion.  But  I  leckon  it  very 
fitly  comes  in  by  way  of  inference  and  deduction  from 
what  hath  been  said  to  the  former :  for  there  cannot  be  a 
greater  absurdity  or  solecism  in  all  the  world,  than  that  a 
man  should  pretend  to  set  up  religion  in  his  family,  and 
yet  know  notning  what  belongs  to  any  exercises  of  reli- 
gion alone  and  apart  by  himself 

I  know  many  pretend,  (but  I  hope  from  what  you  have 
heard  it  is  but  a  pretence,)  that  the  obligation  unto  family 
religion  is  obscure  and  hard  to  be  made  out.  But  in  the 
mean  time,  as  to  personal  religion,  nothing  can  be  more 
express.  How  distinct  is  the  command  of  our  great  and 
blessed  Lord,  in  Matt.  vi.  6.  "  Enter  into  thy  closet,  and 
shut  thy  door,  and  pray  to  him  in  secret  that  seeth  in  se- 
cret, and  he  will  reward  thee  openly."  Because  then  we 
have  shown,  that  religion  is  not  to  be  shut  up  in  a  closet, 
is  it  therefore  to  be  shut  out  thence,  against  so  express  a 
precept  as  this  1  I  intend  no  more  than  only  to  touch  upon 
this  subject;  and  pursuantly  unto  my  design  in  taking  no- 
tice of  it,  it  will  suffice  to  say  briefly  these  four  things 
concerning  it. 

1.  That  there  is  more  constant  and  easy  opportunity  for 
the  exercise  of  personal  and  solitary  religion,  than  there 
can  be  for  any  other.  And  a  migh:y  privilege  that  is, 
which  a  good  soul  would  be  loth  to  forfeit  or  to  make  no- 
thing of:  "  I  can  be  with  God  alone  at  any  time ;  I  can 
retire  myself,  when  I  will,  to  the  more  stated  exercises  of 
personal  religion.  Whenever  my  heart  is  in  a  disposition, 
I  can  presently  ejaculate  a  thought,  a  desire,  a  holy  aspi- 
ring Godvvard.  It  is  possible  that  men  may  hinder  the 
meeting  of  others  together  for  the  exercises  of  religion.; 
but  who  can  come  between  God  and  me?  With  him  I  ca'n 
converse  in  any  den,  in  any  desert,  in  any  dungeon  ;  and 
none  can  prevent  me." 

2.  There  is  more  liberty  and  freedom  of  spirit  in  the  se- 
cret exercises  of  religion.  Then  I  can  pour  out  my  soul 
and  vent  myself  unto  God  freely,  when  I  am  with  him  in 
a  corner.  This  is  one  of  the  great  privileges  of  friend- 
ship. It  is  the  mutual  sense  of  those  that  are  entirely 
friends  to  one  another,  "  We  are  theatre  enough  to  one 
another,"  as  the  noted  moralist  speaks.  Alter  alteri  satis 
amplnm  theatrvm  sumus.  I  and  my  friend ;  there  needs  no 
witness,  no  spectator  :  it  is  enough  for  us,  that  we  can  be 
entirely  and  inwardly  conversant  with  one  another. 

3.  There  is  hereupon  so  much  more  of  delight  in  it,  the 
highest  complacency.   You  know  what  the  delights  are  of 


Serm.  VI. 


fa:m!LY  religion  and  worship. 


G25 


friendly  commerce  with  one  of  a  suitable  spirit.  But  as 
there  is  no  friendship  like  the  divine,  so  there  are  no  de- 
lights like  those  of  divine  friendship.  When  I  retire  my- 
self with  him  on  purpose,  "My  meditation  of  him  shall 
be  sweet,"  saith  the  Psalmist,  Psal.  civ.  34.  He  forecasts 
thus  with  himself  "How  precious  are  thy  thouj^hts  to 
me,  O  God  !  I  can  be  with  God,  as  soon  as  I  can  think  a 
thought ;  and  how  delightful  is  it,  when  he  is  pleased  to 
mingle  thoughts  with  me,  to  inject  thoughts !"  That  is 
the  way  of  spirits  conversing  with  one  another  ;  and  most 
of  all  of  the  paternal  Spirit,  the  Father  of  spirits,  that 
knoweth  how  most  immediately  andinwardly  to  influence 
his  own  offspring. 

4.  There  is  the  fullest  expression  of  sincerity  in  secret 
and  closet  religion.  It  is  in  opposition  to  the  practice  of 
hypocrites,  that  our  Saviour  gives  that  injunction  which  I 
mentioned  in  Matt.  vi.  5,  6.  "  When  ye  pray,  be  not  as 
the  hypocrites;  they  would  fain  appear  to  men  to  pray; 
they  love  to  pray  in  the  synagogues,  and  in  the  corners  of 
the  streets,  that  they  may  be  seen  of  men."  All  their  re- 
ligion is  street  religion,  synagogue  religion;  they  know 
no  other.  "  But  do  thou  enter  into  thy  closet,  and  shut 
the  door,"  (fcc.  There  is  nothing  of  design  in  this,  but  to 
meet  with  God,  to  pay  him  the  homage  I  owe  to  him,  and 
to  seek  from  him  the  vital  communications  which  I  need. 
Here  is  nothing  of  pomp,  nothing  of  ostentation.  When 
our  Saviour  saith,  hypocrites  do  so  and  so  ;  you  may  easi- 
ly by  other  places  in  the  Gospel  know  whom  he  means  by 
that  character,  namely,  the  scribes  and  Pharisees,  men- 
tioned in  the  foregoing  chapter  and  elsewhere.  Theyare 
often  mentioned  in  conjunction  with  that  other  title,  in 
Matt,  xxiii.  "  Wo  unto  you,  scribes  and  Pharisees,  hypo- 
crites." Of  all  religions  in  the  world,  I  would  never 
make  a  Pharisee  the  measure  of  my  religion  ;  to  have  but 
a  Pharisaical  religion,  a  religion  with  others  or  in  the 
sight  of  others,  but  none  to  myself  How  many  please 
themselves,  if  they  think  they  have  a  more  excellent  gift 
in  this  kind,  to  make  ostentation  of  it  to  others ;  but  to- 
wards God  alone  they  are  dumb  and  silent !  They  seem 
to  be  all  religion  with  others;  but  alone  they  are  nothing 
in  it,  their  hearts  are  all  earth  and  stone. 

Secondl}',  If  there  ought  to  be  family  religion  setup  and 
kept  up  by  governors  of  families;  then — they  in  families, 
who  are  under  government,  are  obliged  to  comply  there- 
unto.— Any  duty,  that  is  incumbent  upon  one  relative  as 
such,  doth  manifestly  imply  the  duty  of  the  correlative  or 
of  the  correlate.  If  governors  of  families  must  set  up  and 
keep  up  religion  in  their  families  ;  then  they  that  are  un- 
der government  must  comply.  The  same  authority,  that 
binds  the  one,  binds  the  other  too.  So  that  they,  who  re- 
fuse to  comply,  are  not  only  rebels  against  the  governors 
of  the  family  ;  but  rebels  against  the  Lord  of  heaven  and 
earth,  with  whose  authority  such  governors  are  invested  : 
for  there  is  no  power  but  from  him. 

And  though  it  be  true  indeed,  that  a  human  governor 
can  see  no  further  than  to  an  external  conformity;  he 
from  whom  the  obligation  principally  comes,  seeth  further, 
seeth  into  the  heart  and  soul  with  the  strictest  and  most 
prying  inspection.  And  therefore  with  reference  to  him, 
such  as  are  under  government  in  families  are  obliged  to 
concur  in  heart  and  spirit,  and  not  to  afford  an  external 
and  bodily  presence  only.  For  your  business  lies  with 
the  God  of  the  spirits  of  all  flesh ;  who  takes  notice,  whe- 
ther you  come  with  an  inclined  heart  or  a  disinclined, 
with  aversion  or  with  desire  ;  or  whether  you  attend  upon 
such  duties  with  complacency  or  without  delight.  There 
is  no  deceiving  of  him.  The  same  law,  that  obliges  you 
to  pray,  obliges  you  to  "  pray  in  the  Holy  Ghost ;"  and 
implieth,  that  if  you  desire  his  communications  and  as- 
sisting influences,  as  "  a  Spirit  of  grace  and  supplication," 
they  will  ordinarily  be  afforded  ;  and  that  you  will  not  be 
destitute  of  those  assistances  but  by  slighting  them,  by  de- 
spising and  resisting  and  vexing  that  Spirit,  who  is  ready 
to  assist  you,  and  to  engage  your  hearts  and  to  do  them 
good  by  such  a  duty. 

And  let  me  tell  you,  that  as  it  is  a  eulog}%  a  character 
of  praise  and  commendation,  in  any  one  to  be  good  in  a 
bad  family;  so  it  must  proportionably  be  a  horrid  brand 
upon  any  one  to  be  bad  in  a  good  family.  It  was  thought 
fit  to  be  put  upon  record  concerning  Abijah  the  son  of 


Jeroboam,  (1  Kings  xiv.  13.)  that  "  there  was  some  good 
thing  found  in  him  towards  the  Lord  his  God,  even  in  the 
house  of  Jeroboam  ;"  good  desires,  good  inclinations,  even 
in  so  wicked  a  family  as  Jeroboam's  was.  It  is  propor- 
tionably a  horrid  mark  upon  that  person,  who  coniinueih 
ungodly  in  a  godly  family  ;  that  is,  aprayerless  wretch  in 
a  praying  family;  whose  heart  at  least  never  prayeth,  hath 
no  desires  after  God;  no  contrition,  no  sense  in  the  con- 
fession of  sin  ;  no  love,  no  gratitude  in  the  acknowledgment 
of  mercy.  For  one  to  continue  ungodly  in  a  godly  family, 
or  to  go  out  ungodly  from  a  godly  family,  what  a  horrid 
thing  will  this  be!  How  much  of  terror  and  amazement 
will  it  carry  in  it  at  last,  when  the  case  comes  to  open  it- 
self to  view,  and  to  be  looked  upon  and  considered  in  its 
proper  and  native  aspect !  And  even  as  it  now  is  ;  to  think 
with  oneself,  "  That  such  or  such  children  or  fellow-ser- 
vants in  a  family,  where  I  may  have  lived  a  considerable 
time,  may  have  had  their  hearts  melted  in  bearing  the  word 
read  and  opened  and  applied,  but  mine  was  always  hard : 
they  have  had  their  souls  humbled  in  the  acknowledgment 
of  sin,  but  mine  was  unhumbled :  they  have  had  desires 
enlarged  in  seeking  for  mercy,  but  I  had  no  desire  after 
spiritual  good." — To  live  so  in  a  good  family,  and  to  go 
out  such  from  a  good  family;  oh,  the  horror  of  this  case, 
and  the  reflections  it  will  cau.se  in  the  close  of  time  !  or, 
if  not  so,  m  an  eternity  of  miser)',  that  will  never  end  ! 

Thirdly,  We  may  further  collect  hence,  that  if  family 
governors  are  to  resolve,  for  their  families  as  well  as  them- 
selves, upon  serving  the  Lord ;  then — they  have  a  power 
and  a  trust  over  their  families,  and  about  their  familic-,  in 
reference  hereto. — Otherwise  Joshua  had  said  he  knew  not 
what,  or  whv,  v.-hen  he  said,  "  I  and  my  house  will  serve 
the  Lord."  But  this  I  have  evinced  already  by  several 
considerations;  as  was  necessary  in  reference  to  a  dis- 
course of  this  nature.  It  is  plain,  such  a  power  God  doth 
invest  every  governor  of  a  family  with. 

Fourthly,  If  there  be  such  a  power  lodged  in  family  go- 
vernors, then — this  power  ought  to  have  its  exercise.  There 
is  no  power  in  nature,  that  is  frustraneous,  and  never  to 
be  reduced  into  act.  Such  an  incongruity  as  that  is  never 
to  be  found  in  the  whole  volume  of  nature.  And  it  is  as 
little  to  be  found  in  matters  that  are  of  a  moral  and  spirit- 
ual consideration.  If  there  be  then  such  a  power,  it  ought 
to  be  reduced  into  act.  That  is,  masters  of  families,  by 
the  use  and  exercise  of  this  power,  mu.st  oblige  those  that 
live  under  their  government  to  comport  becomingly  with 
the  duties  and  exercises  of  religion  in  theii  families. 
There  ought  to  be  a  paternal,  a  despotical  use  of  this  pow- 
er in  reference  to  this  case. 

If  j^ou  ask.  Wherein"?  we  must  speak  with  distinction, 
because  the  subordinate  relatives  in  a  family  are  not  all  of 
one  order,  but  there  is  great  diversity  among  them. 

If  where  there  is  a  godly  praying  hu.^'and.  there  is  an 
ungodly  wife,  who  cannot  endure  to  comport  with  such 
exercises  of  religion  in  the  family;  here  is  indeed,  in  re- 
ference to  what  is  past,  matter  of  deep  shame  and  humili- 
ation, that  no  wiser  and  better  a  choice  was  made.  Persons 
in  their  choice  ought  mutually  to  have  reference  to  this  as 
the  fir.'it  and  main  thing,  to  match  minds  and  spirits,  ra- 
ther than  fancies  and  fortunes.  And  it  should  be  matter 
of  deep  humiliation,  if  it  have  not  been  so.  But  as  to 
what  is  future,  there  can  be  no  more  done  in  this  case, 
than  to  exhort  with  authority,  and  so  to  reprove  as  may 
be  most  suitable  to  the  end.  and  most  likely  to  attain  it. 

If  it  be  the  case  as  to  the  husband  in  reference  to  the 
wife,  that  he  discovers  an  aversion  to  ever>-  thing  of  reli- 
gion, and  especiallv  to  anv  family  exercises  of  it :  here  is 
no  authority  to  be  used  ;  (the  woman  hath  none  over  the 
man ;)  but  in  that  relation  there  must  be  all  the  prudent 
and  gentle  persuasions  that  can  be,  and  a  resolution  to  en - 
gage^as  many  of  the  familv  as  she  can  to  bear  a  part  with 
her  in  the  exercises  of  family  religion :  as  you  heard  of 
Esther  and  her  maids.  For  'she  is  to  obey  but  "  in  the 
Lord  :"  and  not  so  to  obey,  as  to  abandon  religion  npon 
his  account,  and  to  throw' it  out  of  the  family.  And  she 
is  kind  to  him  herein,  and  puts  the  greatest  obligation 
upon  him,  (which  he  mav  come  to  understand  in  time,) 
in  that  she  labours  to  keep  off  a  curse  from  coming  upon 
the  family;  as  Abigail  did  once  keep  off  from  Nabal  a 
vengeance  that  was  just  coming  upon  him. 


626 


THE  OBLIGATIONS  TO 


Serm.  vr. 


But  as  to  children;  where  there  are  godly  parents  that 
ha  'e  ungodly  children,  disci-vering  early  a  disinclination 
to  religion ;  (as  indeed  lor  the  most  part  it  is  too  early  dis- 
coverable;) where  this  is  discoverable,  there  ought  to  be 
so  much  the  more  serious,  earnest  endeavour  used  to  cul- 
tivate this  wilderness  of  nature,  and  to  correct  it  betimes. 
There  ought  to  be  early  insinuations  and  endeavours  to 
instil  principles  of  religion,  to  be  instrumental  towards 
the  possessing  of  souls  with  a  reverence  of  that  Majesty, 
whom  they  themselves  reverence.  As  no  doubt  it  was 
from  what  Jacob  had  long  observed  concerning  his  father 
Isaac,  that,  swearing  by  God,  he  swore  by  him  under  the 
name  of  "  the  fear  of  his  father  Lsaac  ;"  (Gen.  xxxi.  53.) 
him,  whom  he  had  long  observed  his  father  to  have  a 
great  reverence  for. 

But  when  any  are  growTi  up  with  this  aversion,  (which 
It  may  be  through  great  negligence  was  not  animadverted 
upon  betimes,  as  it  should  have  been,)  and  do  now  disco- 
ver open  enmity  against  the  religion  of  their  father  and  of 
their  family;  wise  and  holy  parents  have  ways  yet  to  make 
use  of  their  paternal  authority  in  that  case,  at  least  in  the 
disposal  of  what  is  theirs.  They  may  let  it  be  understood 
and  known,  that  by  how  much  the  less  they  show  them- 
selves lovers  of  God,  they  the  parents  shall  show  them- 
selves so  much  the  less  lovers  of  them,  and  the  more 
sparingly  provide  for  them.  And  they  ought  not  only  to 
say  so,  but  to  do  so.  There  is  not  a  greater  fault  to  be  an- 
imadverted upon  among  persons  professing  religion,  who 
are  governors  of  families,  than  that  they  let  a  fond  and 
foolish  affection  to  their  children  prevail  against  that  duti- 
ful and  loyal  love  which  they  owe  to  God;  that  is,  that 
without  distinction  they  labour  to  put  all  that  they  can  into 
the  hands  of  an  ungodly  son:  which  is  indeed  to  aim  him 
against  God's  interest  in  the  world,  and  against  religion. 
They  should  take  care,  that  such  shall  live ;  but  that  they 
shall  have  all  the  advantages  that  they  can  give  them, 
wherewith  to  maintain  and  keep  up  a  war  against  heaven, 
this  is  what  good  parents  can  never  give  an  account  for, 
thai  when  they  are  only  intrusted  as  stewards  of  the  mani- 
fold grace  of  God,  they  should  dispose  of  it  so.  These 
Te  the  gifts  of  his  grace,  taken  in  a  larger  sense,  of  his 
bounty  and  goodness.  And  if  they  shall  employ  them,  in 
order  so  much  the  more  effectually  to  keep  up  and  main- 
tain a  war  against  the  universal  Ruler  of  the  world  ;  this 
is  a  most  undutiful  and  disloyal  affection. 

As  for  servants;  they  are  no  such  inseparable  parts  of 
a  family,  but  that,  if  they  be  found  finally  inflexible,  and 
discover  an  enmity  against  God  and  religion  that  cannot 
be  overcome  and  got  out  of  their  hearts,  they  m.ay  be  got 
out  of  the  house.  And  they  w(M5<  be  so.  As  the  Psalmist 
speaks  concerning  telling  a  lie,  (Psalm  ci.)  when  he  had 
expressed  in  the  beginning  of  the  Psalm  his  resolution 
concerning  family  order,  that  "  he  would  walk"  or  con- 
verse "  in  a  perfect  way  and  with  an  upright  heart  in  his 
house,"  perform  and  do  the  duties  of  a  family  governor 
with  integrity  and  uprightness  ;  (that  must  be  meant  by 
walking  there  ;)  so  in  what  follows  he  tells  you,  what  the 
characters  should  be  of  one  that  should  stay  or  should  not 
stay  in  his  house.  He  speaks  to  this  purpose,  both  nega- 
tively and  positively.  Negatively;  The  work  of  them 
that  "turn  aside,  should  not  cleave  to  him,  ver.  3.  That  is, 
of  them  that  decline  and  are  opposite  to  religion;  so  it 
must  principally  be  understood.  "A  froward  heart  shall 
depart  from  me;  I  will  not  know  a  wicked  person,"  ver. 
4.  He  had  spoken  before  of  the  rule  he  would  observe 
in  reference  to  his  house  and  family;  and  to  this,  those 
following  expressions  must  be  understood  to  have  a  direct 
reference.  And  for  the  expression  oi  froii:o,rd,  and  that 
other  of  turning  aside  ;  they  are  used  in  divers  places  of 
Scripture  to  signify  disinclination  to  religion,  an  averse, 
disaffected  heart  towards  God.  As  in  Psalm  liii.  2,  3.  one 
of  these  words  is  there  used;  When  "God  looked  down 
from  heaven,  to  see  if  any  did  understand  and  seek  God  ;" 
(it  is  said,)  "every  one  of  them  is  gone  back ;  they  are  in 
an  averse,  disaffected  posture,  all  hanging  off  from  God 
and  disaffected  to  him."  So  one  of  those  words  is  used 
in  Psalm  Iviii.  3.  "  The  wicked  are  estranged  from  the 
womb;  they  go  astray  as  soon  as  they  be  born."  This  re- 
ference the  expressions  must  be  understood  to  have  here, 
I  o  signify  disaffection  to  religion.     Now  such  a  one,  saith 


he,  "  .shall  depart  from  me,  and  I  will  not  know  him." 
And  afterwards,  ver.  7.  "  He  that  worketh  deceit,  i^hall 
not  dwell  within  my  house ;  he  that  telleih  lies,  shall  not 
tarry  in  my  sight ;"  one,  in  whom  this  conjunction  is  ac- 
tually found,  (which  is  always  to  be  expected,)  disaffection 
to  God  and  falsehood  to  oneself.  A  thing,  that  a  heathen 
took  notice  of  long  ago ;  Qui  Deum  non  timent,  fallent 
homines :  They  that  fear  not  God,  have  no  truth  towards 
men. 

But  the  Psalmist  tells  us  who  shall  stay  in  his  house, 
ver.  6.  "  Mine  eyes  shall  be  upon  the  faithful  of  the  land, 
that  they  may  dwell  with  me;  and  he  that  walketh  in  a 
perfect  way,  or  uprightly,  he  shall  serve  me."  "  I  will 
have  mine  eyes  every  where  ;  and  if  there  be  an  honest, 
upright-hearted  person  to  be  found,  I  will  choose  such  a 
one  for  my  servant." 

This  ought  to  be  a  measure  to  all  of  us.  A  godly,  faith- 
ful servant  is,  I  am  afraid,  a  too  little  vaJued  thing  with 
many  among  us;  they  are  more  indifferent,  how  their  ser- 
vants stand  affected  towards  religion  ;  whether  they  have 
any  love  of  God  or  godliness,  yea  or  no.  But  ii  such  can 
be  found,  saith  the  Psalmist,  they  shal.  serve  me,  .ive  with 
me ;  I  will  labour  to  furnish  my  house,  as  far  as  in  me  is, 
with  such  as  will  labour  to  comply  and  fall  in  with  me  in 
the  great  business  of  religion.  You  have  heard  concern- 
ing this  same  Psalmist  David,  (2  Sam.  vi.  20.)  how,  after 
that  great  solemnity  wa-s  over  of  placing  the  ark,  "  he  re- 
turned to  bless  his  household."  It  is  obvious  enough  to 
collect,  that  this  was  a  stated  practice  with  him,  from 
which  that  great  solemnity  should  not  divert  him,  when 
the  time  and  season  wa.s  come  of  going  to  perform  the  or- 
dinary exercises  of  religion  in  his  house:  and  unto  that 
therefore  in  its  proper  time  he  applieth  himself. 

It  will  therefore  be  the  care  of  good  family  masters,  to 
have  such  for  members  of  their  families,  as  may  contri- 
bute to  the  drawing  down  of  a  blessing  upon  their  house; 
that  they  may  not  counteract  themselves  ;  and,  as  the  dai- 
ly exercise  of  religion  is  the  blessing  of  a  family,  that 
they  may  not,  by  connivance  and  indulgence  to  wicked- 
ness and  disaffection  to  religion,  undo  their  work  and  pull 
down  a  curse,  more  effectually  than  they  can  hope  in  a 
half  and  divided  way  to  gain  or  draw  down  a  blessing. 

These  several  ways  there  ought  to  be  an  exercise  of  the 
power,  that  God  hath  invested  each  master  of  a  family 
with.  And  it  ought  to  be  considered,  that  wherever 
there  is  a  power,  there  is  a  trust.  There  can  be  no  pow- 
er but  from  God;  and  where  he  lodgeth  this  power,  he 
doth  also  commit  a  trust  into  such  hands ;  and  the  weight 
of  this  ought, to  lie,  and  will  lie,  upon  every  one  that  is 
conscientious.     And  therefore, 

II.  I  shall  shut  up  all  the  discourse  upon  this  subject 
with  a  few  words  of  exhortation. 

1.  Wheresoever  family  religion  hath  been  set  on  foot, 
let  it  be  continued,  and  labour  to  improve  it ;  that  is,  to  be 
more  and  more  serious  and  lively  and  spiritual ;  both  they 
that  are  to  manage  the  duty,  and  they  that  are  to  concur 
and  join.  Let  there  be  an  endeavour  to  grow  more  quick 
and  lively  herein.  When  I  spoke  about  the  circumstances 
of  such  exercises,  I  said  nothing  how  much  time  was  to  be 
spent  in  them.  Indeed  there  is  no  particular  rule  to  be 
.set  for  that ;  as  I  have  told  you  the  matter  stands  upon 
other  accounts.  In  such  cases  prudence  is  to  be  exercised 
in  matters  of  relisfion,  as  well  as  in  other  matters.  "  A 
good  man  will  order  his  affairs  with  discretion,"  as  hath 
been  said  again  and  again.  Every  man  is  to  take  his  rule 
and  measure  for  that  from  discretion;  but  by  no  means 
from  indiscretion.  It  ought  to  be  considered  with  pru- 
dence and  judiciousness,  what  is  most  likely  to  serve  the 
end  of  religion,  in  such  exercises  of  it  as  we  have  been 
speaking  of.  I  reckon,  that  one  quarter  of  an  hour  spent 
with  spirit  and  life,  is  a  great  deal  better  than  hours  toge- 
ther spent  in  nauseous  flatting  repetitions,  (which  was  the 
Pharisaical  way,)  in  such  a  tedious  and  fulsome  way,  as 
tends  to  make  religion  a  burden  and  grievance.  I  think 
that  is  applicable  to  the  purposes  of  religion,  which  hath 
been  applied  to  meaner,  much  meaner  purposes;  that  it 
is  good  to  come  from  a  meal  with  an  appetite ;  that  it  is 
good  to  come  so  too  from  an  exercise  of  religion,  with 
those  pleasant  lively  relishes  left  upon  one's  spirit  as  may 
make  him  wish  for  the  return  of  such  a  season ;  "  Whea 


I 


Serm.  VI, 


FAMILY  RELIGION  AND  WORSHIP. 


62? 


will  the  time  for  prayer  and  solemn  attendances  upon  God 
come  again  "?"  But  this,  beyond  all  thmgs,  should  be  en- 
deavoured, that  there  may  be  an  improvement  in  life  and 
vigour  and  spirituality  in  the  performance  of  these  things, 
both  in  them  that  manage  them,  and  in  those  that  are  to 
concur  and  join  ;  where  such  a  thing  as  family  religion 
is  set  up  and  hath  been  kept  up. 

2.  I  must  desire  you  to  suffer  the  exhortation  too,  where 
family  religion  hath  not  hitherto  been  begun.  Oh,  make 
haste  and  begin  it,  keep  it  off  no  longer.  Defer  no  longer 
to  God  so  indisputable  a  right ;  or  to  make  use  of  so  great 
an  advantage  for  yourselves,  and  for  yours  that  you  are 
concerned  for.  I  hinted  to  you  in  what  was  said  to  an 
objection,  that  it  may  be  a  great  difficulty  with  some  how 
to  begin.  They  are  ashamed  to  be  taken  notice  of,  as  hav- 
ing received  a  conviction  of  this  matter,  and  so  to  own  a 
fault  by  applying  to  a  contrary  practice.  But  we  all  pro- 
fess ourselves  Christians ;  and  as  we  are  men,  we  are 
under  the  government  of  the  Supreme  Ruler,  and  must  be 
accountable  to  him.  It  becomes  us  on  both  accounts,  to 
jearn  to  be  ashamed  of  our  sin,  and  not  to  be  ashamed  of 
our  duty.  And  if  what  hath  been  said  shall  obtaia  to  be 
considered  and  laid  to  heart ;  I  cannot  but  hope,  that  they 
who  are  ashamed  to  begin,  will  rather  be  ashamed  not  to 
oegin,  to  defer  and  neglect  so  great  and  important  and 
olessed  a  work  as  this  is. 

0  think,  how  shame  will  be  estimated  one  day  in  "  the 
general  assembl}' ;"  when  all  the  world,  the  whole  creation 
of  intelligent  creatures,  angels  and  men,  shall  be  convened 
before  the  judgment-seat.  Think  how  shame  and  reputa- 
tion will  be  estimated  in  the  great  day.  You  are  told  that 
the  resurrection  of  ungodly  ones  will  be  a  resurrection  and 
awakening  to  shame  and  everlasting  reproach.  (Dan.  xii. 
2.)  Many  of  them  that  sleep  in  the  dust  of  the  earth,  shall 
awake:  some  to  shame  and  everlasting  reproach.  Oh! 
for  a  man  to  ^e  hurried  away  from  the  bright,  glorious  pre- 
sence of  the  blessed  God,  under  the  notion  of  one  that 
would  not  call  upon  him;  severed  from  all  "the  spirits  of 
just  men  made  perfect,"  and  from  that  innumerable  com- 
pany of  glorious  and  blessed  angels,  to  be  made  an  asso- 
ciate and  companion  of  devils  to  all  eternity,  for  this  very 
reason  1  Why  is  he  driven  into  darkness,  and  cast  out 
into  those  regions,  where  there  is  weeping  and  wailing  and 
gnashing  of  teeth  1  Why,  he  would  never  call  upon  God ; 
he  had  a  family,  but  there  was  no  religion  in  it ;  he  never 
cared  to  keep  up  God's  interest  in  his  earthly  station. 
This  is  therefore  his  portion  and  punishment.  Think, 
whether  this  will  not  be  a  greater  shame,  than  to  begin  a 
holy  religious  course,  that  hath  been  nc^l-  cted  hitherto. 

1  shall  briefly  shut  up  all  with  the  following  considerations, 
that  may  through  God's  blessing  help  to  enforce  all  upon  us. 

1.  Consider,  How  come  you  to  have  a  family,  and  your 
family  to  have  a  place  and  habitation  in  this  world  1  Do 
you  not  know,  that  the  Lord  is  the  Ruler  of  all  this  world, 
and  that  he  sets  the  solitary  in  families,  and  appoints  to  all 
the  bounds  of  their  habitation  "?  And  for  what  1  That 
they  might  seek  the  Lord  :  (as  is  signified,  Acts  xvii.  26, 
27,  28.)  if  so  he  they  may  feel  and  find  him  out,  who  is 
not  far  from  any  one  of  us,  since  in  him  we  all  live  and 
move  and  have  our  being.  Will  you  defeat  the  design,  for 
which  God  made  such  a  world  of  creatures,  and  hath  dis- 
posed them  into  societies  and  convenient  stations  here 
upon  this  earth  1  Was  this  done  merely  to  gratify  and 
please  these  creatures'?  That  is  to  suppose  a  creature 
designed  by  God  to  be  its  own  end,  and  that  he  had  re- 
signed the  prerogative  of  his  Deity  to  the  work  of  his  own 
hands  now  in  rebellion  against  him. 

2.  Do  not  you  know,  that  you  need  a  constant  preserver 
in  your  several  dwellings?  Except  the  Lord  build  the 
house  they  labour  in  vain  that  build  it ;  except  the  Lord 
keep  the  city,  the  watchmen  waketh  but  in  vain.  Psalm 
cxxvii.  I.  A  city  you  know  is  made  up  of  .so  many 
houses  inhabited;  but  every  such  house  is  kept  in  vain,  if 
God  be  not  the  keeper.  And  what !  is  he  not  worth  the 
taking  notice  of,  that  watcheth  over  you  night  after  night 
and  day  after  day"? 

3.  How  can  you  expect  to  live  comfortably  in  your 
dwellings  without  God  1  What  good  will  your  enjoyments 
do  you?  Can  a  blessing  for  a  soul  spring  out  of  the  earth, 
a  good  suitable  to  an  immortal  mind?     It  is  an  amazing 


thing,  a.s  Job  represent!!  it,  (chap.  xxi.  7,  &c.)  that  men 
should  outwardly  flourish  in  their  external  circumstances, 
"  live,  become  old,  and  mighty  in  power,  have  their  seed 
established  in  their  sight,  and  their  offspring  before  their 
eyes  and  their  houses  safe  I'rom  fear  ;"  ihey  dwell  securely 
in  them,  they  are  safe  from  fear,  though  not  from  danger; 
and  yet  take  no  notice,  who  it  is  that  makes  them  dwell  in 
that  safety;  and  thereupon  say  unto  God,  notwith-standing 
all  this,  that  they  live  under  his  wing  and  upon  his  bounty, 
"  Depart  from  us,  lor  we  desire  not  the  knowledge  of  thy 
ways,"  ver.  14.  "  Our  hou.ses  shall  be  as  much  strangers 
to  religion,  as  they  are  to  fear  :  they  are  free  from  fear,  and 
they  shall  be  as  free  from  piety  too."  This  they  are 
pleased  with  as  their  greatest  privilege,  to  be  without  God. 
And  yet,  as  it  follows  ver.  16.  "  Their  good  is  not  in  their 
own  hand  :  the  counsel  of  the  wicked  is  far  from  me." 
Let  it  be  far  from  me  !  I  would  not  have  my  soul  bound 
up  with  such  a  one's  soul !  O  my  soul,  enter  not  into  the 
secret  of  those  horrid  creatures,  those  monsters  of  ingrati- 
tude, undutifulness,  and  disaffection,  towards  a  kind  gra- 
cious, and  benign  Lord  !  They  have  not  their  good  in  their 
own  hand,  but  it  is  all  in  his,  to  whom  they  yet  say,  "  De- 
part from  us !"  And  they  may  seem  to  prosper  in  this 
course  awhile ;  but  see  what  comes  of  it  at  length,  ver. 
17,  &c.  "How  often  is  the  candle  of  the  wicked  pui 
out !"  their  prosperity  reversed,  their  light  extinguished  ! 
and  how  often  comcih  their  destruction  upon  them  !  Ver. 
19.  "  God  layeth  up  his  iniquity  for  his  children  ;"  (thu> 
comethof  itat  last ;)  "he  rewardethhim,and  he  shall  know 
it."  Many  times  he  takes  care,  that  he  shall  know  it  in 
such  ways  as  are  there  expressed,  ver.  20.  "  His  own  eyes 
shall  see  his  own  destruction,  and  he  shall  drink  of  the 
wrath  of  the  Almighty.  For  what  pleasure  hath  he  in  his 
b^use  after  him,  when  the  number  of  his  months  is  cut  off 
in  the  midst  ?"  He  hath  children  .springing  up,  it  may  be, 
and  furnished  by  his  foolish  and  fond  care  and  concern 
with  great  things  in  this  world ;  such  a  son  is  married 
into  such  a  family,  and  .such  a  daughter  into  another, 
where  they  are  richly  and  opulently  provided  for.  But  his 
children  come  to  destruction  in  his  very  sight.  It  is  often 
so;  he  seeth  all  wasting  and  melting  away,  even  as  ? 
heap  of  snow  before  the  sun.  This  is  often  the  heritage  o; 
wicked  men  from  the  Lord  in  this  world;  and  if  it  be  not 
so  in  this  world,  worse  and  more  dismal  things  ensne  after- 
wards. In  the  mean  time,  what  comfort  ran  there  be, 
with  all  the  enjoyments  and  affluence  that  a  man  can  have 
in  his  house,  be  it  ever  so  pleasing  a  habita'ion.  while  God 
is  a  stranger,  dwells  not  there;  is  not  worshipped,  and  so 
dwells  not  there? 

4.  Consider,  how  amiable  a  thing  a  religious  family  is, 
where  the  fear  of  God  governeth  and  flourisheih.  Do  but 
read  to  that  purpose  the  128th  Psalm,  which  might  fruit- 
fully be  run  over. 

5.'  Do  not  you  desire,  that  the  world  should  mend  7 
that  you  may  see  better  times,  and  to  see  your  city  flourish  1 
If  trade  languish,  every  one  is  sensible :  methinks  we 
should  not  be  insensible,  if  religion  languish.  But  how 
shall  it  live,  if  not  in  families?  There  is  the  great  failure 
And  any  place,  that  hath  been  long  the  seat  of  religion, 
when  it  comes  to  decay  in  that  respect,  will  decay  in  other 
respects  too.  "  Be  instructed,  O  Jerusalem,  lest  my  soul 
depart  from  thee  :  and  I  leave  thee  desolate  without  in- 
habitant," Jer.  vi.  8.  If  that,  which  is  the  verA-  soul  of 
any  people's  good  estate,  even  of  the  political  boilv;  if 
that  retire,  all  moulders :  as,  if  the  soul  of  a  man  retires, 
is  gone  and  withdrawn,  the  body  crumbles  and  turns  to 
dust.  How  desirable  a  thing  is'  it  to  a  Londoner,  to  see 
London  in  a  prosperous,  flourishing  coiuli'.ion  !  But  never 
expect  to  see  it  so,  if  religion  shall  be  in  a  hmguishinri'c- 
caying  condition  gradually  from  day  to  day.  That  will 
be  a  dreadful  foretoken. 

6.  Consider,  that  all  family  masters  are  stewards,  and 
all  stewards  must  be  accountable.  O  consider  within  how 
little  a  time  we  are  every  one  of  us  to  be  called  to  an  ac- 
count :  "  What  did  vou  do  in  vour  station  as  governor  or 
governed  in  .<;uch  a  family  ?'"'  Prepare  that  you  may  be 
capable  of  rendering  a  good  account,  an  account  comfort- 
able to  yourselves. 

7.  Consider,  that  there  cannot  be  a  better  omen  of  % 
?')od  state  of  things  coming   than  if  we  could  see  that 


628 


THE  OBLIGATION  TO  FAMILY  RELIGION. 


Serm.  VI. 


take  effect,  which  hath  been  designed  and  endeavoured  by 
so  many  servants  of  God  at  this  time,  upon  the  subject  of 
family  religion.  There  could  not  be  a  more  promising 
token  to  us.  God  hath  touched  the  minds  of  those  who 
are  associated  in  the  work  of  the  Gospel  among  us,  all  at 
once  by  a  kind  of  celeusma,  to  cry  up  family  religion.  If 
this  should  have  its  good  effect,  (and  why  should  we  not 
hope  it  will  ■?)  we  cannot  have  abetter  token  for  good.  The 
cry  of  wickedness  is  loud.  If  the  cry  of  prayer,  when  it 
shall  come  to  be  so  united  a  cry,  shall  prevail  and  be 
louder,  this  will  draw  down  blessings.  The  cry  of  wick- 
edness is  calling  for  wrath  and  vengeance,  for  the  vials  to 
be  poured  out  upon  us :  but  if  so  many  houses,  as  there  are 
in  London,  wherein  religion  is  professed,  should  really  be- 
come so  many  oratories,  houses  of  prayer :  it  is  to  be  hoped 
there  will  be  so  many  louder  cries,  ascending  up  to  heaven 
for  mercy.  If  there  had  been  fifty,  forty,  thirty,  twenty, 
nay,  ten  righteous  persons  in  Sodom;  that  would  have 
prevailed  for  mercy  upon  that  city.  If  so  many  as  profess 
religion  in  London,  would  but  practice  it,  and  this  part  of 
it  in  particular,  to  set  prayer  on  work  with  importunity 
and  fervour  in  their  several  families  ;  in  this  respect  vox 
populi  w  ill  be  vox  Dei:  the  voice  of  a  praying  people  will 
be  as  the  voice  of  God  blessing  us  from  above ;  and  telling 
us  that  you  have  prevailed,  the  course  of  wrath  is  stopped, 
the  decree  reversed,  prayer  is  heard,  and  that  3'ou  shall  see 


London,  the  city  of  your  solemnities,  a  quiet  habitatiop 
This  is  said  by  way  of  answer  to  the  people,  who  are 
brought  in  at  the  beginning  of  Isa.  xxxiii.  2.  praying,  "  O 
Lord  be  gracious  unto  us,  let  thine  arm  be  awakened  for 
us  every  morning."  Here  was  daily  prayer  ascending  and 
going  up.  It  follows  in  ver.  20.  "  Look  upon  Zion  the 
city  of  our  solemnities,  thine  eyes  shall  see  Jerusalem  a 
quiet  habitation,  a  tabernacle  that  shall  not  be  taken  down, 
not  one  of  the  stakes  thereof  shall  ever  be  removed,  nei- 
ther shall  any  of  the  cords  thereof  be  broken."  And  so  many 
prayers  ascending  out  of  so  many  several  families  of  Lon- 
don, will  be  harbingers  to  those,  from  whom  those  prayers 
proceeded,  and  in  whose  souls  they  were  formed  and  in- 
wrought. Such  praying  souls  shall  ascend  at  length  and 
follow  their  prayers.  And  if  we  who  are  now  here  as- 
sembled have  not  this  hope,  what  are  we  here  for  ?  Why 
do  we  worship;  if  this  be  not  our  hope,  that  our  souls 
shall  follow  our  adoration!  We  know  we  are  to  be  here 
but  a  little  while.  We  send  up  prayers,  desires,  and  praises 
here  in  our  assembly,  in  the  hope  and  expectation,  that  we 
shall  follow  the  prayers  and  praises  which  ascend  out  of 
our  assembly  ere  it  be  long.  Worship  God  with  the  same 
hope  and  expectation  in  your  families,  that  you  yourselves 
shall  ere  -ong  follow  your  prayers  and  praises  ascendmg 
from  thence  also. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  AT  LOS  ANGELES 

THE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 
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